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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4588-0.txt b/4588-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a2da38 --- /dev/null +++ b/4588-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9136 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Allen House, by T. S. Arthur + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Allen House + or Twenty Years Ago and Now + +Author: T. S. Arthur + +Release Date: October, 2003 [Etext #4588] +Posting Date: January 29, 2010 +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ALLEN HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + + + + + +THE ALLEN HOUSE + +OR, TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. + +By T. S. Arthur + +Philadelphia: + +1860 + + + + +PREFACE. + +WE point to two ways in life, and if the young man and maiden, whose +feet are lingering in soft green meadows and flowery walks, will +consider these two ways in sober earnest, before moving onward, and +choose the one that truth and reason tell them leads to honor, success, +and happiness, our book will accomplish its right work for them. It is +a sad thing, after the lapse of twenty years, to find ourselves amid +ruined hopes;--to sit down with folded hands and say, “Thus far life has +been a failure!” Yet, to how many is this the wretched summing up at the +end of a single score of years from the time that reason takes the helm! +Alas! that so few, who start wrong, ever succeed in finding the right +way; life proving, even to its last burdened years, a miserable failure! + + + + + +TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND NOW. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +THE rain had poured in torrents all day, and now, for the third time +since morning, I came home, wet, uncomfortable and weary. I half dreaded +to look at the slate, lest some urgent call should stare me in the face. + +“It must indeed be a case of life and death, that takes me out again +to-night,” said I, as my good wife met me in the entry, and with light +hands, made active by love, assisted in the removal of my great coat and +comforter. + +“Now come into the sitting-room,” she said, “your slippers are on the +rug, and your dressing-gown warmed and waiting. Tea is ready, and +will be on the table by the time you feel a little comfortable. What a +dreadful day it has been!” + +“Dreadful for those who have been compelled to face the storm,” I +remarked, as I drew off my boots, and proceeded to take advantage of all +the pleasant arrangements my thoughtful wife had ready for my solace and +delight. + +It was on my lip to inquire if any one had called since I went out, but +the ringing of the tea-bell sent my thought in a new direction; when, +with my second self leaning on an arm, and my little Aggy holding +tightly by my hand, I moved on to the dining-room, all the disagreeable +things of the day forgotten. + +“Has any one been here?” I asked, as I handed my cup for a third +replenishing. Professional habit was too strong--the query would intrude +itself. + +“Mrs. Wallingford called to see you.” + +“Ah! Is anybody sick?” + +“I believe so--but she evaded my inquiry, and said that she wished to +speak a word with the Doctor.” + +“She don't want me to call over to-night, I hope. Did she leave any +word?” + +“No. She looked troubled in her mind, I thought.” + +“No other call?” + +“Yes. Mary Jones sent word that something was the matter with the baby. +It cried nearly all last night, her little boy said, and to-day has +fever, and lies in a kind of stupor.” + +“That case must be seen to,” I remarked, speaking to myself. + +“You might let it go over until morning,” suggested my wife. “At any +rate, I would let them send again before going. The child may be better +by this time.” + +“A call in time may save life here, Constance,” I made answer; the sense +of duty growing stronger as the inner and outer man felt the renovating +effects of a good supper, and the brightness and warmth of my pleasant +home. “And life, you know, is a precious thing--even a baby's life.” + +And I turned a meaning glance upon the calm, sweet face of our latest +born, as she lay sleeping in her cradle. That was enough. I saw the +tears spring instantly to the eyes of my wife. + +“I have not a word to say. God forbid, that in the weakness of love and +care for you, dear husband, I should draw you aside from duty. Yes--yes! +The life of a baby is indeed a precious thing!” + +And bending over the cradle, she left a kiss on the lips, and a tear +on the pure brow of our darling. Now was I doubly strengthened for the +night. There arose at this instant a wild storm-wail, that shrieked for +a brief time amid the chimneys, and around the eaves of our dwelling, +and then went moaning away, sadly, dying at last in the far distance. +The rain beat heavily against the windows. But I did not waver, nor seek +for reasons to warrant a neglect of duty. “I must see Mary Jones's baby, +and that to-night.” I said this to myself, resolutely, by way of answer +to the intimidating storm. + +Mrs. Jones was a widow, and poor. She lived full a quarter of a mile +away. So in deciding to make the visit that night, I hardly think a +very strong element of self-interest was included in the motives that +governed me. But that is irrelevant. + +“As there is no prospect of an abatement in the storm,” said I, after +returning to our cosy little sitting-room, “it may be as well for me to +see the baby at once. The visit will be over, so far as I am concerned, +and precious time may be gained for the patient.” + +“I will tell Joseph to bring around the horse,” said my wife. + +“No--I will walk. Poor beast! He has done enough for one day, and shall +not be taken out again.” + +“Horse-flesh is not so precious as man-flesh,” Constance smiled +entreatingly, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. “Let Tom be +harnessed up; it won't hurt him.” + +“The merciful man is merciful to his beast,” I made answer. “If +horse-flesh is cheaper than man-flesh, like most cheap articles, it is +less enduring. Tom must rest, if his master cannot.” + +“The decision is final, I suppose.” + +“I must say yes.” + +“I hardly think your great coat is dry yet,” said my wife. “I had it +hung before the kitchen fire. Let me see.” + +“You must wait for ten, or fifteen minutes longer,” she remarked, on +returning from the kitchen. “One sleeve was completely wetted through, +and I have turned it in order to get the lining dry.” + +I sat down and took Agnes on my lap, and was just getting into a +pleasant talk with her, when the door-bell rung. A shadow fell across my +wife's face. + +“People are thoughtless of Doctors,” she remarked, a little fretfully, +“and often choose the worst weather and the most untimely seasons to +send for them.” + +I did not answer, but listened as the boy went to the door. Some one was +admitted, and shown into the office. + +“Who is it?” I enquired, as Joseph came to the sitting-room. + +“Mrs. Wallingford.” + +My wife and I exchanged glances. She looking grave and curious; but no +remark was made. + +“Good-evening, Mrs. Wallingford,” said I, on entering my office. “This +is a very bad night for a lady to come out. I hope no one is seriously +ill.” + +“I wish you would come over and see our Henry, Doctor.” + +There was a choking tremor in her voice; and as I looked in her face, I +saw that it was pale and distressed. + +“What's the matter?” I inquired. + +“I can't say what it is, Doctor. Something's wrong. I'm afraid--yes, I'm +afraid he's going out of his senses.” + +And she wrung her hands together with a nervous uneasiness in singular +contrast with her usual quiet exterior. + +“How is he affected?” + +“Well, Doctor, he came home last evening looking as white as a sheet. I +almost screamed out when I saw the strange, suffering expression on his +colorless face. My first thought was that he had fallen somewhere, and +been hurt dreadfully. He tried to pass me without stopping; but I put +both hands on him, and said--'Oh, Henry! what does ail you?' 'Nothing +of any account,' he answered, in a low, husky tone. 'I don't feel right +well, and am going to my room to lie down.' And saying this, he brushed +right past me, and went up stairs. I followed after him, but when I +tried his door it was fastened on the inside. I called three times +before he answered, and then he said--'Mother, I'm not sick; but I feel +bad and want to be alone. Please don't disturb me to-night.' I don't +think I would have known the voice if it hadn't been just then and +there. Knowing his disposition, anxious and troubled as I was, I felt +that it would be best for the time being to let him alone. And I did so. +For an hour or more all in his room was as still as death, and I began +to grow very uneasy. Then I heard his feet upon the floor moving about. +I heard him walk to his bureau--my ears served me for eyes--then to +the mantlepiece, and then to the window. All was still again for some +minutes. My heart beat like a hammer, as one vague suggestion after +another floated through my mind. Then he crossed the room with a slow +step; turned and went back again; and so kept on walking to and fro. +I listened, waiting for the sound to cease; nut he walked on and on, +backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, tramp, tramp, tramp, +until it seemed as if every jarring footfall was on my heart. Oh, +Doctor! I never had anything to affect me so before in my whole life. An +hour passed, and still he walked the floor of his room. I could bear it +no longer, and went and called to him. But he seemed deaf, and made no +reply. I rattled at the lock and called again and again. Then he came +close to the door, and said, speaking a little impatiently for him-- + +'Mother! Mother! For Heaven's sake don't trouble me! I don't feel just +right, and you must let me alone for the present.' + +“Well, he kept on walking for an hour longer, and then everything was +still in his room for the night. This morning on trying his door it was +unfastened. I went in. He was lying in bed wide awake. But, oh! such a +change as I saw in his face. It was colorless as on the evening before; +but less expressive of emotion. A dead calm seemed to have settled upon +it. I took his hand; it was cold. I pressed his forehead; it was cold +also. 'Henry, my son, how are you?' I asked. He did not reply; but +looked in my face with a cold, steady gaze that chilled me. 'Are you +sick, my son?' He merely shook his head slowly. 'Has anything happened? +What has happened?' I pressed my question upon him; but it was of no +use. He would not satisfy me. I then asked if he would not rise. 'Not +yet,' he said. 'Shall I bring you some breakfast?' 'No--no--I cannot +eat.' And he shook his head and shut his eyes, while there came into his +face a look so sad and suffering that as I gazed on him I could not keep +the tears back. + +“And it has been no better with him all the day, Doctor,” added Mrs. +Wallingford, heaving a long sigh. “Oh, I am distressed to death about +it. Won't you come and see him? I'm afraid if something isn't done that +he will lose his senses.” + +“Have you no conjecture as to the cause of this strange condition of +mind?” I asked. + +“None,” she replied. “Henry is a reserved young man, you know, Doctor; +and keeps many things hidden in his mind even from me that should be +outspoken.” + +“Has he no love affair on hand?” + +“I think not.” + +“Hasn't he been paying attention to Squire Floyd's daughter?” + +“Delia?” + +“Yes.” + +“I believe not, Doctor.” + +“I've seen him at the Squire's.” + +“Nothing serious, or I should have known of it. Henry is rather shy +about the girls.” + +“And you wish me to see him to-night?” + +“Yes. Something ought to be done.” + +“What is his condition just now?” I inquired. “How did you leave him?” + +“He's been in bed nearly all day, and hasn't touched a mouthful. To all +my persuasions and entreaties he answers--'Please, mother, let me alone. +I will be better after a while.'” + +“I think,” said I, after musing on the case, “that, may be, the +let-alone prescription will be the best one for the present. He is +prostrated by some strong mental emotion--that seems clear; and time +must be given for the mind to regain its equipoise. If I were to call, +as you desire, it might annoy or irritate him, and so do more harm than +good. No medicine that I can give is at all likely to reach his case.” + +Mrs. Wallingford looked disappointed, and demurred strongly to my +conclusion. + +“I'm sure, Doctor, if you saw him you might suggest something. Or, may +be, he would open his mind to you.” + +“I'll think it over,” said I. “Mrs. Jones has sent for me to see her +baby to-night. I was just about starting when you called. On my way +back, if, on reflection, it seems to me advisable, I will drop in at +your house.” + +“Call at any rate, Doctor,” urged Mrs. Wallingford. “Even if you don't +see Henry, you may be able to advise me as to what I had better do.” + +I gave my promise, and the troubled mother went back through storm and +darkness to her home. By this time my overcoat was thoroughly dried. As +Constance brought it forth warm from the fire, she looked into my face +with an expression of inquiry. But I was not ready to speak in regard to +Mrs. Wallingford, and, perceiving this at a glance, she kept silence on +that subject. + +As I opened the front door, the storm swept into my face; but I passed +out quickly into the night, and shielding myself with an umbrella, as +best I could, bent to the rushing wind, and took my solitary way in +the direction of Mrs. Jones's humble dwelling, which lay quite upon the +outskirts of our town. To reach my destination, I had to pass the Old +Allen House, which stood within a high stone enclosure, surrounded by +stately elms a century old, which spread their great arms above and +around the decaying mansion, as if to ward off the encroachments of +time. As I came opposite the gate opening upon the carriage way, I +stopped suddenly in surprise, for light streamed out from both windows +of the north-west chamber, which I knew had been closed ever since the +death of Captain Allen, who passed to his account several years before. + +This Allen House was one of the notable places in our town; and the +stories in circulation touching the Allen family, now almost extinct, +were so strongly tinctured with romance, that sober-minded people +generally received them with a large measure of incredulity. + +The spacious old two-story mansion, with its high-pitched roof and rows +of dormer windows, was built by the father of Captain Allen, who had +also followed the sea, and, it was said, obtained his large wealth +through means not sanctioned by laws human or divine. Men and women of +the past generation, and therefore contemporaries, did not hesitate to +designate him an “old pirate,” though always the opprobrious words +were spoken in an undertone, for people were half afraid of the dark, +reserved, evil-looking man, who had evidently passed a large portion of +his life among scenes of peril and violence. There were more pleasing +traditions of the beautiful wife he brought home to grace the luxurious +dwelling he had fitted up in a style of almost princely splendor, +compared with the plain abode of even the best off people in town. Who +she was, or from whence she came, no one knew certainly. She was very +young--almost a child--when the elder Captain Allen brought her to +S----. + +Very little intercourse, I believe, passed between the Allen family and +the town's-people, except in a business way. The first regular entry +made into the house beyond the formal drawing-room, was on the occasion +of a birth, when the best nurse and gossip in town was summoned to +attend the young mistress. A son was born. He was called John; though +not under the sign of Christian baptism--John Allen; afterwards Captain +Allen. The old sea-dog, his father, was absent at the time; but returned +before the infant was four weeks old. The nurse described the meeting +of husband and wife as very lover-like and tender on his part, but with +scarcely a sign of feeling on hers. She did not repel him, nor turn from +him; but received his caresses with the manner of one in whom all quick +emotion had died. And so it continued between them--he thoughtful and +assiduous, and she cold, and for the most part silent. But, to her babe, +the young mother was passionate at times in her loving demonstrations. +The pent up waters of feeling gave way in this direction, and poured +themselves out, often, in a rushing flood. Towards all others she bore +herself with a calm, sweet dignity of manner, that captivated the heart, +and made it sigh for a better acquaintance with one around whom mystery +had hung a veil that no hand but her own could push aside--and that hand +was never lifted. + +The next event in the Allen House, noted by the people, was the birth of +a daughter. The same nurse was called in, who remained the usual time, +and then retired; bearing with her a history of the period, which she +related, very confidentially, at tea-tables, and in familiar gossip with +choice spirits of her own. + +Those who knew her best, were always something in doubt as to which +of her stories contained truth and which romance. The latter element +mingled largely, it is presumed, in all of them. + +A great change had taken place in the Captain's manner. He no longer +played the lover to a cold and distant mistress, but carried himself +haughtily at times--captiously at times--and always with an air of +indifference. All affection seemed transferred to his boy, who was +growing self-willed, passionate, and daring. These qualities were never +repressed by his father, but rather encouraged and strengthened. On +learning that his next heir was a daughter, he expressed impatience, and +muttered something about its being strangled at birth. The nurse said +that he never deigned even to look at it while she was in the house. + +The beautiful young wife showed signs of change, also. Much of the old +sweetness had left her mouth, which was calmer and graver. Her manner +towards Captain Allen, noted before, was of the same quiet, distant +character, but more strongly marked. It was plain that she had no love +for him. The great mystery was, how two so wholly unlike in all internal +qualities, and external seeming, could ever have been constrained into +the relationship, of man and wife. She was, evidently, an English woman. +This was seen in her rich complexion, sweet blue eyes, fair hair, and +quiet dignity of manner. Among the many probable and improbable rumors +as to her first meeting with Captain Allen, this one had currency. A +sailor, who had seen a good deal of service in the West Indies, told the +following story: + +An English vessel from Jamaica, richly freighted, had on board a +merchant with his family, returning from a residence of a few years on +the island, to the mother country. + +They had been out only a day, when a pirate bore down upon them, and +made an easy capture of the ship. The usual bloody scenes of that day +followed. Death, in terrible forms, met the passengers and crew, and the +vessel, after being robbed of its costliest treasures, was scuttled and +sent down into the far depths of the ocean, from whence no sign could +ever come. + +But one living soul was spared--so the story went. An only child of +the English merchant, a fair and beautiful young girl, whose years had +compassed only the early spring-time of life, flung herself upon her +knees before the pirate Captain and begged so piteously for life, +that he spared her from the general slaughter he had himself decreed. +Something in her pure, exquisitely beautiful face, touched his +compassion. There were murmurs of discontent among his savage crew. But +the strong-willed Captain had his way, and when he sailed back with +his booty to their place of rendezvous, he bore with him the beautiful +maiden. Here, it was said, he gave her honorable protection, and had her +cared for as tenderly as was possible under the circumstances. And it +was further related, that, when the maiden grew to ripe womanhood, he +abandoned the trade of a buccaneer and made her his wife. The sailor +told this story, shrugged his shoulders, looked knowing and mysterious, +and left his auditors to draw what inference they pleased. As they had +been talking of Captain Allen, the listeners made their own conclusion +as to his identity with the buccaneer. True to human nature, in its +inclination to believe always the worst of a man, nine out of ten +credited the story as applied to the cut-throat looking captain, and so, +after this, it was no unusual thing to hear him designated by the not +very flattering sobriquet of the “old pirate.” + +Later events, still more inexplicable in their character, and yet +unexplained, gave color to this story, and invested it with the elements +of probability. As related, the old gossip's second intrusion upon the +Aliens, in the capacity of nurse, furnished the town's-people with a few +additional facts, as to the state of things inside of a dwelling, upon +whose very walls seemed written mystery. In the beginning, Mrs. Allen +had made a few acquaintances, who were charmed with her character, as +far as she let herself be known. Visits were made and returned for a +short season. But after the birth of her first child, she went abroad +but rarely, and ceasing to return all visits, social intercourse came to +an end. The old nurse insisted that this was not her fault, but wholly +chargeable upon the Captain, who, she was certain, had forbidden his +wife to have anything to do with the town's-people. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +One day, nearly two years after the birth of this second child, +the quiet town of S----was aroused from its dreams by a strange and +startling event. About a week before, a handsomely dressed man, with the +air of a foreigner, alighted from the stage coach at the “White +Swan,” and asked if he could have a room. A traveler of such apparent +distinction was a rare event in S----; and as he suggested the probable +stay of a week or so, he became an object of immediate attention, as +well as curiosity. + +Night had closed in when he arrived, and as he was fatigued by his +journey in the old lumbering stage coach that ran between the nearest +sea-port town and S----, he did not show himself again that evening to +the curious people who were to be found idling about the “White Swan.” + But he had a talk with the landlord. That functionary waited upon him to +know his pleasure as to supper. + +“The ride has given me a headache,” the stranger said, “which a cup of +tea will probably remove. Beyond that, I will take nothing to-night. +Your name is--” + +“Adams, sir. Adams is my name,” replied the landlord. + +“And mine is Willoughby--Col. Willoughby.” And the Englishman bowed with +a slight air of condescension. + +“I am at your service, Col. Willoughby,” said the landlord in his blunt +way. “Just say what you want, and the thing is done.” + +“A cup of tea will serve me to-night, my friend. Let it be good and +strong; for my head is a little unsettled with this throbbing pain. +That stage coach of yours would be something better for a pair of new +springs.” + +“It's seen service, and no mistake. But people in these parts don't +calculate much on easy riding. Springs are no great account. We look to +the main chance.” + +“What is that?” + +“Getting over the ground.” + +The traveler smiled to himself in a quiet way, as if the landlord's +answer had touched some memory or experience. + +Nothing further being remarked, Mr. Adams retired to order a cup of +tea for his guest. Something about the Englishman had stimulated his +curiosity; and, so, instead of sending the cup of tea by his wife, who +did most of the waiting, he carried it to the room himself. + +“Sit down, Mr. Adams,” said the traveler, after the tea had been put +before him. + +The landlord did not wait for a second invitation. + +“I hope the tea is to your liking, sir.” + +“Excellent. I've not tasted better since I left London.” + +The traveler spoke blandly, as he held his cup a little way from his +lips, and looked over the top of it at his host with something more than +a casual glance. He was reading his face with an evident effort to gain +from it, as an index, some clear impression of his character. + +“My wife understands her business,” replied the flattered landlord. +“There is not her equal in all the country round.” + +“I can believe you, Mr. Adams. Already this delicious beverage has acted +like a charmed potion. My headache has left me as if by magic.” + +He set his cup down; moved his chair a little way from the table at +which he was sitting, and threw a pleasant look upon the landlord. + +“How long have you been in this town, Mr. Adams?” The question seemed +indifferently asked; but the landlord's ear did not fail to perceive in +the tone in which it was given, a foreshadowing of much beyond. + +“I was born here,” he replied. + +“Ah! Then you know all the people, I imagine?” + +“I know all their faces, at least.” + +“And their histories and characters?” + +“Perhaps.” + +Something in this “perhaps,” and the tone in which it was uttered, +seemed not to strike the questioner agreeably. He bent his brows a +little, and looked more narrowly at the landlord. + +“I did not see much of your town as I came in this evening. How large is +it?” + +“Middling good size, sir, for an inland town,” was the not very +satisfactory answer. + +“What is the population?” + +“Well, I don't know--can't just say to a certainty.” + +“Two thousand?” + +“Laws! no sir! Not over one, if that.” + +“About a thousand, then?” + +“Maybe a thousand, and maybe not more than six or seven hundred.” + +“Call it seven hundred, then,” said the traveler, evidently a little +amused. + +“And that will, in my view, be calling it enough.” + +There was a pause. The traveler seemed in doubt as to whether he should +go on with his queries. + +“Not much trade here, I presume?” He asked, at length. + +“Not much to boast of,” said Adams. + +Another pause. + +“Any well-to-do people? Gentlemen who live on their means?” + +“Yes; there's Aaron Thompson. He's rich, I guess. But you can't measure +a snake 'till he's dead, as they say.” + +“True,” said the traveler, seeming to fall into the landlord's mood. +“Executors often change the public estimate of a man as to this world's +goods. So, Aaron Thompson is one of your rich men?” + +“Yes, and there's Abel Reeder--a close-fisted old dog, but wealthy as a +Jew, and no mistake. Then there is Captain Allen.” + +A flash of interest went over the stranger's face, which was turned at +once from the light. + +“Captain Allen! And what of him?” The voice was pitched to a lower tone; +but there was no appearance of special curiosity. + +“A great deal of him.” The landlord put on a knowing look. + +“Is he a sea captain?” + +“Yes;” and lowering his voice, “something else besides, if we are to +credit people who pretend to know.” + +“Ah! but you speak in riddles, Mr. Adams. What do you mean by something +more?” + +“Why, the fact is, Mr. Willoughby, they do say, that he got his money in +a backhanded sort of fashion.” + +“By gambling?” + +“No, sir! By piracy!” + +Col. Willoughby gave a real or affected start. + +“A grave charge that, sir.” He looked steadily at the landlord. “And one +that should not be lightly made.” + +“I only report the common talk.” + +“If such talk should reach the ears of Captain Allen?” suggested the +stranger. + +“No great likelihood of its doing so, for I reckon there's no man in +S----bold enough to say 'pirate' to his face.” + +“What kind of a man is he?” + +“A bad specimen in every way.” + +“He's no favorite of yours, I see?” + +“I have no personal cause of dislike. We never had many words together,” + said the landlord. “But he's a man that you want to get as far away from +as possible. There are men, you know, who kind of draw you towards them, +as if they were made of loadstone; and others that seem to push you off. +Captain Allen is one of the latter kind.” + +“What sort of a looking man is he?” + +“Short; thick-set; heavily built, as to body. A full, coarse face; dark +leathery skin; and eyes that are a match for the Evil One's. There is a +deep scar across his left forehead, running past the outer corner of +his eye, and ending against the cheek bone. The lower lid of this eye +is drawn down, and the inside turned out, showing its deep red lining. +There is another scar on his chin. Two fingers are gone from his left +hand, and his right hand has suffered violence.” + +“He has evidently seen hard service,” remarked the stranger, and in a +voice that showed him to be suppressing, as best he could, all signs of +interest in the landlord's communication. + +“There's no mistake about that; and if you could only see him, my word +for it, you would fall into the common belief that blood lies upon his +conscience.” + +“I shall certainly put myself in the way of seeing him, after the spur +you have just given to my curiosity,” said Col. Willoughby, in a decided +manner, as if he had an interest in the man beyond what the landlord's +communication had excited. + +“Then you will have to remain here something more than a week, I'm +thinking,” replied the landlord. + +“Why so?” + +“Captain Allen isn't at home.” + +There was a sudden change in the stranger's face that did not escape the +landlord's notice. But whether it indicated pleasure or disappointment, +he could not tell; for it was at best a very equivocal expression. + +“Not at home!” His voice indicated surprise. + +“No, sir.” + +“How long has he been absent?” + +“About a month.” + +“And is expected to return soon, no doubt?” + +“As to that, I can't say. Few people in this town I apprehend, can speak +with certainty as to the going and coming of Captain Allen.” + +“Is he often away?” + +“No, sir; but oftener of late than formerly.” + +“Is his absence usually of a prolonged character?” + +“It is much longer than it used to be--never less than a month, and +often extended to three times that period.” + +Colonel Willoughby sat without further remark for some time, his eyes +bent down, his brows contracted by thought, and his lips firmly drawn +together. + +“Thank you, my friend,” he said, at length, looking up, “for your +patience in answering my idle questions. I will not detain you any +longer.” + +The landlord arose, and, bowing to his guest, retired from the +apartment. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +On the next morning Colonel Willoughby plied the landlord with a few +more questions about Captain Allen, and then, inquiring the direction of +his house, started out, as he said, to take a ramble through the town. +He did not come back until near dinner time, and then he showed no +disposition to encourage familiarity on the part of Mr. Adams. But that +individual was not in the dark touching the morning whereabouts of his +friend. A familiar of his, stimulated by certain good things which the +landlord knew when and how to dispense, had tracked the stranger from +the “White Swan” to Captain Allen's house. After walking around it, on +the outside of the enclosure once or twice, and viewing it on all sides, +he had ventured, at last, through the gate, and up to the front door of +the stately mansion. A servant admitted him, and the landlord's familiar +loitered around for nearly three hours before he came out. Mrs. Allen +accompanied him to the door, and stood and talked with him earnestly +for some time in the portico. They shook hands in parting, and Colonel +Willoughby retired with a firm, slow step, and his eyes bent downwards +as if his thoughts were sober, if not oppressive. + +All this Mr. Adams knew; and of course, his curiosity was pitched to a +high key. But, it was all in vain that he threw himself in the way +of his guest, made leading remarks, and even asked if he had seen the +splendid dwelling of Captain Allen. The handsome stranger held him +firmly at a distance. And not only on that day and evening, but on the +next day and the next. He was polite even to blandness, but suffered no +approach beyond the simplest formal intercourse. Every morning he was +seen going to Captain Allen's house, where he always stayed several +hours. The afternoons he spent, for the most part, in his own room. + +All this soon became noised throughout the town of S----, and there was +a little world of excitement, and all manner of conjectures, as to who +this Colonel Willoughby might be. The old nurse, of whom mention has +been made, presuming upon her professional acquaintance with Mrs. Allen, +took the liberty of calling in one afternoon, when, to her certain +knowledge, the stranger was in the house. She was, however, disappointed +in seeing him. The servant who admitted her showed her into a small +reception-room, on the opposite side of the hall from the main parlor, +and here Mrs. Allen met her. She was “very sweet to her”--to use her own +words--sweet, and kind, and gentle as ever. But she looked paler than +usual, and did not seem to be at ease. + +The nurse reported that something was going wrong; but, as to its exact +nature, she was in the dark. It certainly didn't look right for Mrs. +Allen to be receiving daily the visits of an elegant looking stranger, +and her husband away. There was only one opinion on this head. + +And so it went on from day to day for nearly a week--Colonel Willoughby, +as he had called himself, spending the greater part of every morning +with Mrs. Allen, and hiding himself from curious eyes, during the +afternoons, in his room at the “White Swan.” Then came the denouement to +this exciting little drama. + +One day the stranger, after dining, asked Mr. Adams for his bill, which +he paid in British gold. He then gave directions to have a small trunk, +the only baggage he had with him, sent to the house of Captain Allen. + +The landlord raised his eyebrows, of course; looked very much surprised, +and even ventured a curious question. But the stranger repelled all +inquisition touching his movements. And so he left the “White Swan,” + after sojourning there for nearly a week, and the landlord never saw him +again. + +The news which came on the following day, created no little sensation in +S----. Jacob Perkins, who lived near Captain Allen's, and often worked +for him, told the story. His relation was to this effect: About +ten o'clock at night, Mrs. Allen sent for him, and he waited on her +accordingly. He found her dressed as for a journey, but alone. + +“Take a seat, Jacob,” she said. “I wish to have some talk with you.” The +man noticed something unusual in her talk and manner. + +“Jacob,” she resumed, after a pause, bending towards Mr. Perkins, “can +I trust you in a matter requiring both service and secrecy? I have done +some kind things for you and yours; I now wish you to return the favor.” + +As she spoke, she drew out a purse, and let him see something of its +golden contents. + +“Say on, Mrs. Allen. You may trust me. If you ask anything short of a +crime, it shall be done. Yes, you have been kind to me and mine, and now +I will repay you, if in my power to do so.” + +Jacob Perkins was in earnest. But, whether gratitude, or that apparition +of golden sovereigns, had most influence upon him, cannot at this remote +period be said. + +“Can you get a pair of horses and a carriage, or light wagon, to-night?” + +“I can,” replied Jacob. + +“And so as not to excite undue curiosity?” + +“I think so.” + +“Very well. Next, will you drive that team all night?” + +And Mrs. Allen played with the purse of gold, and let the coins it +contained strike each other with a musical chink, very pleasant to the +ear of Jacob Perkins. + +“You shall be paid handsomely for your trouble,” added the lady, as +she fixed her beautiful blue eyes upon Jacob with an earnest, almost +pleading look. + +“I hope there is nothing wrong,” said Jacob, as some troublesome +suspicions began turning themselves over in his mind. + +“Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!” And Mrs. Allen lifted her pale +face reverently upwards. + +“Forgive me, madam; I might have known that,” said Jacob. “And now, if +you will give me your orders, they shall be obeyed to the letter.” + +“Thank you, my kind friend,” returned Mrs. Allen. “The service you are +now about to render me, cannot be estimated in the usual way. To me, it +will be far beyond all price.” + +She was agitated, and paused to recover herself. Then she resumed, with +her usual calmness of manner-- + +“Bring the carriage here--driving with as little noise as possible--in +half an hour. Be very discreet. Don't mention the matter even to your +wife. You can talk with her as freely as you choose on your return from +Boston.” + +“From Boston? Why, that is thirty miles away, at least!” + +“I know it, Jacob; but I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. You +know the road?” + +“Every foot of it.” + +“So much the better. And now go for the carriage.” + +Jacob Perkins arose. As he was turning to go, Mrs. Allen placed her hand +upon his shoulder, and said-- + +“I can trust you, Mr. Perkins?” + +“Madam, you can,” was his reply; and he passed from the quiet house into +the darkness without. The night was moonless, but the stars shone down +from an unclouded sky. When Jacob Perkins found himself alone, and began +to look this adventure full in the face, some unpleasant doubts touching +the part he was about to play, intruded themselves upon his thoughts. He +had seen the handsome stranger going daily to visit Mrs. Allen, for now +nearly a week, and had listened to the town talk touching the matter, +until his own mind was filled with the common idea, that something was +wrong. And now, to be called on to drive Mrs. Allen to Boston, secretly, +and under cover of the night, seemed so much like becoming a party to +some act of folly or crime, that he gave way to hesitation, and began +to seek for reasons that would justify his playing the lady false. Then +came up the image of her sweet, reverent face, as she said so earnestly, +“Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!” And his first purpose was +restored. + +Punctually, at half-past ten o'clock, the team of Jacob Perkins drove +noiselessly in through the gate, and up the carriage-way to the door +of the Allen mansion. No lights were visible in any part of the house. +Under the portico were two figures, a man and a woman--the man holding +something in his arms, which, on a closer observation, Jacob saw to be a +child. Two large trunks and a small one stood near. + +“Put them on the carriage,” said Mrs. Allen, in a low, steady voice; +and Jacob obeyed in silence. When all was ready, she got in, and the man +handed her the sleeping child, and then took his place beside her. + +“To Boston, remember, Jacob; and make the time as short as possible.” + +No other words were spoken. Jacob led his horses down the carriage-way +to the gate, which he closed carefully after passing through; and then +mounting to his seat, drove off rapidly. + +But little conversation took place between Mrs. Allen and her traveling +companion; and that was in so low a tone of voice, that Jacob Perkins +failed to catch a single word, though he bent his ear and listened with +the closest attention whenever he heard a murmur of voices. + +It was after daylight when they arrived in Boston, where Jacob Perkins +left them, and returned home with all speed, to wake up the town of +S----with a report of his strange adventure. Before parting with Mrs. +Allen, she gave him a purse, which, on examination, was found to contain +a hundred dollars in gold. She also placed in his hand a small gold +locket, and said, impressively, while her almost colorless lips +quivered, and her bosom struggled with its pent up feelings-- + +“Jacob, when my son--he is now absent with his father--reaches his tenth +year, give him this, and say that it is a gift from his mother, and +contains a lock of her hair. Can I trust you faithfully to perform this +office of love?” + +Tears filled her eyes; then her breast heaved with a great sob. + +“As Heaven is my witness, madam,” answered Jacob Perkins, “it shall be +done.” + +“Remember,” she said, “that you are only to give this to John, and not +until his tenth year. Keep my gift sacred from the knowledge of every +one until that time, and then let the communication be to him alone.” + +Jacob Perkins promised to do according to her wishes, and then left her +looking so pale, sad, and miserable, that, to use his own words, “he +never could recall her image as she stood looking, not at him, but past +him, as if trying to explore the future, without thinking of some marble +statue in a grave-yard.” + +She was never seen in S----again. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The excitement in the little town of S----, when Jacob returned from +Boston, and told his singular story, may well be imagined. The whole +community was in a buzz. + +It was found that Mrs. Allen had so arranged matters, as to get all +the servants away from the house, on one pretence or another, for +that night, except an old negro woman, famous for her good sleeping +qualities; and she was in the land of forgetfulness long before the hour +appointed for flight. + +Many conjectures were made, and one or two rather philanthropic +individuals proposed, as a common duty, an attempt to arrest the +fugitives and bring them back. But there were none to second this, the +general sentiment being, that Captain Allen was fully competent to look +after his own affairs. And that he wood look after them, and promptly +too, on his return, none doubted for an instant. As for Jacob Perkins, +no one professed a willingness to stand in his shoes. The fire-eating +Captain would most probably blow that gentleman's brains out in the +heat of his first excitement. Poor Jacob, not a very courageous man, +was almost beside himself with fear, when his view of the case was +confidently asserted. One advised this course of conduct on the part of +Jacob, and another advised that, while all agreed that it would on no +account be safe for him to fall in the Captain's way immediately on his +return. More than a dozen people, friends of Jacob, were on the alert, +to give him the earliest intelligence of Captain Allen's arrival in +S----, that he might hide himself until the first fearful outbreak of +passion was over. + +Well, in about two weeks the Captain returned with his little son. +Expectation was on tip-toe. People's hearts beat in their mouths. There +were some who would not have been surprised at any startling occurrence; +an apparition of the scarred sea-dog, rushing along the streets, +slashing his sword about like a madman, would have seemed to them +nothing extraordinary, under the circumstances. + +But expectation stood so long on tip-toe that it grew tired, and came +down a few inches. Nothing occurred to arouse the quiet inhabitants. +Captain Allen was seen to enter his dwelling about two o'clock in the +afternoon, and although not less than twenty sharp pairs of eyes were +turned in that direction, and never abated their vigilance until night +drew down her curtains, no one got even a glimpse of his person. + +Jacob Perkins left the town, and took refuge with a neighbor living two +miles away, on the first intimation of the Captain's return. + +The next day passed, but no one saw the Captain. On the third day a +member of the inquisitorial committee, who had his house under constant +observation, saw him drive out with his son, and take the road that +went direct to the neighborhood where Jacob Perkins lay concealed in the +house of a friend. + +Poor Jacob! None doubted but the hour of retribution for him was at +hand. That he might have timely warning, if possible, a lad was sent +out on a fleet horse, who managed to go by Captain Allen's chaise on the +road. Pale with affright, the unhappy fugitive hid himself under a hay +rick, and remained there for an hour. But the Captain passed through +without pause or inquiry, and in due course of time returned to his +home, having committed no act in the least degree notable. + +And so, as if nothing unusual had happened, he was seen, day after day, +going about as of old, with not a sign of change in his deportment that +any one could read. In a week, Jacob Perkins returned to his home, fully +assured that no harm was likely to visit him. + +No event touching Captain Allen or his family, worthy of record, +transpired for several years. The only servants in the house were negro +slaves, brought from a distance, and kept as much as possible away from +others of their class in town. Among these, the boy, John, grew up. When +he was ten years old, Jacob Perkins, though in some fear, performed the +sacred duty promised to his mother on that memorable morning, when he +looked upon her pale, statuesque countenance for the last time. A flush +covered the boy's face, as he received the locket, and understood from +whence it came. He stood for some minutes, wholly abstracted, as if +under the spell of some vivid memory. + +Tears at length filled his eyes, and glistened on the long fringed +lashes. Then there was a single, half-repressed sob--and then, grasping +the locket tightly in his hand, he turned from Jacob, and, without a +word, walked hastily away. + +When the boy was sixteen, Captain Allen took him to sea. From that +period for many years, both of them were absent for at least two-thirds +of the time. At twenty-five, John took command of a large merchant-man, +trading to the South American coast, and his father, now worn down by +hard service, as well as by years, retired to his home in S----, to +close up there, in such repose of mind as he could gain, the last days +of his eventful life. He died soon after by apoplexy. + +Prior to this event, his son, the younger Captain Allen, had brought +home from Cuba a Spanish woman, who took the name of his wife. Of her +family, or antecedents, no one in our town knew anything; and it was +questioned by many whether any rite of marriage had ever been celebrated +between them. Of this, however, nothing certain was known. None of the +best people, so called, in S----paid her the hospitable compliment of a +visit; and she showed no disposition to intrude herself upon them. +And so they stood towards each other as strangers; and the Allen house +remained, as from the beginning, to most people a terra incognita. + +Neither Captain Allen nor his Spanish consort, to whom no children +were born, as they advanced in years, “grew old gracefully.” Both +had repulsive features, which were strongly marked by passion and +sensuality. During the last two years of his life I was frequently +called to see him, and prescribe for his enemy, the gout, by which he +was sorely afflicted. Mrs. Allen also required treatment. Her nervous +system was disordered; and, on closer observation, I detected signs of a +vagrant imagination, leading her away into states verging upon insanity. +She was fretful and ill-tempered; and rarely spoke to the Captain except +complainingly, or in anger. The visits I made to the Allen house, during +the lifetime of Captain Allen, were among the most unsatisfactory of +all my professional calls. I think, from signs which met my eyes, +that something more than bitter words passed occasionally between the +ill-matched couple. + +Late in the day, nearly five years anterior to the time of which I am +now writing, I was summoned in haste to visit Captain Allen. I found him +lying on a bed in the north-west chamber, where he usually slept, in +a state of insensibility. Mrs. Allen received me at the door of the +chamber with a frightened countenance. On inquiry as to the cause of +his condition, she informed me that he had gone to his own room about an +hour before, a little the worse for a bottle of wine; and that she had +heard nothing more from him, until she was startled by a loud, jarring +noise in his chamber. On running up stairs, she found him lying upon the +floor, insensible. + +I looked at her steadily, as she gave me this relation, but could not +hold her eyes in mine. She seemed more uneasy than troubled. There was +a contused wound just below the right temple, which covered, with its +livid stain, a portion of the cheek. A cursory examination satisfied me +that, whatever might be the cause of his fall, congestion of the brain +had occurred, and that but few chances for life remained. So I informed +Mrs. Allen. At the words, I could see a shudder run through her frame, +and an expression of something like terror sweep over her face. + +“His father died of apoplexy,” said she in a hoarse whisper, looking at +me with a side-long, almost stealthy glance, not full and open-eyed. + +“This is something more than apoplexy,” I remarked; still observing her +closely. + +“The fall may have injured him,” she suggested. + +“The blow on his temple has done the fearful work,” said I. + +There was a perceptible start, and another look of fear-almost terror. + +“For heaven's sake, doctor,” she said, rousing herself, and speaking +half imperatively, “do something! Don't stand speculating about the +cause; but do something if you have any skill.” + +Thus prompted, I set myself to work, in good earnest, with my patient. +The result was in no way flattering to my skill, for he passed to his +account in less than an hour, dying without a sign. + +I shall never forget the wild screams which rang awfully through the old +mansion, when it was announced to Mrs. Allen that the Captain was dead. +She flung herself upon his body, tore her hair, and committed other +extravagances. All the slumbering passions of her undisciplined nature +seemed quickened into sudden life, overmastering her in their strong +excitement. So it would have seemed to a less suspicious observer; but I +thought that I could detect the overacting of pretence. I may have +done her wrong; but the impression still remains. At the funeral, this +extravagant role of grief was re-enacted, and the impression was left on +many minds that she was half mad with grief. + +Occasionally, after this event, I was summoned to the Allen House to see +its unhappy mistress. I say unhappy, for no human being ever had a face +written all over with the characters you might read in hers, that was +not miserable. I used to study it, sometimes, to see if I could get +anything like a true revelation of her inner life. The sudden lighting +up of her countenance at times, as you observed its rapidly varying +expression, made you almost shudder, for the gleam which shot across it +looked like a reflection from hell. I know no other word to express what +I mean. Remorse, at times, I could plainly read. + +One thing I soon noticed; the room in which Captain Allen died--the +north-west chamber before mentioned--remained shut up; and an old +servant told me, years afterwards, that Mrs. Allen had never been inside +of it since the fatal day on which I attended him in his last moments. + +At the time when this story opens the old lady was verging on to sixty. +The five years which had passed since she was left alone had bent her +form considerably, and the diseased state of mind which I noticed when +first called in to visit the family as a physician, was now but a +little way removed from insanity. She was haunted by many strange +hallucinations; and the old servant above alluded to, informed me, that +she was required to sleep in the room with her mistress, as she never +would be alone after dark. Often, through the night, she would start up +in terror, her diseased imagination building up terrible phantoms in the +land of dreams, alarming the house with her cries. + +I rarely visited her that I did not see new evidences of waning reason. +In the beginning I was fearful that she might do some violence to +herself or her servants, but her insanity began to assume a less +excitable form; and at last she sank into a condition of torpor, both of +mind and body, from which I saw little prospect of her ever rising. + +“It is well,” I said to myself. “Life had better wane slowly away than +to go out in lurid gleams like the flashes of a dying volcano.” + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +And now, reader, after this long digression, you can understand my +surprise at seeing broad gleams of light reaching out into the darkness +from the windows of that north-west chamber, as I breasted the storm +on my way to visit the sick child of Mary Jones. No wonder that I stood +still and looked up at those windows, though the rain beat into my face, +half blinding me. The shutters were thrown open, and the curtains drawn +partly aside. I plainly saw shadows on the ceiling and walls as of +persons moving about the room. Did my eyes deceive me? Was not that the +figure of a young girl that stood for a moment at the window trying to +pierce with her eyes the thick veil of night? I was still in doubt when +the figure turned away, and only gave me a shadow on the wall. + +I lingered in front of the old house for some minutes, but gaining no +intelligence of what was passing within, I kept on my way to the +humbler dwelling of Mary Jones. I found her child quite ill, and needing +attention. After doing what, in my judgment, the case required, I turned +my steps towards the house of Mrs. Wallingford to look into the case +of her son Henry, who, according to her account, was in a very unhappy +condition. + +I went a little out of my way so as to go past the Allen House again. +As I approached, my eyes were directed to the chamber windows at the +north-west corner, and while yet some distance away, as the old elms +tossed their great limbs about in struggling with the storm, I saw +glancing out between them the same cheery light that met my astonished +gaze a little while before. As then, I saw shadows moving on the walls, +and once the same slender, graceful figure--evidently that of a young +girl--came to the window and tried to look out into the deep darkness. + +As there was nothing to be gained by standing there in the drenching +storm, I moved onward, taking the way to Mrs. Wallingford's dwelling. I +had scarcely touched the knocker when the door was opened, and by Mrs. +Wallingford herself. + +“Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad you've come!” she said in a low, troubled +voice. + +I stepped in out of the rain, gave her my dripping umbrella, and laid +off my overcoat. + +“How is Henry now?” I asked. + +She put her finger to her lip, and said, in a whisper, + +“Just the same, Doctor--just the same. Listen! Don't you hear him +walking the floor overhead? I've tried to get him to take a cup of tea, +but he won't touch any thing. All I can get out of him is--'Mother--dear +mother--leave me to myself. I shall come right again. Only leave me to +myself now.' But, how can I let him go on in this way? Oh, Doctor, I +am almost beside myself! What can it all mean? Something dreadful has +happened.” + +I sat listening and reflecting for something like ten minutes. Steadily, +from one side the room overhead to the other, went the noise of feet; +now slowly, now with a quicker motion: and now with a sudden tramp, that +sent the listener's blood with a start along its courses. + +“Won't you see him, doctor?” + +I did not answer at once, for I was in the dark as to what was best to +be done. If I had known the origin of his trouble, I could have acted +understandingly. As it was, any intrusion upon the young man might do +harm rather than good. + +“He has asked to be let alone,” I replied, “and it may be best to let +him alone. He says that he will come out right. Give him a little more +time. Wait, at least, until to-morrow. Then, if there is no change, I +will see him.” + +Still the mother urged. At last I said-- + +“Go to your son. Suggest to him a visit from me, and mark the effect.” + +I listened as she went up stairs. On entering his room, I noticed that +he ceased walking. Soon came to my ears the murmur of voices, which rose +to a sudden loudness on his part, and I distinctly heard the words: + +“Mother! you will drive me mad! If you talk of that, I will go from the +house. I _must_ be left alone!” + +Then all was silent. Soon Mrs. Wallingford came down. She looked even +more distressed than when she left the room. + +“I'm afraid it might do harm,” she said doubtingly. + +“So am I. It will, I am sure, be best to let him have his way for the +present. Something has disturbed him fearfully; but he is struggling +hard for the mastery over himself, and you may be sure, madam, that he +will gain it. Your son is a young man of no light stamp of character; +and he will come out of this ordeal, as gold from the crucible.” + +“You think so, Doctor?” + +She looked at me with a hopeful light in her troubled countenance. + +“I do, verily. So let your heart dwell in peace.” + +I was anxious to get back to my good Constance, and so, after a few more +encouraging words for Mrs. Wallingford, I tried the storm again, and +went through its shivering gusts, to my own home. There had been +no calls in my absence, and so the prospect looked fair for a quiet +evening--just what I wanted; for the strange condition of Henry +Wallingford, and the singular circumstance connected with the old Allen +House, were things to be conned over with that second self, towards whom +all thought turned and all interest converged as to a centre. + +After exchanging wet outer garments and boots, for dressing gown and +slippers; and darkness and storm for a pleasant fireside; my thoughts +turned to the north-west chamber of the Allen House, and I said-- + +“I have seen something to-night that puzzled me.” + +“What is that?” inquired my wife, turning her mild eyes upon me. + +“You know the room in which old Captain Allen died?” + +“Yes.” + +“The chamber on the north-west corner, which, as far as we know, has +been shut up ever since?” + +“Yes, I remember your suspicion as to foul play on the part of Mrs. +Allen, who, it is believed, has never visited the apartment since the +Captain's death.” + +“Well, you will be surprised to hear that the shutters are unclosed, and +lights burning in that chamber.” + +“Now!” + +“Yes--or at least half an hour ago.” + +“That is remarkable.” + +My wife looked puzzled. + +“And more remarkable still--I saw shadows moving on the walls, as of two +or three persons in the room.” + +“Something unusual has happened,” said my wife. + +“Perhaps Mrs. Allen is dead.” + +This thought had not occurred to me. I turned it over for a few moments, +and then remarked, + +“Hardly probable--for, in that case, I would have been summoned. No; it +strikes me that some strangers are in the house; for I am certain that +I saw a young girl come to the window and press her face close up to one +of the panes, as if trying to penetrate the darkness. + +“Singular!” said my wife, as if speaking to herself. “Now, that +explains, in part, something that I couldn't just make out yesterday. I +was late in getting home from Aunt Elder's you know. Well, as I came in +view of that old house, I thought I saw a girl standing by the gate. +An appearance so unusual, caused me to strain my eyes to make out the +figure, but the twilight had fallen too deeply. While I still looked, +the form disappeared; but, through an opening in the shrubbery, I caught +another glimpse of it, as it vanished in the portico. I was going to +speak of the incident, but other matters pushed it, till now, from my +thoughts when you were at home.” + +“Then my eyes did not deceive me,” said I; “your story corroborates +mine. There is a young lady in the Allen House. But who is she? That is +the question.” + +As we could not get beyond this question, we left the riddle for time +to solve, and turned next to the singular state of mind into which young +Henry Wallingford had fallen. + +“Well,” said my wife, speaking with some emphasis, after I had told her +of the case, “I never imagined that he cared so much for the girl!” + +“What girl?” I inquired. + +“Why, Delia Floyd--the silly fool! if I must speak so strongly.” + +“Then he is really in love with Squire Floyd's daughter?” + +“It looks like it, if he's taking on as his mother says,” answered my +wife, with considerable feeling. “And Delia will rue the day she turned +from as true a man as Henry Wallingford.” + +“Bless me, Constance! you've got deeper into this matter, than either +his mother or me. Who has been initiating you into the love secrets of +S----?” + +“This affair,” returned my wife, “has not passed into town talk, and +will, I trust, be kept sacred by those who know the facts. I learned +them from Mrs. Dean, the sister of Mrs. Floyd. The case stands thus: +Henry is peculiar, shy, reserved, and rather silent. He goes but little +into company, and has not the taking way with girls that renders +some young men so popular. But his qualities are all of the sterling +kind--such as wear well, and grow brighter with usage. For more than a +year past, he has shown a decided preference for Delia Floyd, and she +has encouraged his attentions. Indeed, so far as I can learn from Mrs. +Dean, the heart of her niece was deeply interested. But a lover of +higher pretensions came, dazzling her mind with a more brilliant +future.” + +“Who?” I inquired. + +“That dashing young fellow from New York, Judge Bigelow's nephew.” + +“Not Ralph Dewey?” + +“Yes.” + +“Foolish girl, to throw away a man for such an effigy! It will be a +dark day that sees her wedded to him. But I will not believe in the +possibility of such an event.” + +“Well, to go on with my story,” resumed Constance. “Last evening, +seeing, I suppose, that a dangerous rival was intruding, Henry made suit +for the hand of Delia, and was rejected.” + +“I understand the case better now,” said I, speaking from a professional +point of view. + +“Poor young man! I did not suppose it was in him to love any woman after +that fashion,” remarked Constance. + +“Your men of reserved exterior have often great depths of feeling,” I +remarked. “Usually women are not drawn towards them; because they are +attracted most readily by what meets the eye. If they would look deeper, +they would commit fewer mistakes, like that which Delia Floyd has just +committed.” + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +Delia Floyd was a girl of more than ordinary attractions, and it is +not surprising that young Wallingford was drawn, fascinated, within the +charmed circle of her influence. She was, by no means, the weak, vain, +beautiful young woman, that the brief allusion I have made to her might +naturally lead the reader to infer. I had possessed good opportunities +for observing her, for our families were intimate, and she was +frequently at our house. Her father had given her a good education--not +showy; but of the solid kind. She was fond of books, and better read, I +think, in the literature of the day, than any other young lady in S----. +Her conversational powers were of a high order. Good sense, I had always +given her credit for possessing; and I believed her capable of reading +character correctly. She was the last one I should have regarded as +being in danger of losing a heart to Ralph Dewey. + +In person, Delia was rather below than above the middle stature. Her +hair was of a dark brown, and so were her eyes--the latter large and +liquid. Her complexion was fresh, almost ruddy, and her countenance +animated, and quick to register every play of feeling. + +In manner, she was exceedingly agreeable, and had the happy art of +putting even strangers at ease. It was no matter of wonder to me, as +I said before, that Henry Wallingford should fall in love with Delia +Floyd. But I did wonder, most profoundly, when I became fully assured, +that she had, for a mere flash man, such as Ralph Dewey seemed to me, +turned herself away from Henry Wallingford. + +But women are enigmas to most of us--I don't include you, dear +Constance!--and every now and then puzzle us by acts so strangely out +of keeping with all that we had predicated of them, as to leave +no explanation within our reach, save that of evil fascination, or +temporary loss of reason. We see their feet often turning aside +into ways that we know lead to wretchedness, and onward they move +persistently, heeding neither the voice of love, warning, nor reproach. +They hope all things, believe all things, trust all things, and make +shipwreck on the breakers that all eyes but their own see leaping and +foaming in their course. Yes, woman is truly an enigma! + +Squire Floyd was a plain, upright man, in moderately good circumstances. +He owned a water power on the stream that ran near our town, and had +built himself a cotton mill, which was yielding him a good annual +income. But he was far from being rich, and had the good sense not to +assume a style of living beyond his means. + +Henry Wallingford was the son of an old friend of Squire Floyd's. +The elder Mr. Wallingford was not a man of the Squire's caution and +prudence. He was always making mistakes in matters of business, and +never succeeded well in any thing. He died when his son was about +eighteen years of age. Henry was at that time studying law with Judge +Bigelow. As, in the settlement of his father's estate, it was found to +be wholly insolvent, Henry, unwilling to be dependent on his mother, who +had a small income in her own right, gave notice to the Judge that he +was about to leave his office. Now, the Judge was a man of penetration, +and had already discovered in the quiet, reserved young man, just the +qualities needed to give success in the practice of law. He +looked calmly at his student for some moments after receiving this +announcement, conning over his face, which by no means gave indications +of a happy state of mind. + +“You think you can find a better preceptor?” said the Judge, at last, in +his calm way. + +“No, sir! no!” answered Henry, quickly. “Not in all this town, nor out +of it, either. It is not that, Judge Bigelow.” + +“Then you don't fancy the law?” + +“On the contrary, there is no other calling in life that presents to my +mind any thing attractive,” replied Henry, in a tone of despondency that +did not escape the Judge. + +“Well, if that is the case, why not keep on? You are getting along +bravely.” + +“I must support myself, sir--must do something besides sitting here and +reading law books.” + +“Ah, yes, I see.” The Judge spoke to himself, as if light had broken +into his mind. “Well, Henry,” he added, looking at the young man, “what +do you propose doing?” + +“I have hands and health,” was the reply. + +“Something more than hands and health are required in this world. What +can you do?” + +“I can work on a farm, if nothing better offers. Or, may be, I can get a +place in some store.” + +“There's good stuff in the lad,” said Judge Bigelow to himself. Then +speaking aloud-- + +“I'll think this matter over for you, Henry. Let it rest for a day or +two. The law is your proper calling, and you must not give it up, if you +can be sustained in it.” + +On that very day, Judge Bigelow saw Squire Floyd, and talked the matter +over with him. They had but one sentiment in the matter, and that was +favorable to Henry's remaining where he was. + +“Can he be of any service to you, in your office, Judge--such as copying +deeds and papers, hunting up cases, and the like?” asked the Squire. + +“Yes, he can be of service to me in that way; and is of service now.” + +“You can afford to pay him something?” suggested Squire Floyd. + +“It is usual,” replied the Judge, “to get this kind of service in return +for instruction and office privileges.” + +“I know; but this case is peculiar. The death of Henry's father has left +him without a support, and he is too independent to burden his mother. +Unless he can earn something, therefore, he must abandon the law.” + +“I understand that, Squire, and have already decided to compensate him,” + said the Judge. “But what I can offer will not be enough.” + +“How much can you offer?” + +“Not over a hundred dollars for the first year.” + +“Call it two hundred, Judge,” was the ready answer. + +The two men looked for a moment into each other's faces. + +“His father and I were friends from boyhood,” said Squire Floyd. “He was +a warm-hearted man; but always making mistakes. He would have ruined +me two or three times over, if I had been weak enough to enter into +his plans, or to yield to his importunities in the way of risks and +securities. It often went hard for me to refuse him; but duty to those +dependent on me was stronger than friendship. But I can spare a hundred +dollars for his son, and will do it cheerfully. Only, I must not be +known in the matter; for it would lay on Henry's mind a weight of +obligation, not pleasant for one of his sensitive disposition to bear.” + +“I see, Squire,” answered Judge Bigelow to this; “but then it won't +place me in the right position. I shall receive credit for your +benevolence.” + +“Don't trouble yourself on that score,” answered the Squire, laughing. +“It may be that I shall want some law business done--though heaven +forbid! In that case, I will call on you, and you can let Henry do the +work. Thus the equilibrium of benefits will be restored. Let the salary +be two hundred.” + +And so this matter being settled, Henry Wallingford remained in the +office of Judge Bigelow. The fact of being salaried by the Judge, +stimulated him to new efforts, and made him forward to relieve his kind +preceptor of all duties within the range of his ability. There +came, during the next year, an unusually large amount of office +practice--preparing deeds, making searches, and drawing up papers of +various kinds. In doing this work, Henry was rapid and reliable. So, +when Squire Floyd tendered his proportion of the young man's salary to +his neighbor, the Judge declined receiving it. The Squire urged; but the +Judge said-- + +“No; Henry has earned his salary, and I must pay it, in simple justice. +I did not think there was so much in him. Business has increased, and +without so valuable an assistant, I could not get along.” + +So the way had opened before Henry Wallingford, and he was on the road +to a successful manhood. At the time of his introduction to the reader, +he was in his twenty-third year. On attaining his majority, he had +become so indispensable to Judge Bigelow, who had the largest practice +in the county, that no course was left for him but to offer the young +man a share in his business. It was accepted; and the name of Henry +Wallingford was thenceforth displayed in gilt letters, in the office +window of his preceptor. + +From that time, his mind never rested with anything like care or anxiety +on the future. His daily life consisted in an almost absorbed devotion +to his professional duties, which grew steadily on his hands. His +affection was in them, and so the balance of his mind was fully +sustained. Ah, if we could all thus rest, without anxiety, on the +right performance of our allotted work! If we would be content to +wait patiently for that success which comes as the orderly result of +well-doing in our business, trades, or professions, what a different +adjustment would there be in our social condition and relations! There +would not be all around us so many eager, care-worn faces--so many +heads bowed with anxious thought--so many shoulders bent with burdens, +destined, sooner or later, to prove too great for the strength which now +sustains them. But how few, like Henry Wallingford, enter with anything +like pleasure into their work! It is, in most cases, held as drudgery, +and regarded only as the means to cherished ends in life wholly removed +from the calling itself. Impatience comes as a natural result. The hand +reaches forth to pluck the growing fruit ere it is half ripened. No +wonder that its taste is bitter to so many thousands. No wonder that +true success comes to so small a number--that to so many life proves but +a miserable failure. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +The morning which broke after that night of storm was serene and +beautiful. The air had a crystal clearness, and as you looked away up +into the cloudless azure, it seemed as if the eye could penetrate to an +immeasurable distance. The act of breathing was a luxury. You drew in +draught after draught of the rich air, feeling, with every inhalation, +that a new vitality was absorbed through the lungs, giving to the heart +a nobler beat, and to the brain a fresh activity. With what a different +feeling did I take up my round of duties for the day! Yesterday I went +creeping forth like a reluctant school boy; to-day, with an uplifted +countenance and a willing step. + +Having a few near calls to make, I did not order my horse, as both +health and inclination were better served by walking. Soon after +breakfast I started out, and was going in the direction of Judge +Bigelow's office, when, hearing a step behind me that had in it +a familiar sound, I turned to find myself face to face with Henry +Wallingford! He could hardly have failed to see the look of surprise in +my face. + +“Good morning, Henry,” I said, giving him my hand, and trying to +speak with that cheerful interest in the young man which I had always +endeavored to show. + +He smiled in his usual quiet way as he took my hand and said in return, + +“Good-morning, Doctor.” + +“You were not out, I believe, yesterday,” I remarked, as we moved on +together. + +“I didn't feel very well,” he answered, in a voice pitched to a lower +key than usual; “and, the day being a stormy one, I shut myself up at +home.” + +“Ah,” said I, in a cheerful way, “you lawyers have the advantage of us +knights of the pill box and lancet. Rain or shine, sick or well, we must +travel round our parish.” + +“All have their share of the good as well as the evil things of life,” + he replied, a little soberly. “Doctors and lawyers included.” + +I did not observe any marked change in the young man, except that he +was paler, and had a different look out of his eyes from any that I had +hitherto noticed; a more matured look, which not only indicated deeper +feeling, but gave signs of will and endurance. I carried that new +expression away with me as we parted at the door of his office, and +studied it as a new revelation of the man. It was very certain that +profounder depths had been opened in his nature--opened to his own +consciousness--than had ever seen the light before. That he was more +a man than he had ever been, and more worthy to be mated with a true +woman. Up to this time I had thought of him more as a boy than as a man, +for the years had glided by so quietly that bore him onward with the +rest, that he had not arisen in my thought to the full mental stature +which the word manhood includes. + +“Ah,” said I, as I walked on, “what a mistake in Delia Floyd! She is +just as capable of high development as a woman as he is as a man. +How admirably would they have mated. In him, self-reliance, reason, +judgment, and deep feeling would have found in her all the qualities +they seek--taste, perception, tenderness and love. They would have grown +upwards into higher ideas of life, not downwards into sensualism and +mere worldliness, like the many. Alas! This mistake on her part may +ruin them both; for a man of deep, reserved feelings, who suffers a +disappointment in love, is often warped in his appreciation of the sex, +and grows one-sided in his character as he advances through the cycles +of life.” + +I had parted from Henry only a few minutes when I met his rival, Ralph +Dewey. Let me describe him. In person he was taller than Wallingford, +and had the easy, confident manner of one who had seen the world, as we +say. His face was called handsome; but it was not a manly face--manly in +that best sense which includes character and thought. The chin and mouth +were feeble, and the forehead narrow, throwing the small orbs close +together. But he had a fresh complexion, dark, sprightly eyes, and +a winning smile. His voice was not very good, having in it a kind of +unpleasant rattle; but he managed it rather skillfully in conversation, +and you soon, ceased to notice the peculiarity. + +Ralph lived in New York, where he had recently been advanced to the +position of fourth partner in a dry goods jobbing house, with a small +percentage on the net profits. Judging from the air with which he spoke +of his firm's operations, and his relation to the business, you might +have inferred that he was senior instead of junior partner, and that the +whole weight of the concern rested on his shoulders. + +Judge Bigelow, a solid man, and from professional habit skilled in +reading character, was, singularly enough, quite carried away with his +smart nephew, and really believed his report of himself. Prospectively, +he saw him a merchant prince, surrounded by palatial splendors. + +Our acquaintance was as yet but slight, so we only nodded in passing. +As we were in the neighborhood of Squire Floyd's pleasant cottage, I was +naturally curious, under the circumstances, to see whether the young +man was going to make a visit at so early an hour; and I managed to keep +long enough in sight to have this matter determined. Ralph called at the +Squire's, and I saw him admitted. So I shook my head disapprovingly, and +kept on my way. + +Not until late in the afternoon did I find occasion to go into that part +of the town where the old Allen house was located, though the image +of its gleaming north-west windows was frequently in my thought. The +surprise occasioned by that incident was in no way lessened on seeing a +carriage drive in through the gateway, and two ladies alight therefrom +and enter the house. Both were in mourning. I did not see their faces; +but, judging from the dress and figure of each, it was evident that one +was past the meridian of life, and the other young. Still more to my +surprise, the carriage was not built after our New England fashion, but +looked heavy, and of a somewhat ancient date. It was large and high, +with a single seat for the driver perched away up in the air, and a +footman's stand and hangings behind. There was, moreover, a footman in +attendance, who sprung to his place after the ladies had alighted, and +rode off to the stables. + +“Am I dreaming?” said I to myself, as I kept on my way, after +witnessing this new incident in the series of strange events that were +half-bewildering me. But it was in vain that I rubbed my eyes; I could +not wake up to a different reality. + +It was late when I got home from my round of calls, and found tea +awaiting my arrival. + +“Any one been here?” I asked--my usual question. + +“No one.' The answer pleased me for I had many things on my mind, and +I wished to have a good long evening with my wife. Baby Mary and Louis +were asleep: but we had the sweet, gentle face of Agnes, our first born, +to brighten the meal-time. After she was in dream-land, guarded by +the loving angels who watch with children in sleep, and Constance +was through with her household cares for the evening, I came into the +sitting-room from my office, and taking the large rocking-chair, leaned +my head back, mind and body enjoying a sense of rest and comfort. + +“You are not the only one,” said my wife, looking up from the basket of +work through which she had been searching for some article, “who noticed +lights in the Allen House last evening.” + +“Who else saw them?” I asked. + +“Mrs. Dean says she heard two or three people say that the house was lit +up all over--a perfect illumination.” + +“Stories lose nothing in being re-told. The illumination was confined to +the room in which Captain Allen died. I am witness to that. But I have +something more for your ears. This afternoon, as I rode past, I saw an +old-fashioned English coach, with a liveried driver and footman, turn +into the gate. From this two ladies alighted and went into the house; +when the coach was driven to the stables. Now, what do you think of +that?” + +“We are to have a romance enacted in our very midst, it would seem,” + replied my wife, in her unimpassioned way. “Other eyes have seen this +also, and the strange fact is buzzing through the town. I was only +waiting until we were alone to tell you that these two ladies whom you +saw, arrived at the Allen House in their carriage near about daylight, +on the day before yesterday. But no one knows who they are, or from +whence they came. It is said that they made themselves as completely at +home as if they were in their own house; selected the north-west chamber +as their sleeping apartment; and ordered the old servants about with an +air of authority that subdued them to obedience.” + +“But what of Mrs. Allen?” I asked, in astonishment at all this. + +“The stories about her reception of the strangers do not agree. +According to one, the old lady was all resistance and indignation at +this intrusion; according to another, she gave way, passively, as if she +were no longer sole mistress of the house.” + +Constance ceased speaking, for there came the usual interruption to our +evening _tete-a-tete_--the ringing of my office bell. + +“You are wanted up at the Allen House, Doctor, said my boy, coming in +from the office a few moments afterwards. + +“Who is sick?” I asked. + +“The old lady.” + +“Any thing serious?” + +“I don't know, sir. But I should think there was from the way old Aunty +looked. She says, come up as quickly as you can.” + +“Is she in the office?” + +“No, sir. She just said that, and then went out in a hurry.” + +“The plot thickens,” said I, looking at Constance. + +“Poor old lady!” There was a shade of pity in her tones. + +“You have not seen her for many years?” + +“No.” + +“Poor old witch of Endor! were better said.” + +“Oh!” answered my wife, smiling, “you know that the painter's idea of +this celebrated individual has been reversed by some, who affirm that +she was young and handsome instead of old and ugly like modern witches.” + +“I don't know how that may be, but if you could see Mrs. Allen, you +would say that 'hag' were a better term for her than woman. If the good +grow beautiful as they grow old, the loving spirit shining like a lamp +through the wasted and failing walls of flesh, so do the evil grow ugly +and repulsive. Ah, Constance, the lesson is for all of us. If we live +true lives, our countenances will grow radiant from within, as we +advance in years; if selfish, worldly, discontented lives, they will +grow cold, hard, and repulsive.” + +I drew on my boots and coat, and started on my visit to the Allen House. +The night was in perfect contrast with the previous one. There was no +moon, but every star shone with its highest brilliancy, while the galaxy +threw its white scarf gracefully across the sky, veiling millions of +suns in their own excessive brightness. I paused several times in my +walk, as broader expanses opened between the great elms that gave to +our town a sylvan beauty, and repeated, with a rapt feeling of awe and +admiration, the opening stanza of a familiar hymn:-- + +“The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And +spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim.” + +How the beauty and grandeur of nature move the heart, as if it +recognized something of its own in every changing aspect. The sun and +moon and stars--the grand old mountains lifting themselves upwards +into serene heights--the limitless expanse of ocean, girdling the whole +earth--rivers, valleys, and plains--trees, flowers, the infinite forms +of life--to all the soul gives some response, as if they were akin. + +I half forgot my interest in old Mrs. Allen, as my heart beat responsive +to the pulsings of nature, and my thoughts flew upwards and away as on +the wings of eagles. But my faithful feet had borne me steadily onwards, +and I was at the gate opening to the grounds of the Allen House, before +I was conscious of having passed over half the distance that lay +between that and my home. I looked up, and saw a light in the north-west +chamber, but the curtains were down. + +On entering the house, I was shown by the servant who admitted me, into +the small office or reception room opening from the hall. I had scarcely +seated myself, when a tall woman, dressed in black, came in, and said, +with a graceful, but rather stately manner-- + +“The Doctor, I believe?” + +How familiar the voice sounded! And yet I did not recognise it as +the voice of any one whom I had known, but rather as a voice heard in +dreams. Nor was the calm, dignified countenance on which my eyes rested, +strange in every lineament. The lady was, to all appearance, somewhere +in the neighborhood of sixty, and, for an elderly lady, handsome. I +thought of my remark to Constance about the beauty and deformity of age, +and said to myself, “Here is one who has not lived in vain.” + +I arose as she spoke, and answered in the affirmative. + +“You have come too late,” she said, with a touch of feeling in her +voice. + +“Not dead?” I ejaculated. + +“Yes, dead. Will you walk up stairs and see her?” + +I followed in silence, ascending to the chamber which had been occupied +by Mrs. Allen since the old Captain's death. It was true as she had +said; a ghastly corpse was before me. I use the word ghastly, for it +fully expresses the ugliness of that lifeless face, withered, marred, +almost shorn of every true aspect of humanity. I laid my hand upon +her--the skin was cold. I felt for her pulse, but there was no sign of +motion in the arteries. + +“It is over,” I said, lifting myself from my brief examination, “and +may God have mercy upon her soul!” The last part of the sentence was +involuntary. + +“Amen!” + +I felt that this response was no idle ejaculation. + +“How was she affected?” I asked. “Has she been sick for any time? Or did +life go out suddenly?” + +“It went out suddenly,” replied the lady--“as suddenly as a lamp in the +wind.” + +“Was she excited from any cause?” + +“She has been in an excited state ever since our arrival, although every +thing that lay in our power has been done to quiet her mind and give it +confidence and repose.” + +She spoke calmly, as one, who held a controlling position there, and of +right. I looked into her serene face, almost classic in its outlines, +with an expression of blended inquiry and surprise, that it was evident +did not escape her observation, although she offered no explanation in +regard to herself. + +I turned again to the corpse, and examined it with some care. There was +nothing in its appearance that gave me any clue to the cause which had +produced this sudden extinguishment of life. + +“In what way was she excited?” I asked, looking at the stranger as I +stepped back from the couch on which the dead body was lying. + +She returned my steady gaze, without answering, for some moments. +Either my tone or manner affected her unpleasantly, for I saw her brows +contract slightly, her full lips close upon themselves, and her eyes +acquire an intenser look. + +“You have been her physician, I believe?” There was no sign of feeling +in the steady voice which made the inquiry. + +“Yes.” + +“_I_ need not, in that case, describe to you her unhappy state of +mind. _I_ need not tell you that an evil will had the mastery over her +understanding, and that, in the fierce struggle of evil passion with +evil passion, mind and body had lost their right adjustment.” + +“I know all this,” said I. “Still, madam, in view of my professional +duty, I must repeat my question, and urge upon you the propriety of an +undisguised answer. In what way was she excited? and what was the cause +leading to an excitement which has ended thus fatally?” + +“I am not in the habit of putting on disguises,” she answered, with a +quiet dignity that really looked beautiful. + +“I pray you, madam, not to misunderstand me,” said I. “As a physician, +I must report the cause of all deaths in the range of my practice. If I +were not to do so in this case, a permit for burial would not be issued +until a regular inquest was held by the Coroner.” + +“Ah, I see,” she replied, yet with an air of indecision. “You are +perfectly right, Doctor, and we must answer to your satisfaction. But +let us retire from this chamber.” + +She led the way down stairs. As we passed the memorable north-west room, +she pushed the door open, and said, + +“Blanche, dear, I wish to see you. Come down to the parlor.” + +I heard faintly the answer, in a very musical voice. We had scarcely +entered the parlor, when the lady said-- + +“My daughter, Doctor.” + +A vision of beauty and innocence met my gaze. A young girl, not over +seventeen, tall like her mother, very fair, with a face just subdued +into something of womanly seriousness, stood in the door, as I turned at +mention of her presence. + +A single lamp gave its feeble light to the room, only half subduing the +shadows that went creeping into corners and recesses. Something of a +weird aspect was on every thing; and I could not but gaze at the +two strangers in that strange place to them, under such peculiar +circumstances, and wonder to see them so calm, dignified, and +self-possessed. We sat down by the table on which the lamp was standing, +the elder of the two opposite, and the younger a little turned away, so +that her features were nearly concealed. + +“Blanche,” said the former, “the Doctor wishes to know the particular +incidents connected with the death of Mrs. Allen.” + +I thought there was an uneasy movement on the part of the girl. She did +not reply. There was a pause. + +“The facts are simply these, Doctor,” and the mother looked me steadily +in the face, which stood out clear, as the lamp shone full on every +feature. “From the moment of our arrival, Mrs. Allen has seemed like one +possessed of an evil Spirit. How she conducted herself before, is +known to me only as reported by the servants. From the little they have +communicated, I infer that for some time past she has not been ii her +right mind. How is it? You must know as to her sanity or insanity.” + +“She has not, in my opinion, been a truly sane woman for years,” was my +answer. + +“As I just said,” she continued, “she has seemed like one possessed of +an evil spirit. In no way could we soften or conciliate her. Her conduct +resembled more nearly that of some fierce wild beast whose den was +invaded, than that of a human being. She would hold no friendly +intercourse with us, and if we met at any time, or in any part of the +house, she would fix her keen black eyes upon us, with an expression +that sent a shudder to the heart. My daughter scarcely dared venture +from her room. She so dreaded to meet her. Twice, as she flew past me, +in her restless wanderings over the house, muttering to herself, I heard +her say, as she struck her clenched hand in the air, 'I can do it again, +and I will!'” + +A cold chill crept over me, for I remembered the death of Captain Allen; +and this was like a confirmation of what I had feared as to foul play. + +“There is no trusting one wholly or even partially insane. So we were +always on our guard. Not once, but many times during the few nights +we have spent here, have we heard the door of our chamber tried after +midnight. It was plain to us that it was not safe to live in this way, +and so we had come to the reluctant conclusion that personal restraint +must be secured. The question as to how this could best be done we had +not yet decided, when death unraveled the difficulty.” + +The speaker ceased at this part of her narrative, and lifting from +the table a small bell, rung it. A maid entered. I had never seen her +before. + +“Tell Jackson that I want him.” + +The girl curtsied respectfully, and withdrew. + +Nothing more was said, until a man, whom I recognized at a glance to be +a regularly trained English servant, presented himself. + +“Jackson,” said the lady, “I wish you to relate exactly, what occurred +just previously to, and at the time of Mrs. Allen's death.” + +The man looked bewildered for a moment or two; but soon recovering +himself, answered without hesitation. + +“Hit 'appened just in this way, ma'am. I was a comin' hup stairs, when +I met the hold lady a tearin' down like a mad cat. She looked kind o' +awful. I never saw anybody out of an 'ospital look that way in all my +life before. She 'eld an hiron poker in 'er 'and. As my young lady--” + and he looked towards Blanche--“was in the 'all, I didn't think it safe +for 'er if I let the hold woman go down. So I just stood in 'er way, and +put my harms across the stairs so”--stretching his arms out. “My! but +'ow she did fire up! She stood almost a minute, and then sprung on me as +if she was a tiger. But I was the strongest, and 'olding 'er in my harms +like as I would a mad kitten, I carried 'er hup to 'er room, put 'er +hin, and shut the door. My young lady saw it hall, for she followed +right hup after me.” + +He looked towards Blanche. + +“Just as it occurred,” she said, in a low, sweet fluttering voice. + +“I heard the strife,” said her mother, “and ran up to see what was the +matter. I reached the door of Mrs. Allen's room just as Jackson thrust +her in. He did not use any more violence than was needed in a case of +such sudden emergency. He is strong, and held her so tightly that she +could not even struggle. One wild, fierce scream rent the air, as +he shut the door, and then all was silent as death. I went in to her +instantly. She was on the floor in a convulsion. You were sent for +immediately; but it was too late for human intervention. Jackson, you +can go.” + +The man bowed with an air of deferential respect, and retired. + +“Now, sir,” she added, turning to me, “you have the facts as they +occurred. I have no wish to give them publicity, for they are family +matters, and these are always in their degree, sacred. If, however, you +think it your duty as a physician, to make the matter one of official +investigation, I can have nothing to say.” + +I thought for some minutes before answering. The story, as related by +the servant, I fully credited. + +“Let me see the body again,” said I, coming at length to a conclusion. + +We went up stairs, all three together; but only two of us entered the +chamber of death. As we neared the door, Blanche caught at her mother's +arm, and I heard her say, in a whisper: + +“Dear mamma! spare me that sight again. It is too horrible!” + +“The presence of your daughter is not needed,” said I, interposing. “Let +her retire to her own room.” + +“Thank you!” There was a grateful expression in her voice, as she +uttered these brief words, and then went back, while we passed in to the +apartment where the dead woman was still lying. + +As I looked upon her face again, it seemed even more ghastly than +before; and I could hardly repress a shudder. My companion held a +lamp; while I made as careful an examination as was possible under the +circumstances. I did not expect to find any marks of violence, though +I searched for them about her head, neck, and chest. But, under the +circumstances, I felt it to be my duty to know, from actual search, that +no such signs existed. In every aspect presented by the corpse, there +was a corroboration of the story related by the serving man. It was +plain, that in a fit of half insane, uncontrollable passion, the nice +adjustment of physical forces had been lost. + +“I am fully satisfied, madam,” said I, at length, turning from my +unpleasant task. + +She let her calm, earnest eyes dwell on mine for a few moments, and then +answered, with a softened tone, in which there was just a perceptible +thrill of feeling-- + +“If I were a believer in omens, I should take this sad incident, +following so quickly on our removal to a new country and a new home, as +foreshadowing evil to me or mine. But I do not so read external events.” + +“Between a life like hers, and a life like yours, madam, there can be +no possible nearness; nor any relation between your spiritual affinities +and hers. The antipodes are not farther apart,” said I, in return; +“therefore, nothing that has befallen her can be ominous as to you.” + +“I trust not,” she gravely answered, as we left the room together. + +To my inquiry if I could serve her in any way, in the present matter, +she simply requested me to send a respectable undertaker, who would +perform what was fitting in the last rites due to the dead. + +I promised, and retired. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The appearance, manner, and bearing of the two strangers impressed +me strongly. The elder had evidently moved in refined and cultivated +society all her life. There was about her the air of “a lady, born and +bred”--dignified, calm, easy, and courteous. The daughter was a lovely +blossom on this stately stem--delicate, beautiful, sweet with the odors +of innocence. I see her now as I saw her on that first night of our +meeting--to my eyes a new born vision of loveliness. + +I found Constance awaiting, with curious interest, my return. I was +going right into the heart of this new wonder, and could not fail +to bring back some revelation that would satisfy, in a measure, the +excitement of mind produced by so singular an intrusion of strangers +upon our quiet town. I answered her first look of inquiry by the +words:-- + +“It is over. Another book of life is sealed up here to be opened in +eternity.” + +“Dead! Not dead?” + +“Yes, Constance, Mrs. Allen is dead. Her spirit had passed away before +my arrival.” + +“How did she die?--from what cause?” + +“From what I can learn she died in a fit of passion.” I then related all +that I had seen and heard. + +“But who can they be?” This query came as a natural sequence. “What +right have they in the Allen House?” + +“Whoever they may be,” I replied, “they act, or, at least, the elder +of the two ladies acts as if her right there was not even open to a +question. And, perhaps, it is not.” + +“But what can they be to the Allens?” + +“I will give you,” said I, “the benefit of my guessing on the subject. +You recollect the story told about Captain Allen's mother; how she went +off a great many years ago with a stranger--an Englishman.” + +Constance remembered all about this family history, for it was the +romance of our town. + +“My conclusion is that this lady is the sister of Captain Allen--the +child that his mother took with her when she fled from her husband's +house. I am strengthened in this belief from the first impression of her +voice, as if the tones had in them something familiar.” + +We talked this matter over, looking at it in every way, until we +satisfied ourselves that my conjectures must be true. The quiet manner +in which they had intruded themselves, and taken possession of the +house--unheralded as far as we knew--could not but present itself to our +minds as a matter of special wonder. The more we conned it over the more +we were puzzled. Before coming home I had called at an undertaker's, and +notified him that his services were wanted at the Allen House. Early on +the next day I took the liberty of calling there myself. I sent up my +name, and awaited, with some interest, my reception. The visit might be +regarded as an intrusion, and I was prepared to receive a message from +the lady asking to be excused. Not so, however. I had been seated only +a few moments, when I heard the rustle of her garments on the stairs. My +first glance at her face assured me that I was no unwelcome visitor. + +“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, as she extended her hand, “for this early +call. Our meeting last night for the first time can hardly be called a +pleasant one--or the associations connected with it such as either of us +might wish to recall.” + +“Our control over events is so slight,” I made answer as I resumed my +seat, “that we should separate unpleasant feelings as far as possible +from any memories connected with them.” + +A faint, sad smile just lightened up her placid face as she said, in +reply to the remark. + +“Ah, Doctor, that may not be. Lives are too intimately blended here for +any one to suffer or do wrong without leaving a burden of sadness on +other memories.” + +“True; but the burden will be light or heavy according to our strength.” + +She looked at me without replying, for the remark was so palpable, that +it seemed to involve nothing beyond a literal fact. + +“Or rather,” I said, “the burden will be heavy or light according to our +state or quality.” + +There was a sign of awakening interest in her countenance as if my +remark had touched some hidden spring of thought. + +“If we are right with ourselves,” I went on, “the disturbance produced +by others' misconduct will not reach very far down. The pressure of +sadness may lie upon us for a season; but cannot long remain; for the +pure heart will lift itself into serene atmospheres.” + +“But, who is right with himself?” she said. “Whose heart is pure enough +to dwell in these serene atmospheres? Not mine, alas!” + +I looked into the suddenly illuminated face as she put these questions, +in surprise at the quick change which had passed over it. But the +tone in which she uttered the closing sentence was touched with tender +sadness. + +“Rather let me say,” I made answer, “_in the degree_ that we are right +with ourselves. None attain unto perfection here.” + +“Yet,” said the lady, with a sweet calmness of manner that made her +look beautiful, “is it not pleasant to imagine a state of perfection--or +rather a state in which evil is quiescent, and the heart active with all +good and loving impulses? How full of inspiration is such an ideal of +life! But the way by which we must go, if we would rise into this state, +is one of difficulty and perpetual warfare. The enemies of our peace are +numbered by myriads; and they seek with deadly hatred to do us harm.” + +“And yet are powerless,” said I, “if we keep the outworks of our lives +in order.” + +“Yes,” she answered, “it is the very ultimate or last things of our +lives where the power of repulsion resides. We can, in temptation, be it +ever so strong, refuse to _act_ in the wrong direction--refuse to do an +evil thing, because it is sinful. And this is our bulwark; this is our +tower of safety; for it is only in _wrong doing_ that our enemies gain +the victory over us. They may assault us never so fiercely--may dazzle +our eyes with the glitter of this world's most alluring things--may +stir the latent envy, malice, pride, or dishonesty, that lurks in every +heart; but if we stand still, hold back our hands and stay our feet--if +we give our resolute 'No' to all enticements, and keep our _actions_ +free from evil, all hell cannot prevail against us. God will take care +of the interior of our lives, and make them pure and heavenly, if we +resist evil in the exterior. But, pardon me; I did not mean to read you +a homily.” + +She smiled with a grave sort of smile, and then sat silent. + +“I like your way of talking,” said I. There was something about the lady +that put me at ease with her, and I said this without reserve, as if +I were speaking to a friend. “It looks to higher things in life than +people usually regard as worthy of our chief consideration. To most of +us, the outer world offers the highest attractions; only the few turn +inwardly to the more beautiful world of mind.” + +“Outward things fade--change--die; only spiritual things dwell in +unfading beauty. We are in a world of mere effects as to our bodies; +but the soul lives in the world of causes. Do we not spend a vain +and unprofitable life, then, if we go on building, day after day, our +tabernacle on the ever-shifting sands of time, instead of upon the +immovable Rock of Ages? But who is guiltless of this folly? Not I! not +I!” + +Again that calm, earnest voice fell to a lower key, and was veiled by a +tender sadness. + +“It is something gained,” she added, with returning firmness of tone, +“if, even after the sharp lessons of many years, we get glimpses of +Truth, and are willing to follow, though it be at a far distance, the +light she holds aloft. Yes, it is something gained--something gained!” + +She spoke the last words as if merely thinking aloud, and not addressing +an auditor. + +“Can I aid you in anything, madam?” said I, breaking in upon a state +of reverie into which her mind seemed to be falling. “The circumstances +under which you find yourself are peculiar--I refer to the death of Mrs. +Allen, following so quickly on your arrival among strangers--and you +may stand in need of friendly service from one who knows the people and +their ways. If so, do not hesitate to command me.” + +“I thank you sincerely,” she answered, unbending still more from +her almost stately manner. “Friendly consideration I shall need, of +course--as who does not in this world? And I repeat my thanks, that +you have so kindly and so promptly anticipated my needs So far as the +remains of my unhappy kinswoman are concerned, I have referred all to +the undertaker. He will carry out my wishes. To-morrow the interment +will take place. On the day following, if it it is altogether agreeable +to yourself, I would esteem a call as a particular favor.” + +I arose, as she concluded the last sentence, saying as I did so, + +“I will be sure to call, madam; and render any service in my power. You +may regard me as a friend.” + +“Already you have extorted my confidence,” she answered, faintly +smiling. + +I bowed low, and was retiring when she said-- + +“A moment, Doctor!” + +I turned toward her again. + +“Doctor, it may be well for you to see my daughter.” + +“Is she indisposed?” I asked. + +“Not exactly that. But the excitement and alarm of the last two or three +days have been, I fear, rather too much for her nerves. I say alarm, for +the poor girl was really frightened at Mrs. Allen's wild conduct--and no +wonder. Death following in so sad a way, shocked her painfully. She did +not sleep well last night; and this morning she looks pale and drooping. +In all probability, quiet of mind and body will soon adjust the balance +of health; still, it may be safest for you to see her.” + +“A mere temporary disturbance, no doubt, which, as you suggest, quiet of +mind and body will, in all probability, overcome. Yet it will do no harm +for me to see her; and may save trouble.” + +“Excuse me a moment,” she said, and left the room. In a little while she +returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs. + +I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a +lounge. She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face, +which subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary +looking. After we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in the +palm, but cold at the extremities. Her pulse was feeble, disturbed, and +quick. + +“How is your head?” I asked. + +“It feels a little strangely,” she replied, moving it two or three +times, as if to get some well defined sensation. + +“Any pain?” + +“Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep into +my head.” + +“What general bodily sensation have you? Any that you can speak of +definitely?” + +“None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness. When I raise my arm, +it seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and wish to be +at rest.” + +“Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now,” + said I. Then addressing her mother, I added--“I think your daughter had +better lie down. Let her room be shaded and kept quiet. She needs rest +and sleep. Sleep is one of nature's great restorers.” + +“Will you make no prescription, Doctor?” the mother asked. + +I reflected on the symptoms exhibited, for a few moments, and then said, + +“Nothing beyond repose, now. I trust that nature, as the pressure is +removed, will work all right again.” + +“You will call in again to-day.” + +“Yes; towards evening I will see your daughter, when I hope to find her +improved in every way.” + +I spoke with a cheerfulness of manner that did not altogether express +my feelings in the case; for, there were some indications, not yet clear +enough for a diagnosis, that awakened slight concern. As I did not wish +to go wrong in my first prescription, I deemed it better to wait a few +hours, and see how nature would succeed in her efforts to repel the +enemy. So I went away, with a promise to call again early in the +afternoon. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +It was between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, when I called +again at the Allen House. An old colored servant, who had been in the +family ever since my remembrance--she went by the name of “Aunty”--was +standing by the gate as I alighted from my chaise. + +“'Deed, massa, Ise glad you come,” said she in a troubled way. + +“Why so, Aunty? No body very sick, I hope.” + +“'Deed, an dar is den; else old Aunty don't know nothin'.” + +“Who?” + +“Why dat blessed young lady what drapped in among us, as if she'd come +right down from Heaven. I was jest a gwine to run down an' ax you to +come and see her right away.” + +I did not linger to talk with “Aunty,” but went forward to the house. +The mother of Blanche met me at the door. She looked very anxious. + +“How is your daughter now?” I asked. + +“Not so well as when you saw her this morning,” she answered. Her voice +trembled. + +“I would have called earlier, but have been visiting a patient several +miles away.” + +“She has been lying in a kind of stupor ever since you were here. What +can it mean, Doctor?” + +The mother looked intently in my face, and paused for an answer, with +her lips apart. But I knew as little as she what it meant. Ah! how often +do anxious friends question us, and hearken eagerly for our replies, +when the signs of disease are yet too indefinite for any clear +diagnosis! + +“I can tell better after seeing your daughter,” said I. And we went up +to the sick girl's chamber; that north-west room, at the window of which +I had first seen the fair stranger, as I stood wondering in storm and +darkness. I found her lying in apparent sleep, and breathing heavily. +Her face was flushed; and I noticed the peculiar odor that usually +accompanies an eruptive fever. + +“How do you feel now?” I asked. + +She had opened her eyes as I took her hand. She did not answer, but +looked at me in a half bewildered way. Her skin was hot and the pulse +small, but tense and corded. + +“Does your head ache?” + +I wished to arouse her to external consciousness. + +“Oh, it's you, Doctor.” + +She recognized me and smiled faintly. + +“How are you now?” I inquired. + +“Not so well, I think, Doctor,” she answered. “My head aches worse than +it did; and I feel sick all over. I don't know what can ail me.” + +“Have you any uneasiness, or sense of oppression in the stomach?” I +inquired. + +“Oh, yes, Doctor.” She laid her hand upon her chest; and drew in a long +breath, as if trying to get relief. + +“Have you felt as well as usual for a week, or ten days past?” I +inquired. + +“No, Doctor.” It was the mother who answered my question. “And in order +that you may understand the case clearly, let me say, that it is only a +week since we arrived from England. We came over in a steamer, and were +fifteen days in making the trip. From Boston, we came here in our own +carriage. Before leaving home, Blanche went around to see a number of +poor cottagers in our neighbourhood, and there was sickness at several +of the places where she called. In one cottage, particularly, was a case +of low fever. I was troubled when I learned that she had been there, but +still hoped that her excellent state of health would repel anything +like contagion. During the first part of our voyage, she suffered +considerably from sea-sickness; but got along very well after that. If +it hadn't been for the unhappy scenes of the last few days, with their +painfully exciting consummation, I think she would have thrown off, +wholly, any lurking tendency to disease.” + +I turned my face partly aside, so that its expression could not be seen. +The facts stated, and the symptoms as now presented, left me in little +doubt as to the nature of the malady against which I had to contend. +Even while her mother talked, my patient fell away into the stupor from +which I had aroused her. + +My treatment of the case coincided with the practice of men eminent in +the school of medicine to which I then belonged. I am not a disciple +of that school now, having found a system of exacter science, and one +compassing more certain results with smaller risk and less waste of +physical energy. + +In order to remove the uneasiness of which my patient complained, I gave +an emetic. Its action was salutary, causing a determination towards the +skin, and opening the pores, as well as relieving the oppression from +which she suffered. + +“How is your head now?” I asked, after she had been quiet for some +minutes. + +“Better. I feel scarcely any pain.” + +“So far, all is right,” said I, cheerfully. + +The mother looked at me with an anxious face. I arose, and we retired +from the room together. Before leaving, I spoke encouragingly to my +patient, and promised to see her early in the morning. + +“My daughter is very sick, Doctor. What is the disease?” The mother +spoke calmly and firmly. “I am not one towards whom any concealments +need be practised; and it is meet that I should know the worst, that I +may do the best.” + +“The disease, madam,” I replied, “has not yet put on all of its +distinctive signs. A fever--we call it the fever of incubation--is the +forerunner of several very different ailments, and, at the beginning, +the most accurate eye may fail to see what is beyond. In the present +case, however, I think that typhoid fever is indicated.” + +I spoke as evenly as possible, and with as little apparent concern as +possible. But I saw the blood go instantly back from the mother's face. + +“Typhoid fever!” she ejaculated, in a low voice, clasping her hands +together. I learned afterwards that she had cause to dread this +exhausting and often fatal disease. “Oh, Doctor! do for her as if she +were your own and only child.” + +She grasped my arm, like one catching at a fleeting hope. + +“As if she were my own and only child!” I repeated her words in promise +and assurance, adding-- + +“The first result of the medicine which I gave is just what I desired. +I will leave something more to be taken at intervals of two hours, until +midnight. In the morning, I hope to find a very encouraging change.” + +“But, Doctor,” she replied, “if this is a case of typhoid fever, no hope +of any quick change for the better can be entertained. I am no stranger +to the fearful malady.” + +“Attacks of all diseases,” I answered to this, “are more or less severe, +according to the nature of the predisposing and exciting causes. So +far as your daughter is concerned, I should think, from the very slight +opportunity I have had of forming an opinion in regard to her, that +she is not readily susceptible of morbific intrusions. Under an unusual +exposure to exciting causes, the balance of health has been overcome. +If my presumption is correct, we have the steady effort of nature, in +co-operation with remedial agencies, working towards a cure.” + +“Do you think the attack light, or severe?” the mother asked, speaking +more calmly. + +“Neither light nor severe; but of a character, judging from the first +impression made upon it, entirely controllable by medicines.” + +This opinion gave her confidence. As I had spoken without any apparent +concealment, she evidently believed the case to stand exactly as I had +stated it. After leaving medicine to be taken, every two hours, for the +first part of the night, I went away. + +In the morning, I found my patient in that comatose state, the usual +attendant upon typhoid fever. She aroused herself on my entrance, and +answered all questions clearly. She had no pain in the head, nor any +distressing symptoms. Her skin was soft and moist. All things looked +favorable. I gave, now, only gentle diaphoretics, and let the case +progress, watching it with the closest attention. In this, I followed my +usual course of treatment as to giving medicines. If I could produce a +reaction, or remove some obstruction, and give nature a chance, I did +not think it wise to keep on with drugs, which, from their general +poisonous qualities, make even well people sick--regarding the struggle +of life with disease as hazardous enough, without increasing the risk by +adding a new cause of disturbance, unless the need of its presence were +unmistakably indicated. + +The course of this fever is always slow and exhausting. My patient sunk +steadily, day by day, while I continued to watch the case with more than +common anxiety. At the end of a week, she was feeble as an infant, and +lay, for the most part, in a state of coma. I visited her two or three +times every day, and had the thought of her almost constantly in my +mind. Her mother, nerved for the occasion, was calm, patient, and +untiring. The excitement which appeared on the occasion of my first +visits, when there was doubt as to the character of the disease, passed +away, and never showed itself again during her daughter's illness. I +saw, daily, deeper into her character, which more and more impressed +me with its simple grandeur, if I may use the word in this connection. +There was nothing trifling, mean, or unwomanly about her. Her mind +seemed to rest with a profoundly rational, and at the same time +child-like trust, in Providence. Fear did not unnerve her, nor anxiety +stay her hands in any thing. She met me, at every visit, with dignified +self-possession, and received my report of the case, each time, without +visible emotion. I had not attempted to deceive her in any thing from +the beginning; she had seen this, and the fact gave her confidence in +all my statements touching her daughter's condition. + +At the end of a week, I commenced giving stimulants, selecting, as the +chief article, sound old Maderia wine. The effect was soon apparent, +in a firmer pulse and a quickened vitality. The lethargic condition in +which she had lain for most of the time since the commencement of the +attack, began to give way, and in a much shorter period than is +usually the case, in this disease, we had the unmistakable signs of +convalescence. + +“Thank God, who, by means of your skill, has given me back my precious +child!” said the mother to me, one day, after Blanche was able to sit +up in bed. She took my hand and grasped it tightly. I saw that she was +deeply moved. I merely answered: + +“With Him are the issues of life.” + +“And I have tried to leave all with Him,” she said. “To be willing to +suffer even that loss, the bare thought of which makes me shudder. But I +am not equal to the trial, and in mercy He has spared me.” + +“He is full of compassion, and gracious. He knows our strength, and will +not test it beyond the limits of endurance.” + +“Doctor,” she said, a light coming into her face, “I have much to say to +you, but not now. I think you can understand me.” + +I merely bowed. + +“There is one thing,” she went on, “that I have liked in you from the +beginning. I am to you a total stranger, and my presence in this house +is a fact that must awaken many questions in your mind. Yet you have +shown no restless curiosity, have plied me with no leading questions, +have left me free to speak, or keep silence. There is a manly courtesy +about this that accords with my feelings.” + +I bowed again, but did not venture upon mere words of compliment. + +“I am not sure,” said she, “that my name even is known to you.” + +“It is not,” I answered. “You have seemed to avoid any allusion thereto, +and delicacy forbade my asking.” + +“There has been no purposed concealment. My name is Montgomery; and I am +sister to the late Captain Allen.” + +“I had already inferred this relationship.” The remark evidently +surprised her. + +“On what ground could you base such an inference?” she asked, curiously. + +“On traditional ground. The history of this old mansion is familiar +to most persons in S----; and some of the incidents connected with the +family have too strong a tinge of romance about them to easily pass into +oblivion. It is well known to us that Captain Allen had an only sister.” + +“What is it said became of her?” + +“When she was about two years of age her mother carried her off, +sailing, as was believed, to England, of which country she was a +native.” + +“Is the name of the child preserved in this tradition?” + +“Yes. It was Flora.” + +“My own name,” she said. + +“And in person you are identical.” + +“Yes. My mother's early life embraced some dreadful experiences. Her +father and mother, with two brothers and a younger sister, were all +murdered by pirates. She alone was spared, and afterwards became the +wife of a sea captain, who, I fear, was not a man innocent of blood. +On this point, however, my mother was reserved, almost silent. In the +course of time she grew so wretched, as the wife of this man, that +she sent a letter to England, addressed to some remembered relative, +imploring him to save her from a life that was worse than death. This +letter fell into the right hands. A cousin was sent out from England, +and she fled with him. No attempt, as far as we know, was ever made to +follow and regain her She did not live many years afterwards. I grew +up among my relatives, ignorant of her history. My memory of her is +distinct, though she died when I was but eight years old. + +“I married, at the age of twenty-six, an officer in the British army, +one of the younger sons in a titled family, for whom no way in the +world is opened, except through the church or the battle-field. General +Montgomery chose the profession of a soldier, not from a love of its +exciting and fearful concomitants, but because he had no fancy for the +gown and cassock, and could not be a hypocrite in religion. He went +quite early to British India, and distinguished himself there by many +acts of bravery, as well as by his humane and honorable conduct. So +highly was he regarded by the East India Company, that he was +selected for most important services, and assigned to posts of great +responsibility. He was past thirty years of age when I met him, on the +occasion of one of his visits to England. The attraction was mutual; +and when he returned to Calcutta, I went with him as his wife. Then +came twenty years of a happy married life;--happy, I mean, so far as a +perfect union of souls can make us happy in this world, but miserable, +at times, through intense anxiety for the absent one exposed to fearful +perils. + +“We had three children.” There was a tremor in the voice of Mrs. +Montgomery as she referred to her children. “One only remains.” She +paused, as if to recover herself, and then went on. + +“I lost my husband first. Ten years ago, he fell at the post of duty, +and, while my heart lay crushed and bleeding under the terrible blow, it +leaped with throbbings of pride, as his honored name went sounding from +lip to lip, and from land to land. I had not the sad pleasure of being +with him in that last time. For the sake of our children, I was residing +in England. + +“Troubles rarely come alone. Two years afterwards my oldest son died. My +home was in the family of General Montgomery, where I was treated with +great kindness; but as my income was not sufficient for an establishment +of my own, I felt a sense of obligation that is always oppressive to +one of my nature. This feeling grew upon me daily, and at last began to +haunt me like a constantly re-appearing spectre. It is now about +three years since, in looking over some old letters and papers, I came +unexpectedly upon a document written by my mother--all the evidence as +to this was clear--and addressed to myself. How it should have remained +so long unobserved, and yet in my possession, is one of the mysterious +things which I do not attempt to explain. There is a Providence in +all things, even to the most minute, and I simply refer the fact to +Providence, and leave it there. This document spoke briefly, but with +no special particularity, of her marriage with a Captain Allen, and +settlement in this town. It stated that she had two children, a son and +a daughter, and that in leaving America for England, she had taken her +daughter, but left the son behind. There was no suggestion as to the +use to be made of these facts; but there was such a statement of them as +left their verification, I thought, easy. I turned them over and over +in my mind, and in the end resolved to gain all accessible information +touching the present condition of things. To this end, I sent over +about two years ago, a man of prudence and intelligence, versed in legal +matters, with instructions to obtain all possible particulars in regard +to my brother, his family and estate. He brought back word that my +brother was dead; that he had left no children, and that his widow--if, +indeed, she were ever his legal wife, which seemed to be doubted--was +old, in poor health, and verging towards mental imbecility, if not +insanity. That there was a large and valuable estate, to which I, as +sister of Captain Allen, was undoubtedly the heir. + +“I kept these things, for the time being, to myself, and pondered over +them in some perplexity as to the best course to take. But from these +thoughts, my mind was soon turned by the illness of my oldest daughter. +After a lingering sickness of many weeks, she died. It seemed almost +impossible to arouse myself from the stunning effects of this blow. It +crushed me down more than any previous sorrow, for it fell upon a heart +weakened by pain. It was many months before the discipline of this +affliction awakened me to thoughts of a higher life. Then I began to +rise into serener heights--to see as by an interior vision, to believe +that even our saddest things may fall upon us in mercy. + +“Finally, circumstances of which I need not speak, made me resolve to +leave England, and under legal advice of the highest authority, take +quiet possession of this estate, which is mine.” + +Mrs. Montgomery ceased speaking. + +“Perhaps,” she resumed, after a moment, “it may be as well, all things +considered, that you do not speak of this for the present. I shall, +as soon as my daughter's full recovery gives me time to enter into the +subject, place my affairs in the hands of a safe legal agent, in order +that they may assume due form and order. You can, no doubt, refer me to +the right individual.” + +“I can,” was my reply. “Judge Bigelow, of our town, is the man. I speak +of him with the utmost confidence.” + +“Thank you, Doctor. You lay me under additional obligation,” she said. +“I will, at an early day consult him.” + +Thus closed this deeply interesting interview. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +I attended Blanche Montgomery through her slow convalescence, and had +many opportunities for observing her and her mother closely. The more +intimately I knew them the higher did they rise in my estimation. A +purer, sweeter, truer-hearted girl than Blanche I had never seen. There +was an artlessness and innocence about her but rarely met with in young +ladies of her age. Especially was she free from that worldliness and +levity which so often mars young maidenhood. Her mind was well stored +and cultivated, and she was beginning to use her mental treasures in a +way that interested you, and made you listen with pleased attention when +she spoke on even common-place subjects. Her manners had in them a grace +and dignity that was very attractive. As she advanced towards health her +deportment took on an easy, confiding air, as if she looked upon me as a +true friend. Her smile, whenever I appeared, broke over her gentle face +like a gleam of sunshine. + +Mrs. Montgomery's manner towards me was distinguished by the same +frankness that marked her daughter's deportment. The stately air that +struck me in the beginning I no longer observed. If it existed, my eyes +saw it differently. At her request, when her mind was sufficiently at +ease about her daughter to busy itself with the common affairs of life, +I brought Judge Bigelow to see her, and she placed her business matters +in his hands. The judge was very much struck with her person and manner, +and told me the day after his first meeting with her that she came +nearer to his ideal of a lady than any woman he had ever met; and as +for the daughter she seemed more like a picture he had once seen than a +piece of real flesh and blood. I smiled at the Judge's enthusiasm, but +did not wonder at the impression he had received. + +Other characters in our story now claim attention, and we must turn to +them. After Henry Wallingford had gained the mastery over himself:--the +struggle was wild, but brief--he resumed his office duties as usual, and +few noticed any change in him, except that he withdrew even more than +ever into himself. I met him occasionally, and observed him closely. In +my eyes there was a marked difference in the aspect of his face. It had +an expression of patient suffering at times--and again I saw in it a +most touching sadness. + +The dashing nephew of Judge Bigelow offered himself to Squire Floyd's +daughter in about a week after her rejection of Wallingford's suit, +and was accepted. I became immediately cognizant of the fact through +my wife, who had the news from Delia's aunt, Mrs. Dean. A day or two +afterwards I met her in company with young Dewey, and observed her +closely. Alas! In my eyes the work of moral retrocession had already +begun. She was gay and chatty, and her countenance fresh and blooming. +But I missed something--something the absence of which awakened a sigh +of regret. Ralph was very lover-like in his deportment, fluttering about +Delia, complimenting her, and showing her many obtrusive attentions. But +eyes that were in the habit of looking below the surface of things, saw +no heart in it all. + +Squire Floyd was delighted with his daughter's fine prospects; and he +and Judge Bigelow drew their heads together over the affair in a cosy +and confidential way very pleasant to both of them. The Judge was +eloquent touching his nephew's fine qualities and splendid prospects; +and congratulated the Squire, time and again, on his daughter's +fortunate matrimonial speculation. He used the word which was +significative beyond any thing that entered his imagination. + +A few days after the engagement Ralph Dewey returned to New York. The +wedding-day had not been fixed; but the marriage, as understood by all +parties, was to take place some time during the next winter. + +From that time I noticed a change in Delia. She grew silent in company, +and had an absent way about her that contrasted strongly with her former +social disposition. Young people rallied her in the usual style about +her heart being absent with the beloved one, but I read the signs +differently. It could not but follow, that a soul, endowed like hers, +would have misgivings in view of an alliance with one like Ralph +Dewey. What was there in him to satisfy a true woman's yearnings for +conjunction with a kindred nature? Nothing! He was all outside as to +good. A mere selfish, superficial, speculating man of the world. While +she had a heart capable of the deepest and truest affection. Would he +make the fitting complement to her life? Alas! No! That were a thing +impossible. + +During the few months that preceded this marriage, I often heard its +promise discussed by my wife and Mrs. Dean, neither of whom had any +strong liking for the young New York merchant. + +“It's my opinion,” said Mrs. Dean, as she sat with my wife one evening, +about two months after the engagement had taken place, “that Ralph has +more froth than substance about him. He really talks, sometimes, as if +he had the world in a sling and could toss it up among the stars. As far +as my observation goes, such people flourish only for a season.” + +“If Delia were a child of mine,” said my good Constance, in her earnest +way, “I would a thousand times rather trust her with Henry Wallingford +than with Ralph Dewey.” + +“Yes, and a thousand millions of times,” responded Mrs. Dean. “He is +a man. You know just what he is, and where he is. But, as for this +splashing nephew of Judge Bigelow's--who knows what's below the surface? +Delia's father is all taken up with him, and thinks the match a splendid +one. Sister don't say much; but I can see that she has her misgivings. I +can talk to you freely, you know.” + +“I don't think,” said I, “that Delia has grown more cheerful since her +engagement. Brides expectant ought to feel as happy as the day is long.” + +“More cheerful? Oh, dear, no! She isn't the same that she was at all; +but mopes about more than half of her time. It's just my opinion--spoken +between friends--that she cares, now, a great deal more for Henry than +she does for Ralph.” + +“Do they ever meet?” I inquired. + +“Not very often.” + +“They have met?” + +“Yes, several times.” + +“Have you seen them together?” + +“Oh, yes.” + +“How does she act towards him?” + +“Not always the same. Sometimes she is talkative, and sometimes +reserved--sometimes as gay as a lark, and sometimes sober enough; as +if there were such a weight on her spirits, that she could not smile +without an effort.” + +“Does the fact of his presence make any change in her?” I inquired. +“What I mean is, if she were lively in spirits before he came in, would +she grow serious--or if serious, grow excited?” + +“Oh, yes, it always makes a change. I've known her, after being very +quiet, and hardly having any thing to say, though in the midst of young +company, grow all at once as merry as a cricket, and laugh and joke in +a wild sort of way. And again, when she has been in one of her old, +pleasant states of mind I have noticed that she all at once drew back +into herself; I could trace the cause to only this--the presence of +Henry Wallingford. But this doesn't often happen, for he rarely shows +himself in company.” + +“Is there anything noticeable about Henry when they meet?” I asked. + +“Not to an ordinary observer,” replied Mrs. Dean. “But I look with +sharper eyes than most people. Yes, there is something noticeable. He +always puts himself in her way, but with a kind of forced, resolute +manner, as if the act were a trial of strength, and involved a stern +heart-discipline. And this I think, is just the real state of the case. +He has deliberately and resolutely entered upon the work of unwinding +from his heart the cord which love his thrown around it in so many +intertwisted folds. So I read him. To break it by sudden force, would +leave so many unwound portions behind, that the memory of her might +sadden the whole of his after-life. And so he is learning to grow +indifferent towards her. To search in her for such things as repel, +instead of for those that charm the heart.” + +“A dangerous experiment,” said my wife, “for one who has loved so +deeply.” + +“It would be to most men,” I remarked. “But there is stuff about +Henry--the stuff that strong, persistent, successful men are made of. If +he has begun this work, he will complete it certainly.” + +A few weeks afterwards, I had an opportunity of seeing them together, +and I improved it to observe them closely. It was in a mixed company +at the house of Judge Bigelow. Wallingford came in rather late. I +was conversing with Delia when he entered the room, and we were at an +interesting point in the subject under consideration. I noticed, all at +once, a hesitation and confusion of thought, as her eyes rested, with a +sudden interest, on some object in the room. Glancing around, I saw the +young man. We went on with our conversation, Delia rallying herself, as +I could see, with an effort. But she talked no longer from thought, only +from memory--uttering mere truisms and common-places. She put on more +animation, and affected a deeper interest; but I was not deceived. + +We were still in conversation, when Wallingford joined us. I saw him fix +his eyes, as they met, searchingly upon her face, and saw her eyes droop +away from his. He was fully self-possessed; she not at ease. His mind +was clear; hers in some confusion. I remained some time near them, +listening to their conversation, and joining in occasionally. Never +before had I seen him appear so well, nor her to such poor advantage. +She tried to act a part--he was himself. I noticed, as he led the +conversation, that he kept away from the esthetic, and held her thought +in the region of moral causes; that he dwelt on the ends and purposes +of life, as involving everything. Now and then she essayed a feeble +argument, or met some of his propositions with light banter. But with +a word he obliterated the sophism--and with a glance repressed the +badinage. I think she could never before have so felt the superiority of +this man, whose pure love--almost worship--she had put aside as a thing +of light importance; and I think the interview helped him in the work +upon which he had entered, that of obliterating from his heart all +traces of her image. + +After this interview, they did not draw together again during the +evening. Delia tried to be gay and indifferent; but he acted himself out +just as he was. I did not observe that he was more social than usual, +or that he mingled more than was his wont with the young ladies present. +For most of the time, he kept, as was usual with him, in company and in +conversation with his own sex. + +I could not but pity Delia Floyd. It was plain to me that she was waking +up to the sad error she had committed--an error, the consequences of +which would go with her through life. Very, very far was she from being +indifferent to Wallingford--that I could plainly see. + +During the winter, Ralph came up frequently from New York to visit his +bride to be. As he was the nephew of Judge Bigelow, he and Wallingford +were, as a thing of course, thrown often together during these visits. +It can hardly excite wonder, that Wallingford maintained a reserved +and distant demeanor towards the young man, steadily repelling all +familiarity, yet always treating him with such politeness and respect +that no cause of offence could appear. On the part of Dewey, it may be +said that he saw little in the grave plodder among dusty law books and +discolored parchments, that won upon his regard. He looked upon him as +a young man good enough in his way--a very small way, in his +estimation--good enough for S----, and small enough for a country town +lawyer. He would have put on towards him a patronizing air, and tried to +excite in his mind a nobler ambition than to move in our circumscribed +sphere, if something in the young man's steady, penetrating, +half-mysterious eye had not always held him back: + +“I never can talk with that young associate or yours, uncle,” he would +say, now and then, to Judge Bigelow, “and I can't just make him out. Is +he stupid, or queer?” + +The Judge would smile, or laugh quietly to himself, or perhaps answer in +this wise: + +“I think Henry understands himself. Still waters, you know, run deep.” + +One day in February, on the occasion of a periodical visit to S----, +young Dewey called in at Judge Bigelow's office, and finding Wallingford +alone, sat down and entered into as familiar a talk with him as was +possible, considering how little they had in common. Ralph had a purpose +in view, and as soon as he saw, or thought he saw, Wallingford's mind in +the right mood, said-- + +“I am going to ask a particular favor, and you must not refuse.” + +“If I can serve you in any thing, it will be my pleasure to do so,” was +the ready answer. + +“You know that I am to be married next month?” + +“So I have heard,” replied Wallingford. + +“You will stand my groomsman? Don't say no!” + +He had seen an instant negative in the young man's face. + +“Almost any thing else, but not that!” replied Henry, speaking with some +feeling. He was thrown off his guard by so unexpected a request. + +“Come now, my good friend, don't take the matter so much to heart!” said +Dewey, in a light way. “Plenty of good fish in the sea yet--as good as +ever were caught. You must forgive the girl for liking me the best.” + +“You jest on a grave subject,” said Wallingford, his face growing pale, +but his eyes, a little dilated, riveting his companion's where he stood. + +“No, I am in earnest,” said Dewey, with something in his manner that was +offensive. + +“Jest or earnest, your familiarity is out of place with me,” retorted +Wallingford, with a sternness of manner, that quickened the flow of bad +blood in Dewey's heart. + +“Oh, you needn't take on airs!” replied the other with a sneer of +contempt. Then muttering to himself, yet loud enough to be heard,--“I +didn't suppose the puppy would growl at a familiar pat on the head.” + +This was too much for Wallingford. At another time, he might have borne +it with a manly self-possession. But only an hour before he had met +Miss Floyd in the street, and the look she then gave him had stirred +his heart, and left a tinge of shadowy regret on his feelings. He was, +therefore, in no mood to bear trifling, much less insult. Scarcely +had the offensive words passed Dewey's lips, when a blow in the face +staggered him back against the wall. Instantly recovering himself, +he sprang towards Wallingford in blind rage, and struck at him with a +savage energy; but the latter stepped aside, and let his assailant come, +with stunning force, against the wall at the other side of the office, +when he fell to the floor. + +At this instant, Judge Bigelow came in. + +“Henry! Ralph!” he exclaimed--“what is the meaning of this?” + +“Your nephew insulted me, and in the heat of anger I struck him in the +face. In attempting to return that blow, he missed his aim, and fell +against the wall, as you see.” + +Wallingford spoke without excitement, but in a stern, resolute way. By +this time, Dewey was on his feet again. The sight of his uncle, and +the unflinching aspect of the person he had ventured to insult, had the +effect to cool off his excitement many degrees. + +“What is the meaning of this, young men?” sternly repeated Judge +Bigelow, looking from one to the other. + +“I have answered your question as far as I am concerned,” replied Henry. + +“Ralph! Speak! Did you offer him an insult?” + +To this demand, the nephew replied, with no abatement of his originally +offensive manner-- + +“If he chooses to consider my words as an insult, let him do so. I shall +in no case take them back.” + +“What did you say?” + +There was an imperative force in the Judge's manner. + +Dewey was silent. + +“What did he say,”--Judge Bigelow turned to Wallingford, “that you +should answer it with a blow?” + +“If he is satisfied with the answer,” replied the latter, “the case can +rest where it is. If not, I am ready to meet him on any appeal. I He +will find me no trifler.” + +The Judge turned again to his nephew. + +“Ralph! I insist upon having this matter explained. I know Henry too +well to believe that he would strike you, unless there had been strong +provocation.” + +“Perhaps he regarded it as such; I did not,” said Dewey. + +“If he is satisfied with his chastisement, there is no occasion to press +him farther, Judge.” Wallingford was provoked to this by the young man's +cool impertinence. + +Dewey made a movement as if about to rush upon Wallingford, but the +Judge interposed his body to keep them apart. The appearance of a fourth +party at this juncture, in the person of Squire Floyd, the prospective +father-in-law of one of the belligerents, changed materially the aspect +of affairs. + +“Good-morning, Squire,” said Wallingford, with a quickly assumed +cheerfulness of manner, smiling in his usual grave way. + +Both the Judge and his nephew saw reason to imitate the example of +Wallingford, and thus throw up a blind before the eyes of Squire +Floyd, who thought he perceived something wrong as he came in, but was +afterwards inclined to doubt the evidence of his senses. + +Wallingford retired in a few moments. When he came back to the office an +hour afterwards, he found a note of apology on his table, accompanied +by a request that so unpleasant an incident as the one which had just +occurred, might be suffered to pass into oblivion. No acknowledgment of +this communication was made by the young lawyer. He felt the strongest +kind of repugnance towards Dewey, and could not gain his own consent to +have any intercourse with him. His position, as an associate with +Judge Bigelow, occasionally brought him in contact with his nephew, who +recognized him always in a respectful manner. But Wallingford held him +ever coldly at a distance. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +The marriage of Delia Floyd was an event in our quiet town. It was +celebrated at the house of her father, in the presence of a large +company, who were invited to witness the ceremony, and take part in +the attendant festivities. The match was regarded generally as a most +desirable one for the young lady; and there was more than one mother +present who envied the good fortune which had given such a son-in-law to +Mrs. Floyd. I heard many snatches of conversation, half aside, in which +marvelous things were related, or suggested, touching the bridegroom's +fortune and the splendid home he had prepared for his bride. He was +looked upon as a prospective millionaire, and imagination pictured Delia +as the jeweled mistress of a palace home. Few seemed to think of any +thing beyond the promised worldly advantage. + +“I am glad that your daughter has married so well.” + +“Let me congratulate you, Squire Floyd, on this splendid match.” + +“It is not often, Mrs. Floyd, that a mother sees her daughter go forth +into the world with such brilliant prospects.” + +“You have all that your heart can desire, so far as Delia is concerned, +Mrs. Floyd.” + +“You are the envy of mothers.” + +And so I heard the changes rung on all sides of me, and from the lips of +people who might have looked deeper if they had taken the trouble to use +their eyes. + +To me, the wedding was full of sad suggestions. It was one of those +social self-sacrifices, as common now as then, in which the victim +goes self-impelled to the altar, and lays upon its consuming fires the +richest dower of womanhood. + +I listened to the vows that were made on this occasion, and felt a low +thrill of repulsion as words of such solemn import trembled on the air, +for too well I knew that a union of souls in a true marriage, such as +Delia Floyd might consummate, was impossible here. Could she be happy +in this marriage? I gave to my own question an emphatic “No!” She might +have a gay, brilliant, exciting life; but to that deep peace which is +given to loving hearts, and which, in hours of isolation and loneliness, +she would desire with an irrepressible longing, she must forever be a +stranger. + +I looked into her beautiful young face as she stood receiving the +congratulations of friends, and felt as I had never felt before on such +an occasion. Instinctively my thought ran questioning along the future. +But no hopeful answer was returned. How was she to advance in that +inner-life development through which the true woman is perfected? I +pushed the question aside. It was too painful. Had she been one of +the great company of almost soulless women--if I may use such strong +language--who pass, yearly, through legal forms into the mere semblance +of a marriage, I might have looked on with indifference, for then, the +realization would, in all probability, be equal to the promise. But +Delia Floyd was of a different spiritual organization. She had higher +capabilities and nobler aspirations; and if the one found no true sphere +of development, while the other was doomed to beat its wings vainly +amid the lower atmospheres of life, was happiness in the case even a +possibility? + +Among the guests was Wallingford. It was six months, almost to a day, +since the dearest hope in life he had ever cherished went suddenly out, +and left him, for a season, in the darkness of despair. I did not expect +to see him on this occasion; and there was another, I think, who as +little anticipated his presence--I mean the bride. But he had shared in +the invitations, and came up to witness the sacrifice. To see, what a +few months before was to him the most precious thing in life, pass into +the full possession of another. Had not the fine gold grown dim in his +eyes? It had--dim with the tarnish that better natures receive when they +consent to dwell with inferior spirits, and breathe in an atmosphere +loaded with earthly exhalations. It would have been the highest delight +of his life to have ascended with her into the pure regions, where +thought builds tabernacles and establishes its dwelling-places. To have +walked onward, side by side, in a dear life companionship, towards the +goal of eternal spiritual oneness. But she had willed it otherwise; and +now he had come, resolutely, to bear the pain of a final sundering of +all bonds, that his soul might free itself from her soul completely and +forever. + +I first noticed him as the bridal party entered the room, and took their +places in front of the clergyman who was to officiate on the occasion. +He occupied a position that gave him a clear view of Delia's face, while +he was removed from general observation. Almost from the commencement to +the ending of the ceremony his gaze rested on her countenance. His head +was thrown a little forward, his brows slightly contracted, his lips +firmly set, and his eyes fixed as if the object upon which he was gazing +held him by an irresistible fascination. I was so much interested in him +that I scarcely looked at the bride during the ceremony. At last, the +minister, in conclusion, announced the twain to be husband and wife. +I saw Wallingford give a slight start as if a tensely strung chord of +feeling had been jarred. A moment more and the spell was broken! +Every lineament of his countenance showed this. The stern aspect gave +way--light trembled over the softening features--the body stood more +erect as if a great pressure had been removed. + +I noticed that he did not hold back in the excitement of congratulation +that followed the ceremony. I was near him when he took the hand of +Delia, and heard him say--not--“I congratulate you”--but “May your life +be a happy one.” The tone was earnest and feeling, such as a brother +might use to a beloved sister. I held that tone long afterwards in my +memory, studying its signification. It had in it nothing of regret, or +pain, or sadness, as if he were losing something, but simply expressed +the regard and tender interest of a sincere well wisher. And so that +great trial was at an end for him. He had struggled manfully with a +great enemy to his peace, and this was his hour of triumph. + +With the bride's state of mind, as read in external signs, I was far +from being satisfied. Marriage, in any case, to one who thinks and +feels, is a thing of serious import; and even the habitually thoughtless +can hardly take its solemn vows upon their lips without falling into a +sober mood. We are, therefore, not surprised to see emotion put on signs +of pain--like April showers that weep away into sunshine. But in Delia's +face I saw something that went deeper than all this. + +“There is no one here,” said I, taking her hand, and holding it tightly +in mine, “who wishes you well in the future more sincerely than I do.” + +“I know it, Doctor,” she answered, returning the warm grasp I gave her. +Her eyes rested steadily in mine, and saw a shadow in them. + +“We are sorry to lose you from S----. Indeed we cannot afford to lose +you.” + +“She is wanted,” spoke up her young husband a little proudly, “to grace +a wider and more brilliant sphere of life.” + +“It is not the brilliant sphere that is always the happiest,” said I. +“Life's truest pleasures come oftener to quiet home circles even among +the lowly, than to gilded palaces where fortune's favorites reside.” + +“It is not to external condition,” the bride remarked, “that we are to +look for happiness.” I thought her voice had in it a pensive tone, as if +she were not wholly satisfied with the brilliant promise that lay before +her. “You know, Doctor, we have talked that over more than once in our +lives.” + +“Yes, Delia; and it is a truth which we ought never to forget--one that +I trust you and your husband will lay up in your hearts.” + +I turned to the young man desiring my admonition to reach him also. + +“Perhaps I might differ something from this sage conclusion,” he +answered a little flippantly. “As far as I can see, the external +condition has a great deal to do with our happiness. I am very sure, +that if I were situated as some people are whom I know, I would be +miserable. So you see, Doctor, I have my doubts touching this theory of +yours and Delia's.” + +“Time, I think, will demonstrate its truth,” I said, in a graver tone, +and turned from them to give place to those who could talk in a lighter +strain than was possible for me on the occasion. + +During the evening I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with +the bride; but only when she happened to be a little separated from her +husband, towards whom his manner was coldly polite. The two young men, +after the scene in Judge Bigelow's office, only kept up, for the sake of +others, the shadow of acquaintanceship. Between them there was a strong +mutual repulsion which neither sought to overcome. + +As I remarked I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with the +bride. But nothing in his manner indicated any sentiment beyond that of +friendship. He was polite, cheerful, and at his ease. But it was +different with her. She was not at her ease in his company, and yet, +I could see that his attention was grateful--even pleasant. + +The augury was not good. As I read the signs, Delia Floyd, when she +passed from maidenhood to wifehood, departed from the path that led +to happiness in this world. And I said to myself as I pondered her +future--“May the disappointments and sorrows that are almost sure to +come, turn her feet aside into the right way at last!” + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +On the day following, the young husband bore his bride away to grace +the prouder home that awaited her in New York; and affairs in our town +settled themselves down into the old routine. + +During the few months that have passed since the opening of our story, +the only matter that has occurred, of any interest to the reader, at +the Allen House, is the fact that Judge Bigelow has undertaken the +management of Mrs. Montgomery's affairs, and the establishment of her +claim to the possession, as only heir, of the whole of Captain Allen's +property. Some legal difficulties, bearing upon her identification as +his sister, were in the way; and in the effort to remove these, there +had been considerable correspondence with persons in England. + +The first fact to be clearly proved was the solemnization of a marriage +between Mrs. Montgomery's mother and the elder Captain Allen. Next, the +identity of Mrs. Montgomery as her child. No marriage certificate, nor +any record of the fact, as to the exact time and place, were known to +be in existence; and without them, or evidence of a very conclusive +character, the title of Mrs. Montgomery could not be clearly +established. + +This, Judge Bigelow stated to her in the beginning; but, up to this +time, no such evidence had been found. + +Mrs. Montgomery's health was not good, and as she required occasional +medical aid, my visits to the Allen House were continued. The more +intimately I came to know this lady, the higher did she rise in my +esteem. She united strength of mind with clearness of perception: and +decision of character with prudence and justice. She had, likewise, a +depth and tenderness of feeling that often exhibited itself in beautiful +incidents. The dignity of manner, which at first seemed touched with +hauteur, now only gave grace to her fine proportions. + +She had, from the beginning, spoken to me without reserve of her +affairs, in which I naturally took deep interest. One day she said:-- + +“Doctor, I wish to get your opinion in regard to an individual whom +Judge Bigelow proposes to send out to England for me on important +business. He is a young man, associated with him, as I understand it, +professionally. + +“Mr. Wallingford, you mean?” + +“Yes, that is the name, I believe. Do you know him?” + +“Very well.” + +“Is he prudent, intelligent, and reliable?” + +“I think so.” + +“You only think so, Doctor?” + +“I can speak in stronger terms. As far as one can know another, I am +ready to say that _he is_ prudent, intelligent, and reliable. If I had +important business to transact at a distant point, and needed a trusty +agent, I would select him before any other man in S----.” + +“I wish no better testimony, Doctor, and am glad to know that I can +procure an agent so well qualified.” + +“Have you seen him?” I inquired. + +“No. But Judge Bigelow is to bring him here today, in order that I may +see and converse with him.” + +“You will find him,” said I, “a young man of few words and unobtrusive +manners--but solid as a rock. I have seen him under circumstances +calculated to test the character of any man.” + +“What are the circumstances, if you are free to speak of them?” asked +Mrs. Montgomery. “We get always a truer estimate of a man, when we +see him in some great battle of life; for then, his real qualities and +resources become apparent.” + +I thought for a little while before answering. It did not seem just +right to draw aside the veil that strangers' eyes might look upon a +life-passage such as was written in Wallingford's Book of Memory. The +brief but fierce struggle was over with him; and he was moving steadily +onward, sadder, no doubt, for the experience, and wiser, no doubt. +But the secret was his own, and I felt that no one ought to meddle +therewith. Still, a relation of the fact, showing how deeply the man +could feel, and how strong he was in self-mastery, could not but raise +him in the estimation of Mrs. Montgomery, and increase her confidence. + +“It is hardly fair,” said I, “to bring up the circumstances of a man's +life over which he has drawn a veil; and which are sacred to himself +alone. In this case, however, with the end of enabling you more fully to +know the person you think of sending abroad on an important service, +I will relate an occurrence that cannot fail to awaken in your mind an +interest for the young man, such as we always feel for those who have +passed through deep suffering.” + +Blanche was sitting by her mother. Indeed, the two were almost +inseparable companions. It was a rare thing to find them apart. I saw +her face kindle with an earnest curiosity. + +“Judge Bigelow's nephew was married, recently,” I said. + +“So the Judge informed me. He spoke very warmly of his nephew, who is a +merchant in New York, I think he said.” + +“He is a partner in a mercantile firm there. The bride was Squire +Floyd's daughter; a very superior girl--lovely in character, attractive +in person, and, mentally, well cultivated. I have always regarded her as +the flower of our town.” + +“The young man had good taste, it seems,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +“Better than the young lady showed in taking him for a husband,” said I. + +“Ah? Then your opinion of him is not so favorable.” + +“He was not worthy of her, if I possess any skill in reading character. +But there was one worthy of her, and deeply attached to her at the same +time.” + +“This young Wallingford, of whom we were speaking?” + +“The same.” + +“But she didn't fancy him?” + +“She did fancy him. But--” + +“Was not able to resist the attractions of a New York merchant, when put +in opposition to those of a humble country lawyer?” + +“The truth lies about there. She took the showy effigy of a man, in +place of the real man.” + +“A sad mistake. But it is made every day,” said Mrs. Montgomery, “and +will continue to be made. Alas for the blindness and folly that lead so +many into paths that terminate in barren deserts, or wildernesses where +the soul is lost! And so our young friend has been crossed in love.” + +“The experience is deeper than usual,” said I. Then I related, with some +particularity, the facts in the case, already known to the reader. +Both the mother and daughter listened with deep attention. After I had +finished my story, Mrs. Montgomery said, + +“He possesses will and strength of character, that is plain; but I can't +say that I just like the deliberate process of _un_loving, if I may use +the word, which you have described. There is something too cold-blooded +about it for me. Like the oak, bent under the pressure of a fierce +storm, he comes up erect too soon.” + +I smiled at her view of the case, and answered, + +“You look upon it as a woman, I as a man. To me, there is a certain +moral grandeur in the way he has disenthralled himself from fetters that +could not remain, without a life-long disability.” + +“Oh, no doubt it was the wisest course,” said Mrs. Montgomery. + +“And may we not look among the wisest men, for the best and most +reliable?” I queried. + +“Among those who are truly wise,” she said, her voice giving emphasis to +the word _truly_. + +“What is it to be truly wise?” + +“All true wisdom,” she answered, “as it appertains to the affairs of +this life, has its foundation in a just regard for others; for, in the +degree that we are just to others, are we just to ourselves.” + +“And is not the converse of your proposition true also? In the degree +that we are just to ourselves, are we not just to others?” + +“Undoubtedly. Each individual bears to common society, the same relation +that a member, organ, or fibre, does to the human body, of which it +makes a part. And as no member, organ, or fibre of the body, can injure +itself without injuring the whole man; so no individual can do wrong +to himself, without a consequent wrong to others. Each has duties +to perform for the good of common society, and any self-inflicted or +self-permitted disabilities that hinder the right performance of these +duties, involve a moral wrong.” + +“Then the case is very clear for my friend Wallingford,” said I. “He is +a wise man in your sense of the word--wise, in resolutely putting away +from his mind the image of one who, if she had been worthy of him, would +have taken her place proudly by his side; but, proving herself unworthy, +could never afterward be to him more than a friend or stringer. He could +not hold her image in his heart, and fondly regard it, without sin; for +was she not to be the bride of another? Nor without suffering loss of +mental power, and life-purpose, and thus injuring others trough neglect +of duty. It was acting wisely, then, for him to come up, manfully, to +the work of drawing back his misplaced affections, and getting them +again fully into his own possession. And he has done the work, if I read +the signs aright. All honor to his manhood!” + +“He has, I see, a warm advocate in you, Doctor,” said Mrs. Montgomery, +again smiling. “Still, in an affair of the heart, where so much was +involved, as seemed to be in his case, we can hardly fancy such a +matter-of-fact, business-like proceeding as you have described. He might +well have been forgiven, if he had shown more weakness of character, and +acted even a little unreasonably. I will yield to no one in my regard +for manly firmness and self-control, for bravery and endurance; and +I have seen these qualities put to some of the severest tests. But +in matters of the heart, I must own that I like to see a man show his +weakness. Your Mr. Wallingford is too cool and calculating for me. But +this is irrelevant to our consideration of his qualities as a business +agent. For this purpose, I am satisfied that he is fitted in all things +essential.” + +“And that is quite as far as we need go,” said I. + +“The business in hand,” said Mrs. Montgomery, resuming the conversation +after a pause, “is of great importance to me, and may require not only +a visit to England, but also to the West Indies. Unless evidence of my +mother's marriage can be found, there will be, as you know, considerable +difficulty in establishing my full right to inherit my brother's +property. And my identity as the sister of the late Captain Allen must +also be proved. By the will of my father, which is on record, he +left all of his property to my brother. He, as far as is known, died +intestate. As next of kin, I am the legal heir; but the proof is yet +wanting. My mother's cousin, a Colonel Willoughby, of whom we have +before spoken, came over from England, on the strength of some vague +rumors that reached the family from Jamaica, and was successful in +discovering the only survivor of his uncle's family. She saw it best to +abandon her husband, as you know. My purpose in sending an agent, versed +in legal matters, and used to weighing evidence, is to have such papers +of Colonel Willoughby's as the family possess and will submit for +examination, carefully searched, in the hope that some record may be +found in his hand-writing, sufficiently clear to establish the fact that +my mother was the wife of the elder Captain Allen. So important an event +as that of searching out my mother, and inducing her to flee from her +husband, could hardly have taken place, it seems to me, without evidence +of the fact being preserved. And my hope is, that this evidence, if it +can be found, will prove of great value. So you see, Doctor, that I have +good reasons for wishing to know well the agent who goes abroad with a +matter so vital as this in his hands.” + +I admitted the importance of a thoroughly reliable man to go upon this +mission, and repeated my faith in Wallingford. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +I saw Mrs. Montgomery a few days afterwards, and inquired if she +had seen the young associate of Judge Bigelow. She replied in the +affirmative. + +“How does he impress you?” I asked. + +“Favorably, upon the whole; though,” she added with one of her meaning +smiles, “I can't help thinking all the time about the cool, calculating, +resolute way in which he went about disentangling himself from an +unfortunate love affair. I look at his calm face, over which you rarely +see a ripple of feeling go, and ask myself, sometimes, if a heart really +beats within his bosom.” + +“There does; a true, large, manly heart, full of deep feeling; you may +be sure of this, madam,” I answered, with some warmth. + +“I will not gainsay your words, Doctor. I trust for his sake that it may +be so.” + +“Leaving out the heart matter, and regarding him only as to his fitness +for the work in hand, you are favorably impressed?” + +“Quite so. I find him quick of apprehension, intelligent, and of +sufficient gravity of deportment to ensure a respectful attention +wherever he may go. He made one suggestion that ought to have occurred +to me, and upon which I am acting. As no will has been found, it has +been assumed that Captain Allen died intestate. Mr. Wallingford suggests +that a will may have been executed; and that a thorough search be made +in order to discover if one exists. In consequence of this suggestion, +Blanche and I have been hard at work for two days, prying into drawers, +examining old papers, and looking into all conceivable, and I had almost +said inconceivable places.” + +“And if you were to find a will?” said I, looking into her earnest face. + +“The question would be that much nearer to a solution.” + +“Is it at all probable that it would be in your favor?” + +I saw her start at the query, while her brows closed slightly, as if +from a sudden pain. She looked at me steadily for a few moments, without +speaking; then, after a long inspiration, she said: + +“Whether in my favor or not, any disposition that he has made of his +property, in law and right, must, of course, stand good.” + +“You might contest such a will, if not in your favor.” + +She shook her head, compressed her lips firmly, and said: + +“No. I should not contest the will. My belief was, when I came here, +that he died without making a bequest of any kind, and that his property +would go, in consequence, to the heir-at-law. This was the information +that I received. If it should prove otherwise, I shall make no +opposition.” + +“Do you intend, under this view, continuing the search for a will?” + +Something in the tone of voice touched her unpleasantly. I saw the light +in her eyes glow intenser, and her lips arch. + +“Why not?” she asked, looking at me steadily. I could have given another +meaning to my question from the one I intended to convey, had it so +pleased me, and thus avoided a probable offence. But I wished to see a +little deeper into the quality of her mind, and so used the probe that +was in my hand. + +“If you find a will, devising the property out of your line, all your +present prospects are at an end,” said I. + +“I know it.” + +Her voice was firm as well as emphatic. + +“Then why not take the other horn of this dilemma? Give up searching for +a will that can hardly be in your favor, and go on to prove your title +through consanguinity.” + +“And thus shut my eyes to the probable rights of others, in order to +secure a personal advantage? Do you think I would do this, Doctor? If +so, you have mistaken me.” + +There was a tone of regret in her voice. + +“Pardon me,” I replied. “The suggestion was natural under the +circumstances, and I gave it utterance.” + +“Were you in my place, would you give up the search here?” + +She fixed on me a penetrating look. + +The probe had changed hands. + +“It is difficult,” I answered, “for us to say what we would do if we +were to change places with another. In my experience, it is easy to see +what is right for our neighbor, but very difficult to see the right way +for ourselves, when under the allurement of some personal advantage.” + +“Would it be right in me to give up the search?” + +“I think not.” + +My answer was without hesitation. + +“And I will not,” she said, firmly. “If my brother has devised his +property, I have only to know the terms of his will. If it is against +me, well. I shall not oppose its operation.” + +“It sometimes happens,” I suggested, “that a testator is manifestly +out of his right mind as to the direction given to his property, and +bequeaths it in a manner so evidently unwise and improper, that both +justice and humanity are served in the act of setting aside the will. +And it might prove so in this case.” + +“I know not how that may be,” Mrs. Montgomery answered, soberly, yet +firmly. “But this I do know”--she spoke resolutely--“God helping me, I +will not stain my hands with gold that, in any legal right, belongs to +another. What is clearly mine, I will take and use as it is my right +and duty. But I must be certain that it is mine. If there is no will, I +am clear as to who is the owner of this estate; if there is a will, and +I and mine are not included in its provisions, I will step aside. First, +however, the obligation to search for a will is imperative; and I shall +continue it until clearly satisfied that no such document exists.” + +What a womanly dignity there was in Mrs. Montgomery as she said this, +drawing her tall form up to its full height in speaking--not proudly, +but with conscious integrity! + +“What is right is always best.” I made the remark as well approvingly as +in expression of an immutable truth. + +“Always, always,” she replied, with earnestness. “There is no blinder +folly than that of grasping a present worldly good, at the expense of +violated justice. Whoever does so, comes out that far wrong in the end. +There is only one way that leads to peace of mind: the way of honor and +right. All other ways, no matter into what rich harvest fields they may +lead in the beginning, terminate in wretchedness. There never has been, +and never will be, any exception to this rule. We see its operation +daily, turn our eyes whatsoever way we choose. And God forbid that I +should deliberately enter the way that leads to ultimate unhappiness! +Self-denial in the present is better than gnawing regret in the future. +The good things of this world prove to be curses instead of blessings, +unless the mind be rightly adjusted for their enjoyment. And such a +right adjustment is impossible where the very fact of their possession +involves a moral wrong. I see this so clearly, Doctor, that I shudder +inwardly at the bare imagination of committing such a wrong.” + +“It is by trial that God proves us,” said I, “and may He bring you out +of this one, should the trial come, as gold from the refiner's furnace!” + +“Amen!” was her solemnly uttered response; “if it should come, may I be +found strong enough to do the right!” + +For over a week this search for a will was continued, until it was +clear to all concerned that no such document was in existence. Then +preparation was made for the visit to England, in search of evidence +bearing upon the identity of Mrs. Montgomery as the sister of Captain +Allen. Two or three months elapsed, however, before Mr. Wallingford +could so arrange his business as to be absent for the length of time +it might take to complete his mission. He sailed for England in June, +between three and four months after the marriage of Delia Floyd. He +called to see me on the day before leaving, and I had a brief but +pleasant talk with him. He was in good health and good spirits, and +anticipated a successful visit. + +“I shall gain,” he remarked, “in two ways by this trip. Professionally +and intellectually. I have had many a dream of that land of our +forefathers--England--now to be realized. I shall see London, walk its +streets, and linger amid its historic places. Don't smile at this +almost boyish enthusiasm, Doctor. London has always been the Mecca of my +desires.” + +I had never seen him so animated. A higher life seemed flowing in his +veins. His countenance had a brighter aspect than usual, and his head +an erecter carriage. There was a depth of meaning in his eyes never +observed before--a look as if some new born hope were lending its +inspiration to his soul. Altogether manlier was his aspect and bearing +than I had ever seen it. + +“God speed your mission,” said I, as I shook hands with him in parting. + +“If it depends on human agency, directed with earnestness, patience, and +will, my mission will have a prosperous result,” he replied. “It is to +be my first entirely self-reliant experience, and I think the discipline +of mind it will involve must strengthen me for higher professional work +than any in which I have yet been engaged. You are aware, Doctor, that +my heart is in my profession.” + +“So I have seen from the beginning.” + +“I will not deny,” he added, “that I have ambition. That I wish to be +distinguished at the bar.” + +“An honorable ambition,” said I. + +“Nor that, sometimes--in moments of weakness, perhaps--my dreams +have gone higher. But I am a very young man, and youth is ardent and +imaginative,” he added. + +“And you have this great advantage,” I replied, “that, with every year +added to your life, you may, if you will, grow wiser and stronger. You +stand, as all young minds, at the bottom of a ladder. The height to +which you climb will depend upon your strength and endurance.” + +“If we both live long enough, Doctor, you may see me on the topmost +rundle, for I shall climb with unwearying effort.” + +He spoke with a fine enthusiasm, that lent a manly beauty to his face. + +“Climb on,” I answered, “and you will rise high above the great mass, +who are aimless and indolent. But you will have competitors, few, but +vigorous and tireless. In the contest for position that you must wage +with these, all your powers will be taxed; and if you reach the +topmost rundle to which you aspire, success will be, indeed, a proud +achievement.” + +“I have the will, the ambition, the courage, and the endurance, Doctor,” + was his reply. “So, if I fail, the fault will lie here,” and he touched, +significantly, his forehead. + +“For lack of brains?” said I, smiling. + +“Yes. The defect will lie there,” he answered, smiling in return. + +“Brains are remarkable for latent capacity. If stimulated, they develop +new powers, and this almost without limit. All they want is to be well +supplied with the right kind of food, and well worked at the same time.” + +“I believe that, Doctor, and find vast encouragement in the thought,” + and Wallingford laughed pleasantly. + +Our parting words were growing voluminous. So we shook hands again, +repeated our mutual good wishes, and separated. In the afternoon he +started for Boston, from whence he sailed, on the next day, for England. + +This was towards the latter end of June. He was to write to Mrs. +Montgomery immediately on his arrival out, and again as soon as he had +obtained an interview with the Willoughby family. Early in August, +she received his first letter, which was brief, simply announcing his +arrival at Liverpool. + +About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note +from Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed +something in her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not smile, as +was her wont, when we met, her countenance retaining its usual serious +expression. I thought she looked paler, and just a little troubled. + +“Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor,” she said. “I am afraid you +will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly interest +in me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a sound +adviser.” + +I bowed, and she continued: + +“I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, +been well received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, +for examination, a large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel +Willoughby.” + +“If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be sure to +find it,” said I. + +“No doubt of that. But”--I thought her voice faltered a little--“the +question is solved, and he may return.” + +“Solved! How?” I asked quickly. + +“I have found the will.” + +“What?” + +“I have found the will,” she repeated, in a steady tone, “and that +solves the question.” + +“Is it in your favor?” I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. It +came in a firmly uttered-- + +“No.” + +We looked steadily into each other's face for several moments. + +“In whose favor?” + +“In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife,” she replied. + +“But she is dead,” I answered quickly. + +“True--but I am not his heir.” + +She said this resolutely. + +“She died childless,” said I, “and will not the descent stop with +her?--the property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain Allen?” + +“She may have relatives--a brother or sister,” said Mrs. Montgomery. + +“That is scarcely probable,” I objected. + +“It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means +ought to, and must be, taken.” + +“Where did you find the will?” I inquired. + +“Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she +accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She +pressed harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back +several inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to its +place. She then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As soon +as it had passed a certain point, a secret drawer, set in vertically, +sprung up, and from the side, which fell open, the will dropped out.” + +“It is singular,” said I, “that it should come to light just at this +time.” + +“It is Providential, no doubt,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +“What course will you pursue?” I inquired. + +“My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford.” + +“I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that,” said I. + +“On what ground?” + +“This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no more. +If the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you stood before, +and will require the evidence as to identity for which Mr. Wallingford +is now in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must not be recalled.” + +The lady mused for a little while, and then said-- + +“Perhaps you are right, Doctor.” + +“I am sure of it,” I replied, speaking earnestly. “This will, if we +find it, on examination, to be an instrument executed according to +legal forms, puts your rights in jeopardy, though by no means sets them +aside.” + +“You take the correct view, no doubt,” was her reply to this. Her voice +was not so firm as in the beginning. As the probabilities began to show +themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of self-possession. + +“Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work,” said I, “and find, if possible, +the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the legal heir, as I +trust you will. And until his return, the existence of this important +document had better remain a secret.” + +“Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?” + +I reflected for some moments, and then replied-- + +“Yes. He is your legal adviser, and one in whom the highest confidence +may be reposed. The will should be at once placed in his hands for +examination.” + +“And go upon record?” + +“Better leave all to his superior legal judgment. But,” as the thought +occurred to me, “who are named as the executors of this will?” + +“I did not examine as to that, being too much interested in the +provisions of the writing,” she replied. + +“May I see the document?” + +“Blanche, dear, you will find it in the right-hand drawer of the +secretary, in our room;” and Mrs. Montgomery handed a key to her +daughter, who left the apartment in which we were sitting. She came back +in a few minutes, and handed me a paper, which, on examination, I found +to be written throughout, and evidently by the hand of Captain Allen. It +was dated San Juan de Porto Rico, January 10, 1820, and was witnessed by +two signatures--the names Spanish. The executors were Judge Bigelow and +Squire Floyd. There was an important sentence at the conclusion of the +will. It was in these words:--“In case my wife, in dying, should leave +no relatives, then every thing shall revert to my own right heirs, +should any be living.” + +All this gave the affair, in my mind, a more serious aspect. Before +mentioning the executors' names, I said-- + +“Do you know where Theresa Garcia resided, before her marriage with +Captain Allen?” + +“In Porto Rico, as I have learned from old 'Aunty,' and also from +letters found in searching for the will.” + +“Which I find was executed at San Juan De Porto Rico, the principal town +on the island. Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd are the executors.” + +I saw her start slightly, and grow a little pale as I said this. + +“Judge Bigelow, and Squire Floyd! That is extraordinary!” She was more +disturbed than I had yet seen her in reference to this matter. + +“It is remarkable, certainly, that Judge Bigelow, your legal adviser, +should be one of the executors of a will, which determines your +brother's estate out of the line of consanguinity.” + +“He must, of course, cease to represent my interest in the case,” + remarked the lady. + +“He cannot represent two diverse interests,” said I. + +“No; that is clear.” She said this in a troubled way; and was, +evidently, falling into a perplexed state of mind. “Well, Doctor, what +is to be done?” She spoke with recovered self-possession, after a short +period of silence, looking at me with her old calmness of expression. + +I took some moments for reflection, and then said, + +“My advice is, to keep your own counsel, and wait until Mr. Wallingford +returns from England. Whenever you place this document in the hands of +Judge Bigelow, he must go over to the adverse interest; when you will +be compelled to seek another legal adviser. You are not just ready for +this; nor will be until after your agent comes back with the result of +his investigations. No wrong to any one can possibly occur from letting +things remain just as they are for a few months.” + +“I think your view of the matter correct, Doctor,” was her reply. “And +yet, to keep this secret, even for an hour, when I have no right to its +possession, touches my conscience. Is it just? This will is not in my +favor. It does not even recognize my existence. It devises property, +of large value, in another line; and there may be heirs ready to take +possession, the moment its existence is made known to them. Am I not +intermeddling, unjustly, in the affairs of another?” + +“But for you,” I replied, “this will might never have seen the light. If +heirs exist, they can, therefore, have no just reason for complaint at +the brief delay to which, under the circumstances, you are, in +common justice, entitled. Your conscience may be over sensitive, Mrs. +Montgomery.” + +“I would rather it were over sensitive than obtuse,” she said. “Worldly +possessions are desirable. They give us many advantages. We all desire +and cling to them. But they are dearly bought at the price of heavenly +possessions. What will it profit a man if he gain the whole world and +lose his own soul? Nothing! It were better for him to die like Lazarus. +No, Doctor, I am resolved in this matter to be simply just. If, in +justice and right, this estate comes into my hands, I will take the +wealth thankfully and use it as wisely as I can. But I will not throw +a single straw in the way of its passing to the legal heirs of my +brother's wife, if any are in existence and can be found.” + +“But you will keep this secret until Mr. Wallingford's return?” I urged. + +“I do not see that wrong to any one can follow such a delay,” she +answered. “Yes, I will keep the secret.” + +“And I will keep it also, even from my good Constance,” said I, “until +your agent's return. The matter lies sacred between us.” + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +“Mrs. Dewey is at her father's,” said my wife to me, one evening in +August, as we sat at the tea-table. + +“Ah! have you seen her?” I was interested at once. Six months had +elapsed since Delia's wedding, and this was her first visit home; though +her mother had been twice down to New York, in company with the Squire, +who had business with the firm to which Ralph belonged. In fact, since +his marriage to Squire Floyd's daughter, young Dewey had prevailed upon +his father-in-law to make the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., agents +for the entire product of his manufactory--an arrangement which the +Squire regarded as greatly to his advantage. + +My question was answered in the affirmative. + +“How is she?” + +“Looking very well.” + +There was no warmth or feeling in my wife's voice or manner, although +Delia had been a favorite with her, and we had often talked about the +pleasure we should have in meeting her again. + +“Have you nothing more to say of our young friend?” I asked. + +“She is very much changed.” + +“For the better?” + +“Some might think so. I do not.” There was a disappointed manner about +my wife. + +“In what respect is she changed?” + +“Some would say that she had grown handsome; and, in truth, her +countenance strikes you, at first, as much improved. It is rounded to a +fuller outline, and has a style about it, caught, I suppose, from city +life and feeling. But she carries her head with a statelier air than is +becoming Squire Floyd's daughter; and I am very sure, that, as the wife +of Ralph Dewey, she has acquired no special consequence. Rich jewelry +may be very well in city drawing-rooms, and public assemblages, where +dress is made conspicuous. But to sport diamond ear-rings and breastpin, +splendid enough for a countess, in her father's little parlor, and +before the eyes of friends who loved her once for herself alone, savored +so strongly of weak pride and vanity, that I could not look upon her +with any of my old feelings. It was Delia Floyd no longer. Already, +the pure, sweet, artless maiden, had changed into a woman of the world, +dressed up for show. Ah, my husband! if this is the effect of city life, +let me never breathe its tainted atmosphere.” + +And she dropped her eyes, with a sigh, and sat, lost in thought, for +several moments. + +“Your account of Delia pains me,” said I. “Is the case indeed so bad?” + +“It is. Alas! the fine gold is dimmed. Our sweet young friend has +strayed from the paths of nature, and will never, I fear, get back +again.” + +“Had you any conversation with her?” I inquired. + +“Yes: or, rather I listened to her, as she ran on about her city life; +the grand people with whom, she had already become acquainted; and the +splendor of balls, parties, soirees, and operas. I grew sober as she +talked: for not one true womanly sentiment fell from her lips. She did +not express interest in any of her new friends and acquaintances for +the good qualities they possessed; but spoke of their wealth, style of +living, social connections, and other attractions wholly external to the +individual. She was even eloquent over star actresses and opera singers; +one or two of whom she spoke of having met at the house of a fashionable +friend.” + +“How true the old adage, that evil communications corrupt good manners!” + said I. + +“There must be some radical weakness in a case of such sudden +deterioration as this,” replied my wife. “Some latent vanity and love of +the world. I cannot believe that one sensible young woman in ten would +be spoiled to the degree that Delia is spoiled, if you passed her +through like temptations.” + +I saw Delia myself, on the next day. She was dressed in New York, not in +S----, style; and so, naturally, appeared to disadvantage in my eyes. +I found her very bright and animated; and to my questions as to her +new city life, she spoke warmly of its attractions. At times, in the +intervals of exciting talk, her countenance would fall into its true +expression, as nearly all countenances will when thought ceases to be +active--that expression, in which you see, as in a mirror, the actual +state of mind. It revealed far more than came into her consciousness at +the time, else would she have covered it with one of the rippling smiles +she had already learned to throw, like a spangled veil, over her face. + +Mrs. Dewey spent nearly a month in S----and then went back with her +husband to New York. I saw them several times together during this +period. He had grown more pompous in manner, and talked in a larger way. +Our little town was simply contemptible in his eyes, and he was at no +pains to conceal his opinion. New York was everything; and a New York +merchant of passable standing, able to put two or three towns like +S----in his breeches pocket. + +The only interest I felt in this conceited young man was as the husband +of my young friend; and as touching their relation to each other, I +observed both of them very closely. It did not take me long to discover +that there was no true bond of love between them. The little fond +attentions that we look for in a husband of only six months' standing; +and the tender reciprocations which are sure to follow, were all wanting +here. Constance spoke of this, and I answered, lightly, to cover the +regret the fact occasioned-- + +“It is not fashionable in good society, you know, for husband and wife +to show any interest in each other.” + +She laid her hand suddenly upon my arm, and looked lovingly into my +face. + +“May we never make a part of good society, then!” + +I kissed her pure lips, and answered, + +“There is no present prospect of it, my Constance. I am not ambitious of +social distinction. Still, our trial in this direction may come, for you +know that I am not without ambition professionally. A chair in one of +the medical schools might tempt me to an Atlantic city.” + +Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm. Then looking +from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on the floor, +while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the cradle, she +said:-- + +“I shall not need the glitter of diamonds--these are my jewels.” + +Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at sight +of a husband's kiss. Could I do less than breathe my tender love upon +her lips again? + +“And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen,” said I. +“As a mother, woman attains her highest glory.” + +“As wife and mother,” Constance answered quickly. And now she leaned +against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her. + +“And all this,” she said, “a good society woman must give up; and for +what? God help them in the time of life's bitter trials and painful +experience, which all must endure in some degree!” She spoke with strong +feeling. “On what arm can a woman lean, who has no husband in the true +sense? Is she strong enough, standing alone, for life's great battles? +What has she to sustain her, when all the external support, received +from pride, is swept away? Alas! Alas! Is there a blinder folly than the +pageantry of fashionable society? It is the stage on a grander scale, +glittering, gorgeous, fascinating to the senses--but all a mere +show, back from which the actors retire, each with an individual +consciousness, and the sad words pressing to tremulous lips--'The heart +knoweth its own bitterness.'” + +Like ourselves, most of Delia's best friends were disappointed, and when +she returned to New York, no hearts followed her with tender interest, +except those of her own family. She had carried herself with an air +of too much self-consequence; or, if she came down to the level of +old friends and companions, it was with too evident a feeling of +condescension. + +I happened to fall into the company of Squire Floyd and Judge Bigelow, +not very long after the return of Delia and her husband to New York. +The conversation turned upon business, and I learned that the Squire had +thought of enlarging his mill, and introducing steam--the water power +being only sufficient for its present productive capacity. Judge +Bigelow was very much interested, I found, in the particular branch of +manufacture in which his neighbor was engaged, and inclined to embark +some capital with him in the proposed extension of the works. They +frequently quoted the Judge's nephew, Mr. Ralph Dewey, as to the extent +to which goods could be put into market by the house of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee & Co., who possessed, it was conceded, almost unlimited facilities. + +I listened to their conversation, which involved plans of enlargement, +statistics of trade, home and foreign production, capital, and the +like, until I began to feel that I was moving in a narrow sphere, and +destined, in comparison with them, to occupy a very small space on the +world. And I will confess it, a shade of dissatisfaction crept over my +heart. + +A few months later I learned that my two neighbors were jointly +interested in the mill, and that early in the ensuing spring steam-power +would be introduced, and the capacity of the works increased to more +than double their present range. + +It was December when Wallingford returned from England. He brought +back with him all the evidence required to prove the identity of Mrs. +Montgomery. Up to this time only three persons knew of the existence of +a will--Mrs. Montgomery, Blanche, and myself; and we formed a council on +the question of what was now to be done. I gave it as my opinion, that, +as Judge Bigelow was one of the executors, and must in consequence cease +to act for Mrs. Montgomery, that we had better call in Mr. Wallingford, +and get his view of the case before placing the will in Judge Bigelow's +hands. The mother and daughter agreed with me. So a time of meeting was +appointed, and a note sent to the young lawyer desiring his presence +at the house of Mrs. Montgomery. He seemed very much gratified at the +successful result of his visit to England, and referred to it with +something of pardonable pride in his manner. + +“We have every reason,” said Mrs. Montgomery, in response to this, “to +be satisfied with the manner in which you have executed an important +mission. Since you left America, however, a document has come into my +hands, which, had it reached me earlier, would have saved you a long and +tedious search among mouldy and moth-eaten papers. It was nothing less +than Captain Allen's will.” + +And she gave him the paper. He looked surprised, and for a moment or two +bewildered. Then opening the will, he read it through rapidly. I saw the +color leave his face as he progressed, and his hand move nervously. +It was plain that his mind took in, at a grasp, the entire series of +consequences which the appearance of this document involved. + +“This is a serious matter,” he said, looking up at Mrs. Montgomery. + +“It is,” she answered, calmly. “The will appears to be in legal form.” + +“Yes.” + +“And must go into the hands of those who are named as executors.” + +“And be by them entered in the office of probate,” added Wallingford. + +“I would have placed it in their hands immediately on its discovery, but +have, acting under advice from my kind friend here, waited until your +return from England. No interest has suffered, I presume, by this +delay?” + +“None.” + +Wallingford bent his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time as if +half-confounded by the discovery. + +“What step will the executors probably take?” I inquired. + +“It will be their duty to assume possession of the estate, and hold it +for the heirs of Mrs. Allen, if any are in existence,” he replied. + +“And it will be their duty to take all proper means for discovering +these heirs?” said I. + +“Yes. That follows, of course.” + +“And if none are found within a reasonable time?” I asked. + +“The phrase, a reasonable time, is very indeterminate,” said +Wallingford. “It may include one, or ten years, according to the facts +in the case, the views of the executors and the courts.” + +“But, finally?” + +“Finally,” he answered, “if no heirs come forward to claim the estate, +it will revert to the old line of descent through the blood relations of +Captain Allen.” + +“And come into the possession of Mrs. Montgomery?” + +“Yes, if the courts are satisfied with the evidence which can be +presented in her favor.” + +There followed a long silence, which Mrs. Montgomery was first to break. + +“I believe,” she said, firmly, “that I am prepared for the final issue +of this matter, whatever it may be. I shall still require legal advice, +Mr. Wallingford.” + +The young man bowed assent. + +“And, as Judge Bigelow is one of the executors--” + +“I do not think, madam,” said Wallingford, interrupting her, “that the +fact of his executorship will make him any the less a safe adviser for +you. He is a man of the highest integrity of character, clear-seeing, +and of impartial judgment.” + +“I believe in his judgment and integrity,” she replied. “Still, I do not +think it well to have these two interests represented by the same man. +You are his associate, if I understand correctly the relation between +you.” + +“I am, in a certain sense.” + +“Do you have a share in all of his business?” + +“Not in all.” + +“So he can be independent of you in any special case if he deems it +desirable.” + +“Yes.” + +“And this is also true as regards yourself?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then, Mr. Wallingford, I shall consult you, individually, in future.” + +He bowed low in acquiescence. + +“And let me say to you, once for all, that I want only my rights, if I +have any, protected. I do not wish any impediments thrown in the way +of a proper search for the heirs of Mrs. Allen; but desire to see the +fullest notice given, and in channels by which it is most likely to +reach them. At the same time, it is but just to me and mine that all +right steps should be taken to protect my interests, in case no heirs +should be found. And I have faith in you, Mr. Wallingford.” + +“You shall never have cause to regret your confidence, madam,” he +replied, in a tone so full of manly integrity, that I could not but gaze +upon his fine countenance with a feeling of admiration. + +“Will you place this will in the hands of Judge Bigelow?” asked Mrs. +Montgomery. + +“It will be best for you to do that yourself, madam,” replied +Wallingford. + +“I will be guided by your judgment in the case, sir. This very day I +will send him a note asking an interview.” + +“After that, madam,” said Wallingford, rising, “I will be at your +service.” + +We retired together. + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +Both Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd were discreet men, and did not, at +the outset of their executorship, do more in the way of giving publicity +to the fact, than probating the will, and entering into bonds for the +faithful performance of the trust. For the present they decided to let +Mrs. Montgomery remain in occupancy of the old mansion, and she accepted +this concession in her favor. + +The property left by Captain Allen was large. The grounds upon which the +old house stood, embraced nearly twenty acres, and as the town had grown +in that direction, its value might now be estimated by the foot, instead +of the acre, as houses had grown up on all sides. Moreover, the stream +of water upon which the mill of Squire Floyd stood, ran through these +grounds, in a series of picturesque rapids, giving a fall of over twenty +feet. The value of this property, including a mill site, was estimated +at sixty thousand dollars. Then there were twenty thousand dollars in +stock of the County Bank, the interest of which Mrs. Allen had drawn +since the death of her husband, regularly, as administratrix of the +estate. Besides this property, there were several pieces of unimproved +land in and around the town, the value of which could not fall much +below twenty thousand dollars. In addition to all this, was a coffee +estate on the island of Porto Rico. But as to its extent, or value, no +evidence appeared. It might now be richly productive, or a mere tropical +wilderness. If productive, no evidence of any return since Captain +Allen's death appeared. + +The winter passed without any apparent movement on the part of the +executors looking to the discovery of Mrs. Allen's heirs. Young Dewey +came up from New York every few weeks, to hold business interviews with +his uncle and Squire Floyd, touching the mill-extension which was +fully determined upon; Judge Bigelow agreeing to invest twenty thousand +dollars, and the nephew ten thousand. All these matters were talked of +in the beginning, freely, before Wallingford, who still had his office +with his old preceptor, and shared in his business. After a while, he +noticed a growing reserve on the part of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, +when he was by, touching their private affairs; and then they ceased +entirely all reference thereto. + +Dewey came up as frequently as usual, but avoided any remark in relation +to business while in the presence of Wallingford. During his stay in +S----, the Judge spent but little time at the office; being, for the +most part, at the mill with his nephew and the Squire. + +In the spring, a large force of men was set to work on the extension of +Squire Floyd's mill; and as Judge Bigelow had become largely interested +in the new enterprise, he gave a great deal more attention to what was +going on in that direction, than to the business of his office, the +heaviest part of which devolved upon Mr. Wallingford. Still, no steps +were taken to discover the heirs of Mrs. Allen. Once or twice Mr. +Wallingford had approached the subject, but the Judge made no response. +At last, he put the question direct, as to what had been done. The Judge +seemed a little annoyed; but said, in a hurried way that was unusual +with him, + +“I must, and will attend to this matter immediately. I have had so much +on my mind that it has been neglected.” + +But the spring months passed--summer glided by--and still there was +no advertisement for heirs, nor any steps taken, so far as Wallingford +could learn, to ascertain their existence. + +Mrs. Montgomery still occupied the old mansion, waiting patiently the +issue whatever it might be. Her health, I regretted to find, was not +firm. She suffered a great deal from nervous debility; and I saw, +plainly, that she had failed considerably during the past few months. +Blanche, on the contrary, after recovering from the illness which +followed immediately on her arrival in S----, had continued in excellent +health; and was growing daily more matured and womanly both as to mental +development and personal bearing. + +The mill improvements went on all summer, exciting no little interest +in our town, and occasioning no small amount of talk and speculation. +It was some time in the fall of that year, that I was permitted to hear +this brief conversation between a couple of townsmen. Mr. A----had made +some query as to the source of all the money expended on the new mill of +Squire Floyd, which was now standing forth, under roof, in most +imposing proportions, compared with the old works. Mr. B----shrugged his +shoulders, and replied, + +“Floyd and the Judge are joint executors of old Allen's estate, you +know.” + +“What does that signify?” inquired Mr. A----. + +“It may signify a great deal. They have trust funds in their possession +to a large amount, I am told.” + +“They are both honorable men, and would not violate their trust,” said +A----. + +“I will not gainsay that,” answered Mr. B----. “Still, they may use +these funds temporarily, and wrong no one.” + +Nothing more was said in my presence, but I turned their remarks over +and over again, feeling less satisfied the more I pondered them. A day +or two afterwards I met Mr. Wallingford, and said to him, + +“How comes on the search for the heirs of the Allen estate?” + +The question caused him to look grave. + +“No progress has been made, so far as I can learn,” he answered. + +“Isn't this indifference on the part of the executors a little +extraordinary?” I remarked. + +“I must confess that I do not understand it,” said the young lawyer. + +“There is personal, as well as real estate?” + +“Yes. Stocks worth twenty thousand dollars.” + +“I have heard it suggested, that trust funds in the case are going into +Squire Floyd's mill.” + +Wallingford started at the suggestion, and looked for some moments +intently in my face; then dropped his eyes, and stood lost in thought a +good while. + +“Where did you hear the suggestion?” he at length inquired. + +I repeated the conversation just mentioned, and named the individuals +with whom it had occurred. + +“And now, Henry,” said I, “put this hint, and the singular neglect of +the executors to search for the heirs to the Allen property, together, +and tell me how the matter shapes itself in your mind. We speak +confidentially with each other, of course.” + +“I don't just like the appearance of it, that is all I can say, Doctor,” + he replied in a half absent manner. + +“As you represent the interests of Mrs. Montgomery,” said I, “is it not +your duty to look a little closer into this matter?” + +“It is; and I shall give it immediate attention.” + +He did so, and to his surprise, found that all the bank stock had been +sold, and transferred. It was now plain to him where at least a part +of the funds being so liberally expended on the mill property of Squire +Floyd came from. On venturing to make some inquiries of Judge Bigelow +bearing on the subject, that individual showed an unusual degree of +irritation, and intimated, in terms not to be misunderstood, that he +thought himself competent to manage any business he might undertake, and +did not feel disposed to tolerate any intermeddling. + +From that time, Wallingford saw that a separation from his old preceptor +was inevitable; and he so shaped events, that in less than three months +he made the separation easy and natural, and took an office to himself +alone. + +Still there was no movement on the part of the executors in regard +to the valuable estate in their hands. Summer and fall passed, and +Christmas saw the splendid improvements of Squire Floyd completed, +and the new mill in operation, under the vigorous power of steam. The +product thus secured was almost fabulous in the eyes of the half asleep +and awake people of S----, many of whom could hardly imagine people +enough in the country to consume the miles of cloth that came streaming +out from the rattling looms. And yet, we were informed, that more than +quadruple this product could be sold by the extensive house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co.; and that all that stood in the way of creating a +magnificent fortune out of cotton bales, was the lack of productive +facilities. + +During this winter I saw more than usual of Mrs. Dewey. She came up +from New York with her nurse and child, a babe not quite a year old, and +spent over six weeks with her parents. She had lost, in the two years +which had passed since her marriage, nearly all those beautiful traits +of character which made her once so charming. Fashionable city life +seemed to have spoiled her altogether. Her mind had not grown in the +right direction. She had wholly abandoned that tasteful reading through +which intellectual refinement comes; and to all appearance, no longer +cared for anything beyond the mere sensuous. Nothing in S----had +any interest for her; and she scarcely took the pains to conceal her +contempt for certain sincere and worthy people, who felt called upon, +for the sake of her parents, to show her some attention. She was not +happy, of course. When in repose; I noticed a discontented look on her +face. Her eyes had lost that clear, innocent, almost child-like beauty +of expression, that once made you gaze into them; and now had a cold, +absent, or eagerly longing expression, as if her thought were straining +itself forward towards some coveted good. + +Her conversation was almost always within the range of New York +fashionable themes; and barren of any food upon which the mind could +grow. There was not even the pretence of affection between her and her +husband. The fairest specimen of well bred indifference I had yet seen +was exhibited in their conduct to each other. Their babe did not seem +to be a matter of much account either. Delia took no personal care of it +whatever--leaving all this to the nurse. + +It happened one day that I was called in to see the child. I found it +suffering from some of the ill effects of difficult dentition, and +did what the case required. There was an old friend of Delia's at the +house--a young lady who had been much attached to her, and who still +retained a degree of her old friendship. They were talking together in +a pleasant, familiar way, when I came down stairs from my visit to the +sick child--the mother had not shown sufficient interest in the little +sufferer to attend me to the nurse's room. A word or two of almost +careless inquiry was made;--I had scarcely answered the mother's +queries, when her friend said, in a laughing way, looking from the +window at the same time, + +“There, Delia! see what you escaped.” + +I turned my eyes in the same direction, and saw Mr. Wallingford walking +past, on the opposite side of the street, with his head bent down. His +step was slow, but firm, and his air and carriage manly. + +Delia shrugged her shoulders, and drew up the corners of her lips. There +was an expression very much like contempt on her face.--But she did +not make any reply. I saw this expression gradually fade away, and her +countenance grow sober. Her friend did not pursue the banter, and the +subject dropped. + +What she had escaped! It was a dark day in the calendar of her life, +when she made that escape; and I think there must have been times when +a consciousness of this fact pressed upon her soul like a suffocating +nightmare. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +Spring opened again, and the days glided swiftly on towards summer; and +yet, so far as the movements of the executors could be traced, nothing +had been done in the work of searching for the heirs. One day, early in +June, Mrs. Montgomery sent for Mr. Wallingford. On attending her, she +placed in his hands a communication which she had just received. It was +from the executors, giving notice in a kind and respectful way, that, +for the interest of the legal heirs, and their own security, it would be +necessary for them to assume full possession of the mansion and grounds, +unless she felt willing to pay a rental that was equivalent to the +interest on their value. + +“I have expected this,” said the lady; “and, so far from considering +myself aggrieved, feel grateful that a quiet residence here has been so +long accorded me.” + +“You will remove?” + +“There is no other course left. My income will not justify a rent of +some three thousand dollars.” + +“As the property is unproductive, no such rent as that will be +required.” + +“The letter says, 'a rental equivalent to the interest on their value.'” + +“I will see Judge Bigelow this morning, and ascertain precisely what +views are held in regard to this matter.” + +They were sitting near one of the parlor windows that looked out upon +the portion of the grounds that sloped away towards the stream, that +threw its white folds of water from one rocky ledge to another +in graceful undulations. As Mr. Wallingford ceased speaking, Mrs. +Montgomery turned her head quickly and looked out. The sound of voices +had reached her ears. Three men had entered the grounds, and were +passing the window at a short distance. + +“Who are they?” asked Mr. Wallingford. Then, answering his own question, +he said, “Oh, I see; Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph Dewey, his +son-in-law.” + +The three men, after going a few hundred rods in the direction of the +stream, turned and stood for some minutes looking at the house, +and talking earnestly. Dewey appeared to have the most to say, and +gesticulated quite freely. Then they moved on to that portion of the +stream where the water went gliding down the mimic rapids, and remained +there for a considerable time. It was plain that some scheme was in +their heads, for they took measurement by pacing off the grounds in +various directions; drew together in close conference at times; then +separated, each making some examination for himself; and again stood in +close deliberation. At last, as if satisfied with their investigations, +they returned by way of the mansion, and passed out without calling. + +“Put that and that together, and there is a meaning in this procedure +beyond the simple rental of the place,” said Wallingford. + +“What is your inference?” asked Mrs. Montgomery. + +“I have made none as yet,” he replied. “But I will see Judge Bigelow, +and have some talk with him. Of course, I can have nothing to say, +adverse to a requirement of rent. Executors are responsible for the +right use of property in their hands, and must see that it produces an +interest, if in a position to pay anything. You do not, of course, wish +to occupy the whole of these grounds. It may be, that the use of the +house, garden, lawn, and appurtenances, may be secured at a moderate +rent. If so, do you wish to remain?” + +“I would prefer remaining here, if the rent is within a certain sum.” + +“Say three hundred dollars?” + +“Yes. If not beyond that sum, I will remain,” replied Mrs. Montgomery. + +The interview which Mr. Wallingford held with Judge Bigelow a few hours +afterwards, was not satisfactory. The proposition to let Mrs. Montgomery +and her daughter occupy the house, separate from the extensive grounds, +would not be entertained. It finally came out, that an offer to purchase +had been made by the firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., with a view to +the erection of extensive mills, and that the executors were going +to ask the Court for power to sell, as a handsome sum could now be +obtained. It further came out, that in case this power was granted, +Mr. Dewey was to reside in S----, to superintend the erection of these +mills, and afterwards to join Squire Floyd in the management of both +establishments--a consolidation of interests between the mercantile and +manufacturing branches being about to take place. The old mansion was +to undergo a thorough revision, and become the domicile of the resident +partner. + +With these plans in view, the executors insisted upon the removal of +Mrs. Montgomery; and notice as to time was given, which included three +months. Formal application was made to the Court having power in the +case, for authority to sell and re-invest. The reasons for so doing were +set forth in detail, and involved plausible arguments in favor of the +heirs whenever they should be found. + +Mr. Wallingford had personal reasons for not wishing to oppose this +application. The executors had been his friends from boyhood. Especially +towards Judge Bigelow did he entertain sentiments of deep gratitude +for his many favors and kindnesses. But his duty, as counsel to Mrs. +Montgomery, left him no alternative. She was heir prospective to this +property, and he did not believe that the plans in view were best for +her interests, in case no other heir was found. So, he went before the +Court, and opposed the prayer of the executors. In doing so, he gained +their ill-will, but did not succeed in preventing a decree authorizing a +sale of the property. Dewey was present, a deeply interested listener to +the arguments that were advanced on both sides. After the decision, as +Wallingford was passing from the court-room, Dewey, who stood near the +door, talking with a gentleman, said, loud enough for the young lawyer +to hear him. + +“The hound! He got on the wrong scent that time!” + +A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he +repressed the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any intimation +that the offensive remark had reached him. + +As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was made, +Mrs. Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At first she +seemed inclined to favor a return to England; but after repeated +conferences with Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to remain in +this country. + +Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since +Mrs. Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being +from cloudland. The friendly relation established between us in the +beginning, had continued, growing more and more intimate. My good +Constance found in her a woman after her own heart. + +“The days I spend at the Allen House,” she would often say to me, “are +days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure and +tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her lifts me +above the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, and fills my +mind with longings after those higher things into which all must rise +before that peace comes to the soul which passeth all understanding. +I return home from these interviews, happier in mind, and stronger for +life's duties. I do not know any term that so clearly expresses my idea +of this lady, as Christian philosopher.” + +Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also were +times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed a certain +elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving sphere about +her after one of these pleasant seasons. + +The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much as +they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if they +were her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her eighth year, +almost lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came without taking her +home with her, and often kept her for two or three days at a time. + +Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; yet +her manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. She did +not seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, nor of the +admiration her presence always extorted. No one could meet her, as +a stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from ordinary +contact--a being of superior mould with whom familiarity was +presumption. + +The companion of such a mother, who had with tender solicitude, from +childhood upwards, guarded all the avenues of her mind, lest false +principles or false views of things should find entrance; and as +carefully selected her mental food, in order that there might be health +of mind as well as health of body--it was not surprising to find about +her a solidity and strength of character, that showed itself beneath the +sweet grace of her external life, whenever occasion for their exhibition +arose. From her mother she had imbibed a deep religious sentiment; but +this did not manifest itself so much in language, as in dutiful acts. +I had often occasion to notice, how, almost instinctively, she referred +all things to a superintending Providence; and looked into the future, +veiled as it is to all eyes, with a confidence that every thing would +come out right, beautiful to contemplate. What she meant by right, +was something more than is usually included in the words; for she had +learned from her wise teacher, that God's providence disposes the things +of this world for every individual in a way that serves best his eternal +interests; therefore, what was best in this sense, could not fail to be +right. + +To our deep regret, Mrs. Montgomery decided to change the place of her +residence from S----to Boston. All the reasons that led her to this +decision, I was not able to discover. Her life at the Allen House had +been quite secluded. She had been courteous to all the people with whom +she was brought into any degree of contact, and had reciprocated all +friendly visits; but there was a certain distance between her and them, +that it seemed impossible for either to pass over. One of my inferences +was, that, in removing from the retired old mansion, and taking a modern +house, she would stand out more prominently before all eyes than was +agreeable to her. Be this as it may, she was in earnest about removing +to Boston. + +I happened to be present when the announcement of this purposed removal +was made to Mr. Wallingford. He had called in, during one of my visits +to Mrs. Montgomery, for the transaction of some business. + +“To Boston?” he said, in a tone of surprise, and, I thought, +disappointment. At the same time I saw his eyes turned towards Blanche. + +“Yes; I think it will be best,” she replied. “If I have any interests +here, I feel that they are safe in your hands, Mr. Wallingford.” + +She leaned a little towards him, and I thought her voice had in it a +softer tone than usual. Her eyes looked steadily into his face. + +“I will do all that is right, madam.” He spoke a little lower than +usual. + +“And the right is always the best in any case, Mr. Wallingford,” said +she with feeling. + +“How soon do you think of removing?” the young man inquired. + +“In three or four weeks.” + +“So soon.” + +Again I noticed that his eyes wandered towards Blanche, who sat close to +her mother, with her face bent down and turned partly away. + +“There is no reason why we should linger in S----, after all things are +ready for removal. It would have suited my feelings and habits of mind +to have remained here; but as this cannot be, I prefer going to Boston +on more than one account.” + +“You will leave behind you many sincere friends,” said Wallingford. + +There was more feeling in his voice than usually showed itself; and I +again observed that Mrs. Montgomery, in responding to the remark, fixed +her eyes upon him steadily, and with, I thought, a look of more than +usual interest. + +The few weeks of preparation glided swiftly away, and then we parted +from friends who had won their way into our own hearts; and whose memory +would ever be to us like the fragrance of holy incense. I learned from +Mrs. Montgomery, before she left us, during a more confidential talk +than usual, that her income was comparatively small, and that the +chief part of this, a pension from Government in acknowledgment of her +husband's services, would cease at her death. There was a momentary +failure in her voice as she said this, and her eyes turned with the +instinct of love towards Blanche. + +At her desire, Mr. Wallingford attended them to Boston, and remained +away for three or four days. He then returned to S----, bringing with +him kind words from the absent ones. The old routine of life went on +again, each of us taking up the daily duty; yet I think there was not +one of the favored few who had known Mrs. Montgomery and her daughter +intimately, that was not stronger to do right in every trial for the +memory of these true-hearted strangers--no, friends! + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +It was in October when Mrs. Montgomery, after a residence of three years +in the Allen House, went from among us. Old “Aunty,” and another +colored servant who had lived with Mrs. Allen, remained in charge of the +mansion. There was, of course, no removal of furniture, as that belonged +to the estate. Mrs. Montgomery had brought with her three servants from +England, a coachman, footman, and maid. The footman was sent back after +he had been a year in the country; but the coachman and maid still lived +with her, and accompanied her to Boston. + +The large schemes of men ambitious for gain, will not suffer them to +linger by the way. Ralph Dewey had set his mind on getting possession, +jointly with others, of the valuable Allen property; and as the Court +had granted a decree of sale, he urged upon his father-in-law and uncle +an early day for its consummation. They were in heart, honorable men, +but they had embarked in grand enterprises with at least one dishonest +compeer, and were carried forward by an impulse which they had not the +courage or force of character to resist. They thought that spring would +be the best time to offer the property for sale; but Dewey urged the +fall as more consonant with their views, and so the sale was fixed for +the first day of November. Notice was given in the country papers, +and Dewey engaged to see that the proposed sale was duly advertised in +Boston and New York. He managed, however, to omit that part of his duty. + +On the day of sale, quite a company of curious people assembled at the +Allen House, but when the property was offered, only a single bid was +offered. That came from Dewey, as the representative of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee & Co., and it was awarded to them for the sum of thirty-five +thousand dollars, a little more than half its real value. + +From that time until spring opened, all remained quiet. Then began the +busy hum of preparation, and great things for our town foreshadowed +themselves. A hundred men went to work on the site chosen for a new +mill, digging, blasting, and hauling; while carpenters and masons +were busy in and around the old mansion, with a view to its thorough +renovation, as the future residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. That gentleman +was on the ground, moving about with a self-sufficient air, and giving +his orders in a tone of authority that most of the work people felt to +be offensive. + +The antiquated furniture in the Allen House, rich though it was in style +and finish, would not suit our prospective millionaire, and it was all +sent to auction. From the auctioneers, it was scattered among the town's +people, who obtained some rare bargains. An old French secretary came +into my possession, at the cost of ten dollars--the original owner could +not have paid less than a hundred. It was curiously inlaid with satin +wood, and rich in quaint carvings. There seemed to be no end to the +discoveries I was continually making among its intricate series of +drawers, pigeon holes, slides, and hidden receptacles. But some one +had preceded me in the examination, and had removed all the papers and +documents it contained. It flashed across my mind, as I explored the +mazes of this old piece of furniture, that it might contain, in some +secret drawer, another will. This thought caused the blood to leap along +my veins, my cheeks to burn, and my hands to tremble. I renewed the +examination, at first hurriedly; then with order and deliberation, +taking out each drawer, and feeling carefully all around the cavity +left by its removal, in the hope of touching some hidden spring. But the +search was fruitless. One drawer perplexed me considerably. I could not +pull it clear out, nor get access above or below to see how closely +the various partitions and compartments came up to its sides, top, and +bottom. After working with it for some time, I gave up the search, and +my enthusiasm in this direction soon died out. I smiled to myself +many times afterwards, in thinking of the idle fancy which for a time +possessed me. + +In May, the furnishing of the renovated house began. This took nearly +a month. Every thing was brought from New York. Car loads of enormous +boxes, bales, and articles not made up into packages, were constantly +arriving at the depot, and being conveyed to the Allen House--the +designation which the property retains even to this day. The furniture +was of the richest kind--the carpets, curtains, and mirrors, princely in +elegance. When all was ready for the proud owners to come in and enjoy +their splendid home, it was thrown open for examination and admiration. +All S----went to see the show, and wander in dreamy amazement through +parlors, halls, and chambers. I went with the rest. The change seemed +like the work of magic. I could with difficulty make out the old +landmarks. The spacious rooms, newly painted and decked out in +rich, modern furniture, looked still more spacious. In place of the +whitewashed ceilings and dingy papered walls, graceful frescoes +spread their light figures, entrancing the eyes with their marvelous +semblances. The great hall received you with a statelier formality than +before; for it, too, had received also its gift of painting, and its +golden broideries. As you passed from room to room, you said--“This is +the palace of a prince--not the abode of a citizen.” + +The grounds around the mansion had been subject to as thorough a +renovation as the mansion itself. The old gate had given place to one of +larger proportions, and more imposing design. A new carriage-road swept +away in a grander curve from the gate to the dwelling. Substantial +stone-stabling had been torn down in order to erect a fanciful +carriage-house, built in imitation of a Swiss cottage; which, from its +singular want of harmony with the principal buildings, stood forth a +perpetual commentary upon the false taste of the upstart owner. + +I hardly think that either Mr. Dewey or his wife would have been much +flattered by the general tone of remark that ran through the curious +crowds that lingered in the elegant rooms, or inspected the improvements +outside. Nobody liked him; and as for his wife, fashionable associations +had so spoiled her, that not a single old friend retained either +affection or respect. It was sad to think that three years of a false +life could so entirely obliterate the good qualities that once blossomed +in her soul with such a sweet promise of golden fruitage. + +Early in June, the family of Mr. Dewey took possession of their new +home, and the occasion was celebrated by a splendid entertainment, +the cost of which, common rumor said, was over two thousand dollars. +We--Constance and I--were among the invited guests. It was a festive +scene, brilliant and extravagant beyond anything we had ever witnessed, +and quite bewildering to minds like ours. Mrs. Dewey was dressed like a +queen, and radiant in pearls and diamonds. I questioned her good taste +in this, as hostess; and think she knew better--but the temptation to +astonish the good people of S----was too strong to be resisted. + +After the curtain fell on this brilliant spectacle, Mrs. Dewey assumed a +stately air, showing, on all occasions, a conscious superiority that +was offensive to our really best people. There are in all communities +a class who toady to the rich; and we had a few of these in S----. +They flattered the Deweys, and basked in the sunshine of their inflated +grandeur. + +I was not one towards whom Mrs. Dewey put on superior airs. My +profession brought me into a kind of relation to her that set aside +all pretence. Very soon after her removal to S----, my services were +required in the family, one of her two children having been attacked +with measles. On the occasion of my first call, I referred, naturally, +to the fact of her removal from New York, and asked how she liked the +change. + +“I don't like it all, Doctor,” she replied, in a dissatisfied tone. + +“Could heart desire more of elegance and comfort than you possess?” I +glanced around the richly decorated apartment in which we were seated. + +“Gilded misery, Doctor!” She emphasized her words. + +I looked at her without speaking. She understood my expression of +surprise. + +“I need not tell you, Doctor, that a fine house and fine furniture are +not everything in this world.” + +I thought her waking up to a better state of mind, through the +irrepressible yearnings of a soul that could find no sustenance amid the +husks of this outer life. + +“They go but a little way towards making up the aggregate of human +happiness,” said I. + +“All well enough in their place. But, to my thinking, sadly out of place +here. We must have society, Doctor.” + +“True.” My voice was a little rough. I had mistaken her. + +“But there is no society here!” And she tossed her head a little +contemptuously. + +“Not much fashionable society I will grant you, Delia.” + +She pursed up her lips and looked disagreeable. + +“I shall die of ennui before six months. What am I to do with myself?” + +“Act like a true woman,” said I, firmly. + +She lifted her eyes suddenly to my face as if I had presumed. + +“Do your duty as a wife and mother,” I added, “and there will be no +danger of your dying with ennui.” + +“You speak as if I were derelict in this matter.” + +She drew herself up with some dignity of manner. + +“I merely prescribed a remedy for a disease from which you are +suffering,” said I, calmly. “Thousands of women scattered all over the +land are martyrs to this disease; and there is only one remedy--that +which I offer to you, Delia.” + +I think she saw, from my manner, that it would be useless to quarrel +with me. I was so much in earnest that truth came to my lips in any +attempt at utterance. + +“What would you have me do, Doctor?” There was a petty fretfulness in +her voice. “Turn cook or nursery-maid?” + +“Yes, rather than sit idle, and let your restless mind fret itself for +want of useful employment into unhappiness.” + +“I cannot take your prescription in that crude form,” she replied, with +more seriousness than I had expected. + +“It is not requisite to a cure,” said I. “Only let your thought and +purpose fall into the sphere of home. Think of your husband as one to be +made happier by your personal control of such household matters as touch +his comfort; of your babes as tender, precious things, blessed by your +sleepless care, or hurt by your neglect; of your domestics, as requiring +orderly supervision, lest they bring discord into your home, or waste +your substance. Every household, Delia, is a little government, and the +governor must be as watchful over all its concerns as the governor of a +state. Take, then, the reins of office firmly into your hands, dispose +of everything according to the best of your judgment, and require +orderly obedience from every subject. But act wisely and kindly. Do +this, my young friend, and you will not be troubled with the fashionable +complaint--ennui.” + +“That is, sink down into a mere housekeeper,” she remarked; “weigh out +the flour, count the eggs, fill the sugar bowls, and grow learned in +cookery-books. I think I see myself wandering about from cellar to +garret, jingling a great bunch of keys, prying into rubbish-corners, and +scolding lazy cooks and idle chambermaids!” + +She laughed a short, artificial laugh, and then added-- + +“Is that the picture of what you mean, Doctor?” + +“It is the picture of a happier woman than you are, Delia,” said I, +seriously. + +The suggestion seemed to startle her. + +“You speak very confidently, Doctor.” + +“With the confidence of one who makes diseases and their cure his study. +I know something of the human soul as well as the human body, and of the +maladies to which both are subjected. A cure is hopeless in either case, +unless the patient will accept the remedy. Pain of body is the indicator +of disease, and gives warning that an enemy to life has found a +lodgment; pain of mind is the same phenomenon, only showing itself in a +higher sphere, and for the same purpose. If you are unhappy, surrounded +by all this elegance, and with the means of gratifying every orderly +wish, it shows that an enemy to your soul has entered through some +unguarded gateway. You cannot get rid of this enemy by any change +of place, or by any new associations. Society will not help you. The +excitement of shows; gauds, glitter, pageants; the brief triumphs gained +in fashionable tournaments, will not expel this foe of your higher and +nobler life, but only veil, for brief seasons, his presence from your +consciousness. When these are past, and you retire into yourself, then +comes back the pain, the languor, the excessive weariness. Is it not so, +Delia? Is not this your sad experience?” + +I paused. Her eyes had fallen to the floor. She sat very still, like one +who was thinking deeply. + +“The plodding housekeeper, whose picture you drew just now--humble, +even mean in your regard though she be--sinks to peaceful sleep when her +tasks are done, and rises refreshed at coming dawn. If she is happier +than your fine lady, whose dainty hands cannot bear the soil of these +common things, why? Ponder this subject, Delia. It concerns you deeply. +It is the happiest state in life that we all strive to gain; but you may +lay it up in your heart as immutable truth, that happiness never comes +to any one, except through a useful employment of all the powers which +God has given to us. The idle are the most miserable--and none are more +miserable in their ever-recurring ennuied hours, than your fashionable +idlers. We see them only in their holiday attire, tricked out for show, +and radiant in reflected smiles. Alas! If we could go back with them to +their homes, and sit beside them, unseen, in their lonely hours, would +not pity fill our hearts? My dear young friend! Turn your feet aside +from this way--it is the path that leads to unutterable wretchedness.” + +The earnestness of my manner added force to what I said, and constrained +at least a momentary conviction. + +“You speak strongly, Doctor,” she said, with the air of one who could +not look aside from an unpleasant truth. + +“Not too strongly, Delia. Is it not as I have said? Are not your mere +society-ladies too often miserable at home?” + +She sighed heavily, as if unpleasant images were forcing themselves upon +her mind. I felt that I might follow up the impression I had made, and +resumed: + +“There was a time, Delia--and it lies only three or four short years +backward on your path of life--when I read in your opening mind a +promise of higher things than have yet been attained--you must pardon +the freedom of an old but true friend. A time when thought, taste, +feeling were all building for themselves a habitation, the stones +whereof were truths, and the decorations within and without pure and +good affections. All this”--I glanced at the rich furniture, mirrors, +and curtains--“is poor and mean to that dwelling place of the soul, the +foundations for which you once commenced laying. Are you happier now +than then? Have the half bewildering experiences through which you have +passed satisfied you that you are in the right way? That life's highest +blessings are to be found in these pageantries? Think, think, my dear +young friend! Look inwards. Search into your heart, and try the quality +of its motives. Examine the foundation upon which you are building, and +if it is sand, in heaven's name stop, and look for solid earth on which +to place the corner stone of your temple of happiness.” + +“You bewilder me, Doctor,” she said, in reply to this. “I can't think, +I can't look inwards. If I am building on a sandy foundation, God help +me!--for I cannot turn back to search for the solid earth of which you +speak.” + +“But--” + +She raised her hand and said, + +“Spare me, Doctor. I know you are truthful and sincere--a friend who +may be trusted--but you cannot see as I see, nor know as I know. I have +chosen my way, and must walk in it, even to the end, let it terminate as +it will. I had once a dream of other things--a sweet, entrancing dream +while it lasted--but to me it can never be more than a dream. There +are quiet, secluded, peaceful ways in life, and happy are they who are +content to walk in them. But they are not for my feet, and I do not envy +those who hide themselves in tranquil valleys, or linger on the distant +hill-slopes. The crowd, the hum, the shock of social life for me!” + +“But this you cannot have in S----. And is it not the part of a wise +woman--” + +“Again, Doctor, let me beg of you to spare me.” she said, lifting her +hands, and turning her face partly away. “I only half comprehend you, +and am hurt and disturbed by your well-meant suggestions. I am not a +wise woman, in your sense of the word, and cannot take your admonitions +to heart. Let us talk of something else.” + +And she changed the subject, as well as her whole manner and expression +of countenance, with a promptness that surprised me; showing the +existence of will and self-control that in a right direction would have +given her large power for good. + +It was the first and last time I ventured to speak with her so freely. +Always afterwards, when we met, there was an impression of uneasiness +on her part, as if she had an unpleasant remembrance, or feared that I +would venture upon some disagreeable theme. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Steadily, under the busy hands of hundreds of workmen, the new buildings +arose, stretching their far lengths along, and towering up, story after +story. Steam, in addition to water power, was contemplated here also, +for the looms and spindles to be driven were nearly twice the number +contained in the other mill. + +Disappointments and vexatious delays nearly always attend large building +operations, and the present case formed no exception. The time within +which everything was to be completed, and the mill to go into operation, +was one year. Two years elapsed before the first bale of goods came +through its ample doors, ready for market. + +Of course there was a large expenditure of money in S----, and this was +a great thing for our town. Property rose in value, houses were built, +and the whole community felt that a new era had dawned--an era of growth +and prosperity. Among other signs of advancement, was the establishment +of a new Bank. The “Clinton Bank” it was called. The charter had been +obtained through the influence of Judge Bigelow, who had several warm +personal friends in the Legislature. There was not a great deal of loose +money in S----to flow easily into bank stocks; but for all that the +shares were soon taken, and all the provisions of the charter complied +with. Judge Bigelow subscribed freely; so did Squire Floyd and Mr. +Dewey. Other townsmen, to the number of twenty or thirty, put down their +names for a few shares. It was from New York, however, that the largest +subscriptions came; and it was New York shareholders, voting by proxy, +who elected the Board of Directors, and determined the choice of +officers. Judge Bigelow was elected President, and a Mr. Joshua King, +from New York, Cashier. The tellers and book-keepers were selected from +among our own people. + +The Clinton Bank and the new mills went into operation about the same +time. Years of prosperity followed. Money was plenty in our town, and +everybody was growing better off. Dewey was still the manufacturing +partner of the large house in New York, whose demand for goods it seemed +impossible to satisfy. He was a great man in S----. People spoke of +him as possessing vast mental as well as money resources; as having +expansive views of trade and finance; as being a man of extraordinary +ability. I listened to all these things as I passed around among our +citizens, plodding along in my profession, and managing to grow just a +little better off each year; and wondered within myself if I were really +mistaken in the man--if there was a solid basis of right judgment below +all this splendid seeming. + +And what of our friend Wallingford, during those busy years? Like +myself, he moved so quietly through his round of professional duties, +as to attract little attention. But he had been growing in all this +time--growing in mental stature; and growing in the confidence of all +just men. Judge Bigelow's interest in the mills, and in the new Bank, +drew his attention so much away from his law cases, that clients began +to grow dissatisfied, and this threw a great deal of excellent business +into the hands of Wallingford, who, if not always successful in his +cases, so managed them as to retain the confidence and good will of all +who employed him. He got the character in our town of a safe adviser. If +a man had a difficulty with a neighbor, and talked of going to law with +him, in all probability some one would say-- + +“Go to Mr. Wallingford; he will tell you, on the spot, if there is any +chance for you in Court.” + +And he bore this character justly. A thorn in the side he had proved +to the three great mill owners, Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph +Dewey. The two former failed entirely, in his view, as to the right +steps for discovering the heirs to the large property in their hands, +all of which had been changed from its original position; while the +latter showed ill-feeling whenever Wallingford, as he continued to do, +at stated intervals, filed interrogatories, and required answers as to +the condition of the trust, and the prospects of finding heirs. + +Ten years had elapsed since the discovery of Mr. Allen's will, and yet +no heirs had presented themselves. And now Mr. Wallingford took formal +issue in the case, and demanded the property for his client, Mrs. +Montgomery, who was still living in Boston with her daughter, in a +retired way. Nearly one-half of her income had been cut off, and her +circumstances were, in consequence, greatly reduced. Her health was +feeble, having steadily declined since her removal from S----. An +occasional letter passed between her and my wife; and it was in this way +that I learned of her health and condition. How free was all she wrote +from repining or despondency--how full of Christian faith, hope, and +patience! You could not read one of her letters without growing stronger +for the right--without seeing the world as through a reversed telescope. + +A time was fixed for hearing the case, which, now that it assumed this +important shape, excited great interest among the people of S----. When +the matter came fairly into court, Mr. Wallingford presented his clearly +arranged documentary evidence, in proof of Mrs. Montgomery's identity +as the sister of Captain Allen, and claimed the property as hers. He +covered, in anticipation, every possible ground of objection; bringing +forward, at the same time, such an array of precedents and decisions +bearing upon the case, that it was clear to every one on which side the +decision would lie. + +At this important juncture a letter, post-marked in New York on the day +before, was offered in court, and a demand, based on its contents, made +for a stay of proceedings. It came from the Spanish Consul, and was +addressed to Abel Bigelow and John Floyd, executors of the late Captain +Allen, and notified them that he had just received letters from San Juan +De Porto Rico, containing information as to the existence of an heir to +the estate in the person of a boy named Leon Garcia, nephew to the late +Mrs. Allen. The case was immediately laid over until the next term of +court. + +In the meantime, steps were promptly taken to ascertain the truth of +this assumption. An agent was sent out to the island of Porto Rico, who +brought back all the proofs needed to establish the claim, and also the +lad himself, who was represented to be in his fourteenth year. He was +a coarse, wicked-looking boy, who, it was plain, had not yet fully +awakened to a realizing sense of the good fortune that awaited him. + +A resolute opposition was made by Wallingford, but all the evidence +adduced to prove Leon Garcia's relationship to Mrs. Allen was too +clear, and so the court dismissed the case, and appointed Ralph Dewey +as guardian to the boy, who was immediately placed at school in a +neighboring town. + +So ended this long season of suspense. Immediately on the decision +of the case, Wallingford went to Boston to see Mrs. Montgomery, and +remained absent nearly a week. I saw him soon after his return. + +“How did she bear this final dashing of her hopes to the earth?” I +asked. + +“As any one who knew her well might have expected,” he answered, with so +little apparent feeling that I thought him indifferent. + +“As a Christian philosopher,” said I. + +“You make use of exactly the right words,” he remarked. “Yes, as a +Christian philosopher. As one who thinks and reasons as well as feels. I +have seen a great many so-called religious people in my time. People who +had much to say about their-spiritual experiences and hopes of heaven. +But never one who so made obedience to the strict law of right, in all +its plain, common-sense interpretations, a matter of common duty. I +do not believe that for anything this world could offer her, Mrs. +Montgomery would swerve a hair's breadth from justice. I have been in +the position to see her tempted; have, myself, been the tempter over and +over again during the ten years in which I represented her claims to the +Allen estate; but her principles were immovable as the hills. Once, I +shall never forget the incident--I pressed her to adopt a certain course +of procedure, involving a law quibble, in order to get possession of the +property. She looked at me for a moment or two, with a flushing face. +Then her countenance grew serene, almost heavenly, and she gave me this +memorable reply--'Mr. Wallingford, I have a richer estate than this +in expectancy, and cannot mar the title.' And she has not marred it, +Doctor.” + +“How did her daughter receive the news?” I inquired. I thought he turned +his face a little away, as he answered. + +“Not so well as her mother.” I knew his voice was lower. “When I +announced the fact that the claims of young Garcia had been admitted +by the court, tears sprung to her eyes, and a shadow fell upon her +countenance such as I have never seen there before.” + +“She is younger and less disciplined,” said I. + +“Few at her age,” he answered, “are so well disciplined” + +“Will they still remain in Boston?” I asked. + +“Yes, for the present,” he answered, and we parted. A few months after +this, my wife said to me one day, + +“Did you hear that Mr. Wallingford had bought the pretty little cottage +on Cedar Lane, where Jacob Homer lived?” + +“Is that true?” + +“It is said so. In fact, I heard it from Jane Homer, and that is pretty +good authority.” + +“Is he going to live there with his mother?” + +“Jane did not know. Her husband went behind hand the year he built +the cottage, and never was able to get up even with the world. So +they determined to sell their place, pay off their debts, and find +contentment in a rented house. Mr. Homer said something to Mr. +Wallingford on the subject, and he offered to buy the property at a fair +price.” + +A few days afterwards, in passing along Cedar Lane, I noticed a +carpenter at work in the pretty cottage above referred to; and also a +gardener who was trimming the shrubbery. + +Good morning, William, “I spoke to the gardener with whom I was well +acquainted. This is a nice cozy place.” + +“Indeed and it is, Doctor. Mr. Homer took great pride in it.” + +“And showed much taste in gardening.” + +“You may well say that, Doctor. There isn't a finer shrubbery to any +garden in S----.” + +“Is Mr. Wallingford going to live here, or does he intend renting the +cottage?” + +“That's more than I can answer, Doctor. Mr. Wallingford isn't the man, +you know, to talk with everybody about his affairs.” + +“True enough, William,” said I smiling and passed on. + +“Did you know,” said my wife, a few weeks later, “that Mr. Wallingford +was furnishing the cottage on Cedar Lane?” + +“Ah! Is that so?” + +“Yes. Mrs. Dean told me that Jones the cabinet maker had the order, +which was completed, and that the furniture was now going in. +Everything, she says, is plain and neat, but good.” + +“Why, what can this mean, Constance? Is our young friend about to +marry?” + +“It has a look that way, I fancy.” + +“But who is the bride to be?” I asked. + +“Mrs. Dean thinks it is Florence Williams.” + +“A fine girl; but hardly worthy of Henry Wallingford. Besides, he is ten +year her senior,” said I. + +“What is the difference in our ages, dear?” Constance turned her fresh +young face to mine--fresh and young still, though more than thirty-five +years had thrown across it their lights and shadows, and laid her head +fondly against my breast. + +I kissed her tenderly, and she answered her own question. + +“Ten years; and you are not so much my senior. I do not see any force +in that objection. Still if I had been commissioned to select a wife for +Mr. Wallingford, I would not have chosen Florence Williams.” + +“Her father is well off, and growing richer every day.” + +“Worth taking into the account, I suppose, as one of the reasons in +favor of the choice,” said my wife. “But I hardly think Wallingford is +the man to let that consideration have much influence.” + +There was no mistake about the matter of furnishing Ivy Cottage, as the +place was called. I saw carpets going in on the very next day. All the +shrubbery had been trimmed, the grounds cleared up and put in order, and +many choice flowers planted in borders already rich in floral treasures. + +Curiosity now began to flutter its wings, lift up its head, and look +around sharply. Many arrows had taken their flight towards the heart of +our young bachelor lawyer, but, until now, there had been no evidence +of a wound. What fair maiden had conquered at last? I met him not long +after, walking in the street with Florence Williams. She looked smiling +and happy; and his face was brighter than I had ever seen it. This +confirmed to me the rumor. + +Mrs. Wallingford was not to be approached on the subject. If she knew +of an intended marriage, she feigned ignorance; and affected not to +understand the hints, questions, and surmises of curious neighbors. + +A week or two later, and I missed Wallingford from his office. The lad +in attendance said that he was away from the town, but would return in a +few days. + +“I have a surprise for you,” said my wife on that very afternoon. She +had a letter in her hand just received by post. Her whole face was +radiant with pleasure. Drawing a card from the envelope, she held it +before my eyes. I read the names of _Henry Wallingford_ and _Blanche +Montgomery_, and the words, “At home Wednesday evening, June 15th. Ivy +Cottage.” + +“Bravo!” I exclaimed, as soon as a momentary bewilderment passed, +showing more than my wonted enthusiasm. “The best match since Hymen +linked our fates together, Constance.” + +“May it prove as happy a one!” my wife answered, with a glance of +tenderness. + +“It will, Constance--it will. That is a marriage after my own heart; one +that I have, now and then, dimly foreshadowed in imagination, but never +thought to see.” + +“It is over five years since we saw Blanche,” remarked Constance. “I +wonder how she looks! If life's sunshine and rain have produced a rich +harvest in her soul, or only abraded the surface, and marred the +sweet beauty that captivated us of old! I wonder how she has borne the +shadowing of earthly prospects--the change from luxurious surroundings!” + +“They have not dimmed the virgin gold; you may be sure of that, +Constance,” was my reply to this. + +“At home, Wednesday evening, June fifteenth.” + +And this was Tuesday. Only a single day intervened. And yet it seemed +like a week in anticipation, so eager did we grow for the promised +re-union with friends whose memory was in our hearts as the sound of +pleasant music. + +It was eight o'clock, on Wednesday evening, when we entered Ivy Cottage, +our hearts beating with quickened strokes under their burden of pleasant +anticipation. What a queenly woman stood revealed to us, as we entered +the little parlor! I would hardly have known her as the almost shrinking +girl from whom we parted not many years before. How wonderfully she had +developed! Figure, face, air, manner, attitude--all showed the woman +of heart, mind, and purpose. Yet, nothing struck you as masculine; but +rather as exquisitely feminine. It took but one glance at her serene +face, to solve the query as to whether there had been a free gift of +heart as well as hand. My eyes turned next to the pale, thin face of +Mrs. Montgomery, who sat, or half reclined, in a large cushioned chair. +She was looking at her daughter. That expression of blended love and +pride, will it ever cease to be a sweet picture in my memory? All was +right--I saw that in the first instant of time. + +The reception was not a formal one. There was no display of orange +blossoms, airy veils, and glittering jewels--but a simple welcoming of +a few old friends, who had come to heart-congratulations. It was +the happiest bridal reception--always excepting the one in which my +Constance wore the orange wreath--that I had ever seen. Do you inquire +of Wallingford, as to how he looked and seemed? Worthy of the splendid +woman who stood by his side and leaned towards him with such a sweet +assurance. How beautiful it was to see the proud look with which she +turned her eyes upon him, whenever he spoke! It was plain, that to her, +his words had deeper meanings in them, than came to other ears. + +“It is all right, I see.” I had drawn a chair close to the one in which +Mrs. Montgomery sat, and was holding in mine the thin, almost shadowy +hand which she had extended. + +“Yes, it is all right, Doctor,” she answered, as a smile lit up her pale +face. “All right, and I am numbered among the happiest of mothers. He +is not titled, nor rich, nor noble in the vulgar sense--but titled, and +rich, and noble as God gives rank and wealth. I came to this land of +promise ten years ago, in search of an estate for my child; and I +have found it, at last. Ah, Doctor”--and site glanced upwards as she +spoke--“His ways are not as our ways. And if we will only trust in Him, +He will bring such things to pass, as never entered into the imagination +of our hearts. I did not dream of this man as the husband of my child, +when I gave my business into his care. The remote suggestion of such +a thing would have offended me; for my heart was full of false pride, +though I knew it not. But there was a destiny for Blanche, foreshadowed +for me then, but not seen.” + +“It is the quality of the man,” I said, “that determines the quality +of the marriage. She who weds best, weds the truest man. The rank +and wealth are of the last consideration. To make them first, is the +blindest folly of the blindest.” + +“Ah, if this were but rightly understood”--said Mrs. Montgomery--“what +new lives would people begin to live in the world! How the shadows +that dwell among so many households--even those of the fairest external +seeming--would begin to lift themselves upward and roll away, letting in +the sunlight and filling the chambers of discord with heavenly music! I +have sometimes thought, that more than half the misery which curses the +world springs from discordant marriages.” + +“The estimate is low,” I answered. “If you had said two-thirds, you +would have been, perhaps, nearer the truth.” + +Blanche crossed the room, and came and stood by her mother's chair, +looking down into her face with a loving smile. + +“I am afraid the journey has been too much for you,” she said, with a +shadow of concern in her face. + +“You look paler than usual.” + +“Paler, because a little fatigued, dear. But a night's rest will bring +me up even again,” Mrs. Montgomery replied cheerfully. + +“How is the pain in your side, now?” asked Blanche, still with a look of +concern. + +“Easier. I scarcely notice it now.” + +“Blanche is over anxious about my health, dear girl!” said Mrs. +Montgomery, as the bride moved to another part of the room. “She thinks +me failing rapidly. And, without doubt, the foundations of this earthly +house are giving way; but I trust, that ere it fall into ruin, a house +not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens, will be ready for my +reception.” + +There was no depressing solemnity in her tones, as she thus alluded to +that event which comes to all; but a smiling cheerfulness of manner that +was contagious. + +“You think of death as a Christian,” said I. + +“And how else should I think of it?” she replied. “Can I not trust Him +in whom I have believed? What is it more than passing from a lower to a +higher state of life--from the natural to the spiritual world? When the +hour comes, I will lay me down in peace and sleep.” + +She remained silent for some moments, her thoughts apparently indrawn. +The brief, closing sentence was spoken as if she were lapsing into +reverie. I thought the subject hardly in place for a wedding occasion, +and was about starting another theme, when she said-- + +“Do you not think, Doctor, that this dread of dying, which haunts most +people like a fearful spectre--the good as well as the bad--is a very +foolish thing? We are taught, from childhood, to look forward to death +as the greatest of all calamities; as a change attended by indefinable +terrors. Teachers and preachers ring in our ears the same dread chimes, +thrilling the strongest nerves and appalling the stoutest hearts. Death +is pictured to us as a grim monster; and we shudder as we look at the +ghastly apparition. Now, all this comes from what is false. Death is +not the crowning evil of our lives; but the door through which we pass, +tranquilly, into that eternal world, which is our destined home. I hold +in my thought a different picture of Death from that which affrighted +me in childhood. The form is one of angelic beauty, and the countenance +full of love. I know, that when I pass along the dark and narrow way +that leads from this outer world of nature, to the inner world from +which it has existence, that my hand will rest firmly in that of an +angel, commissioned of God to guide my peaceful footsteps. Is not that a +better faith?” + +“Yes, a better and a truer,” said I. + +“It is not the death passage that we need fear. That has in it no +intrinsic evil. It is the sleep of mortality, and the rest is sweet +to all. If we give place to fear, let it be for that state beyond the +bourne, which will be unhappy in the degree that we are lovers of self +and the world--that is, lovers of evil instead of good. As the tree +falls, so it lies, Doctor. As our quality is at death, so will it remain +to all eternity. Here is the just occasion for dread.” + +She would have kept on, but her attention was drawn away by the remark +of a lady who came up at the moment. I left her side and passed to +another part of the room; but her words, tone, and impressive manner +remained with me. I turned my eyes often during the evening upon her +pale, pure face, which seemed like a transparent veil through which the +spirit half revealed itself. How greatly she had changed in five years! +There had been trial and discipline; and she had come up from them +purer for the ordeal. The flesh had failed; but the spirit had taken on +strength and beauty. + +“How did Mrs. Montgomery impress you?” said I to my wife, as we sat down +together on our return home. + +“As one ready to be translated,” she answered. “I was at a loss to +determine which was the most beautiful, she or Blanche.” + +“You cannot make a comparison between them as to beauty,” I remarked. + +“Not as to beauty in the same degree. The beauty of Blanche was queenly; +that of her mother angelic. All things lovely in nature were collated, +and expressed themselves in the younger as she stood blushing in the +ripeness of her charms; while all things lovely in the soul beamed forth +from the countenance of the elder. And so, as I have said, I was at a +loss to determine which was most beautiful.” + +I was just rising from my early breakfast on the next morning when I +received a hurried message from Ivy Cottage. The angel of Death had been +there. Tenderly and lovingly had he taken the hand of Mrs. Montgomery, +and led her through the gate that opens into the land of immortals. +She received her daughter's kiss at eleven o'clock, held her for some +moments, gazing into her face, and then said--“Good-night, my precious +one! Good-night, and God bless you!” At seven in the morning she was +found lying in bed with a smile on her face, but cold and lifeless as +marble! There had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +No;--there had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. As a child +falls asleep in its mother's arms, so fell Mrs. Montgomery asleep in the +arms of an angel--tranquil, peaceful, happy. I say happy--for in lapsing +away into that mortal sleep, of which our natural sleep is but an image, +shall the world-weary who have in trial and suffering grown heavenly +minded, sink into unconsciousness with less of tranquil delight than the +babe pillowed against its mother's bosom? I think not. + +As I gazed upon her dead face, where the parting soul had left its sign +of peace, I prayed that, when I passed from my labors, there might be as +few stains of earth upon my garments. + +“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, Yea, saith the Spirit, for +they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.” + +I found myself repeating these holy words, as I stood looking at the +white, shrunken features of the departed. + +It was not until the next day that I saw Blanche. But Constance was with +her immediately after the sad news jarred upon her sympathizing heart. + +“How did you leave her?” was my anxious query, on meeting my wife at +home. + +“Calm,” was the brief answer. + +How much the word included! + +“Did you talk with her?” + +“Not a great deal; she did not seem inclined to talk, like some who seek +relief through expression. I found her alone in the room next to the one +in which the body of her mother was lying. She was sitting by a table, +with one hand pressed over her eyes, as I entered. 'Oh, my friend! my +dear friend!' she said, in a tone of grief, rising and coming a step or +two to meet me. I drew my arms around her, and she laid her head against +me and sobbed three or four times, while the tears ran down and dropped +upon the floor. 'It is well with her!' I said. + +“'Oh, yes, my friend, it is well with her,' she answered, mournfully, +'well with her, but not with me. How shall I walk onward in life's +difficult ways, without my mother's arm to lean upon? My steps already +hesitate.' + +“'You have another arm to lean upon,' I ventured to suggest. + +“'Yes, a strong arm upon which I can lean in unfaltering trust. In this +God has been good to me. But my wise, patient mother--how shall I live +without her?' + +“'She is only removed from you as to bodily presence,' said I. 'Love +conjoins your souls as intimately as ever.' + +“'Ah, yes, I know this must be. Too many times have I heard that +comforting truth from her lips ever to forget it. But while we are in +the body, the mind will not rest satisfied with any thing less than +bodily presence.' + +“I did not press the point, for I knew that in all sorrow the heart is +its own best comforter, and gathers for itself themes of consolation +that even the nearest friend would fail to suggest. We went in together +to look at the frail tabernacle from which the pure spirit of her mother +had departed forever! How sweetly the smile left upon the lips in the +last kiss of parting, lingered there still, fixed in human marble with +more than a sculptor's art! There was no passionate weeping, as we stood +by the lifeless clay. Very calm and silent she was; but oh, what a look +of intense love went out from her sad eyes! Not despairing but hopeful +love. The curtain of death hid from her no land of shadows and mystery; +but a world of spiritual realities. Her mother had not gone shrinking +and trembling into regions of darkness and doubt; but in the blessed +assurance of a peaceful reception in the house of her friends. + +“How a true faith,” said I, strongly impressed by the images which +were presented to my mind, “strips from death its old terrors! When the +Apostle exclaimed, 'Oh, grave, where is thy victory? oh, death, where +is thy sting?' his mind looked deeper into the mystery of dying, and +saw farther into the world beyond, than do our modern Christians, who +frighten us with images of terror. 'I will lay me down in peace +and sleep,' when the time of my departure comes, should be the +heart-language of every one who takes upon himself the name of Him who +said, 'In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place +for you, that where I am, ye may be also.'” + +“Since I knew Mrs. Montgomery, and felt the sphere of her quality,” said +Constance, “my perceptions of life and duty here, and their connection +with life and happiness hereafter, have been elevated to a higher +region. I see no longer as in a glass darkly, but in the light of +reason, made clear by the more interior light of Revelation.” + +“And the same is true with me,” I replied. “We may well say that it +was good to have known her. She was so true, so just, so unconscious +of self, that truth, justice, and unselfishness were always lovelier in +your eyes for having seen them illustrated in her person. And there +was no pious cant about her. No parade of her unworthiness; no solemn +aspects, nor obtrusive writings of bitter things against herself. But +always an effort to repress what was evil in her nature; and a state of +quiet, religious trust, which said, 'I know in whom I have believed.'” + +“Ah,” said Constance, “if there was only more of such religion in the +world!” + +“It would be a happier world than it is,” I answered. + +“By the impress of a life like hers, what lasting good is done!” said my +wife. “Such are the salt of the earth. Cities set upon hills. Lights in +candlesticks. They live not in vain!'” + +I did not see Blanche until the day of burial. Her beautiful face was +calm, but very pale. It bore strongly the impress of sorrow, but not of +that hopeless sorrow which we so often see on these mournful occasions. +It was very plain that her thoughts were not lingering around the +shrouded and coffined form of what was once her mother's body, but were +following her into the world beyond our mortal vision, as we follow a +dear friend who has gone from us on a long journey. + +And thus it was that Blanche Montgomery entered upon her new life. +Death's shadow fell upon the torch of Hymen. There was a rain of grief +just as the sun of love poured forth his brightest beams, and the bow +which spanned the horizon gave, in that hour of grief, sweet promise for +the future. + +These exciting events in the experience of our young friends had come +upon us so suddenly, that our minds were half bewildered. A few weeks +served, however, to bring all things into a right adjustment with our +own daily life and thought, and Ivy Cottage became one of the places +that grew dearer to us for the accumulating memories of pleasant hours +spent there with true-hearted ones who were living for something more +than the unreal things of this world. + +How many times was the life that beat so feverishly in the Allen House, +and that which moved to such even pulsings in Ivy Cottage, contrasted in +my observation! Ten years of a marriage such as Delia Floyd so unwisely +consummated, had not served for the development of her inner life to any +right purpose. She had kept on in the wrong way taken by her feet in +the beginning, growing purse proud, vain, ambitious of external +pre-eminence, worldly-minded, and self-indulgent. She had four children, +who were given up almost wholly to the care of hirelings. There was, +consequent upon neglect, ignorance, and bad regimen, a great deal of +sickness among them, and I was frequently called in to interpose my +skill for their relief. Poor little suffering ones! how often I pitied +them An occasional warning was thrown in, but it was scarcely heeded +by the mother, who had put on towards me a reserved stateliness, that +precluded all friendly remonstrance. + +At least two months of every summer Mrs. Dewey was absent from S----, +intermitting between Saratoga and Newport, where she abandoned herself +to all the excitements of fashionable dissipation. Regularly each year +we saw her name in the New York correspondence of the Herald, as the +“fascinating Mrs. D----;” the “charming wife of Mr. D----;” or in some +like style of reference. At last, coupled with one of these allusions, +was an intimation that “it might be well if some discreet friend would +whisper in the lady's ear that she was a little too intimate with men of +doubtful reputation; particularly in the absence of her husband.” + +This paragraph was pointed out to me by one of my patients. I read it +with a throb of pain. A little while afterwards I passed Mr. Floyd and +Mr. Dewey in the street. They were walking rapidly, and conversing in an +excited manner. I saw them take the direction of the depot. + +“Here is trouble!” I said, sighing to myself. “Trouble that gold cannot +gild, nor the sparkle of diamonds hide. Alas! alas! that a human soul, +in which was so fair a promise, should get so far astray!” + +I met Mr. Floyd half an hour later. His face was pale and troubled, and +his eyes upon the ground. He did not see me--or care to see me--and so +we passed without recognition. + +Before night the little warning sentence, written by the Saratoga +correspondent, was running from lip to lip all over S----. Some pitied, +some blamed, and not a few were glad in their hearts of the disgrace; +for Mrs. Dewey had so carried herself among us as to destroy all +friendly feeling. + +There was an expectant pause for several days. Then it was noised +through the town that Mr. Dewey had returned, bringing his wife home +with him. I met him in the street on the day after. There was a heavy +cloud on his brow. Various rumors were afloat. One was--it came from a +person just arrived from Saratoga--that Mr. Dewey surprised his wife in +a moonlight walk with a young man for whom he had no particular fancy, +and under such lover-like relations, that he took the liberty of caning +the gentleman on the spot. Great excitement followed. The young +man resisted--Mrs. Dewey screamed in terror--people flocked to the +place--and mortifying exposure followed. This story was in part +corroborated by the following paragraph in the Herald's Saratoga +correspondence: + +“We had a spicy scene, a little out of the regular performance, last +evening; no less than the caning of a New York sprig of fashion, who +made himself rather more agreeable to a certain married lady who dashes +about here in a queenly way than was agreeable to her husband. The +affair was hushed up. This morning I missed the lady from her usual +place at the breakfast-table. Later in the day I learned that her +husband had taken her home. If he'll accept my advice, he will keep her +there.” + +“Poor Mrs. Floyd!” It was the mother's deep sorrow and humiliation that +touched the heart of my Constance when this disgraceful exposure reached +her. “She has worn to me a troubled look for this long while,” she +added. “The handsome new house which the Squire built, and into which +they moved last year, has not, with all its elegant accompaniments, made +her any more cheerful than she was before. Mrs. Dean told me that her +sister was very much opposed to leaving her old home; but the Squire +has grown rich so fast that he must have everything in the external +to correspond with his improved circumstances. Ah me! If, with riches, +troubles so deep must come, give me poverty as a blessing.” + +A week passed, and no one that I happened to meet knew, certainly, +whether Mrs. Dewey was at home or not. Then she suddenly made her +appearance riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as +self-assured as of old. + +“That was a strange story about Mrs. Dewey,” said I to a lady whom I +was visiting professionally. I knew her to be of Mrs. Dewey's set. +Don't smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a fashionable +“set,” in S----, and Mrs. Dewey was the leader. + +The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked +knowing and mysterious. I had expected this, for I knew my subject very +well. + +“You were at Saratoga,” I added; “and must know whether rumor has +exaggerated her conduct.” + +“Well, Doctor,” said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on the +air of one who spoke in confidence. “I must say that our friend was not +as discreet as she might have been. Nothing wrong--that is, criminal--of +course. But the truth is, she is too fond of admiration, and encourages +the attentions of young men a great deal more than is discreet for any +married woman.” + +“There was an actual rencontre between Mr. Dewey and a person he thought +too familiar with his wife?” said I. + +“Oh, yes. Why, it was in the newspapers!” + +“How was it made up between the parties?” + +“It isn't made up at all, I believe; There's been some talk of a duel.” + +“A sad affair,” said I. “How could Mrs. Dewey have been so thoughtless?” + +“She isn't prudent, by any means,” answered this intimate friend. “I +often look at the way she conducts herself at public places, and wonder +at her folly.” + +“Folly, indeed, if her conduct strikes at the root of domestic +happiness.” + +The lady shook her head in a quiet, meaning way. + +I waited for her to put her thoughts into words, which she did in a few +moments after this fashion: + +“There's not much domestic happiness to spoil, Doctor, so far as I can +see. I don't think she cares a farthing for her husband; and he seems to +have his mind so full of grand business schemes as to have no place left +for the image of his wife. At least, so I read him.” + +“How has this matter affected their relation one to the other?” + +“I have not seen them together since her return, and therefore cannot +speak from actual observation,” she replied. + +There was nothing very definite in all this, yet it revealed such an +utter abandonment of life's best hopes--such a desolation of love's +pleasant land--such a dark future for one who might have been so nobly +blest in a true marriage union, that I turned from the theme with a sad +heart. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Almost daily, while the pleasant fall weather lasted, did I meet the +handsome carriage of Mrs. Dewey; but I noticed that she went less +through the town, and oftener out into the country. And I also noticed +that she rode alone more frequently than she had been accustomed to do. +Formerly, one fashionable friend or another, who felt it to be an honor +to sit in the carriage of Mrs. Dewey, was generally to be seen in her +company when she went abroad. Now, the cases were exceptional. I also +noticed a gathering shade of trouble on her face. + +The fact was, opinion had commenced setting against her. The unhappy +affair at Saratoga was not allowed to sleep in the public mind of S----. +It was conned over, magnified, distorted, and added to, until it assumed +most discreditable proportions; and ladies who respected themselves +began to question whether it was altogether reputable to be known as her +intimate friends. The less scrupulous felt the force of example as set +by these, and began receding also. In a large city, like New York, the +defection would only have been partial; for there, one can be included +in many fashionable circles, while only a few of them may be penetrated +by a defaming rumor. But in a small town like S----, the case is +different. + +I was surprised when I comprehended the meaning of this apparent +isolation of herself by Mrs. Dewey, and saw, in progress, the ban of +social ostracism. While I pitied the victim, I was glad that we had +virtue enough, even among our weak-minded votaries of fashion, to stamp +with disapproval the conduct of which she had been guilty. + +“I saw Mrs. Dewey this morning,” said my wife, one day, late in +November. “She was in at Howard's making some purchases.” + +“Did you speak to her?” + +“Yes, we passed a few words. How much she has changed!” + +“For the worse?” + +“Yes. She appears five years older than she did last summer, and has +such a sad, disappointed look, that I could not help pitying her from my +heart.” + +“There are few who need your pity more, Constance. I think she must be +wretched almost beyond endurance. So young, and the goblet which held +the shine of her life broken, and all its precious contents spilled in +the thirsty sand at her feet. Every one seems to have receded from her.” + +“The common sentiment is against her; and yet, I am of those who never +believed her any thing worse than indiscreet.” + +“Her indiscretion was in itself a heinous offence against good morals,” + said I; “and while she has my compassion, I have no wish to see a +different course of treatment pursued towards her.” + +“I haven't much faith in the soundness of this common sentiment against +her,” replied Constance. “There is in it some self-righteousness, a good +deal of pretended horror at her conduct, but very little real virtuous +indignation. It is my opinion that eight out of ten of her old +fashionable friends would be just as intimate with her as ever, though +they knew all about the affair at Saratoga, if they only were in the +secret. It is in order to stand well with the world that they lift their +hands in pretended holy horror.” + +“We cannot expect people to act from any higher principles than they +possess,” said I; “and it is something gained to good morals, when even +those who are corrupt in heart affect to be shocked at departures from +virtue in their friends.” + +“Yes, I can see that. Still, when I look beneath the surface, I feel +that, so far as the motives are concerned, a wrong has been done; and +my soul stirs with a feeling of pity towards Mrs. Dewey, and indignation +against her heartless friends. Do you know, dear, that since I met her +this morning, I have had serious thoughts of calling upon her?” + +“You!” + +Constance gave me one of her placid smiles in answer to my surprised +ejaculation. + +“Yes; why not?” + +“What will people say?” + +“I can tell you what they will not say,” she replied, + +“Well?” + +“They will not say, as they do of her, that of all men, I care least for +my husband.” + +“I am not afraid of their saying that; but--” + +I was a little bewildered by this unexpected thought on the part of my +wife, and did not at first see the matter clear. + +“She has held herself very high, and quite aloof from many of her old +friends,” Constance resumed. “While this was the case, I have not +cared to intrude upon her; although she has been kind and polite to me +whenever we happened to meet. Now, when the summer friends who courted +her are dropping away like autumn leaves, a true friend may draw near +and help her in the trial through which she is passing.” + +“Right, Constance! right!” said I, warmly. “Your clearer eyes have gone +down below, the surface. Oh, yes; call upon her, and be her true friend, +if she will permit you to come near enough. There can be no loss to you; +there may be great gain to her. Was there any thing in her manner that +encouraged you to approach?” + +“I think so. It was this, no doubt, that stirred the suggestion in my +mind.” + +Constance waited a day or two, pondering the matter, and then made a +call at the Allen House. + +“How were you received?” I asked, on meeting her. + +“Kindly,” she said. + +“But with indifference?” + +“No. Mrs. Dewey was surprised, I thought, but evidently pleased.” + +“How long did you stay?” + +“Only for a short time.” + +“What did you talk about?” + +“Scarcely any thing beyond the common-place topics that come up on +formal visits. But I penetrated deep enough into her mind to discover +the 'aching void' there, which she has been so vainly endeavoring to +fill. I do not think she meant to let me see this abyss of wretchedness; +but her efforts to hide it were in vain. Unhappy one! She has been +seeking to quench an immortal thirst at broken cisterns which can hold +no water.” + +“Can you do her any good, Constance?” I asked. + +“If we would do good, we must put ourselves in the way,” she replied. +“Nothing is gained by standing afar off.” + +“Then you mean to call upon her again?” + +“She held my hand at parting, with such an earnest pressure, and looked +at me so kindly when she said, 'Your visit has been very pleasant,' that +I saw the way plain before me.” + +“You will wait until she returns your call?” + +“I cannot say. It will depend upon the way things shape themselves in my +mind. If I can do her good, I shall not stand upon etiquette.” + +As I came in sight of my modest little home a few days afterwards, I +saw the stylish carriage of Mrs. Dewey dash away from my door, taking a +direction opposite to that by which I was approaching. + +“How are the mighty fallen!” It was hardly a good spirit by whom this +thought was quickened, for I was conscious of something like a feeling +of triumph. With an effort I repressed the ungenerous state of mind. + +“So your call has been returned,” said I, on entering our sitting room. + +“Yes. How did you know?” Constance looked up, smiling, but curious. + +“I saw Mrs. Dewey's carriage leave our door as I turned into the street. +Did she come in, or only leave her card?” + +“She came in, and sat for half an hour.” + +“And made herself very agreeable,--was patronizing, and all that?” + +“No--nothing of the kind suggested by your words.” And Constance looked +at me reproachfully. “She was, on the contrary, quiet, subdued, and +womanly. I called to see her, with the manner of one who had about her +no consciousness of inferiority; and she returned the call, without a +sign that I could regard as offensive.” + +“It is well,” I answered, coming back into my better state. “If true +friends can take the place of false friends, who left her the moment a +shadow fell upon her good name, then the occasion of blame may pave the +way to life instead of ruin. There must be remains of early and better +states covered up and hidden away in her soul, but not lost; and by +means of these she may be saved--yet, I fear, that only through deep +suffering will the overlying accretions of folly be broken away.” + +“She is in the hands of one to whom all spirits are precious,” said +Constance, meekly; “and if we can aid in His good work of restoration +and salvation, our reward shall be great.” + +After the lapse of a week, Constance called again upon Mrs. Dewey. She +found her in a very unhappy state of mind, and failed, almost entirely, +in her efforts to throw a few sunbeams across the shadow by which she +was environed. Her reception was neither cold nor cordial. + +“I think,” she said, “that my visit was untimely. Some recent occurrence +had, probably, disturbed her mind so deeply; that she was not able +to rise above the depression that followed. I noticed a bitterness of +feeling about her that was not apparent on the occasion of my first +call; and a hardness of manner and sentiment, that indicated a condition +of mental suffering having its origin in a sense of wrong. Mr. Dewey +passed through the hall, and went out a few minutes after I entered the +house, and before his wife joined me in the parlor. It may have been +fancy; but I thought, while I sat there awaiting her appearance, that I +heard angry words in the room above. The heavy tread of a man's foot +was there; but the sound ceased all at once--so did the voices. A little +while afterwards Mr. Dewey came down stairs, and went out, as I have +said. Some minutes passed before I heard the rustle of Mrs. Dewey's +garments. There was the air of one disturbed and ill at ease about her, +when she entered; and though she made an effort to seem pleased, all was +forced work. Poor woman! The path she selected to walk in through the +world has proved rough and thorny, I fear, beyond any thing dreamed of +in her young imagination.” + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +Weeks passed after this second visit to the Allen House, but the call +was not returned by Mrs. Dewey. We talked the matter over, occasionally, +and concluded that, for some reason best known to herself, the friendly +overtures of Constance were not agreeable to the lady. She was not often +seen abroad, and when she did appear, the closed windows of her carriage +usually hid her face from careful observation. + +Of late, Mr. Dewey was away from S----more than usual, business +connected with the firm of which he was a member requiring his frequent +presence in New York. He did not remain absent over two or three days at +a time. + +Nearly opposite to where I resided lived Mr. Joshua Kling, the Cashier +of the new Clinton Bank. He and Mr. Dewey seemed to be on particularly +friendly terms. Often I noticed the visits of Mr. Dewey to the Cashier's +house after bank hours, and many times in paying evening calls would I +meet the two gentlemen, arm in arm, engaged in close conversation. + +It was pretty generally understood in S----that the Clinton Bank was +in the hands or parties in New York, and that a large proportion of the +discounts made were of paper bearing the endorsement of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee, & Co., which was passed by the directors as the legitimate business +paper received by that house in its extensive business operations; or of +paper drawn to the order of John Floyd & Co., given in payment of goods +manufactured at the mills in S----. It was also generally conceded that +as, through their partner, Mr. Dewey, this firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, +& Co., had invested a large amount of capital in S----, and by their +liberality and enterprise greatly benefited the town, they were +entitled to all the favors it was in the power of the bank to give; more +particularly as the firm was one of great wealth--“solid as gold”--and +the interests of the stockholders would, therefore, be best served by +keeping the line of discount mainly in so safe a channel. + +Now and then a disappointed storekeeper, whose small offerings were +thrown out, would inveigh bitterly against the directors, calling hard +names, and prophesying “a grand explosion one of these days;” but these +invectives and predictions hardly ever found a repetition beyond the +narrow limits of his place of business. + +And so the splendid schemes of Ralph Dewey and Company went on +prospering, while he grew daily in self-importance, and in offensive +superciliousness toward men from whom he had nothing to expect. In +my own case I had little to complain of, as my contact with him was +generally professional, and under circumstances that caused a natural +deference to my skill as a physician. + +Nothing out of the ordinary range of things transpired until towards +Christmas, when my wife received a note from Mrs. Dewey, asking her as a +special favor to call at the Allen House. She was there in half an hour +after the note came to hand. + +I was at home when she returned, and saw the moment I looked into her +face that she had been the witness of something that had moved her +deeply. + +“Is anything wrong with Mrs. Dewey?” I asked. + +“Yes.” Her countenance took on a more serious aspect. + +“In what respect?” + +“The story cannot be told in a sentence. I received a note from her as +you are aware. Its earnest brevity forewarned me that the call involved +something of serious import; and I was not mistaken in this conclusion. +On calling, and asking for Mrs. Dewey, I noticed an air of irresolution +about the servant. 'Mrs. Dewey is not well,' she said, 'and I hardly +think can see company to-day.' + +“'She is not ill, I hope?' said I. + +“'No, ma'am; not ill exactly, but--' and she hesitated and looked +embarrassed. + +“'She will see me,' I spoke confidently. 'Take her my name, and I will +wait here in the parlor.' + +“In a few minutes the girl returned and asked me to walk up stairs. I +followed her to Mrs. Dewey's room. She tapped lightly on the door, which +was opened. I passed in, and found myself alone with Delia. She grasped +my arm tightly as she shut the door and locked it, saying as she did so, +in a voice so altered from her usual tone, that it sounded strangely in +my ears-- + +“'Thank you, my friend, for coming so soon. I am in deep trouble, and +need a counselor as well as a comforter. I can trust you for both.' + +“I drew my arm around her, so that by act I could give more than the +assurance of words, and walked from the door with her to a lounge +between the windows, where we sat down. Her face had a shrunken aspect, +like the face of one who had been sick; and it showed also the marks of +great suffering. + +“'You may trust me as your own sister, Delia,' said I, 'and if in my +power to counsel or to comfort, both will be freely accorded.' + +“I called her Delia, instead of Mrs. Dewey; not from design, but because +the old name by which I had known her was first on my lips. + +“I thought there was a sudden lifting of her eyes as I pronounced this +name. The effect, if any followed, was not to repel, but to draw her +closer. + +“'I am standing,' she said, speaking slowly and solemnly, 'at the edge +of a deep abyss, my way hedged up on both sides, and enemies coming on +behind. I have not strength to spring over; and to fall is destruction. +In my weakness and despair, I turn to you for help. If there is help in +any mortal arm, something tells me it is in yours.' + +“She did not weep, nor show strong emotion. But her face was almost +colorless, and presented an image of woe such as never met my eyes, +except in pictures. + +“'You have heard, no doubt,' she went on, 'some of the stories to +my discredit which have been circulated in S----. That I was gay and +imprudent at Saratoga, cannot be denied--gay and imprudent as are too +many fashionable women, under the exciting allurements of the place. +Little fond flirtations with gentlemen made up a part of our pastime +there. But as for sin--it was not in my thoughts!' She said this with +an emphasis that assured me of its truth. 'A mere life of fashionable +pleasure is a great exhauster of resources. One tires of this excitement +and of that, pushing them aside, as a child does an old or broken toy, +to grasp after something new. It is not surprising, therefore, that mere +pleasure-seeking women forget at times the just proprieties of life, +and, before they are aware of danger, find themselves in very equivocal +positions. This was simply my case. Nothing more--nothing less.' + +“She paused and looked earnestly into my face, to see if I credited this +assertion. + +“'I have never believed any thing else,' said I. + +“A faint, sad smile flitted across her wan face. + +“'The consequences of this error on my part,' she went on, 'threaten +to be of the most disastrous kind. My husband has ever since conducted +himself towards me as if I were a guilty and disgraced thing. We occupy +separate apartments; and though we sit together at the same table, words +rarely pass between us. Occasionally he comes home under the influence +of wine, and then his abuse of me is fearful to think of. If any thing +could waken a thoughtless creature sleeping on enchanted ground, it was +this.' + +“'There has never been anything more than the semblance of love between +us,' she continued. 'The more intimately I came to know him, after +our marriage, the more did my soul separate itself from him, until the +antipodes were not farther apart than we. So we lived on; I seeking a +poor compensation in fashionable emulations and social triumphs; and he +in grand business enterprises--castles in the air perhaps. Living +thus, we have come to this point in our journey; and now the crisis has +arrived!' + +“She paused. + +“' What crisis?' I asked. + +“'He demands a separation.' Her voice choked--'a divorce--' + +“'On what ground?' + +“'On legal ground.' She bent down, covered her face, and uttered a +groan so full of mental anguish, that I almost shuddered as the sound +penetrated my ears. + +“'I am to remain passive,' she resumed, while he charges me before the +proper court, with infidelity, and gains a divorce through failure on +my part to stand forth and defend myself. This, or a public trial of the +case, at which he pledges himself to have witnesses who will prove me +criminal, is my dreadful alternative. If he gains a divorce quietly on +the charge of infidelity, I am wronged and disgraced; and if successful +in a public trial, through perjured witnesses, the wrong and disgrace +will be more terrible. Oh, my friend! pity and counsel me.' + +“'There is one,' said I, 'better able to stand your friend in a crisis +like this than I am.' + +“'Who?' She looked up anxiously. + +“'Your father.' + +“A shadow fell over her face, and she answered mournfully, + +“'Even he is against me. How it is I cannot tell; but my husband seems +to have my father completely under his influence.' + +“'Your mother?' I suggested. + +“'Can only weep with me. I have no adviser, and my heart beats so wildly +all the time, that thought confuses itself whenever it makes an effort +to see the right direction. Fear of a public trial suggests passive +endurance of wrong on my part; but an innate sense of justice cries out +against this course, and urges me to resistance.' + +“'If you are innocent,' said I, firmly, 'in the name and strength of +innocence defend yourself! All that a woman holds dearest is at stake. +If they drive you to this great extremity, do not shrink from the +trial.' + +“'But what hope have I in such a trial if false witnesses come up +against me?' + +“'God and justice are stronger than all the powers of evil,' said I. + +“'They might be, in your case,' she answered, mournfully; 'for you have +made God your friend, and justice your strong tower. But I--what have I +to hope for in God? He has not been in all my thoughts; and now will He +not mock at my calamity?' + +“'No--no, my unhappy friend!' I answered. 'He never turns from any; it +is we who turn from Him. His tender mercy is over all His works. All +human souls are alike precious in His eyes. If you trust in Him, you +need not fear your bitterest enemies.' + +“'How shall I trust in him?' + +“She bent towards me eagerly. + +“'In the simple work of doing right,' said I. + +“'Doing right?' + +“She did not clearly understand me. + +“Do you think it would be right to let a charge of crime lie, +unrepelled, against you; a great crime, such as is alleged--destroying +your good name, and throwing a shadow of disgrace over your children!' + +“'No,' was her unhesitating reply. + +“'Then it would be wrong for you to suffer a divorce to issue on the +ground of infidelity, without a defence of yourself by every legal means +in your power. Do right, then, in so defending yourself, and trust in +God for the result.' + +“I shudder at the bare thought of a public trial,' she answered. + +“'Don't think of anything but right action, said I. If you would have +the Hosts of Heaven on your side, give them power by doing the right; +and they will surely achieve for you the victory over all your enemies. +Have any steps been taken by Mr. Dewey?' + +“'I fear so.' + +“'How long is it since your husband entertained this purpose?' + +“'I think it has been growing in his mind ever since that unhappy affair +at Saratoga.' + +“As she said this, her thoughts seemed to turn aside upon something +else, and she sat looking down upon the floor in a state of deep +abstraction. At last, taking a long breath, she looked up, and said with +trembling lips and a husky voice, + +“'I have something more to tell you. There is another aspect to this +miserable affair.' + +“And she drew forth a crumpled letter. + +“'I found this, sealed, and directed, lying on the floor of my husband's +room, two days ago. It is in his hand writing; addressed to a lady +in New York, and signed R. D. I will read you its contents.' And she +unfolded the letter, and read: + +“'My dearest Caroline,' it began; and then went on for a few paragraphs, +in a lover-like strain; after which, the divorce from the writer's wife +was referred to as a thing of speedy attainment, there being little fear +of opposition on her part, as he had given her to understand that he had +witnesses ready to prove her criminal conduct; if she dared to resist +his will in the matter. 'A few months of patient waiting, dearest +Caroline,' was the concluding sentence, 'and then for that happy +consummation we have so long desired.' + +“'What do you think of that?' asked poor Delia, looking almost wildly +into my face. + +“'I think,' said I, 'that you hold in your hands the means of safety. +Your husband will not dare to force you into a defensive position, when +he learns that you have this document in your possession. It would tell +strongly against him and his perjured witnesses if produced in court. +Then take heart, my friend. This worst evil that you dreaded will +not come to pass. If a divorce is granted, it will have to be on some +different allegation.' + +“She grasped my hand, and said, 'Oh, do you think so? Do you think so?'” + +“'I am sure of it,' was my confident answer. 'Sure of it. Why the man +would only damage his cause, and disgrace himself, by venturing into a +trial with a witness like this against him.'” + +“'Oh, bless you for such confidently assuring words!' and the poor +creature threw herself forward, and laid her face upon my bosom. For +the first time she wept, and for a season, oh how wildly! You will not +wonder that my tears fell almost as fast as hers. + +“'I turned in my despair to you,' she said, on growing calm, 'you whom +I loved, and almost revered, in the earlier and better days of my life, +and my heart tells me that I have not turned in vain. Into the darkness +that surrounded me like the pall of death, a little light has already +penetrated.'” + +“May it shine unto the perfect day!” I answered fervently. + +“And, dear husband! it will shine,” said Constance, a glow of enthusiasm +lighting up her face, and giving it a new beauty, “even unto the perfect +day! Not the perfect day of earthly bliss--for I think the sun of that +day has gone down never to rise again for her--but the perfect day of +that higher life, which to many comes not, except through the gates of +tribulation.” + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +I was shocked and distressed by the painful revelation which Mrs. Dewey +had made to Constance. A sadder history in real life I had never heard. + +A few days after this memorable visit to the Allen House, a note was +received by my wife, containing this single word, “_Come_,” and signed +_Delia_. + +“Any change in the aspect of affairs?” I inquired of Constance on her +return. + +“Yes. Mrs. Dewey has received notice, in due form, of her husband's +application for a divorce.” + +“What has she done?” + +“Nothing yet. It was to ask my advice as to her best course that she +sent for me.” + +“And what advice did you give her?” + +“I gave none. First, I must consult you.” + +I shook my head and replied, + +“It will not do for me to be mixed up in this affair, Constance.” + +Worldly prudence spoke there. + +My wife laid her hand upon my arm, and looking calmly in my face, said, + +“The right way is always a safe way.” + +“Granted.” + +“It will be right for you to give such advice as your judgment dictates, +and therefore safe. I do not know much about law matters, but it occurs +to me that her first step should be the employment of counsel.” + +“Is her father going to stand wholly aloof?” I inquired. + +“Yes, if she be resolved to defend herself in open court. He will not +sanction a course that involves so much disgrace of herself and family.” + +“Has she shown him the letter you saw?” + +“No.” + +“Why?” + +“I think she is afraid to let it go out of her hands.” + +“She might trust it with her father, surely,” said I. + +“Her father has been very hard with her; and seems to take the worst for +granted. He evidently believes that it is in the power of Dewey to prove +her guilty; and that if she makes any opposition to his application for +a divorce, he will hold her up disgraced before the world.” + +“This letter might open his eyes.” + +“The letter is no defence of her; only a witness against him. It does +not prove her innocence. If it did, then it would turn toward her a +father's averted face. In court its effect will be to throw doubt +upon the sincerity of her husband's motives, and to show that he had a +reason, back of alleged infidelity, for wishing to be divorced from his +wife.” + +“I declare, Constance!” said I, looking at my wife in surprise, “you +have taken upon yourself a new character. I think the case is safe in +your hands, and that Mrs. Dewey wants no more judicious friend. If +you were a man, you might conduct the defence for her to a successful +issue.” + +“I am not a man, and, therefore, I come to a man,” she replied, “and ask +the aid of his judgment. I go by a very straight road to conclusions; +but I want the light of your reason upon these conclusions.” + +“I am not a lawyer as you are aware, Constance--only a doctor.” + +“You are a man with a heart and common sense,” she answered, with just +a little shade of rebuke in her tones, “and as God has put in your way a +wretched human soul that may be lost, unless you stretch forth a saving +hand, is there any room for question as to duty? There is none, my +husband! Squire Floyd believes his daughter guilty; and while he rests +in this conclusion, he will not aid her in anything that points to +exposure and disgrace. She must, therefore, if a vigorous defence is +undertaken, look elsewhere for aid and comfort.” + +I began to see the matter a little clearer. + +“Mr. Wallingford is the best man I know.” + +“Mr. Wallingford!” I thought Constance would have looked me through. + +“Mr. Wallingford!” she repeated, still gazing steadily into my face. +“Are you jesting?” + +“No,” I replied calmly. “In a case that involves so much, she wants a +wise and good defender; and I do not know of any man upon whom she could +so thoroughly rely.” + +Constance dropped her eyes to the floor. + +“It would not do,” she said, after some moments. + +“Why?” + +“Their former relation to each other precludes its possibility.” + +“But, you must remember, Constance, that Delia never knew how deeply he +was once attached to her.” + +“She knows that he offered himself.” + +“And that, in a very short time afterwards, he met her with as much +apparent indifference as if she had never been to him more than a +pleasant acquaintance. Of the struggle through which he passed, in the +work of obliterating her image from his mind, she knows nothing.” + +“But he knows it,” objected Constance. + +“And what does that signify? Will he defend her less skillfully on this +account? Rather will he not feel a stronger interest in the case?” + +“I do not think that she will employ him to defend her,” said Constance. +“I would not, were the case mine.” + +“Womanly pride spoke there, Constance.” + +“Or rather say a manly lack of perception in your case.” + +“Perception of what?” + +“Of the fitness of things,” she answered. + +“That is just what I do see,” I returned. “There is no man in +S----better fitted for conducting this case than Mr. Wallingford.” + +“She will never place it in his hands; you may take a woman's word for +that,” said my wife confidently. “Of all living men he is the last one +to whom she could talk of the humiliating particulars involved in a case +like this.” + +“Suppose you suggest his name to her. Twelve years of such a life as she +has led may have almost obliterated the memory of that passage in her +life.” + +“Don't believe it. A woman never forgets a passage like that; +particularly when the events of every passing day but serve to remind +her of the error she once committed.” + +“I don't know what else to advise,” said I. “She ought to have a good +and discreet man to represent her, or all may be lost.” + +“Would you have any objection to confer with Mr. Wallingford on the +subject in a private, confidential way?” + +“None in the world,” I replied. + +“Will you see him at once?” The interest of Constance was too strongly +excited to brook delay. + +“Yes, immediately.” + +And putting on my overcoat I went to the office of Mr. Wallingford. I +found him alone, and at once laid the whole case before him--relating, +with particularity, all that had occurred between my wife and Mrs. +Dewey. He listened with deep and pitying attention; and when I was +through, expressed his opinion of Dewey in very strong language. + +“And now what is to be done?” I asked, going at once to the vital +question. + +“Your wife is right,” he answered. “I can hardly become her advocate. It +would involve humiliation on her part too deep to be borne. But my aid +she shall have to the fullest extent; and it will be strange if I do not +thwart his wicked scheme.” + +“How will you aid her?” + +“Through her right attorney, if my advice as to the choice be followed. +You know James Orton?” + +“Yes.” + +“He is a young man to be relied upon. Let Mrs. Dewey put the case in his +hands. If she does so, it will be, virtually, in mine.” + +“Enough, Mr. Wallingford,” said I. “It looks more hopeful for our poor +unhappy friend, against whom even her own flesh and blood have turned.” + +When I gave Constance the result of my interview with Mr. Wallingford, +she was quite elated at the prospect of securing his most valuable aid +for Mrs. Dewey. Orton was young, and had been practising at the bar for +only a couple of years. Up to this time he had not appeared in any case +of leading importance; and had, therefore, no established reputation. +Our fear was that Mrs. Dewey might not be willing to place her case in +such inexperienced hands. In order to have the matter settled with as +little delay as possible, Constance paid an early visit to the Allen +House, and suggested Mr. Orton as counsel. Mrs. Dewey had not even heard +his name; but, after being assured that I had the fullest confidence in +him, and particularly advised his employment, she consented to accept of +his services. + +Their first interview was arranged to take place at my house, and in +the presence of my wife, when the notice Mrs. Dewey had received on the +institution of proceedings, was placed in the young lawyer's hands, and +some conversation had as to the basis and tenor of an answer. A second +interview took place on the day following, at which Mrs. Dewey gave a +full statement of the affair at Saratoga, and asserted her innocence in +the most solemn and impressive manner. The letter from her husband to +the lady in New York, was produced, and at the request of Mr. Orton, +given into his possession. + +The answer to Mr. Dewey's application for a divorce was drawn up by Mr. +Wallingford, who entered with great earnestness into the matter. It +was filed in court within a week after notice of the application +was received. This was altogether unexpected by the husband, who, on +becoming aware of the fact, lost all decent control of himself, and +ordered his wretched wife to leave his house. This, however, she refused +to do. Then she had her father's angry opposition to brave. But she +remained firm. + +“He will cover you with infamy, if you dare to persevere in this mad +opposition,” he said. And she answered-- + +“The infamy may recoil upon his own head. I am innocent--I will not be +such a traitor to virtue as to let silence declare me guilty.” + +There was a pause, now, for a few weeks. The unhappy state of affairs at +the Allen House made it hardly proper for my wife to continue her visits +there, and Mrs. Dewey did not venture to call upon her. The trial of the +case would not come up for some two or three months, and both parties +were waiting, in stern resolution, for the approaching contest. + +One day I received a message from Mrs. Dewey, desiring me to call +and see two of her children who were sick. On visiting them--the two +youngest--I found them seriously ill, with symptoms so like scarletina, +that I had little question in my mind as to the character of the disease +from which they were suffering. My second visit confirmed these fears. + +“It is scarlet fever?” said Mrs. Dewey, looking at me calmly, as I moved +from the bed-side after a careful examination of the two little ones. + +I merely answered-- + +“Yes.” + +There was no change in her countenance. + +“They are both very ill.” + +She spoke with a slow deliberateness, that was unusual to her. + +“They are sick children,” said I. + +“Sick, it may be, unto death.” + +There was no emotion in her voice. + +I looked at her without replying. + +“I can see them die, Doctor, if that must be.” + +Oh, that icy coldness of manner, how it chilled me! + +“No hand but mine shall tend them now, Doctor. They have been long +enough in the care of others--neglected--almost forgotten--by their +unworthy mother. But in this painful extremity I will be near them. I +come back to the post of duty, even at this late hour, and all that is +left for me, that will I do.” + +I was deeply touched by her words and manner. + +The latter softened a little as she uttered the closing sentence. + +“You look at the darkest side,” I answered. “With God are the issues of +life. He calls us, our children, or our friends, in His own good time. +We cannot tell how any sickness will terminate; and hope for the best is +always our truest state.” + +“I hope for the best,” she replied; but with something equivocal in her +voice. + +“The best is life,” I said, scarcely reflecting upon my words. + +“Not always,” she returned, still speaking calmly. “Death is often the +highest blessing that God can give. It will be so in the present case.” + +“Madam!” + +My tone of surprise did not move her. + +“It is simply true, Doctor,” she made answer. “As things are now, and +as they promise to be in the future, the safest place for these helpless +innocents is in Heaven; and I feel that their best Friend is about to +remove them there through the door of sickness.” + +I could not bear to hear her talk in this way. It sent cold chills +through me. So I changed the subject. + +On the next day, all the symptoms were unfavorable. Mrs. Dewey was calm +as when I last saw her; but it was plain from her appearance, that she +had taken little if any rest. Her manner towards the sick babes was full +of tenderness; but there was no betrayal of weakness or distress in +view of a fatal termination. She made no anxious inquiries, such as are +pressed on physicians in cases of dangerous illness; but received my +directions, and promised to give them a careful observance, with a +self-possession that showed not a sign of wavering strength. + +I was touched by all this. How intense must have been the suffering that +could so benumb the heart!--that could prepare a mother to sit by +the couch of her sick babes, and be willing to see them die! I have +witnessed many sad scenes in professional experience; but none so sad as +this. + +Steadily did the destroyer keep on with his work. There were none of +those flattering changes that sometimes cheat us into hopes of recovery, +but a regular daily accumulation of the most unfavorable symptoms. At +the end of a week, I gave up all hope of saving the children, and made +no more vain attempts to control a disease that had gone on from tie +beginning, steadily breaking away the foundations of life. To diminish +the suffering of my little patients, and make their passage from earth +to Heaven as easy as possible, was now my only care. + +On the mother's part, there was no sign of wavering. Patiently, +tenderly, faithfully did she minister to her little ones, night and day. +No lassitude or weariness appeared, though her face, which grew +paler and thinner every day, told the story of exhausting nature. She +continued in the same state of mind I have described; never for an +instant, as far as I could see, receding from a full consent to their +removal. + +One morning, in making my usually early call at the Allen House, I saw, +what I was not unprepared to see, a dark death sign on the door. + +“All over?” I said to the servant who admitted me. + +“Yes, sir, all is over,” she replied. + +“Both gone?” + +“Yes, sir, both.” + +Tears were in her eyes. + +“When did they die?” + +“About midnight.” + +“At the same time?” + +“Yes, sir. Dear little souls! They went together.” + +“I will go up to see them,” said I. + +And the girl showed me to the room in which they were laid. The door was +closed. I opened it, and stepped in softly. The room was darkened; but +light came in through a small opening in the curtains at the top of the +window, and fell in a narrow circle around the spot where the bodies, +already in their snowy grave clothes, were laid. In a chair beside +them sat the mother. She was alone with her dead. I felt that I was an +intruder upon a sorrow too deep for tears or words; but it was too late +to recede. So I moved forward and stood by the bedside, looking down +upon the two white little faces, from which had passed every line of +suffering. + +Mrs. Dewey neither stirred nor spoke, nor in any way gave token that she +was aware of my presence in the room. I stood for over a minute looking +upon the sweet images before me--for in them, death had put on forms of +beauty--and still there was no movement on the part of Mrs. Dewey. Then, +feeling that she was with One who could speak to her heart by an inner +way, better than I could speak through the natural ear, I quietly +receded and left the apartment. As my eyes rested on her a moment, in +closing the door, I saw that her form remained as still as a statue. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +An hour later, when Constance went to see Mrs. Dewey, she found her in +a state of unconsciousness, nature having at last given way. Not long +after I left the house, her mother, on entering the room where the +children were laid out, found her insensible, lying across the bed, with +her dead babes clasped in her arms. + +Mrs. Floyd sent word for me to come and see her daughter, as she +continued in a lethargic state. I found her like one in a deep sleep, +only her breathing was light, and her pulse very feeble, but regular. +She was out of the reach of my skill, and in the hands of the Great +Physician. I could only trust the cure to Him. No medicine for the body +would be of any avail here. I called again in the afternoon; but found +no change. How little was there in the pale, pinched face that lay among +the white pillows, to remind me of the handsome, dashing Mrs. Dewey, of +a year gone by! + +“What do you think of her, Doctor?” + +Mrs. Floyd put the question. The tone had in it something that made me +look narrowly into the speaker's face. My ears had not deceived me. + +There was the wish in her heart that Delia might die! + +I was not surprised at this. And yet the revelation of such a state of +feeling, in so good and true a woman, as I had reason to know Mrs. Floyd +to be, made my heart bound with a throb of pain. + +Alas! alas! Into what unnatural conditions may not the mind fall, +through suffering that shuts out human hope! + +“Nature,” said I, in answer to the question of Mrs. Floyd, “may be only +gathering up her powers after a long period of exhaustion. The strife +through which your daughter has passed--calmly passed to all external +seeming--has not been without a wasting of internal life. How she kept +on so evenly to the end, passes my comprehension. There is not one woman +in a thousand who could have so borne herself through to the final act. +It is meet that she should rest now.” + +“If she were sleeping with her babes, happy would it be for her!” + +Tears fell over the face of Mrs. Floyd. + +“God knows what is best,” I remarked. + +“She has nothing to live for in this world.” A sob broke from its +repression, and heaved the mother's bosom. “O Doctor, if I saw the death +dews on her brow, I would not weep!” + +“Leave her, my dear friend,” said I, “in the hands of Him who sees +deeper into the heart than it is possible for our eyes to penetrate. Her +feet have left the soft, flowery ways they trod for a time, and turned +into rough paths, where every footfall is upon sharp stones; but it +may be that a blessed land is smiling beyond, he has been astray in the +world, and God may only be leading her homeward by the way of sorrow.” + +Mrs. Floyd wept freely as I talked. + +“His will be done,” she said, sobbing. + +“Your daughter,” said I, taking the occasion to bear my testimony on the +favorable side, “has been wronged without question. She was doubtless +imprudent, but not sinful; and the present attempt to disgrace her I +regard as a cruel wrong. It will recoil, I trust, in a way not dreamed +of.” + +“O Doctor, let me thank you for such words.” + +And Mrs. Floyd caught my arm with an eager movement. + +“I speak soberly, madam, and from observation and reflection. And I +trust to see Delia live and triumph over her enemies.” + +“Won't you talk with the Squire, Doctor?” She still grasped my arm. “He +will not hear a word from me in favor of Delia. Mr. Dewey has completely +blinded him.” + +“Wait patiently, Mrs. Floyd,” said I, in a tone of encouragement. “Your +daughter is not without friends. There are those upon her side, who +have the will and the power to defend her; and they will defend her, I +believe successfully.” + +A sigh fluttered through the room, causing us both to turn quickly +towards the bed on which Mrs. Dewey was lying. Her lips were moving +slightly; but no change appeared on her death-like face. I laid my +fingers upon her wrist, and searched for her pulse. It was very low and +thread-like; but with more vitality than on the occasion of my first +visit to her in the morning. + +“The signs are favorable.” + +Mrs. Floyd did not respond. She was looking at her daughter with an +expression of unutterable grief upon her countenance. + +I did not attempt to give medicine, but left unerring nature to do her +own work. + +Mrs. Dewey did not again look upon the faces of her dead children. They +were buried ere her mind awoke to any knowledge of passing events. I +was at the funeral, and closely observed her husband. He appeared very +sober, and shed some tears at the grave, when the little coffins were +lowered together into the earth. + +It was a week before Mrs. Dewey was clearly conscious of external +things. I visited her every day, watching, with deep interest, her slow +convalescence. It was plain, as her mind began to recover its faculties, +that the memory of a sad event had faded; and I was anxious for the +effect, when this painful remembrance was restored. + +One day I found her sitting up in her room. She smiled feebly as I came +in, and said: + +“Doctor, am I never going to get well? It seems like an age since I +became sick.” + +“You are getting on finely,” I answered, in a cheerful way, sitting down +by her and taking her hand, which was wasted and shadowy. + +“I don't know about that, Doctor,” she said. + +“What makes me so weak? I've no more strength than a babe. And that +reminds me of a frightful dream I had.” And her countenance changed. + +“A dream?” I queried. + +“Yes; I thought Aggy and Lu were both dead! I saw them laid out, cold +and white as statues, just as plainly as I see you now.” + +She stopped suddenly, an expression of fear going over her face--then +looked at me in a strange, questioning way. + +“Doctor”--she leaned towards me, with lips apart, and eyes full of a +sudden, wild alarm. I laid my hand upon her, and said: + +“You have been very ill for some time, Mrs. Dewey, and are too weak to +bear excitement. Don't let mere dreams disturb you.” + +“Dreams?” Her eyes fell from mine. “Dreams?” she repeated. “I feel very +weak, Doctor,” was added, after a few moments. “Won't you assist me to +lie down?” + +And she made a movement to rise. I took her arm and supported her to the +bed, where she quietly composed herself, and turned her face away, so as +almost to hide it from my view. At this moment Mrs. Floyd came in, and I +withdrew, leaving them together. + +Memory had been restored. The accompanying shock was severe, but not +heavy enough seriously to retard her recovery, which went on slowly. She +still remained at the Allen House, rarely meeting her husband, who now +spent a large part of his time in New York. + +The period fixed for a trial of the case between them was fast +approaching. He continued resolute, and she did not waver from her +purpose to defend her good name. The deep interest I took in the case, +led me to see Mr. Wallingford often, and make inquiry as to the evidence +which could be produced in Mrs. Dewey's favor, and the probable chances +of an honorable result. We both favored a settlement of the difficulty +without a trial and its consequent exposure, if that were possible. +But how to prevent this was the difficult question. Finally it was +determined to make a copy of the letter found by Mrs. Dewey, and enclose +it to her husband, giving him warning at the same time that the original +would be produced at the trial. + +Nothing was heard in response to this movement, until within a week +of the day on which the case was expected to come up, when Mr. Dewey's +lawyer called on Mr. Orton to know if it was still his intention to meet +them in open court and resist their application for a divorce. On being +assured that such was their purposes he expressed some regret at the +consequent damage to the lady's reputation, as they had evidence against +her of the most conclusive character. Finally he wished to know whether, +in case a new ground were taken--one not touching the lady's good +name--any opposition would be made. Mr. Orton said that he would consult +his client, and answer the query with as little delay as practicable. + +Mrs. Dewey expressed a willingness to remain passive, provided no +allegations were made in the new bill that even remotely cast a shadow +upon her virtue. + +But Mr. Wallingford, on taking the matter into further consideration, +advised a different course altogether--no less than an application +from the other side, on the ground of neglect, ill-treatment, and +constructive conjugal infidelity, based on the important letter already +referred to. Mrs. Dewey caught eagerly at this suggestion, as soon as it +was presented to her. If a divorce were thus obtained, her vindication +would be complete. + +The ranks of the enemy were thrown into confusion by this diversion. Mr. +Dewey was violent, and threatened most terrible consequences. But when +the time set for the case to come up arrived, he failed to appear. + +It was from the other side that the next movement came. A divorce was +applied for on the part of Mrs. Dewey, in a bill carefully drawn up +by Mr. Wallingford. It asked not only for a legal separation from +her husband, but for alimony, and the possession of the two remaining +children. An answer was filed; but it was of so feeble a character as to +amount to scarcely anything in the way of opposition. The chief argument +was directed against the claim for alimony. The result was as we had +anticipated. In the following spring a divorce was granted, and Mrs. +Dewey, with her two children, left the Allen House and returned to her +father's. The maintenance allowed by the court, was one thousand dollars +a year for herself, and five hundred a year for each of the children +during their minority. + +And so closed this exciting drama, begun in weakness, and ending in +hopeless disaster. Oh, a few years! How many broken hearts do they close +over? How many wrecks of goodly lives do they see scattered among the +breakers! + +The interposition of Mr. Wallingford, in this case, was so managed as to +keep him entirely out of sight, and Mrs. Dewey was never made aware of +the fact that he had rendered her a great service. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +We did not see a great deal of Mr. Dewey in S----for some months after +this. I heard it casually remarked that he was traveling in the South +and West, for a part of the time, on business. The large interests of +his firm involved in the two mills, however, made his presence necessary +among us, and late in the fall he came back, and remained through the +winter residing at the Allen House. + +In the spring a rumor got afloat that Mr. Dewey was soon to be married. +A lady in New York was mentioned; the same, it was said, to whom the +letter found by Mrs. Dewey was addressed. A few signs of renovation at +the Allen House gave confirmation of this rumor, which at length assumed +a more positive shape. + +The intimacy between Mrs. Wallingford and Constance, had grown into a +close interior friendship, and scarcely a week passed that an evening +was not spent by them together, sometimes at our house, and sometimes +at Ivy Cottage. Mr. Wallingford had developed into a man after my own +heart; and so I shared, when professional engagements allowed, in the +enjoyment of these pleasant seasons. + +One evening Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford came round to spend an hour with +us. I was happily at leisure. Conversation naturally falls into the +current of passing events, and on this occasion, the approaching +marriage of Mr. Dewey came naturally into the field of topics. This +led to a review of the many strange circumstances connected with Mrs. +Wallingford's presence in S----, and naturally, to an inquiry from my +wife as to the present position of the property left by Captain Allen. + +“What about this young Garcia?” said Constance, addressing Mr. +Wallingford. “I haven't heard of him for some time.” + +“He is at school yet, I believe,” replied Mr. Wallingford, not showing +much interest in the matter. + +“He must be nearly of age,” said I. + +“About twenty, if his years were correctly given.” + +“He will come into the possession of a handsome property,” I remarked. + +“Yes, if it can be found by the time he is ready to receive it.” + +“Can be found! I don't comprehend you, Mr. Wallingford? Do you mean to +question the integrity of the men who are executors to the estate?” + +“No. But, they have embarked in the same vessel with an unscrupulous +villain--so I regard Ralph Dewey--and have, as far as I can see, given +the rudder into his hands. If he do not wreck them on some dangerous +coast, or sunken rock, it will be more from good fortune than anything +else.” + +“He is partner in a very wealthy firm,” said I. + +“The standing of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., is, you know, undoubted. He +can't wreck out friends Bigelow and Floyd, without ruining them also.” + +“I was in New York a few months ago, on business,” Mr. Wallingford +replied, “and it so happened, that I heard the firm of which Dewey is a +partner spoken of. Among other remarks, was this: 'They are thought to +be very much extended.'” + +“What is the meaning of that?” asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +“It is understood in business circles,” replied her husband, “to mean, +that a house is doing too much business for the amount of capital +employed, and that it has issued, in consequence, a large amount of +paper. Any very heavy losses to a firm in this condition might prove +disastrous.” + +“Too much extended?” said I, thoughtfully, some new impressions forming +themselves in my mind. + +“Yes, that was the opinion held by the individual I refer to; and he was +not one to speak carelessly on so grave a matter.” + +“If the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. should go down,” I remarked, +“there will be sad work in S----.” + +“There will, without any doubt,” replied Mr. Wallingford. + +“The executors to the Allen estate might find themselves in a most +unfortunate position,” said I. + +“Such a position as I would not be in, for all the world. Any thing but +dishonor!” + +“How dishonor?” asked Constance. + +“The whole estate would be, I fear, involved.” + +“They gave security,” said I. + +“But the sureties are not worth a tenth part of the sum for which they +stand responsible. The court acted with a singular want of discretion in +appointing them.” + +“You don't mean to have us infer that Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd +have used the funds of this estate for their own purposes, to any great +extent?” + +“I would not care to say this out of doors, Doctor, but that is just my +opinion of the matter as it now stands. Dewey is guardian to the heir, +and would favor, rather than oppose, such a use of the funds.” + +“It might be just so much in favor of the heir,” remarked Mrs. +Wallingford, “if two-thirds of the property had disappeared by the time +he reached his majority; for, from all that I have heard of him, he is +not likely to become a man fitted to use large wealth either to his own +or any body else's advantage. He was low born and low bred, in the +worst sense of the words; and I fear that no education will change his +original quality, or greatly modify his early bias. So while the wasting +of his substance is a great wrong in the abstract, it may be a real +blessing to him. Events in this life work out strangely to our human +eyes, yet there is a Providence in them that ever educes good from +evil.” + +“If we could always believe that,” said I, “how tranquilly might we pass +through life! How clearly would our eyes see through the darkest clouds, +and rest upon the silver lining!” + +“Is it not so? Does not God's providence follow us in the smallest +things of our lives? Do we take a step that falls outside of his +cognizance? We have only to look back, to be assured of this. We may +walk on tranquilly, Doctor, for, as sure as we live, no evil can +befall us that does not have its origin within our own spirits. All the +machinations of our most bitter enemies will come to naught, if we keep +our hearts free from guile. They may rob us of our earthly possessions; +but even this God will turn to our greater gain.” + +Mrs. Wallingford spoke with a charming enthusiasm. + +“With such a confidence,” said my wife, “one is richer than if he had +the wealth of an Astor.” + +“And with this great advantage,” replied Mrs. Wallingford, “that he may +enjoy the whole of his possessions. Moth and rust never corrupt them; +and no man can take them away.” + +“I have a new book from which I want to read you a sentiment,” said +Constance, rising, and moving towards the secretary and book-case, which +stood in the room. + +Mrs. Wallingford rose and went with her. + +“It is so beautifully accordant with many things I have heard you say,” + added my wife, as she took down the volume, and commenced turning over +its pages. + +After reading a few sentences, and commenting upon them, some remark +directed the attention of Mrs. Wallingford to the antiquated secretary, +which was the one I had purchased when the furniture of the Allen house +was sold. + +“I have reason to remember this old secretary,” she said. “It was here +that the will was found which cut off our interest in the estate of my +uncle.” + +As she spoke in a pleasant way, she pulled out a drawer--the very one +which had suggested concealment, when I first got possession of the +piece of furniture--and said-- + +“This is where the will lay concealed.” + +And she pressed against the side firmly, when a portion of it yielded, +and there sprung up another drawer, or receptacle, placed in vertically. + +We were all very much interested in this curious arrangement. The drawer +could not be pulled out much beyond half its depth; the secret portion +lying within this limit. + +As I stood looking at the drawer, a sudden thought flashed through my +mind, and I pressed my hand against the other side. It began to yield! +I pressed harder, and up sprung a corresponding secret receptacle, from +which a paper fell out. A hard substance rattled on the solid wood. It +was a gold locket, tied with a piece of blue ribbon; and attached, with +a seal, to the folded paper. + +It was some moments before a hand reached forth to lift the document. +It was at length taken up by Mr. Wallingford. As he did so, the locket +swung free, and we saw that it contained a braid of dark hair. Unfolding +the paper, and stepping back to the light, he read, in a low, firm +voice, as follows: + +“I, John Allen, being of sound mind, do make this as my last will and +testament, revoking, at the same time, all other wills. I give and +bequeath all my property, real and personal, to my sister Flora, if +living; or, if dead, to her legal heirs--reserving only, for my wife, +Theresa Garcia, in case she survive me, a legacy of five hundred dollars +a year, to be continued during her natural life. And I name as +my executors, to carry out the provisions of this will, Doctor +Edward-----and James Wilkinson, of the town of S----, State of +Massachusetts.” + +Then followed the date, which was recent, compared with that of the +other wills, and the signatures of the testator and witnesses, all in +due form. The witnesses were men in our town, and well known to us all. + +At the reading of her mother's name, Mrs. Wallingford sat down quickly, +and, covering her face, leaned over upon the centre table. I saw that +she was endeavoring to control a strong agitation. + +I was the first to speak. + +“The ways of Providence are past finding out,” said I. “Let me +congratulate you on this good fortune.” + +As I spoke, Mrs. Wallingford rose from the table, and, going to her +husband, placed her hands upon his arms, and looking up into his face, +fondly and tearfully, said:-- + +“Dear Henry! For your sake, my heart is glad to-night.” + +He laid the will down, as if it were a thing of little value, and +kissing her, said:-- + +“This cannot add to our happiness, Blanche, and may bring care and +trouble.” + +“Not more trouble than blessing,” she replied, “if rightfully used.” + +The locket attached to the will excited our curious interest. It was, we +felt sure, the same that Captain Allen's mother had sent to him by the +hands of Jacob Perkins. Doubtless, some memory of his mother, stirred by +the sight of this locket, had caused him to revoke his former will, and +execute this one in favor of his sister. There was no room to question, +for a moment, its genuineness. It had all legal formality, and the men +who witnessed the signature were living and well known to us all. I was +named as one of the executors. So there was some perplexing business +before me; for, in taking things as they were, it was not probable that +the executors under the former will would be able, promptly, to give a +satisfactory account of their trust, or to hand over the property in a +shape acceptable to the right heirs. + +But, of this, more anon. Our good friends went home early after this +singular discovery, showing more bewilderment than elation of manner. I +think that Constance and I were gladder in heart than they. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +The first thing done was to place the will on record; the next to give +proper legal notice of its existence to the executors under the previous +will, Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd. Mr. Dewey, on the announcement +of this discovery, unhesitatingly declared the paper a forgery; but the +witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen were living, and ready to +attest its genuineness. They remembered, very distinctly, the time when +their names were appended to the document. It was only a year before the +Captain's death. They were walking past the Allen House, when the old +man called them in, and asked them to witness the signing of a paper. Of +its contents they had no knowledge, as he did not make any communication +on the subject. But he signed it in their presence, and their signatures +showed this will to be the paper then executed. + +Notwithstanding this, it came to our ears, that Mr. Dewey persisted in +alleging fraud, forgery, and the complicity of these witnesses. And +from the manner of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, in the first brief +interview I had with them, it was plain that they were far from being +satisfied that all was right. Their manner was that of men utterly +confounded. If the property in question had been held by them as really +their own, they could hardly have exhibited more feeling. + +After the will was entered at the proper office, and thus made public, +the following paragraph appeared in our “Weekly Star”-- + +“_Remarkable Discovery of a Will._--A singular circumstance happened in +our town last week, no less than the discovery of a new and more recent +will of the late Captain Allen, by which all of his large property is +devised to his sister and her heirs. It was found in a secret drawer, +contained in an antiquated French Secretary, which Dr.----bought when +the furniture of the Allen House was sold, previous to a renovation +of the old mansion for the residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. The late Mrs. +Montgomery, who resided for a time at the Allen House, was sister to +Captain Allen, and her daughter is now the wife of our townsman, Henry +Wallingford, Esq. We congratulate the parties on the good fortune which +has come to their door.” + +The marriage of Mr. Dewey took place within a month after the discovery +of this will, and he brought his new wife to S----, installing her as +mistress of the Allen House. She was a showy woman, past thirty, with +a pair of brilliant black eyes, and a dark, rich complexion. Her long, +thin nose, and delicate, but proudly arching lips, showed her to possess +will and determination. It was the rumor in S----, that she brought her +husband a considerable fortune. But she was not well received among us. +The families of Judge Bigelow, and Joshua Kling, Cashier of the Clinton +Bank, called immediately. Something later called the wives of two +Directors in the Bank, and afterwards the wives of one or two citizens +who had embarked some capital in the cotton mills. Beyond this, no +advances were made towards an acquaintance with the new Mrs. Dewey. + +It shocked my sensibilities to see this woman dashing about through +S----in the elegant equipage once the pride of the now humbled daughter +of Squire Floyd, who, since the divorce granted on her application, had +lived in strict retirement in her father's house. The only time when she +was seen abroad, was on the Sabbath, at church, with her two children. +The oldest, a daughter, in her thirteenth year; and the youngest, a boy, +ten years of age. The terrible ordeal passed through by this unhappy +woman, had told upon her severely. In a year, she seemed to have lived +ten. All the fine roundness of her face and person had given way, and +she presented the appearance of one who had come out of a long and +exhausting illness. + +Constance made it a point of duty to visit her often. She found her +states of mind exceedingly variable. Sometimes she was in patient, +tranquil states, and sometimes she manifested great bitterness of +spirit, complaining of man's cruel selfishness, and God's injustice. +The marriage of Mr. Dewey disturbed her considerably. One day, not long +after this event, Constance called to see her. She was in one of her +darker moods; and all the comforting suggestions which my good wife +could make, seemed to go for nothing. They were sitting near a window, +overlooking the street, when Delia suddenly turned pale, and caught her +breath. A carriage went sweeping by at the moment, drawn by two spirited +horses. + +“Is that the woman?” she exclaimed, as soon as she recovered herself. + +“That is the woman,” Constance replied. + +Delia clutched her hands so tightly that her arms quivered, and grew +rigid; while her pale face darkened with an expression so like revenge, +that Constance felt a shudder of fear in her heart. + +“If my prayers for her are answered,” said the excited woman, speaking +through her closing teeth, “she will find that day the darkest in the +calendar of her life, when she stepped between me and my husband. I have +only curses for her in my heart. Only curses!” + +Constance, startled, and almost frightened by this wild burst of +feeling, endeavored to soothe her; but the storm was too fierce to own +the power of her gentle persuasions, and raged on for its brief season. + +“I thought her mind had given way,” said my wife, on relating what she +had seen and heard. “It was fearful to look upon a human creature so +terribly moved.” + +“The trial to her feelings must have been very.... [Gap in original] + +“But I thought the severe discipline through which she had passed, had +chastened and subdued her,” answered Constance. “I saw, or believed that +I saw, the beginnings of a new and true life in her soul. But over all +this, passion has swept with its besom of destruction.” + +“The better states,” I replied, “may not have been destroyed in this +evil whirlwind. Such states, when once formed, usually retire and hide +themselves until the storm has spent its fury.” + +“I pray that it may be so in this case,” said Constance. “But from what +I saw to-day, my fears are on the other side.” + +In the mean time we were taking such steps as the responsibility of our +position required, towards getting possession of the property, +which, under the will of Captain Allen, must come into our hands. My +co-executor, Mr. James Wilkinson, a merchant of S----, was for adopting +the most summary proceedings. He was annoyed at the questions, doubts, +and delays which Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd permitted to intervene; +and more especially by the intermeddling of Dewey, towards whom, from +some cause, he entertained hostile feeling. + +As a matter of course, we were guided in all our movements by Mr. +Wallingford. At the earliest term of court, we brought forward the claim +of Mrs. Wallingford, under the last will and testament of her uncle. +A feeble effort was made to throw doubt upon the genuineness of the +document; but the oath of the witnesses to the signature of Captain +Allen settled the question beyond the reach of cavil, and the executors +under the first will were ordered to transfer, by a certain date, all +property belonging to the estate into our hands. + +I saw plainly enough, from the beginning, that the idea of giving an +account of their stewardship was not an agreeable one to either of the +executors under the old will. The direction which the property must take +was one that would not admit of any holding back or covering up on their +part. They would be required to exhibit clean hands. + +The property clearly shown as having passed into their possession, was +the old mansion and valuable grounds, which had been sold, under an +order of the court, at a heavy sacrifice--bringing only thirty-five +thousand dollars, instead of sixty thousand, its real value--and the +proceeds re-invested. Then there was other town property worth twenty +thousand dollars, and stocks valued at as much more: making seventy-five +thousand dollars in all as the principal. Interest added, would swell +the sum for which they must give account to over one hundred thousand +dollars. + +It was found, on looking into the business, that the whole of this +immense sum was invested in the cotton mills. The search made into the +legal condition of these mill properties was not satisfactory. There +were several mortgages against them, one of which, for twenty-five +thousand dollars, was held by the Clinton Bank as collateral security +for loans. + +After various delays and failures on the part of the old executors to +meet us in a satisfactory manner, we all assembled, by appointment, in +the office of Judge Bigelow. Mr. Dewey I was surprised to find present. +But it was plain that he was there either by the consent or request +of the Judge and Squire. The court had given a certain time for the +executors under the first will to make up their accounts, and hand over +the property in trust. That time had expired. + +There was manifest embarrassment on the part of Judge Bigelow and his +associate; while Dewey looked stern and dogged. We soon got into +the centre of the business, and found it pretty earnest work. It was +admitted by the executors that the greater portion of the estate was in +the cotton mills. How to get it out was the question. + +“I had always understood,” said Mr. Wallingford, “that the mills were +chiefly owned in New York.” + +“The New York interest is large,” replied Squire Floyd, in a husky +voice. + +“And can be increased, no doubt, to almost any extent, in order to +enable you to withdraw the trust investments,” resumed Mr. Wallingford. + +“Why cannot you let it remain where it is for the present? The +investment is safe and the interest sure,” said Judge Bigelow. + +“There isn't safer security in the state,” spoke up Mr. Dewey, with +animation. + +“It isn't the kind of security we wish to hold,” said Mr. Wilkinson +firmly. “We have given heavy bonds, and prefer to get the property in a +different shape.” + +Here followed a chilling silence, which was broken by Mr. Wallingford. + +“There is one way in which this can be arranged,” said he. + +All eyes were turned upon him. + +“If it is not convenient to transfer to new parties interests of such +magnitude, we will take, at a fair valuation, the Allen House and +grounds appertaining thereto, including the mill site.” + +Mr. Dewey was on his feet in a moment, and said-- + +“Never!” with considerable excitement of manner. + +Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd looked at each other in a bewildered +manner, and then at Mr. Dewey, who was walking the floor with many signs +of disturbance. + +“This is the family property,” continued Mr. Wallingford, coolly--“and +ought never to have been sold. It is but fair that it should come back.” + +“It can't go back,” spoke up Mr. Dewey. “The present owners will not let +it pass out of their hands.” + +“If that is the case,” said Mr. Wallingford, “we shall have to look in +another direction. It occurred to me that this might suit all parties, +and lead to an easy arrangement. But if that cannot be--if the present +owners, to use Mr. Dewey's words, will not let it go back--then my +suggestion falls to the ground, and we must look to the investments as +they stand. We do not press the matter.” + +I observed Mr. Dewey closely; the amount of feeling he displayed having +drawn my attention upon him. Once or twice I saw him dart malignant +glances towards Mr. Wallingford. And so, by degrees, I began to have +a glimpse of what was passing in his mind. To go out from that elegant +home, and let Wallingford succeed him as the owner, was something to +which his proud heart could not submit--Wallingford, the once despised +and contemned student of his uncle! That was too bitter a humiliation. + +As nothing could then be decided, another meeting, to take place in +three or four days, was agreed upon, and we separated. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +As my profession kept me going about all the while, I had opportunities +for observing the movements of other people. The day following the +meeting referred to in the last chapter, I saw Dewey, the Judge, and +the Squire together several times, and always in earnest talk. As I came +home, towards evening, I saw them all entering Mr. Dewey's residence. It +was plain that there was trouble in the camp. + +On the next day, Mr. Dewey left town. I noticed him going into a car at +the depot. When the time came for our meeting, a postponement was asked +for. I felt like demurring, but Mr. Wallingford readily consented. + +“Give them a little more time,” said he, as we walked away from Judge +Bigelow's office. “It will come out as we desired. The easiest way for +them to arrange with us, is to let us have the Allen House property, +which is owned by the firm of which Dewey is a member; and it is with a +view to this, I have no doubt, that he is now in New York.” + +So we waited a few days longer. The return of Mr. Dewey took place in +the course of a week, when I received a note from Judge Bigelow, asking +a private interview. I found him and his nephew alone. They received me +in a pleasant, affable way; and the Judge said that he wished to have +a little talk with me before another formal meeting of the executors. +I answered that it would give me pleasure to confer with him; though I +could neither accept nor propose any thing, standing alone. + +“It is not with a view to that, Doctor,” replied the Judge, his +countenance putting on a shade of gravity that nearly obliterated the +smiles with which he at first received me. “But I thought it might +help to a better issue, if two of the parties representing the opposite +interests in this case were to have a little informal conversation.” + +“I am ready to hear any thing you have to say, Judge, and shall be very +happy if I can aid, in any thing, the satisfactory adjustment of these +matters.” My answer, I thought, appeared to give him confidence, and he +said-- + +“Without doubt you can aid, Doctor. The position in which Squire Floyd +and myself find ourselves placed, is one of some embarrassment. In +making investments of the property which came into our hands, we had +reference, of course, to its security and productiveness; at the same +time looking to a period, still some years in advance, when our trust +would cease, and the property pass in due course to the heir-at-law. To +realize on these investments now, would be to damage the interests of +others; and I cannot feel that it would be right for you to urge this. +The discovery of a new will, bearing a later date, is a thing wholly +unexpected. We had no warning to prepare for the summary action growing +out of its appearance, and, as I have just intimated, cannot proceed +without injury to others.” + +“I do not believe,” said Mr. Dewey, “that the court, if the case was +fairly stated, would require this speedy settlement of the trust. And it +is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a new award as +to time. A year longer should be conceded to the executors under the old +will.” + +“That would be equitable,” said the Judge. + +“I am afraid,” I made answer to this, “that Mr. Wallingford will not +consent to any postponement.” + +“He won't? The hound!” I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey's +tone of voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance an +expression of malignant hatred. + +“Ralph!” said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice. + +“I can't repress my indignation,” answered the nephew. “What demons from +the nether hell have conspired to give _him_ power over us? If it had +been any other man in the world I could have borne it patiently.” + +“Ralph! Ralph!” interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice. + +“It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling,” was replied. “To +see you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything.” + +“Pardon me, Mr. Dewey,” said I, “but I cannot hear such language used +towards a gentleman of irreproachable character. Mr. Wallingford is not +entitled to the epithet you give; and I warn you, not to repeat that, or +anything like it, in my presence.” + +“You warn me!” + +A gleam shot towards me from his evil eyes. + +“Ralph! silence!” The Judge spoke sternly. + +“Yes, in all soberness, I warn you,” said I, fixing my gaze upon him, +and holding his eyes until they fell to the floor. “Mr. Wallingford is +not the man to permit any one to use language about him, such as you +have indulged in. If you make use of another opprobrious epithet, I will +communicate the fact to him immediately. And let me say, that, unless +a different temper is manifested, I must terminate this interview at +once.” + +Judge Bigelow drew his nephew aside, and talked for some time with him, +in a low, earnest tone; after which the latter apologized, though with +an ill grace, for the intemperance of his manner--alleging that an old +wound smarted whenever Wallingford crossed his path. + +The result of this confidential talk was not as favorable on my mind as +Judge Bigelow had hoped to make it. I pitied his embarrassment; but the +conduct of Dewey confirmed my previous view of the case, which was to +require a transfer of the property specified by Mr. Wallingford, or +press for an immediate foreclosure of the mill investments. There was, I +felt satisfied, hazard in delay. + +When our next formal meeting took place, Dewey was again present. It was +in my thought to suggest that he was not a party covered by the business +to be considered, when Mr. Wallingford said, in his mild, grave way-- + +“I believe this is a meeting of the Executors under the two wills of +Captain Allen.” + +The meaning of his remark could not be misunderstood, for he glanced +towards Mr. Dewey as he spoke. That individual, however, did not choose +to regard himself as referred to, and made no sign. But Mr. Wallingford +was not the man to let a deliberate purpose fall to the ground. He +had come with the intention of objecting to Dewey's presence at the +conference, and to insist upon his retiring, as a preliminary to +business. + +No one replying to Mr. Wallingford's remark, he said, further-- + +“I do not mean to be uncourteous, but I must suggest the propriety of +Mr. Dewey's withdrawal.” + +“I am an interested party,” said Dewey, with ill-concealed anger. + +“Ah! I was not before aware of this,” replied Wallingford, and he +looked inquiringly towards the Judge and Squire. They showed an uneasy +perplexity of manner, but did not respond. + +“In what way are you interested?” queried Mr. Wallingford. + +“I am one of the guardians to the heir under an existing will.” + +“A will that the decision of our court has rendered null and void,” was +promptly answered. “We have not met to consider questions in which Leon +Garcia, or his representative, has any concern. Our business refers to +other matters.” + +Dewey moved uneasily, and seemed struggling to keep down his rising +displeasure. But he did not, manifest any intention to withdraw. + +“Had we not better proceed to business?” suggested Squire Floyd. + +“Not while Mr. Dewey remains,” said I, firmly taking the side of Mr. +Wallingford. + +“Somebody will repent himself of this!” exclaimed the ill-governed man, +passionately, starting to his feet, and striding from the office. + +“I don't understand this individual's conduct,” remarked Wallingford, in +a serious way. “Why has he presumed to intermeddle in our business? It +has a bad look.” + +He knit his brows closely, and put on a stern aspect, very unusual to +him. + +“You probably forget,” said Judge Bigelow, “that you have proposed a +change of ownership in property now occupied by him?” + +“That was simply to give you more latitude in settling up the estate +in your hands. I said we were willing to accept that property at a fair +valuation, thinking it would offer a desirable mode of liquidation. It +is for you to say yea or nay to us; not Ralph Dewey. If you cannot gain +his consent to the transfer, there is an end of that proposal.” + +I really commiserated the embarrassment shown by the Judge and Squire. +They seemed to be in a maze, without perceiving the right way of +extrication. Dewey appeared to have over them some mysterious influence, +above which they had not power to rise. + +“If Ralph will not consent--” + +“Ralph must consent!” exclaimed Squire Floyd, with a sudden energy of +manner, and the exhibition of a degree of will not shown before. “Ralph +_must_ consent! The mode of adjustment proposed by Mr. Wallingford is +the one easiest for us to accomplish, and I shall insist on Dewey's +giving up his opposition. There is a vast deal more of pride than +principle involved in his objection.” + +The Squire was breaking away from his fetters. + +“It is plain,” added Squire Floyd, “that his partners wish that property +to go in preference to any other. And it must go.” + +This was a style of remark quite unexpected on our part; and only added +firmness to our purpose. The interview was not prolonged in discussion. +We merely reaffirmed our ultimatum, and gave one week for the two men to +decide in what manner to close their trust. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +The decision was as I expected it to be; and the old property came back +into the family. There were few hearts in S----, that did not beat with +pleasure, when it was known that Mr. Wallingford and his lovely wife +were to pass from Ivy Cottage to the stately Allen House. + +I think the strife between Mr. Dewey and the old executors was severe, +and that he yielded only when he saw that they were immovable. An +open rupture with Squire Floyd was a consequence of his persistent +determination to have the Allen property transferred; and after the +settlement of this business, they held no personal communication with +each other. + +The change in Mr. Dewey's appearance, after it became a settled thing +that he must remove from the splendid mansion he had occupied for years, +was remarkable. He lost the impressive swagger that always said, “I am +the first man in S----;” and presented the appearance of one who +had suffered some great misfortune, without growing better under the +discipline. He did not meet you with the free, open, better-than-you +look that previously characterized him, but with a half sidelong falling +of the eyes, in which there was, to me, something very sinister. + +As far as our observation went, Mr. Wallingford put on no new phase of +character. There was about him the same quiet, thoughtful dignity of +manner which had always commanded involuntary respect. He showed no +unseemly haste in dispossessing Mr. Dewey of his elegant home. Two +months after the title deeds had passed, I called in at Ivy Cottage, now +one of the sweetest, little places in S----, for Constance, who had +been passing the evening there. Not in any home, through all the region +round, into which it was my privilege to enter, was there radiant, like +a warm, enticing atmosphere that swelled your lungs with a new vitality, +and gave all your pulses a freer beat, such pure love--maternal and +conjugal--as pervaded this sanctuary of the heart. I say maternal, +as well as conjugal, for two dear babes had brought into this home +attendant angels from the higher heaven. + +A soft astral lamp threw its mellow rays about the room. Mr. Wallingford +had a book open in his hand, from which he had been reading aloud to his +wife and Constance. He closed the volume as I entered, and rising, took +my hand, saying, with even more than his usual cordiality-- + +“Now our circle is complete.” + +“Excuse me from rising, Doctor,” said Mrs. Wallingford, a smile of +welcome giving increased beauty to her countenance, as she offered the +hand that was free--the other held her babe, just three months old, +tenderly to her bosom. + +“What have you been reading?” I asked, as I seated myself, and glanced +towards the volume which Mr. Wallingford had closed and laid upon the +table. + +“A memorable relation of the Swedish Seer,” he replied, smiling. + +“Touching marriage in heaven,” said I, smiling in return. + +“Or, to speak more truly,” he replied, “the union of two souls in +heaven, into an eternal oneness. Yes, that was the subject, and it +always interests me deeply. Our life here is but a span, and our brief +union shadowed by care, pain, sickness, and the never-dying fear of +parting. The sky of our being is not unclouded long. And therefore I +cannot believe that the blessedness of married love dies forever at the +end of this struggle to come into perfect form and beauty. No, Doctor; +the end is not here. And so Blanche and I turn often with an eager +delight to these relations, feeling, as we read, that they are not mere +pictures of fancy, but heavenly verities. They teach us that if we +would be united in the next world, we must become purified in this. +That selfish love, which is of the person must give place to a love for +spiritual qualities. That we must grow in the likeness and image of God, +if we would make one angel in His heavenly kingdom.” + +His eyes rested upon Blanche, as he closed the sentence, with a look +full of love; and she, as if she knew that the glance was coming, turned +and received it into her heart. + +I did not question the faith that carried them over the bounds of time, +and gave them delicious foreshadowings of the blessedness beyond. As I +looked at them, and marked how they seemed to grow daily into a oneness +of spirit, could I doubt that there was for them an eternal union? No, +no. Such doubts would have been false to the instincts of my own soul, +and false to the instincts of every conscious being made to love and be +loved. + +“The laying aside of this earthly investiture,” said Wallingford, +resuming, “the passage from mortal to immortal life, cannot change our +spirits, but only give to all their powers a freer and more perfect +development. Love is not a quality of the body, but of the spirit, and +will remain in full force, after the body is cast off like the shell of +a chrysalis. Still existing, it will seek its object. And shall it seek +forever and not find? God forbid! No! The love I bear my wife is not, +I trust, all of the earth, earthy; but instinct with a heavenly +perpetuity. And when we sleep the sleep of death, it will be in the +confident assurance of a speedy and more perfect conjunction of our +lives. On a subject of such deep concern, we are dissatisfied with the +vague and conjectural; and this is why the record of things seen and +heard in the spiritual world by Swedenborg--especially in what relates +to marriages in heaven--has for us such an absorbing interest.” + +“Are you satisfied with the evidence?” I ventured to inquire, seeing him +so confident. + +“Yes.” + +He answered quietly, and with an assured manner. + +“How do you reach a conclusion as to the truth of these things?” + +“Something after the same way that you satisfy yourself that the sun +shines.” + +“My eyes testify to me that fact. Seeing is believing,” I answered. + +“The spirit of a man has eyes as well as his body,” said Wallingford. +“And seeing is believing in another sense than you intimate. Now +the bodily eyes see material objects, and the mind, receiving their +testimony, is in no doubt as to the existence, quality, and relation of +things in the outer world. The eyes of our spirits, on the other hand, +see immaterial objects or truths; and presenting them to the rational +and perceptive faculties, they are recognized as actual existences, and +their quality as surely determined as the quality of a stone or metal. +If you ask me how I know that this is quartz, or that iron; I answer, By +the testimony of my eyes. And so, if you ask how I satisfy myself as to +the truth of which I read in this book; I can only reply that I see it +all so clearly that conviction is a necessity. There is no trouble in +believing. To attempt disbelief, would be to illustrate the fable of +Sisyphus.” + +He spoke calmly, like one whose mind had risen above doubt. I objected +nothing further; for that would have been useless. And why attempt to +throw questions into his mind? Was there anything evil in the faith +which he had adopted as exhibited in his life? I could not say yes. On +the contrary, taking his life as an illustration, good only was to be +inferred. I remembered very well when his mind diverged into this +new direction. Some years had intervened. I thought to see him +grow visionary or enthusiastic. Not so, however. There was a change +progressively visible; but it was in the direction of sound and rational +views of life. A broader humanity showed itself in his words and +actions. Then came the subtler vein of religious sentiments, running +like pure gold through all that appertained to him. + +If, therefore, he was progressing towards a higher life, why should I +question as to the way being right for him? Why should I seek to turn +him into another path when there was such a broad light for his eyes on +the one he had chosen? “By their fruits ye shall know them.” And by his +fruits I knew him to be of that highest type of manhood, a Christian +gentleman. + +I noticed, while Mr. Wallingford spoke so confidently of their reunion +in heaven, that his wife leaned towards, and looked at him, with eyes +through which her soul seemed going forth into his. + +As the conversation flowed on, it gradually involved other themes, and +finally led to the question On my part, as to when they were going to +leave Ivy Cottage. + +“That is quite uncertain,” replied Mr. Wallingford. “I shall not hurry +the present occupant. We have been so happy here, that we feel more +inclined to stay than to remove to a more ambitious home.” + +“I hear that Mr. Dewey is going to build,” said I. + +“Where?” + +“He has been negotiating for the property on the elevation west of the +Allen House.” + +“Ah!” + +“Yes. The price of the ground, five acres, is ten thousand dollars.” + +“The site is commanding and beautiful. The finest in S----, for one +who thinks mainly of attracting the attention of others,” said Mr. +Wallingford. + +“If he builds, we shall see something on a grander scale than anything +yet attempted in our neighborhood. He will overshadow you.” + +“The rivalry must be on his side alone,” was Mr. Wallingford's reply. +“No elegance or imposing grandeur that he may assume, can disturb me in +the smallest degree. I shall only feel pity for the defect of happiness +that all his blandishments must hide.” + +“A splendid Italian villa is talked of.” + +Mr. Wallingford shook his head. + +“You doubt all this?” said I. + +“Not the man's ambitious pride; but his ability to do what pride +suggests. He and his compeers are poorer, by a hundred thousand dollars, +than they deemed themselves a few short months ago.” + +“Have they met with heavy losses?” I asked, not understanding the drift +of his remark. + +“The estate in trust has been withdrawn.” + +“How should that make them poorer?” + +“It makes them poorer, in the first place, as to the means for carrying +on business. And it makes them poorer, in the second place, in the loss +of an estate, which, I am sorry to believe, Mr. Dewey and a part of his +New York associates regarded as virtually their own. + +“But the heir was approaching his majority,” said I. + +“And growing up a weak, vicious, self-indulgent young man, who, in the +hands of a shrewd, unscrupulous villain, might easily be robbed of his +fortune. You may depend upon it, Doctor, that somebody has suffered a +terrible disappointment, and one from which he is not likely soon to +recover. No--no! We shall see nothing of this princely Italian villa.” + +“I cannot believe,” I replied, “that the executors who had the estate in +trust were influenced by dishonorable motives. I know the men too well.” + +“Nor do I, Doctor,” he answered, promptly. “But, as I have before said, +they were almost wholly under the influence of Dewey, and I think that +he was leading them into mazes from which honorable extrication would +have been impossible.” + +“Have you given Dewey any notice of removal?” I inquired. + +“No--and shall not, for some time. I am in no hurry to leave this place, +in which the happiest days of my life have passed. Any seeming eagerness +to dispossess him, would only chafe a spirit in which I would not +needlessly excite evil passions. His pride must, I think, lead him at a +very early day to remove, and thus make a plain way before me.” + +“How long will you wait?” I asked. + +“Almost any reasonable time.” + +“You and he might not take the same view of what was reasonable,” said +I. + +“Perhaps not. But, as I remarked just now, being in no hurry to leave +our present home, I shall not disturb him for some months to come. No +change will be made by us earlier than next spring. And if he wishes to +spend the winter in his present abode, he is welcome to remain.” + +There was no assumed virtuous forbearance in all this; but a sincere +regard for the feelings and comfort of Dewey. This was so apparent, that +I did not question for a moment his generous consideration of a man who +would not have hesitated, if the power were given, to crush him to the +very earth. + +Many thoughts passed in my mind, as I pondered the incidents and +conversation of this evening. In looking back upon life, we see the sure +progress of causes to effects; and in the effects, the quality of the +causes. We no longer wonder at results--the only wonder is, that they +were not foreseen. Wise maxims, some of the garnered grains of our +fathers' experiences, are scattered through the books we read, and daily +fall from the lips of teachers and friends; maxims which, if observed, +would lead us to honor and happiness. But who gives them heed? Who makes +them the rule of his conduct? + +We might wonder less at the blind infatuation with which so many press +onward in a course that all the wisdom of the past, as well as all the +reason of the present, condemns, if it were possible to rub out our +actions, as a child rubs from his slate a wrong sum, and begin the work +of life over again. But this cannot be. We weave hourly the web that is +to bind us in the future. Our to-days hold the fate of our to-morrows. +What we do is done for ever, and in some degree will affect us +throughout infinite ages. + +“Poor Delia Floyd!” My thought had turned to her as I lay awake, +long after the small hours of the morning, busy with incidents and +reflections which had completely banished sleep from my eyes. In the +strong pity of my heart, I spoke the words aloud. + +“What of her?” said Constance, in a tone of surprise. And so intruding +thought had kept her awake also! + +“Nothing more than usual,” I answered. “But I cannot sleep for thinking +of her unhappy state, and what she might have been, if obeying her own +heart's right impulses, and the reason God gave her, she had accepted +a true man, instead of a specious villain for her husband. The scene in +Ivy Cottage to-night stands in most remarkable contrast with some things +I witnessed at the Allen House before she went out thence a wretched +woman for life. She staked everything on a desperate venture, and has +lost. God pity her! for there is no help in any human arm. To think of +what she is, and what she might have been, is enough to veil her reason +in midnight darkness.” + +“Amen! God pity her!” said Constance. “For truly there is no help for +her in mortal arm.” + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +The conduct of Mr. Wallingford, in regard to the estate which had +fallen into his hands, rather puzzled Dewey. He had anticipated an early +notification to remove, and, true to his character, had determined +to annoy the new owner by vexatious delays. But after the passage of +several weeks, in which came to him no intimation that he must give up +the possession of his elegant home, he began to wonder what it could +mean. + +One day, not long after the conversation with Wallingford, mentioned in +the last chapter, I met Mr. Dewey in the street. He stopped me and said, +in half-sneering way, + +“What of our honorable friend? Impatient, I suppose, to see the inside +of the Allen House?” + +“No,” I replied, “he has no wish to disturb you for the present.” + +“Indeed! You expect me to believe all that, of course.” + +There was a rudeness in his manner that was offensive; but I did not +care to let him see that I noticed it. + +“Why should you not believe my remark?” said I. “Is it a new thing in +your experience with men to find an individual considerate of another?” + +“What do you mean by considerate of another?” + +My form of speech touched his pride. + +“Mr. Wallingford has manifested towards you a considerate spirit,” said +I, speaking slowly and distinctly. “It naturally occurs to him that, +as you are so pleasantly situated at the Allen House, an early removal +therefrom might be anything but desirable. And so he has rested quietly +up to this time, leaving a decision as to the period with yourself.” + +“Humph! Very unselfish, truly!” + +His lip curled in disdain. + +“If you feel restive under this concession in your favor,” said I, +putting on a serious manner, “I would suggest independence as a remedy.” + +He looked at me curiously, yet with a scowling contraction of his brows. + +“Independence! What am I to understand by your remark?” + +“Simply this, Mr. Dewey. You are in the occupancy of property belonging +to Mr. Wallingford, and by his favor. Now, if you cannot receive a +kindness at his hands, in the name of all that is manly and independent, +put yourself out of the range of obligation.” + +I was not able to repress a sudden feeling of indignation, and so spoke +with warmth and plainness. + +“Thank you for your plainness of speech, Doctor,” he retorted, drawing +himself up in a haughty manner. + +“As to removing from the Allen House, I will do that just when it suits +my pleasure.” + +“Mr. Wallingford, you may be assured,” said I, “will not show any +unseemly impatience, if you do not find it convenient to make an early +removal. He knows that it cannot be agreeable for you to give up the +home of years, and he is too much of a Christian and a gentleman to do +violence to another's feelings, if it can be in any way avoided.” + +“Pah! I hate cant!” + +He threw his head aside in affected disgust. + +“We judge men by their actions, not their words,” said I. “If a man +acts with considerate kindness, is it cant to speak of him in terms of +praise? Pardon me, Mr. Dewey, but I think you are letting passion blind +you to another's good qualities.” + +“The subject is disagreeable to me, Doctor. Let us waive it.” + +“It was introduced by yourself, remember,” I replied; “and all that I +have said has been in response to your own remarks. This much good has +grown from it. You know just how Mr. Wallingford stands towards you, and +you can govern yourself according to your own views in the case. And now +let me volunteer this piece of advice. Never wantonly give offence to +another, for you cannot tell how soon you may find yourself in need of +his good services.” + +Dewey gave me a formal bow, and passed on his way. + +About a week afterwards, Judge Bigelow inquired of Wallingford as to +when he wished to get possession of the Allen House. + +“Whenever Mr. Dewey finds it entirely convenient to remove,” was the +unhesitating reply. + +“Suppose it should not be convenient this fall or winter?” + +“Very well. The spring will suit me. I am in no hurry. We are too +comfortable in Ivy Cottage to be in any wise impatient for change.” + +“Then it is your pleasure that Mr. Dewey remain until spring?” + +“If such an arrangement is desirable on his part, Judge, it is +altogether accordant with my feelings and convenience. Say to him that +he has only to consult his own wishes in the case.” + +“You are kind and considerate, Mr. Wallingford,” said the Judge, his +manner softening considerably, for there had been a coldness of some +years' standing on the part of Judge Bigelow, which more recent events +had increased. + +“And why should it be otherwise, Judge?” inquired his old student. + +“Mr. Dewey has not given you cause for either kindness or +consideration.” + +“It would hurt me more than it would him, were I to foster his unhappy +spirit. It is always best, I find, Judge, to be right with myself.” + +“All men would find it better for themselves, were they to let so fine +a sentiment govern their lives,” remarked Judge Bigelow, struck by the +language of Wallingford. + +“It is the only true philosophy,” was replied. “If a man is right with +himself, he cannot be wrong towards others; though it is possible, as in +my case, that other eyes, looking through a densely refracting medium, +may see him out of his just position. But he would act very unwisely +were he to change his position for all that. He will be seen right in +the end.” + +Judge Bigelow reached out his hand and grasped that of Mr. Wallingford. + +“Spoken like a man, Henry! Spoken like a man!” he said, warmly. “I only +wish that Ralph had something of your spirit. I have seen you a little +out of your right position, I believe; but a closer view is correcting +the error.” + +Wallingford returned the pressure as warmly as it was given, saying, as +he did so-- + +“I am aware, Judge, that you have suffered your mind to fall into a +state of prejudice in regard to me. But I am not aware of any thing +in my conduct towards you or others, to warrant the feeling. If in any +thing I have been brought into opposition, faithfulness to the interests +I represented has been the rule of my conduct. I have sought by no trick +of law to gain an advantage. The right and the just I have endeavored +to pursue, without fear and without favor. Can you give me a better rule +for professional or private life?” + +“I cannot, Henry,” was the earnest reply. “And if all men would so +pursue the right and the just, how different would be the result for +each, as the sure adjustment of advancing years gave them their true +places in the world's observation!” + +The Judge spoke in a half--absent way, and with a shade of regret in his +tones; Wallingford noted this with a feeling of concern. + +“Let us be friends in the future,” he added, again offering his hand to +Wallingford. + +“It will be your fault, not mine, if we are not fast fiends, Judge. I +have never forgotten the obligations of my boyhood; and never ceased +to regret the alienation you have shown. To have seemed in your eyes +ungrateful, has been a source of pain whenever I saw or thought of you.” + +The two men parted, each feeling better for the interview. A day or two +afterwards Wallingford received a note from Judge Bigelow asking him, +as a particular favor, to call at his office that evening. He went, +of course. The Judge was alone, and received him cordially. But, his +countenance soon fell into an expression of more than usual gravity. + +“Mr. Wallingford,” he said, after the passage of a few casual +observations, “I would like to consult you in strict confidence on some +matters in which I have become involved. I can trust you, of course?” + +“As fully as if the business were my own,” was the unhesitating answer. + +“So I have believed. The fact is, Henry, I have become so entangled in +this cotton mill business with Squire Floyd, Dewey, and others, that I +find myself in a maze of bewildering uncertainty. The Squire and Ralph +are at loggerheads, and seem to me to be getting matters snarled up. +There is no denying the fact that this summary footing of our accounts, +as executors, has tended to cripple affairs. We were working up to the +full extent of capital invested, and the absence of a hundred thousand +dollars--or its representative security--has made financiering a thing +of no easy consideration.” + +“I am afraid, Judge Bigelow,” said Wallingford, as the old man paused, +“that you are in the hands of one who, to gain his own ends, would +sacrifice you without a moment's hesitation.” + +“Who?” + +“You will permit me to speak plainly, Judge.” + +“Say on. The plain speech of a friend is better than the flatteries of +an enemy.” + +“I have no faith in Ralph Dewey.” + +The two men looked steadily at each other for some moments. + +“Over fifteen years' observation of the man has satisfied me that he +possesses neither honor nor humanity. He is your nephew. But that does +not signify. We must look at men as they are.” + +“His movements have not been to my satisfaction for some time,” said the +Judge; speaking as though conviction had to force itself upon his mind. + +“You should canvass all he does with the closest care; and if your +property lies in any degree at his mercy, change the relation as quickly +as possible.” + +“Are you not prejudiced against him, Henry?” The Judge spoke in a +deprecating tone. + +“I believe, sir, that I estimate him at his real value; and I do most +earnestly conjure you to set to work at once to disentangle your affairs +if seriously involved with his. If you do not, he will beggar you in +your old age, which God forbid!” + +“I am far from sure that I can disentangle my affairs,” said the Judge. + +“There is nothing like trying, you know.” Wallingford spoke in a tone of +encouragement. “And everything may depend on beginning in time. In what +way are you involved with him?” + +It was some time before Judge Bigelow answered this direct question. He +then replied, + +“Heavily in the way of endorsements.” + +“Of his individual paper?” + +“Yes. Also of the paper of his firm.” + +“To an extent beyond your ability to pay if there should be failure on +their part?” + +“Yes; to three times my ability to pay.” + +Wallingford dropped his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time. He +then looked up into Judge Bigelow's face, and said, + +“If that be so, I can see only one way for you.” + +“Say on.” + +“Let no more endorsements be given from this day forth.” + +“How can I suddenly refuse? The thing has been going on for years.” + +“You can refuse to do wrong on the plea of wrong. If your name gives no +real value to a piece of paper, yet accredits it in the eyes of others, +it is wrong for you to place your endorsement thereon. Is not this so?” + +“I admit the proposition, Henry.” + +“Very well. The only way to get right, is to start right. And my dear, +dear sir! let me implore you to take immediately the first step in a +right direction. Standing outside of the charmed circle of temptation as +I do, I can see the right way for your feet to walk in better than you +can. Oh, sir! Let me be eyes, and hand, and feet for you if need be; and +if it is not too late, I will save you from impending ruin.” + +Wallingford took the old man's hand, and grasped it warmly as he +spoke. The Judge was moved by this earnest appeal, coming upon him so +unexpectedly; and not only moved, but startled and alarmed by the tenor +of what was said. + +“The first thing,” he remarked, after taking time to get his thoughts +clear, “if I accept of your friendly overtures, is for me to lay before +you everything just as it is, so that you can see where I stand, and how +I stand. Without this, your view of the case would be partial, and your +conclusions might not be right.” + +“That is unquestionably so,” Wallingford replied. “And now, Judge, if +you wish my friendly aid, confide in me as you would a son or brother. +You will find me as true as steel.” + +A revelation succeeded that filled Mr. Wallingford with painful +astonishment. The endorsements of Judge Bigelow, on paper brought to him +by Dewey, and of which he took no memorandums, covered, no doubt, from a +hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Then, as to the affairs +of the Clinton Bank, of which Judge Bigelow was still the President, he +felt a great deal of concern. The Cashier and Mr. Dewey knew far more +about the business and condition of the institution than anybody else, +and managed it pretty much in their own way. The directors, if not +men of straw, might almost as well have been, for all the intelligent +control they exercised. As for Judge, Bigelow, the principal duty +required of him was to sign his name as President to great sheets of +bank bills, the denomination running from one dollar to a thousand. +Touching the extent to which these representatives of value were issued, +he knew nothing certain. He was shown, at regular periods, a statement +wherein the condition of the bank was set forth, and to which he +appended his signature. But he had no certain knowledge that the figures +were correct. Of the paper under discount over two-thirds was drawn or +endorsed by Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. + +At the time Judge Bigelow began investing in mill property, he was +worth, in productive stocks and real estate, from thirty to forty +thousand dollars. He now estimated his wealth at from sixty to eighty +thousand dollars; but it was all locked up in the mills. + +The result of this first interview between the Judge and Mr. Wallingford +was to set the former in a better position to see the character of his +responsibilities, and the extreme danger in which he stood. The clear, +honest, common sense way in which Wallingford looked at everything, and +comprehended everything, surprised his old preceptor; and gave him so +much confidence in his judgment and discretion, that he placed himself +fully in his hands. And well for him was it that he did so in time. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +In accordance with the advice of Mr. Wallingford, the first reactionary +movement on the part of Judge Bigelow, was his refusal to endorse any +more paper for his nephew, or the firm of which he was a member, on +the ground that such endorsements, on his part, were of no real value, +considering the large amounts for which he was already responsible, and +consequently little better than fraudulent engagements to pay. + +A storm between the uncle and nephew was the consequence, and the latter +undertook to drive the old gentleman back again into the traces, by +threats of terrible disasters to him and all concerned. If Judge Bigelow +had stood alone, the nephew would have been too strong for him. But he +had a clear-seeing, honest mind to throw light upon his way, and a young +and vigorous arm to lean upon in his hour of weakness and trial. And so +Ralph Dewey, to his surprise and alarm, found it impossible to bend the +Judge from his resolution. + +Then followed several weeks, during which time Dewey was flying back +and forth between New York and S----, trying to re-adjust the disturbed +balance of things. The result was as Mr. Wallingford had anticipated. +There was too much at stake for the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., +to let matters fail for lack of Judge Bigelow's endorsements. Some other +prop must be substituted for this one. + +The four months that followed were months of anxious suspense on the +part of Judge Bigelow and his true friend, who was standing beside +him, though invisible in this thing to all other eyes, firm as a rocky +pillar. No more endorsements were given, and the paper bearing his name +was by this time nearly all paid. + +“Right, so far,” said Mr. Wallingford, at the expiration of the time +in which most of the paper bearing Judge Bigelow's name reached its +maturity. “And now for the next safe move in this difficult game, where +the odds are still against us. You must get out of this Bank.” + +The Judge looked gravely opposed. + +“It may awaken suspicion that something is wrong, and create a run upon +the Bank, which would be ruin.” + +“Can you exercise a controlling influence in the position you hold? Can +you be true, as President of the Clinton Bank, to the public interest +you represent?” + +“I cannot. They have made of me an automaton.” + +“Very well. That settles the question. You cannot honorably hold your +place a single day. There is only one safe step, and that is to resign.” + +“But the loose way in which I held office will be exposed to my +successor.” + +“That is not the question to consider, Judge--but the right. Still, so +far as this fear is concerned, don't let it trouble you. The choice of +successor will fall upon some one quite as facile to the wishes of Ralph +Dewey & Company as you have been.” + +The good counsels of Mr. Wallingford prevailed. At the next meeting of +the Board of Directors, the resignation of Judge Bigelow was presented. +Dewey had been notified two days before of what was coming, and was +prepared for it. He moved, promptly, that the resignation be accepted. +As soon as the motion was carried, he offered the name of Joshua Kling, +the present Cashier, for the consideration of the Board, and urged his +remarkable fitness. Of course, Mr. Joshua Kling was elected; and +his place filled by one of the tellers. To complete the work, strong +complimentary resolutions, in which deep regret at the resignation +of Judge Bigelow was expressed, were passed by the Board. In the next +week's paper, the following notice of this change in the officers of the +Bank appeared: + +“_Resignation of Judge Bigelow._--In consequence of the pressure of +professional engagements, our highly esteemed citizen Judge Bigelow, +has found it necessary to give up the office of President in the +Clinton Bank, which he has held with so much honor to himself since the +institution commenced business. He is succeeded by Joshua Kling, Esq., +late Cashier; a gentleman peculiarly well-fitted for the position to +which he has been elevated. Harvey Weems, the first Teller, takes the +place of Cashier. A better selection, it would be impossible to make. +From the beginning, the affairs of this Bank have been managed with +great prudence, and it is justly regarded as one of the soundest in the +State.” + +“My dear friend,” said the grateful Judge, grasping the hand of +Wallingford, who called his attention to this notice, “what a world of +responsibility you have helped me to cast from my shoulders! I am to-day +a happier man than I have been for years. The new President is welcome +to all the honor his higher position may reflect upon him.” + +“The next work in order,” remarked the Judge's clear-headed, resolute +friend, “is to withdraw your investments from the cotton mills. That +will be a slower and more difficult operation; but it must be done, even +at a sacrifice. Better have fifty thousand dollars in solid real estate, +than a hundred thousand in that concern.” + +And so this further disentanglement was commenced. + +Winter having passed away, Mr. Dewey saw it expedient to retire from the +Allen House. By this time nothing more was heard of his Italian Villa. +He had something else to occupy his thoughts. As there was no house +to be rented in S----, that in any way corresponded with his ideas, he +stored his furniture, and took board at the new hotel which had lately +been erected. + +Mr. Wallingford now made preparations for removing to the old mansion, +which was still the handsomest place, by all odds, in our town. + +One day, early in the summer, I received a note from Mr. Wallingford, +asking me to call around at Ivy Cottage in the evening. At the bottom +of the note, was a pencilled line from his wife to Constance, asking the +pleasure of seeing her also. We went after tea. + +“Come with me to the library, Doctor!” said my excellent friend, soon +after our arrival. “I want to have a little talk with you.” + +So we left the ladies and retired to the library. + +“My business with you to-night,” said he, as we seated ourselves, facing +each other, on opposite sides of the library-table, “is to get at some +adjustment of affairs between us, as touching your executorship of the +Allen estate. I have asked two or three times for your bills against the +estate, but you have always put me off. Mr. Wilkinson, on the contrary, +rendered an account for services, which has been allowed and settled.” + +“The business required so little attention on my part,” I replied to +this, “that I have never felt that I could, in conscience, render an +account. And besides, it was with me so much a labor of love, that I +do not wish to mar the pleasure I felt by overlaying it with a +compensation.” + +“No man could possibly feel more deeply your generous good will toward +me and mine--manifested from the beginning until now--than I do, Doctor. +But I cannot permit the obligation to rest all on one side.” + +He pulled out a drawer of the library-table, as he said this, and taking +therefrom a broad parchment document, laid it down, and while his hand +rested upon it continued-- + +“Anticipating that, as heretofore, I might not be able to get your +figures, I have taken the matter into my own hands, and fixed the amount +of compensation--subject, of course, to objections on your part, if I +have made the award too low. These papers are the title deeds of Ivy +Cottage, executed in your favor. There are memories and associations +connected with this dear spot, which must for ever be sacred in +the hearts of myself and wife; and it would be pain to us to see it +desecrated by strangers. In equity and love, then, we pass it over to +you and yours; and may God give you as much happiness beneath its roof +as we have known.” + +Surprise kept me silent for some time. But as soon as my thoughts ran +free, I answered-- + +“No--no, Mr. Wallingford. This is fixing the sum entirely beyond a fair +estimate. I cannot for a moment--” + +He stopped me before I could finish the sentence. + +“Doctor!” He spoke with earnestness and deep feeling. “There is no +living man to whom I am so heavily indebted as I am to you. Not until +after my marriage was I aware that your favorable word, given without +qualification, bore me into the confidence of Mrs. Montgomery, and thus +opened the way for me to happiness and fortune. My good Blanche has +often repeated to me the language you once used in my favor, and which +awakened in her mind an interest which gradually deepened into love. My +heart moves towards you, Doctor, and you must let its impulses have way +in this small matter. Do not feel it as an obligation. That is all on +our side. We cannot let Ivy Cottage go entirely out of the family. We +wish to have as much property in it as the pilgrim has in Mecca. We must +visit it sometimes, and feel always that its chambers are the abodes of +peace and love. A kind Providence has given us of this world's goods an +abundance. We did not even have to lift our hands to the ripe clusters. +They fell into our laps. And now, if, from our plenty, we take a small +portion and discharge a debt, will you push aside the offering, and say, +No? Doctor, this must not be!” + +Again I essayed objection; but all was in vain. Ivy Cottage was to be +our pleasant home. When, on returning with Constance, I related to her +what had passed between Mr. Wallingford and myself, she was affected to +tears. + +“If I have ever had a covetous thought,” she said, “it has been when +I looked at Ivy Cottage. And to think it is to be mine! The sweetest, +dearest spot in S----!” + +There was no putting aside this good fortune. It came in such a shape, +that we could not refuse it without doing violence to the feelings of +true-hearted friends. And so, when they removed to their new home, we +passed to Ivy Cottage. + +The two years that followed were marked by no events of striking +interest. The affairs of Judge Bigelow continued to assume a better +shape, under the persistent direction of Mr. Wallingford, until every +dollar which he had invested in the cotton mills was withdrawn and +placed in real estate or sound securities. Long before this there had +come an open rupture between the old man and his nephew; but the Judge +had seen his real character in so clear a light that friendship was no +longer desirable. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +And now we have come down to the memorable summer and fall of 1857. No +gathering clouds, no far-distant, low-voiced thunder gave warning of an +approaching storm. The sky was clear, and the sun of prosperity moving +onward in his strength, when, suddenly, from the West came a quick flash +and an ominous roll of thunder. Men paused, looked at each other, and +asked what it meant. Here and there a note of warning was sounded; but, +if heeded by any, it came too late. There followed a brief pause, in +which people held their breaths. Then came another flash, and another +rattling peal. Heavy clouds began to roll up from the horizon; and soon +the whole sky was dark. Pale face looked into pale face, and tremulous +voices asked as to what was coming. Fear and consternation were in +all hearts. It was too late for any to seek refuge or shelter. Ere the +startled multitudes had stirred from their first surprised position, +the tempest came down in its fury, sweeping, tornado-like, from West to +East, and then into one grand gyration circling the whole horizon. Men +lost courage, confidence, and hope. They stood still while the storm +beat down, and the fearful work of destruction went on. + +No commercial disaster like this had ever before visited our country. +Houses that stood unmoved through many fierce convulsions went down +like brittle reeds, and old Corporations which were thought to be as +immovable as the hills tottered and fell, crushing hundreds amid their +gigantic ruins. + +Among the first to yield was the greatly extended house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co. The news came up on the wires to S----, with orders +to stop the mills and discharge all hands. This was the bursting of the +tempest on our town. Mr. Dewey had gone to New York on the first sign of +approaching trouble, and his return was looked for anxiously by all with +whom he was deeply interested in business. But many days passed and none +saw him, or heard from him. Failing to receive any communication, Squire +Floyd, who had everything involved, went down to New York. I saw him on +the morning of his return. He looked ten years older. + +It was soon whispered about that the failure of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & +Co. was a bad one. Then came intimations that Mr. Dewey was not in +New York, and that his partners, when questioned about him, gave very +unsatisfactory replies. + +“Have you any notes of the Clinton Bank, Doctor?” said a friend whom I +met in the street. “Because, if you have, take my advice and get rid of +them as quickly as possible. A run has commenced, and it's my opinion +that the institution will not stand for forty-eight hours.” + +It stood just forty-eight hours from the date of this prophecy, and then +closed its doors, leaving our neighborhood poorer by the disaster over +two hundred thousand dollars. There was scarcely a struggle in dying, +for the institution had suffered such an exhausting depletion that when +its extremity came it passed from existence without a throe. A Receiver +was immediately appointed, and the assets examined. These consisted, +mainly, of bills receivable under discount, not probably worth now ten +cents on the dollar. Three-fourths of this paper was drawn or endorsed +by New York firms or individuals, most of whom had already failed. The +personal account of Ralph Dewey showed him to be a debtor to the Bank +in the sum of nearly a hundred thousand dollars. The President, Joshua +Kling, had not been seen since the evening of the day on which the doors +of the Clinton Bank were shut, never to be opened for business again. +His accounts were all in confusion. The Cashier, who had succeeded +him on his elevation to the Presidency of the institution; was a mere +creature in his hands; and from his revelations it was plain that +robbery had been progressing for some time on a grand scale. + +As soon as these disastrous facts became known to the heaviest sufferers +in S----, the proper affidavits were made out, and requisitions obtained +for both Dewey and Kling, as defaulters and fugitives from justice. +The Sheriff of our county, charged with the duty of arrest, proceeded +forthwith to New York, and, engaging the services of detectives there, +began the search for Dewey, who, it was believed, had not left that +city. He was discovered, in a week, after having dexterously eluded +pursuit, on the eve of departure for England, disguised, and under an +assumed name. His next appearance in S----was as a prisoner in the hands +of our Sheriff, who lodged him in jail. Very heavy bonds being required +for his appearance at court, there was not found among us any one +willing to take the risk, who was qualified to become his surety. And so +the wretched man was compelled to lie in prison until the day of trial. + +Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who +visited him without delay. He found him a shrinking, cowed, and +frightened culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore +firm in bearing, though in a false and dangerous position. + +“This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford,” he said, on meeting the +lawyer--“a very bad business; and I have sent for you as a professional +gentleman of standing and ability, in order to have a consultation in +regard to my position--in fact, to place myself wholly in your hands. I +must have the best counsel, and therefore take the earliest opportunity +to secure your valuable services. Will you undertake my case?” + +“That will depend, Mr. Dewey,” was answered, “entirely upon how it +stands. If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your +innocence, I will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling your +accusers to the last. But if, on the contrary, you cannot show clean +hands, I am not the one to undertake your case.” + +Dewey looked at Mr. Wallingford strangely. He scarcely comprehended him. + +“I may have committed mistakes; all men are liable to error,” he +replied. + +“Mistake is one thing, Mr. Dewey, and may be explained; fraud is another +thing, and cannot be explained to mean any thing else. What I want you +to understand, distinctly, is this: If your connection with the Clinton +Bank has been, from the beginning, just and honorable, however much it +may now seem to be otherwise, I will undertake your case, and conduct +it, I care not through how great difficulties, to a favorable issue. But +if it has not been--and you know how it stands--do not commit your fate +to me, for I will abandon you the moment I discover that you have been +guilty of deliberate wrong to others.” + +The countenance of Mr. Dewey fell, and he seemed to shudder back into +himself. For some time he was silent. + +“If there is a foregone conclusion in your mind, that settles the +matter,” he said, at length, in a disappointed tone. + +“All I ask is clear evidence, Mr. Dewey. Foregone conclusions have +nothing to do with the matter,” replied Mr. Wallingford, “If you know +yourself to be innocent, you may trust yourself in my hands; if not, I +counsel you to look beyond me to some other man.” + +“All men are liable to do wrong, Mr. Wallingford; and religion teaches +that the door of repentance is open to every one.” + +“True, but the just punishment of wrong is always needed for a salutary +repentance. The contrition that springs from fear of consequences, +is not genuine repentance. If you have done wrong, you must take the +penalty in some shape, and I am not the man knowingly to stay the just +progression of either moral or civil law.” + +“Will you accept a retaining fee, even if not active in my case?” asked +Mr. Dewey. + +“No,” was the emphatic answer. + +A dark, despairing shadow fell over the miserable man's face, and he +turned himself away from the only being towards whom he had looked with +any hope in this great extremity of his life. + +Mr. Wallingford retired with pity in his heart. The spectacle was one of +the most painful he had ever witnessed. How was the mighty fallen!--the +proud brought low! As he walked from the prison, the Psalmist's striking +words passed through his mind--“I have seen the wicked in great power, +and spreading himself like a green bay tree; yet he passed away, and lo, +he was not.” + +When the day of trial came, Mr. Wallingford appeared as counsel for the +creditors of the Clinton Bank, on the side of the prosecution. He did +not show any eagerness to gain his case against the prisoner; but the +facts were so strong, and all the links in the chain of evidence so +clear, that conviction was inevitable. A series of frauds and robberies +was exposed, that filled the community with surprise and indignation; +and when the jury, after a brief consultation, brought in a verdict of +guilty, the expression of delight was general. Detestation of the man's +crimes took away all pity from the common sentiment in regard to him. A +sentence of five years' expiation in the State prison closed the career +of Ralph Dewey in S-----, and all men said: “The retribution is just.” + +Squire Floyd lost everything, and narrowly escaped the charge of +complicity with Dewey. Nothing but the fact of their known antagonism +for some two or three years, turned the public mind in his favor, and +enabled him to show that what appeared collusion, was only, so far as he +was concerned, fair business operations. With the wreck of his fortune +he came very near making also a wreck of his good name. Even as it was, +there were some in S----who thought the Squire had, in some things, gone +far beyond the rule of strict integrity. + +Judge Bigelow, thanks to the timely and resolute intervention of Mr. +Wallingford, stood far away from the crashing wrecks, when the storm +swept down in fearful devastation. It raged around, but did not touch +him; for he was safely sheltered, and beyond its reach. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +Two years have passed since these disastrous events; and twenty years +since the opening of our story. The causes at work in the beginning, +have wrought out their legitimate effects--the tree has ripened its +fruits--the harvest has been gathered. The quiet of old times has fallen +upon S----. It was only a week ago that steps were taken to set the long +silent mills in motion. A company, formed in Boston, has purchased the +lower mill, and rented from Mr. Wallingford the upper one, which was +built on the Allen estate. Squire Floyd, I learn, is to be the manager +here for the company. I am glad of this. Poor man! He was stripped +of everything, and has been, for the past two years, in destitute +circumstances. How he has contrived to live, is almost a mystery. The +elegant house which he had built for himself was taken and sold by +creditors, with the furniture, plate, and all things pertaining thereto, +and, broken-spirited, he retired to a small tenement on the outskirts of +the town, where he has since lived. His unhappy daughter, with her two +children, are with him. Her son, old enough to be put to some business, +she has placed in a store, where he is earning enough to pay his board; +while she and her daughter take in what sewing they can obtain, in order +to lessen, as far as possible, the burden of their maintenance. Alas for +her that the father of those children should be a convicted felon! + +I move about through S----on my round of duties, and daily there comes +to me some reminder of the events and changes of twenty years. I see, +here and there, a stranded wreck, and think how proudly the vessel +spread her white sails in the wind a few short years gone by, freighted +with golden hopes. But where are those treasures now? Lost, lost forever +in the fathomless sea! + +Twenty years ago, and now! As a man soweth, even so shall he reap. +Spring time loses itself in luxuriant summer, and autumn follows with +the sure result. If the seed has been good, the fruit will be good; but +if a man have sown only tares in his fields, he must reap in sorrow and +not in joy. There is no exception to the rule. A bramble bush can no +more bear grapes, than a selfish and evil life can produce happiness. +The one is a natural, and the other a spiritual, impossibility. + +A few days ago, as I was riding along on a visit to one of my patients, +I met Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford, with two of their children, driving +out in their carriage. They stopped, and we were passing a few pleasant +words, when there came by two persons, plainly, almost coarsely +dressed--a mother and her daughter. Both had bundles in their hands. +Over the mother's face a veil was drawn, and as she passed, with +evidently quickening steps, she turned herself partly away. The daughter +looked at us steadily from her calm blue eyes, in which you saw a shade +of sadness, as though already many hopes had failed. Her face was +pale and placid, but touched you with its expression of half-concealed +suffering, as if, young as she was, some lessons of pain and endurance +had already been learned. + +“Who are they?” asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +“Delia Floyd and her daughter,” said I. + +No remark was made. If my ears did not deceive me, I heard a faint sigh +pass the lips of Mr. Wallingford. + +I spoke to my horse, and, bowing mutually, we passed on our ways. + +“Twenty years ago, and now!” said I to myself, falling into a sober +mood, as thought went back to the sweet, fragrant morning of Delia's +life, and I saw it in contrast with this dreary autumn. “If the young +would only take a lesson like this to heart!” + +In the evening, Mr. Wallingford called to see me. + +“I have not been able, all day,” said he, “to get the image of that poor +woman and her daughter out of my mind. What are their circumstances, +Doctor?” + +“They live with Squire Floyd,” I answered, “and he is very poor. I think +Delia and her daughter support themselves by their needles.” + +“What a fall!” he said, with pity in his tones. + +“Yes, it was a sad fall--sad, but salutary, I trust.” + +“How was she after her separation from Mr. Dewey?” + +“Very bitter and rebellious, for a time. His marriage seemed to arouse +every evil passion of her nature. I almost shuddered to hear the +maledictions she called down upon the head of his wife one day, when +she rode by in the elegant equipage of which she had once been the proud +owner. She fairly trembled with rage. Since then, the discipline of the +inevitable in life has done its better work. She has grown subdued and +patient, and is doing all a mother in such narrow circumstances can do +for her children.” + +“What of Dewey's second wife?” asked Mr. Wallingford. + +“She has applied for a divorce from him, on the ground that he is a +convicted felon; and will get a decree in her favor, without doubt.” + +“What a history!” he exclaimed. Then, after a pause, he asked-- + +“Cannot something be done for Mr. Floyd?” + +“I have understood,” said I, “that the company about to start the mills +again have engaged him as manager.” + +“Is that so? Just what I was thinking,” he replied, with animation. “I +must look after that matter, and see that it does not fall through.” + +And he was in this, as in all things, as good as his word. It needed +only a favorable intimation from him to decide the company to place +their works in the hands of Squire Floyd, who was a man of skill and +experience in manufacturing, and one in whose integrity the fullest +confidence might be reposed. + +A month has passed; and Squire Floyd, engaged at a salary of two +thousand dollars a year, is again at the mills, busy in superintending +repairs, improvements, and additions. A few more weeks, and the rattle +of industry will commence, and the old aspect of things show itself in +S----. May the new mill owners be wiser than their predecessors! + +Squire Floyd has removed from the poor tenement lately the home of his +depressed family, and is back in the pleasant homestead he abandoned +years ago, when pride and ambition impelled him to put on a grander +exterior. It is understood that the company have bought the house, and +rent it to him at a very moderate price. My own impression is, that +Mr. Wallingford has more to do in the matter than people imagine. I am +strengthened in this view, from the fact of having seen Mrs. Wallingford +call at the Squire's twice during the past week. They are in good hands, +and I see a better future in store for them. + +And now, reader, you have the story I wished to tell. It is full of +suggestion to all who are starting forth upon life's perilous journey. +Let truth, honor, integrity, and humanity, govern all your actions. Do +not make haste to be rich, lest you fall into divers temptations. Keep +always close to the right; and always bear in mind that no wrong is ever +done that does not, sooner or later, return upon the wrong-doer. + +And above all, gentle maiden, be not dazzled by the condition or +prospect of any who seek your hand. + +Look away, down, deeply into the character, disposition, and quality; +and if these are not of good seeming, shun the proffered alliance as you +would death. Better, a thousand times, pass through life alone than wed +yourself to inevitable misery. So heeding the moralist, you will not, +in the harvest time which comes to all, look in despair over your barren +fields, but find them golden with Autumn's treasures, that shall fill +your granaries and crown your latter days with blessing. + +The End. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Allen House, by T. S. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/4588-0.zip b/4588-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab5cffc --- /dev/null +++ b/4588-0.zip diff --git a/4588-h.zip b/4588-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..917073b --- /dev/null +++ b/4588-h.zip diff --git a/4588-h/4588-h.htm b/4588-h/4588-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27f802c --- /dev/null +++ b/4588-h/4588-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11170 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Allen House, by T. S. Arthur + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Allen House, by T. S. Arthur + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Allen House + or Twenty Years Ago and Now + +Author: T. S. Arthur + +Release Date: January 29, 2010 [EBook #4588] +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ALLEN HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE ALLEN HOUSE + </h1> + <h2> + OR, TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By T. S. Arthur + </h2> + <h4> + <br /><br /> Philadelphia: <br /><br /> 1860 <br /> <br /> + </h4> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE. </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND NOW.</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE. + </h2> + <p> + WE point to two ways in life, and if the young man and maiden, whose feet + are lingering in soft green meadows and flowery walks, will consider these + two ways in sober earnest, before moving onward, and choose the one that + truth and reason tell them leads to honor, success, and happiness, our + book will accomplish its right work for them. It is a sad thing, after the + lapse of twenty years, to find ourselves amid ruined hopes;—to sit + down with folded hands and say, “Thus far life has been a failure!” Yet, + to how many is this the wretched summing up at the end of a single score + of years from the time that reason takes the helm! Alas! that so few, who + start wrong, ever succeed in finding the right way; life proving, even to + its last burdened years, a miserable failure! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND NOW. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + THE rain had poured in torrents all day, and now, for the third time since + morning, I came home, wet, uncomfortable and weary. I half dreaded to look + at the slate, lest some urgent call should stare me in the face. + </p> + <p> + “It must indeed be a case of life and death, that takes me out again + to-night,” said I, as my good wife met me in the entry, and with light + hands, made active by love, assisted in the removal of my great coat and + comforter. + </p> + <p> + “Now come into the sitting-room,” she said, “your slippers are on the rug, + and your dressing-gown warmed and waiting. Tea is ready, and will be on + the table by the time you feel a little comfortable. What a dreadful day + it has been!” + </p> + <p> + “Dreadful for those who have been compelled to face the storm,” I + remarked, as I drew off my boots, and proceeded to take advantage of all + the pleasant arrangements my thoughtful wife had ready for my solace and + delight. + </p> + <p> + It was on my lip to inquire if any one had called since I went out, but + the ringing of the tea-bell sent my thought in a new direction; when, with + my second self leaning on an arm, and my little Aggy holding tightly by my + hand, I moved on to the dining-room, all the disagreeable things of the + day forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one been here?” I asked, as I handed my cup for a third + replenishing. Professional habit was too strong—the query would + intrude itself. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wallingford called to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Is anybody sick?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so—but she evaded my inquiry, and said that she wished to + speak a word with the Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “She don't want me to call over to-night, I hope. Did she leave any word?” + </p> + <p> + “No. She looked troubled in her mind, I thought.” + </p> + <p> + “No other call?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Mary Jones sent word that something was the matter with the baby. It + cried nearly all last night, her little boy said, and to-day has fever, + and lies in a kind of stupor.” + </p> + <p> + “That case must be seen to,” I remarked, speaking to myself. + </p> + <p> + “You might let it go over until morning,” suggested my wife. “At any rate, + I would let them send again before going. The child may be better by this + time.” + </p> + <p> + “A call in time may save life here, Constance,” I made answer; the sense + of duty growing stronger as the inner and outer man felt the renovating + effects of a good supper, and the brightness and warmth of my pleasant + home. “And life, you know, is a precious thing—even a baby's life.” + </p> + <p> + And I turned a meaning glance upon the calm, sweet face of our latest + born, as she lay sleeping in her cradle. That was enough. I saw the tears + spring instantly to the eyes of my wife. + </p> + <p> + “I have not a word to say. God forbid, that in the weakness of love and + care for you, dear husband, I should draw you aside from duty. Yes—yes! + The life of a baby is indeed a precious thing!” + </p> + <p> + And bending over the cradle, she left a kiss on the lips, and a tear on + the pure brow of our darling. Now was I doubly strengthened for the night. + There arose at this instant a wild storm-wail, that shrieked for a brief + time amid the chimneys, and around the eaves of our dwelling, and then + went moaning away, sadly, dying at last in the far distance. The rain beat + heavily against the windows. But I did not waver, nor seek for reasons to + warrant a neglect of duty. “I must see Mary Jones's baby, and that + to-night.” I said this to myself, resolutely, by way of answer to the + intimidating storm. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jones was a widow, and poor. She lived full a quarter of a mile away. + So in deciding to make the visit that night, I hardly think a very strong + element of self-interest was included in the motives that governed me. But + that is irrelevant. + </p> + <p> + “As there is no prospect of an abatement in the storm,” said I, after + returning to our cosy little sitting-room, “it may be as well for me to + see the baby at once. The visit will be over, so far as I am concerned, + and precious time may be gained for the patient.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell Joseph to bring around the horse,” said my wife. + </p> + <p> + “No—I will walk. Poor beast! He has done enough for one day, and + shall not be taken out again.” + </p> + <p> + “Horse-flesh is not so precious as man-flesh,” Constance smiled + entreatingly, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. “Let Tom be harnessed + up; it won't hurt him.” + </p> + <p> + “The merciful man is merciful to his beast,” I made answer. “If + horse-flesh is cheaper than man-flesh, like most cheap articles, it is + less enduring. Tom must rest, if his master cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “The decision is final, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I must say yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly think your great coat is dry yet,” said my wife. “I had it hung + before the kitchen fire. Let me see.” + </p> + <p> + “You must wait for ten, or fifteen minutes longer,” she remarked, on + returning from the kitchen. “One sleeve was completely wetted through, and + I have turned it in order to get the lining dry.” + </p> + <p> + I sat down and took Agnes on my lap, and was just getting into a pleasant + talk with her, when the door-bell rung. A shadow fell across my wife's + face. + </p> + <p> + “People are thoughtless of Doctors,” she remarked, a little fretfully, + “and often choose the worst weather and the most untimely seasons to send + for them.” + </p> + <p> + I did not answer, but listened as the boy went to the door. Some one was + admitted, and shown into the office. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” I enquired, as Joseph came to the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + My wife and I exchanged glances. She looking grave and curious; but no + remark was made. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, Mrs. Wallingford,” said I, on entering my office. “This is + a very bad night for a lady to come out. I hope no one is seriously ill.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would come over and see our Henry, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + There was a choking tremor in her voice; and as I looked in her face, I + saw that it was pale and distressed. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I can't say what it is, Doctor. Something's wrong. I'm afraid—yes, + I'm afraid he's going out of his senses.” + </p> + <p> + And she wrung her hands together with a nervous uneasiness in singular + contrast with her usual quiet exterior. + </p> + <p> + “How is he affected?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Doctor, he came home last evening looking as white as a sheet. I + almost screamed out when I saw the strange, suffering expression on his + colorless face. My first thought was that he had fallen somewhere, and + been hurt dreadfully. He tried to pass me without stopping; but I put both + hands on him, and said—'Oh, Henry! what does ail you?' 'Nothing of + any account,' he answered, in a low, husky tone. 'I don't feel right well, + and am going to my room to lie down.' And saying this, he brushed right + past me, and went up stairs. I followed after him, but when I tried his + door it was fastened on the inside. I called three times before he + answered, and then he said—'Mother, I'm not sick; but I feel bad and + want to be alone. Please don't disturb me to-night.' I don't think I would + have known the voice if it hadn't been just then and there. Knowing his + disposition, anxious and troubled as I was, I felt that it would be best + for the time being to let him alone. And I did so. For an hour or more all + in his room was as still as death, and I began to grow very uneasy. Then I + heard his feet upon the floor moving about. I heard him walk to his bureau—my + ears served me for eyes—then to the mantlepiece, and then to the + window. All was still again for some minutes. My heart beat like a hammer, + as one vague suggestion after another floated through my mind. Then he + crossed the room with a slow step; turned and went back again; and so kept + on walking to and fro. I listened, waiting for the sound to cease; nut he + walked on and on, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, tramp, + tramp, tramp, until it seemed as if every jarring footfall was on my + heart. Oh, Doctor! I never had anything to affect me so before in my whole + life. An hour passed, and still he walked the floor of his room. I could + bear it no longer, and went and called to him. But he seemed deaf, and + made no reply. I rattled at the lock and called again and again. Then he + came close to the door, and said, speaking a little impatiently for him— + </p> + <p> + 'Mother! Mother! For Heaven's sake don't trouble me! I don't feel just + right, and you must let me alone for the present.