ABSTRACT
It was not till a late hour that Mrs. Waldron came down to breakfast; but Edward, whose spirits were now buoyant as the air, rose with the lark, and had amused himself with wandering among the rocks, and exploring the various bays, with which the shores about Glendemus were indented. In one of these was a huge cavern, not unaptly termed the cathedral,23 to the noblest of which in the Gothic style it bore a strong resemblance. Edward had a horror of caverns ever since his adventure in the sacred cave of Agigua; nevertheless, he was tempted to peep in, and was rewarded with a spectacle of grandeur, which a lover of the sublime in nature would have thought ample recompense for a long journey. At high water the tide/ owed in to the end of this cavern upwards of ve hundred feet, and at all times le a pool of the most crystalline transparency for nearly its whole length, and deep enough to oat a ship. e bottom was formed of shells, which through the water appeared of the most resplendent beauty; and all the sides were lined with mosses and sea-plants in boundless variety. A bath so inviting tempted Edward to strip and plunge in; and being an excellent diver, he got up several handfuls of the most beautiful shells, as well as specimens of various mosses which, he observed, Mrs. Waldron had a taste for; and combined into several beautiful pieces of shell-work, so as to resemble, in the most lively manner, grottos, obelisks, groves, and ruins; as also owers so correct as to deceive even upon a near inspection. He had observed somewhat of a similar taste in Lady Cecilia Rivers, and therefore was determined to make use of his present opportunity to collect/ a quantity of these rarities for her. He intended, indeed, to surprise her ladyship, and throw himself at her feet, as soon as he was in a condition to travel; and only waited the answer to his letter to the agent of his regiment in Dublin, and the cash which he expected from him, to equip himself with immediate necessaries, for the ship-wreck had le him nothing but the clothes on his back, and poor Weenacoba’s wampum belt, which happened to be about his neck. In the mean time he was in the happiest quarters in which he could be placed; and every hour endeared him more and more to Mrs. Waldron, whose a ection could hardly be greater if he really was her grandson. When he came into the parlour, and shewed her his shells and mosses, she knew by his
dripping curls where he had been, and gently chid him for venturing alone to swim in those deep pools, and among slippery rocks. He smiled, and asked her if she would have/ one of the maids to attend him, since she thought he could not take care of himself. She said, ‘No:’ she did not know whether she would trust him even with one of the maids; but she would attend him herself, unless he promised not to run any more hazard of being drowned while he was under her protection. ‘You are so kind to me, my dear Mrs. Waldron,’ said he, ‘that I should be unpardonably guilty, if I should willingly give you any uneasiness: therefore, whatever commands you lay upon me I shall obey.’ – ‘It is dutifully spoken,’ said she (and she looked at Miss Walker): ‘if every young man were as tractable, we should no longer lament the want of grey heads upon green shoulders. – ‘I hope the grey heads will long continue on the shoulders which they most adorn,’ replied Ned; ‘but submission to authority, and acquiescence with well-intended advice, become all heads, whether green or grey; and therefore I/ shall pay it.’ In the midst of this conversation William entered the room with some letters, one of which Mrs. Waldron announced to be from Lady Cecilia. A deeper crimson glowed on Edward’s cheek, on hearing this news; and he could not suppress his impatience while the old lady sought her spectacles, rst in one pocket and then in the other, and a er all found them in neither. ‘Oh! here they are,’ said he, as he spied one end of them peeping out of her prayer-book, where she had been reading the psalms appointed for the day. e good lady having adjusted them to her nose, went to the window with her letter; and Edward’s eye attentively watched every feature of her face. ‘It is all over,’ said Mrs. Waldron. ‘Dear Madam, what is all over?’ said Edward: ‘is Lady Cecilia dead?’ ‘No,’ said Mrs. Waldron, ‘or she could hardly have written an account of it herself. In good truth, my young friend, I suspect you were born/ among us, or you could not so quickly have acquired the art of bull-making.’24 Edward blushed. ‘Lord Rivers,’ said Mrs. Waldron, ‘is no more; and his poor father is in the deepest a iction. Lady Cecilia also is a sincere mourner: yet her tears are not so wholly engrossed but she has some le for you, Mr. Evans: but these I hope we shall soon wipe away. Come, I see,’ said she, ‘your impatience. ere, read the letter yourself. Her ladyship never had a thought that might not be proclaimed to all the world.’ Ned bowed his gratitude, and took the letter, which trembled in his hand as he read the following lines:
Ravensdale, October 14, 1783. My dear Mrs. Waldron!
