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diff --git a/4923.txt b/4923.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..781cd0c --- /dev/null +++ b/4923.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11536 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of King Midas, by Upton Sinclair + +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: King Midas + +Author: Upton Sinclair + + +Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4923] +This file was first posted on March 27, 2002 +Last Updated: April 27, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KING MIDAS *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + + + + + + + +KING MIDAS + +A ROMANCE + +By Upton Sinclair + + + I dreamed that Soul might dare the pain, + Unlike the prince of old, + And wrest from heaven the fiery touch + That turns all things to gold. + + +New York and London + +1901 + + + +NOTE + + +In the course of this story, the author has had occasion to refer to +Beethoven's Sonata Appassionata as containing a suggestion of the +opening theme of the Fifth Symphony. He has often seen this stated, +and believed that the statement was generally accepted as true. +Since writing, however, he has heard the opinion expressed, by a +musician who is qualified to speak as an authority, that the two +themes have nothing to do with each other. The author himself is not +competent to have an opinion on the subject, but because the +statement as first made is closely bound up with the story, he has +allowed it to stand unaltered. + +The two extracts from MacDowell's "Woodland Sketches," on pages 214 +and 291, are reprinted with the kind permission of Professor +MacDowell and of Arthur P. Schmidt, publisher. + + + + +PART I + + +In the merry month of May. + + +KING MIDAS + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + "O Madchen, Madchen, + Wie lieb' ich dich!" + +It was that time of year when all the world belongs to poets, for +their harvest of joy; when those who seek the country not for +beauty, but for coolness, have as yet thought nothing about it, and +when those who dwell in it all the time are too busy planting for +another harvest to have any thought of poets; so that the latter, +and the few others who keep something in their hearts to chime with +the great spring-music, have the woods and waters all for their own +for two joyful months, from the time that the first snowy bloodroot +has blossomed, until the wild rose has faded and nature has no more +to say. In those two months there are two weeks, the ones that usher +in the May, that bear the prize of all the year for glory; the +commonest trees wear green and silver then that would outshine a +coronation robe, and if a man has any of that prodigality of spirit +which makes imagination, he may hear the song of all the world. + +It was on such a May morning in the midst of a great forest of pine +trees, one of those forests whose floors are moss-covered ruins that +give to them the solemnity of age and demand humility from those who +walk within their silences. There was not much there to tell of the +springtime, for the pines are unsympathetic, but it seemed as if all +the more wealth had been flung about on the carpeting beneath. Where +the moss was not were flowing beds of fern, and the ground was +dotted with slender harebells and the dusty, half-blossomed +corydalis, while from all the rocks the bright red lanterns of the +columbine were dangling. + +Of the beauty so wonderfully squandered there was but one witness, a +young man who was walking slowly along, stepping as it seemed where +there were no flowers; and who, whenever he stopped to gaze at a +group of them, left them unmolested in their happiness. He was tall +and slenderly built, with a pale face shadowed by dark hair; he was +clad in black, and carried in one hand a half-open book, which, +however, he seemed to have forgotten. + +A short distance ahead was a path, scarcely marked except where the +half-rotted trees were trodden through. Down this the young man +turned, and a while later, as his ear was caught by the sound of +falling water, he quickened his steps a trifle, until he came to a +little streamlet which flowed through the forest, taking for its bed +the fairest spot in that wonderland of beauty. It fled from rock to +rock covered with the brightest of bright green moss and with tender +fern that was but half uncurled, and it flashed in the sunlit places +and tinkled from the deep black shadows, ever racing faster as if to +see what more the forest had to show. The young man's look had been +anxious before, but he brightened in spite of himself in the company +of the streamlet. + +Not far beyond was a place where a tiny rill flowed down from the +high rocks above, and where the path broadened out considerably. It +was a darkly shadowed spot, and the little rill was gathered in a +sunken barrel, which the genius of the place had made haste to cover +with the green uniform worn by all else that was to be seen. Beside +the spring thus formed the young man seated himself, and after +glancing impatiently at his watch, turned his gaze upon the beauty +that was about him. Upon the neighboring rocks the columbine and +harebell held high revel, but he did not notice them so much as a +new sight that flashed upon his eye; for the pool where the two +streamlets joined was like a nest which the marsh-marigold had taken +for its home. The water was covered with its bright green and +yellow, and the young man gazed at the blossoms with eager delight, +until finally he knelt and plucked a few of them, which he laid, +cool and gleaming, upon the seat by the spring. + +The flowers did not hold his attention very long, however; he rose +up and turned away towards where, a few steps beyond, the open +country could be seen between the tree trunks. Beyond the edge of +the woods was a field, through which the footpath and the streamlet +both ran, the former to join a road leading to a little town which +lay in the distance. The landscape was beautiful in its morning +freshness, but it was not that which the young man thought of; he +had given but one glance before he started back with a slight +exclamation, his face turning paler. He stepped into the concealment +of the thick bushes at one side, where he stood gazing out, +motionless except for a slight trembling. Down the road he had seen +a white-clad figure just coming out of the village; it was too far +away to be recognized, but it was a young girl, walking with a quick +and springing step, and he seemed to know who it was. + +She had not gone very far before she came to a thick hedge which +lined the roadside and hid her from the other's view; he could not +see her again until she came to the place where the streamlet was +crossed by a bridge, and where the little path turned off towards +the forest. In the meantime he stood waiting anxiously; for when she +reached there he would see her plainly for the first time, and also +know if she were coming to the spring. She must have stopped to look +at something, for the other had almost started from his hiding place +in his eagerness when finally she swept past the bushes. She turned +down the path straight towards him, and he clasped his hands +together in delight as he gazed at her. + +And truly she was a very vision of the springtime, as she passed +down the meadows that were gleaming with their first sprinkling of +buttercups. She was clad in a dress of snowy white, which the wind +swept before her as she walked; and it had stolen one strand of her +golden hair to toss about and play with. She came with all the +eagerness and spring of the brooklet that danced beside her, her +cheeks glowing with health and filled with the laughter of the +morning. Surely, of all the flowers of the May-time there is none so +fair as the maiden. And the young man thought as he stood watching +her that in all the world there was no maiden so fair as this. + +She did not see him, for her eyes were lifted to a little bobolink +that had come flying down the wind. One does not hear the bobolink +at his best unless one goes to hear him; for sheer glorified +happiness there is in all our land no bird like him at the hour of +sunrise, when he is drunk with the morning breeze and the sight of +the dew-filled roses. At present a shower had just passed and the +bobolink may have thought that another dawn had come; or perhaps he +saw the maiden. At any rate, he perched himself upon the topmost +leaf of the maple tree, still half-flying, as if scorning even that +much support; and there he sang his song. First he gave his long +prelude that one does not often hear--a few notes a score of times +repeated, and growing swift and loud, and more and more strenuous +and insistent; as sometimes the orchestra builds up its climax, so +that the listener holds his breath and waits for something, he knows +not what. Then he paused a moment and turned his head to see if the +girl were watching, and filled his throat and poured out his +wonderful gushing music, with its watery and bell-like tone that +only the streamlet can echo, from its secret places underneath the +banks. Again and again he gave it forth, the white patches on his +wings flashing in the sunlight and both himself and his song one +thrill of joy. + +The girl's face was lit up with delight as she tripped down the +meadow path. A gust of wind came up behind her, and bowed the grass +and the flowers before her and swung the bird upon the tree; and so +light was the girl's step that it seemed to lift her and sweep her +onward. As it grew stronger she stretched out her arms to it and +half leaned upon it and flung her head back for the very fullness of +her happiness. The wind tossed her skirts about her, and stole +another tress of hair, and swung the lily which she had plucked and +which she carried in her hand. It is only when one has heard much +music that he understands the morning wind, and knows that it is a +living thing about which he can say such things as that; one needs +only to train his ear and he can hear its footsteps upon the +meadows, and hear it calling to him from the tops of the trees. + +The girl was the very spirit of the wind at that moment, and she +seemed to feel that some music was needed. She glanced up again at +the bobolink, who had ceased his song; she nodded to him once as if +for a challenge, and then, still leaning back upon the breeze, and +keeping time with the flower in her hand, she broke out into a happy +song: + + "I heard a streamlet gushing + From out its rocky bed, + Far down the valley rushing, + So fresh and clear it sped." + +But then, as if even Schubert were not equal to the fullness of her +heart, or because the language of joy has no words, she left the +song unfinished and swept on in a wild carol that rose and swelled +and made the forest echo. The bobolink listened and then flew on to +listen again, while still the girl poured out her breathless music, +a mad volley of soaring melody; it seemed fairly to lift her from +her feet, and she was half dancing as she went. There came another +gust of wind and took her in its arms; and the streamlet fled before +her; and thus the three, in one wild burst of happiness, swept into +the woodland together. + +There in its shadows the girl stopped short, her song cut in half by +the sight of the old forest in its majesty. One could not have +imagined a greater contrast than the darkness and silence which +dwelt beneath the vast canopy, and she gazed about her in rapture, +first at the trees and then at the royal carpet of green, starred +with its fields of flowers. Her breast heaved, and she stretched out +her arms as if she would have clasped it all to her. + +"Oh, it is so beautiful!" she cried aloud. "It is so beautiful!" + +In the meantime the young man, still unseen, had been standing in +the shadow of the bushes, drinking in the sight. The landscape and +the figure and the song had all faded from his thoughts, or rather +blended themselves as a halo about one thing, the face of this girl. +For it was one of those faces that a man may see once in a lifetime +and keep as a haunting memory ever afterwards, as a vision of the +sweetness and glory of woman; at this moment it was a face +transfigured with rapture, and the man who was gazing upon it was +trembling, and scarcely aware of where he was. + +For fully a minute more the girl stood motionless, gazing about at +the forest; then she chanced to look towards the spring, where she +saw the flowers upon the seat. + +"Why, someone has left a nosegay!" she exclaimed, as she started +forward; but that seemed to suggest another thought to her, and she +looked around. As she did so she caught sight of the young man and +sprang towards him. "Why, Arthur! You here!" she cried. + +The other started forward as if he would have clasped her in his +arms; but then recollecting himself he came forward very slowly, +half lowering his eyes before the girl's beauty. + +"So you recollect me, Helen, do you?" he said, in a low voice. + +"Recollect you?" was the answer. "Why, you dear, foolish boy, of +course I recollect you. But how in the world do you come to be +here?" + +"I came here to see you, Helen." + +"To see me?" exclaimed she. "But pray how--" and then she stopped, +and a look of delight swept across her face. "You mean that you knew +I would come here the first thing?" + +"I do indeed." + +"Why, that was beautiful!" she exclaimed. "I am so glad I did come." + +The glance which she gave made his heart leap up; for a moment or +two they were silent, looking at each other, and then suddenly +another thought struck the girl. "Arthur," she cried, "I forgot! Do +you mean to tell me that you have come all the way from Hilltown?" + +"Yes, Helen." + +"And just to see me?" + +"Yes, Helen." + +"And this morning?" + +She received the same answer again. "It is twelve miles," she +exclaimed; "who ever heard of such a thing? You must be tired to +death." + +She put out her hand, which he took tremblingly. + +"Let us go sit down on the bench," she said, "and then we can talk +about things. I am perfectly delighted that you came," she added +when she had seated herself, with the marigolds and the lily in her +lap. "It will seem just like old times; just think how long ago it +was that I saw you last, Arthur,--three whole years! And do you +know, as I left the town I thought of you, and that I might find you +here." + +The young man's face flushed with pleasure. + +"But I'd forgotten you since!" went on the girl, eyeing him +mischievously; "for oh, I was so happy, coming down the old, old +path, and seeing all the old sights! Things haven't changed a bit, +Arthur; the woods look exactly the same, and the bridge hasn't +altered a mite since the days we used to sit on the edge and let our +feet hang in. Do you remember that, Arthur?" + +"Perfectly," was the answer. + +"And that was over a dozen years ago! How old are you now, +Arthur,--twenty-one--no, twenty-two; and I am just nineteen. To-day +is my birthday, you know!" + +"I had not forgotten it, Helen." + +"You came to welcome me! And so did everything else. Do you know, I +don't think I'd ever been so happy in my life as I was just now. For +I thought the old trees greeted me, and the bridge, and the stream! +And I'm sure that was the same bobolink! They don't have any +bobolinks in Germany, and so that one was the first I have heard in +three years. You heard him, didn't you, Arthur?" + +"I did--at first," said Arthur. + +"And then you heard me, you wicked boy! You heard me come in here +singing and talking to myself like a mad creature! I don't think I +ever felt so like singing before; they make hard work out of singing +and everything else in Germany, you know, so I never sang out of +business hours; but I believe I could sing all day now, because I'm +so happy." + +"Go on," said the other, seriously; "I could listen." + +"No; I want to talk to you just now," said Helen. "You should have +kept yourself hidden and then you'd have heard all sorts of +wonderful things that you'll never have another chance to hear. For +I was just going to make a speech to the forest, and I think I +should have kissed each one of the flowers. You might have put it +all into a poem,--for oh, father tells me you're going to be a great +poet!" + +"I'm going to try," said Arthur, blushing. + +"Just think how romantic that would be!" the girl laughed; "and I +could write your memoir and tell all I knew about you. Tell me about +yourself, Arthur--I don't mean for the memoir, but because I want to +know the news." + +"There isn't any, Helen, except that I finished college last spring, +as I wrote you, and I'm teaching school at Hilltown." + +"And you like it?" + +"I hate it; but I have to keep alive, to try to be a poet. And that +is the news about myself." + +"Except," added Helen, "that you walked twelve miles this glorious +Saturday morning to welcome me home, which was beautiful. And of +course you'll stay over Sunday, now you're here; I can invite you +myself, you know, for I've come home to take the reins of +government. You never saw such a sight in your life as my poor +father has made of our house; he's got the parlor all full of those +horrible theological works of his, just as if God had never made +anything beautiful! And since I've been away that dreadful Mrs. Dale +has gotten complete charge of the church, and she's one of those +creatures that wouldn't allow you to burn a candle in the organ +loft; and father never was of any use for quarreling about things." +(Helen's father, the Reverend Austin Davis, was the rector of the +little Episcopal church in the town of Oakdale just across the +fields.) "I only arrived last night," the girl prattled on, venting +her happiness in that way instead of singing; "but I hunted up two +tallow candles in the attic, and you shall see them in church +to-morrow. If there's any complaint about the smell, I'll tell Mrs. +Dale we ought to have incense, and she'll get so excited about that +that I'll carry the candles by default. I'm going to institute other +reforms also,--I'm going to make the choir sing in tune!" + +"If you will only sing as you were singing just now, nobody will +hear the rest of the choir," vowed the young man, who during her +remarks had never taken his eyes off the girl's radiant face. + +Helen seemed not to notice it, for she had been arranging the +marigolds; now she was drying them with her handkerchief before +fastening them upon her dress. + +"You ought to learn to sing yourself," she said while she bent her +head down at that task. "Do you care for music any more than you +used to?" + +"I think I shall care for it just as I did then," was the answer, +"whenever you sing it." + +"Pooh!" said Helen, looking up from her marigolds; "the idea of a +dumb poet anyway, a man who cannot sing his own songs! Don't you +know that if you could sing and make yourself gloriously happy as I +was just now, and as I mean to be some more, you could write poetry +whenever you wish." + +"I can believe that," said Arthur. + +"Then why haven't you ever learned? Our English poets have all been +ridiculous creatures about music, any how; I don't believe there was +one in this century, except Browning, that really knew anything +about it, and all their groaning and pining for inspiration was +nothing in the world but a need of some music; I was reading the +'Palace of Art' only the other day, and there was that 'lordly +pleasure house' with all its modern improvements, and without a +sound of music. Of course the poor soul had to go back to the +suffering world, if it were only to hear a hand-organ again." + +"That is certainly a novel theory," admitted the young poet. "I +shall come to you when I need inspiration." + +"Come and bring me your songs," added the girl, "and I will sing +them to you. You can write me a poem about that brook, for one +thing. I was thinking just as I came down the road that if I were a +poet I should have beautiful things to say to that brook. Will you +do it for me?" + +"I have already tried to write one," said the young man, +hesitatingly. + +"A song?" asked Helen. + +"Yes." + +"Oh, good! And I shall make some music for it; will you tell it to +me?" + +"When?" + +"Now, if you can remember it," said Helen. "Can you?" + +"If you wish it," said Arthur, simply; "I wrote it two or three +months ago, when the country was different from now." + +He fumbled in his pocket for some papers, and then in a low tone he +read these words to the girl: + +AT MIDNIGHT + + The burden of the winter + The year haa borne too long, + And oh, my heart is weary + For a springtime song! + + The moonbeams shrink unwelcomed + From the frozen lake; + Of all the forest voices + There is but one awake + + I seek thee, happy streamlet + That murmurest on thy way, + As a child in troubled slumber + Still dreaming of its play; + + I ask thee where in thy journey + Thou seeest so fair a sight, + That thou hast joy and singing + All through the winter night. + +Helen was silent for a few moments, then she said, "I think that is +beautiful, Arthur; but it is not what I want." + +"Why not?" he asked. + +"I should have liked it when you wrote it, but now the spring has +come, and we must be happy. You have heard the springtime song." + +"Yes," said Arthur, "and the streamlet has led me to the beautiful +sight." + +"It _is_ beautiful," said Helen, gazing about her with that naive +unconsciousness which "every wise man's son doth know" is one thing +he may never trust in a woman. "It could not be more beautiful," she +added, "and you must write me something about it, instead of +wandering around our pasture-pond on winter nights till your +imagination turns it into a frozen lake." + +The young poet put away his papers rather suddenly at that, and +Helen, after gazing at him for a moment, and laughing to herself, +sprang up from the seat. + +"Come!" she cried, "why are we sitting here, anyway, talking about +all sorts of things, and forgetting the springtime altogether? I +haven't been half as happy yet as I mean to be." + +She seemed to have forgotten her friend's twelve mile walk; but he +had forgotten it too, just as he soon forgot the rather wintry +reception of his little song. It was not possible for him to remain +dull very long in the presence of the girl's glowing energy; for +once upon her feet, Helen's dancing mood seemed to come back to her, +if indeed it had ever more than half left her. The brooklet struck +up the measure again, and the wind shook the trees far above them, +to tell that it was still awake, and the girl was the very spirit of +the springtime once more. + +"Oh, Arthur," she said as she led him down the path, "just think how +happy I ought to be, to welcome all the old things after so long, +and to find them all so beautiful; it is just as if the country had +put on its finest dress to give me greeting, and I feel as if I were +not half gay enough in return. Just think what this springtime is, +how all over the country everything is growing and rejoicing; _that_ +is what I want you to put into the poem for me." + +And so she led him on into the forest, carried on by joy herself, +and taking all things into her song. She did not notice that the +young man's forehead was flushed, or that his hand was burning when +she took it in hers as they walked; if she noticed it, she chose at +any rate to pretend not to. She sang to him about the forest and the +flowers, and some more of the merry song which she had sung before; +then she stopped to shake her head at a saucy adder's tongue that +thrust its yellow face up through the dead leaves at her feet, and +to ask that wisest-looking of all flowers what secrets it knew about +the spring-time. Later on they came to a place where the brook fled +faster, sparkling brightly in the sunlight over its