Margaret Hamilton : a novel

Chapter I

We have said that the fearful stroke which had deprived Mr. Hamilton of the power of working, and had taken from his family aU hope of independent support, was followed by a heavy lethargic rest. For the first few days, the task of watching and tending the invalid was one of com parative ease, for it was but a simple duty with no complication about it to weary the brain or test the power of thought. VOL. III. B As time went on, the keenness of anxiety decreased, for it was found that the mind of the afflicted parent, although depressed and subdued, had every chance of recover ing its healthy tone. But the use of the right side was entirely gone, and the chance of his living seemed to depend now upon the amount of attention and love he might be able to command. For all the purposes of the world's business he was now in capable.

As his senses gradually returned to him, he woke to a sense of the heavy responsibilities which he had been so ready to cast away; and he found himself forced for the remainder of his life to stand aside, and (as he might have done in a separate existence) witness the struggles of his wife and children, suffering from what he had in madness or in cowardice, been willing to leave them to encounter alone. It was a terrible destiny which seemed in prospect for him, and how could one who had shrunk from care, when he had the power to aUeviate it, bear it now. Splendid are the teachings of Divinity ! He, who, when health and strength were left him, rose in rebellion or sunk in despair, now bowed himself as a little child before the heavier blow, confessed its mercy, and returned to his allegiance.

When the first feelings of excitement had passed away, Margaret recovered both her composure and her energy. For the first few days she seldom left her father's bedside. Her affectionate care for him had very much to do with her constant watch over his returning faculties ; but there was also another cause which prevented her leaving him. No confidence had been exchanged between herself and her mother, as to the hasty words which had led to so much evil; not being able therefore to understand the repentance which had followed them, she had still a sensitive fear of b exposing her father to the violence of her mother's temper, for both their sakes. Mrs. Hamilton felt this watch to be, as indeed it was, in fact, a reproach to herself; but she was too much subdued to remonstrate. In common with many others, Mrs. Ha milton might have complained that though our faults are exposed to many eyes, our repentance, if it be sincere, is mostly secret and unseen.

But she was no philosopher, and therefore she contented herself with acting chiefly upon the impulse of the moment, in endeavouring to meet the evil which had befallen them as cheerfully as she could. It would be difficult to describe the mingled feelings of earthly desolation and heavenly peace, which visited the mind of Margaret, as she thus kept watch by her father's side. To hear his voice, gentle and calm, to listen to his almost chddlike hope of pardon for the past, to witness his perfect resignation, broken only by anxious fears for his family, and his perfect self-abnegation of every thought and feeling, poured balm indeed into her wounded spirit. Her prayers were answered, his mind was at peace, he rested now beneath the shadow of that great Rock, which, from all ages and to all time, stands as the shelter of the spirit ually needy.

Knowing this, she could bear to wrait calmly amidst the wreck of all earthly hope ; with no apathy or indifference, indeed, but with an almost cheerful energy which puzzled her mother greatly, but which could not have puzzled her had she known the deep workings of her constant love, the long and painful and almost mother's watch which she had sustained for so many months. " Margaret," said Mr. Hamflton one after noon. Margaret looked up from the book which was lying open before her, and which she had been trying to read, though it had cost half an hour to turn one page. "Margaret," he timidly repeated, "you must write to Mr. Travers." " Yes !" said Margaret faintly. How much or how little it occurred to her, did her father remember of her revelations concerning him ? Something, however, in the tender tone of his voice brought the warm blood rushing to her pale face.

" Write as if from me, my dear, thank him with such honest gratitude as I ought so much to feel, and you can so well express. Tell him, if you like, that all circumstances fit into their proper place, and dove-tail in their right order. So has his kindness come in its proper time. A few months back, and such an appointment as Lord S offers me, would have made me a discontented man for life, as it is, I suffer from a chastisement so severe, that I dare not be otherwise than thankful since my life is spared for repentance. Dear child ! I dare not repine now if I would, I would not if I dared. Will you write for me ? no one else can do it half so well." Margaret rose, and stooping to kiss him, heard him whisper, as if fatigued, that he would remain alone. She went down stairs to the drawing-room, for the hot weather made the little room down stairs oppressive, and took out her writing materials.

