:^ t^ L I B R.ARY OF THE UNIVERSITY or ILLINOIS SZ3 Or EH Ac vi. \ c^y Mi. CASUAILTIES. A NOVEL. 7^- TWO VOLUMES. By MARY GOLDSMITH, AVTHOR OF THE COMEDY E.VTITLED SHE LIVES ! OR, THE GENEROUS BROTHER.. " No Subterraneous Caverns—Haunted Castles— Enchanted Forests «' —Fearful Visions— Mysterious Voices— Supernatural Agents— <♦ Bloody Daggers—Dead Men's Skulls— Mangled Bodies— .Var *• Marvellous Lights, form any Part of the present Work; but " wVA be found, on Perusal, to arise out of Natural Incidents.'* VOL. I. t lontion : Printed by Roden and Lewis, Paternoster-row; VOR T. hughes/ STATIONERS-COURT, LUDGATE-STREKT ; AND SOLD BY JORDAN UOOKHAM, NEW JJOND-STREET^ HARDING, PALL-MALL; LLOYD, HARLEY-STREET^ CAVENDISH-SQUARE; AND J. RIDGEWAY, YORK-STREET, ST. JAMESES. 1804. ^^3 I/' I TO THE HONORABLE MRS. A. M. M'GERTON. S MADAMj IT) I YOUR kind condescension in permitting me to dedicate to you the "^following trifle, while it gratifies my fj:^ vanity, shews how a truly liberal mind *^ can confer favors. To delineate the wanderings of ima- gination, arising out of natural inci- ^ dents, clothed in language and senti- ments calculated to touch and amend t^ the heart, has been the principal aim of •5^ the author : with what ability the task i-^- is executed, is not for her to judge; but A3 4 IV DEDICATION. should the feeble efforts of her pen af- ford you an hour's amusement, or in any respect contribute to the instruc- tion and entertainment of her juvenilp readers, the object proposed in the fol- lowing sheets will be fully accom- plished: the chief pride of whose author it will be to boast how itiuch she is, with the truest sense of gratitude, for the honor of your generous patronage, MADAM, Your most faithful, ; And truly devoted Servant, MARY GOLDSMITH. PREFACE. I HAVE somewhere met with an observation on writing in general, which, for its propriety, must have obtained the unequivocal suffrage of the world : — And in the Petit Morceau Uteralre^ which I now present to he public, it has been my endeavour to reduce the judicious precept into prac- tice; trusting, that the errors^ therein will meet with that lenity from the critical reader, as from a liberal mind, especially when he admits the truth of A 4 Till PREFACE. the following lines from the pen of the celebrated poet, Butler. " To love the power to forgive^ " Is empire and prerogative; *' And 'tis in crowns a nobler gem, *' To grant a pardon, than condemn.'' The writer I have above alluded to^ said (if it lives correctly in my memory} that ** the principal and most essential art in writing well is, not to attend so much to the manner of expressiog our- selves, as to the thoughts; and with respect to the thoughts, to seek not sa much for those that are forced and bril- liant, as for those that are simple and natural ; for reason is less satisfied with forced and extravagant ones, than with those which immediately to the PREFACE. IX object they refer to. Such as are merely shining and far-fetched, please us tran- siently only, and are incapable of fixing the attention: whereas, the simple and the natural ones give us permanent delight, and the more we study them, the more charming and beautiful they appear." But there are other duties and quali- fications necessary to every candidate for literary fame, particularly to those who would, through the medium of ei- ther truth or fiction, attempt to improve the manners of society. The morahst is a more valuable character than either the most profound scholar, or transcen- dant genius; for if the latter are not subject to the principles of the former, their publications are a pestilence to X PKEFACE. mankind, in proportion to the magni- tude of their powers, and the multipli- city of their works. Amongst the many fashionable quali- fications mankind, in general, seems emulous to attain, none affords a more truly pitiable reflection than the seduc- tion of young women ; and none, if we trace their pursuits with a specula- tive eye, is prosecuted with more brutal energy. It has been frequently remarked, and particularly in a menial life, where beauty and even innocence have shed their unsullied sweets, that few have been able to consummate the nuptial tie ^^'ith a reputation untainted by cen- sure. Nay, how often do we meet with it in the most exalted, the most el©- PREFACE. XI vated ranks. And how shocking is it to see a young female quahfied both in sense, person, and every accomplish- ment to render the marriage state a state of true fehcity, fall from the very summit of reputation and respect ; a victim to the vile and base machina- tions of an artful paramour? The moun- tain wolves have their objects of prey separate from their own species ; but man, having less humanity than inhu- man beings, preys on the most endear- ing part of himself. Beauty, united with engaging man- ners, carries with it irresistible attrac- tions ; all are wishing to partake, each jealous of the prize: envy fills the breast of the one sex, while animation fires that of the other. Exposed thus Xil PREFACE. to unlimited dangers, what power must assist in the regulation of their conduct, since on the one hand you are perse- cuted by the basest insinuations which rivalship never fails to inspire, whilst on the other you are attacked by the most specious artifices, flattering pro- mises ; and O, unhappy thought, the perjury of plighted love. / Mankind in general are of so frail a cast, so addicted to change, so biassed by vicissitudes, and their objects of pur- suits so transitory and uncertain, that the greatest of blessings, when once enjoyed, become matters of mere neu- tral concern. The most violent of pas- sions relax when sated ; and the desire sickens as the appetite cloys. O ye that tread the paths of chastity, that PREFACE. XIU retain pure and inviolate the sweets of innocence ! Let not the wiles, the art- ful intrigues of man, rob you of that inestimable gem, which alone blesses the connubial bed ; for if the will^ how- ever fair and love- directed it appears, be once obtained, jealousies creep in, and the object of the tenderest, the most endearing affection, in a little time, becomes the object of caution and distrust. Love is like a deep unfa- thomable sea, on whose transparent glossy face the pliant oar skims till swelling tides call forth from their im- perious beds the mighty waves, that baffling with unexpected shocks the pilot's skill, and plunge you eternally in the billow's waste, where no plank to grasp, no sea-mark to direct your XIV ^ PREFACE. spreading arms, no eye to drop one tear of tender pity, speaks comfort to the expiring soul. There are two principles which man- kind have generally adopted in their systems -f p::nal jurisprudence, in es- timating d:e punishment due to an of* fender, the enormity of the vice as ap- plying to the agent, and the conse- quence of his actions to the commu- nity. Were the crime of seduction to be judged, only judged by the latter, its punishment would be most exem- plary ; for of its baneful effects on the virtues of private life, (and which in- deed are the foundation of public) every one is advised. The offspring of an impure amour are too often secluded from the benefits of paternal protec- PREFACE, XV tion ; and also In their helpless and in- fantine years are deprived of that ma- ternal kindness so necessary to health, by which they are subjected to every fortuitous vice ^nd debility of constitu- tion, and neither add to the physical strength of the country by their popu- lation, nor to the ao^o-reo-ate of oui na- tional virtues. There are two objects which the law of any country should comprehend. ' Rule of conduct of its subjects, and their general and recipro- cal protection ; and wherever they are inefficient to such purposes, it necessa- rily argues, that they are not equal to the ends of sound policy and impartial justice. Wherever a subject may be deprived of his personal liberty by the machinations of villainy, at lea^t for XVI PREFACE. any length of time, the presumption is too well founded that the laws are defective in their form and operation. The latter observation having an im- mediate reference both to the moral and narrative contained in the follow- ing sheets, I have submitted them as a justification of both. To' these sentiments I have endea- voured to submit myself during its pro- gress ; and, should it cheer the hours of a rainy day, or add a legible line of instruction ; should it in the smallest degree excite an emulation of virtue, and an abhorrence of vice, 1 trust the gentle reader will be amply rewarded in the perusal, and myself in the under*" taking. The author. CASUALTIES a Bom. In the dreary month of November, when drooping nature was stripped of all her luxuriant beauties, Captain Aubery set out from London for his father's seat in the west of England. At the dis- tance of about forty miles it occurred to him that a fellow collegian, whom he had not seen for a considerable time, owned an estate contiguous to the vil- lage where he stopped to change horses; and, as the evei.ing was far advanced^ B 5 CASUALTIES. and extremely dark, he resolved to pro- ceed no further, but took up his abode for that night at the inn, purposing to pay a visit to his friend the following morning. The host condudled him to a neat little parlour with a good fire, where he had not been long seated, when his host re-entered, leading a young lady, apparently indisposed ; he apologized for the intrusion, by saying he had not afire kindled in any other room, and that the lady was only going to stop whilst fresh horses were preparing. Captain Aubery replied, that an apo- logy was unnecessary under such cir- cumstances, and drawing a chair to- wards the fire, begged she would be seated. Her youth and beauty naturally excited curiosity in the breast of Au- CASUALTIES. 3' bery, particularly as he perceived, by the changes of her countenance, that she laboured under a mental eaibar- rassment. She strove to conceal her agitation, but it did not escape his pe- netrating eye. " Pardon me. Madam," said he, " I hope you are not travelling any great distance, at this late hour, unprotected." " I am going to London, Sir," replied the lady, in a tremulous voice, " and my companions are with- out." At that moment a voice vocife- rated, " Where's the lady, we're not going to shilly shally here all night?" With increased agitation she arose from her seat, and was proceeding towards the door, when Captain Aubcry took her trembling hand, and begged she would permit him to attend her to the carriage. He led her forward, when, B 2 4r CASUALTIES. with infinite concern, he beheld in her companions every thing united to shock and terrify feminine sensibility,^ — two fellows, whose appearance bespoke them destitute of every sentiment connected with humanity. As ascending the steps of the chaise, a tear from the lady's eye fell upon the hand of Aubery ;- — What can this mean, said he, mentally, • some mystery envelops the fate of this lovely girl ! I will follow them.-— The chaise drove off. — He ordered a horse to be instantly saddled, and taking with him a brace of pistols, he immediately followed the travellers, but continued at some little distance, in order to watch their motions unobserved. They had proceeded thus a few miles, when sud- denly the chaise stopped ; one of the ruffians jumped out, and a cry of dis- CASUALTIES. ,5 tress issued from the carriage. Cap- tain Aubery rode up, sprang from his horse, opened the door, and presenting a'pistol to the villain's head, dragged him from the chaise ; the unhappy girl had sunk in the bottom of it in a swoon. He gave his horse to the care of the driver, and, after observing that' the ruffians had made a precipitate retreat, he flew to her assistance, and raising; her up, assured her she was safe ; but she continued in a state of insensibility during their return to the inn, where he had ordered the post-boy to drive with all possible speed. His first in- quiry \vas for the landlady, to whose care he committed his fair charge : She was conveyed to a chamber, and by the particular desire of her gallant champion treated with the utmost care and at- B 3 iS CASUALTIES. ^ tention. The shock her spirits had un- dergone from the brutality of her perfi- dious companions, rendered her insen- sible to every obje61: around her, and in the morning her intellectual faculties were lost in a melancholy delirium. The landlady vyas the mother of a fa- mily, and she expressed with a mater- nal concern the unhappy situation of this lovely unprotected female. She hastened to Captain Aubery ; " What is to be done, Sii," said she, " this unfor- tunate young lady is incapable of giving any account of herself? She is quite deranged. '' Let every thing be done. Madam," answered Aubery, " that iiumanity dictates in behalf of suffering innocence ; let the best medical assist- ance be procured, that this part of the -country affords ; I will guarantee every CASUALTIES. 