Mary | Page 7

to her;
she wished so continually to have a home to receive her in, that it drove
every other desire out of her mind; and, dwelling on the tender schemes
which compassion and friendship dictated, she longed most ardently to
put them in practice.
Fondly as she loved her friend, she did not forget her mother, whose
decline was so imperceptible, that they were not aware of her
approaching dissolution. The physician, however, observing the most
alarming symptoms; her husband was apprised of her immediate
danger; and then first mentioned to her his designs with respect to his
daughter.
She approved of them; Mary was sent for; she was not at home; she had
rambled to visit Ann, and found her in an hysteric fit. The landlord of
her little farm had sent his agent for the rent, which had long been due
to him; and he threatened to seize the stock that still remained, and turn
them out, if they did not very shortly discharge the arrears.
As this man made a private fortune by harassing the tenants of the
person to whom he was deputy, little was to be expected from his
forbearance.
All this was told to Mary--and the mother added, she had many other
creditors who would, in all probability, take the alarm, and snatch from
them all that had been saved out of the wreck. "I could bear all," she
cried; "but what will become of my children? Of this child," pointing to
the fainting Ann, "whose constitution is already undermined by care
and grief--where will she go?"--Mary's heart ceased to beat while she

asked the question--She attempted to speak; but the inarticulate sounds
died away. Before she had recovered herself, her father called himself
to enquire for her; and desired her instantly to accompany him home.
Engrossed by the scene of misery she had been witness to, she walked
silently by his side, when he roused her out of her reverie by telling her
that in all likelihood her mother had not many hours to live; and before
she could return him any answer, informed her that they had both
determined to marry her to Charles, his friend's son; he added, the
ceremony was to be performed directly, that her mother might be
witness of it; for such a desire she had expressed with childish
eagerness.
Overwhelmed by this intelligence, Mary rolled her eyes about, then,
with a vacant stare, fixed them on her father's face; but they were no
longer a sense; they conveyed no ideas to the brain. As she drew near
the house, her wonted presence of mind returned: after this suspension
of thought, a thousand darted into her mind,--her dying mother,--her
friend's miserable situation,--and an extreme horror at taking--at being
forced to take, such a hasty step; but she did not feel the disgust, the
reluctance, which arises from a prior attachment.
She loved Ann better than any one in the world--to snatch her from the
very jaws of destruction--she would have encountered a lion. To have
this friend constantly with her; to make her mind easy with respect to
her family, would it not be superlative bliss?
Full of these thoughts she entered her mother's chamber, but they then
fled at the sight of a dying parent. She went to her, took her hand; it
feebly pressed her's. "My child," said the languid mother: the words
reached her heart; she had seldom heard them pronounced with accents
denoting affection; "My child, I have not always treated you with
kindness--God forgive me! do you?"--Mary's tears strayed in a
disregarded stream; on her bosom the big drops fell, but did not relieve
the fluttering tenant. "I forgive you!" said she, in a tone of
astonishment.
The clergyman came in to read the service for the sick, and afterwards

the marriage ceremony was performed. Mary stood like a statue of
Despair, and pronounced the awful vow without thinking of it; and then
ran to support her mother, who expired the same night in her arms.
Her husband set off for the continent the same day, with a tutor, to
finish his studies at one of the foreign universities.
Ann was sent for to console her, not on account of the departure of her
new relation, a boy she seldom took any notice of, but to reconcile her
to her fate; besides, it was necessary she should have a female
companion, and there was not any maiden aunt in the family, or cousin
of the same class.

CHAP. VI.
Mary was allowed to pay the rent which gave her so much uneasiness,
and she exerted every nerve to prevail on her father effectually to
succour the family; but the utmost she could obtain was a small sum
very inadequate to the purpose, to enable