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, he kept on walking for an hour longer, and then everything was + still in his room for the night. This morning on trying his door it was + unfastened. I went in. He was lying in bed wide awake. But, oh! such a + change as I saw in his face. It was colorless as on the evening before; + but less expressive of emotion. A dead calm seemed to have settled upon + it. I took his hand; it was cold. I pressed his forehead; it was cold + also. 'Henry, my son, how are you?' I asked. He did not reply; but looked + in my face with a cold, steady gaze that chilled me. 'Are you sick, my + son?' He merely shook his head slowly. 'Has anything happened? What has + happened?' I pressed my question upon him; but it was of no use. He would + not satisfy me. I then asked if he would not rise. 'Not yet,' he said. + 'Shall I bring you some breakfast?' 'No—no—I cannot eat.' And + he shook his head and shut his eyes, while there came into his face a look + so sad and suffering that as I gazed on him I could not keep the tears + back. + </p> + <p> + “And it has been no better with him all the day, Doctor,” added Mrs. + Wallingford, heaving a long sigh. “Oh, I am distressed to death about it. + Won't you come and see him? I'm afraid if something isn't done that he + will lose his senses.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no conjecture as to the cause of this strange condition of + mind?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “None,” she replied. “Henry is a reserved young man, you know, Doctor; and + keeps many things hidden in his mind even from me that should be + outspoken.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he no love affair on hand?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not.” + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't he been paying attention to Squire Floyd's daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “Delia?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe not, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen him at the Squire's.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing serious, or I should have known of it. Henry is rather shy about + the girls.” + </p> + <p> + “And you wish me to see him to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Something ought to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “What is his condition just now?” I inquired. “How did you leave him?” + </p> + <p> + “He's been in bed nearly all day, and hasn't touched a mouthful. To all my + persuasions and entreaties he answers—'Please, mother, let me alone. + I will be better after a while.'” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, after musing on the case, “that, may be, the let-alone + prescription will be the best one for the present. He is prostrated by + some strong mental emotion—that seems clear; and time must be given + for the mind to regain its equipoise. If I were to call, as you desire, it + might annoy or irritate him, and so do more harm than good. No medicine + that I can give is at all likely to reach his case.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wallingford looked disappointed, and demurred strongly to my + conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure, Doctor, if you saw him you might suggest something. Or, may be, + he would open his mind to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll think it over,” said I. “Mrs. Jones has sent for me to see her baby + to-night. I was just about starting when you called. On my way back, if, + on reflection, it seems to me advisable, I will drop in at your house.” + </p> + <p> + “Call at any rate, Doctor,” urged Mrs. Wallingford. “Even if you don't see + Henry, you may be able to advise me as to what I had better do.” + </p> + <p> + I gave my promise, and the troubled mother went back through storm and + darkness to her home. By this time my overcoat was thoroughly dried. As + Constance brought it forth warm from the fire, she looked into my face + with an expression of inquiry. But I was not ready to speak in regard to + Mrs. Wallingford, and, perceiving this at a glance, she kept silence on + that subject. + </p> + <p> + As I opened the front door, the storm swept into my face; but I passed out + quickly into the night, and shielding myself with an umbrella, as best I + could, bent to the rushing wind, and took my solitary way in the direction + of Mrs. Jones's humble dwelling, which lay quite upon the outskirts of our + town. To reach my destination, I had to pass the Old Allen House, which + stood within a high stone enclosure, surrounded by stately elms a century + old, which spread their great arms above and around the decaying mansion, + as if to ward off the encroachments of time. As I came opposite the gate + opening upon the carriage way, I stopped suddenly in surprise, for light + streamed out from both windows of the north-west chamber, which I knew had + been closed ever since the death of Captain Allen, who passed to his + account several years before. + </p> + <p> + This Allen House was one of the notable places in our town; and the + stories in circulation touching the Allen family, now almost extinct, were + so strongly tinctured with romance, that sober-minded people generally + received them with a large measure of incredulity. + </p> + <p> + The spacious old two-story mansion, with its high-pitched roof and rows of + dormer windows, was built by the father of Captain Allen, who had also + followed the sea, and, it was said, obtained his large wealth through + means not sanctioned by laws human or divine. Men and women of the past + generation, and therefore contemporaries, did not hesitate to designate + him an “old pirate,” though always the opprobrious words were spoken in an + undertone, for people were half afraid of the dark, reserved, evil-looking + man, who had evidently passed a large portion of his life among scenes of + peril and violence. There were more pleasing traditions of the beautiful + wife he brought home to grace the luxurious dwelling he had fitted up in a + style of almost princely splendor, compared with the plain abode of even + the best off people in town. Who she was, or from whence she came, no one + knew certainly. She was very young—almost a child—when the + elder Captain Allen brought her to S——. + </p> + <p> + Very little intercourse, I believe, passed between the Allen family and + the town's-people, except in a business way. The first regular entry made + into the house beyond the formal drawing-room, was on the occasion of a + birth, when the best nurse and gossip in town was summoned to attend the + young mistress. A son was born. He was called John; though not under the + sign of Christian baptism—John Allen; afterwards Captain Allen. The + old sea-dog, his father, was absent at the time; but returned before the + infant was four weeks old. The nurse described the meeting of husband and + wife as very lover-like and tender on his part, but with scarcely a sign + of feeling on hers. She did not repel him, nor turn from him; but received + his caresses with the manner of one in whom all quick emotion had died. + And so it continued between them—he thoughtful and assiduous, and + she cold, and for the most part silent. But, to her babe, the young mother + was passionate at times in her loving demonstrations. The pent up waters + of feeling gave way in this direction, and poured themselves out, often, + in a rushing flood. Towards all others she bore herself with a calm, sweet + dignity of manner, that captivated the heart, and made it sigh for a + better acquaintance with one around whom mystery had hung a veil that no + hand but her own could push aside—and that hand was never lifted. + </p> + <p> + The next event in the Allen House, noted by the people, was the birth of a + daughter. The same nurse was called in, who remained the usual time, and + then retired; bearing with her a history of the period, which she related, + very confidentially, at tea-tables, and in familiar gossip with choice + spirits of her own. + </p> + <p> + Those who knew her best, were always something in doubt as to which of her + stories contained truth and which romance. The latter element mingled + largely, it is presumed, in all of them. + </p> + <p> + A great change had taken place in the Captain's manner. He no longer + played the lover to a cold and distant mistress, but carried himself + haughtily at times—captiously at times—and always with an air + of indifference. All affection seemed transferred to his boy, who was + growing self-willed, passionate, and daring. These qualities were never + repressed by his father, but rather encouraged and strengthened. On + learning that his next heir was a daughter, he expressed impatience, and + muttered something about its being strangled at birth. The nurse said that + he never deigned even to look at it while she was in the house. + </p> + <p> + The beautiful young wife showed signs of change, also. Much of the old + sweetness had left her mouth, which was calmer and graver. Her manner + towards Captain Allen, noted before, was of the same quiet, distant + character, but more strongly marked. It was plain that she had no love for + him. The great mystery was, how two so wholly unlike in all internal + qualities, and external seeming, could ever have been constrained into the + relationship, of man and wife. She was, evidently, an English woman. This + was seen in her rich complexion, sweet blue eyes, fair hair, and quiet + dignity of manner. Among the many probable and improbable rumors as to her + first meeting with Captain Allen, this one had currency. A sailor, who had + seen a good deal of service in the West Indies, told the following story: + </p> + <p> + An English vessel from Jamaica, richly freighted, had on board a merchant + with his family, returning from a residence of a few years on the island, + to the mother country. + </p> + <p> + They had been out only a day, when a pirate bore down upon them, and made + an easy capture of the ship. The usual bloody scenes of that day followed. + Death, in terrible forms, met the passengers and crew, and the vessel, + after being robbed of its costliest treasures, was scuttled and sent down + into the far depths of the ocean, from whence no sign could ever come. + </p> + <p> + But one living soul was spared—so the story went. An only child of + the English merchant, a fair and beautiful young girl, whose years had + compassed only the early spring-time of life, flung herself upon her knees + before the pirate Captain and begged so piteously for life, that he spared + her from the general slaughter he had himself decreed. Something in her + pure, exquisitely beautiful face, touched his compassion. There were + murmurs of discontent among his savage crew. But the strong-willed Captain + had his way, and when he sailed back with his booty to their place of + rendezvous, he bore with him the beautiful maiden. Here, it was said, he + gave her honorable protection, and had her cared for as tenderly as was + possible under the circumstances. And it was further related, that, when + the maiden grew to ripe womanhood, he abandoned the trade of a buccaneer + and made her his wife. The sailor told this story, shrugged his shoulders, + looked knowing and mysterious, and left his auditors to draw what + inference they pleased. As they had been talking of Captain Allen, the + listeners made their own conclusion as to his identity with the buccaneer. + True to human nature, in its inclination to believe always the worst of a + man, nine out of ten credited the story as applied to the cut-throat + looking captain, and so, after this, it was no unusual thing to hear him + designated by the not very flattering sobriquet of the “old pirate.” + </p> + <p> + Later events, still more inexplicable in their character, and yet + unexplained, gave color to this story, and invested it with the elements + of probability. As related, the old gossip's second intrusion upon the + Aliens, in the capacity of nurse, furnished the town's-people with a few + additional facts, as to the state of things inside of a dwelling, upon + whose very walls seemed written mystery. In the beginning, Mrs. Allen had + made a few acquaintances, who were charmed with her character, as far as + she let herself be known. Visits were made and returned for a short + season. But after the birth of her first child, she went abroad but + rarely, and ceasing to return all visits, social intercourse came to an + end. The old nurse insisted that this was not her fault, but wholly + chargeable upon the Captain, who, she was certain, had forbidden his wife + to have anything to do with the town's-people. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + One day, nearly two years after the birth of this second child, the quiet + town of S——was aroused from its dreams by a strange and + startling event. About a week before, a handsomely dressed man, with the + air of a foreigner, alighted from the stage coach at the “White Swan,” and + asked if he could have a room. A traveler of such apparent distinction was + a rare event in S——; and as he suggested the probable stay of + a week or so, he became an object of immediate attention, as well as + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Night had closed in when he arrived, and as he was fatigued by his journey + in the old lumbering stage coach that ran between the nearest sea-port + town and S——, he did not show himself again that evening to + the curious people who were to be found idling about the “White Swan.” But + he had a talk with the landlord. That functionary waited upon him to know + his pleasure as to supper. + </p> + <p> + “The ride has given me a headache,” the stranger said, “which a cup of tea + will probably remove. Beyond that, I will take nothing to-night. Your name + is—” + </p> + <p> + “Adams, sir. Adams is my name,” replied the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “And mine is Willoughby—Col. Willoughby.” And the Englishman bowed + with a slight air of condescension. + </p> + <p> + “I am at your service, Col. Willoughby,” said the landlord in his blunt + way. “Just say what you want, and the thing is done.” + </p> + <p> + “A cup of tea will serve me to-night, my friend. Let it be good and + strong; for my head is a little unsettled with this throbbing pain. That + stage coach of yours would be something better for a pair of new springs.” + </p> + <p> + “It's seen service, and no mistake. But people in these parts don't + calculate much on easy riding. Springs are no great account. We look to + the main chance.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Getting over the ground.” + </p> + <p> + The traveler smiled to himself in a quiet way, as if the landlord's answer + had touched some memory or experience. + </p> + <p> + Nothing further being remarked, Mr. Adams retired to order a cup of tea + for his guest. Something about the Englishman had stimulated his + curiosity; and, so, instead of sending the cup of tea by his wife, who did + most of the waiting, he carried it to the room himself. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Mr. Adams,” said the traveler, after the tea had been put + before him. + </p> + <p> + The landlord did not wait for a second invitation. + </p> + <p> + “I hope the tea is to your liking, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent. I've not tasted better since I left London.” + </p> + <p> + The traveler spoke blandly, as he held his cup a little way from his lips, + and looked over the top of it at his host with something more than a + casual glance. He was reading his face with an evident effort to gain from + it, as an index, some clear impression of his character. + </p> + <p> + “My wife understands her business,” replied the flattered landlord. “There + is not her equal in all the country round.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe you, Mr. Adams. Already this delicious beverage has acted + like a charmed potion. My headache has left me as if by magic.” + </p> + <p> + He set his cup down; moved his chair a little way from the table at which + he was sitting, and threw a pleasant look upon the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been in this town, Mr. Adams?” The question seemed + indifferently asked; but the landlord's ear did not fail to perceive in + the tone in which it was given, a foreshadowing of much beyond. + </p> + <p> + “I was born here,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Then you know all the people, I imagine?” + </p> + <p> + “I know all their faces, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “And their histories and characters?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + Something in this “perhaps,” and the tone in which it was uttered, seemed + not to strike the questioner agreeably. He bent his brows a little, and + looked more narrowly at the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “I did not see much of your town as I came in this evening. How large is + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Middling good size, sir, for an inland town,” was the not very + satisfactory answer. + </p> + <p> + “What is the population?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know—can't just say to a certainty.” + </p> + <p> + “Two thousand?” + </p> + <p> + “Laws! no sir! Not over one, if that.” + </p> + <p> + “About a thousand, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe a thousand, and maybe not more than six or seven hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Call it seven hundred, then,” said the traveler, evidently a little + amused. + </p> + <p> + “And that will, in my view, be calling it enough.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. The traveler seemed in doubt as to whether he should go + on with his queries. + </p> + <p> + “Not much trade here, I presume?” He asked, at length. + </p> + <p> + “Not much to boast of,” said Adams. + </p> + <p> + Another pause. + </p> + <p> + “Any well-to-do people? Gentlemen who live on their means?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; there's Aaron Thompson. He's rich, I guess. But you can't measure a + snake 'till he's dead, as they say.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said the traveler, seeming to fall into the landlord's mood. + “Executors often change the public estimate of a man as to this world's + goods. So, Aaron Thompson is one of your rich men?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there's Abel Reeder—a close-fisted old dog, but wealthy as + a Jew, and no mistake. Then there is Captain Allen.” + </p> + <p> + A flash of interest went over the stranger's face, which was turned at + once from the light. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Allen! And what of him?” The voice was pitched to a lower tone; + but there was no appearance of special curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “A great deal of him.” The landlord put on a knowing look. + </p> + <p> + “Is he a sea captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes;” and lowering his voice, “something else besides, if we are to + credit people who pretend to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but you speak in riddles, Mr. Adams. What do you mean by something + more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the fact is, Mr. Willoughby, they do say, that he got his money in a + backhanded sort of fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “By gambling?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir! By piracy!” + </p> + <p> + Col. Willoughby gave a real or affected start. + </p> + <p> + “A grave charge that, sir.” He looked steadily at the landlord. “And one + that should not be lightly made.” + </p> + <p> + “I only report the common talk.” + </p> + <p> + “If such talk should reach the ears of Captain Allen?” suggested the + stranger. + </p> + <p> + “No great likelihood of its doing so, for I reckon there's no man in S——bold + enough to say 'pirate' to his face.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a man is he?” + </p> + <p> + “A bad specimen in every way.” + </p> + <p> + “He's no favorite of yours, I see?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no personal cause of dislike. We never had many words together,” + said the landlord. “But he's a man that you want to get as far away from + as possible. There are men, you know, who kind of draw you towards them, + as if they were made of loadstone; and others that seem to push you off. + Captain Allen is one of the latter kind.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a looking man is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Short; thick-set; heavily built, as to body. A full, coarse face; dark + leathery skin; and eyes that are a match for the Evil One's. There is a + deep scar across his left forehead, running past the outer corner of his + eye, and ending against the cheek bone. The lower lid of this eye is drawn + down, and the inside turned out, showing its deep red lining. There is + another scar on his chin. Two fingers are gone from his left hand, and his + right hand has suffered violence.” + </p> + <p> + “He has evidently seen hard service,” remarked the stranger, and in a + voice that showed him to be suppressing, as best he could, all signs of + interest in the landlord's communication. + </p> + <p> + “There's no mistake about that; and if you could only see him, my word for + it, you would fall into the common belief that blood lies upon his + conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall certainly put myself in the way of seeing him, after the spur you + have just given to my curiosity,” said Col. Willoughby, in a decided + manner, as if he had an interest in the man beyond what the landlord's + communication had excited. + </p> + <p> + “Then you will have to remain here something more than a week, I'm + thinking,” replied the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Allen isn't at home.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden change in the stranger's face that did not escape the + landlord's notice. But whether it indicated pleasure or disappointment, he + could not tell; for it was at best a very equivocal expression. + </p> + <p> + “Not at home!” His voice indicated surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How long has he been absent?” + </p> + <p> + “About a month.” + </p> + <p> + “And is expected to return soon, no doubt?” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, I can't say. Few people in this town I apprehend, can speak + with certainty as to the going and coming of Captain Allen.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he often away?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; but oftener of late than formerly.” + </p> + <p> + “Is his absence usually of a prolonged character?” + </p> + <p> + “It is much longer than it used to be—never less than a month, and + often extended to three times that period.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Willoughby sat without further remark for some time, his eyes bent + down, his brows contracted by thought, and his lips firmly drawn together. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my friend,” he said, at length, looking up, “for your patience + in answering my idle questions. I will not detain you any longer.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord arose, and, bowing to his guest, retired from the apartment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + On the next morning Colonel Willoughby plied the landlord with a few more + questions about Captain Allen, and then, inquiring the direction of his + house, started out, as he said, to take a ramble through the town. He did + not come back until near dinner time, and then he showed no disposition to + encourage familiarity on the part of Mr. Adams. But that individual was + not in the dark touching the morning whereabouts of his friend. A familiar + of his, stimulated by certain good things which the landlord knew when and + how to dispense, had tracked the stranger from the “White Swan” to Captain + Allen's house. After walking around it, on the outside of the enclosure + once or twice, and viewing it on all sides, he had ventured, at last, + through the gate, and up to the front door of the stately mansion. A + servant admitted him, and the landlord's familiar loitered around for + nearly three hours before he came out. Mrs. Allen accompanied him to the + door, and stood and talked with him earnestly for some time in the + portico. They shook hands in parting, and Colonel Willoughby retired with + a firm, slow step, and his eyes bent downwards as if his thoughts were + sober, if not oppressive. + </p> + <p> + All this Mr. Adams knew; and of course, his curiosity was pitched to a + high key. But, it was all in vain that he threw himself in the way of his + guest, made leading remarks, and even asked if he had seen the splendid + dwelling of Captain Allen. The handsome stranger held him firmly at a + distance. And not only on that day and evening, but on the next day and + the next. He was polite even to blandness, but suffered no approach beyond + the simplest formal intercourse. Every morning he was seen going to + Captain Allen's house, where he always stayed several hours. The + afternoons he spent, for the most part, in his own room. + </p> + <p> + All this soon became noised throughout the town of S——, and + there was a little world of excitement, and all manner of conjectures, as + to who this Colonel Willoughby might be. The old nurse, of whom mention + has been made, presuming upon her professional acquaintance with Mrs. + Allen, took the liberty of calling in one afternoon, when, to her certain + knowledge, the stranger was in the house. She was, however, disappointed + in seeing him. The servant who admitted her showed her into a small + reception-room, on the opposite side of the hall from the main parlor, and + here Mrs. Allen met her. She was “very sweet to her”—to use her own + words—sweet, and kind, and gentle as ever. But she looked paler than + usual, and did not seem to be at ease. + </p> + <p> + The nurse reported that something was going wrong; but, as to its exact + nature, she was in the dark. It certainly didn't look right for Mrs. Allen + to be receiving daily the visits of an elegant looking stranger, and her + husband away. There was only one opinion on this head. + </p> + <p> + And so it went on from day to day for nearly a week—Colonel + Willoughby, as he had called himself, spending the greater part of every + morning with Mrs. Allen, and hiding himself from curious eyes, during the + afternoons, in his room at the “White Swan.” Then came the denouement to + this exciting little drama. + </p> + <p> + One day the stranger, after dining, asked Mr. Adams for his bill, which he + paid in British gold. He then gave directions to have a small trunk, the + only baggage he had with him, sent to the house of Captain Allen. + </p> + <p> + The landlord raised his eyebrows, of course; looked very much surprised, + and even ventured a curious question. But the stranger repelled all + inquisition touching his movements. And so he left the “White Swan,” after + sojourning there for nearly a week, and the landlord never saw him again. + </p> + <p> + The news which came on the following day, created no little sensation in S——. + Jacob Perkins, who lived near Captain Allen's, and often worked for him, + told the story. His relation was to this effect: About ten o'clock at + night, Mrs. Allen sent for him, and he waited on her accordingly. He found + her dressed as for a journey, but alone. + </p> + <p> + “Take a seat, Jacob,” she said. “I wish to have some talk with you.” The + man noticed something unusual in her talk and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Jacob,” she resumed, after a pause, bending towards Mr. Perkins, “can I + trust you in a matter requiring both service and secrecy? I have done some + kind things for you and yours; I now wish you to return the favor.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, she drew out a purse, and let him see something of its + golden contents. + </p> + <p> + “Say on, Mrs. Allen. You may trust me. If you ask anything short of a + crime, it shall be done. Yes, you have been kind to me and mine, and now I + will repay you, if in my power to do so.” + </p> + <p> + Jacob Perkins was in earnest. But, whether gratitude, or that apparition + of golden sovereigns, had most influence upon him, cannot at this remote + period be said. + </p> + <p> + “Can you get a pair of horses and a carriage, or light wagon, to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I can,” replied Jacob. + </p> + <p> + “And so as not to excite undue curiosity?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Next, will you drive that team all night?” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Allen played with the purse of gold, and let the coins it + contained strike each other with a musical chink, very pleasant to the ear + of Jacob Perkins. + </p> + <p> + “You shall be paid handsomely for your trouble,” added the lady, as she + fixed her beautiful blue eyes upon Jacob with an earnest, almost pleading + look. + </p> + <p> + “I hope there is nothing wrong,” said Jacob, as some troublesome + suspicions began turning themselves over in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!” And Mrs. Allen lifted her pale face + reverently upwards. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, madam; I might have known that,” said Jacob. “And now, if you + will give me your orders, they shall be obeyed to the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my kind friend,” returned Mrs. Allen. “The service you are now + about to render me, cannot be estimated in the usual way. To me, it will + be far beyond all price.” + </p> + <p> + She was agitated, and paused to recover herself. Then she resumed, with + her usual calmness of manner— + </p> + <p> + “Bring the carriage here—driving with as little noise as possible—in + half an hour. Be very discreet. Don't mention the matter even to your + wife. You can talk with her as freely as you choose on your return from + Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “From Boston? Why, that is thirty miles away, at least!” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, Jacob; but I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. You + know the road?” + </p> + <p> + “Every foot of it.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better. And now go for the carriage.” + </p> + <p> + Jacob Perkins arose. As he was turning to go, Mrs. Allen placed her hand + upon his shoulder, and said— + </p> + <p> + “I can trust you, Mr. Perkins?” + </p> + <p> + “Madam, you can,” was his reply; and he passed from the quiet house into + the darkness without. The night was moonless, but the stars shone down + from an unclouded sky. When Jacob Perkins found himself alone, and began + to look this adventure full in the face, some unpleasant doubts touching + the part he was about to play, intruded themselves upon his thoughts. He + had seen the handsome stranger going daily to visit Mrs. Allen, for now + nearly a week, and had listened to the town talk touching the matter, + until his own mind was filled with the common idea, that something was + wrong. And now, to be called on to drive Mrs. Allen to Boston, secretly, + and under cover of the night, seemed so much like becoming a party to some + act of folly or crime, that he gave way to hesitation, and began to seek + for reasons that would justify his playing the lady false. Then came up + the image of her sweet, reverent face, as she said so earnestly, “Nothing + wrong, as God is my witness!” And his first purpose was restored. + </p> + <p> + Punctually, at half-past ten o'clock, the team of Jacob Perkins drove + noiselessly in through the gate, and up the carriage-way to the door of + the Allen mansion. No lights were visible in any part of the house. Under + the portico were two figures, a man and a woman—the man holding + something in his arms, which, on a closer observation, Jacob saw to be a + child. Two large trunks and a small one stood near. + </p> + <p> + “Put them on the carriage,” said Mrs. Allen, in a low, steady voice; and + Jacob obeyed in silence. When all was ready, she got in, and the man + handed her the sleeping child, and then took his place beside her. + </p> + <p> + “To Boston, remember, Jacob; and make the time as short as possible.” + </p> + <p> + No other words were spoken. Jacob led his horses down the carriage-way to + the gate, which he closed carefully after passing through; and then + mounting to his seat, drove off rapidly. + </p> + <p> + But little conversation took place between Mrs. Allen and her traveling + companion; and that was in so low a tone of voice, that Jacob Perkins + failed to catch a single word, though he bent his ear and listened with + the closest attention whenever he heard a murmur of voices. + </p> + <p> + It was after daylight when they arrived in Boston, where Jacob Perkins + left them, and returned home with all speed, to wake up the town of S——with + a report of his strange adventure. Before parting with Mrs. Allen, she + gave him a purse, which, on examination, was found to contain a hundred + dollars in gold. She also placed in his hand a small gold locket, and + said, impressively, while her almost colorless lips quivered, and her + bosom struggled with its pent up feelings— + </p> + <p> + “Jacob, when my son—he is now absent with his father—reaches + his tenth year, give him this, and say that it is a gift from his mother, + and contains a lock of her hair. Can I trust you faithfully to perform + this office of love?” + </p> + <p> + Tears filled her eyes; then her breast heaved with a great sob. + </p> + <p> + “As Heaven is my witness, madam,” answered Jacob Perkins, “it shall be + done.” + </p> + <p> + “Remember,” she said, “that you are only to give this to John, and not + until his tenth year. Keep my gift sacred from the knowledge of every one + until that time, and then let the communication be to him alone.” + </p> + <p> + Jacob Perkins promised to do according to her wishes, and then left her + looking so pale, sad, and miserable, that, to use his own words, “he never + could recall her image as she stood looking, not at him, but past him, as + if trying to explore the future, without thinking of some marble statue in + a grave-yard.” + </p> + <p> + She was never seen in S——again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + The excitement in the little town of S——, when Jacob returned + from Boston, and told his singular story, may well be imagined. The whole + community was in a buzz. + </p> + <p> + It was found that Mrs. Allen had so arranged matters, as to get all the + servants away from the house, on one pretence or another, for that night, + except an old negro woman, famous for her good sleeping qualities; and she + was in the land of forgetfulness long before the hour appointed for + flight. + </p> + <p> + Many conjectures were made, and one or two rather philanthropic + individuals proposed, as a common duty, an attempt to arrest the fugitives + and bring them back. But there were none to second this, the general + sentiment being, that Captain Allen was fully competent to look after his + own affairs. And that he wood look after them, and promptly too, on his + return, none doubted for an instant. As for Jacob Perkins, no one + professed a willingness to stand in his shoes. The fire-eating Captain + would most probably blow that gentleman's brains out in the heat of his + first excitement. Poor Jacob, not a very courageous man, was almost beside + himself with fear, when his view of the case was confidently asserted. One + advised this course of conduct on the part of Jacob, and another advised + that, while all agreed that it would on no account be safe for him to fall + in the Captain's way immediately on his return. More than a dozen people, + friends of Jacob, were on the alert, to give him the earliest intelligence + of Captain Allen's arrival in S——, that he might hide himself + until the first fearful outbreak of passion was over. + </p> + <p> + Well, in about two weeks the Captain returned with his little son. + Expectation was on tip-toe. People's hearts beat in their mouths. There + were some who would not have been surprised at any startling occurrence; + an apparition of the scarred sea-dog, rushing along the streets, slashing + his sword about like a madman, would have seemed to them nothing + extraordinary, under the circumstances. + </p> + <p> + But expectation stood so long on tip-toe that it grew tired, and came down + a few inches. Nothing occurred to arouse the quiet inhabitants. Captain + Allen was seen to enter his dwelling about two o'clock in the afternoon, + and although not less than twenty sharp pairs of eyes were turned in that + direction, and never abated their vigilance until night drew down her + curtains, no one got even a glimpse of his person. + </p> + <p> + Jacob Perkins left the town, and took refuge with a neighbor living two + miles away, on the first intimation of the Captain's return. + </p> + <p> + The next day passed, but no one saw the Captain. On the third day a member + of the inquisitorial committee, who had his house under constant + observation, saw him drive out with his son, and take the road that went + direct to the neighborhood where Jacob Perkins lay concealed in the house + of a friend. + </p> + <p> + Poor Jacob! None doubted but the hour of retribution for him was at hand. + That he might have timely warning, if possible, a lad was sent out on a + fleet horse, who managed to go by Captain Allen's chaise on the road. Pale + with affright, the unhappy fugitive hid himself under a hay rick, and + remained there for an hour. But the Captain passed through without pause + or inquiry, and in due course of time returned to his home, having + committed no act in the least degree notable. + </p> + <p> + And so, as if nothing unusual had happened, he was seen, day after day, + going about as of old, with not a sign of change in his deportment that + any one could read. In a week, Jacob Perkins returned to his home, fully + assured that no harm was likely to visit him. + </p> + <p> + No event touching Captain Allen or his family, worthy of record, + transpired for several years. The only servants in the house were negro + slaves, brought from a distance, and kept as much as possible away from + others of their class in town. Among these, the boy, John, grew up. When + he was ten years old, Jacob Perkins, though in some fear, performed the + sacred duty promised to his mother on that memorable morning, when he + looked upon her pale, statuesque countenance for the last time. A flush + covered the boy's face, as he received the locket, and understood from + whence it came. He stood for some minutes, wholly abstracted, as if under + the spell of some vivid memory. + </p> + <p> + Tears at length filled his eyes, and glistened on the long fringed lashes. + Then there was a single, half-repressed sob—and then, grasping the + locket tightly in his hand, he turned from Jacob, and, without a word, + walked hastily away. + </p> + <p> + When the boy was sixteen, Captain Allen took him to sea. From that period + for many years, both of them were absent for at least two-thirds of the + time. At twenty-five, John took command of a large merchant-man, trading + to the South American coast, and his father, now worn down by hard + service, as well as by years, retired to his home in S——, to + close up there, in such repose of mind as he could gain, the last days of + his eventful life. He died soon after by apoplexy. + </p> + <p> + Prior to this event, his son, the younger Captain Allen, had brought home + from Cuba a Spanish woman, who took the name of his wife. Of her family, + or antecedents, no one in our town knew anything; and it was questioned by + many whether any rite of marriage had ever been celebrated between them. + Of this, however, nothing certain was known. None of the best people, so + called, in S——paid her the hospitable compliment of a visit; + and she showed no disposition to intrude herself upon them. And so they + stood towards each other as strangers; and the Allen house remained, as + from the beginning, to most people a terra incognita. + </p> + <p> + Neither Captain Allen nor his Spanish consort, to whom no children were + born, as they advanced in years, “grew old gracefully.” Both had repulsive + features, which were strongly marked by passion and sensuality. During the + last two years of his life I was frequently called to see him, and + prescribe for his enemy, the gout, by which he was sorely afflicted. Mrs. + Allen also required treatment. Her nervous system was disordered; and, on + closer observation, I detected signs of a vagrant imagination, leading her + away into states verging upon insanity. She was fretful and ill-tempered; + and rarely spoke to the Captain except complainingly, or in anger. The + visits I made to the Allen house, during the lifetime of Captain Allen, + were among the most unsatisfactory of all my professional calls. I think, + from signs which met my eyes, that something more than bitter words passed + occasionally between the ill-matched couple. + </p> + <p> + Late in the day, nearly five years anterior to the time of which I am now + writing, I was summoned in haste to visit Captain Allen. I found him lying + on a bed in the north-west chamber, where he usually slept, in a state of + insensibility. Mrs. Allen received me at the door of the chamber with a + frightened countenance. On inquiry as to the cause of his condition, she + informed me that he had gone to his own room about an hour before, a + little the worse for a bottle of wine; and that she had heard nothing more + from him, until she was startled by a loud, jarring noise in his chamber. + On running up stairs, she found him lying upon the floor, insensible. + </p> + <p> + I looked at her steadily, as she gave me this relation, but could not hold + her eyes in mine. She seemed more uneasy than troubled. There was a + contused wound just below the right temple, which covered, with its livid + stain, a portion of the cheek. A cursory examination satisfied me that, + whatever might be the cause of his fall, congestion of the brain had + occurred, and that but few chances for life remained. So I informed Mrs. + Allen. At the words, I could see a shudder run through her frame, and an + expression of something like terror sweep over her face. + </p> + <p> + “His father died of apoplexy,” said she in a hoarse whisper, looking at me + with a side-long, almost stealthy glance, not full and open-eyed. + </p> + <p> + “This is something more than apoplexy,” I remarked; still observing her + closely. + </p> + <p> + “The fall may have injured him,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “The blow on his temple has done the fearful work,” said I. + </p> + <p> + There was a perceptible start, and another look of fear-almost terror. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, doctor,” she said, rousing herself, and speaking half + imperatively, “do something! Don't stand speculating about the cause; but + do something if you have any skill.” + </p> + <p> + Thus prompted, I set myself to work, in good earnest, with my patient. The + result was in no way flattering to my skill, for he passed to his account + in less than an hour, dying without a sign. + </p> + <p> + I shall never forget the wild screams which rang awfully through the old + mansion, when it was announced to Mrs. Allen that the Captain was dead. + She flung herself upon his body, tore her hair, and committed other + extravagances. All the slumbering passions of her undisciplined nature + seemed quickened into sudden life, overmastering her in their strong + excitement. So it would have seemed to a less suspicious observer; but I + thought that I could detect the overacting of pretence. I may have done + her wrong; but the impression still remains. At the funeral, this + extravagant role of grief was re-enacted, and the impression was left on + many minds that she was half mad with grief. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally, after this event, I was summoned to the Allen House to see + its unhappy mistress. I say unhappy, for no human being ever had a face + written all over with the characters you might read in hers, that was not + miserable. I used to study it, sometimes, to see if I could get anything + like a true revelation of her inner life. The sudden lighting up of her + countenance at times, as you observed its rapidly varying expression, made + you almost shudder, for the gleam which shot across it looked like a + reflection from hell. I know no other word to express what I mean. + Remorse, at times, I could plainly read. + </p> + <p> + One thing I soon noticed; the room in which Captain Allen died—the + north-west chamber before mentioned—remained shut up; and an old + servant told me, years afterwards, that Mrs. Allen had never been inside + of it since the fatal day on which I attended him in his last moments. + </p> + <p> + At the time when this story opens the old lady was verging on to sixty. + The five years which had passed since she was left alone had bent her form + considerably, and the diseased state of mind which I noticed when first + called in to visit the family as a physician, was now but a little way + removed from insanity. She was haunted by many strange hallucinations; and + the old servant above alluded to, informed me, that she was required to + sleep in the room with her mistress, as she never would be alone after + dark. Often, through the night, she would start up in terror, her diseased + imagination building up terrible phantoms in the land of dreams, alarming + the house with her cries. + </p> + <p> + I rarely visited her that I did not see new evidences of waning reason. In + the beginning I was fearful that she might do some violence to herself or + her servants, but her insanity began to assume a less excitable form; and + at last she sank into a condition of torpor, both of mind and body, from + which I saw little prospect of her ever rising. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” I said to myself. “Life had better wane slowly away than to + go out in lurid gleams like the flashes of a dying volcano.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + And now, reader, after this long digression, you can understand my + surprise at seeing broad gleams of light reaching out into the darkness + from the windows of that north-west chamber, as I breasted the storm on my + way to visit the sick child of Mary Jones. No wonder that I stood still + and looked up at those windows, though the rain beat into my face, half + blinding me. The shutters were thrown open, and the curtains drawn partly + aside. I plainly saw shadows on the ceiling and walls as of persons moving + about the room. Did my eyes deceive me? Was not that the figure of a young + girl that stood for a moment at the window trying to pierce with her eyes + the thick veil of night? I was still in doubt when the figure turned away, + and only gave me a shadow on the wall. + </p> + <p> + I lingered in front of the old house for some minutes, but gaining no + intelligence of what was passing within, I kept on my way to the humbler + dwelling of Mary Jones. I found her child quite ill, and needing + attention. After doing what, in my judgment, the case required, I turned + my steps towards the house of Mrs. Wallingford to look into the case of + her son Henry, who, according to her account, was in a very unhappy + condition. + </p> + <p> + I went a little out of my way so as to go past the Allen House again. As I + approached, my eyes were directed to the chamber windows at the north-west + corner, and while yet some distance away, as the old elms tossed their + great limbs about in struggling with the storm, I saw glancing out between + them the same cheery light that met my astonished gaze a little while + before. As then, I saw shadows moving on the walls, and once the same + slender, graceful figure—evidently that of a young girl—came + to the window and tried to look out into the deep darkness. + </p> + <p> + As there was nothing to be gained by standing there in the drenching + storm, I moved onward, taking the way to Mrs. Wallingford's dwelling. I + had scarcely touched the knocker when the door was opened, and by Mrs. + Wallingford herself. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad you've come!” she said in a low, troubled voice. + </p> + <p> + I stepped in out of the rain, gave her my dripping umbrella, and laid off + my overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “How is Henry now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She put her finger to her lip, and said, in a whisper, + </p> + <p> + “Just the same, Doctor—just the same. Listen! Don't you hear him + walking the floor overhead? I've tried to get him to take a cup of tea, + but he won't touch any thing. All I can get out of him is—'Mother—dear + mother—leave me to myself. I shall come right again. Only leave me + to myself now.' But, how can I let him go on in this way? Oh, Doctor, I am + almost beside myself! What can it all mean? Something dreadful has + happened.” + </p> + <p> + I sat listening and reflecting for something like ten minutes. Steadily, + from one side the room overhead to the other, went the noise of feet; now + slowly, now with a quicker motion: and now with a sudden tramp, that sent + the listener's blood with a start along its courses. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you see him, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + I did not answer at once, for I was in the dark as to what was best to be + done. If I had known the origin of his trouble, I could have acted + understandingly. As it was, any intrusion upon the young man might do harm + rather than good. + </p> + <p> + “He has asked to be let alone,” I replied, “and it may be best to let him + alone. He says that he will come out right. Give him a little more time. + Wait, at least, until to-morrow. Then, if there is no change, I will see + him.” + </p> + <p> + Still the mother urged. At last I said— + </p> + <p> + “Go to your son. Suggest to him a visit from me, and mark the effect.” + </p> + <p> + I listened as she went up stairs. On entering his room, I noticed that he + ceased walking. Soon came to my ears the murmur of voices, which rose to a + sudden loudness on his part, and I distinctly heard the words: + </p> + <p> + “Mother! you will drive me mad! If you talk of that, I will go from the + house. I <i>must</i> be left alone!” + </p> + <p> + Then all was silent. Soon Mrs. Wallingford came down. She looked even more + distressed than when she left the room. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid it might do harm,” she said doubtingly. + </p> + <p> + “So am I. It will, I am sure, be best to let him have his way for the + present. Something has disturbed him fearfully; but he is struggling hard + for the mastery over himself, and you may be sure, madam, that he will + gain it. Your son is a young man of no light stamp of character; and he + will come out of this ordeal, as gold from the crucible.” + </p> + <p> + “You think so, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a hopeful light in her troubled countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I do, verily. So let your heart dwell in peace.” + </p> + <p> + I was anxious to get back to my good Constance, and so, after a few more + encouraging words for Mrs. Wallingford, I tried the storm again, and went + through its shivering gusts, to my own home. There had been no calls in my + absence, and so the prospect looked fair for a quiet evening—just + what I wanted; for the strange condition of Henry Wallingford, and the + singular circumstance connected with the old Allen House, were things to + be conned over with that second self, towards whom all thought turned and + all interest converged as to a centre. + </p> + <p> + After exchanging wet outer garments and boots, for dressing gown and + slippers; and darkness and storm for a pleasant fireside; my thoughts + turned to the north-west chamber of the Allen House, and I said— + </p> + <p> + “I have seen something to-night that puzzled me.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” inquired my wife, turning her mild eyes upon me. + </p> + <p> + “You know the room in which old Captain Allen died?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “The chamber on the north-west corner, which, as far as we know, has been + shut up ever since?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember your suspicion as to foul play on the part of Mrs. Allen, + who, it is believed, has never visited the apartment since the Captain's + death.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will be surprised to hear that the shutters are unclosed, and + lights burning in that chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “Now!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—or at least half an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + “That is remarkable.” + </p> + <p> + My wife looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “And more remarkable still—I saw shadows moving on the walls, as of + two or three persons in the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Something unusual has happened,” said my wife. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Mrs. Allen is dead.” + </p> + <p> + This thought had not occurred to me. I turned it over for a few moments, + and then remarked, + </p> + <p> + “Hardly probable—for, in that case, I would have been summoned. No; + it strikes me that some strangers are in the house; for I am certain that + I saw a young girl come to the window and press her face close up to one + of the panes, as if trying to penetrate the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Singular!” said my wife, as if speaking to herself. “Now, that explains, + in part, something that I couldn't just make out yesterday. I was late in + getting home from Aunt Elder's you know. Well, as I came in view of that + old house, I thought I saw a girl standing by the gate. An appearance so + unusual, caused me to strain my eyes to make out the figure, but the + twilight had fallen too deeply. While I still looked, the form + disappeared; but, through an opening in the shrubbery, I caught another + glimpse of it, as it vanished in the portico. I was going to speak of the + incident, but other matters pushed it, till now, from my thoughts when you + were at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Then my eyes did not deceive me,” said I; “your story corroborates mine. + There is a young lady in the Allen House. But who is she? That is the + question.” + </p> + <p> + As we could not get beyond this question, we left the riddle for time to + solve, and turned next to the singular state of mind into which young + Henry Wallingford had fallen. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said my wife, speaking with some emphasis, after I had told her of + the case, “I never imagined that he cared so much for the girl!” + </p> + <p> + “What girl?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Delia Floyd—the silly fool! if I must speak so strongly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is really in love with Squire Floyd's daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “It looks like it, if he's taking on as his mother says,” answered my + wife, with considerable feeling. “And Delia will rue the day she turned + from as true a man as Henry Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, Constance! you've got deeper into this matter, than either his + mother or me. Who has been initiating you into the love secrets of S——?” + </p> + <p> + “This affair,” returned my wife, “has not passed into town talk, and will, + I trust, be kept sacred by those who know the facts. I learned them from + Mrs. Dean, the sister of Mrs. Floyd. The case stands thus: Henry is + peculiar, shy, reserved, and rather silent. He goes but little into + company, and has not the taking way with girls that renders some young men + so popular. But his qualities are all of the sterling kind—such as + wear well, and grow brighter with usage. For more than a year past, he has + shown a decided preference for Delia Floyd, and she has encouraged his + attentions. Indeed, so far as I can learn from Mrs. Dean, the heart of her + niece was deeply interested. But a lover of higher pretensions came, + dazzling her mind with a more brilliant future.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “That dashing young fellow from New York, Judge Bigelow's nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Ralph Dewey?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Foolish girl, to throw away a man for such an effigy! It will be a dark + day that sees her wedded to him. But I will not believe in the possibility + of such an event.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, to go on with my story,” resumed Constance. “Last evening, seeing, + I suppose, that a dangerous rival was intruding, Henry made suit for the + hand of Delia, and was rejected.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand the case better now,” said I, speaking from a professional + point of view. + </p> + <p> + “Poor young man! I did not suppose it was in him to love any woman after + that fashion,” remarked Constance. + </p> + <p> + “Your men of reserved exterior have often great depths of feeling,” I + remarked. “Usually women are not drawn towards them; because they are + attracted most readily by what meets the eye. If they would look deeper, + they would commit fewer mistakes, like that which Delia Floyd has just + committed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + Delia Floyd was a girl of more than ordinary attractions, and it is not + surprising that young Wallingford was drawn, fascinated, within the + charmed circle of her influence. She was, by no means, the weak, vain, + beautiful young woman, that the brief allusion I have made to her might + naturally lead the reader to infer. I had possessed good opportunities for + observing her, for our families were intimate, and she was frequently at + our house. Her father had given her a good education—not showy; but + of the solid kind. She was fond of books, and better read, I think, in the + literature of the day, than any other young lady in S——. Her + conversational powers were of a high order. Good sense, I had always given + her credit for possessing; and I believed her capable of reading character + correctly. She was the last one I should have regarded as being in danger + of losing a heart to Ralph Dewey. + </p> + <p> + In person, Delia was rather below than above the middle stature. Her hair + was of a dark brown, and so were her eyes—the latter large and + liquid. Her complexion was fresh, almost ruddy, and her countenance + animated, and quick to register every play of feeling. + </p> + <p> + In manner, she was exceedingly agreeable, and had the happy art of putting + even strangers at ease. It was no matter of wonder to me, as I said + before, that Henry Wallingford should fall in love with Delia Floyd. But I + did wonder, most profoundly, when I became fully assured, that she had, + for a mere flash man, such as Ralph Dewey seemed to me, turned herself + away from Henry Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + But women are enigmas to most of us—I don't include you, dear + Constance!—and every now and then puzzle us by acts so strangely out + of keeping with all that we had predicated of them, as to leave no + explanation within our reach, save that of evil fascination, or temporary + loss of reason. We see their feet often turning aside into ways that we + know lead to wretchedness, and onward they move persistently, heeding + neither the voice of love, warning, nor reproach. They hope all things, + believe all things, trust all things, and make shipwreck on the breakers + that all eyes but their own see leaping and foaming in their course. Yes, + woman is truly an enigma! + </p> + <p> + Squire Floyd was a plain, upright man, in moderately good circumstances. + He owned a water power on the stream that ran near our town, and had built + himself a cotton mill, which was yielding him a good annual income. But he + was far from being rich, and had the good sense not to assume a style of + living beyond his means. + </p> + <p> + Henry Wallingford was the son of an old friend of Squire Floyd's. The + elder Mr. Wallingford was not a man of the Squire's caution and prudence. + He was always making mistakes in matters of business, and never succeeded + well in any thing. He died when his son was about eighteen years of age. + Henry was at that time studying law with Judge Bigelow. As, in the + settlement of his father's estate, it was found to be wholly insolvent, + Henry, unwilling to be dependent on his mother, who had a small income in + her own right, gave notice to the Judge that he was about to leave his + office. Now, the Judge was a man of penetration, and had already + discovered in the quiet, reserved young man, just the qualities needed to + give success in the practice of law. He looked calmly at his student for + some moments after receiving this announcement, conning over his face, + which by no means gave indications of a happy state of mind. + </p> + <p> + “You think you can find a better preceptor?” said the Judge, at last, in + his calm way. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir! no!” answered Henry, quickly. “Not in all this town, nor out of + it, either. It is not that, Judge Bigelow.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't fancy the law?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, there is no other calling in life that presents to my + mind any thing attractive,” replied Henry, in a tone of despondency that + did not escape the Judge. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that is the case, why not keep on? You are getting along + bravely.” + </p> + <p> + “I must support myself, sir—must do something besides sitting here + and reading law books.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, I see.” The Judge spoke to himself, as if light had broken into + his mind. “Well, Henry,” he added, looking at the young man, “what do you + propose doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I have hands and health,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Something more than hands and health are required in this world. What can + you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I can work on a farm, if nothing better offers. Or, may be, I can get a + place in some store.” + </p> + <p> + “There's good stuff in the lad,” said Judge Bigelow to himself. Then + speaking aloud— + </p> + <p> + “I'll think this matter over for you, Henry. Let it rest for a day or two. + The law is your proper calling, and you must not give it up, if you can be + sustained in it.” + </p> + <p> + On that very day, Judge Bigelow saw Squire Floyd, and talked the matter + over with him. They had but one sentiment in the matter, and that was + favorable to Henry's remaining where he was. + </p> + <p> + “Can he be of any service to you, in your office, Judge—such as + copying deeds and papers, hunting up cases, and the like?” asked the + Squire. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he can be of service to me in that way; and is of service now.” + </p> + <p> + “You can afford to pay him something?” suggested Squire Floyd. + </p> + <p> + “It is usual,” replied the Judge, “to get this kind of service in return + for instruction and office privileges.” + </p> + <p> + “I know; but this case is peculiar. The death of Henry's father has left + him without a support, and he is too independent to burden his mother. + Unless he can earn something, therefore, he must abandon the law.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that, Squire, and have already decided to compensate him,” + said the Judge. “But what I can offer will not be enough.” + </p> + <p> + “How much can you offer?” + </p> + <p> + “Not over a hundred dollars for the first year.” + </p> + <p> + “Call it two hundred, Judge,” was the ready answer. + </p> + <p> + The two men looked for a moment into each other's faces. + </p> + <p> + “His father and I were friends from boyhood,” said Squire Floyd. “He was a + warm-hearted man; but always making mistakes. He would have ruined me two + or three times over, if I had been weak enough to enter into his plans, or + to yield to his importunities in the way of risks and securities. It often + went hard for me to refuse him; but duty to those dependent on me was + stronger than friendship. But I can spare a hundred dollars for his son, + and will do it cheerfully. Only, I must not be known in the matter; for it + would lay on Henry's mind a weight of obligation, not pleasant for one of + his sensitive disposition to bear.” + </p> + <p> + “I see, Squire,” answered Judge Bigelow to this; “but then it won't place + me in the right position. I shall receive credit for your benevolence.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't trouble yourself on that score,” answered the Squire, laughing. “It + may be that I shall want some law business done—though heaven + forbid! In that case, I will call on you, and you can let Henry do the + work. Thus the equilibrium of benefits will be restored. Let the salary be + two hundred.” + </p> + <p> + And so this matter being settled, Henry Wallingford remained in the office + of Judge Bigelow. The fact of being salaried by the Judge, stimulated him + to new efforts, and made him forward to relieve his kind preceptor of all + duties within the range of his ability. There came, during the next year, + an unusually large amount of office practice—preparing deeds, making + searches, and drawing up papers of various kinds. In doing this work, + Henry was rapid and reliable. So, when Squire Floyd tendered his + proportion of the young man's salary to his neighbor, the Judge declined + receiving it. The Squire urged; but the Judge said— + </p> + <p> + “No; Henry has earned his salary, and I must pay it, in simple justice. I + did not think there was so much in him. Business has increased, and + without so valuable an assistant, I could not get along.” + </p> + <p> + So the way had opened before Henry Wallingford, and he was on the road to + a successful manhood. At the time of his introduction to the reader, he + was in his twenty-third year. On attaining his majority, he had become so + indispensable to Judge Bigelow, who had the largest practice in the + county, that no course was left for him but to offer the young man a share + in his business. It was accepted; and the name of Henry Wallingford was + thenceforth displayed in gilt letters, in the office window of his + preceptor. + </p> + <p> + From that time, his mind never rested with anything like care or anxiety + on the future. His daily life consisted in an almost absorbed devotion to + his professional duties, which grew steadily on his hands. His affection + was in them, and so the balance of his mind was fully sustained. Ah, if we + could all thus rest, without anxiety, on the right performance of our + allotted work! If we would be content to wait patiently for that success + which comes as the orderly result of well-doing in our business, trades, + or professions, what a different adjustment would there be in our social + condition and relations! There would not be all around us so many eager, + care-worn faces—so many heads bowed with anxious thought—so + many shoulders bent with burdens, destined, sooner or later, to prove too + great for the strength which now sustains them. But how few, like Henry + Wallingford, enter with anything like pleasure into their work! It is, in + most cases, held as drudgery, and regarded only as the means to cherished + ends in life wholly removed from the calling itself. Impatience comes as a + natural result. The hand reaches forth to pluck the growing fruit ere it + is half ripened. No wonder that its taste is bitter to so many thousands. + No wonder that true success comes to so small a number—that to so + many life proves but a miserable failure. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + The morning which broke after that night of storm was serene and + beautiful. The air had a crystal clearness, and as you looked away up into + the cloudless azure, it seemed as if the eye could penetrate to an + immeasurable distance. The act of breathing was a luxury. You drew in + draught after draught of the rich air, feeling, with every inhalation, + that a new vitality was absorbed through the lungs, giving to the heart a + nobler beat, and to the brain a fresh activity. With what a different + feeling did I take up my round of duties for the day! Yesterday I went + creeping forth like a reluctant school boy; to-day, with an uplifted + countenance and a willing step. + </p> + <p> + Having a few near calls to make, I did not order my horse, as both health + and inclination were better served by walking. Soon after breakfast I + started out, and was going in the direction of Judge Bigelow's office, + when, hearing a step behind me that had in it a familiar sound, I turned + to find myself face to face with Henry Wallingford! He could hardly have + failed to see the look of surprise in my face. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Henry,” I said, giving him my hand, and trying to speak + with that cheerful interest in the young man which I had always endeavored + to show. + </p> + <p> + He smiled in his usual quiet way as he took my hand and said in return, + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “You were not out, I believe, yesterday,” I remarked, as we moved on + together. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't feel very well,” he answered, in a voice pitched to a lower key + than usual; “and, the day being a stormy one, I shut myself up at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said I, in a cheerful way, “you lawyers have the advantage of us + knights of the pill box and lancet. Rain or shine, sick or well, we must + travel round our parish.” + </p> + <p> + “All have their share of the good as well as the evil things of life,” he + replied, a little soberly. “Doctors and lawyers included.” + </p> + <p> + I did not observe any marked change in the young man, except that he was + paler, and had a different look out of his eyes from any that I had + hitherto noticed; a more matured look, which not only indicated deeper + feeling, but gave signs of will and endurance. I carried that new + expression away with me as we parted at the door of his office, and + studied it as a new revelation of the man. It was very certain that + profounder depths had been opened in his nature—opened to his own + consciousness—than had ever seen the light before. That he was more + a man than he had ever been, and more worthy to be mated with a true + woman. Up to this time I had thought of him more as a boy than as a man, + for the years had glided by so quietly that bore him onward with the rest, + that he had not arisen in my thought to the full mental stature which the + word manhood includes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said I, as I walked on, “what a mistake in Delia Floyd! She is just + as capable of high development as a woman as he is as a man. How admirably + would they have mated. In him, self-reliance, reason, judgment, and deep + feeling would have found in her all the qualities they seek—taste, + perception, tenderness and love. They would have grown upwards into higher + ideas of life, not downwards into sensualism and mere worldliness, like + the many. Alas! This mistake on her part may ruin them both; for a man of + deep, reserved feelings, who suffers a disappointment in love, is often + warped in his appreciation of the sex, and grows one-sided in his + character as he advances through the cycles of life.” + </p> + <p> + I had parted from Henry only a few minutes when I met his rival, Ralph + Dewey. Let me describe him. In person he was taller than Wallingford, and + had the easy, confident manner of one who had seen the world, as we say. + His face was called handsome; but it was not a manly face—manly in + that best sense which includes character and thought. The chin and mouth + were feeble, and the forehead narrow, throwing the small orbs close + together. But he had a fresh complexion, dark, sprightly eyes, and a + winning smile. His voice was not very good, having in it a kind of + unpleasant rattle; but he managed it rather skillfully in conversation, + and you soon, ceased to notice the peculiarity. + </p> + <p> + Ralph lived in New York, where he had recently been advanced to the + position of fourth partner in a dry goods jobbing house, with a small + percentage on the net profits. Judging from the air with which he spoke of + his firm's operations, and his relation to the business, you might have + inferred that he was senior instead of junior partner, and that the whole + weight of the concern rested on his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Judge Bigelow, a solid man, and from professional habit skilled in reading + character, was, singularly enough, quite carried away with his smart + nephew, and really believed his report of himself. Prospectively, he saw + him a merchant prince, surrounded by palatial splendors. + </p> + <p> + Our acquaintance was as yet but slight, so we only nodded in passing. As + we were in the neighborhood of Squire Floyd's pleasant cottage, I was + naturally curious, under the circumstances, to see whether the young man + was going to make a visit at so early an hour; and I managed to keep long + enough in sight to have this matter determined. Ralph called at the + Squire's, and I saw him admitted. So I shook my head disapprovingly, and + kept on my way. + </p> + <p> + Not until late in the afternoon did I find occasion to go into that part + of the town where the old Allen house was located, though the image of its + gleaming north-west windows was frequently in my thought. The surprise + occasioned by that incident was in no way lessened on seeing a carriage + drive in through the gateway, and two ladies alight therefrom and enter + the house. Both were in mourning. I did not see their faces; but, judging + from the dress and figure of each, it was evident that one was past the + meridian of life, and the other young. Still more to my surprise, the + carriage was not built after our New England fashion, but looked heavy, + and of a somewhat ancient date. It was large and high, with a single seat + for the driver perched away up in the air, and a footman's stand and + hangings behind. There was, moreover, a footman in attendance, who sprung + to his place after the ladies had alighted, and rode off to the stables. + </p> + <p> + “Am I dreaming?” said I to myself, as I kept on my way, after witnessing + this new incident in the series of strange events that were + half-bewildering me. But it was in vain that I rubbed my eyes; I could not + wake up to a different reality. + </p> + <p> + It was late when I got home from my round of calls, and found tea awaiting + my arrival. + </p> + <p> + “Any one been here?” I asked—my usual question. + </p> + <p> + “No one.' The answer pleased me for I had many things on my mind, and I + wished to have a good long evening with my wife. Baby Mary and Louis were + asleep: but we had the sweet, gentle face of Agnes, our first born, to + brighten the meal-time. After she was in dream-land, guarded by the loving + angels who watch with children in sleep, and Constance was through with + her household cares for the evening, I came into the sitting-room from my + office, and taking the large rocking-chair, leaned my head back, mind and + body enjoying a sense of rest and comfort. + </p> + <p> + “You are not the only one,” said my wife, looking up from the basket of + work through which she had been searching for some article, “who noticed + lights in the Allen House last evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Who else saw them?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dean says she heard two or three people say that the house was lit + up all over—a perfect illumination.” + </p> + <p> + “Stories lose nothing in being re-told. The illumination was confined to + the room in which Captain Allen died. I am witness to that. But I have + something more for your ears. This afternoon, as I rode past, I saw an + old-fashioned English coach, with a liveried driver and footman, turn into + the gate. From this two ladies alighted and went into the house; when the + coach was driven to the stables. Now, what do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “We are to have a romance enacted in our very midst, it would seem,” + replied my wife, in her unimpassioned way. “Other eyes have seen this + also, and the strange fact is buzzing through the town. I was only waiting + until we were alone to tell you that these two ladies whom you saw, + arrived at the Allen House in their carriage near about daylight, on the + day before yesterday. But no one knows who they are, or from whence they + came. It is said that they made themselves as completely at home as if + they were in their own house; selected the north-west chamber as their + sleeping apartment; and ordered the old servants about with an air of + authority that subdued them to obedience.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of Mrs. Allen?” I asked, in astonishment at all this. + </p> + <p> + “The stories about her reception of the strangers do not agree. According + to one, the old lady was all resistance and indignation at this intrusion; + according to another, she gave way, passively, as if she were no longer + sole mistress of the house.” + </p> + <p> + Constance ceased speaking, for there came the usual interruption to our + evening <i>tete-a-tete</i>—the ringing of my office bell. + </p> + <p> + “You are wanted up at the Allen House, Doctor, said my boy, coming in from + the office a few moments afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “Who is sick?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “The old lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Any thing serious?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir. But I should think there was from the way old Aunty + looked. She says, come up as quickly as you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she in the office?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. She just said that, and then went out in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “The plot thickens,” said I, looking at Constance. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old lady!” There was a shade of pity in her tones. + </p> + <p> + “You have not seen her for many years?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor old witch of Endor! were better said.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” answered my wife, smiling, “you know that the painter's idea of this + celebrated individual has been reversed by some, who affirm that she was + young and handsome instead of old and ugly like modern witches.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how that may be, but if you could see Mrs. Allen, you would + say that 'hag' were a better term for her than woman. If the good grow + beautiful as they grow old, the loving spirit shining like a lamp through + the wasted and failing walls of flesh, so do the evil grow ugly and + repulsive. Ah, Constance, the lesson is for all of us. If we live true + lives, our countenances will grow radiant from within, as we advance in + years; if selfish, worldly, discontented lives, they will grow cold, hard, + and repulsive.” + </p> + <p> + I drew on my boots and coat, and started on my visit to the Allen House. + The night was in perfect contrast with the previous one. There was no + moon, but every star shone with its highest brilliancy, while the galaxy + threw its white scarf gracefully across the sky, veiling millions of suns + in their own excessive brightness. I paused several times in my walk, as + broader expanses opened between the great elms that gave to our town a + sylvan beauty, and repeated, with a rapt feeling of awe and admiration, + the opening stanza of a familiar hymn:— + </p> + <p> + “The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And + spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim.” + </p> + <p> + How the beauty and grandeur of nature move the heart, as if it recognized + something of its own in every changing aspect. The sun and moon and stars—the + grand old mountains lifting themselves upwards into serene heights—the + limitless expanse of ocean, girdling the whole earth—rivers, + valleys, and plains—trees, flowers, the infinite forms of life—to + all the soul gives some response, as if they were akin. + </p> + <p> + I half forgot my interest in old Mrs. Allen, as my heart beat responsive + to the pulsings of nature, and my thoughts flew upwards and away as on the + wings of eagles. But my faithful feet had borne me steadily onwards, and I + was at the gate opening to the grounds of the Allen House, before I was + conscious of having passed over half the distance that lay between that + and my home. I looked up, and saw a light in the north-west chamber, but + the curtains were down. + </p> + <p> + On entering the house, I was shown by the servant who admitted me, into + the small office or reception room opening from the hall. I had scarcely + seated myself, when a tall woman, dressed in black, came in, and said, + with a graceful, but rather stately manner— + </p> + <p> + “The Doctor, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + How familiar the voice sounded! And yet I did not recognise it as the + voice of any one whom I had known, but rather as a voice heard in dreams. + Nor was the calm, dignified countenance on which my eyes rested, strange + in every lineament. The lady was, to all appearance, somewhere in the + neighborhood of sixty, and, for an elderly lady, handsome. I thought of my + remark to Constance about the beauty and deformity of age, and said to + myself, “Here is one who has not lived in vain.” + </p> + <p> + I arose as she spoke, and answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “You have come too late,” she said, with a touch of feeling in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Not dead?” I ejaculated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dead. Will you walk up stairs and see her?” + </p> + <p> + I followed in silence, ascending to the chamber which had been occupied by + Mrs. Allen since the old Captain's death. It was true as she had said; a + ghastly corpse was before me. I use the word ghastly, for it fully + expresses the ugliness of that lifeless face, withered, marred, almost + shorn of every true aspect of humanity. I laid my hand upon her—the + skin was cold. I felt for her pulse, but there was no sign of motion in + the arteries. + </p> + <p> + “It is over,” I said, lifting myself from my brief examination, “and may + God have mercy upon her soul!” The last part of the sentence was + involuntary. + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” + </p> + <p> + I felt that this response was no idle ejaculation. + </p> + <p> + “How was she affected?” I asked. “Has she been sick for any time? Or did + life go out suddenly?” + </p> + <p> + “It went out suddenly,” replied the lady—“as suddenly as a lamp in + the wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Was she excited from any cause?” + </p> + <p> + “She has been in an excited state ever since our arrival, although every + thing that lay in our power has been done to quiet her mind and give it + confidence and repose.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke calmly, as one, who held a controlling position there, and of + right. I looked into her serene face, almost classic in its outlines, with + an expression of blended inquiry and surprise, that it was evident did not + escape her observation, although she offered no explanation in regard to + herself. + </p> + <p> + I turned again to the corpse, and examined it with some care. There was + nothing in its appearance that gave me any clue to the cause which had + produced this sudden extinguishment of life. + </p> + <p> + “In what way was she excited?” I asked, looking at the stranger as I + stepped back from the couch on which the dead body was lying. + </p> + <p> + She returned my steady gaze, without answering, for some moments. Either + my tone or manner affected her unpleasantly, for I saw her brows contract + slightly, her full lips close upon themselves, and her eyes acquire an + intenser look. + </p> + <p> + “You have been her physician, I believe?” There was no sign of feeling in + the steady voice which made the inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> need not, in that case, describe to you her unhappy state of + mind. <i>I</i> need not tell you that an evil will had the mastery over + her understanding, and that, in the fierce struggle of evil passion with + evil passion, mind and body had lost their right adjustment.” + </p> + <p> + “I know all this,” said I. “Still, madam, in view of my professional duty, + I must repeat my question, and urge upon you the propriety of an + undisguised answer. In what way was she excited? and what was the cause + leading to an excitement which has ended thus fatally?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in the habit of putting on disguises,” she answered, with a + quiet dignity that really looked beautiful. + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, madam, not to misunderstand me,” said I. “As a physician, I + must report the cause of all deaths in the range of my practice. If I were + not to do so in this case, a permit for burial would not be issued until a + regular inquest was held by the Coroner.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see,” she replied, yet with an air of indecision. “You are + perfectly right, Doctor, and we must answer to your satisfaction. But let + us retire from this chamber.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way down stairs. As we passed the memorable north-west room, + she pushed the door open, and said, + </p> + <p> + “Blanche, dear, I wish to see you. Come down to the parlor.” + </p> + <p> + I heard faintly the answer, in a very musical voice. We had scarcely + entered the parlor, when the lady said— + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + A vision of beauty and innocence met my gaze. A young girl, not over + seventeen, tall like her mother, very fair, with a face just subdued into + something of womanly seriousness, stood in the door, as I turned at + mention of her presence. + </p> + <p> + A single lamp gave its feeble light to the room, only half subduing the + shadows that went creeping into corners and recesses. Something of a weird + aspect was on every thing; and I could not but gaze at the two strangers + in that strange place to them, under such peculiar circumstances, and + wonder to see them so calm, dignified, and self-possessed. We sat down by + the table on which the lamp was standing, the elder of the two opposite, + and the younger a little turned away, so that her features were nearly + concealed. + </p> + <p> + “Blanche,” said the former, “the Doctor wishes to know the particular + incidents connected with the death of Mrs. Allen.” + </p> + <p> + I thought there was an uneasy movement on the part of the girl. She did + not reply. There was a pause. + </p> + <p> + “The facts are simply these, Doctor,” and the mother looked me steadily in + the face, which stood out clear, as the lamp shone full on every feature. + “From the moment of our arrival, Mrs. Allen has seemed like one possessed + of an evil Spirit. How she conducted herself before, is known to me only + as reported by the servants. From the little they have communicated, I + infer that for some time past she has not been ii her right mind. How is + it? You must know as to her sanity or insanity.” + </p> + <p> + “She has not, in my opinion, been a truly sane woman for years,” was my + answer. + </p> + <p> + “As I just said,” she continued, “she has seemed like one possessed of an + evil spirit. In no way could we soften or conciliate her. Her conduct + resembled more nearly that of some fierce wild beast whose den was + invaded, than that of a human being. She would hold no friendly + intercourse with us, and if we met at any time, or in any part of the + house, she would fix her keen black eyes upon us, with an expression that + sent a shudder to the heart. My daughter scarcely dared venture from her + room. She so dreaded to meet her. Twice, as she flew past me, in her + restless wanderings over the house, muttering to herself, I heard her say, + as she struck her clenched hand in the air, 'I can do it again, and I + will!'” + </p> + <p> + A cold chill crept over me, for I remembered the death of Captain Allen; + and this was like a confirmation of what I had feared as to foul play. + </p> + <p> + “There is no trusting one wholly or even partially insane. So we were + always on our guard. Not once, but many times during the few nights we + have spent here, have we heard the door of our chamber tried after + midnight. It was plain to us that it was not safe to live in this way, and + so we had come to the reluctant conclusion that personal restraint must be + secured. The question as to how this could best be done we had not yet + decided, when death unraveled the difficulty.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker ceased at this part of her narrative, and lifting from the + table a small bell, rung it. A maid entered. I had never seen her before. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Jackson that I want him.” + </p> + <p> + The girl curtsied respectfully, and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was said, until a man, whom I recognized at a glance to be a + regularly trained English servant, presented himself. + </p> + <p> + “Jackson,” said the lady, “I wish you to relate exactly, what occurred + just previously to, and at the time of Mrs. Allen's death.” + </p> + <p> + The man looked bewildered for a moment or two; but soon recovering + himself, answered without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Hit 'appened just in this way, ma'am. I was a comin' hup stairs, when I + met the hold lady a tearin' down like a mad cat. She looked kind o' awful. + I never saw anybody out of an 'ospital look that way in all my life + before. She 'eld an hiron poker in 'er 'and. As my young lady—” and + he looked towards Blanche—“was in the 'all, I didn't think it safe + for 'er if I let the hold woman go down. So I just stood in 'er way, and + put my harms across the stairs so”—stretching his arms out. “My! but + 'ow she did fire up! She stood almost a minute, and then sprung on me as + if she was a tiger. But I was the strongest, and 'olding 'er in my harms + like as I would a mad kitten, I carried 'er hup to 'er room, put 'er hin, + and shut the door. My young lady saw it hall, for she followed right hup + after me.” + </p> + <p> + He looked towards Blanche. + </p> + <p> + “Just as it occurred,” she said, in a low, sweet fluttering voice. + </p> + <p> + “I heard the strife,” said her mother, “and ran up to see what was the + matter. I reached the door of Mrs. Allen's room just as Jackson thrust her + in. He did not use any more violence than was needed in a case of such + sudden emergency. He is strong, and held her so tightly that she could not + even struggle. One wild, fierce scream rent the air, as he shut the door, + and then all was silent as death. I went in to her instantly. She was on + the floor in a convulsion. You were sent for immediately; but it was too + late for human intervention. Jackson, you can go.” + </p> + <p> + The man bowed with an air of deferential respect, and retired. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” she added, turning to me, “you have the facts as they + occurred. I have no wish to give them publicity, for they are family + matters, and these are always in their degree, sacred. If, however, you + think it your duty as a physician, to make the matter one of official + investigation, I can have nothing to say.” + </p> + <p> + I thought for some minutes before answering. The story, as related by the + servant, I fully credited. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see the body again,” said I, coming at length to a conclusion. + </p> + <p> + We went up stairs, all three together; but only two of us entered the + chamber of death. As we neared the door, Blanche caught at her mother's + arm, and I heard her say, in a whisper: + </p> + <p> + “Dear mamma! spare me that sight again. It is too horrible!” + </p> + <p> + “The presence of your daughter is not needed,” said I, interposing. “Let + her retire to her own room.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” There was a grateful expression in her voice, as she uttered + these brief words, and then went back, while we passed in to the apartment + where the dead woman was still lying. + </p> + <p> + As I looked upon her face again, it seemed even more ghastly than before; + and I could hardly repress a shudder. My companion held a lamp; while I + made as careful an examination as was possible under the circumstances. I + did not expect to find any marks of violence, though I searched for them + about her head, neck, and chest. But, under the circumstances, I felt it + to be my duty to know, from actual search, that no such signs existed. In + every aspect presented by the corpse, there was a corroboration of the + story related by the serving man. It was plain, that in a fit of half + insane, uncontrollable passion, the nice adjustment of physical forces had + been lost. + </p> + <p> + “I am fully satisfied, madam,” said I, at length, turning from my + unpleasant task. + </p> + <p> + She let her calm, earnest eyes dwell on mine for a few moments, and then + answered, with a softened tone, in which there was just a perceptible + thrill of feeling— + </p> + <p> + “If I were a believer in omens, I should take this sad incident, following + so quickly on our removal to a new country and a new home, as + foreshadowing evil to me or mine. But I do not so read external events.” + </p> + <p> + “Between a life like hers, and a life like yours, madam, there can be no + possible nearness; nor any relation between your spiritual affinities and + hers. The antipodes are not farther apart,” said I, in return; “therefore, + nothing that has befallen her can be ominous as to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust not,” she gravely answered, as we left the room together. + </p> + <p> + To my inquiry if I could serve her in any way, in the present matter, she + simply requested me to send a respectable undertaker, who would perform + what was fitting in the last rites due to the dead. + </p> + <p> + I promised, and retired. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + The appearance, manner, and bearing of the two strangers impressed me + strongly. The elder had evidently moved in refined and cultivated society + all her life. There was about her the air of “a lady, born and bred”—dignified, + calm, easy, and courteous. The daughter was a lovely blossom on this + stately stem—delicate, beautiful, sweet with the odors of innocence. + I see her now as I saw her on that first night of our meeting—to my + eyes a new born vision of loveliness. + </p> + <p> + I found Constance awaiting, with curious interest, my return. I was going + right into the heart of this new wonder, and could not fail to bring back + some revelation that would satisfy, in a measure, the excitement of mind + produced by so singular an intrusion of strangers upon our quiet town. I + answered her first look of inquiry by the words:— + </p> + <p> + “It is over. Another book of life is sealed up here to be opened in + eternity.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead! Not dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Constance, Mrs. Allen is dead. Her spirit had passed away before my + arrival.” + </p> + <p> + “How did she die?—from what cause?” + </p> + <p> + “From what I can learn she died in a fit of passion.” I then related all + that I had seen and heard. + </p> + <p> + “But who can they be?” This query came as a natural sequence. “What right + have they in the Allen House?” + </p> + <p> + “Whoever they may be,” I replied, “they act, or, at least, the elder of + the two ladies acts as if her right there was not even open to a question. + And, perhaps, it is not.” + </p> + <p> + “But what can they be to the Allens?” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you,” said I, “the benefit of my guessing on the subject. You + recollect the story told about Captain Allen's mother; how she went off a + great many years ago with a stranger—an Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + Constance remembered all about this family history, for it was the romance + of our town. + </p> + <p> + “My conclusion is that this lady is the sister of Captain Allen—the + child that his mother took with her when she fled from her husband's + house. I am strengthened in this belief from the first impression of her + voice, as if the tones had in them something familiar.” + </p> + <p> + We talked this matter over, looking at it in every way, until we satisfied + ourselves that my conjectures must be true. The quiet manner in which they + had intruded themselves, and taken possession of the house—unheralded + as far as we knew—could not but present itself to our minds as a + matter of special wonder. The more we conned it over the more we were + puzzled. Before coming home I had called at an undertaker's, and notified + him that his services were wanted at the Allen House. Early on the next + day I took the liberty of calling there myself. I sent up my name, and + awaited, with some interest, my reception. The visit might be regarded as + an intrusion, and I was prepared to receive a message from the lady asking + to be excused. Not so, however. I had been seated only a few moments, when + I heard the rustle of her garments on the stairs. My first glance at her + face assured me that I was no unwelcome visitor. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, as she extended her hand, “for this early + call. Our meeting last night for the first time can hardly be called a + pleasant one—or the associations connected with it such as either of + us might wish to recall.” + </p> + <p> + “Our control over events is so slight,” I made answer as I resumed my + seat, “that we should separate unpleasant feelings as far as possible from + any memories connected with them.” + </p> + <p> + A faint, sad smile just lightened up her placid face as she said, in reply + to the remark. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Doctor, that may not be. Lives are too intimately blended here for + any one to suffer or do wrong without leaving a burden of sadness on other + memories.” + </p> + <p> + “True; but the burden will be light or heavy according to our strength.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me without replying, for the remark was so palpable, that it + seemed to involve nothing beyond a literal fact. + </p> + <p> + “Or rather,” I said, “the burden will be heavy or light according to our + state or quality.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sign of awakening interest in her countenance as if my remark + had touched some hidden spring of thought. + </p> + <p> + “If we are right with ourselves,” I went on, “the disturbance produced by + others' misconduct will not reach very far down. The pressure of sadness + may lie upon us for a season; but cannot long remain; for the pure heart + will lift itself into serene atmospheres.” + </p> + <p> + “But, who is right with himself?” she said. “Whose heart is pure enough to + dwell in these serene atmospheres? Not mine, alas!” + </p> + <p> + I looked into the suddenly illuminated face as she put these questions, in + surprise at the quick change which had passed over it. But the tone in + which she uttered the closing sentence was touched with tender sadness. + </p> + <p> + “Rather let me say,” I made answer, “<i>in the degree</i> that we are + right with ourselves. None attain unto perfection here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said the lady, with a sweet calmness of manner that made her look + beautiful, “is it not pleasant to imagine a state of perfection—or + rather a state in which evil is quiescent, and the heart active with all + good and loving impulses? How full of inspiration is such an ideal of + life! But the way by which we must go, if we would rise into this state, + is one of difficulty and perpetual warfare. The enemies of our peace are + numbered by myriads; and they seek with deadly hatred to do us harm.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet are powerless,” said I, “if we keep the outworks of our lives in + order.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, “it is the very ultimate or last things of our lives + where the power of repulsion resides. We can, in temptation, be it ever so + strong, refuse to <i>act</i> in the wrong direction—refuse to do an + evil thing, because it is sinful. And this is our bulwark; this is our + tower of safety; for it is only in <i>wrong doing</i> that our enemies + gain the victory over us. They may assault us never so fiercely—may + dazzle our eyes with the glitter of this world's most alluring things—may + stir the latent envy, malice, pride, or dishonesty, that lurks in every + heart; but if we stand still, hold back our hands and stay our feet—if + we give our resolute 'No' to all enticements, and keep our <i>actions</i> + free from evil, all hell cannot prevail against us. God will take care of + the interior of our lives, and make them pure and heavenly, if we resist + evil in the exterior. But, pardon me; I did not mean to read you a + homily.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled with a grave sort of smile, and then sat silent. + </p> + <p> + “I like your way of talking,” said I. There was something about the lady + that put me at ease with her, and I said this without reserve, as if I + were speaking to a friend. “It looks to higher things in life than people + usually regard as worthy of our chief consideration. To most of us, the + outer world offers the highest attractions; only the few turn inwardly to + the more beautiful world of mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Outward things fade—change—die; only spiritual things dwell + in unfading beauty. We are in a world of mere effects as to our bodies; + but the soul lives in the world of causes. Do we not spend a vain and + unprofitable life, then, if we go on building, day after day, our + tabernacle on the ever-shifting sands of time, instead of upon the + immovable Rock of Ages? But who is guiltless of this folly? Not I! not I!” + </p> + <p> + Again that calm, earnest voice fell to a lower key, and was veiled by a + tender sadness. + </p> + <p> + “It is something gained,” she added, with returning firmness of tone, “if, + even after the sharp lessons of many years, we get glimpses of Truth, and + are willing to follow, though it be at a far distance, the light she holds + aloft. Yes, it is something gained—something gained!” + </p> + <p> + She spoke the last words as if merely thinking aloud, and not addressing + an auditor. + </p> + <p> + “Can I aid you in anything, madam?” said I, breaking in upon a state of + reverie into which her mind seemed to be falling. “The circumstances under + which you find yourself are peculiar—I refer to the death of Mrs. + Allen, following so quickly on your arrival among strangers—and you + may stand in need of friendly service from one who knows the people and + their ways. If so, do not hesitate to command me.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you sincerely,” she answered, unbending still more from her + almost stately manner. “Friendly consideration I shall need, of course—as + who does not in this world? And I repeat my thanks, that you have so + kindly and so promptly anticipated my needs So far as the remains of my + unhappy kinswoman are concerned, I have referred all to the undertaker. He + will carry out my wishes. To-morrow the interment will take place. On the + day following, if it it is altogether agreeable to yourself, I would + esteem a call as a particular favor.” + </p> + <p> + I arose, as she concluded the last sentence, saying as I did so, + </p> + <p> + “I will be sure to call, madam; and render any service in my power. You + may regard me as a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Already you have extorted my confidence,” she answered, faintly smiling. + </p> + <p> + I bowed low, and was retiring when she said— + </p> + <p> + “A moment, Doctor!” + </p> + <p> + I turned toward her again. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, it may be well for you to see my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she indisposed?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly that. But the excitement and alarm of the last two or three + days have been, I fear, rather too much for her nerves. I say alarm, for + the poor girl was really frightened at Mrs. Allen's wild conduct—and + no wonder. Death following in so sad a way, shocked her painfully. She did + not sleep well last night; and this morning she looks pale and drooping. + In all probability, quiet of mind and body will soon adjust the balance of + health; still, it may be safest for you to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “A mere temporary disturbance, no doubt, which, as you suggest, quiet of + mind and body will, in all probability, overcome. Yet it will do no harm + for me to see her; and may save trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me a moment,” she said, and left the room. In a little while she + returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs. + </p> + <p> + I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a lounge. + She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face, which + subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary looking. After + we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in the palm, but cold + at the extremities. Her pulse was feeble, disturbed, and quick. + </p> + <p> + “How is your head?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “It feels a little strangely,” she replied, moving it two or three times, + as if to get some well defined sensation. + </p> + <p> + “Any pain?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep into my + head.” + </p> + <p> + “What general bodily sensation have you? Any that you can speak of + definitely?” + </p> + <p> + “None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness. When I raise my arm, it + seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and wish to be at + rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now,” said I. + Then addressing her mother, I added—“I think your daughter had + better lie down. Let her room be shaded and kept quiet. She needs rest and + sleep. Sleep is one of nature's great restorers.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you make no prescription, Doctor?” the mother asked. + </p> + <p> + I reflected on the symptoms exhibited, for a few moments, and then said, + </p> + <p> + “Nothing beyond repose, now. I trust that nature, as the pressure is + removed, will work all right again.” + </p> + <p> + “You will call in again to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; towards evening I will see your daughter, when I hope to find her + improved in every way.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke with a cheerfulness of manner that did not altogether express my + feelings in the case; for, there were some indications, not yet clear + enough for a diagnosis, that awakened slight concern. As I did not wish to + go wrong in my first prescription, I deemed it better to wait a few hours, + and see how nature would succeed in her efforts to repel the enemy. So I + went away, with a promise to call again early in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + It was between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, when I called again + at the Allen House. An old colored servant, who had been in the family + ever since my remembrance—she went by the name of “Aunty”—was + standing by the gate as I alighted from my chaise. + </p> + <p> + “'Deed, massa, Ise glad you come,” said she in a troubled way. + </p> + <p> + “Why so, Aunty? No body very sick, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “'Deed, an dar is den; else old Aunty don't know nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why dat blessed young lady what drapped in among us, as if she'd come + right down from Heaven. I was jest a gwine to run down an' ax you to come + and see her right away.” + </p> + <p> + I did not linger to talk with “Aunty,” but went forward to the house. The + mother of Blanche met me at the door. She looked very anxious. + </p> + <p> + “How is your daughter now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not so well as when you saw her this morning,” she answered. Her voice + trembled. + </p> + <p> + “I would have called earlier, but have been visiting a patient several + miles away.” + </p> + <p> + “She has been lying in a kind of stupor ever since you were here. What can + it mean, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + The mother looked intently in my face, and paused for an answer, with her + lips apart. But I knew as little as she what it meant. Ah! how often do + anxious friends question us, and hearken eagerly for our replies, when the + signs of disease are yet too indefinite for any clear diagnosis! + </p> + <p> + “I can tell better after seeing your daughter,” said I. And we went up to + the sick girl's chamber; that north-west room, at the window of which I + had first seen the fair stranger, as I stood wondering in storm and + darkness. I found her lying in apparent sleep, and breathing heavily. Her + face was flushed; and I noticed the peculiar odor that usually accompanies + an eruptive fever. + </p> + <p> + “How do you feel now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She had opened her eyes as I took her hand. She did not answer, but looked + at me in a half bewildered way. Her skin was hot and the pulse small, but + tense and corded. + </p> + <p> + “Does your head ache?” + </p> + <p> + I wished to arouse her to external consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + She recognized me and smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + “How are you now?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Not so well, I think, Doctor,” she answered. “My head aches worse than it + did; and I feel sick all over. I don't know what can ail me.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any uneasiness, or sense of oppression in the stomach?” I + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, Doctor.” She laid her hand upon her chest; and drew in a long + breath, as if trying to get relief. + </p> + <p> + “Have you felt as well as usual for a week, or ten days past?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No, Doctor.” It was the mother who answered my question. “And in order + that you may understand the case clearly, let me say, that it is only a + week since we arrived from England. We came over in a steamer, and were + fifteen days in making the trip. From Boston, we came here in our own + carriage. Before leaving home, Blanche went around to see a number of poor + cottagers in our neighbourhood, and there was sickness at several of the + places where she called. In one cottage, particularly, was a case of low + fever. I was troubled when I learned that she had been there, but still + hoped that her excellent state of health would repel anything like + contagion. During the first part of our voyage, she suffered considerably + from sea-sickness; but got along very well after that. If it hadn't been + for the unhappy scenes of the last few days, with their painfully exciting + consummation, I think she would have thrown off, wholly, any lurking + tendency to disease.” + </p> + <p> + I turned my face partly aside, so that its expression could not be seen. + The facts stated, and the symptoms as now presented, left me in little + doubt as to the nature of the malady against which I had to contend. Even + while her mother talked, my patient fell away into the stupor from which I + had aroused her. + </p> + <p> + My treatment of the case coincided with the practice of men eminent in the + school of medicine to which I then belonged. I am not a disciple of that + school now, having found a system of exacter science, and one compassing + more certain results with smaller risk and less waste of physical energy. + </p> + <p> + In order to remove the uneasiness of which my patient complained, I gave + an emetic. Its action was salutary, causing a determination towards the + skin, and opening the pores, as well as relieving the oppression from + which she suffered. + </p> + <p> + “How is your head now?” I asked, after she had been quiet for some + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Better. I feel scarcely any pain.” + </p> + <p> + “So far, all is right,” said I, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + The mother looked at me with an anxious face. I arose, and we retired from + the room together. Before leaving, I spoke encouragingly to my patient, + and promised to see her early in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter is very sick, Doctor. What is the disease?” The mother spoke + calmly and firmly. “I am not one towards whom any concealments need be + practised; and it is meet that I should know the worst, that I may do the + best.” + </p> + <p> + “The disease, madam,” I replied, “has not yet put on all of its + distinctive signs. A fever—we call it the fever of incubation—is + the forerunner of several very different ailments, and, at the beginning, + the most accurate eye may fail to see what is beyond. In the present case, + however, I think that typhoid fever is indicated.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke as evenly as possible, and with as little apparent concern as + possible. But I saw the blood go instantly back from the mother's face. + </p> + <p> + “Typhoid fever!” she ejaculated, in a low voice, clasping her hands + together. I learned afterwards that she had cause to dread this exhausting + and often fatal disease. “Oh, Doctor! do for her as if she were your own + and only child.” + </p> + <p> + She grasped my arm, like one catching at a fleeting hope. + </p> + <p> + “As if she were my own and only child!” I repeated her words in promise + and assurance, adding— + </p> + <p> + “The first result of the medicine which I gave is just what I desired. I + will leave something more to be taken at intervals of two hours, until + midnight. In the morning, I hope to find a very encouraging change.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Doctor,” she replied, “if this is a case of typhoid fever, no hope + of any quick change for the better can be entertained. I am no stranger to + the fearful malady.” + </p> + <p> + “Attacks of all diseases,” I answered to this, “are more or less severe, + according to the nature of the predisposing and exciting causes. So far as + your daughter is concerned, I should think, from the very slight + opportunity I have had of forming an opinion in regard to her, that she is + not readily susceptible of morbific intrusions. Under an unusual exposure + to exciting causes, the balance of health has been overcome. If my + presumption is correct, we have the steady effort of nature, in + co-operation with remedial agencies, working towards a cure.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think the attack light, or severe?” the mother asked, speaking + more calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Neither light nor severe; but of a character, judging from the first + impression made upon it, entirely controllable by medicines.” + </p> + <p> + This opinion gave her confidence. As I had spoken without any apparent + concealment, she evidently believed the case to stand exactly as I had + stated it. After leaving medicine to be taken, every two hours, for the + first part of the night, I went away. + </p> + <p> + In the morning, I found my patient in that comatose state, the usual + attendant upon typhoid fever. She aroused herself on my entrance, and + answered all questions clearly. She had no pain in the head, nor any + distressing symptoms. Her skin was soft and moist. All things looked + favorable. I gave, now, only gentle diaphoretics, and let the case + progress, watching it with the closest attention. In this, I followed my + usual course of treatment as to giving medicines. If I could produce a + reaction, or remove some obstruction, and give nature a chance, I did not + think it wise to keep on with drugs, which, from their general poisonous + qualities, make even well people sick—regarding the struggle of life + with disease as hazardous enough, without increasing the risk by adding a + new cause of disturbance, unless the need of its presence were + unmistakably indicated. + </p> + <p> + The course of this fever is always slow and exhausting. My patient sunk + steadily, day by day, while I continued to watch the case with more than + common anxiety. At the end of a week, she was feeble as an infant, and + lay, for the most part, in a state of coma. I visited her two or three + times every day, and had the thought of her almost constantly in my mind. + Her mother, nerved for the occasion, was calm, patient, and untiring. The + excitement which appeared on the occasion of my first visits, when there + was doubt as to the character of the disease, passed away, and never + showed itself again during her daughter's illness. I saw, daily, deeper + into her character, which more and more impressed me with its simple + grandeur, if I may use the word in this connection. There was nothing + trifling, mean, or unwomanly about her. Her mind seemed to rest with a + profoundly rational, and at the same time child-like trust, in Providence. + Fear did not unnerve her, nor anxiety stay her hands in any thing. She met + me, at every visit, with dignified self-possession, and received my report + of the case, each time, without visible emotion. I had not attempted to + deceive her in any thing from the beginning; she had seen this, and the + fact gave her confidence in all my statements touching her daughter's + condition. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a week, I commenced giving stimulants, selecting, as the + chief article, sound old Maderia wine. The effect was soon apparent, in a + firmer pulse and a quickened vitality. The lethargic condition in which + she had lain for most of the time since the commencement of the attack, + began to give way, and in a much shorter period than is usually the case, + in this disease, we had the unmistakable signs of convalescence. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, who, by means of your skill, has given me back my precious + child!” said the mother to me, one day, after Blanche was able to sit up + in bed. She took my hand and grasped it tightly. I saw that she was deeply + moved. I merely answered: + </p> + <p> + “With Him are the issues of life.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have tried to leave all with Him,” she said. “To be willing to + suffer even that loss, the bare thought of which makes me shudder. But I + am not equal to the trial, and in mercy He has spared me.” + </p> + <p> + “He is full of compassion, and gracious. He knows our strength, and will + not test it beyond the limits of endurance.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” she said, a light coming into her face, “I have much to say to + you, but not now. I think you can understand me.” + </p> + <p> + I merely bowed. + </p> + <p> + “There is one thing,” she went on, “that I have liked in you from the + beginning. I am to you a total stranger, and my presence in this house is + a fact that must awaken many questions in your mind. Yet you have shown no + restless curiosity, have plied me with no leading questions, have left me + free to speak, or keep silence. There is a manly courtesy about this that + accords with my feelings.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed again, but did not venture upon mere words of compliment. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” said she, “that my name even is known to you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not,” I answered. “You have seemed to avoid any allusion thereto, + and delicacy forbade my asking.” + </p> + <p> + “There has been no purposed concealment. My name is Montgomery; and I am + sister to the late Captain Allen.” + </p> + <p> + “I had already inferred this relationship.” The remark evidently surprised + her. + </p> + <p> + “On what ground could you base such an inference?” she asked, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “On traditional ground. The history of this old mansion is familiar to + most persons in S——; and some of the incidents connected with + the family have too strong a tinge of romance about them to easily pass + into oblivion. It is well known to us that Captain Allen had an only + sister.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it said became of her?” + </p> + <p> + “When she was about two years of age her mother carried her off, sailing, + as was believed, to England, of which country she was a native.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the name of the child preserved in this tradition?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It was Flora.” + </p> + <p> + “My own name,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And in person you are identical.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. My mother's early life embraced some dreadful experiences. Her + father and mother, with two brothers and a younger sister, were all + murdered by pirates. She alone was spared, and afterwards became the wife + of a sea captain, who, I fear, was not a man innocent of blood. On this + point, however, my mother was reserved, almost silent. In the course of + time she grew so wretched, as the wife of this man, that she sent a letter + to England, addressed to some remembered relative, imploring him to save + her from a life that was worse than death. This letter fell into the right + hands. A cousin was sent out from England, and she fled with him. No + attempt, as far as we know, was ever made to follow and regain her She did + not live many years afterwards. I grew up among my relatives, ignorant of + her history. My memory of her is distinct, though she died when I was but + eight years old. + </p> + <p> + “I married, at the age of twenty-six, an officer in the British army, one + of the younger sons in a titled family, for whom no way in the world is + opened, except through the church or the battle-field. General Montgomery + chose the profession of a soldier, not from a love of its exciting and + fearful concomitants, but because he had no fancy for the gown and + cassock, and could not be a hypocrite in religion. He went quite early to + British India, and distinguished himself there by many acts of bravery, as + well as by his humane and honorable conduct. So highly was he regarded by + the East India Company, that he was selected for most important services, + and assigned to posts of great responsibility. He was past thirty years of + age when I met him, on the occasion of one of his visits to England. The + attraction was mutual; and when he returned to Calcutta, I went with him + as his wife. Then came twenty years of a happy married life;—happy, + I mean, so far as a perfect union of souls can make us happy in this + world, but miserable, at times, through intense anxiety for the absent one + exposed to fearful perils. + </p> + <p> + “We had three children.” There was a tremor in the voice of Mrs. + Montgomery as she referred to her children. “One only remains.” She + paused, as if to recover herself, and then went on. + </p> + <p> + “I lost my husband first. Ten years ago, he fell at the post of duty, and, + while my heart lay crushed and bleeding under the terrible blow, it leaped + with throbbings of pride, as his honored name went sounding from lip to + lip, and from land to land. I had not the sad pleasure of being with him + in that last time. For the sake of our children, I was residing in + England. + </p> + <p> + “Troubles rarely come alone. Two years afterwards my oldest son died. My + home was in the family of General Montgomery, where I was treated with + great kindness; but as my income was not sufficient for an establishment + of my own, I felt a sense of obligation that is always oppressive to one + of my nature. This feeling grew upon me daily, and at last began to haunt + me like a constantly re-appearing spectre. It is now about three years + since, in looking over some old letters and papers, I came unexpectedly + upon a document written by my mother—all the evidence as to this was + clear—and addressed to myself. How it should have remained so long + unobserved, and yet in my possession, is one of the mysterious things + which I do not attempt to explain. There is a Providence in all things, + even to the most minute, and I simply refer the fact to Providence, and + leave it there. This document spoke briefly, but with no special + particularity, of her marriage with a Captain Allen, and settlement in + this town. It stated that she had two children, a son and a daughter, and + that in leaving America for England, she had taken her daughter, but left + the son behind. There was no suggestion as to the use to be made of these + facts; but there was such a statement of them as left their verification, + I thought, easy. I turned them over and over in my mind, and in the end + resolved to gain all accessible information touching the present condition + of things. To this end, I sent over about two years ago, a man of prudence + and intelligence, versed in legal matters, with instructions to obtain all + possible particulars in regard to my brother, his family and estate. He + brought back word that my brother was dead; that he had left no children, + and that his widow—if, indeed, she were ever his legal wife, which + seemed to be doubted—was old, in poor health, and verging towards + mental imbecility, if not insanity. That there was a large and valuable + estate, to which I, as sister of Captain Allen, was undoubtedly the heir. + </p> + <p> + “I kept these things, for the time being, to myself, and pondered over + them in some perplexity as to the best course to take. But from these + thoughts, my mind was soon turned by the illness of my oldest daughter. + After a lingering sickness of many weeks, she died. It seemed almost + impossible to arouse myself from the stunning effects of this blow. It + crushed me down more than any previous sorrow, for it fell upon a heart + weakened by pain. It was many months before the discipline of this + affliction awakened me to thoughts of a higher life. Then I began to rise + into serener heights—to see as by an interior vision, to believe + that even our saddest things may fall upon us in mercy. + </p> + <p> + “Finally, circumstances of which I need not speak, made me resolve to + leave England, and under legal advice of the highest authority, take quiet + possession of this estate, which is mine.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Montgomery ceased speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she resumed, after a moment, “it may be as well, all things + considered, that you do not speak of this for the present. I shall, as + soon as my daughter's full recovery gives me time to enter into the + subject, place my affairs in the hands of a safe legal agent, in order + that they may assume due form and order. You can, no doubt, refer me to + the right individual.” + </p> + <p> + “I can,” was my reply. “Judge Bigelow, of our town, is the man. I speak of + him with the utmost confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Doctor. You lay me under additional obligation,” she said. “I + will, at an early day consult him.” + </p> + <p> + Thus closed this deeply interesting interview. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + I attended Blanche Montgomery through her slow convalescence, and had many + opportunities for observing her and her mother closely. The more + intimately I knew them the higher did they rise in my estimation. A purer, + sweeter, truer-hearted girl than Blanche I had never seen. There was an + artlessness and innocence about her but rarely met with in young ladies of + her age. Especially was she free from that worldliness and levity which so + often mars young maidenhood. Her mind was well stored and cultivated, and + she was beginning to use her mental treasures in a way that interested + you, and made you listen with pleased attention when she spoke on even + common-place subjects. Her manners had in them a grace and dignity that + was very attractive. As she advanced towards health her deportment took on + an easy, confiding air, as if she looked upon me as a true friend. Her + smile, whenever I appeared, broke over her gentle face like a gleam of + sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Montgomery's manner towards me was distinguished by the same + frankness that marked her daughter's deportment. The stately air that + struck me in the beginning I no longer observed. If it existed, my eyes + saw it differently. At her request, when her mind was sufficiently at ease + about her daughter to busy itself with the common affairs of life, I + brought Judge Bigelow to see her, and she placed her business matters in + his hands. The judge was very much struck with her person and manner, and + told me the day after his first meeting with her that she came nearer to + his ideal of a lady than any woman he had ever met; and as for the + daughter she seemed more like a picture he had once seen than a piece of + real flesh and blood. I smiled at the Judge's enthusiasm, but did not + wonder at the impression he had received. + </p> + <p> + Other characters in our story now claim attention, and we must turn to + them. After Henry Wallingford had gained the mastery over himself:—the + struggle was wild, but brief—he resumed his office duties as usual, + and few noticed any change in him, except that he withdrew even more than + ever into himself. I met him occasionally, and observed him closely. In my + eyes there was a marked difference in the aspect of his face. It had an + expression of patient suffering at times—and again I saw in it a + most touching sadness. + </p> + <p> + The dashing nephew of Judge Bigelow offered himself to Squire Floyd's + daughter in about a week after her rejection of Wallingford's suit, and + was accepted. I became immediately cognizant of the fact through my wife, + who had the news from Delia's aunt, Mrs. Dean. A day or two afterwards I + met her in company with young Dewey, and observed her closely. Alas! In my + eyes the work of moral retrocession had already begun. She was gay and + chatty, and her countenance fresh and blooming. But I missed something—something + the absence of which awakened a sigh of regret. Ralph was very lover-like + in his deportment, fluttering about Delia, complimenting her, and showing + her many obtrusive attentions. But eyes that were in the habit of looking + below the surface of things, saw no heart in it all. + </p> + <p> + Squire Floyd was delighted with his daughter's fine prospects; and he and + Judge Bigelow drew their heads together over the affair in a cosy and + confidential way very pleasant to both of them. The Judge was eloquent + touching his nephew's fine qualities and splendid prospects; and + congratulated the Squire, time and again, on his daughter's fortunate + matrimonial speculation. He used the word which was significative beyond + any thing that entered his imagination. + </p> + <p> + A few days after the engagement Ralph Dewey returned to New York. The + wedding-day had not been fixed; but the marriage, as understood by all + parties, was to take place some time during the next winter. + </p> + <p> + From that time I noticed a change in Delia. She grew silent in company, + and had an absent way about her that contrasted strongly with her former + social disposition. Young people rallied her in the usual style about her + heart being absent with the beloved one, but I read the signs differently. + It could not but follow, that a soul, endowed like hers, would have + misgivings in view of an alliance with one like Ralph Dewey. What was + there in him to satisfy a true woman's yearnings for conjunction with a + kindred nature? Nothing! He was all outside as to good. A mere selfish, + superficial, speculating man of the world. While she had a heart capable + of the deepest and truest affection. Would he make the fitting complement + to her life? Alas! No! That were a thing impossible. + </p> + <p> + During the few months that preceded this marriage, I often heard its + promise discussed by my wife and Mrs. Dean, neither of whom had any strong + liking for the young New York merchant. + </p> + <p> + “It's my opinion,” said Mrs. Dean, as she sat with my wife one evening, + about two months after the engagement had taken place, “that Ralph has + more froth than substance about him. He really talks, sometimes, as if he + had the world in a sling and could toss it up among the stars. As far as + my observation goes, such people flourish only for a season.” + </p> + <p> + “If Delia were a child of mine,” said my good Constance, in her earnest + way, “I would a thousand times rather trust her with Henry Wallingford + than with Ralph Dewey.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and a thousand millions of times,” responded Mrs. Dean. “He is a + man. You know just what he is, and where he is. But, as for this splashing + nephew of Judge Bigelow's—who knows what's below the surface? + Delia's father is all taken up with him, and thinks the match a splendid + one. Sister don't say much; but I can see that she has her misgivings. I + can talk to you freely, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think,” said I, “that Delia has grown more cheerful since her + engagement. Brides expectant ought to feel as happy as the day is long.” + </p> + <p> + “More cheerful? Oh, dear, no! She isn't the same that she was at all; but + mopes about more than half of her time. It's just my opinion—spoken + between friends—that she cares, now, a great deal more for Henry + than she does for Ralph.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they ever meet?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Not very often.” + </p> + <p> + “They have met?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, several times.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen them together?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How does she act towards him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not always the same. Sometimes she is talkative, and sometimes reserved—sometimes + as gay as a lark, and sometimes sober enough; as if there were such a + weight on her spirits, that she could not smile without an effort.” + </p> + <p> + “Does the fact of his presence make any change in her?” I inquired. “What + I mean is, if she were lively in spirits before he came in, would she grow + serious—or if serious, grow excited?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, it always makes a change. I've known her, after being very + quiet, and hardly having any thing to say, though in the midst of young + company, grow all at once as merry as a cricket, and laugh and joke in a + wild sort of way. And again, when she has been in one of her old, pleasant + states of mind I have noticed that she all at once drew back into herself; + I could trace the cause to only this—the presence of Henry + Wallingford. But this doesn't often happen, for he rarely shows himself in + company.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything noticeable about Henry when they meet?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not to an ordinary observer,” replied Mrs. Dean. “But I look with sharper + eyes than most people. Yes, there is something noticeable. He always puts + himself in her way, but with a kind of forced, resolute manner, as if the + act were a trial of strength, and involved a stern heart-discipline. And + this I think, is just the real state of the case. He has deliberately and + resolutely entered upon the work of unwinding from his heart the cord + which love his thrown around it in so many intertwisted folds. So I read + him. To break it by sudden force, would leave so many unwound portions + behind, that the memory of her might sadden the whole of his after-life. + And so he is learning to grow indifferent towards her. To search in her + for such things as repel, instead of for those that charm the heart.” + </p> + <p> + “A dangerous experiment,” said my wife, “for one who has loved so deeply.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be to most men,” I remarked. “But there is stuff about Henry—the + stuff that strong, persistent, successful men are made of. If he has begun + this work, he will complete it certainly.” + </p> + <p> + A few weeks afterwards, I had an opportunity of seeing them together, and + I improved it to observe them closely. It was in a mixed company at the + house of Judge Bigelow. Wallingford came in rather late. I was conversing + with Delia when he entered the room, and we were at an interesting point + in the subject under consideration. I noticed, all at once, a hesitation + and confusion of thought, as her eyes rested, with a sudden interest, on + some object in the room. Glancing around, I saw the young man. We went on + with our conversation, Delia rallying herself, as I could see, with an + effort. But she talked no longer from thought, only from memory—uttering + mere truisms and common-places. She put on more animation, and affected a + deeper interest; but I was not deceived. + </p> + <p> + We were still in conversation, when Wallingford joined us. I saw him fix + his eyes, as they met, searchingly upon her face, and saw her eyes droop + away from his. He was fully self-possessed; she not at ease. His mind was + clear; hers in some confusion. I remained some time near them, listening + to their conversation, and joining in occasionally. Never before had I + seen him appear so well, nor her to such poor advantage. She tried to act + a part—he was himself. I noticed, as he led the conversation, that + he kept away from the esthetic, and held her thought in the region of + moral causes; that he dwelt on the ends and purposes of life, as involving + everything. Now and then she essayed a feeble argument, or met some of his + propositions with light banter. But with a word he obliterated the sophism—and + with a glance repressed the badinage. I think she could never before have + so felt the superiority of this man, whose pure love—almost worship—she + had put aside as a thing of light importance; and I think the interview + helped him in the work upon which he had entered, that of obliterating + from his heart all traces of her image. + </p> + <p> + After this interview, they did not draw together again during the evening. + Delia tried to be gay and indifferent; but he acted himself out just as he + was. I did not observe that he was more social than usual, or that he + mingled more than was his wont with the young ladies present. For most of + the time, he kept, as was usual with him, in company and in conversation + with his own sex. + </p> + <p> + I could not but pity Delia Floyd. It was plain to me that she was waking + up to the sad error she had committed—an error, the consequences of + which would go with her through life. Very, very far was she from being + indifferent to Wallingford—that I could plainly see. + </p> + <p> + During the winter, Ralph came up frequently from New York to visit his + bride to be. As he was the nephew of Judge Bigelow, he and Wallingford + were, as a thing of course, thrown often together during these visits. It + can hardly excite wonder, that Wallingford maintained a reserved and + distant demeanor towards the young man, steadily repelling all + familiarity, yet always treating him with such politeness and respect that + no cause of offence could appear. On the part of Dewey, it may be said + that he saw little in the grave plodder among dusty law books and + discolored parchments, that won upon his regard. He looked upon him as a + young man good enough in his way—a very small way, in his estimation—good + enough for S——, and small enough for a country town lawyer. He + would have put on towards him a patronizing air, and tried to excite in + his mind a nobler ambition than to move in our circumscribed sphere, if + something in the young man's steady, penetrating, half-mysterious eye had + not always held him back: + </p> + <p> + “I never can talk with that young associate or yours, uncle,” he would + say, now and then, to Judge Bigelow, “and I can't just make him out. Is he + stupid, or queer?” + </p> + <p> + The Judge would smile, or laugh quietly to himself, or perhaps answer in + this wise: + </p> + <p> + “I think Henry understands himself. Still waters, you know, run deep.” + </p> + <p> + One day in February, on the occasion of a periodical visit to S——, + young Dewey called in at Judge Bigelow's office, and finding Wallingford + alone, sat down and entered into as familiar a talk with him as was + possible, considering how little they had in common. Ralph had a purpose + in view, and as soon as he saw, or thought he saw, Wallingford's mind in + the right mood, said— + </p> + <p> + “I am going to ask a particular favor, and you must not refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “If I can serve you in any thing, it will be my pleasure to do so,” was + the ready answer. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I am to be married next month?” + </p> + <p> + “So I have heard,” replied Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “You will stand my groomsman? Don't say no!” + </p> + <p> + He had seen an instant negative in the young man's face. + </p> + <p> + “Almost any thing else, but not that!” replied Henry, speaking with some + feeling. He was thrown off his guard by so unexpected a request. + </p> + <p> + “Come now, my good friend, don't take the matter so much to heart!” said + Dewey, in a light way. “Plenty of good fish in the sea yet—as good + as ever were caught. You must forgive the girl for liking me the best.” + </p> + <p> + “You jest on a grave subject,” said Wallingford, his face growing pale, + but his eyes, a little dilated, riveting his companion's where he stood. + </p> + <p> + “No, I am in earnest,” said Dewey, with something in his manner that was + offensive. + </p> + <p> + “Jest or earnest, your familiarity is out of place with me,” retorted + Wallingford, with a sternness of manner, that quickened the flow of bad + blood in Dewey's heart. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you needn't take on airs!” replied the other with a sneer of + contempt. Then muttering to himself, yet loud enough to be heard,—“I + didn't suppose the puppy would growl at a familiar pat on the head.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much for Wallingford. At another time, he might have borne it + with a manly self-possession. But only an hour before he had met Miss + Floyd in the street, and the look she then gave him had stirred his heart, + and left a tinge of shadowy regret on his feelings. He was, therefore, in + no mood to bear trifling, much less insult. Scarcely had the offensive + words passed Dewey's lips, when a blow in the face staggered him back + against the wall. Instantly recovering himself, he sprang towards + Wallingford in blind rage, and struck at him with a savage energy; but the + latter stepped aside, and let his assailant come, with stunning force, + against the wall at the other side of the office, when he fell to the + floor. + </p> + <p> + At this instant, Judge Bigelow came in. + </p> + <p> + “Henry! Ralph!” he exclaimed—“what is the meaning of this?” + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew insulted me, and in the heat of anger I struck him in the + face. In attempting to return that blow, he missed his aim, and fell + against the wall, as you see.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford spoke without excitement, but in a stern, resolute way. By + this time, Dewey was on his feet again. The sight of his uncle, and the + unflinching aspect of the person he had ventured to insult, had the effect + to cool off his excitement many degrees. + </p> + <p> + “What is the meaning of this, young men?” sternly repeated Judge Bigelow, + looking from one to the other. + </p> + <p> + “I have answered your question as far as I am concerned,” replied Henry. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph! Speak! Did you offer him an insult?” + </p> + <p> + To this demand, the nephew replied, with no abatement of his originally + offensive manner— + </p> + <p> + “If he chooses to consider my words as an insult, let him do so. I shall + in no case take them back.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + There was an imperative force in the Judge's manner. + </p> + <p> + Dewey was silent. + </p> + <p> + “What did he say,”—Judge Bigelow turned to Wallingford, “that you + should answer it with a blow?” + </p> + <p> + “If he is satisfied with the answer,” replied the latter, “the case can + rest where it is. If not, I am ready to meet him on any appeal. I He will + find me no trifler.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge turned again to his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph! I insist upon having this matter explained. I know Henry too well + to believe that he would strike you, unless there had been strong + provocation.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he regarded it as such; I did not,” said Dewey. + </p> + <p> + “If he is satisfied with his chastisement, there is no occasion to press + him farther, Judge.” Wallingford was provoked to this by the young man's + cool impertinence. + </p> + <p> + Dewey made a movement as if about to rush upon Wallingford, but the Judge + interposed his body to keep them apart. The appearance of a fourth party + at this juncture, in the person of Squire Floyd, the prospective + father-in-law of one of the belligerents, changed materially the aspect of + affairs. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Squire,” said Wallingford, with a quickly assumed + cheerfulness of manner, smiling in his usual grave way. + </p> + <p> + Both the Judge and his nephew saw reason to imitate the example of + Wallingford, and thus throw up a blind before the eyes of Squire Floyd, + who thought he perceived something wrong as he came in, but was afterwards + inclined to doubt the evidence of his senses. + </p> + <p> + Wallingford retired in a few moments. When he came back to the office an + hour afterwards, he found a note of apology on his table, accompanied by a + request that so unpleasant an incident as the one which had just occurred, + might be suffered to pass into oblivion. No acknowledgment of this + communication was made by the young lawyer. He felt the strongest kind of + repugnance towards Dewey, and could not gain his own consent to have any + intercourse with him. His position, as an associate with Judge Bigelow, + occasionally brought him in contact with his nephew, who recognized him + always in a respectful manner. But Wallingford held him ever coldly at a + distance. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + The marriage of Delia Floyd was an event in our quiet town. It was + celebrated at the house of her father, in the presence of a large company, + who were invited to witness the ceremony, and take part in the attendant + festivities. The match was regarded generally as a most desirable one for + the young lady; and there was more than one mother present who envied the + good fortune which had given such a son-in-law to Mrs. Floyd. I heard many + snatches of conversation, half aside, in which marvelous things were + related, or suggested, touching the bridegroom's fortune and the splendid + home he had prepared for his bride. He was looked upon as a prospective + millionaire, and imagination pictured Delia as the jeweled mistress of a + palace home. Few seemed to think of any thing beyond the promised worldly + advantage. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad that your daughter has married so well.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me congratulate you, Squire Floyd, on this splendid match.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not often, Mrs. Floyd, that a mother sees her daughter go forth + into the world with such brilliant prospects.” + </p> + <p> + “You have all that your heart can desire, so far as Delia is concerned, + Mrs. Floyd.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the envy of mothers.” + </p> + <p> + And so I heard the changes rung on all sides of me, and from the lips of + people who might have looked deeper if they had taken the trouble to use + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + To me, the wedding was full of sad suggestions. It was one of those social + self-sacrifices, as common now as then, in which the victim goes + self-impelled to the altar, and lays upon its consuming fires the richest + dower of womanhood. + </p> + <p> + I listened to the vows that were made on this occasion, and felt a low + thrill of repulsion as words of such solemn import trembled on the air, + for too well I knew that a union of souls in a true marriage, such as + Delia Floyd might consummate, was impossible here. Could she be happy in + this marriage? I gave to my own question an emphatic “No!” She might have + a gay, brilliant, exciting life; but to that deep peace which is given to + loving hearts, and which, in hours of isolation and loneliness, she would + desire with an irrepressible longing, she must forever be a stranger. + </p> + <p> + I looked into her beautiful young face as she stood receiving the + congratulations of friends, and felt as I had never felt before on such an + occasion. Instinctively my thought ran questioning along the future. But + no hopeful answer was returned. How was she to advance in that inner-life + development through which the true woman is perfected? I pushed the + question aside. It was too painful. Had she been one of the great company + of almost soulless women—if I may use such strong language—who + pass, yearly, through legal forms into the mere semblance of a marriage, I + might have looked on with indifference, for then, the realization would, + in all probability, be equal to the promise. But Delia Floyd was of a + different spiritual organization. She had higher capabilities and nobler + aspirations; and if the one found no true sphere of development, while the + other was doomed to beat its wings vainly amid the lower atmospheres of + life, was happiness in the case even a possibility? + </p> + <p> + Among the guests was Wallingford. It was six months, almost to a day, + since the dearest hope in life he had ever cherished went suddenly out, + and left him, for a season, in the darkness of despair. I did not expect + to see him on this occasion; and there was another, I think, who as little + anticipated his presence—I mean the bride. But he had shared in the + invitations, and came up to witness the sacrifice. To see, what a few + months before was to him the most precious thing in life, pass into the + full possession of another. Had not the fine gold grown dim in his eyes? + It had—dim with the tarnish that better natures receive when they + consent to dwell with inferior spirits, and breathe in an atmosphere + loaded with earthly exhalations. It would have been the highest delight of + his life to have ascended with her into the pure regions, where thought + builds tabernacles and establishes its dwelling-places. To have walked + onward, side by side, in a dear life companionship, towards the goal of + eternal spiritual oneness. But she had willed it otherwise; and now he had + come, resolutely, to bear the pain of a final sundering of all bonds, that + his soul might free itself from her soul completely and forever. + </p> + <p> + I first noticed him as the bridal party entered the room, and took their + places in front of the clergyman who was to officiate on the occasion. He + occupied a position that gave him a clear view of Delia's face, while he + was removed from general observation. Almost from the commencement to the + ending of the ceremony his gaze rested on her countenance. His head was + thrown a little forward, his brows slightly contracted, his lips firmly + set, and his eyes fixed as if the object upon which he was gazing held him + by an irresistible fascination. I was so much interested in him that I + scarcely looked at the bride during the ceremony. At last, the minister, + in conclusion, announced the twain to be husband and wife. I saw + Wallingford give a slight start as if a tensely strung chord of feeling + had been jarred. A moment more and the spell was broken! Every lineament + of his countenance showed this. The stern aspect gave way—light + trembled over the softening features—the body stood more erect as if + a great pressure had been removed. + </p> + <p> + I noticed that he did not hold back in the excitement of congratulation + that followed the ceremony. I was near him when he took the hand of Delia, + and heard him say—not—“I congratulate you”—but “May your + life be a happy one.” The tone was earnest and feeling, such as a brother + might use to a beloved sister. I held that tone long afterwards in my + memory, studying its signification. It had in it nothing of regret, or + pain, or sadness, as if he were losing something, but simply expressed the + regard and tender interest of a sincere well wisher. And so that great + trial was at an end for him. He had struggled manfully with a great enemy + to his peace, and this was his hour of triumph. + </p> + <p> + With the bride's state of mind, as read in external signs, I was far from + being satisfied. Marriage, in any case, to one who thinks and feels, is a + thing of serious import; and even the habitually thoughtless can hardly + take its solemn vows upon their lips without falling into a sober mood. We + are, therefore, not surprised to see emotion put on signs of pain—like + April showers that weep away into sunshine. But in Delia's face I saw + something that went deeper than all this. + </p> + <p> + “There is no one here,” said I, taking her hand, and holding it tightly in + mine, “who wishes you well in the future more sincerely than I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, Doctor,” she answered, returning the warm grasp I gave her. + Her eyes rested steadily in mine, and saw a shadow in them. + </p> + <p> + “We are sorry to lose you from S——. Indeed we cannot afford to + lose you.” + </p> + <p> + “She is wanted,” spoke up her young husband a little proudly, “to grace a + wider and more brilliant sphere of life.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the brilliant sphere that is always the happiest,” said I. + “Life's truest pleasures come oftener to quiet home circles even among the + lowly, than to gilded palaces where fortune's favorites reside.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not to external condition,” the bride remarked, “that we are to + look for happiness.” I thought her voice had in it a pensive tone, as if + she were not wholly satisfied with the brilliant promise that lay before + her. “You know, Doctor, we have talked that over more than once in our + lives.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Delia; and it is a truth which we ought never to forget—one + that I trust you and your husband will lay up in your hearts.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to the young man desiring my admonition to reach him also. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I might differ something from this sage conclusion,” he answered + a little flippantly. “As far as I can see, the external condition has a + great deal to do with our happiness. I am very sure, that if I were + situated as some people are whom I know, I would be miserable. So you see, + Doctor, I have my doubts touching this theory of yours and Delia's.” + </p> + <p> + “Time, I think, will demonstrate its truth,” I said, in a graver tone, and + turned from them to give place to those who could talk in a lighter strain + than was possible for me on the occasion. + </p> + <p> + During the evening I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with + the bride; but only when she happened to be a little separated from her + husband, towards whom his manner was coldly polite. The two young men, + after the scene in Judge Bigelow's office, only kept up, for the sake of + others, the shadow of acquaintanceship. Between them there was a strong + mutual repulsion which neither sought to overcome. + </p> + <p> + As I remarked I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with the + bride. But nothing in his manner indicated any sentiment beyond that of + friendship. He was polite, cheerful, and at his ease. But it was different + with her. She was not at her ease in his company, and yet, I could see + that his attention was grateful—even pleasant. + </p> + <p> + The augury was not good. As I read the signs, Delia Floyd, when she passed + from maidenhood to wifehood, departed from the path that led to happiness + in this world. And I said to myself as I pondered her future—“May + the disappointments and sorrows that are almost sure to come, turn her + feet aside into the right way at last!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + On the day following, the young husband bore his bride away to grace the + prouder home that awaited her in New York; and affairs in our town settled + themselves down into the old routine. + </p> + <p> + During the few months that have passed since the opening of our story, the + only matter that has occurred, of any interest to the reader, at the Allen + House, is the fact that Judge Bigelow has undertaken the management of + Mrs. Montgomery's affairs, and the establishment of her claim to the + possession, as only heir, of the whole of Captain Allen's property. Some + legal difficulties, bearing upon her identification as his sister, were in + the way; and in the effort to remove these, there had been considerable + correspondence with persons in England. + </p> + <p> + The first fact to be clearly proved was the solemnization of a marriage + between Mrs. Montgomery's mother and the elder Captain Allen. Next, the + identity of Mrs. Montgomery as her child. No marriage certificate, nor any + record of the fact, as to the exact time and place, were known to be in + existence; and without them, or evidence of a very conclusive character, + the title of Mrs. Montgomery could not be clearly established. + </p> + <p> + This, Judge Bigelow stated to her in the beginning; but, up to this time, + no such evidence had been found. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Montgomery's health was not good, and as she required occasional + medical aid, my visits to the Allen House were continued. The more + intimately I came to know this lady, the higher did she rise in my esteem. + She united strength of mind with clearness of perception: and decision of + character with prudence and justice. She had, likewise, a depth and + tenderness of feeling that often exhibited itself in beautiful incidents. + The dignity of manner, which at first seemed touched with hauteur, now + only gave grace to her fine proportions. + </p> + <p> + She had, from the beginning, spoken to me without reserve of her affairs, + in which I naturally took deep interest. One day she said:— + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, I wish to get your opinion in regard to an individual whom Judge + Bigelow proposes to send out to England for me on important business. He + is a young man, associated with him, as I understand it, professionally. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is the name, I believe. Do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he prudent, intelligent, and reliable?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “You only think so, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “I can speak in stronger terms. As far as one can know another, I am ready + to say that <i>he is</i> prudent, intelligent, and reliable. If I had + important business to transact at a distant point, and needed a trusty + agent, I would select him before any other man in S——.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish no better testimony, Doctor, and am glad to know that I can + procure an agent so well qualified.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen him?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No. But Judge Bigelow is to bring him here today, in order that I may see + and converse with him.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find him,” said I, “a young man of few words and unobtrusive + manners—but solid as a rock. I have seen him under circumstances + calculated to test the character of any man.” + </p> + <p> + “What are the circumstances, if you are free to speak of them?” asked Mrs. + Montgomery. “We get always a truer estimate of a man, when we see him in + some great battle of life; for then, his real qualities and resources + become apparent.” + </p> + <p> + I thought for a little while before answering. It did not seem just right + to draw aside the veil that strangers' eyes might look upon a life-passage + such as was written in Wallingford's Book of Memory. The brief but fierce + struggle was over with him; and he was moving steadily onward, sadder, no + doubt, for the experience, and wiser, no doubt. But the secret was his + own, and I felt that no one ought to meddle therewith. Still, a relation + of the fact, showing how deeply the man could feel, and how strong he was + in self-mastery, could not but raise him in the estimation of Mrs. + Montgomery, and increase her confidence. + </p> + <p> + “It is hardly fair,” said I, “to bring up the circumstances of a man's + life over which he has drawn a veil; and which are sacred to himself + alone. In this case, however, with the end of enabling you more fully to + know the person you think of sending abroad on an important service, I + will relate an occurrence that cannot fail to awaken in your mind an + interest for the young man, such as we always feel for those who have + passed through deep suffering.” + </p> + <p> + Blanche was sitting by her mother. Indeed, the two were almost inseparable + companions. It was a rare thing to find them apart. I saw her face kindle + with an earnest curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Judge Bigelow's nephew was married, recently,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “So the Judge informed me. He spoke very warmly of his nephew, who is a + merchant in New York, I think he said.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a partner in a mercantile firm there. The bride was Squire Floyd's + daughter; a very superior girl—lovely in character, attractive in + person, and, mentally, well cultivated. I have always regarded her as the + flower of our town.” + </p> + <p> + “The young man had good taste, it seems,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Better than the young lady showed in taking him for a husband,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ah? Then your opinion of him is not so favorable.” + </p> + <p> + “He was not worthy of her, if I possess any skill in reading character. + But there was one worthy of her, and deeply attached to her at the same + time.” + </p> + <p> + “This young Wallingford, of whom we were speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “The same.” + </p> + <p> + “But she didn't fancy him?” + </p> + <p> + “She did fancy him. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Was not able to resist the attractions of a New York merchant, when put + in opposition to those of a humble country lawyer?” + </p> + <p> + “The truth lies about there. She took the showy effigy of a man, in place + of the real man.” + </p> + <p> + “A sad mistake. But it is made every day,” said Mrs. Montgomery, “and will + continue to be made. Alas for the blindness and folly that lead so many + into paths that terminate in barren deserts, or wildernesses where the + soul is lost! And so our young friend has been crossed in love.” + </p> + <p> + “The experience is deeper than usual,” said I. Then I related, with some + particularity, the facts in the case, already known to the reader. Both + the mother and daughter listened with deep attention. After I had finished + my story, Mrs. Montgomery said, + </p> + <p> + “He possesses will and strength of character, that is plain; but I can't + say that I just like the deliberate process of <i>un</i>loving, if I may + use the word, which you have described. There is something too + cold-blooded about it for me. Like the oak, bent under the pressure of a + fierce storm, he comes up erect too soon.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at her view of the case, and answered, + </p> + <p> + “You look upon it as a woman, I as a man. To me, there is a certain moral + grandeur in the way he has disenthralled himself from fetters that could + not remain, without a life-long disability.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no doubt it was the wisest course,” said Mrs. Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + “And may we not look among the wisest men, for the best and most + reliable?” I queried. + </p> + <p> + “Among those who are truly wise,” she said, her voice giving emphasis to + the word <i>truly</i>. + </p> + <p> + “What is it to be truly wise?” + </p> + <p> + “All true wisdom,” she answered, “as it appertains to the affairs of this + life, has its foundation in a just regard for others; for, in the degree + that we are just to others, are we just to ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “And is not the converse of your proposition true also? In the degree that + we are just to ourselves, are we not just to others?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly. Each individual bears to common society, the same relation + that a member, organ, or fibre, does to the human body, of which it makes + a part. And as no member, organ, or fibre of the body, can injure itself + without injuring the whole man; so no individual can do wrong to himself, + without a consequent wrong to others. Each has duties to perform for the + good of common society, and any self-inflicted or self-permitted + disabilities that hinder the right performance of these duties, involve a + moral wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the case is very clear for my friend Wallingford,” said I. “He is a + wise man in your sense of the word—wise, in resolutely putting away + from his mind the image of one who, if she had been worthy of him, would + have taken her place proudly by his side; but, proving herself unworthy, + could never afterward be to him more than a friend or stringer. He could + not hold her image in his heart, and fondly regard it, without sin; for + was she not to be the bride of another? Nor without suffering loss of + mental power, and life-purpose, and thus injuring others trough neglect of + duty. It was acting wisely, then, for him to come up, manfully, to the + work of drawing back his misplaced affections, and getting them again + fully into his own possession. And he has done the work, if I read the + signs aright. All honor to his manhood!” + </p> + <p> + “He has, I see, a warm advocate in you, Doctor,” said Mrs. Montgomery, + again smiling. “Still, in an affair of the heart, where so much was + involved, as seemed to be in his case, we can hardly fancy such a + matter-of-fact, business-like proceeding as you have described. He might + well have been forgiven, if he had shown more weakness of character, and + acted even a little unreasonably. I will yield to no one in my regard for + manly firmness and self-control, for bravery and endurance; and I have + seen these qualities put to some of the severest tests. But in matters of + the heart, I must own that I like to see a man show his weakness. Your Mr. + Wallingford is too cool and calculating for me. But this is irrelevant to + our consideration of his qualities as a business agent. For this purpose, + I am satisfied that he is fitted in all things essential.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is quite as far as we need go,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The business in hand,” said Mrs. Montgomery, resuming the conversation + after a pause, “is of great importance to me, and may require not only a + visit to England, but also to the West Indies. Unless evidence of my + mother's marriage can be found, there will be, as you know, considerable + difficulty in establishing my full right to inherit my brother's property. + And my identity as the sister of the late Captain Allen must also be + proved. By the will of my father, which is on record, he left all of his + property to my brother. He, as far as is known, died intestate. As next of + kin, I am the legal heir; but the proof is yet wanting. My mother's + cousin, a Colonel Willoughby, of whom we have before spoken, came over + from England, on the strength of some vague rumors that reached the family + from Jamaica, and was successful in discovering the only survivor of his + uncle's family. She saw it best to abandon her husband, as you know. My + purpose in sending an agent, versed in legal matters, and used to weighing + evidence, is to have such papers of Colonel Willoughby's as the family + possess and will submit for examination, carefully searched, in the hope + that some record may be found in his hand-writing, sufficiently clear to + establish the fact that my mother was the wife of the elder Captain Allen. + So important an event as that of searching out my mother, and inducing her + to flee from her husband, could hardly have taken place, it seems to me, + without evidence of the fact being preserved. And my hope is, that this + evidence, if it can be found, will prove of great value. So you see, + Doctor, that I have good reasons for wishing to know well the agent who + goes abroad with a matter so vital as this in his hands.” + </p> + <p> + I admitted the importance of a thoroughly reliable man to go upon this + mission, and repeated my faith in Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + I saw Mrs. Montgomery a few days afterwards, and inquired if she had seen + the young associate of Judge Bigelow. She replied in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “How does he impress you?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Favorably, upon the whole; though,” she added with one of her meaning + smiles, “I can't help thinking all the time about the cool, calculating, + resolute way in which he went about disentangling himself from an + unfortunate love affair. I look at his calm face, over which you rarely + see a ripple of feeling go, and ask myself, sometimes, if a heart really + beats within his bosom.” + </p> + <p> + “There does; a true, large, manly heart, full of deep feeling; you may be + sure of this, madam,” I answered, with some warmth. + </p> + <p> + “I will not gainsay your words, Doctor. I trust for his sake that it may + be so.” + </p> + <p> + “Leaving out the heart matter, and regarding him only as to his fitness + for the work in hand, you are favorably impressed?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. I find him quick of apprehension, intelligent, and of + sufficient gravity of deportment to ensure a respectful attention wherever + he may go. He made one suggestion that ought to have occurred to me, and + upon which I am acting. As no will has been found, it has been assumed + that Captain Allen died intestate. Mr. Wallingford suggests that a will + may have been executed; and that a thorough search be made in order to + discover if one exists. In consequence of this suggestion, Blanche and I + have been hard at work for two days, prying into drawers, examining old + papers, and looking into all conceivable, and I had almost said + inconceivable places.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you were to find a will?” said I, looking into her earnest face. + </p> + <p> + “The question would be that much nearer to a solution.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it at all probable that it would be in your favor?” + </p> + <p> + I saw her start at the query, while her brows closed slightly, as if from + a sudden pain. She looked at me steadily for a few moments, without + speaking; then, after a long inspiration, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Whether in my favor or not, any disposition that he has made of his + property, in law and right, must, of course, stand good.” + </p> + <p> + “You might contest such a will, if not in your favor.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, compressed her lips firmly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “No. I should not contest the will. My belief was, when I came here, that + he died without making a bequest of any kind, and that his property would + go, in consequence, to the heir-at-law. This was the information that I + received. If it should prove otherwise, I shall make no opposition.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you intend, under this view, continuing the search for a will?” + </p> + <p> + Something in the tone of voice touched her unpleasantly. I saw the light + in her eyes glow intenser, and her lips arch. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” she asked, looking at me steadily. I could have given another + meaning to my question from the one I intended to convey, had it so + pleased me, and thus avoided a probable offence. But I wished to see a + little deeper into the quality of her mind, and so used the probe that was + in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you find a will, devising the property out of your line, all your + present prospects are at an end,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I know it.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was firm as well as emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “Then why not take the other horn of this dilemma? Give up searching for a + will that can hardly be in your favor, and go on to prove your title + through consanguinity.” + </p> + <p> + “And thus shut my eyes to the probable rights of others, in order to + secure a personal advantage? Do you think I would do this, Doctor? If so, + you have mistaken me.” + </p> + <p> + There was a tone of regret in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” I replied. “The suggestion was natural under the + circumstances, and I gave it utterance.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you in my place, would you give up the search here?” + </p> + <p> + She fixed on me a penetrating look. + </p> + <p> + The probe had changed hands. + </p> + <p> + “It is difficult,” I answered, “for us to say what we would do if we were + to change places with another. In my experience, it is easy to see what is + right for our neighbor, but very difficult to see the right way for + ourselves, when under the allurement of some personal advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “Would it be right in me to give up the search?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not.” + </p> + <p> + My answer was without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “And I will not,” she said, firmly. “If my brother has devised his + property, I have only to know the terms of his will. If it is against me, + well. I shall not oppose its operation.” + </p> + <p> + “It sometimes happens,” I suggested, “that a testator is manifestly out of + his right mind as to the direction given to his property, and bequeaths it + in a manner so evidently unwise and improper, that both justice and + humanity are served in the act of setting aside the will. And it might + prove so in this case.” + </p> + <p> + “I know not how that may be,” Mrs. Montgomery answered, soberly, yet + firmly. “But this I do know”—she spoke resolutely—“God helping + me, I will not stain my hands with gold that, in any legal right, belongs + to another. What is clearly mine, I will take and use as it is my right + and duty. But I must be certain that it is mine. If there is no will, I am + clear as to who is the owner of this estate; if there is a will, and I and + mine are not included in its provisions, I will step aside. First, + however, the obligation to search for a will is imperative; and I shall + continue it until clearly satisfied that no such document exists.” + </p> + <p> + What a womanly dignity there was in Mrs. Montgomery as she said this, + drawing her tall form up to its full height in speaking—not proudly, + but with conscious integrity! + </p> + <p> + “What is right is always best.” I made the remark as well approvingly as + in expression of an immutable truth. + </p> + <p> + “Always, always,” she replied, with earnestness. “There is no blinder + folly than that of grasping a present worldly good, at the expense of + violated justice. Whoever does so, comes out that far wrong in the end. + There is only one way that leads to peace of mind: the way of honor and + right. All other ways, no matter into what rich harvest fields they may + lead in the beginning, terminate in wretchedness. There never has been, + and never will be, any exception to this rule. We see its operation daily, + turn our eyes whatsoever way we choose. And God forbid that I should + deliberately enter the way that leads to ultimate unhappiness! Self-denial + in the present is better than gnawing regret in the future. The good + things of this world prove to be curses instead of blessings, unless the + mind be rightly adjusted for their enjoyment. And such a right adjustment + is impossible where the very fact of their possession involves a moral + wrong. I see this so clearly, Doctor, that I shudder inwardly at the bare + imagination of committing such a wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “It is by trial that God proves us,” said I, “and may He bring you out of + this one, should the trial come, as gold from the refiner's furnace!” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” was her solemnly uttered response; “if it should come, may I be + found strong enough to do the right!” + </p> + <p> + For over a week this search for a will was continued, until it was clear + to all concerned that no such document was in existence. Then preparation + was made for the visit to England, in search of evidence bearing upon the + identity of Mrs. Montgomery as the sister of Captain Allen. Two or three + months elapsed, however, before Mr. Wallingford could so arrange his + business as to be absent for the length of time it might take to complete + his mission. He sailed for England in June, between three and four months + after the marriage of Delia Floyd. He called to see me on the day before + leaving, and I had a brief but pleasant talk with him. He was in good + health and good spirits, and anticipated a successful visit. + </p> + <p> + “I shall gain,” he remarked, “in two ways by this trip. Professionally and + intellectually. I have had many a dream of that land of our forefathers—England—now + to be realized. I shall see London, walk its streets, and linger amid its + historic places. Don't smile at this almost boyish enthusiasm, Doctor. + London has always been the Mecca of my desires.” + </p> + <p> + I had never seen him so animated. A higher life seemed flowing in his + veins. His countenance had a brighter aspect than usual, and his head an + erecter carriage. There was a depth of meaning in his eyes never observed + before—a look as if some new born hope were lending its inspiration + to his soul. Altogether manlier was his aspect and bearing than I had ever + seen it. + </p> + <p> + “God speed your mission,” said I, as I shook hands with him in parting. + </p> + <p> + “If it depends on human agency, directed with earnestness, patience, and + will, my mission will have a prosperous result,” he replied. “It is to be + my first entirely self-reliant experience, and I think the discipline of + mind it will involve must strengthen me for higher professional work than + any in which I have yet been engaged. You are aware, Doctor, that my heart + is in my profession.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have seen from the beginning.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not deny,” he added, “that I have ambition. That I wish to be + distinguished at the bar.” + </p> + <p> + “An honorable ambition,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Nor that, sometimes—in moments of weakness, perhaps—my dreams + have gone higher. But I am a very young man, and youth is ardent and + imaginative,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “And you have this great advantage,” I replied, “that, with every year + added to your life, you may, if you will, grow wiser and stronger. You + stand, as all young minds, at the bottom of a ladder. The height to which + you climb will depend upon your strength and endurance.” + </p> + <p> + “If we both live long enough, Doctor, you may see me on the topmost + rundle, for I shall climb with unwearying effort.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with a fine enthusiasm, that lent a manly beauty to his face. + </p> + <p> + “Climb on,” I answered, “and you will rise high above the great mass, who + are aimless and indolent. But you will have competitors, few, but vigorous + and tireless. In the contest for position that you must wage with these, + all your powers will be taxed; and if you reach the topmost rundle to + which you aspire, success will be, indeed, a proud achievement.” + </p> + <p> + “I have the will, the ambition, the courage, and the endurance, Doctor,” + was his reply. “So, if I fail, the fault will lie here,” and he touched, + significantly, his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “For lack of brains?” said I, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. The defect will lie there,” he answered, smiling in return. + </p> + <p> + “Brains are remarkable for latent capacity. If stimulated, they develop + new powers, and this almost without limit. All they want is to be well + supplied with the right kind of food, and well worked at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that, Doctor, and find vast encouragement in the thought,” and + Wallingford laughed pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + Our parting words were growing voluminous. So we shook hands again, + repeated our mutual good wishes, and separated. In the afternoon he + started for Boston, from whence he sailed, on the next day, for England. + </p> + <p> + This was towards the latter end of June. He was to write to Mrs. + Montgomery immediately on his arrival out, and again as soon as he had + obtained an interview with the Willoughby family. Early in August, she + received his first letter, which was brief, simply announcing his arrival + at Liverpool. + </p> + <p> + About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note from + Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed something in + her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not smile, as was her wont, + when we met, her countenance retaining its usual serious expression. I + thought she looked paler, and just a little troubled. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor,” she said. “I am afraid you + will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly interest in + me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a sound adviser.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed, and she continued: + </p> + <p> + “I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, been well + received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, for examination, a + large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel Willoughby.” + </p> + <p> + “If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be sure to + find it,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt of that. But”—I thought her voice faltered a little—“the + question is solved, and he may return.” + </p> + <p> + “Solved! How?” I asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I have found the will.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I have found the will,” she repeated, in a steady tone, “and that solves + the question.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it in your favor?” I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. It + came in a firmly uttered— + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + We looked steadily into each other's face for several moments. + </p> + <p> + “In whose favor?” + </p> + <p> + “In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “But she is dead,” I answered quickly. + </p> + <p> + “True—but I am not his heir.” + </p> + <p> + She said this resolutely. + </p> + <p> + “She died childless,” said I, “and will not the descent stop with her?—the + property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain Allen?” + </p> + <p> + “She may have relatives—a brother or sister,” said Mrs. Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + “That is scarcely probable,” I objected. + </p> + <p> + “It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means ought + to, and must be, taken.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you find the will?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she + accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She pressed + harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back several + inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to its place. She + then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As soon as it had passed + a certain point, a secret drawer, set in vertically, sprung up, and from + the side, which fell open, the will dropped out.” + </p> + <p> + “It is singular,” said I, “that it should come to light just at this + time.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Providential, no doubt,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + </p> + <p> + “What course will you pursue?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + “I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “On what ground?” + </p> + <p> + “This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no more. If + the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you stood before, and + will require the evidence as to identity for which Mr. Wallingford is now + in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must not be recalled.” + </p> + <p> + The lady mused for a little while, and then said— + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are right, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it,” I replied, speaking earnestly. “This will, if we find + it, on examination, to be an instrument executed according to legal forms, + puts your rights in jeopardy, though by no means sets them aside.” + </p> + <p> + “You take the correct view, no doubt,” was her reply to this. Her voice + was not so firm as in the beginning. As the probabilities began to show + themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work,” said I, “and find, if possible, + the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the legal heir, as I + trust you will. And until his return, the existence of this important + document had better remain a secret.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?” + </p> + <p> + I reflected for some moments, and then replied— + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He is your legal adviser, and one in whom the highest confidence may + be reposed. The will should be at once placed in his hands for + examination.” + </p> + <p> + “And go upon record?” + </p> + <p> + “Better leave all to his superior legal judgment. But,” as the thought + occurred to me, “who are named as the executors of this will?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not examine as to that, being too much interested in the provisions + of the writing,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “May I see the document?” + </p> + <p> + “Blanche, dear, you will find it in the right-hand drawer of the + secretary, in our room;” and Mrs. Montgomery handed a key to her daughter, + who left the apartment in which we were sitting. She came back in a few + minutes, and handed me a paper, which, on examination, I found to be + written throughout, and evidently by the hand of Captain Allen. It was + dated San Juan de Porto Rico, January 10, 1820, and was witnessed by two + signatures—the names Spanish. The executors were Judge Bigelow and + Squire Floyd. There was an important sentence at the conclusion of the + will. It was in these words:—“In case my wife, in dying, should + leave no relatives, then every thing shall revert to my own right heirs, + should any be living.” + </p> + <p> + All this gave the affair, in my mind, a more serious aspect. Before + mentioning the executors' names, I said— + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where Theresa Garcia resided, before her marriage with + Captain Allen?” + </p> + <p> + “In Porto Rico, as I have learned from old 'Aunty,' and also from letters + found in searching for the will.” + </p> + <p> + “Which I find was executed at San Juan De Porto Rico, the principal town + on the island. Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd are the executors.” + </p> + <p> + I saw her start slightly, and grow a little pale as I said this. + </p> + <p> + “Judge Bigelow, and Squire Floyd! That is extraordinary!” She was more + disturbed than I had yet seen her in reference to this matter. + </p> + <p> + “It is remarkable, certainly, that Judge Bigelow, your legal adviser, + should be one of the executors of a will, which determines your brother's + estate out of the line of consanguinity.” + </p> + <p> + “He must, of course, cease to represent my interest in the case,” remarked + the lady. + </p> + <p> + “He cannot represent two diverse interests,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “No; that is clear.” She said this in a troubled way; and was, evidently, + falling into a perplexed state of mind. “Well, Doctor, what is to be + done?” She spoke with recovered self-possession, after a short period of + silence, looking at me with her old calmness of expression. + </p> + <p> + I took some moments for reflection, and then said, + </p> + <p> + “My advice is, to keep your own counsel, and wait until Mr. Wallingford + returns from England. Whenever you place this document in the hands of + Judge Bigelow, he must go over to the adverse interest; when you will be + compelled to seek another legal adviser. You are not just ready for this; + nor will be until after your agent comes back with the result of his + investigations. No wrong to any one can possibly occur from letting things + remain just as they are for a few months.” + </p> + <p> + “I think your view of the matter correct, Doctor,” was her reply. “And + yet, to keep this secret, even for an hour, when I have no right to its + possession, touches my conscience. Is it just? This will is not in my + favor. It does not even recognize my existence. It devises property, of + large value, in another line; and there may be heirs ready to take + possession, the moment its existence is made known to them. Am I not + intermeddling, unjustly, in the affairs of another?” + </p> + <p> + “But for you,” I replied, “this will might never have seen the light. If + heirs exist, they can, therefore, have no just reason for complaint at the + brief delay to which, under the circumstances, you are, in common justice, + entitled. Your conscience may be over sensitive, Mrs. Montgomery.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather it were over sensitive than obtuse,” she said. “Worldly + possessions are desirable. They give us many advantages. We all desire and + cling to them. But they are dearly bought at the price of heavenly + possessions. What will it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose + his own soul? Nothing! It were better for him to die like Lazarus. No, + Doctor, I am resolved in this matter to be simply just. If, in justice and + right, this estate comes into my hands, I will take the wealth thankfully + and use it as wisely as I can. But I will not throw a single straw in the + way of its passing to the legal heirs of my brother's wife, if any are in + existence and can be found.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will keep this secret until Mr. Wallingford's return?” I urged. + </p> + <p> + “I do not see that wrong to any one can follow such a delay,” she + answered. “Yes, I will keep the secret.” + </p> + <p> + “And I will keep it also, even from my good Constance,” said I, “until + your agent's return. The matter lies sacred between us.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + “Mrs. Dewey is at her father's,” said my wife to me, one evening in + August, as we sat at the tea-table. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! have you seen her?” I was interested at once. Six months had elapsed + since Delia's wedding, and this was her first visit home; though her + mother had been twice down to New York, in company with the Squire, who + had business with the firm to which Ralph belonged. In fact, since his + marriage to Squire Floyd's daughter, young Dewey had prevailed upon his + father-in-law to make the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., agents + for the entire product of his manufactory—an arrangement which the + Squire regarded as greatly to his advantage. + </p> + <p> + My question was answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “How is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Looking very well.” + </p> + <p> + There was no warmth or feeling in my wife's voice or manner, although + Delia had been a favorite with her, and we had often talked about the + pleasure we should have in meeting her again. + </p> + <p> + “Have you nothing more to say of our young friend?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “She is very much changed.” + </p> + <p> + “For the better?” + </p> + <p> + “Some might think so. I do not.” There was a disappointed manner about my + wife. + </p> + <p> + “In what respect is she changed?” + </p> + <p> + “Some would say that she had grown handsome; and, in truth, her + countenance strikes you, at first, as much improved. It is rounded to a + fuller outline, and has a style about it, caught, I suppose, from city + life and feeling. But she carries her head with a statelier air than is + becoming Squire Floyd's daughter; and I am very sure, that, as the wife of + Ralph Dewey, she has acquired no special consequence. Rich jewelry may be + very well in city drawing-rooms, and public assemblages, where dress is + made conspicuous. But to sport diamond ear-rings and breastpin, splendid + enough for a countess, in her father's little parlor, and before the eyes + of friends who loved her once for herself alone, savored so strongly of + weak pride and vanity, that I could not look upon her with any of my old + feelings. It was Delia Floyd no longer. Already, the pure, sweet, artless + maiden, had changed into a woman of the world, dressed up for show. Ah, my + husband! if this is the effect of city life, let me never breathe its + tainted atmosphere.” + </p> + <p> + And she dropped her eyes, with a sigh, and sat, lost in thought, for + several moments. + </p> + <p> + “Your account of Delia pains me,” said I. “Is the case indeed so bad?” + </p> + <p> + “It is. Alas! the fine gold is dimmed. Our sweet young friend has strayed + from the paths of nature, and will never, I fear, get back again.” + </p> + <p> + “Had you any conversation with her?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: or, rather I listened to her, as she ran on about her city life; the + grand people with whom, she had already become acquainted; and the + splendor of balls, parties, soirees, and operas. I grew sober as she + talked: for not one true womanly sentiment fell from her lips. She did not + express interest in any of her new friends and acquaintances for the good + qualities they possessed; but spoke of their wealth, style of living, + social connections, and other attractions wholly external to the + individual. She was even eloquent over star actresses and opera singers; + one or two of whom she spoke of having met at the house of a fashionable + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “How true the old adage, that evil communications corrupt good manners!” + said I. + </p> + <p> + “There must be some radical weakness in a case of such sudden + deterioration as this,” replied my wife. “Some latent vanity and love of + the world. I cannot believe that one sensible young woman in ten would be + spoiled to the degree that Delia is spoiled, if you passed her through + like temptations.” + </p> + <p> + I saw Delia myself, on the next day. She was dressed in New York, not in S——, + style; and so, naturally, appeared to disadvantage in my eyes. I found her + very bright and animated; and to my questions as to her new city life, she + spoke warmly of its attractions. At times, in the intervals of exciting + talk, her countenance would fall into its true expression, as nearly all + countenances will when thought ceases to be active—that expression, + in which you see, as in a mirror, the actual state of mind. It revealed + far more than came into her consciousness at the time, else would she have + covered it with one of the rippling smiles she had already learned to + throw, like a spangled veil, over her face. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dewey spent nearly a month in S——and then went back with + her husband to New York. I saw them several times together during this + period. He had grown more pompous in manner, and talked in a larger way. + Our little town was simply contemptible in his eyes, and he was at no + pains to conceal his opinion. New York was everything; and a New York + merchant of passable standing, able to put two or three towns like S——in + his breeches pocket. + </p> + <p> + The only interest I felt in this conceited young man was as the husband of + my young friend; and as touching their relation to each other, I observed + both of them very closely. It did not take me long to discover that there + was no true bond of love between them. The little fond attentions that we + look for in a husband of only six months' standing; and the tender + reciprocations which are sure to follow, were all wanting here. Constance + spoke of this, and I answered, lightly, to cover the regret the fact + occasioned— + </p> + <p> + “It is not fashionable in good society, you know, for husband and wife to + show any interest in each other.” + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand suddenly upon my arm, and looked lovingly into my face. + </p> + <p> + “May we never make a part of good society, then!” + </p> + <p> + I kissed her pure lips, and answered, + </p> + <p> + “There is no present prospect of it, my Constance. I am not ambitious of + social distinction. Still, our trial in this direction may come, for you + know that I am not without ambition professionally. A chair in one of the + medical schools might tempt me to an Atlantic city.” + </p> + <p> + Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm. Then looking + from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on the floor, + while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the cradle, she said:— + </p> + <p> + “I shall not need the glitter of diamonds—these are my jewels.” + </p> + <p> + Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at sight + of a husband's kiss. Could I do less than breathe my tender love upon her + lips again? + </p> + <p> + “And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen,” said I. “As + a mother, woman attains her highest glory.” + </p> + <p> + “As wife and mother,” Constance answered quickly. And now she leaned + against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her. + </p> + <p> + “And all this,” she said, “a good society woman must give up; and for + what? God help them in the time of life's bitter trials and painful + experience, which all must endure in some degree!” She spoke with strong + feeling. “On what arm can a woman lean, who has no husband in the true + sense? Is she strong enough, standing alone, for life's great battles? + What has she to sustain her, when all the external support, received from + pride, is swept away? Alas! Alas! Is there a blinder folly than the + pageantry of fashionable society? It is the stage on a grander scale, + glittering, gorgeous, fascinating to the senses—but all a mere show, + back from which the actors retire, each with an individual consciousness, + and the sad words pressing to tremulous lips—'The heart knoweth its + own bitterness.'” + </p> + <p> + Like ourselves, most of Delia's best friends were disappointed, and when + she returned to New York, no hearts followed her with tender interest, + except those of her own family. She had carried herself with an air of too + much self-consequence; or, if she came down to the level of old friends + and companions, it was with too evident a feeling of condescension. + </p> + <p> + I happened to fall into the company of Squire Floyd and Judge Bigelow, not + very long after the return of Delia and her husband to New York. The + conversation turned upon business, and I learned that the Squire had + thought of enlarging his mill, and introducing steam—the water power + being only sufficient for its present productive capacity. Judge Bigelow + was very much interested, I found, in the particular branch of manufacture + in which his neighbor was engaged, and inclined to embark some capital + with him in the proposed extension of the works. They frequently quoted + the Judge's nephew, Mr. Ralph Dewey, as to the extent to which goods could + be put into market by the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., who + possessed, it was conceded, almost unlimited facilities. + </p> + <p> + I listened to their conversation, which involved plans of enlargement, + statistics of trade, home and foreign production, capital, and the like, + until I began to feel that I was moving in a narrow sphere, and destined, + in comparison with them, to occupy a very small space on the world. And I + will confess it, a shade of dissatisfaction crept over my heart. + </p> + <p> + A few months later I learned that my two neighbors were jointly interested + in the mill, and that early in the ensuing spring steam-power would be + introduced, and the capacity of the works increased to more than double + their present range. + </p> + <p> + It was December when Wallingford returned from England. He brought back + with him all the evidence required to prove the identity of Mrs. + Montgomery. Up to this time only three persons knew of the existence of a + will—Mrs. Montgomery, Blanche, and myself; and we formed a council + on the question of what was now to be done. I gave it as my opinion, that, + as Judge Bigelow was one of the executors, and must in consequence cease + to act for Mrs. Montgomery, that we had better call in Mr. Wallingford, + and get his view of the case before placing the will in Judge Bigelow's + hands. The mother and daughter agreed with me. So a time of meeting was + appointed, and a note sent to the young lawyer desiring his presence at + the house of Mrs. Montgomery. He seemed very much gratified at the + successful result of his visit to England, and referred to it with + something of pardonable pride in his manner. + </p> + <p> + “We have every reason,” said Mrs. Montgomery, in response to this, “to be + satisfied with the manner in which you have executed an important mission. + Since you left America, however, a document has come into my hands, which, + had it reached me earlier, would have saved you a long and tedious search + among mouldy and moth-eaten papers. It was nothing less than Captain + Allen's will.” + </p> + <p> + And she gave him the paper. He looked surprised, and for a moment or two + bewildered. Then opening the will, he read it through rapidly. I saw the + color leave his face as he progressed, and his hand move nervously. It was + plain that his mind took in, at a grasp, the entire series of consequences + which the appearance of this document involved. + </p> + <p> + “This is a serious matter,” he said, looking up at Mrs. Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + “It is,” she answered, calmly. “The will appears to be in legal form.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And must go into the hands of those who are named as executors.” + </p> + <p> + “And be by them entered in the office of probate,” added Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “I would have placed it in their hands immediately on its discovery, but + have, acting under advice from my kind friend here, waited until your + return from England. No interest has suffered, I presume, by this delay?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford bent his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time as if + half-confounded by the discovery. + </p> + <p> + “What step will the executors probably take?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “It will be their duty to assume possession of the estate, and hold it for + the heirs of Mrs. Allen, if any are in existence,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “And it will be their duty to take all proper means for discovering these + heirs?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That follows, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “And if none are found within a reasonable time?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “The phrase, a reasonable time, is very indeterminate,” said Wallingford. + “It may include one, or ten years, according to the facts in the case, the + views of the executors and the courts.” + </p> + <p> + “But, finally?” + </p> + <p> + “Finally,” he answered, “if no heirs come forward to claim the estate, it + will revert to the old line of descent through the blood relations of + Captain Allen.” + </p> + <p> + “And come into the possession of Mrs. Montgomery?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if the courts are satisfied with the evidence which can be presented + in her favor.” + </p> + <p> + There followed a long silence, which Mrs. Montgomery was first to break. + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” she said, firmly, “that I am prepared for the final issue of + this matter, whatever it may be. I shall still require legal advice, Mr. + Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + The young man bowed assent. + </p> + <p> + “And, as Judge Bigelow is one of the executors—” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think, madam,” said Wallingford, interrupting her, “that the + fact of his executorship will make him any the less a safe adviser for + you. He is a man of the highest integrity of character, clear-seeing, and + of impartial judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe in his judgment and integrity,” she replied. “Still, I do not + think it well to have these two interests represented by the same man. You + are his associate, if I understand correctly the relation between you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am, in a certain sense.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you have a share in all of his business?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in all.” + </p> + <p> + “So he can be independent of you in any special case if he deems it + desirable.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And this is also true as regards yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Mr. Wallingford, I shall consult you, individually, in future.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed low in acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “And let me say to you, once for all, that I want only my rights, if I + have any, protected. I do not wish any impediments thrown in the way of a + proper search for the heirs of Mrs. Allen; but desire to see the fullest + notice given, and in channels by which it is most likely to reach them. At + the same time, it is but just to me and mine that all right steps should + be taken to protect my interests, in case no heirs should be found. And I + have faith in you, Mr. Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall never have cause to regret your confidence, madam,” he replied, + in a tone so full of manly integrity, that I could not but gaze upon his + fine countenance with a feeling of admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Will you place this will in the hands of Judge Bigelow?” asked Mrs. + Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + “It will be best for you to do that yourself, madam,” replied Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “I will be guided by your judgment in the case, sir. This very day I will + send him a note asking an interview.” + </p> + <p> + “After that, madam,” said Wallingford, rising, “I will be at your + service.” + </p> + <p> + We retired together. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + Both Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd were discreet men, and did not, at the + outset of their executorship, do more in the way of giving publicity to + the fact, than probating the will, and entering into bonds for the + faithful performance of the trust. For the present they decided to let + Mrs. Montgomery remain in occupancy of the old mansion, and she accepted + this concession in her favor. + </p> + <p> + The property left by Captain Allen was large. The grounds upon which the + old house stood, embraced nearly twenty acres, and as the town had grown + in that direction, its value might now be estimated by the foot, instead + of the acre, as houses had grown up on all sides. Moreover, the stream of + water upon which the mill of Squire Floyd stood, ran through these + grounds, in a series of picturesque rapids, giving a fall of over twenty + feet. The value of this property, including a mill site, was estimated at + sixty thousand dollars. Then there were twenty thousand dollars in stock + of the County Bank, the interest of which Mrs. Allen had drawn since the + death of her husband, regularly, as administratrix of the estate. Besides + this property, there were several pieces of unimproved land in and around + the town, the value of which could not fall much below twenty thousand + dollars. In addition to all this, was a coffee estate on the island of + Porto Rico. But as to its extent, or value, no evidence appeared. It might + now be richly productive, or a mere tropical wilderness. If productive, no + evidence of any return since Captain Allen's death appeared. + </p> + <p> + The winter passed without any apparent movement on the part of the + executors looking to the discovery of Mrs. Allen's heirs. Young Dewey came + up from New York every few weeks, to hold business interviews with his + uncle and Squire Floyd, touching the mill-extension which was fully + determined upon; Judge Bigelow agreeing to invest twenty thousand dollars, + and the nephew ten thousand. All these matters were talked of in the + beginning, freely, before Wallingford, who still had his office with his + old preceptor, and shared in his business. After a while, he noticed a + growing reserve on the part of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, when he was + by, touching their private affairs; and then they ceased entirely all + reference thereto. + </p> + <p> + Dewey came up as frequently as usual, but avoided any remark in relation + to business while in the presence of Wallingford. During his stay in S——, + the Judge spent but little time at the office; being, for the most part, + at the mill with his nephew and the Squire. + </p> + <p> + In the spring, a large force of men was set to work on the extension of + Squire Floyd's mill; and as Judge Bigelow had become largely interested in + the new enterprise, he gave a great deal more attention to what was going + on in that direction, than to the business of his office, the heaviest + part of which devolved upon Mr. Wallingford. Still, no steps were taken to + discover the heirs of Mrs. Allen. Once or twice Mr. Wallingford had + approached the subject, but the Judge made no response. At last, he put + the question direct, as to what had been done. The Judge seemed a little + annoyed; but said, in a hurried way that was unusual with him, + </p> + <p> + “I must, and will attend to this matter immediately. I have had so much on + my mind that it has been neglected.” + </p> + <p> + But the spring months passed—summer glided by—and still there + was no advertisement for heirs, nor any steps taken, so far as Wallingford + could learn, to ascertain their existence. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Montgomery still occupied the old mansion, waiting patiently the + issue whatever it might be. Her health, I regretted to find, was not firm. + She suffered a great deal from nervous debility; and I saw, plainly, that + she had failed considerably during the past few months. Blanche, on the + contrary, after recovering from the illness which followed immediately on + her arrival in S——, had continued in excellent health; and was + growing daily more matured and womanly both as to mental development and + personal bearing. + </p> + <p> + The mill improvements went on all summer, exciting no little interest in + our town, and occasioning no small amount of talk and speculation. It was + some time in the fall of that year, that I was permitted to hear this + brief conversation between a couple of townsmen. Mr. A——had + made some query as to the source of all the money expended on the new mill + of Squire Floyd, which was now standing forth, under roof, in most + imposing proportions, compared with the old works. Mr. B——shrugged + his shoulders, and replied, + </p> + <p> + “Floyd and the Judge are joint executors of old Allen's estate, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that signify?” inquired Mr. A——. + </p> + <p> + “It may signify a great deal. They have trust funds in their possession to + a large amount, I am told.” + </p> + <p> + “They are both honorable men, and would not violate their trust,” said A——. + </p> + <p> + “I will not gainsay that,” answered Mr. B——. “Still, they may + use these funds temporarily, and wrong no one.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was said in my presence, but I turned their remarks over and + over again, feeling less satisfied the more I pondered them. A day or two + afterwards I met Mr. Wallingford, and said to him, + </p> + <p> + “How comes on the search for the heirs of the Allen estate?” + </p> + <p> + The question caused him to look grave. + </p> + <p> + “No progress has been made, so far as I can learn,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't this indifference on the part of the executors a little + extraordinary?” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I must confess that I do not understand it,” said the young lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “There is personal, as well as real estate?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Stocks worth twenty thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard it suggested, that trust funds in the case are going into + Squire Floyd's mill.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford started at the suggestion, and looked for some moments + intently in my face; then dropped his eyes, and stood lost in thought a + good while. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you hear the suggestion?” he at length inquired. + </p> + <p> + I repeated the conversation just mentioned, and named the individuals with + whom it had occurred. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Henry,” said I, “put this hint, and the singular neglect of the + executors to search for the heirs to the Allen property, together, and + tell me how the matter shapes itself in your mind. We speak confidentially + with each other, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't just like the appearance of it, that is all I can say, Doctor,” + he replied in a half absent manner. + </p> + <p> + “As you represent the interests of Mrs. Montgomery,” said I, “is it not + your duty to look a little closer into this matter?” + </p> + <p> + “It is; and I shall give it immediate attention.” + </p> + <p> + He did so, and to his surprise, found that all the bank stock had been + sold, and transferred. It was now plain to him where at least a part of + the funds being so liberally expended on the mill property of Squire Floyd + came from. On venturing to make some inquiries of Judge Bigelow bearing on + the subject, that individual showed an unusual degree of irritation, and + intimated, in terms not to be misunderstood, that he thought himself + competent to manage any business he might undertake, and did not feel + disposed to tolerate any intermeddling. + </p> + <p> + From that time, Wallingford saw that a separation from his old preceptor + was inevitable; and he so shaped events, that in less than three months he + made the separation easy and natural, and took an office to himself alone. + </p> + <p> + Still there was no movement on the part of the executors in regard to the + valuable estate in their hands. Summer and fall passed, and Christmas saw + the splendid improvements of Squire Floyd completed, and the new mill in + operation, under the vigorous power of steam. The product thus secured was + almost fabulous in the eyes of the half asleep and awake people of S——, + many of whom could hardly imagine people enough in the country to consume + the miles of cloth that came streaming out from the rattling looms. And + yet, we were informed, that more than quadruple this product could be sold + by the extensive house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co.; and that all that + stood in the way of creating a magnificent fortune out of cotton bales, + was the lack of productive facilities. + </p> + <p> + During this winter I saw more than usual of Mrs. Dewey. She came up from + New York with her nurse and child, a babe not quite a year old, and spent + over six weeks with her parents. She had lost, in the two years which had + passed since her marriage, nearly all those beautiful traits of character + which made her once so charming. Fashionable city life seemed to have + spoiled her altogether. Her mind had not grown in the right direction. She + had wholly abandoned that tasteful reading through which intellectual + refinement comes; and to all appearance, no longer cared for anything + beyond the mere sensuous. Nothing in S——had any interest for + her; and she scarcely took the pains to conceal her contempt for certain + sincere and worthy people, who felt called upon, for the sake of her + parents, to show her some attention. She was not happy, of course. When in + repose; I noticed a discontented look on her face. Her eyes had lost that + clear, innocent, almost child-like beauty of expression, that once made + you gaze into them; and now had a cold, absent, or eagerly longing + expression, as if her thought were straining itself forward towards some + coveted good. + </p> + <p> + Her conversation was almost always within the range of New York + fashionable themes; and barren of any food upon which the mind could grow. + There was not even the pretence of affection between her and her husband. + The fairest specimen of well bred indifference I had yet seen was + exhibited in their conduct to each other. Their babe did not seem to be a + matter of much account either. Delia took no personal care of it whatever—leaving + all this to the nurse. + </p> + <p> + It happened one day that I was called in to see the child. I found it + suffering from some of the ill effects of difficult dentition, and did + what the case required. There was an old friend of Delia's at the house—a + young lady who had been much attached to her, and who still retained a + degree of her old friendship. They were talking together in a pleasant, + familiar way, when I came down stairs from my visit to the sick child—the + mother had not shown sufficient interest in the little sufferer to attend + me to the nurse's room. A word or two of almost careless inquiry was made;—I + had scarcely answered the mother's queries, when her friend said, in a + laughing way, looking from the window at the same time, + </p> + <p> + “There, Delia! see what you escaped.” + </p> + <p> + I turned my eyes in the same direction, and saw Mr. Wallingford walking + past, on the opposite side of the street, with his head bent down. His + step was slow, but firm, and his air and carriage manly. + </p> + <p> + Delia shrugged her shoulders, and drew up the corners of her lips. There + was an expression very much like contempt on her face.—But she did + not make any reply. I saw this expression gradually fade away, and her + countenance grow sober. Her friend did not pursue the banter, and the + subject dropped. + </p> + <p> + What she had escaped! It was a dark day in the calendar of her life, when + she made that escape; and I think there must have been times when a + consciousness of this fact pressed upon her soul like a suffocating + nightmare. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <p> + Spring opened again, and the days glided swiftly on towards summer; and + yet, so far as the movements of the executors could be traced, nothing had + been done in the work of searching for the heirs. One day, early in June, + Mrs. Montgomery sent for Mr. Wallingford. On attending her, she placed in + his hands a communication which she had just received. It was from the + executors, giving notice in a kind and respectful way, that, for the + interest of the legal heirs, and their own security, it would be necessary + for them to assume full possession of the mansion and grounds, unless she + felt willing to pay a rental that was equivalent to the interest on their + value. + </p> + <p> + “I have expected this,” said the lady; “and, so far from considering + myself aggrieved, feel grateful that a quiet residence here has been so + long accorded me.” + </p> + <p> + “You will remove?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no other course left. My income will not justify a rent of some + three thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “As the property is unproductive, no such rent as that will be required.” + </p> + <p> + “The letter says, 'a rental equivalent to the interest on their value.'” + </p> + <p> + “I will see Judge Bigelow this morning, and ascertain precisely what views + are held in regard to this matter.” + </p> + <p> + They were sitting near one of the parlor windows that looked out upon the + portion of the grounds that sloped away towards the stream, that threw its + white folds of water from one rocky ledge to another in graceful + undulations. As Mr. Wallingford ceased speaking, Mrs. Montgomery turned + her head quickly and looked out. The sound of voices had reached her ears. + Three men had entered the grounds, and were passing the window at a short + distance. + </p> + <p> + “Who are they?” asked Mr. Wallingford. Then, answering his own question, + he said, “Oh, I see; Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph Dewey, his + son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + The three men, after going a few hundred rods in the direction of the + stream, turned and stood for some minutes looking at the house, and + talking earnestly. Dewey appeared to have the most to say, and + gesticulated quite freely. Then they moved on to that portion of the + stream where the water went gliding down the mimic rapids, and remained + there for a considerable time. It was plain that some scheme was in their + heads, for they took measurement by pacing off the grounds in various + directions; drew together in close conference at times; then separated, + each making some examination for himself; and again stood in close + deliberation. At last, as if satisfied with their investigations, they + returned by way of the mansion, and passed out without calling. + </p> + <p> + “Put that and that together, and there is a meaning in this procedure + beyond the simple rental of the place,” said Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “What is your inference?” asked Mrs. Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + “I have made none as yet,” he replied. “But I will see Judge Bigelow, and + have some talk with him. Of course, I can have nothing to say, adverse to + a requirement of rent. Executors are responsible for the right use of + property in their hands, and must see that it produces an interest, if in + a position to pay anything. You do not, of course, wish to occupy the + whole of these grounds. It may be, that the use of the house, garden, + lawn, and appurtenances, may be secured at a moderate rent. If so, do you + wish to remain?” + </p> + <p> + “I would prefer remaining here, if the rent is within a certain sum.” + </p> + <p> + “Say three hundred dollars?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. If not beyond that sum, I will remain,” replied Mrs. Montgomery. + </p> + <p> + The interview which Mr. Wallingford held with Judge Bigelow a few hours + afterwards, was not satisfactory. The proposition to let Mrs. Montgomery + and her daughter occupy the house, separate from the extensive grounds, + would not be entertained. It finally came out, that an offer to purchase + had been made by the firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., with a view to + the erection of extensive mills, and that the executors were going to ask + the Court for power to sell, as a handsome sum could now be obtained. It + further came out, that in case this power was granted, Mr. Dewey was to + reside in S——, to superintend the erection of these mills, and + afterwards to join Squire Floyd in the management of both establishments—a + consolidation of interests between the mercantile and manufacturing + branches being about to take place. The old mansion was to undergo a + thorough revision, and become the domicile of the resident partner. + </p> + <p> + With these plans in view, the executors insisted upon the removal of Mrs. + Montgomery; and notice as to time was given, which included three months. + Formal application was made to the Court having power in the case, for + authority to sell and re-invest. The reasons for so doing were set forth + in detail, and involved plausible arguments in favor of the heirs whenever + they should be found. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wallingford had personal reasons for not wishing to oppose this + application. The executors had been his friends from boyhood. Especially + towards Judge Bigelow did he entertain sentiments of deep gratitude for + his many favors and kindnesses. But his duty, as counsel to Mrs. + Montgomery, left him no alternative. She was heir prospective to this + property, and he did not believe that the plans in view were best for her + interests, in case no other heir was found. So, he went before the Court, + and opposed the prayer of the executors. In doing so, he gained their + ill-will, but did not succeed in preventing a decree authorizing a sale of + the property. Dewey was present, a deeply interested listener to the + arguments that were advanced on both sides. After the decision, as + Wallingford was passing from the court-room, Dewey, who stood near the + door, talking with a gentleman, said, loud enough for the young lawyer to + hear him. + </p> + <p> + “The hound! He got on the wrong scent that time!” + </p> + <p> + A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he repressed + the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any intimation that the + offensive remark had reached him. + </p> + <p> + As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was made, Mrs. + Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At first she seemed + inclined to favor a return to England; but after repeated conferences with + Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to remain in this country. + </p> + <p> + Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since Mrs. + Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being from cloudland. + The friendly relation established between us in the beginning, had + continued, growing more and more intimate. My good Constance found in her + a woman after her own heart. + </p> + <p> + “The days I spend at the Allen House,” she would often say to me, “are + days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure and + tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her lifts me above + the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, and fills my mind with + longings after those higher things into which all must rise before that + peace comes to the soul which passeth all understanding. I return home + from these interviews, happier in mind, and stronger for life's duties. I + do not know any term that so clearly expresses my idea of this lady, as + Christian philosopher.” + </p> + <p> + Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also were + times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed a certain + elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving sphere about her + after one of these pleasant seasons. + </p> + <p> + The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much as + they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if they were + her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her eighth year, almost + lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came without taking her home with + her, and often kept her for two or three days at a time. + </p> + <p> + Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; yet her + manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. She did not + seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, nor of the + admiration her presence always extorted. No one could meet her, as a + stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from ordinary contact—a + being of superior mould with whom familiarity was presumption. + </p> + <p> + The companion of such a mother, who had with tender solicitude, from + childhood upwards, guarded all the avenues of her mind, lest false + principles or false views of things should find entrance; and as carefully + selected her mental food, in order that there might be health of mind as + well as health of body—it was not surprising to find about her a + solidity and strength of character, that showed itself beneath the sweet + grace of her external life, whenever occasion for their exhibition arose. + From her mother she had imbibed a deep religious sentiment; but this did + not manifest itself so much in language, as in dutiful acts. I had often + occasion to notice, how, almost instinctively, she referred all things to + a superintending Providence; and looked into the future, veiled as it is + to all eyes, with a confidence that every thing would come out right, + beautiful to contemplate. What she meant by right, was something more than + is usually included in the words; for she had learned from her wise + teacher, that God's providence disposes the things of this world for every + individual in a way that serves best his eternal interests; therefore, + what was best in this sense, could not fail to be right. + </p> + <p> + To our deep regret, Mrs. Montgomery decided to change the place of her + residence from S——to Boston. All the reasons that led her to + this decision, I was not able to discover. Her life at the Allen House had + been quite secluded. She had been courteous to all the people with whom + she was brought into any degree of contact, and had reciprocated all + friendly visits; but there was a certain distance between her and them, + that it seemed impossible for either to pass over. One of my inferences + was, that, in removing from the retired old mansion, and taking a modern + house, she would stand out more prominently before all eyes than was + agreeable to her. Be this as it may, she was in earnest about removing to + Boston. + </p> + <p> + I happened to be present when the announcement of this purposed removal + was made to Mr. Wallingford. He had called in, during one of my visits to + Mrs. Montgomery, for the transaction of some business. + </p> + <p> + “To Boston?” he said, in a tone of surprise, and, I thought, + disappointment. At the same time I saw his eyes turned towards Blanche. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I think it will be best,” she replied. “If I have any interests + here, I feel that they are safe in your hands, Mr. Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned a little towards him, and I thought her voice had in it a + softer tone than usual. Her eyes looked steadily into his face. + </p> + <p> + “I will do all that is right, madam.” He spoke a little lower than usual. + </p> + <p> + “And the right is always the best in any case, Mr. Wallingford,” said she + with feeling. + </p> + <p> + “How soon do you think of removing?” the young man inquired. + </p> + <p> + “In three or four weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “So soon.” + </p> + <p> + Again I noticed that his eyes wandered towards Blanche, who sat close to + her mother, with her face bent down and turned partly away. + </p> + <p> + “There is no reason why we should linger in S——, after all + things are ready for removal. It would have suited my feelings and habits + of mind to have remained here; but as this cannot be, I prefer going to + Boston on more than one account.” + </p> + <p> + “You will leave behind you many sincere friends,” said Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + There was more feeling in his voice than usually showed itself; and I + again observed that Mrs. Montgomery, in responding to the remark, fixed + her eyes upon him steadily, and with, I thought, a look of more than usual + interest. + </p> + <p> + The few weeks of preparation glided swiftly away, and then we parted from + friends who had won their way into our own hearts; and whose memory would + ever be to us like the fragrance of holy incense. I learned from Mrs. + Montgomery, before she left us, during a more confidential talk than + usual, that her income was comparatively small, and that the chief part of + this, a pension from Government in acknowledgment of her husband's + services, would cease at her death. There was a momentary failure in her + voice as she said this, and her eyes turned with the instinct of love + towards Blanche. + </p> + <p> + At her desire, Mr. Wallingford attended them to Boston, and remained away + for three or four days. He then returned to S——, bringing with + him kind words from the absent ones. The old routine of life went on + again, each of us taking up the daily duty; yet I think there was not one + of the favored few who had known Mrs. Montgomery and her daughter + intimately, that was not stronger to do right in every trial for the + memory of these true-hearted strangers—no, friends! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. + </h2> + <p> + It was in October when Mrs. Montgomery, after a residence of three years + in the Allen House, went from among us. Old “Aunty,” and another colored + servant who had lived with Mrs. Allen, remained in charge of the mansion. + There was, of course, no removal of furniture, as that belonged to the + estate. Mrs. Montgomery had brought with her three servants from England, + a coachman, footman, and maid. The footman was sent back after he had been + a year in the country; but the coachman and maid still lived with her, and + accompanied her to Boston. + </p> + <p> + The large schemes of men ambitious for gain, will not suffer them to + linger by the way. Ralph Dewey had set his mind on getting possession, + jointly with others, of the valuable Allen property; and as the Court had + granted a decree of sale, he urged upon his father-in-law and uncle an + early day for its consummation. They were in heart, honorable men, but + they had embarked in grand enterprises with at least one dishonest + compeer, and were carried forward by an impulse which they had not the + courage or force of character to resist. They thought that spring would be + the best time to offer the property for sale; but Dewey urged the fall as + more consonant with their views, and so the sale was fixed for the first + day of November. Notice was given in the country papers, and Dewey engaged + to see that the proposed sale was duly advertised in Boston and New York. + He managed, however, to omit that part of his duty. + </p> + <p> + On the day of sale, quite a company of curious people assembled at the + Allen House, but when the property was offered, only a single bid was + offered. That came from Dewey, as the representative of Floyd, Lawson, Lee + & Co., and it was awarded to them for the sum of thirty-five thousand + dollars, a little more than half its real value. + </p> + <p> + From that time until spring opened, all remained quiet. Then began the + busy hum of preparation, and great things for our town foreshadowed + themselves. A hundred men went to work on the site chosen for a new mill, + digging, blasting, and hauling; while carpenters and masons were busy in + and around the old mansion, with a view to its thorough renovation, as the + future residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. That gentleman was on the ground, + moving about with a self-sufficient air, and giving his orders in a tone + of authority that most of the work people felt to be offensive. + </p> + <p> + The antiquated furniture in the Allen House, rich though it was in style + and finish, would not suit our prospective millionaire, and it was all + sent to auction. From the auctioneers, it was scattered among the town's + people, who obtained some rare bargains. An old French secretary came into + my possession, at the cost of ten dollars—the original owner could + not have paid less than a hundred. It was curiously inlaid with satin + wood, and rich in quaint carvings. There seemed to be no end to the + discoveries I was continually making among its intricate series of + drawers, pigeon holes, slides, and hidden receptacles. But some one had + preceded me in the examination, and had removed all the papers and + documents it contained. It flashed across my mind, as I explored the mazes + of this old piece of furniture, that it might contain, in some secret + drawer, another will. This thought caused the blood to leap along my + veins, my cheeks to burn, and my hands to tremble. I renewed the + examination, at first hurriedly; then with order and deliberation, taking + out each drawer, and feeling carefully all around the cavity left by its + removal, in the hope of touching some hidden spring. But the search was + fruitless. One drawer perplexed me considerably. I could not pull it clear + out, nor get access above or below to see how closely the various + partitions and compartments came up to its sides, top, and bottom. After + working with it for some time, I gave up the search, and my enthusiasm in + this direction soon died out. I smiled to myself many times afterwards, in + thinking of the idle fancy which for a time possessed me. + </p> + <p> + In May, the furnishing of the renovated house began. This took nearly a + month. Every thing was brought from New York. Car loads of enormous boxes, + bales, and articles not made up into packages, were constantly arriving at + the depot, and being conveyed to the Allen House—the designation + which the property retains even to this day. The furniture was of the + richest kind—the carpets, curtains, and mirrors, princely in + elegance. When all was ready for the proud owners to come in and enjoy + their splendid home, it was thrown open for examination and admiration. + All S——went to see the show, and wander in dreamy amazement + through parlors, halls, and chambers. I went with the rest. The change + seemed like the work of magic. I could with difficulty make out the old + landmarks. The spacious rooms, newly painted and decked out in rich, + modern furniture, looked still more spacious. In place of the whitewashed + ceilings and dingy papered walls, graceful frescoes spread their light + figures, entrancing the eyes with their marvelous semblances. The great + hall received you with a statelier formality than before; for it, too, had + received also its gift of painting, and its golden broideries. As you + passed from room to room, you said—“This is the palace of a prince—not + the abode of a citizen.” + </p> + <p> + The grounds around the mansion had been subject to as thorough a + renovation as the mansion itself. The old gate had given place to one of + larger proportions, and more imposing design. A new carriage-road swept + away in a grander curve from the gate to the dwelling. Substantial + stone-stabling had been torn down in order to erect a fanciful + carriage-house, built in imitation of a Swiss cottage; which, from its + singular want of harmony with the principal buildings, stood forth a + perpetual commentary upon the false taste of the upstart owner. + </p> + <p> + I hardly think that either Mr. Dewey or his wife would have been much + flattered by the general tone of remark that ran through the curious + crowds that lingered in the elegant rooms, or inspected the improvements + outside. Nobody liked him; and as for his wife, fashionable associations + had so spoiled her, that not a single old friend retained either affection + or respect. It was sad to think that three years of a false life could so + entirely obliterate the good qualities that once blossomed in her soul + with such a sweet promise of golden fruitage. + </p> + <p> + Early in June, the family of Mr. Dewey took possession of their new home, + and the occasion was celebrated by a splendid entertainment, the cost of + which, common rumor said, was over two thousand dollars. We—Constance + and I—were among the invited guests. It was a festive scene, + brilliant and extravagant beyond anything we had ever witnessed, and quite + bewildering to minds like ours. Mrs. Dewey was dressed like a queen, and + radiant in pearls and diamonds. I questioned her good taste in this, as + hostess; and think she knew better—but the temptation to astonish + the good people of S——was too strong to be resisted. + </p> + <p> + After the curtain fell on this brilliant spectacle, Mrs. Dewey assumed a + stately air, showing, on all occasions, a conscious superiority that was + offensive to our really best people. There are in all communities a class + who toady to the rich; and we had a few of these in S——. They + flattered the Deweys, and basked in the sunshine of their inflated + grandeur. + </p> + <p> + I was not one towards whom Mrs. Dewey put on superior airs. My profession + brought me into a kind of relation to her that set aside all pretence. + Very soon after her removal to S——, my services were required + in the family, one of her two children having been attacked with measles. + On the occasion of my first call, I referred, naturally, to the fact of + her removal from New York, and asked how she liked the change. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it all, Doctor,” she replied, in a dissatisfied tone. + </p> + <p> + “Could heart desire more of elegance and comfort than you possess?” I + glanced around the richly decorated apartment in which we were seated. + </p> + <p> + “Gilded misery, Doctor!” She emphasized her words. + </p> + <p> + I looked at her without speaking. She understood my expression of + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I need not tell you, Doctor, that a fine house and fine furniture are not + everything in this world.” + </p> + <p> + I thought her waking up to a better state of mind, through the + irrepressible yearnings of a soul that could find no sustenance amid the + husks of this outer life. + </p> + <p> + “They go but a little way towards making up the aggregate of human + happiness,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “All well enough in their place. But, to my thinking, sadly out of place + here. We must have society, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “True.” My voice was a little rough. I had mistaken her. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no society here!” And she tossed her head a little + contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Not much fashionable society I will grant you, Delia.” + </p> + <p> + She pursed up her lips and looked disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + “I shall die of ennui before six months. What am I to do with myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Act like a true woman,” said I, firmly. + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyes suddenly to my face as if I had presumed. + </p> + <p> + “Do your duty as a wife and mother,” I added, “and there will be no danger + of your dying with ennui.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak as if I were derelict in this matter.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up with some dignity of manner. + </p> + <p> + “I merely prescribed a remedy for a disease from which you are suffering,” + said I, calmly. “Thousands of women scattered all over the land are + martyrs to this disease; and there is only one remedy—that which I + offer to you, Delia.” + </p> + <p> + I think she saw, from my manner, that it would be useless to quarrel with + me. I was so much in earnest that truth came to my lips in any attempt at + utterance. + </p> + <p> + “What would you have me do, Doctor?” There was a petty fretfulness in her + voice. “Turn cook or nursery-maid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, rather than sit idle, and let your restless mind fret itself for + want of useful employment into unhappiness.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot take your prescription in that crude form,” she replied, with + more seriousness than I had expected. + </p> + <p> + “It is not requisite to a cure,” said I. “Only let your thought and + purpose fall into the sphere of home. Think of your husband as one to be + made happier by your personal control of such household matters as touch + his comfort; of your babes as tender, precious things, blessed by your + sleepless care, or hurt by your neglect; of your domestics, as requiring + orderly supervision, lest they bring discord into your home, or waste your + substance. Every household, Delia, is a little government, and the + governor must be as watchful over all its concerns as the governor of a + state. Take, then, the reins of office firmly into your hands, dispose of + everything according to the best of your judgment, and require orderly + obedience from every subject. But act wisely and kindly. Do this, my young + friend, and you will not be troubled with the fashionable complaint—ennui.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, sink down into a mere housekeeper,” she remarked; “weigh out the + flour, count the eggs, fill the sugar bowls, and grow learned in + cookery-books. I think I see myself wandering about from cellar to garret, + jingling a great bunch of keys, prying into rubbish-corners, and scolding + lazy cooks and idle chambermaids!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a short, artificial laugh, and then added— + </p> + <p> + “Is that the picture of what you mean, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the picture of a happier woman than you are, Delia,” said I, + seriously. + </p> + <p> + The suggestion seemed to startle her. + </p> + <p> + “You speak very confidently, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “With the confidence of one who makes diseases and their cure his study. I + know something of the human soul as well as the human body, and of the + maladies to which both are subjected. A cure is hopeless in either case, + unless the patient will accept the remedy. Pain of body is the indicator + of disease, and gives warning that an enemy to life has found a lodgment; + pain of mind is the same phenomenon, only showing itself in a higher + sphere, and for the same purpose. If you are unhappy, surrounded by all + this elegance, and with the means of gratifying every orderly wish, it + shows that an enemy to your soul has entered through some unguarded + gateway. You cannot get rid of this enemy by any change of place, or by + any new associations. Society will not help you. The excitement of shows; + gauds, glitter, pageants; the brief triumphs gained in fashionable + tournaments, will not expel this foe of your higher and nobler life, but + only veil, for brief seasons, his presence from your consciousness. When + these are past, and you retire into yourself, then comes back the pain, + the languor, the excessive weariness. Is it not so, Delia? Is not this + your sad experience?” + </p> + <p> + I paused. Her eyes had fallen to the floor. She sat very still, like one + who was thinking deeply. + </p> + <p> + “The plodding housekeeper, whose picture you drew just now—humble, + even mean in your regard though she be—sinks to peaceful sleep when + her tasks are done, and rises refreshed at coming dawn. If she is happier + than your fine lady, whose dainty hands cannot bear the soil of these + common things, why? Ponder this subject, Delia. It concerns you deeply. It + is the happiest state in life that we all strive to gain; but you may lay + it up in your heart as immutable truth, that happiness never comes to any + one, except through a useful employment of all the powers which God has + given to us. The idle are the most miserable—and none are more + miserable in their ever-recurring ennuied hours, than your fashionable + idlers. We see them only in their holiday attire, tricked out for show, + and radiant in reflected smiles. Alas! If we could go back with them to + their homes, and sit beside them, unseen, in their lonely hours, would not + pity fill our hearts? My dear young friend! Turn your feet aside from this + way—it is the path that leads to unutterable wretchedness.” + </p> + <p> + The earnestness of my manner added force to what I said, and constrained + at least a momentary conviction. + </p> + <p> + “You speak strongly, Doctor,” she said, with the air of one who could not + look aside from an unpleasant truth. + </p> + <p> + “Not too strongly, Delia. Is it not as I have said? Are not your mere + society-ladies too often miserable at home?” + </p> + <p> + She sighed heavily, as if unpleasant images were forcing themselves upon + her mind. I felt that I might follow up the impression I had made, and + resumed: + </p> + <p> + “There was a time, Delia—and it lies only three or four short years + backward on your path of life—when I read in your opening mind a + promise of higher things than have yet been attained—you must pardon + the freedom of an old but true friend. A time when thought, taste, feeling + were all building for themselves a habitation, the stones whereof were + truths, and the decorations within and without pure and good affections. + All this”—I glanced at the rich furniture, mirrors, and curtains—“is + poor and mean to that dwelling place of the soul, the foundations for + which you once commenced laying. Are you happier now than then? Have the + half bewildering experiences through which you have passed satisfied you + that you are in the right way? That life's highest blessings are to be + found in these pageantries? Think, think, my dear young friend! Look + inwards. Search into your heart, and try the quality of its motives. + Examine the foundation upon which you are building, and if it is sand, in + heaven's name stop, and look for solid earth on which to place the corner + stone of your temple of happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “You bewilder me, Doctor,” she said, in reply to this. “I can't think, I + can't look inwards. If I am building on a sandy foundation, God help me!—for + I cannot turn back to search for the solid earth of which you speak.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + She raised her hand and said, + </p> + <p> + “Spare me, Doctor. I know you are truthful and sincere—a friend who + may be trusted—but you cannot see as I see, nor know as I know. I + have chosen my way, and must walk in it, even to the end, let it terminate + as it will. I had once a dream of other things—a sweet, entrancing + dream while it lasted—but to me it can never be more than a dream. + There are quiet, secluded, peaceful ways in life, and happy are they who + are content to walk in them. But they are not for my feet, and I do not + envy those who hide themselves in tranquil valleys, or linger on the + distant hill-slopes. The crowd, the hum, the shock of social life for me!” + </p> + <p> + “But this you cannot have in S——. And is it not the part of a + wise woman—” + </p> + <p> + “Again, Doctor, let me beg of you to spare me.” she said, lifting her + hands, and turning her face partly away. “I only half comprehend you, and + am hurt and disturbed by your well-meant suggestions. I am not a wise + woman, in your sense of the word, and cannot take your admonitions to + heart. Let us talk of something else.” + </p> + <p> + And she changed the subject, as well as her whole manner and expression of + countenance, with a promptness that surprised me; showing the existence of + will and self-control that in a right direction would have given her large + power for good. + </p> + <p> + It was the first and last time I ventured to speak with her so freely. + Always afterwards, when we met, there was an impression of uneasiness on + her part, as if she had an unpleasant remembrance, or feared that I would + venture upon some disagreeable theme. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + Steadily, under the busy hands of hundreds of workmen, the new buildings + arose, stretching their far lengths along, and towering up, story after + story. Steam, in addition to water power, was contemplated here also, for + the looms and spindles to be driven were nearly twice the number contained + in the other mill. + </p> + <p> + Disappointments and vexatious delays nearly always attend large building + operations, and the present case formed no exception. The time within + which everything was to be completed, and the mill to go into operation, + was one year. Two years elapsed before the first bale of goods came + through its ample doors, ready for market. + </p> + <p> + Of course there was a large expenditure of money in S——, and + this was a great thing for our town. Property rose in value, houses were + built, and the whole community felt that a new era had dawned—an era + of growth and prosperity. Among other signs of advancement, was the + establishment of a new Bank. The “Clinton Bank” it was called. The charter + had been obtained through the influence of Judge Bigelow, who had several + warm personal friends in the Legislature. There was not a great deal of + loose money in S——to flow easily into bank stocks; but for all + that the shares were soon taken, and all the provisions of the charter + complied with. Judge Bigelow subscribed freely; so did Squire Floyd and + Mr. Dewey. Other townsmen, to the number of twenty or thirty, put down + their names for a few shares. It was from New York, however, that the + largest subscriptions came; and it was New York shareholders, voting by + proxy, who elected the Board of Directors, and determined the choice of + officers. Judge Bigelow was elected President, and a Mr. Joshua King, from + New York, Cashier. The tellers and book-keepers were selected from among + our own people. + </p> + <p> + The Clinton Bank and the new mills went into operation about the same + time. Years of prosperity followed. Money was plenty in our town, and + everybody was growing better off. Dewey was still the manufacturing + partner of the large house in New York, whose demand for goods it seemed + impossible to satisfy. He was a great man in S——. People spoke + of him as possessing vast mental as well as money resources; as having + expansive views of trade and finance; as being a man of extraordinary + ability. I listened to all these things as I passed around among our + citizens, plodding along in my profession, and managing to grow just a + little better off each year; and wondered within myself if I were really + mistaken in the man—if there was a solid basis of right judgment + below all this splendid seeming. + </p> + <p> + And what of our friend Wallingford, during those busy years? Like myself, + he moved so quietly through his round of professional duties, as to + attract little attention. But he had been growing in all this time—growing + in mental stature; and growing in the confidence of all just men. Judge + Bigelow's interest in the mills, and in the new Bank, drew his attention + so much away from his law cases, that clients began to grow dissatisfied, + and this threw a great deal of excellent business into the hands of + Wallingford, who, if not always successful in his cases, so managed them + as to retain the confidence and good will of all who employed him. He got + the character in our town of a safe adviser. If a man had a difficulty + with a neighbor, and talked of going to law with him, in all probability + some one would say— + </p> + <p> + “Go to Mr. Wallingford; he will tell you, on the spot, if there is any + chance for you in Court.” + </p> + <p> + And he bore this character justly. A thorn in the side he had proved to + the three great mill owners, Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph Dewey. + The two former failed entirely, in his view, as to the right steps for + discovering the heirs to the large property in their hands, all of which + had been changed from its original position; while the latter showed + ill-feeling whenever Wallingford, as he continued to do, at stated + intervals, filed interrogatories, and required answers as to the condition + of the trust, and the prospects of finding heirs. + </p> + <p> + Ten years had elapsed since the discovery of Mr. Allen's will, and yet no + heirs had presented themselves. And now Mr. Wallingford took formal issue + in the case, and demanded the property for his client, Mrs. Montgomery, + who was still living in Boston with her daughter, in a retired way. Nearly + one-half of her income had been cut off, and her circumstances were, in + consequence, greatly reduced. Her health was feeble, having steadily + declined since her removal from S——. An occasional letter + passed between her and my wife; and it was in this way that I learned of + her health and condition. How free was all she wrote from repining or + despondency—how full of Christian faith, hope, and patience! You + could not read one of her letters without growing stronger for the right—without + seeing the world as through a reversed telescope. + </p> + <p> + A time was fixed for hearing the case, which, now that it assumed this + important shape, excited great interest among the people of S——. + When the matter came fairly into court, Mr. Wallingford presented his + clearly arranged documentary evidence, in proof of Mrs. Montgomery's + identity as the sister of Captain Allen, and claimed the property as hers. + He covered, in anticipation, every possible ground of objection; bringing + forward, at the same time, such an array of precedents and decisions + bearing upon the case, that it was clear to every one on which side the + decision would lie. + </p> + <p> + At this important juncture a letter, post-marked in New York on the day + before, was offered in court, and a demand, based on its contents, made + for a stay of proceedings. It came from the Spanish Consul, and was + addressed to Abel Bigelow and John Floyd, executors of the late Captain + Allen, and notified them that he had just received letters from San Juan + De Porto Rico, containing information as to the existence of an heir to + the estate in the person of a boy named Leon Garcia, nephew to the late + Mrs. Allen. The case was immediately laid over until the next term of + court. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, steps were promptly taken to ascertain the truth of this + assumption. An agent was sent out to the island of Porto Rico, who brought + back all the proofs needed to establish the claim, and also the lad + himself, who was represented to be in his fourteenth year. He was a + coarse, wicked-looking boy, who, it was plain, had not yet fully awakened + to a realizing sense of the good fortune that awaited him. + </p> + <p> + A resolute opposition was made by Wallingford, but all the evidence + adduced to prove Leon Garcia's relationship to Mrs. Allen was too clear, + and so the court dismissed the case, and appointed Ralph Dewey as guardian + to the boy, who was immediately placed at school in a neighboring town. + </p> + <p> + So ended this long season of suspense. Immediately on the decision of the + case, Wallingford went to Boston to see Mrs. Montgomery, and remained + absent nearly a week. I saw him soon after his return. + </p> + <p> + “How did she bear this final dashing of her hopes to the earth?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “As any one who knew her well might have expected,” he answered, with so + little apparent feeling that I thought him indifferent. + </p> + <p> + “As a Christian philosopher,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “You make use of exactly the right words,” he remarked. “Yes, as a + Christian philosopher. As one who thinks and reasons as well as feels. I + have seen a great many so-called religious people in my time. People who + had much to say about their-spiritual experiences and hopes of heaven. But + never one who so made obedience to the strict law of right, in all its + plain, common-sense interpretations, a matter of common duty. I do not + believe that for anything this world could offer her, Mrs. Montgomery + would swerve a hair's breadth from justice. I have been in the position to + see her tempted; have, myself, been the tempter over and over again during + the ten years in which I represented her claims to the Allen estate; but + her principles were immovable as the hills. Once, I shall never forget the + incident—I pressed her to adopt a certain course of procedure, + involving a law quibble, in order to get possession of the property. She + looked at me for a moment or two, with a flushing face. Then her + countenance grew serene, almost heavenly, and she gave me this memorable + reply—'Mr. Wallingford, I have a richer estate than this in + expectancy, and cannot mar the title.' And she has not marred it, Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “How did her daughter receive the news?” I inquired. I thought he turned + his face a little away, as he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Not so well as her mother.” I knew his voice was lower. “When I announced + the fact that the claims of young Garcia had been admitted by the court, + tears sprung to her eyes, and a shadow fell upon her countenance such as I + have never seen there before.” + </p> + <p> + “She is younger and less disciplined,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Few at her age,” he answered, “are so well disciplined” + </p> + <p> + “Will they still remain in Boston?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for the present,” he answered, and we parted. A few months after + this, my wife said to me one day, + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear that Mr. Wallingford had bought the pretty little cottage on + Cedar Lane, where Jacob Homer lived?” + </p> + <p> + “Is that true?” + </p> + <p> + “It is said so. In fact, I heard it from Jane Homer, and that is pretty + good authority.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he going to live there with his mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Jane did not know. Her husband went behind hand the year he built the + cottage, and never was able to get up even with the world. So they + determined to sell their place, pay off their debts, and find contentment + in a rented house. Mr. Homer said something to Mr. Wallingford on the + subject, and he offered to buy the property at a fair price.” + </p> + <p> + A few days afterwards, in passing along Cedar Lane, I noticed a carpenter + at work in the pretty cottage above referred to; and also a gardener who + was trimming the shrubbery. + </p> + <p> + Good morning, William, “I spoke to the gardener with whom I was well + acquainted. This is a nice cozy place.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed and it is, Doctor. Mr. Homer took great pride in it.” + </p> + <p> + “And showed much taste in gardening.” + </p> + <p> + “You may well say that, Doctor. There isn't a finer shrubbery to any + garden in S——.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Wallingford going to live here, or does he intend renting the + cottage?” + </p> + <p> + “That's more than I can answer, Doctor. Mr. Wallingford isn't the man, you + know, to talk with everybody about his affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “True enough, William,” said I smiling and passed on. + </p> + <p> + “Did you know,” said my wife, a few weeks later, “that Mr. Wallingford was + furnishing the cottage on Cedar Lane?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Is that so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Mrs. Dean told me that Jones the cabinet maker had the order, which + was completed, and that the furniture was now going in. Everything, she + says, is plain and neat, but good.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what can this mean, Constance? Is our young friend about to marry?” + </p> + <p> + “It has a look that way, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “But who is the bride to be?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Dean thinks it is Florence Williams.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine girl; but hardly worthy of Henry Wallingford. Besides, he is ten + year her senior,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “What is the difference in our ages, dear?” Constance turned her fresh + young face to mine—fresh and young still, though more than + thirty-five years had thrown across it their lights and shadows, and laid + her head fondly against my breast. + </p> + <p> + I kissed her tenderly, and she answered her own question. + </p> + <p> + “Ten years; and you are not so much my senior. I do not see any force in + that objection. Still if I had been commissioned to select a wife for Mr. + Wallingford, I would not have chosen Florence Williams.” + </p> + <p> + “Her father is well off, and growing richer every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Worth taking into the account, I suppose, as one of the reasons in favor + of the choice,” said my wife. “But I hardly think Wallingford is the man + to let that consideration have much influence.” + </p> + <p> + There was no mistake about the matter of furnishing Ivy Cottage, as the + place was called. I saw carpets going in on the very next day. All the + shrubbery had been trimmed, the grounds cleared up and put in order, and + many choice flowers planted in borders already rich in floral treasures. + </p> + <p> + Curiosity now began to flutter its wings, lift up its head, and look + around sharply. Many arrows had taken their flight towards the heart of + our young bachelor lawyer, but, until now, there had been no evidence of a + wound. What fair maiden had conquered at last? I met him not long after, + walking in the street with Florence Williams. She looked smiling and + happy; and his face was brighter than I had ever seen it. This confirmed + to me the rumor. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wallingford was not to be approached on the subject. If she knew of + an intended marriage, she feigned ignorance; and affected not to + understand the hints, questions, and surmises of curious neighbors. + </p> + <p> + A week or two later, and I missed Wallingford from his office. The lad in + attendance said that he was away from the town, but would return in a few + days. + </p> + <p> + “I have a surprise for you,” said my wife on that very afternoon. She had + a letter in her hand just received by post. Her whole face was radiant + with pleasure. Drawing a card from the envelope, she held it before my + eyes. I read the names of <i>Henry Wallingford</i> and <i>Blanche + Montgomery</i>, and the words, “At home Wednesday evening, June 15th. Ivy + Cottage.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” I exclaimed, as soon as a momentary bewilderment passed, showing + more than my wonted enthusiasm. “The best match since Hymen linked our + fates together, Constance.” + </p> + <p> + “May it prove as happy a one!” my wife answered, with a glance of + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “It will, Constance—it will. That is a marriage after my own heart; + one that I have, now and then, dimly foreshadowed in imagination, but + never thought to see.” + </p> + <p> + “It is over five years since we saw Blanche,” remarked Constance. “I + wonder how she looks! If life's sunshine and rain have produced a rich + harvest in her soul, or only abraded the surface, and marred the sweet + beauty that captivated us of old! I wonder how she has borne the shadowing + of earthly prospects—the change from luxurious surroundings!” + </p> + <p> + “They have not dimmed the virgin gold; you may be sure of that, + Constance,” was my reply to this. + </p> + <p> + “At home, Wednesday evening, June fifteenth.” + </p> + <p> + And this was Tuesday. Only a single day intervened. And yet it seemed like + a week in anticipation, so eager did we grow for the promised re-union + with friends whose memory was in our hearts as the sound of pleasant + music. + </p> + <p> + It was eight o'clock, on Wednesday evening, when we entered Ivy Cottage, + our hearts beating with quickened strokes under their burden of pleasant + anticipation. What a queenly woman stood revealed to us, as we entered the + little parlor! I would hardly have known her as the almost shrinking girl + from whom we parted not many years before. How wonderfully she had + developed! Figure, face, air, manner, attitude—all showed the woman + of heart, mind, and purpose. Yet, nothing struck you as masculine; but + rather as exquisitely feminine. It took but one glance at her serene face, + to solve the query as to whether there had been a free gift of heart as + well as hand. My eyes turned next to the pale, thin face of Mrs. + Montgomery, who sat, or half reclined, in a large cushioned chair. She was + looking at her daughter. That expression of blended love and pride, will + it ever cease to be a sweet picture in my memory? All was right—I + saw that in the first instant of time. + </p> + <p> + The reception was not a formal one. There was no display of orange + blossoms, airy veils, and glittering jewels—but a simple welcoming + of a few old friends, who had come to heart-congratulations. It was the + happiest bridal reception—always excepting the one in which my + Constance wore the orange wreath—that I had ever seen. Do you + inquire of Wallingford, as to how he looked and seemed? Worthy of the + splendid woman who stood by his side and leaned towards him with such a + sweet assurance. How beautiful it was to see the proud look with which she + turned her eyes upon him, whenever he spoke! It was plain, that to her, + his words had deeper meanings in them, than came to other ears. + </p> + <p> + “It is all right, I see.” I had drawn a chair close to the one in which + Mrs. Montgomery sat, and was holding in mine the thin, almost shadowy hand + which she had extended. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is all right, Doctor,” she answered, as a smile lit up her pale + face. “All right, and I am numbered among the happiest of mothers. He is + not titled, nor rich, nor noble in the vulgar sense—but titled, and + rich, and noble as God gives rank and wealth. I came to this land of + promise ten years ago, in search of an estate for my child; and I have + found it, at last. Ah, Doctor”—and site glanced upwards as she spoke—“His + ways are not as our ways. And if we will only trust in Him, He will bring + such things to pass, as never entered into the imagination of our hearts. + I did not dream of this man as the husband of my child, when I gave my + business into his care. The remote suggestion of such a thing would have + offended me; for my heart was full of false pride, though I knew it not. + But there was a destiny for Blanche, foreshadowed for me then, but not + seen.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the quality of the man,” I said, “that determines the quality of + the marriage. She who weds best, weds the truest man. The rank and wealth + are of the last consideration. To make them first, is the blindest folly + of the blindest.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if this were but rightly understood”—said Mrs. Montgomery—“what + new lives would people begin to live in the world! How the shadows that + dwell among so many households—even those of the fairest external + seeming—would begin to lift themselves upward and roll away, letting + in the sunlight and filling the chambers of discord with heavenly music! I + have sometimes thought, that more than half the misery which curses the + world springs from discordant marriages.” + </p> + <p> + “The estimate is low,” I answered. “If you had said two-thirds, you would + have been, perhaps, nearer the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Blanche crossed the room, and came and stood by her mother's chair, + looking down into her face with a loving smile. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid the journey has been too much for you,” she said, with a + shadow of concern in her face. + </p> + <p> + “You look paler than usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Paler, because a little fatigued, dear. But a night's rest will bring me + up even again,” Mrs. Montgomery replied cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “How is the pain in your side, now?” asked Blanche, still with a look of + concern. + </p> + <p> + “Easier. I scarcely notice it now.” + </p> + <p> + “Blanche is over anxious about my health, dear girl!” said Mrs. + Montgomery, as the bride moved to another part of the room. “She thinks me + failing rapidly. And, without doubt, the foundations of this earthly house + are giving way; but I trust, that ere it fall into ruin, a house not made + with hands, eternal, in the heavens, will be ready for my reception.” + </p> + <p> + There was no depressing solemnity in her tones, as she thus alluded to + that event which comes to all; but a smiling cheerfulness of manner that + was contagious. + </p> + <p> + “You think of death as a Christian,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And how else should I think of it?” she replied. “Can I not trust Him in + whom I have believed? What is it more than passing from a lower to a + higher state of life—from the natural to the spiritual world? When + the hour comes, I will lay me down in peace and sleep.” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent for some moments, her thoughts apparently indrawn. The + brief, closing sentence was spoken as if she were lapsing into reverie. I + thought the subject hardly in place for a wedding occasion, and was about + starting another theme, when she said— + </p> + <p> + “Do you not think, Doctor, that this dread of dying, which haunts most + people like a fearful spectre—the good as well as the bad—is a + very foolish thing? We are taught, from childhood, to look forward to + death as the greatest of all calamities; as a change attended by + indefinable terrors. Teachers and preachers ring in our ears the same + dread chimes, thrilling the strongest nerves and appalling the stoutest + hearts. Death is pictured to us as a grim monster; and we shudder as we + look at the ghastly apparition. Now, all this comes from what is false. + Death is not the crowning evil of our lives; but the door through which we + pass, tranquilly, into that eternal world, which is our destined home. I + hold in my thought a different picture of Death from that which affrighted + me in childhood. The form is one of angelic beauty, and the countenance + full of love. I know, that when I pass along the dark and narrow way that + leads from this outer world of nature, to the inner world from which it + has existence, that my hand will rest firmly in that of an angel, + commissioned of God to guide my peaceful footsteps. Is not that a better + faith?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a better and a truer,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It is not the death passage that we need fear. That has in it no + intrinsic evil. It is the sleep of mortality, and the rest is sweet to + all. If we give place to fear, let it be for that state beyond the bourne, + which will be unhappy in the degree that we are lovers of self and the + world—that is, lovers of evil instead of good. As the tree falls, so + it lies, Doctor. As our quality is at death, so will it remain to all + eternity. Here is the just occasion for dread.” + </p> + <p> + She would have kept on, but her attention was drawn away by the remark of + a lady who came up at the moment. I left her side and passed to another + part of the room; but her words, tone, and impressive manner remained with + me. I turned my eyes often during the evening upon her pale, pure face, + which seemed like a transparent veil through which the spirit half + revealed itself. How greatly she had changed in five years! There had been + trial and discipline; and she had come up from them purer for the ordeal. + The flesh had failed; but the spirit had taken on strength and beauty. + </p> + <p> + “How did Mrs. Montgomery impress you?” said I to my wife, as we sat down + together on our return home. + </p> + <p> + “As one ready to be translated,” she answered. “I was at a loss to + determine which was the most beautiful, she or Blanche.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot make a comparison between them as to beauty,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Not as to beauty in the same degree. The beauty of Blanche was queenly; + that of her mother angelic. All things lovely in nature were collated, and + expressed themselves in the younger as she stood blushing in the ripeness + of her charms; while all things lovely in the soul beamed forth from the + countenance of the elder. And so, as I have said, I was at a loss to + determine which was most beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + I was just rising from my early breakfast on the next morning when I + received a hurried message from Ivy Cottage. The angel of Death had been + there. Tenderly and lovingly had he taken the hand of Mrs. Montgomery, and + led her through the gate that opens into the land of immortals. She + received her daughter's kiss at eleven o'clock, held her for some moments, + gazing into her face, and then said—“Good-night, my precious one! + Good-night, and God bless you!” At seven in the morning she was found + lying in bed with a smile on her face, but cold and lifeless as marble! + There had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. + </h2> + <p> + No;—there had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. As a child + falls asleep in its mother's arms, so fell Mrs. Montgomery asleep in the + arms of an angel—tranquil, peaceful, happy. I say happy—for in + lapsing away into that mortal sleep, of which our natural sleep is but an + image, shall the world-weary who have in trial and suffering grown + heavenly minded, sink into unconsciousness with less of tranquil delight + than the babe pillowed against its mother's bosom? I think not. + </p> + <p> + As I gazed upon her dead face, where the parting soul had left its sign of + peace, I prayed that, when I passed from my labors, there might be as few + stains of earth upon my garments. + </p> + <p> + “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, Yea, saith the Spirit, for they + rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.” + </p> + <p> + I found myself repeating these holy words, as I stood looking at the + white, shrunken features of the departed. + </p> + <p> + It was not until the next day that I saw Blanche. But Constance was with + her immediately after the sad news jarred upon her sympathizing heart. + </p> + <p> + “How did you leave her?” was my anxious query, on meeting my wife at home. + </p> + <p> + “Calm,” was the brief answer. + </p> + <p> + How much the word included! + </p> + <p> + “Did you talk with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a great deal; she did not seem inclined to talk, like some who seek + relief through expression. I found her alone in the room next to the one + in which the body of her mother was lying. She was sitting by a table, + with one hand pressed over her eyes, as I entered. 'Oh, my friend! my dear + friend!' she said, in a tone of grief, rising and coming a step or two to + meet me. I drew my arms around her, and she laid her head against me and + sobbed three or four times, while the tears ran down and dropped upon the + floor. 'It is well with her!' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, yes, my friend, it is well with her,' she answered, mournfully, + 'well with her, but not with me. How shall I walk onward in life's + difficult ways, without my mother's arm to lean upon? My steps already + hesitate.' + </p> + <p> + “'You have another arm to lean upon,' I ventured to suggest. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, a strong arm upon which I can lean in unfaltering trust. In this + God has been good to me. But my wise, patient mother—how shall I + live without her?' + </p> + <p> + “'She is only removed from you as to bodily presence,' said I. 'Love + conjoins your souls as intimately as ever.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ah, yes, I know this must be. Too many times have I heard that + comforting truth from her lips ever to forget it. But while we are in the + body, the mind will not rest satisfied with any thing less than bodily + presence.' + </p> + <p> + “I did not press the point, for I knew that in all sorrow the heart is its + own best comforter, and gathers for itself themes of consolation that even + the nearest friend would fail to suggest. We went in together to look at + the frail tabernacle from which the pure spirit of her mother had departed + forever! How sweetly the smile left upon the lips in the last kiss of + parting, lingered there still, fixed in human marble with more than a + sculptor's art! There was no passionate weeping, as we stood by the + lifeless clay. Very calm and silent she was; but oh, what a look of + intense love went out from her sad eyes! Not despairing but hopeful love. + The curtain of death hid from her no land of shadows and mystery; but a + world of spiritual realities. Her mother had not gone shrinking and + trembling into regions of darkness and doubt; but in the blessed assurance + of a peaceful reception in the house of her friends. + </p> + <p> + “How a true faith,” said I, strongly impressed by the images which were + presented to my mind, “strips from death its old terrors! When the Apostle + exclaimed, 'Oh, grave, where is thy victory? oh, death, where is thy + sting?' his mind looked deeper into the mystery of dying, and saw farther + into the world beyond, than do our modern Christians, who frighten us with + images of terror. 'I will lay me down in peace and sleep,' when the time + of my departure comes, should be the heart-language of every one who takes + upon himself the name of Him who said, 'In my Father's house are many + mansions. I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am, ye may be + also.'” + </p> + <p> + “Since I knew Mrs. Montgomery, and felt the sphere of her quality,” said + Constance, “my perceptions of life and duty here, and their connection + with life and happiness hereafter, have been elevated to a higher region. + I see no longer as in a glass darkly, but in the light of reason, made + clear by the more interior light of Revelation.” + </p> + <p> + “And the same is true with me,” I replied. “We may well say that it was + good to have known her. She was so true, so just, so unconscious of self, + that truth, justice, and unselfishness were always lovelier in your eyes + for having seen them illustrated in her person. And there was no pious + cant about her. No parade of her unworthiness; no solemn aspects, nor + obtrusive writings of bitter things against herself. But always an effort + to repress what was evil in her nature; and a state of quiet, religious + trust, which said, 'I know in whom I have believed.'” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Constance, “if there was only more of such religion in the + world!” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a happier world than it is,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “By the impress of a life like hers, what lasting good is done!” said my + wife. “Such are the salt of the earth. Cities set upon hills. Lights in + candlesticks. They live not in vain!'” + </p> + <p> + I did not see Blanche until the day of burial. Her beautiful face was + calm, but very pale. It bore strongly the impress of sorrow, but not of + that hopeless sorrow which we so often see on these mournful occasions. It + was very plain that her thoughts were not lingering around the shrouded + and coffined form of what was once her mother's body, but were following + her into the world beyond our mortal vision, as we follow a dear friend + who has gone from us on a long journey. + </p> + <p> + And thus it was that Blanche Montgomery entered upon her new life. Death's + shadow fell upon the torch of Hymen. There was a rain of grief just as the + sun of love poured forth his brightest beams, and the bow which spanned + the horizon gave, in that hour of grief, sweet promise for the future. + </p> + <p> + These exciting events in the experience of our young friends had come upon + us so suddenly, that our minds were half bewildered. A few weeks served, + however, to bring all things into a right adjustment with our own daily + life and thought, and Ivy Cottage became one of the places that grew + dearer to us for the accumulating memories of pleasant hours spent there + with true-hearted ones who were living for something more than the unreal + things of this world. + </p> + <p> + How many times was the life that beat so feverishly in the Allen House, + and that which moved to such even pulsings in Ivy Cottage, contrasted in + my observation! Ten years of a marriage such as Delia Floyd so unwisely + consummated, had not served for the development of her inner life to any + right purpose. She had kept on in the wrong way taken by her feet in the + beginning, growing purse proud, vain, ambitious of external pre-eminence, + worldly-minded, and self-indulgent. She had four children, who were given + up almost wholly to the care of hirelings. There was, consequent upon + neglect, ignorance, and bad regimen, a great deal of sickness among them, + and I was frequently called in to interpose my skill for their relief. + Poor little suffering ones! how often I pitied them An occasional warning + was thrown in, but it was scarcely heeded by the mother, who had put on + towards me a reserved stateliness, that precluded all friendly + remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + At least two months of every summer Mrs. Dewey was absent from S——, + intermitting between Saratoga and Newport, where she abandoned herself to + all the excitements of fashionable dissipation. Regularly each year we saw + her name in the New York correspondence of the Herald, as the “fascinating + Mrs. D——;” the “charming wife of Mr. D——;” or in + some like style of reference. At last, coupled with one of these + allusions, was an intimation that “it might be well if some discreet + friend would whisper in the lady's ear that she was a little too intimate + with men of doubtful reputation; particularly in the absence of her + husband.” + </p> + <p> + This paragraph was pointed out to me by one of my patients. I read it with + a throb of pain. A little while afterwards I passed Mr. Floyd and Mr. + Dewey in the street. They were walking rapidly, and conversing in an + excited manner. I saw them take the direction of the depot. + </p> + <p> + “Here is trouble!” I said, sighing to myself. “Trouble that gold cannot + gild, nor the sparkle of diamonds hide. Alas! alas! that a human soul, in + which was so fair a promise, should get so far astray!” + </p> + <p> + I met Mr. Floyd half an hour later. His face was pale and troubled, and + his eyes upon the ground. He did not see me—or care to see me—and + so we passed without recognition. + </p> + <p> + Before night the little warning sentence, written by the Saratoga + correspondent, was running from lip to lip all over S——. Some + pitied, some blamed, and not a few were glad in their hearts of the + disgrace; for Mrs. Dewey had so carried herself among us as to destroy all + friendly feeling. + </p> + <p> + There was an expectant pause for several days. Then it was noised through + the town that Mr. Dewey had returned, bringing his wife home with him. I + met him in the street on the day after. There was a heavy cloud on his + brow. Various rumors were afloat. One was—it came from a person just + arrived from Saratoga—that Mr. Dewey surprised his wife in a + moonlight walk with a young man for whom he had no particular fancy, and + under such lover-like relations, that he took the liberty of caning the + gentleman on the spot. Great excitement followed. The young man resisted—Mrs. + Dewey screamed in terror—people flocked to the place—and + mortifying exposure followed. This story was in part corroborated by the + following paragraph in the Herald's Saratoga correspondence: + </p> + <p> + “We had a spicy scene, a little out of the regular performance, last + evening; no less than the caning of a New York sprig of fashion, who made + himself rather more agreeable to a certain married lady who dashes about + here in a queenly way than was agreeable to her husband. The affair was + hushed up. This morning I missed the lady from her usual place at the + breakfast-table. Later in the day I learned that her husband had taken her + home. If he'll accept my advice, he will keep her there.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Mrs. Floyd!” It was the mother's deep sorrow and humiliation that + touched the heart of my Constance when this disgraceful exposure reached + her. “She has worn to me a troubled look for this long while,” she added. + “The handsome new house which the Squire built, and into which they moved + last year, has not, with all its elegant accompaniments, made her any more + cheerful than she was before. Mrs. Dean told me that her sister was very + much opposed to leaving her old home; but the Squire has grown rich so + fast that he must have everything in the external to correspond with his + improved circumstances. Ah me! If, with riches, troubles so deep must + come, give me poverty as a blessing.” + </p> + <p> + A week passed, and no one that I happened to meet knew, certainly, whether + Mrs. Dewey was at home or not. Then she suddenly made her appearance + riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as self-assured as of + old. + </p> + <p> + “That was a strange story about Mrs. Dewey,” said I to a lady whom I was + visiting professionally. I knew her to be of Mrs. Dewey's set. Don't + smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a fashionable “set,” + in S——, and Mrs. Dewey was the leader. + </p> + <p> + The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked knowing + and mysterious. I had expected this, for I knew my subject very well. + </p> + <p> + “You were at Saratoga,” I added; “and must know whether rumor has + exaggerated her conduct.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Doctor,” said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on the air + of one who spoke in confidence. “I must say that our friend was not as + discreet as she might have been. Nothing wrong—that is, criminal—of + course. But the truth is, she is too fond of admiration, and encourages + the attentions of young men a great deal more than is discreet for any + married woman.” + </p> + <p> + “There was an actual rencontre between Mr. Dewey and a person he thought + too familiar with his wife?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Why, it was in the newspapers!” + </p> + <p> + “How was it made up between the parties?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't made up at all, I believe; There's been some talk of a duel.” + </p> + <p> + “A sad affair,” said I. “How could Mrs. Dewey have been so thoughtless?” + </p> + <p> + “She isn't prudent, by any means,” answered this intimate friend. “I often + look at the way she conducts herself at public places, and wonder at her + folly.” + </p> + <p> + “Folly, indeed, if her conduct strikes at the root of domestic happiness.” + </p> + <p> + The lady shook her head in a quiet, meaning way. + </p> + <p> + I waited for her to put her thoughts into words, which she did in a few + moments after this fashion: + </p> + <p> + “There's not much domestic happiness to spoil, Doctor, so far as I can + see. I don't think she cares a farthing for her husband; and he seems to + have his mind so full of grand business schemes as to have no place left + for the image of his wife. At least, so I read him.” + </p> + <p> + “How has this matter affected their relation one to the other?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen them together since her return, and therefore cannot + speak from actual observation,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing very definite in all this, yet it revealed such an utter + abandonment of life's best hopes—such a desolation of love's + pleasant land—such a dark future for one who might have been so + nobly blest in a true marriage union, that I turned from the theme with a + sad heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. + </h2> + <p> + Almost daily, while the pleasant fall weather lasted, did I meet the + handsome carriage of Mrs. Dewey; but I noticed that she went less through + the town, and oftener out into the country. And I also noticed that she + rode alone more frequently than she had been accustomed to do. Formerly, + one fashionable friend or another, who felt it to be an honor to sit in + the carriage of Mrs. Dewey, was generally to be seen in her company when + she went abroad. Now, the cases were exceptional. I also noticed a + gathering shade of trouble on her face. + </p> + <p> + The fact was, opinion had commenced setting against her. The unhappy + affair at Saratoga was not allowed to sleep in the public mind of S——. + It was conned over, magnified, distorted, and added to, until it assumed + most discreditable proportions; and ladies who respected themselves began + to question whether it was altogether reputable to be known as her + intimate friends. The less scrupulous felt the force of example as set by + these, and began receding also. In a large city, like New York, the + defection would only have been partial; for there, one can be included in + many fashionable circles, while only a few of them may be penetrated by a + defaming rumor. But in a small town like S——, the case is + different. + </p> + <p> + I was surprised when I comprehended the meaning of this apparent isolation + of herself by Mrs. Dewey, and saw, in progress, the ban of social + ostracism. While I pitied the victim, I was glad that we had virtue + enough, even among our weak-minded votaries of fashion, to stamp with + disapproval the conduct of which she had been guilty. + </p> + <p> + “I saw Mrs. Dewey this morning,” said my wife, one day, late in November. + “She was in at Howard's making some purchases.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you speak to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we passed a few words. How much she has changed!” + </p> + <p> + “For the worse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She appears five years older than she did last summer, and has such + a sad, disappointed look, that I could not help pitying her from my + heart.” + </p> + <p> + “There are few who need your pity more, Constance. I think she must be + wretched almost beyond endurance. So young, and the goblet which held the + shine of her life broken, and all its precious contents spilled in the + thirsty sand at her feet. Every one seems to have receded from her.” + </p> + <p> + “The common sentiment is against her; and yet, I am of those who never + believed her any thing worse than indiscreet.” + </p> + <p> + “Her indiscretion was in itself a heinous offence against good morals,” + said I; “and while she has my compassion, I have no wish to see a + different course of treatment pursued towards her.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't much faith in the soundness of this common sentiment against + her,” replied Constance. “There is in it some self-righteousness, a good + deal of pretended horror at her conduct, but very little real virtuous + indignation. It is my opinion that eight out of ten of her old fashionable + friends would be just as intimate with her as ever, though they knew all + about the affair at Saratoga, if they only were in the secret. It is in + order to stand well with the world that they lift their hands in pretended + holy horror.” + </p> + <p> + “We cannot expect people to act from any higher principles than they + possess,” said I; “and it is something gained to good morals, when even + those who are corrupt in heart affect to be shocked at departures from + virtue in their friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can see that. Still, when I look beneath the surface, I feel that, + so far as the motives are concerned, a wrong has been done; and my soul + stirs with a feeling of pity towards Mrs. Dewey, and indignation against + her heartless friends. Do you know, dear, that since I met her this + morning, I have had serious thoughts of calling upon her?” + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + Constance gave me one of her placid smiles in answer to my surprised + ejaculation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; why not?” + </p> + <p> + “What will people say?” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you what they will not say,” she replied, + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “They will not say, as they do of her, that of all men, I care least for + my husband.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid of their saying that; but—” + </p> + <p> + I was a little bewildered by this unexpected thought on the part of my + wife, and did not at first see the matter clear. + </p> + <p> + “She has held herself very high, and quite aloof from many of her old + friends,” Constance resumed. “While this was the case, I have not cared to + intrude upon her; although she has been kind and polite to me whenever we + happened to meet. Now, when the summer friends who courted her are + dropping away like autumn leaves, a true friend may draw near and help her + in the trial through which she is passing.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, Constance! right!” said I, warmly. “Your clearer eyes have gone + down below, the surface. Oh, yes; call upon her, and be her true friend, + if she will permit you to come near enough. There can be no loss to you; + there may be great gain to her. Was there any thing in her manner that + encouraged you to approach?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so. It was this, no doubt, that stirred the suggestion in my + mind.” + </p> + <p> + Constance waited a day or two, pondering the matter, and then made a call + at the Allen House. + </p> + <p> + “How were you received?” I asked, on meeting her. + </p> + <p> + “Kindly,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But with indifference?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Mrs. Dewey was surprised, I thought, but evidently pleased.” + </p> + <p> + “How long did you stay?” + </p> + <p> + “Only for a short time.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you talk about?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely any thing beyond the common-place topics that come up on formal + visits. But I penetrated deep enough into her mind to discover the 'aching + void' there, which she has been so vainly endeavoring to fill. I do not + think she meant to let me see this abyss of wretchedness; but her efforts + to hide it were in vain. Unhappy one! She has been seeking to quench an + immortal thirst at broken cisterns which can hold no water.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you do her any good, Constance?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “If we would do good, we must put ourselves in the way,” she replied. + “Nothing is gained by standing afar off.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you mean to call upon her again?” + </p> + <p> + “She held my hand at parting, with such an earnest pressure, and looked at + me so kindly when she said, 'Your visit has been very pleasant,' that I + saw the way plain before me.” + </p> + <p> + “You will wait until she returns your call?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot say. It will depend upon the way things shape themselves in my + mind. If I can do her good, I shall not stand upon etiquette.” + </p> + <p> + As I came in sight of my modest little home a few days afterwards, I saw + the stylish carriage of Mrs. Dewey dash away from my door, taking a + direction opposite to that by which I was approaching. + </p> + <p> + “How are the mighty fallen!” It was hardly a good spirit by whom this + thought was quickened, for I was conscious of something like a feeling of + triumph. With an effort I repressed the ungenerous state of mind. + </p> + <p> + “So your call has been returned,” said I, on entering our sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. How did you know?” Constance looked up, smiling, but curious. + </p> + <p> + “I saw Mrs. Dewey's carriage leave our door as I turned into the street. + Did she come in, or only leave her card?” + </p> + <p> + “She came in, and sat for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “And made herself very agreeable,—was patronizing, and all that?” + </p> + <p> + “No—nothing of the kind suggested by your words.” And Constance + looked at me reproachfully. “She was, on the contrary, quiet, subdued, and + womanly. I called to see her, with the manner of one who had about her no + consciousness of inferiority; and she returned the call, without a sign + that I could regard as offensive.” + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” I answered, coming back into my better state. “If true + friends can take the place of false friends, who left her the moment a + shadow fell upon her good name, then the occasion of blame may pave the + way to life instead of ruin. There must be remains of early and better + states covered up and hidden away in her soul, but not lost; and by means + of these she may be saved—yet, I fear, that only through deep + suffering will the overlying accretions of folly be broken away.” + </p> + <p> + “She is in the hands of one to whom all spirits are precious,” said + Constance, meekly; “and if we can aid in His good work of restoration and + salvation, our reward shall be great.” + </p> + <p> + After the lapse of a week, Constance called again upon Mrs. Dewey. She + found her in a very unhappy state of mind, and failed, almost entirely, in + her efforts to throw a few sunbeams across the shadow by which she was + environed. Her reception was neither cold nor cordial. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” she said, “that my visit was untimely. Some recent occurrence + had, probably, disturbed her mind so deeply; that she was not able to rise + above the depression that followed. I noticed a bitterness of feeling + about her that was not apparent on the occasion of my first call; and a + hardness of manner and sentiment, that indicated a condition of mental + suffering having its origin in a sense of wrong. Mr. Dewey passed through + the hall, and went out a few minutes after I entered the house, and before + his wife joined me in the parlor. It may have been fancy; but I thought, + while I sat there awaiting her appearance, that I heard angry words in the + room above. The heavy tread of a man's foot was there; but the sound + ceased all at once—so did the voices. A little while afterwards Mr. + Dewey came down stairs, and went out, as I have said. Some minutes passed + before I heard the rustle of Mrs. Dewey's garments. There was the air of + one disturbed and ill at ease about her, when she entered; and though she + made an effort to seem pleased, all was forced work. Poor woman! The path + she selected to walk in through the world has proved rough and thorny, I + fear, beyond any thing dreamed of in her young imagination.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. + </h2> + <p> + Weeks passed after this second visit to the Allen House, but the call was + not returned by Mrs. Dewey. We talked the matter over, occasionally, and + concluded that, for some reason best known to herself, the friendly + overtures of Constance were not agreeable to the lady. She was not often + seen abroad, and when she did appear, the closed windows of her carriage + usually hid her face from careful observation. + </p> + <p> + Of late, Mr. Dewey was away from S——more than usual, business + connected with the firm of which he was a member requiring his frequent + presence in New York. He did not remain absent over two or three days at a + time. + </p> + <p> + Nearly opposite to where I resided lived Mr. Joshua Kling, the Cashier of + the new Clinton Bank. He and Mr. Dewey seemed to be on particularly + friendly terms. Often I noticed the visits of Mr. Dewey to the Cashier's + house after bank hours, and many times in paying evening calls would I + meet the two gentlemen, arm in arm, engaged in close conversation. + </p> + <p> + It was pretty generally understood in S——that the Clinton Bank + was in the hands or parties in New York, and that a large proportion of + the discounts made were of paper bearing the endorsement of Floyd, Lawson, + Lee, & Co., which was passed by the directors as the legitimate + business paper received by that house in its extensive business + operations; or of paper drawn to the order of John Floyd & Co., given + in payment of goods manufactured at the mills in S——. It was + also generally conceded that as, through their partner, Mr. Dewey, this + firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., had invested a large amount of + capital in S——, and by their liberality and enterprise greatly + benefited the town, they were entitled to all the favors it was in the + power of the bank to give; more particularly as the firm was one of great + wealth—“solid as gold”—and the interests of the stockholders + would, therefore, be best served by keeping the line of discount mainly in + so safe a channel. + </p> + <p> + Now and then a disappointed storekeeper, whose small offerings were thrown + out, would inveigh bitterly against the directors, calling hard names, and + prophesying “a grand explosion one of these days;” but these invectives + and predictions hardly ever found a repetition beyond the narrow limits of + his place of business. + </p> + <p> + And so the splendid schemes of Ralph Dewey and Company went on prospering, + while he grew daily in self-importance, and in offensive superciliousness + toward men from whom he had nothing to expect. In my own case I had little + to complain of, as my contact with him was generally professional, and + under circumstances that caused a natural deference to my skill as a + physician. + </p> + <p> + Nothing out of the ordinary range of things transpired until towards + Christmas, when my wife received a note from Mrs. Dewey, asking her as a + special favor to call at the Allen House. She was there in half an hour + after the note came to hand. + </p> + <p> + I was at home when she returned, and saw the moment I looked into her face + that she had been the witness of something that had moved her deeply. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything wrong with Mrs. Dewey?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Her countenance took on a more serious aspect. + </p> + <p> + “In what respect?” + </p> + <p> + “The story cannot be told in a sentence. I received a note from her as you + are aware. Its earnest brevity forewarned me that the call involved + something of serious import; and I was not mistaken in this conclusion. On + calling, and asking for Mrs. Dewey, I noticed an air of irresolution about + the servant. 'Mrs. Dewey is not well,' she said, 'and I hardly think can + see company to-day.' + </p> + <p> + “'She is not ill, I hope?' said I. + </p> + <p> + “'No, ma'am; not ill exactly, but—' and she hesitated and looked + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “'She will see me,' I spoke confidently. 'Take her my name, and I will + wait here in the parlor.' + </p> + <p> + “In a few minutes the girl returned and asked me to walk up stairs. I + followed her to Mrs. Dewey's room. She tapped lightly on the door, which + was opened. I passed in, and found myself alone with Delia. She grasped my + arm tightly as she shut the door and locked it, saying as she did so, in a + voice so altered from her usual tone, that it sounded strangely in my ears— + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, my friend, for coming so soon. I am in deep trouble, and need + a counselor as well as a comforter. I can trust you for both.' + </p> + <p> + “I drew my arm around her, so that by act I could give more than the + assurance of words, and walked from the door with her to a lounge between + the windows, where we sat down. Her face had a shrunken aspect, like the + face of one who had been sick; and it showed also the marks of great + suffering. + </p> + <p> + “'You may trust me as your own sister, Delia,' said I, 'and if in my power + to counsel or to comfort, both will be freely accorded.' + </p> + <p> + “I called her Delia, instead of Mrs. Dewey; not from design, but because + the old name by which I had known her was first on my lips. + </p> + <p> + “I thought there was a sudden lifting of her eyes as I pronounced this + name. The effect, if any followed, was not to repel, but to draw her + closer. + </p> + <p> + “'I am standing,' she said, speaking slowly and solemnly, 'at the edge of + a deep abyss, my way hedged up on both sides, and enemies coming on + behind. I have not strength to spring over; and to fall is destruction. In + my weakness and despair, I turn to you for help. If there is help in any + mortal arm, something tells me it is in yours.' + </p> + <p> + “She did not weep, nor show strong emotion. But her face was almost + colorless, and presented an image of woe such as never met my eyes, except + in pictures. + </p> + <p> + “'You have heard, no doubt,' she went on, 'some of the stories to my + discredit which have been circulated in S——. That I was gay + and imprudent at Saratoga, cannot be denied—gay and imprudent as are + too many fashionable women, under the exciting allurements of the place. + Little fond flirtations with gentlemen made up a part of our pastime + there. But as for sin—it was not in my thoughts!' She said this with + an emphasis that assured me of its truth. 'A mere life of fashionable + pleasure is a great exhauster of resources. One tires of this excitement + and of that, pushing them aside, as a child does an old or broken toy, to + grasp after something new. It is not surprising, therefore, that mere + pleasure-seeking women forget at times the just proprieties of life, and, + before they are aware of danger, find themselves in very equivocal + positions. This was simply my case. Nothing more—nothing less.' + </p> + <p> + “She paused and looked earnestly into my face, to see if I credited this + assertion. + </p> + <p> + “'I have never believed any thing else,' said I. + </p> + <p> + “A faint, sad smile flitted across her wan face. + </p> + <p> + “'The consequences of this error on my part,' she went on, 'threaten to be + of the most disastrous kind. My husband has ever since conducted himself + towards me as if I were a guilty and disgraced thing. We occupy separate + apartments; and though we sit together at the same table, words rarely + pass between us. Occasionally he comes home under the influence of wine, + and then his abuse of me is fearful to think of. If any thing could waken + a thoughtless creature sleeping on enchanted ground, it was this.' + </p> + <p> + “'There has never been anything more than the semblance of love between + us,' she continued. 'The more intimately I came to know him, after our + marriage, the more did my soul separate itself from him, until the + antipodes were not farther apart than we. So we lived on; I seeking a poor + compensation in fashionable emulations and social triumphs; and he in + grand business enterprises—castles in the air perhaps. Living thus, + we have come to this point in our journey; and now the crisis has + arrived!' + </p> + <p> + “She paused. + </p> + <p> + “' What crisis?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + “'He demands a separation.' Her voice choked—'a divorce—' + </p> + <p> + “'On what ground?' + </p> + <p> + “'On legal ground.' She bent down, covered her face, and uttered a groan + so full of mental anguish, that I almost shuddered as the sound penetrated + my ears. + </p> + <p> + “'I am to remain passive,' she resumed, while he charges me before the + proper court, with infidelity, and gains a divorce through failure on my + part to stand forth and defend myself. This, or a public trial of the + case, at which he pledges himself to have witnesses who will prove me + criminal, is my dreadful alternative. If he gains a divorce quietly on the + charge of infidelity, I am wronged and disgraced; and if successful in a + public trial, through perjured witnesses, the wrong and disgrace will be + more terrible. Oh, my friend! pity and counsel me.' + </p> + <p> + “'There is one,' said I, 'better able to stand your friend in a crisis + like this than I am.' + </p> + <p> + “'Who?' She looked up anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “'Your father.' + </p> + <p> + “A shadow fell over her face, and she answered mournfully, + </p> + <p> + “'Even he is against me. How it is I cannot tell; but my husband seems to + have my father completely under his influence.' + </p> + <p> + “'Your mother?' I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “'Can only weep with me. I have no adviser, and my heart beats so wildly + all the time, that thought confuses itself whenever it makes an effort to + see the right direction. Fear of a public trial suggests passive endurance + of wrong on my part; but an innate sense of justice cries out against this + course, and urges me to resistance.' + </p> + <p> + “'If you are innocent,' said I, firmly, 'in the name and strength of + innocence defend yourself! All that a woman holds dearest is at stake. If + they drive you to this great extremity, do not shrink from the trial.' + </p> + <p> + “'But what hope have I in such a trial if false witnesses come up against + me?' + </p> + <p> + “'God and justice are stronger than all the powers of evil,' said I. + </p> + <p> + “'They might be, in your case,' she answered, mournfully; 'for you have + made God your friend, and justice your strong tower. But I—what have + I to hope for in God? He has not been in all my thoughts; and now will He + not mock at my calamity?' + </p> + <p> + “'No—no, my unhappy friend!' I answered. 'He never turns from any; + it is we who turn from Him. His tender mercy is over all His works. All + human souls are alike precious in His eyes. If you trust in Him, you need + not fear your bitterest enemies.' + </p> + <p> + “'How shall I trust in him?' + </p> + <p> + “She bent towards me eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “'In the simple work of doing right,' said I. + </p> + <p> + “'Doing right?' + </p> + <p> + “She did not clearly understand me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it would be right to let a charge of crime lie, unrepelled, + against you; a great crime, such as is alleged—destroying your good + name, and throwing a shadow of disgrace over your children!' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' was her unhesitating reply. + </p> + <p> + “'Then it would be wrong for you to suffer a divorce to issue on the + ground of infidelity, without a defence of yourself by every legal means + in your power. Do right, then, in so defending yourself, and trust in God + for the result.' + </p> + <p> + “I shudder at the bare thought of a public trial,' she answered. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't think of anything but right action, said I. If you would have the + Hosts of Heaven on your side, give them power by doing the right; and they + will surely achieve for you the victory over all your enemies. Have any + steps been taken by Mr. Dewey?' + </p> + <p> + “'I fear so.' + </p> + <p> + “'How long is it since your husband entertained this purpose?' + </p> + <p> + “'I think it has been growing in his mind ever since that unhappy affair + at Saratoga.' + </p> + <p> + “As she said this, her thoughts seemed to turn aside upon something else, + and she sat looking down upon the floor in a state of deep abstraction. At + last, taking a long breath, she looked up, and said with trembling lips + and a husky voice, + </p> + <p> + “'I have something more to tell you. There is another aspect to this + miserable affair.' + </p> + <p> + “And she drew forth a crumpled letter. + </p> + <p> + “'I found this, sealed, and directed, lying on the floor of my husband's + room, two days ago. It is in his hand writing; addressed to a lady in New + York, and signed R. D. I will read you its contents.' And she unfolded the + letter, and read: + </p> + <p> + “'My dearest Caroline,' it began; and then went on for a few paragraphs, + in a lover-like strain; after which, the divorce from the writer's wife + was referred to as a thing of speedy attainment, there being little fear + of opposition on her part, as he had given her to understand that he had + witnesses ready to prove her criminal conduct; if she dared to resist his + will in the matter. 'A few months of patient waiting, dearest Caroline,' + was the concluding sentence, 'and then for that happy consummation we have + so long desired.' + </p> + <p> + “'What do you think of that?' asked poor Delia, looking almost wildly into + my face. + </p> + <p> + “'I think,' said I, 'that you hold in your hands the means of safety. Your + husband will not dare to force you into a defensive position, when he + learns that you have this document in your possession. It would tell + strongly against him and his perjured witnesses if produced in court. Then + take heart, my friend. This worst evil that you dreaded will not come to + pass. If a divorce is granted, it will have to be on some different + allegation.' + </p> + <p> + “She grasped my hand, and said, 'Oh, do you think so? Do you think so?'” + </p> + <p> + “'I am sure of it,' was my confident answer. 'Sure of it. Why the man + would only damage his cause, and disgrace himself, by venturing into a + trial with a witness like this against him.'” + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, bless you for such confidently assuring words!' and the poor + creature threw herself forward, and laid her face upon my bosom. For the + first time she wept, and for a season, oh how wildly! You will not wonder + that my tears fell almost as fast as hers. + </p> + <p> + “'I turned in my despair to you,' she said, on growing calm, 'you whom I + loved, and almost revered, in the earlier and better days of my life, and + my heart tells me that I have not turned in vain. Into the darkness that + surrounded me like the pall of death, a little light has already + penetrated.'” + </p> + <p> + “May it shine unto the perfect day!” I answered fervently. + </p> + <p> + “And, dear husband! it will shine,” said Constance, a glow of enthusiasm + lighting up her face, and giving it a new beauty, “even unto the perfect + day! Not the perfect day of earthly bliss—for I think the sun of + that day has gone down never to rise again for her—but the perfect + day of that higher life, which to many comes not, except through the gates + of tribulation.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. + </h2> + <p> + I was shocked and distressed by the painful revelation which Mrs. Dewey + had made to Constance. A sadder history in real life I had never heard. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this memorable visit to the Allen House, a note was + received by my wife, containing this single word, “<i>Come</i>,” and + signed <i>Delia</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Any change in the aspect of affairs?” I inquired of Constance on her + return. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Mrs. Dewey has received notice, in due form, of her husband's + application for a divorce.” + </p> + <p> + “What has she done?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing yet. It was to ask my advice as to her best course that she sent + for me.” + </p> + <p> + “And what advice did you give her?” + </p> + <p> + “I gave none. First, I must consult you.” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head and replied, + </p> + <p> + “It will not do for me to be mixed up in this affair, Constance.” + </p> + <p> + Worldly prudence spoke there. + </p> + <p> + My wife laid her hand upon my arm, and looking calmly in my face, said, + </p> + <p> + “The right way is always a safe way.” + </p> + <p> + “Granted.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be right for you to give such advice as your judgment dictates, + and therefore safe. I do not know much about law matters, but it occurs to + me that her first step should be the employment of counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “Is her father going to stand wholly aloof?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if she be resolved to defend herself in open court. He will not + sanction a course that involves so much disgrace of herself and family.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she shown him the letter you saw?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I think she is afraid to let it go out of her hands.” + </p> + <p> + “She might trust it with her father, surely,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Her father has been very hard with her; and seems to take the worst for + granted. He evidently believes that it is in the power of Dewey to prove + her guilty; and that if she makes any opposition to his application for a + divorce, he will hold her up disgraced before the world.” + </p> + <p> + “This letter might open his eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “The letter is no defence of her; only a witness against him. It does not + prove her innocence. If it did, then it would turn toward her a father's + averted face. In court its effect will be to throw doubt upon the + sincerity of her husband's motives, and to show that he had a reason, back + of alleged infidelity, for wishing to be divorced from his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I declare, Constance!” said I, looking at my wife in surprise, “you have + taken upon yourself a new character. I think the case is safe in your + hands, and that Mrs. Dewey wants no more judicious friend. If you were a + man, you might conduct the defence for her to a successful issue.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not a man, and, therefore, I come to a man,” she replied, “and ask + the aid of his judgment. I go by a very straight road to conclusions; but + I want the light of your reason upon these conclusions.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not a lawyer as you are aware, Constance—only a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a man with a heart and common sense,” she answered, with just a + little shade of rebuke in her tones, “and as God has put in your way a + wretched human soul that may be lost, unless you stretch forth a saving + hand, is there any room for question as to duty? There is none, my + husband! Squire Floyd believes his daughter guilty; and while he rests in + this conclusion, he will not aid her in anything that points to exposure + and disgrace. She must, therefore, if a vigorous defence is undertaken, + look elsewhere for aid and comfort.” + </p> + <p> + I began to see the matter a little clearer. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford is the best man I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford!” I thought Constance would have looked me through. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford!” she repeated, still gazing steadily into my face. “Are + you jesting?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied calmly. “In a case that involves so much, she wants a wise + and good defender; and I do not know of any man upon whom she could so + thoroughly rely.” + </p> + <p> + Constance dropped her eyes to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “It would not do,” she said, after some moments. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Their former relation to each other precludes its possibility.” + </p> + <p> + “But, you must remember, Constance, that Delia never knew how deeply he + was once attached to her.” + </p> + <p> + “She knows that he offered himself.” + </p> + <p> + “And that, in a very short time afterwards, he met her with as much + apparent indifference as if she had never been to him more than a pleasant + acquaintance. Of the struggle through which he passed, in the work of + obliterating her image from his mind, she knows nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “But he knows it,” objected Constance. + </p> + <p> + “And what does that signify? Will he defend her less skillfully on this + account? Rather will he not feel a stronger interest in the case?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that she will employ him to defend her,” said Constance. + “I would not, were the case mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Womanly pride spoke there, Constance.” + </p> + <p> + “Or rather say a manly lack of perception in your case.” + </p> + <p> + “Perception of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Of the fitness of things,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what I do see,” I returned. “There is no man in S——better + fitted for conducting this case than Mr. Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + “She will never place it in his hands; you may take a woman's word for + that,” said my wife confidently. “Of all living men he is the last one to + whom she could talk of the humiliating particulars involved in a case like + this.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you suggest his name to her. Twelve years of such a life as she + has led may have almost obliterated the memory of that passage in her + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't believe it. A woman never forgets a passage like that; particularly + when the events of every passing day but serve to remind her of the error + she once committed.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what else to advise,” said I. “She ought to have a good and + discreet man to represent her, or all may be lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have any objection to confer with Mr. Wallingford on the + subject in a private, confidential way?” + </p> + <p> + “None in the world,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Will you see him at once?” The interest of Constance was too strongly + excited to brook delay. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, immediately.” + </p> + <p> + And putting on my overcoat I went to the office of Mr. Wallingford. I + found him alone, and at once laid the whole case before him—relating, + with particularity, all that had occurred between my wife and Mrs. Dewey. + He listened with deep and pitying attention; and when I was through, + expressed his opinion of Dewey in very strong language. + </p> + <p> + “And now what is to be done?” I asked, going at once to the vital + question. + </p> + <p> + “Your wife is right,” he answered. “I can hardly become her advocate. It + would involve humiliation on her part too deep to be borne. But my aid she + shall have to the fullest extent; and it will be strange if I do not + thwart his wicked scheme.” + </p> + <p> + “How will you aid her?” + </p> + <p> + “Through her right attorney, if my advice as to the choice be followed. + You know James Orton?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a young man to be relied upon. Let Mrs. Dewey put the case in his + hands. If she does so, it will be, virtually, in mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough, Mr. Wallingford,” said I. “It looks more hopeful for our poor + unhappy friend, against whom even her own flesh and blood have turned.” + </p> + <p> + When I gave Constance the result of my interview with Mr. Wallingford, she + was quite elated at the prospect of securing his most valuable aid for + Mrs. Dewey. Orton was young, and had been practising at the bar for only a + couple of years. Up to this time he had not appeared in any case of + leading importance; and had, therefore, no established reputation. Our + fear was that Mrs. Dewey might not be willing to place her case in such + inexperienced hands. In order to have the matter settled with as little + delay as possible, Constance paid an early visit to the Allen House, and + suggested Mr. Orton as counsel. Mrs. Dewey had not even heard his name; + but, after being assured that I had the fullest confidence in him, and + particularly advised his employment, she consented to accept of his + services. + </p> + <p> + Their first interview was arranged to take place at my house, and in the + presence of my wife, when the notice Mrs. Dewey had received on the + institution of proceedings, was placed in the young lawyer's hands, and + some conversation had as to the basis and tenor of an answer. A second + interview took place on the day following, at which Mrs. Dewey gave a full + statement of the affair at Saratoga, and asserted her innocence in the + most solemn and impressive manner. The letter from her husband to the lady + in New York, was produced, and at the request of Mr. Orton, given into his + possession. + </p> + <p> + The answer to Mr. Dewey's application for a divorce was drawn up by Mr. + Wallingford, who entered with great earnestness into the matter. It was + filed in court within a week after notice of the application was received. + This was altogether unexpected by the husband, who, on becoming aware of + the fact, lost all decent control of himself, and ordered his wretched + wife to leave his house. This, however, she refused to do. Then she had + her father's angry opposition to brave. But she remained firm. + </p> + <p> + “He will cover you with infamy, if you dare to persevere in this mad + opposition,” he said. And she answered— + </p> + <p> + “The infamy may recoil upon his own head. I am innocent—I will not + be such a traitor to virtue as to let silence declare me guilty.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, now, for a few weeks. The unhappy state of affairs at + the Allen House made it hardly proper for my wife to continue her visits + there, and Mrs. Dewey did not venture to call upon her. The trial of the + case would not come up for some two or three months, and both parties were + waiting, in stern resolution, for the approaching contest. + </p> + <p> + One day I received a message from Mrs. Dewey, desiring me to call and see + two of her children who were sick. On visiting them—the two youngest—I + found them seriously ill, with symptoms so like scarletina, that I had + little question in my mind as to the character of the disease from which + they were suffering. My second visit confirmed these fears. + </p> + <p> + “It is scarlet fever?” said Mrs. Dewey, looking at me calmly, as I moved + from the bed-side after a careful examination of the two little ones. + </p> + <p> + I merely answered— + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + There was no change in her countenance. + </p> + <p> + “They are both very ill.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke with a slow deliberateness, that was unusual to her. + </p> + <p> + “They are sick children,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Sick, it may be, unto death.” + </p> + <p> + There was no emotion in her voice. + </p> + <p> + I looked at her without replying. + </p> + <p> + “I can see them die, Doctor, if that must be.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, that icy coldness of manner, how it chilled me! + </p> + <p> + “No hand but mine shall tend them now, Doctor. They have been long enough + in the care of others—neglected—almost forgotten—by + their unworthy mother. But in this painful extremity I will be near them. + I come back to the post of duty, even at this late hour, and all that is + left for me, that will I do.” + </p> + <p> + I was deeply touched by her words and manner. + </p> + <p> + The latter softened a little as she uttered the closing sentence. + </p> + <p> + “You look at the darkest side,” I answered. “With God are the issues of + life. He calls us, our children, or our friends, in His own good time. We + cannot tell how any sickness will terminate; and hope for the best is + always our truest state.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope for the best,” she replied; but with something equivocal in her + voice. + </p> + <p> + “The best is life,” I said, scarcely reflecting upon my words. + </p> + <p> + “Not always,” she returned, still speaking calmly. “Death is often the + highest blessing that God can give. It will be so in the present case.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam!” + </p> + <p> + My tone of surprise did not move her. + </p> + <p> + “It is simply true, Doctor,” she made answer. “As things are now, and as + they promise to be in the future, the safest place for these helpless + innocents is in Heaven; and I feel that their best Friend is about to + remove them there through the door of sickness.” + </p> + <p> + I could not bear to hear her talk in this way. It sent cold chills through + me. So I changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + On the next day, all the symptoms were unfavorable. Mrs. Dewey was calm as + when I last saw her; but it was plain from her appearance, that she had + taken little if any rest. Her manner towards the sick babes was full of + tenderness; but there was no betrayal of weakness or distress in view of a + fatal termination. She made no anxious inquiries, such as are pressed on + physicians in cases of dangerous illness; but received my directions, and + promised to give them a careful observance, with a self-possession that + showed not a sign of wavering strength. + </p> + <p> + I was touched by all this. How intense must have been the suffering that + could so benumb the heart!—that could prepare a mother to sit by the + couch of her sick babes, and be willing to see them die! I have witnessed + many sad scenes in professional experience; but none so sad as this. + </p> + <p> + Steadily did the destroyer keep on with his work. There were none of those + flattering changes that sometimes cheat us into hopes of recovery, but a + regular daily accumulation of the most unfavorable symptoms. At the end of + a week, I gave up all hope of saving the children, and made no more vain + attempts to control a disease that had gone on from tie beginning, + steadily breaking away the foundations of life. To diminish the suffering + of my little patients, and make their passage from earth to Heaven as easy + as possible, was now my only care. + </p> + <p> + On the mother's part, there was no sign of wavering. Patiently, tenderly, + faithfully did she minister to her little ones, night and day. No + lassitude or weariness appeared, though her face, which grew paler and + thinner every day, told the story of exhausting nature. She continued in + the same state of mind I have described; never for an instant, as far as I + could see, receding from a full consent to their removal. + </p> + <p> + One morning, in making my usually early call at the Allen House, I saw, + what I was not unprepared to see, a dark death sign on the door. + </p> + <p> + “All over?” I said to the servant who admitted me. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, all is over,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Both gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, both.” + </p> + <p> + Tears were in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “When did they die?” + </p> + <p> + “About midnight.” + </p> + <p> + “At the same time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Dear little souls! They went together.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go up to see them,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And the girl showed me to the room in which they were laid. The door was + closed. I opened it, and stepped in softly. The room was darkened; but + light came in through a small opening in the curtains at the top of the + window, and fell in a narrow circle around the spot where the bodies, + already in their snowy grave clothes, were laid. In a chair beside them + sat the mother. She was alone with her dead. I felt that I was an intruder + upon a sorrow too deep for tears or words; but it was too late to recede. + So I moved forward and stood by the bedside, looking down upon the two + white little faces, from which had passed every line of suffering. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dewey neither stirred nor spoke, nor in any way gave token that she + was aware of my presence in the room. I stood for over a minute looking + upon the sweet images before me—for in them, death had put on forms + of beauty—and still there was no movement on the part of Mrs. Dewey. + Then, feeling that she was with One who could speak to her heart by an + inner way, better than I could speak through the natural ear, I quietly + receded and left the apartment. As my eyes rested on her a moment, in + closing the door, I saw that her form remained as still as a statue. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. + </h2> + <p> + An hour later, when Constance went to see Mrs. Dewey, she found her in a + state of unconsciousness, nature having at last given way. Not long after + I left the house, her mother, on entering the room where the children were + laid out, found her insensible, lying across the bed, with her dead babes + clasped in her arms. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Floyd sent word for me to come and see her daughter, as she continued + in a lethargic state. I found her like one in a deep sleep, only her + breathing was light, and her pulse very feeble, but regular. She was out + of the reach of my skill, and in the hands of the Great Physician. I could + only trust the cure to Him. No medicine for the body would be of any avail + here. I called again in the afternoon; but found no change. How little was + there in the pale, pinched face that lay among the white pillows, to + remind me of the handsome, dashing Mrs. Dewey, of a year gone by! + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of her, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Floyd put the question. The tone had in it something that made me + look narrowly into the speaker's face. My ears had not deceived me. + </p> + <p> + There was the wish in her heart that Delia might die! + </p> + <p> + I was not surprised at this. And yet the revelation of such a state of + feeling, in so good and true a woman, as I had reason to know Mrs. Floyd + to be, made my heart bound with a throb of pain. + </p> + <p> + Alas! alas! Into what unnatural conditions may not the mind fall, through + suffering that shuts out human hope! + </p> + <p> + “Nature,” said I, in answer to the question of Mrs. Floyd, “may be only + gathering up her powers after a long period of exhaustion. The strife + through which your daughter has passed—calmly passed to all external + seeming—has not been without a wasting of internal life. How she + kept on so evenly to the end, passes my comprehension. There is not one + woman in a thousand who could have so borne herself through to the final + act. It is meet that she should rest now.” + </p> + <p> + “If she were sleeping with her babes, happy would it be for her!” + </p> + <p> + Tears fell over the face of Mrs. Floyd. + </p> + <p> + “God knows what is best,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “She has nothing to live for in this world.” A sob broke from its + repression, and heaved the mother's bosom. “O Doctor, if I saw the death + dews on her brow, I would not weep!” + </p> + <p> + “Leave her, my dear friend,” said I, “in the hands of Him who sees deeper + into the heart than it is possible for our eyes to penetrate. Her feet + have left the soft, flowery ways they trod for a time, and turned into + rough paths, where every footfall is upon sharp stones; but it may be that + a blessed land is smiling beyond, he has been astray in the world, and God + may only be leading her homeward by the way of sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Floyd wept freely as I talked. + </p> + <p> + “His will be done,” she said, sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Your daughter,” said I, taking the occasion to bear my testimony on the + favorable side, “has been wronged without question. She was doubtless + imprudent, but not sinful; and the present attempt to disgrace her I + regard as a cruel wrong. It will recoil, I trust, in a way not dreamed + of.” + </p> + <p> + “O Doctor, let me thank you for such words.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Floyd caught my arm with an eager movement. + </p> + <p> + “I speak soberly, madam, and from observation and reflection. And I trust + to see Delia live and triumph over her enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you talk with the Squire, Doctor?” She still grasped my arm. “He + will not hear a word from me in favor of Delia. Mr. Dewey has completely + blinded him.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait patiently, Mrs. Floyd,” said I, in a tone of encouragement. “Your + daughter is not without friends. There are those upon her side, who have + the will and the power to defend her; and they will defend her, I believe + successfully.” + </p> + <p> + A sigh fluttered through the room, causing us both to turn quickly towards + the bed on which Mrs. Dewey was lying. Her lips were moving slightly; but + no change appeared on her death-like face. I laid my fingers upon her + wrist, and searched for her pulse. It was very low and thread-like; but + with more vitality than on the occasion of my first visit to her in the + morning. + </p> + <p> + “The signs are favorable.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Floyd did not respond. She was looking at her daughter with an + expression of unutterable grief upon her countenance. + </p> + <p> + I did not attempt to give medicine, but left unerring nature to do her own + work. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dewey did not again look upon the faces of her dead children. They + were buried ere her mind awoke to any knowledge of passing events. I was + at the funeral, and closely observed her husband. He appeared very sober, + and shed some tears at the grave, when the little coffins were lowered + together into the earth. + </p> + <p> + It was a week before Mrs. Dewey was clearly conscious of external things. + I visited her every day, watching, with deep interest, her slow + convalescence. It was plain, as her mind began to recover its faculties, + that the memory of a sad event had faded; and I was anxious for the + effect, when this painful remembrance was restored. + </p> + <p> + One day I found her sitting up in her room. She smiled feebly as I came + in, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, am I never going to get well? It seems like an age since I became + sick.” + </p> + <p> + “You are getting on finely,” I answered, in a cheerful way, sitting down + by her and taking her hand, which was wasted and shadowy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that, Doctor,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What makes me so weak? I've no more strength than a babe. And that + reminds me of a frightful dream I had.” And her countenance changed. + </p> + <p> + “A dream?” I queried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I thought Aggy and Lu were both dead! I saw them laid out, cold and + white as statues, just as plainly as I see you now.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped suddenly, an expression of fear going over her face—then + looked at me in a strange, questioning way. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor”—she leaned towards me, with lips apart, and eyes full of a + sudden, wild alarm. I laid my hand upon her, and said: + </p> + <p> + “You have been very ill for some time, Mrs. Dewey, and are too weak to + bear excitement. Don't let mere dreams disturb you.” + </p> + <p> + “Dreams?” Her eyes fell from mine. “Dreams?” she repeated. “I feel very + weak, Doctor,” was added, after a few moments. “Won't you assist me to lie + down?” + </p> + <p> + And she made a movement to rise. I took her arm and supported her to the + bed, where she quietly composed herself, and turned her face away, so as + almost to hide it from my view. At this moment Mrs. Floyd came in, and I + withdrew, leaving them together. + </p> + <p> + Memory had been restored. The accompanying shock was severe, but not heavy + enough seriously to retard her recovery, which went on slowly. She still + remained at the Allen House, rarely meeting her husband, who now spent a + large part of his time in New York. + </p> + <p> + The period fixed for a trial of the case between them was fast + approaching. He continued resolute, and she did not waver from her purpose + to defend her good name. The deep interest I took in the case, led me to + see Mr. Wallingford often, and make inquiry as to the evidence which could + be produced in Mrs. Dewey's favor, and the probable chances of an + honorable result. We both favored a settlement of the difficulty without a + trial and its consequent exposure, if that were possible. But how to + prevent this was the difficult question. Finally it was determined to make + a copy of the letter found by Mrs. Dewey, and enclose it to her husband, + giving him warning at the same time that the original would be produced at + the trial. + </p> + <p> + Nothing was heard in response to this movement, until within a week of the + day on which the case was expected to come up, when Mr. Dewey's lawyer + called on Mr. Orton to know if it was still his intention to meet them in + open court and resist their application for a divorce. On being assured + that such was their purposes he expressed some regret at the consequent + damage to the lady's reputation, as they had evidence against her of the + most conclusive character. Finally he wished to know whether, in case a + new ground were taken—one not touching the lady's good name—any + opposition would be made. Mr. Orton said that he would consult his client, + and answer the query with as little delay as practicable. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dewey expressed a willingness to remain passive, provided no + allegations were made in the new bill that even remotely cast a shadow + upon her virtue. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Wallingford, on taking the matter into further consideration, + advised a different course altogether—no less than an application + from the other side, on the ground of neglect, ill-treatment, and + constructive conjugal infidelity, based on the important letter already + referred to. Mrs. Dewey caught eagerly at this suggestion, as soon as it + was presented to her. If a divorce were thus obtained, her vindication + would be complete. + </p> + <p> + The ranks of the enemy were thrown into confusion by this diversion. Mr. + Dewey was violent, and threatened most terrible consequences. But when the + time set for the case to come up arrived, he failed to appear. + </p> + <p> + It was from the other side that the next movement came. A divorce was + applied for on the part of Mrs. Dewey, in a bill carefully drawn up by Mr. + Wallingford. It asked not only for a legal separation from her husband, + but for alimony, and the possession of the two remaining children. An + answer was filed; but it was of so feeble a character as to amount to + scarcely anything in the way of opposition. The chief argument was + directed against the claim for alimony. The result was as we had + anticipated. In the following spring a divorce was granted, and Mrs. + Dewey, with her two children, left the Allen House and returned to her + father's. The maintenance allowed by the court, was one thousand dollars a + year for herself, and five hundred a year for each of the children during + their minority. + </p> + <p> + And so closed this exciting drama, begun in weakness, and ending in + hopeless disaster. Oh, a few years! How many broken hearts do they close + over? How many wrecks of goodly lives do they see scattered among the + breakers! + </p> + <p> + The interposition of Mr. Wallingford, in this case, was so managed as to + keep him entirely out of sight, and Mrs. Dewey was never made aware of the + fact that he had rendered her a great service. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. + </h2> + <p> + We did not see a great deal of Mr. Dewey in S——for some months + after this. I heard it casually remarked that he was traveling in the + South and West, for a part of the time, on business. The large interests + of his firm involved in the two mills, however, made his presence + necessary among us, and late in the fall he came back, and remained + through the winter residing at the Allen House. + </p> + <p> + In the spring a rumor got afloat that Mr. Dewey was soon to be married. A + lady in New York was mentioned; the same, it was said, to whom the letter + found by Mrs. Dewey was addressed. A few signs of renovation at the Allen + House gave confirmation of this rumor, which at length assumed a more + positive shape. + </p> + <p> + The intimacy between Mrs. Wallingford and Constance, had grown into a + close interior friendship, and scarcely a week passed that an evening was + not spent by them together, sometimes at our house, and sometimes at Ivy + Cottage. Mr. Wallingford had developed into a man after my own heart; and + so I shared, when professional engagements allowed, in the enjoyment of + these pleasant seasons. + </p> + <p> + One evening Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford came round to spend an hour with us. + I was happily at leisure. Conversation naturally falls into the current of + passing events, and on this occasion, the approaching marriage of Mr. + Dewey came naturally into the field of topics. This led to a review of the + many strange circumstances connected with Mrs. Wallingford's presence in S——, + and naturally, to an inquiry from my wife as to the present position of + the property left by Captain Allen. + </p> + <p> + “What about this young Garcia?” said Constance, addressing Mr. + Wallingford. “I haven't heard of him for some time.” + </p> + <p> + “He is at school yet, I believe,” replied Mr. Wallingford, not showing + much interest in the matter. + </p> + <p> + “He must be nearly of age,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “About twenty, if his years were correctly given.” + </p> + <p> + “He will come into the possession of a handsome property,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if it can be found by the time he is ready to receive it.” + </p> + <p> + “Can be found! I don't comprehend you, Mr. Wallingford? Do you mean to + question the integrity of the men who are executors to the estate?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But, they have embarked in the same vessel with an unscrupulous + villain—so I regard Ralph Dewey—and have, as far as I can see, + given the rudder into his hands. If he do not wreck them on some dangerous + coast, or sunken rock, it will be more from good fortune than anything + else.” + </p> + <p> + “He is partner in a very wealthy firm,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The standing of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., is, you know, undoubted. He + can't wreck out friends Bigelow and Floyd, without ruining them also.” + </p> + <p> + “I was in New York a few months ago, on business,” Mr. Wallingford + replied, “and it so happened, that I heard the firm of which Dewey is a + partner spoken of. Among other remarks, was this: 'They are thought to be + very much extended.'” + </p> + <p> + “What is the meaning of that?” asked Mrs. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “It is understood in business circles,” replied her husband, “to mean, + that a house is doing too much business for the amount of capital + employed, and that it has issued, in consequence, a large amount of paper. + Any very heavy losses to a firm in this condition might prove disastrous.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much extended?” said I, thoughtfully, some new impressions forming + themselves in my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that was the opinion held by the individual I refer to; and he was + not one to speak carelessly on so grave a matter.” + </p> + <p> + “If the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. should go down,” I + remarked, “there will be sad work in S——.” + </p> + <p> + “There will, without any doubt,” replied Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “The executors to the Allen estate might find themselves in a most + unfortunate position,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Such a position as I would not be in, for all the world. Any thing but + dishonor!” + </p> + <p> + “How dishonor?” asked Constance. + </p> + <p> + “The whole estate would be, I fear, involved.” + </p> + <p> + “They gave security,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “But the sureties are not worth a tenth part of the sum for which they + stand responsible. The court acted with a singular want of discretion in + appointing them.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to have us infer that Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd have + used the funds of this estate for their own purposes, to any great + extent?” + </p> + <p> + “I would not care to say this out of doors, Doctor, but that is just my + opinion of the matter as it now stands. Dewey is guardian to the heir, and + would favor, rather than oppose, such a use of the funds.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be just so much in favor of the heir,” remarked Mrs. + Wallingford, “if two-thirds of the property had disappeared by the time he + reached his majority; for, from all that I have heard of him, he is not + likely to become a man fitted to use large wealth either to his own or any + body else's advantage. He was low born and low bred, in the worst sense of + the words; and I fear that no education will change his original quality, + or greatly modify his early bias. So while the wasting of his substance is + a great wrong in the abstract, it may be a real blessing to him. Events in + this life work out strangely to our human eyes, yet there is a Providence + in them that ever educes good from evil.” + </p> + <p> + “If we could always believe that,” said I, “how tranquilly might we pass + through life! How clearly would our eyes see through the darkest clouds, + and rest upon the silver lining!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not so? Does not God's providence follow us in the smallest things + of our lives? Do we take a step that falls outside of his cognizance? We + have only to look back, to be assured of this. We may walk on tranquilly, + Doctor, for, as sure as we live, no evil can befall us that does not have + its origin within our own spirits. All the machinations of our most bitter + enemies will come to naught, if we keep our hearts free from guile. They + may rob us of our earthly possessions; but even this God will turn to our + greater gain.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wallingford spoke with a charming enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “With such a confidence,” said my wife, “one is richer than if he had the + wealth of an Astor.” + </p> + <p> + “And with this great advantage,” replied Mrs. Wallingford, “that he may + enjoy the whole of his possessions. Moth and rust never corrupt them; and + no man can take them away.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a new book from which I want to read you a sentiment,” said + Constance, rising, and moving towards the secretary and book-case, which + stood in the room. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wallingford rose and went with her. + </p> + <p> + “It is so beautifully accordant with many things I have heard you say,” + added my wife, as she took down the volume, and commenced turning over its + pages. + </p> + <p> + After reading a few sentences, and commenting upon them, some remark + directed the attention of Mrs. Wallingford to the antiquated secretary, + which was the one I had purchased when the furniture of the Allen house + was sold. + </p> + <p> + “I have reason to remember this old secretary,” she said. “It was here + that the will was found which cut off our interest in the estate of my + uncle.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke in a pleasant way, she pulled out a drawer—the very one + which had suggested concealment, when I first got possession of the piece + of furniture—and said— + </p> + <p> + “This is where the will lay concealed.” + </p> + <p> + And she pressed against the side firmly, when a portion of it yielded, and + there sprung up another drawer, or receptacle, placed in vertically. + </p> + <p> + We were all very much interested in this curious arrangement. The drawer + could not be pulled out much beyond half its depth; the secret portion + lying within this limit. + </p> + <p> + As I stood looking at the drawer, a sudden thought flashed through my + mind, and I pressed my hand against the other side. It began to yield! I + pressed harder, and up sprung a corresponding secret receptacle, from + which a paper fell out. A hard substance rattled on the solid wood. It was + a gold locket, tied with a piece of blue ribbon; and attached, with a + seal, to the folded paper. + </p> + <p> + It was some moments before a hand reached forth to lift the document. It + was at length taken up by Mr. Wallingford. As he did so, the locket swung + free, and we saw that it contained a braid of dark hair. Unfolding the + paper, and stepping back to the light, he read, in a low, firm voice, as + follows: + </p> + <p> + “I, John Allen, being of sound mind, do make this as my last will and + testament, revoking, at the same time, all other wills. I give and + bequeath all my property, real and personal, to my sister Flora, if + living; or, if dead, to her legal heirs—reserving only, for my wife, + Theresa Garcia, in case she survive me, a legacy of five hundred dollars a + year, to be continued during her natural life. And I name as my executors, + to carry out the provisions of this will, Doctor Edward——-and + James Wilkinson, of the town of S——, State of Massachusetts.” + </p> + <p> + Then followed the date, which was recent, compared with that of the other + wills, and the signatures of the testator and witnesses, all in due form. + The witnesses were men in our town, and well known to us all. + </p> + <p> + At the reading of her mother's name, Mrs. Wallingford sat down quickly, + and, covering her face, leaned over upon the centre table. I saw that she + was endeavoring to control a strong agitation. + </p> + <p> + I was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “The ways of Providence are past finding out,” said I. “Let me + congratulate you on this good fortune.” + </p> + <p> + As I spoke, Mrs. Wallingford rose from the table, and, going to her + husband, placed her hands upon his arms, and looking up into his face, + fondly and tearfully, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Henry! For your sake, my heart is glad to-night.” + </p> + <p> + He laid the will down, as if it were a thing of little value, and kissing + her, said:— + </p> + <p> + “This cannot add to our happiness, Blanche, and may bring care and + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Not more trouble than blessing,” she replied, “if rightfully used.” + </p> + <p> + The locket attached to the will excited our curious interest. It was, we + felt sure, the same that Captain Allen's mother had sent to him by the + hands of Jacob Perkins. Doubtless, some memory of his mother, stirred by + the sight of this locket, had caused him to revoke his former will, and + execute this one in favor of his sister. There was no room to question, + for a moment, its genuineness. It had all legal formality, and the men who + witnessed the signature were living and well known to us all. I was named + as one of the executors. So there was some perplexing business before me; + for, in taking things as they were, it was not probable that the executors + under the former will would be able, promptly, to give a satisfactory + account of their trust, or to hand over the property in a shape acceptable + to the right heirs. + </p> + <p> + But, of this, more anon. Our good friends went home early after this + singular discovery, showing more bewilderment than elation of manner. I + think that Constance and I were gladder in heart than they. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. + </h2> + <p> + The first thing done was to place the will on record; the next to give + proper legal notice of its existence to the executors under the previous + will, Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd. Mr. Dewey, on the announcement of + this discovery, unhesitatingly declared the paper a forgery; but the + witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen were living, and ready to + attest its genuineness. They remembered, very distinctly, the time when + their names were appended to the document. It was only a year before the + Captain's death. They were walking past the Allen House, when the old man + called them in, and asked them to witness the signing of a paper. Of its + contents they had no knowledge, as he did not make any communication on + the subject. But he signed it in their presence, and their signatures + showed this will to be the paper then executed. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding this, it came to our ears, that Mr. Dewey persisted in + alleging fraud, forgery, and the complicity of these witnesses. And from + the manner of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, in the first brief interview + I had with them, it was plain that they were far from being satisfied that + all was right. Their manner was that of men utterly confounded. If the + property in question had been held by them as really their own, they could + hardly have exhibited more feeling. + </p> + <p> + After the will was entered at the proper office, and thus made public, the + following paragraph appeared in our “Weekly Star”— + </p> + <p> + “<i>Remarkable Discovery of a Will.</i>—A singular circumstance + happened in our town last week, no less than the discovery of a new and + more recent will of the late Captain Allen, by which all of his large + property is devised to his sister and her heirs. It was found in a secret + drawer, contained in an antiquated French Secretary, which Dr.——bought + when the furniture of the Allen House was sold, previous to a renovation + of the old mansion for the residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. The late Mrs. + Montgomery, who resided for a time at the Allen House, was sister to + Captain Allen, and her daughter is now the wife of our townsman, Henry + Wallingford, Esq. We congratulate the parties on the good fortune which + has come to their door.” + </p> + <p> + The marriage of Mr. Dewey took place within a month after the discovery of + this will, and he brought his new wife to S——, installing her + as mistress of the Allen House. She was a showy woman, past thirty, with a + pair of brilliant black eyes, and a dark, rich complexion. Her long, thin + nose, and delicate, but proudly arching lips, showed her to possess will + and determination. It was the rumor in S——, that she brought + her husband a considerable fortune. But she was not well received among + us. The families of Judge Bigelow, and Joshua Kling, Cashier of the + Clinton Bank, called immediately. Something later called the wives of two + Directors in the Bank, and afterwards the wives of one or two citizens who + had embarked some capital in the cotton mills. Beyond this, no advances + were made towards an acquaintance with the new Mrs. Dewey. + </p> + <p> + It shocked my sensibilities to see this woman dashing about through S——in + the elegant equipage once the pride of the now humbled daughter of Squire + Floyd, who, since the divorce granted on her application, had lived in + strict retirement in her father's house. The only time when she was seen + abroad, was on the Sabbath, at church, with her two children. The oldest, + a daughter, in her thirteenth year; and the youngest, a boy, ten years of + age. The terrible ordeal passed through by this unhappy woman, had told + upon her severely. In a year, she seemed to have lived ten. All the fine + roundness of her face and person had given way, and she presented the + appearance of one who had come out of a long and exhausting illness. + </p> + <p> + Constance made it a point of duty to visit her often. She found her states + of mind exceedingly variable. Sometimes she was in patient, tranquil + states, and sometimes she manifested great bitterness of spirit, + complaining of man's cruel selfishness, and God's injustice. The marriage + of Mr. Dewey disturbed her considerably. One day, not long after this + event, Constance called to see her. She was in one of her darker moods; + and all the comforting suggestions which my good wife could make, seemed + to go for nothing. They were sitting near a window, overlooking the + street, when Delia suddenly turned pale, and caught her breath. A carriage + went sweeping by at the moment, drawn by two spirited horses. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the woman?” she exclaimed, as soon as she recovered herself. + </p> + <p> + “That is the woman,” Constance replied. + </p> + <p> + Delia clutched her hands so tightly that her arms quivered, and grew + rigid; while her pale face darkened with an expression so like revenge, + that Constance felt a shudder of fear in her heart. + </p> + <p> + “If my prayers for her are answered,” said the excited woman, speaking + through her closing teeth, “she will find that day the darkest in the + calendar of her life, when she stepped between me and my husband. I have + only curses for her in my heart. Only curses!” + </p> + <p> + Constance, startled, and almost frightened by this wild burst of feeling, + endeavored to soothe her; but the storm was too fierce to own the power of + her gentle persuasions, and raged on for its brief season. + </p> + <p> + “I thought her mind had given way,” said my wife, on relating what she had + seen and heard. “It was fearful to look upon a human creature so terribly + moved.” + </p> + <p> + “The trial to her feelings must have been very.... [Gap in original] + </p> + <p> + “But I thought the severe discipline through which she had passed, had + chastened and subdued her,” answered Constance. “I saw, or believed that I + saw, the beginnings of a new and true life in her soul. But over all this, + passion has swept with its besom of destruction.” + </p> + <p> + “The better states,” I replied, “may not have been destroyed in this evil + whirlwind. Such states, when once formed, usually retire and hide + themselves until the storm has spent its fury.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray that it may be so in this case,” said Constance. “But from what I + saw to-day, my fears are on the other side.” + </p> + <p> + In the mean time we were taking such steps as the responsibility of our + position required, towards getting possession of the property, which, + under the will of Captain Allen, must come into our hands. My co-executor, + Mr. James Wilkinson, a merchant of S——, was for adopting the + most summary proceedings. He was annoyed at the questions, doubts, and + delays which Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd permitted to intervene; and + more especially by the intermeddling of Dewey, towards whom, from some + cause, he entertained hostile feeling. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of course, we were guided in all our movements by Mr. + Wallingford. At the earliest term of court, we brought forward the claim + of Mrs. Wallingford, under the last will and testament of her uncle. A + feeble effort was made to throw doubt upon the genuineness of the + document; but the oath of the witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen + settled the question beyond the reach of cavil, and the executors under + the first will were ordered to transfer, by a certain date, all property + belonging to the estate into our hands. + </p> + <p> + I saw plainly enough, from the beginning, that the idea of giving an + account of their stewardship was not an agreeable one to either of the + executors under the old will. The direction which the property must take + was one that would not admit of any holding back or covering up on their + part. They would be required to exhibit clean hands. + </p> + <p> + The property clearly shown as having passed into their possession, was the + old mansion and valuable grounds, which had been sold, under an order of + the court, at a heavy sacrifice—bringing only thirty-five thousand + dollars, instead of sixty thousand, its real value—and the proceeds + re-invested. Then there was other town property worth twenty thousand + dollars, and stocks valued at as much more: making seventy-five thousand + dollars in all as the principal. Interest added, would swell the sum for + which they must give account to over one hundred thousand dollars. + </p> + <p> + It was found, on looking into the business, that the whole of this immense + sum was invested in the cotton mills. The search made into the legal + condition of these mill properties was not satisfactory. There were + several mortgages against them, one of which, for twenty-five thousand + dollars, was held by the Clinton Bank as collateral security for loans. + </p> + <p> + After various delays and failures on the part of the old executors to meet + us in a satisfactory manner, we all assembled, by appointment, in the + office of Judge Bigelow. Mr. Dewey I was surprised to find present. But it + was plain that he was there either by the consent or request of the Judge + and Squire. The court had given a certain time for the executors under the + first will to make up their accounts, and hand over the property in trust. + That time had expired. + </p> + <p> + There was manifest embarrassment on the part of Judge Bigelow and his + associate; while Dewey looked stern and dogged. We soon got into the + centre of the business, and found it pretty earnest work. It was admitted + by the executors that the greater portion of the estate was in the cotton + mills. How to get it out was the question. + </p> + <p> + “I had always understood,” said Mr. Wallingford, “that the mills were + chiefly owned in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “The New York interest is large,” replied Squire Floyd, in a husky voice. + </p> + <p> + “And can be increased, no doubt, to almost any extent, in order to enable + you to withdraw the trust investments,” resumed Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “Why cannot you let it remain where it is for the present? The investment + is safe and the interest sure,” said Judge Bigelow. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't safer security in the state,” spoke up Mr. Dewey, with + animation. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the kind of security we wish to hold,” said Mr. Wilkinson + firmly. “We have given heavy bonds, and prefer to get the property in a + different shape.” + </p> + <p> + Here followed a chilling silence, which was broken by Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “There is one way in which this can be arranged,” said he. + </p> + <p> + All eyes were turned upon him. + </p> + <p> + “If it is not convenient to transfer to new parties interests of such + magnitude, we will take, at a fair valuation, the Allen House and grounds + appertaining thereto, including the mill site.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dewey was on his feet in a moment, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Never!” with considerable excitement of manner. + </p> + <p> + Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd looked at each other in a bewildered + manner, and then at Mr. Dewey, who was walking the floor with many signs + of disturbance. + </p> + <p> + “This is the family property,” continued Mr. Wallingford, coolly—“and + ought never to have been sold. It is but fair that it should come back.” + </p> + <p> + “It can't go back,” spoke up Mr. Dewey. “The present owners will not let + it pass out of their hands.” + </p> + <p> + “If that is the case,” said Mr. Wallingford, “we shall have to look in + another direction. It occurred to me that this might suit all parties, and + lead to an easy arrangement. But if that cannot be—if the present + owners, to use Mr. Dewey's words, will not let it go back—then my + suggestion falls to the ground, and we must look to the investments as + they stand. We do not press the matter.” + </p> + <p> + I observed Mr. Dewey closely; the amount of feeling he displayed having + drawn my attention upon him. Once or twice I saw him dart malignant + glances towards Mr. Wallingford. And so, by degrees, I began to have a + glimpse of what was passing in his mind. To go out from that elegant home, + and let Wallingford succeed him as the owner, was something to which his + proud heart could not submit—Wallingford, the once despised and + contemned student of his uncle! That was too bitter a humiliation. + </p> + <p> + As nothing could then be decided, another meeting, to take place in three + or four days, was agreed upon, and we separated. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. + </h2> + <p> + As my profession kept me going about all the while, I had opportunities + for observing the movements of other people. The day following the meeting + referred to in the last chapter, I saw Dewey, the Judge, and the Squire + together several times, and always in earnest talk. As I came home, + towards evening, I saw them all entering Mr. Dewey's residence. It was + plain that there was trouble in the camp. + </p> + <p> + On the next day, Mr. Dewey left town. I noticed him going into a car at + the depot. When the time came for our meeting, a postponement was asked + for. I felt like demurring, but Mr. Wallingford readily consented. + </p> + <p> + “Give them a little more time,” said he, as we walked away from Judge + Bigelow's office. “It will come out as we desired. The easiest way for + them to arrange with us, is to let us have the Allen House property, which + is owned by the firm of which Dewey is a member; and it is with a view to + this, I have no doubt, that he is now in New York.” + </p> + <p> + So we waited a few days longer. The return of Mr. Dewey took place in the + course of a week, when I received a note from Judge Bigelow, asking a + private interview. I found him and his nephew alone. They received me in a + pleasant, affable way; and the Judge said that he wished to have a little + talk with me before another formal meeting of the executors. I answered + that it would give me pleasure to confer with him; though I could neither + accept nor propose any thing, standing alone. + </p> + <p> + “It is not with a view to that, Doctor,” replied the Judge, his + countenance putting on a shade of gravity that nearly obliterated the + smiles with which he at first received me. “But I thought it might help to + a better issue, if two of the parties representing the opposite interests + in this case were to have a little informal conversation.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to hear any thing you have to say, Judge, and shall be very + happy if I can aid, in any thing, the satisfactory adjustment of these + matters.” My answer, I thought, appeared to give him confidence, and he + said— + </p> + <p> + “Without doubt you can aid, Doctor. The position in which Squire Floyd and + myself find ourselves placed, is one of some embarrassment. In making + investments of the property which came into our hands, we had reference, + of course, to its security and productiveness; at the same time looking to + a period, still some years in advance, when our trust would cease, and the + property pass in due course to the heir-at-law. To realize on these + investments now, would be to damage the interests of others; and I cannot + feel that it would be right for you to urge this. The discovery of a new + will, bearing a later date, is a thing wholly unexpected. We had no + warning to prepare for the summary action growing out of its appearance, + and, as I have just intimated, cannot proceed without injury to others.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe,” said Mr. Dewey, “that the court, if the case was + fairly stated, would require this speedy settlement of the trust. And it + is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a new award as to + time. A year longer should be conceded to the executors under the old + will.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be equitable,” said the Judge. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” I made answer to this, “that Mr. Wallingford will not + consent to any postponement.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't? The hound!” I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey's tone of + voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance an expression + of malignant hatred. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph!” said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice. + </p> + <p> + “I can't repress my indignation,” answered the nephew. “What demons from + the nether hell have conspired to give <i>him</i> power over us? If it had + been any other man in the world I could have borne it patiently.” + </p> + <p> + “Ralph! Ralph!” interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice. + </p> + <p> + “It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling,” was replied. “To see + you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Mr. Dewey,” said I, “but I cannot hear such language used + towards a gentleman of irreproachable character. Mr. Wallingford is not + entitled to the epithet you give; and I warn you, not to repeat that, or + anything like it, in my presence.” + </p> + <p> + “You warn me!” + </p> + <p> + A gleam shot towards me from his evil eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph! silence!” The Judge spoke sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in all soberness, I warn you,” said I, fixing my gaze upon him, and + holding his eyes until they fell to the floor. “Mr. Wallingford is not the + man to permit any one to use language about him, such as you have indulged + in. If you make use of another opprobrious epithet, I will communicate the + fact to him immediately. And let me say, that, unless a different temper + is manifested, I must terminate this interview at once.” + </p> + <p> + Judge Bigelow drew his nephew aside, and talked for some time with him, in + a low, earnest tone; after which the latter apologized, though with an ill + grace, for the intemperance of his manner—alleging that an old wound + smarted whenever Wallingford crossed his path. + </p> + <p> + The result of this confidential talk was not as favorable on my mind as + Judge Bigelow had hoped to make it. I pitied his embarrassment; but the + conduct of Dewey confirmed my previous view of the case, which was to + require a transfer of the property specified by Mr. Wallingford, or press + for an immediate foreclosure of the mill investments. There was, I felt + satisfied, hazard in delay. + </p> + <p> + When our next formal meeting took place, Dewey was again present. It was + in my thought to suggest that he was not a party covered by the business + to be considered, when Mr. Wallingford said, in his mild, grave way— + </p> + <p> + “I believe this is a meeting of the Executors under the two wills of + Captain Allen.” + </p> + <p> + The meaning of his remark could not be misunderstood, for he glanced + towards Mr. Dewey as he spoke. That individual, however, did not choose to + regard himself as referred to, and made no sign. But Mr. Wallingford was + not the man to let a deliberate purpose fall to the ground. He had come + with the intention of objecting to Dewey's presence at the conference, and + to insist upon his retiring, as a preliminary to business. + </p> + <p> + No one replying to Mr. Wallingford's remark, he said, further— + </p> + <p> + “I do not mean to be uncourteous, but I must suggest the propriety of Mr. + Dewey's withdrawal.” + </p> + <p> + “I am an interested party,” said Dewey, with ill-concealed anger. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I was not before aware of this,” replied Wallingford, and he looked + inquiringly towards the Judge and Squire. They showed an uneasy perplexity + of manner, but did not respond. + </p> + <p> + “In what way are you interested?” queried Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “I am one of the guardians to the heir under an existing will.” + </p> + <p> + “A will that the decision of our court has rendered null and void,” was + promptly answered. “We have not met to consider questions in which Leon + Garcia, or his representative, has any concern. Our business refers to + other matters.” + </p> + <p> + Dewey moved uneasily, and seemed struggling to keep down his rising + displeasure. But he did not, manifest any intention to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + “Had we not better proceed to business?” suggested Squire Floyd. + </p> + <p> + “Not while Mr. Dewey remains,” said I, firmly taking the side of Mr. + Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody will repent himself of this!” exclaimed the ill-governed man, + passionately, starting to his feet, and striding from the office. + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand this individual's conduct,” remarked Wallingford, in a + serious way. “Why has he presumed to intermeddle in our business? It has a + bad look.” + </p> + <p> + He knit his brows closely, and put on a stern aspect, very unusual to him. + </p> + <p> + “You probably forget,” said Judge Bigelow, “that you have proposed a + change of ownership in property now occupied by him?” + </p> + <p> + “That was simply to give you more latitude in settling up the estate in + your hands. I said we were willing to accept that property at a fair + valuation, thinking it would offer a desirable mode of liquidation. It is + for you to say yea or nay to us; not Ralph Dewey. If you cannot gain his + consent to the transfer, there is an end of that proposal.” + </p> + <p> + I really commiserated the embarrassment shown by the Judge and Squire. + They seemed to be in a maze, without perceiving the right way of + extrication. Dewey appeared to have over them some mysterious influence, + above which they had not power to rise. + </p> + <p> + “If Ralph will not consent—” + </p> + <p> + “Ralph must consent!” exclaimed Squire Floyd, with a sudden energy of + manner, and the exhibition of a degree of will not shown before. “Ralph <i>must</i> + consent! The mode of adjustment proposed by Mr. Wallingford is the one + easiest for us to accomplish, and I shall insist on Dewey's giving up his + opposition. There is a vast deal more of pride than principle involved in + his objection.” + </p> + <p> + The Squire was breaking away from his fetters. + </p> + <p> + “It is plain,” added Squire Floyd, “that his partners wish that property + to go in preference to any other. And it must go.” + </p> + <p> + This was a style of remark quite unexpected on our part; and only added + firmness to our purpose. The interview was not prolonged in discussion. We + merely reaffirmed our ultimatum, and gave one week for the two men to + decide in what manner to close their trust. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. + </h2> + <p> + The decision was as I expected it to be; and the old property came back + into the family. There were few hearts in S——, that did not + beat with pleasure, when it was known that Mr. Wallingford and his lovely + wife were to pass from Ivy Cottage to the stately Allen House. + </p> + <p> + I think the strife between Mr. Dewey and the old executors was severe, and + that he yielded only when he saw that they were immovable. An open rupture + with Squire Floyd was a consequence of his persistent determination to + have the Allen property transferred; and after the settlement of this + business, they held no personal communication with each other. + </p> + <p> + The change in Mr. Dewey's appearance, after it became a settled thing that + he must remove from the splendid mansion he had occupied for years, was + remarkable. He lost the impressive swagger that always said, “I am the + first man in S——;” and presented the appearance of one who had + suffered some great misfortune, without growing better under the + discipline. He did not meet you with the free, open, better-than-you look + that previously characterized him, but with a half sidelong falling of the + eyes, in which there was, to me, something very sinister. + </p> + <p> + As far as our observation went, Mr. Wallingford put on no new phase of + character. There was about him the same quiet, thoughtful dignity of + manner which had always commanded involuntary respect. He showed no + unseemly haste in dispossessing Mr. Dewey of his elegant home. Two months + after the title deeds had passed, I called in at Ivy Cottage, now one of + the sweetest, little places in S——, for Constance, who had + been passing the evening there. Not in any home, through all the region + round, into which it was my privilege to enter, was there radiant, like a + warm, enticing atmosphere that swelled your lungs with a new vitality, and + gave all your pulses a freer beat, such pure love—maternal and + conjugal—as pervaded this sanctuary of the heart. I say maternal, as + well as conjugal, for two dear babes had brought into this home attendant + angels from the higher heaven. + </p> + <p> + A soft astral lamp threw its mellow rays about the room. Mr. Wallingford + had a book open in his hand, from which he had been reading aloud to his + wife and Constance. He closed the volume as I entered, and rising, took my + hand, saying, with even more than his usual cordiality— + </p> + <p> + “Now our circle is complete.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me from rising, Doctor,” said Mrs. Wallingford, a smile of welcome + giving increased beauty to her countenance, as she offered the hand that + was free—the other held her babe, just three months old, tenderly to + her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been reading?” I asked, as I seated myself, and glanced + towards the volume which Mr. Wallingford had closed and laid upon the + table. + </p> + <p> + “A memorable relation of the Swedish Seer,” he replied, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Touching marriage in heaven,” said I, smiling in return. + </p> + <p> + “Or, to speak more truly,” he replied, “the union of two souls in heaven, + into an eternal oneness. Yes, that was the subject, and it always + interests me deeply. Our life here is but a span, and our brief union + shadowed by care, pain, sickness, and the never-dying fear of parting. The + sky of our being is not unclouded long. And therefore I cannot believe + that the blessedness of married love dies forever at the end of this + struggle to come into perfect form and beauty. No, Doctor; the end is not + here. And so Blanche and I turn often with an eager delight to these + relations, feeling, as we read, that they are not mere pictures of fancy, + but heavenly verities. They teach us that if we would be united in the + next world, we must become purified in this. That selfish love, which is + of the person must give place to a love for spiritual qualities. That we + must grow in the likeness and image of God, if we would make one angel in + His heavenly kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes rested upon Blanche, as he closed the sentence, with a look full + of love; and she, as if she knew that the glance was coming, turned and + received it into her heart. + </p> + <p> + I did not question the faith that carried them over the bounds of time, + and gave them delicious foreshadowings of the blessedness beyond. As I + looked at them, and marked how they seemed to grow daily into a oneness of + spirit, could I doubt that there was for them an eternal union? No, no. + Such doubts would have been false to the instincts of my own soul, and + false to the instincts of every conscious being made to love and be loved. + </p> + <p> + “The laying aside of this earthly investiture,” said Wallingford, + resuming, “the passage from mortal to immortal life, cannot change our + spirits, but only give to all their powers a freer and more perfect + development. Love is not a quality of the body, but of the spirit, and + will remain in full force, after the body is cast off like the shell of a + chrysalis. Still existing, it will seek its object. And shall it seek + forever and not find? God forbid! No! The love I bear my wife is not, I + trust, all of the earth, earthy; but instinct with a heavenly perpetuity. + And when we sleep the sleep of death, it will be in the confident + assurance of a speedy and more perfect conjunction of our lives. On a + subject of such deep concern, we are dissatisfied with the vague and + conjectural; and this is why the record of things seen and heard in the + spiritual world by Swedenborg—especially in what relates to + marriages in heaven—has for us such an absorbing interest.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you satisfied with the evidence?” I ventured to inquire, seeing him + so confident. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + He answered quietly, and with an assured manner. + </p> + <p> + “How do you reach a conclusion as to the truth of these things?” + </p> + <p> + “Something after the same way that you satisfy yourself that the sun + shines.” + </p> + <p> + “My eyes testify to me that fact. Seeing is believing,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “The spirit of a man has eyes as well as his body,” said Wallingford. “And + seeing is believing in another sense than you intimate. Now the bodily + eyes see material objects, and the mind, receiving their testimony, is in + no doubt as to the existence, quality, and relation of things in the outer + world. The eyes of our spirits, on the other hand, see immaterial objects + or truths; and presenting them to the rational and perceptive faculties, + they are recognized as actual existences, and their quality as surely + determined as the quality of a stone or metal. If you ask me how I know + that this is quartz, or that iron; I answer, By the testimony of my eyes. + And so, if you ask how I satisfy myself as to the truth of which I read in + this book; I can only reply that I see it all so clearly that conviction + is a necessity. There is no trouble in believing. To attempt disbelief, + would be to illustrate the fable of Sisyphus.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke calmly, like one whose mind had risen above doubt. I objected + nothing further; for that would have been useless. And why attempt to + throw questions into his mind? Was there anything evil in the faith which + he had adopted as exhibited in his life? I could not say yes. On the + contrary, taking his life as an illustration, good only was to be + inferred. I remembered very well when his mind diverged into this new + direction. Some years had intervened. I thought to see him grow visionary + or enthusiastic. Not so, however. There was a change progressively + visible; but it was in the direction of sound and rational views of life. + A broader humanity showed itself in his words and actions. Then came the + subtler vein of religious sentiments, running like pure gold through all + that appertained to him. + </p> + <p> + If, therefore, he was progressing towards a higher life, why should I + question as to the way being right for him? Why should I seek to turn him + into another path when there was such a broad light for his eyes on the + one he had chosen? “By their fruits ye shall know them.” And by his fruits + I knew him to be of that highest type of manhood, a Christian gentleman. + </p> + <p> + I noticed, while Mr. Wallingford spoke so confidently of their reunion in + heaven, that his wife leaned towards, and looked at him, with eyes through + which her soul seemed going forth into his. + </p> + <p> + As the conversation flowed on, it gradually involved other themes, and + finally led to the question On my part, as to when they were going to + leave Ivy Cottage. + </p> + <p> + “That is quite uncertain,” replied Mr. Wallingford. “I shall not hurry the + present occupant. We have been so happy here, that we feel more inclined + to stay than to remove to a more ambitious home.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear that Mr. Dewey is going to build,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “He has been negotiating for the property on the elevation west of the + Allen House.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. The price of the ground, five acres, is ten thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “The site is commanding and beautiful. The finest in S——, for + one who thinks mainly of attracting the attention of others,” said Mr. + Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “If he builds, we shall see something on a grander scale than anything yet + attempted in our neighborhood. He will overshadow you.” + </p> + <p> + “The rivalry must be on his side alone,” was Mr. Wallingford's reply. “No + elegance or imposing grandeur that he may assume, can disturb me in the + smallest degree. I shall only feel pity for the defect of happiness that + all his blandishments must hide.” + </p> + <p> + “A splendid Italian villa is talked of.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wallingford shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You doubt all this?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Not the man's ambitious pride; but his ability to do what pride suggests. + He and his compeers are poorer, by a hundred thousand dollars, than they + deemed themselves a few short months ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Have they met with heavy losses?” I asked, not understanding the drift of + his remark. + </p> + <p> + “The estate in trust has been withdrawn.” + </p> + <p> + “How should that make them poorer?” + </p> + <p> + “It makes them poorer, in the first place, as to the means for carrying on + business. And it makes them poorer, in the second place, in the loss of an + estate, which, I am sorry to believe, Mr. Dewey and a part of his New York + associates regarded as virtually their own. + </p> + <p> + “But the heir was approaching his majority,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And growing up a weak, vicious, self-indulgent young man, who, in the + hands of a shrewd, unscrupulous villain, might easily be robbed of his + fortune. You may depend upon it, Doctor, that somebody has suffered a + terrible disappointment, and one from which he is not likely soon to + recover. No—no! We shall see nothing of this princely Italian + villa.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot believe,” I replied, “that the executors who had the estate in + trust were influenced by dishonorable motives. I know the men too well.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor do I, Doctor,” he answered, promptly. “But, as I have before said, + they were almost wholly under the influence of Dewey, and I think that he + was leading them into mazes from which honorable extrication would have + been impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you given Dewey any notice of removal?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No—and shall not, for some time. I am in no hurry to leave this + place, in which the happiest days of my life have passed. Any seeming + eagerness to dispossess him, would only chafe a spirit in which I would + not needlessly excite evil passions. His pride must, I think, lead him at + a very early day to remove, and thus make a plain way before me.” + </p> + <p> + “How long will you wait?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Almost any reasonable time.” + </p> + <p> + “You and he might not take the same view of what was reasonable,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not. But, as I remarked just now, being in no hurry to leave our + present home, I shall not disturb him for some months to come. No change + will be made by us earlier than next spring. And if he wishes to spend the + winter in his present abode, he is welcome to remain.” + </p> + <p> + There was no assumed virtuous forbearance in all this; but a sincere + regard for the feelings and comfort of Dewey. This was so apparent, that I + did not question for a moment his generous consideration of a man who + would not have hesitated, if the power were given, to crush him to the + very earth. + </p> + <p> + Many thoughts passed in my mind, as I pondered the incidents and + conversation of this evening. In looking back upon life, we see the sure + progress of causes to effects; and in the effects, the quality of the + causes. We no longer wonder at results—the only wonder is, that they + were not foreseen. Wise maxims, some of the garnered grains of our + fathers' experiences, are scattered through the books we read, and daily + fall from the lips of teachers and friends; maxims which, if observed, + would lead us to honor and happiness. But who gives them heed? Who makes + them the rule of his conduct? + </p> + <p> + We might wonder less at the blind infatuation with which so many press + onward in a course that all the wisdom of the past, as well as all the + reason of the present, condemns, if it were possible to rub out our + actions, as a child rubs from his slate a wrong sum, and begin the work of + life over again. But this cannot be. We weave hourly the web that is to + bind us in the future. Our to-days hold the fate of our to-morrows. What + we do is done for ever, and in some degree will affect us throughout + infinite ages. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Delia Floyd!” My thought had turned to her as I lay awake, long + after the small hours of the morning, busy with incidents and reflections + which had completely banished sleep from my eyes. In the strong pity of my + heart, I spoke the words aloud. + </p> + <p> + “What of her?” said Constance, in a tone of surprise. And so intruding + thought had kept her awake also! + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more than usual,” I answered. “But I cannot sleep for thinking of + her unhappy state, and what she might have been, if obeying her own + heart's right impulses, and the reason God gave her, she had accepted a + true man, instead of a specious villain for her husband. The scene in Ivy + Cottage to-night stands in most remarkable contrast with some things I + witnessed at the Allen House before she went out thence a wretched woman + for life. She staked everything on a desperate venture, and has lost. God + pity her! for there is no help in any human arm. To think of what she is, + and what she might have been, is enough to veil her reason in midnight + darkness.” + </p> + <p> + “Amen! God pity her!” said Constance. “For truly there is no help for her + in mortal arm.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. + </h2> + <p> + The conduct of Mr. Wallingford, in regard to the estate which had fallen + into his hands, rather puzzled Dewey. He had anticipated an early + notification to remove, and, true to his character, had determined to + annoy the new owner by vexatious delays. But after the passage of several + weeks, in which came to him no intimation that he must give up the + possession of his elegant home, he began to wonder what it could mean. + </p> + <p> + One day, not long after the conversation with Wallingford, mentioned in + the last chapter, I met Mr. Dewey in the street. He stopped me and said, + in half-sneering way, + </p> + <p> + “What of our honorable friend? Impatient, I suppose, to see the inside of + the Allen House?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, “he has no wish to disturb you for the present.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! You expect me to believe all that, of course.” + </p> + <p> + There was a rudeness in his manner that was offensive; but I did not care + to let him see that I noticed it. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you not believe my remark?” said I. “Is it a new thing in your + experience with men to find an individual considerate of another?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by considerate of another?” + </p> + <p> + My form of speech touched his pride. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford has manifested towards you a considerate spirit,” said I, + speaking slowly and distinctly. “It naturally occurs to him that, as you + are so pleasantly situated at the Allen House, an early removal therefrom + might be anything but desirable. And so he has rested quietly up to this + time, leaving a decision as to the period with yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Very unselfish, truly!” + </p> + <p> + His lip curled in disdain. + </p> + <p> + “If you feel restive under this concession in your favor,” said I, putting + on a serious manner, “I would suggest independence as a remedy.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me curiously, yet with a scowling contraction of his brows. + </p> + <p> + “Independence! What am I to understand by your remark?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply this, Mr. Dewey. You are in the occupancy of property belonging to + Mr. Wallingford, and by his favor. Now, if you cannot receive a kindness + at his hands, in the name of all that is manly and independent, put + yourself out of the range of obligation.” + </p> + <p> + I was not able to repress a sudden feeling of indignation, and so spoke + with warmth and plainness. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for your plainness of speech, Doctor,” he retorted, drawing + himself up in a haughty manner. + </p> + <p> + “As to removing from the Allen House, I will do that just when it suits my + pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford, you may be assured,” said I, “will not show any unseemly + impatience, if you do not find it convenient to make an early removal. He + knows that it cannot be agreeable for you to give up the home of years, + and he is too much of a Christian and a gentleman to do violence to + another's feelings, if it can be in any way avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “Pah! I hate cant!” + </p> + <p> + He threw his head aside in affected disgust. + </p> + <p> + “We judge men by their actions, not their words,” said I. “If a man acts + with considerate kindness, is it cant to speak of him in terms of praise? + Pardon me, Mr. Dewey, but I think you are letting passion blind you to + another's good qualities.” + </p> + <p> + “The subject is disagreeable to me, Doctor. Let us waive it.” + </p> + <p> + “It was introduced by yourself, remember,” I replied; “and all that I have + said has been in response to your own remarks. This much good has grown + from it. You know just how Mr. Wallingford stands towards you, and you can + govern yourself according to your own views in the case. And now let me + volunteer this piece of advice. Never wantonly give offence to another, + for you cannot tell how soon you may find yourself in need of his good + services.” + </p> + <p> + Dewey gave me a formal bow, and passed on his way. + </p> + <p> + About a week afterwards, Judge Bigelow inquired of Wallingford as to when + he wished to get possession of the Allen House. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever Mr. Dewey finds it entirely convenient to remove,” was the + unhesitating reply. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose it should not be convenient this fall or winter?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. The spring will suit me. I am in no hurry. We are too + comfortable in Ivy Cottage to be in any wise impatient for change.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is your pleasure that Mr. Dewey remain until spring?” + </p> + <p> + “If such an arrangement is desirable on his part, Judge, it is altogether + accordant with my feelings and convenience. Say to him that he has only to + consult his own wishes in the case.” + </p> + <p> + “You are kind and considerate, Mr. Wallingford,” said the Judge, his + manner softening considerably, for there had been a coldness of some + years' standing on the part of Judge Bigelow, which more recent events had + increased. + </p> + <p> + “And why should it be otherwise, Judge?” inquired his old student. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Dewey has not given you cause for either kindness or consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “It would hurt me more than it would him, were I to foster his unhappy + spirit. It is always best, I find, Judge, to be right with myself.” + </p> + <p> + “All men would find it better for themselves, were they to let so fine a + sentiment govern their lives,” remarked Judge Bigelow, struck by the + language of Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “It is the only true philosophy,” was replied. “If a man is right with + himself, he cannot be wrong towards others; though it is possible, as in + my case, that other eyes, looking through a densely refracting medium, may + see him out of his just position. But he would act very unwisely were he + to change his position for all that. He will be seen right in the end.” + </p> + <p> + Judge Bigelow reached out his hand and grasped that of Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “Spoken like a man, Henry! Spoken like a man!” he said, warmly. “I only + wish that Ralph had something of your spirit. I have seen you a little out + of your right position, I believe; but a closer view is correcting the + error.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford returned the pressure as warmly as it was given, saying, as he + did so— + </p> + <p> + “I am aware, Judge, that you have suffered your mind to fall into a state + of prejudice in regard to me. But I am not aware of any thing in my + conduct towards you or others, to warrant the feeling. If in any thing I + have been brought into opposition, faithfulness to the interests I + represented has been the rule of my conduct. I have sought by no trick of + law to gain an advantage. The right and the just I have endeavored to + pursue, without fear and without favor. Can you give me a better rule for + professional or private life?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot, Henry,” was the earnest reply. “And if all men would so pursue + the right and the just, how different would be the result for each, as the + sure adjustment of advancing years gave them their true places in the + world's observation!” + </p> + <p> + The Judge spoke in a half—absent way, and with a shade of regret in + his tones; Wallingford noted this with a feeling of concern. + </p> + <p> + “Let us be friends in the future,” he added, again offering his hand to + Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “It will be your fault, not mine, if we are not fast fiends, Judge. I have + never forgotten the obligations of my boyhood; and never ceased to regret + the alienation you have shown. To have seemed in your eyes ungrateful, has + been a source of pain whenever I saw or thought of you.” + </p> + <p> + The two men parted, each feeling better for the interview. A day or two + afterwards Wallingford received a note from Judge Bigelow asking him, as a + particular favor, to call at his office that evening. He went, of course. + The Judge was alone, and received him cordially. But, his countenance soon + fell into an expression of more than usual gravity. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wallingford,” he said, after the passage of a few casual + observations, “I would like to consult you in strict confidence on some + matters in which I have become involved. I can trust you, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “As fully as if the business were my own,” was the unhesitating answer. + </p> + <p> + “So I have believed. The fact is, Henry, I have become so entangled in + this cotton mill business with Squire Floyd, Dewey, and others, that I + find myself in a maze of bewildering uncertainty. The Squire and Ralph are + at loggerheads, and seem to me to be getting matters snarled up. There is + no denying the fact that this summary footing of our accounts, as + executors, has tended to cripple affairs. We were working up to the full + extent of capital invested, and the absence of a hundred thousand dollars—or + its representative security—has made financiering a thing of no easy + consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, Judge Bigelow,” said Wallingford, as the old man paused, + “that you are in the hands of one who, to gain his own ends, would + sacrifice you without a moment's hesitation.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “You will permit me to speak plainly, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + “Say on. The plain speech of a friend is better than the flatteries of an + enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no faith in Ralph Dewey.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked steadily at each other for some moments. + </p> + <p> + “Over fifteen years' observation of the man has satisfied me that he + possesses neither honor nor humanity. He is your nephew. But that does not + signify. We must look at men as they are.” + </p> + <p> + “His movements have not been to my satisfaction for some time,” said the + Judge; speaking as though conviction had to force itself upon his mind. + </p> + <p> + “You should canvass all he does with the closest care; and if your + property lies in any degree at his mercy, change the relation as quickly + as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not prejudiced against him, Henry?” The Judge spoke in a + deprecating tone. + </p> + <p> + “I believe, sir, that I estimate him at his real value; and I do most + earnestly conjure you to set to work at once to disentangle your affairs + if seriously involved with his. If you do not, he will beggar you in your + old age, which God forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “I am far from sure that I can disentangle my affairs,” said the Judge. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing like trying, you know.” Wallingford spoke in a tone of + encouragement. “And everything may depend on beginning in time. In what + way are you involved with him?” + </p> + <p> + It was some time before Judge Bigelow answered this direct question. He + then replied, + </p> + <p> + “Heavily in the way of endorsements.” + </p> + <p> + “Of his individual paper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Also of the paper of his firm.” + </p> + <p> + “To an extent beyond your ability to pay if there should be failure on + their part?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; to three times my ability to pay.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford dropped his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time. He then + looked up into Judge Bigelow's face, and said, + </p> + <p> + “If that be so, I can see only one way for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Say on.” + </p> + <p> + “Let no more endorsements be given from this day forth.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I suddenly refuse? The thing has been going on for years.” + </p> + <p> + “You can refuse to do wrong on the plea of wrong. If your name gives no + real value to a piece of paper, yet accredits it in the eyes of others, it + is wrong for you to place your endorsement thereon. Is not this so?” + </p> + <p> + “I admit the proposition, Henry.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. The only way to get right, is to start right. And my dear, + dear sir! let me implore you to take immediately the first step in a right + direction. Standing outside of the charmed circle of temptation as I do, I + can see the right way for your feet to walk in better than you can. Oh, + sir! Let me be eyes, and hand, and feet for you if need be; and if it is + not too late, I will save you from impending ruin.” + </p> + <p> + Wallingford took the old man's hand, and grasped it warmly as he spoke. + The Judge was moved by this earnest appeal, coming upon him so + unexpectedly; and not only moved, but startled and alarmed by the tenor of + what was said. + </p> + <p> + “The first thing,” he remarked, after taking time to get his thoughts + clear, “if I accept of your friendly overtures, is for me to lay before + you everything just as it is, so that you can see where I stand, and how I + stand. Without this, your view of the case would be partial, and your + conclusions might not be right.” + </p> + <p> + “That is unquestionably so,” Wallingford replied. “And now, Judge, if you + wish my friendly aid, confide in me as you would a son or brother. You + will find me as true as steel.” + </p> + <p> + A revelation succeeded that filled Mr. Wallingford with painful + astonishment. The endorsements of Judge Bigelow, on paper brought to him + by Dewey, and of which he took no memorandums, covered, no doubt, from a + hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Then, as to the affairs + of the Clinton Bank, of which Judge Bigelow was still the President, he + felt a great deal of concern. The Cashier and Mr. Dewey knew far more + about the business and condition of the institution than anybody else, and + managed it pretty much in their own way. The directors, if not men of + straw, might almost as well have been, for all the intelligent control + they exercised. As for Judge, Bigelow, the principal duty required of him + was to sign his name as President to great sheets of bank bills, the + denomination running from one dollar to a thousand. Touching the extent to + which these representatives of value were issued, he knew nothing certain. + He was shown, at regular periods, a statement wherein the condition of the + bank was set forth, and to which he appended his signature. But he had no + certain knowledge that the figures were correct. Of the paper under + discount over two-thirds was drawn or endorsed by Floyd, Lawson, Lee, + & Co. + </p> + <p> + At the time Judge Bigelow began investing in mill property, he was worth, + in productive stocks and real estate, from thirty to forty thousand + dollars. He now estimated his wealth at from sixty to eighty thousand + dollars; but it was all locked up in the mills. + </p> + <p> + The result of this first interview between the Judge and Mr. Wallingford + was to set the former in a better position to see the character of his + responsibilities, and the extreme danger in which he stood. The clear, + honest, common sense way in which Wallingford looked at everything, and + comprehended everything, surprised his old preceptor; and gave him so much + confidence in his judgment and discretion, that he placed himself fully in + his hands. And well for him was it that he did so in time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. + </h2> + <p> + In accordance with the advice of Mr. Wallingford, the first reactionary + movement on the part of Judge Bigelow, was his refusal to endorse any more + paper for his nephew, or the firm of which he was a member, on the ground + that such endorsements, on his part, were of no real value, considering + the large amounts for which he was already responsible, and consequently + little better than fraudulent engagements to pay. + </p> + <p> + A storm between the uncle and nephew was the consequence, and the latter + undertook to drive the old gentleman back again into the traces, by + threats of terrible disasters to him and all concerned. If Judge Bigelow + had stood alone, the nephew would have been too strong for him. But he had + a clear-seeing, honest mind to throw light upon his way, and a young and + vigorous arm to lean upon in his hour of weakness and trial. And so Ralph + Dewey, to his surprise and alarm, found it impossible to bend the Judge + from his resolution. + </p> + <p> + Then followed several weeks, during which time Dewey was flying back and + forth between New York and S——, trying to re-adjust the + disturbed balance of things. The result was as Mr. Wallingford had + anticipated. There was too much at stake for the house of Floyd, Lawson, + Lee, & Co., to let matters fail for lack of Judge Bigelow's + endorsements. Some other prop must be substituted for this one. + </p> + <p> + The four months that followed were months of anxious suspense on the part + of Judge Bigelow and his true friend, who was standing beside him, though + invisible in this thing to all other eyes, firm as a rocky pillar. No more + endorsements were given, and the paper bearing his name was by this time + nearly all paid. + </p> + <p> + “Right, so far,” said Mr. Wallingford, at the expiration of the time in + which most of the paper bearing Judge Bigelow's name reached its maturity. + “And now for the next safe move in this difficult game, where the odds are + still against us. You must get out of this Bank.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge looked gravely opposed. + </p> + <p> + “It may awaken suspicion that something is wrong, and create a run upon + the Bank, which would be ruin.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you exercise a controlling influence in the position you hold? Can + you be true, as President of the Clinton Bank, to the public interest you + represent?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot. They have made of me an automaton.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. That settles the question. You cannot honorably hold your + place a single day. There is only one safe step, and that is to resign.” + </p> + <p> + “But the loose way in which I held office will be exposed to my + successor.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not the question to consider, Judge—but the right. Still, + so far as this fear is concerned, don't let it trouble you. The choice of + successor will fall upon some one quite as facile to the wishes of Ralph + Dewey & Company as you have been.” + </p> + <p> + The good counsels of Mr. Wallingford prevailed. At the next meeting of the + Board of Directors, the resignation of Judge Bigelow was presented. Dewey + had been notified two days before of what was coming, and was prepared for + it. He moved, promptly, that the resignation be accepted. As soon as the + motion was carried, he offered the name of Joshua Kling, the present + Cashier, for the consideration of the Board, and urged his remarkable + fitness. Of course, Mr. Joshua Kling was elected; and his place filled by + one of the tellers. To complete the work, strong complimentary + resolutions, in which deep regret at the resignation of Judge Bigelow was + expressed, were passed by the Board. In the next week's paper, the + following notice of this change in the officers of the Bank appeared: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Resignation of Judge Bigelow.</i>—In consequence of the pressure + of professional engagements, our highly esteemed citizen Judge Bigelow, + has found it necessary to give up the office of President in the Clinton + Bank, which he has held with so much honor to himself since the + institution commenced business. He is succeeded by Joshua Kling, Esq., + late Cashier; a gentleman peculiarly well-fitted for the position to which + he has been elevated. Harvey Weems, the first Teller, takes the place of + Cashier. A better selection, it would be impossible to make. From the + beginning, the affairs of this Bank have been managed with great prudence, + and it is justly regarded as one of the soundest in the State.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend,” said the grateful Judge, grasping the hand of + Wallingford, who called his attention to this notice, “what a world of + responsibility you have helped me to cast from my shoulders! I am to-day a + happier man than I have been for years. The new President is welcome to + all the honor his higher position may reflect upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “The next work in order,” remarked the Judge's clear-headed, resolute + friend, “is to withdraw your investments from the cotton mills. That will + be a slower and more difficult operation; but it must be done, even at a + sacrifice. Better have fifty thousand dollars in solid real estate, than a + hundred thousand in that concern.” + </p> + <p> + And so this further disentanglement was commenced. + </p> + <p> + Winter having passed away, Mr. Dewey saw it expedient to retire from the + Allen House. By this time nothing more was heard of his Italian Villa. He + had something else to occupy his thoughts. As there was no house to be + rented in S——, that in any way corresponded with his ideas, he + stored his furniture, and took board at the new hotel which had lately + been erected. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wallingford now made preparations for removing to the old mansion, + which was still the handsomest place, by all odds, in our town. + </p> + <p> + One day, early in the summer, I received a note from Mr. Wallingford, + asking me to call around at Ivy Cottage in the evening. At the bottom of + the note, was a pencilled line from his wife to Constance, asking the + pleasure of seeing her also. We went after tea. