A Lady of England 28

A Lady of England 28

No foreboding whisper in her heart spoke of what that visit to Moultan,

so lightly mentioned, would mean to them all. When the two next letters

were penned, little as Charlotte dreamt of what was coming, the blow had

already fallen, and Letitia had passed away.

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Jan. 2, 1866._

 

‘May the best blessings of the opening year rest upon my

beloved Laura, and her dear circle.

 

‘I hope that dear Leila received my _Rescued from Egypt_ in

the Christmas box. I put it up for her, and to the best of my

knowledge it went to Bournemouth; but as neither she nor you

have mentioned seeing it, I feel half afraid that in some way

I cannot imagine it has missed its destination, and the dear

girl has fancied that when sending little remembrances to her

brothers I had forgotten her.

 

‘Such a delightful budget of letters I had from Letitia by last

Southampton mail! She writes that she is “very very happy.”’

 

TO THE SAME.

 

‘_Jan. 3, 1866._

 

‘I feel that I have not said half enough to your dear husband

for his splendid book. I was in such a hurry to write and thank

him, that I only gave myself time for a cursory glance.... Dear

Fanny enjoyed looking at the pictures with me; and to-day I

carried up my book to dear Mother, that she might have the

pleasure also. She admires your dear husband’s gift greatly,

and we agree that it is just the book to take to the Cottage.

It seems to be quite a treasure of curious and interesting

knowledge; a volume to keep for reference as well as for

perusal. Do thank dear Mr. Hamilton again for me, and tell him

that I consider _Homes Without Hands_ as a family acquisition.

 

‘We are all much _in statu quo_. Our time is now passing

swiftly and pleasantly. Mother looks so bright and bonny and

young! We were talking together to-day of your and your dear

husband’s kindness to sweet Fanny. I am sure that it has not

been lost.’

 

Then came the mournful news; and a hasty short scrawl conveyed the first

intimation of it from Charlotte Tucker to her niece, ‘Leila’ Hamilton; a

note without any formal beginning:--

 

‘Break to your sweet Mother and Aunt Mina that God has taken my

darling Letitia. His Will be done,--Your sorrowing Aunt,

 

‘C. M. T.

 

‘All was peace,--_smiling_!’

 

The illness had been short,--a severe attack of erysipelas, while Letitia

was in her brother’s house at Moultan. Somewhat early in the illness she

had said,--‘I am sure I shall die; but one ought not to mind, you know.’

While delirious she was heard to say distinctly,--‘Ta,’--her pet name

in the past for her aunt Charlotte; but the message, if there were one,

could not be distinguished.

 

After much wandering, she regained sufficient consciousness to assure

those around that she was suffering no pain; and five or six times

she repeated to her brother,--‘I am very fond of you!’ This was on a

Wednesday. The next day, Thursday, she was too weak for speech; though

in the morning, recognising her brother, she gave him a sweet smile.

Thenceforward the dying girl was entirely peaceful; as said by one of

those present,--‘constantly smiling. Her whole face was lighted up as

with extreme pleasure.’ All day this continued, as she slowly sank; the

face remaining perfectly calm and untroubled; till at length, when she

passed away, soon after eleven o’clock at night, ‘she ceased to breathe

so gently that she seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.’ But the

placid smile was still there, unchanged, till the sweet young face was

hidden away.

 

Charlotte Tucker, writing to her sister, Mrs. Hamilton, about these sad

particulars, which yet were not all sad, observed:--

 

‘I am sure your heart has been aching, and your eyes have been

weeping. Such a sudden--such an unexpected stroke! But God is

Wisdom and Love....

 

‘Darling--my own darling Letitia! Oh, when she looked so happy,

did she not see the angels--or her beloved Father--or the

Bedwells and old Rodman whom she had so tended,--perhaps all

coming to welcome her,--or the loving Saviour Himself? I do

not grudge her to Him; but oh, what a wealth of love I have

(apparently) lost in that one young heart! Her _last_ parcel of

letters to me contained sweet commissions for her poor.... I dare

say that I shall hear from you to-morrow; but it is a relief

to me to write now to you, who were so kind and dear to her. I

went out before breakfast this morning. A thrush was singing

so sweetly. I saw the first crocus of the year. My flower,--my

lovely one,--she may now be singing in joy, while we sit in

sorrow.’

 

This letter was dated January 21; and three days later another went to

Mrs. Hamilton, not from Charlotte, but from Fanny:--

 

‘MY OWN DEAREST LAURA,--Your dear letters have been very

soothing to our Charlotte, and have helped to remind her of

the mercies mingled with the bereavement. The sure sweet hope

that her darling is safe, and for ever happy, has been her

strong consolation; and God is mercifully supporting her, I am

thankful to say. Last Sunday she went both to Church and to the

Workhouse.

 

‘I am thankful to be near her, to minister to her,--but wish I

were a better comforter, such as _you_ would have been, dear.

 

‘The sad tidings were most gently broken to our dear Mother by

Clara. She was therefore mercifully spared the shock of the

sudden intelligence.

 

‘With kindest remembrances to dear Mr. Hamilton, and love to

your dear self and your dear ones, believe me, dearest Laura,

your very affectionate

 

‘F. TUCKER.’

 

C. M. T. TO A COUSIN.

 

‘_Jan. 24, 1866._

 

‘Many thanks for your kind sympathy. My sweet consolation

indeed is that my own darling girl sleeps in Jesus. When such a

bright look of “extreme pleasure” lighted up the dear face of

one called away in the bloom of her youth and beauty, was she

not realising her own sweet lines,--

 

“I heard a Voice, ‘a still small Voice,’

Soft whisper, ‘It is well,’

And knew the Saviour of my choice,

Jesus, Immanuel”?’

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Feb. 6, 1866._

 

‘Did I ever tell you that my darling wrote to me when she was

at the Hills, saying that she did not wish me to be altogether

disappointed in regard to her, and asking me whom I would wish

her to try to resemble. I mentioned you,--for I thought that as

her disposition was lively, it would be more easy for her to

try to be like you than dear Fanny; besides she had seen you

as a wife and mother, and I did not know whether the Almighty

might not destine her to be such. He had something “far better”

for my loved one.

 

‘It will interest you to know that G---- (P----‘s _protégée_),

after winning honours at Cambridge, wishes to be baptized as

a Christian. Amy H---- and her husband are to be two of his

witnesses, and he is anxious that dear Henry[11] should be the

third; for it was Henry’s consistent character which first

showed him what Christianity really is.’

 

TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.

 

‘_Feb. 13, 1866._

 

‘I thank you lovingly, dearest Leila, for your letter. I prize

your affection,--you write to me almost as my own darling used

to write. If my health had broken down, so that I could not

have been a comfort to dear Grandmamma and Aunt Fanny here,

I should thankfully have accepted the invitation which you

so affectionately press; but as I keep pretty well, I do not

think that it would be well for me to leave my post at home.

Dear Grandmamma seems to cling to me so,--she is so loving! I

am thankful that she keeps so well. Dear Aunt Fanny was not so

well for two days, but is better again....

 

‘My darling once wrote and asked me whose character I would