7 cxpence, and in the mean time I shall endeavour to penetrate the source of this most extraordinary affiiir. It is pro- bable that letters or papers about the lady's person'may be found, which will lead to some elucidation ; and, under «uch peculiar circumstances, the search cannot be considered a breach of pro- priety. The hostess took the hint, and upon examining her nockets found a letter, addressed to Miss Sabina Melfofd, at Mrs. Drummoiid's, Great Portlands- street, London. She immediately car^ ried it to Captain Aubery, who read as follows : n i •, CASUALTIES* Ealand^ Yorkshire^ DEAR SISTER, Novr\%, 1753. We are all at this moment in the utmost distress; our dear mother is lan- -guishing under a malignant fever. Do not delay setting ofF on receipt of this. The coach, you know, sets out from the Swan in Lad-lane. I remain your af- fectionate brother, Henry Melford. ^ It is evident," said Captain Au- Jbary, " that this lovely young woman Jias been torn by violence from her friends, at the very moment she Was about to fulfil the injunction contained in her brother's letter; for I perceive it was dated only four days ago. I will instantly write to this Mrs. Drummond ; she is, no doubt, a friend or relative, CASUALTIES. ^ & who, probably at this moment, Is la- menting the mysterious fate of the un- happy girl. Captain Aubery, after having dis- patched a letter to the post, proceeded to the next town> where concluding they had changed horses,judged he might procure some information relating to this singular incident ; and where we shall for a short time leave him,, and return to our heroine. Mr. Melford, the father of Sabina^ was the ilkgitimate son of a gentle- man in the north of England, who af- ter dissipacting a very affluent fortune, at an early age, betook himself to a fo- reign climate. The wreck of his pro- perty was a small estate in Yorkshire,^ which previous to his departure, he set- tled on his infant son, appointing Mr, B 5 10 CASUALTIES. 'Edwards, a gentleman of independent fortune and irreproachable character^ his trustee, to whose management and discretion he confided the education of his boy; but, for reasons best known to himself, and v/hich will hereafter ap* pear, he requested that the child should bear the name of his mother^ During Mr. Melford's minority, the worthy guardian acquitted himself to-- wards the youth with parental tender- ness, and perceived, with infinite plea- sure and satisfaction, in his ^w^ard the dawnings of a noble, generous, and vir- tuous mind. At the age of twenty-one: he took possession of his paternal estate,, and shortly after that period united his fate with that of an amiable young wo- Bian, who, in the space of ten years^ made him the happy father of a son and CASUALTIES. 11 five daughten : But human felicity, ever precarious, Providence had ordained should not reign long unmolested ! The vinerring shafts of death dissolved the fond union, and Mrs. Melford was left a disconsolate widow, with six children, to mourn her irreparable loss. Sabina was the eldeft;. at the age of four- teen, having eompleated her educa- tion, she was placed under the protec- tion of Mrs, Drummond, a mantua- maker of eminence in her profession, for a term of three, years. The heart ©f Mrs. Melford, fraught, with tender solicitude for the welfare of her beloved offspring, figured to her imagination, that .by furnishing the eldest with a genteel trade, it might, in the space of a few years, become an establishment for the younger branches of her family* B 6 12 , OASUALTIES^i The uhconscious parent perceived not the perilous situation in which she was placing her lovel j daughter .5.. for be it known to our readers, that theiuii- tommon beauty, and perfect, symmetry, 0{ Sabina Melford, even at the early age of fourteen, was throughout the country a general theme of admiration; The nQoral and virtuous principles which from precedent she had imbibed,at anearly period, united to an innate modesty, Mrs; Melford flattered herself were sufficient barriers to shield her from the paths of danger,. But her conspicuous .charms cotild not long be concealed from the ob^ serving eye of profligacy ;: various plans were concerted by the abandoned art i>f hfei* own sex to allure and tempt her frdm the path of honor, but with a vhluw ous scorn she spurned the glittering bait ;, CASUALTIES. 15 thus far she realized a fond parent's hope, strictly adhering to those religi- ous principles which had so carefully been inculcated mto her inf^uit mind. - But now the moment, big with events, was at hand, adverse fate threatening to overwhelm our beautious heroine; The term of her apprenticeship was within a few months of closing, when she received from her brother the let* ter already stated. Prompted by ten* der concern, she flew on the wings of filial affection to the Swan in Lad- lane, unmindful of any thing in the •Street until she arrived at the coach office in the inn. yard. Whilst she was securing a place for that evening in the stage, she observed an elderly womaa standing by her, whom she recollected to have frequently seen before^ and who |4 CASUALTIE^.- had often made an effort to become ae- qviainted with her in the street. — Her bii^id,, however, at this moment, wa« so wholly occupied with the melancholy information she had received, that with- out bestowing a thought on this wo- man, she hastened home in order worthy friend Mrs. Drummond. Eli- za, after ray decease, is to accompany my sister, and to continue under her protection. My three younger girls, I could wish should be kept at school, until Sabina has attained a proper age to engage in business, and when esta- blished, to be placed with her, Tc your affectionate regard I bequeath my son; he emulates his^ father's virtues r and, with such a monitor as you, sir, he can never err. Having now ar- ranged my worldly concerns, I fain would see my children once again ; the^ hour of dissolution is drawing near; farewel, my best friend, farewel/* Mr. Edwards, unable to reply, arose^ from his seat; the tear of sympathy and: regret rolled down his venerable cheek,, as, with hasty step, he paced the 44 CASUALTIES. chamber, for some minutes: then turn- ing to take a long and last adieu of the patient saint, perceiving she had fallen into a sweet slumber, he quitted the room. The family now re-entered the apartment; Mrs. Melford still slept; whilst the weeping eyes of her affec- tionate offspring were watching each successive breath she drew ; till at length she awoke, gazed upon her children, fetched a deep groan, and sunk into a calm and eternal repose. Here, reader, we shall drop the cur- tain. Mortality, familiarized to deaths can easily participate in the melanchaly scene. It is a debt we must all pay. The ruthless monster is no respecter of persons, shews no compunction ; not even in the chamber of the beauti- Qus bride^ the enraptured bridegroom^ CASUALTIES. 45 whose torch is kindled at the purest flame; but stalks forth, regardless of the fond union, and all their promised sweets are changed to bitterness. The tender parent too. — How oft, whilst gazing on the rosy smiling cherub, darling of all their joys, the grim ty- rant, with unerring hand, levels his dart, and strikes at the blossom of their rising hopes. Thus the portrait of tem- poral felicity is displayed, and clearly informs all human nature, that earth- ly bliss is ultimately but a visionary charm. But to return. — The three elder children had reached an age capable of feeling the magnitude of their loss, for which they were al- most inconsolable. Excessive grief ap- peared indeed to pervade every bosom; but time, which conquers all affliction. ^6 CASUALTIES. abated, by degrees, the keen pangs of sorrow. In about a fortnight after the funeral of Mrs. Melford, Mrs. Delrynfi- ple informed Mr. Edwards, that under her protection Sabina should be re- conducted to London; aad preparations were accordingly made for their depar- ture. The allotted period of her ap- prenticeship was unexpired, and to fiJflfil it she felt was her duty; she therefore assumed a reconciliation to the task, which her timid heart se- cretly denied. Retrospection of past sufferings excited terrors in her. mind, and. she briefly unburthened her heart :to her amiable friend, Mrs. Delrymple; who, by pathetic reasoning, strove to •remove the prejudice she had imbibed, and to meliorate the corroding pangs which rankled in her bosom. " You CASUALTIES. 47 must not indeed, nny dear/' faid Mrs, Delrymple, " cherish so troublesome an inmate as reflection; though 1 am sensible, that where virtue is the go- verning principle of the heart, it natu- rally revolts, even at the shadow of vice: yet, Sabina, remember, and I am persuaded you will admire the wis- dom of providence : have you not been plucked from the brink of an awful precipice ? such a miraculous event ought to be deeply impressed on your mind, and inform you, that under the most trying vicissitudes, you have been the peculiar care of omnipotence : are you not returning to a situation, chosen for you by a fond indulgent mother? who, even in the pangs of death, evinced a peaceful serenity in the con- solalary idea, that you were under the 48 CASUALTiEI^. protection of a beloved friend, in whose affectionate bosom you would find a secondary parent. Come, come, Miss Melford, dry up those tears ; immoderate grief will disqualify you for the impor- tant station to which you are called by the ties of nature ; though each drop you shed, Is a tribute due to the memory of departed friends. You, my Sabina, are the eldest of an orphan family, and must look forward to that period, when your junior sisters are to consider you as their monitor and guide : the sacred trust will be assigned to you. A few years experience will qualify you for a regular establishment ; and under the influence of those virtues yon inherit from your worthy parents, success will accompany your pursuits through life ; therefore I entreat you, Sabina, to CASUALTIES. 49 chase from your remembrance, all mis- fortunes past. " I shall, madam," rejoined Sabina, weenino; on the bosom of her friend: " pardon this weakness," she conti- nued; " the irreparable loss I have sus- tained, united to the corroding pangs of fraternal love; and my trembling fears, at again visiting the metropolis, altogether, hangs about my heart. The thought of parting from my dear sisters^ of quitting, perhaps for ever, this be- loved mansion, to which I am bound by all the fond ties of duty and affec- tion, although bereft of my parental blessing." Here the powers of articulation failed; the afflicted girl, with tears of filial sorrow, wrung the hand of her VOL. I. D 50 CASUALTIES. friend, and retired to her sleepless couch. The following day Mrs. Delrymple proposed commencing her journey, when our heroine was destined to part from all she held most dear; yet it was some alleviation of her grief, tiiat her amiable friend evinced an increase of sympathy for her sufferings; this it was, which in some degree recon- ciled Sabina to her fate, of leaving the peaceful shades of her nativity, again to embark on that perilous ocean where, so late, her hopes of happiness had nearly foundered. Now the moment was at hand, in which this orphan family were, for a time, to separate. The senior party, who witnessed their pathetic struggles, CASUALTIES. 51 could not restrain the tear of sympathy, Mr. Edwards, who was far advanced in years, sobbed aloud, whilst the big drop glistened in his eye, and spake more eloquently the language of the heart, than volumes could pourtray. " Madam," said he, addressing himself to Mrs. Delrymple, '' the generous part you have taken in our distresses, entails upon me a debt of gratitude I never can discharge ; accept, however, my best thanks and sincere wishes for a continuance of your health and feli- city." Then turning to Sabina, " pro- tecting angels guard thy innocence, my good girl." The chaise drove up to the door, a reciprocal adieu closed the affecting scene, and the carriage, in a few moments, was out of sight. Oh, how instinctively do the affections ope- D 2 tir!tARY UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 55 CASUALTIES. rate on the human heart; how fondly call forth the powers of nature, and dispose the sympathising breast to be- stow the soothing balm of tenderness and compassion; ingrafting in the unvi- tiated mind, that love and esteem so essentially and constitutionally due to nature and consanguinity. Nothing material occurred during the journey; but, on the evening of the second day, they arrived safe in Portland - street. Mrs. Drummond received them with the highest sa- tisfaction; endeavouring, at the same time, to conceal the emotions of pity struggling within, excited by the pre- sence of Sabina; for she had previously been informed of Mrs. Melford's death, and felt, most tenderly, for the suffer- ings of her orphan daughter. Our CASUALTIES. ' 53 lovely heroine was now once more re-instated in her profession, under that roof which had yielded her the peace- ful fruits of happiness, in the chearful society of her associates : but, alas, that peace was fled; she felt, in her bosom, an aching void, and a settled melancholy seemed to prey upon her spirits. Mrs. Drummond perceived the conflict with infinite concern, and strove, by mild and gentle reasoning, to dissipate the gloom: and, as we ob- served in a foregoing page, the most poignant sensations of misery are con- quered by time; it is a balsam for every wound, though accomplished by slow gradations. On Mrs. Delrymple's arrival at her house, she was informed that Captain Aubery had left his card, and would call D 3 54 CASUALTIES. again the next morning. According to his promise,, the servant announced his arri- val; after many tenderenquiries of Sabina, (too pointed for Mrs. T3ehymple to mis- construe) he related the circumstance of having received his saihng orders, and doubted whether he should have the fe- licity of seeing Miss Melford before he embarked for the West Indies, natu- rally concluding that she was then in Yorkshire, and Mrs. Delrymple judged it most prudent he should remain igno- rant of Sabina's address. " But," con- tinued Aubery, " it would afford me infinite pleasure, madam, were I assured that Miss Melford w^ould allow me a place in her remembrance ; would it appear an insult to her sorrows, w^ere I to indulge the propensity I feel of CASUALTIES. 