Poor
heart! little food or cultivation had it had in all its life.
For who had been Jacquelina's educators?
First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of blustering
wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his
love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young
ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her
nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately
reprehensible in her conduct.
Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her
destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity,
and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral
welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is
darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious
efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin,
Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she
never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore
the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her,
as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a passion that increased with
ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever.
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