CHAPTER XXIII. "The loves of relatives in time wax weak, "For well I wot, 'twere worse than idle prate "To say that marriage is a bliss to all, "The foolish and the bad that sweet cup drug with gall." EMMA, the poor, suffering tender-hearted, patient, and exhausted Emma, not only exhausted by the sufferings of the dear departed one, in whose chamber she had faithfully and unremittingly watched for long, tedious and successive weeks, and whom she had never quitted for a moment during all the painful stages of his disease, now sunk under the last conflict, powerless and weak,―her tender and delicate frame was no longer proof to the struggling sigh breathed of mortal existence, and when fatally convinced that the sad scene was closed for ever, and that the beloved object before her was indeed no more, she could not stifle her feelings, so painfully and so long suppressed in the apprehension of disturbing his expiring moments, and a violent hysteric affection ensued. William had expired so gently, that he seemed only to slumber; his hand to the very last had rested on hers, and it was not till she gradually felt the icy perspiration of it on her own, that, looking at Dr. Starmer, she uttered a piercing shriek, and exclaiming, "He is gone for ever!" fell instantly insensible into the arms of her uncle Clarendale, who was standing near the bed-side in hourly expectation of hearing the last sigh of his expiring nephew. Mr. Trelawney had only for a moment stepped into the adjoining chamber, wholly unable to stifle the feelings of a father; and the delicate state of health which Lady Wyndham was now in had greatly alarmed the fears of her husband, in whose arms she had fainted when she beheld the last of her dying brother, and he was obliged to remove her instantly into the adjoining apartment, whither Mr. Trelawney, Ellen, and Mary immediately followed; and, while the tears gushed invo luntarily from his own eyes, he softly whispered to his weeping children, who thronged around Lady Wyndham,-"My dear children, do not weep thus ;-see how it distresses your sister, who is so unwell;-pray, pray endeavour to compose yourselves." “I will, I will indeed, dear papa, if I can,” cried Ellen, rubbing her sister's temples; while Mary had crept to a corner of the room, not exchanging a word with any one, and though her little feeling and susceptible heart had just beheld a scene the most awful and solemn that her youthful eyes had ever yet witnessed, (her brother's deathbed,) yet the little pious creature never ceased to pray, and consoled herself with the reflection that her brother would feel no more pain, when he was carried up into Heaven by the angels that he said he had seen, and was going to; for Mary had treasured up every word that she had heard William utter ;—she had seen him give her cousin Emma to her brother Tanjore; and the innocent little creature (too young to search very deeply into the recesses of the human heart) began actually to rejoice that Emma would be her sister instead of her cousin at the very moment that the piercing cry of Emma was heard to resound through the chambers, and too fatally proclaimed, by her distracting grief, that William was now no more! Lord Wyndham instantly quitted the side of his trembling Alexina, and besought his father-in-law not to go in; but Mr. Trelawney broke from his outstretched arms, and rushed into the chamber, now indeed of death. Poor Emma was already in the arms of Dr. Starmer, and Fothersgill and Tanjore forcibly detained the distracted father from going near the bed, the curtains of which were immediately closed, and they led him instantly into the adjoining room, whither Emma was directly brought by Dr. Starmer, and laid on the sofa, where every propermeans were taken for her recovery; and perhaps it was the first sight which Mr.Trelawney caught of this suffering girl, which at all lessened the violence of his immoderate grief. In a voice convulsed by emotion, he exclaimed, while he grasped the hand of the worthy Doctor, "Save but that child," uttered he, while tears rolled expressively down his cheek," save but that precious relic of poor lost William's affection, more precious now to me than language can express! ten thousand times dearer to me than ever, and I will pray for, you, Starmer, as the guardian angel of my hopes, my happiness in this created world." To which Dr. Starmer, considerably affected, and motioning him to silence, replied, in a soft whisper, "I will do all that is required, but, for God's sake, my dear friend, compose yourself, and set your children an example of fortitude in this trying hour;-I can do nothing while I see you so distressed. I must have Miss Bradbury immediately put to bed; she is completely worn out with mental suffering and bodily fatigue. Consider what she has endured,―her constitution is greatly injured, and there is nothing but quiet which will now avail. In the mean time let us instantly remove to another apartment: I will not suffer you to be here, Trelawney, a moment longer. Come, I must positively insist on being major-domo of your family, and of Lord Wyndham's too : Lady Wyndham must instantly retire,—she is by no means able to encounter the scenes here." "Yes, I must go home," cried Lady Wyndham; "for, indeed, indeed, I feel very ill, Dr. Starmer; but pray let me see my dear mother- -oh, let me but see my mother?" "That I will not do at present, certainly, my dear Lady Wyndham : it cannot answer any purpose, for we shall have enough to do with Mrs. Trelawney;-for your own sake be cautious," cried the Doctor.. 