choose from among the richest and loftiest of his native place; that no fathers would refuse their daughters, no maidens reject him as a lover. They will make him fond of power and importance; he will connect himself with some mighty family, and forget his poor Mela.”
Thoughts like these tormented her incessantly. The first time she had heard of his prosperity, she hailed it with delight; not because she was ambitious to share so large a fortune, but to gratify her mother, who had never been thoroughly happy since she resigned the wealthy brewer. Mela now almost wished that the prayers which had been offered up for his success had not been heard, and that the traveller’s business had not succeeded, as he would then, perhaps, have proved more faithful.
Her mother was at no loss to discover the cause of her daughter’s melancholy. The report of the late lint merchant’s improved circumstances had reached her; she was aware of Mela’s attachment; and as he was now a busy reputable merchant, and the very model of good order, she could no longer see any reason for his delaying his offer of marriage, if he really wished to possess her. She never mentioned the subject to Mela, in order not to wound her feelings; but the latter, no longer able to conceal her grief, at length confided the source of it to her mother. The old lady, however, only heard what she knew well enough before; though it gave occasion for her to offer her opinion on the subject. Above all, she avoided saying a single word of reproach, being resolved to make the best of everything that could not be helped. In fact, she tried every means she could of consoling her unhappy daughter, teaching her to bear up against her blighted prospects with piety and firmness.
“Dearest child,” she would say, “as you have brewed, you know, so you must bake; you threw away Fortune when she solicited, and you must learn to bear her loss. Experience has shown me that the hope we most count upon is often delusive. Follow my example; listen to it no longer, and endless disappointments will no longer destroy your peace. Look for no favourable change in your fate, and you will soon be contented. It is better to honour our spinning-wheel, which procures us the means of living, than to dream of greatness and wealth, since we have learnt to do without them.” Such philosophical remarks came from the good old lady’s heart, since the failure of her last dear hope connected with the worthy brewer.
But now came a report that Franz was preparing an establishment for the reception of his bride, a rich lady of Antwerp, who was on the point of arriving. This was, indeed, a death-blow to poor Mela’s hopes, and was too much even for her feelings of resignation. She vowed to tear the image of the faithless wretch for ever from her heart, and to dry her tears,—while at the same time they flowed afresh.
