CHAPTER II. Javan, I know that all men hate my father: Make up to his forlorn and desolate heart Fall of Jerusalem. After the death of Amy and their father, the widow of a younger brother of Mr. Shepherd came to live with her nieces, and, in their worldly circumstances, they were more comfortable than they had ever been. The two girls continued their former way of life, except that, with every succeeding year, the child of her sister asked and received more and more of the attention of Miss Shepherd; and never was a favourite daughter brought up more tenderly than the fatherless and motherless Isabel Denison. In her first childhood, she gave her aunt unmixed pleasure; for she was a lovely, gentle, affectionate child; and, indifferent as Rachel was to personal appearance in general, even she could not but feel pleasure in the surpassing beauty of her charge. Isabel had the fair complexion and dark auburn hair of her mother; but her figure, her features, and the expression of her countenance, were entirely different. Captain Denison's mother was a Spaniard; and her grandchild had the dark, soft, brilliant Spanish eye, yet more striking and brilliant contrasted with her fair skin. Already, even in childhood, too, her figure promised that undulating grace and dignity common to the Spanish women. She was indeed exquisitely beautiful; and, as she walked along by the side of her aunt, with her noble, almost stately air, and her dark curls waving on her shoulders, the cottagers would come to their doors to gaze; and many a traveller paused upon his way, to admire and to smile upon her. By degrees, however, as the peculiarities of her character unfolded themselves, some of the sorrows, as well as the joys, of education appeared. There was, at times, a haughtiness and reserve in the little girl which completely puzzled her aunt; and there were fancies, whims, and refinements, dislikes and antipathies, which Rachel could not understand, and which she hardly knew whether to punish as faults, or to pass over unnoticed. "I cannot understand Isabel," she would say to her sister; "when I take her among the poor people, she is so gentle, that I am quite pleased with her; but, if she goes with me to visit our neighbours, she draws herself up as if there was no one good enough for her to speak to." The fact was, that the little girl had an instinctive dislike to every thing vulgar. Many children show this dislike very early, unconsciously shrinking from vulgarity and noise, as if refinement of mind were a part of the innocency of childhood. In Isabel, however, it was more than dislike-she seemed to shudder at it. The first event that broke the monotony of her life was the marriage of Charlotte Shepherd, of which marriage she expressed the strongest disapprobation. A Mr. Jones, who had been a clerk in a counting-house in London, unexpectedly came into possession of a small property in the neighbourhood of Ellerton. Charlotte, though rather on a large scale, was at six-and-twenty still very handsome, and, even at their first meeting, was selected by Mr. Jones from the young ladies of the place as the fortunate mistress of his house. One evening, Mrs. Shepherd, her nieces, and Isabel, were sitting at tea, at the usual hour of seven, when Mr. Jones appeared. It was the third visit he had paid to their house in the course of a week, and in Rachel's eyes this looked very suspicious. 66 Won't you take a dish of tea, Mr. Jones?" said old Mrs. Shepherd, as he appeared; 66 you will find it very refreshing this warm evening." Mr. Jones gratefully accepted the offer, drew a chair to the table, and said, turning to Isabel-" Good evening, little lady: what, are you sitting up to tea? In my day, children were snoring at this hour." Isabel looked unutterable things, but made no answer. "Not quite so strong, if you please, Mrs. Shepherd; and, if I might suggest, the sugar, five lumps, before the cream. I've lived a bachelor life so long, that you must excuse my being a little particular." Here was a glance at Charlotte. "But I hope you don't mean to be a bachelor much longer, sir," said Mrs. Shepherd; "your new house must want a mistress.' "Very true, ma'am; and the master, too. In London, I had only to look out of window, and I had plenty of company; but I have not grown to think trees and flowers companions yet. How should you like to live alone, my little lady?" 66 Very much, sir," replied Isabel, loftily. "Should you, indeed! Well, I am a social animal myself, and I think one little quiet |