"She has sinned," said she to herself; "but at that age, how can one be harsh? She must not be thrown upon the world to make sin a habit. Follow me," she said, after a little pause; "and think you have found a friend."
The lady then turned from the high-road down a green lane which led to a park lodge. This lodge she entered; and after a short conversation with the inmate, beckoned to Alice to join her.
"Janet," said Alice's new protector to a comely and pleasant-eyed woman, "this is the young person--you will show her and the infant every attention. I shall send down proper clothing for her to-morrow, and I shall then have thought what will be best for her future welfare."
With that the lady smiled benignly upon Alice, whose heart was too full to speak; and the door of the cottage closed upon her, and Alice thought the day had grown darker.
CHAPTER V.
"Believe me, she has won me much to pity her. Alas! her gentle nature was not made To buffet with adversity."--ROWE.
"Sober he was, and grave from early youth, Mindful of forms, but more intent on truth; In a light drab he uniformly dress'd, And look serene th' unruffled mind express'd.
* * * * *
"Yet might observers in his sparkling eye Some observation, some acuteness spy The friendly thought it keen, the treacherous deem'd it sly; Yet not a crime could foe or friend detect, His actions all were like his speech correct-- Chaste, sober, solemn, and devout they named Him who was this, and not of this ashamed."--CRABBE.
"I'll on and sound this secret."--BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
MRS. LESLIE, the lady introduced to the reader in the last chapter, was a woman of the firmest intellect combined (no unusual combination) with the softest heart. She learned Alice's history with admiration and pity. The natural innocence and honesty of the young mother spoke so eloquently in her words and looks, that Mrs. Leslie, on hearing her tale, found much less to forgive than she had anticipated. Still she deemed it necessary to enlighten Alice as to the criminality of the connection she had formed. But here Alice was singularly dull--she listened in meek patience to Mrs. Leslie's lecture; but it evidently made but slight impression on her. She had not yet seen enough of the social state to correct the first impressions of the natural: and all she could say in answer to Mrs. Leslie was: "It may be all very true, madam, but I have been so much better since I knew him!"
But though Alice took humbly any censure upon herself, she would not hear a syllable insinuated against Maltravers. When, in a very natural indignation, Mrs. Leslie denounced him as a destroyer of innocence--for Mrs. Leslie could not learn all that extenuated his offence--Alice started up with flashing eyes and heaving heart, and would have hurried from the only shelter she had in the wide world--she would sooner have died--she would sooner even have seen her child die, than done that idol of her soul, who, in her eyes, stood alone on some pinnacle between earth and heaven, the wrong of hearing him reviled. With difficulty Mrs. Leslie could restrain, with still more difficulty could she pacify and soothe her; and for the girl's petulance, which others might have deemed insolent or ungrateful, the woman-heart of Mrs. Leslie loved her all the better. The more she saw of Alice, and the more she comprehended her story and her character, the more was she lost in wonder at the romance of which this beautiful child had been the heroine, and the more perplexed she was as to Alice's future prospects.
At length, however, when she became acquainted with Alice's musical acquirements, which were, indeed, of no common order, a light broke in upon her. Here was the source of her future independence. Maltravers, it will be remembered, was a musician of consummate skill as well as taste, and Alice's natural talent for the art had advanced her, in the space of months, to a degree of perfection which it cost others--which it had cost even the quick Maltravers--years to obtain. But we learn so rapidly when our teachers are those we love: and it may be observed that the less our knowledge, the less perhaps our genius in other things, the more facile are our attainments in music, which is a very jealous mistress of the mind. Mrs. Leslie resolved to have her perfected in this art, and so enable her to become a teacher to others. In the town of C------, about thirty miles from Mrs. Leslie's house, though in the same county, there was no inconsiderable circle of wealthy and intelligent persons; for it was a cathedral town, and the resident clergy drew around them a kind of provincial aristocracy. Here, as in most rural towns in England, music was much cultivated, both among the higher and middle classes. There were amateur concerts, and glee-clubs, and subscriptions for sacred music; and once every five years there was the great C------ Festival. In this town Mrs. Leslie established Alice: she placed her under the roof of a /ci-devant/ music-master, who, having retired from his profession, was no longer jealous of rivals, but who, by handsome terms, was induced to complete the education of Alice.