"Hae ye officers quartered near, and is Mr. Grunter still living in the hoose? Hoping sune to be amang ye a', I remain, wi' best respects to Mr. Lindsay and Miss Tibby, and kind love to Mr. Grunter, Mr. Julian, and the French Count, ever, dear Ellen, "Your attached friend, "BABIE DOUGlas, "o' Douglas Glen." "Frivolous being !" thought Ellen. "Yet she means not that she wishes her sister's death. No, she is not wicked, but so weak, so childish, that I do believe she would chase a butterfly over her mother's grave, and deck herself with the flowers that grow upon its sod Poor Grizzy!" and Ellen's tears fell fast," for thy sake I will endure, nay, I will counsel, and, as far as I can, protect this strange, this antiquated, and most tormenting charge. Poor Grizzy! peace be with her! I will redeem my pledge, and do my duty by thee, so help me, Heaven!" ...... That very day poor Grizzy Douglas died— died calm, happy, and acutely watchful and sensible to the last. Babie was in paroxysms at first; in fits on the burial day; and then, by degrees, she grew calm, and bugles and crape, bombazeen, black feathers, and jet butterflies, with her approaching journey, filled all her thoughts. And Grizzy was left unmourned in her narrow bed; but the morning sun shone on the grave of the old spinster, who had so loved its earliest rays; and the green grass, and the daisies, and dear harebells deck the spot. It was the place of rest she had chosen in life. A yew-tree and a cypress overshadow it, but not so thickly that the moonbeams cannot sport over the headstone, and light up that name, pure as themselves. The summer birds sing among the trees, and hop over the sod; the sentinel owl wakes as to watch it at night, while the glowworm brings his tiny but sufficing lamp; and robin-redbreast, as if grateful to the friend of his race, (for Grizzy had ever a ready crumb for poor robin) robin plumes his scarlet breast there on cold winter days, and glances with his bright brown eye, and scares away the insect tribe. And it is a pretty and a pleasant spot; and there Grizzy Douglas now sleeps well-and, oh, may peace be with her!...... CHAPTER LXVII. "A young lady decorously brought up, should only have two considerations in her choice of a husband. First, is his birth honourable? secondly, will his death be advantageous? All other trifling details should be left to parental anxiety." The Lady of Lyons. Augusta, followed, courted, and admired, was yet far from happy. Life had now for her no unattained object; either to be derived from her own mind, or from that of others. She had never known Ellen's exquisite delight in giving pleasure, in conferring comfort, or administering consolation. She had some affections, but all her sources of happiness were selfish, in the lowest sense of the word. She had no delicate and secret springs of enjoyment; she had made a good match; the mean ambition of a life was attained. Pomp, luxury, adulation, and respect surrounded her ; she had nothing to desire, and she soon found that to have nothing to desire, is to have nothing to enjoy. Her husband was kind, fond, proud of her ; but he was more plebeian, more rosy, more pursy, than ever. She had become accustomed to his fortune; she had not become accustomed to himself. Whether he was disappointed in her affection, or whether he had some secret source of annoyance, we may not divine, but he grew silent and thoughtful, as Augusta grew sulky and ungrateful; and on the whole, neither looked the happier for their union. Then, too, Augusta's not all evil heart was peopled by regrets, self-reproaches, and sometimes in the silent night by Remorse; and against Remorse and her fell brood what power have jewels, and feathers, and cashmeres? Alas! the soft couch, the sleep - provoking chariot, seem but thorny. The lonely luxuries |