The Project Gutenberg eBook, Amy Herbert, by Elizabeth Sewell

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Title: Amy Herbert

Author: Elizabeth Sewell

Release Date: May 18, 2011 [eBook #36156]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMY HERBERT***

Elizabeth Sewell (1815-1906), Amy Herbert (1844), 1886 edition

Produced by Daniel FROMONT

AMY HERBERT

BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON

AMY HERBERT

BY

ELIZABETH M. SEWELL

Why should we fear Youth's draught of joy,
If pure, would sparkle less?
Why should the cup the sooner cloy
Which God Hath deign'd to bless?

CHRISTIAN YEAR.

NEW EDITION

LONDON

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

1886

AMY HERBERT.

CHAPTER I.

In a remote picturesque village, on the borders of one of the few remaining forests in England, was situated the home of Amy Herbert. It was a lovely cottage, with a thatched roof and latticed windows, covered with creepers and roses, and standing upon a smooth velvet lawn, which gently sloped to the edge of a clear stream, that flowed sparkling along at the bottom of the garden. A small but very beautiful pleasure-ground divided it from the forest, which stretched far away behind for many miles; whilst in the front it commanded a view over the village of Emmerton, with its scattered dwellings and its gray church-tower, and the distant country beyond. The interior of the cottage consisted of a drawing-room, with windows opening upon the lawn, a small study, a dining-room which looked out on the most retired part of the garden, and several bedrooms; and it was here that Amy Herbert passed the earliest and the happiest portion of her life: and though to some it might have seemed that her pleasures could have been but few, as she had no companions of her own age, not many servants to wait upon her, and no money to expend on whatever might be the fancy of the moment, yet it may be doubted whether any of those who have been brought up in the midst of luxury, have ever spent so happy a childhood as hers. For Amy lived in her quiet home, with the mother who to her was all in all; and when she sat by her side at work, or read to her aloud, or walked with her, or listened to her sweet voice as she sang her favourite songs, she had not a wish for anything else that the world could give. In the summer, Amy's mornings were employed in learning from her mother all that was considered necessary for the education of a lady; for Mrs Herbert, besides possessing a well-cultivated mind, understood both music and drawing, and spared neither time nor trouble in endeavouring to give her child a taste for the same pursuits. The afternoons were often spent in an arbour, shut out from the view of every passer-by, where Amy read to her mother the books which most interested her; and in the evening she generally walked with her into the village, either to inquire after some of their poor neighbours, or to pay a visit to the rectory, where the affection with which she was received was always a source of enjoyment, though there were no children to be her play-fellows. Occasionally, also, Amy would persuade her mother to wander with her into the forest, and there, leaving her seated on the trunk of some old tree, with her book or her work, she would search amongst the thick underwood for wild flowers or wood strawberries, and return to her, triumphantly laden, as she said, with spoils: and when the falling dews and the gathering twilight told that it was the hour of rest. Amy, kneeling in her chamber, repeated her evening prayers, and, after receiving her mother's last fond kiss and her fervent blessing, laid her head upon her pillow, to dream of the joys of the past day, and the interests of the coming morrow.

The winter also brought its delights: the warm fire-side in the morning, and the quick walk in the middle of the day, when the sun was shining and the earth glittering with the frost, and the tales of days and people long gone by, with which Mrs Herbert would amuse her little girl in the dusky twilight; whilst in the evening came the bright lamp and the hissing urn, to make them forget that there was anything like cold or discomfort to be endured without. And so Amy's childhood passed tranquilly on; not that it was entirely free from interruptions and disappointments, or that she was always able to follow her own inclinations; for there were gloomy days and causes of vexation, and she had faults which, at times, interfered with her happiness; but her annoyances were soon over, and whenever she gave way to any evil feelings, either of ill temper, indolence, or carelessness, the sorrowful expression of her mother's countenance, and the grave tone of her voice, never failed to recall her quickly to a better mind.

There were, besides, other pleasures to vary the regularity of Amy's life; a drive in the rector's carriage to the neighbouring town, or an invitation to drink tea at the parsonage, or, what she most delighted in, a long walk with her mother, to wander over a large old house, which was about two miles distant from the cottage, and situated on the same side of the forest, though in a different direction from the village. Emmerton Hall was indeed a most interesting place; the house—the work of ages passed away—was of gray stone, deeply stained by exposure to the severity of many a wintry storm. It was a large, irregular building, with high gable ends, deep oriel windows, turrets with pointed pinnacles, and heavy, clustering chimneys nearly hidden by masses of the rich, dark ivy which covered a great proportion of the walls. The principal front consisted of the original three-gabled house and two projecting wings which had been added at a later period, and along its whole length extended a broad gravel terrace, divided from the other part of the grounds by a stone balustrade, and ornamented at regular intervals with large Italian vases. From this terrace a flight of steps at each end descended to the pleasure-garden, which was laid out in green lawns, and shrubberies, and winding walks, and bounded by a clear sheet of water flowing through the whole of the demesne. On the other side of the water stretched a richly-wooded park that had once formed a portion of the forest, whilst from the terrace might be seen beyond this a wide expanse of lovely country,—corn-fields, meadows, villages, and churches, blended together in the soft mists of the distance, and terminated by the faint shadow which marked the outline of one of the highest ranges of hills in all England.

To the right of the house the ground rose abruptly in a hill of considerable height, the sides of which had been partly formed into smooth grassy terraces, and partly planted with beech, ash, elm, and oak trees, and amongst these many walks were cut, ascending gradually to the top, and opening at length upon a line of down, from whence might be