Page:Once a Week Volume V.djvu/597

 590 talents, rank, and fortune, a handsome person, and all that men most covet, he had neither benefited himself nor the world, neither conferred happiness on others nor secured it for himself; all the rare advantages he possessed had not saved him from being the victim of disappointment, bitterness of heart, and vexation of spirit. His love for the beautiful Indian girl, whose brief life had been like the blossoming and fading of some rare flower, had for a little space raised him somewhat above the selfishness which had been his life’s bane; but on her death, his whole nature hardened into a cold and stem despair, which, without pity to himself, was pitiless to others. Then infant Coral, who, while she was with him, seemed a faint shadow of his lost love, was mysteriously stolen away, and he began to look on these repeated misfortunes as special punishments from the hand of Providence. Religious remorse took possession of his mind; he became gloomy and austere; all delight in existence, all power to enjoy its gifts fled; only one faint gleam checkered this darkness—the hope of recovering his lost child, never relinquished, in spite of frequent disappointments, till the lost one was at last found.

But fate’s stern decree, that disappointment invariably follows the fruition of some long-cherished desire, was not to be revoked for him. It is true that Coral‘s beauty more than satisfied the requisitions of his fastidious and exacting taste, and that her natural grace and refinement astonished, while they delighted him; but though she remembered her promise to Keefe, and tried to submit to the requirement of her new position, adopt its habits, and follow its rules, she pined beneath the change, as any bird of the wilderness, when transported thence to delight some city denizen, and her father soon saw that all the idolatrous love he lavished on her, all the pleasures with which he endeavoured to give brightness and interest to her existence, could not make her happy, or conquer her silent but irrepressible regrets for the life she had left.

Determined that her native beauty, grace, and intelligence should now receive all the advantages of culture, so long denied them, the Count engaged the best masters he could procure, to teach her all it was then thought necessary for an accomplished young lady to know. Apparently, nature was jealous of any interference with her favourite child, and determined that the charms she had bestowed and fostered should be neither mended nor marred by art, for Coral profitedI little by their instruction. She had been gifted with an exquisite voice, clear, sweet, and thrilling, full of melody and pathos; she had a fine ear, and a quick and accurate perception of harmony; but it was impossible to make her understand or remember those “notes, numbers, and fixed rules” which transform the divine instinct of music into a science. Every melody she heard, she made her own; and in the evening she would often sing sweet airs with such and and witching power, that they seemed scarce earthly; but she could not, or would not, comprehend the mysteries of keys and chords, tones and semi-tones, and the complicated principles of that harmony which in its essence made up so large a part of her being; her soul refused to find a voice in strings of wire and catgut, or pieces of ivory, and without the soul’s inspiration her fingers were motionless, her voice mute. Pencil and brush she resolutely refused to touch, for though she had the most passionate love for all the beautiful forms, colours, and aspects of nature, and the truest appreciation of every shade and phase of loveliness, she felt a positive repugnance to what she called their mockery on paper or canvas. Nor did she make much more progress in dancing, for though all her motions were full of grace, and in the woods of Long Arrow she had danced for hours to the sighing of the leaves, the murmurs of the water, or her own sweet warblings, now joy and all its gay impulses had fled, and her love for dancing had fled with them; the glad spirit, which unbidden had taught her to weave her graceful and airy steps among the flowers and under the greenwood tree, had vanished, and now they refused to follow mechanically the elaborate positions and figures of her teachers.

No better result followed the lessons she received in other branches of learning. When she first came to Long Arrow she spoke French and Indian with equal fluency, and she had not been there long before she spoke English with as much readiness as if it had been her native tongue. Denis had taught her to read and write, and she had learned to do both with great quickness and ease; but now, whether owing to the gloom which hung over her and weakened all her energies, or to her teachers not understanding the peculiar character with which they were dealing, she seemed unable to master the simplest elements of geography or grammar. Often she said to herself, that he could find her way to Long Arrow by the magnetic instinct of love, through the deepest darkness or wildest tempest,—and what was any other spot on the globe to her? Nor could she have loved Keefe better had she been able to conjugate the verbs in every language spoken under the sun.

Yet to know that she consoled herself for her ignorance would not have afforded much comfort to the Count, when he listened to the confession which Coral’s instructors reluctantly made, that they could not flatter themselves she had made the least progress in her studies since she had been placed under their care. They endeavoured to soften the unwelcome announcement, by one and all declaring they did not believe this was owing to any want of talent in their pupil, but to the state of her mind, which seemed a prey to a restless melancholy, that prevented her from taking interest in anything around her, or from fixing her attention on anything but her secret care. These assertions served to confirm the suspicions which the Count had for some time entertained; and, after a short struggle with many painful and anxious thoughts, he went in search of his daughter.

She was not aware of his entrance, till he sat down on the lounge, by which she was kneeling, and, putting his arm round her neck, turned her face towards his. She started when she felt his clasp, and a bewildered expression came into her eyes; and then, as she suddenly appeared to