" What are you going to do ?" enquired Mrs. Hamilton, for she was there, as well as Olivia and Alice. " Papa wishes me to write to Mr. Travers," said Margaret bending over her desk. She had felt that it had been impossible, in her mother's fretful mood, to make her her confidant with regard to him, and now it seemed like a thing so far gone by, that it would but awaken vexatious discussions, for which she felt totally unequal, forced as she had been to preserve a certain tranquillity. of mind which alone enabled her to take the lead at this sorrowful time. " Ah, yes !" said Mrs. Hamilton, " only to think of it, almost drives one wdd. Well ! you must write. I thought of it two or three days ago ; but I did not like to propose it. You must tell him how thankful we aU are for his kindness, and what dreadful trouble we are all in ; and you know I have been thinking, Margaret, that if he is so anxious to serve your papa, as no doubt he is, or he would not have spoken to Lord S ; why — don't you think he might do something for Frederick?"

Mrs. Hamilton always gave Fred his whole name, when bringing forward any question of ways and means. " Oh, no !" said Margaret hurriedly, " impossible !" " I do not see why, except that you are so punctilious, child. You will let your brother starve, rather than stretch a point. He can not be kept at school, now, it is plain ; and what is the boy to do ? I am sure if you are so much afraid of him, I am not, so you had better let me write." " Papa particularly wished me to write," said Margaret apprehensively. " Well then, write properly ; tell him what a dreadful blow it is for us all, and that Mark also has nothing to do, except, indeed, that case of poor Jasper ; which, however glad we may be of it, cannot help him on much, you know ; and how we all lament having to take Frederick from under the care of such an excellent man as Mr. Smith ; and what is to become of the boy, I do not know."

" I will write," said Margaret, " if you like to the Bishop of , he who used to be so intimate with all of us, would be likely to do more than a stranger." Mrs. Hamilton was appeased by this b suggestion, and whfle she speculated with Alice as to the probability of the Bishop being able to do any thing, Margaret at tempted her letter. "My dear Sir." So far had she written, when a thousand recollections rushed upon, and almost overpowered her. Vividly came back, their first walk that Sunday afternoon at Hastings, when they had insensibly begun to understand each other, she could almost feel the balmy air of the country fields, and scent the pleasant fragrance of the thymy banks. How tender he had been of her, even then, how careful, ever since, what a strong arm and kindly heart would have been her stay now, if Aunt Ann had but left them to themselves.

Then she remembered her father's words, " all circumstances fit into their proper place," and stiUed the quick throbbing of her heart, and set herself again to write. But it was not to the Mr. Travers, from whom she had so unceremoniously parted upon the downs, that she wrote now. The balmy air, and thyme-scented fields were over all her thoughts, and she poured out her confidence and her sorrow as if he were her lover and her true friend, as he had been ; and oh ! Aunt Ann, as he was, even now, as in that moment of happy dreaming, she knew full well. It was but half-an-hour, stolen from sorrow and care and difficulty, but one half hour of girlish dreaming and womanly love, and then her dignity, not her love, reigned pre-eminent. She never meant to send the letter ; and now she tears it up, and writes again, simply touchingly, gratefully, but coldly still.

And then she folds the paper, and, with a dreamy consciousness, all the while, that in a few hours it will be in the hand she loves so well, she seals it, and it is ready for the post. Alice takes it, for somehow she is very fond of going to the post and executing little errands abroad ; but no one notices this now, not even Fred. Everything has bowed down and given way before the master-grief.

Chapter II

The happy mood of feeling which had visited Margaret, had in it very little of earth. Such a frame of mind is, perhaps, the peculiar blessing which rests upon the sincere Christian in the time of severe grief or bereavement. It has in it nothing which is either false or sickly, but it is marked by such a strength of enthu siastic faith as seems to bring to light unseen support, and to break down the barriers which separate us from the invisible world. It can not last, would that it might, for the human heart, while in this life, is not strong enough to sustain for any length of time, what is rather an inspiration than a part of humanity. It cannot last, but it leaves the spirit refreshed and strengthened for those active earthly duties, which, while life remains, we have no power of putting away from us.

It was in this frame of mind that Margaret brought her thoughts back to the exigencies of her present life, and addressed herself to them with all her native energy. She had spent the time in thought, which her mother had passed in gloomy foreboding ; and, having arrived at a conclusion, she only waited to mature her plan before she mentioned it. It was no time she justly thought for vain con sultations ; it was a time rather when action was a necessity. It was one evening, therefore, not much more than a week after the terrible stroke, which had laid Mr. Hamilton upon a bed of sickness, but time enough to have restored something like its accustomed order to the little household, that they all sat at work down-stall's. Mary had gone out, and there was, there fore, no danger to be apprehended from the near neighbourhood of the kitchen, if in the heat of discussion the voice of either one of the party were raised beyond the usual pitch.