66 My dearest girl, pray be advised by Dr. Starmer," cried her father, affectionately taking her hand, and kissing her cheek; “I will see you, my love, when I am more composed but go, my Alexina, -your delicate situation, by staying in Berkeley Square, will only expose you to great conflicts, and can avail your mother nothing, while it may bring on consequences dangerous to yourself." "Will you, my dearest, now be persuaded?" cried Lord Wyndham, tenderly approaching her; and his Lordship's carriage was immediately ordered, without a dissenting word. But Lady Wyndham did not leave her father's house without kissing the pale cheek of poor Emma, who had been immediately conveyed to her own chamber, and was now in bed, with Mrs. Pelham watching in her apartment, all access being denied by the Doctor to any one beside. Emma was sensible when Lady Wyndham approached her, but her voice was so tremulous and weak, that she could hardly bid her farewell; nor was her Ladyship much better, when her Lord conducted her to the carriage, which had been drawn up to the door in the most gloomy silence, all the windows of the house being nearly closed. 置 The melancholy tidings having been already spread in the neighbourhood, by whom the name of Trelawney was adored, there was not a tradesman who did not manifest his respect and grief on the present occasion, many of whom had actually closed part of their shutters as soon as the death of Mr. William Trelawney had reached their ears; and many went to the house in consequence, to inquire of the porter after the state of the health of this amiable family, thus testifying their most unfeigned and sincere regret for the domestic calamity which their benevolent and kind patron was labouring under. As to the domestics, there was not an eye dry, nor a heart that did not deeply mourn at the death of their beloved young master, and sympathize in the sorrows of their amiable master and mistress; and though Tanjore had in many respects been a greater favourite than his brother, on account of his more open disposition, and frank ingenuousness of manners, yet William Trelawney had never been a niggard with his father's servants, and, having it more in his power, had very liberally rewarded them on several occasions. But his own valet had most cause to lament the untimely death of his belov ed young master; and the grief of poor honest Christopher was so great, that he was many days confined to his chamber in consequence, which Mr. Trelawney was no sooner made acquainted with than he desired that every care and attention might be shown to him, and said that when he was better he would speak to him. Five days had now elapsed since the death of her beloved son, and still Mrs. Trelawney was unacquainted with the fatal catastrophe, though she had probably guessed it from the sorrowful countenances of those who surrounded her. She had inquired for Emma, and was told that she was confined to her chamber. She next asked for Alexina, but was informed that Lady Wyndham was at her residence in South Audley Street, too unwell to go abroad. "Then where is Tanjore ?" cried Mrs. Trelawney ;" and where is my husband?” "My father and brother Tanjore are both ill, indeed, dear mamma," said Ellen, who was sitting beside her, with Mary, whose eyes were both red with weeping. "Poor papa has been so sadly --and so is brother Tanjore ; and sister Alexina was so ill when she went away, that Dr. Starmer said she must keep herself so quiet,— and then she wanted to see you, mamma, so sadly but Dr. Starmer would not let her." "It is very strange that neither your father nor Tanjore told me a word about this yesterday," cried Mrs. Trelawney, looking at Mrs. Clarendale," Mary, why did you not tell me that Emma was ill, and my poor Alley too? and yet none of you would tell me.- -And how is William ?- -tell me, Mary, how is my poor boy?" Mrs. Clarendale was silent; and Mary and Ellen could now scarcely conceal their flowing tears from their mother, who repeated, "Mary, how is William ?" To which Mrs. Clarendale at length falteringly replied,— "Dearest Rosa, compose yourself, but do not ask me these distressing questions. William is-notworse- -and I am . sure he is quite relieved from pain." The fatal truth now flashed at once on the heart of the adoring mother, and she exclaimed,- "He is dead! -yes, I know that my William is dead, and none of you will in pity tell me when he departed. Oh, Mary, wherefore do you weep, when I, his mother, cannot shed one tear to ease my bursting heart? Ah, I saw that my Trelawney was sadly changed, and his poor eyes were full of heaviness and grief! My Tanjore, too, could scarcely speak without tears!Well, well, the will of Heaven be done! My dear child was spotless, in the possession of every good and gentle virtue, nor harmed he mortal; and he is now in the bosom of angels-yet- -yet-I feel I am a mother, and know how to bear the separation which but for a transitory space of time is placed between us. I shall meet him again, Mary!--I shall see my William again fresh in unsullied beauty!—He will know his mother-yes,-let me hope that he will be permitted to know the mother who so dearly loved him.My Emma, too, what has she suffered—what has she undergone for William's sake? Ah, no doubt but she is sadly worn, dear girl! Her gentle frame sinks under conflicts so great, and perhaps I shall lose her too." "No, dearest Rosa, indulge not in such tears,” cried Mrs. Clarendale, who greatly apprehended, from the increasing languor and paleness of the countenance of Mrs. Trelawney, that she would now speedily relapse into those dreadful hysteric faintings to which she had lately been so frequently subject, since her knowledge of her No. 14. 42 |