Ernest Linwood, by Caroline Lee
Hentz
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Title: Ernest Linwood or, The Inner Life of the Author
Author: Caroline Lee Hentz
Release Date: January 27, 2007 [EBook #20462]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ERNEST
LINWOOD ***
Produced by David Garcia, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced
from images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital
Library)
ERNEST LINWOOD;
OR,
THE INNER LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.
BY MRS. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ.
AUTHOR OF "LINDA; OR, THE YOUNG PILOT OF THE BELLE
CREOLE," "THE BANISHED SON," "COURTSHIP AND
MARRIAGE; OR, THE JOYS AND SORROWS OF AMERICAN
LIFE," "THE PLANTER'S NORTHERN BRIDE; OR, SCENES IN
MRS. HENTZ CHILDHOOD," "LOVE AFTER MARRIAGE,"
"MARCUS WARLAND; OR, THE LONG MOSS SPRING,"
"EOLINE; OR, MAGNOLIA VALE; OR, THE HEIRESS OF
GLENMORE," "HELEN AND ARTHUR; OR, MISS THUSA'S
SPINNING-WHEEL," "RENA; OR, THE SNOW BIRD," "THE LOST
DAUGHTER," "ROBERT GRAHAM;" A SEQUEL TO "LINDA,"
ETC.
PHILADELPHIA: T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 306
CHESTNUT STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by T. B.
PETERSON & BROTHERS
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and
for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
* * * * *
"Thou hast called me thine angel in moments of bliss, Still thine angel
I'll prove mid the horrors of this. Through the furnace unshrinking thy
steps I'll pursue, And shield thee, and save thee, and perish there too."
* * * * *
ERNEST LINWOOD.
CHAPTER I.
With an incident of my childhood I will commence the record of my
life. It stands out in bold prominence, rugged and bleak, through the
haze of memory.
I was only twelve years old. He might have spoken less harshly. He
might have remembered and pitied my youth and sensitiveness, that tall,
powerful, hitherto kind man,--my preceptor, and, as I believed, my
friend. Listen to what he did say, in the presence of the whole school of
boys, as well as girls, assembled on that day to hear the weekly
exercises read, written on subjects which the master had given us the
previous week.
One by one, we were called up to the platform, where he sat enthroned
in all the majesty of the Olympian king-god. One by one, the
manuscripts were read by their youthful authors,--the criticisms uttered,
which marked them with honor or shame,--gliding figures passed each
other, going and returning, while a hasty exchange of glances, betrayed
the flash of triumph, or the gloom of disappointment.
"Gabriella Lynn!" The name sounded like thunder in my ears. I rose,
trembling, blushing, feeling as if every pair of eyes in the hall were
burning like redhot balls on my face. I tried to move, but my feet were
glued to the floor.
"Gabriella Lynn!"
The tone was louder, more commanding, and I dared not resist the
mandate. The greater fear conquered the less. With a desperate effort I
walked, or rather rushed, up the steps, the paper fluttering in my hand,
as if blown upon by a strong wind.
"A little less haste would be more decorous, Miss."
The shadow of a pair of beetling brows rolled darkly over me. Had I
stood beneath an overhanging cliff, with the ocean waves dashing at
my feet, I could not have felt more awe or dread. A mist settled on my
eyes.
"Read,"--cried the master, waving his ferula with a commanding
gesture,--"our time is precious."
I opened my lips, but no sound issued from my paralyzed tongue. With
a feeling of horror, which the intensely diffident can understand, and
only they, I turned and was about to fly back to my seat, when a large,
strong hand pressed its weight upon my shoulder, and arrested my
flight.
"Stay where you are," exclaimed Mr. Regulus. "Have I not lectured you
a hundred times on this preposterous shame-facedness of yours? Am I a
Draco, with laws written in blood, a tyrant, scourging with an iron rod,
that you thus shrink and tremble before me? Read, or suffer the penalty
due to disobedience and waywardness."
Thus threatened, I commenced in a husky, faltering voice the reading of
lines which, till that moment, I had believed glowing with the
inspiration of genius. Now, how flat and commonplace they seemed! It
was the first time I had ever ventured to reveal to others the talent
hidden with all a miser's vigilance in
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