Mark was there, sitting near the window to catch as much of the evening air as could steal through it. They were always glad to have him, but to-night he was too full of anxious thought to be at all like his genial self, and the veins of his forehead seemed painfully contracted, as if he were enduring some present bodily suffering. He was very silent, too, contrary to his usual habit ; still in trouble there seems strength in numbers, and in any mood they were glad to have him, Margaret most of all. " Well, Mark, and what is to become of us ?" said Mrs. Hamilton, breaking, at last, a silence which had perhaps purposely fallen upon them. " I have been thinking, dear mother," returned Mark, in his most affectionate manner, "and shall be glad to learn your opinion. Happily I have had more to do for this last week, than I have had for the last year, but that, of course, is uncertain.

You know what my income, from my fellowship is, that is yours ; let us make the best of it. If you are so inclined, we will go into the country and rusticate upon it. If possible, however, I should still like to continue my profession ; but that, of course, implies the necessity of chambers, and I will do as you like best." Mark's little speech was made with some effort. He was generous to the heart's core, but he loved his profession, and he was already tasting the first fruits of his careful study of it. "Oh, Mark! thank you," said Margaret, seeing that her mother was considering his offer, before she replied to it. " Your generosity ought to give us strength for anything, and," she said, turning with a smiling face to her sisters, "I, too, have a plan to propose, a much better one than that of Mark, which shall restore mamma to more comforts, and give papa what he requires.

And so, Mark, we will not rusticate on your fellowship, it is not half enough for us." She said this to rally him from his stern mood ; but the silent pressure with which she laid her hand on his, told him more than any words could have done, how much she appreciated his self-denial. " What is your plan ?" said Mark, his brow slightly clearing as he spoke, not that he really hoped anything from any effort of her's, but because it was a relief to find that any one thought of an independent course of action. " This is it," said Margaret, more seriously, " we will open a ladies' school in our old neighbourhood, I think I am certain of meet ing support there, and I feel that I am equal to the attempt. At all events, let us try it for one year. You know how much money has been spent upon me, and that I have received as good an education as riches could purchase.

All our former friends know this as well as I do. Alice and Olivia are quite fitted to take an able part in such an esta blishment, and mamma will take care of papa. It is, I know, a responsible office to under take, but I hope," she added, humbly, " that I should fulfil it conscientiously ; at least, we would try to do so." " You give up all chance of settling then for yourself or your sisters?" enquired Mrs. Hamilton. " I do not think so," said Margaret, steadily, "to marry into our old station is now extremely unlikely ; but an honest man, seeking a wife, wiU Hot think the less of us because we have done our duty. I speak of Alice and Olivia, for myself I should look upon this as a settlement." "But the outlay," said Mark, " would be more than we could possibly meet." " Aunt Ann will be ready to do a great deal for us," said Margaret, " and you, Mark, will just at first do something too; but mine is an independent scheme, and unless I get shipwrecked, I will accept no more than this ; your and her guarantee to those from whom I shall require credit for a house, furniture and provisions.

I assure you, I will not attempt this without a promise of a certain number of pupfls, and I believe that I shall get them. Ours must be a fashionable school, at the West End, and I do believe in as much good in human nature as this, that if our former friends had seen a way to help us, they would have done so. They could not, you know, offer us ' soveriegns,' as they might to the clnld in ' Bleak House.' Depend upon it, however, they shall now offer us hundreds of the brilliant coins." The plan as proposed seemed so per fectly feasible, that no one objected, and yet when Mark looked at his favourite sister, he sighed heavily. " You think with mamma, Mark," said Margaret gravely, " but consider the alter native. Papa could not be supported proper ly, nay, scarcely in the poorest manner, were your fellowship money dedicated solely to him, while, at the same time, we sacrifice your prospects, which are so dear to us all, and without greatly benefiting ourselves, ruin you.

