Rosamond, though she made divers attempts, could not
lead Caroline back again to the same train of thought,
or tone of expression. Indeed, Rosamond did not
attempt it very skilfully, but rather with the awkward
impatience of one not accustomed to use address.
Caroline, intent upon the means of assisting the poor
young woman whom they had seen at the cottage, went
there again as soon as she could, to warn old Dorothy,
in the first place, to be less communicative, and
not on any account to mention to any one else the
names and circumstances which she had told them with
so little reserve. Caroline next applied to Dr.
Leicester, the vicar of their former parish, a most
amiable and respectable clergyman, who had come from
his vicarage, near Percy-hall, to spend what time
he could spare from his duties with his favourite
parishioners; at Caroline’s request he willingly
went to see this unhappy young woman, and succeeded
in his endeavours to soothe and tranquillize her mind
by speaking to her words of peace. His mild piety
raised and comforted the trembling penitent; and while
all prospect of forgiveness from her parents, or of
happiness in this world, was at an end, he fixed her
thoughts on those better hopes and promises which religion
only can afford. Her health appeared suddenly
to mend when her mind was more at ease: but this
was only transient, and Dr. Percy, to whom Caroline
applied for his medical opinion, gave little hopes
of her recovery. All that could be done by medicine
and proper kindness to assuage her sufferings during
her decline was done in the best manner by Mrs. Percy
and her daughters, especially by Caroline: the
young woman, nevertheless, died in six weeks, and
was buried without Buckhurst Falconer’s making
any inquiry concerning her, probably without his knowing
of her death. A few days after she was no more,
a letter came to her from him, which was returned
unopened by Dorothy, who could just write well enough
to make these words intelligible in the cover:
“SIR,
“Kate Robinson is dead—this four
days—your child is with me still, and well.—She
bid me tell you, if ever you asked more concerning
her—she left you her forgiveness on her
death-bed, and hopes you will be happy, sir.—
“Your humble servant,
“DOROTHY WHITE.”
A bank note of ten pounds was received by Dorothy
soon afterwards for the use of the child, and deep
regret was expressed by the father for the death of
its mother. But, as Dorothy said, “that
came too late to be of any good to her.”
CHAPTER XIV.
Soon after the death of poor Kate, the attention of
the Percy family was taken up by a succession of different
visits; some from their old neighbours and really
affectionate friends, some from among the band of
reproaching condolers. The first we shall mention,
who partook of the nature of both these classes, was
Lady Jane Granville: she was a sincere and warm
friend, but a tormenting family adviser and director.
Copyrights
Tales and Novels — Volume 07 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