55 troubling her with a few lines ?" — " Be- lieve me, sir, she is possessed of too much good sense," replied Mrs. Del- rymple, " to mistake sympathy for im- pertinence." — " No, sir, she is emphati- cally a child of nature : her heart is the seat of gratitude, and of every virtue that can dignify a female, and justly render her the idol of all who know her." *' They do, indeed, madam," said Aubery, " Angelic lovely girl ! I hope," added he, with a sigh, " that I have not seen her for the last time." — " Proba- bly not, sir," returned Mrs. D— — , with a smile. '^ She will shortly be in London for a continuance. Notwith- standing, should you wish, sir, to ad- dress Miss Melford, the letter shall be forwarded to her with a packet I am D 4 S6 CASUALTIES. myself going to send." — " I thank you, madam," rejoined Aubery ; " and, as I am only bound to convoy a fleet of mer- chantmen, I take my leave, under the animating persuasion, that, in a short time, I shall have the honor of again paying you my respects." He now took his leave, and, in the course of that day, sent a letter for Sabina. Mrs. Delrymple, who felt an interest in every thing which concerned our heroine, se- cretly enjoyed the idea that she had cap- tivated the heart of Aubery ; but this is not a time (thought she) to enter upon a subject so foreign to her present feelings ; and, placing the letter in her escritoir, determined to wait the return of her former spirits ; and a few weeks subsequent to Captain Aubery's departure, a favorable oppor- CASUALTIES. 57 tunity occurred, when Mrs. Delrymple faithfully discharged her trust, by pre- senting Sabina with the tender epistle. Its contents, however, were buried in oblivion, as she forbore expatiating with Sabina on the subject. — Nothing of any moment occurred from this period wor- thy of observation, until the term of Miss Melford's apprenticeship was ex- pired, when, by the particular request of Mrs. Delrymple, she became an in- mate in her family, where she had re- sided but a short time before Mrs. Drummond was taken suddenly ill, and begged that Miss Melford might be sent for : she immediately obeyed the sum- mons. The good woman took her hand, and thus addressed her : " My dear Sabina, I have a proposal to make, which, if it accords with your senti- D 5 58 CASUALTIES. ments, will, I trust, become a genteel establishment for you and your sisters. I am far advanced you know in life, and have accumulated a sufficiency to supply all my wants during the evening ^of my days. My health is at best but precarious ; and, should I recover, have serious thoughts of retiring to my native place ; consequently I shall relinquish business. I have no relations who have the slightest claim upon my generosity. I shall therefore make it over to you, with such part of my houshold furniture as you will find necessary on entering the world in such a respectable profes- sion" — she paused ; " My best friend,'* Sabina was proceeding. — " Stop," in- terrupted Mrs. Drummond ; " I hav>€ not yet concluded, my dear. I had a great esteem for your worthy parents : CASUALTIES. ;69 your amiable mother was dear to me from her infancy ; she was an orphan like yourself; and it gives me a singu- lar degree of pleasure to perceive that you emulate her virtues. Possessing those hereditary principles, those ge- nuine notions of honor, your every pur- suit through life, I doubt not, will be crowned with success." " My gratitude, madam," replied Sa- bina, " is all I have to oiFer in return for your generous friendship ; and I am doubly sensible of the obligation under my present circumstances ; for through my dear Mrs. Delrymple is beneficence itself, tender and affectionate to uie ia the extreme, yet, knowing that my si- tuation with her affords me but a tem- porary asylum, I frequently feel a secret pang at the idea of a precarious futurity, D 6 60 CASUALTIES. My dear sisters too — they have occupied much of my thoughts ! but your Hberal and generous offer, madam, realizes the hope which I long have fondly cherished. My much regretted mother would often say to me, * When you, my dear Sabina, are perfectly mistress of a genteel pro- fession, the terrors of death will be van- quished ; I shall then meet my end with resignation, for I know you will act a pa- rent's part to your orphan sisters.' Judge then, my dear friend, with what eager delight I accept the proffered blessing, to realize with such flattering prospects the darling wish of a fond mother's heart." ** A heart so tempered with genuine sensibility, so fraught with filial piety as yours," said Mrs. Drummond, " has an universal claim upon every noble and CASUALTIES. 61 generous mind. Yes, my good girl ; the opinion I ever entertained of your merit is increased, and with it my zeal to serve you. I therefore advise you, Sabina, to write immediately to your guardian, and consult with Mrs. Del- . rymple. Whenever you feel inclined to embrace the offer I have made you, my arms shall be open to receive you. If it please the Almighty to spare my life, I will continue for a twelvemonth with you ; at which period, I trust, you will be sufficiently initiated in the busi- ness to dispense with my instructions : your two eldest sisters by that time will have finished their education ; they will become useful in the profession, and in- crease your happiness." " My dear m.adam," replied Sabina, *' the enchanting plan of felicity which 62 . CASUALTIES, you have marked out for me, almost makes me forget my recent sorrows; but I must entreat you, my dear friend, to pay attention to your health. I will not be long absent. Mrs. Delrymple I am convinced will sanction every pro- posal which tends to my future welfare. Adieu my best, my dearest friend, heaven I hope will soon enable you to recover the effects of your indisposi- tion." On Sabina's return to Queen-square, she was presented with a letter from Captain Aubery, dated from Plymouth. Mrs. Delry^Tiple, in a strain of vivacity, could not forbear rallying her, observ- ing^ as she took the letter, a modest blush to suffice her lovely cheeks. — " Don't be ashamed, my love, this is not the first epistle from the same quar- I CASUALTIES. 63 ter, you know; but you kept the con- tents of the former to yourself. You must allow me to participate in this, my love" — " Most willingly, my dear ma- dam," answered Sabina ; " thtjirst^ I assure you, did not contain more than half a dozen lines, which consisted of the most friendly enquiries after my health." — " Well, my dear," resumed Mrs. D , " Are you not impa- tient to know what his enquiries are in the present letter. I suspect they are not altogether unconnected with the subject — His oxvn health." Sabina, while breaking the seal, with great sim- plicity, said, " Do you suspect that Captain Aubery is ill, madam ?" — " If he is, my' love," replied Mrs. D , *' his malady is a natural one. Come, read your letter, child, and if I predict 64 Cx^SUALTIES. aright, depend upon it the poor dear gentleman has appointed ijou his physi- cian." Sabina read the letter, blushed, and gave it to her friend, who perused it, and smiled ; then taking the hand of Sabina, affectionately said, " I congratu- late you, my dear girl ; few there are, I believe, but would be proud to own the impression which you have assuredly made on the heart of that amiable young man. I could have apprized you of Captain Aubery's sentiments long since; but I conceived him perfectly com- petent to tell his own story. He has told it now in very plain English, and leaves you sole ^rbitress of his future destiny." — " I can never doubt, madam, Captain Aubery's sincerity, or the honor of his intentions," returned Sabina; ''but, were I to encourage any idea of that ^^i\^ CASUALTIES. 65 tlemaiibeyond what gratitude and esteem might sanction, 1 should reproach my- self for my presumption. The great disparity between Sab'ina Melford and Captain Auhery^ is an unsuperable bar to thdr union. I shall ever hold him in the highest estimation as a noble ge- nerous friend. Farther ideas I can never cherish, at least not under my present circumstances ; and I am per- suaded, my dear madam, that you will applaud my resolution, when I relate to you the conversation I have had this morning with my dear friend Mrs. Drummond.*" — " She is, indeed, a wor- thy woman, Sablna,'* said Mrs. Del- rymple, '• and she regards you with the affection of a parent. I will attend to every thing you have to tell me after dinner ; but, at present, I have some 66 CASUALTIES. few observations to make on the sub- ject in question. You must know, my dear, that since Captain Aubery ho- nored me with a visit, I have made it mj business to enquire some particulars relative to his origin and character, and have learnt that he is the only son of a wealthy baronet, is possessed of every vir- tue and qualification that can adorn and do honor to man; therefore you may per- ceive it is not a mean or contemptible .conquest you have made ; and, though your diffidence will not allow you to en- courage the addresses of a man who ranks in life so much above you, yet remember, that love is an indiscrimi- nate passion ; and that it often unites the courtier with the peasant. Distinc- tions of rank or fortune are seldom found to influence the mind, when the | CASUALTIES. 67 heart becomes truly susceptible of virtu- ous love ; but 1 will urge you no further on the subject at present. Answer your letter as gratitude and politeness dictates ; and though you should say nothing to feed the lambent flame, pity and generosity, I trust, will deter you from expressing such sentiments as might tend to extinguish the glowing embers of an infant, a tender, and apparently most honorable passion." Dinner being announced, the conversa- tion ended ; and, in the evening, as was proposed, Sabina repeated all that had passed between her and Mrs. Drum- mond. Mrs. Delrymple received the information with a mixture of pleasure and regret. She was a very domestic woman, aqxi had little intercourse with the fashionable world. Sabina was a companion perfectly congenial to her ^8 CASUALTIES. wishes in the sedentary stile she lived in ; but she clearly saw the advantages which would accrue to an orphan fa- i mily, from her embracing the liberal proposals made her. She therefore abandoned every selfish desire to their more immediate interests. Mrs. Drum- mond's health continued fluctuating, and it was considered expedient that Sa- bina should lose no time in accepting her generous offer. She accordingly returned to her profession. Mrs. Drum- mond had carefully provided against the worst that might befal her, by making her Will in favor of Miss: Melford, wherein she had bequeathed her the greatest part of her houshold furniture, and put her in full possession of the ' business. In the course of a few months subsequent to this period, Mrs. Del- i CASUALTIES. 69 rjmple found herself under the neces- sity of making a journey to Scotland, in order to transact some important bu- siness. Mrs. Drummond was, at the , same time, preparing to visit the latter country likewise, and therefore gladly embraced the opportunity of accompa- nying her friend. Sabina now saw with inexpressible concern, that a few days would separate her from her worthy friends. She wrote to her guardian, re- questing that one of her sisters might join her as soon as possible ; but the return of post brought her the melancholy tidings that her sisters were all seized with a scarlet fever, and Mary, which was the eldest^ in imminent danger. This sad intelligence caused her doubly to regret the loss of her wor- thy patronesses. Her timid heart sunk 70 CASUALTIES. with fearful apprehensions, when she reflected on her youth and inexperience, and the dano;er of beino; thus left with- out a friend or monitor, to whose can- dor or wisdom she could appeal in mat- ters above her own judgment. Mrs. Drummond perceived, with concern, a natural diffidence and meekness of tem- per in Sabina, which she feared might subject her to impositions in her inter- course with the world ; but for every thing which related to the propriety of her personal conduct, she entertained no fears. It is probable that Mrs. Drummond's attachment to Sabina would have induced her to continue a considerable time longer in town ; but feeling a gradual decay of nature, she became impatient to visit the place of !her birth ; and, after many tender and CASUALTIES. 71' affectionate admonitions, she bade our heroine adieu, with a satisfaction only known to those who can say, with a ce- lebrated author, " That next to being happy ourselves, is the pleasure of mak- ing others so.'* A few weeks subsequent to the de- parture of the two ladies, Sabina re- ceived a letter from Captairi ' Aubery, dated from the island of Barbadoes ; she hastily broke the seal, and read as fol- lows : — " If the name of Edward Aubery was ever considered worthy a place in Miss Melford's memory, he fears by this time his apparent neglect has blotted it out for ever. Yet, amiable, beloved Sabina, he fain would cherish the fofifd hope that neither time nor absence has wholly obliterated his remembrance. 72 CASUALTIES. For oh, his happiness is centered in the pleasing anticipation of again beholding you, all lovely as you are : Miss Melford pleads disparity of situation — can wealth dignify the soul ? Can poverty diminish the intrinsic virtues that adorn the mind ? — These are the inestimable gems that add lustre to the humblest sphere. These were what first rendered you dear, and must ever continue to render you dear to my heart. Think not, therefore, my adored Sabina ! *Oh think not so poorly of yourself! Wound not my faithful heart by a mistaken diffi- dence ; but permit me to hope for the attainment of that felicity to which I aspire ; a felicity which vulgar souls are incapable of feeling. — Oft I view, with heartfelt regret, the immensity of the liquid space which divides me from my CASUALTIES. 