When I was about twenty he died, leaving me, his only
child, a comfortable property, consisting of about two hundred
acres of land and some fifteen hundred pounds in money. My mother
had died about three years previously. I felt the death of my
mother keenly, but that of my father less than was my duty; indeed,
truth compels me to acknowledge that I scarcely regretted his
death. The cause of this want of proper filial feeling was the
opposition which I had experienced from him in an affair which
deeply concerned me. I had formed an attachment for a young female
in the neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly respectable
birth, her father having been a curate of the Established Church.
She was, at the time of which I am speaking, an orphan, having lost
both her parents, and supported herself by keeping a small school.
My attachment was returned, and we had pledged our vows, but my
father, who could not reconcile himself to her lack of fortune,
forbade our marriage in the most positive terms. He was wrong, for
she was a fortune in herself--amiable and accomplished. Oh! I
cannot tell you all she was--" and here the old man drew his hand
across his eyes. "By the death of my father, the only obstacle to
our happiness appeared to be removed. We agreed, therefore, that
our marriage should take place within the course of a year; and I
forthwith commenced enlarging my house and getting my affairs in
order.
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