F SYBIL LENNARD. CHAPTER I. And the home of my childhood is distant far, HERVEY, VIVIDLY stamped upon my memory are the impressions created by my first arrival at Oakleigh Court. I was a poor, forlorn orphan; a Swiss by birth. Educated for the profession of a governess, at the age of seventeen, I was admitted as under teacher in a school of some celebrity in those days-as such, I drudged for seven years. Many trials marked that period. Confinement and dependence galled my free mountain spirit; I sighed-nay, groaned for my "Father Land," my beautiful Switzerland! bitter, bitter were the tears that moistened my bread of servitude. "Dear Felicie, would you like to undertake the office of governess, in a very, very delightful family?" "Would I? Too gladly," I replied; "but who would choose me as a governess?" 66 Leave that to me," answered Miss Howard, gaily; "I have a charming plan in view for you; and once having gained your consent, I will soon manage the rest." But, Imagine my delight, gentle Reader! perhaps, that is impossible; for few, I believe, ever experienced such a sudden reverse from despondency to hope, and then to happiness, as I did, happiness which, although all passed and gone, and I am now old and sad, can never vanish from my remembrance; it passes over my worn and enfeebled memory, like a bright flash of light, illumining, for a moment, the mind's eye, and showing with magic effect, the scenes of that blissful period; for a moment only, however, does the illusion continue; suddenly it again disappears, and the present, with all its losses and crosses, is before my sorrowing fancy. A school is a little world; and young as were the actors upon that confined stage, still they were embryo characters, all putting forth the different germs of good and evil. Sad it is to think, how much of frailty lurks even in the A few days after Miss Howard's visit, I was fairest and youngest-sin, that fatal inheritance ordered into the awful presence of Mrs. Satterthfrom our mother Eve, clings to all her daugh-waite, and, in fear and trembling, awaited her ters, with a pertinacity which defies education and every other advantage. Amongst the young ladies, there was one who showed me peculiar favor and unfailing kindness. She was a kind and sensible girl; and her society proved, indeed, a solace-in short, the only gleam of sunshine which enlivened that dismal epoch. But the moment came that she was to leave school; and when she was gone, the gloom seemed to gather and to thicken round me; all was dark to my sorrowful mind-not a hope did I possess of brighter days on earth. I had no friends-no money. I was utterly dependant on Mrs. Satterthwaite, the directress of the establishment; not a prospect afforded itself to my weeping eyes, save the gloomy walls of the eternal school-room. About three months after Miss Howard's departure, to my inexpressible delight, she entered the study-an angel of consolation she stood before me! How I wept for joy-for was she not the only creature, who had ever attached herself to the poor, plain, sad-looking, Swiss girl? After she had devoted some time to her clamorous companions, she drew me to one side, and said, commands. Her countenance surprised me. I had never seen her look upon me thus-all sternness had vanished; with much condescension, she informed me that Miss Howard had commissioned her to equip me properly, in order to accompany her uncle, Mr. Devereux, into Somersetshire, at the end of a fortnight, to enter upon the situation of governess to his only child, a daughter ten years of age. She then added, that my salary was to be a sum, which, to me, appeared an offer of wealth my most mercenary dreams had never pictured. My astonishment almost usurped the place of ecstasy; but, by degrees, the reality of my met. amorphose (almost as great as that of the chrysalis, starting into the free butterfly,) burst upon my mind. I heard the young ladies descant upon my good luck, as they termed it, (and a bad term it is.) I heard some say, who knew the family, that Mr. and Mrs. Devereux were excellent people, and very rich, and that little Sybilla Devereux was the most charming child in the world-so pretty and engaging, and that they lived in such a beautiful place. At length, the eventful day-arrived, and equipped in the most respectable gown I had ever yet possessed, and a new bonnet-in which I really thought I did not look so very (3) ugly, I awaited Mr. Devereux, who was to call for me in his carriage, and accompany me to Oakleigh Court. It was a beautiful day, early in the month of June. We travelled in an open bristka, and with the delightful speed of four horses. All was new to me-even the motion of the carriage the fresh, balmy air through which we passed so rapidly! I became dreadfully nervous when Mr. Devereux informed me, that we were drawing near to Oakleigh Court; and as we clattered through the village adjoining the park, I saw nothing of its picturesque beauty, so deeply was my mind absorbed in the anticipation of my arrival We reached the lodge, and the magnificence of the entrance only added to my alarm; all around seemed so awfully grand. The carriage stopped for one brief moment; then the massive