73 native land, from all I hold most dear. How would the correspondence of my Sabina dispel the gloomy presages that embitter the tedious hours of absence ! Pity, I well know, is the inmate of thy gentle bosom ! Oh let that dictate a cheering line of encouragement ! At least, let me entertain the hope you have not totally forgotten Barbadoesy AuberyJ* Oct. 10, 1753. The mind of Sabina was agitated by various sensations ; and, could Aubery have viewed her countenance at that moment, he might have read the secret feelings of her heart ; for it was now that she felt the tender passion he had inspired. She again perused the letter: it spoke the soft language of love; it VOL. I. E 74 CASUALTIES. breathed sincerity, honour, and esteem. A tear appeared to have fallen upon the paper, in which Aubery lamented the immensity of seas that rolled betweerw them ; and it excited a correspondent ttiar of sympathy in the eye of Sabina. She heaved a sigh, and murmured to her~ self, " Generous young man !" — *' Yes, Aubery, from this moment will I treasure up thy noble image in my bosom ; there shall it reign unrivalled;, nor shall distance, place, or time, ever chace from my heart, or destroy the remembrance of thy transcendent vir- tues." As Sabina was thus dwellin-o; on the pleasing theme which now engrossed her attention, her meditations were sud- denly disturbed by a carriage driving up to the door. As it was within a few CASUALTIES. 75 weeks of her majesty's birth-day, a lady had called to bespeak a dress for the oc- casion. Sabina had never seen this lady before ; but was informed that Mrs. Cookson, one of her employers, had recommended her. When the lady had given instructions for her dress, she presented Sabina with her card, and took her leave. " Wentworth," ex- claimed Sabina, in astonishment at read- ing the superscription on the card : " Good heaven ! The name of Went- worth brings to my recollection the sad remembrance of happier days. Dear, dear name, it is engraven on my heart ; but alas, I have no interest in it now, except to please in my profession the lady who bears it." Then, with a sigh, seating herself at the window, a train of thoughts rushed on her mind ; E 2 16 CASVAtfTlES. a sort of melancholy stale over her, and presented the sad retrospect of past times ; nor was it till some time had elapsed, and the idea of Aubery ha^d dis- sipated the gloom, that she was enabled to rise. We shall not, however, intrude upon the patience of our readers in this part, by dwelling on the subject of her con- templation, but proceed to the principal events of our heroine's life. Sabina wd^ at this time immersed in business ; and, expecting every day the arrival of her sister Mary, the days passed on in pkcid content ; but, alas, this calm waS; transient : A melancholy accident befel her, which, for some time, suspended a^Jl her prospects of happiness, and re- duced her to a state of misery and des- pair. She had been sent for one even- CASUALTIES. 7Y ing to wait upon a lady in Portland- place, who detained her a considerable time longer than she expected, and was returning home between nine and ten o'clock, when, approaching the street in which she lived, she was alarme(i by a crv of fire : she hastened on, anxious to escape the crowd that was assem- bling, when, in a few moments, she was shocked with the sight of her own. house in flames. In less than two hours it was reduced to ashes. — Thus she be- came in an instant a miserable houseless wanderer, destitute even of the com- mon necessaries of life : her whole pro- perty was consumed ; her servants and 'workwomen were dispersed, unable to find them ; and, in a state easier to be conceived than described, she was ob- liged to take refuge in the house of a 5 3' 7S CASUALTIES. neighbour, who commiserated her un- happy situation, and very humanely as- sured her that an apartment should be at her service, until she could acquaint her friends of her misfortune. It was, indeed, next to impossible but that the most obdurate heart must, in some de- gree, sympathize with the fair sufferer. Several days elapsed before her spirits were sufficiently recovered from the shock they had sustained, to adopt any plan for the future. The first thing that occurred to her distracted imagina- tion was to write to her guardian ; for she reflected how unavailing it would be, at that moment, to disclose her mis- fortunes to her female friends then iiji Scotland, as such an event could not fail of making them wretched in the extreme, without yielding her (the dis- CASUALTIES, 19 tance was so great) any immediate re- lief; and after having written to her guardian a faithful statement of every c icumstance, and requesting a speedy remittance, she assumed all the courage and fortitude she was mistress of, and waited upon such of her employers whose clothes had been destroyed in the conflao-ration. It was some allevia- tion of her distresses, to find in every bosom a tender commiseration for her calamity. A subscription was imme- diately raised by several ladies of dis- tinction ; and, in the course of a week, she engaged genteel apartments, made a handsome acknowledgment to the good people who had afforded her an asylum in her affliction, and took pos- session of her new abode, though not under the most happy impression, every E 4 80 CASUALTIEIS. 'one about her being strangers, for she liiad not as yet been able to gain any information of her servant or work- tvomen ; that circumstance preyed also inuch on her mind and spirits. — How-- ever, her own misfortunes did not create despondency, but rather stimu- liatfed in her breast a zeal to re-com- mence her industrious pursuits, to faci- litate which she became doubly indefa- tigable in her profession. She had in her letter to her guardian begged that her sister would hasten to her as soon as possible; and the return of post brought her an answer from Mr. Ed- wards, in which he assured her, that, in the space of three weeks, he should be himself in London, accompanied by her sisters Mary and Eliza ; and, at the same tin^e, advised Sabina to continue CASUALTIES. 81 with the friendly people in whose house she had taken refuge, to board with them until he should , arrive, when a proper situation should then be fixed upon for her re-commencement in bu- siness : he also expressed his great grief and concern for the unfortunate occur- rence — but intreated her to keep up her spirits, assuring her that nothing should be wanting which the sincerest friendship could suggest to place he^* again in a situation equally comfortable^ Sabina felt the force of this advice,, from a thorough conviction that Mr. Edwards judged it highly improper for so young a woman to enter upon any aew plan or speculation without the opi- nion of ber friends. But how could she now retract? She had taken possession of her lodging upwards of a week ; she E 5 82 CASUALTIES. had also received liberal donations from many of her employers, and as much business crowding in upon her as she was enabled to engage in. She there- fore determined to address her guardian, and plead that the step she had unad- visedly taken, prudence had dictated to her^ and that it wore the most flattering appearance of success. With the ap- proval of her own conscience, in hav- ing acted consonant with her ideas of propriety, she answered the letter, and dispatched it by return of post. But fate had pre-determined ever to crush the rising hopes of the unfortu- nate Sabina. One evening, having a dress to take home, she fastened her doors; requefted the landlady would take any message that might be sent in her absence, as she was going into the CASUALTIES. 83 city: from whence, having transacted her business, she returned home. On entering her apartment, fhe was start^ led at perceiving the window of her bed-chamber thrown open; but how much greater was her consternation upon casting her eyes around the rooms, to find them stripped of every article of wearing apparel, as well as a quantity of plate belonging to the people of the house, which had been deposited in a closet, where, they in- formed her, they always kept it for safety. She instantly flew down stairs, almost frantic, and acquainted the mistress of the house, that thieves, in her absence, had got in at the window, and plundered the apartments of every thing. " Is my plate gone?" demanded she. Sabina burst into tears. " It is E 6 84< CASUALTIES. indeed, madam," she replied. " Oh, what shall I do? several dresses belong- ing to my best friends; my own apparel too; all, all, are gone. Oh, when shall I find a period to my misfortunes?" The unfeeling monster darted at her a look, which penetrated her very souL " This comes of my taking folks into my hous^e without a character/* said she; " but I shall expect, madam, that you will make good my loss ; you know the property was entrusted to your care." She then flounced out of the room, leavino" the astonished Sabina in a state of inexpressible horror. Lan- guage is inadequate to pourtray the poig- tiant sensations that wrung the heart of the afflicted girl. . She returned to her miserable apartment, which now pre- iented nothing but a scene of terror and •CASUALTIES, 85 desolation: driven almost to frenzy, she threw herself on the bed. " Al- mighty powers !" she exclaimed, " direct me how to aft ; extricate me frorr* this labyrinth of woe into which I am plunged. O, ye sainted spirits of my tlear departed parents, could ye, for a moment, view the miseries of your wretched child, how would it afflict ye in the mansions of the blest. Cruel misfortune; thy keen arrows surely are pointed against my happiness. Oh, why does trouble thus closely pursue me through every avenue of life. In this deplorable state of mind, she pas- sed a sleepless night, and arose in the morning to witness a scene altogether as new as it was terrific. She had juft sat down, wrapped in sad reflection on the fatal occurrences of the preced- 85 CASUALTIES. ing evening, when the door was sud- denly thrown open, and two ill-looking fellows rushed into the room; she started from her seat, and demanded their business': one of them drew a pa- per from his pocket, answering, they had a writ against her. Sabina at first did not comprehend their meaning, until they, observing her confusion, added, " Why, madam, Mrs. Clark, your landlady, says you have robbed your lodgings, which, by the laws of this country, is deemed felony; but she has humanely, in consideration of your youth, only made a debt of it; so you must pay forty pounds, procure bail, or go to prison : you have your choice." Sabina became motionless ; she sunk ' into a chair, and, for some minutes, remained in a state of insensibility. CASUALTIES. 87 The men were alarmed, and rang the bell, but no one approached: when the injured girl, revivuig,xclai med," Cruel ungenerous woman, she knows that I am 7iot the guilty wretch you insinuate; I have, miyself, been robbed, plundered of all I possessed,, except a little money which I locked up in this bureau. She flew to it, in order to discharge the debt, illegal as it was; but, alas, all was gone. For she had, the night be- fore, owing to the dread confusion she suffered for the loss of all her other property, omitted investigating her apartments further than for those arti- cles which, on her entrance, she saw were missing. She inftantly uttered a piercing shriek, and fell upon the floor. The men now felt themselves in a very aukward predicament, and began to S8 CASlTxlLTIES. suspect that their prisoner was- the vic- tim of a base conspiracy. They placed her in a chair : her fleeting senses, iit a few minutes, returned ; when she gazed at them with a wildness in her eyes which seriously alarmed them : the power of utterance seemed to have for- saken her. One of the men addressed her in a tone of voice, in some mea- sure, calculated to soothe her sorrows ; ** Come, madam," said'he, '' don't give yourself up to despair; if imi are the injured person, the laws are open to redress your wrongs; Mrs. Clarke has told her story, and you will be allowed the same privilege to tell yours: but you must now accompany me, where you will shortly have an opportunity of proving your innocence, and of obtain- ing justice also." " Yes, sir," replied CASUALTIES. S9 Sablna, with a composure that asto- nished them; " I shall attend you, gen- tlemen : my miseries are now com- plete !" A coach was sent for, in which, by the officers, she was con- ducted to prison. The letter that Sa- bina had received from Mr. Edwards the day previous to this misfortune, contained a remittance of fifty pounds ; «he had placed it in this bureau un- touched; but that, with every other article of value she was plundered of, reduced her to a situation wretched in the extreme. When they alighted at the prison doors, the sight of such a place impressed Sabina*s mind with horrors almost insupportable: conscioi^ innocence, slone, strengthened and in- spired her with patience and fartit^jd^ to bear up under the shock of adversity,^ 90 CASUALTIES. under the pressure of her accumulated woes. On entering the dismal mansion of misery, she cast her eyes around, and beheld several fellow-sufferers of her own sex, whose wretched appear- ance bespoke extreme poverty. Her own sorrows became less poignant, and compassion for those of others, took its turn in her sympathetic bosom. Her attention was Tf)articularly attracted by a poor young creature, who, in one corner of the room, sat upon a misera* ble bed, with a book in her hand; her emaciated frame was but barely co- vered with a tattered garment: in short, she exhibited a melancholy picture of despair. Sabina felt an interest in the appa- rent sufferings of this poor girl, and secretly wished to know what wayward CASUALTIES. 