The World Before Them Volume Iii Part 9

"It may be better with him than you suppose," suggested Dorothy. "Though unconscious to you, his soul may have been vividly awake to its spiritual danger; and pet.i.tions for mercy which he could not utter in the hearing of man may have been heard and answered in heaven."

"Thank you for that thought, dear girl, it is suggestive of some comfort. The thief on the cross might have been as regardless of his duty to G.o.d and his fellow men, as my poor brother; yet, his pet.i.tion received a gracious hearing and a blessed promise. We cannot judge others as the great Searcher of hearts judges them. Many a criminal in our estimation may s.h.i.+ne hereafter a gem in His crown."

There was a pause for some minutes, and Gerard Fitzmorris continued pacing the study with rapid steps, so wrapt up in his own thoughts, that he had almost forgotten the figure in black that sat so pale and still in his easy chair.

"Come and take a turn with me in the open air," he said, suddenly returning to her side. "The atmosphere of this place is close and stifling, the evening excessively warm. I can always think and speak more freely beneath the canopy of heaven."

Dorothy had not removed her bonnet and shawl, and they strolled out upon the heath. During their ramble, he made her recount all that had happened since Gilbert's return, and was shocked at the manner in which she had been treated.

"There is only one way to punish such people," he said, "to return good for evil. It is not only the best, but the easiest way, and the peace and satisfaction it confers, repays the injury a thousand fold. I have tried it in many instances, and have experienced its happy results."

"It sounds excellent in theory," said Dorothy, "but I find it a hard doctrine to reduce to practice."

"Nay, Dorothy, it is the theory which is difficult; for our sinful human nature with its perverted reason, rebels against it, the other course being more in unison with its vindictive feelings, and the spirit of retaliation by which we are more or less governed. If, however, we make the slightest effort on the side of mercy and forgiveness, the Spirit of G.o.d working with our spirit, makes it not only easy, but brings with it the utmost peace and satisfaction, verifying even the old pagan maxim, 'that virtue is its own reward.' Our blessed Lord would never have promulgated a doctrine which could not be reduced to practice, and which he carried fully out in his own person."

"But then, He was so different from us."

"Not while He partook of our nature. He was subjected to temptations as great, or even greater than those that He taught us by precept and example to shun. If there had been no conflict with evil, there would have been no victory. Remember He fought the battle for us alone and single handed, without praying for the legion of angels to a.s.sist Him in the awful struggle. We have not only His example to help us, but the powerful aid He promised to all who would take up the cross and follow Him. Our very weakness const.i.tutes our strength when upheld by His saving arm."

After a walk of some minutes in silence, he said in a more lively manner. "Dorothy, you must forgive this cruel woman, and only indulge the G.o.d-like revenge of doing her good for the evil she has done to you.

Take her conduct as a life trial, and bear it with the courage of a Christian."

"I will endeavour to do so," returned Dorothy, "and when you are near to advise and strengthen me, I do not feel it so hard to restrain these resentful feelings; but, directly, I am left to myself, I grow fierce and angry, and wish that my persecutors may meet with the punishment they deserve."

"Dorothy!" said Mr. Fitzmorris, stopping and looking earnestly into her face. "Will you answer me truly, a simple and straightforward question?"

His companion looked up with a wondering smile. "Would you like to remain always with me, Dorothy? Will you become my bosom friend--my faithful counsellor--my beloved wife, bound to me by that blessed and holy tie, 'the love of Christ.' One with me in heart and purpose, in the bond of faith and love and charity with all mankind. Answer me, Dorothy, fully and freely, with the beautiful candour which makes you so charming in my eyes. Can you love me, as well as you loved Gilbert Rushmere?"

"Yes better than anything on earth," whispered Dorothy, without venturing to lift her eyes, or wipe away the tears she was unable to restrain, and sinking into the arms which were held out to receive her.

"I never knew what it was to love truly, devotedly and with my whole heart until now."

"We are one, my own Dorothy, my beloved, in heart and soul, and henceforth I trust for ever," and he sealed the contract of their engagement with a kiss as pure from the dross of pa.s.sion, as the young mother bestows upon her firstborn child.

"Oh, Mr. Fitzmorris, I am not worthy of your love;" sobbed Dorothy. "A highly connected man like you should seek out a fitter mate than me."

