Home Influence: A Tale for Mothers and Daughters. Aguilar Grace
holy must be happy, notwithstanding; besides, to be loved so by Mrs. Hamilton and Herbert, discovered to her mind such superior qualities, that she almost wondered how Emmeline could speak of her so familiarly, and think of her as her own particular friend. But the conversation on her, and then on other topics, so interested her, that she was almost as sorry as her cousin, when it was interrupted by a visit from Lady Helen Grahame and her daughter.
"Returned at length, dearest Emmeline!" was the former's lively greeting, and evincing far more warmth of manner than was usual to her. "Do you know, the banks of the Dart have seemed so desolate without their guardian spirit, that the very flowers have hung their heads, and the trees are withered?"
"I rather think the change of season, and not my absence, has been the cause of these melancholy facts," replied Mrs. Hamilton, in the same tone; "but even London will not change your kind thoughts for me, Helen."
"Nay, I must follow the example of my neighbors, rich and poor, whom you may appeal to as to the fact of your absence causing terrible lamentation; ask this naughty little girl too, who scarcely ever came to see me, because she had so many things to do to please mamma; but forgive me," she added, more seriously, as she glanced on the deep mourning of her friend, and indeed of all the group; "what a cold, heartless being you must believe me to run on in this way, when there has been so sad a cause for your absence – poor Eleanor!"
"I trust we may say happy Eleanor, my dear Helen; mercy has indeed been shown to her and to me – but we will talk of this another time. Annie," she continued, addressing Miss Grahame, who was already deep in conversation with Caroline, "I have another little girl to introduce to you, whom I hope you will be as friendly with as with Caroline and Emmeline."
The young lady turned round at the words, but her sole notice of Ellen, who had come timidly forward, was a haughty stare, a fashionable courtesy, and a few unintelligible words, which caused Emmeline to feel so indignant, that it was with difficulty she kept silence, and made Ellen so uncomfortable, that it was with even more than her usual shyness, she received Lady Helen's proffered hand.
"And why not introduce her to me too, Emmeline? I knew your mother when she was little older than you are, my dear; so I hope you will learn to know and to like me as fast as you can."
Ellen might have found courage to reply for there was an interest attached to all who had known her mother; but as she raised her eyes to speak, she again encountered Annie's rude and disagreeable stare, and the words died on her lips. The young party were, however, soon all in the garden, for Mrs. Hamilton never made any scruple in dismissing her children, when she wished to speak on subjects she did not choose them to hear; and she was anxious so to relate Eleanor's illness and change of sentiment, as to remove the impressions which her early career had left on Lady Helen's memory.
"It must be nearly time for my brothers to be returning; shall we go and look for them, Ellen? I dare say Edward will have a great deal to tell you," was Emmeline's affectionate address, as Annie and Caroline turned in a different direction; and generally judging others by herself, she thought that being Edward's first day of regular attendance on Mr. Howard, Ellen would like to know all about it as soon as possible, and they proceeded accordingly.
"Well, how do you like your new cousins, what are they like?" inquired Miss Grahame, the moment she had Caroline entirely to herself.
"Edward I think I may like very much; he is so affectionate and so good-natured, and as merry and full of fun as Percy. And he is so handsome, Annie, I think even you would admire him."
"Then altogether he must be very unlike his sister. I never saw a girl so plain, and I am sure she looks as if no fun could exist near her."
"Mamma says we must remember how short a time has elapsed since poor aunt's death, and also that Ellen is not strong enough to be very lively."
"That does not at all account for her looking cross. I am sure she has nothing to be ill-tempered about; there are few girls in her situation who would have made one of your family, as she will be. Mamma said it would be a very anxious thing for Mrs. Hamilton."
"Mamma did seem to think so," replied Caroline, thoughtfully; "but I fancy you are wrong, Annie. Ellen has not yet given any proof of ill-temper."
"She has had no time, my dear; but no one can be deceived by such a face. My cousin, Lady Adelaide Maldon, told me she could always judge people by their faces. But do you like her as well as her brother, Caroline?"
"Ask me that question this day month, my dear Annie; I can not answer you now, for I really do not know. I certainly do not see any thing particularly striking in her yet – I do not understand her; she is so dreadfully shy or timid, and so very inanimate, one can not tell whether she is pleased or sorry. To tell you the real truth, I am afraid I shall not like her."
"Why afraid?"
"Because mamma would be so sorry were she to know it. I know she wishes us to love one another."
"Nonsense, Caroline. Mrs. Hamilton can not be so unreasonable as to expect you to love every body alike."
"Mamma is never unreasonable," replied Caroline, with spirit; "and I do wish, Annie, you would treat Ellen exactly as you do us."
"Indeed, I shall not. What is Colonel Fortescue's daughter to me? Now don't be angry, Caroline, you and I are too old friends to quarrel for nothing: I shall certainly hate Ellen altogether, if she is to be a subject of dispute. Come, look kind again;" and the caress with which she concluded restored Caroline's serenity, and other subjects were discussed between them.
Annie Grahame was a few months younger than Caroline Hamilton (who was nearly thirteen,) but from having been emancipated from the nursery and school-room at a very early age, and made her mother's companion and confidant in all her home vexations – very pretty and engaging – she was very much noticed, and her visits to her titled relations in London, by causing her to imitate their fashionable manners, terms of speech, thoughts on dress, and rank, &c., made her a woman many years before her time; and though to Lady Helen's family and to Lady Helen herself this made her still more agreeable, from becoming so very companionable; to Mrs. Hamilton, and to all, in fact, who loved childhood for childhood's sake, it was a source of real regret, as banishing all the freshness and artlessness and warmth which ought to have been the characteristics of her age. Her father was the only one of her own family who did not admire – and so tried to check – this assumption of fine ladyism, on the part of his daughter; but it was not likely he could succeed, and he only estranged from him the affections of his child.
Annie Grahame had a great many fashionable acquaintances in London, but she still regarded Caroline Hamilton as her favorite friend. Why, she could not exactly tell, except that it was so very, very delightful to have some one in the country to whom she could dilate on all the pleasures of London, display her new dresses, new music, drawings, work, &c. (not however considering it at all necessary to mention that her work and drawings were only half her own, and Caroline was much too truthful herself to imagine it, and her mother too anxious to retain that guileless simplicity to enlighten her, as she was well capable of doing). Annie's quick eye discovered that at such times Caroline certainly envied her, and she imagined she must be a person of infinite consequence to excite such a feeling, and this was such a pleasant sensation, that she sought Caroline as much as possible during their stay at Moorlands. Of Mrs. Hamilton, indeed, she stood in such uncomfortable awe, though that lady never addressed her except in kindness, that as she grew older, it actually became dislike; but this only increased her intimacy with Caroline, whom she had determined should be as unlike her mother as possible; and as this friendship was the only one of his daughter's sentiments which gave Mr. Grahame unmixed satisfaction, he encouraged it by bringing them together as often as he could.
Emmeline and Ellen, meanwhile, had pursued their walk in silence, both engrossed with their own thoughts (for that children of eleven years, indeed, of any age, do not think, because when asked what they are thinking about, their answer is invariably "Nothing," is one of those mistaken notions which modern education is, we hope, exploding). Emmeline was so indignant with Annie that she felt more sure than ever that she did not and could never like her. "She is always talking of things mamma says are of such little consequence, and is so proud and contemptuous, and I am afraid she does not always tell the