91 fate had reduced her to such a state of complicated misery. Sabina had, upon her entrance to the prison, enquired for the keeper; but was informed that she could not see him before the evening, or the following day: she therefore strove to compose her mind, and purposed writing to some of her most confidential friends a circumstantial account of her unhappy situation. She according-lv addressed herself to this poor girl, and begged she would instruct her by what means she could procure pen, ink, and paper. " I have some, at your service, ma- dam," she replied: " the only consola- tion left me, under heaven, is to com- mit to paper, each succeeding day, the sad events of my woe-fraught life. Sixteen months," continued she, " have 92 CASUALTIES. I lingered out a painful existence in this dreary prison; but I feel the moment fast approaching which will separate me from misery for ever. Should ^ver my hapless tale be told in after- times, a tear of pity may, perhaps, be shed £6r injured innocence. My unmerited per- secution will soon find a termination in the silent grav^.'* The tears of sympathy glistened in the eyes of Sabina. " Have you no friends ?" said she, " you appear to be very young." " No friend on earth," replied she, ** that I know of, madam. Sorrow was entailed upon me at my birth; I have been the victim of cruelty and oppression from my infancy. What little I know of my origin, I have com- mitted to paper ; as also every event of CASUALTIES. 03 my unhappy life. Your stay in this place, madam, I hope will be but of a short duration. If agreeable,** conti- nued she, " I will submit to your peru- sal my unfortunate narrative ; and, should the melancholy recital meet with your commiseration, I have no doubt but a moment may arrive, when you, blest with the smiles of fortune, will look back on the suffering Fanny, should cruel fate prolong an existence which every hour becomes less supportable." Sabina's compassionate bosom heaved with stifled sighs, and the tears streamed down her lovely cheeks. Tenderly taking the poor unhappy Fanny by the hand, with a voice scarcely articulate, she assured her of her friendship. '* Should it ever be in my power,'* added she, " poor injured suffer, to al- o* CASUALTIES, leviate thy sorrows, and release thee from the horrors of this wretched place, I shall bless the misfortune that made me an inmate of this mansion of mi^ sery." Fanny now presented Sabina with the manuscript, which the latter put in her pocket. They passed the day in reciprocal confidence, and mutual sym- pathy. The evening was fast approach- ing, and Sabina looked forward with anxious hopes to an interview with the keeper of the prison. She had dis- patched a letter to an old faithful do- mestic of Mrs. Delrymple's ; as also one to a particular friend of that lady, stating her deplorable situation. At length she was informed that the keeper had returned, and desired to know what might be her business with CASUALTIES, 95 him. " My business," said she to the messenger, " I wish to communicate in person, if he will be so good as to grant me an interview." — " O, cer- tainly," replied the man ; " please to follow me." She was conducted to an outer apart- ment, and waited but a few minutes ere the keeper entered. Sabina's mteresting countenance, her elegant figure, and modest deportment, so much astonished him, that he stood for some time gazing upon her in silent admiration. " Ma- . deed, T could scarcely credit my own eyes. On passing through the room, (which was encircled with mirrors from^ the ciellng to the floor), 1 beheld my long flaxen tresses flowing in ringlets about my shoulders, which, but an hour before, had been concealed by a little dirty mob-cap, fastened under my chin. But in order to avoid prolixity,, it may suffice to repeat, that in the course of a week, I was provided with every neces- sary article of dress appropriate to rny years. I was then, by this a/7-^2/^/ and humane housekeeper, taken to a board- ing-school, about ten miles from town ; where I experienced the first interval of happiness which I had ever known. At F 5 10^ CASUALTIES. the expiration of two years, I was sen6 for by rtiy benefactress, Th€ great im- provefment in miy mannerly and the wonderful progress I had made in my cdtieation, astonished her; and she ex- pifessedi herself much eharmed with my personal attractions. I felt a secret de- Wght in beholding three young ladies nearly of my own agCj wham Mrs. K— informed me were her nieces. I had been at home about a-week, when, one evening, contrary to the usual custom, Mrs. K entered the housekeeper's fGom, where I was constantly employed at^ my needfe. She seated herself by my side : *' Fanny,' said< she, ^ i am pfea^ed to perceive that the educatioa which I have bestowed upon you, has 30 polished your manners^ and ciilti- irated your luiderstanding, thai I think CASUALTIES. 107 I may venture to Introduce you amongst my friends, without any fear that you will cause me to blush for the experi- ment. Some gentlemen of my acquaint- ance,' continued she, ' intend to honor ' me with their company this evening. They will probably compliment you ; tell you that you are a lovely girl ; sa- lute you ; perhaps make love to you. Gentlemen,. Fanny, are a sort of privi-* leged beings ; they think they have ai, right to act as they please. So, my dear, you will dress yourself in your last new robe and petticoat, and Miss Emily shall fetch you to the drawing-room.' — I tbaiiked my benefactress for her conde- scensioa, and hastened to my apartment to adorn my person, eagerly antici- pating the pleasure of the novel scene I was about to experience. I had scarcely F <5 108 CASUALTIES. finished dressing, when a thundering- rap at the door announced the arrival of the visitors. O how my young heart palpitated ! I trembled, yet I knew not wherefore ; and when I was summoned to attend the company, my agitation increased, — ' You look charmingly to* night, Fanny ^' said Emily i * you will certainly captivate his grace.' — ^Whea we entered the drawing-room, I was ra- ther surprised to find Mrs. K — in con- versation with an elderly gentleman— for I had figured to my imagination, that the party would consist of several young men o( fashion, Mrs. R — , in a few minutes, withdrew, saying, as she quitted the room, * Don't look so sheep- ish, Fanny r you don't want for sense i and your education, I thought, would; have taught you to enter a room with a. CASUALTIES. 105 little more air and dignity. But your grace will excuse her aukwardness/ turning to the old gentleman. " We were now left alone. He eagerly seized my trembling hand. — • • Lovely girl ! sweet innocence !' said he, * that simplicity, that modest blush charms me beyond the power of descrip*- tion !' — He now led me to a seat ; and, placing himself by my side, he conti- nued — ' Your worthy friend, my dear, was resolved the colouring of the picture should fall infinitely short of the origi- nal. She described you a pretty little peasant girl ; but you have beauty that would tempt an hermit; a form that would mock the sculptor !' — i\nd, after viewing me with a frightful w^ildness in his eyes, he caught me in his arms, and carried me to a sofa, where, with the 110 CASUALTIES. most lascivious kisses, he continued to hold me in a close embrace, until I be- carhe almost breathless. "Alas, gentle reader; young, inno- cent, and ignorant, as I then was, na?- ture had instructed me that such beha-^ viour was a breach of propriety, and an insult to female deUcacy. I sprang from his rude grasp, and burst into tears. ' I would rather go to my own apartment, if you please, sir,' said I, in a tremulous voice, fearful of giving offence: for, heaven is my witness, I kn^ew not, in reality, what such con- duct meant; yet was confident all was not right. * You little foolish girl,' said he, ' why are you thus agitated? do not you know it will be to you^ interest to comply with my wishesi I mean to take you to myself; you will CASUALTIES. Ill shortly become the envy of your own sex, and the adrairatioii of ours. If you continue here, you are fated to be the slave of every man's desires, who may wish to enjoy you. Promise me, that no other shall partake of those charms, and I will leave you for the present; and to-morrow I will fetch you to my own house: but keep this to yourself, for I know your friend, Mrs. K , does not wish to part with you.' I forced a smile of seeming approbation, thanked him, curtsied, and withdrew. The veil of ignorance was now with- drawn, and I saw the precipice on which I stood. In a few minutes afteir I had reached the housekeeper's room, my apprehensions were confirmed by the entrance of the old Jezzubel. - ' I congratulate you, Fanny,' sa^id ahe, on; 112 CASUALTIES, the noble conquest which you have made; his Grace the Duke of , is really quite enamoured of you, and will be your constant visitor. You was ra- ther alarmed, I understand, at his first overtures of love: — but he is a charming man^ and you will soon be reconciled to his addresses. Sophia, Emily, and Ju- lia, were as coy as you,, when they were as young; but now they enjoy the fruits of their complacency, by receiving the most profuse presents from their admirers. His Grace has informed me that he will take you to some place of public amuse- ment to-morrow, and then pass the re- mainder of the evening with you at home.' The se'ducing, artful wretch, was thus running on in a strain of panegyric, when a loud rap at the door attracted her attention; she instantly. CASUALTIES. 115 quitted the room, which, fortunately, saved me from the dreadful alternative of a reply. Mrs. Donaldson now ad- vised me to retire to my own apart- ment, which was a small room upon the attic story. * Take off your new clothes, Fanny,' said she, ' you will not see any more company to night.' For reasons best known to them- selves, I was not allowed to sleep or associate with anv of the other crirls. On passing the drawing-room door, in my . way to my apartment, I heard several voices that sounded like persons intoxicated. Curiosity prompted me to place my ear to the key-hole. ' When is this little frigate, you have bragged so much of, to be launched? eh!' cried a gentleman, in an impetuous tone; ^I thought she would have been under? 114 CASUAJLTIES. weigh by this time; remember you have appointed me to ihe command.' * My dear captain, you are so impa- tient,' replied this infamous old pro*- Guress; ' I intend to fetch her from, tke country in a day or two. Come,. let mc prevail upon you; to stay with. Sophia to-night ; and I give you my. word, that you shall see thia chicken: of my own rearing, before the week is out.! ** I had heard enough: to convince me /that 1 was the intended sacrifice: I stole .gently up stairs^ and reached mj' own apartment unperceived. It was about the hour of nine. I reflected, that on the following day, my ruin was in-evi-t- able; how was it to be averted? flight seemed impracticable.' " Should this detail of my miseries ever be perused, the reader will wonder CASUALTIES. 115 by what means I had, at so early an age, imbibed those rigid notions of honor ; bred up, as I had been from my infancy, with people who never con- cerned themselves about my morals. I cannot, in any other way, account i^or the horrors 1 felt at the idea of a vicious life, than that nature had inspired an innate principle of virtue, and whispered to my heart, ' Pursue the path which honor points; for honor ever meets its own retvatd*'* 1 followed its sacred dictates, and am now comparatively happy/ " I have drank deep of affliction's cup,, even to the very dregs; but I thank that providence which has preserved me invi- olate to the present moment; it is a consolation which the wicked can never rob me of. The orphan's prayer was never yet put up to heaven in vain. 116 CASUALTIES. Mercy is a divine attribute ; and whea the measure of my woes is full, the guardian angel, who presides over inno- cence, will guide my anxious soul to that asylum of everlasting happiness, where the guilty can never come.. — But I am degressing." " When 1 had changed my dress, it occurred to me, that I could descend the back stair-case, where, it was very probable, at that time of night, I should not be met by any of the family, ac they were all engaged at the c:her end of the house. I did so, and, unperceived, got out at the back-door, which led into a narrow court. Fear of detection gave me wings; for I flew, rather than walked, the distance of several streets, without stopping. I, at length, found myself ia'a square, almost breathless. CASUALTIES. 117 I sat down on the steps of a door — the watchman was taking his rounds; and I had sat but a few minutes, before he, with a sternness which terrified me, de- manded why I sat there? * Come, come,* said he, * get you home, girl ; this is not a time of night to be lounging about people's doors ; I shall take you to the watch-house if you do not go about your business.' I could not make a reply at that moment, but burst into a flood of tears; he, however, waited for xny answer. * Dear, dear, good sir,' 5aid I, sobbing, * I have no home to go to, indeed I have not.' He remained silent; encouraged by which, I told him my sad story. * Were I sure,' re- sumed he, * that what you have related is true, I would take you home to my wife, rather than you should lie in the lis CA5T7ALTTES. Street.* The simplicity of tny reply sained me credit with the humane watchman, and he accordingly con- ducted me to his home. He repeated to his wife all that I had told him: the tear of sympathy stood in -her eye, as ^he 'attentively listened to him. When he concluded, she turned and welcomed iiie, with an embrace, to "her humble dwelling. 'The good man now took 'hi^ leave, and went again to 'his duty. Mh wife informed me that she was a laun- dress; * and if^' ^continued she, ** yOti ferik that you can ^arrt an honest bit of bread by industry, I will employ you ; for I often want an assistant.' I joyfully Accepted her kind offer. The following morning she proposed taking my cloaths, which consisted of white mlislin, to a sale-shop, and exchanging CASTJALTIES. 