The Mothers Recompense, Volume II. | Page 9

uncle's sake as
well as your own, my best wishes and my best offices shall be
exercised in tacking on lieutenant to your name."
"And you will do nothing, then, for my sake, Sir George, nor for my
aunt's, whose dignity your sadness has offended?" said Ellen, smiling,
as did Mrs. Hamilton.
"Your aunt would forgive my sadness, my dear child, did she know its
cause. I was wrong to encourage it, but I could not look on these bright
features," he laid his hand, which trembled, on Edward's arm, "without
seeing again past times peopled with those who have passed away. Mrs.
Hamilton, I thought again the merry favourite of my old friend, your
father, stood before me, the gay, the thoughtless, lovely Eleanor; she
was like him, in the bloom of youth and freshness, when I last beheld
her; and I thought, as mine eye glanced on this well known uniform,
there was another still of whom he reminded me,--the adopted son of
my affections, the darling of my childless years, Charles, my gallant
warm-hearted Charles! Nearly six years was he with me, when his
courage earned him a lieutenant's berth; he changed his quarters and his
commander, and I saw him no more. Such was he; such--oh, I thought
Eleanor and Charles again were before me, and I longed for the friend
of my early years, to recognise in his grandson the features of his
Eleanor, the voice, the laugh, and figure of his Charles. Forgive me, my
dear children, I have frightened away your mirth, and made myself
gloomy."
There was silence as he ceased, and Sir George was the first to break it,
by addressing Edward with animation, questioning him as to all his

hopes and anticipations with regard to his promotion, which, as his six
years of service were now passed, he allowed to occupy his mind, and
in such conversation all traces of gloom quickly vanished; and Ellen,
interested in their conference, lingered near them in recovered spirits,
till the bell summoned all those who chose to join in the evening prayer.
All attended, except young Myrvin, who had departed. Herbert felt
anxious on his friend's account, for many reasons, which we must
postpone explaining till a future page; suffice it now to say that the
young man's conduct not seeming to be such as his profession
demanded, a degree of scarcely-perceptible, but keenly-felt coldness
was displayed towards him, both by Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Howard.
Herbert had this night remarked that his cheek was pale, his eye almost
haggard, and his words and manner often confused, and he had
endeavoured to elicit the cause of his inward disturbance, but
unsuccessfully; the young man, although very evidently unhappy,
appeared to shrink from his confidence, and Herbert, though grieved,
desisted from his friendly office. That night Mr. Hamilton resigned his
place at the reading-desk to the worthy minister, who, both in public
and private worship, knew so well the duties of his sacred office. He
read the chapters of the evening, with a brief but explanatory
commentary on each, and after the usual prayers, broke forth into a
strain of earnest thanksgiving for the safe return of him who, since he
had last addressed his God, surrounded by his family, had been
exposed to the temptations and dangers of the sea, and mercifully
preserved through them all, and permitted to return in joy and peace.
To all, save to the orphans and Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, his words
applied but to the terrors of the deep, but they well knew where the
thoughts of their minister had wandered; they knew that fervent
thanksgiving was offered up for his preservation from those sins which
had been his on his last return; they knew he blessed his Maker for the
promise of virtue he beheld; His grace had enabled him to overcome
temptation, and return to the home of his boyhood comparatively
unstained.
Edward contrasted his present feelings with those which he had
experienced the first night of his last return, and Ellen thought on that
bitter anguish, the public shame which had been hers in that very hall,

that very night three years before, and the young hearts of both the
orphans were filled with warm and deep thanksgiving. The thoughts of
all were composed and tranquillized when Mr. Howard ceased, and in
the little time that intervened between the conclusion of the service and
the family separating to their rooms, no light and frivolous converse
disturbed the solemn but sad impression on the minds of each.
"I cannot part from you for the night, my dear cousin," said Edward,
somewhat archly, though in a low voice, as he approached the spot
where Caroline and St. Eval stood, "without offering you my warmest
congratulations on your future