Evelina, or the History of a Young Lady - Page 362/382

He then read aloud from the letter, "Look not like thy unfortunate mother!" "Sweet soul, with what bitterness of spirit hast thou written!-Come hither, Evelina: Gracious Heaven! (looking earnestly at me) never was likeness more striking!-the eyes-the face-the form-Oh, my child, my child!" Imagine, Sir,-for I can never describe my feelings, when I saw him sink upon his knees before me! "Oh, dear resemblance of thy murdered mother!-Oh, all that remains of the most injured of women! behold thy father at thy feet!-bending thus lowly to implore you would not hate him.-Oh, then, thou representative of my departed wife, speak to me in her name, and say that the remorse which tears my soul tortures me not in vain!"

"Oh, rise, rise, my beloved father," cried I, attempting to assist him; "I cannot bear to see you thus; reverse not the law of nature; rise yourself, and bless your kneeling daughter!"

"May Heaven bless thee, my child!-"cried he, "for I dare not." He then rose; and, embracing me most affectionately, added, "I see, I see that thou art all kindness, softness, and tenderness; I need not have feared thee, thou art all the fondest father could wish, and I will try to frame my mind to less painful sensations at thy sight. Perhaps the time may come, when I may know the comfort of such a daughter;-at present I am only fit to be alone: dreadful as are my reflections, they ought merely to torment myself.-Adieu, my child;-be not angry,-I cannot stay with thee;-Oh, Evelina! thy countenance is a dagger to my heart!-just so thy mother looked,-just so-"

Tears and sighs seemed to choak him;-and, waving his hand, he would have left me;-but, clinging to him, "Oh, Sir," cried I, "will you so soon abandon me?-am I again an orphan!-Oh, my dear, my long-lost father, leave me not, I beseech you! take pity on your child, and rob her not of the parent she so fondly hoped would cherish her!"

"You know not what you ask," cried he; "the emotions which now rend my soul are more than my reason can endure; suffer me then, to leave you;-impute it not to unkindness, but think of me as well as thou canst. Lord Orville has behaved nobly;-I believe he will make thee happy." Then, again embracing me, "God bless thee, my dear child," cried he, "God bless thee, my Evelina!-endeavour to love,-at least not to hate me,-and to make me an interest in thy filial bosom, by thinking of me as thy father."