11^ them for such as were better adapted to my situation ; I chearfully consented to her proposal, la the course of an hour she returned with a neat dark cotton gown, a stuff petticoat, coloured hand- kerchief, apron, &:c. " Dear, good creature! her gene- rous exertions to serve me, at once ex- cited in my heart the sentiments of love, gratitude, .and esteem. ^^ Under this humble, but hospitable roof, I continued for some months ; I ate the bread of industry ; I earned it with honor, and enjoyed it v/ith content- ment. But alas ! there was a dreadful •fatality attached to every thing which concerned me through life I Some omi- nous planet surely presided at my birth, and influenced my destiny. During my residence with these people, nothing oc- ]20 CASUAL'TIRS, curred to. render me uncomfortable un- til one fatal day, when the good woman sent me on a little business into the city. Just as I was crossing the end of Chancery-^lane, I recognized the fea- tures of her whom I once had called by the endearing name of mother. I instantly accosted her : at first she did not recollect me ; but when I told her who I was, she began to upbraid me. .* So, Fanny ! I find you ran away from your master and mistress ! Pray what do you think of yourself P'-^L requested her patiently to hear my reasons ; she complied. I told her progressively all that had befallen me ; but when I came to that part of my narrative where I had been two years aj: school, she hither lips, and said^ ' Then, Fanny, you can read and write !' — She paused, and then CASUALTIES. I"21 resumed : ' Well, give me your address, and I will come and see you before I leave town ; for I reside now in the country. I am very glad to find that you are a good girl. But pray where does this wicked woman live, from whom you have escaped?' — I satisfied her curio- sity, gave her my own address, and took my leave. Fatal candor! the mournful cause of my present sufferings. Two days subsequent to this event,'as I was busily employed at my usual occu- pation, the door was suddenly opened ; and, oh ! horrid to describe ! the aban- doned old wretch entered, followed by two men. She gazed at me for a mi- nute ; then turning to the men, and pointing to me with a malicious smile,, said — * There, gentlemen, is your pri- soner ; do your duty.' — She then VOL. I. G 122 CASUALTIES. flounced out of the room ; and I was torn from the poor affectionate woman, who, by this time, felt an attachment to me, similar to that of a parent. I was conveyed to this place, where the tender-hearted creature continued to visit me every opportunity. At last, death robbed me of her: she who was the only consolation left me on this side the grave. ^* The path which I have trod through life has been strewed with thorns ; but a garden of delight forms the limit of the prospect. I now, me- thinks, stand even on the verge of eter- nity, wishfully viewing the realms be- yond the skies, those blissful regions which my wearied soul pants to arrive at." Here eoncbides the Mamiscript. CASUALTIES. 12^ The fate of this noble-minded, unfor- tunate girl, failed not to meet with real commiseration from our heroine. The sad detail breathed the language of truth : it exemplified the beauties of in- nate vlrtae, " Oh,** said Sabina, men- tally, " what heart could ever be so im- penetrably steeled to the feelings of hu- manity, thus to meditate the ruin of so exalted a mind? thus to plunge into misery such innocence and beauty ? Her sad story will never be obliterated from my memory.*' It was a late hour ere Sabina retired to her bed for the remainder of the night ; but sleep had fled from her eyes. The morning, for which her anxious bosom eagerly panted, at length arrived, and was productive of events, not only wonderful in themselves, but of a nature G 2 VM CASUALTIES, calculated to dissipate all the horrors she had sustained the preceding day. The keeper of the prison had dispatched pro- per officers to search the house in which Sabina had been arrested, where they discovered sufficient evidences of guilt to take the master, the mistress, and servant, into custody ; for the first and most incontestable proof of their vil- lainy was, that their own plate, for which the unoffending Sabina had been arrested, was secreted in a cavity of the floor, with the addition of number- less other articles extremely suspicious. The keeper, on this discovery, sent im- mediately to Mr. Cookson a brief state- ment of Miss Melford's situation ; when he instantly received instructions for her liberation. Whilst he was com- municating this agreeable intelligence, CASUALTIES. 125 Mrs. Delrvmple's housekeeper arrived. " O my dear young lady" said she, " Thank heaven, my m.istress will be at home to-night or to-morrow ; and then I am sure she will not let you stay in this dismal place." — '^ My good wo- man," said the keeper, " you may take Miss Melford home with you fiozu ; she is no longer a prisoner." — " This i^ happy news, indeed," replied the old lady. " Aye, I was sure that she did not deserve to be so cruelly treated." Sabina now prepared to take her leave of this abode of misery, returning her sincere thanks to the keeper for his friendly interposition. — " Madam," said he, "I have done nothing more than what I conceive is a duty which we all owe to injured innocence. For, even the guilty have a claim upon our humanity. How G 3 1^26' CASUALTIES. much greater the?! is the clai7n of your wanton sufferings?" — " O good sir," re- turned Sabina, " your every word breathes the accent of philanthropy. Permit me, before I depart this place, to plead the cause of a wretched female, who has been for sixteen months immured within these walls ; and whom, I am persuaded, is a victim to the treache- rous machinations of an abandoned wo- man."—" Ah, Miss Melford," he re^ sumed, " you are not aware of the de- ^ ceptions practised by artful people ; it appears to me to be no very difficult task to impose upon your credulity. No;t but there may be such an object as you have depicted; but it is not my province to investigate the concerns of any prisoner vmless applied to : they might long remain illegally shut from CASUALTIES. 127 the blessines of society unknown to me." — " Pardon me, sir," resumed Sabina, " for the hberty I have taken ; and ac- cept my most grateful thanks for the in- terest you have taken in all that con- cerns myself." — " I shall exert myself still farther, Miss Melford," he replied ; " for I do not despair of recovering your property." At this hint a beam of joy played on the features of our heroine. She again thanked the generous keeper ; and, accompanied by the old servant, bade adieu to the habitation of misery. When they arrived at Mrs. Delrym- ple's house, various sensations agitated the bosom of Sabina. What would her guardian think of the premature mea- sures she had adopted by unadvisedly entering upon business in the house of people whose character and mode of G 4" 128 CASUALTIES. subsistence she was totally ignorant of. The idea, likewise, of apologizing a se- cond time to her generous friends and employers, for having lost their clothes, all of which misfortunes had so rapidly succeeded each other, it not being more •than . thr^e weeks between the fire and the robbery. On the iatter subject she re- solved to remain silent until Mrs. Del- rymple returned. Poor Fanny, too, she felt most acutely for her sufferings ; and therefore banished, for a few minutes, the sorrows that clouded her own pros- pects ; and addressed a letter to the un- Jiappy girl as follows : " I have perused your hapless nar- rative, dear Fanny, with various emo- tions of pity and contempt ; and though the power of serving you is at present with-held from me, yet the sad recital CASUALTIES. 129 of your sufferings will never be erased from my memory. The time perhaps may arrive when a change of circum- stances will enable me to administer some succour and consolation to you in your present unhappy situation. At all events, depend upon me paying you a visit in a few days. The bearer of this will deliver to you the manuscript. Adieu, dear Fanny, believe me, I sub- scribe myself in sympathy, your friend^ 3.ne€n Square^ " S. Melfors.'* Thursday Evening. AiFairs soon began to wear a different complection with our heroine ; and the tide of affliction seemed to be at ebb. The day subsequent to her leaving the prison, she entered into a full elucida- tion of all that' had befel her to the ser- g5 130 CASUALTIES. vant of her friend, who could not for- bear expressing her astonishment. " My dear yoihng lady," said she, " Why did you not come here when your house was burnt." — " I should," replied Sabina, *' had my worthy friend been in town ; but for reasons, which I shall hereafter explain to Mrs. Delrymple, I did not think it prudent to take that liberty in her absence."-— -As our readers must, no doubt, entertain an idea of surprise, that Sabina under her affliction did not immediately fly to the house of a con- firmed friend, it will be necessary there- fore to enter into a justification of her conduct, by explaining her reasons. It may be remembered, in a foregoing page, that Miss Melford was for a short time with Mrs. Delrymple upon the footing of a companion, which she re- CASUALTIES. 131 linqulshed in consequence of Mrs. Drummond's indisposition ; — and the following circumstance, which occurred in Mrs. Deh ymple's family, after Sa- bina had quitted it, appearing at that time to be a matter of no moment, or in the least interesting to the reader, was passed over. A few days prior to Mrs. Delrymple's departure from her house, a gentle- man, w^ho had for some time paid his addresses to her, was returned from a continental tour, accompanied by his brother and nephew. The above lady, knowing his aversion to a hotel, re- quested he would with his friends reside in her bouse during her absence. Those prudential motives it was that influenced the conduct of our heroine ; and during the two days she was there, prior to her G 6 132 CASUALTIES. friend's return from Scotland, she care- fully concealed herself from every eye except the old housekeeper. At length the wished-for moment arrived, which brought back in safety her beloved friend, v^ho had no sooner entered the doors, when they were in each others arms. Mrs. Delrymple burst into a flood of tears, and exclaimed, " My poor dear girl ! but heaven be praised, 3/0M have escaped the conflagration. I have seen your guardian, Sabina ; he has informed me of the dire calamity which has befel you ; but keep up your spirits, my love, there still is happiness in store for you : Mr. Edwards, with your sisters, will shortly be in town, when you will again be re-established, and be rendered comfortable in the affectionate society of your amiable sisters.'* Thus, in a CASUALTIES. 133 Strain of generous sympathy, Mrs. Del- rymple strove to dissipate the pangs of reflection that struggled in her bosom. " Ah, my dear madam," rejoined Sa- bina, " my guardian is yet ignorant of my recent sufferings, and I fear he never will forgive me." — " What circum- stance can have happened, Sabina, more terrible than that which I have already heard ?" continued Mrs. Delrymple. With trembling reluctance, Sabina re- lated her melancholy story : her friend listened with silent attention until she reached that part of it in which she v/as conveyed to prison. " How," replied Mrs. Delrymple, " have you been in a prison? And are there then such cha- racters existing in a civilized country ? such specious villainy ? such plausibility- assumed under false titles to prey upon 134" CASUALTIES. the peace of credulous unsuspecting youth? Oh, my Sabma, xvJio^ m this depraved arid vicious age, can guard against calamity, conspiraaj^ plunder ; nay, even assassination f and every vice that can debase mankind seems indis- criminately to flourish in their career. Your entry into life, my dear, has been chequered with misfortune ; an unto- ward fate has pursued you ; yet you have a consolation, Sabina, which the guilty mind can never enjoy, conscious innocence, and inward satisfaction. Every step you have pursued, my dear girl, has been well intended : no blame can attach to you ; and assure yourself, that nothing shall be omitted on my part to reconcile your guardian, should he in any point of view condemn you for what is past.'* CASUALTIES. 135 A loud rap at the door put an end to the conversation; " Excuse me, Sabi- na," continued she, " I must now pay my respects to the baron." In the course of a few days, agreeable to Mrs. Dehymple's information, Mr. Edwards, with Mary and Eliza Mel- ford, arrived in town. The good old gentleman conceivino; it a tribute of gratitude due to the friend of Sabina, first to pay his respects to Mrs. Delrym- ple, called in Queen-square, on his way to Sabina's lodgings, where he purposed leaving her sisters, being, as yet, igno- rant of the fate of his ward. Just as the hackney-coachman was knocking at the door, Mrs. Delrymple and Sabina approached; having, that morning, been in pursuit of a house. The three sis- ters instantly reconnoitered each other. 136 CASUALTIES. It would be ill vain to attempt a deli- neation of features at this moment: it was like the rays of sudden light, diffus- ing beauty and animation upon every object. After an absence of some con- siderable time from those we dearly love, and the chords of sympathy having been long restricted, they vibrate on the senses, act with double force, whea relaxed, and, the soul gently suppurates 1 into tenderness and affection. Durinoj this interesting scene between the orphan sisters, Mrs. Delrymple re- quested Mr. Edwards would- retire, with her, to another apartment; whea. she seized the opportunity of communi- cating to that gentleman such part of Sabina's narrative, as she judged was .J expedient to meet his ear ; adding-, that she had seen a house, sitijated in Jer- CASUALTIES. 