Is it likely ! I am speaking not reli giously but in a worldly manner, is it likely that the world would think more of us, because we sacrificed the probability of doing so much good for the sake of a chimera ? "It is likely," said Mark, sadly, "for the world has its prejudices." " Then I renounce the world," said Mar garet. " And so do I in that sense," said Olivia. " Oh, Mark ! oh, mamma ! let us do what Margaret says ? I can teach Ger man, and Italian, and history, at least, about twice as much as Lydia and Julia Talbot learned in ten years at Miss Dol by's ; for, after all, they could not trans late a sentence without a dictionary, and they thought Cyrus inherited the kingdom of Babylon, instead of having conquered it." "That possibly arose from a natural inability to learn," said Fred, laughing, " I believe all education would be the same to them ; but I think," pursued he, " that Marga ret's is a capital scheme ; and I have one, too, Mark.

I like Latin and Greek very well, it is true, but they shall not stand in my way. If my sisters work, I will ; and I only want all of you to consent, and I will find a way for myself." " How ?" said Mark. " I will go into some mercantile house in the city, even if I begin as low as Whittington. Only say that you will not be ashamed of me." " Ashamed !" said Mark, " ashamed ! I shall glory in you !" "And not cut me if you see me with an apron on." Mark had his prejudices, and the vision of the apron staggered him. " My dear boy ! try what you can, but decide upon nothing until you have con sulted me." "I promise," said Fred. "But in the meanwhile, mother, you will give me liberty to do what I like." " Yes, my poor child ; we are all going to ruin, and it does not much signify how we go, or what we wear.

Oh ! to think that I should ever live to see the day when my children should be governesses, and stand behind counters with aprons on. It does not matter, do with me what you please." "You forget, my dear mother," said Mark, with unusual sternness, "that all these efforts are proposed for your's and my father's sake " " I know it — I know it ! But I wish yOu would put me under the ground first," sobbed Mrs. Hamilton. Burying alive not being admissible in England, and parricide being equally liable to objection, this request, moderate as it was, was received in negative silence. The pause thus produced in a conversation which had been hitherto rapid and energetic, gave time for consideration, and it was then that all became aware, that Alice was fidgetting, and flushing in a manner which was very unusual to her quiet and self-possessed manner.

Taking advantage of the silence, she said, with very little appearance of timidity, however, as she turned to her elder sister. "I am afraid, Margaret, that I shall not be able to aid your scheme, although it seems very cleverly designed." " Why not ?" said Margaret, gently. "Because I have other plans for myself, which, I believe, you will all agree in thinking to be wise. Mr. Smith has kindly asked me to be his wife; and, we have only waited for papa to be able to see him, to obtain, what 1 suppose, is but a nominal consent." "You, Alice? Mr. Smith?" was echoed by the astonished coterie. None knew exactly why, but the proposition was met with unusual repugnance from almost all of them. There seemed something unna tural in the union of so young a girl, possessing a full share of natural advan tages, with her well-formed figure, and by no means plain face, with Mr. Smith.

But, perhaps, there was something more yet dis pleasing to them in the ungirlish manner in which the statement was made. " Of course," continued Alice, seeing that a somewhat ominous silence had succeeded, "I told Mr. Smith that I had no fortune ; but he is considerate enough to see that, by marrying, he saves the expense of a lady housekeeper for the boys. If," she added, with a little assumption of patronage, " I could have foreseen Mar garet's proposed plan, and that I might have been of so much use to you, I might have reconsidered this ; but I preferred marrying to going out as a governess." "Oh, Alice !" cried Olivia, " do you love Mr. Smith ?" A look of something like contempt was the only reply. " You have not answered the question," said Mark, " and I wish you had. A romantic attachment could alone excuse so young a girl in acting so entirely upon her own authority."

"I referred to papa, Mark," said Alice, vol. in. o "as I said just now, and his illness has alone prevented Mr. Smith's speaking to him." " But this has not prevented your speaking to your mother, or to us." " Poverty," said Alice, bitterly, " has made us independent, and taught us to shift for ourselves ; besides, I can conceive no ob jection that any of you can make to Mr. Smith. Mamma understood his intentions, or I am greatly mistaken." " I had some suspicion of them, my dear, certainly," said Mrs. Hamilton, in an encouraging tone. "I do not see any particular objection to Mr. Smith himself," said Mark, after another pause, " but his situation now, as tutor to very young boys, as schoolmaster, in fact, must introduce you, if you marry him, to a life of drudgery, even before you have caught a glimpse of the world.

