CHAPTER XIX. A MISTAKE DISCOVERED. [19.1] Julia Franklin was the only child of a man of large property, who, at the age of eighteen, left her independent mistress of an unencumbered income of seven hundred [pounds sterling] a year; she was a girl of a lively disposition, and humane, susceptible heart: she resided in New-York with an uncle, who loved her too well, and had too high an opinion of her prudence, to scrutinize her actions so much as would have been necessary with many young ladies, who were not blest with her discretion: she was, at the time Montraville arrived at New-York, the life of society, and the universal toast. Montraville was introduced to her by the following accident.
[19.2]
One night
when he [Montraville]
was on guard, a dreadful fire
broke out near Mr. Franklin's house, which, in a few hours, reduced that and
several others to ashes; fortunately no lives were lost, and, by the assiduity
[diligence]
of the soldiers, much valuable
property was saved from the flames. In the midst of the confusion an old
gentleman came up to Montraville, and, putting a small box into his hands,
cried—"Keep it, my good Sir, till I come to you again;" and then rushing again
into the thickest of the crowd, Montraville saw him no more. He waited till the
fire was quite extinguished and the mob dispersed; but in vain: the old
gentleman did not appear to claim his property; and Montraville, fearing to make
any enquiry, lest he should meet with impostors who might lay claim, without any
legal right, to the box, carried it to his lodgings, and locked it up: he
naturally imagined, that the person who committed it to his care knew him, and
would, in a day or two, reclaim it; but several weeks passed on, and no enquiry
being made, he began to be uneasy, and resolved to examine the contents of the
box, and if they were, as he supposed, valuable, to spare no pains to discover,
and restore them to the owner. Upon opening it, he found it contained
jewels to a large amount, about two
hundred pounds in money, and a miniature picture set for a bracelet. On
examining the picture, he thought he had somewhere seen features very like it,
but could not recollect where. A few days after, being
at a public assembly, he saw Miss
Franklin, and the likeness was too evident to be mistaken: he enquired among
his brother officers if any of them knew her, and found one who was upon terms
of intimacy in the family: "then introduce me to her immediately," said he, "for
I am certain I can inform her of something which will give her peculiar
pleasure."
[19.3]
He was
immediately introduced, found she was the owner of the jewels, and was invited
to breakfast the next morning in order to their restoration. This whole evening
Montraville was honored with Julia's hand; the lively sallies
[displays]
of
her wit, the elegance of her manner,
powerfully charmed him: he forgot
[19.4]
He arose,
dressed himself, and taking the picture out, "I will reserve this from the
rest," said he, "and by presenting it to her when she thinks it is lost, enhance
the value of the obligation." He repaired to Mr. Franklin's, and found Julia in
the breakfast parlor alone.
[19.5]
"How happy am
I, Madam," said he, "that being the fortunate instrument of saving these jewels
has been the means of procuring me the acquaintance of so amiable a lady. There
are the jewels and money all safe."
[19.6]
"But where is
the picture, Sir?" said Julia.
[19.7]
"Here, Madam.
I would not willingly part with it."
[19.8]
"It is the
portrait of my mother," said she, taking it from him: "'tis all that remains."
She pressed it to her lips, and a tear trembled in her eyes. Montraville glanced
his eye on her grey night gown and black ribbon, and his own feelings prevented
a reply.
[19.9]
Julia Franklin was the very
reverse of Charlotte Temple: she was tall
[ch.1 para. 3 described Charlotte as “tall”],
elegantly shaped, and possessed much of the air and manner of a woman of fashion;
her complexion was a clear brown, enlivened with the glow of health, her eyes,
full, black, and sparkling, darted their intelligent glances through long silken
lashes; her hair was shining brown, and her features regular and striking; there
was an air of innocent gaiety that played about her countenance, where good
humor sat triumphant.
[19.10]
"I have been mistaken," said
Montraville. "I imagined I loved
[19.11]
Full of these
painful thoughts, Montraville walked out to see Charlotte: she saw him approach,
and ran out to meet him: she banished from her countenance the air of discontent
which ever appeared when he was absent, and met him with a smile of joy.
[19.12]
"I thought
you had forgot me, Montraville," said she, "and was very unhappy."
[19.13]
"I shall
never forget you, Charlotte," he replied, pressing her hand.
[19.14]
The uncommon
gravity of his countenance, and the brevity of his reply, alarmed her.
[19.15]
"You are not
well," said she; "your hand is hot; your eyes are heavy; you are very ill."
[19.16]
"I am a villain," said he
mentally, as he turned from her to hide his emotions.
[19.17]
"But come,"
continued she tenderly, "you shall go to bed, and I will sit by, and watch you;
you will be better when you have slept." [19.18] Montraville was glad to retire, and by pretending sleep, hide the agitation of his mind from her penetrating eye. Charlotte watched by him till a late hour, and then, lying softly down by his side, sunk into a profound sleep, from whence she awoke not till late the next morning.
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