137 myii- Street, which she thought ex- tremely well calculated for Miss Mel- ford's business. Mr. Edwards, who was little acquainted with the metropolis, submitted the regulation of the whole plan to the discretion of Mrs. Delrym- ple, who had already so generously em- barked in the gentle office of friendship ; and as the baron and his kinsman had, prior to the arrival of Mr. Edwards, left her house, she insisted that he should consider it as his home, during his stay in London. He accepted her polite invitation; and, from that hour, preparations for the establishment of Sabina commenced ; and in less than a week, every thing was finally arranged, to the mutual satisfaction of all parties ; and our heroine, accompanied by her sisters, took possession of her new 138 CASUALTIES. abode, where she had been settled but a few days, when she was called upon to own the different articles of wcarinsr- apparel she had been robbed of, belong- ing to several ladies; all of which, she had the inexpressible pleasure to behold, were in a state of preservation : but the fifty pounds were irrecoverably lost. That, however, she had little occasion to lament, as the liberality of her friends very soon re-imbursed the loss she had sustained. Being now re-united to her sisters, her heart felt possessed of trea- sures that compensated all her suffer- ings. The most flattering prospects awaited her on this (though scarcely twenty years of age) her third entrance into business, and every thing wore the appearance of permanent prosperity; yet she was not truly happy. — A me- CASUALTIES. 139 lancholy retrospect of the unfortunate Fanny occupied much of her thoughts: for a heart capable of feeHng tenderly for the distresses of others, is often sub- jected to the most acute pain. She related to her sisters the story of this hapless girl. " Though," said she, " it does not seem within the limits of pro- bability, that I shall ever be capable of effecting her liberty, still, I trust, that the gentle offices of friendship may, in some measure, alleviate her sor- rows: I will go to-morrow,'* continued ^ she, " and take her some nourishment; for her health appears dechning very fast." Sabina had not intimated any thing to Mrs. Delrymple, concerning this affecting circumstance. She well knew that the beneficient heart of her friend was ever exquisitely aiive to the 140 CASUALTIES. tender feelings of humanity: her own misfortunes, she thought,, had suffi- ciently exercised every nerve of sensi- bility; wherefore, then, should she give an additional wound to her compas- sionate bosom. The following morn- ing, agreeable to her proposal, she set out to visit the unhappy girl. When she had nearly reached the prison doors, she was met by the keeper, who cordially took her hand, and expressed himself happy to see her. " Miss Melford," said he, '' you are come very oppor- tunely; for the unfortunate young wo- . man, whose hard destiny you so patheti- cally lamented to me, is, this morning, released from bondage, by the death of her merciless creditor; but I fear the wretched girl has no refuge but a parish." " Oh, where is she?" ex- CASUALTIES. 141 claimed Sabina, " I will instantly fly to her relief/* " She is, at present, where you left her, madam," replied he. " Then excuse me, sir," said Sabina, *' I shall step and speak to her, with your leave." " Do so, Miss Melford," returned he, " you may possibly sug- gest some mode of serving the poor friendless girl." Sabina hastened to Fanny, whom she found in tears; but her countenance wore a brighter aspect on the approach of the former. " Do not weep, Fanny," said Sabnia, " but rejoice that death has, at last, van- quished your cruel enemy; and the prospect of happier days now appears to welcome you to society." " Oh, ma- dam," she replied, " what allurement has the world for me? What pleasure can I anticipate by regaining my liberty ? 142 CASUALTIES. A poor miserable orphan, as I am ; desti- tute of o;arments even to cover mv ema- ciated limbs; without a friend to whom I can fly for shelter from the contempt of an unpitying world ; penury and chill want must be my ruthless companions. Alas! I only wish for a poor corner, •where I may lay down my weary head, and close my eyes in peace for ever." " Draw not such a portrait of wretch- edness," said Sabina, *^ but with sweet hope, look forward to many, many years of joy and comfort." And ten- derly embracing her, she continued, " Yes, injured Fanny, my house shall be your home; my bosom the asylum of your sorrows: I will go and fetch you such apparel as will be necessary for you to appear in without th^e' wretched doors: farewel, I will be 2 CASUALTIESr. 143 with you again immediately.'' She then darted out of the room, leaving the astonished Fannv; whose feelino;s of over-flowing gratitude, words would be inadequate to pourtray. Sabina soon returned, and furnished the poor girl with a neat and decent suit of clothes; then, with a sensation of generous delight, she led her forth to a coach which was waiting at the prison gates, to convey her from that mansion of wretchedness, wherein she had long suffered immeasureable woes. The sudden transition, and unex- pected instance of friendship in our heroine, had nearly overcome the child of misfortune, towards whom it was exhibited: impaired, as was her health and strength, her shattered nerves al- most sunk under the pressure of extreme gratitude. 14fi^ CASUALTIES. On their arrival at Sabiiia s house, Marv and Ehza Melfbrd met them at the door, and gave the stranger a cor- dial welcome. These amiable sisters strove to remove from the mind of Fanny the weight of obligation which seemed to distress her. In a few days she began to recover her health and spi- rits, sufficient to make herself useful in* the work-room; and the grateful girl became perfectly happy, in perceiving that her endeavours would make some restitution for the boundless obligation she was under to her worthy benefac- tress. A few weeks had cemented that sort of friendship between these lovely females, that they actually idolized each other. Sabina now began to feel it a duty which she owed to her friend Mrs. Del- CASUALTIES^ 145 rymple, to communicate this circum- stance to her, assured that she would rather applaud the action than condemn it, particularly as each hour's experi- ence was a convincing proof that Fanny possessed every virtue that adorns the human heart. One morning Mrs. Delrymple, (as she frequently did) called upon Sabina ; and going without ceremony to the apartment where they were all at work; and after chatting for a few minutes^ withdrew, desiring to speak w^ith Sa- bina below. They retired to the par- lour. " My dear Sabina," said Mrs. Deh'vmple, " Where did you meet with that young person I saw at work ? She is the counterpart of yourself — in per- sonal charms I mean, my love : I think her one of the loveliest girls I ever be- VOL. I. K 14:6 CASUALTIES* held." This afforded Sabina an oppor- tunity she had some days sought for ; and, without hesitation, disclosed to her every circumstance of their meeting in prison ; at the same time presenting her with Fanny's narrative. Mrs. Delrym- ple, with a placid sweetness in her coun- tenance, gazed for a few minutes on Sabina ; and, with a tear of sympathy standing in her eye, took Sabina's hand. ** O thou uncommon excellence ! dear af- fectionate girl !"*said she, " Such an ex* cmplary instance of tenderness and com* passion, adds distinguished lustre to your inestimable virtues. Yes, Sabina, I am highly charmed with your munificence ! May you never lack the ability to exer- cise your pious and humane propensi- ties." CASUALTIES. 147 " O my dear friend !" returned Sa* bina, " if my conduct meets your ap- probation on so light a sketch of her sorrows, what will be your sensations when you have perused her sad story ? all of which I leave for your private meditation." Mrs. Delrymple now took her leave, and Sabina proceeded to work. Several ladies called in the course of the day to give orders for ball-dresses for the en- suing week ; and in the evening Sabina was surprised by Mrs. Delrymple's re- turn, accompanied by a gentleman, whom she introduced as Baron Van Wei-- kiistorff'. It immediately occurred to Sabina, that he was the gentleman who paid his addresses to her friend, Mrs. Delrymple evinced much agitation on her entrance, the cause of which Sa- H '2 l4fe CASUALTIES. bina could not account for : sKe fixed her eyes on Fanny ; and, drawing a chair by her side, " My dear young lady," said she, " I have, by Miss Mel- ford, been favoured with the perusal of your unhappy narrative : it interests me more than you can imagine." During this, the baron had eii- tered into conversation with the three sisters, and making some remarks on a irery elegant dress which they were finishing. Mrs. Delrymple continued asking Fanny several questions relative to her- self, v/hen, suddenly, the countenance of the latter changed to a deadly pale. ," You are unwell!" said Mrs. Del- rymple : " I shall soon be better, ma- dam," replied Fanny. " A loved idea CLASUALTIES. 149 darted across my mind ; but it avails not !" sighed she. " What was it, Fanny :" asked Mrs. Deh'ymple. " That gentleman is not of England, madam ?" rejoined she. " He is not," answered Mrs. DeU rymple. " Alas, madam !" said she ; " had I ever been so blest as to have known a father ! I have been taught to understand that he was a foreigner.'* " So your narrative intimates. Pr-Rv, my love, what was the name of your nurse ?" " Inglesfield, madam," was the an- swer. ' At that moment the baron started from his seat. " Did I not hear the uame of Inglesfield ?** said he, H 3 150 CASUALTIES. eftt to this extraordinary incident, CASUALTIES* 157 Mrs. Cookson called on Sabina, accom- panied by a Mrs. Alton, a young widow just arrived from Bengal. " Miss Mel- ford,*' said Mrs. Cookson, " I have re- commended you to this lady, who wishes to have some dresses of the newest fashion made up immediately. Have you any knowledge of Mrs. Alton, my dear? I understand that ye were bred up within a few miles of each other." " I am a total stranger to the name of Alton, madam,'* replied Sabina ; " yet I think I have some recoHection of the lady's face. Were you not edu- cated at York, madam?"—*' I was," answered she, with a smile. " Do you not remember the nam.e of Onslow ? " I do, indeed. You then are, my dear Sophia, companion of my happier days," sighed she. 15-8 ' ' CASUALTIES. ' " The same; and, believe me, my dear Miss Melford, I am sincerely re- joiced at meeting with my early friend so unexpectedly, after an absence of eight years from my native country." The conversation which followed re- vived in the breast of Sabina the painful recollection of departed friends. Mrs. Cookson perceived the struggle, and waved the subject. "Come, Mrs. Alton," said she, " You must take another opportunity of calling upon Miss Melford: you know we have a visit to pay this morning in Portland- place. Mrs. Wentworth will feel her- self highly offended if you do not pay her your first respects on your arrival in England. Mr. Wentworth, I under- stand, is returned^ from Bath \\\ a state CASUALTIES. 159 of convalescence." " I am happy to hear it," said Mrs. x^lton, " when the dear old gentleman left Benga], his health was very precarious." During this topic, Sabina was silent ; she strove to conceal the sensations with which her bosom was agitated. The ladies now took their leave, and proceed- ed to pay their intended visit. When the usual compliments, at meeting, were over, Mrs. Alton jocosely related to Mrs. Wentvvorth, the singu- lar instance of meeting with an old school-fellow in the capacity of a man- tua-maker. " Miss Melford," continued she, " is really a charmnng young wo- man," " and an unfortunate one," re- joined Mrs. Wentworth. " She is, in- deed," added Mrs. Cookson: " she has met with the most unmerited persecu- 160 CASUALTIES. tions." " Pray, madam," said Mr* Wentworth, " do you know the origin of the young person you have been mentioning? I am somewhat interested in that name." " She is an orphan," replied Mrs. Cookson, " and was brought up in Yorkshire." " Enough, madam," aaid he. Mrs. Wentworth then entered into the detail of Sabina's house being burnt, and her subsequent calamities. Mr. Wentworth arose from his seat, \yal^pd hastily across the floor, applied his handkerchief to his eyes, " Poor girl," sighed he, and quitted the room. "Oh! the dear, dear, good rnan," said Mrs. Alton, " how accutely he feels for the sufferings of his fellow- creatures." CASUALTIES. 161 " There is something labouring in his breast, which he cares not to reveal," said Mrs. Wentworth; for I remember, oa our arrival in England, how greatly he lamented his inability to visit York- shire, when his physician advised him to go to Bath immediately. I never urged him on the subject, fearful that he might deem me guilty of impertinent curiosity : and, as I do not wish to pry into any concerns which wear the ap- pearance of mystery, I shall continue to be silent on the matter." The entrance of young Mr. Wentworth closed the conversation, and the ladies took their leave. The following morning Mr. Went- worth ordered the carriage. ^' I am goin^ into the citv, my dear," said he 162 CASUALTIES. to his wife; " if you have any visits to make that way, I can set you down." '^No," said Mrs. Wentworth, " but with your leave, I will accompany you, as I intended calling to-day at my silk- mercer's, upon Ludgate-hill ; and, on my return, I have some orders to give my mantua-maker.** Breakfast being over, tliey "stepped into the carriage, and drove towards the city. Mr. Wentworth was particu- larly grave and thoughtful. When the carriage stopped in Jermyn- street, at Miss Melford's house; " You will not tarry long, my dear," said he, " I will wait your return." Mrs. Wentworth alighted and entered the house; in a few minutes she came back, attended bj^ Sabina; the old gen- CASUALTIES. 