The Purcell Papers, vol 3 | Page 9

Ashtown House. The carriage stood at the hall- door, and my poor
sister kissed me again and again, telling me that I should see her soon.
The carriage drove away, and I gazed after it until my eyes filled with
tears, and, returning slowly to my chamber, I wept more bitterly and, so
to speak, more desolately, than ever I had done before.
My father had never seemed to love or to take an interest in me. He had
desired a son, and I think he never thoroughly forgave me my
unfortunate sex.
My having come into the world at all as his child he regarded as a kind
of fraudulent intrusion, and as his antipathy to me had its origin in an
imperfection of mine, too radical for removal, I never even hoped to
stand high in his good graces.
My mother was, I dare say, as fond of me as she was of anyone; but she
was a woman of a masculine and a worldly cast of mind. She had no
tenderness or sympathy for the weaknesses, or even for the affections,
of woman's nature and her demeanour towards me was peremptory, and
often even harsh.
It is not to be supposed, then, that I found in the society of my parents
much to supply the loss of my sister. About a year after her marriage,
we received letters from Mr. Carew, containing accounts of my sister's
health, which, though not actually alarming, were calculated to make us
seriously uneasy. The symptoms most dwelt upon were loss of appetite
and cough.
The letters concluded by intimating that he would avail himself of my

father and mother's repeated invitation to spend some time at Ashtown,
particularly as the physician who had been consulted as to my sister's
health had strongly advised a removal to her native air.
There were added repeated assurances that nothing serious was
apprehended, as it was supposed that a deranged state of the liver was
the only source of the symptoms which at first had seemed to intimate
consumption.
In accordance with this announcement, my sister and Mr. Carew
arrived in Dublin, where one of my father's carriages awaited them, in
readiness to start upon whatever day or hour they might choose for
their departure
It was arranged that Mr. Carew was, as soon as the day upon which
they were to leave Dublin was definitely fixed, to write to my father,
who intended that the two last stages should be performed by his own
horses, upon whose speed and safety far more reliance might be placed
than upon those of the ordinary post-horses, which were at that time,
almost without exception, of the very worst order. The journey, one of
about ninety miles, was to be divided; the larger portion being reserved
for the second day.
On Sunday a letter reached us, stating that the party would leave
Dublin on Monday, and, in due course, reach Ashtown upon Tuesday
evening.
Tuesday came the evening closed in, and yet no carriage; darkness
came on, and still no sign of our expected visitors.
Hour after hour passed away, and it was now past twelve; the night was
remarkably calm, scarce a breath stirring, so that any sound, such as
that produced by the rapid movement of a vehicle, would have been
audible at a considerable distance. For some such sound I was
feverishly listening.
It was, however, my father's rule to close the house at nightfall, and the
window- shutters being fastened, I was unable to reconnoitre the
avenue as I would have wished. It was nearly one o'clock, and we
began almost to despair of seeing them upon that night, when I thought
I distinguished the sound of wheels, but so remote and faint as to make
me at first very uncertain. The noise approached; it became louder and
clearer; it stopped for a moment.
I now heard the shrill screaming of the rusty iron, as the avenue-gate

revolved on its hinges; again came the sound of wheels in rapid motion.
'It is they,' said I, starting up; 'the carriage is in the avenue.'
We all stood for a few moments breathlessly listening. On thundered
the vehicle with the speed of a whirlwind; crack went the whip, and
clatter went the wheels, as it rattled over the uneven pavement of the
court. A general and furious barking from all the dogs about the house,
hailed its arrival.
We hurried to the hall in time to hear the steps let down with the sharp
clanging noise peculiar to the operation, and the hum of voices exerted
in the bustle of arrival. The hall-door was now thrown open, and we all
stepped forth to greet our visitors.
The court was perfectly empty; the moon was shining broadly and
brightly