Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1851-07-10
The Daughter Of Night:
A STORY OF THE PRESENT TIME
BY s. W. FULLOM.
CHAPTER XI.

social mischief as the inevitable conseonepce al
educating the poor. Her estimate Of the amount
OF information they should acquire extended be-
yond the Scriptures, which she imagined, though
adapted by an all-wise and al-ruling Providence
10 the meanest understanding, are themselves
more clearly comprehended by a mind enlighten-
ed Perhaps this impression was not natural to
one reared In the prejudices and exclusive no
nons OF an ancient house, tracing It's ancestry
through countless ages, and possessing as an in
allenable inheritance, the broad lands of half a
county To say truth, the Vavasours-for such
| was her maiden nanc-deemCd all below their
own sphere beings of an inferior creation They
had, II fact, thorn in their flesh. taint moral
leprosy, that cluns to them, father and son, and
daughter, through every generation-p.,rsuinr
them like a shadow, haunting and ruling them
like an evil genius. Their Inherent, hereditary.
beset'ing Characteristic was PRIDE
This quality, which had waxed with her
strength and grown with her growth, had. at
length, been combatted in Mrs Grantley's heart
by stronger feeiing-a feeling supreme IN vo
men, mastering and controlling every other. Af
ter brief but mighty struggle, it had Welded. in
| certain measure, to love. A beauty an heiress
Wooed by mobiles. admired and caressed by all.
the naughty daughter of the Vavasours descended
from her high estate, and contracted mesaHiaace
From the moment of her marriage. all inter-
course, all association with her family was
broken Oft. In their eyes she became los-dead
Her letters. her petitions for pardon, her tender
appeals to their pity, even her professions of re-
pentance-for she had, alas but too good cause
10 repent-were either received with contemptrl-
Gus silence, or returned unopened. The Vava-
sours were never known to forgive!
! How bitter, how poi gnant the reflection that
! she had made this sacrifice of home and kin
dred for all unworthy object that the idol she
had set up in her heart, shrined in her imagina-
! hon, blessed. worshipped, was mean and grow
el!ing domestic tyrant! And now came the
great tanner, Sorrow, who enters the lions den of
| orr hearts like keeper. regardless of the wild
fierce passions, the wofish sefhneSs. the savage
and Unsuitable malice, that spring up like beasts
| OF prey 20 meet him. Who can stand before his
rod? Who can resist his iron will?
| Years passed; and Mrs Grantlev. ahancned by
| those who should have soothed and protected her
| cut off from the world. subjected to daily and
| hourly huunatoas, the victim of an ill-starred
magriase-sef-doomed self-immolaed-
| severe and cruel lesson. But the cup was not
full, till, with bleeding heart, and agony not TO
! be assaged, she bent in despair over the bier of
her cherished, her only child. A few years
! more, and she was widow.
| Such was the discipline which subjected the
dominant element of Mrs Granley's character to
its minor but more sterling quality; and if, al
times, her natural naughty spirit did still appear
it was invariably curbcd by her acquired one
the spirit of kindness and sersibility. Her eyes
had opened 10 the fact that whatever mi CHIT be the
WI tliStellCeS oI fortune, all were endured
| with the same immortal essence sprung from the
| same clay, bound in the same bonds of flesh and
| blood. She became aware that the accident OF
| hereditary distinction. whether founded on an
Gent descent, or stately manors, or on high
sounding titles. was no sign OF superior merit,
| and, OF itself, hardly claim 10 respect-that the
himole, the poor, and the needy, so neglected and
so despised, were fellow-creatlres. and even fel-
! low-sutferers. In word she learnt her duty
| Mlhcents eager desire for knowledge. ready
| capacity, and rapid progress, undoubtedly
| strengthened Mrs tirantlev's convictions and as
| peculiar circumstances almost closed the gulf be-
| tween mistress and servant. she daily found new
pleasure, new enjoyment. in her labor of love. be-
| coming more and more interested in the object
! of it.
| 1t is wonderful what advances well governed
| intellect may achieve by exerton, in a space of
| time ed,bly short. Ever on the watch for in
| formation, devoaring books keeping her facul-
ties under strict control, and observing with ea-
ger vigilance the words and discourse of Mrs
Grantlev and her visitors, Millicent made aston
| ishing progress, every moment becoming more
/ polished. And did this deteTiorate her useful
! ness? Did it, as the Vulgar c!ap-trap does, make
her discontented with her station? Far from il !;
! for they who are taught to respect themselves
| know how to respect others. 1t is the ilterate.
| the ignorant, the depraved, who envy the fortune
! and position of their superiors.
Twelve months dew by. and, in that time, who
Granlev to the village with her bible and prayer
book, to extend their divine support to those who
| inirm alike in mind and body, would otherwise
have been devoid of consoiation--or carrying lit
| tie dainties to some perishing invalid; whether
attending her in pious and benevolent missions,
in the routine of her chamber, or in her favorite
flower garden, Milicent was equally biithe, at
tentive and contented, AT the side Of ner loved
mistress, indeed, she had nothing left TO wish for.
But now q cloud was TO come over the fool of
sunshine. 1t was not always that Mrs Grantiey
required assistance in her gentle ministry, and, on
such occasions. adhering TO the precept OF the
poet she preferred to fulfil it unattended. After
one Of these visitations she returned home indis-
| posed; bat it was not till the following morning
that necessity appeared for calling in the village
| doctor, when, TO the CONSERVATION OF the house
hold. it was discovered that she was suffering
from malignant fever.
The disease was infectious but, though warn
ed by the surgeon, ,M,llicen, dismissing all thought
for herself, insisted on her right to remain the
sole attendant of her mistress, declining every as
sistance.
From morning till night, from night till morn
ing, she fingered at the bedside with the tender
ness of fiiial love, rarely closing her eyes, and
even then, starting at the slightest sound No
hand bat hers could soothe the sufferers pillow
no eye so anxiously watch over her no other
voice answer inquiries. But all appeared to be
in vain. The memorable disorder, triumphng
the surgeons skill twincd more desperately round
its victim resistance grew more and more feeble
and the grim shadow of death, so long lowering
nigh, now, at length, seemed to darken the cham
ber.
"This must be the last night" said the doctor
to Mliicent after feeling the sufferers pulse
''Oh, sir, is there no hope?" asked Millicent,
falteringly.
II have done all that can be done by man. She
has severe struggle before her, and am afraid
her strength is spent"
Slowly and mournfully he spoke. as Judge
} might pronounce the awful and inevitable SEN
tence; and Mllicent, pale, trembling, speechless,
looked as though itwere her own. ltwas taking
, from her more than life-far, far more-all that
she valued in the wide. desoate world.
, Again she is keeping solitary watch. Mrs
Grantey, after violent and protraeted paroxysm,
, had become tranquil, and soft, low breathing
announced seep--so still, so hushed, it might al
most be taken for death. Millcent fixed star
tied gaze upon her. as if she feared that the SEM
, bance was more than imaginary; bnt soon she
saw that it was not so. The LAMP of light st,ll
burnt, though feebly, and gloomy as the prospect
was, she need not vet despair.
, The affections, Notwithstanding their great and
: mutiform energies, must, be circumstances wha,
they may, eventually yield to the wants and in
frmities Of the body; and despite her untirins
5 vigilance, Millicents eyes involuntarily closed.-
II was not sleep. but lethargv, leaving her con-