Part 14 (1/2)
”My dearest child! fear not to look at me--fear not to meet the eye of a friend, who would watch over you, f.a.n.n.y, as the minister of Heaven should watch over that which is best and fairest, to make and keep it holy. Let me have that innocent heart in my keeping, my dearest child, and all that is idle, light, and vain shall be banished thence, while heavenward thoughts and holy musings shall take its place. Have you essayed to hymn the praises of your G.o.d, f.a.n.n.y, since we parted yesterday?”
This question was accompanied by an encouraging pat upon her glowing cheek; and f.a.n.n.y, her heart beating with vanity, shyness, hope, fear, and sundry other feelings, drew the MS. containing a fairly-written transcript of her yesterday's labours from her bosom, and placed it in his hand.
Mr. Cartwright pressed it with a sort of pious fervour to his lips, and enclosing it for greater security in a letter which he drew from his pocket, he laid it carefully within his waistcoat, on the left side of his person, and as near, as possible to that part of it appropriated for the residence of the heart.
”This must be examined in private, my beloved child,” said he solemnly.
”The first attempt to raise such a spirit as yours in holy song has, to my feelings, something as awful in it as the first glad movement of a seraph's wing!... Where is your mother, f.a.n.n.y?”
”She is in the library.”
”Alone?”
”Oh yes!--at least I should think so, for I am sure she is expecting you.”
”Farewell, then, my dear young friend!--Pursue your solitary musing walk; and remember, f.a.n.n.y, that as by your talents you are marked and set apart, as it were, from the great ma.s.s of human souls, so will you be looked upon the more fixedly by the searching eye of G.o.d. It is from him you received this talent--keep it sacred to his use, as David did, and great shall be your reward!--Shall I startle your good mother, f.a.n.n.y, if I enter by the library window?”
”Oh no! Mr. Cartwright--I am sure mamma would be quite vexed if you always went round that long way up to the door, especially in summer you know, when the windows are always open.”
”Once more, farewell, then!”
f.a.n.n.y's hand was again tenderly pressed, and they parted.
It would be a needless lengthening of my tale, were I to record all that pa.s.sed at this and three or four subsequent interviews which took place between the vicar and Mrs. Mowbray on the subject of proving the will.
Together with the kindest and most soothing demonstrations of rapidly increasing friends.h.i.+p and esteem, Mr. Cartwright conveyed to her very sound legal information respecting what it was necessary for her to do.
The only difficulty remaining seemed to arise from Mrs. Mowbray's dislike to apply to any friend in London, either for their hospitality or a.s.sistance, during the visit it was necessary she should make there for the completion of the business. This dislike arose from the very disagreeable difficulties which had been thrown in her way by Sir Gilbert Harrington's refusing to act. It would have been very painful to her, as she frankly avowed to her new friend, to announce and explain this refusal to any one; and it was therefore finally arranged between them, that he should give her a letter of introduction to a most excellent and trustworthy friend and relation of his, who was distinguished, as he a.s.sured her, for being the most honourable and conscientious attorney in London,--and perhaps, as he added with a sigh, the only one who constantly acted with the fear of the Lord before his eyes.
Gladly did Mrs. Mowbray accede to this proposal, for in truth it removed a world of anxiety from her mind; and urged as much by a wish to prove how very easy it was to be independent of Sir Gilbert, as by the strenuous advice of Mr. Cartwright to lose no time in bringing the business to a conclusion, she fixed upon the following week for this troublesome but necessary expedition.
It may serve to throw a light upon the kind and anxious interest which the Vicar of Wrexhill took in the affairs of his widowed paris.h.i.+oner, if a copy of his letter to his cousin and friend Mr. Stephen Corbold be inserted.
”TO STEPHEN CORBOLD, ESQ. SOLICITOR, GRAY'S INN, LONDON.
