CHAPTER XXIV. "Have angels sinned?-and shall not man beware ? "Not folded arms, nor slackness of the mind, "None are supinely good ;-through care and pain, "His joys are joys of conquest, not of peace." Nor all the persuasions of Mr. Clarendale, united to the affectionate entreaties of Lucy and Sedley, could prevail on Mr. Trelawney to stay an hour in Kenilworth after the melancholy ceremony was over. Anxiety for the feelings of his beloved wife was a greater consideration at the present moment than any earthly one beside; and though Dr. Starmer suggested the propriety of his staying all night at the Hermitage, yet he would not listen to a word uttered on the subject, though never had the worthy physician seen his beloved friend so greatly exhausted by internal agitation, which, having been so long suppressed in the bosom of his afflicted family, now had operated the more forcibly on his mind and feelings. At length, Mr. Clarendale, though he could ill be spared from the respective duties of his situation, was compelled to return with him again to the metropolis, which was accomplished in a much less distance of time than when they had set out on the mournful occasion; and, the moment they arrived in Berkeley Square, the gloomy cavalcade was instantly dismissed, and Mr. Trelawney, more exhausted by mental sufferings than even by bodily fatigue, was received by Lady Wyndham at the door of the drawing room. She was excessively shocked at the appearance of her beloved father, who was even supported to a chair by Fothersgill, and obliged to take a glass of water before he could utter a word, and then he tremulously exclaimed,"Your mother, my child!-speak, how is your dear mother?" To which Lady Wyndham, pressing her father's hand to her lips, instantly replied,— "Indeed she is much more composed than any of us dared to hope she would have been after your departure to Kenilworth, from which we did not expect you would have returned so soon; but you are ill, my dear father, indeed you are very ill,—pray take some refreshment; or retire to your chamber, and I will send you some immediately." Dr. Starmer now added his entreaties to those of his daughter that he would instantly go to bed. Lady Wyndham is giving you excellent advice, and let me prevail on you to follow it, my dear Trelawney," cried the worthy Doc tor. "What! before I have seen my wife?" cried Mr. Trelawney. "Most assuredly; I would by no means have you converse with Mrs. Trelawney to-night," replied Dr. Starmer; "you hear that you are not expected home to-night;-be persuaded, then, my dearest friend, and to-morrow you will be more collected." Mr. Trelawney now took the advice of his friends, and retired with Tanjore; but it was not till successive weeks had elapsed before this amiable family were at all reconciled to the affecting loss they had sustained; and there were times when the memory of the dear departed William was held in such sacred remembrance by Mr. Trelawney, that he could not converse even with his most intimate friends. Time, however, imperceptibly draws a veil over events which have been marked by the peculiar hand of destiny; and there is no affliction which it sends that it does not assist human fortitude to sustain, nor is there any thing but a consciousness of guilt alone which can render man miserable for life. All the requests of the departed William were faithfully complied with by his father, with respect to the bequests he had made to his relatives, and every wish that he had expressed was conscientiously and fondly remembered, and punctually performed, a very short time after his demise; and Christopher had his choice, either to remain in the service of Mr.Trelawney or be provided for in any other capacity, to which was added an annuity for the residue of his life. "Let me remain with you, then, Sir," said Christopher, "and prove my gratitude to the end of my existence. I should never be happy if I lived out of your family, and, so please you, permit me to end my days in it." "So be it, honest Christopher," cried Mr. Trelawney, much af fected by the grateful attachment which the poor fellow had evinced to the memory of his beloved master; "you shall remain with me at present in the capacity you did with my beloved son, and when I go to India I will then make you my steward. I shall still require the services of Watkins in that capacity during my absence from England, and this situation will be open for you while I continue there." The astonishment of Christopher, on hearing this intelligence, could only be equalled by his gratitude for the high place of office to which he was assigned; and he exclaimed, "To India, Sir!—and are you then going to India?” "In a very few months, Christopher," replied Mr. Trelawney; "Not I alone ;-but the whole of my family (Lord and Lady Wyndham excepted) will accompany me. I have business of high importance to transact in that country, and it cannot be done by agency; it is therefore necessary that I should appear personally. Change of scene and change of climate is absolutely desirable, in the gloom which the death of my poor boy has created in the minds of his afflicted relatives; and as it is also strongly recommended for the restoration of Mrs. Trelawney's health, I do not know of a more prudent plan to effect this change, than by removing them for a short time from this country." Of course, this answer being perfectly conclusive of the fixed intentions of Mr. Trelawney, Christopher did not presume to interrogate him further on the subject, but