Part 41 (2/2)

When we first introduced him to our reader's notice, we endeavoured to depict him as he then really was,--a man of strong principles, warm heart, and many n.o.ble qualities; but one, p.r.o.ne to over-estimate the value of birth and fortune--with a large proportion of pride and reserve--and with ideas greatly tinctured with the absurd fallacies of the mere man of the world.

But there was much in the family events we have described, to shake Delme's previous convictions, and to induce him to recal many of his former opinions.

He had seen his brother form a connection, which set at naught all those convenances, which _he_ had been accustomed to regard as essential to, and as indeed forming the very ingredient of, domestic happiness.

And yet Sir Henry Delme could not disguise from himself, that if, in George's short-lived career, there had been much of pain and sorrow, they were chiefly engendered by George's mental struggle, to uphold those very opinions to which he himself was wedded; and that to this alone, might be traced much of the suffering he had undergone. This was it that had so weakened mind and body, as to render change of scene necessary;--this was it that exposed Acme to the air of the pestiferous marshes, and which left George himself--a broken hearted man--totally incapable of bearing his bereavement.

On the other hand, the sunny happiness his brother had basked in,--and it was very great,--had sprung from the natural out-pourings of an affection, which,--unfettered as it had been by prudential considerations,--had yet the power to make earth a heaven while Acme shared it with him, and the dark grave an object of bright promise, when hailed as the portal, through which _he_ must pa.s.s, ere he gazed once more on the load-star of his hopes.

In the case, too, of Emily and Clarendon, although their union was far more in accordance with his earlier theories, yet he could not but note, how little their happiness seemed to rest on their position in society, and how greatly was it based on their love for each other.

These considerations were strengthened, by a growing feeling of isolation, which the death of George and of Acme,--the marriage of his sister,--and probably the time of life he had arrived at, were all calculated to awaken.

With the knowledge of his disease, sprung up the hope of an antidote; and it may be, that the little episode of the May Queen in our last chapter, came but as a running comment, to reflections that had long been cherished and indulged.

The thoughts of Sir Henry Delme anxiously centred in Julia Vernon; and as he recalled her graceful emotion when they last parted, the unfrequent blush,--it might be of shame, it might be of consciousness,--coloured his sun-burnt cheek.

At length,--the guests being dismissed, Delme was at leisure to renew an acquaintance, which had already proved an eventful one to him. He had heard little of Miss Vernon since his return to England. His sister had thought it better to let matters take their own course; and Julia, who knew that in the eyes of the world, her circ.u.mstances were very different to what they had been previous to her uncle's death; had from motives of delicacy, shunned any intercourse that might lead to a renewed intimacy with the family.

Her health, too, had been precarious, and her elasticity of mind was gone.

Slowly wasting from day to day, she had sought to banish all thoughts that were not of a world less vain than this--and her very languor of body--while it gave her an apology for declining all gaieties, induced a resigned spirit, and a quiet frame of mind.

When Sir Henry Delme was announced, Julia was alone in the drawing-room.

At that name, she attempted to rise from the sofa; but she was weak, and her head fell back on the white pillow.

Delme stood for a moment irresolute,--a prey to the deepest pangs of remorse.

Well might he be shocked at that altered form!

Her figure was greatly attenuated,--her cheeks sunken,--her eyes bright and large; while over the forehead and drooping eyelid branched the sapphire veins, with their intricate windings so clearly marked, that Delme almost thought, that he could trace the motion of the blood beneath.

That momentary pause, and the one mutual glance of recognition, told a more accurate tale than words could convey.

As Sir Henry pressed that small transparent hand, Julia's thin lip quivered convulsively. She attempted to speak, but the exertion of utterance was too great, and she burst into a flood of tears.

”Julia! my own Julia! forgive me! we will never part more!”

After this interview, it is needless to say that there was little else to be explained. Mrs. Vernon was delighted at Julia's happy prospects, and it was settled that their marriage should take place in the ensuing August.

Such arrangements as could be made on the spot to facilitate this, were at once entered on.

At the end of two months, it became necessary that Delme should proceed to town, for the purpose of seeing the Commander-in-Chief, in order to withdraw a previous application to be employed on active service. He was anxious also to consult a friend, whom he proposed appointing one of the trustees for his marriage settlement; and Clarendon and Emily had exacted a promise, that he would pay them a visit on his way to Delme Park; which he had determined to take on his route to town, that he might personally inspect some alterations he had lately planned there.

It was with bright prospects before him, that Delme kissed off the big tear that coursed down Julia's cheek; as she bade him farewell, with as much earnestness, as if years, instead of a short fortnight, were to elapse before they met again.

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