”My dear and valued Friend and Cousin,
”It has at length pleased G.o.d to enable me to prove to you how sincere is the grat.i.tude which I have ever professed for the important service your father conferred upon me by the timely loan of two hundred pounds, when I was, as I believe you know, inconvenienced by a very troublesome claim. It has been a constant matter of regret to me that I should never, through the many years which have since pa.s.sed, been able to repay it: but, if I mistake not, the service which I am now able to render you will eventually prove such as fairly to liquidate your claim upon me; and from my knowledge of your pious and honourable feelings, I cannot doubt your being willing to deliver to me my bond for the same, should your advantages from the transaction in hand prove at all commensurate to my expectations.”
[Here followed a statement of the widow Mowbray's business in London, with the commentary upon the ways and means which she possessed to carry that, and all other business in which she was concerned, to a satisfactory conclusion, much to the contentment of all those fortunate enough to be employed as her a.s.sistants therein. The reverend gentleman then proceeded thus.]
”Nor is this all I would wish to say to you, cousin Stephen, on the subject of the widow Mowbray's affairs, and the advantages which may arise to you from the connexion which equally, of course, for her advantage as for yours, I am desirous of establis.h.i.+ng between you.
”I need not tell _you_, cousin Stephen, who, by the blessing of Heaven upon your worthy endeavours, have already been able in a little way to see what law is,--I need not, I say, point out to you at any great length, how much there must of necessity be to do in the management of an estate and of funds which bring in a net income somewhat exceeding fourteen thousand pounds per annum. Now I learn from my excellent friend Mrs. Mowbray, that her late husband transacted the whole of this business himself; an example which it is impossible, as I need not remark, for his widow and sole legatee to follow. She is quite aware of this, and by a merciful dispensation of the Most High, her mind appears to be singularly ductile, and liable to receive such impressions as a pious and attentive friend would be able to enforce on all points. In addition to this great and heavy charge, which it has pleased Providence, doubtless for his own good purposes, to lay upon her, she has also the entire management, as legal and sole guardian of a young Irish heiress, of another prodigiously fine property, consisting, like her own, partly of money in the English funds, and partly in houses and lands in the north part of Ireland. The business connected with the Torrington property is therefore at this moment, as well as every thing concerning the widow Mowbray's affairs, completely without any agent whatever; and I am not without hopes, cousin Stephen, that by the blessing of G.o.d to usward, I may be enabled to obtain the same for you.
”I know the pious habit of your mind, cousin, and that you, like myself, never see any remarkable occurrence without clearly tracing therein the immediate finger of Heaven. I confess that throughout the whole of this affair;--the sudden death of the late owner of this n.o.ble fortune; the singular will he left, by which it all has become wholly and solely at the disposal of his excellent widow; the hasty and not overwise determination to renounce the executors.h.i.+p on the part of this petulant Sir Gilbert Harrington; the accident or rather series of accidents, by which I have become at once and so unexpectedly, the chief stay, support, comfort, consolation, and adviser of this amiable but very helpless lady;--throughout the whole of this, I cannot, I say, but observe the gracious Providence of my Master, who wills that I should obtain power and mastery even over the things of this world, worthless though they be, cousin Stephen, when set in comparison with those of the world to come. It is my clear perception of the will of Heaven in this matter which renders me willing,--yea, ardent in my desire to obtain influence over the Mowbray family. They are not all, however, equally amiable to the wholesome guidance I would afford them: on the contrary, it is evident to me that the youngest child is the only one on whom the Lord is at present disposed to pour forth a saving light.
Nevertheless I will persevere. Peradventure the hearts of the disobedient may in the end be turned to the wisdom of the just; and we know right well who it is that can save from all danger, even though a man, went to sea without art; a tempting of Providence which would in my case be most criminal,--for great in that respect has been its mercy, giving unto me that light which is needful to guide us through the rocks and shoals for ever scattered amidst worldly affairs.
”Thus much have I written to you, cousin Stephen, with my own hand, that you might fully comprehend the work that lies before us. But I will not with pen and ink write more unto you, for I trust I shall shortly see you, and that we shall speak face to face.
”I am now and ever, cousin Stephen, your loving kinsman and Christian friend,
”WILLIAM JACOB CARTWRIGHt.