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me to the library, Doctor!” said my excellent friend, soon + after our arrival. “I want to have a little talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + So we left the ladies and retired to the library. + </p> + <p> + “My business with you to-night,” said he, as we seated ourselves, facing + each other, on opposite sides of the library-table, “is to get at some + adjustment of affairs between us, as touching your executorship of the + Allen estate. I have asked two or three times for your bills against the + estate, but you have always put me off. Mr. Wilkinson, on the contrary, + rendered an account for services, which has been allowed and settled.” + </p> + <p> + “The business required so little attention on my part,” I replied to this, + “that I have never felt that I could, in conscience, render an account. + And besides, it was with me so much a labor of love, that I do not wish to + mar the pleasure I felt by overlaying it with a compensation.” + </p> + <p> + “No man could possibly feel more deeply your generous good will toward me + and mine—manifested from the beginning until now—than I do, + Doctor. But I cannot permit the obligation to rest all on one side.” + </p> + <p> + He pulled out a drawer of the library-table, as he said this, and taking + therefrom a broad parchment document, laid it down, and while his hand + rested upon it continued— + </p> + <p> + “Anticipating that, as heretofore, I might not be able to get your + figures, I have taken the matter into my own hands, and fixed the amount + of compensation—subject, of course, to objections on your part, if I + have made the award too low. These papers are the title deeds of Ivy + Cottage, executed in your favor. There are memories and associations + connected with this dear spot, which must for ever be sacred in the hearts + of myself and wife; and it would be pain to us to see it desecrated by + strangers. In equity and love, then, we pass it over to you and yours; and + may God give you as much happiness beneath its roof as we have known.” + </p> + <p> + Surprise kept me silent for some time. But as soon as my thoughts ran + free, I answered— + </p> + <p> + “No—no, Mr. Wallingford. This is fixing the sum entirely beyond a + fair estimate. I cannot for a moment—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped me before I could finish the sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor!” He spoke with earnestness and deep feeling. “There is no living + man to whom I am so heavily indebted as I am to you. Not until after my + marriage was I aware that your favorable word, given without + qualification, bore me into the confidence of Mrs. Montgomery, and thus + opened the way for me to happiness and fortune. My good Blanche has often + repeated to me the language you once used in my favor, and which awakened + in her mind an interest which gradually deepened into love. My heart moves + towards you, Doctor, and you must let its impulses have way in this small + matter. Do not feel it as an obligation. That is all on our side. We + cannot let Ivy Cottage go entirely out of the family. We wish to have as + much property in it as the pilgrim has in Mecca. We must visit it + sometimes, and feel always that its chambers are the abodes of peace and + love. A kind Providence has given us of this world's goods an abundance. + We did not even have to lift our hands to the ripe clusters. They fell + into our laps. And now, if, from our plenty, we take a small portion and + discharge a debt, will you push aside the offering, and say, No? Doctor, + this must not be!” + </p> + <p> + Again I essayed objection; but all was in vain. Ivy Cottage was to be our + pleasant home. When, on returning with Constance, I related to her what + had passed between Mr. Wallingford and myself, she was affected to tears. + </p> + <p> + “If I have ever had a covetous thought,” she said, “it has been when I + looked at Ivy Cottage. And to think it is to be mine! The sweetest, + dearest spot in S——!” + </p> + <p> + There was no putting aside this good fortune. It came in such a shape, + that we could not refuse it without doing violence to the feelings of + true-hearted friends. And so, when they removed to their new home, we + passed to Ivy Cottage. + </p> + <p> + The two years that followed were marked by no events of striking interest. + The affairs of Judge Bigelow continued to assume a better shape, under the + persistent direction of Mr. Wallingford, until every dollar which he had + invested in the cotton mills was withdrawn and placed in real estate or + sound securities. Long before this there had come an open rupture between + the old man and his nephew; but the Judge had seen his real character in + so clear a light that friendship was no longer desirable. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. + </h2> + <p> + And now we have come down to the memorable summer and fall of 1857. No + gathering clouds, no far-distant, low-voiced thunder gave warning of an + approaching storm. The sky was clear, and the sun of prosperity moving + onward in his strength, when, suddenly, from the West came a quick flash + and an ominous roll of thunder. Men paused, looked at each other, and + asked what it meant. Here and there a note of warning was sounded; but, if + heeded by any, it came too late. There followed a brief pause, in which + people held their breaths. Then came another flash, and another rattling + peal. Heavy clouds began to roll up from the horizon; and soon the whole + sky was dark. Pale face looked into pale face, and tremulous voices asked + as to what was coming. Fear and consternation were in all hearts. It was + too late for any to seek refuge or shelter. Ere the startled multitudes + had stirred from their first surprised position, the tempest came down in + its fury, sweeping, tornado-like, from West to East, and then into one + grand gyration circling the whole horizon. Men lost courage, confidence, + and hope. They stood still while the storm beat down, and the fearful work + of destruction went on. + </p> + <p> + No commercial disaster like this had ever before visited our country. + Houses that stood unmoved through many fierce convulsions went down like + brittle reeds, and old Corporations which were thought to be as immovable + as the hills tottered and fell, crushing hundreds amid their gigantic + ruins. + </p> + <p> + Among the first to yield was the greatly extended house of Floyd, Lawson, + Lee, & Co. The news came up on the wires to S——, with + orders to stop the mills and discharge all hands. This was the bursting of + the tempest on our town. Mr. Dewey had gone to New York on the first sign + of approaching trouble, and his return was looked for anxiously by all + with whom he was deeply interested in business. But many days passed and + none saw him, or heard from him. Failing to receive any communication, + Squire Floyd, who had everything involved, went down to New York. I saw + him on the morning of his return. He looked ten years older. + </p> + <p> + It was soon whispered about that the failure of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & + Co. was a bad one. Then came intimations that Mr. Dewey was not in New + York, and that his partners, when questioned about him, gave very + unsatisfactory replies. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any notes of the Clinton Bank, Doctor?” said a friend whom I met + in the street. “Because, if you have, take my advice and get rid of them + as quickly as possible. A run has commenced, and it's my opinion that the + institution will not stand for forty-eight hours.” + </p> + <p> + It stood just forty-eight hours from the date of this prophecy, and then + closed its doors, leaving our neighborhood poorer by the disaster over two + hundred thousand dollars. There was scarcely a struggle in dying, for the + institution had suffered such an exhausting depletion that when its + extremity came it passed from existence without a throe. A Receiver was + immediately appointed, and the assets examined. These consisted, mainly, + of bills receivable under discount, not probably worth now ten cents on + the dollar. Three-fourths of this paper was drawn or endorsed by New York + firms or individuals, most of whom had already failed. The personal + account of Ralph Dewey showed him to be a debtor to the Bank in the sum of + nearly a hundred thousand dollars. The President, Joshua Kling, had not + been seen since the evening of the day on which the doors of the Clinton + Bank were shut, never to be opened for business again. His accounts were + all in confusion. The Cashier, who had succeeded him on his elevation to + the Presidency of the institution; was a mere creature in his hands; and + from his revelations it was plain that robbery had been progressing for + some time on a grand scale. + </p> + <p> + As soon as these disastrous facts became known to the heaviest sufferers + in S——, the proper affidavits were made out, and requisitions + obtained for both Dewey and Kling, as defaulters and fugitives from + justice. The Sheriff of our county, charged with the duty of arrest, + proceeded forthwith to New York, and, engaging the services of detectives + there, began the search for Dewey, who, it was believed, had not left that + city. He was discovered, in a week, after having dexterously eluded + pursuit, on the eve of departure for England, disguised, and under an + assumed name. His next appearance in S——was as a prisoner in + the hands of our Sheriff, who lodged him in jail. Very heavy bonds being + required for his appearance at court, there was not found among us any one + willing to take the risk, who was qualified to become his surety. And so + the wretched man was compelled to lie in prison until the day of trial. + </p> + <p> + Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who visited + him without delay. He found him a shrinking, cowed, and frightened + culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore firm in bearing, + though in a false and dangerous position. + </p> + <p> + “This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford,” he said, on meeting the lawyer—“a + very bad business; and I have sent for you as a professional gentleman of + standing and ability, in order to have a consultation in regard to my + position—in fact, to place myself wholly in your hands. I must have + the best counsel, and therefore take the earliest opportunity to secure + your valuable services. Will you undertake my case?” + </p> + <p> + “That will depend, Mr. Dewey,” was answered, “entirely upon how it stands. + If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your innocence, I + will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling your accusers to the + last. But if, on the contrary, you cannot show clean hands, I am not the + one to undertake your case.” + </p> + <p> + Dewey looked at Mr. Wallingford strangely. He scarcely comprehended him. + </p> + <p> + “I may have committed mistakes; all men are liable to error,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Mistake is one thing, Mr. Dewey, and may be explained; fraud is another + thing, and cannot be explained to mean any thing else. What I want you to + understand, distinctly, is this: If your connection with the Clinton Bank + has been, from the beginning, just and honorable, however much it may now + seem to be otherwise, I will undertake your case, and conduct it, I care + not through how great difficulties, to a favorable issue. But if it has + not been—and you know how it stands—do not commit your fate to + me, for I will abandon you the moment I discover that you have been guilty + of deliberate wrong to others.” + </p> + <p> + The countenance of Mr. Dewey fell, and he seemed to shudder back into + himself. For some time he was silent. + </p> + <p> + “If there is a foregone conclusion in your mind, that settles the matter,” + he said, at length, in a disappointed tone. + </p> + <p> + “All I ask is clear evidence, Mr. Dewey. Foregone conclusions have nothing + to do with the matter,” replied Mr. Wallingford, “If you know yourself to + be innocent, you may trust yourself in my hands; if not, I counsel you to + look beyond me to some other man.” + </p> + <p> + “All men are liable to do wrong, Mr. Wallingford; and religion teaches + that the door of repentance is open to every one.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but the just punishment of wrong is always needed for a salutary + repentance. The contrition that springs from fear of consequences, is not + genuine repentance. If you have done wrong, you must take the penalty in + some shape, and I am not the man knowingly to stay the just progression of + either moral or civil law.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you accept a retaining fee, even if not active in my case?” asked + Mr. Dewey. + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the emphatic answer. + </p> + <p> + A dark, despairing shadow fell over the miserable man's face, and he + turned himself away from the only being towards whom he had looked with + any hope in this great extremity of his life. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wallingford retired with pity in his heart. The spectacle was one of + the most painful he had ever witnessed. How was the mighty fallen!—the + proud brought low! As he walked from the prison, the Psalmist's striking + words passed through his mind—“I have seen the wicked in great + power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree; yet he passed away, + and lo, he was not.” + </p> + <p> + When the day of trial came, Mr. Wallingford appeared as counsel for the + creditors of the Clinton Bank, on the side of the prosecution. He did not + show any eagerness to gain his case against the prisoner; but the facts + were so strong, and all the links in the chain of evidence so clear, that + conviction was inevitable. A series of frauds and robberies was exposed, + that filled the community with surprise and indignation; and when the + jury, after a brief consultation, brought in a verdict of guilty, the + expression of delight was general. Detestation of the man's crimes took + away all pity from the common sentiment in regard to him. A sentence of + five years' expiation in the State prison closed the career of Ralph Dewey + in S——-, and all men said: “The retribution is just.” + </p> + <p> + Squire Floyd lost everything, and narrowly escaped the charge of + complicity with Dewey. Nothing but the fact of their known antagonism for + some two or three years, turned the public mind in his favor, and enabled + him to show that what appeared collusion, was only, so far as he was + concerned, fair business operations. With the wreck of his fortune he came + very near making also a wreck of his good name. Even as it was, there were + some in S——who thought the Squire had, in some things, gone + far beyond the rule of strict integrity. + </p> + <p> + Judge Bigelow, thanks to the timely and resolute intervention of Mr. + Wallingford, stood far away from the crashing wrecks, when the storm swept + down in fearful devastation. It raged around, but did not touch him; for + he was safely sheltered, and beyond its reach. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. + </h2> + <p> + Two years have passed since these disastrous events; and twenty years + since the opening of our story. The causes at work in the beginning, have + wrought out their legitimate effects—the tree has ripened its fruits—the + harvest has been gathered. The quiet of old times has fallen upon S——. + It was only a week ago that steps were taken to set the long silent mills + in motion. A company, formed in Boston, has purchased the lower mill, and + rented from Mr. Wallingford the upper one, which was built on the Allen + estate. Squire Floyd, I learn, is to be the manager here for the company. + I am glad of this. Poor man! He was stripped of everything, and has been, + for the past two years, in destitute circumstances. How he has contrived + to live, is almost a mystery. The elegant house which he had built for + himself was taken and sold by creditors, with the furniture, plate, and + all things pertaining thereto, and, broken-spirited, he retired to a small + tenement on the outskirts of the town, where he has since lived. His + unhappy daughter, with her two children, are with him. Her son, old enough + to be put to some business, she has placed in a store, where he is earning + enough to pay his board; while she and her daughter take in what sewing + they can obtain, in order to lessen, as far as possible, the burden of + their maintenance. Alas for her that the father of those children should + be a convicted felon! + </p> + <p> + I move about through S——on my round of duties, and daily there + comes to me some reminder of the events and changes of twenty years. I + see, here and there, a stranded wreck, and think how proudly the vessel + spread her white sails in the wind a few short years gone by, freighted + with golden hopes. But where are those treasures now? Lost, lost forever + in the fathomless sea! + </p> + <p> + Twenty years ago, and now! As a man soweth, even so shall he reap. Spring + time loses itself in luxuriant summer, and autumn follows with the sure + result. If the seed has been good, the fruit will be good; but if a man + have sown only tares in his fields, he must reap in sorrow and not in joy. + There is no exception to the rule. A bramble bush can no more bear grapes, + than a selfish and evil life can produce happiness. The one is a natural, + and the other a spiritual, impossibility. + </p> + <p> + A few days ago, as I was riding along on a visit to one of my patients, I + met Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford, with two of their children, driving out in + their carriage. They stopped, and we were passing a few pleasant words, + when there came by two persons, plainly, almost coarsely dressed—a + mother and her daughter. Both had bundles in their hands. Over the + mother's face a veil was drawn, and as she passed, with evidently + quickening steps, she turned herself partly away. The daughter looked at + us steadily from her calm blue eyes, in which you saw a shade of sadness, + as though already many hopes had failed. Her face was pale and placid, but + touched you with its expression of half-concealed suffering, as if, young + as she was, some lessons of pain and endurance had already been learned. + </p> + <p> + “Who are they?” asked Mrs. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “Delia Floyd and her daughter,” said I. + </p> + <p> + No remark was made. If my ears did not deceive me, I heard a faint sigh + pass the lips of Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + I spoke to my horse, and, bowing mutually, we passed on our ways. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty years ago, and now!” said I to myself, falling into a sober mood, + as thought went back to the sweet, fragrant morning of Delia's life, and I + saw it in contrast with this dreary autumn. “If the young would only take + a lesson like this to heart!” + </p> + <p> + In the evening, Mr. Wallingford called to see me. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been able, all day,” said he, “to get the image of that poor + woman and her daughter out of my mind. What are their circumstances, + Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “They live with Squire Floyd,” I answered, “and he is very poor. I think + Delia and her daughter support themselves by their needles.” + </p> + <p> + “What a fall!” he said, with pity in his tones. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was a sad fall—sad, but salutary, I trust.” + </p> + <p> + “How was she after her separation from Mr. Dewey?” + </p> + <p> + “Very bitter and rebellious, for a time. His marriage seemed to arouse + every evil passion of her nature. I almost shuddered to hear the + maledictions she called down upon the head of his wife one day, when she + rode by in the elegant equipage of which she had once been the proud + owner. She fairly trembled with rage. Since then, the discipline of the + inevitable in life has done its better work. She has grown subdued and + patient, and is doing all a mother in such narrow circumstances can do for + her children.” + </p> + <p> + “What of Dewey's second wife?” asked Mr. Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “She has applied for a divorce from him, on the ground that he is a + convicted felon; and will get a decree in her favor, without doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “What a history!” he exclaimed. Then, after a pause, he asked— + </p> + <p> + “Cannot something be done for Mr. Floyd?” + </p> + <p> + “I have understood,” said I, “that the company about to start the mills + again have engaged him as manager.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? Just what I was thinking,” he replied, with animation. “I + must look after that matter, and see that it does not fall through.” + </p> + <p> + And he was in this, as in all things, as good as his word. It needed only + a favorable intimation from him to decide the company to place their works + in the hands of Squire Floyd, who was a man of skill and experience in + manufacturing, and one in whose integrity the fullest confidence might be + reposed. + </p> + <p> + A month has passed; and Squire Floyd, engaged at a salary of two thousand + dollars a year, is again at the mills, busy in superintending repairs, + improvements, and additions. A few more weeks, and the rattle of industry + will commence, and the old aspect of things show itself in S——. + May the new mill owners be wiser than their predecessors! + </p> + <p> + Squire Floyd has removed from the poor tenement lately the home of his + depressed family, and is back in the pleasant homestead he abandoned years + ago, when pride and ambition impelled him to put on a grander exterior. It + is understood that the company have bought the house, and rent it to him + at a very moderate price. My own impression is, that Mr. Wallingford has + more to do in the matter than people imagine. I am strengthened in this + view, from the fact of having seen Mrs. Wallingford call at the Squire's + twice during the past week. They are in good hands, and I see a better + future in store for them. + </p> + <p> + And now, reader, you have the story I wished to tell. It is full of + suggestion to all who are starting forth upon life's perilous journey. Let + truth, honor, integrity, and humanity, govern all your actions. Do not + make haste to be rich, lest you fall into divers temptations. Keep always + close to the right; and always bear in mind that no wrong is ever done + that does not, sooner or later, return upon the wrong-doer. + </p> + <p> + And above all, gentle maiden, be not dazzled by the condition or prospect + of any who seek your hand. + </p> + <p> + Look away, down, deeply into the character, disposition, and quality; and + if these are not of good seeming, shun the proffered alliance as you would + death. Better, a thousand times, pass through life alone than wed yourself + to inevitable misery. So heeding the moralist, you will not, in the + harvest time which comes to all, look in despair over your barren fields, + but find them golden with Autumn's treasures, that shall fill your + granaries and crown your latter days with blessing. + </p> + <p> + The End. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Allen House, by T. S. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Allen House + or Twenty Years Ago and Now + +Author: T. S. Arthur + +Release Date: October, 2003 [Etext #4588] +Posting Date: January 29, 2010 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ALLEN HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + + + + + +THE ALLEN HOUSE + +OR, TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. + +By T. S. Arthur + +Philadelphia: + +1860 + + + + +PREFACE. + +WE point to two ways in life, and if the young man and maiden, whose +feet are lingering in soft green meadows and flowery walks, will +consider these two ways in sober earnest, before moving onward, and +choose the one that truth and reason tell them leads to honor, success, +and happiness, our book will accomplish its right work for them. It is +a sad thing, after the lapse of twenty years, to find ourselves amid +ruined hopes;--to sit down with folded hands and say, "Thus far life has +been a failure!" Yet, to how many is this the wretched summing up at the +end of a single score of years from the time that reason takes the helm! +Alas! that so few, who start wrong, ever succeed in finding the right +way; life proving, even to its last burdened years, a miserable failure! + + + + + +TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND NOW. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +THE rain had poured in torrents all day, and now, for the third time +since morning, I came home, wet, uncomfortable and weary. I half dreaded +to look at the slate, lest some urgent call should stare me in the face. + +"It must indeed be a case of life and death, that takes me out again +to-night," said I, as my good wife met me in the entry, and with light +hands, made active by love, assisted in the removal of my great coat and +comforter. + +"Now come into the sitting-room," she said, "your slippers are on the +rug, and your dressing-gown warmed and waiting. Tea is ready, and +will be on the table by the time you feel a little comfortable. What a +dreadful day it has been!" + +"Dreadful for those who have been compelled to face the storm," I +remarked, as I drew off my boots, and proceeded to take advantage of all +the pleasant arrangements my thoughtful wife had ready for my solace and +delight. + +It was on my lip to inquire if any one had called since I went out, but +the ringing of the tea-bell sent my thought in a new direction; when, +with my second self leaning on an arm, and my little Aggy holding +tightly by my hand, I moved on to the dining-room, all the disagreeable +things of the day forgotten. + +"Has any one been here?" I asked, as I handed my cup for a third +replenishing. Professional habit was too strong--the query would intrude +itself. + +"Mrs. Wallingford called to see you." + +"Ah! Is anybody sick?" + +"I believe so--but she evaded my inquiry, and said that she wished to +speak a word with the Doctor." + +"She don't want me to call over to-night, I hope. Did she leave any +word?" + +"No. She looked troubled in her mind, I thought." + +"No other call?" + +"Yes. Mary Jones sent word that something was the matter with the baby. +It cried nearly all last night, her little boy said, and to-day has +fever, and lies in a kind of stupor." + +"That case must be seen to," I remarked, speaking to myself. + +"You might let it go over until morning," suggested my wife. "At any +rate, I would let them send again before going. The child may be better +by this time." + +"A call in time may save life here, Constance," I made answer; the sense +of duty growing stronger as the inner and outer man felt the renovating +effects of a good supper, and the brightness and warmth of my pleasant +home. "And life, you know, is a precious thing--even a baby's life." + +And I turned a meaning glance upon the calm, sweet face of our latest +born, as she lay sleeping in her cradle. That was enough. I saw the +tears spring instantly to the eyes of my wife. + +"I have not a word to say. God forbid, that in the weakness of love and +care for you, dear husband, I should draw you aside from duty. Yes--yes! +The life of a baby is indeed a precious thing!" + +And bending over the cradle, she left a kiss on the lips, and a tear +on the pure brow of our darling. Now was I doubly strengthened for the +night. There arose at this instant a wild storm-wail, that shrieked for +a brief time amid the chimneys, and around the eaves of our dwelling, +and then went moaning away, sadly, dying at last in the far distance. +The rain beat heavily against the windows. But I did not waver, nor seek +for reasons to warrant a neglect of duty. "I must see Mary Jones's baby, +and that to-night." I said this to myself, resolutely, by way of answer +to the intimidating storm. + +Mrs. Jones was a widow, and poor. She lived full a quarter of a mile +away. So in deciding to make the visit that night, I hardly think a +very strong element of self-interest was included in the motives that +governed me. But that is irrelevant. + +"As there is no prospect of an abatement in the storm," said I, after +returning to our cosy little sitting-room, "it may be as well for me to +see the baby at once. The visit will be over, so far as I am concerned, +and precious time may be gained for the patient." + +"I will tell Joseph to bring around the horse," said my wife. + +"No--I will walk. Poor beast! He has done enough for one day, and shall +not be taken out again." + +"Horse-flesh is not so precious as man-flesh," Constance smiled +entreatingly, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. "Let Tom be +harnessed up; it won't hurt him." + +"The merciful man is merciful to his beast," I made answer. "If +horse-flesh is cheaper than man-flesh, like most cheap articles, it is +less enduring. Tom must rest, if his master cannot." + +"The decision is final, I suppose." + +"I must say yes." + +"I hardly think your great coat is dry yet," said my wife. "I had it +hung before the kitchen fire. Let me see." + +"You must wait for ten, or fifteen minutes longer," she remarked, on +returning from the kitchen. "One sleeve was completely wetted through, +and I have turned it in order to get the lining dry." + +I sat down and took Agnes on my lap, and was just getting into a +pleasant talk with her, when the door-bell rung. A shadow fell across my +wife's face. + +"People are thoughtless of Doctors," she remarked, a little fretfully, +"and often choose the worst weather and the most untimely seasons to +send for them." + +I did not answer, but listened as the boy went to the door. Some one was +admitted, and shown into the office. + +"Who is it?" I enquired, as Joseph came to the sitting-room. + +"Mrs. Wallingford." + +My wife and I exchanged glances. She looking grave and curious; but no +remark was made. + +"Good-evening, Mrs. Wallingford," said I, on entering my office. "This +is a very bad night for a lady to come out. I hope no one is seriously +ill." + +"I wish you would come over and see our Henry, Doctor." + +There was a choking tremor in her voice; and as I looked in her face, I +saw that it was pale and distressed. + +"What's the matter?" I inquired. + +"I can't say what it is, Doctor. Something's wrong. I'm afraid--yes, I'm +afraid he's going out of his senses." + +And she wrung her hands together with a nervous uneasiness in singular +contrast with her usual quiet exterior. + +"How is he affected?" + +"Well, Doctor, he came home last evening looking as white as a sheet. I +almost screamed out when I saw the strange, suffering expression on his +colorless face. My first thought was that he had fallen somewhere, and +been hurt dreadfully. He tried to pass me without stopping; but I put +both hands on him, and said--'Oh, Henry! what does ail you?' 'Nothing +of any account,' he answered, in a low, husky tone. 'I don't feel right +well, and am going to my room to lie down.' And saying this, he brushed +right past me, and went up stairs. I followed after him, but when I +tried his door it was fastened on the inside. I called three times +before he answered, and then he said--'Mother, I'm not sick; but I feel +bad and want to be alone. Please don't disturb me to-night.' I don't +think I would have known the voice if it hadn't been just then and +there. Knowing his disposition, anxious and troubled as I was, I felt +that it would be best for the time being to let him alone. And I did so. +For an hour or more all in his room was as still as death, and I began +to grow very uneasy. Then I heard his feet upon the floor moving about. +I heard him walk to his bureau--my ears served me for eyes--then to +the mantlepiece, and then to the window. All was still again for some +minutes. My heart beat like a hammer, as one vague suggestion after +another floated through my mind. Then he crossed the room with a slow +step; turned and went back again; and so kept on walking to and fro. +I listened, waiting for the sound to cease; nut he walked on and on, +backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, tramp, tramp, tramp, +until it seemed as if every jarring footfall was on my heart. Oh, +Doctor! I never had anything to affect me so before in my whole life. An +hour passed, and still he walked the floor of his room. I could bear it +no longer, and went and called to him. But he seemed deaf, and made no +reply. I rattled at the lock and called again and again. Then he came +close to the door, and said, speaking a little impatiently for him-- + +'Mother! Mother! For Heaven's sake don't trouble me! I don't feel just +right, and you must let me alone for the present.' + +"Well, he kept on walking for an hour longer, and then everything was +still in his room for the night. This morning on trying his door it was +unfastened. I went in. He was lying in bed wide awake. But, oh! such a +change as I saw in his face. It was colorless as on the evening before; +but less expressive of emotion. A dead calm seemed to have settled upon +it. I took his hand; it was cold. I pressed his forehead; it was cold +also. 'Henry, my son, how are you?' I asked. He did not reply; but +looked in my face with a cold, steady gaze that chilled me. 'Are you +sick, my son?' He merely shook his head slowly. 'Has anything happened? +What has happened?' I pressed my question upon him; but it was of no +use. He would not satisfy me. I then asked if he would not rise. 'Not +yet,' he said. 'Shall I bring you some breakfast?' 'No--no--I cannot +eat.' And he shook his head and shut his eyes, while there came into his +face a look so sad and suffering that as I gazed on him I could not keep +the tears back. + +"And it has been no better with him all the day, Doctor," added Mrs. +Wallingford, heaving a long sigh. "Oh, I am distressed to death about +it. Won't you come and see him? I'm afraid if something isn't done that +he will lose his senses." + +"Have you no conjecture as to the cause of this strange condition of +mind?" I asked. + +"None," she replied. "Henry is a reserved young man, you know, Doctor; +and keeps many things hidden in his mind even from me that should be +outspoken." + +"Has he no love affair on hand?" + +"I think not." + +"Hasn't he been paying attention to Squire Floyd's daughter?" + +"Delia?" + +"Yes." + +"I believe not, Doctor." + +"I've seen him at the Squire's." + +"Nothing serious, or I should have known of it. Henry is rather shy +about the girls." + +"And you wish me to see him to-night?" + +"Yes. Something ought to be done." + +"What is his condition just now?" I inquired. "How did you leave him?" + +"He's been in bed nearly all day, and hasn't touched a mouthful. To all +my persuasions and entreaties he answers--'Please, mother, let me alone. +I will be better after a while.'" + +"I think," said I, after musing on the case, "that, may be, the +let-alone prescription will be the best one for the present. He is +prostrated by some strong mental emotion--that seems clear; and time +must be given for the mind to regain its equipoise. If I were to call, +as you desire, it might annoy or irritate him, and so do more harm than +good. No medicine that I can give is at all likely to reach his case." + +Mrs. Wallingford looked disappointed, and demurred strongly to my +conclusion. + +"I'm sure, Doctor, if you saw him you might suggest something. Or, may +be, he would open his mind to you." + +"I'll think it over," said I. "Mrs. Jones has sent for me to see her +baby to-night. I was just about starting when you called. On my way +back, if, on reflection, it seems to me advisable, I will drop in at +your house." + +"Call at any rate, Doctor," urged Mrs. Wallingford. "Even if you don't +see Henry, you may be able to advise me as to what I had better do." + +I gave my promise, and the troubled mother went back through storm and +darkness to her home. By this time my overcoat was thoroughly dried. As +Constance brought it forth warm from the fire, she looked into my face +with an expression of inquiry. But I was not ready to speak in regard to +Mrs. Wallingford, and, perceiving this at a glance, she kept silence on +that subject. + +As I opened the front door, the storm swept into my face; but I passed +out quickly into the night, and shielding myself with an umbrella, as +best I could, bent to the rushing wind, and took my solitary way in +the direction of Mrs. Jones's humble dwelling, which lay quite upon the +outskirts of our town. To reach my destination, I had to pass the Old +Allen House, which stood within a high stone enclosure, surrounded by +stately elms a century old, which spread their great arms above and +around the decaying mansion, as if to ward off the encroachments of +time. As I came opposite the gate opening upon the carriage way, I +stopped suddenly in surprise, for light streamed out from both windows +of the north-west chamber, which I knew had been closed ever since the +death of Captain Allen, who passed to his account several years before. + +This Allen House was one of the notable places in our town; and the +stories in circulation touching the Allen family, now almost extinct, +were so strongly tinctured with romance, that sober-minded people +generally received them with a large measure of incredulity. + +The spacious old two-story mansion, with its high-pitched roof and rows +of dormer windows, was built by the father of Captain Allen, who had +also followed the sea, and, it was said, obtained his large wealth +through means not sanctioned by laws human or divine. Men and women of +the past generation, and therefore contemporaries, did not hesitate to +designate him an "old pirate," though always the opprobrious words +were spoken in an undertone, for people were half afraid of the dark, +reserved, evil-looking man, who had evidently passed a large portion of +his life among scenes of peril and violence. There were more pleasing +traditions of the beautiful wife he brought home to grace the luxurious +dwelling he had fitted up in a style of almost princely splendor, +compared with the plain abode of even the best off people in town. Who +she was, or from whence she came, no one knew certainly. She was very +young--almost a child--when the elder Captain Allen brought her to +S----. + +Very little intercourse, I believe, passed between the Allen family and +the town's-people, except in a business way. The first regular entry +made into the house beyond the formal drawing-room, was on the occasion +of a birth, when the best nurse and gossip in town was summoned to +attend the young mistress. A son was born. He was called John; though +not under the sign of Christian baptism--John Allen; afterwards Captain +Allen. The old sea-dog, his father, was absent at the time; but returned +before the infant was four weeks old. The nurse described the meeting +of husband and wife as very lover-like and tender on his part, but with +scarcely a sign of feeling on hers. She did not repel him, nor turn from +him; but received his caresses with the manner of one in whom all quick +emotion had died. And so it continued between them--he thoughtful and +assiduous, and she cold, and for the most part silent. But, to her babe, +the young mother was passionate at times in her loving demonstrations. +The pent up waters of feeling gave way in this direction, and poured +themselves out, often, in a rushing flood. Towards all others she bore +herself with a calm, sweet dignity of manner, that captivated the heart, +and made it sigh for a better acquaintance with one around whom mystery +had hung a veil that no hand but her own could push aside--and that hand +was never lifted. + +The next event in the Allen House, noted by the people, was the birth of +a daughter. The same nurse was called in, who remained the usual time, +and then retired; bearing with her a history of the period, which she +related, very confidentially, at tea-tables, and in familiar gossip with +choice spirits of her own. + +Those who knew her best, were always something in doubt as to which +of her stories contained truth and which romance. The latter element +mingled largely, it is presumed, in all of them. + +A great change had taken place in the Captain's manner. He no longer +played the lover to a cold and distant mistress, but carried himself +haughtily at times--captiously at times--and always with an air of +indifference. All affection seemed transferred to his boy, who was +growing self-willed, passionate, and daring. These qualities were never +repressed by his father, but rather encouraged and strengthened. On +learning that his next heir was a daughter, he expressed impatience, and +muttered something about its being strangled at birth. The nurse said +that he never deigned even to look at it while she was in the house. + +The beautiful young wife showed signs of change, also. Much of the old +sweetness had left her mouth, which was calmer and graver. Her manner +towards Captain Allen, noted before, was of the same quiet, distant +character, but more strongly marked. It was plain that she had no love +for him. The great mystery was, how two so wholly unlike in all internal +qualities, and external seeming, could ever have been constrained into +the relationship, of man and wife. She was, evidently, an English woman. +This was seen in her rich complexion, sweet blue eyes, fair hair, and +quiet dignity of manner. Among the many probable and improbable rumors +as to her first meeting with Captain Allen, this one had currency. A +sailor, who had seen a good deal of service in the West Indies, told the +following story: + +An English vessel from Jamaica, richly freighted, had on board a +merchant with his family, returning from a residence of a few years on +the island, to the mother country. + +They had been out only a day, when a pirate bore down upon them, and +made an easy capture of the ship. The usual bloody scenes of that day +followed. Death, in terrible forms, met the passengers and crew, and the +vessel, after being robbed of its costliest treasures, was scuttled and +sent down into the far depths of the ocean, from whence no sign could +ever come. + +But one living soul was spared--so the story went. An only child of +the English merchant, a fair and beautiful young girl, whose years had +compassed only the early spring-time of life, flung herself upon her +knees before the pirate Captain and begged so piteously for life, +that he spared her from the general slaughter he had himself decreed. +Something in her pure, exquisitely beautiful face, touched his +compassion. There were murmurs of discontent among his savage crew. But +the strong-willed Captain had his way, and when he sailed back with +his booty to their place of rendezvous, he bore with him the beautiful +maiden. Here, it was said, he gave her honorable protection, and had her +cared for as tenderly as was possible under the circumstances. And it +was further related, that, when the maiden grew to ripe womanhood, he +abandoned the trade of a buccaneer and made her his wife. The sailor +told this story, shrugged his shoulders, looked knowing and mysterious, +and left his auditors to draw what inference they pleased. As they had +been talking of Captain Allen, the listeners made their own conclusion +as to his identity with the buccaneer. True to human nature, in its +inclination to believe always the worst of a man, nine out of ten +credited the story as applied to the cut-throat looking captain, and so, +after this, it was no unusual thing to hear him designated by the not +very flattering sobriquet of the "old pirate." + +Later events, still more inexplicable in their character, and yet +unexplained, gave color to this story, and invested it with the elements +of probability. As related, the old gossip's second intrusion upon the +Aliens, in the capacity of nurse, furnished the town's-people with a few +additional facts, as to the state of things inside of a dwelling, upon +whose very walls seemed written mystery. In the beginning, Mrs. Allen +had made a few acquaintances, who were charmed with her character, as +far as she let herself be known. Visits were made and returned for a +short season. But after the birth of her first child, she went abroad +but rarely, and ceasing to return all visits, social intercourse came to +an end. The old nurse insisted that this was not her fault, but wholly +chargeable upon the Captain, who, she was certain, had forbidden his +wife to have anything to do with the town's-people. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +One day, nearly two years after the birth of this second child, +the quiet town of S----was aroused from its dreams by a strange and +startling event. About a week before, a handsomely dressed man, with the +air of a foreigner, alighted from the stage coach at the "White +Swan," and asked if he could have a room. A traveler of such apparent +distinction was a rare event in S----; and as he suggested the probable +stay of a week or so, he became an object of immediate attention, as +well as curiosity. + +Night had closed in when he arrived, and as he was fatigued by his +journey in the old lumbering stage coach that ran between the nearest +sea-port town and S----, he did not show himself again that evening to +the curious people who were to be found idling about the "White Swan." +But he had a talk with the landlord. That functionary waited upon him to +know his pleasure as to supper. + +"The ride has given me a headache," the stranger said, "which a cup of +tea will probably remove. Beyond that, I will take nothing to-night. +Your name is--" + +"Adams, sir. Adams is my name," replied the landlord. + +"And mine is Willoughby--Col. Willoughby." And the Englishman bowed with +a slight air of condescension. + +"I am at your service, Col. Willoughby," said the landlord in his blunt +way. "Just say what you want, and the thing is done." + +"A cup of tea will serve me to-night, my friend. Let it be good and +strong; for my head is a little unsettled with this throbbing pain. +That stage coach of yours would be something better for a pair of new +springs." + +"It's seen service, and no mistake. But people in these parts don't +calculate much on easy riding. Springs are no great account. We look to +the main chance." + +"What is that?" + +"Getting over the ground." + +The traveler smiled to himself in a quiet way, as if the landlord's +answer had touched some memory or experience. + +Nothing further being remarked, Mr. Adams retired to order a cup of +tea for his guest. Something about the Englishman had stimulated his +curiosity; and, so, instead of sending the cup of tea by his wife, who +did most of the waiting, he carried it to the room himself. + +"Sit down, Mr. Adams," said the traveler, after the tea had been put +before him. + +The landlord did not wait for a second invitation. + +"I hope the tea is to your liking, sir." + +"Excellent. I've not tasted better since I left London." + +The traveler spoke blandly, as he held his cup a little way from his +lips, and looked over the top of it at his host with something more than +a casual glance. He was reading his face with an evident effort to gain +from it, as an index, some clear impression of his character. + +"My wife understands her business," replied the flattered landlord. +"There is not her equal in all the country round." + +"I can believe you, Mr. Adams. Already this delicious beverage has acted +like a charmed potion. My headache has left me as if by magic." + +He set his cup down; moved his chair a little way from the table at +which he was sitting, and threw a pleasant look upon the landlord. + +"How long have you been in this town, Mr. Adams?" The question seemed +indifferently asked; but the landlord's ear did not fail to perceive in +the tone in which it was given, a foreshadowing of much beyond. + +"I was born here," he replied. + +"Ah! Then you know all the people, I imagine?" + +"I know all their faces, at least." + +"And their histories and characters?" + +"Perhaps." + +Something in this "perhaps," and the tone in which it was uttered, +seemed not to strike the questioner agreeably. He bent his brows a +little, and looked more narrowly at the landlord. + +"I did not see much of your town as I came in this evening. How large is +it?" + +"Middling good size, sir, for an inland town," was the not very +satisfactory answer. + +"What is the population?" + +"Well, I don't know--can't just say to a certainty." + +"Two thousand?" + +"Laws! no sir! Not over one, if that." + +"About a thousand, then?" + +"Maybe a thousand, and maybe not more than six or seven hundred." + +"Call it seven hundred, then," said the traveler, evidently a little +amused. + +"And that will, in my view, be calling it enough." + +There was a pause. The traveler seemed in doubt as to whether he should +go on with his queries. + +"Not much trade here, I presume?" He asked, at length. + +"Not much to boast of," said Adams. + +Another pause. + +"Any well-to-do people? Gentlemen who live on their means?" + +"Yes; there's Aaron Thompson. He's rich, I guess. But you can't measure +a snake 'till he's dead, as they say." + +"True," said the traveler, seeming to fall into the landlord's mood. +"Executors often change the public estimate of a man as to this world's +goods. So, Aaron Thompson is one of your rich men?" + +"Yes, and there's Abel Reeder--a close-fisted old dog, but wealthy as a +Jew, and no mistake. Then there is Captain Allen." + +A flash of interest went over the stranger's face, which was turned at +once from the light. + +"Captain Allen! And what of him?" The voice was pitched to a lower tone; +but there was no appearance of special curiosity. + +"A great deal of him." The landlord put on a knowing look. + +"Is he a sea captain?" + +"Yes;" and lowering his voice, "something else besides, if we are to +credit people who pretend to know." + +"Ah! but you speak in riddles, Mr. Adams. What do you mean by something +more?" + +"Why, the fact is, Mr. Willoughby, they do say, that he got his money in +a backhanded sort of fashion." + +"By gambling?" + +"No, sir! By piracy!" + +Col. Willoughby gave a real or affected start. + +"A grave charge that, sir." He looked steadily at the landlord. "And one +that should not be lightly made." + +"I only report the common talk." + +"If such talk should reach the ears of Captain Allen?" suggested the +stranger. + +"No great likelihood of its doing so, for I reckon there's no man in +S----bold enough to say 'pirate' to his face." + +"What kind of a man is he?" + +"A bad specimen in every way." + +"He's no favorite of yours, I see?" + +"I have no personal cause of dislike. We never had many words together," +said the landlord. "But he's a man that you want to get as far away from +as possible. There are men, you know, who kind of draw you towards them, +as if they were made of loadstone; and others that seem to push you off. +Captain Allen is one of the latter kind." + +"What sort of a looking man is he?" + +"Short; thick-set; heavily built, as to body. A full, coarse face; dark +leathery skin; and eyes that are a match for the Evil One's. There is a +deep scar across his left forehead, running past the outer corner of +his eye, and ending against the cheek bone. The lower lid of this eye +is drawn down, and the inside turned out, showing its deep red lining. +There is another scar on his chin. Two fingers are gone from his left +hand, and his right hand has suffered violence." + +"He has evidently seen hard service," remarked the stranger, and in a +voice that showed him to be suppressing, as best he could, all signs of +interest in the landlord's communication. + +"There's no mistake about that; and if you could only see him, my word +for it, you would fall into the common belief that blood lies upon his +conscience." + +"I shall certainly put myself in the way of seeing him, after the spur +you have just given to my curiosity," said Col. Willoughby, in a decided +manner, as if he had an interest in the man beyond what the landlord's +communication had excited. + +"Then you will have to remain here something more than a week, I'm +thinking," replied the landlord. + +"Why so?" + +"Captain Allen isn't at home." + +There was a sudden change in the stranger's face that did not escape the +landlord's notice. But whether it indicated pleasure or disappointment, +he could not tell; for it was at best a very equivocal expression. + +"Not at home!" His voice indicated surprise. + +"No, sir." + +"How long has he been absent?" + +"About a month." + +"And is expected to return soon, no doubt?" + +"As to that, I can't say. Few people in this town I apprehend, can speak +with certainty as to the going and coming of Captain Allen." + +"Is he often away?" + +"No, sir; but oftener of late than formerly." + +"Is his absence usually of a prolonged character?" + +"It is much longer than it used to be--never less than a month, and +often extended to three times that period." + +Colonel Willoughby sat without further remark for some time, his eyes +bent down, his brows contracted by thought, and his lips firmly drawn +together. + +"Thank you, my friend," he said, at length, looking up, "for your +patience in answering my idle questions. I will not detain you any +longer." + +The landlord arose, and, bowing to his guest, retired from the +apartment. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +On the next morning Colonel Willoughby plied the landlord with a few +more questions about Captain Allen, and then, inquiring the direction of +his house, started out, as he said, to take a ramble through the town. +He did not come back until near dinner time, and then he showed no +disposition to encourage familiarity on the part of Mr. Adams. But that +individual was not in the dark touching the morning whereabouts of his +friend. A familiar of his, stimulated by certain good things which the +landlord knew when and how to dispense, had tracked the stranger from +the "White Swan" to Captain Allen's house. After walking around it, on +the outside of the enclosure once or twice, and viewing it on all sides, +he had ventured, at last, through the gate, and up to the front door of +the stately mansion. A servant admitted him, and the landlord's familiar +loitered around for nearly three hours before he came out. Mrs. Allen +accompanied him to the door, and stood and talked with him earnestly +for some time in the portico. They shook hands in parting, and Colonel +Willoughby retired with a firm, slow step, and his eyes bent downwards +as if his thoughts were sober, if not oppressive. + +All this Mr. Adams knew; and of course, his curiosity was pitched to a +high key. But, it was all in vain that he threw himself in the way +of his guest, made leading remarks, and even asked if he had seen the +splendid dwelling of Captain Allen. The handsome stranger held him +firmly at a distance. And not only on that day and evening, but on the +next day and the next. He was polite even to blandness, but suffered no +approach beyond the simplest formal intercourse. Every morning he was +seen going to Captain Allen's house, where he always stayed several +hours. The afternoons he spent, for the most part, in his own room. + +All this soon became noised throughout the town of S----, and there was +a little world of excitement, and all manner of conjectures, as to who +this Colonel Willoughby might be. The old nurse, of whom mention has +been made, presuming upon her professional acquaintance with Mrs. Allen, +took the liberty of calling in one afternoon, when, to her certain +knowledge, the stranger was in the house. She was, however, disappointed +in seeing him. The servant who admitted her showed her into a small +reception-room, on the opposite side of the hall from the main parlor, +and here Mrs. Allen met her. She was "very sweet to her"--to use her own +words--sweet, and kind, and gentle as ever. But she looked paler than +usual, and did not seem to be at ease. + +The nurse reported that something was going wrong; but, as to its exact +nature, she was in the dark. It certainly didn't look right for Mrs. +Allen to be receiving daily the visits of an elegant looking stranger, +and her husband away. There was only one opinion on this head. + +And so it went on from day to day for nearly a week--Colonel Willoughby, +as he had called himself, spending the greater part of every morning +with Mrs. Allen, and hiding himself from curious eyes, during the +afternoons, in his room at the "White Swan." Then came the denouement to +this exciting little drama. + +One day the stranger, after dining, asked Mr. Adams for his bill, which +he paid in British gold. He then gave directions to have a small trunk, +the only baggage he had with him, sent to the house of Captain Allen. + +The landlord raised his eyebrows, of course; looked very much surprised, +and even ventured a curious question. But the stranger repelled all +inquisition touching his movements. And so he left the "White Swan," +after sojourning there for nearly a week, and the landlord never saw him +again. + +The news which came on the following day, created no little sensation in +S----. Jacob Perkins, who lived near Captain Allen's, and often worked +for him, told the story. His relation was to this effect: About +ten o'clock at night, Mrs. Allen sent for him, and he waited on her +accordingly. He found her dressed as for a journey, but alone. + +"Take a seat, Jacob," she said. "I wish to have some talk with you." The +man noticed something unusual in her talk and manner. + +"Jacob," she resumed, after a pause, bending towards Mr. Perkins, "can +I trust you in a matter requiring both service and secrecy? I have done +some kind things for you and yours; I now wish you to return the favor." + +As she spoke, she drew out a purse, and let him see something of its +golden contents. + +"Say on, Mrs. Allen. You may trust me. If you ask anything short of a +crime, it shall be done. Yes, you have been kind to me and mine, and now +I will repay you, if in my power to do so." + +Jacob Perkins was in earnest. But, whether gratitude, or that apparition +of golden sovereigns, had most influence upon him, cannot at this remote +period be said. + +"Can you get a pair of horses and a carriage, or light wagon, to-night?" + +"I can," replied Jacob. + +"And so as not to excite undue curiosity?" + +"I think so." + +"Very well. Next, will you drive that team all night?" + +And Mrs. Allen played with the purse of gold, and let the coins it +contained strike each other with a musical chink, very pleasant to the +ear of Jacob Perkins. + +"You shall be paid handsomely for your trouble," added the lady, as +she fixed her beautiful blue eyes upon Jacob with an earnest, almost +pleading look. + +"I hope there is nothing wrong," said Jacob, as some troublesome +suspicions began turning themselves over in his mind. + +"Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!" And Mrs. Allen lifted her pale +face reverently upwards. + +"Forgive me, madam; I might have known that," said Jacob. "And now, if +you will give me your orders, they shall be obeyed to the letter." + +"Thank you, my kind friend," returned Mrs. Allen. "The service you are +now about to render me, cannot be estimated in the usual way. To me, it +will be far beyond all price." + +She was agitated, and paused to recover herself. Then she resumed, with +her usual calmness of manner-- + +"Bring the carriage here--driving with as little noise as possible--in +half an hour. Be very discreet. Don't mention the matter even to your +wife. You can talk with her as freely as you choose on your return from +Boston." + +"From Boston? Why, that is thirty miles away, at least!" + +"I know it, Jacob; but I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. You +know the road?" + +"Every foot of it." + +"So much the better. And now go for the carriage." + +Jacob Perkins arose. As he was turning to go, Mrs. Allen placed her hand +upon his shoulder, and said-- + +"I can trust you, Mr. Perkins?" + +"Madam, you can," was his reply; and he passed from the quiet house into +the darkness without. The night was moonless, but the stars shone down +from an unclouded sky. When Jacob Perkins found himself alone, and began +to look this adventure full in the face, some unpleasant doubts touching +the part he was about to play, intruded themselves upon his thoughts. He +had seen the handsome stranger going daily to visit Mrs. Allen, for now +nearly a week, and had listened to the town talk touching the matter, +until his own mind was filled with the common idea, that something was +wrong. And now, to be called on to drive Mrs. Allen to Boston, secretly, +and under cover of the night, seemed so much like becoming a party to +some act of folly or crime, that he gave way to hesitation, and began +to seek for reasons that would justify his playing the lady false. Then +came up the image of her sweet, reverent face, as she said so earnestly, +"Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!" And his first purpose was +restored. + +Punctually, at half-past ten o'clock, the team of Jacob Perkins drove +noiselessly in through the gate, and up the carriage-way to the door +of the Allen mansion. No lights were visible in any part of the house. +Under the portico were two figures, a man and a woman--the man holding +something in his arms, which, on a closer observation, Jacob saw to be a +child. Two large trunks and a small one stood near. + +"Put them on the carriage," said Mrs. Allen, in a low, steady voice; +and Jacob obeyed in silence. When all was ready, she got in, and the man +handed her the sleeping child, and then took his place beside her. + +"To Boston, remember, Jacob; and make the time as short as possible." + +No other words were spoken. Jacob led his horses down the carriage-way +to the gate, which he closed carefully after passing through; and then +mounting to his seat, drove off rapidly. + +But little conversation took place between Mrs. Allen and her traveling +companion; and that was in so low a tone of voice, that Jacob Perkins +failed to catch a single word, though he bent his ear and listened with +the closest attention whenever he heard a murmur of voices. + +It was after daylight when they arrived in Boston, where Jacob Perkins +left them, and returned home with all speed, to wake up the town of +S----with a report of his strange adventure. Before parting with Mrs. +Allen, she gave him a purse, which, on examination, was found to contain +a hundred dollars in gold. She also placed in his hand a small gold +locket, and said, impressively, while her almost colorless lips +quivered, and her bosom struggled with its pent up feelings-- + +"Jacob, when my son--he is now absent with his father--reaches his tenth +year, give him this, and say that it is a gift from his mother, and +contains a lock of her hair. Can I trust you faithfully to perform this +office of love?" + +Tears filled her eyes; then her breast heaved with a great sob. + +"As Heaven is my witness, madam," answered Jacob Perkins, "it shall be +done." + +"Remember," she said, "that you are only to give this to John, and not +until his tenth year. Keep my gift sacred from the knowledge of every +one until that time, and then let the communication be to him alone." + +Jacob Perkins promised to do according to her wishes, and then left her +looking so pale, sad, and miserable, that, to use his own words, "he +never could recall her image as she stood looking, not at him, but past +him, as if trying to explore the future, without thinking of some marble +statue in a grave-yard." + +She was never seen in S----again. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The excitement in the little town of S----, when Jacob returned from +Boston, and told his singular story, may well be imagined. The whole +community was in a buzz. + +It was found that Mrs. Allen had so arranged matters, as to get all +the servants away from the house, on one pretence or another, for +that night, except an old negro woman, famous for her good sleeping +qualities; and she was in the land of forgetfulness long before the hour +appointed for flight. + +Many conjectures were made, and one or two rather philanthropic +individuals proposed, as a common duty, an attempt to arrest the +fugitives and bring them back. But there were none to second this, the +general sentiment being, that Captain Allen was fully competent to look +after his own affairs. And that he wood look after them, and promptly +too, on his return, none doubted for an instant. As for Jacob Perkins, +no one professed a willingness to stand in his shoes. The fire-eating +Captain would most probably blow that gentleman's brains out in the +heat of his first excitement. Poor Jacob, not a very courageous man, +was almost beside himself with fear, when his view of the case was +confidently asserted. One advised this course of conduct on the part of +Jacob, and another advised that, while all agreed that it would on no +account be safe for him to fall in the Captain's way immediately on his +return. More than a dozen people, friends of Jacob, were on the alert, +to give him the earliest intelligence of Captain Allen's arrival in +S----, that he might hide himself until the first fearful outbreak of +passion was over. + +Well, in about two weeks the Captain returned with his little son. +Expectation was on tip-toe. People's hearts beat in their mouths. There +were some who would not have been surprised at any startling occurrence; +an apparition of the scarred sea-dog, rushing along the streets, +slashing his sword about like a madman, would have seemed to them +nothing extraordinary, under the circumstances. + +But expectation stood so long on tip-toe that it grew tired, and came +down a few inches. Nothing occurred to arouse the quiet inhabitants. +Captain Allen was seen to enter his dwelling about two o'clock in the +afternoon, and although not less than twenty sharp pairs of eyes were +turned in that direction, and never abated their vigilance until night +drew down her curtains, no one got even a glimpse of his person. + +Jacob Perkins left the town, and took refuge with a neighbor living two +miles away, on the first intimation of the Captain's return. + +The next day passed, but no one saw the Captain. On the third day a +member of the inquisitorial committee, who had his house under constant +observation, saw him drive out with his son, and take the road that +went direct to the neighborhood where Jacob Perkins lay concealed in the +house of a friend. + +Poor Jacob! None doubted but the hour of retribution for him was at +hand. That he might have timely warning, if possible, a lad was sent +out on a fleet horse, who managed to go by Captain Allen's chaise on the +road. Pale with affright, the unhappy fugitive hid himself under a hay +rick, and remained there for an hour. But the Captain passed through +without pause or inquiry, and in due course of time returned to his +home, having committed no act in the least degree notable. + +And so, as if nothing unusual had happened, he was seen, day after day, +going about as of old, with not a sign of change in his deportment that +any one could read. In a week, Jacob Perkins returned to his home, fully +assured that no harm was likely to visit him. + +No event touching Captain Allen or his family, worthy of record, +transpired for several years. The only servants in the house were negro +slaves, brought from a distance, and kept as much as possible away from +others of their class in town. Among these, the boy, John, grew up. When +he was ten years old, Jacob Perkins, though in some fear, performed the +sacred duty promised to his mother on that memorable morning, when he +looked upon her pale, statuesque countenance for the last time. A flush +covered the boy's face, as he received the locket, and understood from +whence it came. He stood for some minutes, wholly abstracted, as if +under the spell of some vivid memory. + +Tears at length filled his eyes, and glistened on the long fringed +lashes. Then there was a single, half-repressed sob--and then, grasping +the locket tightly in his hand, he turned from Jacob, and, without a +word, walked hastily away. + +When the boy was sixteen, Captain Allen took him to sea. From that +period for many years, both of them were absent for at least two-thirds +of the time. At twenty-five, John took command of a large merchant-man, +trading to the South American coast, and his father, now worn down by +hard service, as well as by years, retired to his home in S----, to +close up there, in such repose of mind as he could gain, the last days +of his eventful life. He died soon after by apoplexy. + +Prior to this event, his son, the younger Captain Allen, had brought +home from Cuba a Spanish woman, who took the name of his wife. Of her +family, or antecedents, no one in our town knew anything; and it was +questioned by many whether any rite of marriage had ever been celebrated +between them. Of this, however, nothing certain was known. None of the +best people, so called, in S----paid her the hospitable compliment of a +visit; and she showed no disposition to intrude herself upon them. +And so they stood towards each other as strangers; and the Allen house +remained, as from the beginning, to most people a terra incognita. + +Neither Captain Allen nor his Spanish consort, to whom no children +were born, as they advanced in years, "grew old gracefully." Both +had repulsive features, which were strongly marked by passion and +sensuality. During the last two years of his life I was frequently +called to see him, and prescribe for his enemy, the gout, by which he +was sorely afflicted. Mrs. Allen also required treatment. Her nervous +system was disordered; and, on closer observation, I detected signs of a +vagrant imagination, leading her away into states verging upon insanity. +She was fretful and ill-tempered; and rarely spoke to the Captain except +complainingly, or in anger. The visits I made to the Allen house, during +the lifetime of Captain Allen, were among the most unsatisfactory of +all my professional calls. I think, from signs which met my eyes, +that something more than bitter words passed occasionally between the +ill-matched couple. + +Late in the day, nearly five years anterior to the time of which I am +now writing, I was summoned in haste to visit Captain Allen. I found him +lying on a bed in the north-west chamber, where he usually slept, in +a state of insensibility. Mrs. Allen received me at the door of the +chamber with a frightened countenance. On inquiry as to the cause of +his condition, she informed me that he had gone to his own room about an +hour before, a little the worse for a bottle of wine; and that she had +heard nothing more from him, until she was startled by a loud, jarring +noise in his chamber. On running up stairs, she found him lying upon the +floor, insensible. + +I looked at her steadily, as she gave me this relation, but could not +hold her eyes in mine. She seemed more uneasy than troubled. There was +a contused wound just below the right temple, which covered, with its +livid stain, a portion of the cheek. A cursory examination satisfied me +that, whatever might be the cause of his fall, congestion of the brain +had occurred, and that but few chances for life remained. So I informed +Mrs. Allen. At the words, I could see a shudder run through her frame, +and an expression of something like terror sweep over her face. + +"His father died of apoplexy," said she in a hoarse whisper, looking at +me with a side-long, almost stealthy glance, not full and open-eyed. + +"This is something more than apoplexy," I remarked; still observing her +closely. + +"The fall may have injured him," she suggested. + +"The blow on his temple has done the fearful work," said I. + +There was a perceptible start, and another look of fear-almost terror. + +"For heaven's sake, doctor," she said, rousing herself, and speaking +half imperatively, "do something! Don't stand speculating about the +cause; but do something if you have any skill." + +Thus prompted, I set myself to work, in good earnest, with my patient. +The result was in no way flattering to my skill, for he passed to his +account in less than an hour, dying without a sign. + +I shall never forget the wild screams which rang awfully through the old +mansion, when it was announced to Mrs. Allen that the Captain was dead. +She flung herself upon his body, tore her hair, and committed other +extravagances. All the slumbering passions of her undisciplined nature +seemed quickened into sudden life, overmastering her in their strong +excitement. So it would have seemed to a less suspicious observer; but I +thought that I could detect the overacting of pretence. I may have +done her wrong; but the impression still remains. At the funeral, this +extravagant role of grief was re-enacted, and the impression was left on +many minds that she was half mad with grief. + +Occasionally, after this event, I was summoned to the Allen House to see +its unhappy mistress. I say unhappy, for no human being ever had a face +written all over with the characters you might read in hers, that was +not miserable. I used to study it, sometimes, to see if I could get +anything like a true revelation of her inner life. The sudden lighting +up of her countenance at times, as you observed its rapidly varying +expression, made you almost shudder, for the gleam which shot across it +looked like a reflection from hell. I know no other word to express what +I mean. Remorse, at times, I could plainly read. + +One thing I soon noticed; the room in which Captain Allen died--the +north-west chamber before mentioned--remained shut up; and an old +servant told me, years afterwards, that Mrs. Allen had never been inside +of it since the fatal day on which I attended him in his last moments. + +At the time when this story opens the old lady was verging on to sixty. +The five years which had passed since she was left alone had bent her +form considerably, and the diseased state of mind which I noticed when +first called in to visit the family as a physician, was now but a +little way removed from insanity. She was haunted by many strange +hallucinations; and the old servant above alluded to, informed me, that +she was required to sleep in the room with her mistress, as she never +would be alone after dark. Often, through the night, she would start up +in terror, her diseased imagination building up terrible phantoms in the +land of dreams, alarming the house with her cries. + +I rarely visited her that I did not see new evidences of waning reason. +In the beginning I was fearful that she might do some violence to +herself or her servants, but her insanity began to assume a less +excitable form; and at last she sank into a condition of torpor, both of +mind and body, from which I saw little prospect of her ever rising. + +"It is well," I said to myself. "Life had better wane slowly away than +to go out in lurid gleams like the flashes of a dying volcano." + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +And now, reader, after this long digression, you can understand my +surprise at seeing broad gleams of light reaching out into the darkness +from the windows of that north-west chamber, as I breasted the storm +on my way to visit the sick child of Mary Jones. No wonder that I stood +still and looked up at those windows, though the rain beat into my face, +half blinding me. The shutters were thrown open, and the curtains drawn +partly aside. I plainly saw shadows on the ceiling and walls as of +persons moving about the room. Did my eyes deceive me? Was not that the +figure of a young girl that stood for a moment at the window trying to +pierce with her eyes the thick veil of night? I was still in doubt when +the figure turned away, and only gave me a shadow on the wall. + +I lingered in front of the old house for some minutes, but gaining no +intelligence of what was passing within, I kept on my way to the +humbler dwelling of Mary Jones. I found her child quite ill, and needing +attention. After doing what, in my judgment, the case required, I turned +my steps towards the house of Mrs. Wallingford to look into the case +of her son Henry, who, according to her account, was in a very unhappy +condition. + +I went a little out of my way so as to go past the Allen House again. +As I approached, my eyes were directed to the chamber windows at the +north-west corner, and while yet some distance away, as the old elms +tossed their great limbs about in struggling with the storm, I saw +glancing out between them the same cheery light that met my astonished +gaze a little while before. As then, I saw shadows moving on the walls, +and once the same slender, graceful figure--evidently that of a young +girl--came to the window and tried to look out into the deep darkness. + +As there was nothing to be gained by standing there in the drenching +storm, I moved onward, taking the way to Mrs. Wallingford's dwelling. I +had scarcely touched the knocker when the door was opened, and by Mrs. +Wallingford herself. + +"Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad you've come!" she said in a low, troubled +voice. + +I stepped in out of the rain, gave her my dripping umbrella, and laid +off my overcoat. + +"How is Henry now?" I asked. + +She put her finger to her lip, and said, in a whisper, + +"Just the same, Doctor--just the same. Listen! Don't you hear him +walking the floor overhead? I've tried to get him to take a cup of tea, +but he won't touch any thing. All I can get out of him is--'Mother--dear +mother--leave me to myself. I shall come right again. Only leave me to +myself now.' But, how can I let him go on in this way? Oh, Doctor, I +am almost beside myself! What can it all mean? Something dreadful has +happened." + +I sat listening and reflecting for something like ten minutes. Steadily, +from one side the room overhead to the other, went the noise of feet; +now slowly, now with a quicker motion: and now with a sudden tramp, that +sent the listener's blood with a start along its courses. + +"Won't you see him, doctor?" + +I did not answer at once, for I was in the dark as to what was best to +be done. If I had known the origin of his trouble, I could have acted +understandingly. As it was, any intrusion upon the young man might do +harm rather than good. + +"He has asked to be let alone," I replied, "and it may be best to let +him alone. He says that he will come out right. Give him a little more +time. Wait, at least, until to-morrow. Then, if there is no change, I +will see him." + +Still the mother urged. At last I said-- + +"Go to your son. Suggest to him a visit from me, and mark the effect." + +I listened as she went up stairs. On entering his room, I noticed that +he ceased walking. Soon came to my ears the murmur of voices, which rose +to a sudden loudness on his part, and I distinctly heard the words: + +"Mother! you will drive me mad! If you talk of that, I will go from the +house. I _must_ be left alone!" + +Then all was silent. Soon Mrs. Wallingford came down. She looked even +more distressed than when she left the room. + +"I'm afraid it might do harm," she said doubtingly. + +"So am I. It will, I am sure, be best to let him have his way for the +present. Something has disturbed him fearfully; but he is struggling +hard for the mastery over himself, and you may be sure, madam, that he +will gain it. Your son is a young man of no light stamp of character; +and he will come out of this ordeal, as gold from the crucible." + +"You think so, Doctor?" + +She looked at me with a hopeful light in her troubled countenance. + +"I do, verily. So let your heart dwell in peace." + +I was anxious to get back to my good Constance, and so, after a few more +encouraging words for Mrs. Wallingford, I tried the storm again, and +went through its shivering gusts, to my own home. There had been +no calls in my absence, and so the prospect looked fair for a quiet +evening--just what I wanted; for the strange condition of Henry +Wallingford, and the singular circumstance connected with the old Allen +House, were things to be conned over with that second self, towards whom +all thought turned and all interest converged as to a centre. + +After exchanging wet outer garments and boots, for dressing gown and +slippers; and darkness and storm for a pleasant fireside; my thoughts +turned to the north-west chamber of the Allen House, and I said-- + +"I have seen something to-night that puzzled me." + +"What is that?" inquired my wife, turning her mild eyes upon me. + +"You know the room in which old Captain Allen died?" + +"Yes." + +"The chamber on the north-west corner, which, as far as we know, has +been shut up ever since?" + +"Yes, I remember your suspicion as to foul play on the part of Mrs. +Allen, who, it is believed, has never visited the apartment since the +Captain's death." + +"Well, you will be surprised to hear that the shutters are unclosed, and +lights burning in that chamber." + +"Now!" + +"Yes--or at least half an hour ago." + +"That is remarkable." + +My wife looked puzzled. + +"And more remarkable still--I saw shadows moving on the walls, as of two +or three persons in the room." + +"Something unusual has happened," said my wife. + +"Perhaps Mrs. Allen is dead." + +This thought had not occurred to me. I turned it over for a few moments, +and then remarked, + +"Hardly probable--for, in that case, I would have been summoned. No; it +strikes me that some strangers are in the house; for I am certain that +I saw a young girl come to the window and press her face close up to one +of the panes, as if trying to penetrate the darkness. + +"Singular!" said my wife, as if speaking to herself. "Now, that +explains, in part, something that I couldn't just make out yesterday. I +was late in getting home from Aunt Elder's you know. Well, as I came in +view of that old house, I thought I saw a girl standing by the gate. +An appearance so unusual, caused me to strain my eyes to make out the +figure, but the twilight had fallen too deeply. While I still looked, +the form disappeared; but, through an opening in the shrubbery, I caught +another glimpse of it, as it vanished in the portico. I was going to +speak of the incident, but other matters pushed it, till now, from my +thoughts when you were at home." + +"Then my eyes did not deceive me," said I; "your story corroborates +mine. There is a young lady in the Allen House. But who is she? That is +the question." + +As we could not get beyond this question, we left the riddle for time +to solve, and turned next to the singular state of mind into which young +Henry Wallingford had fallen. + +"Well," said my wife, speaking with some emphasis, after I had told her +of the case, "I never imagined that he cared so much for the girl!" + +"What girl?" I inquired. + +"Why, Delia Floyd--the silly fool! if I must speak so strongly." + +"Then he is really in love with Squire Floyd's daughter?" + +"It looks like it, if he's taking on as his mother says," answered my +wife, with considerable feeling. "And Delia will rue the day she turned +from as true a man as Henry Wallingford." + +"Bless me, Constance! you've got deeper into this matter, than either +his mother or me. Who has been initiating you into the love secrets of +S----?" + +"This affair," returned my wife, "has not passed into town talk, and +will, I trust, be kept sacred by those who know the facts. I learned +them from Mrs. Dean, the sister of Mrs. Floyd. The case stands thus: +Henry is peculiar, shy, reserved, and rather silent. He goes but little +into company, and has not the taking way with girls that renders +some young men so popular. But his qualities are all of the sterling +kind--such as wear well, and grow brighter with usage. For more than a +year past, he has shown a decided preference for Delia Floyd, and she +has encouraged his attentions. Indeed, so far as I can learn from Mrs. +Dean, the heart of her niece was deeply interested. But a lover of +higher pretensions came, dazzling her mind with a more brilliant +future." + +"Who?" I inquired. + +"That dashing young fellow from New York, Judge Bigelow's nephew." + +"Not Ralph Dewey?" + +"Yes." + +"Foolish girl, to throw away a man for such an effigy! It will be a +dark day that sees her wedded to him. But I will not believe in the +possibility of such an event." + +"Well, to go on with my story," resumed Constance. "Last evening, +seeing, I suppose, that a dangerous rival was intruding, Henry made suit +for the hand of Delia, and was rejected." + +"I understand the case better now," said I, speaking from a professional +point of view. + +"Poor young man! I did not suppose it was in him to love any woman after +that fashion," remarked Constance. + +"Your men of reserved exterior have often great depths of feeling," I +remarked. "Usually women are not drawn towards them; because they are +attracted most readily by what meets the eye. If they would look deeper, +they would commit fewer mistakes, like that which Delia Floyd has just +committed." + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +Delia Floyd was a girl of more than ordinary attractions, and it is +not surprising that young Wallingford was drawn, fascinated, within the +charmed circle of her influence. She was, by no means, the weak, vain, +beautiful young woman, that the brief allusion I have made to her might +naturally lead the reader to infer. I had possessed good opportunities +for observing her, for our families were intimate, and she was +frequently at our house. Her father had given her a good education--not +showy; but of the solid kind. She was fond of books, and better read, I +think, in the literature of the day, than any other young lady in S----. +Her conversational powers were of a high order. Good sense, I had always +given her credit for possessing; and I believed her capable of reading +character correctly. She was the last one I should have regarded as +being in danger of losing a heart to Ralph Dewey. + +In person, Delia was rather below than above the middle stature. Her +hair was of a dark brown, and so were her eyes--the latter large and +liquid. Her complexion was fresh, almost ruddy, and her countenance +animated, and quick to register every play of feeling. + +In manner, she was exceedingly agreeable, and had the happy art of +putting even strangers at ease. It was no matter of wonder to me, as +I said before, that Henry Wallingford should fall in love with Delia +Floyd. But I did wonder, most profoundly, when I became fully assured, +that she had, for a mere flash man, such as Ralph Dewey seemed to me, +turned herself away from Henry Wallingford. + +But women are enigmas to most of us--I don't include you, dear +Constance!--and every now and then puzzle us by acts so strangely out +of keeping with all that we had predicated of them, as to leave +no explanation within our reach, save that of evil fascination, or +temporary loss of reason. We see their feet often turning aside +into ways that we know lead to wretchedness, and onward they move +persistently, heeding neither the voice of love, warning, nor reproach. +They hope all things, believe all things, trust all things, and make +shipwreck on the breakers that all eyes but their own see leaping and +foaming in their course. Yes, woman is truly an enigma! + +Squire Floyd was a plain, upright man, in moderately good circumstances. +He owned a water power on the stream that ran near our town, and had +built himself a cotton mill, which was yielding him a good annual +income. But he was far from being rich, and had the good sense not to +assume a style of living beyond his means. + +Henry Wallingford was the son of an old friend of Squire Floyd's. +The elder Mr. Wallingford was not a man of the Squire's caution and +prudence. He was always making mistakes in matters of business, and +never succeeded well in any thing. He died when his son was about +eighteen years of age. Henry was at that time studying law with Judge +Bigelow. As, in the settlement of his father's estate, it was found to +be wholly insolvent, Henry, unwilling to be dependent on his mother, who +had a small income in her own right, gave notice to the Judge that he +was about to leave his office. Now, the Judge was a man of penetration, +and had already discovered in the quiet, reserved young man, just the +qualities needed to give success in the practice of law. He +looked calmly at his student for some moments after receiving this +announcement, conning over his face, which by no means gave indications +of a happy state of mind. + +"You think you can find a better preceptor?" said the Judge, at last, in +his calm way. + +"No, sir! no!" answered Henry, quickly. "Not in all this town, nor out +of it, either. It is not that, Judge Bigelow." + +"Then you don't fancy the law?" + +"On the contrary, there is no other calling in life that presents to my +mind any thing attractive," replied Henry, in a tone of despondency that +did not escape the Judge. + +"Well, if that is the case, why not keep on? You are getting along +bravely." + +"I must support myself, sir--must do something besides sitting here and +reading law books." + +"Ah, yes, I see." The Judge spoke to himself, as if light had broken +into his mind. "Well, Henry," he added, looking at the young man, "what +do you propose doing?" + +"I have hands and health," was the reply. + +"Something more than hands and health are required in this world. What +can you do?" + +"I can work on a farm, if nothing better offers. Or, may be, I can get a +place in some store." + +"There's good stuff in the lad," said Judge Bigelow to himself. Then +speaking aloud-- + +"I'll think this matter over for you, Henry. Let it rest for a day or +two. The law is your proper calling, and you must not give it up, if you +can be sustained in it." + +On that very day, Judge Bigelow saw Squire Floyd, and talked the matter +over with him. They had but one sentiment in the matter, and that was +favorable to Henry's remaining where he was. + +"Can he be of any service to you, in your office, Judge--such as copying +deeds and papers, hunting up cases, and the like?" asked the Squire. + +"Yes, he can be of service to me in that way; and is of service now." + +"You can afford to pay him something?" suggested Squire Floyd. + +"It is usual," replied the Judge, "to get this kind of service in return +for instruction and office privileges." + +"I know; but this case is peculiar. The death of Henry's father has left +him without a support, and he is too independent to burden his mother. +Unless he can earn something, therefore, he must abandon the law." + +"I understand that, Squire, and have already decided to compensate him," +said the Judge. "But what I can offer will not be enough." + +"How much can you offer?" + +"Not over a hundred dollars for the first year." + +"Call it two hundred, Judge," was the ready answer. + +The two men looked for a moment into each other's faces. + +"His father and I were friends from boyhood," said Squire Floyd. "He was +a warm-hearted man; but always making mistakes. He would have ruined +me two or three times over, if I had been weak enough to enter into +his plans, or to yield to his importunities in the way of risks and +securities. It often went hard for me to refuse him; but duty to those +dependent on me was stronger than friendship. But I can spare a hundred +dollars for his son, and will do it cheerfully. Only, I must not be +known in the matter; for it would lay on Henry's mind a weight of +obligation, not pleasant for one of his sensitive disposition to bear." + +"I see, Squire," answered Judge Bigelow to this; "but then it won't +place me in the right position. I shall receive credit for your +benevolence." + +"Don't trouble yourself on that score," answered the Squire, laughing. +"It may be that I shall want some law business done--though heaven +forbid! In that case, I will call on you, and you can let Henry do the +work. Thus the equilibrium of benefits will be restored. Let the salary +be two hundred." + +And so this matter being settled, Henry Wallingford remained in the +office of Judge Bigelow. The fact of being salaried by the Judge, +stimulated him to new efforts, and made him forward to relieve his kind +preceptor of all duties within the range of his ability. There +came, during the next year, an unusually large amount of office +practice--preparing deeds, making searches, and drawing up papers of +various kinds. In doing this work, Henry was rapid and reliable. So, +when Squire Floyd tendered his proportion of the young man's salary to +his neighbor, the Judge declined receiving it. The Squire urged; but the +Judge said-- + +"No; Henry has earned his salary, and I must pay it, in simple justice. +I did not think there was so much in him. Business has increased, and +without so valuable an assistant, I could not get along." + +So the way had opened before Henry Wallingford, and he was on the road +to a successful manhood. At the time of his introduction to the reader, +he was in his twenty-third year. On attaining his majority, he had +become so indispensable to Judge Bigelow, who had the largest practice +in the county, that no course was left for him but to offer the young +man a share in his business. It was accepted; and the name of Henry +Wallingford was thenceforth displayed in gilt letters, in the office +window of his preceptor. + +From that time, his mind never rested with anything like care or anxiety +on the future. His daily life consisted in an almost absorbed devotion +to his professional duties, which grew steadily on his hands. His +affection was in them, and so the balance of his mind was fully +sustained. Ah, if we could all thus rest, without anxiety, on the +right performance of our allotted work! If we would be content to +wait patiently for that success which comes as the orderly result of +well-doing in our business, trades, or professions, what a different +adjustment would there be in our social condition and relations! There +would not be all around us so many eager, care-worn faces--so many +heads bowed with anxious thought--so many shoulders bent with burdens, +destined, sooner or later, to prove too great for the strength which now +sustains them. But how few, like Henry Wallingford, enter with anything +like pleasure into their work! It is, in most cases, held as drudgery, +and regarded only as the means to cherished ends in life wholly removed +from the calling itself. Impatience comes as a natural result. The hand +reaches forth to pluck the growing fruit ere it is half ripened. No +wonder that its taste is bitter to so many thousands. No wonder that +true success comes to so small a number--that to so many life proves but +a miserable failure. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +The morning which broke after that night of storm was serene and +beautiful. The air had a crystal clearness, and as you looked away up +into the cloudless azure, it seemed as if the eye could penetrate to an +immeasurable distance. The act of breathing was a luxury. You drew in +draught after draught of the rich air, feeling, with every inhalation, +that a new vitality was absorbed through the lungs, giving to the heart +a nobler beat, and to the brain a fresh activity. With what a different +feeling did I take up my round of duties for the day! Yesterday I went +creeping forth like a reluctant school boy; to-day, with an uplifted +countenance and a willing step. + +Having a few near calls to make, I did not order my horse, as both +health and inclination were better served by walking. Soon after +breakfast I started out, and was going in the direction of Judge +Bigelow's office, when, hearing a step behind me that had in it +a familiar sound, I turned to find myself face to face with Henry +Wallingford! He could hardly have failed to see the look of surprise in +my face. + +"Good morning, Henry," I said, giving him my hand, and trying to +speak with that cheerful interest in the young man which I had always +endeavored to show. + +He smiled in his usual quiet way as he took my hand and said in return, + +"Good-morning, Doctor." + +"You were not out, I believe, yesterday," I remarked, as we moved on +together. + +"I didn't feel very well," he answered, in a voice pitched to a lower +key than usual; "and, the day being a stormy one, I shut myself up at +home." + +"Ah," said I, in a cheerful way, "you lawyers have the advantage of us +knights of the pill box and lancet. Rain or shine, sick or well, we must +travel round our parish." + +"All have their share of the good as well as the evil things of life," +he replied, a little soberly. "Doctors and lawyers included." + +I did not observe any marked change in the young man, except that he +was paler, and had a different look out of his eyes from any that I had +hitherto noticed; a more matured look, which not only indicated deeper +feeling, but gave signs of will and endurance. I carried that new +expression away with me as we parted at the door of his office, and +studied it as a new revelation of the man. It was very certain that +profounder depths had been opened in his nature--opened to his own +consciousness--than had ever seen the light before. That he was more +a man than he had ever been, and more worthy to be mated with a true +woman. Up to this time I had thought of him more as a boy than as a man, +for the years had glided by so quietly that bore him onward with the +rest, that he had not arisen in my thought to the full mental stature +which the word manhood includes. + +"Ah," said I, as I walked on, "what a mistake in Delia Floyd! She is +just as capable of high development as a woman as he is as a man. +How admirably would they have mated. In him, self-reliance, reason, +judgment, and deep feeling would have found in her all the qualities +they seek--taste, perception, tenderness and love. They would have grown +upwards into higher ideas of life, not downwards into sensualism and +mere worldliness, like the many. Alas! This mistake on her part may +ruin them both; for a man of deep, reserved feelings, who suffers a +disappointment in love, is often warped in his appreciation of the sex, +and grows one-sided in his character as he advances through the cycles +of life." + +I had parted from Henry only a few minutes when I met his rival, Ralph +Dewey. Let me describe him. In person he was taller than Wallingford, +and had the easy, confident manner of one who had seen the world, as we +say. His face was called handsome; but it was not a manly face--manly in +that best sense which includes character and thought. The chin and mouth +were feeble, and the forehead narrow, throwing the small orbs close +together. But he had a fresh complexion, dark, sprightly eyes, and +a winning smile. His voice was not very good, having in it a kind of +unpleasant rattle; but he managed it rather skillfully in conversation, +and you soon, ceased to notice the peculiarity. + +Ralph lived in New York, where he had recently been advanced to the +position of fourth partner in a dry goods jobbing house, with a small +percentage on the net profits. Judging from the air with which he spoke +of his firm's operations, and his relation to the business, you might +have inferred that he was senior instead of junior partner, and that the +whole weight of the concern rested on his shoulders. + +Judge Bigelow, a solid man, and from professional habit skilled in +reading character, was, singularly enough, quite carried away with his +smart nephew, and really believed his report of himself. Prospectively, +he saw him a merchant prince, surrounded by palatial splendors. + +Our acquaintance was as yet but slight, so we only nodded in passing. +As we were in the neighborhood of Squire Floyd's pleasant cottage, I was +naturally curious, under the circumstances, to see whether the young +man was going to make a visit at so early an hour; and I managed to keep +long enough in sight to have this matter determined. Ralph called at the +Squire's, and I saw him admitted. So I shook my head disapprovingly, and +kept on my way. + +Not until late in the afternoon did I find occasion to go into that part +of the town where the old Allen house was located, though the image +of its gleaming north-west windows was frequently in my thought. The +surprise occasioned by that incident was in no way lessened on seeing a +carriage drive in through the gateway, and two ladies alight therefrom +and enter the house. Both were in mourning. I did not see their faces; +but, judging from the dress and figure of each, it was evident that one +was past the meridian of life, and the other young. Still more to my +surprise, the carriage was not built after our New England fashion, but +looked heavy, and of a somewhat ancient date. It was large and high, +with a single seat for the driver perched away up in the air, and a +footman's stand and hangings behind. There was, moreover, a footman in +attendance, who sprung to his place after the ladies had alighted, and +rode off to the stables. + +"Am I dreaming?" said I to myself, as I kept on my way, after +witnessing this new incident in the series of strange events that were +half-bewildering me. But it was in vain that I rubbed my eyes; I could +not wake up to a different reality. + +It was late when I got home from my round of calls, and found tea +awaiting my arrival. + +"Any one been here?" I asked--my usual question. + +"No one.' The answer pleased me for I had many things on my mind, and +I wished to have a good long evening with my wife. Baby Mary and Louis +were asleep: but we had the sweet, gentle face of Agnes, our first born, +to brighten the meal-time. After she was in dream-land, guarded by +the loving angels who watch with children in sleep, and Constance +was through with her household cares for the evening, I came into the +sitting-room from my office, and taking the large rocking-chair, leaned +my head back, mind and body enjoying a sense of rest and comfort. + +"You are not the only one," said my wife, looking up from the basket of +work through which she had been searching for some article, "who noticed +lights in the Allen House last evening." + +"Who else saw them?" I asked. + +"Mrs. Dean says she heard two or three people say that the house was lit +up all over--a perfect illumination." + +"Stories lose nothing in being re-told. The illumination was confined to +the room in which Captain Allen died. I am witness to that. But I have +something more for your ears. This afternoon, as I rode past, I saw an +old-fashioned English coach, with a liveried driver and footman, turn +into the gate. From this two ladies alighted and went into the house; +when the coach was driven to the stables. Now, what do you think of +that?" + +"We are to have a romance enacted in our very midst, it would seem," +replied my wife, in her unimpassioned way. "Other eyes have seen this +also, and the strange fact is buzzing through the town. I was only +waiting until we were alone to tell you that these two ladies whom you +saw, arrived at the Allen House in their carriage near about daylight, +on the day before yesterday. But no one knows who they are, or from +whence they came. It is said that they made themselves as completely at +home as if they were in their own house; selected the north-west chamber +as their sleeping apartment; and ordered the old servants about with an +air of authority that subdued them to obedience." + +"But what of Mrs. Allen?" I asked, in astonishment at all this. + +"The stories about her reception of the strangers do not agree. +According to one, the old lady was all resistance and indignation at +this intrusion; according to another, she gave way, passively, as if she +were no longer sole mistress of the house." + +Constance ceased speaking, for there came the usual interruption to our +evening _tete-a-tete_--the ringing of my office bell. + +"You are wanted up at the Allen House, Doctor, said my boy, coming in +from the office a few moments afterwards. + +"Who is sick?" I asked. + +"The old lady." + +"Any thing serious?" + +"I don't know, sir. But I should think there was from the way old Aunty +looked. She says, come up as quickly as you can." + +"Is she in the office?" + +"No, sir. She just said that, and then went out in a hurry." + +"The plot thickens," said I, looking at Constance. + +"Poor old lady!" There was a shade of pity in her tones. + +"You have not seen her for many years?" + +"No." + +"Poor old witch of Endor! were better said." + +"Oh!" answered my wife, smiling, "you know that the painter's idea of +this celebrated individual has been reversed by some, who affirm that +she was young and handsome instead of old and ugly like modern witches." + +"I don't know how that may be, but if you could see Mrs. Allen, you +would say that 'hag' were a better term for her than woman. If the good +grow beautiful as they grow old, the loving spirit shining like a lamp +through the wasted and failing walls of flesh, so do the evil grow ugly +and repulsive. Ah, Constance, the lesson is for all of us. If we live +true lives, our countenances will grow radiant from within, as we +advance in years; if selfish, worldly, discontented lives, they will +grow cold, hard, and repulsive." + +I drew on my boots and coat, and started on my visit to the Allen House. +The night was in perfect contrast with the previous one. There was no +moon, but every star shone with its highest brilliancy, while the galaxy +threw its white scarf gracefully across the sky, veiling millions of +suns in their own excessive brightness. I paused several times in my +walk, as broader expanses opened between the great elms that gave to +our town a sylvan beauty, and repeated, with a rapt feeling of awe and +admiration, the opening stanza of a familiar hymn:-- + +"The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And +spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim." + +How the beauty and grandeur of nature move the heart, as if it +recognized something of its own in every changing aspect. The sun and +moon and stars--the grand old mountains lifting themselves upwards +into serene heights--the limitless expanse of ocean, girdling the whole +earth--rivers, valleys, and plains--trees, flowers, the infinite forms +of life--to all the soul gives some response, as if they were akin. + +I half forgot my interest in old Mrs. Allen, as my heart beat responsive +to the pulsings of nature, and my thoughts flew upwards and away as on +the wings of eagles. But my faithful feet had borne me steadily onwards, +and I was at the gate opening to the grounds of the Allen House, before +I was conscious of having passed over half the distance that lay +between that and my home. I looked up, and saw a light in the north-west +chamber, but the curtains were down. + +On entering the house, I was shown by the servant who admitted me, into +the small office or reception room opening from the hall. I had scarcely +seated myself, when a tall woman, dressed in black, came in, and said, +with a graceful, but rather stately manner-- + +"The Doctor, I believe?" + +How familiar the voice sounded! And yet I did not recognise it as +the voice of any one whom I had known, but rather as a voice heard in +dreams. Nor was the calm, dignified countenance on which my eyes rested, +strange in every lineament. The lady was, to all appearance, somewhere +in the neighborhood of sixty, and, for an elderly lady, handsome. I +thought of my remark to Constance about the beauty and deformity of age, +and said to myself, "Here is one who has not lived in vain." + +I arose as she spoke, and answered in the affirmative. + +"You have come too late," she said, with a touch of feeling in her +voice. + +"Not dead?" I ejaculated. + +"Yes, dead. Will you walk up stairs and see her?" + +I followed in silence, ascending to the chamber which had been occupied +by Mrs. Allen since the old Captain's death. It was true as she had +said; a ghastly corpse was before me. I use the word ghastly, for it +fully expresses the ugliness of that lifeless face, withered, marred, +almost shorn of every true aspect of humanity. I laid my hand upon +her--the skin was cold. I felt for her pulse, but there was no sign of +motion in the arteries. + +"It is over," I said, lifting myself from my brief examination, "and +may God have mercy upon her soul!" The last part of the sentence was +involuntary. + +"Amen!" + +I felt that this response was no idle ejaculation. + +"How was she affected?" I asked. "Has she been sick for any time? Or did +life go out suddenly?" + +"It went out suddenly," replied the lady--"as suddenly as a lamp in the +wind." + +"Was she excited from any cause?" + +"She has been in an excited state ever since our arrival, although every +thing that lay in our power has been done to quiet her mind and give it +confidence and repose." + +She spoke calmly, as one, who held a controlling position there, and of +right. I looked into her serene face, almost classic in its outlines, +with an expression of blended inquiry and surprise, that it was evident +did not escape her observation, although she offered no explanation in +regard to herself. + +I turned again to the corpse, and examined it with some care. There was +nothing in its appearance that gave me any clue to the cause which had +produced this sudden extinguishment of life. + +"In what way was she excited?" I asked, looking at the stranger as I +stepped back from the couch on which the dead body was lying. + +She returned my steady gaze, without answering, for some moments. +Either my tone or manner affected her unpleasantly, for I saw her brows +contract slightly, her full lips close upon themselves, and her eyes +acquire an intenser look. + +"You have been her physician, I believe?" There was no sign of feeling +in the steady voice which made the inquiry. + +"Yes." + +"_I_ need not, in that case, describe to you her unhappy state of +mind. _I_ need not tell you that an evil will had the mastery over her +understanding, and that, in the fierce struggle of evil passion with +evil passion, mind and body had lost their right adjustment." + +"I know all this," said I. "Still, madam, in view of my professional +duty, I must repeat my question, and urge upon you the propriety of an +undisguised answer. In what way was she excited? and what was the cause +leading to an excitement which has ended thus fatally?" + +"I am not in the habit of putting on disguises," she answered, with a +quiet dignity that really looked beautiful. + +"I pray you, madam, not to misunderstand me," said I. "As a physician, +I must report the cause of all deaths in the range of my practice. If I +were not to do so in this case, a permit for burial would not be issued +until a regular inquest was held by the Coroner." + +"Ah, I see," she replied, yet with an air of indecision. "You are +perfectly right, Doctor, and we must answer to your satisfaction. But +let us retire from this chamber." + +She led the way down stairs. As we passed the memorable north-west room, +she pushed the door open, and said, + +"Blanche, dear, I wish to see you. Come down to the parlor." + +I heard faintly the answer, in a very musical voice. We had scarcely +entered the parlor, when the lady said-- + +"My daughter, Doctor." + +A vision of beauty and innocence met my gaze. A young girl, not over +seventeen, tall like her mother, very fair, with a face just subdued +into something of womanly seriousness, stood in the door, as I turned at +mention of her presence. + +A single lamp gave its feeble light to the room, only half subduing the +shadows that went creeping into corners and recesses. Something of a +weird aspect was on every thing; and I could not but gaze at the +two strangers in that strange place to them, under such peculiar +circumstances, and wonder to see them so calm, dignified, and +self-possessed. We sat down by the table on which the lamp was standing, +the elder of the two opposite, and the younger a little turned away, so +that her features were nearly concealed. + +"Blanche," said the former, "the Doctor wishes to know the particular +incidents connected with the death of Mrs. Allen." + +I thought there was an uneasy movement on the part of the girl. She did +not reply. There was a pause. + +"The facts are simply these, Doctor," and the mother looked me steadily +in the face, which stood out clear, as the lamp shone full on every +feature. "From the moment of our arrival, Mrs. Allen has seemed like one +possessed of an evil Spirit. How she conducted herself before, is +known to me only as reported by the servants. From the little they have +communicated, I infer that for some time past she has not been ii her +right mind. How is it? You must know as to her sanity or insanity." + +"She has not, in my opinion, been a truly sane woman for years," was my +answer. + +"As I just said," she continued, "she has seemed like one possessed of +an evil spirit. In no way could we soften or conciliate her. Her conduct +resembled more nearly that of some fierce wild beast whose den was +invaded, than that of a human being. She would hold no friendly +intercourse with us, and if we met at any time, or in any part of the +house, she would fix her keen black eyes upon us, with an expression +that sent a shudder to the heart. My daughter scarcely dared venture +from her room. She so dreaded to meet her. Twice, as she flew past me, +in her restless wanderings over the house, muttering to herself, I heard +her say, as she struck her clenched hand in the air, 'I can do it again, +and I will!'" + +A cold chill crept over me, for I remembered the death of Captain Allen; +and this was like a confirmation of what I had feared as to foul play. + +"There is no trusting one wholly or even partially insane. So we were +always on our guard. Not once, but many times during the few nights +we have spent here, have we heard the door of our chamber tried after +midnight. It was plain to us that it was not safe to live in this way, +and so we had come to the reluctant conclusion that personal restraint +must be secured. The question as to how this could best be done we had +not yet decided, when death unraveled the difficulty." + +The speaker ceased at this part of her narrative, and lifting from +the table a small bell, rung it. A maid entered. I had never seen her +before. + +"Tell Jackson that I want him." + +The girl curtsied respectfully, and withdrew. + +Nothing more was said, until a man, whom I recognized at a glance to be +a regularly trained English servant, presented himself. + +"Jackson," said the lady, "I wish you to relate exactly, what occurred +just previously to, and at the time of Mrs. Allen's death." + +The man looked bewildered for a moment or two; but soon recovering +himself, answered without hesitation. + +"Hit 'appened just in this way, ma'am. I was a comin' hup stairs, when +I met the hold lady a tearin' down like a mad cat. She looked kind o' +awful. I never saw anybody out of an 'ospital look that way in all my +life before. She 'eld an hiron poker in 'er 'and. As my young lady--" +and he looked towards Blanche--"was in the 'all, I didn't think it safe +for 'er if I let the hold woman go down. So I just stood in 'er way, and +put my harms across the stairs so"--stretching his arms out. "My! but +'ow she did fire up! She stood almost a minute, and then sprung on me as +if she was a tiger. But I was the strongest, and 'olding 'er in my harms +like as I would a mad kitten, I carried 'er hup to 'er room, put 'er +hin, and shut the door. My young lady saw it hall, for she followed +right hup after me." + +He looked towards Blanche. + +"Just as it occurred," she said, in a low, sweet fluttering voice. + +"I heard the strife," said her mother, "and ran up to see what was the +matter. I reached the door of Mrs. Allen's room just as Jackson thrust +her in. He did not use any more violence than was needed in a case of +such sudden emergency. He is strong, and held her so tightly that she +could not even struggle. One wild, fierce scream rent the air, as +he shut the door, and then all was silent as death. I went in to her +instantly. She was on the floor in a convulsion. You were sent for +immediately; but it was too late for human intervention. Jackson, you +can go." + +The man bowed with an air of deferential respect, and retired. + +"Now, sir," she added, turning to me, "you have the facts as they +occurred. I have no wish to give them publicity, for they are family +matters, and these are always in their degree, sacred. If, however, you +think it your duty as a physician, to make the matter one of official +investigation, I can have nothing to say." + +I thought for some minutes before answering. The story, as related by +the servant, I fully credited. + +"Let me see the body again," said I, coming at length to a conclusion. + +We went up stairs, all three together; but only two of us entered the +chamber of death. As we neared the door, Blanche caught at her mother's +arm, and I heard her say, in a whisper: + +"Dear mamma! spare me that sight again. It is too horrible!" + +"The presence of your daughter is not needed," said I, interposing. "Let +her retire to her own room." + +"Thank you!" There was a grateful expression in her voice, as she +uttered these brief words, and then went back, while we passed in to the +apartment where the dead woman was still lying. + +As I looked upon her face again, it seemed even more ghastly than +before; and I could hardly repress a shudder. My companion held a +lamp; while I made as careful an examination as was possible under the +circumstances. I did not expect to find any marks of violence, though +I searched for them about her head, neck, and chest. But, under the +circumstances, I felt it to be my duty to know, from actual search, that +no such signs existed. In every aspect presented by the corpse, there +was a corroboration of the story related by the serving man. It was +plain, that in a fit of half insane, uncontrollable passion, the nice +adjustment of physical forces had been lost. + +"I am fully satisfied, madam," said I, at length, turning from my +unpleasant task. + +She let her calm, earnest eyes dwell on mine for a few moments, and then +answered, with a softened tone, in which there was just a perceptible +thrill of feeling-- + +"If I were a believer in omens, I should take this sad incident, +following so quickly on our removal to a new country and a new home, as +foreshadowing evil to me or mine. But I do not so read external events." + +"Between a life like hers, and a life like yours, madam, there can be +no possible nearness; nor any relation between your spiritual affinities +and hers. The antipodes are not farther apart," said I, in return; +"therefore, nothing that has befallen her can be ominous as to you." + +"I trust not," she gravely answered, as we left the room together. + +To my inquiry if I could serve her in any way, in the present matter, +she simply requested me to send a respectable undertaker, who would +perform what was fitting in the last rites due to the dead. + +I promised, and retired. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The appearance, manner, and bearing of the two strangers impressed +me strongly. The elder had evidently moved in refined and cultivated +society all her life. There was about her the air of "a lady, born and +bred"--dignified, calm, easy, and courteous. The daughter was a lovely +blossom on this stately stem--delicate, beautiful, sweet with the odors +of innocence. I see her now as I saw her on that first night of our +meeting--to my eyes a new born vision of loveliness. + +I found Constance awaiting, with curious interest, my return. I was +going right into the heart of this new wonder, and could not fail +to bring back some revelation that would satisfy, in a measure, the +excitement of mind produced by so singular an intrusion of strangers +upon our quiet town. I answered her first look of inquiry by the +words:-- + +"It is over. Another book of life is sealed up here to be opened in +eternity." + +"Dead! Not dead?" + +"Yes, Constance, Mrs. Allen is dead. Her spirit had passed away before +my arrival." + +"How did she die?--from what cause?" + +"From what I can learn she died in a fit of passion." I then related all +that I had seen and heard. + +"But who can they be?" This query came as a natural sequence. "What +right have they in the Allen House?" + +"Whoever they may be," I replied, "they act, or, at least, the elder +of the two ladies acts as if her right there was not even open to a +question. And, perhaps, it is not." + +"But what can they be to the Allens?" + +"I will give you," said I, "the benefit of my guessing on the subject. +You recollect the story told about Captain Allen's mother; how she went +off a great many years ago with a stranger--an Englishman." + +Constance remembered all about this family history, for it was the +romance of our town. + +"My conclusion is that this lady is the sister of Captain Allen--the +child that his mother took with her when she fled from her husband's +house. I am strengthened in this belief from the first impression of her +voice, as if the tones had in them something familiar." + +We talked this matter over, looking at it in every way, until we +satisfied ourselves that my conjectures must be true. The quiet manner +in which they had intruded themselves, and taken possession of the +house--unheralded as far as we knew--could not but present itself to our +minds as a matter of special wonder. The more we conned it over the more +we were puzzled. Before coming home I had called at an undertaker's, and +notified him that his services were wanted at the Allen House. Early on +the next day I took the liberty of calling there myself. I sent up my +name, and awaited, with some interest, my reception. The visit might be +regarded as an intrusion, and I was prepared to receive a message from +the lady asking to be excused. Not so, however. I had been seated only +a few moments, when I heard the rustle of her garments on the stairs. My +first glance at her face assured me that I was no unwelcome visitor. + +"Thank you, Doctor," she said, as she extended her hand, "for this early +call. Our meeting last night for the first time can hardly be called a +pleasant one--or the associations connected with it such as either of us +might wish to recall." + +"Our control over events is so slight," I made answer as I resumed my +seat, "that we should separate unpleasant feelings as far as possible +from any memories connected with them." + +A faint, sad smile just lightened up her placid face as she said, in +reply to the remark. + +"Ah, Doctor, that may not be. Lives are too intimately blended here for +any one to suffer or do wrong without leaving a burden of sadness on +other memories." + +"True; but the burden will be light or heavy according to our strength." + +She looked at me without replying, for the remark was so palpable, that +it seemed to involve nothing beyond a literal fact. + +"Or rather," I said, "the burden will be heavy or light according to our +state or quality." + +There was a sign of awakening interest in her countenance as if my +remark had touched some hidden spring of thought. + +"If we are right with ourselves," I went on, "the disturbance produced +by others' misconduct will not reach very far down. The pressure of +sadness may lie upon us for a season; but cannot long remain; for the +pure heart will lift itself into serene atmospheres." + +"But, who is right with himself?" she said. "Whose heart is pure enough +to dwell in these serene atmospheres? Not mine, alas!" + +I looked into the suddenly illuminated face as she put these questions, +in surprise at the quick change which had passed over it. But the +tone in which she uttered the closing sentence was touched with tender +sadness. + +"Rather let me say," I made answer, "_in the degree_ that we are right +with ourselves. None attain unto perfection here." + +"Yet," said the lady, with a sweet calmness of manner that made her +look beautiful, "is it not pleasant to imagine a state of perfection--or +rather a state in which evil is quiescent, and the heart active with all +good and loving impulses? How full of inspiration is such an ideal of +life! But the way by which we must go, if we would rise into this state, +is one of difficulty and perpetual warfare. The enemies of our peace are +numbered by myriads; and they seek with deadly hatred to do us harm." + +"And yet are powerless," said I, "if we keep the outworks of our lives +in order." + +"Yes," she answered, "it is the very ultimate or last things of our +lives where the power of repulsion resides. We can, in temptation, be it +ever so strong, refuse to _act_ in the wrong direction--refuse to do an +evil thing, because it is sinful. And this is our bulwark; this is our +tower of safety; for it is only in _wrong doing_ that our enemies gain +the victory over us. They may assault us never so fiercely--may dazzle +our eyes with the glitter of this world's most alluring things--may +stir the latent envy, malice, pride, or dishonesty, that lurks in every +heart; but if we stand still, hold back our hands and stay our feet--if +we give our resolute 'No' to all enticements, and keep our _actions_ +free from evil, all hell cannot prevail against us. God will take care +of the interior of our lives, and make them pure and heavenly, if we +resist evil in the exterior. But, pardon me; I did not mean to read you +a homily." + +She smiled with a grave sort of smile, and then sat silent. + +"I like your way of talking," said I. There was something about the lady +that put me at ease with her, and I said this without reserve, as if +I were speaking to a friend. "It looks to higher things in life than +people usually regard as worthy of our chief consideration. To most of +us, the outer world offers the highest attractions; only the few turn +inwardly to the more beautiful world of mind." + +"Outward things fade--change--die; only spiritual things dwell in +unfading beauty. We are in a world of mere effects as to our bodies; +but the soul lives in the world of causes. Do we not spend a vain +and unprofitable life, then, if we go on building, day after day, our +tabernacle on the ever-shifting sands of time, instead of upon the +immovable Rock of Ages? But who is guiltless of this folly? Not I! not +I!" + +Again that calm, earnest voice fell to a lower key, and was veiled by a +tender sadness. + +"It is something gained," she added, with returning firmness of tone, +"if, even after the sharp lessons of many years, we get glimpses of +Truth, and are willing to follow, though it be at a far distance, the +light she holds aloft. Yes, it is something gained--something gained!" + +She spoke the last words as if merely thinking aloud, and not addressing +an auditor. + +"Can I aid you in anything, madam?" said I, breaking in upon a state +of reverie into which her mind seemed to be falling. "The circumstances +under which you find yourself are peculiar--I refer to the death of Mrs. +Allen, following so quickly on your arrival among strangers--and you +may stand in need of friendly service from one who knows the people and +their ways. If so, do not hesitate to command me." + +"I thank you sincerely," she answered, unbending still more from +her almost stately manner. "Friendly consideration I shall need, of +course--as who does not in this world? And I repeat my thanks, that +you have so kindly and so promptly anticipated my needs So far as the +remains of my unhappy kinswoman are concerned, I have referred all to +the undertaker. He will carry out my wishes. To-morrow the interment +will take place. On the day following, if it it is altogether agreeable +to yourself, I would esteem a call as a particular favor." + +I arose, as she concluded the last sentence, saying as I did so, + +"I will be sure to call, madam; and render any service in my power. You +may regard me as a friend." + +"Already you have extorted my confidence," she answered, faintly +smiling. + +I bowed low, and was retiring when she said-- + +"A moment, Doctor!" + +I turned toward her again. + +"Doctor, it may be well for you to see my daughter." + +"Is she indisposed?" I asked. + +"Not exactly that. But the excitement and alarm of the last two or three +days have been, I fear, rather too much for her nerves. I say alarm, for +the poor girl was really frightened at Mrs. Allen's wild conduct--and no +wonder. Death following in so sad a way, shocked her painfully. She did +not sleep well last night; and this morning she looks pale and drooping. +In all probability, quiet of mind and body will soon adjust the balance +of health; still, it may be safest for you to see her." + +"A mere temporary disturbance, no doubt, which, as you suggest, quiet of +mind and body will, in all probability, overcome. Yet it will do no harm +for me to see her; and may save trouble." + +"Excuse me a moment," she said, and left the room. In a little while she +returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs. + +I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a +lounge. She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face, +which subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary +looking. After we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in the +palm, but cold at the extremities. Her pulse was feeble, disturbed, and +quick. + +"How is your head?" I asked. + +"It feels a little strangely," she replied, moving it two or three +times, as if to get some well defined sensation. + +"Any pain?" + +"Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep into +my head." + +"What general bodily sensation have you? Any that you can speak of +definitely?" + +"None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness. When I raise my arm, +it seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and wish to be +at rest." + +"Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now," +said I. Then addressing her mother, I added--"I think your daughter had +better lie down. Let her room be shaded and kept quiet. She needs rest +and sleep. Sleep is one of nature's great restorers." + +"Will you make no prescription, Doctor?" the mother asked. + +I reflected on the symptoms exhibited, for a few moments, and then said, + +"Nothing beyond repose, now. I trust that nature, as the pressure is +removed, will work all right again." + +"You will call in again to-day." + +"Yes; towards evening I will see your daughter, when I hope to find her +improved in every way." + +I spoke with a cheerfulness of manner that did not altogether express +my feelings in the case; for, there were some indications, not yet clear +enough for a diagnosis, that awakened slight concern. As I did not wish +to go wrong in my first prescription, I deemed it better to wait a few +hours, and see how nature would succeed in her efforts to repel the +enemy. So I went away, with a promise to call again early in the +afternoon. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +It was between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, when I called +again at the Allen House. An old colored servant, who had been in the +family ever since my remembrance--she went by the name of "Aunty"--was +standing by the gate as I alighted from my chaise. + +"'Deed, massa, Ise glad you come," said she in a troubled way. + +"Why so, Aunty? No body very sick, I hope." + +"'Deed, an dar is den; else old Aunty don't know nothin'." + +"Who?" + +"Why dat blessed young lady what drapped in among us, as if she'd come +right down from Heaven. I was jest a gwine to run down an' ax you to +come and see her right away." + +I did not linger to talk with "Aunty," but went forward to the house. +The mother of Blanche met me at the door. She looked very anxious. + +"How is your daughter now?" I asked. + +"Not so well as when you saw her this morning," she answered. Her voice +trembled. + +"I would have called earlier, but have been visiting a patient several +miles away." + +"She has been lying in a kind of stupor ever since you were here. What +can it mean, Doctor?" + +The mother looked intently in my face, and paused for an answer, with +her lips apart. But I knew as little as she what it meant. Ah! how often +do anxious friends question us, and hearken eagerly for our replies, +when the signs of disease are yet too indefinite for any clear +diagnosis! + +"I can tell better after seeing your daughter," said I. And we went up +to the sick girl's chamber; that north-west room, at the window of which +I had first seen the fair stranger, as I stood wondering in storm and +darkness. I found her lying in apparent sleep, and breathing heavily. +Her face was flushed; and I noticed the peculiar odor that usually +accompanies an eruptive fever. + +"How do you feel now?" I asked. + +She had opened her eyes as I took her hand. She did not answer, but +looked at me in a half bewildered way. Her skin was hot and the pulse +small, but tense and corded. + +"Does your head ache?" + +I wished to arouse her to external consciousness. + +"Oh, it's you, Doctor." + +She recognized me and smiled faintly. + +"How are you now?" I inquired. + +"Not so well, I think, Doctor," she answered. "My head aches worse than +it did; and I feel sick all over. I don't know what can ail me." + +"Have you any uneasiness, or sense of oppression in the stomach?" I +inquired. + +"Oh, yes, Doctor." She laid her hand upon her chest; and drew in a long +breath, as if trying to get relief. + +"Have you felt as well as usual for a week, or ten days past?" I +inquired. + +"No, Doctor." It was the mother who answered my question. "And in order +that you may understand the case clearly, let me say, that it is only a +week since we arrived from England. We came over in a steamer, and were +fifteen days in making the trip. From Boston, we came here in our own +carriage. Before leaving home, Blanche went around to see a number of +poor cottagers in our neighbourhood, and there was sickness at several +of the places where she called. In one cottage, particularly, was a case +of low fever. I was troubled when I learned that she had been there, but +still hoped that her excellent state of health would repel anything +like contagion. During the first part of our voyage, she suffered +considerably from sea-sickness; but got along very well after that. If +it hadn't been for the unhappy scenes of the last few days, with their +painfully exciting consummation, I think she would have thrown off, +wholly, any lurking tendency to disease." + +I turned my face partly aside, so that its expression could not be seen. +The facts stated, and the symptoms as now presented, left me in little +doubt as to the nature of the malady against which I had to contend. +Even while her mother talked, my patient fell away into the stupor from +which I had aroused her. + +My treatment of the case coincided with the practice of men eminent in +the school of medicine to which I then belonged. I am not a disciple +of that school now, having found a system of exacter science, and one +compassing more certain results with smaller risk and less waste of +physical energy. + +In order to remove the uneasiness of which my patient complained, I gave +an emetic. Its action was salutary, causing a determination towards the +skin, and opening the pores, as well as relieving the oppression from +which she suffered. + +"How is your head now?" I asked, after she had been quiet for some +minutes. + +"Better. I feel scarcely any pain." + +"So far, all is right," said I, cheerfully. + +The mother looked at me with an anxious face. I arose, and we retired +from the room together. Before leaving, I spoke encouragingly to my +patient, and promised to see her early in the morning. + +"My daughter is very sick, Doctor. What is the disease?" The mother +spoke calmly and firmly. "I am not one towards whom any concealments +need be practised; and it is meet that I should know the worst, that I +may do the best." + +"The disease, madam," I replied, "has not yet put on all of its +distinctive signs. A fever--we call it the fever of incubation--is the +forerunner of several very different ailments, and, at the beginning, +the most accurate eye may fail to see what is beyond. In the present +case, however, I think that typhoid fever is indicated." + +I spoke as evenly as possible, and with as little apparent concern as +possible. But I saw the blood go instantly back from the mother's face. + +"Typhoid fever!" she ejaculated, in a low voice, clasping her hands +together. I learned afterwards that she had cause to dread this +exhausting and often fatal disease. "Oh, Doctor! do for her as if she +were your own and only child." + +She grasped my arm, like one catching at a fleeting hope. + +"As if she were my own and only child!" I repeated her words in promise +and assurance, adding-- + +"The first result of the medicine which I gave is just what I desired. +I will leave something more to be taken at intervals of two hours, until +midnight. In the morning, I hope to find a very encouraging change." + +"But, Doctor," she replied, "if this is a case of typhoid fever, no hope +of any quick change for the better can be entertained. I am no stranger +to the fearful malady." + +"Attacks of all diseases," I answered to this, "are more or less severe, +according to the nature of the predisposing and exciting causes. So +far as your daughter is concerned, I should think, from the very slight +opportunity I have had of forming an opinion in regard to her, that +she is not readily susceptible of morbific intrusions. Under an unusual +exposure to exciting causes, the balance of health has been overcome. +If my presumption is correct, we have the steady effort of nature, in +co-operation with remedial agencies, working towards a cure." + +"Do you think the attack light, or severe?" the mother asked, speaking +more calmly. + +"Neither light nor severe; but of a character, judging from the first +impression made upon it, entirely controllable by medicines." + +This opinion gave her confidence. As I had spoken without any apparent +concealment, she evidently believed the case to stand exactly as I had +stated it. After leaving medicine to be taken, every two hours, for the +first part of the night, I went away. + +In the morning, I found my patient in that comatose state, the usual +attendant upon typhoid fever. She aroused herself on my entrance, and +answered all questions clearly. She had no pain in the head, nor any +distressing symptoms. Her skin was soft and moist. All things looked +favorable. I gave, now, only gentle diaphoretics, and let the case +progress, watching it with the closest attention. In this, I followed my +usual course of treatment as to giving medicines. If I could produce a +reaction, or remove some obstruction, and give nature a chance, I did +not think it wise to keep on with drugs, which, from their general +poisonous qualities, make even well people sick--regarding the struggle +of life with disease as hazardous enough, without increasing the risk by +adding a new cause of disturbance, unless the need of its presence were +unmistakably indicated. + +The course of this fever is always slow and exhausting. My patient sunk +steadily, day by day, while I continued to watch the case with more than +common anxiety. At the end of a week, she was feeble as an infant, and +lay, for the most part, in a state of coma. I visited her two or three +times every day, and had the thought of her almost constantly in my +mind. Her mother, nerved for the occasion, was calm, patient, and +untiring. The excitement which appeared on the occasion of my first +visits, when there was doubt as to the character of the disease, passed +away, and never showed itself again during her daughter's illness. I +saw, daily, deeper into her character, which more and more impressed +me with its simple grandeur, if I may use the word in this connection. +There was nothing trifling, mean, or unwomanly about her. Her mind +seemed to rest with a profoundly rational, and at the same time +child-like trust, in Providence. Fear did not unnerve her, nor anxiety +stay her hands in any thing. She met me, at every visit, with dignified +self-possession, and received my report of the case, each time, without +visible emotion. I had not attempted to deceive her in any thing from +the beginning; she had seen this, and the fact gave her confidence in +all my statements touching her daughter's condition. + +At the end of a week, I commenced giving stimulants, selecting, as the +chief article, sound old Maderia wine. The effect was soon apparent, +in a firmer pulse and a quickened vitality. The lethargic condition in +which she had lain for most of the time since the commencement of the +attack, began to give way, and in a much shorter period than is +usually the case, in this disease, we had the unmistakable signs of +convalescence. + +"Thank God, who, by means of your skill, has given me back my precious +child!" said the mother to me, one day, after Blanche was able to sit +up in bed. She took my hand and grasped it tightly. I saw that she was +deeply moved. I merely answered: + +"With Him are the issues of life." + +"And I have tried to leave all with Him," she said. "To be willing to +suffer even that loss, the bare thought of which makes me shudder. But I +am not equal to the trial, and in mercy He has spared me." + +"He is full of compassion, and gracious. He knows our strength, and will +not test it beyond the limits of endurance." + +"Doctor," she said, a light coming into her face, "I have much to say to +you, but not now. I think you can understand me." + +I merely bowed. + +"There is one thing," she went on, "that I have liked in you from the +beginning. I am to you a total stranger, and my presence in this house +is a fact that must awaken many questions in your mind. Yet you have +shown no restless curiosity, have plied me with no leading questions, +have left me free to speak, or keep silence. There is a manly courtesy +about this that accords with my feelings." + +I bowed again, but did not venture upon mere words of compliment. + +"I am not sure," said she, "that my name even is known to you." + +"It is not," I answered. "You have seemed to avoid any allusion thereto, +and delicacy forbade my asking." + +"There has been no purposed concealment. My name is Montgomery; and I am +sister to the late Captain Allen." + +"I had already inferred this relationship." The remark evidently +surprised her. + +"On what ground could you base such an inference?" she asked, curiously. + +"On traditional ground. The history of this old mansion is familiar +to most persons in S----; and some of the incidents connected with the +family have too strong a tinge of romance about them to easily pass into +oblivion. It is well known to us that Captain Allen had an only sister." + +"What is it said became of her?" + +"When she was about two years of age her mother carried her off, +sailing, as was believed, to England, of which country she was a +native." + +"Is the name of the child preserved in this tradition?" + +"Yes. It was Flora." + +"My own name," she said. + +"And in person you are identical." + +"Yes. My mother's early life embraced some dreadful experiences. Her +father and mother, with two brothers and a younger sister, were all +murdered by pirates. She alone was spared, and afterwards became the +wife of a sea captain, who, I fear, was not a man innocent of blood. +On this point, however, my mother was reserved, almost silent. In the +course of time she grew so wretched, as the wife of this man, that +she sent a letter to England, addressed to some remembered relative, +imploring him to save her from a life that was worse than death. This +letter fell into the right hands. A cousin was sent out from England, +and she fled with him. No attempt, as far as we know, was ever made to +follow and regain her She did not live many years afterwards. I grew +up among my relatives, ignorant of her history. My memory of her is +distinct, though she died when I was but eight years old. + +"I married, at the age of twenty-six, an officer in the British army, +one of the younger sons in a titled family, for whom no way in the +world is opened, except through the church or the battle-field. General +Montgomery chose the profession of a soldier, not from a love of its +exciting and fearful concomitants, but because he had no fancy for the +gown and cassock, and could not be a hypocrite in religion. He went +quite early to British India, and distinguished himself there by many +acts of bravery, as well as by his humane and honorable conduct. So +highly was he regarded by the East India Company, that he was +selected for most important services, and assigned to posts of great +responsibility. He was past thirty years of age when I met him, on the +occasion of one of his visits to England. The attraction was mutual; +and when he returned to Calcutta, I went with him as his wife. Then +came twenty years of a happy married life;--happy, I mean, so far as a +perfect union of souls can make us happy in this world, but miserable, +at times, through intense anxiety for the absent one exposed to fearful +perils. + +"We had three children." There was a tremor in the voice of Mrs. +Montgomery as she referred to her children. "One only remains." She +paused, as if to recover herself, and then went on. + +"I lost my husband first. Ten years ago, he fell at the post of duty, +and, while my heart lay crushed and bleeding under the terrible blow, it +leaped with throbbings of pride, as his honored name went sounding from +lip to lip, and from land to land. I had not the sad pleasure of being +with him in that last time. For the sake of our children, I was residing +in England. + +"Troubles rarely come alone. Two years afterwards my oldest son died. My +home was in the family of General Montgomery, where I was treated with +great kindness; but as my income was not sufficient for an establishment +of my own, I felt a sense of obligation that is always oppressive to +one of my nature. This feeling grew upon me daily, and at last began to +haunt me like a constantly re-appearing spectre. It is now about +three years since, in looking over some old letters and papers, I came +unexpectedly upon a document written by my mother--all the evidence as +to this was clear--and addressed to myself. How it should have remained +so long unobserved, and yet in my possession, is one of the mysterious +things which I do not attempt to explain. There is a Providence in +all things, even to the most minute, and I simply refer the fact to +Providence, and leave it there. This document spoke briefly, but with +no special particularity, of her marriage with a Captain Allen, and +settlement in this town. It stated that she had two children, a son and +a daughter, and that in leaving America for England, she had taken her +daughter, but left the son behind. There was no suggestion as to the +use to be made of these facts; but there was such a statement of them as +left their verification, I thought, easy. I turned them over and over +in my mind, and in the end resolved to gain all accessible information +touching the present condition of things. To this end, I sent over +about two years ago, a man of prudence and intelligence, versed in legal +matters, with instructions to obtain all possible particulars in regard +to my brother, his family and estate. He brought back word that my +brother was dead; that he had left no children, and that his widow--if, +indeed, she were ever his legal wife, which seemed to be doubted--was +old, in poor health, and verging towards mental imbecility, if not +insanity. That there was a large and valuable estate, to which I, as +sister of Captain Allen, was undoubtedly the heir. + +"I kept these things, for the time being, to myself, and pondered over +them in some perplexity as to the best course to take. But from these +thoughts, my mind was soon turned by the illness of my oldest daughter. +After a lingering sickness of many weeks, she died. It seemed almost +impossible to arouse myself from the stunning effects of this blow. It +crushed me down more than any previous sorrow, for it fell upon a heart +weakened by pain. It was many months before the discipline of this +affliction awakened me to thoughts of a higher life. Then I began to +rise into serener heights--to see as by an interior vision, to believe +that even our saddest things may fall upon us in mercy. + +"Finally, circumstances of which I need not speak, made me resolve to +leave England, and under legal advice of the highest authority, take +quiet possession of this estate, which is mine." + +Mrs. Montgomery ceased speaking. + +"Perhaps," she resumed, after a moment, "it may be as well, all things +considered, that you do not speak of this for the present. I shall, +as soon as my daughter's full recovery gives me time to enter into the +subject, place my affairs in the hands of a safe legal agent, in order +that they may assume due form and order. You can, no doubt, refer me to +the right individual." + +"I can," was my reply. "Judge Bigelow, of our town, is the man. I speak +of him with the utmost confidence." + +"Thank you, Doctor. You lay me under additional obligation," she said. +"I will, at an early day consult him." + +Thus closed this deeply interesting interview. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +I attended Blanche Montgomery through her slow convalescence, and had +many opportunities for observing her and her mother closely. The more +intimately I knew them the higher did they rise in my estimation. A +purer, sweeter, truer-hearted girl than Blanche I had never seen. There +was an artlessness and innocence about her but rarely met with in young +ladies of her age. Especially was she free from that worldliness and +levity which so often mars young maidenhood. Her mind was well stored +and cultivated, and she was beginning to use her mental treasures in a +way that interested you, and made you listen with pleased attention when +she spoke on even common-place subjects. Her manners had in them a grace +and dignity that was very attractive. As she advanced towards health her +deportment took on an easy, confiding air, as if she looked upon me as a +true friend. Her smile, whenever I appeared, broke over her gentle face +like a gleam of sunshine. + +Mrs. Montgomery's manner towards me was distinguished by the same +frankness that marked her daughter's deportment. The stately air that +struck me in the beginning I no longer observed. If it existed, my eyes +saw it differently. At her request, when her mind was sufficiently at +ease about her daughter to busy itself with the common affairs of life, +I brought Judge Bigelow to see her, and she placed her business matters +in his hands. The judge was very much struck with her person and manner, +and told me the day after his first meeting with her that she came +nearer to his ideal of a lady than any woman he had ever met; and as +for the daughter she seemed more like a picture he had once seen than a +piece of real flesh and blood. I smiled at the Judge's enthusiasm, but +did not wonder at the impression he had received. + +Other characters in our story now claim attention, and we must turn to +them. After Henry Wallingford had gained the mastery over himself:--the +struggle was wild, but brief--he resumed his office duties as usual, and +few noticed any change in him, except that he withdrew even more than +ever into himself. I met him occasionally, and observed him closely. In +my eyes there was a marked difference in the aspect of his face. It had +an expression of patient suffering at times--and again I saw in it a +most touching sadness. + +The dashing nephew of Judge Bigelow offered himself to Squire Floyd's +daughter in about a week after her rejection of Wallingford's suit, +and was accepted. I became immediately cognizant of the fact through +my wife, who had the news from Delia's aunt, Mrs. Dean. A day or two +afterwards I met her in company with young Dewey, and observed her +closely. Alas! In my eyes the work of moral retrocession had already +begun. She was gay and chatty, and her countenance fresh and blooming. +But I missed something--something the absence of which awakened a sigh +of regret. Ralph was very lover-like in his deportment, fluttering about +Delia, complimenting her, and showing her many obtrusive attentions. But +eyes that were in the habit of looking below the surface of things, saw +no heart in it all. + +Squire Floyd was delighted with his daughter's fine prospects; and he +and Judge Bigelow drew their heads together over the affair in a cosy +and confidential way very pleasant to both of them. The Judge was +eloquent touching his nephew's fine qualities and splendid prospects; +and congratulated the Squire, time and again, on his daughter's +fortunate matrimonial speculation. He used the word which was +significative beyond any thing that entered his imagination. + +A few days after the engagement Ralph Dewey returned to New York. The +wedding-day had not been fixed; but the marriage, as understood by all +parties, was to take place some time during the next winter. + +From that time I noticed a change in Delia. She grew silent in company, +and had an absent way about her that contrasted strongly with her former +social disposition. Young people rallied her in the usual style about +her heart being absent with the beloved one, but I read the signs +differently. It could not but follow, that a soul, endowed like hers, +would have misgivings in view of an alliance with one like Ralph +Dewey. What was there in him to satisfy a true woman's yearnings for +conjunction with a kindred nature? Nothing! He was all outside as to +good. A mere selfish, superficial, speculating man of the world. While +she had a heart capable of the deepest and truest affection. Would he +make the fitting complement to her life? Alas! No! That were a thing +impossible. + +During the few months that preceded this marriage, I often heard its +promise discussed by my wife and Mrs. Dean, neither of whom had any +strong liking for the young New York merchant. + +"It's my opinion," said Mrs. Dean, as she sat with my wife one evening, +about two months after the engagement had taken place, "that Ralph has +more froth than substance about him. He really talks, sometimes, as if +he had the world in a sling and could toss it up among the stars. As far +as my observation goes, such people flourish only for a season." + +"If Delia were a child of mine," said my good Constance, in her earnest +way, "I would a thousand times rather trust her with Henry Wallingford +than with Ralph Dewey." + +"Yes, and a thousand millions of times," responded Mrs. Dean. "He is +a man. You know just what he is, and where he is. But, as for this +splashing nephew of Judge Bigelow's--who knows what's below the surface? +Delia's father is all taken up with him, and thinks the match a splendid +one. Sister don't say much; but I can see that she has her misgivings. I +can talk to you freely, you know." + +"I don't think," said I, "that Delia has grown more cheerful since her +engagement. Brides expectant ought to feel as happy as the day is long." + +"More cheerful? Oh, dear, no! She isn't the same that she was at all; +but mopes about more than half of her time. It's just my opinion--spoken +between friends--that she cares, now, a great deal more for Henry than +she does for Ralph." + +"Do they ever meet?" I inquired. + +"Not very often." + +"They have met?" + +"Yes, several times." + +"Have you seen them together?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"How does she act towards him?" + +"Not always the same. Sometimes she is talkative, and sometimes +reserved--sometimes as gay as a lark, and sometimes sober enough; as +if there were such a weight on her spirits, that she could not smile +without an effort." + +"Does the fact of his presence make any change in her?" I inquired. +"What I mean is, if she were lively in spirits before he came in, would +she grow serious--or if serious, grow excited?" + +"Oh, yes, it always makes a change. I've known her, after being very +quiet, and hardly having any thing to say, though in the midst of young +company, grow all at once as merry as a cricket, and laugh and joke in +a wild sort of way. And again, when she has been in one of her old, +pleasant states of mind I have noticed that she all at once drew back +into herself; I could trace the cause to only this--the presence of +Henry Wallingford. But this doesn't often happen, for he rarely shows +himself in company." + +"Is there anything noticeable about Henry when they meet?" I asked. + +"Not to an ordinary observer," replied Mrs. Dean. "But I look with +sharper eyes than most people. Yes, there is something noticeable. He +always puts himself in her way, but with a kind of forced, resolute +manner, as if the act were a trial of strength, and involved a stern +heart-discipline. And this I think, is just the real state of the case. +He has deliberately and resolutely entered upon the work of unwinding +from his heart the cord which love his thrown around it in so many +intertwisted folds. So I read him. To break it by sudden force, would +leave so many unwound portions behind, that the memory of her might +sadden the whole of his after-life. And so he is learning to grow +indifferent towards her. To search in her for such things as repel, +instead of for those that charm the heart." + +"A dangerous experiment," said my wife, "for one who has loved so +deeply." + +"It would be to most men," I remarked. "But there is stuff about +Henry--the stuff that strong, persistent, successful men are made of. If +he has begun this work, he will complete it certainly." + +A few weeks afterwards, I had an opportunity of seeing them together, +and I improved it to observe them closely. It was in a mixed company +at the house of Judge Bigelow. Wallingford came in rather late. I +was conversing with Delia when he entered the room, and we were at an +interesting point in the subject under consideration. I noticed, all at +once, a hesitation and confusion of thought, as her eyes rested, with a +sudden interest, on some object in the room. Glancing around, I saw the +young man. We went on with our conversation, Delia rallying herself, as +I could see, with an effort. But she talked no longer from thought, only +from memory--uttering mere truisms and common-places. She put on more +animation, and affected a deeper interest; but I was not deceived. + +We were still in conversation, when Wallingford joined us. I saw him fix +his eyes, as they met, searchingly upon her face, and saw her eyes droop +away from his. He was fully self-possessed; she not at ease. His mind +was clear; hers in some confusion. I remained some time near them, +listening to their conversation, and joining in occasionally. Never +before had I seen him appear so well, nor her to such poor advantage. +She tried to act a part--he was himself. I noticed, as he led the +conversation, that he kept away from the esthetic, and held her thought +in the region of moral causes; that he dwelt on the ends and purposes +of life, as involving everything. Now and then she essayed a feeble +argument, or met some of his propositions with light banter. But with +a word he obliterated the sophism--and with a glance repressed the +badinage. I think she could never before have so felt the superiority of +this man, whose pure love--almost worship--she had put aside as a thing +of light importance; and I think the interview helped him in the work +upon which he had entered, that of obliterating from his heart all +traces of her image. + +After this interview, they did not draw together again during the +evening. Delia tried to be gay and indifferent; but he acted himself out +just as he was. I did not observe that he was more social than usual, +or that he mingled more than was his wont with the young ladies present. +For most of the time, he kept, as was usual with him, in company and in +conversation with his own sex. + +I could not but pity Delia Floyd. It was plain to me that she was waking +up to the sad error she had committed--an error, the consequences of +which would go with her through life. Very, very far was she from being +indifferent to Wallingford--that I could plainly see. + +During the winter, Ralph came up frequently from New York to visit his +bride to be. As he was the nephew of Judge Bigelow, he and Wallingford +were, as a thing of course, thrown often together during these visits. +It can hardly excite wonder, that Wallingford maintained a reserved +and distant demeanor towards the young man, steadily repelling all +familiarity, yet always treating him with such politeness and respect +that no cause of offence could appear. On the part of Dewey, it may be +said that he saw little in the grave plodder among dusty law books and +discolored parchments, that won upon his regard. He looked upon him as +a young man good enough in his way--a very small way, in his +estimation--good enough for S----, and small enough for a country town +lawyer. He would have put on towards him a patronizing air, and tried to +excite in his mind a nobler ambition than to move in our circumscribed +sphere, if something in the young man's steady, penetrating, +half-mysterious eye had not always held him back: + +"I never can talk with that young associate or yours, uncle," he would +say, now and then, to Judge Bigelow, "and I can't just make him out. Is +he stupid, or queer?" + +The Judge would smile, or laugh quietly to himself, or perhaps answer in +this wise: + +"I think Henry understands himself. Still waters, you know, run deep." + +One day in February, on the occasion of a periodical visit to S----, +young Dewey called in at Judge Bigelow's office, and finding Wallingford +alone, sat down and entered into as familiar a talk with him as was +possible, considering how little they had in common. Ralph had a purpose +in view, and as soon as he saw, or thought he saw, Wallingford's mind in +the right mood, said-- + +"I am going to ask a particular favor, and you must not refuse." + +"If I can serve you in any thing, it will be my pleasure to do so," was +the ready answer. + +"You know that I am to be married next month?" + +"So I have heard," replied Wallingford. + +"You will stand my groomsman? Don't say no!" + +He had seen an instant negative in the young man's face. + +"Almost any thing else, but not that!" replied Henry, speaking with some +feeling. He was thrown off his guard by so unexpected a request. + +"Come now, my good friend, don't take the matter so much to heart!" said +Dewey, in a light way. "Plenty of good fish in the sea yet--as good as +ever were caught. You must forgive the girl for liking me the best." + +"You jest on a grave subject," said Wallingford, his face growing pale, +but his eyes, a little dilated, riveting his companion's where he stood. + +"No, I am in earnest," said Dewey, with something in his manner that was +offensive. + +"Jest or earnest, your familiarity is out of place with me," retorted +Wallingford, with a sternness of manner, that quickened the flow of bad +blood in Dewey's heart. + +"Oh, you needn't take on airs!" replied the other with a sneer of +contempt. Then muttering to himself, yet loud enough to be heard,--"I +didn't suppose the puppy would growl at a familiar pat on the head." + +This was too much for Wallingford. At another time, he might have borne +it with a manly self-possession. But only an hour before he had met +Miss Floyd in the street, and the look she then gave him had stirred +his heart, and left a tinge of shadowy regret on his feelings. He was, +therefore, in no mood to bear trifling, much less insult. Scarcely +had the offensive words passed Dewey's lips, when a blow in the face +staggered him back against the wall. Instantly recovering himself, +he sprang towards Wallingford in blind rage, and struck at him with a +savage energy; but the latter stepped aside, and let his assailant come, +with stunning force, against the wall at the other side of the office, +when he fell to the floor. + +At this instant, Judge Bigelow came in. + +"Henry! Ralph!" he exclaimed--"what is the meaning of this?" + +"Your nephew insulted me, and in the heat of anger I struck him in the +face. In attempting to return that blow, he missed his aim, and fell +against the wall, as you see." + +Wallingford spoke without excitement, but in a stern, resolute way. By +this time, Dewey was on his feet again. The sight of his uncle, and +the unflinching aspect of the person he had ventured to insult, had the +effect to cool off his excitement many degrees. + +"What is the meaning of this, young men?" sternly repeated Judge +Bigelow, looking from one to the other. + +"I have answered your question as far as I am concerned," replied Henry. + +"Ralph! Speak! Did you offer him an insult?" + +To this demand, the nephew replied, with no abatement of his originally +offensive manner-- + +"If he chooses to consider my words as an insult, let him do so. I shall +in no case take them back." + +"What did you say?" + +There was an imperative force in the Judge's manner. + +Dewey was silent. + +"What did he say,"--Judge Bigelow turned to Wallingford, "that you +should answer it with a blow?" + +"If he is satisfied with the answer," replied the latter, "the case can +rest where it is. If not, I am ready to meet him on any appeal. I He +will find me no trifler." + +The Judge turned again to his nephew. + +"Ralph! I insist upon having this matter explained. I know Henry too +well to believe that he would strike you, unless there had been strong +provocation." + +"Perhaps he regarded it as such; I did not," said Dewey. + +"If he is satisfied with his chastisement, there is no occasion to press +him farther, Judge." Wallingford was provoked to this by the young man's +cool impertinence. + +Dewey made a movement as if about to rush upon Wallingford, but the +Judge interposed his body to keep them apart. The appearance of a fourth +party at this juncture, in the person of Squire Floyd, the prospective +father-in-law of one of the belligerents, changed materially the aspect +of affairs. + +"Good-morning, Squire," said Wallingford, with a quickly assumed +cheerfulness of manner, smiling in his usual grave way. + +Both the Judge and his nephew saw reason to imitate the example of +Wallingford, and thus throw up a blind before the eyes of Squire +Floyd, who thought he perceived something wrong as he came in, but was +afterwards inclined to doubt the evidence of his senses. + +Wallingford retired in a few moments. When he came back to the office an +hour afterwards, he found a note of apology on his table, accompanied +by a request that so unpleasant an incident as the one which had just +occurred, might be suffered to pass into oblivion. No acknowledgment of +this communication was made by the young lawyer. He felt the strongest +kind of repugnance towards Dewey, and could not gain his own consent to +have any intercourse with him. His position, as an associate with +Judge Bigelow, occasionally brought him in contact with his nephew, who +recognized him always in a respectful manner. But Wallingford held him +ever coldly at a distance. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +The marriage of Delia Floyd was an event in our quiet town. It was +celebrated at the house of her father, in the presence of a large +company, who were invited to witness the ceremony, and take part in +the attendant festivities. The match was regarded generally as a most +desirable one for the young lady; and there was more than one mother +present who envied the good fortune which had given such a son-in-law to +Mrs. Floyd. I heard many snatches of conversation, half aside, in which +marvelous things were related, or suggested, touching the bridegroom's +fortune and the splendid home he had prepared for his bride. He was +looked upon as a prospective millionaire, and imagination pictured Delia +as the jeweled mistress of a palace home. Few seemed to think of any +thing beyond the promised worldly advantage. + +"I am glad that your daughter has married so well." + +"Let me congratulate you, Squire Floyd, on this splendid match." + +"It is not often, Mrs. Floyd, that a mother sees her daughter go forth +into the world with such brilliant prospects." + +"You have all that your heart can desire, so far as Delia is concerned, +Mrs. Floyd." + +"You are the envy of mothers." + +And so I heard the changes rung on all sides of me, and from the lips of +people who might have looked deeper if they had taken the trouble to use +their eyes. + +To me, the wedding was full of sad suggestions. It was one of those +social self-sacrifices, as common now as then, in which the victim +goes self-impelled to the altar, and lays upon its consuming fires the +richest dower of womanhood. + +I listened to the vows that were made on this occasion, and felt a low +thrill of repulsion as words of such solemn import trembled on the air, +for too well I knew that a union of souls in a true marriage, such as +Delia Floyd might consummate, was impossible here. Could she be happy +in this marriage? I gave to my own question an emphatic "No!" She might +have a gay, brilliant, exciting life; but to that deep peace which is +given to loving hearts, and which, in hours of isolation and loneliness, +she would desire with an irrepressible longing, she must forever be a +stranger. + +I looked into her beautiful young face as she stood receiving the +congratulations of friends, and felt as I had never felt before on such +an occasion. Instinctively my thought ran questioning along the future. +But no hopeful answer was returned. How was she to advance in that +inner-life development through which the true woman is perfected? I +pushed the question aside. It was too painful. Had she been one of +the great company of almost soulless women--if I may use such strong +language--who pass, yearly, through legal forms into the mere semblance +of a marriage, I might have looked on with indifference, for then, the +realization would, in all probability, be equal to the promise. But +Delia Floyd was of a different spiritual organization. She had higher +capabilities and nobler aspirations; and if the one found no true sphere +of development, while the other was doomed to beat its wings vainly +amid the lower atmospheres of life, was happiness in the case even a +possibility? + +Among the guests was Wallingford. It was six months, almost to a day, +since the dearest hope in life he had ever cherished went suddenly out, +and left him, for a season, in the darkness of despair. I did not expect +to see him on this occasion; and there was another, I think, who as +little anticipated his presence--I mean the bride. But he had shared in +the invitations, and came up to witness the sacrifice. To see, what a +few months before was to him the most precious thing in life, pass into +the full possession of another. Had not the fine gold grown dim in his +eyes? It had--dim with the tarnish that better natures receive when they +consent to dwell with inferior spirits, and breathe in an atmosphere +loaded with earthly exhalations. It would have been the highest delight +of his life to have ascended with her into the pure regions, where +thought builds tabernacles and establishes its dwelling-places. To have +walked onward, side by side, in a dear life companionship, towards the +goal of eternal spiritual oneness. But she had willed it otherwise; and +now he had come, resolutely, to bear the pain of a final sundering of +all bonds, that his soul might free itself from her soul completely and +forever. + +I first noticed him as the bridal party entered the room, and took their +places in front of the clergyman who was to officiate on the occasion. +He occupied a position that gave him a clear view of Delia's face, while +he was removed from general observation. Almost from the commencement to +the ending of the ceremony his gaze rested on her countenance. His head +was thrown a little forward, his brows slightly contracted, his lips +firmly set, and his eyes fixed as if the object upon which he was gazing +held him by an irresistible fascination. I was so much interested in him +that I scarcely looked at the bride during the ceremony. At last, the +minister, in conclusion, announced the twain to be husband and wife. +I saw Wallingford give a slight start as if a tensely strung chord of +feeling had been jarred. A moment more and the spell was broken! +Every lineament of his countenance showed this. The stern aspect gave +way--light trembled over the softening features--the body stood more +erect as if a great pressure had been removed. + +I noticed that he did not hold back in the excitement of congratulation +that followed the ceremony. I was near him when he took the hand of +Delia, and heard him say--not--"I congratulate you"--but "May your life +be a happy one." The tone was earnest and feeling, such as a brother +might use to a beloved sister. I held that tone long afterwards in my +memory, studying its signification. It had in it nothing of regret, or +pain, or sadness, as if he were losing something, but simply expressed +the regard and tender interest of a sincere well wisher. And so that +great trial was at an end for him. He had struggled manfully with a +great enemy to his peace, and this was his hour of triumph. + +With the bride's state of mind, as read in external signs, I was far +from being satisfied. Marriage, in any case, to one who thinks and +feels, is a thing of serious import; and even the habitually thoughtless +can hardly take its solemn vows upon their lips without falling into a +sober mood. We are, therefore, not surprised to see emotion put on signs +of pain--like April showers that weep away into sunshine. But in Delia's +face I saw something that went deeper than all this. + +"There is no one here," said I, taking her hand, and holding it tightly +in mine, "who wishes you well in the future more sincerely than I do." + +"I know it, Doctor," she answered, returning the warm grasp I gave her. +Her eyes rested steadily in mine, and saw a shadow in them. + +"We are sorry to lose you from S----. Indeed we cannot afford to lose +you." + +"She is wanted," spoke up her young husband a little proudly, "to grace +a wider and more brilliant sphere of life." + +"It is not the brilliant sphere that is always the happiest," said I. +"Life's truest pleasures come oftener to quiet home circles even among +the lowly, than to gilded palaces where fortune's favorites reside." + +"It is not to external condition," the bride remarked, "that we are to +look for happiness." I thought her voice had in it a pensive tone, as if +she were not wholly satisfied with the brilliant promise that lay before +her. "You know, Doctor, we have talked that over more than once in our +lives." + +"Yes, Delia; and it is a truth which we ought never to forget--one that +I trust you and your husband will lay up in your hearts." + +I turned to the young man desiring my admonition to reach him also. + +"Perhaps I might differ something from this sage conclusion," he +answered a little flippantly. "As far as I can see, the external +condition has a great deal to do with our happiness. I am very sure, +that if I were situated as some people are whom I know, I would be +miserable. So you see, Doctor, I have my doubts touching this theory of +yours and Delia's." + +"Time, I think, will demonstrate its truth," I said, in a graver tone, +and turned from them to give place to those who could talk in a lighter +strain than was possible for me on the occasion. + +During the evening I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with +the bride; but only when she happened to be a little separated from her +husband, towards whom his manner was coldly polite. The two young men, +after the scene in Judge Bigelow's office, only kept up, for the sake of +others, the shadow of acquaintanceship. Between them there was a strong +mutual repulsion which neither sought to overcome. + +As I remarked I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with the +bride. But nothing in his manner indicated any sentiment beyond that of +friendship. He was polite, cheerful, and at his ease. But it was +different with her. She was not at her ease in his company, and yet, +I could see that his attention was grateful--even pleasant. + +The augury was not good. As I read the signs, Delia Floyd, when she +passed from maidenhood to wifehood, departed from the path that led +to happiness in this world. And I said to myself as I pondered her +future--"May the disappointments and sorrows that are almost sure to +come, turn her feet aside into the right way at last!" + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +On the day following, the young husband bore his bride away to grace +the prouder home that awaited her in New York; and affairs in our town +settled themselves down into the old routine. + +During the few months that have passed since the opening of our story, +the only matter that has occurred, of any interest to the reader, at +the Allen House, is the fact that Judge Bigelow has undertaken the +management of Mrs. Montgomery's affairs, and the establishment of her +claim to the possession, as only heir, of the whole of Captain Allen's +property. Some legal difficulties, bearing upon her identification as +his sister, were in the way; and in the effort to remove these, there +had been considerable correspondence with persons in England. + +The first fact to be clearly proved was the solemnization of a marriage +between Mrs. Montgomery's mother and the elder Captain Allen. Next, the +identity of Mrs. Montgomery as her child. No marriage certificate, nor +any record of the fact, as to the exact time and place, were known to +be in existence; and without them, or evidence of a very conclusive +character, the title of Mrs. Montgomery could not be clearly +established. + +This, Judge Bigelow stated to her in the beginning; but, up to this +time, no such evidence had been found. + +Mrs. Montgomery's health was not good, and as she required occasional +medical aid, my visits to the Allen House were continued. The more +intimately I came to know this lady, the higher did she rise in my +esteem. She united strength of mind with clearness of perception: and +decision of character with prudence and justice. She had, likewise, a +depth and tenderness of feeling that often exhibited itself in beautiful +incidents. The dignity of manner, which at first seemed touched with +hauteur, now only gave grace to her fine proportions. + +She had, from the beginning, spoken to me without reserve of her +affairs, in which I naturally took deep interest. One day she said:-- + +"Doctor, I wish to get your opinion in regard to an individual whom +Judge Bigelow proposes to send out to England for me on important +business. He is a young man, associated with him, as I understand it, +professionally. + +"Mr. Wallingford, you mean?" + +"Yes, that is the name, I believe. Do you know him?" + +"Very well." + +"Is he prudent, intelligent, and reliable?" + +"I think so." + +"You only think so, Doctor?" + +"I can speak in stronger terms. As far as one can know another, I am +ready to say that _he is_ prudent, intelligent, and reliable. If I had +important business to transact at a distant point, and needed a trusty +agent, I would select him before any other man in S----." + +"I wish no better testimony, Doctor, and am glad to know that I can +procure an agent so well qualified." + +"Have you seen him?" I inquired. + +"No. But Judge Bigelow is to bring him here today, in order that I may +see and converse with him." + +"You will find him," said I, "a young man of few words and unobtrusive +manners--but solid as a rock. I have seen him under circumstances +calculated to test the character of any man." + +"What are the circumstances, if you are free to speak of them?" asked +Mrs. Montgomery. "We get always a truer estimate of a man, when we +see him in some great battle of life; for then, his real qualities and +resources become apparent." + +I thought for a little while before answering. It did not seem just +right to draw aside the veil that strangers' eyes might look upon a +life-passage such as was written in Wallingford's Book of Memory. The +brief but fierce struggle was over with him; and he was moving steadily +onward, sadder, no doubt, for the experience, and wiser, no doubt. +But the secret was his own, and I felt that no one ought to meddle +therewith. Still, a relation of the fact, showing how deeply the man +could feel, and how strong he was in self-mastery, could not but raise +him in the estimation of Mrs. Montgomery, and increase her confidence. + +"It is hardly fair," said I, "to bring up the circumstances of a man's +life over which he has drawn a veil; and which are sacred to himself +alone. In this case, however, with the end of enabling you more fully to +know the person you think of sending abroad on an important service, +I will relate an occurrence that cannot fail to awaken in your mind an +interest for the young man, such as we always feel for those who have +passed through deep suffering." + +Blanche was sitting by her mother. Indeed, the two were almost +inseparable companions. It was a rare thing to find them apart. I saw +her face kindle with an earnest curiosity. + +"Judge Bigelow's nephew was married, recently," I said. + +"So the Judge informed me. He spoke very warmly of his nephew, who is a +merchant in New York, I think he said." + +"He is a partner in a mercantile firm there. The bride was Squire +Floyd's daughter; a very superior girl--lovely in character, attractive +in person, and, mentally, well cultivated. I have always regarded her as +the flower of our town." + +"The young man had good taste, it seems," Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +"Better than the young lady showed in taking him for a husband," said I. + +"Ah? Then your opinion of him is not so favorable." + +"He was not worthy of her, if I possess any skill in reading character. +But there was one worthy of her, and deeply attached to her at the same +time." + +"This young Wallingford, of whom we were speaking?" + +"The same." + +"But she didn't fancy him?" + +"She did fancy him. But--" + +"Was not able to resist the attractions of a New York merchant, when put +in opposition to those of a humble country lawyer?" + +"The truth lies about there. She took the showy effigy of a man, in +place of the real man." + +"A sad mistake. But it is made every day," said Mrs. Montgomery, "and +will continue to be made. Alas for the blindness and folly that lead so +many into paths that terminate in barren deserts, or wildernesses where +the soul is lost! And so our young friend has been crossed in love." + +"The experience is deeper than usual," said I. Then I related, with some +particularity, the facts in the case, already known to the reader. +Both the mother and daughter listened with deep attention. After I had +finished my story, Mrs. Montgomery said, + +"He possesses will and strength of character, that is plain; but I can't +say that I just like the deliberate process of _un_loving, if I may use +the word, which you have described. There is something too cold-blooded +about it for me. Like the oak, bent under the pressure of a fierce +storm, he comes up erect too soon." + +I smiled at her view of the case, and answered, + +"You look upon it as a woman, I as a man. To me, there is a certain +moral grandeur in the way he has disenthralled himself from fetters that +could not remain, without a life-long disability." + +"Oh, no doubt it was the wisest course," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"And may we not look among the wisest men, for the best and most +reliable?" I queried. + +"Among those who are truly wise," she said, her voice giving emphasis to +the word _truly_. + +"What is it to be truly wise?" + +"All true wisdom," she answered, "as it appertains to the affairs of +this life, has its foundation in a just regard for others; for, in the +degree that we are just to others, are we just to ourselves." + +"And is not the converse of your proposition true also? In the degree +that we are just to ourselves, are we not just to others?" + +"Undoubtedly. Each individual bears to common society, the same relation +that a member, organ, or fibre, does to the human body, of which it +makes a part. And as no member, organ, or fibre of the body, can injure +itself without injuring the whole man; so no individual can do wrong +to himself, without a consequent wrong to others. Each has duties +to perform for the good of common society, and any self-inflicted or +self-permitted disabilities that hinder the right performance of these +duties, involve a moral wrong." + +"Then the case is very clear for my friend Wallingford," said I. "He is +a wise man in your sense of the word--wise, in resolutely putting away +from his mind the image of one who, if she had been worthy of him, would +have taken her place proudly by his side; but, proving herself unworthy, +could never afterward be to him more than a friend or stringer. He could +not hold her image in his heart, and fondly regard it, without sin; for +was she not to be the bride of another? Nor without suffering loss of +mental power, and life-purpose, and thus injuring others trough neglect +of duty. It was acting wisely, then, for him to come up, manfully, to +the work of drawing back his misplaced affections, and getting them +again fully into his own possession. And he has done the work, if I read +the signs aright. All honor to his manhood!" + +"He has, I see, a warm advocate in you, Doctor," said Mrs. Montgomery, +again smiling. "Still, in an affair of the heart, where so much was +involved, as seemed to be in his case, we can hardly fancy such a +matter-of-fact, business-like proceeding as you have described. He might +well have been forgiven, if he had shown more weakness of character, and +acted even a little unreasonably. I will yield to no one in my regard +for manly firmness and self-control, for bravery and endurance; and +I have seen these qualities put to some of the severest tests. But +in matters of the heart, I must own that I like to see a man show his +weakness. Your Mr. Wallingford is too cool and calculating for me. But +this is irrelevant to our consideration of his qualities as a business +agent. For this purpose, I am satisfied that he is fitted in all things +essential." + +"And that is quite as far as we need go," said I. + +"The business in hand," said Mrs. Montgomery, resuming the conversation +after a pause, "is of great importance to me, and may require not only +a visit to England, but also to the West Indies. Unless evidence of my +mother's marriage can be found, there will be, as you know, considerable +difficulty in establishing my full right to inherit my brother's +property. And my identity as the sister of the late Captain Allen must +also be proved. By the will of my father, which is on record, he +left all of his property to my brother. He, as far as is known, died +intestate. As next of kin, I am the legal heir; but the proof is yet +wanting. My mother's cousin, a Colonel Willoughby, of whom we have +before spoken, came over from England, on the strength of some vague +rumors that reached the family from Jamaica, and was successful in +discovering the only survivor of his uncle's family. She saw it best to +abandon her husband, as you know. My purpose in sending an agent, versed +in legal matters, and used to weighing evidence, is to have such papers +of Colonel Willoughby's as the family possess and will submit for +examination, carefully searched, in the hope that some record may be +found in his hand-writing, sufficiently clear to establish the fact that +my mother was the wife of the elder Captain Allen. So important an event +as that of searching out my mother, and inducing her to flee from her +husband, could hardly have taken place, it seems to me, without evidence +of the fact being preserved. And my hope is, that this evidence, if it +can be found, will prove of great value. So you see, Doctor, that I have +good reasons for wishing to know well the agent who goes abroad with a +matter so vital as this in his hands." + +I admitted the importance of a thoroughly reliable man to go upon this +mission, and repeated my faith in Wallingford. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +I saw Mrs. Montgomery a few days afterwards, and inquired if she +had seen the young associate of Judge Bigelow. She replied in the +affirmative. + +"How does he impress you?" I asked. + +"Favorably, upon the whole; though," she added with one of her meaning +smiles, "I can't help thinking all the time about the cool, calculating, +resolute way in which he went about disentangling himself from an +unfortunate love affair. I look at his calm face, over which you rarely +see a ripple of feeling go, and ask myself, sometimes, if a heart really +beats within his bosom." + +"There does; a true, large, manly heart, full of deep feeling; you may +be sure of this, madam," I answered, with some warmth. + +"I will not gainsay your words, Doctor. I trust for his sake that it may +be so." + +"Leaving out the heart matter, and regarding him only as to his fitness +for the work in hand, you are favorably impressed?" + +"Quite so. I find him quick of apprehension, intelligent, and of +sufficient gravity of deportment to ensure a respectful attention +wherever he may go. He made one suggestion that ought to have occurred +to me, and upon which I am acting. As no will has been found, it has +been assumed that Captain Allen died intestate. Mr. Wallingford suggests +that a will may have been executed; and that a thorough search be made +in order to discover if one exists. In consequence of this suggestion, +Blanche and I have been hard at work for two days, prying into drawers, +examining old papers, and looking into all conceivable, and I had almost +said inconceivable places." + +"And if you were to find a will?" said I, looking into her earnest face. + +"The question would be that much nearer to a solution." + +"Is it at all probable that it would be in your favor?" + +I saw her start at the query, while her brows closed slightly, as if +from a sudden pain. She looked at me steadily for a few moments, without +speaking; then, after a long inspiration, she said: + +"Whether in my favor or not, any disposition that he has made of his +property, in law and right, must, of course, stand good." + +"You might contest such a will, if not in your favor." + +She shook her head, compressed her lips firmly, and said: + +"No. I should not contest the will. My belief was, when I came here, +that he died without making a bequest of any kind, and that his property +would go, in consequence, to the heir-at-law. This was the information +that I received. If it should prove otherwise, I shall make no +opposition." + +"Do you intend, under this view, continuing the search for a will?" + +Something in the tone of voice touched her unpleasantly. I saw the light +in her eyes glow intenser, and her lips arch. + +"Why not?" she asked, looking at me steadily. I could have given another +meaning to my question from the one I intended to convey, had it so +pleased me, and thus avoided a probable offence. But I wished to see a +little deeper into the quality of her mind, and so used the probe that +was in my hand. + +"If you find a will, devising the property out of your line, all your +present prospects are at an end," said I. + +"I know it." + +Her voice was firm as well as emphatic. + +"Then why not take the other horn of this dilemma? Give up searching for +a will that can hardly be in your favor, and go on to prove your title +through consanguinity." + +"And thus shut my eyes to the probable rights of others, in order to +secure a personal advantage? Do you think I would do this, Doctor? If +so, you have mistaken me." + +There was a tone of regret in her voice. + +"Pardon me," I replied. "The suggestion was natural under the +circumstances, and I gave it utterance." + +"Were you in my place, would you give up the search here?" + +She fixed on me a penetrating look. + +The probe had changed hands. + +"It is difficult," I answered, "for us to say what we would do if we +were to change places with another. In my experience, it is easy to see +what is right for our neighbor, but very difficult to see the right way +for ourselves, when under the allurement of some personal advantage." + +"Would it be right in me to give up the search?" + +"I think not." + +My answer was without hesitation. + +"And I will not," she said, firmly. "If my brother has devised his +property, I have only to know the terms of his will. If it is against +me, well. I shall not oppose its operation." + +"It sometimes happens," I suggested, "that a testator is manifestly +out of his right mind as to the direction given to his property, and +bequeaths it in a manner so evidently unwise and improper, that both +justice and humanity are served in the act of setting aside the will. +And it might prove so in this case." + +"I know not how that may be," Mrs. Montgomery answered, soberly, yet +firmly. "But this I do know"--she spoke resolutely--"God helping me, I +will not stain my hands with gold that, in any legal right, belongs to +another. What is clearly mine, I will take and use as it is my right +and duty. But I must be certain that it is mine. If there is no will, I +am clear as to who is the owner of this estate; if there is a will, and +I and mine are not included in its provisions, I will step aside. First, +however, the obligation to search for a will is imperative; and I shall +continue it until clearly satisfied that no such document exists." + +What a womanly dignity there was in Mrs. Montgomery as she said this, +drawing her tall form up to its full height in speaking--not proudly, +but with conscious integrity! + +"What is right is always best." I made the remark as well approvingly as +in expression of an immutable truth. + +"Always, always," she replied, with earnestness. "There is no blinder +folly than that of grasping a present worldly good, at the expense of +violated justice. Whoever does so, comes out that far wrong in the end. +There is only one way that leads to peace of mind: the way of honor and +right. All other ways, no matter into what rich harvest fields they may +lead in the beginning, terminate in wretchedness. There never has been, +and never will be, any exception to this rule. We see its operation +daily, turn our eyes whatsoever way we choose. And God forbid that I +should deliberately enter the way that leads to ultimate unhappiness! +Self-denial in the present is better than gnawing regret in the future. +The good things of this world prove to be curses instead of blessings, +unless the mind be rightly adjusted for their enjoyment. And such a +right adjustment is impossible where the very fact of their possession +involves a moral wrong. I see this so clearly, Doctor, that I shudder +inwardly at the bare imagination of committing such a wrong." + +"It is by trial that God proves us," said I, "and may He bring you out +of this one, should the trial come, as gold from the refiner's furnace!" + +"Amen!" was her solemnly uttered response; "if it should come, may I be +found strong enough to do the right!" + +For over a week this search for a will was continued, until it was +clear to all concerned that no such document was in existence. Then +preparation was made for the visit to England, in search of evidence +bearing upon the identity of Mrs. Montgomery as the sister of Captain +Allen. Two or three months elapsed, however, before Mr. Wallingford +could so arrange his business as to be absent for the length of time +it might take to complete his mission. He sailed for England in June, +between three and four months after the marriage of Delia Floyd. He +called to see me on the day before leaving, and I had a brief but +pleasant talk with him. He was in good health and good spirits, and +anticipated a successful visit. + +"I shall gain," he remarked, "in two ways by this trip. Professionally +and intellectually. I have had many a dream of that land of our +forefathers--England--now to be realized. I shall see London, walk its +streets, and linger amid its historic places. Don't smile at this +almost boyish enthusiasm, Doctor. London has always been the Mecca of my +desires." + +I had never seen him so animated. A higher life seemed flowing in his +veins. His countenance had a brighter aspect than usual, and his head +an erecter carriage. There was a depth of meaning in his eyes never +observed before--a look as if some new born hope were lending its +inspiration to his soul. Altogether manlier was his aspect and bearing +than I had ever seen it. + +"God speed your mission," said I, as I shook hands with him in parting. + +"If it depends on human agency, directed with earnestness, patience, and +will, my mission will have a prosperous result," he replied. "It is to +be my first entirely self-reliant experience, and I think the discipline +of mind it will involve must strengthen me for higher professional work +than any in which I have yet been engaged. You are aware, Doctor, that +my heart is in my profession." + +"So I have seen from the beginning." + +"I will not deny," he added, "that I have ambition. That I wish to be +distinguished at the bar." + +"An honorable ambition," said I. + +"Nor that, sometimes--in moments of weakness, perhaps--my dreams +have gone higher. But I am a very young man, and youth is ardent and +imaginative," he added. + +"And you have this great advantage," I replied, "that, with every year +added to your life, you may, if you will, grow wiser and stronger. You +stand, as all young minds, at the bottom of a ladder. The height to +which you climb will depend upon your strength and endurance." + +"If we both live long enough, Doctor, you may see me on the topmost +rundle, for I shall climb with unwearying effort." + +He spoke with a fine enthusiasm, that lent a manly beauty to his face. + +"Climb on," I answered, "and you will rise high above the great mass, +who are aimless and indolent. But you will have competitors, few, but +vigorous and tireless. In the contest for position that you must wage +with these, all your powers will be taxed; and if you reach the +topmost rundle to which you aspire, success will be, indeed, a proud +achievement." + +"I have the will, the ambition, the courage, and the endurance, Doctor," +was his reply. "So, if I fail, the fault will lie here," and he touched, +significantly, his forehead. + +"For lack of brains?" said I, smiling. + +"Yes. The defect will lie there," he answered, smiling in return. + +"Brains are remarkable for latent capacity. If stimulated, they develop +new powers, and this almost without limit. All they want is to be well +supplied with the right kind of food, and well worked at the same time." + +"I believe that, Doctor, and find vast encouragement in the thought," +and Wallingford laughed pleasantly. + +Our parting words were growing voluminous. So we shook hands again, +repeated our mutual good wishes, and separated. In the afternoon he +started for Boston, from whence he sailed, on the next day, for England. + +This was towards the latter end of June. He was to write to Mrs. +Montgomery immediately on his arrival out, and again as soon as he had +obtained an interview with the Willoughby family. Early in August, +she received his first letter, which was brief, simply announcing his +arrival at Liverpool. + +About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note +from Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed +something in her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not smile, as +was her wont, when we met, her countenance retaining its usual serious +expression. I thought she looked paler, and just a little troubled. + +"Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor," she said. "I am afraid you +will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly interest +in me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a sound +adviser." + +I bowed, and she continued: + +"I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, +been well received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, +for examination, a large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel +Willoughby." + +"If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be sure to +find it," said I. + +"No doubt of that. But"--I thought her voice faltered a little--"the +question is solved, and he may return." + +"Solved! How?" I asked quickly. + +"I have found the will." + +"What?" + +"I have found the will," she repeated, in a steady tone, "and that +solves the question." + +"Is it in your favor?" I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. It +came in a firmly uttered-- + +"No." + +We looked steadily into each other's face for several moments. + +"In whose favor?" + +"In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife," she replied. + +"But she is dead," I answered quickly. + +"True--but I am not his heir." + +She said this resolutely. + +"She died childless," said I, "and will not the descent stop with +her?--the property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain Allen?" + +"She may have relatives--a brother or sister," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"That is scarcely probable," I objected. + +"It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means +ought to, and must be, taken." + +"Where did you find the will?" I inquired. + +"Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she +accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She +pressed harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back +several inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to its +place. She then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As soon +as it had passed a certain point, a secret drawer, set in vertically, +sprung up, and from the side, which fell open, the will dropped out." + +"It is singular," said I, "that it should come to light just at this +time." + +"It is Providential, no doubt," Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +"What course will you pursue?" I inquired. + +"My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford." + +"I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that," said I. + +"On what ground?" + +"This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no more. +If the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you stood before, +and will require the evidence as to identity for which Mr. Wallingford +is now in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must not be recalled." + +The lady mused for a little while, and then said-- + +"Perhaps you are right, Doctor." + +"I am sure of it," I replied, speaking earnestly. "This will, if we +find it, on examination, to be an instrument executed according to +legal forms, puts your rights in jeopardy, though by no means sets them +aside." + +"You take the correct view, no doubt," was her reply to this. Her voice +was not so firm as in the beginning. As the probabilities began to show +themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of self-possession. + +"Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work," said I, "and find, if possible, +the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the legal heir, as I +trust you will. And until his return, the existence of this important +document had better remain a secret." + +"Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?" + +I reflected for some moments, and then replied-- + +"Yes. He is your legal adviser, and one in whom the highest confidence +may be reposed. The will should be at once placed in his hands for +examination." + +"And go upon record?" + +"Better leave all to his superior legal judgment. But," as the thought +occurred to me, "who are named as the executors of this will?" + +"I did not examine as to that, being too much interested in the +provisions of the writing," she replied. + +"May I see the document?" + +"Blanche, dear, you will find it in the right-hand drawer of the +secretary, in our room;" and Mrs. Montgomery handed a key to her +daughter, who left the apartment in which we were sitting. She came back +in a few minutes, and handed me a paper, which, on examination, I found +to be written throughout, and evidently by the hand of Captain Allen. It +was dated San Juan de Porto Rico, January 10, 1820, and was witnessed by +two signatures--the names Spanish. The executors were Judge Bigelow and +Squire Floyd. There was an important sentence at the conclusion of the +will. It was in these words:--"In case my wife, in dying, should leave +no relatives, then every thing shall revert to my own right heirs, +should any be living." + +All this gave the affair, in my mind, a more serious aspect. Before +mentioning the executors' names, I said-- + +"Do you know where Theresa Garcia resided, before her marriage with +Captain Allen?" + +"In Porto Rico, as I have learned from old 'Aunty,' and also from +letters found in searching for the will." + +"Which I find was executed at San Juan De Porto Rico, the principal town +on the island. Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd are the executors." + +I saw her start slightly, and grow a little pale as I said this. + +"Judge Bigelow, and Squire Floyd! That is extraordinary!" She was more +disturbed than I had yet seen her in reference to this matter. + +"It is remarkable, certainly, that Judge Bigelow, your legal adviser, +should be one of the executors of a will, which determines your +brother's estate out of the line of consanguinity." + +"He must, of course, cease to represent my interest in the case," +remarked the lady. + +"He cannot represent two diverse interests," said I. + +"No; that is clear." She said this in a troubled way; and was, +evidently, falling into a perplexed state of mind. "Well, Doctor, what +is to be done?" She spoke with recovered self-possession, after a short +period of silence, looking at me with her old calmness of expression. + +I took some moments for reflection, and then said, + +"My advice is, to keep your own counsel, and wait until Mr. Wallingford +returns from England. Whenever you place this document in the hands of +Judge Bigelow, he must go over to the adverse interest; when you will +be compelled to seek another legal adviser. You are not just ready for +this; nor will be until after your agent comes back with the result of +his investigations. No wrong to any one can possibly occur from letting +things remain just as they are for a few months." + +"I think your view of the matter correct, Doctor," was her reply. "And +yet, to keep this secret, even for an hour, when I have no right to its +possession, touches my conscience. Is it just? This will is not in my +favor. It does not even recognize my existence. It devises property, +of large value, in another line; and there may be heirs ready to take +possession, the moment its existence is made known to them. Am I not +intermeddling, unjustly, in the affairs of another?" + +"But for you," I replied, "this will might never have seen the light. If +heirs exist, they can, therefore, have no just reason for complaint at +the brief delay to which, under the circumstances, you are, in +common justice, entitled. Your conscience may be over sensitive, Mrs. +Montgomery." + +"I would rather it were over sensitive than obtuse," she said. "Worldly +possessions are desirable. They give us many advantages. We all desire +and cling to them. But they are dearly bought at the price of heavenly +possessions. What will it profit a man if he gain the whole world and +lose his own soul? Nothing! It were better for him to die like Lazarus. +No, Doctor, I am resolved in this matter to be simply just. If, in +justice and right, this estate comes into my hands, I will take the +wealth thankfully and use it as wisely as I can. But I will not throw +a single straw in the way of its passing to the legal heirs of my +brother's wife, if any are in existence and can be found." + +"But you will keep this secret until Mr. Wallingford's return?" I urged. + +"I do not see that wrong to any one can follow such a delay," she +answered. "Yes, I will keep the secret." + +"And I will keep it also, even from my good Constance," said I, "until +your agent's return. The matter lies sacred between us." + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +"Mrs. Dewey is at her father's," said my wife to me, one evening in +August, as we sat at the tea-table. + +"Ah! have you seen her?" I was interested at once. Six months had +elapsed since Delia's wedding, and this was her first visit home; though +her mother had been twice down to New York, in company with the Squire, +who had business with the firm to which Ralph belonged. In fact, since +his marriage to Squire Floyd's daughter, young Dewey had prevailed upon +his father-in-law to make the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., agents +for the entire product of his manufactory--an arrangement which the +Squire regarded as greatly to his advantage. + +My question was answered in the affirmative. + +"How is she?" + +"Looking very well." + +There was no warmth or feeling in my wife's voice or manner, although +Delia had been a favorite with her, and we had often talked about the +pleasure we should have in meeting her again. + +"Have you nothing more to say of our young friend?" I asked. + +"She is very much changed." + +"For the better?" + +"Some might think so. I do not." There was a disappointed manner about +my wife. + +"In what respect is she changed?" + +"Some would say that she had grown handsome; and, in truth, her +countenance strikes you, at first, as much improved. It is rounded to a +fuller outline, and has a style about it, caught, I suppose, from city +life and feeling. But she carries her head with a statelier air than is +becoming Squire Floyd's daughter; and I am very sure, that, as the wife +of Ralph Dewey, she has acquired no special consequence. Rich jewelry +may be very well in city drawing-rooms, and public assemblages, where +dress is made conspicuous. But to sport diamond ear-rings and breastpin, +splendid enough for a countess, in her father's little parlor, and +before the eyes of friends who loved her once for herself alone, savored +so strongly of weak pride and vanity, that I could not look upon her +with any of my old feelings. It was Delia Floyd no longer. Already, +the pure, sweet, artless maiden, had changed into a woman of the world, +dressed up for show. Ah, my husband! if this is the effect of city life, +let me never breathe its tainted atmosphere." + +And she dropped her eyes, with a sigh, and sat, lost in thought, for +several moments. + +"Your account of Delia pains me," said I. "Is the case indeed so bad?" + +"It is. Alas! the fine gold is dimmed. Our sweet young friend has +strayed from the paths of nature, and will never, I fear, get back +again." + +"Had you any conversation with her?" I inquired. + +"Yes: or, rather I listened to her, as she ran on about her city life; +the grand people with whom, she had already become acquainted; and the +splendor of balls, parties, soirees, and operas. I grew sober as she +talked: for not one true womanly sentiment fell from her lips. She did +not express interest in any of her new friends and acquaintances for +the good qualities they possessed; but spoke of their wealth, style of +living, social connections, and other attractions wholly external to the +individual. She was even eloquent over star actresses and opera singers; +one or two of whom she spoke of having met at the house of a fashionable +friend." + +"How true the old adage, that evil communications corrupt good manners!" +said I. + +"There must be some radical weakness in a case of such sudden +deterioration as this," replied my wife. "Some latent vanity and love of +the world. I cannot believe that one sensible young woman in ten would +be spoiled to the degree that Delia is spoiled, if you passed her +through like temptations." + +I saw Delia myself, on the next day. She was dressed in New York, not in +S----, style; and so, naturally, appeared to disadvantage in my eyes. +I found her very bright and animated; and to my questions as to her +new city life, she spoke warmly of its attractions. At times, in the +intervals of exciting talk, her countenance would fall into its true +expression, as nearly all countenances will when thought ceases to be +active--that expression, in which you see, as in a mirror, the actual +state of mind. It revealed far more than came into her consciousness at +the time, else would she have covered it with one of the rippling smiles +she had already learned to throw, like a spangled veil, over her face. + +Mrs. Dewey spent nearly a month in S----and then went back with her +husband to New York. I saw them several times together during this +period. He had grown more pompous in manner, and talked in a larger way. +Our little town was simply contemptible in his eyes, and he was at no +pains to conceal his opinion. New York was everything; and a New York +merchant of passable standing, able to put two or three towns like +S----in his breeches pocket. + +The only interest I felt in this conceited young man was as the husband +of my young friend; and as touching their relation to each other, I +observed both of them very closely. It did not take me long to discover +that there was no true bond of love between them. The little fond +attentions that we look for in a husband of only six months' standing; +and the tender reciprocations which are sure to follow, were all wanting +here. Constance spoke of this, and I answered, lightly, to cover the +regret the fact occasioned-- + +"It is not fashionable in good society, you know, for husband and wife +to show any interest in each other." + +She laid her hand suddenly upon my arm, and looked lovingly into my +face. + +"May we never make a part of good society, then!" + +I kissed her pure lips, and answered, + +"There is no present prospect of it, my Constance. I am not ambitious of +social distinction. Still, our trial in this direction may come, for you +know that I am not without ambition professionally. A chair in one of +the medical schools might tempt me to an Atlantic city." + +Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm. Then looking +from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on the floor, +while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the cradle, she +said:-- + +"I shall not need the glitter of diamonds--these are my jewels." + +Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at sight +of a husband's kiss. Could I do less than breathe my tender love upon +her lips again? + +"And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen," said I. +"As a mother, woman attains her highest glory." + +"As wife and mother," Constance answered quickly. And now she leaned +against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her. + +"And all this," she said, "a good society woman must give up; and for +what? God help them in the time of life's bitter trials and painful +experience, which all must endure in some degree!" She spoke with strong +feeling. "On what arm can a woman lean, who has no husband in the true +sense? Is she strong enough, standing alone, for life's great battles? +What has she to sustain her, when all the external support, received +from pride, is swept away? Alas! Alas! Is there a blinder folly than the +pageantry of fashionable society? It is the stage on a grander scale, +glittering, gorgeous, fascinating to the senses--but all a mere +show, back from which the actors retire, each with an individual +consciousness, and the sad words pressing to tremulous lips--'The heart +knoweth its own bitterness.'" + +Like ourselves, most of Delia's best friends were disappointed, and when +she returned to New York, no hearts followed her with tender interest, +except those of her own family. She had carried herself with an air +of too much self-consequence; or, if she came down to the level of +old friends and companions, it was with too evident a feeling of +condescension. + +I happened to fall into the company of Squire Floyd and Judge Bigelow, +not very long after the return of Delia and her husband to New York. +The conversation turned upon business, and I learned that the Squire had +thought of enlarging his mill, and introducing steam--the water power +being only sufficient for its present productive capacity. Judge +Bigelow was very much interested, I found, in the particular branch of +manufacture in which his neighbor was engaged, and inclined to embark +some capital with him in the proposed extension of the works. They +frequently quoted the Judge's nephew, Mr. Ralph Dewey, as to the extent +to which goods could be put into market by the house of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee & Co., who possessed, it was conceded, almost unlimited facilities. + +I listened to their conversation, which involved plans of enlargement, +statistics of trade, home and foreign production, capital, and the +like, until I began to feel that I was moving in a narrow sphere, and +destined, in comparison with them, to occupy a very small space on the +world. And I will confess it, a shade of dissatisfaction crept over my +heart. + +A few months later I learned that my two neighbors were jointly +interested in the mill, and that early in the ensuing spring steam-power +would be introduced, and the capacity of the works increased to more +than double their present range. + +It was December when Wallingford returned from England. He brought +back with him all the evidence required to prove the identity of Mrs. +Montgomery. Up to this time only three persons knew of the existence of +a will--Mrs. Montgomery, Blanche, and myself; and we formed a council on +the question of what was now to be done. I gave it as my opinion, that, +as Judge Bigelow was one of the executors, and must in consequence cease +to act for Mrs. Montgomery, that we had better call in Mr. Wallingford, +and get his view of the case before placing the will in Judge Bigelow's +hands. The mother and daughter agreed with me. So a time of meeting was +appointed, and a note sent to the young lawyer desiring his presence +at the house of Mrs. Montgomery. He seemed very much gratified at the +successful result of his visit to England, and referred to it with +something of pardonable pride in his manner. + +"We have every reason," said Mrs. Montgomery, in response to this, "to +be satisfied with the manner in which you have executed an important +mission. Since you left America, however, a document has come into my +hands, which, had it reached me earlier, would have saved you a long and +tedious search among mouldy and moth-eaten papers. It was nothing less +than Captain Allen's will." + +And she gave him the paper. He looked surprised, and for a moment or two +bewildered. Then opening the will, he read it through rapidly. I saw the +color leave his face as he progressed, and his hand move nervously. +It was plain that his mind took in, at a grasp, the entire series of +consequences which the appearance of this document involved. + +"This is a serious matter," he said, looking up at Mrs. Montgomery. + +"It is," she answered, calmly. "The will appears to be in legal form." + +"Yes." + +"And must go into the hands of those who are named as executors." + +"And be by them entered in the office of probate," added Wallingford. + +"I would have placed it in their hands immediately on its discovery, but +have, acting under advice from my kind friend here, waited until your +return from England. No interest has suffered, I presume, by this +delay?" + +"None." + +Wallingford bent his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time as if +half-confounded by the discovery. + +"What step will the executors probably take?" I inquired. + +"It will be their duty to assume possession of the estate, and hold it +for the heirs of Mrs. Allen, if any are in existence," he replied. + +"And it will be their duty to take all proper means for discovering +these heirs?" said I. + +"Yes. That follows, of course." + +"And if none are found within a reasonable time?" I asked. + +"The phrase, a reasonable time, is very indeterminate," said +Wallingford. "It may include one, or ten years, according to the facts +in the case, the views of the executors and the courts." + +"But, finally?" + +"Finally," he answered, "if no heirs come forward to claim the estate, +it will revert to the old line of descent through the blood relations of +Captain Allen." + +"And come into the possession of Mrs. Montgomery?" + +"Yes, if the courts are satisfied with the evidence which can be +presented in her favor." + +There followed a long silence, which Mrs. Montgomery was first to break. + +"I believe," she said, firmly, "that I am prepared for the final issue +of this matter, whatever it may be. I shall still require legal advice, +Mr. Wallingford." + +The young man bowed assent. + +"And, as Judge Bigelow is one of the executors--" + +"I do not think, madam," said Wallingford, interrupting her, "that the +fact of his executorship will make him any the less a safe adviser for +you. He is a man of the highest integrity of character, clear-seeing, +and of impartial judgment." + +"I believe in his judgment and integrity," she replied. "Still, I do not +think it well to have these two interests represented by the same man. +You are his associate, if I understand correctly the relation between +you." + +"I am, in a certain sense." + +"Do you have a share in all of his business?" + +"Not in all." + +"So he can be independent of you in any special case if he deems it +desirable." + +"Yes." + +"And this is also true as regards yourself?