The Motherless Daughters, Number III [pp. 612-622]

180]Te-ohresDuhes 1
and walked out together to admire the beautiful
scenery around the town. Their favorite resort
was the bank of the large stream which ran near,
at a point remote from the haunts of business-in
the summer covered with flowers, and at all seasons with beautiful evergreens. One warm evening in the month of May, they were standing in this
spot, enjoying the delightful breeze which came up
the river, and a more delightful conversation. Ever
and anon one made the other observe some peculiarly striking object in the landscape-some bright,
variegated cloud-the golden glow which the sun
gave to the water-or corning nearer, some of the
lovely flowers which crowned the bank at their
feet. On one of these occasions, Sylvia being in
pursuit of a wild-flower which took her fancy, approached too near the bank, which crumbled beneath
her, and suddenly precipitated her into very deep
water. She sank at once, but, as she rose, was
caught by Winston, who had instantly followed her.
Although he found it very easy to keep her above
water, yet it was a very difficult task to bring her
safely to land. The banks were precipitous, especially below, and the current very strong. He saw
at once, that if they went down the stream they
would inevitably be lost, and therefore determined
to attempt the hazardous exploit of swimmingo
against the current. Notwithstanding his great
strength and dexterity as a swimmer, he did not
succeed in reaching a place where they could land
until after an arduous struggle, and'several times
giving himself up as lost. Panting and exhausted,
he laid his precious and almost insensible burden
on the sand, and rested her head against his shoulder. As consciousness of her danger and of her
rescue returned, the tenderness which she had long
concealed in her heart, overflowed. She involuntarily leaned harder against him as he supported
her-and he, overcome by an irresistible impulse,
pressed her to his bosom, and imprinted an ardenL
kiss on her lips. The barriers of reserve were
completely broken down from that moment. As
soon as she recovered sufficiently, they proceeded
homeward; and as they went, poured out their
hearts to each other. When he handed her in at
Mr. Turner's, dripping with water, and told of her
escape, her aunt, grateful as she was for his generous exertions to save her niece, could not help
grieving that he had been her preserver. She
foresaw the probable consequence of such an event
i n hasten ing the d isclosure of their sentiments, and
dreaded being compelled to make the painful communication, which she should esteem necessary in
that case. Young Winston now visited Sylvia
constantly, and was generally understood to be a
happy lover. As soon as this rumnor came to the
ears of old Mr. Winston, who had been for some
time very uneasy on his son's account, he called
him into his study, and addressed him in the following manner:
" William, I think you have no reason to com plain of my harshness. I have never interfered
with your pleasures, wher e the y were not likely to
affect your permanent happin ess. I have always
granted you every innocen t ind ulge nce which I was
able to bestow. I do not boast of this, for it is
nothing more than my duty. I mention it now,
because I am impelled by an imper ati ve sen se of
d utyoo to you a nd to my sel f, to say what may grate
very harshly on your ear. Rumor tells me, that
heedless of my solemn warnings, you are the ac cepted lover of Miss Sylvia Howard. I wish that
young lady no harm; I hear and believe, that she
is amiable, intelligent. well-raised, and highly in formed. But there is a blot on her name and
family which oceans of virtue in herself cannot
wash out. My son, my only son must not ally him self to dishonor. In the sanguine period of youth
we believe that virtue alone should be considered
in forming connexions of this sort. But sad expe rience convinces us of our mistake. We find, that
the world attaches vast importance to matters which
we conceived to be of little moment. We find that
the finger of scorn is pointed at the descendants of
the base, although themselves clothed in a robe of
spotless innocence. This is emphatically true of
females; the slightest taint on female character
continues for generations. Are you willing that
your children should blush at the name of their
grandfather and grandmother? Are you willing to
take to your bosom one liable to be called the
daughter of a murderess! Reflect on these mat ters, my son, before it is irrecoverably too late.
Fly from the presence of this young lady, and endeavor to shake off this attachment, which to a
person of your sensitive feelings must inevitably
end in unhappiness."
This address moved William deeply. He knew
his father to be a man of the strictest honor, the
nicest sensibility, and the most excellent judgment.
He had always been treated by him with the most
affectionate tenderness and indulgence. Could he
go counter to his advice, so solemnly urged, and
supported by reasoning of such strength. Could
he, on the other hand, abandon the woman whom
he loved, whom he knew to be worthy of his love,
whose admirable qualities his father himself was
compelled to admit? The struggle between these
contending duties and feelings was violent, but
short-lived. Love, as usual, triumphed. He told
his father that he was deeply grieved at the idea of
distressing or oflbndingff him; but that his honor had
been irrevocably pledged to Sylvia, which placed
himn under an obligation too solemn to be violated
from any earthly consideration. But, although he
would not promise to break off the engagement, or
to fly from the beloved object, yet he agreed not to
hasten the mnarriagfe.
About the time at which this interview took
place between old Mr. Winston and his son, Mrs.
1840.]
The Ilotherless Dav,,-hters.
616