shallow bed of +pebbles; it was only her runaway caroling that could keep pace with +that, and so her glee mounted higher, the young man at her side half +in a trance, watching her laughing face and drinking in the sound of +her voice. + +How long that might have lasted there is no telling, had it not been +that the woods came to an end, disclosing more open fields and a +village beyond. "We'd better not go any farther," said Helen, +laughing; "if any of the earth creatures should hear us carrying on +they would not know it was 'Trunkenheit ohne Wein.'" + +She stretched out her hand to her companion, and led him to a seat +upon a fallen log nearby. "Poor boy," she said, "I forgot that you +were supposed to be tired." + +"It does not make any difference," was the reply; "I hadn't thought +of it." + +"There's no need to walk farther," said Helen, "for I've seen all +that I wish to see. How dear this walk ought to be to us, Arthur!" + +"I do not know about you, Helen," said the young man, "but it has +been dear to me indeed. I could not tell you how many times I have +walked over it, all alone, since you left; and I used to think about +the many times I had walked it with you. You haven't forgotten, +Helen, have you?" + +"No," said Helen. + +"Not one?" + +"Not one." + +The young man was resting his head upon his hand and gazing steadily +at the girl. + +"Do you remember, Helen--?" He stopped; and she turned with her +bright clear eyes and gazed into his. + +"Remember what?" she asked. + +"Do you remember the last time we took it, Helen?" + +She flushed a trifle, and half involuntarily turned her glance away +again. + +"Do you remember?" he asked again, seeing that she was silent. + +"Yes, I remember," said the girl, her voice lower--"But I'd rather +you did not--." She stopped short. + +"You wish to forget it, Helen?" asked Arthur. + +He was trembling with anxiety, and his hands, which were clasped +about his knee, were twitching. "Oh, Helen, how can you?" he went +on, his voice breaking. "Do you not remember the last night that we +sat there by the spring, and you were going away, no one knew for +how long--and how you told me that it was more than you could bear; +and the promise that you made me? Oh, Helen!" + +The girl gazed at him with a frightened look; he had sunk down upon +his knee before her, and he caught her hand which lay upon the log +at her side. + +"Helen!" he cried, "you cannot mean to forget that? For that promise +has been the one joy of my life, that for which I have labored so +hard! My one hope, Helen! I came to-day to claim it, to tell you--" + +And with a wild glance about her, the girl sprang to her feet, +snatching her hand away from his. + +"Arthur!" she cried; "Arthur, you must not speak to me so!" + +"I must not, Helen?" + +"No, no," she cried, trembling; "we were only children, and we did +not know the meaning of the words we used. You must not talk to me +that way, Arthur." + +"Helen!" he protested, helplessly. + +"No, no, I will not allow it!" she cried more vehemently, stepping +back as he started towards her, and holding close to her the hand he +had held. "I had no idea there was such a thought in your mind--" + +Helen stopped, breathlessly. + +"--or you would not have been so kind to me?" the other added +faintly. + +"I thought of you as an old friend," said Helen. "I was but a child +when I went away. I wish you still to be a friend, Arthur; but you +must not act in that way." + +The young man glanced once at her, and when he saw the stern look +upon her face he buried his head in his arms without a sound. + +For fully a minute they remained thus, in silence; then as Helen +watched him, her chest ceased gradually to heave, and a gentler look +returned to her face. She came and sat down on the log again. + +"Arthur," she said after another silence, "can we not just be +friends?" + +The young man answered nothing, but he raised his head and gazed at +her; and she saw that there were tears in his eyes, and a look of +mute helplessness upon his face. She trembled slightly, and rose to +her feet again. + +"Arthur," she said gravely, "this must not be; we must not sit here +any longer. I must go." + +"Helen!" exclaimed the other, springing up. + +But he saw her brow knit again, and he stopped short. The girl gazed +about her, and the village in the distance caught her eye. + +"Listen," she said, with forced calmness; "I promised father that I +would go and see old Mrs. Woodward, who was asking for me. You may +wait here, if you like, and walk home with me, for I shall not be +gone very long. Will you do it?" + +The other gazed at her for a moment or two; he was trying to read +the girl's heart, but he saw only the quiet firmness of her +features. + +"Will you wait, Arthur?" she asked again. + +And Arthur's head sank upon his breast. "Yes, Helen," he said. When +he lifted it again, the girl was gone; she had disappeared in the +thicket, and he could hear her footsteps as she passed swiftly down +the hillside. + +He went to the edge of the woods, where he could see her a short +distance below, hurrying down the path with a step as light and free +as ever. The wind had met her at the forest's edge and joined her +once more, playing about her skirts and tossing the lily again. As +Arthur watched her, the old music came back into his heart; his eyes +sparkled, and all his soul seemed to be dancing in time with her +light motion. Thus it went until she came to a place where the path +must hide her from his view. The young man held his breath, and when +she turned a cry of joy escaped him; she saw him and waved her hand +to him gaily as she swept on out of his sight. + +For a moment afterwards he stood rooted to the spot, then whirled +about and laughed aloud. He put his hand to his forehead, which was +flushed and hot, and he gazed about him, as if he were not sure +where he was. "Oh, she is so beautiful!" he cried, his face a +picture of rapture. "So beautiful!" + +And he started through the forest as wildly as any madman, now +muttering to himself and now laughing aloud and making the forest +echo with Helen's name. When he stopped again he was far away from +the path, in a desolate spot, but tho he was staring around him, he +saw no more than before. Trembling had seized his limbs, and he sank +down upon the yellow forest leaves, hiding his face in his hands and +whispering, "Oh, if I should lose her! If I should lose her!" As old +Polonius has it, truly it was "the very ecstasy of love." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +"A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay." + +The town of Oakdale is at the present time a flourishing place, +inhabited principally by "suburbanites," for it lies not very far +from New York; but the Reverend Austin Davis, who was the spiritual +guardian of most of them, had come to Oakdale some twenty and more +years ago, when it was only a little village, with a struggling +church which it was the task of the young clergyman to keep alive. +Perhaps the growth of the town had as much to do with his success as +his own efforts; but however that might have been he had received +his temporal reward some ten years later, in the shape of a fine +stone church, with a little parsonage beside it. He had lived there +ever since, alone with his one child,--for just after coming to +Oakdale he had married a daughter of one of the wealthy families of +the neighborhood, and been left a widower a year or two later. + +A more unromantic and thoroughly busy man than Mr. Davis at the age +of forty-five, when this story begins, it would not have been easy +to find; but nevertheless people spoke of no less than two romances +that had been connected with his life. One of them had been his +early marriage, which had created a mild sensation, while the other +had come into his life even sooner, in fact on the very first day of +his arrival at Oakdale. + +Mr. Davis could still bring back to his mind with perfect clearness +the first night he had spent in the little wooden cottage which he +had hired for his residence; how while busily unpacking his trunk +and trying to bring the disordered place into shape, he had opened +the door in answer to a knock and beheld a woman stagger in out of +the storm. She was a young girl, surely not yet out of her teens, +her pale and sunken face showing marks of refinement and of former +beauty. She carried in her arms a child of about a year's age, and +she dropped it upon the sofa and sank down beside it, half fainting +from exhaustion. The young clergyman's anxious inquiries having +succeeded in eliciting but incoherent replies, he had left the room +to procure some nourishment for the exhausted woman; it was upon his +return that the discovery of the romance alluded to was made, for +the woman had disappeared in the darkness and storm, and the baby +was still lying upon the sofa. + +It was not altogether a pleasant romance, as is probably the case +with a good many romances in reality. Mr. Davis was destined to +retain for a long time a vivid recollection of the first night which +he spent in alternately feeding that baby with a spoon, and in +walking the floor with it; and also to remember the sly glances +which his parishioners only half hid from him when his unpleasant +plight was made known. + +It happened that the poorhouse at Hilltown near by, to which the +infant would have gone if he had left it to the care of the county, +was at that time being "investigated," with all that the name +implies when referring to public matters; the clergy of the +neighborhood being active in pushing the charges, Mr. Davis felt +that at present it would look best for him to provide for the child +himself. As the investigation came to nothing, the inducement was +made a permanent one; perhaps also the memory of the mother's wan +face had something to do with the matter. At any rate the young +clergyman, tho but scantily provided for himself, managed to spare +enough to engage a woman in the town to take care of the young +charge. Subsequently when Mr. Davis' wife died the woman became +Helen's nurse, and so it was that Arthur, as the baby boy had been +christened, became permanently adopted into the clergyman's little +family. + +It had not been possible to keep from Arthur the secret of his +parentage, and the fact that it was known to all served to keep him +aloof from the other children of the town, and to drive him still +more to the confidence of Helen. One of the phrases which Mr. Davis +had caught from the mother's lips had been that the boy was a +"gentleman's son;" and Helen was wont to solace him by that +reminder. Perhaps the phrase, constantly repeated, had much to do +with the proud sensitiveness and the resolute independence which +soon manifested itself in the lad's character. He had scarcely +passed the age of twelve before, tho treated by Mr. Davis with the +love and kindness of a father, he astonished the good man by +declaring that he was old enough to take care of himself; and tho +Mr. Davis was better situated financially by that time, nothing that +he could say could alter the boy's quiet determination to leave +school and be independent, a resolution in which he was seconded by +Helen, a little miss of some nine years. The two children had talked +it over for months, as it appeared, and concluded that it was best +to sacrifice in the cause of honor the privilege of going to school +together, and of spending the long holidays roaming about the +country. + +So the lad had served with childish dignity, first as an errand boy, +and then as a store clerk, always contributing his mite of "board" +to Mr. Davis' household expenses; meanwhile, possibly because he was +really "a gentleman's son," and had inherited a taste for study, he +had made by himself about as much progress as if he had been at +school. Some years later, to the delight of Helen and Mr. Davis, he +had carried off a prize scholarship above the heads of the graduates +of the Hilltown High School, and still refusing all help, had gone +away to college, to support himself there while studying by such +work as he could find, knowing well that a true gentleman's son is +ashamed of nothing honest. + +He spent his vacations at home, where he and Helen studied +together,--or such rather had been his hope; it was realized only +for the first year. + +Helen had an aunt upon her mother's side, a woman of wealth and +social position, who owned a large country home near Oakdale, and +who was by no means inclined to view with the complacency of Mr. +Davis the idyllic friendship of the two young people. Mrs. Roberts, +or "Aunt Polly" as she was known to the family, had plans of her own +concerning the future of the beauty which she saw unfolding itself +at the Oakdale parsonage. She said nothing to Mr. Davis, for he, +being busy with theological works and charitable organizations, was +not considered a man from whom one might hope for proper ideas about +life. But with her own more practical husband she had frequently +discussed the danger, and the possible methods of warding it off. + +To send Helen to a boarding school would have been of no use, for +the vacations were the times of danger; so it was that the trip +abroad was finally decided upon. Aunt Polly, having traveled +herself, had a wholesome regard for German culture, believing that +music and things of that sort were paying investments. It chanced, +also, that her own eldest daughter, who was a year older than Helen, +was about through with all that American teachers had to impart; and +so after much argument with Mr. Davis, it was finally arranged that +she and Helen should study in Germany together. Just when poor +Arthur was returning home with the sublime title of junior, his +dream of all things divine was carried off by Aunt Polly, and after +a summer spent in "doing" Europe, was installed in a girl's school +in Leipzig. + +And now, three years having passed, Helen has left her cousin for +another year of travel, and returned home in all the glory of her +own springtime and of Nature's; which brings us to where we left +her, hurrying away to pay a duty call in the little settlement on +the hillside. + +The visit had not been entirely a subterfuge, for Helen's father had +mentioned to her that the elderly person whom she had named to +Arthur was expecting to see her when she returned, and Helen had +been troubled by the thought that she would never have any peace +until she had paid that visit. It was by no means an agreeable one, +for old Mrs. Woodward was exceedingly dull, and Helen felt that she +was called upon to make war upon dullness. However, it had occurred +to her to get her task out of the way at once, while she felt that +she ought to leave Arthur. + +The visit proved to be quite as depressing as she had expected, for +it is sad to have to record that Helen, however sensitive to the +streamlet and the flowers, had not the least sympathy in the world +for an old woman who had a very sharp chin, who stared at one +through two pairs of spectacles, and whose conversation was about +her own health and the dampness of the springtime, besides the +dreariest gossip about Oakdale's least interesting people. Perhaps +it might have occurred to the girl that it is very forlorn to have +nothing else to talk about, and that even old Mrs. Woodward might +have liked to hear about some of the things in the forest, or to +have been offered the lily and the marigold. Unfortunately, however, +Helen did not think about any of that, but only moved restlessly +about in her chair and gazed around the ugly room. Finally when she +could stand it no more, she sprang up between two of Mrs. Woodward's +longest sentences and remarked that it was very late and a long way +home, and that she would come again some time. + +Then at last when she was out in the open air, she drew a deep +breath and fled away to the woods, wondering what could be God's +reason for such things. It was not until she was half way up the +hillside that she could feel that the wind, which blew now upon her +forehead, had quite swept away the depression which had settled upon +her. She drank in the odors which blew from the woods, and began +singing to herself again, and looking out for Arthur. + +She was rather surprised not to see him at once, and still more +surprised when she came nearer and raised her voice to call him; for +she reached the forest and came to the place where she had left him +without a reply having come. She shouted his name again and again, +until at last, not without a half secret chagrin to have been so +quickly forgotten, she was obliged to set out for home alone. + +"Perhaps he's gone on ahead," she thought, quickening her pace. + +For a time she watched anxiously, expecting to see his darkly clad +figure; but she soon wearied of continued failure, and because it +was her birthday, and because the brook was still at her side and +the beautiful forest still about her, she took to singing again, and +was quickly as happy and glorious as before, ceasing her caroling +and moderating her woodland pace only when she neared the town. She +passed down the main street of Oakdale, not quite without an +exulting consciousness that her walk had crowned her beauty and that +no one whom she saw was thinking about anything else; and so she +came to her home, to the dear old parsonage, with its spreading ivy +vines, and its two great elms. + +When she had hurried up the steps and shut the door behind her, +Helen felt privileged again to be just as merry as she chose, for +she was even more at home here than in the woods; it seemed as if +everything were stretching out its arms to her to welcome her, and +to invite her to carry out her declared purpose of taking the reins +of government in her own hands. + +Upon one side of the hallway was a parlor, and on the other side two +rooms, which Mr. Davis had used as a reception room and a study. The +parlor had never been opened, and Helen promised herself a jolly +time superintending the fixing up of that; on the other side she had +already taken possession of the front room, symbolically at any +rate, by having her piano moved in and her music unpacked, and a +case emptied for the books she had brought from Germany. To be sure, +on the other side was still a dreary wall of theological treatises +in funereal black, but Helen was not without hopes that continued +doses of cheerfulness might cure her father of such incomprehensible +habits, and obtain for her the permission to move the books to the +attic. + +To start things in that direction the girl now danced gaily into the +study where her father was in the act of writing "thirdly, +brethren," for his next day's sermon; and crying out merrily, + + "Up, up my friend, and quit your books, + Or surely you'll grow double!" + +she saluted her reverend father with the sweetest of kisses, and +then seated herself on the arm of his chair and gravely took his pen +out of his hand, and closed his inkstand. She turned over the +"thirdly, brethren," without blotting it, and recited solemnly: + + "One impulse from a vernal wood + May teach you more of man, + Of moral evil and of good. + Than all the sages can!" + +And then she laughed the merriest of merry laughs and added, "Daddy, +dear, I am an impulse! And I want you to spare some time for me." + +"Yes, my love," said Mr. Davis, smiling upon her, though groaning +inwardly for his lost ideas. "You are beautiful this morning, Helen. +What have you been doing?" + +"I've had a glorious walk," replied the girl, "and all kinds of +wonderful adventures; I've had a dance with the morning wind, and a +race of a mile or two with a brook, and I've sung duets with all the +flowers,--and here you are writing uninteresting things!" + +"It's my sermon, Helen," said Mr. Davis. + +"I know it," said Helen, gravely. + +"But it must be done for to-morrow," protested the other. + +"Half your congregation is going to be so excited about two tallow +candles that it won't know what you preach about," answered the +girl, swinging herself on the arm of the chair; "and I'm going to +sing for the other half, and so they won't care either. And besides, +Daddy, I've got news to tell you; you've no idea what a good girl +I've been." + +"How, my love?" + +"I went to see Mrs. Woodward." + +"You didn't!" + +"Yes; and it was just to show you how dutiful I'm going to be. +Daddy, I felt so sorry for the poor old lady; it is so beautiful to +know that one is doing good and bringing happiness into other +people's lives! I think I'll go and see her often, and carry her +something nice if you'll let me." + +Helen said all that as gravely as a judge; but Mr. Davis was +agreeing so delightedly that she feared she was carrying the joke +too far. She changed the subject quickly. + +"Oh, Daddy!" she cried, "I forgot to tell you--I met a genius +to-day!" + +"A genius?" inquired the other. + +"Yes," said Helen, "and I've been walking around with him all +morning out in the woods! Did you never hear that every place like +that has a genius?" + +"Yes," assented Mr. Davis, "but I don't understand your joke." + +"This was the genius of Hilltown High School," laughed Helen. + +"Oh, Arthur!" + +"Yes; will you believe it, the dear boy had walked all the way from +there to see me; and he waited out by the old seat at the spring!" + +"But where is he now?" + +"I don't know," said Helen. "It's very queer; I left him to go see +Mrs. Woodward. He didn't go with me," she added, "I don't believe he +felt inclined to charity." + +"That is not like Arthur," said the other. + +"I'm going to take him in hand, as becomes a clergyman's daughter," +said Helen demurely; "I'm going to be a model daughter, Daddy--just +you wait and see! I'll visit all your parishioners' lawn-parties +and five o'clock teas for you, and I'll play Handel's Largo and +Siegfried's Funeral March whenever you want to write sermons. Won't +you like that?" + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Davis, dubiously. + +"Only I know you'll make blots when I come to the cymbals," said +Helen; and she doubled up her fists and hummed the passage, and gave +so realistic an imitation of the cymbal-clashes in the great dirge +that it almost upset the chair. Afterwards she laughed one of her +merriest laughs and kissed her father on the forehead. + +"I heard it at Baireuth," she said, "and it was just fine! It made +your flesh creep all over you. And oh, Daddy, I brought home a +souvenir of Wagner's grave!" + +"Did you?" asked Mr. Davis, who knew very little about Wagner. + +"Yes," said Helen, "just a pebble I picked up near it; and you ought +to have seen the custom-house officer at the dock yesterday when he +was going through my trunks. 'What's this, Miss?' he asked; I guess +he thought it was a diamond in the rough. 'Oh, that's from Wagner's +grave,' I said. And what do you think the wretch did?