163 tlemaa viewed her with a penetrative scrutiny; Mrs. Wentworth seated her- self in the carriage, and they drove oiF. Sabina's return to the work-room alarmed her sisters. " What has hap- pened to distress you, Sabina," said Eliza Melford. " Nothing of moment, my love," answered she; a mere vision- ary idea." In a few days Mr. Edwards arrived. He informed them, that a circumstance of the greatest importance to their fu- ture welfare would oblige them to re- linquish business, and return into York- shire. " I have," said Mr. Edwards, " received a letter very unlooked-for, yet which gives me infinite pleasure, as I find that the offspring of a worthy man is not forgotten. '' This evening, my good girls," continued he, " you will I64f CASUALTIES. have the fehcity of embracing a venera- ble man, who is nearly allied to you." Sabina, clasping her hands together, exclaimed, " Then my suspicions were prophetic; the name of Wentworth I remembered to have heard when I was quite a child," " True, my dear," re- sumed Mr. Edwards ; but the name has long been a stranger to this country, from a supposition th^t he was dead. Heaven be praised, he yet lives! and those he left behind him, I am rejoiced to learn, still lives in his memory. I must now leave you for a few hours^ my dear young friends ; business of im- portance calls me hence, I shall see you again in the evening; until then, farewel." Accordingly, in the evening, Mr. Edwatrds returned, accompanied by Mr. CASUALTIES. 165 / Wentworth, who, when he beheld the three lovely girls, engaged Industriously at their occupation, turned to Mr. Ed- wards, " This is a glorious sight,'* said he, with emphasis. " I thank you, my good friend ; you have proved yourself worthy the sacred trust, which, up- wards of forty years ago, I imposed upon you." Sabina and her sisters arose from their seats; Mr. Wentworth gazed at them with admiring tenderness. " My dear children," said he, " in me you behold your grandsire; from this mo- ment I proclaim you to the world as the beloved oiFspring of my dear departed son, independent of its favors or its frov/ns." These arniable girls shed a tear of filial affection ; the tear was reciprocal ; 160 ' CASUALTIES. for the big drop rolled down the fur- rowed, cheek of Mr. Wentworth. " I have given instructions to your worthy guardian," resumed he, " to fit up the old family mansion-house for your re- ception, to which I shall annex a pro- per establishment for you and your sisters; your brother I shall place in a banking-house in which I am con- cerned." " I purpose purchasing a seat in Yorkshire, which is now upon sale, for the country residence of my legiti- mate son. My wife is yet ignorant of the relationship I bear to you; when she is made acquainted with the circum- stance, she will heartily participate in the happiness I now enjoy: for she pos- sesses a soul above those vulgar preju- dices which influence narrow minds." CASUALTIES. IGI " Now, Miss Melford," said Mr. Ed- wards, " 1 would advise you to speedily finish such business as you may have In hand; mean time, I shall settle with the landlord of your house; no doubt he will soon find a tenant: we will then prepare for our journey into the north." " This end once accomplished, my friend," said Mr. Wentworth, " I shall console myself in the evening of my days, conscious of having acted as be- comes a christian, and meet the last dissolving stroke of fate with resigna- tion." Sabina poured out her thanks to her new-discovered relative, as did her sis- ters ; she felt more than she was able to describe. The gentlemen having arrangements to make, necessary for the 168 - casualties/ intended establishment, took an affec- tionate, leave of the young ladies. They, were no sooner gone, than the sisters naturally began to expatiate on the won- derful event which had restored to them a parental blessing. They were shortly interupted by the arrival of Mrs. Del» rymple and Fanny. In that lady's bosom Sabina could, without reserve, deposit the inmost secret of her heart ; she hesi- tated not a moment to acquaint her with all that had passed. Mrs. Del- rymple congratulated her on the great acquisition she had met with to her future happiness. '* And it affords me,'* added she, " pecuUar satisfaction at this time, Sabina, for I came this evening to inform you that, in a few weeks, I shall be? united to the Baron; after Wfiith, v,tc shall leave the kinsrdom; CASUALTIES. 1^^ and to know that you are under the pro- tection of so worthy a relation, will make me truly happy. But you appear grave, my dear." " How,' returned Sabina, " can I view the approach of that moment which deprives m.e of so valuable a friend as you, my dear madam, without a pang of regret? Is it not to your unwearied goodness that I owe all the happiness I now possess ?" " No, my dear," replied Mrs, Del- rymple, " it is to your own exemplary- virtues, and the wise decrer^j of omnipo- tence, that you are indebted: but come, we will drop this subject." " Have you heard from Captain Aubery lately? x^re you still the inexorable fair you were a twelvemonth ago?" VOL. I, I 170 CASUALTIES. *' I have received a letter, madam/* answered Sabina; a sweet blush, which accompanied the confession, spoke the feelings of her heart. " I shall ever, madam," continued she, " revere the | memory of Captain Aubery with the sincerest sentiments of gratitude" " Is that all, my dear?" resumed Mrs. Del- rymple; " but gratitude, pity, and esteem, are nearly allied to love. The early wanderings of the heart are some- times misinterpreted; but as the judg- ment slowly ripens, the tender passions implanted in the bosom i-apidly shoot forth to full bloom, and hasten to maturity." Sabina felt conviction in this observa- tion, smiled, and waved the subject* CASUALTIES. 171. A general conversation ensued, until a late hour obliged them to part for the night. Many days were wholly engrossed by business; the necessary preparations for their departure began to take place; a day seldom passed during that time^ uuc ivir. \Ventworth and Mr. Edwards paid them a visit. Mrs. Wentworth, the moment that she was made acquainted with the alliance, hastened to Jermyn - street, and, with maternal tenderness, assured the amiable sisters of her unalterable esteem. " I once," continued she, " was blessed with a lovely daughter; the striking resemblance which you, Miss Melford, bear to her, occasioned I 2 172 CASUALTIES, me some very severe pangs on my first knowledge of you." "Oh! could I, at that time, have formed the most distant idea of the consanguinity which sub- sisted, I should have fostered you in my bosom, and saved you from the cruel "iicissitudes of adverse fate, which have hitherto beset you : but enough or tnar, it is past, and brighter days appear," Sabina's heart swelled with gratitude and filial aftection; it fluttered at her lips, and prevented articulation; she fell on her knees; her sisters followed her example; Mrs. Wentworth raised and embraced them: she wiped away the starting tear, and thus resumed, " I purpose accompanying you into York- shire^ My son will shortly be united CASUALTIES, lIS to a young lady of birth and splendid connections; and, in order to avoid the etiquette which is always observed in. fashionable circles, I wish to retire to the country. At my time of life, the fatigue of visiting and receiving com- pany Is what I wish to shun. In the society of you and your sisters, I shall pass my hours in a sort of ease and tran- quillity suited to my years and disposi- tion. Not that I m.ean, my dears, to deprive you of such recreations and amusements as are congenial, to youth;, by no means: we shall form our little j5arties of pleasure agreable to a country ^residence, divested of ceremony, pa- rade, or magnificence. Mrs. Alton, whom, I understand, was known to I 3 11"^ CASUALTIES. you at an early period of life, is going to pay a visit to her parents in York- shire; she is a charming lively wonnan, and will, doubtless, prove a great ac- quisition to our society. In short, I anticipate a world of happiness from this unforeseen and truly fortunate discovery." *^ Oh, madam," said Sabina, " your amiable condescension so greatly ex- ceeds what me or 7717/ sisters could ever have expected or aspired to, that words are inadequate to express our high sense of obligation. The flattering portrait of .felicity which you have drawn in such glowing colours, animates my heart, and makes it overflow with gra- titude. It will ever be my highest am- CASUALTIES. 175 bltion, and the study of my future life, to merit your good opinion.'* " I sincerely believe . a, my dear,*' returned Mrs. Wentworth ; " to-morrow morning I shall take you with me a shopping, as you must, previous to your leaving London, make an addition to your wardrobe." A loud rap at the door now obliged Sabina to withdraw, which put an end to the conversation; she presently re- turned, accompanied by Mrs. Alton, who, in her usual strain of vivacity, took Sabina by the hand, and addressing her- self to Mrs. Wentworth, " My dear madam, I am rejoiced to learn that our little mantua-maker here, is become one of us. You shall actually leave off making gowns, Miss Melford, and go 11 6 CASUALTIES. with me into Yorkshire: shan't she, madam?" " That is the plan already adopted, Mrs. Alton,'* said Mrs. Wentworth, *' and I promise myself the pleasure of making one of the party." " That is a pleasure, madam," re- turned Mrs. Alton, " that I could not expect at so particular a crisis." " You allude, I suppose, to the nuptials of my son, madam; it is that very circum- stance which prompts me to retirement. i certainly shall be present at the cere- mony," continued this venerable lady, " and then pul-pose leaving the happy pair to encounter the subsequent parade amongst their young friends : they can dispense with the Company of an old CASUALTIES. 177 woman." " I am delighted at the occa- sion, madam," said Mrs. Alton; " their loss will be my gain; your society will be a treasure to my beloved parents, and improvement to me and my young friends; but I must take mv leave. — For von mn^f Vtt^t"' •~~'- ^ — " '>^.««-»*>^-./a4 she, turning to Mrs. Wentworth, " that I am going to make love to Mr. Camp- bell this morning, at the particular request of his sister, your daughter-in- law elect: would you believe that the poor, melancholy, moping creature has intimated his intention of going to Bath, previous to his sister's marriage ? It is most astonishing that so young a man should shun those scenes of gaiety and mirth which the generality of his sex pursue with avidity." 178 CASUALITIES, " Your embassy, Mrs. Alton, I have no doubt will be crowned with success," said Mrs. Wentworth. The ladies now took their leave, and the day was closed by a parting viBit from Mr. Edwards, who was to leave JLoiidon that f^.vfinmoc. in order to make some arrangements necessary for the reception of Mrs. Wentworth and her Proteges. In the course of a week, Mrs. Del- rymple's marriage with the Baron took place. The three Miss Melford's were present at the nuptials, which were solemnized with privacy; there being only one gentleman, a friend of the Baron's, Fanny, and the above young ladies, present on the occasion. The CASUALTIES. 179 day was celebrated at Richmond; and it being the last which Sabina and her sisters would have an opportunity of pas- sing with their beloved friends, prior to their leaving London, Fanny eagerly seized the first moment that offered to pour out the feelings of her grateful soul to Sabina. " My dear Miss Melford! my more than sister I" said she, a tear glistening in her languid eye; " I can^ " not endure the idea of parting from you.; perhaps to meet no more ! it really makes me wretched." " O, yes, my dear girl," replied Sabina, with a forced gaiety, " we shall meet again, doubt not. The secrets recorded in the vo- luminous book of fate, we are not per- mitted to descry; but something whis- 189 CASUALTIES, pers to my mind, that there stands registered in those occult, and yet unre- vealed pages, many happy events, that will render to us both ample tribute for all our sorrows past." These lovely girls were thus exchang- ing their mutual professions of friend- ship, when Mrs. Delrymple, now Baroness Van Wellenstorff, discovered them seated in an alcove in the garden. " Hey-day, ladies !" exclaimed she', ** why this secret retreat, and these swollen eyes ?" " My dear madam," ^ replied Sabina, " pardon this little weakness; we were only lamenting the separation which is so soon to take place." " Ah, my dear girls," said the Baroiiess, " how prone is human na« CASUALTIES. 181 ture to repine; the seeds of discontent are sown in our hearts: for when indul- gent heaven, in pity to our sufferings, kindly removes from us a load of anguish, still we murmer at imaginary troubles. This propitious morn has witnessed my union with the best of men, his every wish is centered in mind and his daughter's happiness : yet, my dear girls^ under all these prospects of permanent felicity, there are moments, when I search the secret recesses of my heart, I still find rankling there a fester- ing wound, which no specific can ever heal: but of that no more. I will obli^ terate reflection, and shall expect, la- dies, that you will do the same.'* The Baroness then taking a hand of each, VOL. I. K 182 CASUALTIES* they returned to the house; and the day was concluded with cheerfulness. As the time was near at hand^ when the Baron and his family were to em- bark for Holland^ they took a jfinal leave of the young ladies that evening. Mr. Wentworth, junior, and Miss Campbell were, in a few days, married by special licence; after which, the elder Mrs. Wentworth, Sabina, and her sisters, set off for Yorkshire, where we wijll leave them for the present, and make some enqiiiries into the fate of the long-neglected Aubery* KNB OF VOL, 1. I.iwi9and RosiNy Printers, FiUraoitar*foir« / UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOI9-URBANA 3 0112 045859961