iron gates flew open wide; a smiling, happy face was seen the faithful portress curtseying a welcome home to the eyes grew dim; every object seemed to float before them; I saw nothing more, till soon-too soon, I thought, we drew up before the stately mansion. The country, through which we passed, seemed to me beautiful; the hedges so greenthe trees so luxuriant-the air heavy laden with the smell of the hay which was making in every direction. Then the cattle looked so pic-master! My heart beat almost audibly; my turesque, sprinkled over the various meadows; and it was not' alone the rural sights that delighted me, but also the rural sounds of animated nature; the waving of the boughs in the pure, light breeze-the cawing of the rooks, and above all, the notes of the ten thousand warblers, which cheer the day with their entrancing melody. In short, all was utter enchantment; and the good genius, who had converted to me this earth into fairy land, was the kind, benevolent-looking being, who sat beside me. Mr. Devereux, at that time, was in the prime of life. His countenance at once told the beholder the nature of his mind-there was no mistaking his character. Spurzheim would have gloried in the exemplification of his theory, whilst pointing out the strongly marked signs, by which he distinguished benevolence, veneration, and conscientiousness, added to reasoning faculties so conspicuously developed on that intellectual forehead. The manners of Mr. Devereux were gentle, cheerful and affable; once to look upon his mild, expressive eyes, was sufficient to re-assure the most timid heart. I have met with many since-have mixed with general society, but never have I seen his like-but once, and he-but more of that hereafter. Mr. Devereux was the most perfect specimen of a gentleman; high breeding, mingled with such a courteous address; and he was so considerate, so respectful in his bearing towards women-in a word, he won, in turn, the deferential love of all who knew him, and, truly, on his countenance was stamped the impress of a Christian. Long before our journey was ended, I had ceased to deplore my personal defects-for they did not seem to injure me in the opinion of my companion. He conversed with me kindly and freely; with much interest, combined with delicate tact, appearing desirous of discovering not only what were my acquirements, but also my sentiments and feelings. In a short time, I was so completely at home with my new acquaintance, that I had related all my little history-my past sorrows and present joy, and I felt assured that I had acquired a friend, for he listened with kindness and sympathy, to the genuine outpourings of my heart. "Yours will not, I trust, be a very arduous undertaking, Mademoiselle," he said; "your future pupil is docile and affectionate, and Mrs. Devereux will esteem you, in proportion as you make her child good and happy.' CHAPTER II. Child of the country! on the lawn CUNNINGHAM. MRS. DEVEREUX was on the steps to receive her husband. Courteously was I greeted; but in her manner, there was something-I know not how to define it-which did not put me so much at my ease, as the demeanour of her husband; nor was her appearance as prepossessing. She was older than I had expected his wife would be, and less handsome; but first impressions are often mere deceitful fancies, seldom to be relied on. This I soon learnt, both in the present case, and many others; and although on my introduction to Mrs. Devereux, I remember the idea passing through my mind which, if expressed in words, would have been, "I shall not like her," how differently did I feel, as time rolled on; every succeeding year strengthening my attachment towards this excellent, though certainly not attractive lady. 66 Where are the children?" exclaimed Mr. Devereux. “Children!" thought I, "I imagined there was only one child." 66 They are in the hay-field," was the answer; "I allowed them to go there with nurse; I could not withstand Sybil's earnest entreaties; although, to say the truth, that little madcap becomes wilder than ever, under the influence of the hay-fever'-for such I denominate the excitement, which a romp in the hay-field occasions." "I shall go to her there," said Mr. Devereux; "Mademoiselle, you shall accompany me, and be introduced to your new charge." Gladly did I acquiesce in the proposal, though I could perceive that Mrs. Devereux would have preferred my waiting to be introduced in a more ceremonious manner to her daughter. We passed through a beautiful garden into a shrubbery, that skirted one side of the mansion; at the extremity of which, a rustic gate opened into an extensive meadow. A lively scene burst upon my view-the important, merry bustle of a hay harvest. Delightfully to the senses came the hum of happy voices, and the balmy breeze wafted by the evening air; it was rather late, but still the pleasant labor was to be completed before the red glowing sun sank beneath the tops of the foliage, that crowned the summit of the neighboring hills. "Where are the children ?" again exclaimed Mr. Devereux, and then he hastened forwardfor he had caught sight of one of them at the extremity of the meadow, and well knew that the other could