In the
first place, it was quite clear that he shrank from the horrors of
martyrdom; and, indeed, to escape any bodily inconvenience, was
perfectly willing to put up with any amount of degradation or
humiliation that he could be subjected to; and that was, to the
apprehension of Mrs. Oakley, a great departure from what a saint ought
to be. Then again, her faith in the fact that Mr. Lupin was such a
chosen morsel as he had represented himself, was shaken from the
circumstance that no miracle in the shape of a judgment had taken place
to save him from the malevolence of Big Ben, the beef-eater; so that,
taking one thing in connexion with another, Mrs. Oakley was not near so
religious a character after that evening as she had been before it, and
that was something gained. Then circumstances soon occurred, of which
the reader will very shortly be fully aware, which were calculated to
awaken all the feelings of Mrs. Oakley, if she had really any feelings
to awaken, and to force her to make common cause with her husband in an
affair that touched him to the very soul, and did succeed in awakening
some feelings in her heart that had lain dormant for a long time, but
which were still far from being completely destroyed. These
circumstances were closely connected with the fate of one in whom we
hope, that by this time, the reader has taken a deep and kindly
interest--we mean Johanna--that young and beautiful, and gentle,
creature, who seemed to have been created with all the capacity to be so
very happy, and yet whose fate had become so clouded by misfortune, and
who appears now to be doomed through her best affections to suffer so
great an amount of sorrow, and to go through so many sad difficulties. Alas, poor Johanna Oakley! Better had you loved some one of less
aspiring feelings, and of less ardent imagination, than he possessed to
whom you have given your heart's young affections. It is true that Mark
Ingestrie possessed genius, and perhaps it was the glorious light that
hovers around that fatal gift which prompted you to love him. But genius
is not only a blight and a desolation to its possessor, but it is so to
all who are bound to the gifted being by the ties of fond affection. It
brings with it that unhappy restlessness of intellect which is ever
straining after the unattainable, and which is never content to know the
end and ultimatum of earthly hopes and wishes; no, the whole life of
such persons is spent in one long struggle for a fancied happiness,
which like the ignis-fatuus of the swamp glitters but to betray those
who trust to its delusive and flickering beams. CHAPTER XIII. JOHANNA'S INTERVIEW WITH ARABELLA WILMOT, AND THE ADVICE. Alas! poor Johanna, thou hast chosen but an indifferent confidante in
the person of that young and inexperienced girl to whom it seems good to
thee to impart thy griefs. Not for one moment do we mean to say, that
the young creature to whom the spectacle-maker's daughter made up her
mind to unbosom herself, was not all that any one could wish as regards
honour, goodness, and friendship. But she was one of those creatures who
yet look upon the world as a fresh green garden, and had not yet lost
that romance of existence which the world and its ways soon banish from
the breasts of all. She was young, even almost to girlhood, and having
been the idol of her family circle, she knew just about as little of the
great world as a child. But while we cannot but to some extent regret
that Johanna should have chosen such a confidant and admirer, we with
feelings of great freshness and pleasure proceed to accompany her to
that young girl's house. Now, a visit from Johanna Oakley to the Wilmots
was not so rare a thing, that it should excite any unusual surprise, but
in this case it did excite unusual pleasure, because they had not been
there for some time. And the reason that she had not, may well be found
in the peculiar circumstances that had for a considerable period
environed her. She had a secret to keep which, although it might not
proclaim what it was most legibly upon her countenance, yet proclaimed
that it had an existence, and as she had not made Arabella a confidant,
she dreaded the other's friendly questions of the young creature. It may
seem surprising that Johanna Oakley had kept from one whom she so much
esteemed, and with whom she had made such a friendship, the secret of
her affections; but that must be accounted for by a difference of ages
between them to a sufficient extent in that early period of life to show
itself palpably. That difference was not quite two years, but when we
likewise state, that Arabella was of that small, delicate style of
beauty, which makes her look like a child, when even upon the very verge
of womanhood, we shall not be surprised that the girl of seventeen
hesitated to confide a secret of the heart to what seemed but a
beautiful child. The last year, however, had made a great difference in
the appearance of Arabella, for, although she still looked a year or so
younger than she really was, a more staid and thoughtful expression had
come over her face, and she no longer presented, at times when she
laughed, that child-like expression, which had been as remarkable in her
as it was delightful. She was as different looking from Johanna as she
could be, for whereas Johanna's hair was of a rich and glossy brown, so
nearly allied to black that it was commonly called such; the long waving
ringlets that shaded the sweet countenance of Arabella Wilmot were like
amber silk blended to a pale beauty. Her eyes were nearly blue, and not
that pale grey, which courtesy calls of that celestial colour, and their
long, fringing lashes hung upon a cheek of the most delicate and
exquisite hue that nature could produce. Such was the young, loveable,
and amiable creature who had made one of those girlish friendships with
Johanna Oakley that, when they do endure beyond the period of almost
mere childhood, endure for ever, and become one among the most dear and
cherished sensations of the heart. The acquaintance had commenced at
school, and might have been of that evanescent character of so many
school friendships, which, in after life, are scarcely so much
remembered as the most dim visions of a dream; but it happened that they
were congenial spirits, which, let them be thrown together under any
circumstances whatever, would have come together with a perfect and a
most endearing confidence in each other's affections. That they were
school companions was the mere accident that brought them together, and
not the cause of their friendship. Such, then, was the being to whom
Johanna Oakley looked for counsel and assistance; and notwithstanding
all that we have said respecting the likelihood of that counsel being of
an inactive and girlish character, we cannot withhold our meed of
approbation to Johanna, that she had selected one so much in every way
worthy of her honest esteem.