Times may mend with us, and you may live to repent your hasty choice ; for remember that marriage fixes your fate definitely. I do intreat you, leave it open until you can judge better for yourself than you possibly can now." " It is a subject which I have already well thought over," said Alice, " I cannot endure the life of privation which we have led for the last two years. It is quite beyond my power, and although Mr. Smith is too poor a man to do anything to help you, he does lessen the burden at home, by taking me off your hands, you must see that as well as I do." Alice was perversely refusing to believe that real affection for her alone actuated Mark. Perhaps, she was herself too quietly selfish not to suspect some covert motive in the actions of others. None perhaps are so really blind as the suspicious.

" If I could only think Alice, that you were doing this from sincere affection for c Mr. Smith," rejoined Mark, "I should be quite willing to forget the onerous position his wife must hold ; but he is full twice your age, and such an affection seems to me unlikely." " Mr. Smith does not require romantic affection," said Alice quietly, "he is not a man of this world, and takes a higher view of these things than ordinary people do." "Nonsense!" said Mark impatiently, "he is a man like other men ; but once more 1 make you a fair offer, I will work myself to death to procure you comforts if you need them, rather than any reason less than affection for this gentleman should lead you to marry. Say but those few words, ' I love him,' with honesty and candour, and I am contented ; but if I thought the pressure of present circumstances had led you to take this step, at your age, too, Alice, I think it would cling like a curse to me through life."

" What have you to do with it ?" said Alice, so quietly, that Mark's enthusiasm died out. " Have you not done all you could ? surely you have sacrificed enough to make you free of any course we may choose to take. I assure you I am only too anxious to remove part of the burden from you. I shall be very happy if you let me do as I like ; but, of course, I shall be vexed if you all take it so ill, and what for I really cannot tell. Margaret herself laid it down as an axiom just now, that there was no longer any hope of our marrying into our former station, and I consider that Mr. Smith is equal to any station we are likely to attain." " Of course, my dear," said Mrs. Hamilton. " I think, Mark, quite enough has been said ; for my part I think Mr. Smith a most worthy, sensible man, and Alice is fortunate in getting such a man to take care of her.

It is not as if she had the fortune she might have had, and could pick and choose. I am sure it is quite a relief to my mind to think that one of my poor girls will have a house of her own. I will undertake to break it to her papa, and if he consents, I hope no one else will find fault, though I own it might have been more suitable if it had been Mar garet instead of Alice." " You need not fear, mamma," said Alice, " I shall do my duty by Mr. Smith." "Well!" said Mark, "take a little time still, and if you have entangled yourself against your better feelings, confide in me and I will help you out, taking all the blame upon myself. Think how young you are, and how long a life may be before you, and do not let any false pride prevent your taking pity on yourself — " "And jilting Mr. Smith," said Alice concluding the sentence, "I have given him my solemn word, and I really do not see what temptation there is for me to break it."

" Margaret's plan opens the hope of an honourable competency," said Mark. " But who can secure us from a second bankruptcy ?" said Alice. " I am not am bitious, and when an honest way of escape presents itself, I cannot starve. We have all had enough of it. You think me very worldly and common-place, no doubt, but what I am doing is quite natural." What more could be said? The matter, it was clear, must be left to Mr. Ha milton's judgment ; and the family circum stances, perhaps, as they were at that moment, could not justify any further remonstrance. Mark's promises of support might end as other day dreams had done. Margaret's daring might, indeed, lead to a second bankruptcy, and then who should say that Alice had done wrong in securing herself a separate position ? She must be left to decide for herself, and yet it fell upon them as a painful conviction, that Alice's nature had really been corrupted, and not elevated by trial.

The young impulses of girlhood had merged with unnatural rapidity into the calculations of age. " Oh, poverty !" exclaimed Margaret, when that night she knelt in her room alone, "it is a weary thing, well might the wise man of old, pray against the temptations it brings. Poverty ! poverty ! I have felt its sting before — I feel it now."

Chapter III

Mrs. Daventry had become an almost daily visitor in Starborae Street, ever since her hurried return to town. Her brother's illness had saddened and subdued her very much, and yet her presence was a relief. Grief which breaks down reserve more surely than any other reconciler, had en abled Margaret to meet her with something very like her old candour and affection, and if any thing more had been needed, it would have been found in the almost c touching way in which she was ready to blame herslf. Very deeply did she now regret the loss of Mr. Travers, whose liberality and kindness would have been so accept able, as she imagined. She little thought that to Margaret this afforded the only sense of relief, which, in connection with him, she was capable of feeling, that she was spared the suspicion, which might have attached to her affection, if her rich suitor had found himself immediately surrounded by a sorrow stricken and ruined family.