"You should have thought of that before you gave your sanction to my proposal, little wife." And the old beautiful smile lighted up his face.

"It is too late to draw back now. If I did not love you better than the world and its foolish conventionalisms, I should not have asked you to be mine. I value the gift that G.o.d has bestowed upon me, too highly, to give it up for the prejudices that belong to wealth and caste. You have made me very happy, Dorothy darling, as little Henry calls you. Poor little fellow, I am afraid that he will feel very jealous of his big rival."

And Dorothy was happy, too happy to waste her joy in words. As she leaned upon the strong arm of her n.o.ble protector, she realized the delightful consciousness, that she was no longer alone in the world.

The lovers lingered upon the heath talking over their future prospects, until the moon rose and shed her melancholy loveliness on ocean and heath.

They were not to marry until after Lord Wilton's return, and Gerard thought it advisable, that both should write to him and make him acquainted with their engagement. He did not wish it to be kept secret.

He thought that Dorothy's claim upon his protection would prevent unpleasant scandal, silence the foolish tattling of her former acquaintance, and conduce to her own peace and comfort. His character stood too high for his conduct to be attributed to base and dishonourable motives; and as his affianced wife, Dorothy would rise in the estimation of her worldly neighbours.

They found Mrs. Martin waiting tea for them, and wondering what had detained them so long from the social meal. The shy, conscious look on Dorothy's face revealed the mystery, which Gerard wholly cleared up, when he pleasantly introduced her to his old friends as his future wife.

"Lady Dorothy Fitzmorris," said the curate, rubbing his hands with great glee, "I wish you much joy."

"The t.i.tle is rather premature," returned Gerard, gravely, "though it may fall to her only too soon. You know, Henry, that Gallio careth for none of these things. For the last three years I have been looking for a wife that would answer Solomon's description, 'A woman whose price is above rubies,' and I am fully persuaded that I have found my ideal in the dear girl before you. It little matters to me whether she be a peasant or a princess. The highest of all t.i.tles is comprised in that of a Christian."

"Mr. Fitzmorris, I honour you for your choice!" cried Mrs. Martin, "and rejoice at the good fortune of our young friend."

Dorothy, overwhelmed with the unexpected turn that her affairs had taken, sat with downcast eyes and averted head, in order to conceal her quivering lips and fast-coming tears; yet she was happy, far too happy to speak, and would gladly have left the table, to escape observation and commune with her own heart in the solitude of her chamber.

Gerard saw her confusion, and in order to restore her self-possession, called out gaily, "I hope, Mrs. Martin, you have reserved for us a good cup of tea, and have not been guilty of destroying Henry's nerves by giving him the strength of the pot. I a.s.sure you, I feel viciously hungry after a long day's fast, and am not yet sufficiently spiritualized to live wholly upon love."

Strangely enough, this speech, which was meant to raise Dorothy's spirits, recalled forcibly to her memory the conversation between herself and Gilbert Rushmere at the stile, when she had rallied him for saying, in such pa.s.sionate terms, "That if she refused to marry him, he would die of love." And now she was the betrothed of another, with a heart overflowing with joy and grat.i.tude that she could never be Gilbert's wife, while he had united his destiny with a woman whom he could neither love nor honour, and was more likely to die the victim of avarice than love. "How inscrutable," she thought, "are the ways of Providence. How little human wisdom could predict such a result."

Dorothy was no longer banished from the sacred study. Gerard insisted on her taking possession of the great leathern chair, while he composed those heart-searching sermons that were making his name known as an eloquent preacher.

When absorbed in his own meditations, the pale, fair-haired priest seemed scarcely conscious of her presence; but if, by chance, he encountered her look of devotional tenderness, the wonderful eyes responded with an earnest gaze of love and peace--their owner sometimes observing, with a sigh, "Dorothy, darling, I am too happy." Then Dorothy would creep to his side, or sit down on the stool at his feet, just to feel the pressure of his large white hand on her ebon ringlets, and hear him say, in his rich, deep voice, "G.o.d bless you, my dear girl."

And when the writing was laid aside for the day, and she accompanied him in his visits to the poor and suffering, she enjoyed with unspeakable delight the walk over the heath, and the share he allotted to her in his ministrations of charity.

