Volume 4 — CHAPTER XXVII. A CHANGE OF SCENE. THE SISTERS.

Adelaide was wondrously desolate on her return home. Her noble mansion, rcplete with elegance, what was it worth to her now? The famed Pantheon, for which a splendid gallery had been built, she never entered. The thought of it seemed to sicken her. Company wearied her, solitude distracted her. Miss Fairfield, the daughter of a decayed noble family, who acted as humble companion to her grace, was quite at a loss. What could be the matter with the lady? The poor humble lady companion did her best, her efforts were altogether unheeded. The duchess remained for the most part plunged in a profound reverie.

Adelaide was reviewing the past; comparing characters; examining principles. She had not loved the duke, but none the less his death had proved a loss to her. Rich as she was, powerful as she was, she was neither so rich nor so powerful as she had been while he lived. But there was a bitterer feeling far than this. It was, that she had never been an object of love to him, or to any one. She had coveted honor, power, wealth. She had these; but there were times when she would have given them all for the consciousness of having been loved as Ellen had been. She was jealous of the affections now laid in the grave, and would ask herself whether, had she been the one whom the duke had seen first, had they met ere his affections were engrossed, would he have loved her as he had loved the injured one? "I had youth, beauty, and intellect," thought she; "why should he not have loved me as he did that orphan girl?" {766} Strange that these thoughts should come upon her now; but only now had she compelled herself to acknowledge the great depth of feeling as well as the power of intellect which the duke had possessed.

Until she had read the mystery of the "Passion" in Avrillon, she had not understood the profound heavings of a contrite heart, which she had "mocked at" when he lay dying. Her eyes were beginning to open now; the world to wear a new aspect, although as yet a cloudy mist hovered over her higher visions; for she understood not the yearning of her own heart.

She was in this softened mood when she received a letter from her father. Six months had elapsed since her mother's death, and Mr. Godfrey complained that he could not yet rouse Hester to become anything like her usual self. He had taken her to Yorkshire, but she no longer cared to interest herself in "progression;" she had been disgusted at some scenes of immorality, and had voted that intellectual improvement without the observance of the moral law was a failure. "In fact," said Mr. Godfrey, "she is absorbed in discovering a 'new principle,' and more than once I have found her on her knees, bathed in tears. What can this mean? Has she also been tampered with? I am uneasy: I am coming next week to pay you a visit, and shall bring her with me. Help me to rouse her from her melancholy, and above all to banish fanaticism, if it is that disease which has taken hold of her."

Adelaide was not altogether reconciled to Hester, in spite of Eugene's explanation; but the moment that she realized from this letter that a restraint was likely to be put upon her sister's freedom of thought, the images of her mother and Annie rose before her, and she determined to use such influence as she could to prevent "persecution." "It is but a mistaken method after all," pondered she, "persecution can only tend to engender obstinacy, and rouse the pride of our natures. If Hester has any tendency to Catholicity, it can only be combated by reason, by showing its absurdity. My father will have to bring out his learned friends, and we will have the arguments of both sides plainly propounded. It will be an excitement, if nothing else. What was it that disgusted Hester with her 'march of intellect' scheme? She is not fickle-minded naturally; there is something fermenting in her mind which must be worked out. I am curious to see the termination; and if Hester makes a friend of me, she shall have freedom to think, and freedom too to act according to her conscience. There shall be no more persecution in the family."

Ah! Adelaide, you have learnt a lesson then from sorrow; it was not thus the proud young duchess reasoned when at the zenith of her power.

Adelaide received her visitor most kindly, and soon made Hester feel at home, though there was a sedateness, almost a melancholy, about her, quite foreign to her previous deportment. Mr. Godfrey fidgeted concerning her in a manner quite unusual with him, and seemed to make it his principal occupation to provide her with interest and amusement.

One morning, to the surprise of the sisters, as they were sitting together Mr. Godfrey entered, accompanied by the rector and his lady. Adelaide had certainly done the indispensable before, in receiving and returning a formal call with these parties, but nothing like intimacy had existed. Adelaide was so rarely at church, that the reverend doctor and lady did not feel encouraged to push themselves into her society. However, Mr. Godfrey now insinuated that his youngest daughter had taken a religious turn, and that he hoped from the doctor's reputation for learning that he would be able to give that turn a right direction, since unfortunately some developments in his family in religions matters had not been satisfactory.

