dered easy by the reflexion that she had
performed her duty towards a distressed fellow-creature.
Early the next morning she again visited Charlotte, and found her
tolerably composed; she called her by name, thanked her for her
goodness, and when her child was brought to her, pressed it in her
arms, wept over it, and called it the offspring of disobedience. Mrs.
Beauchamp was delighted to see her so much amended, and began to hope
she might recover, and, spite of her former errors, become an useful and
respectable member of society; but the arrival of the doctor put an end
to these delusive hopes: he said nature was making her last effort, and
a few hours would most probably consign the unhappy girl to her kindred
dust.
Being asked how she found herself, she replied--"Why better, much
better, doctor. I hope now I have but little more to suffer. I had last
night a few hours sleep, and when I awoke recovered the full power of
recollection. I am quite sensible of my weakness; I feel I have but
little longer to combat with the shafts of affliction. I have an humble
confidence in the mercy of him who died to save the world, and trust
that my sufferings in this state of mortality, joined to my unfeigned
repentance, through his mercy, have blotted my offences from the sight
of my offended maker. I have but one care--my poor infant! Father of
mercy," continued she, raising her eyes, "of thy infinite goodness,
grant that the sins of the parent be not visited on the unoffending
child. May those who taught me to despise thy laws be forgiven; lay not
my offences to their charge, I beseech thee; and oh! shower the choicest
of thy blessings on those whose pity has soothed the afflicted heart,
and made easy even the bed of pain and sickness."
She was exhausted by this fervent address to the throne of mercy, and
though her lips still moved her voice became inarticulate: she lay for
some time as it were in a doze, and then recovering, faintly pressed
Mrs. Beauchamp's hand, and requested that a clergyman might be sent for.
On his arrival she joined fervently in the pious office, frequently
mentioning her ingratitude to her parents as what lay most heavy at her
heart. When she had performed the last solemn duty, and was preparing to
lie down, a little bustle on the outside door occasioned Mrs. Beauchamp
to open it, and enquire the cause. A man in appearance about forty,
presented himself, and asked for Mrs. Beauchamp.
"That is m
|