A bloom was spread over the morning sky. A soft golden light
bathed with its fresh beam the bosom of the valley, except
where a delicate haze, rather than a mist, still partially
lingered over the river, which yet occasionally gleamed and
sparkled in the sunshine. A sort of shadowy lustre suffused
the landscape, which, though distinct, was mitigated in all
its features—the distant woods, the clumps of tall trees that
rose about the old grey bridge, the cottage chimneys that sent
their smoke into the blue still air, amid their clustering
orchards and garden of flowers and herbs.
Ah! what is there so fresh and joyous as a summer morn! That
spring time of the day, when the brain is bright, and the
heart is brave; the season of daring and of hope; the
renovating hour!
Came forth from his cottage room the brother of Lord Marney, to feel the vigorous bliss of life amid sunshiny gardens and the voices of bees and birds.
"Ah! this is delicious!" he felt. "This is existence! Thank
God I am here; that I have quitted for ever that formal and
heartless Marney. Were it not for my mother, I would remain
Mr Franklin for ever. Would I were indeed a journalist; provided I always had a mission to the vale of Mowbray. Or anything, so that I were ever here. As companions, independent of everything else, they are superior to any that I have been used to. Why do these persons interest me? They feel and they think: two habits that have quite gone out of fashion, if ever they existed, among my friends. And that polish of manners, that studied and factitious refinement, which is to compensate for the heartlessness or the stupidity we are doomed to—is my host of last night deficient in that refinement? If he do want our conventional discipline, he has a native breeding which far excels it. I observe no word or action which is not prompted by that fine feeling which is the sure source of good taste. This Gerard appears to me a real genuine man; full of knowledge worked out by his own head; with large yet wholesome sympathies; and a deuced deal better educated than Lord de Mowbray or my brother—and they do occasionally turn over a book, which is not the habit of our set.
"And his daughter—ay, his daughter! There is something
almost sublime about that young girl, yet strangely sweet
withal; a tone so lofty combined with such simplicity is very
rare. For there is no affectation of enthusiasm about her; nothing exaggerated, nothing rhapsodical. Her dark eyes and lustrous face, and the solemn sweetness of her thrilling voice—they haunt me; they have haunted me from the first moment I encountered her like a spirit amid the ruins of our abbey. And I am one of 'the family of sacrilege.' If she knew that! And I am one of the conquering class she denounces. If also she knew that! Ah! there is much to know! Above all—the future. Away! the tree of knowledge is the tree of death. I will have no thought that is not as bright and lovely as this morn."
He went forth from his little garden, and strolled along the
road in the direction of the cottage of Gerard, which was
about three quarters of a mile distant. You might see almost
as far; the sunshiny road a little winding and rising a very
slight ascent. The cottage itself was hid by its trees. While Egremont was still musing of one who lived under that roof, he beheld in the distance Sybil.
She was springing along with a quick and airy step. Her black
dress displayed her undulating and elastic figure. Her little
foot bounded from the earth with a merry air. A long rosary
hung at her side; and her head was partly covered with a hood
which descended just over her shoulders. She seemed gay, for
Harold kept running before her with a frolicsome air, and then
returning to his mistress, danced about her, and almost
overpowered her with his gambols.
"I salute thee, holy sister," said Egremont.
"Oh! is not this a merry morn!" she exclaimed with a bright
and happy face.
"I feel it as you. And whither do you go?"
"I go to the convent; I pay my first visit to our Superior
since I left them."
"Not very long ago," said Egremont, with a smile, and turning
with her.
"It seems so," said Sybil.