Tales and Novels — Volume 07 eBook

“You are all I think you,” said Mrs. Hungerford; “and that you may hereafter be something yet nearer than a friend to me is the warmest wish of my heart—­But, no, I will not indulge myself in expressing that wish; Such wishes are never wise where we have no power, no right to act—­such wishes often counteract their own object—­anticipations are always imprudent.  But—­about my niece, Lady Mary Pembroke.  I particularly admire the discretion, still more than the kindness, with which you have acted with respect to her and Mr. Barclay—­you have left things to their natural course.  You have not by any imprudent zeal or generosity hazarded a word that could hurt the delicacy of either party.  You seem to have been fully aware that wherever the affections are concerned, the human mind is most tenacious of what one half of the philosophers in the world will not allow to exist, and the other half cannot define.  Influenced as we all are every moment in our preferences and aversions, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes avowedly, by the most trifling and often the silliest causes, yet the wisest of us start, and back, and think it incumbent on our pride in love affairs, to resist the slightest interference, or the best advice, from the best friends.  What! love upon compulsion!  No—­Jupiter is not more tenacious of his thunderbolt than Cupid is of his arrows.  Blind as he is, none may presume to direct the hand of that little urchin.”

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who brought the post-bag, with many letters for Mrs. Hungerford.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The arrival of the post was at this time an anxious moment to Mrs. Hungerford, as she had so many near relations and friends in the army and navy.  This day brought letters, with news that lighted up her countenance with dignified joy, one from Captain Hungerford, her second son, ten minutes after an action at sea with the French.

“Dear mother—­English victorious, of course; for particulars, see Gazette.  In the cockle shell I have, could do nothing worth mentioning, but am promised a ship soon, and hope for opportunity to show myself worthy to be your son.

“F.  HUNGERFORD.”

“I hope I am grateful to Providence for such children!” cried Mrs. Hungerford.

Mrs. Mortimer darted upon Captain Hungerford’s name in the Gazette—­“And I cannot refrain from mentioning to your lordships the gallant manner in which I was seconded by Captain Hungerford.”

“Happy mother that I am!  And more happiness still—­a letter also from my colonel!  Thanks of commanding officer—­gallant conduct abroad—­leave of absence for three weeks—­and will be here to-morrow!”

This news spread through the castle in a few minutes, and the whole house was in motion and in joy.

“What is the matter?” said Rosamond, who had been out of the room when the colonel’s letter was read.  “As I came down stairs, I met I can’t tell how many servants running different ways, with faces of delight.  I do believe Colonel Hungerford is come.”