第36章
- TALES FOR FIFTEEN OR IMAGINATION AND HEART
- James Fenimore Cooper
- 1009字
- 2016-03-02 16:31:49
IT was quite early on the following morning, when Mr.Delafield rung at the door of the house in which the father of Miss Henly resided.The gentleman had obtained the permission of the young lady, the preceding evening, to put himself on the list of her visiting acquaintance, and a casual introduction to both of Charlotte's parents had smoothed the way to this intimacy.It is certain, that, much as Mr.and Mrs.Henly loved their child, neither of them entertained the selfish wish of monopolizing all of her affections to themselves during life.It was natural, and a thing to he expected, that Charlotte should marry; and among the whole of their acquaintance there appeared no one so unobjectionable as her new admirer.He was agreeable in person, in manners, and in temper; he was intelligent, witty, and a man of the world; and, moreover, he was worth--three hundred thousand dollars! What parent is there whose judgment would remain unbiassed by these solid reasons in favour of a candidate for the hand of his child? or what female is there whose heart could be steeled against such attractions in her suitor? Many were the hours of care that had been passed by the guardians of Charlotte's happiness, in ruminating on the event that was to yield their charge to the keeping of another; frequent were their discussions on this interesting subject, and innumerable their plans to protect her inexperience against falling into those errors that had blasted the peace of so many around them; but the appearance of Seymour Delafield seemed as the fulfilment of their most sanguine expectations.To his refinement of manners, they both thoughtthat they could yield the sensitive delicacy of their child with confidence; in his travelled experience they anticipated the permanency of a corrected taste; nor, was it a disagreeable consideration to either, that as the silken cord of paternal discipline was to be loosened, it was to be succeeded by the fetters of hymen cast in polished gold.In what manner their daughter regarded the evident admiration of Mr.Delafield will appear, by her conclusion of our tale.
On entering the parlour, Delafield found George Morton seated in a chair near the fire, with his person more than usually well guarded against the cold, as if he were suffering under the effects of a serious indisposition.The salutations between the young men were a little embarrassed on both sides; the face of George growing even paler than before, while the fine colour on Delafield's cheek mounted to his very temples.After regarding for a moment, with much inward dissatisfaction, the apparent ease with which George was maintaining possession of the apartment by himself, Mr.Delafield overcame the sudden emotion created by the surprise, and spoke.
"I am sorry that you appear so ill, Mr.Morton, and I regret that you should have suffered so much in the cause of humanity, when one so much better able to undergo the fatigue, by constitution, should have remained an idle spectator, like myself."--The silent bow of George might be interpreted into a desire to say nothing of his own conduct, or into an assent with the self-condemnation of the speaker.Delafield, however, took the chair which the other politely placed for him, and continued--"But, Sir, you have your reward.The interest and admiration excited in Miss Henly, would compensate me for almost any privation or hardship that man could undergo.""It is no hardship to ride a few miles in a comfortable coach," said George, with a feeble smile, "nor can I consider it a privation of enjoyment, to be able to assist the distressed,"--he hesitated a moment, and a flush gradually stole over his features as he continued, "It is true, Sir, that I prize the good opinion of Miss Henly highly, but I look to another quarter for approbation on such a subject.""And very justly, George," said the soft voice of Charlotte, "such applause as mine can be but of little moment to one who performs such acts as yours."The gentlemen were sitting with their faces towards the fire, and had not heard the light step of Miss Henly as she entered the apartment, but both instantly arose and paid their salutations; the invalid by a silent bow, and by handing a chair, and Delafield with many a graceful compliment on her good looks, and divers protestations concerning the pleasure he felt at being permitted to visit at her house.No two things could be more different than the manners of these gentlemen.That of the latter was very highly polished, insinuating, and although far from unpleasantly so, yet slightly artificial; while that of the former was simple, ingenuous, and in the presence of Miss Henly was apt to be at times a little constrained.Charlotte certainly perceived the difference, and she as certainly thought that it was not altogether to the advantage of George Morton.The idea seemed to give her pain, for she showed several little attentions to her old friend, that by their flattering, but unstudied particularity, were adapted to put any man at his ease and assure him of his welcome, still the embarrassment of George did not disappear, but he sat an uneasy listener to the conversation that occurred, as if reluctant to stay, and yet unwilling to depart.After a few observations on the entertainment of the preceding evening, Mr.Delafield continued--"I was lamenting to Mr.Morton, as you entered, that he should have suffered so much from my want of thought, the day before yesterday; it requires a good constitution to endure exposure--""And such I often tell you, George, you do not possess," said Charlotte, kindly and with a little melancholy; "yet you neither seem to regard my warnings on the subject, nor those of any of your friends"--"There is a warning that I have not disregarded," returned the youth, endeavouring to smile.
"And what is it?" asked Charlotte, struck with the melancholy resignation of his manner.