not be far off. I followed him. Under the shade of some trees, I saw a boy employed in hastily heaping up a very high hay-cock; he appeared to be encouraged in his labors by a little dog, which was barking and frisking round it, seemingly as interested in the undertaking, as his young master; an elderly woman stood by, looking primly on. On nearly reaching the spot, Mr. Devereux called out, 66 Holloa, Albert, what have you done with Sybil ?" The youth threw his fork on one side, and rushed with affectionate eagerness to greet Mr. Devereux; and. in another moment, the haycock assumed a palpable form, for out of it issued the figure of a little girl, who covered with hay-breathless from the confined situation from which she had escaped, and with cheeks flushed to the brightest crimson, flew towards Mr. Devereux, and in an instant was hanging round his neck, covering his face with kisses, and exclaiming, My dear, dear, darling papa!" And this was my pupil, Sybilla Devereux. When the first rapture of the meeting had somewhat subsided, and Mr. Devereux had contrived to disengage himself from the little arms so tightly twined round him, he turned to me, and said, 66 Mademoiselle, this is my daughter; see what a wild colt you have to tame! Sybil, go and speak to Mademoiselle." But Sybil did not stir; she only pouted her rosy lips, and clung closer to her father, eyeing me askance. My heart began to forebode evil; the words, "She is ugly enough to frighten little Sybil Devereux," again rang in my ears. I believe I looked distressed, for I felt the tears rising in my eyes; and this was perceived by the boy-Albert, for I saw him walk up to the little girl, and heard him with grave earnestness, say, in a tone intended to be a whisper, 66 Sybil! how badly you are behaving! the poor woman looks quite miserable." Sybil turned her large eyes upon me again; at first, with a glance of syspicion, but, by de grees, her face brightened, and her lips relaxed into a smile. Children are skilful physiognomists; a mere infant will like, or dislike, from the effect which the countenance of a person produces upon its fancy. The little girl looked steadfastly in my face for a moment, and then, with an altered expression, came towards me, and freely gave me her hand. Sybilla having once passed the rubicon, once surmounted the difficulty of commencing our acquaintance, with the happy ease of childhood, seemed, in a moment, to be perfectly friendly with me. She leant familiarly upon my arm as we walked on, and chatted at a brisk pace, letting me into the history of all around; accompanied by Albert, she dragged me here, there, and everywhere. I saw the two children look at one another when I spoke in my very broken English; for but little of that language I had been allowed to acquire at Cumberland House, and Sybil would fain have laughed out loud, had she not been checked by a glance from Albert. He certainly seemed to exercise more control over the little lady-or rather, to possess the power of controlling her, in a greater degree than any one else at that period. Mr. Devereux, seeing how favorably matters were proceeding between Sybil and myself, judiciously left the trio together to become thoroughly acquainted. I was soon taken to a rustic cottage-a pos session which appeared to comprise every earthly joy to the children; and truly, it was a perfect baby house. Everything was in miniature. There was the cooking apparatus, in which Sybil especially delighted; how she gloried over her saucepans! The love of housewifery is surely a natural propensity in a woman's heart, for every little girl takes extreme pleasure in preparing the miniature repast intended for her doll; However, to return to Sybil and her cookery! She described, till her little mouth watered, the dinners they helped to lay out-the potatoes they actually themselves boiled-the cakes they kneaded, and then baked on the girdle-what mattered it, if Nurse said they were as heavy as lead?-they considered them delicious. Then the gardens-the rabbits-the bantams -all-all their own! Long, long, did they linger over these scenes of never failing interest; and, notwithstanding my fatigue, I had no wish to shorten their mofully enter into them. Perhaps it was perceivments of perfect enjoyment, for I felt I could ing this, that won their hearts, for at length, when warned by the sharp voice of the nurse, we returned towards the house, Albert as well as Sybil seized each upon an arm, and with the both at the same time, and appeared really to cordiality and freedom of old friends, talked, short a playfellow-an undignified position for rejoice in me, as an acquisition-a third-in a governess, still I felt, "Might I not unite the two-might I not be their friend-the participator in their pleasures, as well as their instructress? at least I would try!" I found Miss Devereux almost uneducated; at ten years old, she knew nothing, beyond a little reading, and still less writing. As a baby, she had been delicate, and although all traces of that period had passed away-for I never saw a more blooming specimen of a child, still the nurse, whose opinion, I soon perceived, was law with Mrs. Devereux, had set her face completely