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, my love." + +"He threw it back, saying it wasn't worth anything; I think he must +have been a Brahmsite." + +"It took the longest time going through all my treasures," Helen +prattled on, after laughing at her own joke; "you know Aunt Polly +let us have everything we wanted, bless her heart!" + +"I'm afraid Aunt Polly must have spoiled you," said the other. + +"She has," laughed Helen; "I really think she must mean to make me +marry a rich husband, or else she'd never have left me at that great +rich school; Lucy and I were the 'star-boarders' you know, and we +just had everybody to spoil us. How in the world could you ever +manage to spare so much money, Daddy?" + +"Oh, it was not so much," said Mr. Davis; "things are cheaper +abroad." (As a matter of fact, the grimly resolute Aunt Polly had +paid two-thirds of her niece's expenses secretly, besides +distributing pocket money with lavish generosity.) + +"And you should see the wonderful dresses I've brought from Paris," +Helen went on. "Oh, Daddy, I tell you I shall be glorious! Aunt +Polly's going to invite a lot of people at her house next week to +meet me, and I'm going to wear the reddest of red, red dresses, and +just shine like a lighthouse!" + +"I'm afraid," said the clergyman, surveying her with more pride than +was perhaps orthodox, "I'm afraid you'll find it hard to be +satisfied in this poor little home of ours." + +"Oh, that's all right," said Helen; "I'll soon get used to it; and +besides, I've got plenty of things to fix it up with--if you'll only +get those dreadful theological works out of the front room! Daddy +dear, you can't imagine how hard it is to bring the Valkyries and +Niebelungs into a theological library." + +"I'll see what I can do, my love," said Mr. Davis. + +He was silent for a few moments, perhaps wondering vaguely whether +it was well that this commanding young lady should have everything +in the world she desired; Helen, who had her share of penetration, +probably divined the thought, for she made haste to change the +subject. + +"By the way," she laughed, "we got so interested in our chattering +that we forgot all about Arthur." + +"Sure enough," exclaimed the other. "Pray where can he have gone?" + +"I don't know," Helen said; "it's strange. But poets are such queer +creatures!" + +"Arthur is a very splendid creature," said Mr. Davis. "You have no +idea, Helen, how hard he has labored since you have been away. He +carried off all the honors at college, and they say he has written +some good poetry. I don't know much about that, but the people who +know tell me so." + +"It would be gloriously romantic to know a great poet," said Helen, +"and perhaps have him write poetry about you,--'Helen, thy beauty is +to me,' and 'Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss,' and all +sorts of things like that! He's coming to live with us this summer +as usual, isn't he, Daddy?" + +"I don't know," said the other; "I presume he will. But where can he +have gone to-day?" + +"He acted very queerly," said the girl; and then suddenly a +delighted smile lit up her face. "Oh, Daddy," she added, "do you +know, I think Arthur is in love!" + +"In love!" gasped Mr. Davis. + +"Yes, in love!" + +"Pray, with whom?" + +"I'm sure I can't imagine," said Helen gravely; "but he seemed so +abstracted, and he seemed to have something to tell me. And then he +ran away!" + +"That is very strange indeed," remarked the other. "I shall have to +speak to him about it." + +"If he doesn't come back soon, I'll go to look for him," said the +girl; "I'm not going to let the water nixies run off with my Arthur; +there are such things in that stream, because the song I was singing +about it says so." And then she chanted as merrily as ever: + + "Why speak I of a murmur? + No murmur can it be; + The Nixies they are singing + 'Neath the wave their melody!" + +"I will tell you what," said Mr. Davis, rising from his chair as he +realized that the sermon had entirely vanished for the present. "You +may go part of the way with me, and we'll stop in to see the Vails." + +"The Vails!" gasped Helen. (Mr. Vail was the village dairyman, whose +farm lay on the outskirts of the town; the village dairyman's family +was not one that Helen cared to visit.) + +"My love," said Mr. Davis, "poor Mrs. Vail has been very ill, and +she has three little children, you know. You told me that you liked +to bring joy wherever you could." + +"Yes, but, Daddy," protested Helen, "_those_ children are _dirty!_ +Ugh! I saw them as I came by." + +"My love," answered the other, "they are God's children none the +less; and we cannot always help such things." + +"But we _can_, Daddy; there is plenty of water in the world." + +"Yes, of course; but when the mother is ill, and the father in +trouble! For poor Mr. Vail has had no end of misfortune; he has no +resource but the little dairy, and three of his cows have been ill +this spring." + +And Helen's incorrigible mirth lighted up her face again. "Oh!" she +cried. "Is _that_ it! I saw him struggling away at the pump as I +came by; but I had no idea it was anything so serious!" + +Mr. Davis looked grieved; Helen, when her first burst of glee had +passed, noticed it and changed her mood. She put her arms around her +father's neck and pressed her cheek against his. + +"Daddy, dear," she said coaxingly, "haven't I done charity enough +for one day? You will surfeit me at the start, and then I'll be just +as little fond of it as I was before. When I must let dirty children +climb all over me, I can dress for the occasion." + +"My dear," pleaded Mr. Davis, "Godliness is placed before +Cleanliness." + +"Yes," admitted Helen, "and of course it is right for you to +inculcate the greater virtue; but I'm only a girl, and you mustn't +expect sublimity from me. You don't want to turn me into a president +of sewing societies, like that dreadful Mrs. Dale!" + +"Helen," protested the other, helplessly, "I wish you would not +always refer to Mrs. Dale with that adjective; she is the best +helper I have." + +"Yes, Daddy," said Helen, with the utmost solemnity; "when I have a +dreadful eagle nose like hers, perhaps I can preside over meetings +too. But I can't now." + +"I do not want you to, my love; but--" + +"And if I have to cling by the weaker virtue of cleanliness just for +a little while, Daddy, you must not mind. I'll visit all your clean +parishioners for you,--parishioners like Aunt Polly!" + +And before Mr. Davis could make another remark, the girl had skipped +into the other room to the piano; as her father went slowly out the +door, the echoes of the old house were laughing with the happy +melody of Purcell's-- + + Nymphs and shepherds, come a-way, come a-way, + Nymphs and shepherds, come a-way, come a-way, Come, + come, come, come a-way! + + + + +CHAPTER III + + + "For you alone I strive to sing, + Oh, tell me how to woo!" + +When Helen was left alone, she seated herself before her old music +stand which had been brought down to welcome her, and proceeded to +glance over and arrange the pieces she had learned and loved in her +young girlhood. Most of them made her smile, and when she reflected +upon how difficult she used to think them, she realized that now +that it was over she was glad for the German regime. Helen had +accounted herself an accomplished pianist when she went away, but +she had met with new standards and learned to think humbly of +herself in the great home of music. She possessed a genuine fondness +for the art, however, and had devoted most of her three years to it, +so that she came home rejoicing in the possession of a technic that +was quite a mastership compared with any that she was likely to +meet. + +Helen's thoughts did not dwell upon that very long at present, +however; she found herself thinking again about Arthur, and the +unexpected ending of her walk with him. + +"I had no idea he felt that way toward me," she mused, resting her +chin in her hand; "what in the world am I going to do? Men are +certainly most inconvenient creatures; I thought I was doing +everything in the world to make him happy!" + +Helen turned to the music once more, but the memory of the figure +she had left sunken helplessly upon the forest seat stayed in her +mind. "I do wonder if that can be why he did not wait for me," she +thought, shuddering,--"if he was too wretched to see me again; what +CAN I do?" She got up and began walking restlessly up and down the +room for a few minutes. + +"Perhaps I ought to go and look for him," she mused; "it was an hour +or two ago that I left him there;" and Helen, after thinking the +matter over, had half turned to leave, when she heard a step outside +and saw the door open quickly. Even before she saw him she knew who +it was, for only Arthur would have entered without ringing the bell. +After having pictured him overcome by despair, it was rather a blow +to her pride to see him, for he entered flushed, and seemingly +elated. + +"Well, sir, you've treated me nicely!" she exclaimed, showing her +vexation in spite of herself. + +"You will forgive me," said Arthur, smiling. + +"Don't be too sure of it," Helen said; "I looked for you everywhere, +and I am quite angry." + +"I was obeying your high command," the other replied, still smiling. + +"My command? I told you to wait for me." + +"You told me something else," laughed Arthur. "You spent all the +morning instructing me for it, you know." + +"Oh!" said Helen. It was a broad and very much prolonged "Oh," for a +sudden light was dawning upon the girl; as it came her frown gave +place to a look of delight. + +"You have been writing me a poem!" she cried, eagerly. + +"Yes," said Arthur. + +"Oh, you dear boy!" Helen laughed. "Then I do forgive you; but you +ought to have told me, for I had to walk home all alone, and I've +been worrying about you. I never once thought of the poem." + +"The muses call without warning," laughed Arthur, "and one has to +obey them, you know." + +"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the other. "And so you've been wandering around +the woods all this time, making verses! And you've been waving your +arms and talking to yourself, and doing all sorts of crazy things, I +know!" Then as she saw Arthur flush, she went on: "I was sure of it! +And you ran away so that I wouldn't see you! Oh, I wish I'd known; +I'd have hunted you up and never come home until I'd found you." + +As was usual with Helen, her momentary vexation had gone like April +rain, and all her seriousness had vanished with it. She forgot all +about the last scene in the woods, and Arthur was once more the +friend of her girlhood, whom she might take by the hand when she +chose, and with whom she might be as free and happy as when she was +alone with the flowers and the wind. It seemed as if Arthur too had +vented all his pent up emotion, and returned to his natural cheerful +self. + +"Tell me," she cried, "did you put in all the things I told you +about?" + +"I put all I could," said Arthur. "That is a great deal to ask." + +"I only want it to be full of life," laughed Helen. "That's all I +care about; the man who wants to write springtime poetry for me must +be wide awake!" + +"Shall I read it to you?" asked Arthur, hesitatingly. + +"Yes, of course," said Helen. "And read it as if you meant it; if I +like it I'll tell you so." + +"I wrote it for nothing but to please you" was the reply, and Arthur +took a much bescrawled piece of paper from his pocket; the girl +seated herself upon the piano stool again and gazed up at him as he +rested his elbow upon the top of the piano and read his lines. There +could not have been a situation in which the young poet would have +read them with more complete happiness, and so it was a pleasure to +watch him. And Helen's eyes kindled, and her cheeks flushed brightly +as she listened, for she found that the verses had taken their +imagery from her very lips. + + In the May-time's golden glory + Ere the quivering sun was high, + I heard the Wind of Morning + Through the laughing meadows fly; + + In his passion-song was throbbing + All the madness of the May, + And he whispered: Thou hast labored; + Thou art weary; come away! + + Thou shalt drink a fiery potion + For thy prisoned spirit's pain; + Thou shalt taste the ancient rapture + That thy soul has sought in vain. + + I will tell thee of a maiden, + One who has thy longing fanned-- + Spirit of the Forest Music-- + Thou shalt take her by the hand, + + Lightly by her rosy fingers + Trembling with her keen delight, + And her flying steps shall lead thee + Out upon the mountain's height; + + To a dance undreamed of mortal + To the Bacchanal of Spring,-- + Where in mystic joy united + Nature's bright-eyed creatures sing. + + There the green things of the mountain, + Million-voiced, newly-born, + And the flowers of the valley + In their beauty's crimson morn; + + There the winged winds of morning, + Spirits unresting, touched with fire, + And the streamlets, silver-throated, + They whose leaping steps ne'er tire! + + Thou shalt see them, ever circling + Round about a rocky spring, + While the gaunt old forest-warriors + Madly their wide branches fling. + + Thou shalt tread the whirling measure, + Bathe thee in its frenzied strife; + Thou shalt have a mighty memory + For thy spirit's after life. + + Haste thee while thy heart is burning, + While thine eyes have strength to see; + Hark, behind yon blackening cloud-bank, + To the Storm-King's minstrelsy! + + See, he stamps upon the mountains, + And he leaps the valleys high! + Now he smites his forest harp-strings, + And he sounds his thunder-cry:-- + + Waken, lift ye up, ye creatures, + Sing the song, each living thing! + Join ye in the mighty passion + Of the Symphony of Spring! + +And so the young poet finished, his cheeks fairly on fire, and, as +he gazed down at Helen, his hand trembling so that he could hardly +hold the paper. One glance told him that she was pleased, for the +girl's face was flushed like his own, and her eyes were sparkling +with delight. Arthur's heart gave a great throb within him. + +"You like it!" he exclaimed. + +"Oh, Arthur, I do!" she cried. "Oh, how glorious you must have +been!" And trembling with girlish delight, she took the paper from +his hand and placed it in front of her on the music rack. + +"Oh, I should like to write music for it!" she exclaimed; "for those +lines about the Storm-King!" + +And she read them aloud, clenching her hands and shaking her head, +carried away by the image they brought before her eyes. "Oh, I +should like music for it!" she cried again. + +"I don't know very much about poetry, you know," she added, laughing +excitedly. "If it's about the things I like, I can't help thinking +it's fine. It's just the same with music,--if a man only makes it +swift and strong, so that it leaps and flies and never tires, that +is all I care about; and if he just keeps his trombones till the +very last, he can carry me off my feet though he makes the worst +noise that ever was! It's the same as a storm, you know, Arthur; do +you remember how we used to go up on our hillside when the great +wind was coming, and when everything was growing still and black; +and how we used to watch the big clouds and the sheets of rain, and +run for home when we heard the thunder? Once when you were away, +Arthur, I didn't run, for I wanted to see what it was like; and I +stayed up there and saw it all, singing the 'Ride of the Valkyries,' +and pretending I was one of them and could gallop with the wind. For +the wind is fine, Arthur! It fills you so full of its power that you +stretch out your arms to it, and it makes you sing; and it comes, +and it comes again, stronger than ever, and it sweeps you on, just +like a great mass of music. And then it howls through the trees and +it flies over the valleys,--that was what you were thinking of, +weren't you, Arthur?" + +And Helen stopped, breathlessly, and gazed at him; her cheeks were +flushed, and her hands still tightly clasped. + +"Yes," said Arthur, half mechanically, for he had lost himself in +the girl's enthusiasm, and felt the storm of his verses once more. + +"Your poem made me think of that one time that was so gloriously," +Helen went on. "For the rain was almost blinding, and I was +drenched, but I did not even know it. For oh, the thunder! Arthur, +you've no idea what thunder is like till you're near it! There fell +one fearful bolt quite near me, a great white, living thing, as +thick as a man's body, and the crash of it seemed to split the air. +But oh, I didn't mind it a bit! 'Der Sanger triumphirt in Wettern!' +I think I was a real Valkyrie that time, and I only wished that I +might put it into music." + +The girl turned to the piano, and half in play struck a great +rumbling chord, that rolled and echoed through the room; she sounded +it once more, laughing aloud with glee. Arthur had sunk down upon a +chair beside her, and was bending forward, watching her with growing +excitement. For again and again Helen struck the keys with all the +power of her arms, until they seemed to give forth real storm and +thunder; and as she went on with her reckless play the mood grew +upon her, and she lost herself in the vision of the Storm-King +sweeping through the sky. She poured out a great stream of his wild +music, singing away to herself excitedly in the meantime. And as the +rush continued and the fierce music swelled louder, the phantasy +took hold of the girl and carried her beyond herself. She seemed to +become the very demon of the storm, unbound and reckless; she smote +the keys with right royal strength, and the piano seemed a thing of +life beneath her touch. The pace became faster, and the thunder +rattled and crashed more wildly, and there awoke in the girl's soul +a power of musical utterance that she had never dreamed of in her +life before. Her whole being was swept away in ecstasy; her lips +were moving excitedly, and her pulses were leaping like mad. She +seemed no longer to know of the young man beside her, who was bent +forward with clenched hands, carried beyond himself by the sight of +her exulting power. + +And in the meantime, Helen's music was surging on, building itself +up into a great climax that swelled and soared and burst in a +deafening thunder crash; and while the air was still throbbing and +echoing with it, the girl joined to it her deep voice, grown +suddenly conscious of new power: + + "See, he stamps upon the mountains, + And he leaps the valleys high! + Now he smites his forest harp-strings, + And he sounds his thunder cry!" + +And as the cry came the girl laughed aloud, like a very Valkyrie +indeed, her laugh part of the music, and carried on by it; and then +gradually as the tempest swept on, the rolling thunder was lost in a +march that was the very tread of the Storm-King. And the march +broadened, and the thunder died out of it slowly, and all the wild +confusion, and then it rose, glorious and triumphant, and turned to +a mighty pean, a mightier one than ever Helen could have made. The +thought of it had come to her as an inspiration, and as a refuge, +that the glory of her passion might not be lost. The march had led +her to it, and now it had taken her in its arms and swept her away, +as it had swept millions by its majesty. It was the great Ninth +Symphony Hymn: + + "Hail thee, Joy! From Heaven descending, + Daughter from Elysium! + Ecstasy our hearts inflaming, + To thy sacred shrine we come. + Thine enchantments bind together + Those whom custom's law divides; + All are brothers, all united, + Where thy gentle wing abides." + +And Helen sang it as one possessed by it, as one made drunk with its +glory--as the very Goddess of Joy that she was. For the Storm-King +and his legions had fled, and another vision had come into her +heart, a vision that every one ought to carry with him when the +great symphony is to be heard. He should see the hall in Vienna +where it was given for the last time in the great master's life, and +see the great master himself, the bowed and broken figure that all +musicians worship, standing up to conduct it; and see him leading it +through all its wild surging passion, almost too frantic to be +endured; and then, when the last towering climax has passed and the +music has ceased and the multitude at his back has burst forth into +its thundering shout, see the one pathetic figure standing there +aloft before all eyes and still blindly beating the time. There must +have been tears in the eyes of every man in that place to know the +reason for it,--that he from whose heart all their joy had come, he +who was lord and master of it, had never heard in his life and could +never hope to hear one sound of that music he had written, but must +dwell a prisoner in darkness and solitude forever. + +That was the picture before Helen's eyes; she did not think of the +fearful tragedy of it--she had no feeling for tragedy, she knew no +more about suffering than a child just born. But joy she knew, and +joy she was; she was the multitude lifted up in its ecstasy, +throbbing, burning and triumphant, and she sang the great choruses, +one after another, and the piano beneath her fingers thundered and +rang with the instrumental part. Surely in all music there is no +utterance of joy so sustained and so overwhelming in its intensity +as this; it is a frenzy almost more than man can stand; it is joy +more than human--the joy of existence:-- + + "Pleasure every creature living + From kind Nature's breast receives; + Good and evil, all are seeking + For the rosy path she leaves." + +And so the torrent of passionate exultation swept Helen onward with +it until the very end, the last frantic prestissimo chorus, and then +she sprang to her feet and flung up her hands with a cry. She stood +thus for a moment, glowing with exultation, and then she sank down +again and sat staring before her, the music still echoing through +every fiber of her soul, and the shouting multitude still surging +before her. + +For just how long that lasted, she knew not, but only that her wild +mood was gradually subsiding, and that she felt herself sinking +back, as a bird sinks after its flight; then suddenly she turned. +Arthur was at her side, and she gave a cry, for he had seized her +hand in his, and was covering it with burning kisses. + +"Arthur! Arthur!" she gasped. + +The young man gazed up at her, and Helen remembered the scene in the +forest, and realized what she had done. She had shaken him to the +very depths of his being by the emotion which she had flung loose +before him, and he seemed beside himself at that moment, his hair +disordered and his forehead hot and flushed. He made a move as if to +clasp the girl in his arms, and Helen tore her hand loose by main +force and sprang back to the doorway. + +"Arthur!" she cried. "What do you mean?" + +He clutched at a chair for support, and stood staring at her. For +fully a minute they remained thus, Helen trembling with alarm; then +his head sank, and he flung himself down upon the sofa, where he lay +sobbing passionately. Helen remained gazing at him with wide open +and astonished eyes. + +"Arthur!" she exclaimed again. + +But he did not hear her, for the cruel sobbing that shook his frame. +Helen, as soon as her first alarm had passed, came softly nearer, +till she stood by the sofa; but still he did not heed her, and she +did not dare even to put her hand upon his shoulder. She was afraid +of him, her dearest friend, and she knew not what to make of him. + +"Arthur," she whispered again, when he was silent for a moment. +"Please speak to me, Arthur." + +The other gazed up at her with a look of such helpless despair and +longing upon his face that Helen was frightened still more. He had +been sobbing as if his heart would break, but his eyes were dry. + +"What is the matter?" she cried. + +The young man answered her hoarsely: "Can you not see what is the +matter, Helen? I love you! And you drive me mad!" + +The girl turned very pale, and lowered her eyes before his burning +gaze. + +"Helen," the other went on impetuously, "you will break my heart if +you treat me in this way. Do you not know that for three long years +I have been dreaming of you, and of the promise that you gave me? +You told me that you loved me, and that you always would love me! +You told me that the night before you went away; and you kissed me. +All this time I have been thinking of that kiss, and cherishing the +memory of it, and waiting for you to return. I have labored for no +other reason, I have had no other hope in the world; I have kept +your image before me, and lived in it, and worshiped before it, and +the thought of you has been all that I had. When I was tired and +worn and ill I could only think of you and remember your promise, +and count the days before your return. And, oh, it