eart which Annie had first inflicted, but
which the conduct of Lilla had succeeded in soothing sufficiently to bid
her hope it would in time be healed. The ill-directed young man had
squandered away the whole of his mother's fortune, and behaved in a
manner that rendered expulsion inevitable. He chose to join the army,
and, with a painfully foreboding heart, his father procured him a
commission in a regiment bound for Ireland, hoping he would be exposed
to fewer temptations there than did he remain in England.
Lady Helen, as her health continued to decline, felt conscience becoming
more and more upbraiding, its voice would not be stilled. She had known
her duty as a mother; she had seen it beautifully portrayed before her
in Mrs. Hamilton, but she had neglected its performance, and her
chastisement she felt had come. Annie's conduct she had borne, she had
forgiven her, scarcely appearing conscious of the danger her daughter
had escaped; but Cecil was her darling, and his disgrace came upon her
as a thunderbolt, drawing the veil from her eyes, with startling and
bewildering light. She had concealed his childish faults, she had petted
him in every whim, encouraged him in every folly in his youth; to hide
his faults from a severe but not too harsh a judge, she had lowered
herself in the eyes of her husband, and achieved no good. Cecil was
expelled, disgracefully expelled, and the wretched mother, as she
contrasted his college life with that of the young Hamiltons, felt she
had been the cause; she had led him on by the flowery paths of
indulgence to shame and ruin. He came not near her; he joined his
regiment, and left England, without bidding her farewell, and she felt
she should never see him more. From that hour she sunk; disease
increased, and though she still lingered, and months passed, and there
was no change for the worse, yet still both Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton felt
that death was written on her brow, that, however he might loiter on his
way, his destined victim would never again feel the blessedness of
health; and all their efforts were now directed in soothing the
affliction of Grahame, and lead him to console by tenderness the
remaining period of his unhappy wife's existence. They imparted not to
him their fears, but they rested not till their desire was obtained, and
Lady Helen could feel she was not only forgiven but still beloved, and
would be sincerely mourned, both by her husband and Lilla, in whom she
had al
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