ABSTRACT
When D’Alonville arrived at the house of Captain Caverly, he had the satisfaction of finding Edward Ellesmere, who had left Eddisbury two or three days before he had originally intended. He had taken a final leave, he said, of every body at home; and D’Alonville could not forbear enquiring how he could so soon disengage himself from a family, who must undoubtedly feel distressed at his departure. Ellesmere answered, ‘You should recollect, my good friend, that my father has his politician to console him; and then little Master, who is so fond of English tunes; circumstances that, of course, abate his regret at parting with a younger son who is no politician at all.’ ‘But your mother,’ said D’Alonville, ‘she certainly must be made extremely unhappy, thus to part with you; and to see you enter a profession, attended with so much danger.’ ‘My mother!’ answered Ellesmere. – ‘Oh, yes! poor dear woman, she wept a little, and gave me a great many blessings, and some good advice; but as to ideas of danger, she has none. She has not a mind capable of figuring what she never saw. Imagination never oppresses her with its visionary terrors; or if it did, the most terrific drawing would soon be erased by the home scenes around her; and she would think more of what had happened at the next market town. Such is the effect of living always in a narrow circle, without any change of ideas.’ ‘In this instance, however, it is happy, my friend. Your sisters, were undoubtedly greatly hurt to part with you.’ Ellesmere smiled. ‘My eldest sister,’ said he, ‘is in love, you know, which is a wonderful defence against any collateral distresses. A young lady, Sir, thus circumstanced, sees no object in the universe but the dear youth. As to Mary, she is too happy about herself just now, to make it reasonable for me to expect her to feel much concern for me. This revolution in the politics of the elder branch of my family, has made a revolution in their economy. Mary is going to London with Lady Sophia. She expects to come down with a lover of immense fortune, if not with a title. In such cases, a brother more or less 299makes no difference. As to my poor little Theodora, who is not yet allowed to come out of the nursery, she is as sorry as if she had lost any other of her play-fellows, but she thinks no farther. However, I have prevailed on my mother, I hope, to consider Theodora no longer as a child; Heaven knows, my dear Chevalier, whether I shall ever have an opportunity of making her another request.’ Ellesmere seemed affected for a moment by the thoughts of having taken, perhaps, a last leave of his whole family; though their partiality for a brother, who had nothing to recommend him but the circumstance of having been born a few years sooner, had left him, in quitting the paternal seat of his ancestors, much less to regret than he would have had under other circumstances. But immediately regaining his usual gaiety, he turned the discourse to other subjects.