has been so long +that I could not stand it! For weeks I have been so impatient, and +so filled with the thought of the day when I might see you again +that I have been helpless and half mad; for I thought that I should +take your hand in mine and claim your promise. And this morning I +wandered about the woods for hours, waiting for you to come. And see +how you have treated me!" + +He buried his face in his hands again, and Helen stood gazing at +him, breathing very fast with alarm, and unable to find a word to +say. + +"Helen," he groaned, without looking up again, "do you not know that +you are beautiful? Have you no heart? You fling your soul bare +before me, and you fill me with this fearful passion; you will drive +me mad!" + +"But, Arthur," she protested, "I could not think of you so; I +thought of you as my brother, and I meant to make you happy." + +"Tell me, then," he gasped, staring at her, "tell me once for all. +You do _not_ love me, Helen?" + +The girl answered with a frank gaze that was cruel, "No, Arthur." + +"And you can never love me? You take back the promise that you made +me?" + +"I told you that I was only a child, Arthur; it has been a long time +since I have thought of it." + +The young man choked back a sob. "Oh, Helen, if you only knew what +cruel words those are," he groaned. "I cannot bear them." + +He gazed at her with his burning eyes, so that the girl lowered hers +again. "Tell me!" he exclaimed. "What am I to do?" + +"Can we not remain friends, just as we used to be?" she asked +pleadingly. "Can we not talk together and help each other as before? +Oh, Arthur, I thought you would come here to live all summer, and +how I should like it! Why can you not? Can you not let me play for +you without--without--" and Helen stopped, and flushed a trifle; "I +do not know quite what to make of you to-day," she added. + +She was speaking kindly, but to the man beside her with his burning +heart, her words were hard to hear; he stared at her, shuddering, +and then suddenly he clenched his hands and started to his feet. + +"Helen," he cried, "there is but one thing. I must go!" + +"Go?" echoed Helen. + +"If I stay here and gaze at you I shall go mad with despair," he +exclaimed incoherently. "Oh, I shall go mad! For I do love you, and +you talk to me as if I were a child! Helen, I must get this out of +my heart in some way, I cannot stay here." + +"But, Arthur," the girl protested, "I told father you would stay, +and you will make yourself ill, for you have walked all day." + +Every word she uttered was more torment to the other, for it showed +him how much his hopes were gone to wreck. He rushed across the room +and opened the door; then, however, he paused, as if that had cost +him all his resolution. He gazed at the girl with a look of +unspeakable yearning, his face white, and his limbs trembling +beneath him. + +"You wish me to go, Helen?" he exclaimed. + +"Wish you!" exclaimed Helen, who was watching him in alarm. "Of +course not; I want you to stay and see father, and--" + +"And hear you tell me that you do not love me! Oh, Helen, how can +you say it again? Can you not see what you have done to me?" + +"Arthur!" cried the girl. + +"Yes, what you have done to me! You have made me so that I dare not +stay near you. You _must_ love me, Helen, oh, some time you must!" +And he came toward her again, stretching out his arms to her. As she +sprang back, frowning, he stopped and stood for an instant, half +sinking; then he whirled about and darted out of the door. + +Helen was scarcely able to realize at first that he was gone, but +when she looked out she saw that he was already far down the street, +walking swiftly. For a moment she thought of calling him; but she +checked herself, and closed the door quietly instead, after which +she walked slowly across the room. In the center of it she stopped +still, gazing in front of her thoughtfully, and looking very grave +indeed. "That is dreadful," she said slowly. "I had no idea of such +a thing. What in the world am I to do?" + +There was a tall mirror between the two windows of the room, and +Helen went toward it and stood in front of it, gazing earnestly at +herself. "Is it true, then, that I am so very beautiful?" she mused. +"And even Arthur must fall in love with me!" + +Helen's face was still flushed with the glory of her ride with the +Storm-King; she smoothed back the long strands of golden hair that +had come loose, and then she looked at herself again. "It is +dreadful," she said once more, half aloud, "I do not think I ever +felt so nervous in my life, and I don't know what to do; everything +I did to please him seemed only to make him more miserable. I wanted +him to be happy with me; I wanted him to stay with me." And she +walked away frowning, and seated herself at the piano and began +peevishly striking at the keys. "I am going to write to him and tell +him that he must get over that dreadfulness," she muttered after a +while, "and come back and be friends with me. Oakdale will be too +stupid without him all summer, and I should be miserable." + +She was just rising impatiently when the front door opened and her +father came in, exclaiming in a cheery voice, "Well, children!" Then +he stopped in surprise. "Why, someone told me Arthur was here!" he +exclaimed. + +"He's gone home again," said Helen, in a dissatisfied tone. + +"Home!" exclaimed the other. "To Hilltown?" + +"Yes." + +"But I thought he was going to stay until tomorrow." + +"So did I," said Helen, "but he changed his mind and decided that +he'd better not." + +"Why, I am really disappointed," said Mr. Davis. "I thought we +should have a little family party; I haven't seen Arthur for a +month." + +"There is some important reason," said Helen--"that's what he told +me, anyway." She did not want her father to have any idea of the +true reason, or to ask any inconvenient questions. + +Mr. Davis would perhaps have done so, had he not something else on +his mind. "By the way, Helen," he said, "I must ask you, what in the +world was that fearful noise you were making?" + +"Noise?" asked Helen, puzzled for a moment. + +"Why, yes; I met old Mr. Nelson coming down the street, and he said +that you were making a most dreadful racket upon the piano, and +shouting, too, and that there were a dozen people standing in the +street, staring!" + +A sudden wild thought occurred to Helen, and she whirled about. Sure +enough, she found the two windows of the room wide open; and that +was too much for her gravity; she flung herself upon the sofa and +gave vent to peal after peal of laughter. + +"Oh, Daddy!" she gasped. "Oh, Daddy!" + +Mr. Davis did not understand the joke, but he waited patiently, +taking off his gloves in the meantime. "What it is, Helen?" he +enquired. + +"Oh, Daddy!" exclaimed the girl again, and lifted herself up and +turned her laughing eyes upon him. "And now I understand why +inspired people have to live in the country!" + +"What was it, Helen?" + +"It--it wasn't anything, Daddy, except that I was playing and +singing for Arthur, and I forgot to close the windows." + +"You must remember, my love, that you live in a clergyman's house," +said Mr. Davis. "I have no objection to merriment, but it must be +within bounds. Mr. Nelson said that he did not know what to think +was the matter." + +Helen made a wry face at the name; the Nelsons were a family of +Methodists who lived across the way. Methodists are people who take +life seriously as a rule, and Helen thought the Nelsons were very +queer indeed. + +"I'll bet he did know what to think," she chuckled, "even if he +didn't say it; he thought that was just what to expect from a +clergyman who had a decanter of wine on his dinner table." + +Mr. Davis could not help smiling. And as for Helen, she was herself +all over again; for when her father had come in, she had about +reached a point where she could no longer bear to be serious and +unhappy. As he went on to ask her to be a little less reckless, +Helen put her arms around him and said, with the solemnity that she +always wore when she was gayest: "But, Daddy, I don't know what I'm +to do; you sent me to Germany to study music, and if I'm never to +play it--" + +"Yes, but Helen; such frantic, dreadful noise!" + +"But, Daddy, the Germans are emotional people, you know; no one +would have been in the least surprised at that in Germany; it was a +hymn, Daddy!" + +"A hymn!" gasped Mr. Davis. + +"Yes, honestly," said Helen. "It is a wonderful hymn. Every German +knows it nearly by heart." + +Mr. Davis had as much knowledge of German music as might be expected +of one who had lived twenty years in the country and heard three +hymns and an anthem sung every Sunday by a volunteer choir. Helen's +musical education, as all her other education, had been +superintended by Aunt Polly, and the only idea that came to Mr. +Davis' mind was of Wagner, whose name he had heard people talk about +in connection with noise and incoherency. + +"Helen," he said, "I trust that is not the kind of hymn you are +going to sing to-morrow." + +"I don't know," was the puzzled reply. "I'll see what I can do, +Daddy. It's dreadfully hard to find anything in German music like +the slow-going, practical lives that we dull Yankees lead." Then a +sudden idea occurred to the girl, and she ran to the piano with a +gleeful laugh: "Just see, for instance," she said, fumbling +hurriedly amongst her music, "I was playing the Moonlight Sonata +this morning, and that's a good instance." + +"This is the kind of moonlight they have in Germany," she laughed +when she found it. After hammering out a few discords of her own she +started recklessly into the incomprehensible "presto," thundering +away at every crescendo as if to break her fingers. "Isn't it fine, +Daddy?" she cried, gazing over her shoulder. + +"I don't see what it has to do with the moon," said the clergyman, +gazing helplessly at the open window, and wondering if another crowd +was gathering. + +"That's what everybody's been trying to find out!" said Helen; then, +as she heard the dinner bell out in the hall, she ended with half a +dozen frantic runs, and jumping up with the last of them, took her +father's arm and danced out of the room with him. + +"Perhaps when we come to see the other side of the moon," she said, +"we may discover all about it. Or else it's because the moon is +supposed to set people crazy." So they passed in to dinner, where +Helen was as animated as ever, poor Arthur and his troubles seeming +to have vanished completely from her thoughts. + +In fact, it was not until the meal was nearly over that she spoke of +them again; she noticed that it was growing dark outside, and she +stepped to the window just as a distant rumble of thunder was heard. + +"Dear me!" she exclaimed. "There's a fearful storm coming, and poor +Arthur is out in it; he must be a long way from town by this time, +and there is no house where he can go." From the window where she +stood she had a view across the hills in back of the town, and could +see the black clouds coming swiftly on. "It is like we were +imagining this morning," she mused; "I wonder if he will think of +it." + +The dinner was over soon after that, and she looked out again, just +as the first drops of rain were falling; the thunder was rolling +louder, bringing to Helen a faint echo of her morning music. She +went in and sat down at the piano, her fingers roaming over the keys +hesitatingly. "I wish I could get it again," she mused. "It seems +like a dream when I think of it, it was so wild and so wonderful. +Oh, if I could only remember that march!" + +There came a crash of thunder near by, as if to help her, but Helen +found that all efforts were in vain. Neither the storm music nor the +march came back to her, and even when she played a few chords of the +great chorus she had sung, it sounded tame and commonplace. Helen +knew that the glory of that morning was gone where goes the best +inspiration of all humanity, back into nothingness and night. + +"It was a shame," she thought, as she rose discontentedly from the +piano. "I never was so carried away by music in my life, and the +memory of it would have kept me happy for weeks, if Arthur hadn't +been here to trouble me!" + +Then, however, as she went to the window again to watch the storm +which was now raging in all its majesty, she added more unselfishly: +"Poor boy! It is dreadful to think of him being out in it." She saw +a bolt of lightning strike in the distance, and she waited +breathlessly for the thunder. It was a fearful crash, and it made +her blood run faster, and her eyes sparkle. "My!" she exclaimed. +"But it's fine!" And then she added with a laugh, "He can correct +his poem by it, if he wants to!" + +She turned to go upstairs. On the way she stopped with a rather +conscience-stricken look, and said to herself, "Poor fellow! It +seems a shame to be happy!" She stood for a moment thinking, but +then she added, "Yet I declare, I don't know what to do for him; it +surely isn't my fault if I am not in love with him in that mad +fashion, and I don't see why I should make myself wretched about +it!" Having thus silenced her conscience, she went up to unpack her +trunks, humming to herself on the way: + + "Sir Knight, a faithful sister's love + This heart devotes to thee; + I pray thee ask no other love, + For pain that causes me. + + "Quiet would I see thee come, + And quiet see thee go; + The silent weeping of thine eyes + I cannot bear to know." + +While she was singing Arthur was in the midst of the tempest, +staggering towards his home ten miles away. He was drenched by the +cold rain, and shivering and almost fainting from exhaustion--for he +had eaten nothing since early dawn; yet so wretched and sick at +heart was he that he felt nothing, and scarcely heard the storm or +realized where he was. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + "Dosn't thou 'ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaay? + Proputty, proputty, proputty--that's what I 'ears 'em saay. + + But I knawed a Quaaker feller as often 'as towd ma this: + 'Doant thou marry for munny, but goa wheer munny is!'" + +Helen had much to do to keep her busy during the next few days. She +had in the first place to receive visits from nearly everybody in +Oakdale, for she was a general favorite in the town, and besides +that everyone was curious to see what effect the trip had had upon +her beauty and accomplishments. Then too, she had the unpacking of +an incredible number of trunks; it was true that Helen, having been +a favored boarder at an aristocratic seminary, was not in the habit +of doing anything troublesome herself, but she considered it +necessary to superintend the servant. Last of all there was a great +event at the house of her aunt, Mrs. Roberts, to be anticipated and +prepared for. + +It has been said that the marriage of Mr. Davis had been a second +romance in that worthy man's career, he having had the fortune to +win the love of a daughter of a very wealthy family which lived near +Oakdale. The parents had of course been bitterly opposed to the +match, but the girl had had her way. Unfortunately, however, the +lovers, or at any rate the bride, having been without any real idea +of duty or sacrifice, the match had proved one of those that serve +to justify the opinions of people who are "sensible;" the young +wife, wearying of the lot she had chosen, had sunk into a state of +peevish discontent from which death came to relieve her. + +Of this prodigal daughter Aunt Polly was the elder, and wiser, +sister. She had never ceased to urge upon the other, both before and +after marriage, the folly of her conduct, and had lived herself to +be a proof of her own more excellent sense, having married a wealthy +stockbroker who proved a good investment, trebling his own capital +and hers in a few years. Aunt Polly therefore had a fine home upon +Madison Avenue in New York, and a most aristocratic country-seat a +few miles from Oakdale, together with the privilege of frequenting +the best society in New York, and of choosing her friends amongst +the most wealthy in the neighborhood of the little town. This +superiority to her erring sister had probably been one of the causes +that had contributed to develop the most prominent trait in her +character--which is perhaps the most prominent trait of high society +in general--a complete satisfaction with the world she knew, and +what she knew about it, and the part she played in it. For the rest, +Aunt Polly was one of those bustling little women who rule the world +in almost everything, because the world finds it is too much trouble +to oppose them. She had assumed, and had generally succeeded in +having recognized, a complete superiority to Mr. Davis in her +knowledge about life, with the result that, as has been stated, the +education of the one child of the unfortunate marriage had been +managed by her. + +When, therefore, Helen had come off the steamer, it had been Mrs. +Roberts who was there to meet her; and the arrangement announced was +that the girl was to have three days to spend with her father, and +was then to come for a week or two at her aunt's, who was just +opening her country home and who intended to invite a score of +people whom she considered, for reasons of her own, proper persons +for her niece to meet. Mrs. Roberts spoke very condescendingly +indeed of the company which Helen met at her father's, Mr. Davis +having his own opinions about the duty of a clergyman toward the +non-aristocratic members of his flock. + +The arrangement, it is scarcely necessary to say, pleased Helen very +much indeed; the atmosphere of luxury and easy superiority which she +found at her aunt's was much to her taste, and she looked forward to +being a center of attraction there with the keenest delight. In the +meantime, however, she slaked her thirst for happiness just as well +at Oakdale, accepting with queenly grace the homage of all who came +to lay their presents at her feet. Sunday proved to be a day of +triumph, for all the town had come to church, and was as much +stirred by the glory of her singing as Arthur had predicted. After +the service everyone waited to tell her about it, and so she was +radiant indeed. + +By Tuesday, however, all that had come to seem a trifling matter, +for that afternoon Aunt Polly was to come, and a new world was to be +opened for her conquest. Helen was amusing herself by sorting out +the motley collection of souvenirs and curios which she had brought +home to decorate her room, when she heard a carriage drive up at the +door, and a minute later heard the voice of Mrs. Roberts' footman in +the hall. + +Mrs. Roberts herself did not alight, and Helen kept her waiting only +long enough to slip on her hat, and to bid her father a hurried +farewell. In a minute more she was in the carriage, and was being +borne in state down the main street of Oakdale. + +"You are beautiful to-day, my dear," said her aunt, beaming upon +her; "I hope you are all ready for your triumph." + +"I think so," said Helen. "I've about seen everybody and everything +I wanted to at home; I've been wonderfully happy, Auntie." + +"That is right, my dear," said Aunt Polly. "You have certainly every +cause to be, and you would be foolish not to make the most of it. +But I should think this town would seem a somewhat less important +place to you, after all that you have seen of the world." + +"Yes, it does a little," laughed Helen, "but it seemed good to see +all the old people again." + +"Someone told me they saw Arthur here on Saturday," said the other. +"Did you see _him?_" + +"Oh, yes," said Helen; "that's what he came for. You can fancy how +glad I was to meet him. I spent a couple of hours walking in the +woods with him." + +Mrs. Roberts' look of dismay may be imagined; it was far too great +for her to hide. + +"Where is he now?" she asked, hastily. + +"Oh, he has gone home," said Helen; and she added, smiling, "he went +on Saturday afternoon, because he's writing a poem about +thunderstorms, and he wanted to study that one." + +The other was sufficiently convinced of the irresponsibility of +poets to be half uncertain whether Helen was joking or not; it was +very frequently difficult to tell, anyway, for Helen would look +serious and amuse herself by watching another person's mystification--a +trait of character which would have been intolerable in anyone less +fascinating than she. + +Perhaps Aunt Polly thought something of that as she sat and watched +the girl. Aunt Polly was a little woman who looked as if she herself +might have once made some pretense to being a belle, but she was +very humble before Helen. "My dear," she said, "every minute that I +watch you, I am astonished to see how wonderfully you have grown. Do +you know, Helen, you are glorious!" + +"Yes," said Helen, smiling delightedly. "Isn't it nice, Aunt Polly? +I'm so glad I'm beautiful." + +"You funny child," laughed the other. "What a queer thing to say!" + +"Am I not to know I am beautiful?" inquired Helen, looking at her +with open eyes. "Why, dear me! I can look at myself in the glass and +be just as happy as anyone else; I love everything beautiful." + +Aunt Polly beamed upon her. "I am glad of it, my dear," she laughed. +"I only wish I could say something to you to make you realize what +your wonderful beauty means." + +"How, Aunt Polly?" asked the girl. "Have you been reading poetry?" + +"No," said the other, "not exactly; but you know very well in your +heart what hopes I have for you, Helen, and I only wish you could +appreciate the gift that has been given you, and not fling it away +in any foolish fashion. With your talents and your education, my +dear, there is almost nothing that you might not do." + +"Yes," said Helen, with all of her seriousness, "I often think of +it; perhaps, Auntie, I might become a poetess!" + +The other looked aghast. Helen had seen the look on her aunt's face +at the mention of her walk with Arthur, and being a young lady of +electrical wit, had understood just what it meant, and just how the +rest of the conversation was intended to bear upon the matter; with +that advantage she was quite in her glory. + +"No, indeed, Aunt Polly," she said, "you can never tell; just +suppose, for instance, I were to fall in love with and marry a man +of wonderful genius, who would help me to devote myself to art? It +would not make any difference, you know, if he were poor--we could +struggle and help each other. And oh, I tell you, if I were to meet +such a man, and to know that he loved me truly, and to have proof +that he could remember me and be true to me, even when I was far +away, oh, I tell you, nothing could ever keep me--" + +Helen was declaiming her glowing speech with real fervor, her hands +dramatically outstretched. But she could not get any further, for +the look of utter horror upon her auditor's face was too much for +her; she dropped her hands and made the air echo with her laughter. + +"Oh, Aunt Polly, you goose!" she cried, flinging one arm about her, +"have you really forgotten me that much in three years?" + +The other was so relieved at the happy denouement of that fearful +tragedy that she could only protest, "Helen, Helen, why do you fool +me so?" + +"Because you fool me, or try to," said Helen. "When you have a +sermon to preach on the impropriety of walking in the woods alone +with a susceptible young poet, I wish you'd mount formally into the +pulpit and begin with the text." + +"My dear," laughed the other, "you are too quick; but I must +confess--" + +"Of course you must," said the girl; and she folded her hands meekly +and looked grave. "And now I am ready; and if you meet with any +difficulties in the course of your sermon, I've an expert at home +who has preached one hundred and four every year for twenty years, +all genuine and no two alike." + +"Helen," said the other, "I do wish you would talk seriously with +me. You are old enough to be your own mistress now, and to do as you +please, but you ought to realize that I have seen the world more +than you, and that my advice is worth something." + +"Tell it to me," said Helen, ceasing to laugh, and leaning back in +the carriage and gazing at her aunt. "What do you want me to do, now +that I am home? I will be really serious if you wish me to, for that +does interest me. I suppose that my education is finished?" + +"Yes," said the other, "it ought to be, certainly; you have had +every advantage that a girl can have, a great deal more than I ever +had. And you owe it all to me, Helen,--you do, really; if it hadn't +been for my insisting you'd have gotten all your education at +Hilltown, and you'd have played the piano and sung like Mary Nelson +across the way." + +Helen shuddered, and felt that that was cause indeed for gratitude. + +"It is true," said her aunt; "I've taken as much interest in you as +in any one of my own children, and you must know it. It was for no +reason at all but that I saw what a wonderful woman you promised to +become, and I was anxious to help you to the social position that I +thought you ought to have. And now, Helen, the chance is yours if +you care to take it." + +"I am taking it, am I not?" asked Helen; "I'm going with you, and I +shall be just as charming as I can." + +"Yes, I know," said the other, smiling a little; "but that is not +exactly what I mean." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Of course, my dear, you may enter good society a while by visiting +me; but that will not be permanently. You will have to marry into +it, Helen dear." + +"Marry!" echoed the girl, taken aback. "Dear me!" + +"You will wish to marry some time," said the other, "and so you +should look forward to it and choose your course. With your charms, +Helen, there is almost nothing that you might not hope for; you must +know yourself that you could make any man fall in love with you that +you wished. And you ought to know also that if you only had wealth +you could enter any society; for you have good birth, and you will +discover that you have more knowledge and more wit than most of the +people you meet." + +"I've discovered that already," said Helen, laughing. + +"All that you must do, my love," went on the other, "is to realize +what is before you, and make up your mind to what you want. You know +that your tastes are not those of a poor woman; you have been +accustomed to comfort, and you need refinement and wealth; you could +never be happy unless you could entertain your friends properly, and +live as you pleased." + +"But I don't want to marry a man just for his money," protested the +girl, not altogether pleased with her aunt's business-like view. + +"No one wants you to," the other responded; "you may marry for love +if you like; but it is not impossible to love a rich man, is it, +Helen?" + +"But, Aunt Polly," said Helen, "I am satisfied as I am now. I do not +want to marry anybody. The very idea makes me shudder." + +"I am not in the least anxious that you should," was the answer. +"You are young, and you may choose your own time. All I am anxious +for is that you should realize the future that is before you. It is +dreadful to me to think that you might throw your precious chance +away by some ridiculous folly." + +Helen looked at her aunt for a moment, and then the irrepressible +smile broke out. + +"What is the matter, child?" asked the other. + +"Nothing, except that I was thinking about how these thoughts were +brought up." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Apropos of my woodland walk with poor Arthur. Auntie, I do believe +you're afraid I'm going to fall in love with the dear fellow." + +"No," said Aunt Polly; "it is not exactly that, for I'd never be +able to sleep at night if I thought you capable of anything quite so +ghastly. But we must have some care of what people will think, my +dear Helen." + +As a matter of fact, Aunt Polly did have some very serious fears +about the matter, as has been hinted before; it was, perhaps, a kind +of tribute to the divine fire which even society's leaders pay. If +it had been a question of a person of her own sense and experience, +the word "genius" would have suggested no danger to Mrs. Roberts, +but it was different with a young and probably sentimental person +like Helen, with her inflaming beauty. + +"As a matter of fact, Aunt Polly," said Helen, "everybody +understands my intimacy with Arthur." + +"Tell me, Helen dear," said the other, turning her keen glance upon +her; "tell me the honest truth." + +"About what?" + +"You are not in love with Arthur?" + +And Helen answered her with her eyes very wide open: "No, I +certainly am not in the least." + +And the other drew secretly a great breath of relief. "Is he in love +with you, Helen?" she asked. + +As Helen thought of Arthur's departure, the question could not but +bring a smile. "I--I'm afraid he is," she said.--"a very little." + +"What a ridiculous impertinence!" exclaimed the other, indignantly. + +"Oh, that's all right, Auntie," said Helen; "he really can't help +it, you know." She paused for a moment, and then she went on: "Such +things used to puzzle me when I was very young, and I used to think +them quite exciting; but I'm getting used to them now. All the men +seem to fall in love with me,--they do, honestly, and I don't know +how in the world to help it. They all will make themselves wretched, +and I'm sure it isn't my fault. I haven't told you anything about my +German lovers, have I, Auntie?" + +"Gracious, no!" said the other; "were there any?" + +"Any?" laughed the girl. "I might have robbed the Emperor of a whole +colonel's staff, and the colonel at the head of it. But I'll tell +you about Johann, the funniest one of all; I think he really loved +me more than all the rest." + +"Pray, who was Johann?" asked Aunt Polly, thinking how fortunate it +was that she learned of these things only after the danger was over. + +"I never will forget the first time I met him," laughed the girl, +"the first day I went to the school. Johann was a little boy who +opened the door for me, and he stared at me as if he were in a +trance; he had the most wonderful round eyes, and puffy red cheeks +that made me always think I'd happened to ring the bell while he was +eating; and every time after that he saw me for three years he used +to gaze at me in the same helpless wonder, with all lingers of his +fat little hands wide apart." + +"What a disagreeable wretch!" said the other. + +"Not in the least," laughed Helen; "I liked him. But the funniest +part came afterwards, for when I came away Johann had grown a whole +foot, and was quite a man. I sent for him to put the straps on my +trunks, and guess what he did! He stared at me for a minute, just +the same as ever, and then he ran out of the room, blubbering like a +baby; and that's the last I ever saw of him." + +Helen was laughing as she told the story, but then she stopped and +looked a little conscience-stricken. "Do you know, Aunt Polly," she +said, "it is really a dreadful thing to make people unhappy like +that; I suppose poor Johann had spent three whole years dreaming +about the enchanted castle in which I was to be fairy princess." + +"It was a good chance for a romantic marriage," said the other. + +"Yes," said the girl, laughing again; "I tried to fancy it. He'd +have kept a Wirthshaus, I suppose, and I'd have served the guests; +and Arthur might have come, and I'd have cut Butterbrod for him and +he could have been my Werther! Wouldn't Arthur have made a fine +Werther, though, Aunt Polly?" + +"And blown his brains out afterwards," added the other. + +"No," said Helen, "brains are too scarce; I'd rather have him follow +Goethe's example and write a book about it instead. You know I don't +believe half the things these poets tell you, for I think they put +themselves through their dreadful experiences just to tell about +them and make themselves famous. Don't you believe that, Auntie?" + +"I don't know," said the other (a statement which she seldom made). +"I don't know much about such things. Nobody reads poetry any more, +you know, Helen, and it doesn't really help one along very much." + +"It doesn't do any harm, does it?" inquired the girl, smiling to +herself, "just a little, once in a while?" + +"Oh, no, of course not," said the other; "I believe that a woman +ought to have a broad education, for she never knows what may be the +whims of the men she meets, or what turn a conversation may take. +All I'm afraid of, Helen, is that if you fill your mind with +sentimental ideas you might be so silly as to fancy that you were +doing something romantic in throwing your one great chance away upon +some worthless nobody. I want you to realize what you are, Helen, +and that you owe something to yourself, and to your family, too; for +the Roberts have always had wealth and position until your mother +chose to marry a poor man. What I warn you of now is exactly what I +warned her of. Your father is a good man, but he had absolutely +nothing to make your mother happy; she was cut off from everything +she had been used to,--she could not even keep a carriage. And of +course she could not receive her old friends, very few of them cared +to have anything more to do with her, and so she simply pined away +in discontentment and miserable poverty. You have had an easy life, +Helen, and you have no idea of what a horrible thing it is to be +poor; you have had the best of teachers, and you have lived at an +expensive school, and of course you have always had me to rely upon +to introduce you to the right people; but if you married a poor man +you couldn't expect to keep any of those advantages. I don't speak +of your marrying a man who had no money at all, for that would be +too fearful to talk about; but suppose you were to take any one of +the young men you might meet at Oakdale even, you'd have to live in +a mean little house, and do with one or two servants, and worry +yourself about the butcher's bills and brush your own dresses and +drive your own horse. And how long do you suppose it would be before +you repented of that? Think of having to be like those poor Masons, +for instance; they are nice people, and I like them, but I hate to +go there, for every time I can't help seeing that the parlor +furniture is more dingy, and thinking how miserable they must be, +not to be able to buy new things. And their servants' liveries are +half worn too; and when you dine there you see that Mrs. Mason is +eating with a plated fork, because she has not enough of her best +silver to go around. All those things are trifles, Helen, but think +of the worry they must give those poor people, who are pinching +themselves and wearing themselves out soul and body, trying to keep +in the station where they belong, or used to. Poor Mrs. Mason is +pale and nervous and wrinkled at forty, and those three poor girls, +who spend their time making over their old dresses, are so +dowdy-looking and uneasy that no man ever glances at them twice. +It is such misery as that which I dread for you, Helen, and why I am +talking to you. There is no reason why you should take upon you such +sorrows; you have a clear head, and you can think for yourself and +make up your mind about things if you only won't blind yourself by +foolish sentimentality. You have been brought up to a certain +station in life, and no man has a right to offer himself to you +unless he can maintain you in that station. There is really no +scarcity of such men, Helen, and you'd have no trouble in finding +one. There are hundreds of men in New York who are worth millions, +and who would fling themselves and their wealth at your feet if you +would have them. And you would find such a difference between the +opportunities of pleasure and command that such a chance would give +you and the narrow life that you lead in this little town that you +would wonder how you could ever have been satisfied. It is difficult +for you to realize what I mean, my dear, because you have only a +schoolgirl's knowledge of life and its pleasures, but when you are +in the world, and have learned what power is, and what it means to +possess such beauty as yours, you will feel your heart swelling with +a new pleasure, and you will thank me for what I tell you. I have +figured a wonderful triumph for you, Helen, and it is time you knew +what is before you. Of what use is your beauty, if you do not carry +it into a wide enough sphere, where it can bring you the admiration +and homage you deserve? You need such a field, Helen, to discover +your own powers in; believe me, my dear, there is really a higher +ambition in the world than to be a country clergyman's daughter." + +"Is there any higher than being happy, Auntie?" asked Helen. + +The importance of that observation was beyond the other's ken, as +indeed it was beyond Helen's also; she had thrown it out as a chance +remark. + +"Mr. Roberts and I were talking about this last night," went on Aunt +Polly, "and he told me that I ought to talk seriously to you about +it, and get you to realize what a golden future is before you. For +it is really true, Helen, as sure as you can trust what I know about +the world, that you can have absolutely anything that you want. That +is the long and short of the matter--anything that you want! And why +should you not have the very best that life can give you? Why should +you have to know that other people dwell in finer houses than yours, +and are free from cares that make you ill? Why should you have the +humiliation of being looked down upon and scorned by other people? +Are these other people more entitled to luxury than you, or more +able to enjoy it; or could anyone do it more honor than you? You are +beautiful beyond telling; you have every gift that a woman can ask +to complete enjoyment of life; you are perfect, Helen, you are +really perfect! You _must_ know that; you must say it to yourself +when you are alone, and know that your life ought to be a queenly +triumph. You have only to stretch out your arms and everything will +come to you; and there is really and truly no end to the happiness +you can taste." + +Helen was gazing at the other with real earnestness, and the words +were sinking deep into her soul, deeper than words generally sunk +there. She felt her cheeks burning, and her frame stirred by a new +emotion; she had seldom before thought of anything but the happiness +of the hour. + +"Just think of it, my love," continued Mrs. Roberts, "and know that +that is what your old auntie was thinking of when you were only a +little tiny girl, sitting upon her knee, and when you were so +beautiful that artists used to beg to have you pose for them. I +never said anything about it then, because you were too young to +understand these things; but now that you are to manage yourself, I +have been waiting for a chance to tell you, so that you may see what +a prize is yours if you are only wise. And if you wonder why I have +cared so much and thought so much of what might be yours, the only +reason I can give is that you are my niece, and that I felt that any +triumph you might win would be mine. I want you to win a higher +place in the world than mine, Helen; I never had such a gift as +yours." + +Helen was silent for a minute, deeply thoughtful. + +"Tell me, Auntie," she asked, "and is it really true, then, that a +woman is to train herself and grow beautiful and to have so much +trouble and money spent upon her--only for her marriage?" + +"Why of course, Helen; what else can a woman do? Unless you have +money and a husband you cannot possibly hope to accomplish anything +in society. With your talents and your beauty you might go anywhere +and rule anywhere, but you have to have money before you can even +begin." + +"But where am I to meet such a rich man, Aunt Polly?" asked Helen. + +"You know perfectly well where. Do you suppose that after I have +worried myself about you all this time I mean to desert you now, +when you are at the very climax of your glory, when you are all that +I ever dared dream of? My dear Helen, I am more interested in you +just now than in anything else in the world. I feel as a card player +feels when millions are at stake, and when he knows that he holds +the perfect hand." + +"That is very nice," said Helen, laughing nervously. "But there is +always a chance of mistake." + +"There is none this time, Helen, for I am an old player, and I have +been picking and arranging my hand for long, long years; and you are +the hand, my love, and the greatest glory of it all must be yours." + +Helen's heart was throbbing still faster with excitement, as if she +were already tasting the wonderful triumph that was before her; her +aunt was watching her closely, noting how the blood was mounting to +her bright cheeks. The girl felt herself suddenly choking with her +pent up excitement, and she stretched out her arms with a strange +laugh. + +"Auntie," she said, "you tell me too much at once." + +The other had been marshaling her forces like a general during the +last few minutes, and she felt just then as if there were nothing +left but the rout. "All that I tell you, you may see for yourself," +she said. "I don't ask you to take anything on my word, for you have +only to look in the glass and compare yourself with the women you +meet. You will find that all men will turn their eyes upon you when +you enter a room." + +Helen did not consider it necessary to debate that question. "You +have invited some rich man to meet me at your house?" she asked. + +"I was going to say nothing to you about it at first," said the +other, "and let you find out. But I thought afterwards that it would +be better to tell you, so that you could manage for yourself. I have +invited all the men whom Mr. Roberts and I thought it would be best +for you to meet." + +Helen gazed at her aunt silently for a moment, and then she broke +into a nervous laugh. "A regular exposition!" she said; "and you'll +bring them out one by one and put them through their paces, won't +you, Auntie? And have them labeled for comparison,--so that I can +tell just what stocks they own and how they stand on the 'Street'! +Do you remember the suitor in Moliere?--_'J'ai quinze mille livres +de rente; j'ai le corps sain; j'ai des beaux dents!_'" + +It was a flash of Helen's old merriment, but it did not seem so +natural as usual, even to her. She forced herself to laugh, for she +was growing more and more excited and uneasy. + +"My dear," said Aunt Polly, "please do not begin making fun again." + +"But you must let me joke a little, Auntie," said the girl. "I have +never been serious for so long before." + +"You ought to be serious about it, my dear." + +"I will," said Helen. "I have really listened attentively; you must +tell me all about these rich men that I am to meet, and what I am to +do. I hope I am not the only girl." + +"Of course not," was the response; "I would not do anything +ridiculous. I have invited a number of other girls--but they won't +trouble you in the least." + +"No," said Helen. "I am not afraid of other girls; but what's to be +done? It's a sort of house-warming, I suppose?" + +"Yes," was the reply, "I suppose so, for I only came down last week +myself. I have asked about twenty people for a week or two; they all +know each other, more or less, so there won't be much formality. We +shall amuse ourselves with coaching and golf, and anything else we +please; and of course there will be plenty of music in the evening." + +Helen smiled at the significant tone of her aunt's voice. "Are the +people there now?" she asked. + +"Those who live anywhere in the neighborhood are; most of the men +will be down on the afternoon train, in time for dinner." + +"And tell me who are the men, Auntie?" + +"I'm afraid I won't have time," said Mrs. Roberts, glancing out of +the carriage. "We are too near home. But I will tell you about one +of them, if you like." + +"The king-bee?" laughed Helen. "Is there a king-bee?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Roberts; "there is. At any rate, my husband and I +think he is, and we are anxious to see what you think. His name is +Gerald Harrison, and he comes from Cincinnati." + +"Oh, dear," said Helen, "I hate to meet men from the West. He must +be a pork-packer, or something horrible." + +"No," said the other, "he is a railroad president." + +"And why do you think he's the king-bee; is he very rich?" + +"He is worth about ten million dollars," said Aunt Polly. + +Helen gazed at her wildly. "Ten million dollars!" she gasped. + +"Yes," said the other; "about that, probably a little more. Mr. +Roberts knows all about his affairs." + +Helen was staring into her aunt's face. "Tell me," she asked, very +nervously indeed. "Tell me, honestly!" + +"What?" + +"Is that the man you are bringing me here to meet?" + +"Yes, Helen," said the other quietly. + +The girl's hands were clasped tightly together just then. "Aunt +Polly," she asked, "what kind of a man is he? I will not marry a bad +man!" + +"A bad man, child? How ridiculous! Do you suppose I would ask you to +marry a bad man, if he owned all New York? I want you to be happy. +Mr. Harrison is a man who has made his own fortune, and he is a man +of tremendous energy. Everyone is obliged to respect him." + +"But he must be old, Auntie." + +"He is very young, Helen, only about forty." + +"Dear me," said the girl, "I could never marry a man as old as +forty; and then, I'd have to go out West!" + +"Mr. Harrison has come to New York to live," was the other's reply. +"He has just bought a really magnificent country seat about ten +miles from here--the old Everson place, if you remember it; and he +is negotiating for a house near ours in the city. My husband and I +both agreed, Helen, that if you could make Mr. Harrison fall in love +with you it would be all that we could desire." + +"That is not the real problem," Helen said, gazing out of the +carriage with a frightened look upon her face; "it is whether I can +fall in love with him. Aunt Polly, it is dreadful to me to think of +marrying; I don't want to marry! I don't care who the man is!" + +"We'll see about that later on," said the other, smiling +reassuringly, and at the same time putting her arm about the girl; +"there is no hurry, my love, and no one has the least thought of +asking you to do what you do not want to do. But a chance like this +does not come often to any girl, my dear. Mr. Harrison is in every +way a desirable man." + +"But he's stupid, Aunt Polly, I know he's stupid! All self-made men +are; they tell you about how they made themselves, and what +wonderful things they hare made!" + +"You must of course not expect to find Mr. Harrison as cultured as +yourself, Helen," was the reply; "his education has been that of the +world, and not of books. But nobody thinks less of a man for that in +the world; the most one can ask is that he does not make pretenses. +And he is very far from stupid, I assure you, or he would not have +been what he is." + +"I suppose not," said Helen, weakly. + +"And, besides," observed Aunt Polly, laughing to cheer the girl up, +"I assure you it doesn't make any difference. My husband makes no +pretense to being a wit, or a musician, or anything like that; he's +just a plain, sensible man, but we get along as happily as you could +wish. We each of us go our own way, and understand each other +perfectly." + +"So I'm to marry a plain, sensible man?" asked the girl, apparently +not much comforted by the observation. + +"A plain, sensible man with ten million dollars, my dear," said Aunt +Polly, "who adores you and has nothing to do with his money but to +let you make yourself happy and glorious with it? But don't worry +yourself, my child, because the first thing for you to feel is that +if you don't like him you need not take him. It all rests upon you; +he won't be here till after the rest, till the evening train, so you +can have time to think it over and calculate whether ten million +dollars will buy anything you want." And Mrs. Roberts laughed. + +Then the carriage having passed within the gates of her home, she +kissed the girl upon her cheek. "By the way," she added, "if you +want to meet a romantic person to offset Mr. Harrison, I'll tell you +about Mr. Howard. I haven't mentioned him, have I?" + +"I never heard of him," said Helen. + +"It's a real romance," said the other. "You didn't suppose that your +sensible old auntie could have a romance, did you?" + +"Tell me about it," laughed Helen. + +The carriage was driving up the broad avenue that led to the Roberts +house; it was a drive of a minute or two, however, and so Aunt Polly +had time for a hasty explanation. + +"It was over twenty years ago," she said, "before your mother was +married, and when our family had a camp up in the Adirondacks; there +were only two others near us, and in each of them there was a young +man about my age. We three were great friends for three or four +years, but we've never seen each other since till a short while +ago." + +"And one of them is this man?