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Dr. Lowell had looked somewhat askance on hearing this, as Mr. Godfrey's latitudinarian opinions and Eugene's Catholicity were both pretty well known, and had immediately enquired if Hester were a Catholic also. On receiving a decided negative he complied, though with some hesitation of manner. Controversy was not to the reverend gentleman's taste, and but that his wife offered to accompany him, and do her share of the talking, he would probably have backed out; but the lady possessing at once more earnestness of character and more confidence in her power of suasion than her husband, was anxious not to lose this opportunity of setting forth the value of Protestantism, and thus preserving Miss Hester Godfrey from following the pernicious examples set by Eugene and Lady Conway.

With these dispositions Dr. and Mrs. Lowell were ushered into the presence of the duchess and her sister, not altogether at ease at finding themselves in such aristocratic society. Adelaide received them with her usual quiet dignity, and turned the conversation to flowers, paintings, sculpture, literature, everything, in fact, save the topic which they came to discuss. At length, turning to Mr. Godfrey, she asked if he had introduced Dr. Lowell to the Pantheon.

"No, indeed," said Mr. Godfrey, laughing, "the doctor is more anxious about another subject just now; he is desirous of restoring his church, which has fallen out of repair."

"Indeed," said Adelaide, "then I must have the pleasure of assisting him," and she placed a well-filled purse before the doctor.

"Your grace is very good;" said the reverend gentleman. But Adelaide had risen to seek a volume of engravings on church architecture, which she placed in the lady's hand, telling her, as she presented it, that she presumed it would interest her, and might give her a hint or two to the style of embellishment suitable.

The doctor now took courage. "I am glad to see your grace so much interested in our church," he said. "I feared—" but here he stopped. Adelaide waited, perhaps a little maliciously, for the conclusion of the sentence. but it came not.

"May I ask what you fear, Dr. Lowell?" she said.

But as the answer did not seem quite ready, the lady of the reverend gentleman took up the word. "Your grace will pardon us," she said, "but as we have so seldom the pleasure of seeing you at church, the doctor feared that its reparation would not interest you so much as your kind acts now prove that it does."

Adelaide bowed, but replied simply by turning to an engraving. "I think it was in this style our church was originally built," she said; "do you propose to restore it in any way similar to the primitive idea?"

"I think not," said the doctor, "we only intend thoroughly to repair and cleanse it, unless, indeed, your grace desires your own pew altered."

"Oh! I will leave that matter to Miss Fairfield, she goes to church every Sunday, I believe, and I wish she should be made as comfortable as possible. If you will be kind enough to consult with her in this matter, I will agree to any arrangement she may make." And the duchess rang the bell; to request the attendance of the lady named.

"But," said the doctor, unwilling to lose the opportunity that seemed now to open, "I cannot believe that one so kind, so considerate, can be indifferent to matters of religion."

By this time Adelaide was amused, so she answered with a quiet smile: "It does not follow that one is indifferent to religion, because one does not consult the statute-book to find it. Great as is my reverence for English kings, queens, parliaments and prime-ministers, it is not to them I should go to learn religion."

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The rector stared; his wife was equally confounded. The latter spoke first. "It is to church we were inviting you grace, to hear the word of God."

"The word of the preacher you mean, expounding what is termed the word of God, according to act of Parliament, and varying according as Henry VIII., Edward VI., Elizabeth, James, William, Anne, or the Georges have dictated. You must excuse me, Dr. Lowell, I am a loyal subject, and as such duly uphold church and state, and you will ever find me willing to assist your wishes; but to take my religion by act of parliament home to my heart, to regulate my private motives, and unite my being to God, is quite another affair. Ah! in good time, here comes Miss Fairfield. My dear Lucy," continued the duchess, "Dr. Lowell wishes the advantage of your good taste in rearranging his church; I give you carte blanche to act in my name on the subject. I must also beg your kind offices in entertaining him and his lady this morning. They will like to visit the hot-houses, the conservatories, the gardens, perhaps, also the picture gallery and the hall of sculpture. Dr. Lowell, Mrs. Lowell, I hope at my return from my drive I shall still find you here; you will favor me with your company to dinner."

Adelaide swept from the room like a queen who had issued commands none dared to gainsay, carrying off Hester with her.

Mr. Godfrey accompanied the rector and his lady on their tour through the house, but neither he nor anyone of the parties made the slightest allusion to Adelaide's remarks respecting the state religion; nor was the subject ever broached by them in her presence again. The dinner passed off pleasantly enough, and in the evening the carriage of the duchess conveyed the married pair to their homes, they feeling themselves honored by the gracious reception which on the whole they had experienced.

Mr. Godfrey could not but perceive from this attempt that it would be useless for him to attempt giving any direction to a religious movement, should such be the subject that occupied his daughter's mind; though in truth she was habitually so silent now, it was difficult for him to discover what did interest her. Suddenly he took it into his head he would like to go to London, and he asked Adelaide if she would not open her town house, and, go too.