against learning, and abjured governesses, and masters of every description. How I ever became installed in the situation | of preceptress at Oakleigh Court, often appeared to me like a miracle, and such a step could only have been achieved, by the strenuous efforts of Miss Howard, assisted and abetted by Mr. Devereaux, who earnestly desired better things for his child. The nurse, at Oakleigh, had gained a powerful influence over the mind of her mistress; the mother had been led to think, that the life of the precious child had been preserved through her care, and skill; and great, no doubt, had been her attention to the bodily health of her infant charge; but I am inclined to imagine that harm had been done to the young mind; inasmuch as injudicious management, and luxurious indulgence, had induced an irresolution, and infirmity of purpose-a leaning upon the judgment of others, the effect of the first years of Sybil's life having passed, without her being allowed the free exercise of her reasoning powers. Oh happy golden age! thy limbs are strong, ALBERT, I soon discovered, was not Sybilla's brother, but an orphan ward of Mr. Devereaux, who had been an inmate of Oakleigh Court since the age of four years. He was completely a child of the family; the love of Mr. and Mrs. Devereux towards him being scarcely less tender than the affection they felt for their own little Sybil. His prospects were those of great affluence; a large fortune and fine estate awaited his majority. Hitherto he had not been at school, but his education was carefully and skilfully forwarded by the clergyman, whose rectory was close to the park, and who was preparing him successfully for Eton, where he was soon to go. # Every one seemed to adore Albert Lennard, and no wonder, for he was in truth a delightful creature many cases, blinds the judgment, but of such a weakness fraternal love is never guilty; on the contrary, it is ever wide awake to discover specks and blemishes, hidden to other less fastidious eyes. And thus it was with Albert and Sybil. Though he loved her dearly, he could plainly perceive all her little failings, and, ofttimes was provoked by them; moreover he was sometimes dietatorial with her, exercising authority which no one else had ever attempted to assume. In his presence, Sybil often endeavored to check a rising fit of pettishness, or any selfish habit, which such constant companionship with her nurse had engendered. A glance from his eyes could direct her, and yet she was completely at her ease with him-playful and tormenting as a kitten, though she knew how to time her gaiety. She did not venture to approach, whilst Albert was preparing his lessons for Mr. Melville, at least until she knew the business was nearly completed-and then she could not always resist intruding her little person into his own particular room of study, which adjoined the apartments I occupied., I love to recal to my mind the childhood of Sybilla and Albert; my Readers must forgive my dwelling on it yet a little longer, to speak of those bright smiling moments of joy and peace and innocence. What a happy creature is the child, whose fate it is to dwell in the country; how superior are its delights to those of the poor town child ren. When I first beheld little Sybil Devereux, I might truly have exclaimed, "Child of the country! free as air I sing of thee; 'tis sweet to sing Of such a fair and gladsome thing," The childhood of Sybil and Albert was indeed, "The golden light of morning, youth's happy hour." stricken, when fondly beloved children do not outlive that bright season of existence? why have we wept and mourned so bitterly over their young graves, when rather we should exult over their early blessedness, and praise God, that the dearest-e loveliest-the best, have been removed from this evil world, before they had felt the scorching rays of summer, the saÏness of Autumn, and the bleak, chill blasts of a dark, stormy winter's sky? But it is soon over, that sweet and pleasant Sybilla, like every one else, rejoiced in Albert; time, the spring of life, with all its pure hopes indeed she doted on her young companion-he-its freshness. Why are we so sad-so heartwas her all in all-her darling brother-as essential to her happiness, as the air she breathed. I verily believe-although it would have been treason to have said so, that it was principally on her account that Albert's education had hitherto been conducted at home. Mr. and Mrs. Devereux, had not courage to separate the children, till the very last moment, that imperious necessity required it. Albert loved Sybil, as though she were his sister, and scanned her faults with the clear-sightedness of a brother. I have often noted that brothers are peculiarly sensitive upon the subject of the faults of a sister-what in another will pass unobserved, or uncensured, in the unfortunate sister, is quizzed, scrutinized and condemned. Affer tion, in very I had some difficulties in my first efforts, towards forwarding the education of Sybilla, and of establishing regular habits of study. I was forever accused by the nurse of doing too much. If the child looked pale, I had fatigued her to death-if red, she was over excited. Mrs. Dev |