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Roberts; "his name is David Howard; I met him quite +by accident the other day, and recognized him. He lives all alone, +in the winter in New York somewheres, and in the summer up at the +same place in the mountains; he's the most romantic man you ever +met, and I know you'll find him interesting. He's a poet, I fancy, +or a musician at any rate, and he's a very great scholar." + +"Is he rich too?" asked the girl, laughing. + +"I fancy not," was the reply, "but I can't tell; he lives very +plainly." + +"Aren't you afraid I'll fall in love with him, Auntie?" + +"No," said the other, smiling to herself; "I'm not worrying about +that." + +"Why not?" + +"Wait till you see him, my dear," was the reply; "if you choose him +for a husband I'll give my consent." + +"That sounds mysterious," observed the girl, gazing at her aunt; +"tell me, is he here now?" + +"Yes," said Aunt Polly; "he's been here a day or two; but I don't +think you'll see him at dinner, because he has been feeling unwell +today; he may be down a while this evening, for I've been telling +him about you, and he's anxious to see you. You must be nice to him, +Helen, and try to feel as sorry for him as I do." + +"Sorry for him?" echoed the girl with a start. + +"Yes, my dear, he is an invalid, with some very dreadful +affliction." + +And Helen stared at her aunt. "An affliction!" she cried. "Aunt +Polly, that is horrible! What in the world did you invite an invalid +for at this time, with all the other people? I _hate_ invalids!" + +"I had asked him before," was the apologetic reply, "and so I +couldn't help it. I had great difficulty in getting him to promise +to come anyway, for he's a very strange, solitary man. But I wanted +to have my little romance, and renew our acquaintance, and this was +the only time the third party could come." + +"Oh, the third one is here too?" + +"He will be in a day or two." + +"Who is he?" + +"His name is Lieutenant Maynard, and he's in the navy; he's +stationed at Brooklyn just now, but he expects to get leave for a +while." + +"That is a little better," Helen remarked, as the carriage was +drawing up in front of the great house. "I'd marry a naval officer." + +"No," laughed Aunt Polly; "he leaves a wife and some children in +Brooklyn. We three are going to keep to ourselves and talk about old +times and what has happened to us since then, and so you young folks +will not be troubled by us." + +"I hope you will," said the other, "for I can't ever be happy with +invalids." + +And there, as the carriage door was opened, the conversation ended +abruptly. When Helen had sprung out she found that there were six or +eight people upon the piazza, to whom the excitement of being +introduced drove from her mind for a time all thoughts which her +aunt's words had brought. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + + "If chance will have me king, why chance may crown me, + Without my stir." + +Most of the people whom Helen met upon her arrival were of her own +sex, so that she did not feel called upon to make special exertions +to please them; but she was naturally cheerful and happy with +everyone, and the other matters of which Mrs. Roberts had talked +took on such vast proportions before her mind that it was a relief +to her to put them aside and enjoy herself for a while in her usual +way. Helen was glad that most of the men were to arrive later, so +that she might make her appearance before them under the most +favorable circumstances. When she heard the distant whistle of the +afternoon train a couple of hours later, it was with that thought +that she retired to her room to rest before dressing. + +Aunt Polly, following her plan of accustoming the girl to a proper +style of living, had engaged a maid to attend her during her stay; +and Helen found therefore that her trunks were unpacked and +everything in order. It was a great relief to her to be rid of all +care, and she took off her dress and flung herself down upon the bed +to think. + +Helen had imbided during her Sunday-school days the usual formulas +of dogmatic religion, but upon matters of morality her ideas were of +the vaguest possible description. The guide of her life had always +been her instinct for happiness, her "genial sense of youth." She +had never formulated any rule of life to herself, but that which she +sought was joy, primarily for herself, and incidentally for other +people, because unhappy people were disturbing (unless it were +possible to avoid them). In debating within herself the arguments +which her aunt had brought before her mind, it was that principle +chiefly by which she tested them. + +To the girl's eager nature, keenly sensitive to pleasure and greedy +for it, the prospect so suddenly flung wide before her eyes was so +intoxicating that again and again as she thought of it it made her +tremble and burn. So far as Helen could see at that moment, a +marriage with this Mr. Harrison would mean the command of every +source of happiness; and upon a scale so magnificent, so belittling +of everything she had known before, that she shrank from it as +something impossible and unnatural. Again and again she buried her +heated brow in her hands and muttered: "I ought to have known it +before! I ought to have had time to realize it." + +That which restrained the girl from welcoming such an opportunity, +from clasping it to her in ecstasy and flinging herself madly into +the whirl of pleasure it held out, was not so much her conscience +and the ideals which she had formed more or less vaguely from the +novels and poems she had read, as the instinct of her maidenhood, +which made her shrink from the thought of marriage with a man whom +she did not love. So strong was this feeling in her that at first +she felt that she could not even bear to be introduced to him with +such an idea in her mind. + +It was Aunt Polly's wisdom and diplomacy which finally overcame her +scruples enough to persuade her to that first step; Helen kept +thinking of her aunt's words--that no one wanted to compel her to +marry the man, that she might do just as she chose. She argued that +it was foolish to worry herself, or to be ill at ease. She might see +what sort of a man he was; if he fell in love with her it would do +no harm,--Helen was not long in discovering by the increased pace of +her pulses that she would find it exciting to have everyone know +that a multimillionaire was in love with her. "As for the rest," she +said to herself, "we'll see when the time comes," and knew not that +one who goes to front his life's temptation with that resolution is +a mariner who leaves the steering of his vessel to the tempest. + +She had stilled her objection by such arguments, and was just +beginning to feel the excitement of the prospect once more, when the +maid knocked at the door and asked to know if mademoiselle were +ready to dress for dinner. And mademoiselle arose and bathed her +face and arms and was once more her old refreshed and rejoicing +self, ready for that mysterious and wonderful process which was to +send her out an hour or two later a vision of perfectness, +compounded of the hues of the rose and the odors of evening, with +the new and unutterable magic that is all the woman's own. Besides +the prospects her aunt had spoken of, there were reasons enough why +Helen should be radiant, for it was her first recognized appearance +in high society; and so she sat in front of the tall mirror and +criticised every detail of the coiffure which the maid prepared, and +eyed by turns her gleaming neck and shoulders and the wonderful +dress, as yet unworn, which shone from the bed through its covering +of tissue paper; and was all the time so filled with joy and delight +that it was a pleasure to be near her. Soon Aunt Polly, clad in +plain black as a sign that she retired in favor of Helen, came in to +assist and superintend the toilet. So serious at the task, and so +filled with a sense of its importance and the issues that were +staked upon it was she and the maid also, that one would not dare +think of the humor of the situation if Helen herself had not broken +the spell by declaring that she felt like an Ashantee warrior being +decked out for battle with plumes and war paint, or like Rinaldo, or +Amadis donning his armor. + +And Helen was in fact going to war, a war for which nature has been +training woman since the first fig-tree grew. She carried a bow +strong as the one of Ulysses, which no man could draw, and an arrow +sharp as the sunbeam and armed with a barb; for a helmet, beside her +treasure of golden hair, she wore one rose, set there with the art +that conceals art, so that it was no longer a red rose, but one more +bright perfection that had come to ripeness about the glowing +maiden. Her dress was of the same color, a color which when worn +upon a woman is a challenge, crying abroad that here is perfection +beyond envy and beyond praise. + +When the last touch was finished and Helen gazed upon herself, with +her bare shoulders and arms and her throat so soft and white, she +knew that she was, compared to all about her, a vision from another +world. Chiefest of all, she knew that neither arms and shoulders, +nor robe, nor gleaming hair, would ever be thought of when once the +face that smiled upon her with its serene perfectness had caught the +eye; she knew that as usual, men must start when they saw her, and +never take their eyes from her. The thought filled her with an +exulting consciousness of power, and reared her form with a new +dignity, and made her chest heave and her cheeks burn with yet a new +beauty. + +When everything was ready, Aunt Polly's husband was called in to +gaze upon her. A little man was Aunt Polly's husband, with black +side whiskers and a head partly bald; a most quiet and unobtrusive +person, looking just what he had been represented,--a "plain, +sensible man," who attended to his half of the family affairs, and +left the other half to his wife. He gazed upon Helen and blinked +once or twice, as if blinded by so much beauty, and then took the +end of her fingers very lightly in his and pronounced her +"absolutely perfect." "And, my dear," he added, "it's after seven, +so perhaps we'd best descend." + +So he led the girl down to her triumph, to the handsome parlors of +the house where eight or ten men were strolling about. It was quite +exciting to Helen to meet them, for they were all strangers, and +Aunt Polly had apparently considered Mr. Harrison of so much +importance that she had said nothing about the others, leaving her +niece at liberty to make what speculations she pleased. + +It was a brilliant company which was seated in the dining room a +short while later. As it was assembled in Helen's honor, Aunt Polly +had taken care to bring those who would please the girl, and +represent high life and luxury at its best; all of the guests were +young, and therefore perfect. The members of the "smart set," when +they have passed the third decade, are apt to show signs of +weariness; a little of their beauty and health is gone, and some of +their animation, and all of their joy,--so that one may be led to +ask himself if there be not really something wrong about their views +and ways of living. When they are young, however, they represent the +possibilities of the human animal in all things external. In some +wonderful way known only to themselves they have managed to +manipulate the laws of men so as to make men do for them all the +hard and painful tasks of life, so that they have no care but to +make themselves as beautiful and as clever and as generally +excellent as selfishness can be. Helen, of course, was not in the +least troubled about the selfishness, and she was quite satisfied +with externals. She saw about her perfect toilets and perfect +manners; she saw everyone as happy as she liked everyone to be; and +the result was that her spirits took fire, and she was clever and +fascinating beyond even herself. She carried everything before her, +and performed the real feat of dominating the table by her beauty +and cleveness, without being either presumptuous or vain. Aunt Polly +replied to the delighted looks of her husband at the other end of +the table, and the two only wished that Mr. Harrison had been there +then. + +As a matter of fact, Helen had forgotten Mr. Harrison entirely, and +he did not come back to her mind until the dinner was almost over, +when suddenly she heard the bell ring. It was just the time that he +was due to arrive, and so she knew that she would see him in another +half hour. In the exultation of the present moment all of her +hesitation was gone, and she was as ready to meet him as her aunt +could have wished. + +When the party rose a few minutes later and went into the parlors +again, Helen was the first to enter, upon the arm of her neighbor. +She was thinking of Mr. Harrison; and as she glanced about her, she +could not keep from giving a slight start. Far down at the other end +of the room she had caught sight of the figure of a man, and her +first thought had been that it must be the millionaire. His frail, +slender form was more than half concealed by the cushions of the +sofa upon which he was seated, but even so, Helen could discover +that he was a slight cripple. + +The man rose as the party entered, and Aunt Polly went towards him; +she apparently expected her niece to follow and be introduced to the +stranger, but in the meantime the truth had occurred to Helen, that +it must be the Mr. Howard she had been told of; she turned to one +side with her partner, and began remarking the pictures in the room. + +When she found opportunity, she glanced over and saw that the man +had seated himself on the sofa and was talking to Mrs. Roberts. He +looked, as Helen thought, all the invalid her aunt had described him +to be, for his face was white and very wan, so that it made her +shudder. "Dear me!" she exclaimed to herself, "I don't think such a +man ought to go into public." And she turned resolutely away, and +set herself to the task of forgetting him, which she very easily +did. + +A merry party was soon gathered about her, rejoicing in the glory of +her presence, and listening to the stories which she told of her +adventures in Europe. Helen kept the circle well in hand that way, +and was equally ready when one of the young ladies turned the +conversation off upon French poetry in the hope of eclipsing her. +Thus her animation continued without rest until Mrs. Roberts +escorted one of the guests to the piano to sing for them. + +"She's keeping me for Mr. Harrison," thought Helen, laughing +mischievously to herself; "and I suppose she's picked out the worst +musician first, so as to build up a climax." + +It seemed as if that might have been the plan for a fact; the +performer sang part of Gluck's "J'ai perdu mon Eurydice," in strange +French, and in a mournful voice which served very well to display +the incompatibility of the melody and the words. As it happened, +however, Mistress Helen heard not a word of the song, for it had +scarcely begun before she turned her eyes towards the doorway and +caught sight of a figure that drove all other ideas from her mind. +Mr. Harrison had come at last. + +He was a tall, dignified man, and Helen's first feeling was of +relief to discover that he was neither coarse-looking, nor even +plain. He had rather too bright a complexion, and rather too large a +sandy mustache, but his clothes fitted him, and he seemed to be at +ease as he glanced about him and waited in the doorway for the young +lady at the piano to finish. While the faint applause was still +sounding he entered with Mrs. Roberts, moving slowly across the +room. "And now!" thought Helen, "now for it!" + +As she expected, the two came towards her, and Mr. Harrison was +presented; Helen, who was on the watch with all her faculties, +decided that he bore that trial tolerably, for while his admiration +of course showed itself, he did not stare, and he was not +embarrassed. + +"I am a little late, I fear," he said; "have I missed much of the +music?" + +"No," said Helen, "that was the first selection." + +"I am glad of that," said the other. + +According to the laws which regulate the drifting of conversation, +it was next due that Helen should ask if he were fond of singing; +and then that he should answer that he was very fond of it, which he +did. + +"Mrs. Roberts tells me you are a skillful musician," he added; "I +trust that I shall hear you?" + +Helen of course meant to play, and had devoted some thought to the +selection of her program; therefore she answered: "Possibly; we +shall see by and by." + +"I am told that you have been studying in Germany," was the next +observation. "Do you like Germany?" + +"Very much," said Helen. "Only they made me work very hard at music, +and at everything else." + +"That is perhaps why you are a good player," said Mr. Harrison. + +"You ought to wait until you hear me," the girl replied, following +his example of choosing the most obvious thing to say. + +"I fear I am not much of a critic," said the other. + +And so the conversation drifted on for several minutes, Mr. +Harrison's remarks being so very uninspiring that his companion +could find no way to change the subject to anything worth talking +about. + +"Evidently," the girl thought, during a momentary lull, "he has +learned all the rules of talking, and that's why he's at ease. But +dear me, what an awful prospect! It would kill me to have to do this +often. But then, to be sure I shan't see him in the day time, and in +the evenings we should not be at home. One doesn't have to be too +intimate with one's husband, I suppose. And then--" + +"I think," said Mr. Harrison, "that your aunt is coming to ask you +to play." + +That was Aunt Polly's mission, for a fact, and Helen was much +relieved, for she had found herself quite helpless to lift the +conversation out of the slough of despond into which it had fallen; +she wanted a little time to collect her faculties and think of +something clever to start with again. When in answer to the request +of Aunt Polly she arose and went to the piano, the crushed feeling +of course left her, and her serenity returned; for Helen was at home +at the piano, knowing that she could do whatever she chose, and do +it without effort. It was a stimulus to her faculties to perceive +that a general hush had fallen upon the room, and that every eye was +upon her; as she sat down, therefore, all her old exultation was +back. + +She paused a moment to collect herself, and gave one easy glance +down the room at the groups of people. She caught a glimpse as she +did so of Mr. Howard, who was still seated upon the sofa, leaning +forward and resting his chin in his hand and fixing his eyes upon +her. At another time the sight of his wan face might perhaps have +annoyed the girl, but she was carried beyond that just then by the +excitement of the moment; her glance came back to the piano, and +feeling that everyone was attentive and expectant, she began. + +Helen numbered in her repertoire a good many pieces that were +hopelessly beyond the technic of the average salon pianist, and she +had chosen the most formidable with which to astonish her hearers +that evening. She had her full share of that pleasure which people +get from concerning themselves with great things: a pleasure which +is responsible for much of the reading, and especially the +discussing, of the world's great poets, and which brings forth many +lofty sentiments from the numerous class of persons who combine +idealism with vanity. Helen's selection was the first movement of +the "Sonata Appassionata," and she was filled with a pleasing sense +of majesty and importance as she began. She liked the first theme +especially because it was striking and dignified and never failed to +attract attention; and in what followed there was room for every +shading of tone, from delicate softness that showed much feeling and +sympathy, to stunning fortissimos that made everyone stare. The girl +was relieved of any possible fear by the certainty that the +composition was completely beyond her hearers' understanding, and so +she soon lost herself in her task, and, as her excitement mounted, +played with splendid spirit and abandon. Her calculations proved +entirely well made, for when she stopped she received a real +ovation, having genuinely astonished her hearers; and she crossed +the room, beaming radiantly upon everyone and acknowledging their +compliments, more assured of triumph than ever before. To cap the +climax, when she reached her seat she found Mr. Harrison betraying +completely his profound admiration, his gaze being riveted upon the +glowing girl as she sat down beside him. + +"Miss Davis," he said, with evident sincerity, "that was really +wonderful!" + +"Thank you very much," said Helen, radiantly. + +"It was the most splendid piano playing I have ever heard in my life," +the other went on. "Pray what was it that you played--something new?" + +"Oh, no," was the answer, "it is very old indeed." + +"Ah," said Mr. Harrison, "those old composers were very great men." + +"Yes," said Helen, demurely. + +"I was astonished to see with what ease you played," the other +continued, "and yet so marvelously fast! That must be a fearfully +hard piece of music to play." + +"Yes, it is," said Helen; "but it is quite exciting," she added, +fanning herself and laughing. + +Helen was at the top of her being just then, and in perfect command +of things; she had no idea of letting herself be dragged down into +the commonplace again. "I think it's about time I was fascinating +him," she said to herself, and she started in, full of merriment and +life. Taking her last remark as a cue, she told him funny stories +about the eccentricities of the sonata's great composer, how he +would storm and rage up and down his room like a madman, and how he +hired a boy to pump water over his head by the hour, in case of +emergency. + +Mr. Harrison remarked that it was funny how all musicians were such +queer chaps, but even that did not discourage Helen. She rattled on, +quite as supremely captivating as she had been at the dinner table, +and as she saw that her companion was yielding to her spell, the +color mounted to her cheeks and her blood flowed faster yet. + +It is of the nature of such flame to feed itself, and Helen grew the +more exulting as she perceived her success,--and consequently all +the more irresistible. The eyes of the man were soon riveted upon +the gorgeous vision of