"Certainly, if you wish it, father. It might amuse Hester also, for as yet Hester has never gone through the campaign of a London season."

But on their arrival in town Hester did not seem in any way eager to launch forth into the great world of fashion; its frivolities disgusted her, some of the fashions shocked her, particularly the ball dresses of some of her young compeers. She could not reconcile her native modesty to do the like, and was soon voted a prude by the exclusives of bon ton. However, as she made no effort to shine, and had "no success" in attracting the attentions of the gentlemen, she was soon forgiven and most times overlooked.

But this latter fact she did not even perceive; she was living within herself for the most part just now, and looking for a principle when she took a glance outside. It was not perhaps at Mayfair, among the sons and daughters of dissipation, that she might expect to find it. The only thing that was remarkable about her was her propensity to take a walk before breakfast; this in London was unusual, and but that the duchess imperiously forbade her household to comment on the subject, and jealously contrived to conceal the matter from Mr. Godfrey, threatening dismissal to anyone who spoke to him about it, it would have been a never-ending topic of discussion. Hester was accompanied in these walks by her little maid, Norah, but Norah could never be brought to tell where they had been. "Sure 'twas sometimes this way and sometimes that, and how should she know the names of all those fine London streets?"

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Mr. Godfrey was not often up on her return, so did not perceive that she had been absent. One day, however, when Hester came in later than usual, Adelaide met her in the hall, took her bonnet and clock from her, and whispered that Mr. Godfrey was already in the breakfast-room.

Hester entered; but she found Mr. Godfrey so busy unfolding the newspaper that he did not perceive her entrance. She passed behind him ere he was aware, and impressed a kiss on his forehead; it was her usual morning's greeting.

"Ha! Hester, so you're up at last. I have a letter on your account."

"A letter for me?"

"No! yet one that you must answer; the great philosopher of the day is smitten with the charms of the fair vestal; he asked me ere we left Yorkshire if her heart was free."

"And what did you answer him?"

"That I did not know, but would enquire; this letter is a sort of reproachful remonstrance for not having fulfilled my promise."

Hester smiled, and Adelaide enquired who the gentleman was.

"A man," said Hester, "who thinks we have evolved into human beings from worms or bats or lower creatures still. By-the-by, father, he never told us why so many lower creatures remain unevolved."

"You piece of mischief, be serious; what answer shall I give him?"

"That I don't like his pedigree: I am looking higher than worms for my forefathers."

"But seriously, Hester—"

"But seriously, father, he says the character of the ancestry often reappears in the posterity, even after the lapse of many generations; and as he may have had, a tiger, a hyena, or even a boa-constrictor in his genealogical tree, I do not feel well inclined to trust myself to his keeping."

"Is that the new philosophy?" said Adelaide; "the vicious propensities of so many of the race are then accounted for, they are but beasts of prey in tailor's clothes."

"And yourselves, ladies?" said Mr. Godfrey.

"Oh!" said Adelaide, hastily, "please do not put us into the same category, Hester and I are well content with the old story. We are daughters of men and women, created in the good old style; reigning over the brutes by special privilege, and claiming no sort of kindred with them whatever."

"And Mr. Spence, Hester—"

"Mr. Spence, father, must seek a mate among his kindred, I am of another order of beings."

"Is that your final answer?"

"It is."

"You will revoke it, Hester; I will tell him to come and plead for himself."

"It will be useless; I shall tell him as I tell you, that I do not like his pedigree."

"Is that your only objection?"

"It is sufficient for a lady to give one objection, I think, especially when that one is insuperable."

Mr. Godfrey seemed disappointed, but he made no reply: the entrance of Miss Fairfield to pour out the coffee summoned the party to the breakfast table.

Mr. Godfrey took up the newspaper, and sipped his coffee in silence; it was his habit to read in company when annoyed. Suddenly, however, he laid the paper down. "De Villeneuve dead," he said, "my first, my earliest friend!" He rose and went to the window, but shortly afterward he left the room, evidently overpowered with the sudden news. Adelaide took up the paper. "It is the father, the old marquis, and his eldest son, drowned on Lake—in a sudden squall of wind. Why, Hester, our old acquaintance now succeeds to the property and title."

"Was not the elder brother married?"

"The paper says not; or at least it says he was a widower and childless, and that the estates now devolve on the second, the youngest son, the one who was in England last year."

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"Yes, and it says that he was about to start for England again when this event detained him, and that he is expected shortly; why, it is three months ago since the old marquis died."