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, Mr. Wallingford, I shall consult you, individually, in future." + +He bowed low in acquiescence. + +"And let me say to you, once for all, that I want only my rights, if I +have any, protected. I do not wish any impediments thrown in the way +of a proper search for the heirs of Mrs. Allen; but desire to see the +fullest notice given, and in channels by which it is most likely to +reach them. At the same time, it is but just to me and mine that all +right steps should be taken to protect my interests, in case no heirs +should be found. And I have faith in you, Mr. Wallingford." + +"You shall never have cause to regret your confidence, madam," he +replied, in a tone so full of manly integrity, that I could not but gaze +upon his fine countenance with a feeling of admiration. + +"Will you place this will in the hands of Judge Bigelow?" asked Mrs. +Montgomery. + +"It will be best for you to do that yourself, madam," replied +Wallingford. + +"I will be guided by your judgment in the case, sir. This very day I +will send him a note asking an interview." + +"After that, madam," said Wallingford, rising, "I will be at your +service." + +We retired together. + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +Both Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd were discreet men, and did not, at +the outset of their executorship, do more in the way of giving publicity +to the fact, than probating the will, and entering into bonds for the +faithful performance of the trust. For the present they decided to let +Mrs. Montgomery remain in occupancy of the old mansion, and she accepted +this concession in her favor. + +The property left by Captain Allen was large. The grounds upon which the +old house stood, embraced nearly twenty acres, and as the town had grown +in that direction, its value might now be estimated by the foot, instead +of the acre, as houses had grown up on all sides. Moreover, the stream +of water upon which the mill of Squire Floyd stood, ran through these +grounds, in a series of picturesque rapids, giving a fall of over twenty +feet. The value of this property, including a mill site, was estimated +at sixty thousand dollars. Then there were twenty thousand dollars in +stock of the County Bank, the interest of which Mrs. Allen had drawn +since the death of her husband, regularly, as administratrix of the +estate. Besides this property, there were several pieces of unimproved +land in and around the town, the value of which could not fall much +below twenty thousand dollars. In addition to all this, was a coffee +estate on the island of Porto Rico. But as to its extent, or value, no +evidence appeared. It might now be richly productive, or a mere tropical +wilderness. If productive, no evidence of any return since Captain +Allen's death appeared. + +The winter passed without any apparent movement on the part of the +executors looking to the discovery of Mrs. Allen's heirs. Young Dewey +came up from New York every few weeks, to hold business interviews with +his uncle and Squire Floyd, touching the mill-extension which was +fully determined upon; Judge Bigelow agreeing to invest twenty thousand +dollars, and the nephew ten thousand. All these matters were talked of +in the beginning, freely, before Wallingford, who still had his office +with his old preceptor, and shared in his business. After a while, he +noticed a growing reserve on the part of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, +when he was by, touching their private affairs; and then they ceased +entirely all reference thereto. + +Dewey came up as frequently as usual, but avoided any remark in relation +to business while in the presence of Wallingford. During his stay in +S----, the Judge spent but little time at the office; being, for the +most part, at the mill with his nephew and the Squire. + +In the spring, a large force of men was set to work on the extension of +Squire Floyd's mill; and as Judge Bigelow had become largely interested +in the new enterprise, he gave a great deal more attention to what was +going on in that direction, than to the business of his office, the +heaviest part of which devolved upon Mr. Wallingford. Still, no steps +were taken to discover the heirs of Mrs. Allen. Once or twice Mr. +Wallingford had approached the subject, but the Judge made no response. +At last, he put the question direct, as to what had been done. The Judge +seemed a little annoyed; but said, in a hurried way that was unusual +with him, + +"I must, and will attend to this matter immediately. I have had so much +on my mind that it has been neglected." + +But the spring months passed--summer glided by--and still there was +no advertisement for heirs, nor any steps taken, so far as Wallingford +could learn, to ascertain their existence. + +Mrs. Montgomery still occupied the old mansion, waiting patiently the +issue whatever it might be. Her health, I regretted to find, was not +firm. She suffered a great deal from nervous debility; and I saw, +plainly, that she had failed considerably during the past few months. +Blanche, on the contrary, after recovering from the illness which +followed immediately on her arrival in S----, had continued in excellent +health; and was growing daily more matured and womanly both as to mental +development and personal bearing. + +The mill improvements went on all summer, exciting no little interest +in our town, and occasioning no small amount of talk and speculation. +It was some time in the fall of that year, that I was permitted to hear +this brief conversation between a couple of townsmen. Mr. A----had made +some query as to the source of all the money expended on the new mill of +Squire Floyd, which was now standing forth, under roof, in most +imposing proportions, compared with the old works. Mr. B----shrugged his +shoulders, and replied, + +"Floyd and the Judge are joint executors of old Allen's estate, you +know." + +"What does that signify?" inquired Mr. A----. + +"It may signify a great deal. They have trust funds in their possession +to a large amount, I am told." + +"They are both honorable men, and would not violate their trust," said +A----. + +"I will not gainsay that," answered Mr. B----. "Still, they may use +these funds temporarily, and wrong no one." + +Nothing more was said in my presence, but I turned their remarks over +and over again, feeling less satisfied the more I pondered them. A day +or two afterwards I met Mr. Wallingford, and said to him, + +"How comes on the search for the heirs of the Allen estate?" + +The question caused him to look grave. + +"No progress has been made, so far as I can learn," he answered. + +"Isn't this indifference on the part of the executors a little +extraordinary?" I remarked. + +"I must confess that I do not understand it," said the young lawyer. + +"There is personal, as well as real estate?" + +"Yes. Stocks worth twenty thousand dollars." + +"I have heard it suggested, that trust funds in the case are going into +Squire Floyd's mill." + +Wallingford started at the suggestion, and looked for some moments +intently in my face; then dropped his eyes, and stood lost in thought a +good while. + +"Where did you hear the suggestion?" he at length inquired. + +I repeated the conversation just mentioned, and named the individuals +with whom it had occurred. + +"And now, Henry," said I, "put this hint, and the singular neglect of +the executors to search for the heirs to the Allen property, together, +and tell me how the matter shapes itself in your mind. We speak +confidentially with each other, of course." + +"I don't just like the appearance of it, that is all I can say, Doctor," +he replied in a half absent manner. + +"As you represent the interests of Mrs. Montgomery," said I, "is it not +your duty to look a little closer into this matter?" + +"It is; and I shall give it immediate attention." + +He did so, and to his surprise, found that all the bank stock had been +sold, and transferred. It was now plain to him where at least a part +of the funds being so liberally expended on the mill property of Squire +Floyd came from. On venturing to make some inquiries of Judge Bigelow +bearing on the subject, that individual showed an unusual degree of +irritation, and intimated, in terms not to be misunderstood, that he +thought himself competent to manage any business he might undertake, and +did not feel disposed to tolerate any intermeddling. + +From that time, Wallingford saw that a separation from his old preceptor +was inevitable; and he so shaped events, that in less than three months +he made the separation easy and natural, and took an office to himself +alone. + +Still there was no movement on the part of the executors in regard +to the valuable estate in their hands. Summer and fall passed, and +Christmas saw the splendid improvements of Squire Floyd completed, +and the new mill in operation, under the vigorous power of steam. The +product thus secured was almost fabulous in the eyes of the half asleep +and awake people of S----, many of whom could hardly imagine people +enough in the country to consume the miles of cloth that came streaming +out from the rattling looms. And yet, we were informed, that more than +quadruple this product could be sold by the extensive house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co.; and that all that stood in the way of creating a +magnificent fortune out of cotton bales, was the lack of productive +facilities. + +During this winter I saw more than usual of Mrs. Dewey. She came up +from New York with her nurse and child, a babe not quite a year old, and +spent over six weeks with her parents. She had lost, in the two years +which had passed since her marriage, nearly all those beautiful traits +of character which made her once so charming. Fashionable city life +seemed to have spoiled her altogether. Her mind had not grown in the +right direction. She had wholly abandoned that tasteful reading through +which intellectual refinement comes; and to all appearance, no longer +cared for anything beyond the mere sensuous. Nothing in S----had +any interest for her; and she scarcely took the pains to conceal her +contempt for certain sincere and worthy people, who felt called upon, +for the sake of her parents, to show her some attention. She was not +happy, of course. When in repose; I noticed a discontented look on her +face. Her eyes had lost that clear, innocent, almost child-like beauty +of expression, that once made you gaze into them; and now had a cold, +absent, or eagerly longing expression, as if her thought were straining +itself forward towards some coveted good. + +Her conversation was almost always within the range of New York +fashionable themes; and barren of any food upon which the mind could +grow. There was not even the pretence of affection between her and her +husband. The fairest specimen of well bred indifference I had yet seen +was exhibited in their conduct to each other. Their babe did not seem +to be a matter of much account either. Delia took no personal care of it +whatever--leaving all this to the nurse. + +It happened one day that I was called in to see the child. I found it +suffering from some of the ill effects of difficult dentition, and +did what the case required. There was an old friend of Delia's at the +house--a young lady who had been much attached to her, and who still +retained a degree of her old friendship. They were talking together in +a pleasant, familiar way, when I came down stairs from my visit to the +sick child--the mother had not shown sufficient interest in the little +sufferer to attend me to the nurse's room. A word or two of almost +careless inquiry was made;--I had scarcely answered the mother's +queries, when her friend said, in a laughing way, looking from the +window at the same time, + +"There, Delia! see what you escaped." + +I turned my eyes in the same direction, and saw Mr. Wallingford walking +past, on the opposite side of the street, with his head bent down. His +step was slow, but firm, and his air and carriage manly. + +Delia shrugged her shoulders, and drew up the corners of her lips. There +was an expression very much like contempt on her face.--But she did +not make any reply. I saw this expression gradually fade away, and her +countenance grow sober. Her friend did not pursue the banter, and the +subject dropped. + +What she had escaped! It was a dark day in the calendar of her life, +when she made that escape; and I think there must have been times when +a consciousness of this fact pressed upon her soul like a suffocating +nightmare. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +Spring opened again, and the days glided swiftly on towards summer; and +yet, so far as the movements of the executors could be traced, nothing +had been done in the work of searching for the heirs. One day, early in +June, Mrs. Montgomery sent for Mr. Wallingford. On attending her, she +placed in his hands a communication which she had just received. It was +from the executors, giving notice in a kind and respectful way, that, +for the interest of the legal heirs, and their own security, it would be +necessary for them to assume full possession of the mansion and grounds, +unless she felt willing to pay a rental that was equivalent to the +interest on their value. + +"I have expected this," said the lady; "and, so far from considering +myself aggrieved, feel grateful that a quiet residence here has been so +long accorded me." + +"You will remove?" + +"There is no other course left. My income will not justify a rent of +some three thousand dollars." + +"As the property is unproductive, no such rent as that will be +required." + +"The letter says, 'a rental equivalent to the interest on their value.'" + +"I will see Judge Bigelow this morning, and ascertain precisely what +views are held in regard to this matter." + +They were sitting near one of the parlor windows that looked out upon +the portion of the grounds that sloped away towards the stream, that +threw its white folds of water from one rocky ledge to another +in graceful undulations. As Mr. Wallingford ceased speaking, Mrs. +Montgomery turned her head quickly and looked out. The sound of voices +had reached her ears. Three men had entered the grounds, and were +passing the window at a short distance. + +"Who are they?" asked Mr. Wallingford. Then, answering his own question, +he said, "Oh, I see; Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph Dewey, his +son-in-law." + +The three men, after going a few hundred rods in the direction of the +stream, turned and stood for some minutes looking at the house, +and talking earnestly. Dewey appeared to have the most to say, and +gesticulated quite freely. Then they moved on to that portion of the +stream where the water went gliding down the mimic rapids, and remained +there for a considerable time. It was plain that some scheme was in +their heads, for they took measurement by pacing off the grounds in +various directions; drew together in close conference at times; then +separated, each making some examination for himself; and again stood in +close deliberation. At last, as if satisfied with their investigations, +they returned by way of the mansion, and passed out without calling. + +"Put that and that together, and there is a meaning in this procedure +beyond the simple rental of the place," said Wallingford. + +"What is your inference?" asked Mrs. Montgomery. + +"I have made none as yet," he replied. "But I will see Judge Bigelow, +and have some talk with him. Of course, I can have nothing to say, +adverse to a requirement of rent. Executors are responsible for the +right use of property in their hands, and must see that it produces an +interest, if in a position to pay anything. You do not, of course, wish +to occupy the whole of these grounds. It may be, that the use of the +house, garden, lawn, and appurtenances, may be secured at a moderate +rent. If so, do you wish to remain?" + +"I would prefer remaining here, if the rent is within a certain sum." + +"Say three hundred dollars?" + +"Yes. If not beyond that sum, I will remain," replied Mrs. Montgomery. + +The interview which Mr. Wallingford held with Judge Bigelow a few hours +afterwards, was not satisfactory. The proposition to let Mrs. Montgomery +and her daughter occupy the house, separate from the extensive grounds, +would not be entertained. It finally came out, that an offer to purchase +had been made by the firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., with a view to +the erection of extensive mills, and that the executors were going +to ask the Court for power to sell, as a handsome sum could now be +obtained. It further came out, that in case this power was granted, +Mr. Dewey was to reside in S----, to superintend the erection of these +mills, and afterwards to join Squire Floyd in the management of both +establishments--a consolidation of interests between the mercantile and +manufacturing branches being about to take place. The old mansion was +to undergo a thorough revision, and become the domicile of the resident +partner. + +With these plans in view, the executors insisted upon the removal of +Mrs. Montgomery; and notice as to time was given, which included three +months. Formal application was made to the Court having power in the +case, for authority to sell and re-invest. The reasons for so doing were +set forth in detail, and involved plausible arguments in favor of the +heirs whenever they should be found. + +Mr. Wallingford had personal reasons for not wishing to oppose this +application. The executors had been his friends from boyhood. Especially +towards Judge Bigelow did he entertain sentiments of deep gratitude +for his many favors and kindnesses. But his duty, as counsel to Mrs. +Montgomery, left him no alternative. She was heir prospective to this +property, and he did not believe that the plans in view were best for +her interests, in case no other heir was found. So, he went before the +Court, and opposed the prayer of the executors. In doing so, he gained +their ill-will, but did not succeed in preventing a decree authorizing a +sale of the property. Dewey was present, a deeply interested listener to +the arguments that were advanced on both sides. After the decision, as +Wallingford was passing from the court-room, Dewey, who stood near the +door, talking with a gentleman, said, loud enough for the young lawyer +to hear him. + +"The hound! He got on the wrong scent that time!" + +A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he +repressed the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any intimation +that the offensive remark had reached him. + +As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was made, +Mrs. Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At first she +seemed inclined to favor a return to England; but after repeated +conferences with Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to remain in +this country. + +Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since +Mrs. Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being +from cloudland. The friendly relation established between us in the +beginning, had continued, growing more and more intimate. My good +Constance found in her a woman after her own heart. + +"The days I spend at the Allen House," she would often say to me, "are +days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure and +tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her lifts me +above the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, and fills my +mind with longings after those higher things into which all must rise +before that peace comes to the soul which passeth all understanding. +I return home from these interviews, happier in mind, and stronger for +life's duties. I do not know any term that so clearly expresses my idea +of this lady, as Christian philosopher." + +Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also were +times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed a certain +elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving sphere about +her after one of these pleasant seasons. + +The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much as +they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if they +were her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her eighth year, +almost lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came without taking her +home with her, and often kept her for two or three days at a time. + +Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; yet +her manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. She did +not seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, nor of the +admiration her presence always extorted. No one could meet her, as +a stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from ordinary +contact--a being of superior mould with whom familiarity was +presumption. + +The companion of such a mother, who had with tender solicitude, from +childhood upwards, guarded all the avenues of her mind, lest false +principles or false views of things should find entrance; and as +carefully selected her mental food, in order that there might be health +of mind as well as health of body--it was not surprising to find about +her a solidity and strength of character, that showed itself beneath the +sweet grace of her external life, whenever occasion for their exhibition +arose. From her mother she had imbibed a deep religious sentiment; but +this did not manifest itself so much in language, as in dutiful acts. +I had often occasion to notice, how, almost instinctively, she referred +all things to a superintending Providence; and looked into the future, +veiled as it is to all eyes, with a confidence that every thing would +come out right, beautiful to contemplate. What she meant by right, +was something more than is usually included in the words; for she had +learned from her wise teacher, that God's providence disposes the things +of this world for every individual in a way that serves best his eternal +interests; therefore, what was best in this sense, could not fail to be +right. + +To our deep regret, Mrs. Montgomery decided to change the place of her +residence from S----to Boston. All the reasons that led her to this +decision, I was not able to discover. Her life at the Allen House had +been quite secluded. She had been courteous to all the people with whom +she was brought into any degree of contact, and had reciprocated all +friendly visits; but there was a certain distance between her and them, +that it seemed impossible for either to pass over. One of my inferences +was, that, in removing from the retired old mansion, and taking a modern +house, she would stand out more prominently before all eyes than was +agreeable to her. Be this as it may, she was in earnest about removing +to Boston. + +I happened to be present when the announcement of this purposed removal +was made to Mr. Wallingford. He had called in, during one of my visits +to Mrs. Montgomery, for the transaction of some business. + +"To Boston?" he said, in a tone of surprise, and, I thought, +disappointment. At the same time I saw his eyes turned towards Blanche. + +"Yes; I think it will be best," she replied. "If I have any interests +here, I feel that they are safe in your hands, Mr. Wallingford." + +She leaned a little towards him, and I thought her voice had in it a +softer tone than usual. Her eyes looked steadily into his face. + +"I will do all that is right, madam." He spoke a little lower than +usual. + +"And the right is always the best in any case, Mr. Wallingford," said +she with feeling. + +"How soon do you think of removing?" the young man inquired. + +"In three or four weeks." + +"So soon." + +Again I noticed that his eyes wandered towards Blanche, who sat close to +her mother, with her face bent down and turned partly away. + +"There is no reason why we should linger in S----, after all things are +ready for removal. It would have suited my feelings and habits of mind +to have remained here; but as this cannot be, I prefer going to Boston +on more than one account." + +"You will leave behind you many sincere friends," said Wallingford. + +There was more feeling in his voice than usually showed itself; and I +again observed that Mrs. Montgomery, in responding to the remark, fixed +her eyes upon him steadily, and with, I thought, a look of more than +usual interest. + +The few weeks of preparation glided swiftly away, and then we parted +from friends who had won their way into our own hearts; and whose memory +would ever be to us like the fragrance of holy incense. I learned from +Mrs. Montgomery, before she left us, during a more confidential talk +than usual, that her income was comparatively small, and that the +chief part of this, a pension from Government in acknowledgment of her +husband's services, would cease at her death. There was a momentary +failure in her voice as she said this, and her eyes turned with the +instinct of love towards Blanche. + +At her desire, Mr. Wallingford attended them to Boston, and remained +away for three or four days. He then returned to S----, bringing with +him kind words from the absent ones. The old routine of life went on +again, each of us taking up the daily duty; yet I think there was not +one of the favored few who had known Mrs. Montgomery and her daughter +intimately, that was not stronger to do right in every trial for the +memory of these true-hearted strangers--no, friends! + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +It was in October when Mrs. Montgomery, after a residence of three years +in the Allen House, went from among us. Old "Aunty," and another +colored servant who had lived with Mrs. Allen, remained in charge of the +mansion. There was, of course, no removal of furniture, as that belonged +to the estate. Mrs. Montgomery had brought with her three servants from +England, a coachman, footman, and maid. The footman was sent back after +he had been a year in the country; but the coachman and maid still lived +with her, and accompanied her to Boston. + +The large schemes of men ambitious for gain, will not suffer them to +linger by the way. Ralph Dewey had set his mind on getting possession, +jointly with others, of the valuable Allen property; and as the Court +had granted a decree of sale, he urged upon his father-in-law and uncle +an early day for its consummation. They were in heart, honorable men, +but they had embarked in grand enterprises with at least one dishonest +compeer, and were carried forward by an impulse which they had not the +courage or force of character to resist. They thought that spring would +be the best time to offer the property for sale; but Dewey urged the +fall as more consonant with their views, and so the sale was fixed for +the first day of November. Notice was given in the country papers, +and Dewey engaged to see that the proposed sale was duly advertised in +Boston and New York. He managed, however, to omit that part of his duty. + +On the day of sale, quite a company of curious people assembled at the +Allen House, but when the property was offered, only a single bid was +offered. That came from Dewey, as the representative of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee & Co., and it was awarded to them for the sum of thirty-five +thousand dollars, a little more than half its real value. + +From that time until spring opened, all remained quiet. Then began the +busy hum of preparation, and great things for our town foreshadowed +themselves. A hundred men went to work on the site chosen for a new +mill, digging, blasting, and hauling; while carpenters and masons +were busy in and around the old mansion, with a view to its thorough +renovation, as the future residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. That gentleman +was on the ground, moving about with a self-sufficient air, and giving +his orders in a tone of authority that most of the work people felt to +be offensive. + +The antiquated furniture in the Allen House, rich though it was in style +and finish, would not suit our prospective millionaire, and it was all +sent to auction. From the auctioneers, it was scattered among the town's +people, who obtained some rare bargains. An old French secretary came +into my possession, at the cost of ten dollars--the original owner could +not have paid less than a hundred. It was curiously inlaid with satin +wood, and rich in quaint carvings. There seemed to be no end to the +discoveries I was continually making among its intricate series of +drawers, pigeon holes, slides, and hidden receptacles. But some one +had preceded me in the examination, and had removed all the papers and +documents it contained. It flashed across my mind, as I explored the +mazes of this old piece of furniture, that it might contain, in some +secret drawer, another will. This thought caused the blood to leap along +my veins, my cheeks to burn, and my hands to tremble. I renewed the +examination, at first hurriedly; then with order and deliberation, +taking out each drawer, and feeling carefully all around the cavity +left by its removal, in the hope of touching some hidden spring. But the +search was fruitless. One drawer perplexed me considerably. I could not +pull it clear out, nor get access above or below to see how closely +the various partitions and compartments came up to its sides, top, and +bottom. After working with it for some time, I gave up the search, and +my enthusiasm in this direction soon died out. I smiled to myself +many times afterwards, in thinking of the idle fancy which for a time +possessed me. + +In May, the furnishing of the renovated house began. This took nearly +a month. Every thing was brought from New York. Car loads of enormous +boxes, bales, and articles not made up into packages, were constantly +arriving at the depot, and being conveyed to the Allen House--the +designation which the property retains even to this day. The furniture +was of the richest kind--the carpets, curtains, and mirrors, princely in +elegance. When all was ready for the proud owners to come in and enjoy +their splendid home, it was thrown open for examination and admiration. +All S----went to see the show, and wander in dreamy amazement through +parlors, halls, and chambers. I went with the rest. The change seemed +like the work of magic. I could with difficulty make out the old +landmarks. The spacious rooms, newly painted and decked out in +rich, modern furniture, looked still more spacious. In place of the +whitewashed ceilings and dingy papered walls, graceful frescoes +spread their light figures, entrancing the eyes with their marvelous +semblances. The great hall received you with a statelier formality than +before; for it, too, had received also its gift of painting, and its +golden broideries. As you passed from room to room, you said--"This is +the palace of a prince--not the abode of a citizen." + +The grounds around the mansion had been subject to as thorough a +renovation as the mansion itself. The old gate had given place to one of +larger proportions, and more imposing design. A new carriage-road swept +away in a grander curve from the gate to the dwelling. Substantial +stone-stabling had been torn down in order to erect a fanciful +carriage-house, built in imitation of a Swiss cottage; which, from its +singular want of harmony with the principal buildings, stood forth a +perpetual commentary upon the false taste of the upstart owner. + +I hardly think that either Mr. Dewey or his wife would have been much +flattered by the general tone of remark that ran through the curious +crowds that lingered in the elegant rooms, or inspected the improvements +outside. Nobody liked him; and as for his wife, fashionable associations +had so spoiled her, that not a single old friend retained either +affection or respect. It was sad to think that three years of a false +life could so entirely obliterate the good qualities that once blossomed +in her soul with such a sweet promise of golden fruitage. + +Early in June, the family of Mr. Dewey took possession of their new +home, and the occasion was celebrated by a splendid entertainment, +the cost of which, common rumor said, was over two thousand dollars. +We--Constance and I--were among the invited guests. It was a festive +scene, brilliant and extravagant beyond anything we had ever witnessed, +and quite bewildering to minds like ours. Mrs. Dewey was dressed like a +queen, and radiant in pearls and diamonds. I questioned her good taste +in this, as hostess; and think she knew better--but the temptation to +astonish the good people of S----was too strong to be resisted. + +After the curtain fell on this brilliant spectacle, Mrs. Dewey assumed a +stately air, showing, on all occasions, a conscious superiority that +was offensive to our really best people. There are in all communities +a class who toady to the rich; and we had a few of these in S----. +They flattered the Deweys, and basked in the sunshine of their inflated +grandeur. + +I was not one towards whom Mrs. Dewey put on superior airs. My +profession brought me into a kind of relation to her that set aside +all pretence. Very soon after her removal to S----, my services were +required in the family, one of her two children having been attacked +with measles. On the occasion of my first call, I referred, naturally, +to the fact of her removal from New York, and asked how she liked the +change. + +"I don't like it all, Doctor," she replied, in a dissatisfied tone. + +"Could heart desire more of elegance and comfort than you possess?" I +glanced around the richly decorated apartment in which we were seated. + +"Gilded misery, Doctor!" She emphasized her words. + +I looked at her without speaking. She understood my expression of +surprise. + +"I need not tell you, Doctor, that a fine house and fine furniture are +not everything in this world." + +I thought her waking up to a better state of mind, through the +irrepressible yearnings of a soul that could find no sustenance amid the +husks of this outer life. + +"They go but a little way towards making up the aggregate of human +happiness," said I. + +"All well enough in their place. But, to my thinking, sadly out of place +here. We must have society, Doctor." + +"True." My voice was a little rough. I had mistaken her. + +"But there is no society here!" And she tossed her head a little +contemptuously. + +"Not much fashionable society I will grant you, Delia." + +She pursed up her lips and looked disagreeable. + +"I shall die of ennui before six months. What am I to do with myself?" + +"Act like a true woman," said I, firmly. + +She lifted her eyes suddenly to my face as if I had presumed. + +"Do your duty as a wife and mother," I added, "and there will be no +danger of your dying with ennui." + +"You speak as if I were derelict in this matter." + +She drew herself up with some dignity of manner. + +"I merely prescribed a remedy for a disease from which you are +suffering," said I, calmly. "Thousands of women scattered all over the +land are martyrs to this disease; and there is only one remedy--that +which I offer to you, Delia." + +I think she saw, from my manner, that it would be useless to quarrel +with me. I was so much in earnest that truth came to my lips in any +attempt at utterance. + +"What would you have me do, Doctor?" There was a petty fretfulness in +her voice. "Turn cook or nursery-maid?" + +"Yes, rather than sit idle, and let your restless mind fret itself for +want of useful employment into unhappiness." + +"I cannot take your prescription in that crude form," she replied, with +more seriousness than I had expected. + +"It is not requisite to a cure," said I. "Only let your thought and +purpose fall into the sphere of home. Think of your husband as one to be +made happier by your personal control of such household matters as touch +his comfort; of your babes as tender, precious things, blessed by your +sleepless care, or hurt by your neglect; of your domestics, as requiring +orderly supervision, lest they bring discord into your home, or waste +your substance. Every household, Delia, is a little government, and the +governor must be as watchful over all its concerns as the governor of a +state. Take, then, the reins of office firmly into your hands, dispose +of everything according to the best of your judgment, and require +orderly obedience from every subject. But act wisely and kindly. Do +this, my young friend, and you will not be troubled with the fashionable +complaint--ennui." + +"That is, sink down into a mere housekeeper," she remarked; "weigh out +the flour, count the eggs, fill the sugar bowls, and grow learned in +cookery-books. I think I see myself wandering about from cellar to +garret, jingling a great bunch of keys, prying into rubbish-corners, and +scolding lazy cooks and idle chambermaids!" + +She laughed a short, artificial laugh, and then added-- + +"Is that the picture of what you mean, Doctor?" + +"It is the picture of a happier woman than you are, Delia," said I, +seriously. + +The suggestion seemed to startle her. + +"You speak very confidently, Doctor." + +"With the confidence of one who makes diseases and their cure his study. +I know something of the human soul as well as the human body, and of the +maladies to which both are subjected. A cure is hopeless in either case, +unless the patient will accept the remedy. Pain of body is the indicator +of disease, and gives warning that an enemy to life has found a +lodgment; pain of mind is the same phenomenon, only showing itself in a +higher sphere, and for the same purpose. If you are unhappy, surrounded +by all this elegance, and with the means of gratifying every orderly +wish, it shows that an enemy to your soul has entered through some +unguarded gateway. You cannot get rid of this enemy by any change +of place, or by any new associations. Society will not help you. The +excitement of shows; gauds, glitter, pageants; the brief triumphs gained +in fashionable tournaments, will not expel this foe of your higher and +nobler life, but only veil, for brief seasons, his presence from your +consciousness. When these are past, and you retire into yourself, then +comes back the pain, the languor, the excessive weariness. Is it not so, +Delia? Is not this your sad experience?" + +I paused. Her eyes had fallen to the floor. She sat very still, like one +who was thinking deeply. + +"The plodding housekeeper, whose picture you drew just now--humble, +even mean in your regard though she be--sinks to peaceful sleep when her +tasks are done, and rises refreshed at coming dawn. If she is happier +than your fine lady, whose dainty hands cannot bear the soil of these +common things, why? Ponder this subject, Delia. It concerns you deeply. +It is the happiest state in life that we all strive to gain; but you may +lay it up in your heart as immutable truth, that happiness never comes +to any one, except through a useful employment of all the powers which +God has given to us. The idle are the most miserable--and none are more +miserable in their ever-recurring ennuied hours, than your fashionable +idlers. We see them only in their holiday attire, tricked out for show, +and radiant in reflected smiles. Alas! If we could go back with them to +their homes, and sit beside them, unseen, in their lonely hours, would +not pity fill our hearts? My dear young friend! Turn your feet aside +from this way--it is the path that leads to unutterable wretchedness." + +The earnestness of my manner added force to what I said, and constrained +at least a momentary conviction. + +"You speak strongly, Doctor," she said, with the air of one who could +not look aside from an unpleasant truth. + +"Not too strongly, Delia. Is it not as I have said? Are not your mere +society-ladies too often miserable at home?" + +She sighed heavily, as if unpleasant images were forcing themselves upon +her mind. I felt that I might follow up the impression I had made, and +resumed: + +"There was a time, Delia--and it lies only three or four short years +backward on your path of life--when I read in your opening mind a +promise of higher things than have yet been attained--you must pardon +the freedom of an old but true friend. A time when thought, taste, +feeling were all building for themselves a habitation, the stones +whereof were truths, and the decorations within and without pure and +good affections. All this"--I glanced at the rich furniture, mirrors, +and curtains--"is poor and mean to that dwelling place of the soul, the +foundations for which you once commenced laying. Are you happier now +than then? Have the half bewildering experiences through which you have +passed satisfied you that you are in the right way? That life's highest +blessings are to be found in these pageantries? Think, think, my dear +young friend! Look inwards. Search into your heart, and try the quality +of its motives. Examine the foundation upon which you are building, and +if it is sand, in heaven's name stop, and look for solid earth on which +to place the corner stone of your temple of happiness." + +"You bewilder me, Doctor," she said, in reply to this. "I can't think, +I can't look inwards. If I am building on a sandy foundation, God help +me!--for I cannot turn back to search for the solid earth of which you +speak." + +"But--" + +She raised her hand and said, + +"Spare me, Doctor. I know you are truthful and sincere--a friend who +may be trusted--but you cannot see as I see, nor know as I know. I have +chosen my way, and must walk in it, even to the end, let it terminate as +it will. I had once a dream of other things--a sweet, entrancing dream +while it lasted--but to me it can never be more than a dream. There +are quiet, secluded, peaceful ways in life, and happy are they who are +content to walk in them. But they are not for my feet, and I do not envy +those who hide themselves in tranquil valleys, or linger on the distant +hill-slopes. The crowd, the hum, the shock of social life for me!" + +"But this you cannot have in S----. And is it not the part of a wise +woman--" + +"Again, Doctor, let me beg of you to spare me." she said, lifting her +hands, and turning her face partly away. "I only half comprehend you, +and am hurt and disturbed by your well-meant suggestions. I am not a +wise woman, in your sense of the word, and cannot take your admonitions +to heart. Let us talk of something else." + +And she changed the subject, as well as her whole manner and expression +of countenance, with a promptness that surprised me; showing the +existence of will and self-control that in a right direction would have +given her large power for good. + +It was the first and last time I ventured to speak with her so freely. +Always afterwards, when we met, there was an impression of uneasiness +on her part, as if she had an unpleasant remembrance, or feared that I +would venture upon some disagreeable theme. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Steadily, under the busy hands of hundreds of workmen, the new buildings +arose, stretching their far lengths along, and towering up, story after +story. Steam, in addition to water power, was contemplated here also, +for the looms and spindles to be driven were nearly twice the number +contained in the other mill. + +Disappointments and vexatious delays nearly always attend large building +operations, and the present case formed no exception. The time within +which everything was to be completed, and the mill to go into operation, +was one year. Two years elapsed before the first bale of goods came +through its ample doors, ready for market. + +Of course there was a large expenditure of money in S----, and this was +a great thing for our town. Property rose in value, houses were built, +and the whole community felt that a new era had dawned--an era of growth +and prosperity. Among other signs of advancement, was the establishment +of a new Bank. The "Clinton Bank" it was called. The charter had been +obtained through the influence of Judge Bigelow, who had several warm +personal friends in the Legislature. There was not a great deal of loose +money in S----to flow easily into bank stocks; but for all that the +shares were soon taken, and all the provisions of the charter complied +with. Judge Bigelow subscribed freely; so did Squire Floyd and Mr. +Dewey. Other townsmen, to the number of twenty or thirty, put down their +names for a few shares. It was from New York, however, that the largest +subscriptions came; and it was New York shareholders, voting by proxy, +who elected the Board of Directors, and determined the choice of +officers. Judge Bigelow was elected President, and a Mr. Joshua King, +from New York, Cashier. The tellers and book-keepers were selected from +among our own people. + +The Clinton Bank and the new mills went into operation about the same +time. Years of prosperity followed. Money was plenty in our town, and +everybody was growing better off. Dewey was still the manufacturing +partner of the large house in New York, whose demand for goods it seemed +impossible to satisfy. He was a great man in S----. People spoke of +him as possessing vast mental as well as money resources; as having +expansive views of trade and finance; as being a man of extraordinary +ability. I listened to all these things as I passed around among our +citizens, plodding along in my profession, and managing to grow just a +little better off each year; and wondered within myself if I were really +mistaken in the man--if there was a solid basis of right judgment below +all this splendid seeming. + +And what of our friend Wallingford, during those busy years? Like +myself, he moved so quietly through his round of professional duties, +as to attract little attention. But he had been growing in all this +time--growing in mental stature; and growing in the confidence of all +just men. Judge Bigelow's interest in the mills, and in the new Bank, +drew his attention so much away from his law cases, that clients began +to grow dissatisfied, and this threw a great deal of excellent business +into the hands of Wallingford, who, if not always successful in his +cases, so managed them as to retain the confidence and good will of all +who employed him. He got the character in our town of a safe adviser. If +a man had a difficulty with a neighbor, and talked of going to law with +him, in all probability some one would say-- + +"Go to Mr. Wallingford; he will tell you, on the spot, if there is any +chance for you in Court." + +And he bore this character justly. A thorn in the side he had proved +to the three great mill owners, Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph +Dewey. The two former failed entirely, in his view, as to the right +steps for discovering the heirs to the large property in their hands, +all of which had been changed from its original position; while the +latter showed ill-feeling whenever Wallingford, as he continued to do, +at stated intervals, filed interrogatories, and required answers as to +the condition of the trust, and the prospects of finding heirs. + +Ten years had elapsed since the discovery of Mr. Allen's will, and yet +no heirs had presented themselves. And now Mr. Wallingford took formal +issue in the case, and demanded the property for his client, Mrs. +Montgomery, who was still living in Boston with her daughter, in a +retired way. Nearly one-half of her income had been cut off, and her +circumstances were, in consequence, greatly reduced. Her health was +feeble, having steadily declined since her removal from S----. An +occasional letter passed between her and my wife; and it was in this way +that I learned of her health and condition. How free was all she wrote +from repining or despondency--how full of Christian faith, hope, and +patience! You could not read one of her letters without growing stronger +for the right--without seeing the world as through a reversed telescope. + +A time was fixed for hearing the case, which, now that it assumed this +important shape, excited great interest among the people of S----. When +the matter came fairly into court, Mr. Wallingford presented his clearly +arranged documentary evidence, in proof of Mrs. Montgomery's identity +as the sister of Captain Allen, and claimed the property as hers. He +covered, in anticipation, every possible ground of objection; bringing +forward, at the same time, such an array of precedents and decisions +bearing upon the case, that it was clear to every one on which side the +decision would lie. + +At this important juncture a letter, post-marked in New York on the day +before, was offered in court, and a demand, based on its contents, made +for a stay of proceedings. It came from the Spanish Consul, and was +addressed to Abel Bigelow and John Floyd, executors of the late Captain +Allen, and notified them that he had just received letters from San Juan +De Porto Rico, containing information as to the existence of an heir to +the estate in the person of a boy named Leon Garcia, nephew to the late +Mrs. Allen. The case was immediately laid over until the next term of +court. + +In the meantime, steps were promptly taken to ascertain the truth of +this assumption. An agent was sent out to the island of Porto Rico, who +brought back all the proofs needed to establish the claim, and also the +lad himself, who was represented to be in his fourteenth year. He was +a coarse, wicked-looking boy, who, it was plain, had not yet fully +awakened to a realizing sense of the good fortune that awaited him. + +A resolute opposition was made by Wallingford, but all the evidence +adduced to prove Leon Garcia's relationship to Mrs. Allen was too +clear, and so the court dismissed the case, and appointed Ralph Dewey +as guardian to the boy, who was immediately placed at school in a +neighboring town. + +So ended this long season of suspense. Immediately on the decision +of the case, Wallingford went to Boston to see Mrs. Montgomery, and +remained absent nearly a week. I saw him soon after his return. + +"How did she bear this final dashing of her hopes to the earth?" I +asked. + +"As any one who knew her well might have expected," he answered, with so +little apparent feeling that I thought him indifferent. + +"As a Christian philosopher," said I. + +"You make use of exactly the right words," he remarked. "Yes, as a +Christian philosopher. As one who thinks and reasons as well as feels. I +have seen a great many so-called religious people in my time. People who +had much to say about their-spiritual experiences and hopes of heaven. +But never one who so made obedience to the strict law of right, in all +its plain, common-sense interpretations, a matter of common duty. I +do not believe that for anything this world could offer her, Mrs. +Montgomery would swerve a hair's breadth from justice. I have been in +the position to see her tempted; have, myself, been the tempter over and +over again during the ten years in which I represented her claims to the +Allen estate; but her principles were immovable as the hills. Once, I +shall never forget the incident--I pressed her to adopt a certain course +of procedure, involving a law quibble, in order to get possession of the +property. She looked at me for a moment or two, with a flushing face. +Then her countenance grew serene, almost heavenly, and she gave me this +memorable reply--'Mr. Wallingford, I have a richer estate than this +in expectancy, and cannot mar the title.' And she has not marred it, +Doctor." + +"How did her daughter receive the news?" I inquired. I thought he turned +his face a little away, as he answered. + +"Not so well as her mother." I knew his voice was lower. "When I +announced the fact that the claims of young Garcia had been admitted +by the court, tears sprung to her eyes, and a shadow fell upon her +countenance such as I have never seen there before." + +"She is younger and less disciplined," said I. + +"Few at her age," he answered, "are so well disciplined" + +"Will they still remain in Boston?" I asked. + +"Yes, for the present," he answered, and we parted. A few months after +this, my wife said to me one day, + +"Did you hear that Mr. Wallingford had bought the pretty little cottage +on Cedar Lane, where Jacob Homer lived?" + +"Is that true?" + +"It is said so. In fact, I heard it from Jane Homer, and that is pretty +good authority." + +"Is he going to live there with his mother?" + +"Jane did not know. Her husband went behind hand the year he built +the cottage, and never was able to get up even with the world. So +they determined to sell their place, pay off their debts, and find +contentment in a rented house. Mr. Homer said something to Mr. +Wallingford on the subject, and he offered to buy the property at a fair +price." + +A few days afterwards, in passing along Cedar Lane, I noticed a +carpenter at work in the pretty cottage above referred to; and also a +gardener who was trimming the shrubbery. + +Good morning, William, "I spoke to the gardener with whom I was well +acquainted. This is a nice cozy place." + +"Indeed and it is, Doctor. Mr. Homer took great pride in it." + +"And showed much taste in gardening." + +"You may well say that, Doctor. There isn't a finer shrubbery to any +garden in S----." + +"Is Mr. Wallingford going to live here, or does he intend renting the +cottage?" + +"That's more than I can answer, Doctor. Mr. Wallingford isn't the man, +you know, to talk with everybody about his affairs." + +"True enough, William," said I smiling and passed on. + +"Did you know," said my wife, a few weeks later, "that Mr. Wallingford +was furnishing the cottage on Cedar Lane?" + +"Ah! Is that so?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Dean told me that Jones the cabinet maker had the order, +which was completed, and that the furniture was now going in. +Everything, she says, is plain and neat, but good." + +"Why, what can this mean, Constance? Is our young friend about to +marry?" + +"It has a look that way, I fancy." + +"But who is the bride to be?" I asked. + +"Mrs. Dean thinks it is Florence Williams." + +"A fine girl; but hardly worthy of Henry Wallingford. Besides, he is ten +year her senior," said I. + +"What is the difference in our ages, dear?" Constance turned her fresh +young face to mine--fresh and young still, though more than thirty-five +years had thrown across it their lights and shadows, and laid her head +fondly against my breast. + +I kissed her tenderly, and she answered her own question. + +"Ten years; and you are not so much my senior. I do not see any force +in that objection. Still if I had been commissioned to select a wife for +Mr. Wallingford, I would not have chosen Florence Williams." + +"Her father is well off, and growing richer every day." + +"Worth taking into the account, I suppose, as one of the reasons in +favor of the choice," said my wife. "But I hardly think Wallingford is +the man to let that consideration have much influence." + +There was no mistake about the matter of furnishing Ivy Cottage, as the +place was called. I saw carpets going in on the very next day. All the +shrubbery had been trimmed, the grounds cleared up and put in order, and +many choice flowers planted in borders already rich in floral treasures. + +Curiosity now began to flutter its wings, lift up its head, and look +around sharply. Many arrows had taken their flight towards the heart of +our young bachelor lawyer, but, until now, there had been no evidence +of a wound. What fair maiden had conquered at last? I met him not long +after, walking in the street with Florence Williams. She looked smiling +and happy; and his face was brighter than I had ever seen it. This +confirmed to me the rumor. + +Mrs. Wallingford was not to be approached on the subject. If she knew +of an intended marriage, she feigned ignorance; and affected not to +understand the hints, questions, and surmises of curious neighbors. + +A week or two later, and I missed Wallingford from his office. The lad +in attendance said that he was away from the town, but would return in a +few days. + +"I have a surprise for you," said my wife on that very afternoon. She +had a letter in her hand just received by post. Her whole face was +radiant with pleasure. Drawing a card from the envelope, she held it +before my eyes. I read the names of _Henry Wallingford_ and _Blanche +Montgomery_, and the words, "At home Wednesday evening, June 15th. Ivy +Cottage." + +"Bravo!" I exclaimed, as soon as a momentary bewilderment passed, +showing more than my wonted enthusiasm. "The best match since Hymen +linked our fates together, Constance." + +"May it prove as happy a one!" my wife answered, with a glance of +tenderness. + +"It will, Constance--it will. That is a marriage after my own heart; one +that I have, now and then, dimly foreshadowed in imagination, but never +thought to see." + +"It is over five years since we saw Blanche," remarked Constance. "I +wonder how she looks! If life's sunshine and rain have produced a rich +harvest in her soul, or only abraded the surface, and marred the +sweet beauty that captivated us of old! I wonder how she has borne the +shadowing of earthly prospects--the change from luxurious surroundings!" + +"They have not dimmed the virgin gold; you may be sure of that, +Constance," was my reply to this. + +"At home, Wednesday evening, June fifteenth." + +And this was Tuesday. Only a single day intervened. And yet it seemed +like a week in anticipation, so eager did we grow for the promised +re-union with friends whose memory was in our hearts as the sound of +pleasant music. + +It was eight o'clock, on Wednesday evening, when we entered Ivy Cottage, +our hearts beating with quickened strokes under their burden of pleasant +anticipation. What a queenly woman stood revealed to us, as we entered +the little parlor! I would hardly have known her as the almost shrinking +girl from whom we parted not many years before. How wonderfully she had +developed! Figure, face, air, manner, attitude--all showed the woman +of heart, mind, and purpose. Yet, nothing struck you as masculine; but +rather as exquisitely feminine. It took but one glance at her serene +face, to solve the query as to whether there had been a free gift of +heart as well as hand. My eyes turned next to the pale, thin face of +Mrs. Montgomery, who sat, or half reclined, in a large cushioned chair. +She was looking at her daughter. That expression of blended love and +pride, will it ever cease to be a sweet picture in my memory? All was +right--I saw that in the first instant of time. + +The reception was not a formal one. There was no display of orange +blossoms, airy veils, and glittering jewels--but a simple welcoming of +a few old friends, who had come to heart-congratulations. It was +the happiest bridal reception--always excepting the one in which my +Constance wore the orange wreath--that I had ever seen. Do you inquire +of Wallingford, as to how he looked and seemed? Worthy of the splendid +woman who stood by his side and leaned towards him with such a sweet +assurance. How beautiful it was to see the proud look with which she +turned her eyes upon him, whenever he spoke! It was plain, that to her, +his words had deeper meanings in them, than came to other ears. + +"It is all right, I see." I had drawn a chair close to the one in which +Mrs. Montgomery sat, and was holding in mine the thin, almost shadowy +hand which she had extended. + +"Yes, it is all right, Doctor," she answered, as a smile lit up her pale +face. "All right, and I am numbered among the happiest of mothers. He +is not titled, nor rich, nor noble in the vulgar sense--but titled, and +rich, and noble as God gives rank and wealth. I came to this land of +promise ten years ago, in search of an estate for my child; and I +have found it, at last. Ah, Doctor"--and site glanced upwards as she +spoke--"His ways are not as our ways. And if we will only trust in Him, +He will bring such things to pass, as never entered into the imagination +of our hearts. I did not dream of this man as the husband of my child, +when I gave my business into his care. The remote suggestion of such +a thing would have offended me; for my heart was full of false pride, +though I knew it not. But there was a destiny for Blanche, foreshadowed +for me then, but not seen." + +"It is the quality of the man," I said, "that determines the quality +of the marriage. She who weds best, weds the truest man. The rank +and wealth are of the last consideration. To make them first, is the +blindest folly of the blindest." + +"Ah, if this were but rightly understood"--said Mrs. Montgomery--"what +new lives would people begin to live in the world! How the shadows +that dwell among so many households--even those of the fairest external +seeming--would begin to lift themselves upward and roll away, letting in +the sunlight and filling the chambers of discord with heavenly music! I +have sometimes thought, that more than half the misery which curses the +world springs from discordant marriages." + +"The estimate is low," I answered. "If you had said two-thirds, you +would have been, perhaps, nearer the truth." + +Blanche crossed the room, and came and stood by her mother's chair, +looking down into her face with a loving smile. + +"I am afraid the journey has been too much for you," she said, with a +shadow of concern in her face. + +"You look paler than usual." + +"Paler, because a little fatigued, dear. But a night's rest will bring +me up even again," Mrs. Montgomery replied cheerfully. + +"How is the pain in your side, now?" asked Blanche, still with a look of +concern. + +"Easier. I scarcely notice it now." + +"Blanche is over anxious about my health, dear girl!" said Mrs. +Montgomery, as the bride moved to another part of the room. "She thinks +me failing rapidly. And, without doubt, the foundations of this earthly +house are giving way; but I trust, that ere it fall into ruin, a house +not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens, will be ready for my +reception." + +There was no depressing solemnity in her tones, as she thus alluded to +that event which comes to all; but a smiling cheerfulness of manner that +was contagious. + +"You think of death as a Christian," said I. + +"And how else should I think of it?" she replied. "Can I not trust Him +in whom I have believed? What is it more than passing from a lower to a +higher state of life--from the natural to the spiritual world? When the +hour comes, I will lay me down in peace and sleep." + +She remained silent for some moments, her thoughts apparently indrawn. +The brief, closing sentence was spoken as if she were lapsing into +reverie. I thought the subject hardly in place for a wedding occasion, +and was about starting another theme, when she said-- + +"Do you not think, Doctor, that this dread of dying, which haunts most +people like a fearful spectre--the good as well as the bad--is a very +foolish thing? We are taught, from childhood, to look forward to death +as the greatest of all calamities; as a change attended by indefinable +terrors. Teachers and preachers ring in our ears the same dread chimes, +thrilling the strongest nerves and appalling the stoutest hearts. Death +is pictured to us as a grim monster; and we shudder as we look at the +ghastly apparition. Now, all this comes from what is false. Death is +not the crowning evil of our lives; but the door through which we pass, +tranquilly, into that eternal world, which is our destined home. I hold +in my thought a different picture of Death from that which affrighted +me in childhood. The form is one of angelic beauty, and the countenance +full of love. I know, that when I pass along the dark and narrow way +that leads from this outer world of nature, to the inner world from +which it has existence, that my hand will rest firmly in that of an +angel, commissioned of God to guide my peaceful footsteps. Is not that a +better faith?" + +"Yes, a better and a truer," said I. + +"It is not the death passage that we need fear. That has in it no +intrinsic evil. It is the sleep of mortality, and the rest is sweet +to all. If we give place to fear, let it be for that state beyond the +bourne, which will be unhappy in the degree that we are lovers of self +and the world--that is, lovers of evil instead of good. As the tree +falls, so it lies, Doctor. As our quality is at death, so will it remain +to all eternity. Here is the just occasion for dread." + +She would have kept on, but her attention was drawn away by the remark +of a lady who came up at the moment. I left her side and passed to +another part of the room; but her words, tone, and impressive manner +remained with me. I turned my eyes often during the evening upon her +pale, pure face, which seemed like a transparent veil through which the +spirit half revealed itself. How greatly she had changed in five years! +There had been trial and discipline; and she had come up from them +purer for the ordeal. The flesh had failed; but the spirit had taken on +strength and beauty. + +"How did Mrs. Montgomery impress you?" said I to my wife, as we sat down +together on our return home. + +"As one ready to be translated," she answered. "I was at a loss to +determine which was the most beautiful, she or Blanche." + +"You cannot make a comparison between them as to beauty," I remarked. + +"Not as to beauty in the same degree. The beauty of Blanche was queenly; +that of her mother angelic. All things lovely in nature were collated, +and expressed themselves in the younger as she stood blushing in the +ripeness of her charms; while all things lovely in the soul beamed forth +from the countenance of the elder. And so, as I have said, I was at a +loss to determine which was most beautiful." + +I was just rising from my early breakfast on the next morning when I +received a hurried message from Ivy Cottage. The angel of Death had been +there. Tenderly and lovingly had he taken the hand of Mrs. Montgomery, +and led her through the gate that opens into the land of immortals. +She received her daughter's kiss at eleven o'clock, held her for some +moments, gazing into her face, and then said--"Good-night, my precious +one! Good-night, and God bless you!" At seven in the morning she was +found lying in bed with a smile on her face, but cold and lifeless as +marble! There had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +No;--there had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. As a child +falls asleep in its mother's arms, so fell Mrs. Montgomery asleep in the +arms of an angel--tranquil, peaceful, happy. I say happy--for in lapsing +away into that mortal sleep, of which our natural sleep is but an image, +shall the world-weary who have in trial and suffering grown heavenly +minded, sink into unconsciousness with less of tranquil delight than the +babe pillowed against its mother's bosom? I think not. + +As I gazed upon her dead face, where the parting soul had left its sign +of peace, I prayed that, when I passed from my labors, there might be as +few stains of earth upon my garments. + +"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, Yea, saith the Spirit, for +they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." + +I found myself repeating these holy words, as I stood looking at the +white, shrunken features of the departed. + +It was not until the next day that I saw Blanche. But Constance was with +her immediately after the sad news jarred upon her sympathizing heart. + +"How did you leave her?" was my anxious query, on meeting my wife at +home. + +"Calm," was the brief answer. + +How much the word included! + +"Did you talk with her?" + +"Not a great deal; she did not seem inclined to talk, like some who seek +relief through expression. I found her alone in the room next to the one +in which the body of her mother was lying. She was sitting by a table, +with one hand pressed over her eyes, as I entered. 'Oh, my friend! my +dear friend!' she said, in a tone of grief, rising and coming a step or +two to meet me. I drew my arms around her, and she laid her head against +me and sobbed three or four times, while the tears ran down and dropped +upon the floor. 'It is well with her!' I said. + +"'Oh, yes, my friend, it is well with her,' she answered, mournfully, +'well with her, but not with me. How shall I walk onward in life's +difficult ways, without my mother's arm to lean upon? My steps already +hesitate.' + +"'You have another arm to lean upon,' I ventured to suggest. + +"'Yes, a strong arm upon which I can lean in unfaltering trust. In this +God has been good to me. But my wise, patient mother--how shall I live +without her?' + +"'She is only removed from you as to bodily presence,' said I. 'Love +conjoins your souls as intimately as ever.' + +"'Ah, yes, I know this must be. Too many times have I heard that +comforting truth from her lips ever to forget it. But while we are in +the body, the mind will not rest satisfied with any thing less than +bodily presence.' + +"I did not press the point, for I knew that in all sorrow the heart is +its own best comforter, and gathers for itself themes of consolation +that even the nearest friend would fail to suggest. We went in together +to look at the frail tabernacle from which the pure spirit of her mother +had departed forever! How sweetly the smile left upon the lips in the +last kiss of parting, lingered there still, fixed in human marble with +more than a sculptor's art! There was no passionate weeping, as we stood +by the lifeless clay. Very calm and silent she was; but oh, what a look +of intense love went out from her sad eyes! Not despairing but hopeful +love. The curtain of death hid from her no land of shadows and mystery; +but a world of spiritual realities. Her mother had not gone shrinking +and trembling into regions of darkness and doubt; but in the blessed +assurance of a peaceful reception in the house of her friends. + +"How a true faith," said I, strongly impressed by the images which +were presented to my mind, "strips from death its old terrors! When the +Apostle exclaimed, 'Oh, grave, where is thy victory? oh, death, where +is thy sting?' his mind looked deeper into the mystery of dying, and +saw farther into the world beyond, than do our modern Christians, who +frighten us with images of terror. 'I will lay me down in peace +and sleep,' when the time of my departure comes, should be the +heart-language of every one who takes upon himself the name of Him who +said, 'In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place +for you, that where I am, ye may be also.'" + +"Since I knew Mrs. Montgomery, and felt the sphere of her quality," said +Constance, "my perceptions of life and duty here, and their connection +with life and happiness hereafter, have been elevated to a higher +region. I see no longer as in a glass darkly, but in the light of +reason, made clear by the more interior light of Revelation." + +"And the same is true with me," I replied. "We may well say that it +was good to have known her. She was so true, so just, so unconscious +of self, that truth, justice, and unselfishness were always lovelier in +your eyes for having seen them illustrated in her person. And there +was no pious cant about her. No parade of her unworthiness; no solemn +aspects, nor obtrusive writings of bitter things against herself. But +always an effort to repress what was evil in her nature; and a state of +quiet, religious trust, which said, 'I know in whom I have believed.'" + +"Ah," said Constance, "if there was only more of such religion in the +world!" + +"It would be a happier world than it is," I answered. + +"By the impress of a life like hers, what lasting good is done!" said my +wife. "Such are the salt of the earth. Cities set upon hills. Lights in +candlesticks. They live not in vain!'" + +I did not see Blanche until the day of burial. Her beautiful face was +calm, but very pale. It bore strongly the impress of sorrow, but not of +that hopeless sorrow which we so often see on these mournful occasions. +It was very plain that her thoughts were not lingering around the +shrouded and coffined form of what was once her mother's body, but were +following her into the world beyond our mortal vision, as we follow a +dear friend who has gone from us on a long journey. + +And thus it was that Blanche Montgomery entered upon her new life. +Death's shadow fell upon the torch of Hymen. There was a rain of grief +just as the sun of love poured forth his brightest beams, and the bow +which spanned the horizon gave, in that hour of grief, sweet promise for +the future. + +These exciting events in the experience of our young friends had come +upon us so suddenly, that our minds were half bewildered. A few weeks +served, however, to bring all things into a right adjustment with our +own daily life and thought, and Ivy Cottage became one of the places +that grew dearer to us for the accumulating memories of pleasant hours +spent there with true-hearted ones who were living for something more +than the unreal things of this world. + +How many times was the life that beat so feverishly in the Allen House, +and that which moved to such even pulsings in Ivy Cottage, contrasted in +my observation! Ten years of a marriage such as Delia Floyd so unwisely +consummated, had not served for the development of her inner life to any +right purpose. She had kept on in the wrong way taken by her feet in +the beginning, growing purse proud, vain, ambitious of external +pre-eminence, worldly-minded, and self-indulgent. She had four children, +who were given up almost wholly to the care of hirelings. There was, +consequent upon neglect, ignorance, and bad regimen, a great deal of +sickness among them, and I was frequently called in to interpose my +skill for their relief. Poor little suffering ones! how often I pitied +them An occasional warning was thrown in, but it was scarcely heeded +by the mother, who had put on towards me a reserved stateliness, that +precluded all friendly remonstrance. + +At least two months of every summer Mrs. Dewey was absent from S----, +intermitting between Saratoga and Newport, where she abandoned herself +to all the excitements of fashionable dissipation. Regularly each year +we saw her name in the New York correspondence of the Herald, as the +"fascinating Mrs. D----;" the "charming wife of Mr. D----;" or in some +like style of reference. At last, coupled with one of these allusions, +was an intimation that "it might be well if some discreet friend would +whisper in the lady's ear that she was a little too intimate with men of +doubtful reputation; particularly in the absence of her husband." + +This paragraph was pointed out to me by one of my patients. I read it +with a throb of pain. A little while afterwards I passed Mr. Floyd and +Mr. Dewey in the street. They were walking rapidly, and conversing in an +excited manner. I saw them take the direction of the depot. + +"Here is trouble!" I said, sighing to myself. "Trouble that gold cannot +gild, nor the sparkle of diamonds hide. Alas! alas! that a human soul, +in which was so fair a promise, should get so far astray!" + +I met Mr. Floyd half an hour later. His face was pale and troubled, and +his eyes upon the ground. He did not see me--or care to see me--and so +we passed without recognition. + +Before night the little warning sentence, written by the Saratoga +correspondent, was running from lip to lip all over S----. Some pitied, +some blamed, and not a few were glad in their hearts of the disgrace; +for Mrs. Dewey had so carried herself among us as to destroy all +friendly feeling. + +There was an expectant pause for several days. Then it was noised +through the town that Mr. Dewey had returned, bringing his wife home +with him. I met him in the street on the day after. There was a heavy +cloud on his brow. Various rumors were afloat. One was--it came from a +person just arrived from Saratoga--that Mr. Dewey surprised his wife in +a moonlight walk with a young man for whom he had no particular fancy, +and under such lover-like relations, that he took the liberty of caning +the gentleman on the spot. Great excitement followed. The young +man resisted--Mrs. Dewey screamed in terror--people flocked to the +place--and mortifying exposure followed. This story was in part +corroborated by the following paragraph in the Herald's Saratoga +correspondence: + +"We had a spicy scene, a little out of the regular performance, last +evening; no less than the caning of a New York sprig of fashion, who +made himself rather more agreeable to a certain married lady who dashes +about here in a queenly way than was agreeable to her husband. The +affair was hushed up. This morning I missed the lady from her usual +place at the breakfast-table. Later in the day I learned that her +husband had taken her home. If he'll accept my advice, he will keep her +there." + +"Poor Mrs. Floyd!" It was the mother's deep sorrow and humiliation that +touched the heart of my Constance when this disgraceful exposure reached +her. "She has worn to me a troubled look for this long while," she +added. "The handsome new house which the Squire built, and into which +they moved last year, has not, with all its elegant accompaniments, made +her any more cheerful than she was before. Mrs. Dean told me that her +sister was very much opposed to leaving her old home; but the Squire +has grown rich so fast that he must have everything in the external +to correspond with his improved circumstances. Ah me! If, with riches, +troubles so deep must come, give me poverty as a blessing." + +A week passed, and no one that I happened to meet knew, certainly, +whether Mrs. Dewey was at home or not. Then she suddenly made her +appearance riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as +self-assured as of old. + +"That was a strange story about Mrs. Dewey," said I to a lady whom I +was visiting professionally. I knew her to be of Mrs. Dewey's set. +Don't smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a fashionable +"set," in S----, and Mrs. Dewey was the leader. + +The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked +knowing and mysterious. I had expected this, for I knew my subject very +well. + +"You were at Saratoga," I added; "and must know whether rumor has +exaggerated her conduct." + +"Well, Doctor," said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on the +air of one who spoke in confidence. "I must say that our friend was not +as discreet as she might have been. Nothing wrong--that is, criminal--of +course. But the truth is, she is too fond of admiration, and encourages +the attentions of young men a great deal more than is discreet for any +married woman." + +"There was an actual rencontre between Mr. Dewey and a person he thought +too familiar with his wife?" said I. + +"Oh, yes. Why, it was in the newspapers!" + +"How was it made up between the parties?" + +"It isn't made up at all, I believe; There's been some talk of a duel." + +"A sad affair," said I. "How could Mrs. Dewey have been so thoughtless?" + +"She isn't prudent, by any means," answered this intimate friend. "I +often look at the way she conducts herself at public places, and wonder +at her folly." + +"Folly, indeed, if her conduct strikes at the root of domestic +happiness." + +The lady shook her head in a quiet, meaning way. + +I waited for her to put her thoughts into words, which she did in a few +moments after this fashion: + +"There's not much domestic happiness to spoil, Doctor, so far as I can +see. I don't think she cares a farthing for her husband; and he seems to +have his mind so full of grand business schemes as to have no place left +for the image of his wife. At least, so I read him." + +"How has this matter affected their relation one to the other?" + +"I have not seen them together since her return, and therefore cannot +speak from actual observation," she replied. + +There was nothing very definite in all this, yet it revealed such an +utter abandonment of life's best hopes--such a desolation of love's +pleasant land--such a dark future for one who might have been so nobly +blest in a true marriage union, that I turned from the theme with a sad +heart. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Almost daily, while the pleasant fall weather lasted, did I meet the +handsome carriage of Mrs. Dewey; but I noticed that she went less +through the town, and oftener out into the country. And I also noticed +that she rode alone more frequently than she had been accustomed to do. +Formerly, one fashionable friend or another, who felt it to be an honor +to sit in the carriage of Mrs. Dewey, was generally to be seen in her +company when she went abroad. Now, the cases were exceptional. I also +noticed a gathering shade of trouble on her face. + +The fact was, opinion had commenced setting against her. The unhappy +affair at Saratoga was not allowed to sleep in the public mind of S----. +It was conned over, magnified, distorted, and added to, until it assumed +most discreditable proportions; and ladies who respected themselves +began to question whether it was altogether reputable to be known as her +intimate friends. The less scrupulous felt the force of example as set +by these, and began receding also. In a large city, like New York, the +defection would only have been partial; for there, one can be included +in many fashionable circles, while only a few of them may be penetrated +by a defaming rumor. But in a small town like S----, the case is +different. + +I was surprised when I comprehended the meaning of this apparent +isolation of herself by Mrs. Dewey, and saw, in progress, the ban of +social ostracism. While I pitied the victim, I was glad that we had +virtue enough, even among our weak-minded votaries of fashion, to stamp +with disapproval the conduct of which she had been guilty. + +"I saw Mrs. Dewey this morning," said my wife, one day, late in +November. "She was in at Howard's making some purchases." + +"Did you speak to her?" + +"Yes, we passed a few words. How much she has changed!" + +"For the worse?" + +"Yes. She appears five years older than she did last summer, and has +such a sad, disappointed look, that I could not help pitying her from my +heart." + +"There are few who need your pity more, Constance. I think she must be +wretched almost beyond endurance. So young, and the goblet which held +the shine of her life broken, and all its precious contents spilled in +the thirsty sand at her feet. Every one seems to have receded from her." + +"The common sentiment is against her; and yet, I am of those who never +believed her any thing worse than indiscreet." + +"Her indiscretion was in itself a heinous offence against good morals," +said I; "and while she has my compassion, I have no wish to see a +different course of treatment pursued towards her." + +"I haven't much faith in the soundness of this common sentiment against +her," replied Constance. "There is in it some self-righteousness, a good +deal of pretended horror at her conduct, but very little real virtuous +indignation. It is my opinion that eight out of ten of her old +fashionable friends would be just as intimate with her as ever, though +they knew all about the affair at Saratoga, if they only were in the +secret. It is in order to stand well with the world that they lift their +hands in pretended holy horror." + +"We cannot expect people to act from any higher principles than they +possess," said I; "and it is something gained to good morals, when even +those who are corrupt in heart affect to be shocked at departures from +virtue in their friends." + +"Yes, I can see that. Still, when I look beneath the surface, I feel +that, so far as the motives are concerned, a wrong has been done; and +my soul stirs with a feeling of pity towards Mrs. Dewey, and indignation +against her heartless friends. Do you know, dear, that since I met her +this morning, I have had serious thoughts of calling upon her?" + +"You!" + +Constance gave me one of her placid smiles in answer to my surprised +ejaculation. + +"Yes; why not?" + +"What will people say?" + +"I can tell you what they will not say," she replied, + +"Well?" + +"They will not say, as they do of her, that of all men, I care least for +my husband." + +"I am not afraid of their saying that; but--" + +I was a little bewildered by this unexpected thought on the part of my +wife, and did not at first see the matter clear. + +"She has held herself very high, and quite aloof from many of her old +friends," Constance resumed. "While this was the case, I have not +cared to intrude upon her; although she has been kind and polite to me +whenever we happened to meet. Now, when the summer friends who courted +her are dropping away like autumn leaves, a true friend may draw near +and help her in the trial through which she is passing." + +"Right, Constance! right!" said I, warmly. "Your clearer eyes have gone +down below, the surface. Oh, yes; call upon her, and be her true friend, +if she will permit you to come near enough. There can be no loss to you; +there may be great gain to her. Was there any thing in her manner that +encouraged you to approach?" + +"I think so. It was this, no doubt, that stirred the suggestion in my +mind." + +Constance waited a day or two, pondering the matter, and then made a +call at the Allen House. + +"How were you received?" I asked, on meeting her. + +"Kindly," she said. + +"But with indifference?" + +"No. Mrs. Dewey was surprised, I thought, but evidently pleased." + +"How long did you stay?" + +"Only for a short time." + +"What did you talk about?" + +"Scarcely any thing beyond the common-place topics that come up on +formal visits. But I penetrated deep enough into her mind to discover +the 'aching void' there, which she has been so vainly endeavoring to +fill. I do not think she meant to let me see this abyss of wretchedness; +but her efforts to hide it were in vain. Unhappy one! She has been +seeking to quench an immortal thirst at broken cisterns which can hold +no water." + +"Can you do her any good, Constance?" I asked. + +"If we would do good, we must put ourselves in the way," she replied. +"Nothing is gained by standing afar off." + +"Then you mean to call upon her again?" + +"She held my hand at parting, with such an earnest pressure, and looked +at me so kindly when she said, 'Your visit has been very pleasant,' that +I saw the way plain before me." + +"You will wait until she returns your call?" + +"I cannot say. It will depend upon the way things shape themselves in my +mind. If I can do her good, I shall not stand upon etiquette." + +As I came in sight of my modest little home a few days afterwards, I +saw the stylish carriage of Mrs. Dewey dash away from my door, taking a +direction opposite to that by which I was approaching. + +"How are the mighty fallen!" It was hardly a good spirit by whom this +thought was quickened, for I was conscious of something like a feeling +of triumph. With an effort I repressed the ungenerous state of mind. + +"So your call has been returned," said I, on entering our sitting room. + +"Yes. How did you know?" Constance looked up, smiling, but curious. + +"I saw Mrs. Dewey's carriage leave our door as I turned into the street. +Did she come in, or only leave her card?" + +"She came in, and sat for half an hour." + +"And made herself very agreeable,--was patronizing, and all that?" + +"No--nothing of the kind suggested by your words." And Constance looked +at me reproachfully. "She was, on the contrary, quiet, subdued, and +womanly. I called to see her, with the manner of one who had about her +no consciousness of inferiority; and she returned the call, without a +sign that I could regard as offensive." + +"It is well," I answered, coming back into my better state. "If true +friends can take the place of false friends, who left her the moment a +shadow fell upon her good name, then the occasion of blame may pave the +way to life instead of ruin. There must be remains of early and better +states covered up and hidden away in her soul, but not lost; and by +means of these she may be saved--yet, I fear, that only through deep +suffering will the overlying accretions of folly be broken away." + +"She is in the hands of one to whom all spirits are precious," said +Constance, meekly; "and if we can aid in His good work of restoration +and salvation, our reward shall be great." + +After the lapse of a week, Constance called again upon Mrs. Dewey. She +found her in a very unhappy state of mind, and failed, almost entirely, +in her efforts to throw a few sunbeams across the shadow by which she +was environed. Her reception was neither cold nor cordial. + +"I think," she said, "that my visit was untimely. Some recent occurrence +had, probably, disturbed her mind so deeply; that she was not able +to rise above the depression that followed. I noticed a bitterness of +feeling about her that was not apparent on the occasion of my first +call; and a hardness of manner and sentiment, that indicated a condition +of mental suffering having its origin in a sense of wrong. Mr. Dewey +passed through the hall, and went out a few minutes after I entered the +house, and before his wife joined me in the parlor. It may have been +fancy; but I thought, while I sat there awaiting her appearance, that I +heard angry words in the room above. The heavy tread of a man's foot +was there; but the sound ceased all at once--so did the voices. A little +while afterwards Mr. Dewey came down stairs, and went out, as I have +said. Some minutes passed before I heard the rustle of Mrs. Dewey's +garments. There was the air of one disturbed and ill at ease about her, +when she entered; and though she made an effort to seem pleased, all was +forced work. Poor woman! The path she selected to walk in through the +world has proved rough and thorny, I fear, beyond any thing dreamed of +in her young imagination." + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +Weeks passed after this second visit to the Allen House, but the call +was not returned by Mrs. Dewey. We talked the matter over, occasionally, +and concluded that, for some reason best known to herself, the friendly +overtures of Constance were not agreeable to the lady. She was not often +seen abroad, and when she did appear, the closed windows of her carriage +usually hid her face from careful observation. + +Of late, Mr. Dewey was away from S----more than usual, business +connected with the firm of which he was a member requiring his frequent +presence in New York. He did not remain absent over two or three days at +a time. + +Nearly opposite to where I resided lived Mr. Joshua Kling, the Cashier +of the new Clinton Bank. He and Mr. Dewey seemed to be on particularly +friendly terms. Often I noticed the visits of Mr. Dewey to the Cashier's +house after bank hours, and many times in paying evening calls would I +meet the two gentlemen, arm in arm, engaged in close conversation. + +It was pretty generally understood in S----that the Clinton Bank was +in the hands or parties in New York, and that a large proportion of the +discounts made were of paper bearing the endorsement of Floyd, Lawson, +Lee, & Co., which was passed by the directors as the legitimate business +paper received by that house in its extensive business operations; or of +paper drawn to the order of John Floyd & Co., given in payment of goods +manufactured at the mills in S----. It was also generally conceded that +as, through their partner, Mr. Dewey, this firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, +& Co., had invested a large amount of capital in S----, and by their +liberality and enterprise greatly benefited the town, they were +entitled to all the favors it was in the power of the bank to give; more +particularly as the firm was one of great wealth--"solid as gold"--and +the interests of the stockholders would, therefore, be best served by +keeping the line of discount mainly in so safe a channel. + +Now and then a disappointed storekeeper, whose small offerings were +thrown out, would inveigh bitterly against the directors, calling hard +names, and prophesying "a grand explosion one of these days;" but these +invectives and predictions hardly ever found a repetition beyond the +narrow limits of his place of business. + +And so the splendid schemes of Ralph Dewey and Company went on +prospering, while he grew daily in self-importance, and in offensive +superciliousness toward men from whom he had nothing to expect. In +my own case I had little to complain of, as my contact with him was +generally professional, and under circumstances that caused a natural +deference to my skill as a physician. + +Nothing out of the ordinary range of things transpired until towards +Christmas, when my wife received a note from Mrs. Dewey, asking her as a +special favor to call at the Allen House. She was there in half an hour +after the note came to hand. + +I was at home when she returned, and saw the moment I looked into her +face that she had been the witness of something that had moved her +deeply. + +"Is anything wrong with Mrs. Dewey?" I asked. + +"Yes." Her countenance took on a more serious aspect. + +"In what respect?" + +"The story cannot be told in a sentence. I received a note from her as +you are aware. Its earnest brevity forewarned me that the call involved +something of serious import; and I was not mistaken in this conclusion. +On calling, and asking for Mrs. Dewey, I noticed an air of irresolution +about the servant. 'Mrs. Dewey is not well,' she said, 'and I hardly +think can see company to-day.' + +"'She is not ill, I hope?' said I. + +"'No, ma'am; not ill exactly, but--' and she hesitated and looked +embarrassed. + +"'She will see me,' I spoke confidently. 'Take her my name, and I will +wait here in the parlor.' + +"In a few minutes the girl returned and asked me to walk up stairs. I +followed her to Mrs. Dewey's room. She tapped lightly on the door, which +was opened. I passed in, and found myself alone with Delia. She grasped +my arm tightly as she shut the door and locked it, saying as she did so, +in a voice so altered from her usual tone, that it sounded strangely in +my ears-- + +"'Thank you, my friend, for coming so soon. I am in deep trouble, and +need a counselor as well as a comforter. I can trust you for both.' + +"I drew my arm around her, so that by act I could give more than the +assurance of words, and walked from the door with her to a lounge +between the windows, where we sat down. Her face had a shrunken aspect, +like the face of one who had been sick; and it showed also the marks of +great suffering. + +"'You may trust me as your own sister, Delia,' said I, 'and if in my +power to counsel or to comfort, both will be freely accorded.' + +"I called her Delia, instead of Mrs. Dewey; not from design, but because +the old name by which I had known her was first on my lips. + +"I thought there was a sudden lifting of her eyes as I pronounced this +name. The effect, if any followed, was not to repel, but to draw her +closer. + +"'I am standing,' she said, speaking slowly and solemnly, 'at the edge +of a deep abyss, my way hedged up on both sides, and enemies coming on +behind. I have not strength to spring over; and to fall is destruction. +In my weakness and despair, I turn to you for help. If there is help in +any mortal arm, something tells me it is in yours.' + +"She did not weep, nor show strong emotion. But her face was almost +colorless, and presented an image of woe such as never met my eyes, +except in pictures. + +"'You have heard, no doubt,' she went on, 'some of the stories to +my discredit which have been circulated in S----. That I was gay and +imprudent at Saratoga, cannot be denied--gay and imprudent as are too +many fashionable women, under the exciting allurements of the place. +Little fond flirtations with gentlemen made up a part of our pastime +there. But as for sin--it was not in my thoughts!' She said this with +an emphasis that assured me of its truth. 'A mere life of fashionable +pleasure is a great exhauster of resources. One tires of this excitement +and of that, pushing them aside, as a child does an old or broken toy, +to grasp after something new. It is not surprising, therefore, that mere +pleasure-seeking women forget at times the just proprieties of life, +and, before they are aware of danger, find themselves in very equivocal +positions. This was simply my case. Nothing more--nothing less.' + +"She paused and looked earnestly into my face, to see if I credited this +assertion. + +"'I have never believed any thing else,' said I. + +"A faint, sad smile flitted across her wan face. + +"'The consequences of this error on my part,' she went on, 'threaten +to be of the most disastrous kind. My husband has ever since conducted +himself towards me as if I were a guilty and disgraced thing. We occupy +separate apartments; and though we sit together at the same table, words +rarely pass between us. Occasionally he comes home under the influence +of wine, and then his abuse of me is fearful to think of. If any thing +could waken a thoughtless creature sleeping on enchanted ground, it was +this.' + +"'There has never been anything more than the semblance of love between +us,' she continued. 'The more intimately I came to know him, after +our marriage, the more did my soul separate itself from him, until the +antipodes were not farther apart than we. So we lived on; I seeking a +poor compensation in fashionable emulations and social triumphs; and he +in grand business enterprises--castles in the air perhaps. Living +thus, we have come to this point in our journey; and now the crisis has +arrived!' + +"She paused. + +"' What crisis?' I asked. + +"'He demands a separation.' Her voice choked--'a divorce--' + +"'On what ground?' + +"'On legal ground.' She bent down, covered her face, and uttered a +groan so full of mental anguish, that I almost shuddered as the sound +penetrated my ears. + +"'I am to remain passive,' she resumed, while he charges me before the +proper court, with infidelity, and gains a divorce through failure on +my part to stand forth and defend myself. This, or a public trial of the +case, at which he pledges himself to have witnesses who will prove me +criminal, is my dreadful alternative. If he gains a divorce quietly on +the charge of infidelity, I am wronged and disgraced; and if successful +in a public trial, through perjured witnesses, the wrong and disgrace +will be more terrible. Oh, my friend! pity and counsel me.' + +"'There is one,' said I, 'better able to stand your friend in a crisis +like this than I am.' + +"'Who?' She looked up anxiously. + +"'Your father.' + +"A shadow fell over her face, and she answered mournfully, + +"'Even he is against me. How it is I cannot tell; but my husband seems +to have my father completely under his influence.' + +"'Your mother?' I suggested. + +"'Can only weep with me. I have no adviser, and my heart beats so wildly +all the time, that thought confuses itself whenever it makes an effort +to see the right direction. Fear of a public trial suggests passive +endurance of wrong on my part; but an innate sense of justice cries out +against this course, and urges me to resistance.' + +"'If you are innocent,' said I, firmly, 'in the name and strength of +innocence defend yourself! All that a woman holds dearest is at stake. +If they drive you to this great extremity, do not shrink from the +trial.' + +"'But what hope have I in such a trial if false witnesses come up +against me?' + +"'God and justice are stronger than all the powers of evil,' said I. + +"'They might be, in your case,' she answered, mournfully; 'for you have +made God your friend, and justice your strong tower. But I--what have I +to hope for in God? He has not been in all my thoughts; and now will He +not mock at my calamity?' + +"'No--no, my unhappy friend!' I answered. 'He never turns from any; it +is we who turn from Him. His tender mercy is over all His works. All +human souls are alike precious in His eyes. If you trust in Him, you +need not fear your bitterest enemies.' + +"'How shall I trust in him?' + +"She bent towards me eagerly. + +"'In the simple work of doing right,' said I. + +"'Doing right?' + +"She did not clearly understand me. + +"Do you think it would be right to let a charge of crime lie, +unrepelled, against you; a great crime, such as is alleged--destroying +your good name, and throwing a shadow of disgrace over your children!' + +"'No,' was her unhesitating reply. + +"'Then it would be wrong for you to suffer a divorce to issue on the +ground of infidelity, without a defence of yourself by every legal means +in your power. Do right, then, in so defending yourself, and trust in +God for the result.' + +"I shudder at the bare thought of a public trial,' she answered. + +"'Don't think of anything but right action, said I. If you would have +the Hosts of Heaven on your side, give them power by doing the right; +and they will surely achieve for you the victory over all your enemies. +Have any steps been taken by Mr. Dewey?' + +"'I fear so.' + +"'How long is it since your husband entertained this purpose?' + +"'I think it has been growing in his mind ever since that unhappy affair +at Saratoga.' + +"As she said this, her thoughts seemed to turn aside upon something +else, and she sat looking down upon the floor in a state of deep +abstraction. At last, taking a long breath, she looked up, and said with +trembling lips and a husky voice, + +"'I have something more to tell you. There is another aspect to this +miserable affair.' + +"And she drew forth a crumpled letter. + +"'I found this, sealed, and directed, lying on the floor of my husband's +room, two days ago. It is in his hand writing; addressed to a lady +in New York, and signed R. D. I will read you its contents.' And she +unfolded the letter, and read: + +"'My dearest Caroline,' it began; and then went on for a few paragraphs, +in a lover-like strain; after which, the divorce from the writer's wife +was referred to as a thing of speedy attainment, there being little fear +of opposition on her part, as he had given her to understand that he had +witnesses ready to prove her criminal conduct; if she dared to resist +his will in the matter. 'A few months of patient waiting, dearest +Caroline,' was the concluding sentence, 'and then for that happy +consummation we have so long desired.' + +"'What do you think of that?' asked poor Delia, looking almost wildly +into my face. + +"'I think,' said I, 'that you hold in your hands the means of safety. +Your husband will not dare to force you into a defensive position, when +he learns that you have this document in your possession. It would tell +strongly against him and his perjured witnesses if produced in court. +Then take heart, my friend. This worst evil that you dreaded will +not come to pass. If a divorce is granted, it will have to be on some +different allegation.' + +"She grasped my hand, and said, 'Oh, do you think so? Do you think so?'" + +"'I am sure of it,' was my confident answer. 'Sure of it. Why the man +would only damage his cause, and disgrace himself, by venturing into a +trial with a witness like this against him.'" + +"'Oh, bless you for such confidently assuring words!' and the poor +creature threw herself forward, and laid her face upon my bosom. For +the first time she wept, and for a season, oh how wildly! You will not +wonder that my tears fell almost as fast as hers. + +"'I turned in my despair to you,' she said, on growing calm, 'you whom +I loved, and almost revered, in the earlier and better days of my life, +and my heart tells me that I have not turned in vain. Into the darkness +that surrounded me like the pall of death, a little light has already +penetrated.'" + +"May it shine unto the perfect day!" I answered fervently. + +"And, dear husband! it will shine," said Constance, a glow of enthusiasm +lighting up her face, and giving it a new beauty, "even unto the perfect +day! Not the perfect day of earthly bliss--for I think the sun of that +day has gone down never to rise again for her--but the perfect day of +that higher life, which to many comes not, except through the gates of +tribulation." + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +I was shocked and distressed by the painful revelation which Mrs. Dewey +had made to Constance. A sadder history in real life I had never heard. + +A few days after this memorable visit to the Allen House, a note was +received by my wife, containing this single word, "_Come_," and signed +_Delia_. + +"Any change in the aspect of affairs?" I inquired of Constance on her +return. + +"Yes. Mrs. Dewey has received notice, in due form, of her husband's +application for a divorce." + +"What has she done?" + +"Nothing yet. It was to ask my advice as to her best course that she +sent for me." + +"And what advice did you give her?" + +"I gave none. First, I must consult you." + +I shook my head and replied, + +"It will not do for me to be mixed up in this affair, Constance." + +Worldly prudence spoke there. + +My wife laid her hand upon my arm, and looking calmly in my face, said, + +"The right way is always a safe way." + +"Granted." + +"It will be right for you to give such advice as your judgment dictates, +and therefore safe. I do not know much about law matters, but it occurs +to me that her first step should be the employment of counsel." + +"Is her father going to stand wholly aloof?" I inquired. + +"Yes, if she be resolved to defend herself in open court. He will not +sanction a course that involves so much disgrace of herself and family." + +"Has she shown him the letter you saw?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +"I think she is afraid to let it go out of her hands." + +"She might trust it with her father, surely," said I. + +"Her father has been very hard with her; and seems to take the worst for +granted. He evidently believes that it is in the power of Dewey to prove +her guilty; and that if she makes any opposition to his application for +a divorce, he will hold her up disgraced before the world." + +"This letter might open his eyes." + +"The letter is no defence of her; only a witness against him. It does +not prove her innocence. If it did, then it would turn toward her a +father's averted face. In court its effect will be to throw doubt +upon the sincerity of her husband's motives, and to show that he had a +reason, back of alleged infidelity, for wishing to be divorced from his +wife." + +"I declare, Constance!" said I, looking at my wife in surprise, "you +have taken upon yourself a new character. I think the case is safe in +your hands, and that Mrs. Dewey wants no more judicious friend. If +you were a man, you might conduct the defence for her to a successful +issue." + +"I am not a man, and, therefore, I come to a man," she replied, "and ask +the aid of his judgment. I go by a very straight road to conclusions; +but I want the light of your reason upon these conclusions." + +"I am not a lawyer as you are aware, Constance--only a doctor." + +"You are a man with a heart and common sense," she answered, with just +a little shade of rebuke in her tones, "and as God has put in your way a +wretched human soul that may be lost, unless you stretch forth a saving +hand, is there any room for question as to duty? There is none, my +husband! Squire Floyd believes his daughter guilty; and while he rests +in this conclusion, he will not aid her in anything that points to +exposure and disgrace. She must, therefore, if a vigorous defence is +undertaken, look elsewhere for aid and comfort." + +I began to see the matter a little clearer. + +"Mr. Wallingford is the best man I know." + +"Mr. Wallingford!" I thought Constance would have looked me through. + +"Mr. Wallingford!" she repeated, still gazing steadily into my face. +"Are you jesting?" + +"No," I replied calmly. "In a case that involves so much, she wants a +wise and good defender; and I do not know of any man upon whom she could +so thoroughly rely." + +Constance dropped her eyes to the floor. + +"It would not do," she said, after some moments. + +"Why?" + +"Their former relation to each other precludes its possibility." + +"But, you must remember, Constance, that Delia never knew how deeply he +was once attached to her." + +"She knows that he offered himself." + +"And that, in a very short time afterwards, he met her with as much +apparent indifference as if she had never been to him more than a +pleasant acquaintance. Of the struggle through which he passed, in the +work of obliterating her image from his mind, she knows nothing." + +"But he knows it," objected Constance. + +"And what does that signify? Will he defend her less skillfully on this +account? Rather will he not feel a stronger interest in the case?" + +"I do not think that she will employ him to defend her," said Constance. +"I would not, were the case mine." + +"Womanly pride spoke there, Constance." + +"Or rather say a manly lack of perception in your case." + +"Perception of what?" + +"Of the fitness of things," she answered. + +"That is just what I do see," I returned. "There is no man in +S----better fitted for conducting this case than Mr. Wallingford." + +"She will never place it in his hands; you may take a woman's word for +that," said my wife confidently. "Of all living men he is the last one +to whom she could talk of the humiliating particulars involved in a case +like this." + +"Suppose you suggest his name to her. Twelve years of such a life as she +has led may have almost obliterated the memory of that passage in her +life." + +"Don't believe it. A woman never forgets a passage like that; +particularly when the events of every passing day but serve to remind +her of the error she once committed." + +"I don't know what else to advise," said I. "She ought to have a good +and discreet man to represent her, or all may be lost." + +"Would you have any objection to confer with Mr. Wallingford on the +subject in a private, confidential way?" + +"None in the world," I replied. + +"Will you see him at once?" The interest of Constance was too strongly +excited to brook delay. + +"Yes, immediately." + +And putting on my overcoat I went to the office of Mr. Wallingford. I +found him alone, and at once laid the whole case before him--relating, +with particularity, all that had occurred between my wife and Mrs. +Dewey. He listened with deep and pitying attention; and when I was +through, expressed his opinion of Dewey in very strong language. + +"And now what is to be done?" I asked, going at once to the vital +question. + +"Your wife is right," he answered. "I can hardly become her advocate. It +would involve humiliation on her part too deep to be borne. But my aid +she shall have to the fullest extent; and it will be strange if I do not +thwart his wicked scheme." + +"How will you aid her?" + +"Through her right attorney, if my advice as to the choice be followed. +You know James Orton?" + +"Yes." + +"He is a young man to be relied upon. Let Mrs. Dewey put the case in his +hands. If she does so, it will be, virtually, in mine." + +"Enough, Mr. Wallingford," said I. "It looks more hopeful for our poor +unhappy friend, against whom even her own flesh and blood have turned." + +When I gave Constance the result of my interview with Mr. Wallingford, +she was quite elated at the prospect of securing his most valuable aid +for Mrs. Dewey. Orton was young, and had been practising at the bar for +only a couple of years. Up to this time he had not appeared in any case +of leading importance; and had, therefore, no established reputation. +Our fear was that Mrs. Dewey might not be willing to place her case in +such inexperienced hands. In order to have the matter settled with as +little delay as possible, Constance paid an early visit to the Allen +House, and suggested Mr. Orton as counsel. Mrs. Dewey had not even heard +his name; but, after being assured that I had the fullest confidence in +him, and particularly advised his employment, she consented to accept of +his services. + +Their first interview was arranged to take place at my house, and in +the presence of my wife, when the notice Mrs. Dewey had received on the +institution of proceedings, was placed in the young lawyer's hands, and +some conversation had as to the basis and tenor of an answer. A second +interview took place on the day following, at which Mrs. Dewey gave a +full statement of the affair at Saratoga, and asserted her innocence in +the most solemn and impressive manner. The letter from her husband to +the lady in New York, was produced, and at the request of Mr. Orton, +given into his possession. + +The answer to Mr. Dewey's application for a divorce was drawn up by Mr. +Wallingford, who entered with great earnestness into the matter. It +was filed in court within a week after notice of the application +was received. This was altogether unexpected by the husband, who, on +becoming aware of the fact, lost all decent control of himself, and +ordered his wretched wife to leave his house. This, however, she refused +to do. Then she had her father's angry opposition to brave. But she +remained firm. + +"He will cover you with infamy, if you dare to persevere in this mad +opposition," he said. And she answered-- + +"The infamy may recoil upon his own head. I am innocent--I will not be +such a traitor to virtue as to let silence declare me guilty." + +There was a pause, now, for a few weeks. The unhappy state of affairs at +the Allen House made it hardly proper for my wife to continue her visits +there, and Mrs. Dewey did not venture to call upon her. The trial of the +case would not come up for some two or three months, and both parties +were waiting, in stern resolution, for the approaching contest. + +One day I received a message from Mrs. Dewey, desiring me to call +and see two of her children who were sick. On visiting them--the two +youngest--I found them seriously ill, with symptoms so like scarletina, +that I had little question in my mind as to the character of the disease +from which they were suffering. My second visit confirmed these fears. + +"It is scarlet fever?" said Mrs. Dewey, looking at me calmly, as I moved +from the bed-side after a careful examination of the two little ones. + +I merely answered-- + +"Yes." + +There was no change in her countenance. + +"They are both very ill." + +She spoke with a slow deliberateness, that was unusual to her. + +"They are sick children," said I. + +"Sick, it may be, unto death." + +There was no emotion in her voice. + +I looked at her without replying. + +"I can see them die, Doctor, if that must be." + +Oh, that icy coldness of manner, how it chilled me! + +"No hand but mine shall tend them now, Doctor. They have been long +enough in the care of others--neglected--almost forgotten--by their +unworthy mother. But in this painful extremity I will be near them. I +come back to the post of duty, even at this late hour, and all that is +left for me, that will I do." + +I was deeply touched by her words and manner. + +The latter softened a little as she uttered the closing sentence. + +"You look at the darkest side," I answered. "With God are the issues of +life. He calls us, our children, or our friends, in His own good time. +We cannot tell how any sickness will terminate; and hope for the best is +always our truest state." + +"I hope for the best," she replied; but with something equivocal in her +voice. + +"The best is life," I said, scarcely reflecting upon my words. + +"Not always," she returned, still speaking calmly. "Death is often the +highest blessing that God can give. It will be so in the present case." + +"Madam!" + +My tone of surprise did not move her. + +"It is simply true, Doctor," she made answer. "As things are now, and +as they promise to be in the future, the safest place for these helpless +innocents is in Heaven; and I feel that their best Friend is about to +remove them there through the door of sickness." + +I could not bear to hear her talk in this way. It sent cold chills +through me. So I changed the subject. + +On the next day, all the symptoms were unfavorable. Mrs. Dewey was calm +as when I last saw her; but it was plain from her appearance, that she +had taken little if any rest. Her manner towards the sick babes was full +of tenderness; but there was no betrayal of weakness or distress in +view of a fatal termination. She made no anxious inquiries, such as are +pressed on physicians in cases of dangerous illness; but received my +directions, and promised to give them a careful observance, with a +self-possession that showed not a sign of wavering strength. + +I was touched by all this. How intense must have been the suffering that +could so benumb the heart!--that could prepare a mother to sit by +the couch of her sick babes, and be willing to see them die! I have +witnessed many sad scenes in professional experience; but none so sad as +this. + +Steadily did the destroyer keep on with his work. There were none of +those flattering changes that sometimes cheat us into hopes of recovery, +but a regular daily accumulation of the most unfavorable symptoms. At +the end of a week, I gave up all hope of saving the children, and made +no more vain attempts to control a disease that had gone on from tie +beginning, steadily breaking away the foundations of life. To diminish +the suffering of my little patients, and make their passage from earth +to Heaven as easy as possible, was now my only care. + +On the mother's part, there was no sign of wavering. Patiently, +tenderly, faithfully did she minister to her little ones, night and day. +No lassitude or weariness appeared, though her face, which grew +paler and thinner every day, told the story of exhausting nature. She +continued in the same state of mind I have described; never for an +instant, as far as I could see, receding from a full consent to their +removal. + +One morning, in making my usually early call at the Allen House, I saw, +what I was not unprepared to see, a dark death sign on the door. + +"All over?" I said to the servant who admitted me. + +"Yes, sir, all is over," she replied. + +"Both gone?" + +"Yes, sir, both." + +Tears were in her eyes. + +"When did they die?" + +"About midnight." + +"At the same time?" + +"Yes, sir. Dear little souls! They went together." + +"I will go up to see them," said I. + +And the girl showed me to the room in which they were laid. The door was +closed. I opened it, and stepped in softly. The room was darkened; but +light came in through a small opening in the curtains at the top of the +window, and fell in a narrow circle around the spot where the bodies, +already in their snowy grave clothes, were laid. In a chair beside +them sat the mother. She was alone with her dead. I felt that I was an +intruder upon a sorrow too deep for tears or words; but it was too late +to recede. So I moved forward and stood by the bedside, looking down +upon the two white little faces, from which had passed every line of +suffering. + +Mrs. Dewey neither stirred nor spoke, nor in any way gave token that she +was aware of my presence in the room. I stood for over a minute looking +upon the sweet images before me--for in them, death had put on forms of +beauty--and still there was no movement on the part of Mrs. Dewey. Then, +feeling that she was with One who could speak to her heart by an inner +way, better than I could speak through the natural ear, I quietly +receded and left the apartment. As my eyes rested on her a moment, in +closing the door, I saw that her form remained as still as a statue. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +An hour later, when Constance went to see Mrs. Dewey, she found her in +a state of unconsciousness, nature having at last given way. Not long +after I left the house, her mother, on entering the room where the +children were laid out, found her insensible, lying across the bed, with +her dead babes clasped in her arms. + +Mrs. Floyd sent word for me to come and see her daughter, as she +continued in a lethargic state. I found her like one in a deep sleep, +only her breathing was light, and her pulse very feeble, but regular. +She was out of the reach of my skill, and in the hands of the Great +Physician. I could only trust the cure to Him. No medicine for the body +would be of any avail here. I called again in the afternoon; but found +no change. How little was there in the pale, pinched face that lay among +the white pillows, to remind me of the handsome, dashing Mrs. Dewey, of +a year gone by! + +"What do you think of her, Doctor?" + +Mrs. Floyd put the question. The tone had in it something that made me +look narrowly into the speaker's face. My ears had not deceived me. + +There was the wish in her heart that Delia might die! + +I was not surprised at this. And yet the revelation of such a state of +feeling, in so good and true a woman, as I had reason to know Mrs. Floyd +to be, made my heart bound with a throb of pain. + +Alas! alas! Into what unnatural conditions may not the mind fall, +through suffering that shuts out human hope! + +"Nature," said I, in answer to the question of Mrs. Floyd, "may be only +gathering up her powers after a long period of exhaustion. The strife +through which your daughter has passed--calmly passed to all external +seeming--has not been without a wasting of internal life. How she kept +on so evenly to the end, passes my comprehension. There is not one woman +in a thousand who could have so borne herself through to the final act. +It is meet that she should rest now." + +"If she were sleeping with her babes, happy would it be for her!" + +Tears fell over the face of Mrs. Floyd. + +"God knows what is best," I remarked. + +"She has nothing to live for in this world." A sob broke from its +repression, and heaved the mother's bosom. "O Doctor, if I saw the death +dews on her brow, I would not weep!" + +"Leave her, my dear friend," said I, "in the hands of Him who sees +deeper into the heart than it is possible for our eyes to penetrate. Her +feet have left the soft, flowery ways they trod for a time, and turned +into rough paths, where every footfall is upon sharp stones; but it +may be that a blessed land is smiling beyond, he has been astray in the +world, and God may only be leading her homeward by the way of sorrow." + +Mrs. Floyd wept freely as I talked. + +"His will be done," she said, sobbing. + +"Your daughter," said I, taking the occasion to bear my testimony on the +favorable side, "has been wronged without question. She was doubtless +imprudent, but not sinful; and the present attempt to disgrace her I +regard as a cruel wrong. It will recoil, I trust, in a way not dreamed +of." + +"O Doctor, let me thank you for such words." + +And Mrs. Floyd caught my arm with an eager movement. + +"I speak soberly, madam, and from observation and reflection. And I +trust to see Delia live and triumph over her enemies." + +"Won't you talk with the Squire, Doctor?" She still grasped my arm. "He +will not hear a word from me in favor of Delia. Mr. Dewey has completely +blinded him." + +"Wait patiently, Mrs. Floyd," said I, in a tone of encouragement. "Your +daughter is not without friends. There are those upon her side, who +have the will and the power to defend her; and they will defend her, I +believe successfully." + +A sigh fluttered through the room, causing us both to turn quickly +towards the bed on which Mrs. Dewey was lying. Her lips were moving +slightly; but no change appeared on her death-like face. I laid my +fingers upon her wrist, and searched for her pulse. It was very low and +thread-like; but with more vitality than on the occasion of my first +visit to her in the morning. + +"The signs are favorable." + +Mrs. Floyd did not respond. She was looking at her daughter with an +expression of unutterable grief upon her countenance. + +I did not attempt to give medicine, but left unerring nature to do her +own work. + +Mrs. Dewey did not again look upon the faces of her dead children. They +were buried ere her mind awoke to any knowledge of passing events. I +was at the funeral, and closely observed her husband. He appeared very +sober, and shed some tears at the grave, when the little coffins were +lowered together into the earth. + +It was a week before Mrs. Dewey was clearly conscious of external +things. I visited her every day, watching, with deep interest, her slow +convalescence. It was plain, as her mind began to recover its faculties, +that the memory of a sad event had faded; and I was anxious for the +effect, when this painful remembrance was restored. + +One day I found her sitting up in her room. She smiled feebly as I came +in, and said: + +"Doctor, am I never going to get well? It seems like an age since I +became sick." + +"You are getting on finely," I answered, in a cheerful way, sitting down +by her and taking her hand, which was wasted and shadowy. + +"I don't know about that, Doctor," she said. + +"What makes me so weak? I've no more strength than a babe. And that +reminds me of a frightful dream I had." And her countenance changed. + +"A dream?" I queried. + +"Yes; I thought Aggy and Lu were both dead! I saw them laid out, cold +and white as statues, just as plainly as I see you now." + +She stopped suddenly, an expression of fear going over her face--then +looked at me in a strange, questioning way. + +"Doctor"--she leaned towards me, with lips apart, and eyes full of a +sudden, wild alarm. I laid my hand upon her, and said: + +"You have been very ill for some time, Mrs. Dewey, and are too weak to +bear excitement. Don't let mere dreams disturb you." + +"Dreams?" Her eyes fell from mine. "Dreams?" she repeated. "I feel very +weak, Doctor," was added, after a few moments. "Won't you assist me to +lie down?" + +And she made a movement to rise. I took her arm and supported her to the +bed, where she quietly composed herself, and turned her face away, so as +almost to hide it from my view. At this moment Mrs. Floyd came in, and I +withdrew, leaving them together. + +Memory had been restored. The accompanying shock was severe, but not +heavy enough seriously to retard her recovery, which went on slowly. She +still remained at the Allen House, rarely meeting her husband, who now +spent a large part of his time in New York. + +The period fixed for a trial of the case between them was fast +approaching. He continued resolute, and she did not waver from her +purpose to defend her good name. The deep interest I took in the case, +led me to see Mr. Wallingford often, and make inquiry as to the evidence +which could be produced in Mrs. Dewey's favor, and the probable chances +of an honorable result. We both favored a settlement of the difficulty +without a trial and its consequent exposure, if that were possible. +But how to prevent this was the difficult question. Finally it was +determined to make a copy of the letter found by Mrs. Dewey, and enclose +it to her husband, giving him warning at the same time that the original +would be produced at the trial. + +Nothing was heard in response to this movement, until within a week +of the day on which the case was expected to come up, when Mr. Dewey's +lawyer called on Mr. Orton to know if it was still his intention to meet +them in open court and resist their application for a divorce. On being +assured that such was their purposes he expressed some regret at the +consequent damage to the lady's reputation, as they had evidence against +her of the most conclusive character. Finally he wished to know whether, +in case a new ground were taken--one not touching the lady's good +name--any opposition would be made. Mr. Orton said that he would consult +his client, and answer the query with as little delay as practicable. + +Mrs. Dewey expressed a willingness to remain passive, provided no +allegations were made in the new bill that even remotely cast a shadow +upon her virtue. + +But Mr. Wallingford, on taking the matter into further consideration, +advised a different course altogether--no less than an application +from the other side, on the ground of neglect, ill-treatment, and +constructive conjugal infidelity, based on the important letter already +referred to. Mrs. Dewey caught eagerly at this suggestion, as soon as it +was presented to her. If a divorce were thus obtained, her vindication +would be complete. + +The ranks of the enemy were thrown into confusion by this diversion. Mr. +Dewey was violent, and threatened most terrible consequences. But when +the time set for the case to come up arrived, he failed to appear. + +It was from the other side that the next movement came. A divorce was +applied for on the part of Mrs. Dewey, in a bill carefully drawn up +by Mr. Wallingford. It asked not only for a legal separation from +her husband, but for alimony, and the possession of the two remaining +children. An answer was filed; but it was of so feeble a character as to +amount to scarcely anything in the way of opposition. The chief argument +was directed against the claim for alimony. The result was as we had +anticipated. In the following spring a divorce was granted, and Mrs. +Dewey, with her two children, left the Allen House and returned to her +father's. The maintenance allowed by the court, was one thousand dollars +a year for herself, and five hundred a year for each of the children +during their minority. + +And so closed this exciting drama, begun in weakness, and ending in +hopeless disaster. Oh, a few years! How many broken hearts do they close +over? How many wrecks of goodly lives do they see scattered among the +breakers! + +The interposition of Mr. Wallingford, in this case, was so managed as to +keep him entirely out of sight, and Mrs. Dewey was never made aware of +the fact that he had rendered her a great service. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +We did not see a great deal of Mr. Dewey in S----for some months after +this. I heard it casually remarked that he was traveling in the South +and West, for a part of the time, on business. The large interests of +his firm involved in the two mills, however, made his presence necessary +among us, and late in the fall he came back, and remained through the +winter residing at the Allen House. + +In the spring a rumor got afloat that Mr. Dewey was soon to be married. +A lady in New York was mentioned; the same, it was said, to whom the +letter found by Mrs. Dewey was addressed. A few signs of renovation at +the Allen House gave confirmation of this rumor, which at length assumed +a more positive shape. + +The intimacy between Mrs. Wallingford and Constance, had grown into a +close interior friendship, and scarcely a week passed that an evening +was not spent by them together, sometimes at our house, and sometimes +at Ivy Cottage. Mr. Wallingford had developed into a man after my own +heart; and so I shared, when professional engagements allowed, in the +enjoyment of these pleasant seasons. + +One evening Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford came round to spend an hour with +us. I was happily at leisure. Conversation naturally falls into the +current of passing events, and on this occasion, the approaching +marriage of Mr. Dewey came naturally into the field of topics. This +led to a review of the many strange circumstances connected with Mrs. +Wallingford's presence in S----, and naturally, to an inquiry from my +wife as to the present position of the property left by Captain Allen. + +"What about this young Garcia?" said Constance, addressing Mr. +Wallingford. "I haven't heard of him for some time." + +"He is at school yet, I believe," replied Mr. Wallingford, not showing +much interest in the matter. + +"He must be nearly of age," said I. + +"About twenty, if his years were correctly given." + +"He will come into the possession of a handsome property," I remarked. + +"Yes, if it can be found by the time he is ready to receive it." + +"Can be found! I don't comprehend you, Mr. Wallingford? Do you mean to +question the integrity of the men who are executors to the estate?" + +"No. But, they have embarked in the same vessel with an unscrupulous +villain--so I regard Ralph Dewey--and have, as far as I can see, given +the rudder into his hands. If he do not wreck them on some dangerous +coast, or sunken rock, it will be more from good fortune than anything +else." + +"He is partner in a very wealthy firm," said I. + +"The standing of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., is, you know, undoubted. He +can't wreck out friends Bigelow and Floyd, without ruining them also." + +"I was in New York a few months ago, on business," Mr. Wallingford +replied, "and it so happened, that I heard the firm of which Dewey is a +partner spoken of. Among other remarks, was this: 'They are thought to +be very much extended.'" + +"What is the meaning of that?" asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +"It is understood in business circles," replied her husband, "to mean, +that a house is doing too much business for the amount of capital +employed, and that it has issued, in consequence, a large amount of +paper. Any very heavy losses to a firm in this condition might prove +disastrous." + +"Too much extended?" said I, thoughtfully, some new impressions forming +themselves in my mind. + +"Yes, that was the opinion held by the individual I refer to; and he was +not one to speak carelessly on so grave a matter." + +"If the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. should go down," I remarked, +"there will be sad work in S----." + +"There will, without any doubt," replied Mr. Wallingford. + +"The executors to the Allen estate might find themselves in a most +unfortunate position," said I. + +"Such a position as I would not be in, for all the world. Any thing but +dishonor!" + +"How dishonor?" asked Constance. + +"The whole estate would be, I fear, involved." + +"They gave security," said I. + +"But the sureties are not worth a tenth part of the sum for which they +stand responsible. The court acted with a singular want of discretion in +appointing them." + +"You don't mean to have us infer that Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd +have used the funds of this estate for their own purposes, to any great +extent?" + +"I would not care to say this out of doors, Doctor, but that is just my +opinion of the matter as it now stands. Dewey is guardian to the heir, +and would favor, rather than oppose, such a use of the funds." + +"It might be just so much in favor of the heir," remarked Mrs. +Wallingford, "if two-thirds of the property had disappeared by the time +he reached his majority; for, from all that I have heard of him, he is +not likely to become a man fitted to use large wealth either to his own +or any body else's advantage. He was low born and low bred, in the +worst sense of the words; and I fear that no education will change his +original quality, or greatly modify his early bias. So while the wasting +of his substance is a great wrong in the abstract, it may be a real +blessing to him. Events in this life work out strangely to our human +eyes, yet there is a Providence in them that ever educes good from +evil." + +"If we could always believe that," said I, "how tranquilly might we pass +through life! How clearly would our eyes see through the darkest clouds, +and rest upon the silver lining!" + +"Is it not so? Does not God's providence follow us in the smallest +things of our lives? Do we take a step that falls outside of his +cognizance? We have only to look back, to be assured of this. We may +walk on tranquilly, Doctor, for, as sure as we live, no evil can +befall us that does not have its origin within our own spirits. All the +machinations of our most bitter enemies will come to naught, if we keep +our hearts free from guile. They may rob us of our earthly possessions; +but even this God will turn to our greater gain." + +Mrs. Wallingford spoke with a charming enthusiasm. + +"With such a confidence," said my wife, "one is richer than if he had +the wealth of an Astor." + +"And with this great advantage," replied Mrs. Wallingford, "that he may +enjoy the whole of his possessions. Moth and rust never corrupt them; +and no man can take them away." + +"I have a new book from which I want to read you a sentiment," said +Constance, rising, and moving towards the secretary and book-case, which +stood in the room. + +Mrs. Wallingford rose and went with her. + +"It is so beautifully accordant with many things I have heard you say," +added my wife, as she took down the volume, and commenced turning over +its pages. + +After reading a few sentences, and commenting upon them, some remark +directed the attention of Mrs. Wallingford to the antiquated secretary, +which was the one I had purchased when the furniture of the Allen house +was sold. + +"I have reason to remember this old secretary," she said. "It was here +that the will was found which cut off our interest in the estate of my +uncle." + +As she spoke in a pleasant way, she pulled out a drawer--the very one +which had suggested concealment, when I first got possession of the +piece of furniture--and said-- + +"This is where the will lay concealed." + +And she pressed against the side firmly, when a portion of it yielded, +and there sprung up another drawer, or receptacle, placed in vertically. + +We were all very much interested in this curious arrangement. The drawer +could not be pulled out much beyond half its depth; the secret portion +lying within this limit. + +As I stood looking at the drawer, a sudden thought flashed through my +mind, and I pressed my hand against the other side. It began to yield! +I pressed harder, and up sprung a corresponding secret receptacle, from +which a paper fell out. A hard substance rattled on the solid wood. It +was a gold locket, tied with a piece of blue ribbon; and attached, with +a seal, to the folded paper. + +It was some moments before a hand reached forth to lift the document. +It was at length taken up by Mr. Wallingford. As he did so, the locket +swung free, and we saw that it contained a braid of dark hair. Unfolding +the paper, and stepping back to the light, he read, in a low, firm +voice, as follows: + +"I, John Allen, being of sound mind, do make this as my last will and +testament, revoking, at the same time, all other wills. I give and +bequeath all my property, real and personal, to my sister Flora, if +living; or, if dead, to her legal heirs--reserving only, for my wife, +Theresa Garcia, in case she survive me, a legacy of five hundred dollars +a year, to be continued during her natural life. And I name as +my executors, to carry out the provisions of this will, Doctor +Edward-----and James Wilkinson, of the town of S----, State of +Massachusetts." + +Then followed the date, which was recent, compared with that of the +other wills, and the signatures of the testator and witnesses, all in +due form. The witnesses were men in our town, and well known to us all. + +At the reading of her mother's name, Mrs. Wallingford sat down quickly, +and, covering her face, leaned over upon the centre table. I saw that +she was endeavoring to control a strong agitation. + +I was the first to speak. + +"The ways of Providence are past finding out," said I. "Let me +congratulate you on this good fortune." + +As I spoke, Mrs. Wallingford rose from the table, and, going to her +husband, placed her hands upon his arms, and looking up into his face, +fondly and tearfully, said:-- + +"Dear Henry! For your sake, my heart is glad to-night." + +He laid the will down, as if it were a thing of little value, and +kissing her, said:-- + +"This cannot add to our happiness, Blanche, and may bring care and +trouble." + +"Not more trouble than blessing," she replied, "if rightfully used." + +The locket attached to the will excited our curious interest. It was, we +felt sure, the same that Captain Allen's mother had sent to him by the +hands of Jacob Perkins. Doubtless, some memory of his mother, stirred by +the sight of this locket, had caused him to revoke his former will, and +execute this one in favor of his sister. There was no room to question, +for a moment, its genuineness. It had all legal formality, and the men +who witnessed the signature were living and well known to us all. I was +named as one of the executors. So there was some perplexing business +before me; for, in taking things as they were, it was not probable that +the executors under the former will would be able, promptly, to give a +satisfactory account of their trust, or to hand over the property in a +shape acceptable to the right heirs. + +But, of this, more anon. Our good friends went home early after this +singular discovery, showing more bewilderment than elation of manner. I +think that Constance and I were gladder in heart than they. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +The first thing done was to place the will on record; the next to give +proper legal notice of its existence to the executors under the previous +will, Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd. Mr. Dewey, on the announcement +of this discovery, unhesitatingly declared the paper a forgery; but the +witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen were living, and ready to +attest its genuineness. They remembered, very distinctly, the time when +their names were appended to the document. It was only a year before the +Captain's death. They were walking past the Allen House, when the old +man called them in, and asked them to witness the signing of a paper. Of +its contents they had no knowledge, as he did not make any communication +on the subject. But he signed it in their presence, and their signatures +showed this will to be the paper then executed. + +Notwithstanding this, it came to our ears, that Mr. Dewey persisted in +alleging fraud, forgery, and the complicity of these witnesses. And +from the manner of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, in the first brief +interview I had with them, it was plain that they were far from being +satisfied that all was right. Their manner was that of men utterly +confounded. If the property in question had been held by them as really +their own, they could hardly have exhibited more feeling. + +After the will was entered at the proper office, and thus made public, +the following paragraph appeared in our "Weekly Star"-- + +"_Remarkable Discovery of a Will._--A singular circumstance happened in +our town last week, no less than the discovery of a new and more recent +will of the late Captain Allen, by which all of his large property is +devised to his sister and her heirs. It was found in a secret drawer, +contained in an antiquated French Secretary, which Dr.----bought when +the furniture of the Allen House was sold, previous to a renovation +of the old mansion for the residence of Mr. Ralph Dewey. The late Mrs. +Montgomery, who resided for a time at the Allen House, was sister to +Captain Allen, and her daughter is now the wife of our townsman, Henry +Wallingford, Esq. We congratulate the parties on the good fortune which +has come to their door." + +The marriage of Mr. Dewey took place within a month after the discovery +of this will, and he brought his new wife to S----, installing her as +mistress of the Allen House. She was a showy woman, past thirty, with +a pair of brilliant black eyes, and a dark, rich complexion. Her long, +thin nose, and delicate, but proudly arching lips, showed her to possess +will and determination. It was the rumor in S----, that she brought her +husband a considerable fortune. But she was not well received among us. +The families of Judge Bigelow, and Joshua Kling, Cashier of the Clinton +Bank, called immediately. Something later called the wives of two +Directors in the Bank, and afterwards the wives of one or two citizens +who had embarked some capital in the cotton mills. Beyond this, no +advances were made towards an acquaintance with the new Mrs. Dewey. + +It shocked my sensibilities to see this woman dashing about through +S----in the elegant equipage once the pride of the now humbled daughter +of Squire Floyd, who, since the divorce granted on her application, had +lived in strict retirement in her father's house. The only time when she +was seen abroad, was on the Sabbath, at church, with her two children. +The oldest, a daughter, in her thirteenth year; and the youngest, a boy, +ten years of age. The terrible ordeal passed through by this unhappy +woman, had told upon her severely. In a year, she seemed to have lived +ten. All the fine roundness of her face and person had given way, and +she presented the appearance of one who had come out of a long and +exhausting illness. + +Constance made it a point of duty to visit her often. She found her +states of mind exceedingly variable. Sometimes she was in patient, +tranquil states, and sometimes she manifested great bitterness of +spirit, complaining of man's cruel selfishness, and God's injustice. +The marriage of Mr. Dewey disturbed her considerably. One day, not long +after this event, Constance called to see her. She was in one of her +darker moods; and all the comforting suggestions which my good wife +could make, seemed to go for nothing. They were sitting near a window, +overlooking the street, when Delia suddenly turned pale, and caught her +breath. A carriage went sweeping by at the moment, drawn by two spirited +horses. + +"Is that the woman?" she exclaimed, as soon as she recovered herself. + +"That is the woman," Constance replied. + +Delia clutched her hands so tightly that her arms quivered, and grew +rigid; while her pale face darkened with an expression so like revenge, +that Constance felt a shudder of fear in her heart. + +"If my prayers for her are answered," said the excited woman, speaking +through her closing teeth, "she will find that day the darkest in the +calendar of her life, when she stepped between me and my husband. I have +only curses for her in my heart. Only curses!" + +Constance, startled, and almost frightened by this wild burst of +feeling, endeavored to soothe her; but the storm was too fierce to own +the power of her gentle persuasions, and raged on for its brief season. + +"I thought her mind had given way," said my wife, on relating what she +had seen and heard. "It was fearful to look upon a human creature so +terribly moved." + +"The trial to her feelings must have been very.... [Gap in original] + +"But I thought the severe discipline through which she had passed, had +chastened and subdued her," answered Constance. "I saw, or believed that +I saw, the beginnings of a new and true life in her soul. But over all +this, passion has swept with its besom of destruction." + +"The better states," I replied, "may not have been destroyed in this +evil whirlwind. Such states, when once formed, usually retire and hide +themselves until the storm has spent its fury." + +"I pray that it may be so in this case," said Constance. "But from what +I saw to-day, my fears are on the other side." + +In the mean time we were taking such steps as the responsibility of our +position required, towards getting possession of the property, +which, under the will of Captain Allen, must come into our hands. My +co-executor, Mr. James Wilkinson, a merchant of S----, was for adopting +the most summary proceedings. He was annoyed at the questions, doubts, +and delays which Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd permitted to intervene; +and more especially by the intermeddling of Dewey, towards whom, from +some cause, he entertained hostile feeling. + +As a matter of course, we were guided in all our movements by Mr. +Wallingford. At the earliest term of court, we brought forward the claim +of Mrs. Wallingford, under the last will and testament of her uncle. +A feeble effort was made to throw doubt upon the genuineness of the +document; but the oath of the witnesses to the signature of Captain +Allen settled the question beyond the reach of cavil, and the executors +under the first will were ordered to transfer, by a certain date, all +property belonging to the estate into our hands. + +I saw plainly enough, from the beginning, that the idea of giving an +account of their stewardship was not an agreeable one to either of the +executors under the old will. The direction which the property must take +was one that would not admit of any holding back or covering up on their +part. They would be required to exhibit clean hands. + +The property clearly shown as having passed into their possession, was +the old mansion and valuable grounds, which had been sold, under an +order of the court, at a heavy sacrifice--bringing only thirty-five +thousand dollars, instead of sixty thousand, its real value--and the +proceeds re-invested. Then there was other town property worth twenty +thousand dollars, and stocks valued at as much more: making seventy-five +thousand dollars in all as the principal. Interest added, would swell +the sum for which they must give account to over one hundred thousand +dollars. + +It was found, on looking into the business, that the whole of this +immense sum was invested in the cotton mills. The search made into the +legal condition of these mill properties was not satisfactory. There +were several mortgages against them, one of which, for twenty-five +thousand dollars, was held by the Clinton Bank as collateral security +for loans. + +After various delays and failures on the part of the old executors to +meet us in a satisfactory manner, we all assembled, by appointment, in +the office of Judge Bigelow. Mr. Dewey I was surprised to find present. +But it was plain that he was there either by the consent or request +of the Judge and Squire. The court had given a certain time for the +executors under the first will to make up their accounts, and hand over +the property in trust. That time had expired. + +There was manifest embarrassment on the part of Judge Bigelow and his +associate; while Dewey looked stern and dogged. We soon got into +the centre of the business, and found it pretty earnest work. It was +admitted by the executors that the greater portion of the estate was in +the cotton mills. How to get it out was the question. + +"I had always understood," said Mr. Wallingford, "that the mills were +chiefly owned in New York." + +"The New York interest is large," replied Squire Floyd, in a husky +voice. + +"And can be increased, no doubt, to almost any extent, in order to +enable you to withdraw the trust investments," resumed Mr. Wallingford. + +"Why cannot you let it remain where it is for the present? The +investment is safe and the interest sure," said Judge Bigelow. + +"There isn't safer security in the state," spoke up Mr. Dewey, with +animation. + +"It isn't the kind of security we wish to hold," said Mr. Wilkinson +firmly. "We have given heavy bonds, and prefer to get the property in a +different shape." + +Here followed a chilling silence, which was broken by Mr. Wallingford. + +"There is one way in which this can be arranged," said he. + +All eyes were turned upon him. + +"If it is not convenient to transfer to new parties interests of such +magnitude, we will take, at a fair valuation, the Allen House and +grounds appertaining thereto, including the mill site." + +Mr. Dewey was on his feet in a moment, and said-- + +"Never!" with considerable excitement of manner. + +Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd looked at each other in a bewildered +manner, and then at Mr. Dewey, who was walking the floor with many signs +of disturbance. + +"This is the family property," continued Mr. Wallingford, coolly--"and +ought never to have been sold. It is but fair that it should come back." + +"It can't go back," spoke up Mr. Dewey. "The present owners will not let +it pass out of their hands." + +"If that is the case," said Mr. Wallingford, "we shall have to look in +another direction. It occurred to me that this might suit all parties, +and lead to an easy arrangement. But if that cannot be--if the present +owners, to use Mr. Dewey's words, will not let it go back--then my +suggestion falls to the ground, and we must look to the investments as +they stand. We do not press the matter." + +I observed Mr. Dewey closely; the amount of feeling he displayed having +drawn my attention upon him. Once or twice I saw him dart malignant +glances towards Mr. Wallingford. And so, by degrees, I began to have +a glimpse of what was passing in his mind. To go out from that elegant +home, and let Wallingford succeed him as the owner, was something to +which his proud heart could not submit--Wallingford, the once despised +and contemned student of his uncle! That was too bitter a humiliation. + +As nothing could then be decided, another meeting, to take place in +three or four days, was agreed upon, and we separated. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +As my profession kept me going about all the while, I had opportunities +for observing the movements of other people. The day following the +meeting referred to in the last chapter, I saw Dewey, the Judge, and +the Squire together several times, and always in earnest talk. As I came +home, towards evening, I saw them all entering Mr. Dewey's residence. It +was plain that there was trouble in the camp. + +On the next day, Mr. Dewey left town. I noticed him going into a car at +the depot. When the time came for our meeting, a postponement was asked +for. I felt like demurring, but Mr. Wallingford readily consented. + +"Give them a little more time," said he, as we walked away from Judge +Bigelow's office. "It will come out as we desired. The easiest way for +them to arrange with us, is to let us have the Allen House property, +which is owned by the firm of which Dewey is a member; and it is with a +view to this, I have no doubt, that he is now in New York." + +So we waited a few days longer. The return of Mr. Dewey took place in +the course of a week, when I received a note from Judge Bigelow, asking +a private interview. I found him and his nephew alone. They received me +in a pleasant, affable way; and the Judge said that he wished to have +a little talk with me before another formal meeting of the executors. +I answered that it would give me pleasure to confer with him; though I +could neither accept nor propose any thing, standing alone. + +"It is not with a view to that, Doctor," replied the Judge, his +countenance putting on a shade of gravity that nearly obliterated the +smiles with which he at first received me. "But I thought it might +help to a better issue, if two of the parties representing the opposite +interests in this case were to have a little informal conversation." + +"I am ready to hear any thing you have to say, Judge, and shall be very +happy if I can aid, in any thing, the satisfactory adjustment of these +matters." My answer, I thought, appeared to give him confidence, and he +said-- + +"Without doubt you can aid, Doctor. The position in which Squire Floyd +and myself find ourselves placed, is one of some embarrassment. In +making investments of the property which came into our hands, we had +reference, of course, to its security and productiveness; at the same +time looking to a period, still some years in advance, when our trust +would cease, and the property pass in due course to the heir-at-law. To +realize on these investments now, would be to damage the interests of +others; and I cannot feel that it would be right for you to urge this. +The discovery of a new will, bearing a later date, is a thing wholly +unexpected. We had no warning to prepare for the summary action growing +out of its appearance, and, as I have just intimated, cannot proceed +without injury to others." + +"I do not believe," said Mr. Dewey, "that the court, if the case was +fairly stated, would require this speedy settlement of the trust. And it +is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a new award as +to time. A year longer should be conceded to the executors under the old +will." + +"That would be equitable," said the Judge. + +"I am afraid," I made answer to this, "that Mr. Wallingford will not +consent to any postponement." + +"He won't? The hound!" I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey's +tone of voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance an +expression of malignant hatred. + +"Ralph!" said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice. + +"I can't repress my indignation," answered the nephew. "What demons from +the nether hell have conspired to give _him_ power over us? If it had +been any other man in the world I could have borne it patiently." + +"Ralph! Ralph!" interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice. + +"It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling," was replied. "To +see you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything." + +"Pardon me, Mr. Dewey," said I, "but I cannot hear such language used +towards a gentleman of irreproachable character. Mr. Wallingford is not +entitled to the epithet you give; and I warn you, not to repeat that, or +anything like it, in my presence." + +"You warn me!" + +A gleam shot towards me from his evil eyes. + +"Ralph! silence!" The Judge spoke sternly. + +"Yes, in all soberness, I warn you," said I, fixing my gaze upon him, +and holding his eyes until they fell to the floor. "Mr. Wallingford is +not the man to permit any one to use language about him, such as you +have indulged in. If you make use of another opprobrious epithet, I will +communicate the fact to him immediately. And let me say, that, unless +a different temper is manifested, I must terminate this interview at +once." + +Judge Bigelow drew his nephew aside, and talked for some time with him, +in a low, earnest tone; after which the latter apologized, though with +an ill grace, for the intemperance of his manner--alleging that an old +wound smarted whenever Wallingford crossed his path. + +The result of this confidential talk was not as favorable on my mind as +Judge Bigelow had hoped to make it. I pitied his embarrassment; but the +conduct of Dewey confirmed my previous view of the case, which was to +require a transfer of the property specified by Mr. Wallingford, or +press for an immediate foreclosure of the mill investments. There was, I +felt satisfied, hazard in delay. + +When our next formal meeting took place, Dewey was again present. It was +in my thought to suggest that he was not a party covered by the business +to be considered, when Mr. Wallingford said, in his mild, grave way-- + +"I believe this is a meeting of the Executors under the two wills of +Captain Allen." + +The meaning of his remark could not be misunderstood, for he glanced +towards Mr. Dewey as he spoke. That individual, however, did not choose +to regard himself as referred to, and made no sign. But Mr. Wallingford +was not the man to let a deliberate purpose fall to the ground. He +had come with the intention of objecting to Dewey's presence at the +conference, and to insist upon his retiring, as a preliminary to +business. + +No one replying to Mr. Wallingford's remark, he said, further-- + +"I do not mean to be uncourteous, but I must suggest the propriety of +Mr. Dewey's withdrawal." + +"I am an interested party," said Dewey, with ill-concealed anger. + +"Ah! I was not before aware of this," replied Wallingford, and he +looked inquiringly towards the Judge and Squire. They showed an uneasy +perplexity of manner, but did not respond. + +"In what way are you interested?" queried Mr. Wallingford. + +"I am one of the guardians to the heir under an existing will." + +"A will that the decision of our court has rendered null and void," was +promptly answered. "We have not met to consider questions in which Leon +Garcia, or his representative, has any concern. Our business refers to +other matters." + +Dewey moved uneasily, and seemed struggling to keep down his rising +displeasure. But he did not, manifest any intention to withdraw. + +"Had we not better proceed to business?" suggested Squire Floyd. + +"Not while Mr. Dewey remains," said I, firmly taking the side of Mr. +Wallingford. + +"Somebody will repent himself of this!" exclaimed the ill-governed man, +passionately, starting to his feet, and striding from the office. + +"I don't understand this individual's conduct," remarked Wallingford, in +a serious way. "Why has he presumed to intermeddle in our business? It +has a bad look." + +He knit his brows closely, and put on a stern aspect, very unusual to +him. + +"You probably forget," said Judge Bigelow, "that you have proposed a +change of ownership in property now occupied by him?" + +"That was simply to give you more latitude in settling up the estate +in your hands. I said we were willing to accept that property at a fair +valuation, thinking it would offer a desirable mode of liquidation. It +is for you to say yea or nay to us; not Ralph Dewey. If you cannot gain +his consent to the transfer, there is an end of that proposal." + +I really commiserated the embarrassment shown by the Judge and Squire. +They seemed to be in a maze, without perceiving the right way of +extrication. Dewey appeared to have over them some mysterious influence, +above which they had not power to rise. + +"If Ralph will not consent--" + +"Ralph must consent!" exclaimed Squire Floyd, with a sudden energy of +manner, and the exhibition of a degree of will not shown before. "Ralph +_must_ consent! The mode of adjustment proposed by Mr. Wallingford is +the one easiest for us to accomplish, and I shall insist on Dewey's +giving up his opposition. There is a vast deal more of pride than +principle involved in his objection." + +The Squire was breaking away from his fetters. + +"It is plain," added Squire Floyd, "that his partners wish that property +to go in preference to any other. And it must go." + +This was a style of remark quite unexpected on our part; and only added +firmness to our purpose. The interview was not prolonged in discussion. +We merely reaffirmed our ultimatum, and gave one week for the two men to +decide in what manner to close their trust. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +The decision was as I expected it to be; and the old property came back +into the family. There were few hearts in S----, that did not beat with +pleasure, when it was known that Mr. Wallingford and his lovely wife +were to pass from Ivy Cottage to the stately Allen House. + +I think the strife between Mr. Dewey and the old executors was severe, +and that he yielded only when he saw that they were immovable. An +open rupture with Squire Floyd was a consequence of his persistent +determination to have the Allen property transferred; and after the +settlement of this business, they held no personal communication with +each other. + +The change in Mr. Dewey's appearance, after it became a settled thing +that he must remove from the splendid mansion he had occupied for years, +was remarkable. He lost the impressive swagger that always said, "I am +the first man in S----;" and presented the appearance of one who +had suffered some great misfortune, without growing better under the +discipline. He did not meet you with the free, open, better-than-you +look that previously characterized him, but with a half sidelong falling +of the eyes, in which there was, to me, something very sinister. + +As far as our observation went, Mr. Wallingford put on no new phase of +character. There was about him the same quiet, thoughtful dignity of +manner which had always commanded involuntary respect. He showed no +unseemly haste in dispossessing Mr. Dewey of his elegant home. Two +months after the title deeds had passed, I called in at Ivy Cottage, now +one of the sweetest, little places in S----, for Constance, who had +been passing the evening there. Not in any home, through all the region +round, into which it was my privilege to enter, was there radiant, like +a warm, enticing atmosphere that swelled your lungs with a new vitality, +and gave all your pulses a freer beat, such pure love--maternal and +conjugal--as pervaded this sanctuary of the heart. I say maternal, +as well as conjugal, for two dear babes had brought into this home +attendant angels from the higher heaven. + +A soft astral lamp threw its mellow rays about the room. Mr. Wallingford +had a book open in his hand, from which he had been reading aloud to his +wife and Constance. He closed the volume as I entered, and rising, took +my hand, saying, with even more than his usual cordiality-- + +"Now our circle is complete." + +"Excuse me from rising, Doctor," said Mrs. Wallingford, a smile of +welcome giving increased beauty to her countenance, as she offered the +hand that was free--the other held her babe, just three months old, +tenderly to her bosom. + +"What have you been reading?" I asked, as I seated myself, and glanced +towards the volume which Mr. Wallingford had closed and laid upon the +table. + +"A memorable relation of the Swedish Seer," he replied, smiling. + +"Touching marriage in heaven," said I, smiling in return. + +"Or, to speak more truly," he replied, "the union of two souls in +heaven, into an eternal oneness. Yes, that was the subject, and it +always interests me deeply. Our life here is but a span, and our brief +union shadowed by care, pain, sickness, and the never-dying fear of +parting. The sky of our being is not unclouded long. And therefore I +cannot believe that the blessedness of married love dies forever at the +end of this struggle to come into perfect form and beauty. No, Doctor; +the end is not here. And so Blanche and I turn often with an eager +delight to these relations, feeling, as we read, that they are not mere +pictures of fancy, but heavenly verities. They teach us that if we +would be united in the next world, we must become purified in this. +That selfish love, which is of the person must give place to a love for +spiritual qualities. That we must grow in the likeness and image of God, +if we would make one angel in His heavenly kingdom." + +His eyes rested upon Blanche, as he closed the sentence, with a look +full of love; and she, as if she knew that the glance was coming, turned +and received it into her heart. + +I did not question the faith that carried them over the bounds of time, +and gave them delicious foreshadowings of the blessedness beyond. As I +looked at them, and marked how they seemed to grow daily into a oneness +of spirit, could I doubt that there was for them an eternal union? No, +no. Such doubts would have been false to the instincts of my own soul, +and false to the instincts of every conscious being made to love and be +loved. + +"The laying aside of this earthly investiture," said Wallingford, +resuming, "the passage from mortal to immortal life, cannot change our +spirits, but only give to all their powers a freer and more perfect +development. Love is not a quality of the body, but of the spirit, and +will remain in full force, after the body is cast off like the shell of +a chrysalis. Still existing, it will seek its object. And shall it seek +forever and not find? God forbid! No! The love I bear my wife is not, +I trust, all of the earth, earthy; but instinct with a heavenly +perpetuity. And when we sleep the sleep of death, it will be in the +confident assurance of a speedy and more perfect conjunction of our +lives. On a subject of such deep concern, we are dissatisfied with the +vague and conjectural; and this is why the record of things seen and +heard in the spiritual world by Swedenborg--especially in what relates +to marriages in heaven--has for us such an absorbing interest." + +"Are you satisfied with the evidence?" I ventured to inquire, seeing him +so confident. + +"Yes." + +He answered quietly, and with an assured manner. + +"How do you reach a conclusion as to the truth of these things?" + +"Something after the same way that you satisfy yourself that the sun +shines." + +"My eyes testify to me that fact. Seeing is believing," I answered. + +"The spirit of a man has eyes as well as his body," said Wallingford. +"And seeing is believing in another sense than you intimate. Now +the bodily eyes see material objects, and the mind, receiving their +testimony, is in no doubt as to the existence, quality, and relation of +things in the outer world. The eyes of our spirits, on the other hand, +see immaterial objects or truths; and presenting them to the rational +and perceptive faculties, they are recognized as actual existences, and +their quality as surely determined as the quality of a stone or metal. +If you ask me how I know that this is quartz, or that iron; I answer, By +the testimony of my eyes. And so, if you ask how I satisfy myself as to +the truth of which I read in this book; I can only reply that I see it +all so clearly that conviction is a necessity. There is no trouble in +believing. To attempt disbelief, would be to illustrate the fable of +Sisyphus." + +He spoke calmly, like one whose mind had risen above doubt. I objected +nothing further; for that would have been useless. And why attempt to +throw questions into his mind? Was there anything evil in the faith +which he had adopted as exhibited in his life? I could not say yes. On +the contrary, taking his life as an illustration, good only was to be +inferred. I remembered very well when his mind diverged into this +new direction. Some years had intervened. I thought to see him +grow visionary or enthusiastic. Not so, however. There was a change +progressively visible; but it was in the direction of sound and rational +views of life. A broader humanity showed itself in his words and +actions. Then came the subtler vein of religious sentiments, running +like pure gold through all that appertained to him. + +If, therefore, he was progressing towards a higher life, why should I +question as to the way being right for him? Why should I seek to turn +him into another path when there was such a broad light for his eyes on +the one he had chosen? "By their fruits ye shall know them." And by his +fruits I knew him to be of that highest type of manhood, a Christian +gentleman. + +I noticed, while Mr. Wallingford spoke so confidently of their reunion +in heaven, that his wife leaned towards, and looked at him, with eyes +through which her soul seemed going forth into his. + +As the conversation flowed on, it gradually involved other themes, and +finally led to the question On my part, as to when they were going to +leave Ivy Cottage. + +"That is quite uncertain," replied Mr. Wallingford. "I shall not hurry +the present occupant. We have been so happy here, that we feel more +inclined to stay than to remove to a more ambitious home." + +"I hear that Mr. Dewey is going to build," said I. + +"Where?" + +"He has been negotiating for the property on the elevation west of the +Allen House." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes. The price of the ground, five acres, is ten thousand dollars." + +"The site is commanding and beautiful. The finest in S----, for one +who thinks mainly of attracting the attention of others," said Mr. +Wallingford. + +"If he builds, we shall see something on a grander scale than anything +yet attempted in our neighborhood. He will overshadow you." + +"The rivalry must be on his side alone," was Mr. Wallingford's reply. +"No elegance or imposing grandeur that he may assume, can disturb me in +the smallest degree. I shall only feel pity for the defect of happiness +that all his blandishments must hide." + +"A splendid Italian villa is talked of." + +Mr. Wallingford shook his head. + +"You doubt all this?" said I. + +"Not the man's ambitious pride; but his ability to do what pride +suggests. He and his compeers are poorer, by a hundred thousand dollars, +than they deemed themselves a few short months ago." + +"Have they met with heavy losses?" I asked, not understanding the drift +of his remark. + +"The estate in trust has been withdrawn." + +"How should that make them poorer?" + +"It makes them poorer, in the first place, as to the means for carrying +on business. And it makes them poorer, in the second place, in the loss +of an estate, which, I am sorry to believe, Mr. Dewey and a part of his +New York associates regarded as virtually their own. + +"But the heir was approaching his majority," said I. + +"And growing up a weak, vicious, self-indulgent young man, who, in the +hands of a shrewd, unscrupulous villain, might easily be robbed of his +fortune. You may depend upon it, Doctor, that somebody has suffered a +terrible disappointment, and one from which he is not likely soon to +recover. No--no! We shall see nothing of this princely Italian villa." + +"I cannot believe," I replied, "that the executors who had the estate in +trust were influenced by dishonorable motives. I know the men too well." + +"Nor do I, Doctor," he answered, promptly. "But, as I have before said, +they were almost wholly under the influence of Dewey, and I think that +he was leading them into mazes from which honorable extrication would +have been impossible." + +"Have you given Dewey any notice of removal?" I inquired. + +"No--and shall not, for some time. I am in no hurry to leave this place, +in which the happiest days of my life have passed. Any seeming eagerness +to dispossess him, would only chafe a spirit in which I would not +needlessly excite evil passions. His pride must, I think, lead him at a +very early day to remove, and thus make a plain way before me." + +"How long will you wait?" I asked. + +"Almost any reasonable time." + +"You and he might not take the same view of what was reasonable," said +I. + +"Perhaps not. But, as I remarked just now, being in no hurry to leave +our present home, I shall not disturb him for some months to come. No +change will be made by us earlier than next spring. And if he wishes to +spend the winter in his present abode, he is welcome to remain." + +There was no assumed virtuous forbearance in all this; but a sincere +regard for the feelings and comfort of Dewey. This was so apparent, that +I did not question for a moment his generous consideration of a man who +would not have hesitated, if the power were given, to crush him to the +very earth. + +Many thoughts passed in my mind, as I pondered the incidents and +conversation of this evening. In looking back upon life, we see the sure +progress of causes to effects; and in the effects, the quality of the +causes. We no longer wonder at results--the only wonder is, that they +were not foreseen. Wise maxims, some of the garnered grains of our +fathers' experiences, are scattered through the books we read, and daily +fall from the lips of teachers and friends; maxims which, if observed, +would lead us to honor and happiness. But who gives them heed? Who makes +them the rule of his conduct? + +We might wonder less at the blind infatuation with which so many press +onward in a course that all the wisdom of the past, as well as all the +reason of the present, condemns, if it were possible to rub out our +actions, as a child rubs from his slate a wrong sum, and begin the work +of life over again. But this cannot be. We weave hourly the web that is +to bind us in the future. Our to-days hold the fate of our to-morrows. +What we do is done for ever, and in some degree will affect us +throughout infinite ages. + +"Poor Delia Floyd!" My thought had turned to her as I lay awake, +long after the small hours of the morning, busy with incidents and +reflections which had completely banished sleep from my eyes. In the +strong pity of my heart, I spoke the words aloud. + +"What of her?" said Constance, in a tone of surprise. And so intruding +thought had kept her awake also! + +"Nothing more than usual," I answered. "But I cannot sleep for thinking +of her unhappy state, and what she might have been, if obeying her own +heart's right impulses, and the reason God gave her, she had accepted +a true man, instead of a specious villain for her husband. The scene in +Ivy Cottage to-night stands in most remarkable contrast with some things +I witnessed at the Allen House before she went out thence a wretched +woman for life. She staked everything on a desperate venture, and has +lost. God pity her! for there is no help in any human arm. To think of +what she is, and what she might have been, is enough to veil her reason +in midnight darkness." + +"Amen! God pity her!" said Constance. "For truly there is no help for +her in mortal arm." + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +The conduct of Mr. Wallingford, in regard to the estate which had +fallen into his hands, rather puzzled Dewey. He had anticipated an early +notification to remove, and, true to his character, had determined +to annoy the new owner by vexatious delays. But after the passage of +several weeks, in which came to him no intimation that he must give up +the possession of his elegant home, he began to wonder what it could +mean. + +One day, not long after the conversation with Wallingford, mentioned in +the last chapter, I met Mr. Dewey in the street. He stopped me and said, +in half-sneering way, + +"What of our honorable friend? Impatient, I suppose, to see the inside +of the Allen House?" + +"No," I replied, "he has no wish to disturb you for the present." + +"Indeed! You expect me to believe all that, of course." + +There was a rudeness in his manner that was offensive; but I did not +care to let him see that I noticed it. + +"Why should you not believe my remark?" said I. "Is it a new thing in +your experience with men to find an individual considerate of another?" + +"What do you mean by considerate of another?" + +My form of speech touched his pride. + +"Mr. Wallingford has manifested towards you a considerate spirit," said +I, speaking slowly and distinctly. "It naturally occurs to him that, +as you are so pleasantly situated at the Allen House, an early removal +therefrom might be anything but desirable. And so he has rested quietly +up to this time, leaving a decision as to the period with yourself." + +"Humph! Very unselfish, truly!" + +His lip curled in disdain. + +"If you feel restive under this concession in your favor," said I, +putting on a serious manner, "I would suggest independence as a remedy." + +He looked at me curiously, yet with a scowling contraction of his brows. + +"Independence! What am I to understand by your remark?" + +"Simply this, Mr. Dewey. You are in the occupancy of property belonging +to Mr. Wallingford, and by his favor. Now, if you cannot receive a +kindness at his hands, in the name of all that is manly and independent, +put yourself out of the range of obligation." + +I was not able to repress a sudden feeling of indignation, and so spoke +with warmth and plainness. + +"Thank you for your plainness of speech, Doctor," he retorted, drawing +himself up in a haughty manner. + +"As to removing from the Allen House, I will do that just when it suits +my pleasure." + +"Mr. Wallingford, you may be assured," said I, "will not show any +unseemly impatience, if you do not find it convenient to make an early +removal. He knows that it cannot be agreeable for you to give up the +home of years, and he is too much of a Christian and a gentleman to do +violence to another's feelings, if it can be in any way avoided." + +"Pah! I hate cant!" + +He threw his head aside in affected disgust. + +"We judge men by their actions, not their words," said I. "If a man +acts with considerate kindness, is it cant to speak of him in terms of +praise? Pardon me, Mr. Dewey, but I think you are letting passion blind +you to another's good qualities." + +"The subject is disagreeable to me, Doctor. Let us waive it." + +"It was introduced by yourself, remember," I replied; "and all that I +have said has been in response to your own remarks. This much good has +grown from it. You know just how Mr. Wallingford stands towards you, and +you can govern yourself according to your own views in the case. And now +let me volunteer this piece of advice. Never wantonly give offence to +another, for you cannot tell how soon you may find yourself in need of +his good services." + +Dewey gave me a formal bow, and passed on his way. + +About a week afterwards, Judge Bigelow inquired of Wallingford as to +when he wished to get possession of the Allen House. + +"Whenever Mr. Dewey finds it entirely convenient to remove," was the +unhesitating reply. + +"Suppose it should not be convenient this fall or winter?" + +"Very well. The spring will suit me. I am in no hurry. We are too +comfortable in Ivy Cottage to be in any wise impatient for change." + +"Then it is your pleasure that Mr. Dewey remain until spring?" + +"If such an arrangement is desirable on his part, Judge, it is +altogether accordant with my feelings and convenience. Say to him that +he has only to consult his own wishes in the case." + +"You are kind and considerate, Mr. Wallingford," said the Judge, his +manner softening considerably, for there had been a coldness of some +years' standing on the part of Judge Bigelow, which more recent events +had increased. + +"And why should it be otherwise, Judge?" inquired his old student. + +"Mr. Dewey has not given you cause for either kindness or +consideration." + +"It would hurt me more than it would him, were I to foster his unhappy +spirit. It is always best, I find, Judge, to be right with myself." + +"All men would find it better for themselves, were they to let so fine +a sentiment govern their lives," remarked Judge Bigelow, struck by the +language of Wallingford. + +"It is the only true philosophy," was replied. "If a man is right with +himself, he cannot be wrong towards others; though it is possible, as in +my case, that other eyes, looking through a densely refracting medium, +may see him out of his just position. But he would act very unwisely +were he to change his position for all that. He will be seen right in +the end." + +Judge Bigelow reached out his hand and grasped that of Mr. Wallingford. + +"Spoken like a man, Henry! Spoken like a man!" he said, warmly. "I only +wish that Ralph had something of your spirit. I have seen you a little +out of your right position, I believe; but a closer view is correcting +the error." + +Wallingford returned the pressure as warmly as it was given, saying, as +he did so-- + +"I am aware, Judge, that you have suffered your mind to fall into a +state of prejudice in regard to me. But I am not aware of any thing +in my conduct towards you or others, to warrant the feeling. If in any +thing I have been brought into opposition, faithfulness to the interests +I represented has been the rule of my conduct. I have sought by no trick +of law to gain an advantage. The right and the just I have endeavored +to pursue, without fear and without favor. Can you give me a better rule +for professional or private life?" + +"I cannot, Henry," was the earnest reply. "And if all men would so +pursue the right and the just, how different would be the result for +each, as the sure adjustment of advancing years gave them their true +places in the world's observation!" + +The Judge spoke in a half--absent way, and with a shade of regret in his +tones; Wallingford noted this with a feeling of concern. + +"Let us be friends in the future," he added, again offering his hand to +Wallingford. + +"It will be your fault, not mine, if we are not fast fiends, Judge. I +have never forgotten the obligations of my boyhood; and never ceased +to regret the alienation you have shown. To have seemed in your eyes +ungrateful, has been a source of pain whenever I saw or thought of you." + +The two men parted, each feeling better for the interview. A day or two +afterwards Wallingford received a note from Judge Bigelow asking him, +as a particular favor, to call at his office that evening. He went, +of course. The Judge was alone, and received him cordially. But, his +countenance soon fell into an expression of more than usual gravity. + +"Mr. Wallingford," he said, after the passage of a few casual +observations, "I would like to consult you in strict confidence on some +matters in which I have become involved. I can trust you, of course?" + +"As fully as if the business were my own," was the unhesitating answer. + +"So I have believed. The fact is, Henry, I have become so entangled in +this cotton mill business with Squire Floyd, Dewey, and others, that I +find myself in a maze of bewildering uncertainty. The Squire and Ralph +are at loggerheads, and seem to me to be getting matters snarled up. +There is no denying the fact that this summary footing of our accounts, +as executors, has tended to cripple affairs. We were working up to the +full extent of capital invested, and the absence of a hundred thousand +dollars--or its representative security--has made financiering a thing +of no easy consideration." + +"I am afraid, Judge Bigelow," said Wallingford, as the old man paused, +"that you are in the hands of one who, to gain his own ends, would +sacrifice you without a moment's hesitation." + +"Who?" + +"You will permit me to speak plainly, Judge." + +"Say on. The plain speech of a friend is better than the flatteries of +an enemy." + +"I have no faith in Ralph Dewey." + +The two men looked steadily at each other for some moments. + +"Over fifteen years' observation of the man has satisfied me that he +possesses neither honor nor humanity. He is your nephew. But that does +not signify. We must look at men as they are." + +"His movements have not been to my satisfaction for some time," said the +Judge; speaking as though conviction had to force itself upon his mind. + +"You should canvass all he does with the closest care; and if your +property lies in any degree at his mercy, change the relation as quickly +as possible." + +"Are you not prejudiced against him, Henry?" The Judge spoke in a +deprecating tone. + +"I believe, sir, that I estimate him at his real value; and I do most +earnestly conjure you to set to work at once to disentangle your affairs +if seriously involved with his. If you do not, he will beggar you in +your old age, which God forbid!" + +"I am far from sure that I can disentangle my affairs," said the Judge. + +"There is nothing like trying, you know." Wallingford spoke in a tone of +encouragement. "And everything may depend on beginning in time. In what +way are you involved with him?" + +It was some time before Judge Bigelow answered this direct question. He +then replied, + +"Heavily in the way of endorsements." + +"Of his individual paper?" + +"Yes. Also of the paper of his firm." + +"To an extent beyond your ability to pay if there should be failure on +their part?" + +"Yes; to three times my ability to pay." + +Wallingford dropped his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time. He +then looked up into Judge Bigelow's face, and said, + +"If that be so, I can see only one way for you." + +"Say on." + +"Let no more endorsements be given from this day forth." + +"How can I suddenly refuse? The thing has been going on for years." + +"You can refuse to do wrong on the plea of wrong. If your name gives no +real value to a piece of paper, yet accredits it in the eyes of others, +it is wrong for you to place your endorsement thereon. Is not this so?" + +"I admit the proposition, Henry." + +"Very well. The only way to get right, is to start right. And my dear, +dear sir! let me implore you to take immediately the first step in a +right direction. Standing outside of the charmed circle of temptation as +I do, I can see the right way for your feet to walk in better than you +can. Oh, sir! Let me be eyes, and hand, and feet for you if need be; and +if it is not too late, I will save you from impending ruin." + +Wallingford took the old man's hand, and grasped it warmly as he +spoke. The Judge was moved by this earnest appeal, coming upon him so +unexpectedly; and not only moved, but startled and alarmed by the tenor +of what was said. + +"The first thing," he remarked, after taking time to get his thoughts +clear, "if I accept of your friendly overtures, is for me to lay before +you everything just as it is, so that you can see where I stand, and how +I stand. Without this, your view of the case would be partial, and your +conclusions might not be right." + +"That is unquestionably so," Wallingford replied. "And now, Judge, if +you wish my friendly aid, confide in me as you would a son or brother. +You will find me as true as steel." + +A revelation succeeded that filled Mr. Wallingford with painful +astonishment. The endorsements of Judge Bigelow, on paper brought to him +by Dewey, and of which he took no memorandums, covered, no doubt, from a +hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Then, as to the affairs +of the Clinton Bank, of which Judge Bigelow was still the President, he +felt a great deal of concern. The Cashier and Mr. Dewey knew far more +about the business and condition of the institution than anybody else, +and managed it pretty much in their own way. The directors, if not +men of straw, might almost as well have been, for all the intelligent +control they exercised. As for Judge, Bigelow, the principal duty +required of him was to sign his name as President to great sheets of +bank bills, the denomination running from one dollar to a thousand. +Touching the extent to which these representatives of value were issued, +he knew nothing certain. He was shown, at regular periods, a statement +wherein the condition of the bank was set forth, and to which he +appended his signature. But he had no certain knowledge that the figures +were correct. Of the paper under discount over two-thirds was drawn or +endorsed by Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. + +At the time Judge Bigelow began investing in mill property, he was +worth, in productive stocks and real estate, from thirty to forty +thousand dollars. He now estimated his wealth at from sixty to eighty +thousand dollars; but it was all locked up in the mills. + +The result of this first interview between the Judge and Mr. Wallingford +was to set the former in a better position to see the character of his +responsibilities, and the extreme danger in which he stood. The clear, +honest, common sense way in which Wallingford looked at everything, and +comprehended everything, surprised his old preceptor; and gave him so +much confidence in his judgment and discretion, that he placed himself +fully in his hands. And well for him was it that he did so in time. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +In accordance with the advice of Mr. Wallingford, the first reactionary +movement on the part of Judge Bigelow, was his refusal to endorse any +more paper for his nephew, or the firm of which he was a member, on +the ground that such endorsements, on his part, were of no real value, +considering the large amounts for which he was already responsible, and +consequently little better than fraudulent engagements to pay. + +A storm between the uncle and nephew was the consequence, and the latter +undertook to drive the old gentleman back again into the traces, by +threats of terrible disasters to him and all concerned. If Judge Bigelow +had stood alone, the nephew would have been too strong for him. But he +had a clear-seeing, honest mind to throw light upon his way, and a young +and vigorous arm to lean upon in his hour of weakness and trial. And so +Ralph Dewey, to his surprise and alarm, found it impossible to bend the +Judge from his resolution. + +Then followed several weeks, during which time Dewey was flying back +and forth between New York and S----, trying to re-adjust the disturbed +balance of things. The result was as Mr. Wallingford had anticipated. +There was too much at stake for the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., +to let matters fail for lack of Judge Bigelow's endorsements. Some other +prop must be substituted for this one. + +The four months that followed were months of anxious suspense on the +part of Judge Bigelow and his true friend, who was standing beside +him, though invisible in this thing to all other eyes, firm as a rocky +pillar. No more endorsements were given, and the paper bearing his name +was by this time nearly all paid. + +"Right, so far," said Mr. Wallingford, at the expiration of the time +in which most of the paper bearing Judge Bigelow's name reached its +maturity. "And now for the next safe move in this difficult game, where +the odds are still against us. You must get out of this Bank." + +The Judge looked gravely opposed. + +"It may awaken suspicion that something is wrong, and create a run upon +the Bank, which would be ruin." + +"Can you exercise a controlling influence in the position you hold? Can +you be true, as President of the Clinton Bank, to the public interest +you represent?" + +"I cannot. They have made of me an automaton." + +"Very well. That settles the question. You cannot honorably hold your +place a single day. There is only one safe step, and that is to resign." + +"But the loose way in which I held office will be exposed to my +successor." + +"That is not the question to consider, Judge--but the right. Still, so +far as this fear is concerned, don't let it trouble you. The choice of +successor will fall upon some one quite as facile to the wishes of Ralph +Dewey & Company as you have been." + +The good counsels of Mr. Wallingford prevailed. At the next meeting of +the Board of Directors, the resignation of Judge Bigelow was presented. +Dewey had been notified two days before of what was coming, and was +prepared for it. He moved, promptly, that the resignation be accepted. +As soon as the motion was carried, he offered the name of Joshua Kling, +the present Cashier, for the consideration of the Board, and urged his +remarkable fitness. Of course, Mr. Joshua Kling was elected; and +his place filled by one of the tellers. To complete the work, strong +complimentary resolutions, in which deep regret at the resignation +of Judge Bigelow was expressed, were passed by the Board. In the next +week's paper, the following notice of this change in the officers of the +Bank appeared: + +"_Resignation of Judge Bigelow._--In consequence of the pressure of +professional engagements, our highly esteemed citizen Judge Bigelow, +has found it necessary to give up the office of President in the +Clinton Bank, which he has held with so much honor to himself since the +institution commenced business. He is succeeded by Joshua Kling, Esq., +late Cashier; a gentleman peculiarly well-fitted for the position to +which he has been elevated. Harvey Weems, the first Teller, takes the +place of Cashier. A better selection, it would be impossible to make. +From the beginning, the affairs of this Bank have been managed with +great prudence, and it is justly regarded as one of the soundest in the +State." + +"My dear friend," said the grateful Judge, grasping the hand of +Wallingford, who called his attention to this notice, "what a world of +responsibility you have helped me to cast from my shoulders! I am to-day +a happier man than I have been for years. The new President is welcome +to all the honor his higher position may reflect upon him." + +"The next work in order," remarked the Judge's clear-headed, resolute +friend, "is to withdraw your investments from the cotton mills. That +will be a slower and more difficult operation; but it must be done, even +at a sacrifice. Better have fifty thousand dollars in solid real estate, +than a hundred thousand in that concern." + +And so this further disentanglement was commenced. + +Winter having passed away, Mr. Dewey saw it expedient to retire from the +Allen House. By this time nothing more was heard of his Italian Villa. +He had something else to occupy his thoughts. As there was no house +to be rented in S----, that in any way corresponded with his ideas, he +stored his furniture, and took board at the new hotel which had lately +been erected. + +Mr. Wallingford now made preparations for removing to the old mansion, +which was still the handsomest place, by all odds, in our town. + +One day, early in the summer, I received a note from Mr. Wallingford, +asking me to call around at Ivy Cottage in the evening. At the bottom +of the note, was a pencilled line from his wife to Constance, asking the +pleasure of seeing her also. We went after tea. + +"Come with me to the library, Doctor!" said my excellent friend, soon +after our arrival. "I want to have a little talk with you." + +So we left the ladies and retired to the library. + +"My business with you to-night," said he, as we seated ourselves, facing +each other, on opposite sides of the library-table, "is to get at some +adjustment of affairs between us, as touching your executorship of the +Allen estate. I have asked two or three times for your bills against the +estate, but you have always put me off. Mr. Wilkinson, on the contrary, +rendered an account for services, which has been allowed and settled." + +"The business required so little attention on my part," I replied to +this, "that I have never felt that I could, in conscience, render an +account. And besides, it was with me so much a labor of love, that I +do not wish to mar the pleasure I felt by overlaying it with a +compensation." + +"No man could possibly feel more deeply your generous good will toward +me and mine--manifested from the beginning until now--than I do, Doctor. +But I cannot permit the obligation to rest all on one side." + +He pulled out a drawer of the library-table, as he said this, and taking +therefrom a broad parchment document, laid it down, and while his hand +rested upon it continued-- + +"Anticipating that, as heretofore, I might not be able to get your +figures, I have taken the matter into my own hands, and fixed the amount +of compensation--subject, of course, to objections on your part, if I +have made the award too low. These papers are the title deeds of Ivy +Cottage, executed in your favor. There are memories and associations +connected with this dear spot, which must for ever be sacred in +the hearts of myself and wife; and it would be pain to us to see it +desecrated by strangers. In equity and love, then, we pass it over to +you and yours; and may God give you as much happiness beneath its roof +as we have known." + +Surprise kept me silent for some time. But as soon as my thoughts ran +free, I answered-- + +"No--no, Mr. Wallingford. This is fixing the sum entirely beyond a fair +estimate. I cannot for a moment--" + +He stopped me before I could finish the sentence. + +"Doctor!" He spoke with earnestness and deep feeling. "There is no +living man to whom I am so heavily indebted as I am to you. Not until +after my marriage was I aware that your favorable word, given without +qualification, bore me into the confidence of Mrs. Montgomery, and thus +opened the way for me to happiness and fortune. My good Blanche has +often repeated to me the language you once used in my favor, and which +awakened in her mind an interest which gradually deepened into love. My +heart moves towards you, Doctor, and you must let its impulses have way +in this small matter. Do not feel it as an obligation. That is all on +our side. We cannot let Ivy Cottage go entirely out of the family. We +wish to have as much property in it as the pilgrim has in Mecca. We must +visit it sometimes, and feel always that its chambers are the abodes of +peace and love. A kind Providence has given us of this world's goods an +abundance. We did not even have to lift our hands to the ripe clusters. +They fell into our laps. And now, if, from our plenty, we take a small +portion and discharge a debt, will you push aside the offering, and say, +No? Doctor, this must not be!" + +Again I essayed objection; but all was in vain. Ivy Cottage was to be +our pleasant home. When, on returning with Constance, I related to her +what had passed between Mr. Wallingford and myself, she was affected to +tears. + +"If I have ever had a covetous thought," she said, "it has been when +I looked at Ivy Cottage. And to think it is to be mine! The sweetest, +dearest spot in S----!" + +There was no putting aside this good fortune. It came in such a shape, +that we could not refuse it without doing violence to the feelings of +true-hearted friends. And so, when they removed to their new home, we +passed to Ivy Cottage. + +The two years that followed were marked by no events of striking +interest. The affairs of Judge Bigelow continued to assume a better +shape, under the persistent direction of Mr. Wallingford, until every +dollar which he had invested in the cotton mills was withdrawn and +placed in real estate or sound securities. Long before this there had +come an open rupture between the old man and his nephew; but the Judge +had seen his real character in so clear a light that friendship was no +longer desirable. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +And now we have come down to the memorable summer and fall of 1857. No +gathering clouds, no far-distant, low-voiced thunder gave warning of an +approaching storm. The sky was clear, and the sun of prosperity moving +onward in his strength, when, suddenly, from the West came a quick flash +and an ominous roll of thunder. Men paused, looked at each other, and +asked what it meant. Here and there a note of warning was sounded; but, +if heeded by any, it came too late. There followed a brief pause, in +which people held their breaths. Then came another flash, and another +rattling peal. Heavy clouds began to roll up from the horizon; and soon +the whole sky was dark. Pale face looked into pale face, and tremulous +voices asked as to what was coming. Fear and consternation were in +all hearts. It was too late for any to seek refuge or shelter. Ere the +startled multitudes had stirred from their first surprised position, +the tempest came down in its fury, sweeping, tornado-like, from West to +East, and then into one grand gyration circling the whole horizon. Men +lost courage, confidence, and hope. They stood still while the storm +beat down, and the fearful work of destruction went on. + +No commercial disaster like this had ever before visited our country. +Houses that stood unmoved through many fierce convulsions went down +like brittle reeds, and old Corporations which were thought to be as +immovable as the hills tottered and fell, crushing hundreds amid their +gigantic ruins. + +Among the first to yield was the greatly extended house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co. The news came up on the wires to S----, with orders +to stop the mills and discharge all hands. This was the bursting of the +tempest on our town. Mr. Dewey had gone to New York on the first sign of +approaching trouble, and his return was looked for anxiously by all with +whom he was deeply interested in business. But many days passed and none +saw him, or heard from him. Failing to receive any communication, Squire +Floyd, who had everything involved, went down to New York. I saw him on +the morning of his return. He looked ten years older. + +It was soon whispered about that the failure of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & +Co. was a bad one. Then came intimations that Mr. Dewey was not in +New York, and that his partners, when questioned about him, gave very +unsatisfactory replies. + +"Have you any notes of the Clinton Bank, Doctor?" said a friend whom I +met in the street. "Because, if you have, take my advice and get rid of +them as quickly as possible. A run has commenced, and it's my opinion +that the institution will not stand for forty-eight hours." + +It stood just forty-eight hours from the date of this prophecy, and then +closed its doors, leaving our neighborhood poorer by the disaster over +two hundred thousand dollars. There was scarcely a struggle in dying, +for the institution had suffered such an exhausting depletion that when +its extremity came it passed from existence without a throe. A Receiver +was immediately appointed, and the assets examined. These consisted, +mainly, of bills receivable under discount, not probably worth now ten +cents on the dollar. Three-fourths of this paper was drawn or endorsed +by New York firms or individuals, most of whom had already failed. The +personal account of Ralph Dewey showed him to be a debtor to the Bank +in the sum of nearly a hundred thousand dollars. The President, Joshua +Kling, had not been seen since the evening of the day on which the doors +of the Clinton Bank were shut, never to be opened for business again. +His accounts were all in confusion. The Cashier, who had succeeded +him on his elevation to the Presidency of the institution; was a mere +creature in his hands; and from his revelations it was plain that +robbery had been progressing for some time on a grand scale. + +As soon as these disastrous facts became known to the heaviest sufferers +in S----, the proper affidavits were made out, and requisitions obtained +for both Dewey and Kling, as defaulters and fugitives from justice. +The Sheriff of our county, charged with the duty of arrest, proceeded +forthwith to New York, and, engaging the services of detectives there, +began the search for Dewey, who, it was believed, had not left that +city. He was discovered, in a week, after having dexterously eluded +pursuit, on the eve of departure for England, disguised, and under an +assumed name. His next appearance in S----was as a prisoner in the hands +of our Sheriff, who lodged him in jail. Very heavy bonds being required +for his appearance at court, there was not found among us any one +willing to take the risk, who was qualified to become his surety. And so +the wretched man was compelled to lie in prison until the day of trial. + +Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who +visited him without delay. He found him a shrinking, cowed, and +frightened culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore +firm in bearing, though in a false and dangerous position. + +"This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford," he said, on meeting the +lawyer--"a very bad business; and I have sent for you as a professional +gentleman of standing and ability, in order to have a consultation in +regard to my position--in fact, to place myself wholly in your hands. I +must have the best counsel, and therefore take the earliest opportunity +to secure your valuable services. Will you undertake my case?" + +"That will depend, Mr. Dewey," was answered, "entirely upon how it +stands. If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your +innocence, I will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling your +accusers to the last. But if, on the contrary, you cannot show clean +hands, I am not the one to undertake your case." + +Dewey looked at Mr. Wallingford strangely. He scarcely comprehended him. + +"I may have committed mistakes; all men are liable to error," he +replied. + +"Mistake is one thing, Mr. Dewey, and may be explained; fraud is another +thing, and cannot be explained to mean any thing else. What I want you +to understand, distinctly, is this: If your connection with the Clinton +Bank has been, from the beginning, just and honorable, however much it +may now seem to be otherwise, I will undertake your case, and conduct +it, I care not through how great difficulties, to a favorable issue. But +if it has not been--and you know how it stands--do not commit your fate +to me, for I will abandon you the moment I discover that you have been +guilty of deliberate wrong to others." + +The countenance of Mr. Dewey fell, and he seemed to shudder back into +himself. For some time he was silent. + +"If there is a foregone conclusion in your mind, that settles the +matter," he said, at length, in a disappointed tone. + +"All I ask is clear evidence, Mr. Dewey. Foregone conclusions have +nothing to do with the matter," replied Mr. Wallingford, "If you know +yourself to be innocent, you may trust yourself in my hands; if not, I +counsel you to look beyond me to some other man." + +"All men are liable to do wrong, Mr. Wallingford; and religion teaches +that the door of repentance is open to every one." + +"True, but the just punishment of wrong is always needed for a salutary +repentance. The contrition that springs from fear of consequences, +is not genuine repentance. If you have done wrong, you must take the +penalty in some shape, and I am not the man knowingly to stay the just +progression of either moral or civil law." + +"Will you accept a retaining fee, even if not active in my case?" asked +Mr. Dewey. + +"No," was the emphatic answer. + +A dark, despairing shadow fell over the miserable man's face, and he +turned himself away from the only being towards whom he had looked with +any hope in this great extremity of his life. + +Mr. Wallingford retired with pity in his heart. The spectacle was one of +the most painful he had ever witnessed. How was the mighty fallen!