A Book for the Young | Page 9

thankful for his escape.
Ethelind saw he was wretched, and fancied Beatrice was, some how or other, the cause.
She pitied him, and prayed for him, but it was all she could do; but she was not sorry to
hear Beatrice say she had an invitation to Miss Fulton's wedding, which she was
determined to accept. The night previous to her departure, Mr. Barclay, unasked,
remained to tea, and when he took leave, he put a letter into the hand of Beatrice, which
she slipped into her pocket, she thought, unseen by any one, but Ethelind saw it, though
she took no notice, nor did Beatrice mention it Before retiring to rest, she read as
follows:--
"MY DEAR MISS TREVOR,
"I should ill act up to that fearless line of duty my sacred calling prescribes, were I not, as
a friend, to urge you to reflect on your present line of conduct, and ask you to pause on it,
ere you wreck, not only the happiness of others but your own, at the shrine of inordinate
vanity. Shall I honestly own, that mine has narrowly escaped being wrecked; and that,
from your own lips, I learnt such was the case. Believing you good and amiable, as you
seemed, I was fascinated, and allowed my feelings to outrun my judgment, and yet I can
hardly say that such was the case, for I thought you all a woman should be. Let me warn
and entreat you, on all future occasions, as you wish to be happy, to deal fairly and truly
with him who may seek to win your affection. I was an unwilling listener to your
conversation with Miss Fortescue, the other day, and there, from your own lips, learnt

that while engaged to another, you scrupled not to receive and encourage my attentions;
and more than that, you declared your resolution, of holding out hopes you never meant
to realize. Had I known you were bound to another, whatever my feelings had been for
you, I had never sought to win your love, but I fully believed you ingenuous as you
seemed. Had you not met the advances so sincerely made by me, with such seeming
pleasure, whatever the struggle might have cost me, it had passed in silence. I will
candidly own, that while my respect is lessened, I cannot forget what my feelings towards
you have been. Time alone can heal the peace of mind you have so recklessly wounded;
but I again advise you to reflect seriously on the past, and be assured, that she who
pursues such a line of conduct as you have done, will ever find it militate against her own
happiness, as well as that of others; and I fear, it has done so in the present instance, for
while smarting under the bitter feelings your behaviour called forth, I wrote to an
intimate friend, and spoke of my disappointment, and the struggle I had to obtain such a
mastery over myself, as would prevent it interfering with my duty. Unfortunately, that
friend was the very man to whom you are engaged; which I did not know at the time, nor
am I prepared to say if I had, how I should have acted. George Graham is an honourable
fellow, who believed you as faithful as himself. Thus has your thoughtless, nay, I will go
farther, and say highly culpable levity, sacrificed the happiness of two as honest hearts as
ever beat in the human breast; I would say I pity you, but I can hardly expect your own
peace to have suffered.
"Mine is a responsible and sacred calling; and feeling it to be such, I want, when I marry,
a woman who will aid, not hinder me in my arduous duties; I have, as far as human
infirmity permits, done with the world and its pleasures; but I am but mortal, and who
knows to what frivolity, nay to what sin, but for the merciful interposition of God, you
might have led me; and that, while bound to teach and guide others, I might, in my daily
conduct, have contradicted the truths I was bound to enforce.
"On first coming to reside here, I was much pleased with Miss Fortescue, and I felt that
with her, I could be happy, but her reserve made me fancy her indifferent to me, and I
judged she could not return my love; and while her conduct increased my esteem, I
resolved that I would not forfeit her friendship by persevering in attentions, I feared, she
cared not for. You came: your beauty struck me; your fascinating manners made an
impression I could not resist; your seeming pleasure in my attentions misled me, and my
heart was enslaved ere my judgment could act. But no