loveliness before him, and the contagion of +the girl's animation showed itself even in him, for he brightened a +little, and was clever enough to startle himself. It was a new +delight and stimulus to Helen to perceive it, and she was soon swept +away in much the same kind of nervous delight as her phantasy with +the thunderstorm. The sofa upon which the two were seated had been +somewhat apart from the rest, and so they had nothing to disturb +them. A short half hour fled by, during which Helen's daring +animation ruled everything, and at the end of which Mr. Harrison was +quite oblivious to everything about him. + +There were others, however, who were watching the affair; the +keen-eyed Aunt Polly was comprehending all with joy, but she was as +ever calculating and prudent, and she knew that Helen's monopoly of +Mr. Harrison would soon become unpleasantly conspicuous, especially +as she had so far introduced him to no one else. She felt that +little would be lost by breaking the spell, for what the girl was +doing then she might do any time she chose; and so after waiting a +while longer she made her way unobtrusively over to them and joined +their conversation. + +Helen of course understood her aunt's meaning, and acquiesced; she +kept on laughing and talking for a minute or two more, and then at a +lull in the conversation she exclaimed: "But I've been keeping Mr. +Harrison here talking to me, and nobody else has seen anything of +him." And so Mr. Harrison, inwardly anathematizing the rest of the +company, was compelled to go through a long series of handshakings, +and finally to be drawn into a group of young persons whose +conversation seemed to him the most inane he had ever heard in his +life. + +In the meantime someone else was giving a piano selection, one which +Helen had never heard, but which sounded to every one like a finger +exercise after her own meteoric flight; the girl sat half listening +to it and half waiting for her aunt to return, which Mrs. Roberts +finally did, beaming with gratitude. + +"My love," she whispered, "you are an angel; you have done better +than I ever dreamed of!" + +And Helen felt her blood give a sudden leap that was not quite +pleasant; the surging thoughts that were in her mind at that moment +brought back the nervous trembling she had felt in the carriage, so +that she leaned against the sofa for support. + +"Now listen, my dear," the other went swiftly on, perhaps divining +the girl's state, "I want you to do a great favor for me." + +"Was not that for you, Auntie?" asked Helen, weakly. + +"No, my dear, that was for yourself. But this--" + +"What is it?" + +"I want you to come and talk to my David Howard a little while." + +The girl gave a start, and turned a little paler. "Aunt Polly," she +exclaimed, "not now! He looks so ill, it makes me nervous even to +see him." + +"But, Helen, my dear, that is nonsense," was the reply. "Mr. Howard +is one of the most interesting men you ever met. He knows more than +all the people in this room together, and you will forget he is an +invalid when you have talked to him a while." + +Helen was, or wished to think herself, upon the heights of happiness +just then, and she shrunk more than ever from anything that was +wretched. "Not now, Aunt Polly," she said, faintly. "Please wait +until--" + +"But, my dear," said Aunt Polly, "now is the very time; you will +wish to be with Mr. Harrison again soon. And you must meet Mr. +Howard, for that is what he came for." + +"I suppose then I'll have to," said Helen, knitting her brows; "I'll +stroll over in a minute or two." + +"All right," said the other; "and please try to get acquainted with +him, Helen, for I want you to like him." + +"I will do my best," said the girl. "He won't talk about his +ailments, will he?" + +"No," said the other, laughing, "I fancy not. Talk to him about +music--he's a great musician, you know." + +And as her aunt left the room, Helen stole a side glance at the man, +who was alone upon the sofa just then. His chin was still resting in +his hand, and he was looking at Helen as before. As she glanced at +him thus he seemed to be all head, or rather all forehead, for his +brow was very high and white, and was set off by heavy black hair. + +"He does look interesting," the girl thought, as she forced a smile +and walked across the room; her aunt entered at the same time, as if +by accident, and the two approached Mr. Howard. As he saw them +coming he rose, with some effort as Helen noticed, and with a very +slight look of pain; it cost her some resolution to give the man her +hand. In a minute or two more, however, they were seated alone upon +the sofa, Aunt Polly having gone off with the remark to Helen that +she had made Mr. Howard promise to talk to her about music, and that +they both knew too much about it for her. "You must tell Helen all +about her playing," she added to him, laughingly. + +And then Helen, to carry on the conversation, added, "I should be +very much pleased if you would." + +"I am afraid it is an ungracious task Mrs. Roberts has chosen me," +the man answered, smiling. "Critics are not a popular race." + +"It depends upon the critics," said Helen. "They must be sincere." + +"That is just where they get into trouble," was the response. + +"It looks as if he were going to be chary with his praise," thought +Helen, feeling just the least bit uncomfortable. She thought for a +moment, and then said, not without truth, "You pique my curiosity, +Mr. Howard." + +"My criticism could not be technical," said the other, smiling, +again, "for I am not a pianist." + +"You play some other instrument?" asked Helen; afterwards she added, +mischievously, "or are you just a critic?" + +"I play the violin," the man answered. + +"You are going to play for us this evening?" + +"No," said the other, "I fear I shall not." + +"Why not?" Helen inquired. + +"I have not been feeling very well to-day," was the response. "But I +have promised your aunt to play some evening; we had quite a long +dispute." + +"You do not like to play in public?" asked Helen. + +The question was a perfectly natural one, but it happened +unfortunately that as the girl asked it her glance rested upon the +figure of her companion. The man chanced to look at her at the same +instant, and she saw in a flash that her thought had been misread. +Helen colored with the most painful mortification; but Mr. Howard +gave, to her surprise, no sign of offense. + +"No, not in general," he said, with simple dignity. "I believe that +I am much better equipped as a listener." + +Helen had never seen more perfect self-possession than that, and she +felt quite humbled. + +It would have been difficult to guess the age of the man beside her, +but Helen noticed that his hair was slightly gray. A closer view had +only served to strengthen her first impression of him, that he was +all head, and she found herself thinking that if that had been all +of him he might have been handsome, tho in a strange, uncomfortable +way. The broad forehead seemed more prominent than ever, and the +dark eyes seemed fairly to shine from beneath it. The rest of the +face, tho wan, was as powerful and massive as the brow, and seemed +to Helen, little used as she was to think of such things, to +indicate character as well as suffering. + +"It looks a little like Arthur's," she thought. + +This she had been noticing in the course of the conversation; then, +because her curiosity had really been piqued, she brought back the +original topic again. "You have not told me about my playing," she +smiled, "and I wish for your opinion. I am very vain, you know." +(There is wisdom in avowing a weakness which you wish others to +think you do not possess.) + +"It gave me great pleasure to watch you," said the man, after a +moment. + +"To watch me!" thought Helen. "That is a palpable evasion. That is +not criticising my music itself," she said aloud, not showing that +she was a trifle annoyed. + +"You have evidently been very well taught," said the +other,--"unusually well; and you have a very considerable technic." +And Helen was only more uncomfortable than ever; evidently the man +would have liked to add a "but" to that sentence, and the girl felt +as if she had come near an icicle in the course of her evening's +triumph. However, she was now still more curious to hear the rest of +his opinion. Half convinced yet that it must be favorable in the +end, she said: + +"I should not in the least mind your speaking plainly; the +admiration of people who do not understand music I really do not +care for." And then as Mr. Howard fixed his deep, clear eyes upon +her, Helen involuntarily lowered hers a little. + +"If you really want my opinion," said the other, "you shall have it. +But you must remember that it is yourself who leads me to the bad +taste of being serious in company." + +That last remark was in Helen's own style, and she looked +interested. For the rest, she felt that she had gotten into grave +trouble by her question; but it was too late to retreat now. + +"I will excuse you," she said. "I wish to know." + +"Very well, then," said Mr. Howard; "the truth is that I did not +care for your selection." + +Helen gave a slight start. "If that is all the trouble, I need not +worry," she thought; and she added easily, "The sonata is usually +considered one of Beethoven's very greatest works, Mr. Howard." + +"I am aware of that," said the other; "but do you know how Beethoven +came to compose it?" + +Helen had the happy feeling of a person of moderate resources when +the conversation turns to one of his specialties. "Yes," she said; +"I have read how he said 'So pocht das Schicksal auf die Pforte.' +[Footnote: "So knocks Fate upon the door."] Do you understand that, +Mr. Howard?" + +"Only partly," said the other, very gently; "do you?" And Helen felt +just then that she had made a very awkward blunder indeed. + +"Fate is a very dreadful thing to understand, Miss Davis," the other +continued, slowly. "When one has heard the knock, he does not forget +it, and even the echo of it makes him tremble." + +"I suppose then," said Helen, glibly, trying to save herself, "that +you think the sonata is too serious to be played in public?" + +"Not exactly," was the answer; "it depends upon the circumstances. +There are always three persons concerned, you know. In this case, as +you have pardoned me for being serious, there is in the first place +the great genius with his sacred message; you know how he learned +that his life work was to be ruined by deafness, and how he poured +his agony and despair into his greatest symphony, and into this +sonata. That is the first person, Miss Davis." + +He paused for a moment; and Helen took a deep breath, thinking that +it was the strangest conversation she had ever been called upon to +listen to during an evening's merriment. Yet she did not smile, for +the man's deep, resonant voice fascinated her. + +"And the second?" she asked. + +"The second," said Mr. Howard, turning his dark, sunken eyes full +upon the girl, "is another man, not a genius, but one who has +suffered, I fear, nearly as much as one; a man who is very hungry +for beauty, and very impatient of insincerity, and who is accustomed +to look to the great masters of art for all his help and courage." + +Helen felt very uncomfortable indeed. + +"Evidently," she said, "I am the third." + +"Yes," said Mr. Howard, "the pianist is the third. It is the +pianist's place to take the great work and live it, and study it +until he knows all that it means; and then--" + +"I don't think I took it quite so seriously as that," said Helen, +with a poor attempt at humility. + +"No," said Mr. Howard, gravely; "it was made evident to me that you +did not by every note you played; for you treated it as if it had +been a Liszt show-piece." + +Helen was of course exceedingly angry at those last blunt words; but +she was too proud to let her vexation be observed. She felt that she +had gotten herself into the difficulty by asking for serious +criticism, for deep in her heart she knew that it was true, and that +she would never have dared to play the sonata had she known that a +musician was present. Helen felt completely humiliated, her few +minutes' conversation having been enough to put her out of humor +with herself and all of her surroundings. There was a long silence, +in which she had time to think of what she had heard; she felt in +spite of herself the folly of what she had done, and her whole +triumph had suddenly come to look very small indeed; yet, as was +natural, she felt only anger against the man who had broken the +spell and destroyed her illusion. She was only the more irritated +because she could not find any ground upon which to blame him. + +It would have been very difficult for her to have carried on the +conversation after that. Fortunately a diversion occurred, the young +person who had last played having gone to the piano again, this time +with a young man and a violin. + +"Aunt Polly has found someone to take your place," said Helen, +forcing a smile. + +"Yes," said the other, "she told me we had another violinist." + +The violinist played Raff's Cavatina, a thing with which fiddlers +all love to exhibit themselves; he played it just a little off the +key at times, as Helen might have told by watching her companion's +eyebrows. She in the meantime was trying to recover her equanimity, +and to think what else she could say. "He's the most uncomfortable +man I ever met," she thought with vexation. "I wish I'd insisted +upon keeping away from him!" + +However, Helen was again relieved from her plight by the fact that +as the fiddler stopped and the faint applause died out, she saw Mr. +Harrison coming towards her. Mr. Harrison had somehow succeeded in +extricating himself from the difficulty in which his hostess had +placed him, and had no doubt guessed that Helen was no better +pleased with her new companion. + +"May I join you?" he asked, as he neared the sofa. + +"Certainly," said Helen, smiling; she introduced the two men, and +Mr. Harrison sat down upon the other side of the girl. Somehow or +other he seemed less endurable than he had just before, for his +voice was not as soft as Mr. Howard's, and now that Helen's +animation was gone she was again aware of the millionaire's very +limited attainments. + +"That was a very interesting thing we just heard," he said. "What +was it? Do you know?" + +Helen answered that it was Raff's Cavatina. + +"Cavatina?" said Mr. Harrison. "The name sounds familiar; I may have +heard it before." + +Helen glanced nervously at Mr. Howard; but the latter gave no sign. + +"Mr. Howard is himself a violinist," she said. "We must be careful +what criticisms we make." + +"Oh, I do not make any--I do not know enough about it," said the +other, with heartiness which somehow seemed to Helen to fail of +deserving the palliating epithet of "bluff." + +"Mr. Howard has just been telling me about my own playing," Helen +went on, growing a little desperate. + +"I hope he admired it as much as I did," said the unfortunate +railroad-president. + +"I'm afraid he didn't," said Helen, trying to turn the matter into a +laugh. + +"He didn't!" exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in surprise. "Pray, why not?" + +He asked the question of Mr. Howard, and Helen shuddered, for fear +he might begin with that dreadful "There are always three persons +concerned, you know." But the man merely said, very quietly, "My +criticism was of rather a technical nature, Mr. Harrison." + +"I'm sure, for my part I thought her playing wonderful," said the +gentleman from Cincinnati, to which the other did not reply. + +Helen felt herself between two fires and her vexation was increasing +every moment; yet, try as she might, she could not think of anything +to change the subject, and it was fortunate that the watchful Aunt +Polly was on hand to save her. Mrs. Roberts was too diplomatic a +person not to see the unwisdom of putting Mr. Harrison in a position +where his deficiencies must be so very apparent, and so she came +over, determined to carry one of the two men away. She was relieved +of the trouble by the fact that, as she came near, Mr. Howard rose, +again with some pain as it seemed to Helen, and asked the girl to +excuse him. "I have been feeling quite ill today," he explained. + +Helen, as she saw him walk away with Mrs. Roberts, sank back with a +sigh which was only half restrained. "A very peculiar person," said +Mr. Harrison, who was clever enough to divine her vexation." + +"Yes," said the girl, "very, indeed." + +"He seemed to be lecturing you about something, from what I saw," +added the other. The remark was far from being in the best taste, +but it pleased Helen, because it went to justify her to herself, and +at the same time offered her an opportunity to vent her feelings. + +"Yes," she said. "It was about music; he was very much displeased +with me." + +"So!" exclaimed Mr. Harrison. "I hope you do not let that disturb +you?" + +"No," said the girl, laughing,--"or at any rate, I shall soon +recover my equanimity. It is very hard to please a man who plays +himself, you know." + +"Or who says he plays," observed Mr. Harrison. "He _didn't_ play, +you notice." + +Helen was pleased to fancy that there might be wisdom in the remark. +"Let us change the subject," she said more cheerfully. "It is best +to forget things that make one feel uncomfortable." + +"I'll leave the finding of a new topic to you," replied the other, +with graciousness which did a little more to restore Helen's +self-esteem. "I have a very humble opinion of my own conversation." + +"Do you like mine?" the girl asked with a laugh. + +"I do, indeed," said Mr. Harrison with equally pleasing frankness. +"I was as interested as could be in the story that you were telling +me when we were stopped." + +"Well, we'll begin where we left off!" exclaimed Helen, and felt as +if she had suddenly discovered a doorway leading from a prison. She +found it easy to forget the recent events after that, and Mr. +Harrison grew more tolerable to her every moment now that the other +was gone; her self-possession came back to her quickly as she read +his admiration in his eyes. Besides that, it was impossible to +forget for very long that Mr. Harrison was a multi-millionaire, and +the object of the envious glances of every other girl in the room; +and so when Aunt Polly returned a while later she found the +conversation between the two progressing very well, and in fact +almost as much enjoyed by both as it had been the first time. After +waiting a few minutes she came to ask Helen to sing for the company, +a treat which she had reserved until the last. + +Helen's buoyant nature had by that time flung all her doubts behind +her, and this last excitement was all that was needed to sweep her +away entirely again. She went to the piano as exulting as ever in +her command of it and in the homage which it brought her. She sang +an arrangement of the "Preislied," and she sang it with all the +energy and enthusiasm she possessed; partly because she had a really +good voice and enjoyed the song, and partly because an audience +appreciates singing more easily than any other kind of music. She +really scored the success of the evening. Everybody was as +enthusiastic as the limits of good taste allowed, and Helen was +compelled, not in the least against her will, to sing again and +again. While she was laughing with happiness and triumph, something +brought, back "Wohin" to her mind, and she sang it again, quite as +gaily as she had sung it by the streamlet with Arthur. It was enough +to delight even the dullest, and perhaps if Mr. Howard had been +there even he would have applauded a little. + +At any rate, as Helen rose from the piano she received a complete +ovation, everyone coming to her to thank her and to praise her, and +to share in the joy of her beauty; she herself had never been more +radiant and more exulting in all her exulting life, drinking in even +Mr. Harrison's rapturous compliments and finding nothing exaggerated +in them. And in the meantime, Aunt Polly having suggested a waltz to +close the festivities, the furniture was rapidly moved to one side, +and the hostess herself took her seat at the piano and struck up the +"Invitation to the Dance;" Mr. Harrison, who had been at Helen's +side since her singing had ceased, was of course her partner, and +the girl, flushed and excited by all the homage she had received, +was soon waltzing delightedly in his arms. The man danced well, +fortunately for him, and that he was the beautiful girl's ardent +admirer was by this time evident, not only to Helen, but to everyone +else. + +In the mood that she was then, the fact was as welcome to her as it +could possibly have been, and when, therefore, Mr. Harrison kept her +arm and begged for the next dance, and the next in turn, Helen was +sufficiently carried away to have no wish to refuse him; when after +the third dance she was tired out and sat down to rest, Mr. Harrison +was still her companion. + +Helen was at the very height of her happiness then, every trace of +her former vexation gone, and likewise every trace of her objections +to the man beside her. The music was still sounding merrily, and +everyone else was dancing, so that her animation did not seem at all +out of taste; and so brilliant and fascinating had she become, and +so completely enraptured was Mr. Harrison, that he would probably +have capitulated then and there if the dancing had not ceased and +the company separated when it did. The end of all the excitement was +a great disappointment to Helen; she was completely happy just then, +and would have gone just as far as the stream had carried her. It +being her first social experience was probably the reason that she +was less easily wearied than the rest; and besides, when one has +thus yielded to the sway of the senses, he dreads instinctively the +subsiding of the excitement and the awakening of reason. + +The awakening, however, is one that must always come; Helen, having +sent away the maid, suddenly found herself standing alone in the +middle of her own room gazing at herself in the glass, and seeing a +frightened look in her eyes. The merry laughter of the guests ceased +gradually, and silence settled about the halls of the great house; +but even then Helen did not move. She was standing there still when +her aunt came into the room. + +Mrs. Roberts was about as excited as was possible in a matron of her +age and dignity; she flung her arms rapturously around Helen, and +clasped her to her. "My dear," she cried, "it was a triumph!" + +"Yes, Auntie," said Helen, weakly. + +"You dear child, you!" went on the other, laughing; "I don't believe +you realize it yet! Do you know, Helen, that Mr. Harrison is madly +in love with you? You ought to be the happiest girl in the land +tonight!" + +"Yes, Auntie," said Helen again, still more weakly. + +"Come here, my dear," said Mrs. Roberts, drawing her gently over to +the bed and sitting down beside her; "you are a little dazed, I +fancy, and I do not blame you. I should have been beside myself at +your age if such a thing had happened to me; do you realize, child, +what a fortune like Mr. Harrison's is?" + +"No," said Helen, "it is very hard, Aunt Polly. I'm afraid about it; +I must have some time to think." + +"Think!" laughed the other. "You queer child! My dear, do you +actually mean that you could think of refusing this chance of your +lifetime?" + +"I don't know," said Helen, trembling; "I don't--" + +"Everybody'd think you were crazy, child! I know I should, for one." +And she added, coaxingly, "Let me tell you what Mr. Roberts said." + +"What, Auntie?" + +"He sent you in this message; he's a great person for doing generous +things, when he takes it into his head. He told me to tell you that +if you'd accept Mr. Harrison's offer he would give you the finest +trousseau that he could buy. Wasn't that splendid of him?" + +"Yes," said Helen, "thank him for me;" and she shuddered. "Don't +talk to me any more about it now, tho," she pleaded. "Please don't, +Aunt Polly. I was so excited, and it was all like a dream, and I'm +half dazed now; I can't think about it, and I must think, somehow! +It's too dreadful!" + +"You shan't think about it tonight, child," laughed the other, "for +I want you to sleep and be beautiful tomorrow. See," she added, +beginning to unfasten Helen's dress, "I'm going to be your little +mother tonight, and put you to bed." + +And so, soothing the girl and kissing her burning forehead and +trying to laugh away her fears, her delighted protectress undressed +her, and did not leave her until she had seen her in bed and kissed +her again. "And promise me, child," she said, "that you won't worry +yourself tonight. Go to sleep, and you'll have time to think +tomorrow." + +Helen promised that she would; but she did not keep her promise. She +heard the great clock in the hallway strike many times, and when the +darkest hours of the night had passed she was sitting up in bed and +gazing about her at the gray shadows in the room, holding the +covering tightly about her, because she was very cold; she was +muttering nervously to herself, half deliriously: "No, no, I will +not do it! They shall not _make_ me do it! I must have time to +think." + +And when at last she fell into a restless slumber, that thought was +still in her mind, and those words upon her lips: "I will not do it; +I must have time to think!" + +[Music: The opening passage of Beethoven's Appassionata Sonata.] