Perhaps, amongst all the sensations that throbbed in Mary's breast, none were more acute, more painful to be borne, than those arrising from the idea of being so soon forgotten by the man, who had appeared unequalled in benevolence, delicacy and affection. She began to write, but she was unable to reproach him, for her pen traced, almost without effort, expressions of tenderness; she read them, and shuddered when she recollected that they were no longer deserved, and might even no longer be pleasing. Why should I write ?" she exclaimed, as she tore the unfinished lines, and consigned them to the flames; "why should I write? his father may intercept my letters, or he may receive them himself with indifference. Oh, my God!" she continued, clasping her hands and melting into tears, "I have been very guilty, I deserve punishment, but from him it is hard to bear: and yet he wept when he parted from me; they were tears of contrition; 66 he he is not naturally vicious; perhaps even this apparent cruelty, may be but the perfection of duty, the firmness of rectitude. "Ah! why cannot I follow the example which he has afforded me? why cannot I forsake paths of guilt on which I shrink from reflecting. Alas! I have no father to oblige, no parent to fortify my weakness, to hail my return to virtue. Oh, my father! my dear sainted father! dost thou now behold thy child! Ah! in this moment, how keenly do I feel the. force of thy dying words! I have forfeited the integrity from which thou badest me hope for support, but heaven will not permit thy bliss to be tarnished, by suffering thee to witness the wretchedness of thy deserted child." Whilst Mary's soul was thus a prey to anguish, the Earl was congratulating himself, on having succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations with her aunt; who, who, struck with remorse for her past conduct, and flattered by the personal interference of a nobleman, as exalted in character as in rank, declared, with tears, her willingness to receive her ister's child, whose situation she engaged to make agreeable in every respect. Exulting in his success the Earl wrote immediately to Miss Macdonald, in the kindest and most soothing terms: in language calculated at once, to assure her of his esteem, and to raise her in her own. What then was the shock which his benevolence received, when his letter was returned with information, that the person to whom it was addressed, had left Appleton the week before its arrival, and that the people with whom she had lodged, were utterly ignorant of her future intentions, or of the place to which she might have removed. The Earl, greatly concerned at receiv ing ing this intelligence, imparted the uneasiness which it inspired in him, to Edmund, who could not, for a moment, bring himself to think Mary vicious, or unworthy; but feared that her flight was the result of wearied expectation, and disappointed hope, on the subject of Lord Courtney's return. The Earl warmly condemned his son for having deceived her respecting it, saying, "It was a selfish weakness of which I could not have suspected him. Nor shall I be surprised at any conduct which may result from it; for how can he expect truth where be gives an example of falsehood? I pity the poor victim of his dishonorable passion, and would rather know her to be wretched, than believe her to be guilty." Enquiries were useless, when they could not even be directed by conjecture, and Lord Drelincourt was obliged to seek consolation in reflecting on the rectitude of his intentions. Leav VOL. II. H ing |