Poor old Francis died during Mr. Fitzmorris' absence, but he still continued his visits to Hog Lane, to read and pray with its half-heathen inhabitants. He had made slow progress in the conversion of old Mrs. Bell, but her grandson, Ben, had become a reformed character, and was a monitor in s...o...b.. Sunday-school. Speaking of the grandmother, he said:

"It was difficult to make any religious impression upon minds whose feelings and faculties were deadened and rendered indifferent by age and infirmity. If they do not seek G.o.d in youth or middle life, they seldom draw near to Him after reaching the appointed age of man."

Returning from one of these parochial visits, Dorothy reminded her lover of a promise he had once made to her, of telling her some of the events of his former life, and the circ.u.mstances that had led to his conversion, and induced him to become a minister of the Gospel.

"I am glad you have asked me, Dorothy, I feel quite in a communicative mood this evening. You have made me acquainted with every page in your short eventful history; it is not fair that you should be kept in ignorance of mine, uninteresting as it may appear."

They sat down upon a sloping bank, crowned with a screen of tall furze bushes, among whose honeyed blossoms, bees and b.u.t.terflies were holding a carnival. The sun had not yet set, and his slanting rays gleaming over the wide heath, obscured every object with their golden radiance.

"It is a shame to turn our backs upon that glorious suns.h.i.+ne," said Dorothy, "but my eyes are dazzled and blinded by excess of light."

"What a type of the beautiful but fallacious visions of youth," said Gerard, "when we behold everything through a false medium, coloured by fancy to suit our own taste. Truth lies at the bottom of the picture, like the ragged landscape that the golden sunset hides from our view.

While attracted by the brilliancy of his beams and building castles among the clouds, we forget the barren soil and the bare rocks beneath our feet. Mine is no tale of romance, gentle wife, though I have been a great dreamer in my day, but one of sad reality; and that I may avoid trespa.s.sing too much upon your patience, I will endeavour to be as brief as possible."

CHAPTER VII.

A CONFESSION.

"My father, Colonel Gerard Fitzmorris, was brother to Sir Thomas, the father of the present Earl of Wilton. Gerard was many years younger than his brother; a large family having died between their respective births.

He held the rank of colonel in the army, and served the whole of the American War of Independence, and had gained the reputation of a brave and distinguished officer. After the termination of the struggle, he returned to England, and married Lady Charlotte Granville, sister to the Lady Dorothy Fitzmorris. These beautiful and accomplished women, were the only children of the late Earl of Wilton.

"This was an excellent match for my father, in the common parlance of the world; but was one entirely of convenience on his part. He was a handsome das.h.i.+ng soldier, and was held in great esteem by men of his own cla.s.s, who considered him the model of a perfect gentleman and a leader in the ranks of fas.h.i.+on, where he shone as a star of the first magnitude. In short, he was one of those easy-going reckless men, who are known among their companions as excellent fellows. Men, whose hearts are in the right place, who spend their money freely and are only enemies to themselves. They may drink, and swear, and gamble, and break G.o.d's commandments with impunity; drawing others into the same maddening vortex by their vile example; but the world, for which they live, excuses all their faults. They are of it, have sworn allegiance to it body and soul, and as long as they retain wealth and influence, it will continue to make idols of them.

"Colonel Fitzmorris, in addition to all these conventional advantages, possessed the act of pleasing in an eminent degree, and was admired and courted by the other s.e.x as the beau ideal of manly beauty and elegance.

Doubtless it was these external graces that captivated and won the heart of my mother.

"People wondered that the proud Earl should give his consent to the marriage of his daughter, with a man of moderate fortune and dissipated habits; but she was the child of his old age, the sole fruit of a second marriage; another petted idol of his heart. From a baby she had been used to have her own way, and the doting father could not withstand her pa.s.sionate appeals to his parental affection, to be allowed to marry the man of her own choice.

"The Earl, in this case, appears reluctantly to have yielded to her wishes; and delayed the marriage until after she had attained her majority; hoping that time and the gaieties of London would divert her affections from my father, and concentrate them upon a more eligible object. She, however, remained firm to her attachment, and their marriage was celebrated with unusual magnificence. A prince of the blood royal gave away the bride, who inherited a fine fortune from her mother, which, I fear, was the sole inducement my father had in making her his wife.