--the +proud brought low! As he walked from the prison, the Psalmist's striking +words passed through his mind--"I have seen the wicked in great power, +and spreading himself like a green bay tree; yet he passed away, and lo, +he was not." + +When the day of trial came, Mr. Wallingford appeared as counsel for the +creditors of the Clinton Bank, on the side of the prosecution. He did +not show any eagerness to gain his case against the prisoner; but the +facts were so strong, and all the links in the chain of evidence so +clear, that conviction was inevitable. A series of frauds and robberies +was exposed, that filled the community with surprise and indignation; +and when the jury, after a brief consultation, brought in a verdict of +guilty, the expression of delight was general. Detestation of the man's +crimes took away all pity from the common sentiment in regard to him. A +sentence of five years' expiation in the State prison closed the career +of Ralph Dewey in S-----, and all men said: "The retribution is just." + +Squire Floyd lost everything, and narrowly escaped the charge of +complicity with Dewey. Nothing but the fact of their known antagonism +for some two or three years, turned the public mind in his favor, and +enabled him to show that what appeared collusion, was only, so far as he +was concerned, fair business operations. With the wreck of his fortune +he came very near making also a wreck of his good name. Even as it was, +there were some in S----who thought the Squire had, in some things, gone +far beyond the rule of strict integrity. + +Judge Bigelow, thanks to the timely and resolute intervention of Mr. +Wallingford, stood far away from the crashing wrecks, when the storm +swept down in fearful devastation. It raged around, but did not touch +him; for he was safely sheltered, and beyond its reach. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +Two years have passed since these disastrous events; and twenty years +since the opening of our story. The causes at work in the beginning, +have wrought out their legitimate effects--the tree has ripened its +fruits--the harvest has been gathered. The quiet of old times has fallen +upon S----. It was only a week ago that steps were taken to set the long +silent mills in motion. A company, formed in Boston, has purchased the +lower mill, and rented from Mr. Wallingford the upper one, which was +built on the Allen estate. Squire Floyd, I learn, is to be the manager +here for the company. I am glad of this. Poor man! He was stripped +of everything, and has been, for the past two years, in destitute +circumstances. How he has contrived to live, is almost a mystery. The +elegant house which he had built for himself was taken and sold by +creditors, with the furniture, plate, and all things pertaining thereto, +and, broken-spirited, he retired to a small tenement on the outskirts of +the town, where he has since lived. His unhappy daughter, with her two +children, are with him. Her son, old enough to be put to some business, +she has placed in a store, where he is earning enough to pay his board; +while she and her daughter take in what sewing they can obtain, in order +to lessen, as far as possible, the burden of their maintenance. Alas for +her that the father of those children should be a convicted felon! + +I move about through S----on my round of duties, and daily there comes +to me some reminder of the events and changes of twenty years. I see, +here and there, a stranded wreck, and think how proudly the vessel +spread her white sails in the wind a few short years gone by, freighted +with golden hopes. But where are those treasures now? Lost, lost forever +in the fathomless sea! + +Twenty years ago, and now! As a man soweth, even so shall he reap. +Spring time loses itself in luxuriant summer, and autumn follows with +the sure result. If the seed has been good, the fruit will be good; but +if a man have sown only tares in his fields, he must reap in sorrow and +not in joy. There is no exception to the rule. A bramble bush can no +more bear grapes, than a selfish and evil life can produce happiness. +The one is a natural, and the other a spiritual, impossibility. + +A few days ago, as I was riding along on a visit to one of my patients, +I met Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford, with two of their children, driving +out in their carriage. They stopped, and we were passing a few pleasant +words, when there came by two persons, plainly, almost coarsely +dressed--a mother and her daughter. Both had bundles in their hands. +Over the mother's face a veil was drawn, and as she passed, with +evidently quickening steps, she turned herself partly away. The daughter +looked at us steadily from her calm blue eyes, in which you saw a shade +of sadness, as though already many hopes had failed. Her face was +pale and placid, but touched you with its expression of half-concealed +suffering, as if, young as she was, some lessons of pain and endurance +had already been learned. + +"Who are they?" asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +"Delia Floyd and her daughter," said I. + +No remark was made. If my ears did not deceive me, I heard a faint sigh +pass the lips of Mr. Wallingford. + +I spoke to my horse, and, bowing mutually, we passed on our ways. + +"Twenty years ago, and now!" said I to myself, falling into a sober +mood, as thought went back to the sweet, fragrant morning of Delia's +life, and I saw it in contrast with this dreary autumn. "If the young +would only take a lesson like this to heart!" + +In the evening, Mr. Wallingford called to see me. + +"I have not been able, all day," said he, "to get the image of that poor +woman and her daughter out of my mind. What are their circumstances, +Doctor?" + +"They live with Squire Floyd," I answered, "and he is very poor. I think +Delia and her daughter support themselves by their needles." + +"What a fall!" he said, with pity in his tones. + +"Yes, it was a sad fall--sad, but salutary, I trust." + +"How was she after her separation from Mr. Dewey?" + +"Very bitter and rebellious, for a time. His marriage seemed to arouse +every evil passion of her nature. I almost shuddered to hear the +maledictions she called down upon the head of his wife one day, when +she rode by in the elegant equipage of which she had once been the proud +owner. She fairly trembled with rage. Since then, the discipline of the +inevitable in life has done its better work. She has grown subdued and +patient, and is doing all a mother in such narrow circumstances can do +for her children." + +"What of Dewey's second wife?" asked Mr. Wallingford. + +"She has applied for a divorce from him, on the ground that he is a +convicted felon; and will get a decree in her favor, without doubt." + +"What a history!" he exclaimed. Then, after a pause, he asked-- + +"Cannot something be done for Mr. Floyd?" + +"I have understood," said I, "that the company about to start the mills +again have engaged him as manager." + +"Is that so? Just what I was thinking," he replied, with animation. "I +must look after that matter, and see that it does not fall through." + +And he was in this, as in all things, as good as his word. It needed +only a favorable intimation from him to decide the company to place +their works in the hands of Squire Floyd, who was a man of skill and +experience in manufacturing, and one in whose integrity the fullest +confidence might be reposed. + +A month has passed; and Squire Floyd, engaged at a salary of two +thousand dollars a year, is again at the mills, busy in superintending +repairs, improvements, and additions. A few more weeks, and the rattle +of industry will commence, and the old aspect of things show itself in +S----. May the new mill owners be wiser than their predecessors! + +Squire Floyd has removed from the poor tenement lately the home of his +depressed family, and is back in the pleasant homestead he abandoned +years ago, when pride and ambition impelled him to put on a grander +exterior. It is understood that the company have bought the house, and +rent it to him at a very moderate price. My own impression is, that +Mr. Wallingford has more to do in the matter than people imagine. I am +strengthened in this view, from the fact of having seen Mrs. Wallingford +call at the Squire's twice during the past week. They are in good hands, +and I see a better future in store for them. + +And now, reader, you have the story I wished to tell. It is full of +suggestion to all who are starting forth upon life's perilous journey. +Let truth, honor, integrity, and humanity, govern all your actions. Do +not make haste to be rich, lest you fall into divers temptations. Keep +always close to the right; and always bear in mind that no wrong is ever +done that does not, sooner or later, return upon the wrong-doer. + +And above all, gentle maiden, be not dazzled by the condition or +prospect of any who seek your hand. + +Look away, down, deeply into the character, disposition, and quality; +and if these are not of good seeming, shun the proffered alliance as you +would death. Better, a thousand times, pass through life alone than wed +yourself to inevitable misery. So heeding the moralist, you will not, +in the harvest time which comes to all, look in despair over your barren +fields, but find them golden with Autumn's treasures, that shall fill +your granaries and crown your latter days with blessing. + +The End. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Allen House, by T. S. 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Arthur + +Release Date: October, 2003 [Etext #4588] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 12, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Allen House, or Twenty Years Ago and Now +by T. S. Arthur +******This file should be named tahty10.txt or tahty10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, tahty11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tahty10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +The "legal small print" and other information about this book +may now be found at the end of this file. Please read this +important information, as it gives you specific rights and +tells you about restrictions in how the file may be used. + +*** +This etext was created by Charles Aldarondo (Aldarondo@yahoo.com) + +etext creator notes: +The "missing" quotes and missing [Gap in sentance] were in the original +printing, so they were left to keep it as close to the original. + + +THE ALLEN HOUSE; + +OR, TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. + +BY T. S. ARTHUR. + +PHILADELPHIA: + +1860 + + + + + + +PREFACE. + +WE point to two ways in life, and if the young man and maiden, whose +feet are lingering in soft green meadows and flowery walks, will +consider these two ways in sober earnest, before moving onward, and +choose the one that truth and reason tell them leads to honor, +success, and happiness, our book will accomplish its right work for +them. It is a sad thing, after the lapse of twenty years, to find +ourselves amid ruined hopes;--to sit down with folded hands and say, +"Thus far life has been a failure!" Yet, to how many is this the +wretched summing up at the end of a single score of years from the +time that reason takes the helm! Alas! that so few, who start wrong, +ever succeed in finding the right way; life proving, even to its +last burdened years, a miserable failure! + + + + + + +TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND NOW. + +CHAPTER I. + + + + + +THE rain had poured in torrents all day, and now, for the third time +since morning, I came home, wet, uncomfortable and weary. I half +dreaded to look at the slate, lest some urgent call should stare me +in the face. + +"It must indeed be a case of life and death, that takes me out again +to-night," said I, as my good wife met me in the entry, and with +light hands, made active by love, assisted in the removal of my +great coat and comforter. + +"Now come into the sitting-room," she said, "your slippers are on +the rug, and your dressing-gown warmed and waiting. Tea is ready, +and will be on the table by the time you feel a little comfortable. +What a dreadful day it has been!" + +"Dreadful for those who have been compelled to face the storm," I +remarked, as I drew off my boots, and proceeded to take advantage of +all the pleasant arrangements my thoughtful wife had ready for my +solace and delight. + +It was on my lip to inquire if any one had called since I went out, +but the ringing of the tea-bell sent my thought in a new direction; +when, with my second self leaning on an arm, and my little Aggy +holding tightly by my hand, I moved on to the dining-room, all the +disagreeable things of the day forgotten. + +"Has any one been here?" I asked, as I handed my cup for a third +replenishing. Professional habit was too strong--the query would +intrude itself. + +"Mrs. Wallingford called to see you." + +"Ah! Is anybody sick?" + +"I believe so--but she evaded my inquiry, and said that she wished +to speak a word with the Doctor." + +"She don't want me to call over to-night, I hope. Did she leave any +word?" + +"No. She looked troubled in her mind, I thought." + +"No other call?" + +"Yes. Mary Jones sent word that something was the matter with the +baby. It cried nearly all last night, her little boy said, and +to-day has fever, and lies in a kind of stupor." + +"That case must be seen to," I remarked, speaking to myself. + +"You might let it go over until morning," suggested my wife. "At any +rate, I would let them send again before going. The child may be +better by this time." + +"A call in time may save life here, Constance," I made answer; the +sense of duty growing stronger as the inner and outer man felt the +renovating effects of a good supper, and the brightness and warmth +of my pleasant home. "And life, you know, is a precious thing--even +a baby's life." + +And I turned a meaning glance upon the calm, sweet face of our +latest born, as she lay sleeping in her cradle. That was enough. I +saw the tears spring instantly to the eyes of my wife. + +"I have not a word to say. God forbid, that in the weakness of love +and care for you, dear husband, I should draw you aside from duty. +Yes--yes! The life of a baby is indeed a precious thing!" + +And bending over the cradle, she left a kiss on the lips, and a tear +on the pure brow of our darling. Now was I doubly strengthened for +the night. There arose at this instant a wild storm-wail, that +shrieked for a brief time amid the chimneys, and around the eaves of +our dwelling, and then went moaning away, sadly, dying at last in +the far distance. The rain beat heavily against the windows. But I +did not waver, nor seek for reasons to warrant a neglect of duty. "I +must see Mary Jones's baby, and that to-night." I said this to +myself, resolutely, by way of answer to the intimidating storm. + +Mrs. Jones was a widow, and poor. She lived full a quarter of a mile +away. So in deciding to make the visit that night, I hardly think a +very strong element of self-interest was included in the motives +that governed me. But that is irrelevant. + +"As there is no prospect of an abatement in the storm," said I, +after returning to our cosy little sitting-room, "it may be as well +for me to see the baby at once. The visit will be over, so far as I +am concerned, and precious time may be gained for the patient." + +"I will tell Joseph to bring around the horse," said my wife. + +"No--I will walk. Poor beast! He has done enough for one day, and +shall not be taken out again." + +"Horse-flesh is not so precious as man-flesh," Constance smiled +entreatingly, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. "Let Tom be +harnessed up; it won't hurt him." + +"The merciful man is merciful to his beast," I made answer. "If +horse-flesh is cheaper than man-flesh, like most cheap articles, it +is less enduring. Tom must rest, if his master cannot." + +"The decision is final, I suppose." + +"I must say yes." + +"I hardly think your great coat is dry yet," said my wife. "I had it +hung before the kitchen fire. Let me see." + +"You must wait for ten, or fifteen minutes longer," she remarked, on +returning from the kitchen. "One sleeve was completely wetted +through, and I have turned it in order to get the lining dry." + +I sat down and took Agnes on my lap, and was just getting into a +pleasant talk with her, when the door-bell rung. A shadow fell +across my wife's face. + +"People are thoughtless of Doctors," she remarked, a little +fretfully, "and often choose the worst weather and the most untimely +seasons to send for them." + +I did not answer, but listened as the boy went to the door. Some one +was admitted, and shown into the office. + +"Who is it?" I enquired, as Joseph came to the sitting-room. + +"Mrs. Wallingford." + +My wife and I exchanged glances. She looking grave and curious; but +no remark was made. + +"Good-evening, Mrs. Wallingford," said I, on entering my office. +"This is a very bad night for a lady to come out. I hope no one is +seriously ill." + +"I wish you would come over and see our Henry, Doctor." + +There was a choking tremor in her voice; and as I looked in her +face, I saw that it was pale and distressed. + +"What's the matter?" I inquired. + +"I can't say what it is, Doctor. Something's wrong. I'm afraid--yes, +I'm afraid he's going out of his senses." + +And she wrung her hands together with a nervous uneasiness in +singular contrast with her usual quiet exterior. + +"How is he affected?" + +"Well, Doctor, he came home last evening looking as white as a +sheet. I almost screamed out when I saw the strange, suffering +expression on his colorless face. My first thought was that he had +fallen somewhere, and been hurt dreadfully. He tried to pass me +without stopping; but I put both hands on him, and said--'Oh, Henry! +what does ail you?' 'Nothing of any account,' he answered, in a low, +husky tone. 'I don't feel right well, and am going to my room to lie +down.' And saying this, he brushed right past me, and went up +stairs. I followed after him, but when I tried his door it was +fastened on the inside. I called three times before he answered, and +then he said--'Mother, I'm not sick; but I feel bad and want to be +alone. Please don't disturb me to-night.' I don't think I would have +known the voice if it hadn't been just then and there. Knowing his +disposition, anxious and troubled as I was, I felt that it would be +best for the time being to let him alone. And I did so. For an hour +or more all in his room was as still as death, and I began to grow +very uneasy. Then I heard his feet upon the floor moving about. I +heard him walk to his bureau--my ears served me for eyes--then to +the mantlepiece, and then to the window. All was still again for +some minutes. My heart beat like a hammer, as one vague suggestion +after another floated through my mind. Then he crossed the room with +a slow step; turned and went back again; and so kept on walking to +and fro. I listened, waiting for the sound to cease; nut he walked +on and on, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, tramp, +tramp, tramp, until it seemed as if every jarring footfall was on my +heart. Oh, Doctor! I never had anything to affect me so before in my +whole life. An hour passed, and still he walked the floor of his +room. I could bear it no longer, and went and called to him. But he +seemed deaf, and made no reply. I rattled at the lock and called +again and again. Then he came close to the door, and said, speaking +a little impatiently for him-- + +'Mother! Mother! For Heaven's sake don't trouble me! I don't feel +just right, and you must let me alone for the present.' + +"Well, he kept on walking for an hour longer, and then everything +was still in his room for the night. This morning on trying his door +it was unfastened. I went in. He was lying in bed wide awake. But, +oh! such a change as I saw in his face. It was colorless as on the +evening before; but less expressive of emotion. A dead calm seemed +to have settled upon it. I took his hand; it was cold. I pressed his +forehead; it was cold also. 'Henry, my son, how are you?' I asked. +He did not reply; but looked in my face with a cold, steady gaze +that chilled me. 'Are you sick, my son?' He merely shook his head +slowly. 'Has anything happened? What has happened?' I pressed my +question upon him; but it was of no use. He would not satisfy me. I +then asked if he would not rise. 'Not yet,' he said. 'Shall I bring +you some breakfast?' 'No--no--I cannot eat.' And he shook his head +and shut his eyes, while there came into his face a look so sad and +suffering that as I gazed on him I could not keep the tears back. + +"And it has been no better with him all the day, Doctor," added Mrs. +Wallingford, heaving a long sigh. "Oh, I am distressed to death +about it. Won't you come and see him? I'm afraid if something isn't +done that he will lose his senses." + +"Have you no conjecture as to the cause of this strange condition of +mind?" I asked. + +"None," she replied. "Henry is a reserved young man, you know, +Doctor; and keeps many things hidden in his mind even from me that +should be outspoken." + +"Has he no love affair on hand?" + +"I think not." + +"Hasn't he been paying attention to Squire Floyd's daughter?" + +"Delia?" + +"Yes." + +"I believe not, Doctor." + +"I've seen him at the Squire's." + +"Nothing serious, or I should have known of it. Henry is rather shy +about the girls." + +"And you wish me to see him to-night?" + +"Yes. Something ought to be done." + +"What is his condition just now?" I inquired. "How did you leave +him?" + +"He's been in bed nearly all day, and hasn't touched a mouthful. To +all my persuasions and entreaties he answers--'Please, mother, let +me alone. I will be better after a while.'" + +"I think," said I, after musing on the case, "that, may be, the +let-alone prescription will be the best one for the present. He is +prostrated by some strong mental emotion--that seems clear; and time +must be given for the mind to regain its equipoise. If I were to +call, as you desire, it might annoy or irritate him, and so do more +harm than good. No medicine that I can give is at all likely to +reach his case." + +Mrs. Wallingford looked disappointed, and demurred strongly to my +conclusion. + +I'm sure, Doctor, if you saw him you might suggest something. Or, +may be, he would open his mind to you." + +"I'll think it over," said I. "Mrs. Jones has sent for me to see her +baby to-night. I was just about starting when you called. On my way +back, if, on reflection, it seems to me advisable, I will drop in at +your house." + +"Call at any rate, Doctor," urged Mrs. Wallingford. "Even if you +don't see Henry, you may be able to advise me as to what I had +better do." + +I gave my promise, and the troubled mother went back through storm +and darkness to her home. By this time my overcoat was thoroughly +dried. As Constance brought it forth warm from the fire, she looked +into my face with an expression of inquiry. But I was not ready to +speak in regard to Mrs. Wallingford, and, perceiving this at a +glance, she kept silence on that subject. + +As I opened the front door, the storm swept into my face; but I +passed out quickly into the night, and shielding myself with an +umbrella, as best I could, bent to the rushing wind, and took my +solitary way in the direction of Mrs. Jones's humble dwelling, which +lay quite upon the outskirts of our town. To reach my destination, I +had to pass the Old Allen House, which stood within a high stone +enclosure, surrounded by stately elms a century old, which spread +their great arms above and around the decaying mansion, as if to +ward off the encroachments of time. As I came opposite the gate +opening upon the carriage way, I stopped suddenly in surprise, for +light streamed out from both windows of the north-west chamber, +which I knew had been closed ever since the death of Captain Allen, +who passed to his account several years before. + +This Allen House was one of the notable places in our town; and the +stories in circulation touching the Allen family, now almost +extinct, were so strongly tinctured with romance, that sober-minded +people generally received them with a large measure of incredulity. + +The spacious old two-story mansion, with its high-pitched roof and +rows of dormer windows, was built by the father of Captain Allen, +who had also followed the sea, and, it was said, obtained his large +wealth through means not sanctioned by laws human or divine. Men and +women of the past generation, and therefore contemporaries, did not +hesitate to designate him an "old pirate," though always the +opprobrious words were spoken in an undertone, for people were half +afraid of the dark, reserved, evil-looking man, who had evidently +passed a large portion of his life among scenes of peril and +violence. There were more pleasing traditions of the beautiful wife +he brought home to grace the luxurious dwelling he had fitted up in +a style of almost princely splendor, compared with the plain abode +of even the best off people in town. Who she was, or from whence she +came, no one knew certainly. She was very young--almost a +child--when the elder Captain Allen brought her to S----. + +Very little intercourse, I believe, passed between the Allen family +and the town's-people, except in a business way. The first regular +entry made into the house beyond the formal drawing-room, was on the +occasion of a birth, when the best nurse and gossip in town was +summoned to attend the young mistress. A son was born. He was called +John; though not under the sign of Christian baptism--John Allen; +afterwards Captain Allen. The old sea-dog, his father, was absent at +the time; but returned before the infant was four weeks old. The +nurse described the meeting of husband and wife as very lover-like +and tender on his part, but with scarcely a sign of feeling on hers. +She did not repel him, nor turn from him; but received his caresses +with the manner of one in whom all quick emotion had died. And so it +continued between them--he thoughtful and assiduous, and she cold, +and for the most part silent. But, to her babe, the young mother was +passionate at times in her loving demonstrations. The pent up waters +of feeling gave way in this direction, and poured themselves out, +often, in a rushing flood. Towards all others she bore herself with +a calm, sweet dignity of manner, that captivated the heart, and made +it sigh for a better acquaintance with one around whom mystery had +hung a veil that no hand but her own could push aside--and that hand +was never lifted. + +The next event in the Allen House, noted by the people, was the +birth of a daughter. The same nurse was called in, who remained the +usual time, and then retired; bearing with her a history of the +period, which she related, very confidentially, at tea-tables, and +in familiar gossip with choice spirits of her own. + +Those who knew her best, were always something in doubt as to which +of her stories contained truth and which romance. The latter element +mingled largely, it is presumed, in all of them. + +A great change had taken place in the Captain's manner. He no longer +played the lover to a cold and distant mistress, but carried himself +haughtily at times--captiously at times--and always with an air of +indifference. All affection seemed transferred to his boy, who was +growing self-willed, passionate, and daring. These qualities were +never repressed by his father, but rather encouraged and +strengthened. On learning that his next heir was a daughter, he +expressed impatience, and muttered something about its being +strangled at birth. The nurse said that he never deigned even to +look at it while she was in the house. + +The beautiful young wife showed signs of change, also. Much of the +old sweetness had left her mouth, which was calmer and graver. Her +manner towards Captain Allen, noted before, was of the same quiet, +distant character, but more strongly marked. It was plain that she +had no love for him. The great mystery was, how two so wholly unlike +in all internal qualities, and external seeming, could ever have +been constrained into the relationship, of man and wife. She was, +evidently, an English woman. This was seen in her rich complexion, +sweet blue eyes, fair hair, and quiet dignity of manner. Among the +many probable and improbable rumors as to her first meeting with +Captain Allen, this one had currency. A sailor, who had seen a good +deal of service in the West Indies, told the following story: + +An English vessel from Jamaica, richly freighted, had on board a +merchant with his family, returning from a residence of a few years +on the island, to the mother country. + +They had been out only a day, when a pirate bore down upon them, and +made an easy capture of the ship. The usual bloody scenes of that +day followed. Death, in terrible forms, met the passengers and crew, +and the vessel, after being robbed of its costliest treasures, was +scuttled and sent down into the far depths of the ocean, from whence +no sign could ever come. + +But one living soul was spared--so the story went. An only child of +the English merchant, a fair and beautiful young girl, whose years +had compassed only the early spring-time of life, flung herself upon +her knees before the pirate Captain and begged so piteously for +life, that he spared her from the general slaughter he had himself +decreed. Something in her pure, exquisitely beautiful face, touched +his compassion. There were murmurs of discontent among his savage +crew. But the strong-willed Captain had his way, and when he sailed +back with his booty to their place of rendezvous, he bore with him +the beautiful maiden. Here, it was said, he gave her honorable +protection, and had her cared for as tenderly as was possible under +the circumstances. And it was further related, that, when the maiden +grew to ripe womanhood, he abandoned the trade of a buccaneer and +made her his wife. The sailor told this story, shrugged his +shoulders, looked knowing and mysterious, and left his auditors to +draw what inference they pleased. As they had been talking of +Captain Allen, the listeners made their own conclusion as to his +identity with the buccaneer. True to human nature, in its +inclination to believe always the worst of a man, nine out of ten +credited the story as applied to the cut-throat looking captain, and +so, after this, it was no unusual thing to hear him designated by +the not very flattering sobriquet of the "old pirate." + +Later events, still more inexplicable in their character, and yet +unexplained, gave color to this story, and invested it with the +elements of probability. As related, the old gossip's second +intrusion upon the Aliens, in the capacity of nurse, furnished the +town's-people with a few additional facts, as to the state of things +inside of a dwelling, upon whose very walls seemed written mystery. +In the beginning, Mrs. Allen had made a few acquaintances, who were +charmed with her character, as far as she let herself be known. +Visits were made and returned for a short season. But after the +birth of her first child, she went abroad but rarely, and ceasing to +return all visits, social intercourse came to an end. The old nurse +insisted that this was not her fault, but wholly chargeable upon the +Captain, who, she was certain, had forbidden his wife to have +anything to do with the town's-people. + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + + + +One day, nearly two years after the birth of this second child, the +quiet town of S----was aroused from its dreams by a strange and +startling event. About a week before, a handsomely dressed man, with +the air of a foreigner, alighted from the stage coach at the "White +Swan," and asked if he could have a room. A traveler of such +apparent distinction was a rare event in S----; and as he suggested +the probable stay of a week or so, he became an object of immediate +attention, as well as curiosity. + +Night had closed in when he arrived, and as he was fatigued by his +journey in the old lumbering stage coach that ran between the +nearest sea-port town and S----, he did not show himself again that +evening to the curious people who were to be found idling about the +"White Swan." But he had a talk with the landlord. That functionary +waited upon him to know his pleasure as to supper. + +"The ride has given me a headache," the stranger said, "which a cup +of tea will probably remove. Beyond that, I will take nothing +to-night. Your name is--" + +"Adams, sir. Adams is my name," replied the landlord. + +"And mine is Willoughby--Col. Willoughby. "And the Englishman bowed +with a slight air of condescension. + +"I am at your service, Col. Willoughby," said the landlord in his +blunt way. "Just say what you want, and the thing is done." + +"A cup of tea will serve me to-night, my friend. Let it be good and +strong; for my head is a little unsettled with this throbbing pain. +That stage coach of yours would be something better for a pair of +new springs." + +"It's seen service, and no mistake. But people in these parts don't +calculate much on easy riding. Springs are no great account. We look +to the main chance." + +"What is that?" + +"Getting over the ground." + +The traveler smiled to himself in a quiet way, as if the landlord's +answer had touched some memory or experience. + +Nothing further being remarked, Mr. Adams retired to order a cup of +tea for his guest. Something about the Englishman had stimulated his +curiosity; and, so, instead of sending the cup of tea by his wife, +who did most of the waiting, he carried it to the room himself. + +"Sit down, Mr. Adams," said the traveler, after the tea had been put +before him. + +The landlord did not wait for a second invitation. + +"I hope the tea is to your liking, sir." + +"Excellent. I've not tasted better since I left London." + +The traveler spoke blandly, as he held his cup a little way from his +lips, and looked over the top of it at his host with something more +than a casual glance. He was reading his face with an evident effort +to gain from it, as an index, some clear impression of his +character. + +"My wife understands her business," replied the flattered landlord. +"There is not her equal in all the country round." + +"I can believe you, Mr. Adams. Already this delicious beverage has +acted like a charmed potion. My headache has left me as if by +magic." + +He set his cup down; moved his chair a little way from the table at +which he was sitting, and threw a pleasant look upon the landlord. + +"How long have you been in this town, Mr. Adams?" The question +seemed indifferently asked; but the landlord's ear did not fail to +perceive in the tone in which it was given, a foreshadowing of much +beyond. + +"I was born here," he replied. + +"Ah! Then you know all the people, I imagine?" + +"I know all their faces, at least." + +"And their histories and characters?" + +"Perhaps." + +Something in this "perhaps," and the tone in which it was uttered, +seemed not to strike the questioner agreeably. He bent his brows a +little, and looked more narrowly at the landlord. + +"I did not see much of your town as I came in this evening. How +large is it?" + +"Middling good size, sir, for an inland town," was the not very +satisfactory answer. + +"What is the population?" + +"Well, I don't know--can't just say to a certainty." + +"Two thousand?" + +"Laws! no sir! Not over one, if that." + +"About a thousand, then?" + +"Maybe a thousand, and maybe not more than six or seven hundred." + +"Call it seven hundred, then," said the traveler, evidently a little +amused. + +"And that will, in my view, be calling it enough." + +There was a pause. The traveler seemed in doubt as to whether he +should go on with his queries. + +"Not much trade here, I presume?" He asked, at length. + +"Not much to boast of," said Adams. + +Another pause. + +"Any well-to-do people? Gentlemen who live on their means?" + +"Yes; there's Aaron Thompson. He's rich, I guess. But you can't +measure a snake 'till he's dead, as they say." + +"True," said the traveler, seeming to fall into the landlord's mood. +"Executors often change the public estimate of a man as to this +world's goods. So, Aaron Thompson is one of your rich men?" + +"Yes, and there's Abel Reeder--a close-fisted old dog, but wealthy +as a Jew, and no mistake. Then there is Captain Allen." + +A flash of interest went over the stranger's face, which was turned +at once from the light. + +"Captain Allen! And what of him?" The voice was pitched to a lower +tone; but there was no appearance of special curiosity. + +"A great deal of him." The landlord put on a knowing look. + +"Is he a sea captain?" + +"Yes;" and lowering his voice, "something else besides, if we are to +credit people who pretend to know." + +"Ah! but you speak in riddles, Mr. Adams. What do you mean by +something more?" + +"Why, the fact is, Mr. Willoughby, they do say, that he got his +money in a backhanded sort of fashion." + +"By gambling?" + +"No, sir! By piracy!" + +Col. Willoughby gave a real or affected start. + +"A grave charge that, sir." He looked steadily at the landlord. "And +one that should not be lightly made." + +"I only report the common talk." + +"If such talk should reach the ears of Captain Allen?" suggested the +stranger. + +"No great likelihood of its doing so, for I reckon there's no man in +S----bold enough to say 'pirate' to his face." + +"What kind of a man is he?" + +"A bad specimen in every way." + +"He's no favorite of yours, I see?" + +"I have no personal cause of dislike. We never had many words +together," said the landlord. "But he's a man that you want to get +as far away from as possible. There are men, you know, who kind of +draw you towards them, as if they were made of loadstone; and others +that seem to push you off. Captain Allen is one of the latter kind." + +"What sort of a looking man is he?" + +"Short; thick-set; heavily built, as to body. A full, coarse face; +dark leathery skin; and eyes that are a match for the Evil One's. +There is a deep scar across his left forehead, running past the +outer corner of his eye, and ending against the cheek bone. The +lower lid of this eye is drawn down, and the inside turned out, +showing its deep red lining. There is another scar on his chin. Two +fingers are gone from his left hand, and his right hand has suffered +violence." + +"He has evidently seen hard service," remarked the stranger, and in +a voice that showed him to be suppressing, as best he could, all +signs of interest in the landlord's communication. + +"There's no mistake about that; and if you could only see him, my +word for it, you would fall into the common belief that blood lies +upon his conscience." + +"I shall certainly put myself in the way of seeing him, after the +spur you have just given to my curiosity," said Col. Willoughby, in +a decided manner, as if he had an interest in the man beyond what +the landlord's communication had excited. + +"Then you will have to remain here something more than a week, I'm +thinking," replied the landlord. + +"Why so?" + +"Captain Allen isn't at home." + +There was a sudden change in the stranger's face that did not escape +the landlord's notice. But whether it indicated pleasure or +disappointment, he could not tell; for it was at best a very +equivocal expression. + +"Not at home!" His voice indicated surprise. + +"No, sir." + +"How long has he been absent?" + +"About a month." + +"And is expected to return soon, no doubt?" + +"As to that, I can't say. Few people in this town I apprehend, can +speak with certainty as to the going and coming of Captain Allen." + +"Is he often away?" + +"No, sir; but oftener of late than formerly." + +"Is his absence usually of a prolonged character?" + +"It is much longer than it used to be--never less than a month, and +often extended to three times that period." + +Colonel Willoughby sat without further remark for some time, his +eyes bent down, his brows contracted by thought, and his lips firmly +drawn together. + +"Thank you, my friend," he said, at length, looking up, "for your +patience in answering my idle questions. I will not detain you any +longer." + +The landlord arose, and, bowing to his guest, retired from the +apartment. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + + + +On the next morning Colonel Willoughby plied the landlord with a few +more questions about Captain Allen, and then, inquiring the +direction of his house, started out, as he said, to take a ramble +through the town. He did not come back until near dinner time, and +then he showed no disposition to encourage familiarity on the part +of Mr. Adams. But that individual was not in the dark touching the +morning whereabouts of his friend. A familiar of his, stimulated by +certain good things which the landlord knew when and how to +dispense, had tracked the stranger from the "White Swan" to Captain +Allen's house. After walking around it, on the outside of the +enclosure once or twice, and viewing it on all sides, he had +ventured, at last, through the gate, and up to the front door of the +stately mansion. A servant admitted him, and the landlord's familiar +loitered around for nearly three hours before he came out. Mrs. +Allen accompanied him to the door, and stood and talked with him +earnestly for some time in the portico. They shook hands in parting, +and Colonel Willoughby retired with a firm, slow step, and his eyes +bent downwards as if his thoughts were sober, if not oppressive. + +All this Mr. Adams knew; and of course, his curiosity was pitched to +a high key. But, it was all in vain that he threw himself in the way +of his guest, made leading remarks, and even asked if he had seen +the splendid dwelling of Captain Allen. The handsome stranger held +him firmly at a distance. And not only on that day and evening, but +on the next day and the next. He was polite even to blandness, but +suffered no approach beyond the simplest formal intercourse. Every +morning he was seen going to Captain Allen's house, where he always +stayed several hours. The afternoons he spent, for the most part, in +his own room. + +All this soon became noised throughout the town of S----, and there +was a little world of excitement, and all manner of conjectures, as +to who this Colonel Willoughby might be. The old nurse, of whom +mention has been made, presuming upon her professional acquaintance +with Mrs. Allen, took the liberty of calling in one afternoon, when, +to her certain knowledge, the stranger was in the house. She was, +however, disappointed in seeing him. The servant who admitted her +showed her into a small reception-room, on the opposite side of the +hall from the main parlor, and here Mrs. Allen met her. She was +"very sweet to her"--to use her own words--sweet, and kind, and +gentle as ever. But she looked paler than usual, and did not seem to +be at ease. + +The nurse reported that something was going wrong; but, as to its +exact nature, she was in the dark. It certainly didn't look right +for Mrs. Allen to be receiving daily the visits of an elegant +looking stranger, and her husband away. There was only one opinion +on this head. + +And so it went on from day to day for nearly a week--Colonel +Willoughby, as he had called himself, spending the greater part of +every morning with Mrs. Allen, and hiding himself from curious eyes, +during the afternoons, in his room at the "White Swan." Then came +the denouement to this exciting little drama. + +One day the stranger, after dining, asked Mr. Adams for his bill, +which he paid in British gold. He then gave directions to have a +small trunk, the only baggage he had with him, sent to the house of +Captain Allen. + +The landlord raised his eyebrows, of course; looked very much +surprised, and even ventured a curious question. But the stranger +repelled all inquisition touching his movements. And so he left the +"White Swan," after sojourning there for nearly a week, and the +landlord never saw him again. + +The news which came on the following day, created no little +sensation in S----. Jacob Perkins, who lived near Captain Allen's, +and often worked for him, told the story. His relation was to this +effect: About ten o'clock at night, Mrs. Allen sent for him, and he +waited on her accordingly. He found her dressed as for a journey, +but alone. + +"Take a seat, Jacob," she said. "I wish to have some talk with you." +The man noticed something unusual in her talk and manner. + +"Jacob," she resumed, after a pause, bending towards Mr. Perkins, +"can I trust you in a matter requiring both service and secrecy? I +have done some kind things for you and yours; I now wish you to +return the favor." + +As she spoke, she drew out a purse, and let him see something of its +golden contents. + +"Say on, Mrs. Allen. You may trust me. If you ask anything short of +a crime, it shall be done. Yes, you have been kind to me and mine, +and now I will repay you, if in my power to do so." + +Jacob Perkins was in earnest. But, whether gratitude, or that +apparition of golden sovereigns, had most influence upon him, cannot +at this remote period be said. + +"Can you get a pair of horses and a carriage, or light wagon, +to-night?" + +"I can," replied Jacob. + +"And so as not to excite undue curiosity?" + +"I think so." + +"Very well. Next, will you drive that team all night?" + +And Mrs. Allen played with the purse of gold, and let the coins it +contained strike each other with a musical chink, very pleasant to +the ear of Jacob Perkins. + +"You shall be paid handsomely for your trouble," added the lady, as +she fixed her beautiful blue eyes upon Jacob with an earnest, almost +pleading look. + +"I hope there is nothing wrong," said Jacob, as some troublesome +suspicions began turning themselves over in his mind. + +"Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!" And Mrs. Allen lifted her +pale face reverently upwards. + +"Forgive me, madam; I might have known that," said Jacob. "And now, +if you will give me your orders, they shall be obeyed to the +letter." + +"Thank you, my kind friend," returned Mrs. Allen. "The service you +are now about to render me, cannot be estimated in the usual way. To +me, it will be far beyond all price." + +She was agitated, and paused to recover herself. Then she resumed, +with her usual calmness of manner-- + +"Bring the carriage here--driving with as little noise as +possible--in half an hour. Be very discreet. Don't mention the +matter even to your wife. You can talk with her as freely as you +choose on your return from Boston." + +"From Boston? Why, that is thirty miles away, at least!" + +"I know it, Jacob; but I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. +You know the road?" + +"Every foot of it." + +"So much the better. And now go for the carriage." + +Jacob Perkins arose. As he was turning to go, Mrs. Allen placed her +hand upon his shoulder, and said-- + +"I can trust you, Mr. Perkins?" + +"Madam, you can," was his reply; and he passed from the quiet house +into the darkness without. The night was moonless, but the stars +shone down from an unclouded sky. When Jacob Perkins found himself +alone, and began to look this adventure full in the face, some +unpleasant doubts touching the part he was about to play, intruded +themselves upon his thoughts. He had seen the handsome stranger +going daily to visit Mrs. Allen, for now nearly a week, and had +listened to the town talk touching the matter, until his own mind +was filled with the common idea, that something was wrong. And now, +to be called on to drive Mrs. Allen to Boston, secretly, and under +cover of the night, seemed so much like becoming a party to some act +of folly or crime, that he gave way to hesitation, and began to seek +for reasons that would justify his playing the lady false. Then came +up the image of her sweet, reverent face, as she said so earnestly, +"Nothing wrong, as God is my witness!" And his first purpose was +restored. + +Punctually, at half-past ten o'clock, the team of Jacob Perkins +drove noiselessly in through the gate, and up the carriage-way to +the door of the Allen mansion. No lights were visible in any part of +the house. Under the portico were two figures, a man and a +woman--the man holding something in his arms, which, on a closer +observation, Jacob saw to be a child. Two large trunks and a small +one stood near. + +"Put them on the carriage," said Mrs. Allen, in a low, steady voice; +and Jacob obeyed in silence. When all was ready, she got in, and the +man handed her the sleeping child, and then took his place beside +her. + +"To Boston, remember, Jacob; and make the time as short as +possible." + +No other words were spoken. Jacob led his horses down the +carriage-way to the gate, which he closed carefully after passing +through; and then mounting to his seat, drove off rapidly. + +But little conversation took place between Mrs. Allen and her +traveling companion; and that was in so low a tone of voice, that +Jacob Perkins failed to catch a single word, though he bent his ear +and listened with the closest attention whenever he heard a murmur +of voices. + +It was after daylight when they arrived in Boston, where Jacob +Perkins left them, and returned home with all speed, to wake up the +town of S----with a report of his strange adventure. Before parting +with Mrs. Allen, she gave him a purse, which, on examination, was +found to contain a hundred dollars in gold. She also placed in his +hand a small gold locket, and said, impressively, while her almost +colorless lips quivered, and her bosom struggled with its pent up +feelings-- + +"Jacob, when my son--he is now absent with his father--reaches his +tenth year, give him this, and say that it is a gift from his +mother, and contains a lock of her hair. Can I trust you faithfully +to perform this office of love?" + +Tears filled her eyes; then her breast heaved with a great sob. + +"As Heaven is my witness, madam," answered Jacob Perkins, "it shall +be done." + +"Remember," she said, "that you are only to give this to John, and +not until his tenth year. Keep my gift sacred from the knowledge of +every one until that time, and then let the communication be to him +alone." + +Jacob Perkins promised to do according to her wishes, and then left +her looking so pale, sad, and miserable, that, to use his own words, +"he never could recall her image as she stood looking, not at him, +but past him, as if trying to explore the future, without thinking +of some marble statue in a grave-yard." + +She was never seen in S----again. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + + + +The excitement in the little town of S----, when Jacob returned from +Boston, and told his singular story, may well be imagined. The whole +community was in a buzz. + +It was found that Mrs. Allen had so arranged matters, as to get all +the servants away from the house, on one pretence or another, for +that night, except an old negro woman, famous for her good sleeping +qualities; and she was in the land of forgetfulness long before the +hour appointed for flight. + +Many conjectures were made, and one or two rather philanthropic +individuals proposed, as a common duty, an attempt to arrest the +fugitives and bring them back. But there were none to second this, +the general sentiment being, that Captain Allen was fully competent +to look after his own affairs. And that he wood look after them, and +promptly too, on his return, none doubted for an instant. As for +Jacob Perkins, no one professed a willingness to stand in his shoes. +The fire-eating Captain would most probably blow that gentleman's +brains out in the heat of his first excitement. Poor Jacob, not a +very courageous man, was almost beside himself with fear, when his +view of the case was confidently asserted. One advised this course +of conduct on the part of Jacob, and another advised that, while all +agreed that it would on no account be safe for him to fall in the +Captain's way immediately on his return. More than a dozen people, +friends of Jacob, were on the alert, to give him the earliest +intelligence of Captain Allen's arrival in S----, that he might hide +himself until the first fearful outbreak of passion was over. + +Well, in about two weeks the Captain returned with his little son. +Expectation was on tip-toe. People's hearts beat in their mouths. +There were some who would not have been surprised at any startling +occurrence; an apparition of the scarred sea-dog, rushing along the +streets, slashing his sword about like a madman, would have seemed +to them nothing extraordinary, under the circumstances. + +But expectation stood so long on tip-toe that it grew tired, and +came down a few inches. Nothing occurred to arouse the quiet +inhabitants. Captain Allen was seen to enter his dwelling about two +o'clock in the afternoon, and although not less than twenty sharp +pairs of eyes were turned in that direction, and never abated their +vigilance until night drew down her curtains, no one got even a +glimpse of his person. + +Jacob Perkins left the town, and took refuge with a neighbor living +two miles away, on the first intimation of the Captain's return. + +The next day passed, but no one saw the Captain. On the third day a +member of the inquisitorial committee, who had his house under +constant observation, saw him drive out with his son, and take the +road that went direct to the neighborhood where Jacob Perkins lay +concealed in the house of a friend. + +Poor Jacob! None doubted but the hour of retribution for him was at +hand. That he might have timely warning, if possible, a lad was sent +out on a fleet horse, who managed to go by Captain Allen's chaise on +the road. Pale with affright, the unhappy fugitive hid himself under +a hay rick, and remained there for an hour. But the Captain passed +through without pause or inquiry, and in due course of time returned +to his home, having committed no act in the least degree notable. + +And so, as if nothing unusual had happened, he was seen, day after +day, going about as of old, with not a sign of change in his +deportment that any one could read. In a week, Jacob Perkins +returned to his home, fully assured that no harm was likely to visit +him. + +No event touching Captain Allen or his family, worthy of record, +transpired for several years. The only servants in the house were +negro slaves, brought from a distance, and kept as much as possible +away from others of their class in town. Among these, the boy, John, +grew up. When he was ten years old, Jacob Perkins, though in some +fear, performed the sacred duty promised to his mother on that +memorable morning, when he looked upon her pale, statuesque +countenance for the last time. A flush covered the boy's face, as he +received the locket, and understood from whence it came. He stood +for some minutes, wholly abstracted, as if under the spell of some +vivid memory. + +Tears at length filled his eyes, and glistened on the long fringed +lashes. Then there was a single, half-repressed sob--and then, +grasping the locket tightly in his hand, he turned from Jacob, and, +without a word, walked hastily away. + +When the boy was sixteen, Captain Allen took him to sea. From that +period for n any years, both of them were absent for at least +two-thirds of the time. At twenty-five, John took command of a large +merchant-man, trading to the South American coast, and his father, +now worn down by hard service, as well as by years, retired to his +home in S----, to close up there, in such repose of mind as he could +gain, the last days of his eventful life. He died soon after by +apoplexy. + +Prior to this event, his son, the younger Captain Allen, had brought +home from Cuba a Spanish woman, who took the name of his wife. Of +her family, or antecedents, no one in our town knew anything; and it +was questioned by many whether any rite of marriage had ever been +celebrated between them. Of this, however, nothing certain was +known. None of the best people, so called, in S----paid her the +hospitable compliment of a visit; and she showed no disposition to +intrude herself upon them. And so they stood towards each other as +strangers; and the Allen house remained, as from the beginning, to +most people a terra incognita. + +Neither Captain Allen nor his Spanish consort, to whom no children +were born, as they advanced in years, "grew old gracefully." Both +had repulsive features, which were strongly marked by passion and +sensuality. During the last two years of his life I was frequently +called to see him, and prescribe for his enemy, the gout, by which +he was sorely afflicted. Mrs. Allen also required treatment. Her +nervous system was disordered; and, on closer observation, I +detected signs of a vagrant imagination, leading her away into +states verging upon insanity. She was fretful and ill-tempered; and +rarely spoke to the Captain except complainingly, or in anger. The +visits I made to the Allen house, during the lifetime of Captain +Allen, were among the most unsatisfactory of all my professional +calls. I think, from signs which met my eyes, that something more +than bitter words passed occasionally between the ill-matched +couple. + +Late in the day, nearly five years anterior to the time of which I +am now writing, I was summoned in haste to visit Captain Allen. I +found him lying on a bed in the north-west chamber, where he usually +slept, in a state of insensibility. Mrs. Allen received me at the +door of the chamber with a frightened countenance. On inquiry as to +the cause of his condition, she informed me that he had gone to his +own room about an hour before, a little the worse for a bottle of +wine; and that she had heard nothing more from him, until she was +startled by a loud, jarring noise in his chamber. On running up +stairs, she found him lying upon the floor, insensible. + +I looked at her steadily, as she gave me this relation, but could +not hold her eyes in mine. She seemed more uneasy than troubled. +There was a contused wound just below the right temple, which +covered, with its livid stain, a portion of the cheek. A cursory +examination satisfied me that, whatever might be the cause of his +fall, congestion of the brain had occurred, and that but few chances +for life remained. So I informed Mrs. Allen. At the words, I could +see a shudder run through her frame, and an expression of something +like terror sweep over her face. + +"His father died of apoplexy," said she in a hoarse whisper, looking +at me with a side-long, almost stealthy glance, not full and +open-eyed. + +"This is something more than apoplexy," I remarked; still observing +her closely. + +"The fall may have injured him," she suggested. + +"The blow on his temple has done the fearful work," said I. + +There was a perceptible start, and another look of fear-almost +terror. + +"For heaven's sake, doctor," she said, rousing herself, and speaking +half imperatively, "do something! Don't stand speculating about the +cause; but do something if you have any skill." + +Thus prompted, I set myself to work, in good earnest, with my +patient. The result was in no way flattering to my skill, for he +passed to his account in less than an hour, dying without a sign. + +I shall never forget the wild screams which rang awfully through the +old mansion, when it was announced to Mrs. Allen that the Captain +was dead. She flung herself upon his body, tore her hair, and +committed other extravagances. All the slumbering passions of her +undisciplined nature seemed quickened into sudden life, +overmastering her in their strong excitement. So it would have +seemed to a less suspicious observer; but I thought that I could +detect the overacting of pretence. I may have done her wrong; but +the impression still remains. At the funeral, this extravagant role +of grief was re-enacted, and the impression was left on many minds +that she was half mad with grief. + +Occasionally, after this event, I was summoned to the Allen House to +see its unhappy mistress. I say unhappy, for no human being ever had +a face written all over with the characters you might read in hers, +that was not miserable. I used to study it, sometimes, to see if I +could get anything like a true revelation of her inner life. The +sudden lighting up of her countenance at times, as you observed its +rapidly varying expression, made you almost shudder, for the gleam +which shot across it looked like a reflection from hell. I know no +other word to express what I mean. Remorse, at times, I could +plainly read. + +One thing I soon noticed; the room in which Captain Allen died--the +north-west chamber before mentioned--remained shut up; and an old +servant told me, years afterwards, that Mrs. Allen had never been +inside of it since the fatal day on which I attended him in his last +moments. + +At the time when this story opens the old lady was verging on to +sixty. The five years which had passed since she was left alone had +bent her form considerably, and the diseased state of mind which I +noticed when first called in to visit the family as a physician, was +now but a little way removed from insanity. She was haunted by many +strange hallucinations; and the old servant above alluded to, +informed me, that she was required to sleep in the room with her +mistress, as she never would be alone after dark. Often, through the +night, she would start up in terror, her diseased imagination +building up terrible phantoms in the land of dreams, alarming the +house with her cries. + +I rarely visited her that I did not see new evidences of waning +reason. In the beginning I was fearful that she might do some +violence to herself or her servants, but her insanity began to +assume a less excitable form; and at last she sank into a condition +of torpor, both of mind and body, from which I saw little prospect +of her ever rising. + +"It is well," I said to myself. "Life had better wane slowly away +than to go out in lurid gleams like the flashes of a dying volcano." + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + + + +And now, reader, after this long digression, you can understand my +surprise at seeing broad gleams of light reaching out into the +darkness from the windows of that north-west chamber, as I breasted +the storm on my way to visit the sick child of Mary Jones. No wonder +that I stood still and looked up at those windows, though the rain +beat into my face, half blinding me. The shutters were thrown open, +and the curtains drawn partly aside. I plainly saw shadows on the +ceiling and walls as of persons moving about the room. Did my eyes +deceive me? Was not that the figure of a young girl that stood for a +moment at the window trying to pierce with her eyes the thick veil +of night? I was still in doubt when the figure turned away, and only +gave me a shadow on the wall. + +I lingered in front of the old house for some minutes, but gaining +no intelligence of what was passing within, I kept on my way to the +humbler dwelling of Mary Jones. I found her child quite ill, and +needing attention. After doing what, in my judgment, the case +required, I turned my steps towards the house of Mrs. Wallingford to +look into the case of her son Henry, who, acording to her account, +was in a very unhappy condition. + +I went a little out of my way so as to go past the Allen House +again. As I approached, my eyes were directed to the chamber windows +at the north-west corner, and while yet some distance away, as the +old elms tossed their great limbs about in struggling with the +storm, I saw glancing out between them the same cheery light that +met my astonished gaze a little while before. As then, I saw shadows +moving on the walls, and once the same slender, graceful +figure--evidently that of a young girl--came to the window and tried +to look out into the deep darkness. + +As there was nothing to be gained by standing there in the drenching +storm, I moved onward, taking the way to Mrs. Wallingford's +dwelling. I had scarcely touched the knocker when the door was +opened, and by Mrs. Wallingford herself. + +"Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad you've come!" she said in a low, troubled +voice. + +I stepped in out of the rain, gave her my dripping umbrella, and +laid off my overcoat. + +"How is Henry now?" I asked. + +She put her finger to her lip, and said, in a whisper, + +"Just the same, Doctor--just the same. Listen! Don't you hear him +walking the floor overhead? I've tried to get him to take a cup of +tea, but he won't touch any thing. All I can get out of him +is--'Mother--dear mother--leave me to myself. I shall come right +again. Only leave me to myself now.' But, how can I let him go on in +this way? Oh, Doctor, I am almost beside myself! What can it all +mean? Something dreadful has happened." + +I sat listening and reflecting for something like ten minutes. +Steadily, from one side the room overhead to the other, went the +noise of feet; now slowly, now with a quicker motion: and now with a +sudden tramp, that sent the listener's blood with a start along its +courses. + +"Won't you see him, doctor?" + +I did not answer at once, for I was in the dark as to what was best +to be done. If I had known the origin of his trouble, I could have +acted understandingly. As it was, any intrusion upon the young man +might do harm rather than good. + +"He has asked to be let alone," I replied, "and it may be best to +let him alone. He says that he will come out right. Give him a +little more time. Wait, at least, until to-morrow. Then, if there is +no change, I will see him." + +Still the mother urged. At last I said-- + +"Go to your son. Suggest to him a visit from me, and mark the +effect." + +I listened as she went up stairs. On entering his room, I noticed +that he ceased walking. Soon came to my ears the murmur of voices, +which rose to a sudden loudness on his part, and I distinctly heard +the words: + +"Mother! you will drive me mad! If you talk of that, I will go from +the house. I _must_ be left alone!" + +Then all was silent. Soon Mrs. Wallingford came down. She looked +even more distressed than when she left the room. + +"I'm afraid it might do harm," she said doubtingly. + +"So am I. It will, I am sure, be best to let him have his way for +the present. Something has disturbed him fearfully; but he is +struggling hard for the mastery over himself, and you may be sure, +madam, that he will gain it. Your son is a young man of no light +stamp of character; and he will come out of this ordeal, as gold +from the crucible." + +"You think so, Doctor?" + +She looked at me with a hopeful light in her troubled countenance. + +"I do, verily. So let your heart dwell in peace." + +I was anxious to get back to my good Constance, and so, after a few +more encouraging words for Mrs. Wallingford, I tried the storm +again, and went through its shivering gusts, to my own home. There +had been no calls in my absence, and so the prospect looked fair for +a quiet evening--just what I wanted; for the strange condition of +Henry Wallingford, and the singular circumstance connected with the +old Allen House, were things to be conned over with that second +self, towards whom all thought turned and all interest converged as +to a centre. + +After exchanging wet outer garments and boots, for dressing gown and +slippers; and darkness and storm for a pleasant fireside; my +thoughts turned to the north-west chamber of the Allen House, and I +said-- + +"I have seen something to-night that puzzled me." + +"What is that?" inquired my wife, turning her mild eyes upon me. + +"You know the room in which old Captain Allen died?" + +"Yes." + +"The chamber on the north-west corner, which, as far as we know, has +been shut up ever since?" + +"Yes, I remember your suspicion as to foul play on the part of Mrs. +Alien, who, it is believed, has never visited the apartment since +the Captain's death." + +"Well, you will be surprised to hear that the shutters are unclosed, +and lights burning in that chamber." + +"Now!" + +"Yes--or at least half an hour ago." + +"That is remarkable." + +My wife looked puzzled. + +"And more remarkable still--I saw shadows moving on the walls, as of +two or three persons in the room." + +"Something unusual has happened," said my wife. + +"Perhaps Mrs. Allen is dead." + +This thought had not occurred to me. I turned it over for a few +moments, and then remarked, + +"Hardly probable--for, in that case, I would have been summoned. No; +it strikes me that some strangers are in the house; for I am certain +that I saw a young girl come to the window and press her face close +up to one of the panes, as if trying to penetrate the darkness. + +"Singular!" said my wife, as if speaking to herself. "Now, that +explains, in part, something that I couldn't just make out +yesterday. I was late in getting home from Aunt Elder's you know. +Well, as I came in view of that old house, I thought I saw a girl +standing by the gate. An appearance so unusual, caused me to strain +my eyes to make out the figure, but the twilight had fallen too +deeply. While I still looked, the form disappeared; but, through an +opening in the shrubbery, I caught another glimpse of it, as it +vanished in the portico. I was going to speak of the incident, but +other matters pushed it, till now, from my thoughts when you were at +home." + +"Then my eyes did not deceive me," said I; "your story corroborates +mine. There is a young lady in the Allen House. But who is she? That +is the question." + +As we could not get beyond this question, we left the riddle for +time to solve, and turned next to the singular state of mind into +which young Henry Wallingford had fallen. + +"Well," said my wife, speaking with some emphasis, after I had told +her of the case, "I never imagined that he cared so much for the +girl!" + +"What girl?" I inquired. + +"Why, Delia Floyd--the silly fool! if I must speak so strongly." + +"Then he is really in love with Squire Floyd's daughter?" + +"It looks like it, if he's taking on as his mother says," answered +my wife, with considerable feeling. "And Delia will rue the day she +turned from as true a man as Henry Wallingford." + +"Bless me, Constance! you've got deeper into this matter, than +either his mother or me. Who has been initiating you into the love +secrets of S----?" + +"This affair," returned my wife, "has not passed into town talk, and +will, I trust, be kept sacred by those who know the facts. I learned +them from Mrs. Dean, the sister of Mrs. Floyd. The case stands thus: +Henry is peculiar, shy, reserved, and rather silent. He goes but +little into company, and has not the taking way with girls that +renders some young men so popular. But his qualities are all of the +sterling kind--such as wear well, and grow brighter with usage. For +more than a year past, he has shown a decided preference for Delia +Floyd, and she has encouraged his attentions. Indeed, so far as I +can learn from Mrs. Dean, the heart of her niece was deeply +interested. But a lover of higher pretensions came, dazzling her +mind with a more brilliant future." + +"Who?" I inquired. + +"That dashing young fellow from New York, Judge Bigelow's nephew." + +"Not Ralph Dewey?" + +"Yes." + +"Foolish girl, to throw away a man for such an effigy! It will be a +dark day that sees her wedded to him. But I will not believe in the +possibility of such an event." + +"Well, to go on with my story," resumed Constance. "Last evening, +seeing, I suppose, that a dangerous rival was intruding, Henry made +suit for the hand of Delia, and was rejected." + +"I understand the case better now," said I, speaking from a +professional point of view. + +"Poor young man! I did not suppose it was in him to love any woman +after that fashion," remarked Constance. + +"Your men of reserved exterior have often great depths of feeling," +I remarked. "Usually women are not drawn towards them; because they +are attracted most readily by what meets the eye. If they would look +deeper, they would commit fewer mistakes, like that which Delia +Floyd has just committed." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + + + +Delia Floyd was a girl of more than ordinary attractions, and it is +not surprising that young Wallingford was drawn, fascinated, within +the charmed circle of her influence. She was, by no means, the weak, +vain, beautiful young woman, that the brief allusion I have made to +her might naturally lead the reader to infer. I had possessed good +opportunities for observing her, for our families were intimate, and +she was frequently at our house. Her father had given her a good +education--not showy; but of the solid kind. She was fond of books, +and better read, I think, in the literature of the day, than any +other young lady in S----. Her conversational powers were of a high +order. Good sense, I had always given her credit for possessing; and +I believed her capable of reading character correctly. She was the +last one I should have regarded as being in danger of losing a heart +to Ralph Dewey. + +In person, Delia was rather below than above the middle stature. Her +hair was of a dark brown, and so were her eyes--the latter large and +liquid. Her complexion was fresh, almost ruddy, and her countenance +animated, and quick to register every play of feeling. + +In manner, she was exceedingly agreeable, and had the happy art of +putting even strangers at ease. It was no matter of wonder to me, as +I said before, that Henry Wallingford should fall in love with Delia +Floyd. But I did wonder, most profoundly, when I became fully +assured, that she had, for a mere flash man, such as Ralph Dewey +seemed to me, turned herself away from Henry Wallingford. + +But women are enigmas to most of us--I don't include you, dear +Constance!--and every now and then puzzle us by acts so strangely +out of keeping with all that we had predicated of them, as to leave +no explanation within our reach, save that of evil fascination, or +temporary loss of reason. We see their feet often turning aside into +ways that we know lead to wretchedness, and onward they move +persistently, heeding neither the voice of love, warning, nor +reproach. They hope all things, believe all things, trust all +things, and make shipwreck on the breakers that all eyes but their +own see leaping and foaming in their course. Yes, woman is truly an +enigma! + +Squire Floyd was a plain, upright man, in moderately good +circumstances. He owned a water power on the stream that ran near +our town, and had built himself a cotton mill, which was yielding +him a good annual income. But he was far from being rich, and had +the good sense not to assume a style of living beyond his means. + +Henry Wallingford was the son of an old friend of Squire Floyd's. +The elder Mr. Wallingford was not a man of the Squire's caution and +prudence. He was always making mistakes in matters of business, and +never succeeded well in any thing. He died when his son was about +eighteen years of age. Henry was at that time studying law with +Judge Bigelow. As, in the settlement of his father's estate, it was +found to be wholly insolvent, Henry, unwilling to be dependent on +his mother, who had a small income in her own right, gave notice to +the Judge that he was about to leave his office. Now, the Judge was +a man of penetration, and had already discovered in the quiet, +reserved young man, just the qualities needed to give success in the +practice of law. He looked calmly at his student for some moments +after receiving this announcement, conning over his face, which by +no means gave indications of a happy state of mind. + +"You think you can find a better preceptor?" said the Judge, at +last, in his calm way. + +"No, sir! no!" answered Henry, quickly. "Not in all this town, nor +out of it, either. It is not that, Judge Bigelow." + +"Then you don't fancy the law?" + +"On the contrary, there is no other calling in life that presents to +my mind any thing attractive," replied Henry, in a tone of +despondency that did not escape the Judge. + +"Well, if that is the case, why not keep on? You are getting along +bravely." + +"I must support myself, sir--must do something besides sitting here +and reading law books." + +"Ah, yes, I see." The Judge spoke to himself, as if light had broken +into his mind. "Well, Henry," he added, looking at the young man, +"what do you propose doing?" + +"I have hands and health," was the reply. + +"Something more than hands and health are required in this world. +What can you do?" + +"I can work on a farm, if nothing better offers. Or, may be, I can +get a place in some store." + +"There's good stuff in the lad," said Judge Bigelow to himself. Then +speaking aloud-- + +"I'll think this matter over for you, Henry. Let it rest for a day +or two. The law is your proper calling, and you must not give it up, +if you can be sustained in it." + +On that very day, Judge Bigelow saw Squire Floyd, and talked the +matter over with him. They had but one sentiment in the matter, and +that was favorable to Henry's remaining where he was. + +"Can he be of any service to you, in your office, Judge--such as +copying deeds and papers, hunting up cases, and the like?" asked the +Squire. + +"Yes, he can be of service to me in that way; and is of service +now." + +"You can afford to pay him something?" suggested Squire Floyd. + +"It is usual," replied the Judge, "to get this kind of service in +return for instruction and office privileges." + +"I know; but this case is peculiar. The death of Henry's father has +left him without a support, and he is too independent to burden his +mother. Unless he can earn something, therefore, he must abandon the +law." + +"I understand that, Squire, and have already decided to compensate +him," said the Judge. "But what I can offer will not be enough." + +"How much can you offer?" + +"Not over a hundred dollars for the first year." + +"Call it two hundred, Judge," was the ready answer. + +The two men looked for a moment into each other's faces. + +"His father and I were friends from boyhood," said Squire Floyd. "He +was a warm-hearted man; but always making mistakes. He would have +ruined me two or three times over, if I had been weak enough to +enter into his plans, or to yield to his importunities in the way of +risks and securities. It often went hard for me to refuse him; but +duty to those dependent on me was stronger than friendship. But I +can spare a hundred dollars for his son, and will do it cheerfully. +Only, I must not be known in the matter; for it would lay on Henry's +mind a weight of obligation, not pleasant for one of his sensitive +disposition to bear." + +"I see, Squire," answered Judge Bigelow to this; "but then it won't +place me in the right position. I shall receive credit for your +benevolence." + +"Don't trouble yourself on that score," answered the Squire, +laughing. "It may be that I shall want some law business +done--though heaven forbid! In that case, I will call on you, and +you can let Henry do the work. Thus the equilibrium of benefits will +be restored. Let the salary be two hundred." + +And so this matter being settled, Henry Wallingford remained in the +office of Judge Bigelow. The fact of being salaried by the Judge, +stimulated him to new efforts, and made him forward to relieve his +kind preceptor of all duties within the range of his ability. There +came, during the next year, an unusually large amount of office +practice--preparing deeds, making searches, and drawing up papers of +various kinds. In doing this work, Henry was rapid and reliable. So, +when Squire Floyd tendered his proportion of the young man's salary +to his neighbor, the Judge declined receiving it. The Squire urged; +but the Judge said-- + +"No; Henry has earned his salary, and I must pay it, in simple +justice. I did not think there was so much in him. Business has +increased, and without so valuable an assistant, I could not get +along." + +So the way had opened before Henry Wallingford, and he was on the +road to a successful manhood. At the time of his introduction to the +reader, he was in his twenty-third year. On attaining his majority, +he had become so indispensable to Judge Bigelow, who had the largest +practice in the county, that no course was left for him but to offer +the young man a share in his business. It was accepted; and the name +of Henry Wallingford was thenceforth displayed in gilt letters, in +the office window of his preceptor. + +From that time, his mind never rested with anything like care or +anxiety on the future. His daily life consisted in an almost +absorbed devotion to his professional duties, which grew steadily on +his hands. His affection was in them, and so the balance of his mind +was fully sustained. Ah, if we could all thus rest, without anxiety, +on the right performance of our allotted work! If we would be +content to wait patiently for that success which comes as the +orderly result of well-doing in our business, trades, or +professions, what a different adjustment would there be in our +social condition and relations! There would not be all around us so +many eager, care-worn faces--so many heads bowed with anxious +thought--so many shoulders bent with burdens, destined, sooner or +later, to prove too great for the strength which now sustains them. +But how few, like Henry Wallingford, enter with anything like +pleasure into their work! It is, in most cases, held as drudgery, +and regarded only as the means to cherished ends in life wholly +removed from the calling itself. Impatience comes as a natural +result. The hand reaches forth to pluck the growing fruit ere it is +half ripened. No wonder that its taste is bitter to so many +thousands. No wonder that true success comes to so small a +number--that to so many life proves but a miserable failure. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + + + +The morning which broke after that night of storm was serene and +beautiful. The air had a crystal clearness, and as you looked away +up into the cloudless azure, it seemed as if the eye could penetrate +to an immeasurable distance. The act of breathing was a luxury. You +drew in draught after draught of the rich air, feeling, with every +inhalation, that a new vitality was absorbed through the lungs, +giving to the heart a nobler beat, and to the brain a fresh +activity. With what a different feeling did I take up my round of +duties for the day! Yesterday I went creeping forth like a reluctant +school boy; to-day, with an uplifted countenance and a willing step. + +Having a few near calls to make, I did not order my horse, as both +health and inclination were better served by walking. Soon after +breakfast I started out, and was going in the direction of Judge +Bigelow's office, when, hearing a step behind me that had in it a +familiar sound, I turned to find myself face to face with Henry +Wallingford! He could hardly have failed to see the look of surprise +in my face. + +"Good morning, Henry," I said, giving him my hand, and trying to +speak with that cheerful interest in the young man which I had +always endeavored to show. + +He smiled in his usual quiet way as he took my hand and said in +return, + +"Good-morning, Doctor." + +"You were not out, I believe, yesterday," I remarked, as we moved on +together. + +"I didn't feel very well," he answered, in a voice pitched to a +lower key than usual; "and, the day being a stormy one, I shut +myself up at home." + +"Ah," said I, in a cheerful way, "you lawyers have the advantage of +us knights of the pill box and lancet. Rain or shine, sick or well, +we must travel round our parish." + +"All have their share of the good as well as the evil things of +life," he replied, a little soberly. "Doctors and lawyers included." + +I did not observe any marked change in the young man, except that he +was paler, and had a different look out of his eyes from any that I +had hitherto noticed; a more matured look, which not only indicated +deeper feeling, but gave signs of will and endurance. I carried that +new expression away with me as we parted at the door of his office, +and studied it as a new revelation of the man. It was very certain +that profounder depths had been opened in his nature--opened to his +own consciousness--than had ever seen the light before. That he was +more a man than he had ever been, and more worthy to be mated with a +true woman. Up to this time I had thought of him more as a boy than +as a man, for the years had glided by so quietly that bore him +onward with the rest, that he had not arisen in my thought to the +full mental stature which the word manhood includes. + +"Ah," said I, as I walked on, "what a mistake in Delia Floyd! She is +just as capable of high development as a woman as he is as a man. +How admirably would they have mated. In him, self-reliance, reason, +judgment, and deep feeling would have found in her all the qualities +they seek--taste, perception, tenderness and love. They would have +grown upwards into higher ideas of life, not downwards into +sensualism and mere worldliness, like the many. Alas! This mistake +on her part may ruin them both; for a man of deep, reserved +feelings, who suffers a disappointment in love, is often warped in +his appreciation of the sex, and grows one-sided in his character as +he advances through the cycles of life. + +I had parted from Henry only a few minutes when I met his rival, +Ralph Dewey. Let me describe him. In person he was taller than +Wallingford, and had the easy, confident manner of one who had seen +the world, as we say. His face was called handsome; but it was not a +manly face--manly in that best sense which includes character and +thought. The chin and mouth were feeble, and the forehead narrow, +throwing the small orbs close together. But he had a fresh +complexion, dark, sprightly eyes, and a winning smile. His voice was +not very good, having in it a kind of unpleasant rattle; but he +managed it rather skillfully in conversation, and you soon, ceased +to notice the peculiarity. + +Ralph lived in New York, where he had recently been advanced to the +position of fourth partner in a dry goods jobbing house, with a +small percentage on the net profits. Judging from the air with which +he spoke of his firm's operations, and his relation to the business, +you might have inferred that he was senior instead of junior +partner, and that the whole weight of the concern rested on his +shoulders. + +Judge Bigelow, a solid man, and from professional habit skilled in +reading character, was, singularly enough, quite carried away with +his smart nephew, and really believed his report of himself. +Prospectively, he saw him a merchant prince, surrounded by palatial +splendors. + +Our acquaintance was as yet but slight, so we only nodded in +passing. As we were in the neighborhood of Squire Floyd's pleasant +cottage, I was naturally curious, under the circumstances, to see +whether the young man was going to make a visit at so early an hour; +and I managed to keep long enough in sight to have this matter +determined. Ralph called at the Squire's, and I saw him admitted. So +I shook my head disapprovingly, and kept on my way. + +Not until late in the afternoon did I find occasion to go into that +part of the town where the old Allen house was located, though the +image of its gleaming north-west windows was frequently in my +thought. The surprise occasioned by that incident was in no way +lessened on seeing a carriage drive in through the gateway, and two +ladies alight therefrom and enter the house. Both were in mourning. +I did not see their faces; but, judging from the dress and figure of +each, it was evident that one was past the meridian of life, and the +other young. Still more to my surprise, the carriage was not built +after our New England fashion, but looked heavy, and of a somewhat +ancient date. It was large and high, with a single seat for the +driver perched away up in the air, and a footman's stand and +hangings behind. There was, moreover, a footman in attendance, who +sprung to his place after the ladies had alighted, and rode off to +the stables. + +"Am I dreaming?" said I to myself, as I kept on my way, after +witnessing this new incident in the series of strange events that +were half-bewildering me. But it was in vain that I rubbed my eyes; +I could not wake up to a different reality. + +It was late when I got home from my round of calls, and found tea +awaiting my arrival. + +"Any one been here?" I asked--my usual question. + +"No one.' The answer pleased me for I had many things on my mind, +and I wished to have a good long evening with my wife. Baby Mary and +Louis were asleep: but we had the sweet, gentle face of Agnes, our +first born, to brighten the meal-time. After she was in dream-land, +guarded by the loving angels who watch with children in sleep, and +Constance was through with her household cares for the evening, I +came into the sitting-room from my office, and taking the large +rocking-chair, leaned my head back, mind and body enjoying a sense +of rest and comfort. + +"You are not the only one," said my wife, looking up from the basket +of work through which she had been searching for some article, "who +noticed lights in the Allen House last evening." + +"Who else saw them?" I asked. + +"Mrs. Dean says she heard two or three people say that the house was +lit up all over--a perfect illumination." + +"Stories lose nothing in being re-told. The illumination was +confined to the room in which Captain Allen died. I am witness to +that. But I have something more for your ears. This afternoon, as I +rode past, I saw an old-fashioned English coach, with a liveried +driver and footman, turn into the gate. From this two ladies +alighted and went into the house; when the coach was driven to the +stables. Now, what do you think of that?" + +"We are to have a romance enacted in our very midst, it would seem," +replied my wife, in her unimpassioned way. "Other eyes have seen +this also, and the strange fact is buzzing through the town. I was +only waiting until we were alone to tell you that these two ladies +whom you saw, arrived at the Allen House in their carriage near +about daylight, on the day before yesterday. But no one knows who +they are, or from whence they came. It is said that they made +themselves as completely at home as if they were in their own house; +selected the north-west chamber as their sleeping apartment; and +ordered the old servants about with an air of authority that subdued +them to obedience." + +"But what of Mrs. Allen?" I asked, in astonishment at all this. + +"The stories about her reception of the strangers do not agree. +According to one, the old lady was all resistance and indignation at +this intrusion; according to another, she gave way, passively, as if +she were no longer sole mistress of the house." + +Constance ceased speaking, for there came the usual interruption to +our evening _tete-a-tete_--the ringing of my office bell. + +"You are wanted up at the Allen House, Doctor, said my boy, coming +in from the office a few moments afterwards. + +"Who is sick?" I asked. + +"The old lady." + +"Any thing serious?" + +"I don't know, sir. But I should think there was from the way old +Aunty looked. She says, come up as quickly as you can." + +"Is she in the office?" + +"No, sir. She just said that, and then went out in a hurry." + +"The plot thickens," said I, looking at Constance. + +"Poor old lady!" There was a shade of pity in her tones. + +"You have not seen her for many years?" + +"No." + +"Poor old witch of Endor! were better said." + +"Oh!" answered my wife, smiling, "you know that the painter's idea +of this celebrated individual has been reversed by some, who affirm +that she was young and handsome instead of old and ugly like modern +witches." + +"I don't know how that may be, but if you could see Mrs. Allen, you +would say that 'hag' were a better term for her than woman. If the +good grow beautiful as they grow old, the loving spirit shining like +a lamp through the wasted and failing walls of flesh, so do the evil +grow ugly and repulsive. Ah, Constance, the lesson is for all of us. +If we live true lives, our countenances will grow radiant from +within, as we advance in years; if selfish, worldly, discontented +lives, they will grow cold, hard, and repulsive." + +I drew on my boots and coat, and started on my visit to the Allen +House. The night was in perfect contrast with the previous one. +There was no moon, but every star shone with its highest brilliancy, +while the galaxy threw its white scarf gracefully across the sky, +veiling millions of suns in their own excessive brightness. I paused +several times in my walk, as broader expanses opened between the +great elms that gave to our town a sylvan beauty, and repeated, with +a rapt feeling of awe and admiration, the opening stanza of a +familiar hymn:-- + +"The spacious firmament on high, +With all the blue ethereal sky, +And spangled heavens, a shining frame, +Their great Original proclaim." + +How the beauty and grandeur of nature move the heart, as if it +recognized something of its own in every changing aspect. The sun +and moon and stars--the grand old mountains lifting themselves +upwards into serene heights--the limitless expanse of ocean, +girdling the whole earth--rivers, valleys, and plains--trees, +flowers, the infinite forms of life--to all the soul gives some +response, as if they were akin. + +I half forgot my interest in old Mrs. Allen, as my heart beat +responsive to the pulsings of nature, and my thoughts flew upwards +and away as on the wings of eagles. But my faithful feet had borne +me steadily onwards, and I was at the gate opening to the grounds of +the Allen House, before I was conscious of having passed over half +the distance that lay between that and my home. I looked up, and saw +a light in the north-west chamber, but the curtains were down. + +On entering the house, I was shown by the servant who admitted me, +into the small office or reception room opening from the hall. I had +scarcely seated myself, when a tall woman, dressed in black, came +in, and said, with a graceful, but rather stately manner-- + +"The Doctor, I believe?" + +How familiar the voice sounded! And yet I did not recognise it as +the voice of any one whom I had known, but rather as a voice heard +in dreams. Nor was the calm, dignified countenance on which my eyes +rested, strange in every lineament. The lady was, to all appearance, +somewhere in the neighborhood of sixty, and, for an elderly lady, +handsome. I thought of my remark to Constance about the beauty and +deformity of age, and said to myself, "Here is one who has not lived +in vain." + +I arose as she spoke, and answered in the affirmative. + +"You have come too late," she said, with a touch of feeling in her +voice. + +"Not dead?" I ejaculated. + +"Yes, dead. Will you walk up stairs and see her?" + +I followed in silence, ascending to the chamber which had been +occupied by Mrs. Allen since the old Captain's death. It was true as +she had said; a ghastly corpse was before me. I use the word +ghastly, for it fully expresses the ugliness of that lifeless face, +withered, marred, almost shorn of every true aspect of humanity. I +laid my hand upon her--the skin was cold. I felt for her pulse, but +there was no sign of motion in the arteries. + +"It is over," I said, lifting myself from my brief examination, "and +may God have mercy upon her soul!" The last part of the sentence was +involuntary. + +"Amen!" + +I felt that this response was no idle ejaculation. + +"How was she affected?" I asked. "Has she been sick for any time? Or +did life go out suddenly?" + +"It went out suddenly," replied the lady--"as suddenly as a lamp in +the wind." + +"Was she excited from any cause?" + +"She has been in an excited state ever since our arrival, although +every thing that lay in our power has been done to quiet her mind +and give it confidence and repose." + +She spoke calmly, as one, who held a controlling position there, and +of right. I looked into her serene face, almost classic in its +outlines, with an expression of blended inquiry and surprise, that +it was evident did not escape her observation, although she offered +no explanation in regard to herself. + +I turned again to the corpse, and examined it with some care. There +was nothing in its appearance that gave me any clue to the cause +which had produced this sudden extinguishment of life. + +"In what way was she excited?" I asked, looking at the stranger as I +stepped back from the couch on which the dead body was lying. + +She returned my steady gaze, without answering, for some moments. +Either my tone or manner affected her unpleasantly, for I saw her +brows contract slightly, her full lips close upon themselves, and +her eyes acquire an intenser look. + +"You have been her physician, I believe?" There was no sign of +feeling in the steady voice which made the inquiry. + +"Yes." + +"_I_ need not, in that case, describe to you her unhappy state of +mind. _I_ need not tell you that an evil will had the mastery over +her understanding, and that, in the fierce struggle of evil passion +with evil passion, mind and body had lost their right adjustment." + +"I know all this," said I. "Still, madam, in view of my professional +duty, I must repeat my question, and urge upon you the propriety of +an undisguised answer. In what way was she excited? and what was the +cause leading to an excitement which has ended thus fatally?" + +"I am not in the habit of putting on disguises," she answered, with +a quiet dignity that really looked beautiful. + +"I pray you, madam, not to misunderstand me," said I. "As a +physician, I must report the cause of all deaths in the range of my +practice. If I were not to do so in this case, a permit for burial +would not be issued until a regular inquest was held by the +Coroner." + +"Ah, I see," she replied, yet with an air of indecision. "You are +perfectly right, Doctor, and we must answer to your satisfaction. +But let us retire from this chamber." + +She led the way down stairs. As we passed the memorable north-west +room, she pushed the door open, and said, + +"Blanche, dear, I wish to see you. Come down to the parlor." + +I heard faintly the answer, in a very musical voice. We had scarcely +entered the parlor, when the lady said-- + +"My daughter, Doctor." + +A vision of beauty and innocence met my gaze. A young girl, not over +seventeen, tall like her mother, very fair, with a face just subdued +into something of womanly seriousness, stood in the door, as I +turned at mention of her presence. + +A single lamp gave its feeble light to the room, only half subduing +the shadows that went creeping into corners and recesses. Something +of a weird aspect was on every thing; and I could not but gaze at +the two strangers in that strange place to them, under such peculiar +circumstances, and wonder to see them so calm, dignified, and +self-possessed. We sat down by the table on which the lamp was +standing, the elder of the two opposite, and the younger a little +turned away, so that her features were nearly concealed. + +"Blanche," said the former, "the Doctor wishes to know the +particular incidents connected with the death of Mrs. Allen." + +I thought there was an uneasy movement on the part of the girl. She +did not reply. There was a pause. + +"The facts are simply these, Doctor," and the mother looked me +steadily in the face, which stood out clear, as the lamp shone full +on every feature. "From the moment of our arrival, Mrs. Allen has +seemed like one possessed of an evil Spirit. How she conducted +herself before, is known to me only as reported by the servants. +From the little they have communicated, I infer that for some time +past she has not been ii her right mind. How is it? You must know as +to her sanity or insanity." + +"She has not, in my opinion, been a truly sane woman for years," was +my answer. + +"As I just said," she continued, "she has seemed like one possessed +of an evil spirit. In no way could we soften or conciliate her. Her +conduct resembled more nearly that of some fierce wild beast whose +den was invaded, than that of a human being. She would hold no +friendly intercourse with us, and if we met at any time, or in any +part of the house, she would fix her keen black eyes upon us, with +an expression that sent a shudder to the heart. My daughter scarcely +dared venture from her room. She so dreaded to meet her. Twice, as +she flew past me, in her restless wanderings over the house, +muttering to herself, I heard her say, as she struck her clenched +hand in the air, 'I can do it again, and I will!'" + +A cold chill crept over me, for I remembered the death of Captain +Allen; and this was like a confirmation of what I had feared as to +foul play. + +"There is no trusting one wholly or even partially insane. So we +were always on our guard. Not once, but many times during the few +nights we have spent here, have we heard the door of our chamber +tried after midnight. It was plain to us that it was not safe to +live in this way, and so we had come to the reluctant conclusion +that personal restraint must be secured. The question as to how this +could best be done we had not yet decided, when death unraveled the +difficulty." + +The speaker ceased at this part of her narrative, and lifting from +the table a small bell, rung it. A maid entered. I had never seen +her before. + +"Tell Jackson that I want him." + +The girl curtsied respectfully, and withdrew. + +Nothing more was said, until a man, whom I recognized at a glance to +be a regularly trained English servant, presented himself. + +"Jackson," said the lady, "I wish you to relate exactly, what +occurred just previously to, and at the time of Mrs. Allen's death." + +The man looked bewildered for a moment or two; but soon recovering +himself, answered without hesitation. + +"Hit 'appened just in this way, ma'am. I was a comin' hup stairs, +when I met the hold lady a tearin' down like a mad cat. She looked +kind o' awful. I never saw anybody out of an 'ospital look that way +in all my life before. She 'eld an hiron poker in 'er 'and. As my +young lady--" and he looked towards Blanche--" was in the 'all, I +didn't think it safe for 'er if I let the hold woman go down. So I +just stood in 'er way, and put my harms across the stairs +so"--stretching his arms out. "My! but 'ow she did fire up! She +stood almost a minute, and then sprung on me as if she was a tiger. +But I was the strongest, and 'olding 'er in my harms like as I would +a mad kitten, I carried 'er hup to 'er room, put 'er hin, and shut +the door. My young lady saw it hall, for she followed right hup +after me." + +He looked towards Blanche. + +"Just as it occurred," she said, in a low, sweet fluttering voice. + +"I heard the strife," said her mother, "and ran up to see what was +the matter. I reached the door of Mrs. Allen's room just as Jackson +thrust her in. He did not use any more violence than was needed in a +case of such sudden emergency. He is strong, and held her so tightly +that she could not even struggle. One wild, fierce scream rent the +air, as he shut the door, and then all was silent as death. I went +in to her instantly. She was on the floor in a convulsion. You were +sent for immediately; but it was too late for human intervention. +Jackson, you can go." + +The man bowed with an air of deferential respect, and retired. + +"Now, sir," she added, turning to me, "you have the facts as they +occurred. I have no wish to give them publicity, for they are family +matters, and these are always in their degree, sacred. If, however, +you think it your duty as a physician, to make the matter one of +official investigation, I can have nothing to say." + +I thought for some minutes before answering. The story, as related +by the servant, I fully credited. + +"Let me see the body again," said I, coming at length to a +conclusion. + +We went up stairs, all three together; but only two of us entered +the chamber of death. As we neared the door, Blanche caught at her +mother's arm, and I heard her say, in a whisper: + +"Dear mamma! spare me that sight again. It is too horrible!" + +"The presence of your daughter is not needed," said I, interposing. +"Let her retire to her own room." + +"Thank you!" There was a grateful expression in her voice, as she +uttered these brief words, and then went back, while we passed in to +the apartment where the dead woman was still lying. + +As I looked upon her face again, it seemed even more ghastly than +before; and I could hardly repress a shudder. My companion held a +lamp; while I made as careful an examination as was possible under +the circumstances. I did not expect to find any marks of violence, +though I searched for them about her head, neck, and chest. But, +under the circumstances, I felt it to be my duty to know, from +actual search, that no such signs existed. In every aspect presented +by the corpse, there was a corroboration of the story related by the +serving man. It was plain, that in a fit of half insane, +uncontrollable passion, the nice adjustment of physical forces had +been lost. + +"I am fully satisfied, madam," said I, at length, turning from my +unpleasant task. + +She let her calm, earnest eyes dwell on mine for a few moments, and +then answered, with a softened tone, in which there was just a +perceptible thrill of feeling-- + +"If I were a believer in omens, I should take this sad incident, +following so quickly on our removal to a new country and a new home, +as foreshadowing evil to me or mine. But I do not so read external +events." + +"Between a life like hers, and a life like yours, madam, there can +be no possible nearness; nor any relation between your spiritual +affinities and hers. The antipodes are not farther apart," said I, +in return; "therefore, nothing that has befallen her can be ominous +as to you." + +"I trust not," she gravely answered, as we left the room together. + +To my inquiry if I could serve her in any way, in the present +matter, she simply requested me to send a respectable undertaker, +who would perform what was fitting in the last rites due to the +dead. + +I promised, and retired. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + + + +The appearance, manner, and bearing of the two strangers impressed +me strongly. The elder had evidently moved in refined and cultivated +society all her life. There was about her the air of "a lady, born +and bred"--dignified, calm, easy, and courteous. The daughter was a +lovely blossom on this stately stem--delicate, beautiful, sweet with +the odors of innocence. I see her now as I saw her on that first +night of our meeting--to my eyes a new born vision of loveliness. + +I found Constance awaiting, with curious interest, my return. I was +going right into the heart of this new wonder, and could not fail to +bring back some revelation that would satisfy, in a measure, the +excitement of mind produced by so singular an intrusion of strangers +upon our quiet town. I answered her first look of inquiry by the +words:-- + +"It is over. Another book of life is sealed up here to be opened in +eternity." + +"Dead! Not dead?" + +"Yes, Constance, Mrs. Allen is dead. Her spirit had passed away +before my arrival." + +"How did she die?--from what cause?" + +"From what I can learn she died in a fit of passion." I then related +all that I had seen and heard. + +"But who can they be?" This query came as a natural sequence. "What +right have they in the Allen House?" + +"Whoever they may be," I replied, "they act, or, at least, the elder +of the two ladies acts as if her right there was not even open to a +question. And, perhaps, it is not." + +"But what can they be to the Allens?" + +"I will give you," said I, "the benefit of my guessing on the +subject. You recollect the story told about Captain Allen's mother; +how she went off a great many years ago with a stranger--an +Englishman." + +Constance remembered all about this family history, for it was the +romance of our town. + +"My conclusion is that this lady is the sister of Captain Allen--the +child that his mother took with her when she fled from her husband's +house. I am strengthened in this belief from the first impression of +her voice, as if the tones had in them something familiar." + +We talked this matter over, looking at it in every way, until we +satisfied ourselves that my conjectures must be true. The quiet +manner in which they had intruded themselves, and taken possession +of the house--unheralded as far as we knew--could not but present +itself to our minds as a matter of special wonder. The more we +conned it over the more we were puzzled. Before coming home I had +called at an undertaker's, and notified him that his services were +wanted at the Allen House. Early on the next day I took the liberty +of calling there myself. I sent up my name, and awaited, with some +interest, my reception. The visit might be regarded as an intrusion, +and I was prepared to receive a message from the lady asking to be +excused. Not so, however. I had been seated only a few moments, when +I heard the rustle of her garments on the stairs. My first glance at +her face assured me that I was no unwelcome visitor. + +"Thank you, Doctor," she said, as she extended her hand, "for this +early call. Our meeting last night for the first time can hardly be +called a pleasant one--or the associations connected with it such as +either of us might wish to recall." + +"Our control over events is so slight," I made answer as I resumed +my seat, "that we should separate unpleasant feelings as far as +possible from any memories connected with them." + +A faint, sad smile just lightened up her placid face as she said, in +reply to the remark. + +"Ah, Doctor, that may not be. Lives are too intimately blended here +for any one to suffer or do wrong without leaving a burden of +sadness on other memories." + +"True; but the burden will be light or heavy according to our +strength." + +She looked at me without replying, for the remark was so palpable, +that it seemed to involve nothing beyond a literal fact. + +"Or rather," I said, "the burden will be heavy or light according to +our state or quality." + +There was a sign of awakening interest in her countenance as if my +remark had touched some hidden spring of thought. + +"If we are right with ourselves," I went on, "the disturbance +produced by others' misconduct will not reach very far down. The +pressure of sadness may lie upon us for a season; but cannot long +remain; for the pure heart will lift itself into serene +atmospheres." + +"But, who is right with himself?" she said. "Whose heart is pure +enough to dwell in these serene atmospheres? Not mine, alas!" + +I looked into the suddenly illuminated face as she put these +questions, in surprise at the quick change which had passed over it. +But the tone in which she uttered the closing sentence was touched +with tender sadness. + +"Rather let me say," I made answer, "_in the degree_ that we are +right with ourselves. None attain unto perfection here." + +"Yet," said the lady, with a sweet calmness of manner that made her +look beautiful, "is it not pleasant to imagine a state of +perfection--or rather a state in which evil is quiescent, and the +heart active with all good and loving impulses? How full of +inspiration is such an ideal of life! But the way by which we must +go, if we would rise into this state, is one of difficulty and +perpetual warfare. The enemies of our peace are numbered by myriads; +and they. seek with deadly hatred to do us harm." + +"And yet are powerless," said I, "if we keep the outworks of our +lives in order." + +"Yes," she answered, "it is the very ultimate or last things of our +lives where the power of repulsion resides. We can, in temptation, +be it ever so strong, refuse to _act_ in the wrong direction--refuse +to do an evil thing, because it is sinful. And this is our bulwark; +this is our tower of safety; for it is only in _wrong doing_ that +our enemies gain the victory over us. They may assault us never so +fiercely--may dazzle our eyes with the glitter of this world's most +alluring things--may stir the latent envy, malice, pride, or +dishonesty, that lurks in every heart; but if we stand still, hold +back our hands and stay our feet--if we give our resolute 'No' to +all enticements, and keep our _actions_ free from evil, all hell +cannot prevail against us. God will take care of the interior of our +lives, and make them pure and heavenly, if we resist evil in the +exterior. But, pardon me; I did not mean to read you a homily." + +She smiled with a grave sort of smile, and then sat silent. + +"I like your way of talking," said I. There was something about the +lady that put me at ease with her, and I said this without reserve, +as if I were speaking to a friend. "It looks to higher things in +life than people usually regard as worthy of our chief +consideration. To most of us, the outer world offers the highest +attractions; only the few turn inwardly to the more beautiful world +of mind." + +"Outward things fade--change--die; only spiritual things dwell in +unfading beauty. We are in a world of mere effects as to our bodies; +but the soul lives in the world of causes. Do we not spend a vain +and unprofitable life, then, if we go on building, day after day, +our tabernacle on the ever-shifting sands of time, instead of upon +the immoveable Rock of Ages? But who is guiltless of this folly? Not +I! not I!" + +Again that calm, earnest voice fell to a lower key, and was veiled +by a tender sadness. + +"It is something gained," she added, with returning firmness of +tone, "if, even after the sharp lessons of many years, we get +glimpses of Truth, and are willing to follow, though it be at a far +distance, the light she holds aloft. Yes, it is something +gained--something gained!" + +She spoke the last words as if merely thinking aloud, and not +addressing an auditor. + +"Can I aid you in anything, madam?" said I, breaking in upon a state +of reverie into which her mind seemed to be falling. "The +circumstances under which you find yourself are peculiar--I refer to +the death of Mrs. Allen, following so quickly on your arrival among +strangers--and you may stand in need of friendly service from one +who knows the people and their ways. If so, do not hesitate to +command me." + +"I thank you sincerely," she answered, unbending still more from her +almost stately manner. "Friendly consideration I shall need, of +course--as who does not in this world? And I repeat my thanks, that +you have so kindly and so promptly anticipated my needs So far as +the remains of my unhappy kinswoman are concerned, I have referred +all to the undertaker. He will carry out my wishes. To-morrow the +interment will take place. On the day following, if it it is altogether +agreeable to yourself, I would esteem a call as a particular favor." + +I arose, as she concluded the last sentence, saying as I did so, + +"I will be sure to call, madam; and render any service in my power. +You may regard me as a friend." + +"Already you have extorted my confidence," she answered, faintly +smiling. + +I bowed low, and was retiring when she said-- + +"A moment, Doctor!" + +I turned toward her again. + +"Doctor, it may be well for you to see my daughter." + +"Is she indisposed?" I asked. + +"Not exactly that. But the excitement and alarm of the last two or +three days have been, I fear, rather too much for her nerves. I say +alarm, for the poor girl was really frightened at Mrs. Allen's wild +conduct--and no wonder. Death following in so sad a way, shocked her +painfully. She did not sleep well last night; and this morning she +looks pale and drooping. In all probability, quiet of mind and body +will soon adjust the balance of health; still, it may be safest for +you to see her." + +"A mere temporary disturbance, no doubt, which, as you suggest, +quiet of mind and body will, in all probability, overcome. Yet it +will do no harm for me to see her; and may save trouble." + +"Excuse me a moment," she said, and left the room. In a little while +she returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs, + +I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a +lounge. She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face, +which subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary +looking. After we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in +the palm, but cold at the extremities. Her pulse was feeble, +disturbed, and quick. + +"How is your head?" I asked. + +"It feels a little strangely," she replied, moving it two or three +times, as if to get some well defined sensation. + +"Any pain?" + +"Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep +into my head." + +"What general bodily sensation have you? Any that you can speak of +definitely?" + +"None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness. When I raise my +arm, it seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and +wish to be at rest." + +"Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now," +said I. Then addressing her mother, I added--"I think your daughter +had better lie down. Let her room be shaded and kept quiet. She +needs rest and sleep. Sleep is one of nature's great restorers." + +"Will you make no prescription, Doctor?" the mother asked. + +I reflected on the symptoms exhibited, for a few moments, and then +said, + +"Nothing beyond repose, now. I trust that nature, as the pressure is +removed, will work all right again." + +"You will call in again to-day." + +"Yes; towards evening I will see your daughter, when I hope to find +her improved in every way." + +I spoke with a cheerfulness of manner that did not altogether +express my feelings in the case; for, there were some indications, +not yet clear enough for a diagnosis, that awakened slight concern. +As I did not wish to go wrong in my first prescription, I deemed it +better to wait a few hours, and see how nature would succeed in her +efforts to repel the enemy. So I went away, with a promise to call +again early in the afternoon. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + + + +It was between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, when I called +again at the Allen House. An old colored servant, who had been in +the family ever since my remembrance--she went by the name of +"Aunty"--was standing by the gate as I alighted from my chaise. + +"'Deed, massa, Ise glad you come," said she in a troubled way. + +"Why so, Aunty? No body very sick, I hope." + +"'Deed, an dar is den; else old Aunty don't know nothin'." + +"Who?" + +"Why dat blessed young lady what drapped in among us, as if she'd +come right down from Heaven. I was jest a gwine to run down an' ax +you to come and see her right away." + +I did not linger to talk with "Aunty," but went forward to the +house. The mother of Blanche met me at the door. She looked very +anxious. + +"How is your daughter now?" I asked. + +"Not so well as when you saw her this morning," she answered. Her +voice trembled. + +"I would have called earlier, but have been visiting a patient +several miles away." + +"She has been lying in a kind of stupor ever since you were here. +What can it mean, Doctor?" + +The mother looked intently in my face, and paused for an answer, +with her lips apart. But I knew as little as she what it meant. Ah! +how often do anxious friends question us, and hearken eagerly for +our replies, when the signs of disease are yet too indefinite for +any clear diagnosis! + +"I can tell better after seeing your daughter," said I. And we went +up to the sick girl's chamber; that north-west room, at the window +of which I had first seen the fair stranger, as I stood wondering in +storm and darkness. I found her lying in apparent sleep, and +breathing heavily. Her face was flushed; and I noticed the peculiar +odor that usually accompanies an eruptive fever. + +"How do you feel now?" I asked. + +She had opened her eyes as I took her hand. She did not answer, but +looked at me in a half bewildered way. Her skin was hot and the +pulse small, but tense and corded. + +"Does your head ache?" + +I wished to arouse her to external consciousness. + +"Oh, it's you, Doctor." + +She recognized me and smiled faintly. + +"How are you now?" I inquired. + +"Not so well, I think, Doctor," she answered. "My head aches worse +than it did; and I feel sick all over. I don't know what can ail +me." + +"Have you any uneasiness, or sense of oppression in the stomach?" I +inquired. + +"Oh, yes, Doctor." She laid her hand upon her chest; and drew in a +long breath, as if trying to get relief. + +"Have you felt as well as usual for a week, or ten days past?" I +inquired. + +"No, Doctor." It was the mother who answered my question. "And in +order that you may understand the case clearly, let me say, that it +is only a week since we arrived from England. We came over in a +steamer, and were fifteen days in making the trip. From Boston, we +came here in our own carriage. Before leaving home, Blanche went +around to see a number of poor cottagers in our neighbourhood, and +there was sickness at several of the places where she called. In one +cottage, particularly, was a case of low fever. I was troubled when +I learned that she had been there, but still hoped that her +excellent state of health would repel anything like contagion. +During the first part of our voyage, she suffered considerably from +sea-sickness; but got along very well after that. If it hadn't been +for the unhappy scenes of the last few days, with their painfully +exciting consummation, I think she would have thrown off, wholly, +any lurking tendency to disease." + +I turned my face partly aside, so that its expression could not be +seen. The facts stated, and the symptoms as now presented, left me +in little doubt as to the nature of the malady against which I had +to contend. Even while her mother talked, my patient fell away into +the stupor from which I had aroused her. + +My treatment of the case coincided with the practice of men eminent +in the school of medicine to which I then belonged. I am not a +disciple of that school now, having found a system of exacter +science, and one compassing more certain results with smaller risk +and less waste of physical energy. + +In order to remove the uneasiness of which my patient complained, I +gave an emetic. Its action was salutary, causing a determination +towards the skin, and opening the pores, as well as relieving the +oppression from which she suffered. + +"How is your head now?" I asked, after she had been quiet for some +minutes. + +"Better. I feel scarcely any pain." + +"So far, all is right," said I, cheerfully. + +The mother looked at me with an anxious face. I arose, and we +retired from the room together. Before leaving, I spoke +encouragingly to my patient, and promised to see her early in the +morning. + +"My daughter is very sick, Doctor. What is the disease?" The mother +spoke calmly and firmly. "I am not one towards whom any concealments +need be practised; and it is meet that I should know the worst, that +I may do the best." + +"The disease, madam," I replied, "has not yet put on all of its +distinctive signs. A fever--we call it the fever of incubation--is +the forerunner of several very different ailments, and, at the +beginning, the most accurate eye may fail to see what is beyond. In +the present case, however, I think that typhoid fever is indicated." + +I spoke as evenly as possible, and with as little apparent concern +as possible. But I saw the blood go instantly back from the mother's +face. + +"Typhoid fever!" she ejaculated, in a low voice, clasping her hands +together. I learned afterwards that she had cause to dread this +exhausting and often fatal disease. "Oh, Doctor! do for her as if +she were your own and only child." + +She grasped my arm, like one catching at a fleeting hope. + +"As if she were my own and only child!" I repeated her words in +promise and assurance, adding-- + +"The first result of the medicine which I gave is just what I +desired. I will leave something more to be taken at intervals of two +hours, until midnight. In the morning, I hope to find a very +encouraging change." + +"But, Doctor," she replied, "if this is a case of typhoid fever, no +hope of any quick change for the better can be entertained. I am no +stranger to the fearful malady." + +"Attacks of all diseases," I answered to this, "are more or less +severe, according to the nature of the predisposing and exciting +causes. So far as your daughter is concerned, I should think, from +the very slight opportunity I have had of forming an opinion in +regard to her, that she is not readily susceptible of morbific +intrusions. Under an unusual exposure to exciting causes, the +balance of health has been overcome. If my presumption is correct, +we have the steady effort of nature, in co-operation with remedial +agencies, working towards a cure." + +"Do you think the attack light, or severe?" the mother asked, +speaking more calmly. + +"Neither light nor severe; but of a character, judging from the +first impression made upon it, entirely controllable by medicines." + +This opinion gave her confidence. As I had spoken without any +apparent concealment, she evidently believed the case to stand +exactly as I had stated it. After leaving medicine to be taken, +every two hours, for the first part of the night, I went away. + +In the morning, I found my patient in that comatose state, the usual +attendant upon typhoid fever. She aroused herself on my entrance, +and answered all questions clearly. She had no pain in the head, nor +any distressing symptoms. Her skin was soft and moist. All things +looked favorable. I gave, now, only gentle diaphoretics, and let the +case progress, watching it with the closest attention. In this, I +followed my usual course of treatment as to giving medicines. If I +could produce a reaction, or remove some obstruction, and give +nature a chance, I did not think it wise to keep on with drugs, +which, from their general poisonous qualities, make even well people +sick--regarding the struggle of life with disease as hazardous +enough, without increasing the risk by adding a new cause of +disturbance, unless the need of its presence were unmistakably +indicated. + +The course of this fever is always slow and exhausting. My patient +sunk steadily, day by day, while I continued to watch the case with +more than common anxiety. At the end of a week, she was feeble as an +infant, and lay, for the most part, in a state of coma. I visited +her two or three times every day, and had the thought of her almost +constantly in my mind. Her mother, nerved for the occasion, was +calm, patient, and untiring. The excitement which appeared on the +occasion of my first visits, when there was doubt as to the +character of the disease, passed away, and never showed itself again +during her daughter's illness. I saw, daily, deeper into her +character, which more and more impressed me with its simple +grandeur, if I may use the word in this connection. There was +nothing trifling, mean, or unwomanly about her. Her mind seemed to +rest with a profoundly rational, and at the same time child-like +trust, in Providence. Fear did not unnerve her, nor anxiety stay her +hands in any thing. She met me, at every visit, with dignified +self-possession, and received my report of the case, each time, +without visible emotion. I had not attempted to deceive her in any +thing from the beginning; she had seen this, and the fact gave her +confidence in all my statements touching her daughter's condition. + +At the end of a week, I commenced giving stimulants, selecting, as +the chief article, sound old Maderia wine. The effect was soon +apparent, in a firmer pulse and a quickened vitality. The lethargic +condition in which she had lain for most of the time since the +commencement of the attack, began to give way, and in a much shorter +period than is usually the case, in this disease, we had the +unmistakable signs of convalescence. + +"Thank God, who, by means of your skill, has given me back my +precious child!" said the mother to me, one day, after Blanche was +able to sit up in bed. She took my hand and grasped it tightly. I +saw that she was deeply moved. I merely answered: + +"With Him are the issues of life." + +"And I have tried to leave all with Him," she said. "To be willing +to suffer even that loss, the bare thought of which makes me +shudder. But I am not equal to the trial, and in mercy He has spared +me." + +"He is full of compassion, and gracious. He knows our strength, and +will not test it beyond the limits of endurance." + +"Doctor," she said, a light coming into her face, "I have much to +say to you, but not now. I think you can understand me." + +I merely bowed. + +"There is one thing," she went on, "that I have liked in you from +the beginning. I am to you a total stranger, and my presence in this +house is a fact that must awaken many questions in your mind. Yet +you have shown no restless curiosity, have plied me with no leading +questions, have left me free to speak, or keep silence. There is a +manly courtesy about this that accords with my feelings." + +I bowed again, but did not venture upon mere words of compliment. + +"I am not sure," said she, "that my name even is known to you." + +"It is not," I answered. "You have seemed to avoid any allusion +thereto, and delicacy forbade my asking." + +"There has been no purposed concealment. My name is Montgomery; and +I am sister to the late Captain Allen." + +"I had already inferred this relationship." The remark evidently +surprised her. + +"On what ground could you base such an inference?" she asked, +curiously. + +"On traditional ground. The history of this old mansion is familiar +to most persons in S----; and some of the incidents connected with +the family have too strong a tinge of romance about them to easily +pass into oblivion. It is well known to us that Captain Allen had an +only sister." + +"What is it said became of her?" + +"When she was about two years of age her mother carried her off, +sailing, as was believed, to England, of which country she was a +native." + +"Is the name of the child preserved in this tradition?" + +"Yes. It was Flora." + +"My own name," she said. + +"And in person you are identical." + +"Yes. My mother's early life embraced some dreadful experiences. Her +father and mother, with two brothers and a younger sister, were all +murdered by pirates. She alone was spared, and afterwards became the +wife of a sea captain, who, I fear, was not a man innocent of blood. +On this point, however, my mother was reserved, almost silent. In +the course of time she grew so wretched, as the wife of this man, +that she sent a letter to England, addressed to some remembered +relative, imploring him to save her from a life that was worse than +death. This letter fell into the right hands. A cousin was sent out +from England, and she fled with him. No attempt, as far as we know, +was ever made to follow and regain her She did not live many years +afterwards. I grew up among my relatives, ignorant of her history. +My memory of her is distinct, though she died when I was but eight +years old. + +"I married, at the age of twenty-six, an officer in the British +army, one of the younger sons in a titled family, for whom no way in +the world is opened, except through the church or the battle-field. +General Montgomery chose the profession of a soldier, not from a +love of its exciting and fearful concomitants, but because he had no +fancy for the gown and cassock, and could not be a hypocrite in +religion. He went quite early to British India, and distinguished +himself there by many acts of bravery, as well as by his humane and +honorable conduct. So highly was he regarded by the East India +Company, that he was selected for most important services, and +assigned to posts of great responsibility. He was past thirty years +of age when I met him, on the occasion of one of his visits to +England. The attraction was mutual; and when he returned to +Calcutta, I went with him as his wife. Then came twenty years of a +happy married life;--happy, I mean, so far as a perfect union of +souls can make us happy in this world, but miserable, at times, +through intense anxiety for the absent one exposed to fearful +perils. + +"We had three children." There was a tremor in the voice of Mrs. +Montgomery as she referred to her children. "One only remains." She +paused, as if to recover herself, and then went on. + +"I lost my husband first. Ten years ago, he fell at the post of +duty, and, while my heart lay crushed and bleeding under the +terrible blow, it leaped with throbbings of pride, as his honored +name went sounding from lip to lip, and from land to land. I had not +the sad pleasure of being with him in that last time. For the sake +of our children, I was residing in England. + +"Troubles rarely come alone. Two years afterwards my oldest son +died. My home was in the family of General Montgomery, where I was +treated with great kindness; but as my income was not sufficient for +an establishment of my own, I felt a sense of obligation that is +always oppressive to one of my nature. This feeling grew upon me +daily, and at last began to haunt me like a constantly re-appearing +spectre. It is now about three years since, in looking over some old +letters and papers, I came unexpectedly upon a document written by +my mother--all the evidence as to this was clear--and addressed to +myself. How it should have remained so long unobserved, and yet in +my possession, is one of the mysterious things which I do not +attempt to explain. There is a Providence in all things, even to the +most minute, and I simply refer the fact to Providence, and leave it +there. This document spoke briefly, but with no special +particularity, of her marriage with a Captain Allen, and settlement +in this town. It stated that she had two children, a son and a +daughter, and that in leaving America for England, she had taken her +daughter, but left the son behind. There was no suggestion as to the +use to be made of these facts; but there was such a statement of +them as left their verification, I thought, easy. I turned them over +and over in my mind, and in the end resolved to gain all accessible +information touching the present condition of things. To this end, I +sent over about two years ago, a man of prudence and intelligence, +versed in legal matters, with instructions to obtain all possible +particulars in regard to my brother, his family and estate. He +brought back word that my brother was dead; that he had left no +children, and that his widow--if, indeed, she were ever his legal +wife, which seemed to be doubted--was old, in poor health, and +verging towards mental imbecility, if not insanity. That there was a +large and valuable estate, to which I, as sister of Captain Allen, +was undoubtedly the heir. + +"I kept these things, for the time being, to myself, and pondered +over them in some perplexity as to the best course to take. But from +these thoughts, my mind was soon turned by the illness of my oldest +daughter. After a lingering sickness of many weeks, she died. It +seemed almost impossible to arouse myself from the stunning effects +of this blow. It crushed me down more than any previous sorrow, for +it fell upon a heart weakened by pain. It was many months before the +discipline of this affliction awakened me to thoughts of a higher +life. Then I began to rise into serener heights--to see as by an +interior vision, to believe that even our saddest things may fall +upon us in mercy. + +"Finally, circumstances of which I need not speak, made me resolve +to leave England, and under legal advice of the highest authority, +take quiet possession of this estate, which is mine." + +Mrs. Montgomery ceased speaking. + +"Perhaps," she resumed, after a moment, "it may be as well, all +things considered, that you do not speak of this for the present. I +shall, as soon as my daughter's full recovery gives me time to enter +into the subject, place my affairs in the hands of a safe legal +agent, in order that they may assume due form and order. You can, no +doubt, refer me to the right individual." + +"I can," was my reply. "Judge Bigelow, of our town, is the man. I +speak of him with the utmost confidence." + +"Thank you, Doctor. You lay me under additional obligation," she +said. "I will, at an early day consult him." + +Thus closed this deeply interesting interview. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + + + +I attended Blanche Montgomery through her slow convalescence, and +had many opportunities for observing her and her mother closely. The +more intimately I knew them the higher did they rise in my +estimation. A purer, sweeter, truer-hearted girl than Blanche I had +never seen. There was an artlessness and innocence about her but +rarely met with in young ladies of her age. Especially was she free +from that worldliness and levity which so often mars young +maidenhood. Her mind was well stored and cultivated, and she was +beginning to use her mental treasures in a way that interested you, +and made you listen with pleased attention when she spoke on even +common-place subjects. Her manners had in them a grace and dignity +that was very attractive. As she advanced towards health her +deportment took on an easy, confiding air, as if she looked upon me +as a true friend. Her smile, whenever I appeared, broke over her +gentle face like a gleam of sunshine. + +Mrs. Montgomery's manner towards me was distinguished by the same +frankness that marked her daughter's deportment. The stately air +that struck me in the beginning I no longer observed. If it existed, +my eyes saw it differently. At her request, when her mind was +sufficiently at ease about her daughter to busy itself with the +common affairs of life, I brought Judge Bigelow to see her, and she +placed her business matters in his hands. The judge was very much +struck with her person and manner, and told me the day after his +first meeting with her that she came nearer to his ideal of a lady +than any woman he had ever met; and as for the daughter she seemed +more like a picture he had once seen than a piece of real flesh and +blood. I smiled at the Judge's enthusiasm, but did not wonder at the +impression he had received. + +Other characters in our story now claim attention, and we must turn +to them. After Henry Wallingford had gained the mastery over +himself:--the struggle was wild, but brief--he resumed his office +duties as usual, and few noticed any change in him, except that he +withdrew even more than ever into himself. I met him occasionally, +and observed him closely. In my eyes there was a marked difference +in the aspect of his face. It had an expression of patient suffering +at times--and again I saw in it a most touching sadness. + +The dashing nephew of Judge Bigelow offered himself to Squire +Floyd's daughter in about a week after her rejection of +Wallingford's suit, and was accepted. I became immediately cognizant +of the fact through my wife, who had the news from Delia's aunt, +Mrs. Dean. A day or two afterwards I met her in company with young +Dewey, and observed her closely. Alas! In my eyes the work of moral +retrocession had already begun. She was gay and chatty, and her +countenance fresh and blooming. But I missed something--something +the absence of which awakened a sigh of regret. Ralph was very +lover-like in his deportment, fluttering about Delia, complimenting +her, and showing her many obtrusive attentions. But eyes that were +in the habit of looking below the surface of things, saw no heart in +it all. + +Squire Floyd was delighted with his daughter's fine prospects; and +he and Judge Bigelow drew their heads together over the affair in a +cosy and confidential way very pleasant to both of them. The Judge +was eloquent touching his nephew's fine qualities and splendid +prospects; and congratulated the Squire, time and again, on his +daughter's fortunate matrimonial speculation. He used the word which +was significative beyond any thing that entered his imagination. + +A few days after the engagement Ralph Dewey returned to New York. +The wedding-day had not been fixed; but the marriage, as understood +by all parties, was to take place some time during the next winter. + +From that time I noticed a change in Delia. She grew silent in +company, and had an absent way about her that contrasted strongly +with her former social disposition. Young people rallied her in the +usual style about her heart being absent with the beloved one, but I +read the signs differently. It could not but follow, that a soul, +endowed like hers, would have misgivings in view of an alliance with +one like Ralph Dewey. What was there in him to satisfy a true +woman's yearnings for conjunction with a kindred nature? Nothing! He +was all outside as to good. A mere selfish, superficial, speculating +man of the world. While she had a heart capable of the deepest and +truest affection. Would he make the fitting complement to her life? +Alas! No! That were a thing impossible. + +During the few months that preceded this marriage, I often heard its +promise discussed by my wife and Mrs. Dean, neither of whom had any +strong liking for the young New York merchant. + +"It's my opinion," said Mrs. Dean, as she sat with my wife one +evening, about two months after the engagement had taken place, +"that Ralph has more froth than substance about him. He really +talks, sometimes, as if he had the world in a sling and could toss +it up among the stars. As far as my observation goes, such people +flourish only for a season." + +"If Delia were a child of mine," said my good Constance, in her +earnest way, "I would a thousand times rather trust her with Henry +Wallingford than with Ralph Dewey." + +"Yes, and a thousand millions of times," responded Mrs. Dean. "He is +a man. You know just what he is, and where he is. But, as for this +splashing nephew of Judge Bigelow's--who knows what's below the +surface? Delia's father is all taken up with him, and thinks the +match a splendid one. Sister don't say much; but I can see that she +has her misgivings. I can talk to you freely, you know." + +"I don't think," said I, "that Delia has grown more cheerful since +her engagement. Brides expectant ought to feel as happy as the day +is long." + +"More cheerful? Oh, dear, no! She isn't the same that she was at +all; but mopes about more than half of her time. It's just my +opinion--spoken between friends--that she cares, now, a great deal +more for Henry than she does for Ralph." + +"Do they ever meet?" I inquired. + +"Not very often." + +"They have met?" + +"Yes, several times." + +"Have you seen them together?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"How does she act towards him?" + +"Not always the same. Sometimes she is talkative, and sometimes +reserved--sometimes as gay as a lark, and sometimes sober enough; as +if there were such a weight on her spirits, that she could not smile +without an effort." + +"Does the fact of his presence make any change in her?" I inquired. +"What I mean is, if she were lively in spirits before he came in, +would she grow serious--or if serious, grow excited?" + +"Oh, yes, it always makes a change. I've known her, after being very +quiet, and hardly having any thing to say, though in the midst of +young company, grow all at once as merry as a cricket, and laugh and +joke in a wild sort of way. And again, when she has been in one of +her old, pleasant states of mind I have noticed that she all at once +drew back into herself; I could trace the cause to only this--the +presence of Henry Wallingford. But this doesn't often happen, for he +rarely shows himself in company." + +"Is there anything noticeable about Henry when they meet?" I asked. + +"Not to an ordinary observer," replied Mrs. Dean. "But I look with +sharper eyes than most people. Yes, there is something noticeable. +He always puts himself in her way, but with a kind of forced, +resolute manner, as if the act were a trial of strength, and +involved a stern heart-discipline. And this I think, is just the +real state of the case. He has deliberately and resolutely entered +upon the work of unwinding from his heart the cord which love his +thrown around it in so many intertwisted folds. So I read him. To +break it by sudden force, would leave so many unwound portions +behind, that the memory of her might sadden the whole of his +after-life. And so he is learning to grow indifferent towards her. +To search in her for such things as repel, instead of for those that +charm the heart." + +"A dangerous experiment," said my wife, "for one who has loved so +deeply." + +"It would be to most men," I remarked. "But there is stuff about +Henry--the stuff that strong, persistent, successful men are made +of. If he has begun this work, he will complete it certainly." + +A few weeks afterwards, I had an opportunity of seeing them +together, and I improved it to observe them closely. It was in a +mixed company at the house of Judge Bigelow. Wallingford came in +rather late. I was conversing with Delia when he entered the room, +and we were at an interesting point in the subject under +consideration. I noticed, all at once, a hesitation and confusion of +thought, as her eyes rested, with a sudden interest, on some object +in the room. Glancing around, I saw the young man. We went on with +our conversation, Delia rallying herself, as I could see, with an +effort. But she talked no longer from thought, only from +memory--uttering mere truisms and common-places. She put on more +animation, and affected a deeper interest; but I was not deceived. + +We were still in conversation, when Wallingford joined us. I saw him +fix his eyes, as they met, searchingly upon her face, and saw her +eyes droop away from his. He was fully self-possessed; she not at +ease. His mind was clear; hers in some confusion. I remained some +time near them, listening to their conversation, and joining in +occasionally. Never before had I seen him appear so well, nor her to +such poor advantage. She tried to act a part--he was himself. I +noticed, as he led the conversation, that he kept away from the +esthetic, and held her thought in the region of moral causes; that +he dwelt on the ends and purposes of life, as involving everything. +Now and then she essayed a feeble argument, or met some of his +propositions with light banter. But with a word he obliterated the +sophism--and with a glance repressed the badinage. I think she could +never before have so felt the superiority of this man, whose pure +love--almost worship--she had put aside as a thing of light +importance; and I think the interview helped him in the work upon +which he had entered, that of obliterating from his heart all traces +of her image. + +After this interview, they did not draw together again during the +evening. Delia tried to be gay and indifferent; but he acted himself +out just as he was. I did not observe that he was more social than +usual, or that he mingled more than was his wont with the young +ladies present. For most of the time, he kept, as was usual with +him, in company and in conversation with his own sex. + +I could not but pity Delia Floyd. It was plain to me that she was +waking up to the sad error she had committed--an error, the +consequences of which would go with her through life. Very, very far +was she from being indifferent to Wallingford--that I could plainly +see. + +During the winter, Ralph came up frequently from New York to visit +his bride to be. As he was the nephew of Judge Bigelow, he and +Wallingford were, as a thing of course, thrown often together during +these visits. It can hardly excite wonder, that Wallingford +maintained a reserved and distant demeanor towards the young man, +steadily repelling all familiarity, yet always treating him with +such politeness and respect that no cause of offence could appear. +On the part of Dewey, it may be said that he saw little in the grave +plodder among dusty law books and discolored parchments, that won +upon his regard. He looked upon him as a young man good enough in +his way--a very small way, in his estimation--good enough for S----, +and small enough for a country town lawyer. He would have put on +towards him a patronizing air, and tried to excite in his mind a +nobler ambition than to move in our circumscribed sphere, if +something in the young man's steady, penetrating, half-mysterious +eye had not always held him back: + +"I never can talk with that young associate or yours, uncle," he +would say, now and then, to Judge Bigelow, "and I can't just make +him out. Is he stupid, or queer?" + +The Judge would smile, or laugh quietly to himself, or perhaps +answer in this wise: + +"I think Henry understands himself. Still waters, you know, run +deep." + +One day in February, on the occasion of a periodical visit to S----, +young Dewey called in at Judge Bigelow's office, and finding +Wallingford alone, sat down and entered into as familiar a talk with +him as was possible, considering how little they had in common. +Ralph had a purpose in view, and as soon as he saw, or thought he +saw, Wallingford's mind in the right mood, said-- + +"I am going to ask a particular favor, and you must not refuse." + +"If I can serve you in any thing, it will be my pleasure to do so," +was the ready answer. + +"You know that I am to be married next month?" + +"So I have heard," replied Wallingford. + +"You will stand my groomsman? Don't say no!" + +He had seen an instant negative in the young man's face. + +"Almost any thing else, but not that!" replied Henry, speaking with +some feeling. He was thrown off his guard by so unexpected a +request. + +"Come now, my good friend, don't take the matter so much to heart!" +said Dewey, in a light way. "Plenty of good fish in the sea yet--as +good as ever were caught. You must forgive the girl for liking me +the best." + +"You jest on a grave subject," said Wallingford, his face growing +pale, but his eyes, a little dilated, riveting his companion's where +he stood. + +"No, I am in earnest," said Dewey, with something in his manner that +was offensive. + +"Jest or earnest, your familiarity is out of place with me," +retorted Wallingford, with a sternness of manner, that quickened the +flow of bad blood in Dewey's heart. + +"Oh, you needn't take on airs!" replied the other with a sneer of +contempt. Then muttering to himself, yet loud enough to be +heard,--"I didn't suppose the puppy would growl at a familiar pat on +the head." + +This was too much for Wallingford. At another time, he might have +borne it with a manly self-possession. But only an hour before he +had met Miss Floyd in the street, and the look she then gave him had +stirred his heart, and left a tinge of shadowy regret on his +feelings. He was, therefore, in no mood to bear trifling, much less +insult. Scarcely had the offensive words passed Dewey's lips, when a +blow in the face staggered him back against the wall. Instantly +recovering himself, he sprang towards Wallingford in blind rage, and +struck at him with a savage energy; but the latter stepped aside, +and let his assailant come, with stunning force, against the wall at +the other side of the office, when he fell to the floor. + +At this instant, Judge Bigelow came in. + +"Henry! Ralph!" he exclaimed--" what is the meaning of this?" + +"Your nephew insulted me, and in the heat of anger I struck him in +the face. In attempting to return that blow, he missed his aim, and +fell against the wall, as you see." + +Wallingford spoke without excitement, but in a stern, resolute way. +By this time, Dewey was on his feet again. The sight of his uncle, +and the unflinching aspect of the person he had ventured to insult, +had the effect to cool off his excitement many degrees. + +"What is the meaning of this, young men?" sternly repeated Judge +Bigelow, looking from one to the other. + +"I have answered your question as far as I am concerned," replied +Henry. + +"Ralph! Speak! Did you offer him an insult?" + +To this demand, the nephew replied, with no abatement of his +originally offensive manner-- + +"If he chooses to consider my words as an insult, let him do so. I +shall in no case take them back." + +"What did you say?" + +There was an imperative force in the Judge's manner. + +Dewey was silent. + +"What did he say,"--Judge Bigelow turned to Wallingford, "that you +should answer it with a blow?" + +"If he is satisfied with the answer," replied the latter, "the case +can rest where it is. If not, I am ready to meet him on any appeal. +I He will find me no trifler." + +The Judge turned again to his nephew. + +"Ralph! I insist upon having this matter explained. I know Henry too +well to believe that he would strike you, unless there had been +strong provocation." + +"Perhaps he regarded it as such; I did not," said Dewey. + +"If he is satisfied with his chastisement, there is no occasion to +press him farther, Judge." Wallingford was provoked to this by the +young man's cool impertinence. + +Dewey made a movement as if about to rush upon Wallingford, but the +Judge interposed his body to keep them apart. The appearance of a +fourth party at this juncture, in the person of Squire Floyd, the +prospective father-in-law of one of the belligerents, changed +materially the aspect of affairs. + +"Good-morning, Squire," said Wallingford, with a quickly assumed +cheerfulness of manner, smiling in his usual grave way. + +Both the Judge and his nephew saw reason to imitate the example of +Wallingford, and thus throw up a blind before the eyes of Squire +Floyd, who thought he perceived something wrong as he came in, but +was afterwards inclined to doubt the evidence of his senses. + +Wallingford retired in a few moments. When he came back to the +office an hour afterwards, he found a note of apology on his table, +accompanied by a request that so unpleasant an incident as the one +which had just occurred, might be suffered to pass into oblivion. No +acknowledgment of this communication was made by the young lawyer. +He felt the strongest kind of repugnance towards Dewey, and could +not gain his own consent to have any intercourse with him. His +position, as an associate with Judge Bigelow, occasionally brought +him in contact with his nephew, who recognized him always in a +respectful manner. But Wallingford held him ever coldly at a +distance. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + + + +The marriage of Delia Floyd was an event in our quiet town. It was +celebrated at the house of her father, in the presence of a large +company, who were invited to witness the ceremony, and take part in +the attendant festivities. The match was regarded generally as a +most desirable one for the young lady; and there was more than one +mother present who envied the good fortune which had given such a +son-in-law to Mrs. Floyd. I heard many snatches of conversation, +half aside, in which marvelous things were related, or suggested, +touching the bridegroom's fortune and the splendid home he had +prepared for his bride. He was looked upon as a prospective +millionaire, and imagination pictured Delia as the jeweled mistress +of a palace home. Few seemed to think of any thing beyond the +promised worldly advantage. + +"I am glad that your daughter has married so well." + +"Let me congratulate you, Squire Floyd, on this splendid match." + +"It is not often, Mrs. Floyd, that a mother sees her daughter go +forth into the world with such brilliant prospects." + +"You have all that your heart can desire, so far as Delia is +concerned, Mrs. Floyd." + +"You are the envy of mothers." + +And so I heard the changes rung on all sides of me, and from the +lips of people who might have looked deeper if they had taken the +trouble to use their eyes. + +To me, the wedding was full of sad suggestions. It was one of those +social self-sacrifices, as common now as then, in which the victim +goes self-impelled to the altar, and lays upon its consuming fires +the richest dower of womanhood. + +I listened to the vows that were made on this occasion, and felt a +low thrill of repulsion as words of such solemn import trembled on +the air, for too well I knew that a union of souls in a true +marriage, such as Delia Floyd might consummate, was impossible here. +Could she be happy in this marriage? I gave to my own question an +emphatic "No!" She might have a gay, brilliant, exciting life; but +to that deep peace which is given to loving hearts, and which, in +hours of isolation and loneliness, she would desire with an +irrepressible longing, she must forever be a stranger. + +I looked into her beautiful young face as she stood receiving the +congratulations of friends, and felt as I had never felt before on +such an occasion. Instinctively my thought ran questioning along the +future. But no hopeful answer was returned. How was she to advance +in that inner-life development through which the true woman is +perfected? I pushed the question aside. It was too painful. Had she +been one of the great company of almost soulless women--if I may use +such strong language--who pass, yearly, through legal forms into the +mere semblance of a marriage, I might have looked on with +indifference, for then, the realization would, in all probability, +be equal to the promise. But Delia Floyd was of a different +spiritual organization. She had higher capabilities and nobler +aspirations; and if the one found no true sphere of development, +while the other was doomed to beat its wings vainly amid the lower +atmospheres of life, was happiness in the case even a possibility? + +Among the guests was Wallingford. It was six months, almost to a +day, since the dearest hope in life he had ever cherished went +suddenly out, and left him, for a season, in the darkness of +despair. I did not expect to see him on this occasion; and there was +another, I think, who as little anticipated his presence--I mean the +bride. But he had shared in the invitations, and came up to witness +the sacrifice. To see, what a few months before was to him the most +precious thing in life, pass into the full possession of another. +Had not the fine gold grown dim in his eyes? It had--dim with the +tarnish that better natures receive when they consent to dwell with +inferior spirits, and breathe in an atmosphere loaded with earthly +exhalations. It would have been the highest delight of his life to +have ascended with her into the pure regions, where thought builds +tabernacles and establishes its dwelling-places. To have walked +onward, side by side, in a dear life companionship, towards the goal +of eternal spiritual oneness. But she had willed it otherwise; and +now he had come, resolutely, to bear the pain of a final sundering +of all bonds, that his soul might free itself from her soul +completely and forever. + +I first noticed him as the bridal party entered the room, and took +their places in front of the clergyman who was to officiate on the +occasion. He occupied a position that gave him a clear view of +Delia's face, while he was removed from general observation. Almost +from the commencement to the ending of the ceremony his gaze rested +on her countenance. His head was thrown a little forward, his brows +slightly contracted, his lips firmly set, and his eyes fixed as if +the object upon which he was gazing held him by an irresistible +fascination. I was so much interested in him that I scarcely looked +at the bride during the ceremony. At last, the minister, in +conclusion, announced the twain to be husband and wife. I saw +Wallingford give a slight start as if a tensely strung chord of +feeling had been jarred. A moment more and the spell was broken! +Every lineament of his countenance showed this. The stern aspect +gave way--light trembled over the softening features--the body stood +more erect as if a great pressure had been removed. + +I noticed that he did not hold back in the excitement of +congratulation that followed the ceremony. I was near him when he +took the hand of Delia, and heard him say--not--"I congratulate +you"--but "May your life be a happy one." The tone was earnest and +feeling, such as a brother might use to a beloved sister. I held +that tone long afterwards in my memory, studying its signification. +It had in it nothing of regret, or pain, or sadness, as if he were +losing something, but simply expressed the regard and tender +interest of a sincere well wisher. And so that great trial was at an +end for him. He had struggled manfully with a great enemy to his +peace, and this was his hour of triumph. + +With the bride's state of mind, as read in external signs, I was far +from being satisfied. Marriage, in any case, to one who thinks and +feels, is a thing of serious import; and even the habitually +thoughtless can hardly take its solemn vows upon their lips without +falling into a sober mood. We are, therefore, not surprised to see +emotion put on signs of pain--like April showers that weep away into +sunshine. But in Delia's face I saw something that went deeper than +all this. + +"There is no one here," said I, taking her hand, and holding it +tightly in mine, "who wishes you well in the future more sincerely +than I do." + +"I know it, Doctor," she answered, returning the warm grasp I gave +her. Her eyes rested steadily in mine, and saw a shadow in them. + +"We are sorry to lose you from S----. Indeed we cannot afford to +lose you." + +"She is wanted," spoke up her young husband a little proudly, "to +grace a wider and more brilliant sphere of life." + +"It is not the brilliant sphere that is always the happiest," said +I. "Life's truest pleasures come oftener to quiet home circles even +among the lowly, than to gilded palaces where fortune's favorites +reside." + +"It is not to external condition," the bride remarked, "that we are +to look for happiness." I thought her voice had in it a pensive +tone, as if she were not wholly satisfied with the brilliant promise +that lay before her. "You know, Doctor, we have talked that over +more than once in our lives." + +"Yes, Delia; and it is a truth which we ought never to forget--one +that I trust you and your husband will lay up in your hearts." + +I turned to the young man desiring my admonition to reach him also. + +"Perhaps I might differ something from this sage conclusion," he +answered a little flippantly. "As far as I can see, the external +condition has a great deal to do with our happiness. I am very sure, +that if I were situated as some people are whom I know, I would be +miserable. So you see, Doctor, I have my doubts touching this theory +of yours and Delia's." + +"Time, I think, will demonstrate its truth," I said, in a graver +tone, and turned from them to give place to those who could talk in +a lighter strain than was possible for me on the occasion. + +During the evening I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation +with the bride; but only when she happened to be a little separated +from her husband, towards whom his manner was coldly polite. The two +young men, after the scene in Judge Bigelow's office, only kept up, +for the sake of others, the shadow of acquaintanceship. Between them +there was a strong mutual repulsion which neither sought to +overcome. + +As I remarked I saw Wallingford more than once in conversation with +the bride. But nothing in his + +manner indicated any sentiment beyond that of friendship. He was +polite, cheerful, and at his ease. But it was different with her. +She was not at her ease in his company, and yet, I could see that +his attention was grateful--even pleasant. + +The augury was not good. As I read the signs, Delia Floyd, when she +passed from maidenhood to wifehood, departed from the path that led +to happiness in this world. And I said to myself as I pondered her +future--"May the disappointments and sorrows that are almost sure to +come, turn her feet aside into the right way at last!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + + + +On the day following, the young husband bore his bride away to grace +the prouder home that awaited her in New York; and affairs in our +town settled themselves down into the old routine. + +During the few months that have passed since the opening of our +story, the only matter that has occurred, of any interest to the +reader, at the Allen House, is the fact that Judge Bigelow has +undertaken the management of Mrs. Montgomery's affairs, and the +establishment of her claim to the possession, as only heir, of the +whole of Captain Allen's property. Some legal difficulties, bearing +upon her identification as his sister, were in the way; and in the +effort to remove these, there had been considerable correspondence +with persons in England. + +The first fact to be clearly proved was the solemnization of a +marriage between Mrs. Montgomery's mother and the elder Captain +Allen. Next, the identity of Mrs. Montgomery as her child. No +marriage certificate, nor any record of the fact, as to the exact +time and place, were known to be in existence; and without them, or +evidence of a very conclusive character, the title of Mrs. +Montgomery could not be clearly established. + +This, Judge Bigelow stated to her in the beginning; but, up to this +time, no such evidence had been found. + +Mrs. Montgomery's health was not good, and as she required +occasional medical aid, my visits to the Allen House were continued. +The more intimately I came to know this lady, the higher did she +rise in my esteem. She united strength of mind with clearness of +perception: and decision of character with prudence and justice. She +had, likewise, a depth and tenderness of feeling that often +exhibited itself in beautiful incidents. The dignity of manner, +which at first seemed touched with hauteur, now only gave grace to +her fine proportions. + +She had, from the beginning, spoken to me without reserve of her +affairs, in which I naturally took deep interest. One day she +said:-- + +"Doctor, I wish to get your opinion in regard to an individual whom +Judge Bigelow proposes to send out to England for me on important +business. He is a young man, associated with him, as I understand +it, professionally. + +"Mr. Wallingford, you mean?" + +"Yes, that is the name, I believe. Do you know him?" + +"Very well." + +"Is he prudent, intelligent, and reliable?" + +"I think so." + +"You only think so, Doctor?" + +"I can speak in stronger terms. As far as one can know another, I am +ready to say that _he is_ prudent, intelligent, and reliable. If I +had important business to transact at a distant point, and needed a +trusty agent, I would select him before any other man in S----." + +I wish no better testimony, Doctor, and am glad to know that I can +procure an agent so well qualified." + +"Have you seen him?" I inquired. + +"No. But Judge Bigelow is to bring him here today, in order that I +may see and converse with him." + +"You will find him," said I, a young man of few words and +unobtrusive manners--but solid as a rock. I have seen him under +circumstances calculated to test the character of any man." + +"What are the circumstances, if you are free to speak of them?" +asked Mrs. Montgomery. "We get always a truer estimate of a man, +when we see him in some great battle of life; for then, his real +qualities and resources become apparent." + +I thought for a little while before answering. It did not seem just +right to draw aside the veil that strangers' eyes might look upon a +life-passage such as was written in Wallingford's Book of Memory. +The brief but fierce struggle was over with him; and he was moving +steadily onward, sadder, no doubt, for the experience, and wiser, no +doubt. But the secret was his own, and I felt that no one ought to +meddle therewith. Still, a relation of the fact, showing how deeply +the man could feel, and how strong he was in self-mastery, could not +but raise him in the estimation of Mrs. Montgomery, and increase her +confidence. + +"It is hardly fair," said I, "to bring up the circumstances of a +man's life over which he has drawn a veil; and which are sacred to +himself alone. In this case, however, with the end of enabling you +more fully to know the person you think of sending abroad on an +important service, I will relate an occurrence that cannot fail to +awaken in your mind an interest for the young man, such as we always +feel for those who have passed through deep suffering." + +Blanche was sitting by her mother. Indeed, the two were almost +inseparable companions. It was a rare thing to find them apart. I +saw her face kindle with an earnest curiosity. + +"Judge Bigelow's nephew was married, recently," I said. + +"So the Judge informed me. He spoke very warmly of his nephew, who +is a merchant in New York, I think he said." + +"He is a partner in a mercantile firm there. The bride was Squire +Floyd's daughter; a very superior girl--lovely in character, +attractive in person, and, mentally, well cultivated. I have always +regarded her as the flower of our town." + +"The young man had good taste, it seems," Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +"Better than the young lady showed in taking him for a husband," +said I. + +"Ah? Then your opinion of him is not so favorable." + +"He was not worthy of her, if I possess any skill in reading +character. But there was one worthy of her, and deeply attached to +her at the same time." + +"This young Wallingford, of whom we were speaking?" + +"The same." + +"But she didn't fancy him?" + +"She did fancy him. But--" + +"Was not able to resist the attractions of a New York merchant, when +put in opposition to those of a humble country lawyer?" + +"The truth lies about there. She took the showy effigy of a man, in +place of the real man." + +"A sad mistake. But it is made every day," said Mrs. Montgomery, +"and will continue to be made. Alas for the blindness and folly that +lead so many into paths that terminate in barren deserts, or +wildernesses where the soul is lost! And so our young friend has +been crossed in love." + +"The experience is deeper than usual," said I. Then I related, with +some particularity, the facts in the case, already known to the +reader. Both the mother and daughter listened with deep attention. +After I had finished my story, Mrs. Montgomery said, + +"He possesses will and strength of character, that is plain; but I +can't say that I just like the deliberate process of _un_loving, if +I may use the word, which you have described. There is something too +cold-blooded about it for me. Like the oak, bent under the pressure +of a fierce storm, he comes up erect too soon." + +I smiled at her view of the case, and answered, + +"You look upon it as a woman, I as a man. To me, there is a certain +moral grandeur in the way he has disenthralled himself from fetters +that could not remain, without a life-long disability." + +"Oh, no doubt it was the wisest course," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"And may we not look among the wisest men, for the best and most +reliable?" I queried. + +"Among those who are truly wise," she said, her voice giving +emphasis to the word _truly_. + +"What is it to be truly wise?" + +"All true wisdom," she answered, "as it appertains to the affairs of +this life, has its foundation in a just regard for others; for, in +the degree that we are just to others, are we just to ourselves." + +"And is not the converse of your proposition true also? In the +degree that we are just to ourselves, are we not just to others?" + +"Undoubtedly. Each individual bears to common society, the same +relation that a member, organ, or fibre, does to the human body, of +which it makes a part. And as no member, organ, or fibre of the +body, can injure itself without injuring the whole man; so no +individual can do wrong to himself, without a consequent wrong to +others. Each has duties to perform for the good of common society, +and any self-inflicted or self-permitted disabilities that hinder +the right performance of these duties, involve a moral wrong." + +"Then the case is very clear for my friend Wallingford," said I. "He +is a wise man in your sense of the word--wise, in resolutely putting +away from his mind the image of one who, if she had been worthy of +him, would have taken her place proudly by his side; but, proving +herself unworthy, could never afterward be to him more than a friend +or stringer. He could not hold her image in his heart, and fondly +regard it, without sin; for was she not to be the bride of another? +Nor without suffering loss of mental power, and life-purpose, and +thus injuring others trough neglect of duty. It was acting wisely, +then, for him to come up, manfully, to the work of drawing back his +misplaced affections, and getting them again fully into his own +possession. And he has done the work, if I read the signs aright. +All honor to his manhood!" + +"He has, I see, a warm advocate in you, Doctor," said Mrs. +Montgomery, again smiling. "Still, in an affair of the heart, where +so much was involved, as seemed to be in his case, we can hardly +fancy such a matter-of-fact, business-like proceeding as you have +described. He might well have been forgiven, if he had shown more +weakness of character, and acted even a little unreasonably. I will +yield to no one in my regard for manly firmness and self-control, +for bravery and endurance; and I have seen these qualities put to +some of the severest tests. But in matters of the heart, I must own +that I like to see a man show his weakness. Your Mr. Wallingford is +too cool and calculating for me. But this is irrelevant to our +consideration of his qualities as a business agent. For this +purpose, I am satisfied that he is fitted in all things essential." + +"And that is quite as far as we need go," said I. + +"The business in hand," said Mrs. Montgomery, resuming the +conversation after a pause, "is of great importance to me, and may +require not only a visit to England, but also to the West Indies. +Unless evidence of my mother's marriage can be found, there will be, +as you know, considerable difficulty in establishing my full right +to inherit my brother's property. And my identity as the sister of +the late Captain Allen must also be proved. By the will of my +father, which is on record, he left all of his property to my +brother. He, as far as is known, died intestate. As next of kin, I +am the legal heir; but the proof is yet wanting. My mother's cousin, +a Colonel Willoughby, of whom we have before spoken, came over from +England, on the strength of some vague rumors that reached the +family from Jamaica, and was successful in discovering the only +survivor of his uncle's family. She saw it best to abandon her +husband, as you know. My purpose in sending an agent, versed in +legal matters, and used to weighing evidence, is to have such papers +of Colonel Willoughby's as the family possess and will submit for +examination, carefully searched, in the hope that some record may be +found in his hand-writing, sufficiently clear to establish the fact +that my mother was the wife of the elder Captain Allen. So important +an event as that of searching out my mother, and inducing her to +flee from her husband, could hardly have taken place, it seems to +me, without evidence of the fact being preserved. And my hope is, +that this evidence, if it can be found, will prove of great value. +So you see, Doctor, that I have good reasons for wishing to know +well the agent who goes abroad with a matter so vital as this in his +hands." + +I admitted the importance of a thoroughly reliable man to go upon +this mission, and repeated my faith in Wallingford. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + + + +I saw Mrs. Montgomery a few days afterwards, and inquired if she had +seen the young associate of Judge Bigelow. She replied in the +affirmative. + +"How does he impress you?" I asked. + +"Favorably, upon the whole; though," she added with one of her +meaning smiles, "I can't help thinking all the time about the cool, +calculating, resolute way in which he went about disentangling +himself from an unfortunate love affair. I look at his calm face, +over which you rarely see a ripple of feeling go, and ask myself, +sometimes, if a heart really beats within his bosom." + +"There does; a true, large, manly heart, full of deep feeling; you +may be sure of this, madam," I answered, with some warmth. + +"I will not gainsay your words, Doctor. I trust for his sake that it +may be so." + +"Leaving out the heart matter, and regarding him only as to his +fitness for the work in hand, you are favorably impressed?" + +"Quite so. I find him quick of apprehension, intelligent, and of +sufficient gravity of deportment to ensure a respectful attention +wherever he may go. He made one suggestion that ought to have +occurred to me, and upon which I am acting. As no will has been +found, it has been assumed that Captain Allen died intestate. Mr. +Wallingford suggests that a will may have been executed; and that a +thorough search be made in order to discover if one exists. In +consequence of this suggestion, Blanche and I have been hard at work +for two days, prying into drawers, examining old papers, and looking +into all conceivable, and I had almost said inconceivable places." + +"And if you were to find a will?" said I, looking into her earnest +face. + +"The question would be that much nearer to a solution." + +"Is it at all probable that it would be in your favor?" + +I saw her start at the query, while her brows closed slightly, as if +from a sudden pain. She looked at me steadily for a few moments, +without speaking; then, after a long inspiration, she said: + +"Whether in my favor or not, any disposition that he has made of his +property, in law and right, must, of course, stand good." + +"You might contest such a will, if not in your favor." + +She shook her head, compressed her lips firmly, and said: + +"No. I should not contest the will. My belief was, when I came here, +that he died without making a bequest of any kind, and that his +property would go, in consequence, to the heir-at-law. This was the +information that I received. If it should prove otherwise, I shall +make no opposition." + +"Do you intend, under this view, continuing the search for a will?" + +Something in the tone of voice touched her unpleasantly. I saw the +light in her eyes glow intenser, and her lips arch. + +"Why not?" she asked, looking at me steadily. I could have given +another meaning to my question from the one I intended to convey, +had it so pleased me, and thus avoided a probable offence. But I +wished to see a little deeper into the quality of her mind, and so +used the probe that was in my hand. + +"If you find a will, devising the property out of your line, all +your present prospects are at an end," said I. + +"I know it." + +Her voice was firm as well as emphatic. + +"Then why not take the other horn of this dilemma? Give up searching +for a will that can hardly be in your favor, and go on to prove your +title through consanguinity." + +"And thus shut my eyes to the probable rights of others, in order to +secure a personal advantage? Do you think I would do this, Doctor? +If so, you have mistaken me." + +There was a tone of regret in her voice. + +"Pardon me," I replied. "The suggestion was natural under the +circumstances, and I gave it utterance." + +"Were you in my place, would you give up the search here?" + +She fixed on me a penetrating look. + +The probe had changed hands. + +"It is difficult," I answered, "for us to say what we would do if we +were to change places with another. In my experience, it is easy to +see what is right for our neighbor, but very difficult to see the +right way for ourselves, when under the allurement of some personal +advantage." + +"Would it be right in me to give up the search?" + +"I think not." + +My answer was without hesitation. + +"And I will not," she said, firmly. "If my brother has devised his +property, I have only to know the terms of his will. If it is +against me, well. I shall not oppose its operation." + +"It sometimes happens," I suggested, "that a testator is manifestly +out of his right mind as to the direction given to his property, and +bequeaths it in a manner so evidently unwise and improper, that both +justice and humanity are served in the act of setting aside the +will. And it might prove so in this case." + +"I know not how that may be, "Mrs. Montgomery answered, soberly, yet +firmly. "But this I do know"--she spoke resolutely--"God helping me, +I will not stain my hands with gold that, in any legal right, +belongs to another. What is clearly mine, I will take and use. as it +is my right and duty. But I must be certain that it is mine. If +there is no will, I am clear as to who is the owner of this estate; +if there is a will, and I and mine are not included in its +provisions, I will step aside. First, however, the obligation to +search for a will is imperative; and I shall continue it until +clearly satisfied that no such document exists." + +What a womanly dignity there was in Mrs. Montgomery as she said +this, drawing her tall form up to its full height in speaking--not +proudly, but with conscious integrity! + +"What is right is always best." I made the remark as well +approvingly as in expression of an immutable truth. + +"Always, always," she replied, with earnestness. "There is no +blinder folly than that of grasping a present worldly good, at the +expense of violated justice. Whoever does so, comes out that far +wrong in the end. There is only one way that leads to peace of mind: +the way of honor and right. All other ways, no matter into what rich +harvest fields they may lead in the beginning, terminate in +wretchedness. There never has been, and never will be, any exception +to this rule. We see its operation daily, turn our eyes whatsoever +way we choose. And God forbid that I should deliberately enter the +way that leads to ultimate unhappiness! Self-denial in the present +is better than gnawing regret in the future. The good things of this +world prove to be curses instead of blessings, unless the mind be +rightly adjusted for their enjoyment. And such a right adjustment is +impossible where the very fact of their possession involves a moral +wrong. I see this so clearly, Doctor, that I shudder inwardly at the +bare imagination of committing such a wrong." + +"It is by trial that God proves us," said I, "and may He bring you +out of this one, should the trial come, as gold from the refiner's +furnace!" + +"Amen!" was her solemnly uttered response; "if it should come, may I +be found strong enough to do the right!" + +For over a week this search for a will was continued, until it was +clear to all concerned that no such document was in existence. Then +preparation was made for the visit to England, in search of evidence +bearing upon the identity of Mrs. Montgomery as the sister of +Captain Allen. Two or three months elapsed, however, before Mr. +Wallingford could so arrange his business as to be absent for the +length of time it might take to complete his mission. He sailed for +England in June, between three and four months after the marriage of +Delia Floyd. He called to see me on the day before leaving, and I +had a brief but pleasant talk with him. He was in good health and +good spirits, and anticipated a successful visit. + +"I shall gain," he remarked, "in two ways by this trip. +Professionally and intellectually. I have had many a dream of that +land of our forefathers--England--now to be realized. I shall see +London, walk its streets, and linger amid its historic places. Don't +smile at this almost boyish enthusiasm, Doctor. London has always +been the Mecca of my desires." + +I had never seen him so animated. A higher life seemed flowing in +his veins. His countenance had a brighter aspect than usual, and his +head an erecter carriage. There was a depth of meaning in his eyes +never observed before--a look as if some new born hope were lending +its inspiration to his soul. Altogether manlier was his aspect and +bearing than I had ever seen it. + +"God speed your mission," said I, as I shook hands with him in +parting. + +"If it depends on human agency, directed with earnestness, patience, +and will, my mission will have a prosperous result," he replied. "It +is to be my first entirely self-reliant experience, and I think the +discipline of mind it will involve must strengthen me for higher +professional work than any in which I have yet been engaged. You are +aware, Doctor, that my heart is in my profession." + +"So I have seen from the beginning." + +"I will not deny," he added, "that I have ambition. That I wish to +be distinguished at the bar." + +"An honorable ambition," said I. + +"Nor that, sometimes--in moments of weakness, perhaps--my dreams +have gone higher. But I am a very young man, and youth is ardent and +imaginative," he added. + +"And you have this great advantage," I replied, "that, with every +year added to your life, you may, if you will, grow wiser and +stronger. You stand, as all young minds, at the bottom of a ladder. +The height to which you climb will depend upon your strength and +endurance." + +"If we both live long enough, Doctor, you may see me on the topmost +rundle, for I shall climb with unwearying effort." + +He spoke with a fine enthusiasm, that lent a manly beauty to his +face. + +"Climb on," I answered, "and you will rise high above the great +mass, who are aimless and indolent. But you will have competitors, +few, but vigorous and tireless. In the contest for position that you +must wage with these, all your powers will be taxed; and if you +reach the topmost rundle to which you aspire, success will be, +indeed, a proud achievement." + +"I have the will, the ambition, the courage, and the endurance, +Doctor," was his reply. "So, if I fail, the fault will lie here," +and he touched, significantly, his forehead. + +"For lack of brains?" said I, smiling. + +"Yes. The defect will lie there," he answered, smiling in return. + +"Brains are remarkable for latent capacity. If stimulated, they +develop new powers, and this almost without limit. All they want is +to be well supplied with the right kind of food, and well worked at +the same time." + +"I believe that, Doctor, and find vast encouragement in the +thought," and Wallingford laughed pleasantly. + +Our parting words were growing voluminous. So we shook hands again, +repeated our mutual good wishes, and separated. In the afternoon he +started for Boston, from whence he sailed, on the next day, for +England. + +This was towards the latter end of June. He was to write to Mrs. +Montgomery immediately on his arrival out, and again as soon as he +had obtained an interview with the Willoughby family. Early in +August, she received his first letter, which was brief, simply +announcing his arrival at Liverpool. + +About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note +from Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed +something in her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not +smile, as was her wont, when we met, her countenance retaining its +usual serious expression. I thought she looked paler, and just a +little troubled. + +"Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor," she said. "I am afraid +you will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly +interest in me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a +sound adviser." + +I bowed, and she continued: + +"I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, +been well received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, for +examination, a large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel +Willoughby." + +"If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be +sure to find it," said I. + +"No doubt of that. But"--I thought her voice faltered a little--" +the question is solved, and he may return." + +"Solved! How?" I asked quickly. + +"I have found the will." + +"What?" + +"I have found the will," she repeated, in a steady tone, "and that +solves the question." + +"Is it in your favor?" I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. +It came in a firmly uttered-- + +"No." + +We looked steadily into each other's face for several moments. + +"In whose favor?" + +"In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife," she replied. + +"But she is dead," I answered quickly. + +"True--but I am not his heir." + +She said this resolutely. + +"She died childless," said I, "and will not the descent stop with +her?--the property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain +Allen?" + +"She may have relatives--a brother or sister," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"That is scarcely probable," I objected. + +"It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means +ought to, and must be, taken." + +"Where did you find the will?" I inquired. + +"Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she +accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She +pressed harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back +several inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to +its place. She then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As +soon as it had passed a certain point, a secret drawer, set in +vertically, sprung up, and from the side, which fell open, the will +dropped out." + +"It is singular," said I, "that it should come to light just at this +time." + +"It is Providential, no doubt," Mrs. Montgomery remarked. + +"What course will you pursue?" I inquired. + +"My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford." + +"I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that," said I. + +"On what ground?" + +"This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no +more. If the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you +stood before, and will require the evidence as to identity for which +Mr. Wallingford is now in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must +not be recalled." + +The lady mused for a little while, and then said-- + +"Perhaps you are right, Doctor." + +"I am sure of it," I replied, speaking earnestly. "This will, if we +find it, on examination, to be an instrument executed according to +legal forms, puts your rights in jeopardy, though by no means sets +them aside." + +"You take the correct view, no doubt," was her reply to this. Her +voice was not so firm as in the beginning. As the probabilities +began to show themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of +self-possession. + +"Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work," said I, "and find, if +possible, the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the +legal heir, as I trust you will. And until his return, the existence +of this important document had better remain a secret." + +"Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?" + +I reflected for some moments, and then replied-- + +"Yes. He is your legal adviser, and one in whom the highest +confidence may be reposed. The will should be at once placed in his +hands for examination." + +"And go upon record?" + +"Better leave all to his superior legal judgment. But," as the +thought occurred to me, "who are named as the executors of this +will?" + +"I did not examine as to that, being too much interested in the +provisions of the writing," she replied. + +"May I see the document?" + +"Blanche, dear, you will find it in the right-hand drawer of the +secretary, in our room;" and Mrs. Montgomery handed a key to her +daughter, who left the apartment in which we were sitting. She came +back in a few minutes, and handed me a paper, which, on examination, +I found to be written throughout, and evidently by the hand of +Captain Allen. It was dated San Juan de Porto Rico, January 10, +1820, and was witnessed by two signatures--the names Spanish. The +executors were Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd. There was an +important sentence at the conclusion of the will. It was in these +words:--"In case my wife, in dying, should leave no relatives, then +every thing shall revert to my own right heirs, should any be +living." + +All this gave the affair, in my mind, a more serious aspect. Before +mentioning the executors' names, I said-- + +"Do you know where Theresa Garcia resided, before her marriage with +Captain Allen?" + +"In Porto Rico, as I have learned from old 'Aunty,' and also from +letters found in searching for the will." + +"Which I find was executed at San Juan De Porto Rico, the principal +town on the island. Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd are the +executors." + +I saw her start slightly, and grow a little pale as I said this. + +"Judge Bigelow, and Squire Floyd! That is extraordinary!" She was +more disturbed than I had yet seen her in reference to this matter. + +"It is remarkable, certainly, that Judge Bigelow, your legal +adviser, should be one of the executors of a will, which determines +your brother's estate out of the line of consanguinity." + +"He must, of course, cease to represent my interest in the case," +remarked the lady. + +"He cannot represent two diverse interests," said I. + +"No; that is clear." She said this in a troubled way; and was, +evidently, falling into a perplexed state of mind. "Well, Doctor, +what is to be done?" She spoke with recovered self-possession, after +a short period of silence, looking at me with her old calmness of +expression. + +I took some moments for reflection, and then said, + +"My advice is, to keep your own counsel, and wait until Mr. +Wallingford returns from England. Whenever you place this document +in the hands of Judge Bigelow, he must go over to the adverse +interest; when you will be compelled to seek another legal adviser. +You are not just ready for this; nor will be until after your agent +comes back with the result of his investigations. No wrong to any +one can possibly occur from letting things remain just as they are +for a few months." + +"I think your view of the matter correct, Doctor," was her reply. +"And yet, to keep this secret, even for an hour, when I have no +right to its possession, touches my conscience. Is it just? This +will is not in my favor. It does not even recognize my existence. It +devises property, of large value, in another line; and there may be +heirs ready to take possession, the moment its existence is made +known to them. Am I not intermeddling, unjustly, in the affairs of +another?" + +"But for you," I replied, "this will might never have seen the +light. If heirs exist, they can, therefore, have no just reason for +complaint at the brief delay to which, under the circumstances, you +are, in common justice, entitled. Your conscience may be over +sensitive, Mrs. Montgomery." + +"I would rather it were over sensitive than obtuse," she said. +"Worldly possessions are desirable. They give us many advantages. We +all desire and cling to them. But they are dearly bought at the +price of heavenly possessions. What will it profit a man if he gain +the whole world and lose his own soul? Nothing! It were better for +him to die like Lazarus. No, Doctor, I am resolved in this matter to +be simply just. If, in justice and right, this estate comes into my +hands, I will take the wealth thankfully and use it as wisely as I +can. But I will not throw a single straw in the way of its passing +to the legal heirs of my brother's wife, if any are in existence and +can be found." + +"But you will keep this secret until Mr. Wallingford's return?" I +urged. + +"I do not see that wrong to any one can follow such a delay," she +answered. "Yes, I will keep the secret." + +"And I will keep it also, even from my good Constance," said I, +"until your agent's return. The matter lies sacred between us." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + + + +"Mrs. Dewey is at her father's," said my wife to me, one evening in +August, as we sat at the tea-table. + +"Ah! have you seen her?" I was interested at once. Six months had +elapsed since Delia's wedding, and this was her first visit home; +though her mother had been twice down to New York, in company with +the Squire, who had business with the firm to which Ralph belonged. +In fact, since his marriage to Squire Floyd's daughter, young Dewey +had prevailed upon his father-in-law to make the house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee & Co., agents for the entire product of his +manufactory--an arrangement which the Squire regarded as greatly to +his advantage. + +My question was answered in the affirmative. + +"How is she?" + +"Looking very well." + +There was no warmth or feeling in my wife's voice or manner, +although Delia had been a favorite with her, and we had often talked +about the pleasure we should have in meeting her again. + +"Have you nothing more to say of our young friend?" I asked. + +"She is very much changed." + +"For the better?" + +"Some might think so. I do not." There was a disappointed manner +about my wife. + +"In what respect is she changed?" + +"Some would say that she had grown handsome; and, in truth, her +countenance strikes you, at first, as much improved. It is rounded +to a fuller outline, and has a style about it, caught, I suppose, +from city life and feeling. But she carries her head with a +statelier air than is becoming Squire Floyd's daughter; and I am +very sure, that, as the wife of Ralph Dewey, she has acquired no +special consequence. Rich jewelry may be very well in city +drawing-rooms, and public assemblages, where dress is made +conspicuous. But to sport diamond ear-rings and breastpin, splendid +enough for a countess, in her father's little parlor, and before the +eyes of friends who loved her once for herself alone, savored so +strongly of weak pride and vanity, that I could not look upon her +with any of my old feelings. It was Delia Floyd no longer. Already, +the pure, sweet, artless maiden, had changed into a woman of the +world, dressed up for show. Ah, my husband! if this is the effect of +city life, let me never breathe its tainted atmosphere." + +And she dropped her eyes, with a sigh, and sat, lost in thought, for +several moments. + +"Your account of Delia pains me," said I. "Is the case indeed so +bad?" + +"It is. Alas! the fine gold is dimmed. Our sweet young friend has +strayed from the paths of nature, and will never, I fear, get back +again." + +"Had you any conversation with her?" I inquired. + +"Yes: or, rather I listened to her, as she ran on about her city +life; the grand people with whom, she had already become acquainted; +and the splendor of balls, parties, soirees, and operas. I grew +sober as she talked: for not one true womanly sentiment fell from +her lips. She did not express interest in any of her new friends and +acquaintances for the good qualities they possessed; but spoke of +their wealth, style of living, social connections, and other +attractions wholly external to the individual. She was even eloquent +over star actresses and opera singers; one or two of whom she spoke +of having met at the house of a fashionable friend." + +"How true the old adage, that evil communications corrupt good +manners!" said I. + +"There must be some radical weakness in a case of such sudden +deterioration as this," replied my wife. "Some latent vanity and +love of the world. I cannot believe that one sensible young woman in +ten would be spoiled to the degree that Delia is spoiled, if you +passed her through like temptations." + +I saw Delia myself, on the next day. She was dressed in New York, +not in S----, style; and so, naturally, appeared to disadvantage in +my eyes. I found her very bright and animated; and to my questions +as to her new city life, she spoke warmly of its attractions. At +times, in the intervals of exciting talk, her countenance would fall +into its true expression, as nearly all countenances will when +thought ceases to be active--that expression, in which you see, as +in a mirror, the actual state of mind. It revealed far more than +came into her consciousness at the time, else would she have covered +it with one of the rippling smiles she had already learned to throw, +like a spangled veil, over her face. + +Mrs. Dewey spent nearly a month in S----and then went back with her +husband to New York. I saw them several times together during this +period. He had grown more pompous in manner, and talked in a larger +way. Our little town was simply contemptible in his eyes, and he was +at no pains to conceal his opinion. New York was everything; and a +New York merchant of passable standing, able to put two or three +towns like S----in his breeches pocket. + +The only interest I felt in this conceited young man was as the +husband of my young friend; and as touching their relation to each +other, I observed both of them very closely. It did not take me long +to discover that there was no true bond of love between them. The +little fond attentions that we look for in a husband of only six +months' standing; and the tender reciprocations which are sure to +follow, were all wanting here. Constance spoke of this, and I +answered, lightly, to cover the regret the fact occasioned-- + +"It is not fashionable in good society, you know, for husband and +wife to show any interest in each other." + +She laid her hand suddenly upon my arm, and looked lovingly into my +face. + +"May we never make a part of good society, then!" + +I kissed her pure lips, and answered, + +"There is no present prospect of it, my Constance. I am not +ambitious of social distinction. Still, our trial in this direction +may come, for you know that I am not without ambition +professionally. A chair in one of the medical schools might tempt me +to an Atlantic city." + +Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm. Then +looking from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on +the floor, while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the +cradle, she said:-- + +"I shall not need the glitter of diamonds--these are my jewels." + +Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at +sight of a husband's kiss. Could I do less than breathe my tender +love upon her lips again? + +"And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen," said +I. "As a mother, woman attains her highest glory." + +"As wife and mother," Constance answered quickly. And now she leaned +against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her. + +"And all this," she said, "a good society woman must give up; and +for what? God help them in the time of life's bitter trials and +painful experience, which all must endure in some degree!" She spoke +with strong feeling. "On what arm can a woman lean, who has no +husband in the true sense? Is she strong enough, standing alone, for +life's great battles? What has she to sustain her, when all the +external support, received from pride, is swept away? Alas! Alas! Is +there a blinder folly than the pageantry of fashionable society? It +is the stage on a grander scale, glittering, gorgeous, fascinating +to the senses--but all a mere show, back from which the actors +retire, each with an individual consciousness, and the sad words +pressing to tremulous lips--'The heart knoweth its own bitterness.'" + +Like ourselves, most of Delia's best friends were disappointed, and +when she returned to New York, no hearts followed her with tender +interest, except those of her own family. She had carried herself +with an air of too much self-consequence; or, if she came down to +the level of old friends and companions, it was with too evident a +feeling of condescension. + +I happened to fall into the company of Squire Floyd and Judge +Bigelow, not very long after the return of Delia and her husband to +New York. The conversation turned upon business, and I learned that +the Squire had thought of enlarging his mill, and introducing +steam--the water power being only sufficient for its present +productive capacity. Judge Bigelow was very much interested, I +found, in the particular branch of manufacture in which his neighbor +was engaged, and inclined to embark some capital with him in the +proposed extension of the works. They frequently quoted the Judge's +nephew, Mr. Ralph Dewey, as to the extent to which goods could be +put into market by the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., who +possessed, it was conceded, almost unlimited facilities. + +I listened to their conversation, which involved plans of +enlargement, statistics of trade, home and foreign production, +capital, and the like, until I began to feel that I was moving in a +narrow sphere, and destined, in comparison with them, to occupy a +very small space on the world. And I will confess it, a shade of +dissatisfaction crept over my heart. + +A few months later I learned that my two neighbors were jointly +interested in the mill, and that early in the ensuing spring +steam-power would be introduced, and the capacity of the works +increased to more than double their present range. + +It was December when Wallingford returned from England. He brought +back with him all the evidence required to prove the identity of +Mrs. Montgomery. Up to this time only three persons knew of the +existence of a will--Mrs. Montgomery, Blanche, and myself; and we +formed a council on the question of what was now to be done. I gave +it as my opinion, that, as Judge Bigelow was one of the executors, +and must in consequence cease to act for Mrs. Montgomery, that we +had better call in Mr. Wallingford, and get his view of the case +before placing the will in Judge Bigelow's hands. The mother and +daughter agreed with me. So a time of meeting was appointed, and a +note sent to the young lawyer desiring his presence at the house of +Mrs. Montgomery. He seemed very much gratified at the successful +result of his visit to England, and referred to it with something of +pardonable pride in his manner. + +"We have every reason," said Mrs. Montgomery, in response to this, +"to be satisfied with the manner in which you have executed an +important mission. Since you left America, however, a document has +come into my hands, which, had it reached me earlier, would have +saved you a long and tedious search among mouldy and moth-eaten +papers. It was nothing less than Captain Allen's will." + +And she gave him the paper. He looked surprised, and for a moment or +two bewildered. Then opening the will, he read it through rapidly. I +saw the color leave his face as he progressed, and his hand move +nervously. It was plain that his mind took in, at a grasp, the +entire series of consequences which the appearance of this document +involved. + +"This is a serious matter," he said, looking up at Mrs. Montgomery. + +"It is," she answered, calmly. "The will appears to be in legal +form." + +"Yes." + +"And must go into the hands of those who are named as executors." + +"And be by them entered in the office of probate," added +Wallingford. + +"I would have placed it in their hands immediately on its discovery, +but have, acting under advice from my kind friend here, waited until +your return from England. No interest has suffered, I presume, by +this delay?" + +"None." + +Wallingford bent his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time as if +half-confounded by the discovery. + +"What step will the executors probably take?" I inquired. + +"It will be their duty to assume possession of the estate, and hold +it for the heirs of Mrs. Allen, if any are in existence," he +replied. + +"And it will be their duty to take all proper means for discovering +these heirs?" said I. + +"Yes. That follows, of course." + +"And if none are found within a reasonable time?" I asked. + +"The phrase, a reasonable time, is very indeterminate," said +Wallingford. "It may include one, or ten years, according to the +facts in the case, the views of the executors and the courts." + +"But, finally?" + +"Finally," he answered, "if no heirs come forward to claim the +estate, it will revert to the old line of descent through the blood +relations of Captain Allen." + +"And come into the possession of Mrs. Montgomery?" + +"Yes, if the courts are satisfied with the evidence which can be +presented in her favor." + +There followed a long silence, which Mrs. Montgomery was first to +break. + +"I believe," she said, firmly, "that I am prepared for the final +issue of this matter, whatever it may be. I shall still require +legal advice, Mr. Wallingford." + +The young man bowed assent. + +"And, as Judge Bigelow is one of the executors--" + +"I do not think, madam," said Wallingford, interrupting her, "that +the fact of his executorship will make him any the less a safe +adviser for you. He is a man of the highest integrity of character, +clear-seeing, and of impartial judgment." + +"I believe in his judgment and integrity," she replied. "Still, I do +not think it well to have these two interests represented by the +same man. You are his associate, if I understand correctly the +relation between you." + +"I am, in a certain sense." + +"Do you have a share in all of his business?" + +"Not in all." + +"So he can be independent of you in any special case if he deems it +desirable." + +"Yes." + +"And this is also true as regards yourself?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, Mr. Wallingford, I shall consult you, individually, in +future." + +He bowed low in acquiescence. + +"And let me say to you, once for all, that I want only my rights, if +I have any, protected. I do not wish any impediments thrown in the +way of a proper search for the heirs of Mrs. Allen; but desire to +see the fullest notice given, and in channels by which it is most +likely to reach them. At the same time, it is but just to me and +mine that all right steps should be taken to protect my interests, +in case no heirs should be found. And I have faith in you, Mr. +Wallingford." + +"You shall never have cause to regret your confidence, madam," he +replied, in a tone so full of manly integrity, that I could not but +gaze upon his fine countenance with a feeling of admiration. + +"Will you place this will in the hands of Judge Bigelow?" asked Mrs. +Montgomery. + +"It will be best for you to do that yourself, madam," replied +Wallingford. + +"I will be guided by your judgment in the case, sir. This very day I +will send him a note asking an interview." + +"After that, madam," said Wallingford, rising, "I will be at your +service." + +We retired together. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + + + +Both Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd were discreet men, and did not, +at the outset of their executorship, do more in the way of giving +publicity to the fact, than probating the will, and entering into +bonds for the faithful performance of the trust. For the present +they decided to let Mrs. Montgomery remain in occupancy of the old +mansion, and she accepted this concession in her favor. + +The property left by Captain Allen was large. The grounds upon which +the old house stood, embraced nearly twenty acres, and as the town +had grown in that direction, its value might now be estimated by the +foot, instead of the acre, as houses had grown up on all sides. +Moreover, the stream of water upon which the mill of Squire Floyd +stood, ran through these grounds, in a series of picturesque rapids, +giving a fall of over twenty feet. The value of this property, +including a mill site, was estimated at sixty thousand dollars. Then +there were twenty thousand dollars in stock of the County Bank, the +interest of which Mrs. Allen had drawn since the death of her +husband, regularly, as administratrix of the estate. Besides this +property, there were several pieces of unimproved land in and around +the town, the value of which could not fall much below twenty +thousand dollars. In addition to all this, was a coffee estate on +the island of Porto Rico. But as to its extent, or value, no +evidence appeared. It might now be richly productive, or a mere +tropical wilderness. If productive, no evidence of any return since +Captain Allen's death appeared. + +The winter passed without any apparent movement on the part of the +executors looking to the discovery of Mrs. Allen's heirs. Young +Dewey came up from New York every few weeks, to hold business +interviews with his uncle and Squire Floyd, touching the +mill-extension which was fully determined upon; Judge Bigelow +agreeing to invest twenty thousand dollars, and the nephew ten +thousand. All these matters were talked of in the beginning, freely, +before Wallingford, who still had his office with his old preceptor, +and shared in his business. After a while, he noticed a growing +reserve on the part of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, when he was +by, touching their private affairs; and then they ceased entirely +all reference thereto. + +Dewey came up as frequently as usual, but avoided any remark in +relation to business while in the presence of Wallingford. During +his stay in S----, the Judge spent but little time at the office; +being, for the most part, at the mill with his nephew and the +Squire. + +In the spring, a large force of men was set to work on the extension +of Squire Floyd's mill; and as Judge Bigelow had become largely +interested in the new enterprise, he gave a great deal more +attention to what was going on in that direction, than to the +business of his office, the heaviest part of which devolved upon Mr. +Wallingford. Still, no steps were taken to discover the heirs of +Mrs. Allen. Once or twice Mr. Wallingford had approached the +subject, but the Judge made no response. At last, he put the +question direct, as to what had been done. The Judge seemed a little +annoyed; but said, in a hurried way that was unusual with him, + +"I must, and will attend to this matter immediately. I have had so +much on my mind that it has been neglected." + +But the spring months passed--summer glided by--and still there was +no advertisement for heirs, nor any steps taken, so far as +Wallingford could learn, to ascertain their existence. + +Mrs. Montgomery still occupied the old mansion, waiting patiently +the issue whatever it might be. Her health, I regretted to find, was +not firm. She suffered a great deal from nervous debility; and I +saw, plainly, that she had failed considerably during the past few +months. Blanche, on the contrary, after recovering from the illness +which followed immediately on her arrival in S----, had continued in +excellent health; and was growing daily more matured and womanly +both as to mental development and personal bearing. + +The mill improvements went on all summer, exciting no little +interest in our town, and occasioning no small amount of talk and +speculation. It was some time in the fall of that year, that I was +permitted to hear this brief conversation between a couple of +townsmen. Mr. A----had made some query as to the source of all the +money expended on the new mill of Squire Floyd, which was now +standing forth, under roof, in most imposing proportions, compared +with the old works. Mr. B----shrugged his shoulders, and replied, + +"Floyd and the Judge are joint executors of old Allen's estate, you +know." + +"What does that signify?" inquired Mr. A----. + +"It may signify a great deal. They have trust funds in their +possession to a large amount, I am told." + +"They are both honorable men, and would not violate their trust," +said A----. + +"I will not gainsay that," answered Mr. B----. "Still, they may use +these funds temporarily, and wrong no one." + +Nothing more was said in my presence, but I turned their remarks +over and over again, feeling less satisfied the more I pondered +them. A day or two afterwards I met Mr. Wallingford, and said to +him, + +"How comes on the search for the heirs of the Allen estate?" + +The question caused him to look grave. + +"No progress has been made, so far as I can learn," he answered. + +"Isn't this indifference on the part of the executors a little +extraordinary?" I remarked. + +"I must confess that I do not understand it," said the young lawyer. + +"There is personal, as well as real estate?" + +"Yes. Stocks worth twenty thousand dollars." + +"I have heard it suggested, that trust funds in the case are going +into Squire Floyd's mill." + +Wallingford started at the suggestion, and looked for some moments +intently in my face; then dropped his eyes, and stood lost in +thought a good while. + +"Where did you hear the suggestion?" he at length inquired. + +I repeated the conversation just mentioned, and named the +individuals with whom it had occurred. + +"And now, Henry," said I, "put this hint, and the singular neglect +of the executors to search for the heirs to the Allen property, +together, and tell me how the matter shapes itself in your mind. We +speak confidentially with each other, of course." + +"I don't just like the appearance of it, that is all I can say, +Doctor," he replied in a half absent manner. + +"As you represent the interests of Mrs. Montgomery," said I, "is it +not your duty to look a little closer into this matter?" + +"It is; and I shall give it immediate attention." + +He did so, and to his surprise, found that all the bank stock had +been sold, and transferred. It was now plain to him where at least a +part of the funds being so liberally expended on the mill property +of Squire Floyd came from. On venturing to make some inquiries of +Judge Bigelow bearing on the subject, that individual showed an +unusual degree of irritation, and intimated, in terms not to be +misunderstood, that he thought himself competent to manage any +business he might undertake, and did not feel disposed to tolerate +any intermeddling." + +From that time, Wallingford saw that a separation from his old +preceptor was inevitable; and he so shaped events, that in less than +three months he made the separation easy and natural, and took an +office to himself alone. + +Still there was no movement on the part of the executors in regard +to the valuable estate in their hands. Summer and fall passed, and +Christmas saw the splendid improvements of Squire Floyd completed, +and the new mill in operation, under the vigorous power of steam. +The product thus secured was almost fabulous in the eyes of the half +asleep and awake people of S----, many of whom could hardly imagine +people enough in the country to consume the miles of cloth that came +streaming out from the rattling looms. And yet, we were informed, +that more than quadruple this product could be sold by the extensive +house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co.; and that all that stood in the +way of creating a magnificent fortune out of cotton bales, was the +lack of productive facilities. + +During this winter I saw more than usual of Mrs. Dewey. She came up +from New York with her nurse and child, a babe not quite a year old, +and spent over six weeks with her parents. She had lost, in the two +years which had passed since her marriage, nearly all those +beautiful traits of character which made her once so charming. +Fashionable city life seemed to have spoiled her altogether. Her +mind had not grown in the right direction. She had wholly abandoned +that tasteful reading through which intellectual refinement comes; +and to all appearance, no longer cared for anything beyond the mere +sensuous. Nothing in S----had any interest for her; and she scarcely +took the pains to conceal her contempt for certain sincere and +worthy people, who felt called upon, for the sake of her parents, to +show her some attention. She was not happy, of course. When in +repose; I noticed a discontented look on her face. Her eyes had lost +that clear, innocent, almost child-like beauty of expression, that +once made you gaze into them; and now had a cold, absent, or eagerly +longing expression, as if her thought were straining itself forward +towards some coveted good. + +Her conversation was almost always within the range of New York +fashionable themes; and barren of any food upon which the mind could +grow. There was not even the pretence of affection between her and +her husband. The fairest specimen of well bred indifference I had +yet seen was exhibited in their conduct to each other. Their babe +did not seem to be a matter of much account either. Delia took no +personal care of it whatever--leaving all this to the nurse. + +It happened one day that I was called in to see the child. I found +it suffering from some of the ill effects of difficult dentition, +and did what the case required. There was an old friend of Delia's +at the house--a young lady who had been much attached to her, and +who still retained a degree of her old friendship. They were talking +together in a pleasant, familiar way, when I came down stairs from +my visit to the sick child--the mother had not shown sufficient +interest in the little sufferer to attend me to the nurse's room. A +word or two of almost careless inquiry was made;--I had scarcely +answered the mother's queries, when her friend said, in a laughing +way, looking from the window at the same time, + +"There, Delia! see what you escaped." + +I turned my eyes in the same direction, and saw Mr. Wallingford +walking past, on the opposite side of the street, with his head bent +down. His step was slow, but firm, and his air and carriage manly. + +Delia shrugged her shoulders, and drew up the corners of her lips. +There was an expression very much like contempt on her face.--But +she did not make any reply. I saw this expression gradually fade +away, and her countenance grow sober. Her friend did not pursue the +banter, and the subject dropped. + +What she had escaped! It was a dark day in the calendar of her life, +when she made that escape; and I think there must have been times +when a consciousness of this fact pressed upon her soul like a +suffocating nightmare. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + + + +Spring opened again, and the days glided swiftly on towards summer; +and yet, so far as the movements of the executors could be traced, +nothing had been done in the work of searching for the heirs. One +day, early in June, Mrs. Montgomery sent for Mr. Wallingford. On +attending her, she placed in his hands a communication which she had +just received. It was from the executors, giving notice in a kind +and respectful way, that, for the interest of the legal heirs, and +their own security, it would be necessary for them to assume full +possession of the mansion and grounds, unless she felt willing to +pay a rental that was equivalent to the interest on their value. + +"I have expected this," said the lady; "and, so far from considering +myself aggrieved, feel grateful that a quiet residence here has been +so long accorded me." + +"You will remove?" + +"There is no other course left. My income will not justify a rent of +some three thousand dollars." + +"As the property is unproductive, no such rent as that will be +required." + +"The letter says, 'a rental equivalent to the interest on their +value.'" + +"I will see Judge Bigelow this morning, and ascertain precisely what +views are held in regard to this matter." + +They were sitting near one of the parlor windows that looked out +upon the portion of the grounds that sloped away towards the stream, +that threw its white folds of water from one rocky ledge to another +in graceful undulations. As Mr. Wallingford ceased speaking, Mrs. +Montgomery turned her head quickly and looked out. The sound of +voices had reached her ears. Three men had entered the grounds, and +were passing the window at a short distance. + +"Who are they?" asked Mr. Wallingford. Then, answering his own +question, he said, "Oh, I see; Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and +Ralph Dewey, his son-in-law." + +The three men, after going a few hundred rods in the direction of +the stream, turned and stood for some minutes looking at the house, +and talking earnestly. Dewey appeared to have the most to say, and +gesticulated quite freely. Then they moved on to that portion of the +stream where the water went gliding down the mimic rapids, and +remained there for a considerable time. It was plain that some +scheme was in their heads, for they took measurement by pacing off +the grounds in various directions; drew together in close conference +at times; then separated, each making some examination for himself; +and again stood in close deliberation. At last, as if satisfied with +their investigations, they returned by way of the mansion, and +passed out without calling. + +"Put that and that together, and there is a meaning in this +procedure beyond the simple rental of the place," said Wallingford. + +"What is your inference?" asked Mrs. Montgomery. + +"I have made none as yet," he replied. "But I will see Judge +Bigelow, and have some talk with him. Of course, I can have nothing +to say, adverse to a requirement of rent. Executors are responsible +for the right use of property in their hands, and must see that it +produces an interest, if in a position to pay anything. You do not, +of course, wish to occupy the whole of these grounds. It may be, +that the use of the house, garden, lawn, and appurtenances, may be +secured at a moderate rent. If so, do you wish to remain?" + +"I would prefer remaining here, if the rent is within a certain +sum." + +"Say three hundred dollars?" + +"Yes. If not beyond that sum, I will remain," replied Mrs. +Montgomery. + +The interview which Mr. Wallingford held with Judge Bigelow a few +hours afterwards, was not satisfactory. The proposition to let Mrs. +Montgomery and her daughter occupy the house, separate from the +extensive grounds, would not be entertained. It finally came out, +that an offer to purchase had been made by the firm of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co., with a view to the erection of extensive mills, +and that the executors were going to ask the Court for power to +sell, as a handsome sum could now be obtained. It further came out, +that in case this power was granted, Mr. Dewey was to reside in +S----, to superintend the erection of these mills, and afterwards to +join Squire Floyd in the management of both establishments--a +consolidation of interests between the mercantile and manufacturing +branches being about to take place. The old mansion was to undergo a +thorough revision, and become the domicile of the resident partner. + +With these plans in view, the executors insisted upon the removal of +Mrs. Montgomery; and notice as to time was given, which included +three months. Formal application was made to the Court having power +in the case, for authority to sell and re-invest. The reasons for so +doing were set forth in detail, and involved plausible arguments in +favor of the heirs whenever they should be found. + +Mr. Wallingford had personal reasons for not wishing to oppose this +application. The executors had been his friends from boyhood. +Especially towards Judge Bigelow did he entertain sentiments of deep +gratitude for his many favors and kindnesses. But his duty, as +counsel to Mrs. Montgomery, left him no alternative. She was heir +prospective to this property, and he did not believe that the plans +in view were best for her interests, in case no other heir was +found. So, he went before the Court, and opposed the prayer of the +executors. In doing so, he gained their ill-will, but did not +succeed in preventing a decree authorizing a sale of the property. +Dewey was present, a deeply interested listener to the arguments +that were advanced on both sides. After the decision, as Wallingford +was passing from the court-room, Dewey, who stood near the door, +talking with a gentleman, said, loud enough for the young lawyer to +hear him. + +"The hound! He got on the wrong scent that time!" + +A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he +repressed the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any +intimation that the offensive remark had reached him. + +As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was +made, Mrs. Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At +first she seemed inclined to favor a return to England; but after +repeated conferences with Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to +remain in this country. + +Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since +Mrs. Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being from +cloudland. The friendly relation established between us in the +beginning, had continued, growing more and more intimate. My good +Constance found in her a woman after her own heart. + +"The days I spend at the Allen House," she would often say to me, +"are days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure +and tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her +lifts me above the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, +and fills my mind with longings after those higher things into which +all must rise before that peace comes to the soul which passeth all +understanding. I return home from these interviews, happier in mind, +and stronger for life's duties. I do not know any term that so +clearly expresses my idea of this lady, as Christian philosopher." + +Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also +were times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed +a certain elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving +sphere about her after one of these pleasant seasons. + +The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much +as they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if +they were her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her +eighth year, almost lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came +without taking her home with her, and often kept her for two or +three days at a time. + +Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; +yet her manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. +She did not seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, +nor of the admiration her presence always extorted. No one could +meet her, as a stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from +ordinary contact--a being of superior mould with whom familiarity +was presumption. + +The companion of such a mother, who had with tender solicitude, from +childhood upwards, guarded all the avenues of her mind, lest false +principles or false views of things should find entrance; and as +carefully selected her mental food, in order that there might be +health of mind as well as health of body--it was not surprising to +find about her a solidity and strength of character, that showed +itself beneath the sweet grace of her external life, whenever +occasion for their exhibition arose. From her mother she had imbibed +a deep religious sentiment; but this did not manifest itself so much +in language, as in dutiful acts. I had often occasion to notice, +how, almost instinctively, she referred all things to a +superintending Providence; and looked into the future, veiled as it +is to all eyes, with a confidence that every thing would come out +right, beautiful to contemplate. What she meant by right, was +something more than is usually included in the words; for she had +learned from her wise teacher, that God's providence disposes the +things of this world for every individual in a way that serves best +his eternal interests; therefore, what was best in this sense, could +not fail to be right. + +To our deep regret, Mrs. Montgomery decided to change the place of +her residence from S----to Boston. All the reasons that led her to +this decision, I was not able to discover. Her life at the Allen +House had been quite secluded. She had been courteous to all the +people with whom she was brought into any degree of contact, and had +reciprocated all friendly visits; but there was a certain distance +between her and them, that it seemed impossible for either to pass +over. One of my inferences was, that, in removing from the retired +old mansion, and taking a modern house, she would stand out more +prominently before all eyes than was agreeable to her. Be this as it +may, she was in earnest about removing to Boston. + +I happened to be present when the announcement of this purposed +removal was made to Mr. Wallingford. He had called in, during one of +my visits to Mrs. Montgomery, for the transaction of some business. + +"To Boston?" he said, in a tone of surprise, and, I thought, +disappointment. At the same time I saw his eyes turned towards +Blanche. + +"Yes; I think it will be best," she replied. "If I have any +interests here, I feel that they are safe in your hands, Mr. +Wallingford." + +She leaned a little towards him, and I thought her voice had in it a +softer tone than usual. Her eyes looked steadily into his face. + +"I will do all that is right, madam." He spoke a little lower than +usual. + +"And the right is always the best in any case, Mr. Wallingford," +said she with feeling. + +"How soon do you think of removing?" the young man inquired. + +"In three or four weeks." + +"So soon." + +Again I noticed that his eyes wandered towards Blanche, who sat +close to her mother, with her face bent down and turned partly away. + +"There is no reason why we should linger in S----, after all things +are ready for removal. It would have suited my feelings and habits +of mind to have remained here; but as this cannot be, I prefer going +to Boston on more than one account." + +"You will leave behind you many sincere friends," said Wallingford. + +There was more feeling in his voice than usually showed itself; and +I again observed that Mrs. Montgomery, in responding to the remark, +fixed her eyes upon him steadily, and with, I thought, a look of +more than usual interest. + +The few weeks of preparation glided swiftly away, and then we parted +from friends who had won their way into our own hearts; and whose +memory would ever be to us like the fragrance of holy incense. I +learned from Mrs. Montgomery, before she left us, during a more +confidential talk than usual, that her income was comparatively +small, and that the chief part of this, a pension from Government in +acknowledgment of her husband's services, would cease at her death. +There was a momentary failure in her voice as she said this, and her +eyes turned with the instinct of love towards Blanche. + +At her desire, Mr. Wallingford attended them to Boston, and remained +away for three or four days. He then returned to S----, bringing +with him kind words from the absent ones. The old routine of life +went on again, each of us taking up the daily duty; yet I think +there was not one of the favored few who had known Mrs. Montgomery +and her daughter intimately, that was not stronger to do right in +every trial for the memory of these true-hearted strangers--no, +friends! + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + + + +It was in October when Mrs. Montgomery, after a residence of three +years in the Allen House, went from among us. Old "Aunty," and +another colored servant who had lived with Mrs. Allen, remained in +charge of the mansion. There was, of course, no removal of +furniture, as that belonged to the estate. Mrs. Montgomery had +brought with her three servants from England, a coachman, footman, +and maid. The footman was sent back after he had been a year in the +country; but the coachman and maid still lived with her, and +accompanied her to Boston. + +The large schemes of men ambitious for gain, will not suffer them to +linger by the way. Ralph Dewey had set his mind on getting +possession, jointly with others, of the valuable Allen property; and +as the Court had granted a decree of sale, he urged upon his +father-in-law and uncle an early day for its consummation. They were +in heart, honorable men, but they had embarked in grand enterprises +with at least one dishonest compeer, and were carried forward by an +impulse which they had not the courage or force of character to +resist. They thought that spring would be the best time to offer the +property for sale; but Dewey urged the fall as more consonant with +their views, and so the sale was fixed for the first day of +November. Notice was given in the country papers, and Dewey engaged +to see that the proposed sale was duly advertised in Boston and New +York. He managed, however, to omit that part of his duty. + +On the day of sale, quite a company of curious people assembled at +the Allen House, but when the property was offered, only a single +bid was offered. That came from Dewey, as the representative of +Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., and it was awarded to them for the sum of +thirty-five thousand dollars, a little more than half its real +value. + +From that time until spring opened, all remained quiet. Then began +the busy hum of preparation, and great things for our town +foreshadowed themselves. A hundred men went to work on the site +chosen for a new mill, digging, blasting, and hauling; while +carpenters and masons were busy in and around the old mansion, with +a view to its thorough renovation, as the future residence of Mr. +Ralph Dewey. That gentleman was on the ground, moving about with a +self-sufficient air, and giving his orders in a tone of authority +that most of the work people felt to be offensive. + +The antiquated furniture in the Allen House, rich though it was in +style and finish, would not suit our prospective millionaire, and it +was all sent to auction. From the auctioneers, it was scattered +among the town's people, who obtained some rare bargains. An old +French secretary came into my possession, at the cost of ten +dollars--the original owner could not have paid less than a hundred. +It was curiously inlaid with satin wood, and rich in quaint +carvings. There seemed to be no end to the discoveries I was +continually making among its intricate series of drawers, pigeon +holes, slides, and hidden receptacles. But some one had preceded me +in the examination, and had removed all the papers and documents it +contained. It flashed across my mind, as I explored the mazes of +this old piece of furniture, that it might contain, in some secret +drawer, another will. This thought caused the blood to leap along my +veins, my cheeks to burn, and my hands to tremble. I renewed the +examination, at first hurriedly; then with order and deliberation, +taking out each drawer, and feeling carefully all around the cavity +left by its removal, in the hope of touching some hidden spring. But +the search was fruitless. One drawer perplexed me considerably. I +could not pull it clear out, nor get access above or below to see +how closely the various partitions and compartments came up to its +sides, top, and bottom. After working with it for some time, I gave +up the search, and my enthusiasm in this direction soon died out. I +smiled to myself many times afterwards, in thinking of the idle +fancy which for a time possessed me. + +In May, the furnishing of the renovated house began. This took +nearly a month. Every thing was brought from New York. Car loads of +enormous boxes, bales, and articles not made up into packages, were +constantly arriving at the depot, and being conveyed to the Allen +House--the designation which the property retains even to this day. +The furniture was of the richest kind--the carpets, curtains, and +mirrors, princely in elegance. When all was ready for the proud +owners to come in and enjoy their splendid home, it was thrown open +for examination and admiration. All S----went to see the show, and +wander in dreamy amazement through parlors, halls, and chambers. I +went with the rest. The change seemed like the work of magic. I +could with difficulty make out the old landmarks. The spacious +rooms, newly painted and decked out in rich, modern furniture, +looked still more spacious. In place of the whitewashed ceilings and +dingy papered walls, graceful frescoes spread their light figures, +entrancing the eyes with their marvelous semblances. The great hall +received you with a statelier formality than before; for it, too, +had received also its gift of painting, and its golden broideries. +As you passed from room to room, you said--"This is the palace of a +prince--not the abode of a citizen." + +The grounds around the mansion had been subject to as thorough a +renovation as the mansion itself. The old gate had given place to +one of larger proportions, and more imposing design. A new +carriage-road swept away in a grander curve from the gate to the +dwelling. Substantial stone-stabling had been torn down in order to +erect a fanciful carriage-house, built in imitation of a Swiss +cottage; which, from its singular want of harmony with the principal +buildings, stood forth a perpetual commentary upon the false taste +of the upstart owner. + +I hardly think that either Mr. Dewey or his wife would have been +much flattered by the general tone of remark that ran through the +curious crowds that lingered in the elegant rooms, or inspected the +improvements outside. Nobody liked him; and as for his wife, +fashionable associations had so spoiled her, that not a single old +friend retained either affection or respect. It was sad to think +that three years of a false life could so entirely obliterate the +good qualities that once blossomed in her soul with such a sweet +promise of golden fruitage. + +Early in June, the family of Mr. Dewey took possession of their new +home, and the occasion was celebrated by a splendid entertainment, +the cost of which, common rumor said, was over two thousand dollars. +We--Constance and I--were among the invited guests. It was a festive +scene, brilliant and extravagant beyond anything we had ever +witnessed, and quite bewildering to minds like ours. Mrs. Dewey was +dressed like a queen, and radiant in pearls and diamonds. I +questioned her good taste in this, as hostess; and think she knew +better--but the temptation to astonish the good people of S----was +too strong to be resisted. + +After the curtain fell on this brilliant spectacle, Mrs. Dewey +assumed a stately air, showing, on all occasions, a conscious +superiority that was offensive to our really best people. There are +in all communities a class who toady to the rich; and we had a few +of these in S----. They flattered the Deweys, and basked in the +sunshine of their inflated grandeur. + +I was not one towards whom Mrs. Dewey put on superior airs. My +profession brought me into a kind of relation to her that set aside +all pretence. Very soon after her removal to S----, my services were +required in the family, one of her two children having been attacked +with measles. On the occasion of my first call, I referred, +naturally, to the fact of her removal from New York, and asked how +she liked the change. + +"I don't like it all, Doctor," she replied, in a dissatisfied tone. + +"Could heart desire more of elegance and comfort than you possess?" +I glanced around the richly decorated apartment in which we were +seated. + +"Gilded misery, Doctor!" She emphasized her words. + +I looked at her without speaking. She understood my expression of +surprise. + +"I need not tell you, Doctor, that a fine house and fine furniture +are not everything in this world." + +I thought her waking up to a better state of mind, through the +irrepressible yearnings of a soul that could find no sustenance amid +the husks of this outer life. + +"They go but a little way towards making up the aggregate of human +happiness," said I. + +"All well enough in their place. But, to my thinking, sadly out of +place here. We must have society, Doctor." + +"True." My voice was a little rough. I had mistaken her. + +"But there is no society here!" And she tossed her head a little +contemptuously. + +"Not much fashionable society I will grant you, Delia." + +She pursed up her lips and looked disagreeable. + +"I shall die of ennui before six months. What am I to do with +myself?" + +"Act like a true woman," said I, firmly. + +She lifted her eyes suddenly to my face as if I had presumed. + +"Do your duty as a wife and mother," I added, "and there will be no +danger of your dying with ennui." + +"You speak as if I were derelict in this matter." + +She drew herself up with some dignity of manner. + +"I merely prescribed a remedy for a disease from which you are +suffering," said I, calmly. "Thousands of women scattered all over +the land are martyrs to this disease; and there is only one +remedy--that which I offer to you, Delia." + +I think she saw, from my manner, that it would be useless to quarrel +with me. I was so much in earnest that truth came to my lips in any +attempt at utterance. + +"What would you have me do, Doctor?" There was a petty fretfulness +in her voice. "Turn cook or nursery-maid?" + +"Yes, rather than sit idle, and let your restless mind fret itself +for want of useful employment into unhappiness." + +"I cannot take your prescription in that crude form," she replied, +with more seriousness than I had expected. + +"It is not requisite to a cure," said I. "Only let your thought and +purpose fall into the sphere of home. Think of your husband as one +to be made happier by your personal control of such household +matters as touch his comfort; of your babes as tender, precious +things, blessed by your sleepless care, or hurt by your neglect; of +your domestics, as requiring orderly supervision, lest they bring +discord into your home, or waste your substance. Every household, +Delia, is a little government, and the governor must be as watchful +over all its concerns as the governor of a state. Take, then, the +reins of office firmly into your hands, dispose of everything +according to the best of your judgment, and require orderly +obedience from every subject. But act wisely and kindly. Do this, my +young friend, and you will not be troubled with the fashionable +complaint--ennui." + +"That is, sink down into a mere housekeeper," she remarked; "weigh +out the flour, count the eggs, fill the sugar bowls, and grow +learned in cookery-books. I think I see myself wandering about from +cellar to garret, jingling a great bunch of keys, prying into +rubbish-corners, and scolding lazy cooks and idle chambermaids!" + +She laughed a short, artificial laugh, and then added-- + +"Is that the picture of what you mean, Doctor?" + +"It is the picture of a happier woman than you are, Delia," said I, +seriously. + +The suggestion seemed to startle her. + +"You speak very confidently, Doctor." + +"With the confidence of one who makes diseases and their cure his +study. I know something of the human soul as well as the human body, +and of the maladies to which both are subjected. A cure is hopeless +in either case, unless the patient will accept the remedy. Pain of +body is the indicator of disease, and gives warning that an enemy to +life has found a lodgment; pain of mind is the same phenomenon, only +showing itself in a higher sphere, and for the same purpose. If you +are unhappy, surrounded by all this elegance, and with the means of +gratifying every orderly wish, it shows that an enemy to your soul +has entered through some unguarded gateway. You cannot get rid of +this enemy by any change of place, or by any new associations. +Society will not help you. The excitement of shows; gauds, glitter, +pageants; the brief triumphs gained in fashionable tournaments, will +not expel this foe of your higher and nobler life, but only veil, +for brief seasons, his presence from your consciousness. When these +are past, and you retire into yourself, then comes back the pain, +the languor, the excessive weariness. Is it not so, Delia? Is not +this your sad experience?" + +I paused. Her eyes had fallen to the floor. She sat very still, like +one who was thinking deeply. + +"The plodding housekeeper, whose picture you drew just now--humble, +even mean in your regard though she be--sinks to peaceful sleep when +her tasks are done, and rises refreshed at coming dawn. If she is +happier than your fine lady, whose dainty hands cannot bear the soil +of these common things, why? Ponder this subject, Delia. It concerns +you deeply. It is the happiest state in life that we all strive to +gain; but you may lay it up in your heart as immutable truth, that +happiness never comes to any one, except through a useful employment +of all the powers which God has given to us. The idle are the most +miserable--and none are more miserable in their ever-recurring +ennuied hours, than your fashionable idlers. We see them only in +their holiday attire, tricked out for show, and radiant in reflected +smiles. Alas! If we could go back with them to their homes, and sit +beside them, unseen, in their lonely hours, would not pity fill our +hearts? My dear young friend! Turn your feet aside from this way--it +is the path that leads to unutterable wretchedness." + +The earnestness of my manner added force to what I said, and +constrained at least a momentary conviction. + +"You speak strongly, Doctor," she said, with the air of one who +could not look aside from an unpleasant truth. + +"Not too strongly, Delia. Is it not as I have said? Are not your +mere society-ladies too often miserable at home?" + +She sighed heavily, as if unpleasant images were forcing themselves +upon her mind. I felt that I might follow up the impression I had +made, and resumed: + +There was a time, Delia--and it lies only three or four short years +backward on your path of life--when I read in your opening mind a +promise of higher things than have yet been attained--you must +pardon the freedom of an old but true friend. A time when thought, +taste, feeling were all building for themselves a habitation, the +stones whereof were truths, and the decorations within and without +pure and good affections. All this--"I glanced at the rich +furniture, mirrors, and curtains--"is poor and mean to that dwelling +place of the soul, the foundations for which you once commenced +laying. Are you happier now than then? Have the half bewildering +experiences through which you have passed satisfied you that you are +in the right way? That life's highest blessings are to be found in +these pageantries? Think, think, my dear young friend! Look inwards. +Search into your heart, and try the quality of its motives. Examine +the foundation upon which you are building, and if it is sand, in +heaven's name stop, and look for solid earth on which to place the +corner stone of your temple of happiness." + +"You bewilder me, Doctor," she said, in reply to this. "I can't +think, I can't look inwards. If I am building on a sandy foundation, +God help me!--for I cannot turn back to search for the solid earth +of which you speak." + +"But--" + +She raised her hand and said, + +"Spare me, Doctor. I know you are truthful and sincere--a friend who +may be trusted--but you cannot see as I see, nor know as I know. I +have chosen my way, and must walk in it, even to the end, let it +terminate as it will. I had once a dream of other things--a sweet, +entrancing dream while it lasted--but to me it can never be more +than a dream. There are quiet, secluded, peaceful ways in life, and +happy are they who are content to walk in them. But they are not for +my feet, and I do not envy those who hide themselves in tranquil +valleys, or linger on the distant hill-slopes. The crowd, the hum, +the shock of social life for me!" + +"But this you cannot have in S----. And is it not the part of a wise +woman--" + +"Again, Doctor, let me beg of you to spare me." she said, lifting +her hands, and turning her face partly away. "I only half comprehend +you, and am hurt and disturbed by your well-meant suggestions. I am +not a wise woman, in your sense of the word, and cannot take your +admonitions to heart. Let us talk of something else." + +And she changed the subject, as well as her whole manner and +expression of countenance, with a promptness that surprised me; +showing the existence of will and self-control that in a right +direction would have given her large power for good. + +It was the first and last time I ventured to speak with her so +freely. Always afterwards, when we met, there was an impression of +uneasiness on her part, as if she had an unpleasant remembrance, or +feared that I would venture upon some disagreeable theme. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + + + +Steadily, under the busy hands of hundreds of workmen, the new +buildings arose, stretching their far lengths along, and towering +up, story after story. Steam, in addition to water power, was +contemplated here also, for the looms and spindles to be driven were +nearly twice the number contained in the other mill. + +Disappointments and vexatious delays nearly always attend large +building operations, and the present case formed no exception. The +time within which everything was to be completed, and the mill to go +into operation, was one year. Two years elapsed before the first +bale of goods came through its ample doors, ready for market. + +Of course there was a large expenditure of money in S----, and this +was a great thing for our town. Property rose in value, houses were +built, and the whole community felt that a new era had dawned--an +era of growth and prosperity. Among other signs of advancement, was +the establishment of a new Bank. The "Clinton Bank" it was called. +The charter had been obtained through the influence of Judge +Bigelow, who had several warm personal friends in the Legislature. +There was not a great deal of loose money in S----to flow easily +into bank stocks; but for all that the shares were soon taken, and +all the provisions of the charter complied with. Judge Bigelow +subscribed freely; so did Squire Floyd and Mr. Dewey. Other +townsmen, to the number of twenty or thirty, put down their names +for a few shares. It was from New York, however, that the largest +subscriptions came; and it was New York shareholders, voting by +proxy, who elected the Board of Directors, and determined the choice +of officers. Judge Bigelow was elected President, and a Mr. Joshua +King, from New York, Cashier. The tellers and book-keepers were +selected from among our own people. + +The Clinton Bank and the new mills went into operation about the +same time. Years of prosperity followed. Money was plenty in our +town, and everybody was growing better off. Dewey was still the +manufacturing partner of the large house in New York, whose demand +for goods it seemed impossible to satisfy. He was a great man in +S----. People spoke of him as possessing vast mental as well as +money resources; as having expansive views of trade and finance; as +being a man of extraordinary ability. I listened to all these things +as I passed around among our citizens, plodding along in my +profession, and managing to grow just a little better off each year; +and wondered within myself if I were really mistaken in the man--if +there was a solid basis of right judgment below all this splendid +seeming. + +And what of our friend Wallingford, during those busy years? Like +myself, he moved so quietly through his round of professional +duties, as to attract little attention. But he had been growing in +all this time--growing in mental stature; and growing in the +confidence of all just men. Judge Bigelow's interest in the mills, +and in the new Bank, drew his attention so much away from his law +cases, that clients began to grow dissatisfied, and this threw a +great deal of excellent business into the hands of Wallingford, who, +if not always successful in his cases, so managed them as to retain +the confidence and good will of all who employed him. He got the +character in our town of a safe adviser. If a man had a difficulty +with a neighbor, and talked of going to law with him, in all +probability some one would say-- + +"Go to Mr. Wallingford; he will tell you, on the spot, if there is +any chance for you in Court." + +And he bore this character justly. A thorn in the side he had proved +to the three great mill owners, Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and +Ralph Dewey. The two former failed entirely, in his view, as to the +right steps for discovering the heirs to the large property in their +hands, all of which had been changed from its original position; +while the latter showed ill-feeling whenever Wallingford, as he +continued to do, at stated intervals, filed interrogatories, and +required answers as to the condition of the trust, and the prospects +of finding heirs. + +Ten years had elapsed since the discovery of Mr. Allen's will, and +yet no heirs had presented themselves. And now Mr. Wallingford took +formal issue in the case, and demanded the property for his client, +Mrs. Montgomery, who was still living in Boston with her daughter, +in a retired way. Nearly one-half of her income had been cut off, +and her circumstances were, in consequence, greatly reduced. Her +health was feeble, having steadily declined since her removal from +S----. An occasional letter passed between her and my wife; and it +was in this way that I learned of her health and condition. How free +was all she wrote from repining or despondency--how full of +Christian faith, hope, and patience! You could not read one of her +letters without growing stronger for the right--without seeing the +world as through a reversed telescope. + +A time was fixed for hearing the case, which, now that it assumed +this important shape, excited great interest among the people of +S----. When the matter came fairly into court, Mr. Wallingford +presented his clearly arranged documentary evidence, in proof of +Mrs. Montgomery's identity as the sister of Captain Allen, and +claimed the property as hers. He covered, in anticipation, every +possible ground of objection; bringing forward, at the same time, +such an array of precedents and decisions bearing upon the case, +that it was clear to every one on which side the decision would lie. + +At this important juncture a letter, post-marked in New York on the +day before, was offered in court, and a demand, based on its +contents, made for a stay of proceedings. It came from the Spanish +Consul, and was addressed to Abel Bigelow and John Floyd, executors +of the late Captain Allen, and notified them that he had just +received letters from San Juan De Porto Rico, containing information +as to the existence of an heir to the estate in the person of a boy +named Leon Garcia, nephew to the late Mrs. Allen. The case was +immediately laid over until the next term of court. + +In the meantime, steps were promptly taken to ascertain the truth of +this assumption. An agent was sent out to the island of Porto Rico, +who brought back all the proofs needed to establish the claim, and +also the lad himself, who was represented to be in his fourteenth +year. He was a coarse, wicked-looking boy, who, it was plain, had +not yet fully awakened to a realizing sense of the good fortune that +awaited him. + +A resolute opposition was made by Wallingford, but all the evidence +adduced to prove Leon Garcia's relationship to Mrs. Allen was too +clear, and so the court dismissed the case, and appointed Ralph +Dewey as guardian to the boy, who was immediately placed at school +in a neighboring town. + +So ended this long season of suspense. Immediately on the decision +of the case, Wallingford went to Boston to see Mrs. Montgomery, and +remained absent nearly a week. I saw him soon after his return. + +"How did she bear this final dashing of her hopes to the earth?" I +asked. + +"As any one who knew her well might have expected," he answered, +with so little apparent feeling that I thought him indifferent. + +"As a Christian philosopher," said I. + +"You make use of exactly the right words," he remarked. "Yes, as a +Christian philosopher. As one who thinks and reasons as well as +feels. I have seen a great many so-called religious people in my +time. People who had much to say about their-spiritual experiences +and hopes of heaven. But never one who so made obedience to the +strict law of right, in all its plain, common-sense interpretations, +a matter of common duty. I do not believe that for anything this +world could offer her, Mrs. Montgomery would swerve a hair's breadth +from justice. I have been in the position to see her tempted; have, +myself, been the tempter over and over again during the ten years in +which I represented her claims to the Allen estate; but her +principles were immovable as the hills. Once, I shall never forget +the incident--I pressed her to adopt a certain course of procedure, +involving a law quibble, in order to get possession of the property. +She looked at me for a moment or two, with a flushing face. Then her +countenance grew serene, almost heavenly, and she gave me this +memorable reply--'Mr. Wallingford, I have a richer estate than this +in expectancy, and cannot mar the title.' And she has not marred it, +Doctor." + +"How did her daughter receive the news?" I inquired. I thought he +turned his face a little away, as he answered. + +"Not so well as her mother." I knew his voice was lower. "When I +announced the fact that the claims of young Garcia had been admitted +by the court, tears sprung to her eyes, and a shadow fell upon her +countenance such as I have never seen there before." + +"She is younger and less disciplined," said I. + +"Few at her age," he answered, are so well disciplined" + +"Will they still remain in Boston?" I asked. + +"Yes, for the present," he answered, and we parted. A few months +after this, my wife said to me one day, + +"Did you hear that Mr. Wallingford had bought the pretty little +cottage on Cedar Lane, where Jacob Homer lived?" + +"Is that true?" + +"It is said so. In fact, I heard it from Jane Homer, and that is +pretty good authority." + +"Is he going to live there with his mother?" + +"Jane did not know. Her husband went behind hand the year he built +the cottage, and never was able to get up even with the world. So +they determined to sell their place, pay off their debts, and find +contentment in a rented house. Mr. Homer said something to Mr. +Wallingford on the subject, and he offered to buy the property at a +fair price." + +A few days afterwards, in passing along Cedar Lane, I noticed a +carpenter at work in the pretty cottage above referred to; and also +a gardener who was trimming the shrubbery. + +Good morning, William, "I spoke to the gardener with whom I was well +acquainted. This is a nice cozy place." + +"Indeed and it is, Doctor. Mr. Homer took great pride in it." + +"And showed much taste in gardening" + +"You may well say that, Doctor. There isn't a finer shrubbery to any +garden in S----." + +"Is Mr. Wallingford going to live here, or does he intend renting +the cottage?" + +"That's more than I can answer, Doctor. Mr. Wallingford isn't the +man, you know, to talk with everybody about his affairs." + +"True enough, William," said I smiling and passed on. + +"Did you know," said my wife, a few weeks later, "that Mr. +Wallingford was furnishing the cottage on Cedar Lane?" + +"Ah! Is that so?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Dean told me that Jones the cabinet maker had the order, +which was completed, and that the furniture was now going in. +Everything, she says, is plain and neat, but good." + +"Why, what can this mean, Constance? Is our young friend about to +marry?" + +"It has a look that way, I fancy." + +"But who is the bride to be?" I asked. + +"Mrs. Dean thinks it is Florence Williams." + +"A fine girl; but hardly worthy of Henry Wallingford. Besides, he is +ten year her senior," said I. + +"What is the difference in our ages. dear?" Constance turned her +fresh young face to mine--fresh and young still, though more than +thirty-five years had thrown across it their lights and shadows, and +laid her head fondly against my breast. + +I kissed her tenderly, and she answered her own question. + +"Ten years; and you are not so much my senior. I do not see any +force in that objection. Still if I had been commissioned to select +a wife for Mr. Wallingford, I would not have chosen Florence +Williams." + +"Her father is well off, and growing richer every day." + +"Worth taking into the account, I suppose, as one of the reasons in +favor of the choice," said my wife. "But I hardly think Wallingford +is the man to let that consideration have much influence." + +There was no mistake about the matter of furnishing Ivy Cottage, as +the place was called. I saw carpets going in on the very next day. +All the shrubbery had been trimmed, the grounds cleared up and put +in order, and many choice flowers planted in borders already rich in +floral treasures. + +Curiosity now began to flutter its wings, lift up its head, and look +around sharply. Many arrows had taken their flight towards the heart +of our young bachelor lawyer, but, until now, there had been no +evidence of a wound. What fair maiden had conquered at last? I met +him not long after, walking in the street with Florence Williams. +She looked smiling and happy; and his face was brighter than I had +ever seen it. This confirmed to me the rumor. + +Mrs. Wallingford was not to be approached on the subject. If she +knew of an intended marriage, she feigned ignorance; and affected +not to understand the hints, questions, and surmises of curious +neighbors. + +A week or two later, and I missed Wallingford from his office. The +lad in attendance said that he was away from the town, but would +return in a few days. + +"I have a surprise for you," said my wife on that very afternoon. +She had a letter in her hand just received by post. Her whole face +was radiant with pleasure. Drawing a card from the envelope, she +held it before my eyes. I read the names of _Henry Wallingford_ and +_Blanche Montgomery_, and the words, "At home Wednesday evening, +June 15th. Ivy Cottage." + +"Bravo!" I exclaimed, as soon as a momentary bewilderment passed, +showing more than my wonted enthusiasm. "The best match since Hymen +linked our fates together, Constance." + +"May it prove as happy a one!" my wife answered, with a glance of +tenderness. + +"It will, Constance--it will. That is a marriage after my own heart; +one that I have, now and then, dimly foreshadowed in imagination, +but never thought to see." + +"It is over five years since we saw Blanche," remarked Constance. "I +wonder how she looks! If life's sunshine and rain have produced a +rich harvest in her soul, or only abraded the surface, and marred +the sweet beauty that captivated us of old! I wonder how she has +borne the shadowing of earthly prospects--the change from luxurious +surroundings!" + +"They have not dimmed the virgin gold; you may be sure of that, +Constance," was my reply to this. + +"At home, Wednesday evening, June fifteenth." + +And this was Tuesday. Only a single day intervened. And yet it +seemed like a week in anticipation, so eager did we grow for the +promised re-union with friends whose memory was in our hearts as the +sound of pleasant music. + +It was eight o'clock, on Wednesday evening, when we entered Ivy +Cottage, our hearts beating with quickened strokes under their +burden of pleasant anticipation. What a queenly woman stood revealed +to us, as we entered the little parlor! I would hardly have known +her as the almost shrinking girl from whom we parted not many years +before. How wonderfully she had developed! Figure, face, air, +manner, attitude--all showed the woman of heart, mind, and purpose. +Yet, nothing struck you as masculine; but rather as exquisitely +feminine. It took but one glance at her serene face, to solve the +query as to whether there had been a free gift of heart as well as +hand. My eyes turned next to the pale, thin face of Mrs. Montgomery, +who sat, or half reclined, in a large cushioned chair. She was +looking at her daughter. That expression of blended love and pride, +will it ever cease to be a sweet picture in my memory? All was +right--I saw that in the first instant of time. + +The reception was not a formal one. There was no display of orange +blossoms, airy veils, and glittering jewels--but a simple welcoming +of a few old friends, who had come to heart-congratulations. It was +the happiest bridal reception--always excepting the one in which my +Constance wore the orange wreath--that I had ever seen. Do you +inquire of Wallingford, as to how he looked and seemed? Worthy of +the splendid woman who stood by his side and leaned towards him with +such a sweet assurance. How beautiful it was to see the proud look +with which she turned her eyes upon him, whenever he spoke! It was +plain, that to her, his words had deeper meanings in them, than came +to other ears. + +"It is all right, I see." I had drawn a chair close to the one in +which Mrs. Montgomery sat, and was holding in mine the thin, almost +shadowy hand which she had extended. + +"Yes, it is all right, Doctor," she answered, as a smile lit up her +pale face. "All right, and I am numbered among the happiest of +mothers. He is not titled, nor rich, nor noble in the vulgar +sense--but titled, and rich, and noble as God gives rank and wealth. +I came to this land of promise ten years ago, in search of an estate +for my child; and I have found it, at last. Ah, Doctor"--and site +glanced upwards as she spoke--"His ways are not as our ways. And if +we will only trust in Him, He will bring such things to pass, as +never entered into the imagination of cur hearts. I did not dream of +this man as the husband of my child, when I gave my business into +his care. The remote suggestion of such a thing would have offended +me; for my heart was full of false pride, though I knew it not. But +there was a destiny for Blanche, foreshadowed for me then, but not +seen." + +"It is the quality of the man," I said, "that determines the quality +of the marriage. She who weds best, weds the truest man. The rank +and wealth are of the last consideration. To make them first, is the +blindest folly of the blindest." + +"Ah, if this were but rightly understood"--said Mrs. +Montgomery--"what new lives would people begin to live in the world! +How the shadows that dwell among so many households--even those of +the fairest external seeming--would begin to lift themselves upward +and roll away, letting in the sunlight and filling the chambers of +discord with heavenly music! I have sometimes thought, that more +than half the misery which curses the world springs from discordant +marriages." + +"The estimate is low," I answered. "If you had said two-thirds, you +would have been, perhaps, nearer the truth." + +Blanche crossed the room, and came and stood by her mother's chair, +looking down into her face with a loving smile. + +"I am afraid the journey has been too much for you," she said, with +a shadow of concern in her face. + +"You look paler than usual." + +"Paler, because a little fatigued, dear. But a night's rest will +bring me up even again," Mrs. Montgomery replied cheerfully. + +"How is the pain in your side, now?" asked Blanche, still with a +look of concern. + +"Easier. I scarcely notice it now." + +"Blanche is over anxious about my health, dear girl!" said Mrs. +Montgomery, as the bride moved to another part of the room. She +thinks me failing rapidly. And, without doubt, the foundations of +this earthly house are giving way; but I trust, that ere it fall +into ruin, a house not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens, +will be ready for my reception." + +There was no depressing solemnity in her tones, as she thus alluded +to that event which comes to all; but a smiling cheerfulness of +manner that was contagious. + +"You think of death as a Christian," said I. + +"And how else should I think of it?" she replied. "Can I not trust +Him in whom I have believed? What is it more than passing from a +lower to a higher state of life--from the natural to the spiritual +world? When the hour comes, I will lay me down in peace and sleep." + +She remained silent for some moments, her thoughts apparently +indrawn. The brief, closing sentence was spoken as if she were +lapsing into reverie. I thought the subject hardly in place for a +wedding occasion, and was about starting another theme, when she +said-- + +"Do you not think, Doctor, that this dread of dying, which haunts +most people like a fearful spectre--the good as well as the bad--is +a very foolish thing? We are taught, from childhood, to look forward +to death as the greatest of all calamities; as a change attended by +indefinable terrors. Teachers and preachers ring in our ears the +same dread chimes, thrilling the strongest nerves and appalling the +stoutest hearts. Death is pictured to us as a grim monster; and we +shudder as we look at the ghastly apparition. Now, all this comes +from what is false. Death is not the crowning evil of our lives; but +the door through which we pass, tranquilly, into that eternal world, +which is our destined home. I hold in my thought a different picture +of Death from that which affrighted me in childhood. The form is one +of angelic beauty, and the countenance full of love. I know, that +when I pass along the dark and narrow way that leads from this outer +world of nature, to the inner world from which it has existence, +that my hand will rest firmly in that of an angel, commissioned of +God to guide my peaceful footsteps. Is not that a better faith?" + +"Yes, a better and a truer," said I. + +"It is not the death passage that we need fear. That has in it no +intrinsic evil. It is the sleep of mortality, and the rest is sweet +to all. If we give place to fear, let it be for that state beyond +the bourne, which will be unhappy in the degree that we are lovers +of self and the world--that is, lovers of evil instead of good. As +the tree falls, so it lies, Doctor. As our quality is at death, so +will it remain to all eternity. Here is the just occasion for +dread." + +She would have kept on, but her attention was drawn away by the +remark of a lady who came up at the moment. I left her side and +passed to another part of the room; but her words, tone, and +impressive manner remained with me. I turned my eyes often during +the evening upon her pale, pure face, which seemed like a +transparent veil through which the spirit half revealed itself. How +greatly she had changed in five years! There had been trial and +discipline; and she had come up from them purer for the ordeal. The +flesh had failed; but the spirit had taken on strength and beauty. + +"How did Mrs. Montgomery impress you?" said I to my wife, as we sat +down together on our return home. + +"As one ready to be translated," she answered. "I was at a loss to +determine which was the most beautiful, she or Blanche." + +"You cannot make a comparison between them as to beauty," I +remarked. + +"Not as to beauty in the same degree. The beauty of Blanche was +queenly; that of her mother angelic. All things lovely in nature +were collated, and expressed themselves in the younger as she stood +blushing in the ripeness of her charms; while all things lovely in +the soul beamed forth from the countenance of the elder. And so, as +I have said, I was at a loss to determine which was most beautiful." + +I was just rising from my early breakfast on the next morning when I +received a hurried message from Ivy Cottage. The angel of Death had +been there. Tenderly and lovingly had he taken the hand of Mrs. +Montgomery, and led her through the gate that opens into the land of +immortals. She received her daughter's kiss at eleven o'clock, held +her for some moments, gazing into her face, and then +said--"Good-night, my precious one! Good-night, and God bless you!" +At seven in the morning she was found lying in bed with a smile on +her face, but cold and lifeless as marble! There had been no strife +with the heavenly messenger. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + + + +No;--there had been no strife with the heavenly messenger. As a +child falls asleep in its mother's arms, so fell Mrs. Montgomery +asleep in the arms of an angel--tranquil, peaceful, happy. I say +happy--for in lapsing away into that mortal sleep, of which our +natural sleep is but an image, shall the world-weary who have in +trial and suffering grown heavenly minded, sink into unconsciousness +with less of tranquil delight than the babe pillowed against its +mother's bosom? I think not. + +As I gazed upon her dead face, where the parting soul had left its +sign of peace, I prayed that, when I passed from my labors, there +might be as few stains of earth upon my garments. + +"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, Yea, saith the Spirit, for +they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." + +I found myself repeating these holy words, as I stood looking at the +white, shrunken features of the departed. + +It was not until the next day that I saw Blanche. But Constance was +with her immediately after the sad news jarred upon her sympathizing +heart. + +"How did you leave her?" was my anxious query, on meeting my wife at +home. + +"Calm," was the brief answer. + +How much the word included! + +"Did you talk with her?" + +"Not a great deal; she did not seem inclined to talk, like some who +seek relief through expression. I found her alone in the room next +to the one in which the body of her mother was lying. She was +sitting by a table, with one hand pressed over her eyes, as I +entered. 'Oh, my friend! my dear friend!' she said, in a tone of +grief, rising and coming a step or two to meet me. I drew my arms +around her, and she laid her head against me and sobbed three or +four times, while the tears ran down and dropped upon the floor. 'It +is well with her!' I said. + +"'Oh, yes, my friend, it is well with her,' she answered, +mournfully, 'well with her, but not with me. How shall I walk onward +in life's difficult ways, without my mother's arm to lean upon? My +steps already hesitate.' + +"'You have another arm to lean upon,' I ventured to suggest. + +"'Yes, a strong arm upon which I can lean in unfaltering trust. In +this God has been good to me. But my wise, patient mother--how shall +I live without her?' + +"'She is only removed from you as to bodily presence,' said I. 'Love +conjoins your souls as intimately as ever.' + +"'Ah, yes, I know this must be. Too many times have I heard that +comforting truth from her lips ever to forget it. But while we are +in the body, the mind will not rest satisfied with any thing less +than bodily presence.' + +"I did not press the point, for I knew that in all sorrow the heart +is its own best comforter, and gathers for itself themes of +consolation that even the nearest friend would fail to suggest. We +went in together to look at the frail tabernacle from which the pure +spirit of her mother had departed forever! How sweetly the smile +left upon the lips in the last kiss of parting, lingered there +still, fixed in human marble with more than a sculptor's art! There +was no passionate weeping, as we stood by the lifeless clay. Very +calm and silent she was; but oh, what a look of intense love went +out from her sad eyes! Not despairing but hopeful love. The curtain +of death hid from her no land of shadows and mystery; but a world of +spiritual realities. Her mother had not gone shrinking and trembling +into regions of darkness and doubt; but in the blessed assurance of +a peaceful reception in the house of her friends. + +"How a true faith," said I, strongly impressed by the images which +were presented to my mind, "strips from death its old terrors! When +the Apostle exclaimed, 'Oh, grave, where is thy victory? oh, death, +where is thy sting?' his mind looked deeper into the mystery of +dying, and saw farther into the world beyond, than do our modern +Christians, who frighten us with images of terror. 'I will lay me +down in peace and sleep,' when the time of my departure comes, +should be the heart-language of every one who takes upon himself the +name of Him who said, 'In my Father's house are many mansions. I go +to prepare a place for you, that where I am, ye may be also.'" + +"Since I knew Mrs. Montgomery, and felt the sphere of her quality," +said Constance, "my perceptions of life and duty here, and their +connection with life and happiness hereafter, have been elevated to +a higher region. I see no longer as in a glass darkly, but in the +light of reason, made clear by the more interior light of +Revelation." + +"And the same is true with me," I replied. "We may well say that it +was good to have known her. She was so true, so just, so unconscious +of self, that truth, justice, and unselfishness were always lovelier +in your eyes for having seen them illustrated in her person. And +there was no pious cant about her. No parade of her unworthiness; no +solemn aspects, nor obtrusive writings of bitter things against +herself. But always an effort to repress what was evil in her +nature; and a state of quiet, religious trust, which said, 'I know +in whom I have believed.'" + +"Ah," said Constance, "if there was only more of such religion in +the world!" + +"It would be a happier world than it is," I answered. + +"By the impress of a life like hers, what lasting good is done!" +said my wife. "Such are the salt of the earth. Cities set upon +hills. Lights in candlesticks. They live not in vain!'" + +I did not see Blanche until the day of burial. Her beautiful face +was calm, but very pale. It bore strongly the impress of sorrow, but +not of that hopeless sorrow which we so often see on these mournful +occasions. It was very plain that her thoughts were not lingering +around the shrouded and coffined form of what was once her mother's +body, but were following her into the world beyond our mortal +vision, as we follow a dear friend who has gone from us on a long +journey. + +And thus it was that Blanche Montgomery entered upon her new life. +Death's shadow fell upon the torch of Hymen. There was a rain of +grief just as the sun of love poured forth his brightest beams, and +the bow which spanned the horizon gave, in that hour of grief, sweet +promise for the future. + +These exciting events in the experience of our young friends had +come upon us so suddenly, that our minds were half bewildered. A few +weeks served, however, to bring all things into a right adjustment +with our own daily life and thought, and Ivy Cottage became one of +the places that grew dearer to us for the accumulating memories of +pleasant hours spent there with true-hearted ones who were living +for something more than the unreal things of this world. + +How many times was the life that beat so feverishly in the Allen +House, and that which moved to such even pulsings in Ivy Cottage, +contrasted in my observation! Ten years of a marriage such as Delia +Floyd so unwisely consummated, had not served for the development of +her inner life to any right purpose. She had kept on in the wrong +way taken by her feet in the beginning, growing purse proud, vain, +ambitious of external pre-eminence, worldly-minded, and +self-indulgent. She had four children, who were given up almost +wholly to the care of hirelings. There was, consequent upon neglect, +ignorance, and bad regimen, a great deal of sickness among them, and +I was frequently called in to interpose my skill for their relief. +Poor little suffering ones! how often I pitied them An occasional +warning was thrown in, but it was scarcely heeded by the mother, who +had put on towards me a reserved stateliness, that precluded all +friendly remonstrance. + +At least two months of every summer Mrs. Dewey was absent from +S----, intermitting between Saratoga and Newport, where she +abandoned herself to all the excitements of fashionable dissipation. +Regularly each year we saw her name in the New York correspondence +of the Herald, as the "fascinating Mrs. D----;" the "charming wife +of Mr. D----;" or in some like style of reference. At last, coupled +with one of these allusions, was an intimation that "it might be +well if some discreet friend would whisper in the lady's ear that +she was a little too intimate with men of doubtful reputation; +particularly in the absence of her husband." + +This paragraph was pointed out to me by one of my patients. I read +it with a throb of pain. A little while afterwards I passed Mr. +Floyd and Mr. Dewey in the street. They were walking rapidly, and +conversing in an excited manner. I saw them take the direction of +the depot. + +"Here is trouble!" I said, sighing to myself. "Trouble that gold +cannot gild, nor the sparkle of diamonds hide. Alas! alas! that a +human soul, in which was so fair a promise, should get so far +astray!" + +I met Mr. Floyd half an hour later. His face was pale and troubled, +and his eyes upon the ground. He did not see me--or care to see +me--and so we passed without recognition. + +Before night the little warning sentence, written by the Saratoga +correspondent, was running from lip to lip all over S----. Some +pitied, some blamed, and not a few were glad in their hearts of the +disgrace; for Mrs. Dewey had so carried herself among us as to +destroy all friendly feeling. + +There was an expectant pause for several days. Then it was noised +through the town that Mr. Dewey had returned, bringing his wife home +with him. I met him in the street on the day after. There was a +heavy cloud on his brow. Various rumors were afloat. One was--it +came from a person just arrived from Saratoga--that Mr. Dewey +surprised his wife in a moonlight walk with a young man for whom he +had no particular fancy, and under such lover-like relations, that +he took the liberty of caning the gentleman on the spot. Great +excitement followed. The young man resisted--Mrs. Dewey screamed in +terror--people flocked to the place--and mortifying exposure +followed. This story was in part corroborated by the following +paragraph in the Herald's Saratoga correspondence: + +"We had a spicy scene, a little out of the regular performance, last +evening; no less than the caning of a New York sprig of fashion, who +made himself rather more agreeable to a certain married lady who +dashes about here in a queenly way than was agreeable to her +husband. The affair was hushed up. This morning I missed the lady +from her usual place at the breakfast-table. Later in the day I +learned that her husband had taken her home. If he'll accept my +advice, he will keep her there." + +"Poor Mrs. Floyd!" It was the mother's deep sorrow and humiliation +that touched the heart of my Constance when this disgraceful +exposure reached her. "She has worn to me a troubled look for this +long while," she added. "The handsome new house which the Squire +built, and into which they moved last year, has not, with all its +elegant accompaniments, made her any more cheerful than she was +before. Mrs. Dean told me that her sister was very much opposed to +leaving her old home; but the Squire has grown rich so fast that he +must have everything in the external to correspond with his improved +circumstances. Ah me! If, with riches, troubles so deep must come, +give me poverty as a blessing." + +A week passed, and no one that I happened to meet knew, certainly, +whether Mrs. Dewey was at home or not. Then she suddenly made her +appearance riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as +self-assured as of old. + +"That was a strange story about Mrs. Dewey," said I to a lady whom I +was visiting professionally. I knew her to be of Mrs. Dewey's set. +Don't smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a +fashionable "set," in S----, and Mrs. Dewey was the leader. + +The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked +knowing and mysterious. I had expected this, for I knew my subject +very well. + +"You were at Saratoga," I added; "and must know whether rumor has +exaggerated her conduct." + +"Well, Doctor," said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on +the air of one who spoke in confidence. "I must say that our friend +was not as discreet as she might have been. Nothing wrong--that is, +criminal--of course. But the truth is, she is too fond of +admiration, and encourages the attentions of young men a great deal +more than is discreet for any married woman." + +"There was an actual rencontre between Mr. Dewey and a person he +thought too familiar with his wife?" said I. + +"Oh, yes. Why, it was in the newspapers!" + +"How was it made up between the parties?" + +"It isn't made up at all, I believe; There's been some talk of a +duel." + +"A sad affair," said I. "How could Mrs. Dewey have been so +thoughtless?" + +"She isn't prudent, by any means," answered this intimate friend. "I +often look at the way she conducts herself at public places, and +wonder at her folly." + +"Folly, indeed, if her conduct strikes at the root of domestic +happiness." + +The lady shook her head in a quiet, meaning way. + +I waited for her to put her thoughts into words, which she did in a +few moments after this fashion: + +"There's not much domestic happiness to spoil, Doctor, so far as I +can see. I don't think she cares a farthing for her husband; and he +seems to have his mind so full of grand business schemes as to have +no place left for the image of his wife. At least, so I read him." + +"How has this matter affected their relation one to the other?" + +"I have not seen them together since her return, and therefore +cannot speak from actual observation," she replied. + +There was nothing very definite in all this, yet it revealed such an +utter abandonment of life's best hopes--such a desolation of love's +pleasant land--such a dark future for one who might have been so +nobly blest in a true marriage union, that I turned from the theme +with a sad heart. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + + + +Almost daily, while the pleasant fall weather lasted, did I meet the +handsome carriage of Mrs. Dewey; but I noticed that she went less +through the town, and oftener out into the country. And I also +noticed that she rode alone more frequently than she had been +accustomed to do. Formerly, one fashionable friend or another, who +felt it to be an honor to sit in the carriage of Mrs. Dewey, was +generally to be seen in her company when she went abroad. Now, the +cases were exceptional. I also noticed a gathering shade of trouble +on her face. + +The fact was, opinion had commenced setting against her. The unhappy +affair at Saratoga was not allowed to sleep in the public mind of +S----. It was conned over, magnified, distorted, and added to, until +it assumed most discreditable proportions; and ladies who respected +themselves began to question whether it was altogether reputable to +be known as her intimate friends. The less scrupulous felt the force +of example as set by these, and began receding also. In a large +city, like New York, the defection would only have been partial; for +there, one can be included in many fashionable circles, while only a +few of them may be penetrated by a defaming rumor. But in a small +town like S----, the case is different. + +I was surprised when I comprehended the meaning of this apparent +isolation of herself by Mrs. Dewey, and saw, in progress, the ban of +social ostracism. While I pitied the victim, I was glad that we had +virtue enough, even among our weak-minded votaries of fashion, to +stamp with disapproval the conduct of which she had been guilty. + +"I saw Mrs. Dewey this morning," said my wife, one day, late in +November. "She was in at Howard's making some purchases." + +"Did you speak to her?" + +"Yes, we passed a few words. How much she has changed!" + +"For the worse?" + +"Yes. She appears five years older than she did last summer, and has +such a sad, disappointed look, that I could not help pitying her +from my heart." + +"There are few who need your pity more, Constance. I think she must +be wretched almost beyond endurance. So young, and the goblet which +held the shine of her life broken, and all its precious contents +spilled in the thirsty sand at her feet. Every one seems to have +receded from her." + +"The common sentiment is against her; and yet, I am of those who +never believed her any thing worse than indiscreet." + +"Her indiscretion was in itself a heinous offence against good +morals," said I; "and while she has my compassion, I have no wish +to see a different course of treatment pursued towards her." + +"I haven't much faith in the soundness of this common sentiment +against her," replied Constance. "There is in it some +self-righteousness, a good deal of pretended horror at her conduct, +but very little real virtuous indignation. It is my opinion that +eight out of ten of her old fashionable friends would be just as +intimate with her as ever, though they knew all about the affair at +Saratoga, if they only were in the secret. It is in order to stand +well with the world that they lift their hands in pretended holy +horror." + +"We cannot expect people to act from any higher principles than they +possess," said I; "and it is something gained to good morals, when +even those who are corrupt in heart affect to be shocked at +departures from virtue in their friends." + +"Yes, I can see that. Still, when I look beneath the surface, I feel +that, so far as the motives are concerned, a wrong has been done; +and my soul stirs with a feeling of pity towards Mrs. Dewey, and +indignation against her heartless friends. Do you know, dear, that +since I met her this morning, I have had serious thoughts of calling +upon her?" + +"You!" + +Constance gave me one of her placid smiles in answer to my surprised +ejaculation. + +"Yes; why not?" + +"What will people say?" + +"I can tell you what they will not say," she replied, + +"Well?" + +"They will not say, as they do of her, that of all men, I care least +for my husband." + +"I am not afraid of their saying that; but--" + +I was a little bewildered by this unexpected thought on the part of +my wife, and did not at first see the matter clear. + +"She has held herself very high, and quite aloof from many of her +old friends," Constance resumed. "While this was the case, I have +not cared to intrude upon her; although she has been kind and polite +to me whenever we happened to meet. Now, when the summer friends who +courted her are dropping away like autumn leaves, a true friend may +draw near and help her in the trial through which she is passing." + +"Right, Constance! right!" said I, warmly. "Your clearer eyes have +gone down below, the surface. Oh, yes; call upon her, and be her +true friend, if she will permit you to come near enough. There can +be no loss to you; there may be great gain to her. Was there any +thing in her manner that encouraged you to approach?" + +"I think so. It was this, no doubt, that stirred the suggestion in +my mind." + +Constance waited a day or two, pondering the matter, and then made a +call at the Allen House. + +"How were you received?" I asked, on meeting her. + +"Kindly," she said. + +"But with indifference?" + +"No. Mrs. Dewey was surprised, I thought, but evidently pleased." + +"How long did you stay?" + +"Only for a short time." + +"What did you talk about?" + +"Scarcely any thing beyond the common-place topics that come up on +formal visits. But I penetrated deep enough into her mind to +discover the 'aching void' there, which she has been so vainly +endeavoring to fill. I do not think she meant to let me see this +abyss of wretchedness; but her efforts to hide it were in vain. +Unhappy one! She has been seeking to quench an immortal thirst at +broken cisterns which can hold no water." + +"Can you do her any good, Constance?" I asked. + +"If we would do good, we must put ourselves in the way," she +replied. "Nothing is gained by standing afar off." + +"Then you mean to call upon her again?" + +"She held my hand at parting, with such an earnest pressure, and +looked at me so kindly when she said, 'Your visit has been very +pleasant,' that I saw the way plain before me." + +"You will wait until she returns your call?" + +"I cannot say. It will depend upon the way things shape themselves +in my mind. If I can do her good, I shall not stand upon etiquette." + +As I came in sight of my modest little home a few days afterwards, I +saw the stylish carriage of Mrs. Dewey dash away from my door, +taking a direction opposite to that by which I was approaching. + +"How are the mighty fallen!" It was hardly a good spirit by whom +this thought was quickened, for I was conscious of something like a +feeling of triumph. With an effort I repressed the ungenerous state +of mind. + +"So your call has been returned," said I, on entering our sitting +room. + +"Yes. How did you know?" Constance looked up, smiling, but curious. + +"I saw Mrs. Dewey's carriage leave our door as I turned into the +street. Did she come in, or only leave her card?" + +"She came in, and sat for half an hour." + +"And made herself very agreeable,--was patronizing, and all that?" + +"No--nothing of the kind suggested by your words." And Constance +looked at me reproachfully. "She was, on the contrary, quiet, +subdued, and womanly. I called to see her, with the manner of one +who had about her no consciousness of inferiority; and she returned +the call, without a sign that I could regard as offensive." + +"It is well," I answered, coming back into my better state. "If true +friends can take the place of false friends, who left her the moment +a shadow fell upon her good name, then the occasion of blame may +pave the way to life instead of ruin. There must be remains of early +and better states covered up and hidden away in her soul, but not +lost; and by means of these she may be saved--yet, I fear, that only +through deep suffering will the overlying accretions of folly be +broken away." + +"She is in the hands of one to whom all spirits are precious," said +Constance, meekly; "and if we can aid in His good work of +restoration and salvation, our reward shall be great." + +After the lapse of a week, Constance called again upon Mrs. Dewey. +She found her in a very unhappy state of mind, and failed, almost +entirely, in her efforts to throw a few sunbeams across the shadow +by which she was environed. Her reception was neither cold nor +cordial. + +"I think," she said, "that my visit was untimely. Some recent +occurrence had, probably, disturbed her mind so deeply; that she was +not able to rise above the depression that followed. I noticed a +bitterness of feeling about her that was not apparent on the +occasion of my first call; and a hardness of manner and sentiment, +that indicated a condition of mental suffering having its origin in +a sense of wrong. Mr. Dewey passed through the hall, and went out a +few minutes after I entered the house, and before his wife joined me +in the parlor. It may have been fancy; but I thought, while I sat +there awaiting her appearance, that I heard angry words in the room +above. The heavy tread of a man's foot was there; but the sound +ceased all at once--so did the voices. A little while afterwards Mr. +Dewey came down stairs, and went out, as I have said. Some minutes +passed before I heard the rustle of Mrs. Dewey's garments. There was +the air of one disturbed and ill at ease about her, when she +entered; and though she made an effort to seem pleased, all was +forced work. Poor woman! The path she selected to walk in through +the world has proved rough and thorny, I fear, beyond any thing +dreamed of in her young imagination." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + + + +Weeks passed after this second visit to the Allen House, but the +call was not returned by Mrs. Dewey. We talked the matter over, +occasionally, and concluded that, for some reason best known to +herself, the friendly overtures of Constance were not agreeable to +the lady. She was not often seen abroad, and when she did appear, +the closed windows of her carriage usually hid her face from careful +observation. + +Of late, Mr. Dewey was away from S----more than usual, business +connected with the firm of which he was a member requiring his +frequent presence in New York. He did not remain absent over two or +three days at a time. + +Nearly opposite to where I resided lived Mr. Joshua Kling, the +Cashier of the new Clinton Bank. He and Mr. Dewey seemed to be on +particularly friendly terms. Often I noticed the visits of Mr. Dewey +to the Cashier's house after bank hours, and many times in paying +evening calls would I meet the two gentlemen, arm in arm, engaged in +close conversation. + +It was pretty generally understood in S----that the Clinton Bank was +in the hands or parties in New York, and that a large proportion of +the discounts made were of paper bearing the endorsement of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co., which was passed by the directors as the +legitimate business paper received by that house in its extensive +business operations; or of paper drawn to the order of John Floyd & +Co., given in payment of goods manufactured at the mills in S----. +It was also generally conceded that as, through their partner, Mr. +Dewey, this firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., had invested a large +amount of capital in S----, and by their liberality and enterprise +greatly benefited the town, they were entitled to all the favors it +was in the power of the bank to give; more particularly as the firm +was one of great wealth--"solid as gold"--and the interests of the +stockholders would, therefore, be best served by keeping the line of +discount mainly in so safe a channel. + +Now and then a disappointed storekeeper, whose small offerings were +thrown out, would inveigh bitterly against the directors, calling +hard names, and prophesying "a grand explosion one of these days;" +but these invectives and predictions hardly ever found a repetition +beyond the narrow limits of his place of business. + +And so the splendid schemes of Ralph Dewey and Company went on +prospering, while he grew daily in self-importance, and in offensive +superciliousness toward men from whom he had nothing to expect. In +my own case I had little to complain of, as my contact with him was +generally professional, and under circumstances that caused a +natural deference to my skill as a physician. + +Nothing out of the ordinary range of things transpired until towards +Christmas, when my wife received a note from Mrs. Dewey, asking her +as a special favor to call at the Allen House. She was there in half +an hour after the note came to hand. + +I was at home when she returned, and saw the moment I looked into +her face that she had been the witness of something that had moved +her deeply. + +"Is anything wrong with Mrs. Dewey?" I asked. + +"Yes." Her countenance took on a more serious aspect. + +"In what respect?" + +"The story cannot be told in a sentence. I received a note from her +as you are aware. Its earnest brevity forewarned me that the call +involved something of serious import; and I was not mistaken in this +conclusion. On calling, and asking for Mrs. Dewey, I noticed an air +of irresolution about the servant. 'Mrs. Dewey is not well,' she +said, 'and I hardly think can see company to-day.' + +"'She is not ill, I hope?' said I. + +"'No, ma'am; not ill exactly, but--' and she hesitated and looked +embarrassed. + +"'She will see me,' I spoke confidently. 'Take her my name, and I +will wait here in the parlor.' + +"In a few minutes the girl returned and asked me to walk up stairs. +I followed her to Mrs. Dewey's room. She tapped lightly on the door, +which was opened. I passed in, and found myself alone with Delia. +She grasped my arm tightly as she shut the door and locked it, +saying as she did so, in a voice so altered from her usual tone, +that it sounded strangely in my ears-- + +"'Thank you, my friend, for coming so soon. I am in deep trouble, +and need a counselor as well as a comforter. I can trust you for +both.' + +"I drew my arm around her, so that by act I could give more than the +assurance of words, and walked from the door with her to a lounge +between the windows, where we sat down. Her face had a shrunken +aspect, like the face of one who had been sick; and it showed also +the marks of great suffering. + +"'You may trust me as your own sister, Delia,' said I, 'and if in my +power to counsel or to comfort, both will be freely accorded.' + +"I called her Delia, instead of Mrs. Dewey; not from design, but +because the old name by which I had known her was first on my lips. + +"I thought there was a sudden lifting of her eyes as I pronounced +this name. The effect, if any followed, was not to repel, but to +draw her closer. + +"'I am standing,' she said, speaking slowly and solemnly, 'at the +edge of a deep abyss, my way hedged up on both sides, and enemies +coming on behind. I have not strength to spring over; and to fall is +destruction. In my weakness and despair, I turn to you for help. If +there is help in any mortal arm, something tells me it is in yours.' + +"She did not weep, nor show strong emotion. But her face was almost +colorless, and presented an image of woe such as never met my eyes, +except in pictures. + +"'You have heard, no doubt,' she went on, 'some of the stories to my +discredit which have been circulated in S----. That I was gay and +imprudent at Saratoga, cannot be denied--gay and imprudent as are +too many fashionable women, under the exciting allurements of the +place. Little fond flirtations with gentlemen made up a part of our +pastime there. But as for sin--it was not in my thoughts!' She said +this with an emphasis that assured me of its truth. 'A mere life of +fashionable pleasure is a great exhauster of resources. One tires of +this excitement and of that, pushing them aside, as a child does an +old or broken toy, to grasp after something new. It is not +surprising, therefore, that mere pleasure-seeking women forget at +times the just proprieties of life, and, before they are aware of +danger, find themselves in very equivocal positions. This was simply +my case. Nothing more--nothing less.' + +"She paused and looked earnestly into my face, to see if I credited +this assertion. + +"'I have never believed any thing else,' said I. + +"A faint, sad smile flitted across her wan face. + +"'The consequences of this error on my part,' she went on, 'threaten +to be of the most disastrous kind. My husband has ever since +conducted himself towards me as if I were a guilty and disgraced +thing. We occupy separate apartments; and though we sit together at +the same table, words rarely pass between us. Occasionally he comes +home under the influence of wine, and then his abuse of me is +fearful to think of. If any thing could waken a thoughtless creature +sleeping on enchanted ground, it was this.' + +"'There has never been anything more than the semblance of love +between us,' she continued. 'The more intimately I came to know him, +after our marriage, the more did my soul separate itself from him, +until the antipodes were not farther apart than we. So we lived on; +I seeking a poor compensation in fashionable emulations and social +triumphs; and he in grand business enterprises--castles in the air +perhaps. Living thus, we have come to this point in our journey; and +now the crisis has arrived!' + +"She paused. + +"' What crisis?' I asked. + +"'He demands a separation.' Her voice choked--'a divorce--' + +"'On what ground?' + +"'On legal ground.' She bent down, covered her face, and uttered a +groan so full of mental anguish, that I almost shuddered as the +sound penetrated my ears. + +"'I am to remain passive,' she resumed, while he charges me before +the proper court, with infidelity, and gains a divorce through +failure on my part to stand forth and defend myself. This, or a +public trial of the case, at which he pledges himself to have +witnesses who will prove me criminal, is my dreadful alternative. If +he gains a divorce quietly on the charge of infidelity, I am wronged +and disgraced; and if successful in a public trial, through perjured +witnesses, the wrong and disgrace will be more terrible. Oh, my +friend! pity and counsel me.' + +"'There is one,' said I, 'better able to stand your friend in a +crisis like this than I am.' + +"'Who?' She looked up anxiously. + +"'Your father.' + +"A shadow fell over her face, and she answered mournfully, + +"'Even he is against me. How it is I cannot tell; but my husband +seems to have my father completely under his influence.' + +"'Your mother?' I suggested. + +"'Can only weep with me. I have no adviser, and my heart beats so +wildly all the time, that thought confuses itself whenever it makes +an effort to see the right direction. Fear of a public trial +suggests passive endurance of wrong on my part; but an innate sense +of justice cries out against this course, and urges me to +resistance.' + +"'If you are innocent,' said I, firmly, 'in the name and strength of +innocence defend yourself! All that a woman holds dearest is at +stake. If they drive you to this great extremity, do not shrink from +the trial.' + +"'But what hope have I in such a trial if false witnesses come up +against me?' + +"'God and justice are stronger than all the powers of evil,' said I. + +"'They might be, in your case,' she answered, mournfully; 'for you +have made God your friend, and justice your strong tower. But +I--what have I to hope for in God? He has not been in all my +thoughts; and now will He not mock at my calamity?' + +"'No--no, my unhappy friend!' I answered. 'He never turns from any; +it is we who turn from Him. His tender mercy is over all His works. +All human souls are alike precious in His eyes. If you trust in Him, +you need not fear your bitterest enemies.' + +"'How shall I trust in him?' + +"She bent towards me eagerly. + +"'In the simple work of doing right,' said I. + +"'Doing right?' + +"She did not clearly understand me. + +"Do you think it would be right to let a charge of crime lie, +unrepelled, against you; a great crime, such as is +alleged--destroying your good name, and throwing a shadow of +disgrace over your children!' + +"'No,' was her unhesitating reply. + +"'Then it would be wrong for you to suffer a divorce to issue on the +ground of infidelity, without a defence of yourself by every legal +means in your power. Do right, then, in so defending yourself, and +trust in God for the result.' + +"I shudder at the bare thought of a public trial,' she answered. + +"'Don't think of anything but right action, said I. If you would +have the Hosts of Heaven on your side, give them power by doing the +right; and they will surely achieve for you the victory over all +your enemies. Have any steps been taken by Mr. Dewey?' + +"'I fear so.' + +"'How long is it since your husband entertained this purpose?' + +"'I think it has been growing in his mind ever since that unhappy +affair at Saratoga.' + +"As she said this, her thoughts seemed to turn aside upon something +else, and she sat looking down upon the floor in a state of deep +abstraction. At last, taking a long breath, she looked up, and said +with trembling lips and a husky voice, + +"'I have something more to tell you. There is another aspect to this +miserable affair.' + +"And she drew forth a crumpled letter. + +"'I found this, sealed, and directed, lying on the floor of my +husband's room, two days ago. It is in his hand writing; addressed +to a lady in New York, and signed R. D. I will read you its +contents.' And she unfolded the letter, and read: + +"'My dearest Caroline,' it began; and then went on for a few +paragraphs, in a lover-like strain; after which, the divorce from +the writer's wife was referred to as a thing of speedy attainment, +there being little fear of opposition on her part, as he had given +her to understand that he had witnesses ready to prove her criminal +conduct; if she dared to resist his will in the matter. 'A few +months of patient waiting, dearest Caroline,' was the concluding +sentence, 'and then for that happy consummation we have so long +desired.' + +"'What do you think of that?' asked poor Delia, looking almost +wildly into my face. + +"'I think,' said I, 'that you hold in your hands the means of +safety. Your husband will not dare to force you into a defensive +position, when he learns that you have this document in your +possession. It would tell strongly against him and his perjured +witnesses if produced in court. Then take heart, my friend. This +worst evil that you dreaded will not come to pass. If a divorce is +granted, it will have to be on some different allegation.' + +"She grasped my hand, and said, 'Oh, do you think so? Do you think +so?'" + +"'I am sure of it,' was my confident answer. 'Sure of it. Why the +man would only damage his cause, and disgrace himself, by venturing +into a trial with a witness like this against him.'" + +"'Oh, bless you for such confidently assuring words!' and the poor +creature threw herself forward, and laid her face upon my bosom. For +the first time she wept, and for a season, oh how wildly! You will +not wonder that my tears fell almost as fast as hers. + +"'I turned in my despair to you,' she said, on growing calm, 'you +whom I loved, and almost revered, in the earlier and better days of +my life, and my heart tells me that I have not turned in vain. Into +the darkness that surrounded me like the pall of death, a little +light has already penetrated.'" + +"May it shine unto the perfect day!" I answered fervently. + +"And, dear husband! it will shine," said Constance, a glow of +enthusiasm lighting up her face, and giving it a new beauty, "even +unto the perfect day! Not the perfect day of earthly bliss--for I +think the sun of that day has gone down never to rise again for +her--but the perfect day of that higher life, which to many comes +not, except through the gates of tribulation." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + + + +I was shocked and distressed by the painful revelation which Mrs. +Dewey had made to Constance. A sadder history in real life I had +never heard. + +A few days after this memorable visit to the Allen House, a note was +received by my wife, containing this single word, "_Come_," and +signed _Delia_. + +"Any change in the aspect of affairs?" I inquired of Constance on +her return. + +"Yes. Mrs. Dewey has received notice, in due form, of her husband's +application for a divorce." + +"What has she done?" + +"Nothing yet. It was to ask my advice as to her best course that she +sent for me." + +"And what advice did you give her?" + +"I gave none. First, I must consult you." + +I shook my head and replied, + +"It will not do for me to be mixed up in this affair, Constance." + +Worldly prudence spoke there. + +My wife laid her hand upon my arm, and looking calmly in my face, +said, + +"The right way is always a safe way." + +"Granted." + +"It will be right for you to give such advice as your judgment +dictates, and therefore safe. I do not know much about law matters, +but it occurs to me that her first step should be the employment of +counsel." + +"Is her father going to stand wholly aloof?" I inquired. + +"Yes, if she be resolved to defend herself in open court. He will +not sanction a course that involves so much disgrace of herself and +family." + +"Has she shown him the letter you saw?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +"I think she is afraid to let it go out of her hands." + +"She might trust it with her father, surely," said I. + +"Her father has been very hard with her; and seems to take the worst +for granted. He evidently believes that it is in the power of Dewey +to prove her guilty; and that if she makes any opposition to his +application for a divorce, he will hold her up disgraced before the +world." + +"This letter might open his eyes." + +"The letter is no defence of her; only a witness against him. It +does not prove her innocence. If it did, then it would turn toward +her a father's averted face. In court its effect will be to throw +doubt upon the sincerity of her husband's motives, and to show that +he had a reason, back of alleged infidelity, for wishing to be +divorced from his wife." + +"I declare, Constance!" said I, looking at my wife in surprise, "you +have taken upon yourself a new character. I think the case is safe +in your hands, and that Mrs. Dewey wants no more judicious friend. +If you were a man, you might conduct the defence for her to a +successful issue." + +"I am not a man, and, therefore, I come to a man," she replied, "and +ask the aid of his judgment. I go by a very straight road to +conclusions; but I want the light of your reason upon these +conclusions." + +"I am not a lawyer as you are aware, Constance--only a doctor." + +"You are a man with a heart and common sense," she answered, with +just a little shade of rebuke in her tones, "and as God has put in +your way a wretched human soul that may be lost, unless you stretch +forth a saving hand, is there any room for question as to duty? +There is none, my husband! Squire Floyd believes his daughter +guilty; and while he rests in this conclusion, he will not aid her +in anything that points to exposure and disgrace. She must, +therefore, if a vigorous defence is undertaken, look elsewhere for +aid and comfort." + +I began to see the matter a little clearer. + +"Mr. Wallingford is the best man I know." + +"Mr. Wallingford!" I thought Constance would have looked me through. + +"Mr. Wallingford!" she repeated, still gazing steadily into my face. +"Are you jesting?" + +"No," I replied calmly. "In a case that involves so much, she wants +a wise and good defender; and I do not know of any man upon whom she +could so thoroughly rely." + +Constance dropped her eyes to the floor. + +"It would not do," she said, after some moments. + +"Why?" + +"Their former relation to each other precludes its possibility." + +"But, you must remember, Constance, that Delia never knew how deeply +he was once attached to her." + +"She knows that he offered himself." + +"And that, in a very short time afterwards, he met her with as much +apparent indifference as if she had never been to him more than a +pleasant acquaintance. Of the struggle through which he passed, in +the work of obliterating her image from his mind, she knows +nothing." + +"But he knows it," objected Constance. + +"And what does that signify? Will he defend her less skillfully on +this account? Rather will he not feel a stronger interest in the +case?" + +"I do not think that she will employ him to defend her," said +Constance. "I would not, were the case mine." + +"Womanly pride spoke there, Constance." + +"Or rather say a manly lack of perception in your case." + +"Perception of what?" + +"Of the fitness of things," she answered. + +"That is just what I do see," I returned. "There is no man in +S----better fitted for conducting this case than Mr. Wallingford." + +"She will never place it in his hands; you may take a woman's word +for that," said my wife confidently. "Of all living men he is the +last one to whom she could talk of the humiliating particulars +involved in a case like this." + +"Suppose you suggest his name to her. Twelve years of such a life as +she has led may have almost obliterated the memory of that passage +in her life." + +"Don't believe it. A woman never forgets a passage like that; +particularly when the events of every passing day but serve to +remind her of the error she once committed." + +"I don't know what else to advise," said I. "She ought to have a +good and discreet man to represent her, or all may be lost." + +"Would you have any objection to confer with Mr. Wallingford on the +subject in a private, confidential way?" + +"None in the world," I replied. + +"Will you see him at once?" The interest of Constance was too +strongly excited to brook delay. + +"Yes, immediately." + +And putting on my overcoat I went to the office of Mr. Wallingford. +I found him alone, and at once laid the whole case before +him--relating, with particularity, all that had occurred between my +wife and Mrs. Dewey. He listened with deep and pitying attention; +and when I was through, expressed his opinion of Dewey in very +strong language. + +"And now what is to be done?" I asked, going at once to the vital +question. + +"Your wife is right," he answered. "I can hardly become her +advocate. It would involve humiliation on her part too deep to be +borne. But my aid she shall have to the fullest extent; and it will +be strange if I do not thwart his wicked scheme." + +"How will you aid her?" + +"Through her right attorney, if my advice as to the choice be +followed. You know James Orton?" + +"Yes." + +"He is a young man to be relied upon. Let Mrs. Dewey put the case in +his hands. If she does so, it will be, virtually, in mine." + +"Enough, Mr. Wallingford," said I. "It looks more hopeful for our +poor unhappy friend, against whom even her own flesh and blood have +turned." + +When I gave Constance the result of my interview with Mr. +Wallingford, she was quite elated at the prospect of securing his +most valuable aid for Mrs. Dewey. Orton was young, and had been +practising at the bar for only a couple of years. Up to this time he +had not appeared in any case of leading importance; and had, +therefore, no established reputation. Our fear was that Mrs. Dewey +might not be willing to place her case in such inexperienced hands. +In order to have the matter settled with as little delay as +possible, Constance paid an early visit to the Allen House, and +suggested Mr. Orton as counsel. Mrs. Dewey had not even heard his +name; but, after being assured that I had the fullest confidence in +him, and particularly advised his employment, she consented to +accept of his services. + +Their first interview was arranged to take place at my house, and in +the presence of my wife, when the notice Mrs. Dewey had received on +the institution of proceedings, was placed in the young lawyer's +hands, and some conversation had as to the basis and tenor of an +answer. A second interview took place on the day following, at which +Mrs. Dewey gave a full statement of the affair at Saratoga, and +asserted her innocence in the most solemn and impressive manner. The +letter from her husband to the lady in New York, was produced, and +at the request of Mr. Orton, given into his possession. + +The answer to Mr. Dewey's application for a divorce was drawn up by +Mr. Wallingford, who entered with great earnestness into the matter. +It was filed in court within a week after notice of the application +was received. This was altogether unexpected by the husband, who, on +becoming aware of the fact, lost all decent control of himself, and +ordered his wretched wife to leave his house. This, however, she +refused to do. Then she had her father's angry opposition to brave. +But she remained firm. + +"He will cover you with infamy, if you dare to persevere in this mad +opposition," he said. And she answered-- + +"The infamy may recoil upon his own head. I am innocent--I will not +be such a traitor to virtue as to let silence declare me guilty." + +There was a pause, now, for a few weeks. The unhappy state of +affairs at the Allen House made it hardly proper for my wife to +continue her visits there, and Mrs. Dewey did not venture to call +upon her. The trial of the case would not come up for some two or +three months, and both parties were waiting, in stern resolution, +for the approaching contest. + +One day I received a message from Mrs. Dewey, desiring me to call +and see two of her children who were sick. On visiting them--the two +youngest--I found them seriously ill, with symptoms so like +scarletina, that I had little question in my mind as to the +character of the disease from which they were suffering. My second +visit confirmed these fears. + +"It is scarlet fever?" said Mrs. Dewey, looking at me calmly, as I +moved from the bed-side after a careful examination of the two +little ones. + +I merely answered-- + +"Yes." + +There was no change in her countenance. + +"They are both very ill." + +She spoke with a slow deliberateness, that was unusual to her. + +"They are sick children," said I. + +"Sick, it may be, unto death." + +There was no emotion in her voice. + +I looked at her without replying. + +"I can see them die, Doctor, if that must be." + +Oh, that icy coldness of manner, how it chilled me! + +"No hand but mine shall tend them now, Doctor. They have been long +enough in the care of others--neglected--almost forgotten--by their +unworthy mother. But in this painful extremity I will be near them. +I come back to the post of duty, even at this late hour, and all +that is left for me, that will I do." + +I was deeply touched by her words and manner. + +The latter softened a little as she uttered the closing sentence. + +"You look at the darkest side," I answered. "With God are the issues +of life. He calls us, our children, or our friends, in His own good +time. We cannot tell how any sickness will terminate; and hope for +the best is always our truest state." + +"I hope for the best," she replied; but with something equivocal in +her voice. + +"The best is life," I said, scarcely reflecting upon my words. + +"Not always," she returned, still speaking calmly. "Death is often +the highest blessing that God can give. It will be so in the present +case." + +"Madam!" + +My tone of surprise did not move her. + +"It is simply true, Doctor," she made answer. "As things are now, +and as they promise to be in the future, the safest place for these +helpless innocents is in Heaven; and I feel that their best Friend +is about to remove them there through the door of sickness." + +I could not bear to hear her talk in this way. It sent cold chills +through me. So I changed the subject. + +On the next day, all the symptoms were unfavorable. Mrs. Dewey was +calm as when I last saw her; but it was plain from her appearance, +that she had taken little if any rest. Her manner towards the sick +babes was full of tenderness; but there was no betrayal of weakness +or distress in view of a fatal termination. She made no anxious +inquiries, such as are pressed on physicians in cases of dangerous +illness; but received my directions, and promised to give them a +careful observance, with a self-possession that showed not a sign of +wavering strength. + +I was touched by all this. How intense must have been the suffering +that could so benumb the heart!--that could prepare a mother to sit +by the couch of her sick babes, and be willing to see them die! I +have witnessed many sad scenes in professional experience; but none +so sad as this. + +Steadily did the destroyer keep on with his work. There were none of +those flattering changes that sometimes cheat us into hopes of +recovery, but a regular daily accumulation of the most unfavorable +symptoms. At the end of a week, I gave up all hope of saving the +children, and made no more vain attempts to control a disease that +had gone on from tie beginning, steadily breaking away the +foundations of life. To diminish the suffering of my little +patients, and make their passage from earth to Heaven as easy as +possible, was now my only care. + +On the mother's part, there was no sign of wavering. Patiently, +tenderly, faithfully did she minister to her little ones, night and +day. No lassitude or weariness appeared, though her face, which grew +paler and thinner every day, told the story of exhausting nature. +She continued in the same state of mind I have described; never for +an instant, as far as I could see, receding from a full consent to +their removal. + +One morning, in making my usually early call at the Allen House, I +saw, what I was not unprepared to see, a dark death sign on the +door. + +"All over?" I said to the servant who admitted me. + +"Yes, sir, all is over," she replied. + +"Both gone?" + +"Yes, sir, both." + +Tears were in her eyes. + +"When did they die?" + +"About midnight." + +"At the same time?" + +"Yes, sir. Dear little souls! They went together." + +"I will go up to see them," said I. + +And the girl showed me to the room in which they were laid. The door +was closed. I opened it, and stepped in softly. The room was +darkened; but light came in through a small opening in the curtains +at the top of the window, and fell in a narrow circle around the +spot where the bodies, already in their snowy grave clothes, were +laid. In a chair beside them sat the mother. She was alone with her +dead. I felt that I was an intruder upon a sorrow too deep for tears +or words; but it was too late to recede. So I moved forward and +stood by the bedside, looking down upon the two white little faces, +from which had passed every line of suffering. + +Mrs. Dewey neither stirred nor spoke, nor in any way gave token that +she was aware of my presence in the room. I stood for over a minute +looking upon the sweet images before me--for in them, death had put +on forms of beauty--and still there was no movement on the part of +Mrs. Dewey. Then, feeling that she was with One who could speak to +her heart by an inner way, better than I could speak through the +natural ear, I quietly receded and left the apartment. As my eyes +rested on her a moment, in closing the door, I saw that her form +remained as still as a statue. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + + + +An hour later, when Constance went to see Mrs. Dewey, she found her +in a state of unconsciousness, nature having at last given way. Not +long after I left the house, her mother, on entering the room where +the children were laid out, found her insensible, lying across the +bed, with her dead babes clasped in her arms. + +Mrs. Floyd sent word for me to come and see her daughter, as she +continued in a lethargic state. I found her like one in a deep +sleep, only her breathing was light, and her pulse very feeble, but +regular. She was out of the reach of my skill, and in the hands of +the Great Physician. I could only trust the cure to Him. No medicine +for the body would be of any avail here. I called again in the +afternoon; but found no change. How little was there in the pale, +pinched face that lay among the white pillows, to remind me of the +handsome, dashing Mrs. Dewey, of a year gone by! + +"What do you think of her, Doctor?" + +Mrs. Floyd put the question. The tone had in it something that made +me look narrowly into the speaker's face. My ears had not deceived +me. + +There was the wish in her heart that Delia might die! + +I was not surprised at this. And yet the revelation of such a state +of feeling, in so good and true a woman, as I had reason to know +Mrs. Floyd to be, made my heart bound with a throb of pain. + +Alas! alas! Into what unnatural conditions may not the mind fall, +through suffering that shuts out human hope! + +"Nature," said I, in answer to the question of Mrs. Floyd, "may be +only gathering up her powers after a long period of exhaustion. The +strife through which your daughter has passed--calmly passed to all +external seeming--has not been without a wasting of internal life. +How she kept on so evenly to the end, passes my comprehension. There +is not one woman in a thousand who could have so borne herself +through to the final act. It is meet that she should rest now." + +"If she were sleeping with her babes, happy would it be for her!" + +Tears fell over the face of Mrs. Floyd. + +"God knows what is best," I remarked. + +"She has nothing to live for in this world." A sob broke from its +repression, and heaved the mother's bosom. "O Doctor, if I saw the +death dews on her brow, I would not weep!" + +"Leave her, my dear friend," said I, "in the hands of Him who sees +deeper into the heart than it is possible for our eyes to penetrate. +Her feet have left the soft, flowery ways they trod for a time, and +turned into rough paths, where every footfall is upon sharp stones; +but it may be that a blessed land is smiling beyond, he has been +astray in the world, and God may only be leading her homeward by the +way of sorrow." + +Mrs. Floyd wept freely as I talked. + +"His will be done," she said, sobbing. + +"Your daughter," said I, taking the occasion to bear my testimony on +the favorable side, "has been wronged without question. She was +doubtless imprudent, but not sinful; and the present attempt to +disgrace her I regard as a cruel wrong. It will recoil, I trust, in +a way not dreamed of." + +"O Doctor, let me thank you for such words." + +And Mrs. Floyd caught my arm with an eager movement. + +"I speak soberly, madam, and from observation and reflection. And I +trust to see Delia live and triumph over her enemies." + +"Won't you talk with the Squire, Doctor?" She still grasped my arm. +"He will not hear a word from me in favor of Delia. Mr. Dewey has +completely blinded him." + +"Wait patiently, Mrs. Floyd," said I, in a tone of encouragement. +"Your daughter is not without friends. There are those upon her +side, who have the will and the power to defend her; and they will +defend her, I believe successfully." + +A sigh fluttered through the room, causing us both to turn quickly +towards the bed on which Mrs. Dewey was lying. Her lips were moving +slightly; but no change appeared on her death-like face. I laid my +fingers upon her wrist, and searched for her pulse. It was very low +and thread-like; but with more vitality than on the occasion of my +first visit to her in the morning. + +"The signs are favorable." + +Mrs. Floyd did not respond. She was looking at her daughter with an +expression of unutterable grief upon her countenance. + +I did not attempt to give medicine, but left unerring nature to do +her own work. + +Mrs. Dewey did not again look upon the faces of her dead children. +They were buried ere her mind awoke to any knowledge of passing +events. I was at the funeral, and closely observed her husband. He +appeared very sober, and shed some tears at the grave, when the +little coffins were lowered together into the earth. + +It was a week before Mrs. Dewey was clearly conscious of external +things. I visited her every day, watching, with deep interest, her +slow convalescence. It was plain, as her mind began to recover its +faculties, that the memory of a sad event had faded; and I was +anxious for the effect, when this painful remembrance was restored. + +One day I found her sitting up in her room. She smiled feebly as I +came in, and said: + +"Doctor, am I never going to get well? It seems like an age since I +became sick." + +"You are getting on finely," I answered, in a cheerful way, sitting +down by her and taking her hand, which was wasted and shadowy. + +"I don't know about that, Doctor," she said. + +"What makes me so weak? I've no more strength than a babe. And that +reminds me of a frightful dream I had." And her countenance changed. + +"A dream?" I queried. + +"Yes; I thought Aggy and Lu were both dead! I saw them laid out, +cold and white as statues, just as plainly as I see you now." + +She stopped suddenly, an expression of fear going over her +face--then looked at me in a strange, questioning way. + +"Doctor"--she leaned towards me, with lips apart, and eyes full of a +sudden, wild alarm. I laid my hand upon her, and said: + +"You have been very ill for some time, Mrs. Dewey, and are too weak +to bear excitement. Don't let mere dreams disturb you." + +"Dreams?" Her eyes fell from mine. "Dreams?" she repeated. "I feel +very weak, Doctor," was added, after a few moments. "Won't you +assist me to lie down?" + +And she made a movement to rise. I took her arm and supported her to +the bed, where she quietly composed herself, and turned her face +away, so as almost to hide it from my view. At this moment Mrs. +Floyd came in, and I withdrew, leaving them together. + +Memory had been restored. The accompanying shock was severe, but not +heavy enough seriously to retard her recovery, which went on slowly. +She still remained at the Allen House, rarely meeting her husband, +who now spent a large part of his time in New York. + +The period fixed for a trial of the case between them was fast +approaching. He continued resolute, and she did not waver from her +purpose to defend her good name. The deep interest I took in the +case, led me to see Mr. Wallingford often, and make inquiry as to +the evidence which could be produced in Mrs. Dewey's favor, and the +probable chances of an honorable result. We both favored a +settlement of the difficulty without a trial and its consequent +exposure, if that were possible. But how to prevent this was the +difficult question. Finally it was determined to make a copy of the +letter found by Mrs. Dewey, and enclose it to her husband, giving +him warning at the same time that the original would be produced at +the trial. + +Nothing was heard in response to this movement, until within a week +of the day on which the case was expected to come up, when Mr. +Dewey's lawyer called on Mr. Orton to know if it was still his +intention to meet them in open court and resist their application +for a divorce. On being assured that such was their purposes he +expressed some regret at the consequent damage to the lady's +reputation, as they had evidence against her of the most conclusive +character. Finally he wished to know whether, in case a new ground +were taken--one not touching the lady's good name--any opposition +would be made. Mr. Orton said that he would consult his client, and +answer the query with as little delay as practicable. + +Mrs. Dewey expressed a willingness to remain passive, provided no +allegations were made in the new bill that even remotely cast a +shadow upon her virtue + +But Mr. Wallingford, on taking the matter into further +consideration, advised a different course altogether--no less than +an application from the other side, on the ground of neglect, +ill-treatment, and constructive conjugal infidelity, based on the +important letter already referred to. Mrs. Dewey caught eagerly at +this suggestion, as soon as it was presented to her. If a divorce +were thus obtained, her vindication would be complete. + +The ranks of the enemy were thrown into confusion by this diversion. +Mr. Dewey was violent, and threatened most terrible consequences. +But when the time set for the case to come up arrived, he failed to +appear. + +It was from the other side that the next movement came. A divorce +was applied for on the part of Mrs. Dewey, in a bill carefully drawn +up by Mr. Wallingford. It asked not only for a legal separation from +her husband, but for alimony, and the possession of the two +remaining children. An answer was filed; but it was of so feeble a +character as to amount to scarcely anything in the way of +opposition. The chief argument was directed against the claim for +alimony. The result was as we had anticipated. In the following +spring a divorce was granted, and Mrs. Dewey, with her two children, +left the Allen House and returned to her father's. The maintenance +allowed by the court, was one thousand dollars a year for herself, +and five hundred a year for each of the children during their +minority. + +And so closed this exciting drama, begun in weakness, and ending in +hopeless disaster. Oh, a few years! How many broken hearts do they +close over? How many wrecks of goodly lives do they see scattered +among the breakers! + +The interposition of Mr. Wallingford, in this case, was so managed +as to keep him entirely out of sight, and Mrs. Dewey was never made +aware of the fact that he had rendered her a great service. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + + + +We did not see a great deal of Mr. Dewey in S----for some months +after this. I heard it casually remarked that he was traveling in +the South and West, for a part of the time, on business. The large +interests of his firm involved in the two mills, however, made his +presence necessary among us, and late in the fall he came back, and +remained through the winter residing at the Allen House. + +In the spring a rumor got afloat that Mr. Dewey was soon to be +married. A lady in New York was mentioned; the same, it was said, to +whom the letter found by Mrs. Dewey was addressed. A few signs of +renovation at the Allen House gave confirmation of this rumor, which +at length assumed a more positive shape. + +The intimacy between Mrs. Wallingford and Constance, had grown into +a close interior friendship, and scarcely a week passed that an +evening was not spent by them together, sometimes at our house, and +sometimes at Ivy Cottage. Mr. Wallingford had developed into a man +after my own heart; and so I shared, when professional engagements +allowed, in the enjoyment of these pleasant seasons. + +One evening Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford came round to spend an hour +with us. I was happily at leisure. Conversation naturally falls into +the current of passing events, and on this occasion, the approaching +marriage of Mr. Dewey came naturally into the field of topics. This +led to a review of the many strange circumstances connected with +Mrs. Wallingford's presence in S----, and naturally, to an inquiry +from my wife as to the present position of the property left by +Captain Allen. + +"What about this young Garcia?" said Constance, addressing Mr. +Wallingford. "I haven't heard of him for some time." + +"He is at school yet, I believe," replied Mr. Wallingford, not +showing much interest in the matter. + +"He must be nearly of age," said I. + +"About twenty, if his years were correctly given." + +"He will come into the possession of a handsome property," I +remarked. + +"Yes, if it can be found by the time he is ready to receive it." + +"Can be found! I don't comprehend you, Mr. Wallingford? Do you mean +to question the integrity of the men who are executors to the +estate?" + +"No. But, they have embarked in the same vessel with an unscrupulous +villain--so I regard Ralph Dewey--and have, as far as I can see, +given the rudder into his hands. If he do not wreck them on some +dangerous coast, or sunken rock, it will be more from good fortune +than anything else." + +"He is partner in a very wealthy firm," said I. + +"The standing of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., is, you know, undoubted. +He can't wreck out friends Bigelow and Floyd, without ruining them +also." + +"I was in New York a few months ago, on business," Mr. Wallingford +replied, "and it so happened, that I heard the firm of which Dewey +is a partner spoken of. Among other remarks, was this: 'They are +thought to be very much extended.'" + +"What is the meaning of that?" asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +"It is understood in business circles," replied her husband, "to +mean, that a house is doing too much business for the amount of +capital employed, and that it has issued, in consequence, a large +amount of paper. Any very heavy losses to a firm in this condition +might prove disastrous." + +"Too much extended?" said I, thoughtfully, some new impressions +forming themselves in my mind. + +"Yes, that was the opinion held by the individual I refer to; and he +was not one to speak carelessly on so grave a matter." + +"If the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. should go down," I +remarked, "there will be sad work in S----." + +"There will, without any doubt," replied Mr. Wallingford. + +"The executors to the Allen estate might find themselves in a most +unfortunate position," said I. + +"Such a position as I would not be in, for all the world. Any thing +but dishonor!" + +"How dishonor?" asked Constance. + +"The whole estate would be, I fear, involved." + +"They gave security," said I. + +"But the sureties are not worth a tenth part of the sum for which +they stand responsible. The court acted with a singular want of +discretion in appointing them." + +"You don't mean to have us infer that Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd +have used the funds of this estate for their own purposes, to any +great extent?" + +"I would not care to say this out of doors, Doctor, but that is just +my opinion of the matter as it now stands. Dewey is guardian to the +heir, and would favor, rather than oppose, such a use of the funds." + +"It might be just so much in favor of the heir," remarked Mrs. +Wallingford, "if two-thirds of the property had disappeared by the +time he reached his majority; for, from all that I have heard of +him, he is not likely to become a man fitted to use large wealth +either to his own or any body else's advantage. He was low born and +low bred, in the worst sense of the words; and I fear that no +education will change his original quality, or greatly modify his +early bias. So while the wasting of his substance is a great wrong +in the abstract, it may be a real blessing to him. Events in this +life work out strangely to our human eyes, yet there is a Providence +in them that ever educes good from evil." + +"If we could always believe that," said I, "how tranquilly might we +pass through life! How clearly would our eyes see through the +darkest clouds, and rest upon the silver lining!" + +"Is it not so? Does not God's providence follow us in the smallest +things of our lives? Do we take a step that falls outside of his +cognizance? We have only to look back, to be assured of this. We may +walk on tranquilly, Doctor, for, as sure as we live, no evil can +befall us that does not have its origin within our own spirits. All +the machinations of our most bitter enemies will come to naught, if +we keep our hearts free from guile. They may rob us of our earthly +possessions; but even this God will turn to our greater gain." + +Mrs. Wallingford spoke with a charming enthusiasm. + +"With such a confidence," said my wife, "one is richer than if he +had the wealth of an Astor." + +"And with this great advantage," replied Mrs. Wallingford, "that he +may enjoy the whole of his possessions. Moth and rust never corrupt +them; and no man can take them away." + +"I have a new book from which I want to read you a sentiment," said +Constance, rising, and moving towards the secretary and book-case, +which stood in the room. + +Mrs. Wallingford rose and went with her. + +"It is so beautifully accordant with many things I have heard you +say," added my wife, as she took down the volume, and commenced +turning over its pages. + +After reading a few sentences, and commenting upon them, some remark +directed the attention of Mrs. Wallingford to the antiquated +secretary, which was the one I had purchased when the furniture of +the Allen house was sold. + +"I have reason to remember this old secretary," she said. "It was +here that the will was found which cut off our interest in the +estate of my uncle." + +As she spoke in a pleasant way, she pulled out a drawer--the very +one which had suggested concealment, when I first got possession of +the piece of furniture--and said-- + +"This is where the will lay concealed." + +And she pressed against the side firmly, when a portion of it +yielded, and there sprung up another drawer, or receptacle, placed +in vertically. + +We were all very much interested in this curious arrangement. The +drawer could not be pulled out much beyond half its depth; the +secret portion lying within this limit. + +As I stood looking at the drawer, a sudden thought flashed through +my mind, and I pressed my hand against the other side. It began to +yield! I pressed harder, and up sprung a corresponding secret +receptacle, from which a paper fell out. A hard substance rattled on +the solid wood. It was a gold locket, tied with a piece of blue +ribbon; and attached, with a seal, to the folded paper. + +It was some moments before a hand reached forth to lift the +document. It was at length taken up by Mr. Wallingford. As he did +so, the locket swung free, and we saw that it contained a braid of +dark hair. Unfolding the paper, and stepping back to the light, he +read, in a low, firm voice, as follows: + +"I, John Allen, being of sound mind, do make this as my last will +and testament, revoking, at the same time, all other wills. I give +and bequeath all my property, real and personal, to my sister Flora, +if living; or, if dead, to her legal heirs--reserving only, for my +wife, Theresa Garcia, in case she survive me, a legacy of five +hundred dollars a year, to be continued during her natural life. And +I name as my executors, to carry out the provisions of this will, +Doctor Edward-----and James Wilkinson, of the town of S----, State +of Massachusetts." + +Then followed the date, which was recent, compared with that of the +other wills, and the signatures of the testator and witnesses, all +in due form. The witnesses were men in our town, and well known to +us all. + +At the reading of her mother's name, Mrs. Wallingford sat down +quickly, and, covering her face, leaned over upon the centre table. +I saw that she was endeavoring to control a strong agitation. + +I was the first to speak. + +"The ways of Providence are past finding out," said I. "Let me +congratulate you on this good fortune." + +As I spoke, Mrs. Wallingford rose from the table, and, going to her +husband, placed her hands upon his arms, and looking up into his +face, fondly and tearfully, said:-- + +"Dear Henry! For your sake, my heart is glad to-night." + +He laid the will down, as if it were a thing of little value, and +kissing her, said:-- + +"This cannot add to our happiness, Blanche, and may bring care and +trouble." + +"Not more trouble than blessing," she replied, "if rightfully used." + +The locket attached to the will excited our curious interest. It +was, we felt sure, the same that Captain Allen's mother had sent to +him by the hands of Jacob Perkins. Doubtless, some memory of his +mother, stirred by the sight of this locket, had caused him to +revoke his former will, and execute this one in favor of his sister. +There was no room to question, for a moment, its genuineness. It had +all legal formality, and the men who witnessed the signature were +living and well known to us all. I was named as one of the +executors. So there was some perplexing business before me; for, in +taking things as they were, it was not probable that the executors +under the former will would be able, promptly, to give a +satisfactory account of their trust, or to hand over the property in +a shape acceptable to the right heirs. + +But, of this, more anon. Our good friends went home early after this +singular discovery, showing more bewilderment than elation of +manner. I think that Constance and I were gladder in heart than +they. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + + + +The first thing done was to place the will on record; the next to +give proper legal notice of its existence to the executors under the +previous will, Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd. Mr. Dewey, on the +announcement of this discovery, unhesitatingly declared the paper a +forgery; but the witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen were +living, and ready to attest its genuineness. They remembered, very +distinctly, the time when their names were appended to the document. +It was only a year before the Captain's death. They were walking +past the Allen House, when the old man called them in, and asked +them to witness the signing of a paper. Of its contents they had no +knowledge, as he did not make any communication on the subject. But +he signed it in their presence, and their signatures showed this +will to be the paper then executed. + +Notwithstanding this, it came to our ears, that Mr. Dewey persisted +in alleging fraud, forgery, and the complicity of these witnesses. +And from the manner of Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd, in the first +brief interview I had with them, it was plain that they were far +from being satisfied that all was right. Their manner was that of +men utterly confounded. If the property in question had been held by +them as really their own, they could hardly have exhibited more +feeling. + +After the will was entered at the proper office, and thus made +public, the following paragraph appeared in our "Weekly Star"-- + +"_Remarkable Discovery of a Will._--A singular circumstance happened +in our town last week, no less than the discovery of a new and more +recent will of the late Captain Allen, by which all of his large +property is devised to his sister and her heirs. It was found in a +secret drawer, contained in an antiquated French Secretary, which +Dr.----bought when the furniture of the Allen House was sold, +previous to a renovation of the old mansion for the residence of Mr. +Ralph Dewey. The late Mrs. Montgomery, who resided for a time at the +Allen House, was sister to Captain Allen, and her daughter is now +the wife of our townsman, Henry Wallingford, Esq. We congratulate +the parties on the good fortune which has come to their door." + +The marriage of Mr. Dewey took place within a month after the +discovery of this will, and he brought his new wife to S----, +installing her as mistress of the Allen House. She was a showy +woman, past thirty, with a pair of brilliant black eyes, and a dark, +rich complexion. Her long, thin nose, and delicate, but proudly +arching lips, showed her to possess will and determination. It was +the rumor in S----, that she brought her husband a considerable +fortune. But she was not well received among us. The families of +Judge Bigelow, and Joshua Kling, Cashier of the Clinton Bank, called +immediately. Something later called the wives of two Directors in +the Bank, and afterwards the wives of one or two citizens who had +embarked some capital in the cotton mills. Beyond this, no advances +were made towards an acquaintance with the new Mrs. Dewey. + +It shocked my sensibilities to see this woman dashing about through +S----in the elegant equipage once the pride of the now humbled +daughter of Squire Floyd, who, since the divorce granted on her +application, had lived in strict retirement in her father's house. +The only time when she was seen abroad, was on the Sabbath, at +church, with her two children. The oldest, a daughter, in her +thirteenth year; and the youngest, a boy, ten years of age. The +terrible ordeal passed through by this unhappy woman, had told upon +her severely. In a year, she seemed to have lived ten. All the fine +roundness of her face and person had given way, and she presented +the appearance of one who had come out of a long and exhausting +illness. + +Constance made it a point of duty to visit her often. She found her +states of mind exceedingly variable. Sometimes she was in patient, +tranquil states, and sometimes she manifested great bitterness of +spirit, complaining of man's cruel selfishness, and God's injustice. +The marriage of Mr. Dewey disturbed her considerably. One day, not +long after this event, Constance called to see her. She was in one +of her darker moods; and all the comforting suggestions which my +good wife could make, seemed to go for nothing. They were sitting +near a window, overlooking the street, when Delia suddenly turned +pale, and caught her breath. A carriage went sweeping by at the +moment, drawn by two spirited horses, + +"Is that the woman?" she exclaimed, as soon as she recovered +herself. + +"That is the woman," Constance replied. + +Delia clutched her hands so tightly that her arms quivered, and grew +rigid; while her pale face darkened with an expression so like +revenge, that Constance felt a shudder of fear in her heart. + +"If my prayers for her are answered," said the excited woman, +speaking through her closing teeth, "she will find that day the +darkest in the calendar of her life, when she stepped between me and +my husband. I have only curses for her in my heart. Only curses!" + +Constance, startled, and almost frightened by this wild burst of +feeling, endeavored to soothe her; but the storm was too fierce to +own the power of her gentle persuasions, and raged on for its brief +season. + +"I thought her mind had given way," said my wife, on relating what +she had seen and heard. "It was fearful to look upon a human +creature so terribly moved." + +"The trial to her feelings must have been very + +[Gap in original] + +"But I thought the severe discipline through which she had passed, +had chastened and subdued her," answered Constance. "I saw, or +believed that I saw, the beginnings of a new and true life in her +soul. But over all this, passion has swept with its besom of +destruction." + +"The better states," I replied, "may not have been destroyed in this +evil whirlwind. Such states, when once formed, usually retire and +hide themselves until the storm has spent its fury." + +"I pray that it may be so in this case," said Constance. "But from +what I saw to-day, my fears are on the other side." + +In the mean time we were taking such steps as the responsibility of +our position required, towards getting possession of the property, +which, under the will of Captain Allen, must come into our hands. My +co-executor, Mr. James Wilkinson, a merchant of S----, was for +adopting the most summary proceedings. He was annoyed at the +questions, doubts, and delays which Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd +permitted to intervene; and more especially by the intermeddling of +Dewey, towards whom, from some cause, he entertained hostile +feeling. + +As a matter of course, we were guided in all our movements by Mr. +Wallingford. At the earliest term of court, we brought forward the +claim of Mrs. Wallingford, under the last will and testament of her +uncle. A feeble effort was made to throw doubt upon the genuineness +of the document; but the oath of the witnesses to the signature of +Captain Alien settled the question beyond the reach of cavil, and +the executors under the first will were ordered to transfer, by a +certain date, all property belonging to the estate into our hands. + +I saw plainly enough, from the beginning, that the idea of giving an +account of their stewardship was not an agreeable one to either of +the executors under the old will. The direction which the property +must take was one that would not admit of any holding back or +covering up on their part. They would be required to exhibit clean +hands. + +The property clearly shown as having passed into their possession, +was the old mansion and valuable grounds, which had been sold, under +an order of the court, at a heavy sacrifice--bringing only +thirty-five thousand dollars, instead of sixty thousand, its real +value--and the proceeds re-invested. Then there was other town +property worth twenty thousand dollars, and stocks valued at as much +more: making seventy-five thousand dollars in all as the principal. +Interest added, would swell the sum for which they must give account +to over one hundred thousand dollars. + +It was found, on looking into the business, that the whole of this +immense sum was invested in the cotton mills. The search made into +the legal condition of these mill properties was not satisfactory. +There were several mortgages against them, one of which, for +twenty-five thousand dollars, was held by the Clinton Bank as +collateral security for loans. + +After various delays and failures on the part of the old executors +to meet us in a satisfactory manner, we all assembled, by +appointment, in the office of Judge Bigelow. Mr. Dewey I was +surprised to find present. But it was plain that he was there either +by the consent or request of the Judge and Squire. The court had +given a certain time for the executors under the first will to make +up their accounts, and hand over the property in trust. That time +had expired. + +There was manifest embarrassment on the part of Judge Bigelow and +his associate; while Dewey looked stern and dogged. We soon got into +the centre of the business, and found it pretty earnest work. It was +admitted by the executors that the greater portion of the estate was +in the cotton mills. How to get it out was the question. + +"I had always understood," said Mr. Wallingford, "that the mills +were chiefly owned in New York." + +"The New York interest is large," replied Squire Floyd, in a husky +voice. + +"And can be increased, no doubt, to almost any extent, in order to +enable you to withdraw the trust investments" resumed Mr. +Wallingford. + +"Why cannot you let it remain where it is for the present? The +investment is safe and the interest sure," said Judge Bigelow. + +"There isn't safer security in the state," spoke up Mr. Dewey, with +animation. + +"It isn't the kind of security we wish to hold," said Mr. Wilkinson +firmly. "We have given heavy bonds, and prefer to get the property +in a different shape." + +Here followed a chilling silence, which was broken by Mr. +Wallingford. + +"There is one way in which this can be arranged," said he. + +All eyes were turned upon him. + +"If it is not convenient to transfer to new parties interests of +such magnitude, we will take, at a fair valuation, the Allen House +and grounds appertaining thereto, including the mill site." + +Mr. Dewey was on his feet in a moment, and said-- + +"Never!" with considerable excitement of manner. + +Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd looked at each other in a bewildered +manner, and then at Mr. Dewey, who was walking the floor with many +signs of disturbance. + +"This is the family property," continued Mr. Wallingford, coolly--" +and ought never to have been sold. It is but fair that it should +come back." + +"It can't go back," spoke up Mr. Dewey. "The present owners will not +let it pass out of their hands." + +"If that is the case," said Mr. Wallingford, "we shall have to look +in another direction. It occurred to me that this might suit all +parties, and lead to an easy arrangement. But if that cannot be--if +the present owners, to use Mr. Dewey's words, will not let it go +back--then my suggestion falls to the ground, and we must look to +the investments as they stand. We do not press the matter." + +I observed Mr. Dewey closely; the amount of feeling he displayed +having drawn my attention upon him. Once or twice I saw him dart +malignant glances towards Mr. Wallingford. And so, by degrees, I +began to have a glimpse of what was passing in his mind. To go out +from that elegant home, and let Wallingford succeed him as the +owner, was something to which his proud heart could not +submit--Wallingford, the once despised and contemned student of his +uncle! That was too bitter a humiliation. + +As nothing could then be decided, another meeting, to take place in +three or four days, was agreed upon, and we separated. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + + + +As my profession kept me going about all the while, I had +opportunities for observing the movements of other people. The day +following the meeting referred to in the last chapter, I saw Dewey, +the Judge, and the Squire together several times, and always in +earnest talk. As I came home, towards evening, I saw them all +entering Mr. Dewey's residence. It was plain that there was trouble +in the camp. + +On the next day, Mr. Dewey left town. I noticed him going into a car +at the depot. When the time came for our meeting, a postponement was +asked for. I felt like demurring, but Mr. Wallingford readily +consented. + +"Give them a little more time," said he, as we walked away from +Judge Bigelow's office. "It will come out as we desired. The easiest +way for them to arrange with us, is to let us have the Allen House +property, which is owned by the firm of which Dewey is a member; and +it is with a view to this, I have no doubt, that he is now in New +York." + +So we waited a few days longer. The return of Mr. Dewey took place +in the course of a week, when I received a note from Judge Bigelow, +asking a private interview. I found him and his nephew alone. They +received me in a pleasant, affable way; and the Judge said that he +wished to have a little talk with me before another formal meeting +of the executors. I answered that it would give me pleasure to +confer with him; though I could neither accept nor propose any +thing, standing alone. + +"It is not with a view to that, Doctor," replied the Judge, his +countenance putting on a shade of gravity that nearly obliterated +the smiles with which he at first received me. "But I thought it +might help to a better issue, if two of the parties representing the +opposite interests in this case were to have a little informal +conversation." + +"I am ready to hear any thing you have to say, Judge, and shall be +very happy if I can aid, in any thing, the satisfactory adjustment +of these matters." My answer, I thought, appeared to give him +confidence, and he said-- + +"Without doubt you can aid, Doctor. The position in which Squire +Floyd and myself find ourselves placed, is one of some +embarrassment. In making investments of the property which came into +our hands, we had reference, of course, to its security and +productiveness; at the same time looking to a period, still some +years in advance, when our trust would cease, and the property pass +in due course to the heir-at-law. To realize on these investments +now, would be to damage the interests of others; and I cannot feel +that it would be right for you to urge this. The discovery of a new +will, bearing a later date, is a thing wholly unexpected. We had no +warning to prepare for the summary action growing out of its +appearance, and, as I have just intimated, cannot proceed without +injury to others." + +"I do not believe," said Mr. Dewey, "that the court, if the case was +fairly stated, would require this speedy settlement of the trust. +And it is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a +new award as to time. A year longer should be conceded to the +executors under the old will." + +"That would be equitable," said the Judge. + +"I am afraid," I made answer to this, "that Mr. Wallingford will not +consent to any postponement." + +"He won't? The hound!" I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey's +tone of voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance +an expression of malignant hatred. + +"Ralph!" said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice. + +"I can't repress my indignation," answered the nephew. "What demons +from the nether hell have conspired to give _him_ power over us? If +it had been any other man in the world I could have borne it +patiently." + +"Ralph! Ralph!" interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice. + +"It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling," was replied. +"To see you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything." + +"Pardon me, Mr. Dewey," said I, "but I cannot hear such language +used towards a gentleman of irreproachable character. Mr. +Wallingford is not entitled to the epithet you give; and I warn you, +not to repeat that, or anything like it, in my presence." + +"You warn me!" + +A gleam shot towards me from his evil eyes. + +"Ralph! silence!" The Judge spoke sternly. + +"Yes, in all soberness, I warn you," said I, fixing my gaze upon +him, and holding his eyes until they fell to the floor. "Mr. +Wallingford is not the man to permit any one to use language about +him, such as you have indulged in. If you make use of another +opprobrious epithet, I will communicate the fact to him immediately. +And let me say, that, unless a different temper is manifested, I +must terminate this interview at once." + +Judge Bigelow drew his nephew aside, and talked for some time with +him, in a low, earnest tone; after which the latter apologized, +though with an ill grace, for the intemperance of his +manner--alleging that an old wound smarted whenever Wallingford +crossed his path. + +The result of this confidential talk was not as favorable on my mind +as Judge Bigelow had hoped to make it. I pitied his embarrassment; +but the conduct of Dewey confirmed my previous view of the case, +which was to require a transfer of the property specified by Mr. +Wallingford, or press for an immediate foreclosure of the mill +investments. There was, I felt satisfied, hazard in delay. + +When our next formal meeting took place, Dewey was again present. It +was in my thought to suggest that he was not a party covered by the +business to be considered, when Mr. Wallingford said, in his mild, +grave way-- + +"I believe this is a meeting of the Executors under the two wills of +Captain Allen." + +The meaning of his remark could not be misunderstood, for he glanced +towards Mr. Dewey as he spoke. That individual, however, did not +choose to regard himself as referred to, and made no sign. But Mr. +Wallingford was not the man to let a deliberate purpose fall to the +ground. He had come with the intention of objecting to Dewey's +presence at the conference, and to insist upon his retiring, as a +preliminary to business. + +No one replying to Mr. Wallingford's remark, he said, further-- + +"I do not mean to be uncourteous, but I must suggest the propriety +of Mr. Dewey's withdrawal." + +"I am an interested party," said Dewey, with ill-concealed anger. + +"Ah! I was not before aware of this," replied Wallingford, and he +looked inquiringly towards the Judge and Squire. They showed an +uneasy perplexity of manner, but did not respond. + +"In what way are you interested?" queried Mr. Wallingford. + +"I am one of the guardians to the heir under an existing will." + +"A will that the decision of our court has rendered null and void," +was promptly answered. "We have not met to consider questions in +which Leon Garcia, or his representative, has any concern. Our +business refers to other matters." + +Dewey moved uneasily, and seemed struggling to keep down his rising +displeasure. But he did not, manifest any intention to withdraw. + +"Had we not better proceed to business?" suggested Squire Floyd. + +"Not while Mr. Dewey remains," said I, firmly taking the side of Mr. +Wallingford. + +"Somebody will repent himself of this!" exclaimed the ill-governed +man, passionately, starting to his feet, and striding from the +office. + +"I don't understand this individual's conduct," remarked +Wallingford, in a serious way. "Why has he presumed to intermeddle +in our business? It has a bad look." + +He knit his brows closely, and put on a stern aspect, very unusual +to him. + +"You probably forget," said Judge Bigelow, "that you have proposed a +change of ownership in property now occupied by him?" + +"That was simply to give you more latitude in settling up the estate +in your hands. I said we were willing to accept that property at a +fair valuation, thinking it would offer a desirable mode of +liquidation. It is for you to say yea or nay to us; not Ralph Dewey. +If you cannot gain his consent to the transfer, there is an end of +that proposal." + +I really commiserated the embarrassment shown by the Judge and +Squire. They seemed to be in a maze, without perceiving the right +way of extrication. Dewey appeared to have over them some mysterious +influence, above which they had not power to rise. + +"If Ralph will not consent--" + +"Ralph must consent!" exclaimed Squire Floyd, with a sudden energy +of manner, and the exhibition of a degree of will not shown before. +"Ralph _must_ consent! The mode of adjustment proposed by Mr. +Wallingford is the one easiest for us to accomplish, and I shall +insist on Dewey's giving up his opposition. There is a vast deal +more of pride than principle involved in his objection." + +The Squire was breaking away from his fetters. + +"It is plain," added Squire Floyd, "that his partners wish that +property to go in preference to any other. And it must go." + +This was a style of remark quite unexpected on our part; and only +added firmness to our purpose. The interview was not prolonged in +discussion. We merely reaffirmed our ultimatum, and gave one week +for the two men to decide in what manner to close their trust. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + + + +The decision was as I expected it to be; and the old property came +back into the family. There were few hearts in S----, that did not +beat with pleasure, when it was known that Mr. Wallingford and his +lovely wife were to pass from Ivy Cottage to the stately Allen +House. + +I think the strife between Mr. Dewey and the old executors was +severe, and that he yielded only when he saw that they were +immovable. An open rupture with Squire Floyd was a consequence of +his persistent determination to have the Allen property transferred; +and after the settlement of this business, they held no personal +communication with each other. + +The change in Mr. Dewey's appearance, after it became a settled +thing that he must remove from the splendid mansion he had occupied +for years, was remarkable. He lost the impressive swagger that +always said, "I am the first man in S----;" and presented the +appearance of one who had suffered some great misfortune, without +growing better under the discipline. He did not meet you with the +free, open, better-than-you look that previously characterized him, +but with a half sidelong falling of the eyes, in which there was, to +me, something very sinister. + +As far as our observation went, Mr. Wallingford put on no new phase +of character. There was about him the same quiet, thoughtful dignity +of manner which had always commanded involuntary respect. He showed +no unseemly haste in dispossessing Mr. Dewey of his elegant home. +Two months after the title deeds had passed, I called in at Ivy +Cottage, now one of the sweetest, little places in S----, for +Constance, who had been passing the evening there. Not in any home, +through all the region round, into which it was my privilege to +enter, was there radiant, like a warm, enticing atmosphere that +swelled your lungs with a new vitality, and gave all your pulses a +freer beat, such pure love--maternal and conjugal--as pervaded this +sanctuary of the heart. I say maternal, as well as conjugal, for two +dear babes had brought into this home attendant angels from the +higher heaven. + +A soft astral lamp threw its mellow rays about the room. Mr. +Wallingford had a book open in his hand, from which he had been +reading aloud to his wife and Constance. He closed the volume as I +entered, and rising, took my hand, saying, with even more than his +usual cordiality-- + +"Now our circle is complete." + +"Excuse me from rising, Doctor," said Mrs. Wallingford, a smile of +welcome giving increased beauty to her countenance, as she offered +the hand that was free--the other held her babe, just three months +old, tenderly to her bosom. + +"What have you been reading?" I asked, as I seated myself, and +glanced towards the volume which Mr. Wallingford had closed and laid +upon the table. + +"A memorable relation of the Swedish Seer," he replied, smiling. + +"Touching marriage in heaven," said I, smiling in return. + +"Or, to speak more truly," he replied, "the union of two souls in +heaven, into an eternal oneness. Yes, that was the subject, and it +always interests me deeply. Our life here is but a span, and our +brief union shadowed by care, pain, sickness, and the never-dying +fear of parting. The sky of our being is not unclouded long. And +therefore I cannot believe that the blessedness of married love dies +forever at the end of this struggle to come into perfect form and +beauty. No, Doctor; the end is not here. And so Blanche and I turn +often with an eager delight to these relations, feeling, as we read, +that they are not mere pictures of fancy, but heavenly verities. +They teach us that if we would be united in the next world, we must +become purified in this. That selfish love, which is of the person +must give place to a love for spiritual qualities. That we must grow +in the likeness and image of God, if we would make one angel in His +heavenly kingdom." + +His eyes rested upon Blanche, as he closed the sentence, with a look +full of love; and she, as if she knew that the glance was coming, +turned and received it into her heart. + +I did not question the faith that carried them over the bounds of +time, and gave them delicious foreshadowings of the blessedness +beyond. As I looked at them, and marked how they seemed to grow +daily into a oneness of spirit, could I doubt that there was for +them an eternal union? No, no. Such doubts would have been false to +the instincts of my own soul, and false to the instincts of every +conscious being made to love and be loved. + +"The laying aside of this earthly investiture," said Wallingford, +resuming, "the passage from mortal to immortal life, cannot change +our spirits, but only give to all their powers a freer and more +perfect development. Love is not a quality of the body, but of the +spirit, and will remain in full force, after the body is cast off +like the shell of a chrysalis. Still existing, it will seek its +object. And shall it seek forever and not find? God forbid! No! The +love I bear my wife is not, I trust, all of the earth, earthy; but +instinct with a heavenly perpetuity. And when we sleep the sleep of +death, it will be in the confident assurance of a speedy and more +perfect conjunction of our lives. On a subject of such deep concern, +we are dissatisfied with the vague and conjectural; and this is why +the record of things seen and heard in the spiritual world by +Swedenborg--especially in what relates to marriages in heaven--has +for us such an absorbing interest." + +"Are you satisfied with the evidence?" I ventured to inquire, seeing +him so confident. + +"Yes." + +He answered quietly, and with an assured manner. + +"How do you reach a conclusion as to the truth of these things?" + +"Something after the same way that you satisfy yourself that the sun +shines." + +"My eyes testify to me that fact. Seeing is believing," I answered. + +"The spirit of a man has eyes as well as his body," said +Wallingford. "And seeing is believing in another sense than you +intimate. Now the bodily eyes see material objects, and the mind, +receiving their testimony, is in no doubt as to the existence, +quality, and relation of things in the outer world. The eyes of our +spirits, on the other hand, see immaterial objects or truths; and +presenting them to the rational and perceptive faculties, they are +recognized as actual existences, and their quality as surely +determined as the quality of a stone or metal. If you ask me how I +know that this is quartz, or that iron; I answer, By the testimony +of my eyes. And so, if you ask how I satisfy myself as to the truth +of which I read in this book; I can only reply that I see it all so +clearly that conviction is a necessity. There is no trouble in +believing. To attempt disbelief, would be to illustrate the fable of +Sisyphus." + +He spoke calmly, like one whose mind had risen above doubt. I +objected nothing further; for that would have been useless. And why +attempt to throw questions into his mind? Was there anything evil in +the faith which he had adopted as exhibited in his life? I could not +say yes. On the contrary, taking his life as an illustration, good +only was to be inferred. I remembered very well when his mind +diverged into this new direction. Some years had intervened. I +thought to see him grow visionary or enthusiastic. Not so, however. +There was a change progressively visible; but it was in the +direction of sound and rational views of life. A broader humanity +showed itself in his words and actions. Then came the subtler vein +of religious sentiments, running like pure gold through all that +appertained to him. + +If, therefore, he was progressing towards a higher life, why should +I question as to the way being right for him? Why should I seek to +turn him into another path when there was such a broad light for his +eyes on the one he had chosen? "By their fruits ye shall know them." +And by his fruits I knew him to be of that highest type of manhood, +a Christian gentleman. + +I noticed, while Mr. Wallingford spoke so confidently of their +reunion in heaven, that his wife leaned towards, and looked at him, +with eyes through which her soul seemed going forth into his. + +As the conversation flowed on, it gradually involved other themes, +and finally led to the question On my part, as to when they were +going to leave Ivy Cottage. + +"That is quite uncertain," replied Mr. Wallingford. "I shall not +hurry the present occupant. We have been so happy here, that we feel +more inclined to stay than to remove to a more ambitious home." + +"I hear that Mr. Dewey is going to build," said I. + +"Where?" + +"He has been negotiating for the property on the elevation west of +the Allen House." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes. The price of the ground, five acres, is ten thousand dollars." + +"The site is commanding and beautiful. The finest in S----, for one +who thinks mainly of attracting the attention of others," said Mr. +Wallingford. + +"If he builds, we shall see something on a grander scale than +anything yet attempted in our neighborhood. He will overshadow you." + +"The rivalry must be on his side alone," was Mr. Wallingford's +reply. "No elegance or imposing grandeur that he may assume, can +disturb me in the smallest degree. I shall only feel pity for the +defect of happiness that all his blandishments must hide." + +"A splendid Italian villa is talked of." + +Mr. Wallingford shook his head. + +"You doubt all this?" said I. + +"Not the man's ambitious pride; but his ability to do what pride +suggests. He and his compeers are poorer, by a hundred thousand +dollars, than they deemed themselves a few short months ago." + +"Have they met with heavy losses?" I asked, not understanding the +drift of his remark. + +"The estate in trust has been withdrawn." + +"How should that make them poorer?" + +"It makes them poorer, in the first place, as to the means for +carrying on business. And it makes them poorer, in the second place, +in the loss of an estate, which, I am sorry to believe, Mr. Dewey +and a part of his New York associates regarded as virtually their +own. + +"But the heir was approaching his majority," said I. + +"And growing up a weak, vicious, self-indulgent young man, who, in +the hands of a shrewd, unscrupulous villain, might easily be robbed +of his fortune. You may depend upon it, Doctor, that somebody has +suffered a terrible disappointment, and one from which he is not +likely soon to recover. No--no! We shall see nothing of this +princely Italian villa." + +"I cannot believe," I replied, "that the executors who had the +estate in trust were influenced by dishonorable motives. I know the +men too well." + +"Nor do I, Doctor," he answered, promptly. "But, as I have before +said, they were almost wholly under the influence of Dewey, and I +think that he was leading them into mazes from which honorable +extrication would have been impossible." + +"Have you given Dewey any notice of removal?" I inquired. + +"No--and shall not, for some time. I am in no hurry to leave this +place, in which the happiest days of my life have passed. Any +seeming eagerness to dispossess him, would only chafe a spirit in +which I would not needlessly excite evil passions. His pride must, I +think, lead him at a very early day to remove, and thus make a plain +way before me." + +"How long will you wait?" I asked. + +"Almost any reasonable time." + +"You and he might not take the same view of what was reasonable," +said I. + +"Perhaps not. But, as I remarked just now, being in no hurry to +leave our present home, I shall not disturb him for some months to +come. No change will be made by us earlier than next spring. And if +he wishes to spend the winter in his present abode, he is welcome to +remain." + +There was no assumed virtuous forbearance in all this; but a sincere +regard for the feelings and comfort of Dewey. This was so apparent, +that I did not question for a moment his generous consideration of a +man who would not have hesitated, if the power were given, to crush +him to the very earth. + +Many thoughts passed in my mind, as I pondered the incidents and +conversation of this evening. In looking back upon life, we see the +sure progress of causes to effects; and in the effects, the quality +of the causes. We no longer wonder at results--the only wonder is, +that they were not foreseen. Wise maxims, some of the garnered +grains of our fathers' experiences, are scattered through the books +we read, and daily fall from the lips of teachers and friends; +maxims which, if observed, would lead us to honor and happiness. But +who gives them heed? Who makes them the rule of his conduct? + +We might wonder less at the blind infatuation with which so many +press onward in a course that all the wisdom of the past, as well as +all the reason of the present, condemns, if it were possible to rub +out our actions, as a child rubs from his slate a wrong sum, and +begin the work of life over again. But this cannot be. We weave +hourly the web that is to bind us in the future. Our to-days hold +the fate of our to-morrows. What we do is done for ever, and in some +degree will affect us throughout infinite ages. + +"Poor Delia Floyd!" My thought had turned to her as I lay awake, +long after the small hours of the morning, busy with incidents and +reflections which had completely banished sleep from my eyes. In the +strong pity of my heart, I spoke the words aloud. + +"What of her?" said Constance, in a tone of surprise. And so +intruding thought had kept her awake also! + +"Nothing more than usual," I answered. "But I cannot sleep for +thinking of her unhappy state, and what she might have been, if +obeying her own heart's right impulses, and the reason God gave her, +she had accepted a true man, instead of a specious villain for her +husband. The scene in Ivy Cottage to-night stands in most remarkable +contrast with some things I witnessed at the Allen House before she +went out thence a wretched woman for life. She staked everything on +a desperate venture, and has lost. God pity her! for there is no +help in any human arm. To think of what she is, and what she might +have been, is enough to veil her reason in midnight darkness." + +"Amen! God pity her!" said Constance. "For truly there is no help +for her in mortal arm." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + + + +The conduct of Mr. Wallingford, in regard to the estate which had +fallen into his hands, rather puzzled Dewey. He had anticipated an +early notification to remove, and, true to his character, had +determined to annoy the new owner by vexatious delays. But after the +passage of several weeks, in which came to him no intimation that he +must give up the possession of his elegant home, he began to wonder +what it could mean. + +One day, not long after the conversation with Wallingford, mentioned +in the last chapter, I met Mr. Dewey in the street. He stopped me +and said, in half-sneering way, + +"What of our honorable friend? Impatient, I suppose, to see the +inside of the Allen House?" + +"No," I replied, "he has no wish to disturb you for the present." + +"Indeed! You expect me to believe all that, of course." + +There was a rudeness in his manner that was offensive; but I did not +care to let him see that I noticed it. + +"Why should you not believe my remark?" said I. "Is it a new thing +in your experience with men to find an individual considerate of +another?" + +"What do you mean by considerate of another?" + +My form of speech touched his pride. + +"Mr. Wallingford has manifested towards you a considerate spirit," +said I, speaking slowly and distinctly. "It naturally occurs to him +that, as you are so pleasantly situated at the Allen House, an early +removal therefrom might be anything but desirable. And so he has +rested quietly up to this time, leaving a decision as to the period +with yourself." + +"Humph! Very unselfish, truly!" + +His lip curled in disdain. + +"If you feel restive under this concession in your favor," said I, +putting on a serious manner, "I would suggest independence as a +remedy." + +He looked at me curiously, yet with a scowling contraction of his +brows. + +"Independence! What am I to understand by your remark?" + +"Simply this, Mr. Dewey. You are in the occupancy of property +belonging to Mr. Wallingford, and by his favor. Now, if you cannot +receive a kindness at his hands, in the name of all that is manly +and independent, put yourself out of the range of obligation." + +I was not able to repress a sudden feeling of indignation, and so +spoke with warmth and plainness. + +"Thank you for your plainness of speech, Doctor," he retorted, +drawing himself up in a haughty manner. + +"As to removing from the Allen House, I will do that just when it +suits my pleasure." + +"Mr. Wallingford, you may be assured," said I, will not show any +unseemly impatience, if you do not find it convenient to make an +early removal. He knows that it cannot be agreeable for you to give +up the home of years, and he is too much of a Christian and a +gentleman to do violence to another's feelings, if it can be in any +way avoided." + +"Pah! I hate cant!" + +He threw his head aside in affected disgust. + +"We judge men by their actions, not their words," said I. "If a man +acts with considerate kindness, is it cant to speak of him in terms +of praise? Pardon me, Mr. Dewey, but I think you are letting passion +blind you to another's good qualities." + +"The subject is disagreeable to me, Doctor. Let us waive it." + +"It was introduced by yourself, remember," I replied; "and all that +I have said has been in response to your own remarks. This much good +has grown from it. You know just how Mr. Wallingford stands towards +you, and you can govern yourself according to your own views in the +case. And now let me volunteer this piece of advice. Never wantonly +give offence to another, for you cannot tell how soon you may find +yourself in need of his good services." + +Dewey gave me a formal bow, and passed on his way. + +About a week afterwards, Judge Bigelow inquired of Wallingford as to +when he wished to get possession of the Allen House. + +"Whenever Mr. Dewey finds it entirely convenient to remove," was the +unhesitating reply. + +"Suppose it should not be convenient this fall or winter?" + +"Very well. The spring will suit me. I am in no hurry. We are too +comfortable in Ivy Cottage to be in any wise impatient for change." + +"Then it is your pleasure that Mr. Dewey remain until spring?" + +"If such an arrangement is desirable on his part, Judge, it is +altogether accordant with my feelings and convenience. Say to him +that he has only to consult his own wishes in the case." + +"You are kind and considerate, Mr. Wallingford," said the Judge, his +manner softening considerably, for there had been a coldness of some +years' standing on the part of Judge Bigelow, which more recent +events had increased. + +"And why should it be otherwise, Judge?" inquired his old student. + +"Mr. Dewey has not given you cause for either kindness or +consideration." + +"It would hurt me more than it would him, were I to foster his +unhappy spirit. It is always best, I find, Judge, to be right with +myself." + +"All men would find it better for themselves, were they to let so +fine a sentiment govern their lives," remarked Judge Bigelow, struck +by the language of Wallingford. + +"It is the only true philosophy," was replied. "If a man is right +with himself, he cannot be wrong towards others; though it is +possible, as in my case, that other eyes, looking through a densely +refracting medium, may see him out of his just position. But he +would act very unwisely were he to change his position for all that. +He will be seen right in the end." + +Judge Bigelow reached out his hand and grasped that of Mr. +Wallingford. + +"Spoken like a man, Henry! Spoken like a man!" he said, warmly. "I +only wish that Ralph had something of your spirit. I have seen you a +little out of your right position, I believe; but a closer view is +correcting the error." + +Wallingford returned the pressure as warmly as it was given, saying, +as he did so-- + +"I am aware, Judge, that you have suffered your mind to fall into a +state of prejudice in regard to me. But I am not aware of any thing +in my conduct towards you or others, to warrant the feeling. If in +any thing I have been brought into opposition, faithfulness to the +interests I represented has been the rule of my conduct. I have +sought by no trick of law to gain an advantage. The right and the +just I have endeavored to pursue, without fear and without favor. +Can you give me a better rule for professional or private life?" + +"I cannot, Henry," was the earnest reply. "And if all men would so +pursue the right and the just, how different would be the result for +each, as the sure adjustment of advancing years gave them their true +places in the world's observation!" + +The Judge spoke in a half--absent way, and with a shade of regret in +his tones; Wallingford noted this with a feeling of concern. + +"Let us be friends in the future," he added, again offering his hand +to Wallingford. + +"It will be your fault, not mine, if we are not fast fiends, Judge. +I have never forgotten the obligations of my boyhood; and never +ceased to regret the alienation you have shown. To have seemed in +your eyes ungrateful, has been a source of pain whenever I saw or +thought of you." + +The two men parted, each feeling better for the interview. A day or +two afterwards Wallingford received a note from Judge Bigelow asking +him, as a particular favor, to call at his office that evening. He +went, of course. The Judge was alone, and received him cordially. +But, his countenance soon fell into an expression of more than usual +gravity. + +"Mr. Wallingford," he said, after the passage of a few casual +observations, "I would like to consult you in strict confidence on +some matters in which I have become involved. I can trust you, of +course?" + +"As fully as if the business were my own," was the unhesitating +answer. + +"So I have believed. The fact is, Henry, I have become so entangled +in this cotton mill business with Squire Floyd, Dewey, and others, +that I find myself in a maze of bewildering uncertainty. The Squire +and Ralph are at loggerheads, and seem to me to be getting matters +snarled up. There is no denying the fact that this summary footing +of our accounts, as executors, has tended to cripple affairs. We +were working up to the full extent of capital invested, and the +absence of a hundred thousand dollars--or its representative +security--has made financiering a thing of no easy consideration." + +"I am afraid, Judge Bigelow," said Wallingford, as the old man +paused, "that you are in the hands of one who, to gain his own ends, +would sacrifice you without a moment's hesitation." + +"Who?" + +"You will permit me to speak plainly, Judge." + +"Say on. The plain speech of a friend is better than the flatteries +of an enemy." + +"I have no faith in Ralph Dewey." + +The two men looked steadily at each other for some moments. + +"Over fifteen years' observation of the man has satisfied me that he +possesses neither honor nor humanity. He is your nephew. But that +does not signify. We must look at men as they are." + +"His movements have not been to my satisfaction for some time," said +the Judge; speaking as though conviction had to force itself upon +his mind. + +"You should canvass all he does with the closest care; and if your +property lies in any degree at his mercy, change the relation as +quickly as possible." + +"Are you not prejudiced against him, Henry?" The Judge spoke in a +deprecating tone. + +"I believe, sir, that I estimate him at his real value; and I do +most earnestly conjure you to set to work at once to disentangle +your affairs if seriously involved with his. If you do not, he will +beggar you in your old age, which God forbid!" + +"I am far from sure that I can disentangle my affairs," said the +Judge. + +"There is nothing like trying, you know." Wallingford spoke in a +tone of encouragement. "And everything may depend on beginning in +time. In what way are you involved with him?" + +It was some time before Judge Bigelow answered this direct question. +He then replied, + +"Heavily in the way of endorsements." + +"Of his individual paper?" + +"Yes. Also of the paper of his firm." + +"To an extent beyond your ability to pay if there should be failure +on their part?" + +"Yes; to three times my ability to pay." + +Wallingford dropped his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time. He +then looked up into Judge Bigelow's face, and said, + +"If that be so, I can see only one way for you." + +"Say on." + +"Let no more endorsements be given from this day forth." + +"How can I suddenly refuse? The thing has been going on for years." + +"You can refuse to do wrong on the plea of wrong. If your name gives +no real value to a piece of paper, yet accredits it in the eyes of +others, it is wrong for you to place your endorsement thereon. Is +not this so?" + +"I admit the proposition, Henry." + +"Very well. The only way to get right, is to start right. And my +dear, dear sir! let me implore you to take immediately the first +step in a right direction. Standing outside of the charmed circle of +temptation as I do, I can see the right way for your feet to walk in +better than you can. Oh, sir! Let me be eyes, and hand, and feet for +you if need be; and if it is not too late, I will save you from +impending ruin." + +Wallingford took the old man's hand, and grasped it warmly as he +spoke. The Judge was moved by this earnest appeal, coming upon him +so unexpectedly; and not only moved, but startled and alarmed by the +tenor of what was said. + +"The first thing," he remarked, after taking time to get his +thoughts clear, "if I accept of your friendly overtures, is for me +to lay before you everything just as it is, so that you can see +where I stand, and how I stand. Without this, your view of the case +would be partial, and your conclusions might not be right." + +"That is unquestionably so," Wallingford replied. "And now, Judge, +if you wish my friendly aid, confide in me as you would a son or +brother. You will find me as true as steel." + +A revelation succeeded that filled Mr. Wallingford with painful +astonishment. The endorsements of Judge Bigelow, on paper brought to +him by Dewey, and of which he took no memorandums, covered, no +doubt, from a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Then, +as to the affairs of the Clinton Bank, of which Judge Bigelow was +still the President, he felt a great deal of concern. The Cashier +and Mr. Dewey knew far more about the business and condition of the +institution than anybody else, and managed it pretty much in their +own way. The directors, if not men of straw, might almost as well +have been, for all the intelligent control they exercised. As for +Judge, Bigelow, the principal duty required of him was to sign his +name as President to great sheets of bank bills, the denomination +running from one dollar to a thousand. Touching the extent to which +these representatives of value were issued, he knew nothing certain. +He was shown, at regular periods, a statement wherein the condition +of the bank was set forth, and to which he appended his signature. +But he had no certain knowledge that the figures were correct. Of +the paper under discount over two-thirds was drawn or endorsed by +Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. + +At the time Judge Bigelow began investing in mill property, he was +worth, in productive stocks and real estate, from thirty to forty +thousand dollars. He now estimated his wealth at from sixty to +eighty thousand dollars; but it was all locked up in the mills. + +The result of this first interview between the Judge and Mr. +Wallingford was to set the former in a better position to see the +character of his responsibilities, and the extreme danger in which +he stood. The clear, honest, common sense way in which Wallingford +looked at everything, and comprehended everything, surprised his old +preceptor; and gave him so much confidence in his judgment and +discretion, that he placed himself fully in his hands. And well for +him was it that he did so in time. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + + + +In accordance with the advice of Mr. Wallingford, the first +reactionary movement on the part of Judge Bigelow, was his refusal +to endorse any more paper for his nephew, or the firm of which he +was a member, on the ground that such endorsements, on his part, +were of no real value, considering the large amounts for which he +was already responsible, and consequently little better than +fraudulent engagements to pay. + +A storm between the uncle and nephew was the consequence, and the +latter undertook to drive the old gentleman back again into the +traces, by threats of terrible disasters to him and all concerned. +If Judge Bigelow had stood alone, the nephew would have been too +strong for him. But he had a clear-seeing, honest mind to throw +light upon his way, and a young and vigorous arm to lean upon in his +hour of weakness and trial. And so Ralph Dewey, to his surprise and +alarm, found it impossible to bend the Judge from his resolution. + +Then followed several weeks, during which time Dewey was flying back +and forth between New York and S----, trying to re-adjust the +disturbed balance of things. The result was as Mr. Wallingford had +anticipated. There was too much at stake for the house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co., to let matters fail for lack of Judge Bigelow's +endorsements. Some other prop must be substituted for this one. + +The four months that followed were months of anxious suspense on the +part of Judge Bigelow and his true friend, who was standing beside +him, though invisible in this thing to all other eyes, firm as a +rocky pillar. No more endorsements were given, and the paper bearing +his name was by this time nearly all paid. + +"Right, so far," said Mr. Wallingford, at the expiration of the time +in which most of the paper bearing Judge Bigelow's name reached its +maturity. "And now for the next safe move in this difficult game, +where the odds are still against us. You must get out of this Bank." + +The Judge looked gravely opposed. + +"It may awaken suspicion that something is wrong, and create a run +upon the Bank, which would be ruin." + +"Can you exercise a controlling influence in the position you hold? +Can you be true, as President of the Clinton Bank, to the public +interest you represent?" + +"I cannot. They have made of me an automaton." + +"Very well. That settles the question. You cannot honorably hold +your place a single day. There is only one safe step, and that is to +resign." + +"But the loose way in which I held office will be exposed to my +successor." + +"That is not the question to consider, Judge--but the right. Still, +so far as this fear is concerned, don't let it trouble you. The +choice of successor will fall upon some one quite as facile to the +wishes of Ralph Dewey & Company as you have been." + +The good counsels of Mr. Wallingford prevailed. At the next meeting +of the Board of Directors, the resignation of Judge Bigelow was +presented. Dewey had been notified two days before of what was +coming, and was prepared for it. He moved, promptly, that the +resignation be accepted. As soon as the motion was carried, he +offered the name of Joshua Kling, the present Cashier, for the +consideration of the Board, and urged his remarkable fitness. Of +course, Mr. Joshua Kling was elected; and his place filled by one of +the tellers. To complete the work, strong complimentary resolutions, +in which deep regret at the resignation of Judge Bigelow was +expressed, were passed by the Board. In the next week's paper, the +following notice of this change in the officers of the Bank +appeared: + +"_Resignation of Judge Bigelow._--In consequence of the pressure of +professional engagements, our highly esteemed citizen Judge Bigelow, +has found it necessary to give up the office of President in the +Clinton Bank, which he has held with so much honor to himself since +the institution commenced business. He is succeeded by Joshua Kling, +Esq., late Cashier; a gentleman peculiarly well-fitted for the +position to which he has been elevated. Harvey Weems, the first +Teller, takes the place of Cashier. A better selection, it would be +impossible to make. From the beginning, the affairs of this Bank +have been managed with great prudence, and it is justly regarded as +one of the soundest in the State." + +"My dear friend," said the grateful Judge, grasping the hand of +Wallingford, who called his attention to this notice, "what a world +of responsibility you have helped me to cast from my shoulders! I am +to-day a happier man than I have been for years. The new President +is welcome to all the honor his higher position may reflect upon +him." + +"The next work in order," remarked the Judge's clear-headed, +resolute friend, "is to withdraw your investments from the cotton +mills. That will be a slower and more difficult operation; but it +must be done, even at a sacrifice. Better have fifty thousand +dollars in solid real estate, than a hundred thousand in that +concern." + +And so this further disentanglement was commenced. + +Winter having passed away, Mr. Dewey saw it expedient to retire from +the Allen House. By this time nothing more was heard of his Italian +Villa. He had something else to occupy his thoughts. As there was no +house to be rented in S----, that in any way corresponded with his +ideas, he stored his furniture, and took board at the new hotel +which had lately been erected. + +Mr. Wallingford now made preparations for removing to the old +mansion, which was still the handsomest place, by all odds, in our +town. + +One day, early in the summer, I received a note from Mr. +Wallingford, asking me to call around at Ivy Cottage in the evening. +At the bottom of the note, was a pencilled line from his wife to +Constance, asking the pleasure of seeing her also. We went after +tea. + +"Come with me to the library, Doctor!" said my excellent friend, +soon after our arrival. "I want to have a little talk with you." + +So we left the ladies and retired to the library. + +"My business with you to-night," said he, as we seated ourselves, +facing each other, on opposite sides of the library-table, "is to +get at some adjustment of affairs between us, as touching your +executorship of the Allen estate. I have asked two or three times +for your bills against the estate, but you have always put me off. +Mr. Wilkinson, on the contrary, rendered an account for services, +which has been allowed and settled." + +"The business required so little attention on my part," I replied to +this, "that I have never felt that I could, in conscience, render an +account. And besides, it was with me so much a labor of love, that I +do not wish to mar the pleasure I felt by overlaying it with a +compensation." + +"No man could possibly feel more deeply your generous good will +toward me and mine--manifested from the beginning until now--than I +do, Doctor. But I cannot permit the obligation to rest all on one +side." + +He pulled out a drawer of the library-table, as he said this, and +taking therefrom a broad parchment document, laid it down, and while +his hand rested upon it continued-- + +"Anticipating that, as heretofore, I might not be able to get your +figures, I have taken the matter into my own hands, and fixed the +amount of compensation--subject, of course, to objections on your +part, if I have made the award too low. These papers are the title +deeds of Ivy Cottage, executed in your favor. There are memories and +associations connected with this dear spot, which must for ever be +sacred in the hearts of myself and wife; and it would be pain to us +to see it desecrated by strangers. In equity and love, then, we pass +it over to you and yours; and may God give you as much happiness +beneath its roof as we have known." + +Surprise kept me silent for some time. But as soon as my thoughts +ran free, I answered-- + +"No--no, Mr. Wallingford. This is fixing the sum entirely beyond a +fair estimate. I cannot for a moment--" + +He stopped me before I could finish the sentence. + +"Doctor!" He spoke with earnestness and deep feeling. "There is no +living man to whom I am so heavily indebted as I am to you. Not +until after my marriage was I aware that your favorable word, given +without qualification, bore me into the confidence of Mrs. +Montgomery, and thus opened the way for me to happiness and fortune. +My good Blanche has often repeated to me the language you once used +in my favor, and which awakened in her mind an interest which +gradually deepened into love. My heart moves towards you, Doctor, +and you must let its impulses have way in this small matter. Do not +feel it as an obligation. That is all on our side. We cannot let Ivy +Cottage go entirely out of the family. We wish to have as much +property in it as the pilgrim has in Mecca. We must visit it +sometimes, and feel always that its chambers are the abodes of peace +and love. A kind Providence has given us of this world's goods an +abundance. We did not even have to lift our hands to the ripe +clusters. They fell into our laps. And now, if, from our plenty, we +take a small portion and discharge a debt, will you push aside the +offering, and say, No? Doctor, this must not be!" + +Again I essayed objection; but all was in vain. Ivy Cottage was to +be our pleasant home. When, on returning with Constance, I related +to her what had passed between Mr. Wallingford and myself, she was +affected to tears. + +"If I have ever had a covetous thought," she said, "it has been when +I looked at Ivy Cottage. And to think it is to be mine! The +sweetest, dearest spot in S----!" + +There was no putting aside this good fortune. It came in such a +shape, that we could not refuse it without doing violence to the +feelings of true-hearted friends. And so, when they removed to their +new home, we passed to Ivy Cottage. + +The two years that followed were marked by no events of striking +interest. The affairs of Judge Bigelow continued to assume a better +shape, under the persistent direction of Mr. Wallingford, until +every dollar which he had invested in the cotton mills was withdrawn +and placed in real estate or sound securities. Long before this +there had come an open rupture between the old man and his nephew; +but the Judge had seen his real character in so clear a light that +friendship was no longer desirable. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + + + +And now we have come down to the memorable summer and fall of 1857. +No gathering clouds, no far-distant, low-voiced thunder gave warning +of an approaching storm. The sky was clear, and the sun of +prosperity moving onward in his strength, when, suddenly, from the +West came a quick flash and an ominous roll of thunder. Men paused, +looked at each other, and asked what it meant. Here and there a note +of warning was sounded; but, if heeded by any, it came too late. +There followed a brief pause, in which people held their breaths. +Then came another flash, and another rattling peal. Heavy clouds +began to roll up from the horizon; and soon the whole sky was dark. +Pale face looked into pale face, and tremulous voices asked as to +what was coming. Fear and consternation were in all hearts. It was +too late for any to seek refuge or shelter. Ere the startled +multitudes had stirred from their first surprised position, the +tempest came down in its fury, sweeping, tornado-like, from West to +East, and then into one grand gyration circling the whole horizon. +Men lost courage, confidence, and hope. They stood still while the +storm beat down, and the fearful work of destruction went on. + +No commercial disaster like this had ever before visited our +country. Houses that stood unmoved through many fierce convulsions +went down like brittle reeds, and old Corporations which were +thought to be as immovable as the hills tottered and fell, crushing +hundreds amid their gigantic ruins. + +Among the first to yield was the greatly extended house of Floyd, +Lawson, Lee, & Co. The news came up on the wires to S----, with +orders to stop the mills and discharge all hands. This was the +bursting of the tempest on our town. Mr. Dewey had gone to New York +on the first sign of approaching trouble, and his return was looked +for anxiously by all with whom he was deeply interested in business. +But many days passed and none saw him, or heard from him. Failing to +receive any communication, Squire Floyd, who had everything +involved, went down to New York. I saw him on the morning of his +return. He looked ten years older. + +It was soon whispered about that the failure of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, +& Co. was a bad one. Then came intimations that Mr. Dewey was not in +New York, and that his partners, when questioned about him, gave +very unsatisfactory replies. + +"Have you any notes of the Clinton Bank, Doctor?" said a friend whom +I met in the street. "Because, if you have, take my advice and get +rid of them as quickly as possible. A run has commenced, and it's my +opinion that the institution will not stand for forty-eight hours." + +It stood just forty-eight hours from the date of this prophecy, and +then closed its doors, leaving our neighborhood poorer by the +disaster over two hundred thousand dollars. There was scarcely a +struggle in dying, for the institution had suffered such an +exhausting depletion that when its extremity came it passed from +existence without a throe. A Receiver was immediately appointed, and +the assets examined. These consisted, mainly, of bills receivable +under discount, not probably worth now ten cents on the dollar. +Three-fourths of this paper was drawn or endorsed by New York firms +or individuals, most of whom had already failed. The personal +account of Ralph Dewey showed him to be a debtor to the Bank in the +sum of nearly a hundred thousand dollars. The President, Joshua +Kling, had not been seen since the evening of the day on which the +doors of the Clinton Bank were shut, never to be opened for business +again. His accounts were all in confusion. The Cashier, who had +succeeded him on his elevation to the Presidency of the institution; +was a mere creature in his hands; and from his revelations it was +plain that robbery had been progressing for some time on a grand +scale. + +As soon as these disastrous facts became known to the heaviest +sufferers in S----, the proper affidavits were made out, and +requisitions obtained for both Dewey and Kling, as defaulters and +fugitives from justice. The Sheriff of our county, charged with the +duty of arrest, proceeded forthwith to New York, and, engaging the +services of detectives there, began the search for Dewey, who, it +was believed, had not left that city. He was discovered, in a week, +after having dexterously eluded pursuit, on the eve of departure for +England, disguised, and under an assumed name. His next appearance +in S----was as a prisoner in the hands of our Sheriff, who lodged +him in jail. Very heavy bonds being required for his appearance at +court, there was not found among us any one willing to take the +risk, who was qualified to become his surety. And so the wretched +man was compelled to lie in prison until the day of trial. + +Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who +visited him without delay. He found him a shrinking, cowed, and +frightened culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore +firm in bearing, though in a false and dangerous position. + +"This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford," he said, on meeting the +lawyer--"a very bad business; and I have sent for you as a +professional gentleman of standing and ability, in order to have a +consultation in regard to my position--in fact, to place myself +wholly in your hands. I must have the best counsel, and therefore +take the earliest opportunity to secure your valuable services. Will +you undertake my case?" + +"That will depend, Mr. Dewey," was answered, "entirely upon how it +stands. If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your +innocence, I will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling +your accusers to the last. But if, on the contrary, you cannot show +clean hands, I am not the one to undertake your case." + +Dewey looked at Mr. Wallingford strangely. He scarcely comprehended +him. + +"I may have committed mistakes; all men are liable to error," he +replied. + +"Mistake is one thing, Mr. Dewey, and may be explained; fraud is +another thing, and cannot be explained to mean any thing else. What +I want you to understand, distinctly, is this: If your connection +with the Clinton Bank has been, from the beginning, just and +honorable, however much it may now seem to be otherwise, I will +undertake your case, and conduct it, I care not through how great +difficulties, to a favorable issue. But if it has not been--and you +know how it stands--do not commit your fate to me, for I will +abandon you the moment I discover that you have been guilty of +deliberate wrong to others." + +The countenance of Mr. Dewey fell, and he seemed to shudder back +into himself. For some time he was silent. + +"If there is a foregone conclusion in your mind, that settles the +matter," he said, at length, in a disappointed tone. + +"All I ask is clear evidence, Mr. Dewey. Foregone conclusions have +nothing to do with the matter," replied Mr. Wallingford, "If you +know yourself to be innocent, you may trust yourself in my hands; if +not, I counsel you to look beyond me to some other man." + +"All men are liable to do wrong, Mr. Wallingford; and religion +teaches that the door of repentance is open to every one." + +"True, but the just punishment of wrong is always needed for a +salutary repentance. The contrition that springs from fear of +consequences, is not genuine repentance. If you have done wrong, you +must take the penalty in some shape, and I am not the man knowingly +to stay the just progression of either moral or civil law." + +"Will you accept a retaining fee, even if not active in my case?" +asked Mr. Dewey. + +"No," was the emphatic answer. + +A dark, despairing shadow fell over the miserable man's face, and he +turned himself away from the only being towards whom he had looked +with any hope in this great extremity of his life. + +Mr. Wallingford retired with pity in his heart. The spectacle was +one of the most painful he had ever witnessed. How was the mighty +fallen!--the proud brought low! As he walked from the prison, the +Psalmist's striking words passed through his mind--"I have seen the +wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree; +yet he passed away, and lo, he was not." + +When the day of trial came, Mr. Wallingford appeared as counsel for +the creditors of the Clinton Bank, on the side of the prosecution. +He did not show any eagerness to gain his case against the prisoner; +but the facts were so strong, and all the links in the chain of +evidence so clear, that conviction was inevitable. A series of +frauds and robberies was exposed, that filled the community with +surprise and indignation; and when the jury, after a brief +consultation, brought in a verdict of guilty, the expression of +delight was general. Detestation of the man's crimes took away all +pity from the common sentiment in regard to him. A sentence of five +years' expiation in the State prison closed the career of Ralph +Dewey in S-----, and all men said: "The retribution is just." + +Squire Floyd lost everything, and narrowly escaped the charge of +complicity with Dewey. Nothing but the fact of their known +antagonism for some two or three years, turned the public mind in +his favor, and enabled him to show that what appeared collusion, was +only, so far as he was concerned, fair business operations. With the +wreck of his fortune he came very near making also a wreck of his +good name. Even as it was, there were some in S----who thought the +Squire had, in some things, gone far beyond the rule of strict +integrity. + +Judge Bigelow, thanks to the timely and resolute intervention of Mr. +Wallingford, stood far away from the crashing wrecks, when the storm +swept down in fearful devastation. It raged around, but did not +touch him; for he was safely sheltered, and beyond its reach. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + + + +Two years have passed since these disastrous events; and twenty +years since the opening of our story. The causes at work in the +beginning, have wrought out their legitimate effects--the tree has +ripened its fruits--the harvest has been gathered. The quiet of old +times has fallen upon S----. It was only a week ago that steps were +taken to set the long silent mills in motion. A company, formed in +Boston, has purchased the lower mill, and rented from Mr. +Wallingford the upper one, which was built on the Allen estate. +Squire Floyd, I learn, is to be the manager here for the company. I +am glad of this. Poor man! He was stripped of everything, and has +been, for the past two years, in destitute circumstances. How he has +contrived to live, is almost a mystery. The elegant house which he +had built for himself was taken and sold by creditors, with the +furniture, plate, and all things pertaining thereto, and, +broken-spirited, he retired to a small tenement on the outskirts of +the town, where he has since lived. His unhappy daughter, with her +two children, are with him. Her son, old enough to be put to some +business, she has placed in a store, where he is earning enough to +pay his board; while she and her daughter take in what sewing they +can obtain, in order to lessen, as far as possible, the burden of +their maintenance. Alas for her that the father of those children +should be a convicted felon! + +I move about through S----on my round of duties, and daily there +comes to me some reminder of the events and changes of twenty years. +I see, here and there, a stranded wreck, and think how proudly the +vessel spread her white sails in the wind a few short years gone by, +freighted with golden hopes. But where are those treasures now? +Lost, lost forever in the fathomless sea! + +Twenty years ago, and now! As a man soweth, even so shall he reap. +Spring time loses itself in luxuriant summer, and autumn follows +with the sure result. If the seed has been good, the fruit will be +good; but if a man have sown only tares in his fields, he must reap +in sorrow and not in joy. There is no exception to the rule. A +bramble bush can no more bear grapes, than a selfish and evil life +can produce happiness. The one is a natural, and the other a +spiritual, impossibility. + +A few days ago, as I was riding along on a visit to one of my +patients, I met Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford, with two of their +children, driving out in their carriage. They stopped, and we were +passing a few pleasant words, when there came by two persons, +plainly, almost coarsely dressed--a mother and her daughter. Both +had bundles in their hands. Over the mother's face a veil was drawn, +and as she passed, with evidently quickening steps, she turned +herself partly away. The daughter looked at us steadily from her +calm blue eyes, in which you saw a shade of sadness, as though +already many hopes had failed. Her face was pale and placid, but +touched you with its expression of half-concealed suffering, as if, +young as she was, some lessons of pain and endurance had already +been learned. + +"Who are they?" asked Mrs. Wallingford. + +"Delia Floyd and her daughter," said I. + +No remark was made. If my ears did not deceive me, I heard a faint +sigh pass the lips of Mr. Wallingford. + +I spoke to my horse, and, bowing mutually, we passed on our ways. + +"Twenty years ago, and now!" said I to myself, falling into a sober +mood, as thought went back to the sweet, fragrant morning of Delia's +life, and I saw it in contrast with this dreary autumn. "If the +young would only take a lesson like this to heart!" + +In the evening, Mr. Wallingford called to see me. + +"I have not been able, all day," said he, "to get the image of that +poor woman and her daughter out of my mind. What are their +circumstances, Doctor?" + +"They live with Squire Floyd," I answered, "and he is very poor. I +think Delia and her daughter support themselves by their needles." + +"What a fall!" he said, with pity in his tones. + +"Yes, it was a sad fall--sad, but salutary, I trust." + +"How was she after her separation from Mr. Dewey?" + +"Very bitter and rebellious, for a time. His marriage seemed to +arouse every evil passion of her nature. I almost shuddered to hear +the maledictions she called down upon the head of his wife one day, +when she rode by in the elegant equipage of which she had once been +the proud owner. She fairly trembled with rage. Since then, the +discipline of the inevitable in life has done its better work. She +has grown subdued and patient, and is doing all a mother in such +narrow circumstances can do for her children." + +"What of Dewey's second wife?" asked Mr. Wallingford. + +"She has applied for a divorce from him, on the ground that he is a +convicted felon; and will get a decree in her favor, without doubt." + +"What a history!" he exclaimed. Then, after a pause, he asked-- + +"Cannot something be done for Mr. Floyd?" + +"I have understood," said I, "that the company about to start the +mills again have engaged him as manager." + +"Is that so? Just what I was thinking," he replied, with animation. +"I must look after that matter, and see that it does not fall +through." + +And he was in this, as in all things, as good as his word. It needed +only a favorable intimation from him to decide the company to place +their works in the hands of Squire Floyd, who was a man of skill and +experience in manufacturing, and one in whose integrity the fullest +confidence might be reposed. + +A month has passed; and Squire Floyd, engaged at a salary of two +thousand dollars a year, is again at the mills, busy in +superintending repairs, improvements, and additions. A few more +weeks, and the rattle of industry will commence, and the old aspect +of things show itself in S----. May the new mill owners be wiser +than their predecessors! + +Squire Floyd has removed from the poor tenement lately the home of +his depressed family, and is back in the pleasant homestead he +abandoned years ago, when pride and ambition impelled him to put on +a grander exterior. It is understood that the company have bought +the house, and rent it to him at a very moderate price. My own +impression is, that Mr. Wallingford has more to do in the matter +than people imagine. I am strengthened in this view, from the fact +of having seen Mrs. Wallingford call at the Squire's twice during +the past week. They are in good hands, and I see a better future in +store for them. + +And now, reader, you have the story I wished to tell. It is full of +suggestion to all who are starting forth upon life's perilous +journey. Let truth, honor, integrity, and humanity, govern all your +actions. Do not make haste to be rich, lest you fall into divers +temptations. Keep always close to the right; and always bear in mind +that no wrong is ever done that does not, sooner or later, return +upon the wrong-doer. + +And above all, gentle maiden, be not dazzled by the condition or +prospect of any who seek your hand. + +Look away, down, deeply into the character, disposition, and +quality; and if these are not of good seeming, shun the proffered +alliance as you would death. Better, a thousand times, pass through +life alone than wed yourself to inevitable misery. So heeding the +moralist, you will not, in the harvest time which comes to all, look +in despair over your barren fields, but find them golden with +Autumn's treasures, that shall fill your granaries and crown your +latter days with blessing. + +The End. +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Allen House, or Twenty Years Ago and Now +by T. S. Arthur +******This file should be named tahty10.txt or tahty10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, tahty11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tahty10a.txt + +This etext was created by Charles Aldarondo (Aldarondo@yahoo.com) + +*** + +More information about this book is at the top of this file. + + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. 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