The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1868-09-05

1
No doubt It would have been nothing yery
remarkable, had Helen Eyre, under sucl
circumstances, become what such excelIen
Judges esteemed her to be, irritable, unamia
bic, and prond. This treatment might av,
soured her disposition, ard armed her aesins
IN unjust and cruel world. Some struggle.
she may have had against such feelings. 70,
she was not without her frailties and inner
fections; her cheek may have flushed and
her heart beat with indignation, when in
suited by overweening civility or spitefu
sccrn. Though she felt pride TO be vice
90 vas meanness ana, orphan a she was
and illegitimate too, conscious innocence
and virtue, good viii to her fellow creatures
and piety to her Creator, gave her right.
and privileges which were entitled to res
lpect, and which, without blame, she might
yindicate, when slighted, insulted or abused
Therefore, though humble, she was no,
absssd, and . mild, pensye dignity over.
spread all her demeanor, which abashed the
mean, and won the commendation or al
whose sous possessed q single spark Of ma
tive nobility. Indeed, in her presence il was
no easy matter to maintain or put into prac.
tice those unchristian principles which, when
she was absent, burst forth in all their ab-
lject and slavish violence.
Her guardian, protector, and mother, Mrs.
Montgomery, was woman who did not pre-
tend TO be altogether free from these preiu-
dices or feelings which she knew were too
often carried TO q wicked and sinful degree.
But having had Helen put under her arms
when an infant, out of q yet warm bosom
Of her dead mother, she had then felt but as
a human being and Christian towards
helpless child. Affection kept pace with
Hslen's growth, beauty, virtues, and accom-
plishmeuts and not the slightest shade of
this feeling now overcast her love. It had
long been extinguished by the power Of in
nocence and joy and the knowledge Of the
strength Of such prejrdices in the minds Of
others, had now only the effect of increasing
her pride in her dear orphan, and Of adding
. hoher tenderness to her protecting love
''Shall she be despised whom every NOR ing
and every night see on her knees before
God; she whom that God has created so
good and so beautiful and who would die
tor the sake Of my old gray hairs ?" There
was no occasion 70 conceal one thought from
Helen Eyre-she knew her situation now
perfectly and wisely-she acknowledged that
her parents sins were misfortune to her
she was willing TO bear the burden Of their
errors-to suffer what must be suffered-ani
to enjoy meekly, humbly, aud gratefully,
what might be enjoyed. Were ali the world
70 desplse her-such was her gratitude and
affection to her mother, that Ia that alone
she could be satistied--to live for her-to
tend her declining sge-and, if surviving
her, to dedicate the hottest thoughts Of her
retired life to her memory.
But there was one whom Helen Eyre could
call her friend, one as young, as innocent, al
most rs beautiful as herself, and that was
Constance Beaumont. Constance was the
daughter Of an old. indeed q noble family,
and her mother, although justly proud OF her
rank in society, had not dlscountenanced
her childish frien lship With Helen, who
lived under the roof Of one Of her own most
respected friends. Still, this was a friend
ship which she had wished ia her heart
might inseusibly fade away a. her daughter
advanced in life tor although her nature.
was above all miserable scorn TO young
creature 50 wo.thy Of all love, vet she pro-
perly wished that the heart of her only
daughter should be among her own kin, and
not be drawn away from the bosom OF her
family. She had cheertuliy allowed Con-
stance to bring Helen to the Hlrst during
the vacations, and she could not but love the
sweet orphan. Sne saw that her daushte
Gould never learn anything bad or mean, or
vulgar, from such companion, but, on the
contrary, could not fail to have every virtue
expanded, and every accomplishment height
ened by communication with Que to whom
nature had been 80 lavi ID ia her endovments
Mrs. Beaumont had too much good feeling,
and too much good sense, to seek TO break
fri su r..
but 1t could scarcely be called blameable if
she wished and hoped in her heart, that its
passionate varmth might be abated. Sne
mad another reason for desiring this, which
she scarcely yet owned 10 her own heart
she had an only son, whose education ia
England was now completed, Ind who, she
feared, might love Helen Eyre. The thought
OF such an alliance was northumberland
Ars. Beaumont believed that, dearly as she
loved her son, she would rather see him 10
the grave, than married 70 an illigitlmste or
phan.
That such was the state Of this lady's
mind, Helen Eyre had too true . sense Of
her own coudition not TO know. OF her
thoughts respecting her son, indeed she, in
her Ihoughtless innocence could suspect
nothing, nor had she ever seen him but once
when be was . schooi-boy. But she knew
that Mrs. Beaumont was proud--though not
otfens,vely s0-of her own ancestry aud Of
her Jead husbands. Indeed, her stately
manners were slightly t.nged with pride
and Helen had never left the spacious and
rloh rooms of the Hirst, and its gallery of
old ancestral portraits. without feeling, not
OF depression arising from her own insigni-
canoe, bL. of the wide distance ut which she
stood IN rank from her best beloved friend
and sister, the amiaoie and graceful Con-
stance. Neither could she help feeling that
Constance must feel this too; and every
time sh. met or pared with her, there was
now faint sadness At Ler heart, and some.
thing seemed to i5rbode separauoa.
But Constance Beaumont was too high,
born 20 fear making frleni Of one on whose
birth there was q stain, even If she had not
been too high-mindcd to suffer such cause
10 interrupt their friendship. Strong ane
secure in her Own hIgn rank, and stronger
aud more secure IN her noble nature, a.
sooner did she discern the full extent oil the
general sentiment entertained towards Heler
Eyre on the score Of her birth, than every
warm, pure, disinterssted, aud passsonat.
emotion 0f her soul yesrned towards her ,anc
she vowed, thai as Helen had been the de-
Iighs and blessing of her childhood and early
y.'uIh, % sn0uil ber heart be bound TO nel
AL her hfe long, and own her ~ ell timei
and 10 oil places wIsh affection, grautuL'
and pride. Accordingly, she never was il
the town where Helen resided without visit
Ing her-she kePs up . constant and affec
Tomato correspondence with her-sne Insist
cd on seeing her frequently ut the Hurst
Iar. r.44 Ill nss.- 81 -
lovers, did tnese two besunful and happ,
young cressarss meet, almost by stealth, il
the woods and groves, and am0ng the genti
slipping hills, 70 snjoy : solitary hour u In
p4ssionsd friendshlp. Constance wodid no
nave disobeysd her mother in any positiv
i.janctioI q thsus sistssly assignsf,ons -
was conscious thst hss dnvsAsr would 10
4 hsvesapprovsd |; bat seft ~ pest and susel
lie u ~ iatursi fsslines % give way =
iasns considsrAtion e . doubsf0l duty
I Gould such dis0hs0isnco BE- called wrong