"It's strange the news did not reach us before, but what business can our M. de Villeneuve have in England now?"

"There is some talk of his coming over to take the 'Poor Clares' back with him. He was Euphrasie's guardian, and I know he wished to get her and the community established in America. It was that wish that took him back, to see what arrangements could be effected."

"But will they go?"

"Nay, that I know nothing about; I suppose he talked with them on the matter ere he made his plans."

By this time the breakfast table was cleared, and the sisters were alone together, and Adelaide suddenly turned the conversation into another channel. "Hester," she said, "you must make me your friend; you know that you are pursuing a path of difficulty. You are my father's idol, have you thought what it will be to break his heart?"

"O Adelaide! forbear; I have thought of that, and the thought is nearly killing me, but I must on in spite of myself."

"It is true, then?"

"What is true?"

"That you go to mass every morning, and weep yourself to sleep every night, my poor, dear sister!"

"How did you discover this?"

"Your attendant showed your pillow to Lucy Fairfield, it was no longer fit to use; and Lucy followed you more than once, and saw you enter the Bavarian Ambassador's chapel in Warwick street."

"But she did not tell my father?"

"No, I have threatened with dismissal anyone who makes a remark on the subject; meantime tell me, are you a Catholic?"

"No! but I must see the end of this. Adelaide, out of Christianity there is no 'power;' and 'power' it is that we want to effect good. Science is taking the form of Atheism more and more. It represses rather than elevates. The masses are awakening to consciousness of possessing a right to intellectual culture under influences that will finally subject them even more to tyranny; for when man seeks only sensuous gratification by his science, he must eventually fall under the empire of the appetites, and then barbarism results. Is not this the history of all anterior civilization? Our modern rise has been the gradual growth of intellect evolved under the restraining influence of religion; and though men have very imperfectly submitted to these restraints, they have produced immense fruit among the masses. Even indirectly, the consciousness of the possession of soul, of immortal power, has elevated the ideal, and the laborer assumes a legitimate place in humanity. And woman, Adelaide, what is woman out of Christianity? What was she in Pagan Greece and Rome; what will she be, again if Christianity is abolished? I see but three phases for her. The Turkish harem, the Mormon polygamy, or that worse than either state, which consigns an immense number of our sex to debasement utter and desperate."

"There is too much truth in this. But, Hester, be cautious; I will not hinder you, rather will I help you, and study with you, but you are not yet a Catholic. I must then say again, be cautions: I dare not think on the result of my father's knowing your present study!"

"Indeed it has troubled me more than a little. O Adelaide! why should there be such a prejudice against any one form of religion?"

"I cannot answer that, still less can I tell why men of science should hate it so supremely; but it is so, and you know, dear Hester, that the shock of your conversion might occasion a terrible convulsion in my father. Let us proceed quietly, until the result is decided. Have you ever considered {771} what is the first step to take in the investigation of truth?"

"I am inclined to think the process must be a moral one, as well as an intellectual one. I heard a preacher say lately: 'Souls who would come to Christ, must first be gathered to the Baptist!'"

Adelaide hid her face in her hands, "There is a deep meaning in that," she said. "Hester, I too have my secret. Do you remember the Catholic priest whom I ordered to quit the house as soon as the duke was dead? His visage haunts me, he looked up from his prayers at my words, and his face seemed so full of pity, pity for me, that I half relented; but matters had gone too far. Well, I wrote to Eugene lately to inquire about him, and Eugene says he is at H—— on a mission, among the poor Irish laborers, and that young Henry, the duke's son, is with him. The mother too, the Ellen of the duke's romance, lives in the neighborhood. I have an intense desire to pay the place a visit; had you not come, I should have gone alone; now will you go with me?"

"Willingly; you are, then, in communication with Eugene?"

"Slightly; I dare not tell him all that is in my thoughts, lest I should raise false hopes. I have not faith, but I feel it would be a great gift."

"So great that it would be worth any sacrifice; but Catholics say it is a supernatural gift, and that it must come from God."

"And Eugene insists that the presence of sin blinds the soul; by obscuring the spiritual faculty, thus hindering the reception of faith."

"If so," said Hester, "we must do what we can to get clear of sin, even at the price of confession."

"It is therefor I intend to see the abbé, to make reparation. I will not voluntarily put an obstacle to the reception of God's gifts. If grace comes, it shall find me ready to receive it."

Hester looked at Adelaide in surprise. The haughty duchess had disappeared; another spirit so gentle looked from those eyes, that Hester could only throw herself into her sister's arms and weep.

TO BE CONTINUED

ORIGINAL.