bowed respectfully and retired. It is most certain that this plan had long been projected and seriously talked of by Mr. Trelawney, ever since he had received letters from his correspondents in India; for he had still large possessions there, which, by the death of his principal agent, he was now called upon personally to arrange; Trelawney Castle being entirely unoccupied, with the plantation which belonged to it, and which Mr. Trelawney now intended to dispose of, and settle the whole of his property in England. On these intentions he had consulted with his amiable son-in-law Lord Wyndham, and Dr. Starmer, who protested that he could not have adopted a wiser resolution than in this change of climate; a change would speedily be effected on the minds and feelings both of Mrs. Trelawney and Miss Bradbury, whose constitutions had been so greatly impaired by recent events and mental sufferings. "As to the latter of these ladies, you well know my sentiments on that head, dear Trelawney," cried the Doctor; "I proposed to you, some months ago, a change of climate, as the only restorative likely to amend the health of this dear little delicate creature." "You did, dear Starmer," answered Mr. Trelawney," and I have ever since been brooding on what you remarked, though I dared not hint it to Rosa." "Nor need you," replied the Doctor; " you need not hint it to any body, that I know of, except the present company; but I positively do say again that Emma Bradbury is consumptive, and if she continues much longer in this country she will be more so." 66 Why, I will own that I have sometimes thought so myself,” said Lord Wyndham; "for the dear girl is but a shadow of that lovely form which once glowed in bloom and beauty." It may very naturally be imagined, that, after this unreserved conversation with his two most dear and confidential friends, that Mr. Trelawney very soon proposed to his beloved wife that she should accompany him in his voyage to India. "What! and our children too?" cried Mis. Trelawney, a little impatiently. “Yes, my love, our children too," answered Mr. Trelawney, and smiled. "All our children?" repeated she again; "Tanjore !-does Tanjore go to India with us, Trelawney?" Mr. Trelawney hesitated; but, marking the melancholy expression which had taken possession of the features of his beloved Rosa, at length replied, "I will own, my dear, I had other views for Tanjore, and I wished him to travel for one or two years. You know I had proposed to your brother that his cousin Sedley should accompany him ;-poor Sedley is almost a recluse, the dear boy has set his mind on this; he bears in memory the promise his uncle gave him, and I am bound to perform it. But I will not make my Rosa uncomfortable,-Tanjore shall go with us to India, and Sedley too, if my Rosa wishes it. Say that you will but smile, say that you will but be happy, and every wish of yours shall be gratified." Rosa did smile, but it was only through her tears; and as her fond husband kissed them off, she acknowledged that she must be the most ungrateful of all earthly creatures if she was not happy with such a man. The fact was, that since the death of poor William Mrs. Trelawney dreaded to part with now her only son, Tanjore, of whom she was more passionately fond than ever; and whenever his father talked of the projected tour with him and his cousin Sedley, she desponded of ever seeing him again. Twice had Lady Honoria, and even the Duke of Belmont, written to invite him again to Dumfairling Castle; but his mother would not suffer him to leave her, and Mr. Trelawney was under the necessity of informing them of the cause. Meanwhile, in private, Mr. Trelawney had several conversations with Tanjore on the subject, not that he ever suspected that Tanjore had a passion for the lovely daughter of his noble friend, he knew well where the affections of Tanjore were fixed, but he began to imagine, from their pressing entreaties, that the beautiful Jean had conceived an attachment towards his son; and one evening, as they sat alone, Mr. Trelawney began to interrogate Tanjore thus, while he held the letter of Lady Honoria Belmont open in his hand, reading aloud the following paragraph: “Our Jean, too, greatly laments the absence of our dear Tanjore. You cannot conceive, Trelawney, what delightful companions they were for each other: I have seen them from my window, bounding over the mountains like two gamesome kids together, as sportive and as harmless;-Jean told her simple Scottish tales, and sometimes sang them; and Tanjore dwelt delighted on the sound, and confessed that her voice was melodious as the soft nightingale, when at dewy eve she pours forth her song of tuneful melody.” "Well, my boy, this was pretty well, I think," cried Mr. Trelawney, smiling, while he gazed at the crimson blush which now tinted highly the cheeks of Tanjore, during the time that his father was reading aloud this paragraph; "and if you made no other confession to the lovely Jean while you heard her sing so enchantingly, I wonder, since you already confessed so much. "You would not wonder if you had felt then, father, what I did,” cried Tanjore, with a look so full of ingenuousness and native truth, that Mr. Trelawney could no longer be mistaken in its meaning, and remained silent, watching progressively each varied turn in one of the most expressive and animated countenances (except his beloved Rosa's) in the whole world, while Tanjore continued," I am sure that I venerate and respect the character of dear Lady Honoria |