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + "And yet methinks I see it in thy face, + What them shouldst be: th' occasion speaks thee; and + My strong imagination sees a crown + Dropping upon thy head." + +When Helen awoke upon the following morning, the resolution to +withstand her aunt's urging was still strong within her; as she +strove to bring back the swift events of the night before, the first +discovery she made was a headache and a feeling of weariness and +dissatisfaction that was new to her. She arose and looked in the +glass, and seeing that she was pale, vowed again, "They shall not +torment me in this way! I do not even mean that he shall propose to +me; I must have time to realize it!" + +And so firm was she in her own mind that she rang the bell and sent +the maid to call her aunt. It was then only nine o'clock in the +morning, and Helen presumed that neither Mrs. Roberts nor any of the +other guests would be awake, they not being fresh from boarding +school as she was; but the girl was so nervous and restless, and so +weighed upon by her urgent resolution, that she felt she could do +nothing else until she had declared it and gotten rid of the matter. +"I'm going to tell her once for all," she vowed; "they shall not +torment me any more." + +It turned out, however, that Mrs. Roberts had been up and dressed a +considerable time,--for a reason which, when Helen learned it, +prevented her delivering so quickly the speech she had upon her +mind; she noticed a worried expression upon her aunt's face as soon +as the latter came into the room. + +"What is the matter?" she asked, in some surprise. + +"A very dreadful misfortune, my dear," said Mrs. Roberts; "I don't +know how to tell you, you'll be so put out." + +Helen was quite alarmed as she saw her aunt sink down into a chair; +but then it flashed over her that Mr. Harrison might have for some +reason been called away. + +"What is it? Tell me!" she asked eagerly. + +"It's Mr. Howard, my dear," said the other; and Helen frowned. + +"Oh, bother!" she cried; "what about him?" + +"He's been ill during the night," replied Aunt Polly. + +"Ill!" exclaimed Helen. "Dear me, what a nuisance!" + +"Poor man," said the other, deprecatingly; "he cannot help it." + +"Yes," exclaimed Helen, "but he ought not to be here. What is the +matter with him?" + +"I don't know," was the reply, "but he has been suffering so all +night that the doctor has had to give him an opiate." + +The wan countenance of Mr. Howard rose up before Helen just then, +and she shuddered inwardly. + +"Dear me, what a state of affairs!" she exclaimed. "It seems to me +as if I were to have nothing but fright and worry. Why should there +be such things in the world?" + +"I don't know, Helen," said the other, "but it is certainly +inopportune for you. Of course the company will all have to leave." + +"To leave!" echoed Helen; she had never once thought of that. + +"Why, of course," said her aunt. "It would not be possible to enjoy +ourselves under such very dreadful circumstances." + +"But, Aunt Polly, that is a shame!" cried the girl. "The idea of so +many people being inconvenienced for such a cause. Can't he be +moved?" + +"The doctor declares it would be impossible at present, Helen, and +it would not look right anyway, you know. He will certainly have to +remain until he is better." + +"And how long will that be?" + +"A week, or perhaps more," was the reply. + +And Helen saw that her promised holiday was ruined; her emotions, +however, were not all of disappointment, for though she was vexed at +the interruptions, she recollected with sudden relief that she could +thus obtain, and without so much effort of her own, the time to +debate the problem of Mr. Harrison. Also there was in her mind, if +not exactly pity for the invalid, at any rate the nearest to it that +Helen had ever learned to feel, an uncomfortable fright at the idea +of such suffering. + +"I promise you," said Aunt Polly, who had been watching her face and +trying to read her emotions, "that we shall only postpone the good +time I meant to give you. You cannot possibly be more vexed about it +than I, for I was rejoicing in your triumph with Mr. Harrison." + +"I'm not worrying on that account," said Helen, angrily. + +"Helen, dear," said Mrs. Roberts, pleadingly, "what can be the +matter with you? I think anyone who was watching you and me would +get the idea that I was the one to whom the fortune is coming. I +suppose that was only one of your jokes, my dear, but I truly don't +think you show a realization of what a tremendous opportunity you +have. You show much more lack of experience than I had any idea +could be possible." + +"It isn't that, Aunt Polly," protested Helen; "I realize it, but I +want time to think." + +"To think, Helen! But what is there to think? It seems to be madness +to trifle with such a chance." + +"Will it be trifling to keep him waiting a while?" asked Helen, +laughing in spite of her vexation. + +"Maybe not, my dear; but you ought to know that every other girl in +this house would snap him up at one second's notice. If you'd only +seen them watching you last night as I did." + +"I saw a little," was the reply. "But, Aunt Polly, is Mr. Harrison +the only man whom I can find?" + +"My husband and I have been over the list of our acquaintances, and +not found anyone that can be compared with him for an instant, +Helen. We know of no one that would do for you that has half as much +money." + +"I never said _he'd_ do for me," said Helen, again laughing. +"Understand me, Auntie," she added; "it isn't that I'd not like the +fortune! If I could get it without its attachment--" + +"But, my dear, you know you can never get any wealth except by +marriage; what is the use of talking such nonsense, even in fun?" + +"But, listen," objected Helen in turn; "suppose I don't want such a +great fortune--suppose I should marry one of these other men?" + +"Helen, if you only could know as much as I know about these +things," said Mrs. Roberts, "if you only could know the difference +between being in the middle and at the top of the social ladder! +Dear, why will you choose anything but the best when you can have +the best if you want it? I tell you once for all I do not care how +clever you are, or how beautiful you are, the great people will look +down on you for an upstart if you cannot match them and make just as +much of a show. And why can you not discover what your own tastes +are? I watched you last night, child; anyone could have seen that +you were in your element! You outshone everyone, Helen, and you +should do just the same all your life. Can you not see just what +that means to you?" + +"Yes, Auntie," said Helen, "but then--" + +"Were you not perfectly happy last night?" interrupted the other. + +"No," protested the other, "that's just what I was going to say." + +"The only reason in the world why you are not, my dear, is that you +were tormenting yourself with foolish scruples. Can you not see that +if you once had the courage to rid yourself of them it would be all +that you need. Why are you so weak, Helen?" + +"It is not weak!" exclaimed the other. + +"Yes," asserted Mrs. Roberts, "I say it is weak. It is weak of you +not to comprehend what your life is to be, and what you need for +your happiness. It is a shame for you to make no use of the glorious +gifts that are yours, and to cramp and hinder all your own progress. +I want you to have room to show your true powers, Helen!" + +Helen had been leaning over the foot of the bed listening to her +aunt, stirred again by all her old emotion, and angry with herself +for being stirred; her unspoken resolution was not quite so steady +as it had been, tho like all good resolutions it remained in her +mind to torment her. + +She sprang up suddenly with a very nervous and forced laugh. "I'm +glad I don't have to argue with you, Auntie," she said, "and that +I'm saved the trouble of worrying myself ill. You see the Fates are +on my side,--I must have time to think, whether I want to or not." +It was that comfort which saved her from further struggle with +herself upon the subject. (Helen much preferred being happy to +struggling.) She set hurriedly to work to dress, for her aunt told +her that the guests were nearly ready for breakfast. + +"Nobody could sleep since all the excitement," she said. "I wonder +it did not wake you." + +"I was tired," said Helen; "I guess that was it." + +"You'll find the breakfast rather a sombre repast," added Mrs. +Roberts, pathetically. "I've been up nearly three hours myself, so +frightened about poor Mr. Howard; I had neveer seen anyone so +dreadfully ill, and I was quite certain he was in his death agony." + +"Aunt Polly!" cried Helen with a sudden wild start, "why do you talk +like that?" + +"I won't say any more about it," was the reply, "only hurry up. And +put on your best looks, my dear, for Mr. Harrison to carry away in +his memory." + +"I'll do that much with pleasure," was the answer; "and please have +the maid come up to pack my trunks again; for you won't want me to +stay now, of course." + +"Oh, no," said Mrs. Roberts, "not unless you want to. Our house +won't be a very cheerful place, I fear." + +"I'll come back in a week or two, when you are ready for me," Helen +added; "in the meantime I can be thinking about Mr. Harrison." + +Helen was soon on her way downstairs, for it was terrifying to her +to be alone and in the neighborhood of Mr. Howard. She found a +sombre gathering indeed, for the guests spoke to each other only in +half-whispers, and there were few smiles to be seen. Helen found +herself placed opposite Mr. Harrison at the table, and she had a +chance to study him by glances through the meal. "He's well dressed, +anyway," she mused, "and he isn't altogether bad. I wonder if I'd +_dare_ to marry him." + +After breakfast Helen strolled out upon the piazza, perhaps with +some purpose in her mind; for it is not unpleasant to toy with a +temptation, even when one means to resist it. At any rate, she was a +little excited when she heard Mr. Harrison coming out to join her +there. + +"Rather a sad ending of our little party, wasn't it, Miss Davis?" he +said. + +"Yes," answered the girl, "I feel so sorry for poor Mr. Howard." + +"He seemed to be rather ill last night," said the other. He was +going to add that the fact perhaps accounted for the invalid's +severity, but he was afraid of shocking Helen by his levity,--a not +entirely necessary precaution, unfortunately. + +"You are going back to town this morning, with the others?" Helen +asked. + +"No," said Mr. Harrison, somewhat to her surprise; "I have a +different plan." + +"Good Heavens, does he suppose he's going to stay here with me?" +thought the girl. + +"I received your aunt's permission to ask you," continued Mr. +Harrison, "and so I need only yours." + +"For what?" Helen inquired, with varied emotions. + +"To drive you over to Oakdale with my rig," said the other. "I had +it brought down, you know, because I thought there might be a chance +to use it." + +Helen had turned slightly paler, and was staring in front of her. + +"Are you not fond of driving, then, Miss Davis?" asked the other, as +she hesitated. + +"Yes," said Helen, "but I don't like to trouble you--" + +"I assure you it will be the greatest pleasure in the world," said +Mr. Harrison; "I only regret that I shall not be able to see more of +you, Miss Davis; it is only for the present, I hope." + +"Thank you," said Helen, still very faintly. + +"And I have a pair of horses that I am rather proud of," added Mr. +Harrison, laughing; "I should like you to tell me what you think of +them. Will you give me the pleasure?" + +And Helen could not hesitate very much longer without being rude. +"If you really wish it, Mr. Harrison," she said, "very well." And +then someone else came out on the piazza and cut short the +conversation; Helen had no time to think any more about the matter, +but she had a disagreeable consciousness that her blood was flowing +faster again, and that her old agitation was back in all its +strength. Soon afterwards Mrs. Roberts came out and joined the two. + +"Miss Davis has granted me the very great favor," said Mr. Harrison; +"I fear I shall be happier than I ought to be, considering what +suffering I leave behind." + +"It will do no good to worry about it," said Mrs. Roberts, a +reflection which often keeps the world from wasting its sympathy. "I +shall have your carriage brought round." + +"Isn't it rather early to start?" asked Helen. + +"I don't know," said her aunt; "is it?" + +"We can take a little drive if it is," said Mr. Harrison; "I mean +that Miss Davis shall think a great deal of my horses." + +Helen said nothing, but stood gazing in front of her across the +lawns, her mind in a tempest of emotions. She could not put away +from her the excitement that Mr. Harrison's presence brought; the +visions of wealth and power which gleamed before her almost +overwhelmed her with their vastness. But she had also the memory of +her morning resolve to trouble her conscience; the result was the +same confused helplessness, the dazed and frightened feeling which +she so rebelled against. + +"I do not _want_ to be troubled in this way," she muttered angrily +to herself, again and again; "I wish to be let alone, so that I can +be happy!" + +Yet there was no chance just then for her to find an instant's +peace, or time for further thought; there were half a dozen people +about her, and she was compelled to listen to and answer commonplace +remarks about the beauty of the country in front of her, and about +her singing on the previous evening. + +She had to stifle her agitation as best she could, and almost before +she realized it her aunt had come to summon her to get ready for the +drive. + +Helen hoped to have a moment's quiet then; but there was nothing to +be done but put on her hat and gloves, and Mrs. Roberts was with her +all the time. "Helen," she said pleadingly, as she watched the girl +surveying herself in the glass, "I do hope you will not forget all +that I told you." + +"I wish you would let me alone about it!" cried Helen, very +peevishly. + +"If you only knew, my dear girl, how much I have done for you," +replied the other, "and how I've planned and looked forward to this +time, I don't think you'd answer me in that way." + +"It isn't that, Aunt Polly," exclaimed Helen, "but I am so confused +and I don't know what to think." + +"I am trying my poor, humble best to show you what to think. And you +could not possibly feel more worried than I just now; Helen, you +could be rid of all these doubts and struggles in one instant, if +you chose. Ask yourself if it is not true; you have only to give +yourself into the arms of the happiness that calls you. And you +never will get rid of the matter in any other way,--indeed you will +not! If you should fling away this chance, the memory of it would +never leave you all your life; after you knew it was too late, you +would torment yourself a thousand times more than ever you can now." + +"Oh, dear, dear!" cried Helen, half hysterically; "I can't stand +that, Aunt Polly. I'll do anything, only let me alone! My head is +aching to split, and I don't know where I am." + +"And you will never find another chance like it, Helen," went on the +other, with sledge-hammer remorselessness. "For if you behave in +this perfectly insane way and lose this opportunity, I shall simply +give you up in despair at your perversity." + +"But I haven't said I was going to lose it," the girl exclaimed. "He +won't be any the less in love with me if I make him wait, Aunt +Polly!--" + +"Mr. Harrison was going back to Cincinnati in a day or two," put in +Mrs. Roberts, swiftly. + +"He will stay if I wish him to," was the girl's reply. "There is no +need for so much worry; one would think I was getting old." + +"Old!" laughed the other. "You are so beautiful this morning, Helen, +that I could fall in love with you myself." She turned the girl +towards her, seeing that her toilet was finished. "I haven't a +thought in the world, dear, but to keep you so beautiful," she said; +"I hate to see you tormenting yourself and making yourself so pale; +why will you not take my advice and fling all these worries aside +and let yourself be happy? That is all I want you to do, and it is +so easy! Why is it that you do not want to be happy? I like to see +you smile, Helen!" And Helen, who was tired of struggling, made a +wry attempt to oblige her, and then broke into a laugh at herself. +Meanwhile the other picked a rose from a great bunch of them that +lay upon the bureau, and pinned it upon her dress. + +"There, child," she, said, "he can never resist you now, I know!" + +Helen kissed her excitedly upon the cheek, and darted quickly out of +the door, singing, in a brave attempt to bring back her old, merry +self:-- + +"The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la-la, Have nothing to do +with the case." + +A moment later, however, she recollected Mr. Howard and his +misfortune, and her heart sank; she ran quickly down the steps to +get the thought of him from her mind. + +It was easy enough to forget him and all other troubles as well when +she was once outside upon the piazza; for there were plenty of happy +people, and everyone crowded about her to bid her good-by. There too +was Mr. Harrison standing upon the steps waiting for her, and there +was his driving-cart with two magnificent black horses, alert and +eager for the sport. Helen was not much of a judge of horses, having +never had one of her own to drive, but she had the eye of a person +of aristocratic tastes for what was in good form, and she saw that +Mr. Harrison's turnout was all of that, with another attraction for +her, that it was daring; for the horses were lithe, restless +creatures, thoroughbreds, both of them; and it looked as if they had +not been out of the stable in a week. They were giving the groom who +held them all that he could do. + +Mr. Harrison held out his hand to the girl as she came down the +steps, and eyed her keenly to see if her flushed cheeks would betray +any sign of fear. But Helen's emotions were surging too strongly for +such thoughts, and she had, besides, a little of the thoroughbred +nature herself. She laughed gaily as she gave her hand to her +companion and sprang into the wagon; he followed her, and as he took +the reins the groom sprang aside and the two horses bounded away +down the broad avenue. Helen turned once to wave her hand in answer +to the chorus of good-bys that sounded from the porch, and then she +faced about and sank back into the seat and drank in with delight +the fresh morning breeze that blew in her face. + +"Oh, I think this is fine!" she cried. + +"You like driving, then?" asked the other. + +"Yes indeed," was the reply. "I like this kind ever so much." + +"Wait until we get out on the high-road," said Mr. Harrison, "and +then we will see what we can do. I came from the West, you know, +Miss Davis, so I think I am wise on the subject of horses." + +The woods on either side sped by them, and Helen's emotions soon +began to flow faster. It was always easy for her to forget +everything and lose herself in feelings of joy and power, and it was +especially easy when she was as much wrought up as she was just +then. It was again her ride with the thunderstorm, and soon she felt +as if she were being swept out into the rejoicing and the victory +once more. She might have realized, if she had thought, that her joy +was coming only because she was following her aunt's advice, and +yielding herself into the arms of her temptation; but Helen was +thoroughly tired of thinking; she wanted to feel, and again and +again she drank in deep breaths of the breeze. + +It was only a minute or so before they passed the gates of the +Roberts place, and swept out of the woods and into the open country. +It was really inspiring then, for Mr. Harrison gave his horses the +reins, and Helen was compelled to hold on to her hat. He saw delight +and laughter glowing in her countenance as she watched the landscape +that fled by them, with its hillsides clad in their brightest green +and with its fresh-plowed farm-lands and snowy orchards; the +clattering of the horses' hoofs and the whirring of the wheels in +the sandy road were music and inspiration such as Helen longed for, +and she would have sung with all her heart had she been alone. + +As was her way, she talked instead, with the same animation and glow +that had fascinated her companion upon the previous evening. She +talked of the sights that were about them, and when they came to the +top of the hill and paused to gaze around at the view, she told +about her trip through the Alps, and pictured the scenery to him, +and narrated some of her mountain-climbing adventures; and then Mr. +Harrison, who must have been a dull man indeed not to have felt the +contagion of Helen's happiness, told her about his own experiences +in the Rockies, to which the girl listened with genuine interest. +Mr. Harrison's father, so he told her, had been a station-agent of a +little town in one of the wildest portions of the mountains; he +himself had begun as a railroad surveyor, and had risen step by step +by constant exertion and watchfulness. It was a story of a self-made +man, such as Helen had vowed to her aunt she could not bear to +listen to; yet she did not find it disagreeable just then. There was +an exciting story of a race with a rival road, to secure the right +to the best route across the mountains; Helen found it quite as +exciting as music, and said so. + +"Perhaps it is a kind of music," said Mr. Harrison, laughing; "it is +the only kind I have cared anything about, excepting yours." + +"I had no idea people had to work so hard in the world," said Helen, +dodging the compliment. + +"They do, unless they have someone else to do it for them," said the +other. "It is a fierce race, nowadays, and a man has to watch and +think every minute of the time. But it is glorious to triumph." + +Helen found herself already a little more in a position to realize +what ten million dollars amounted to, and very much more respectful +and awe-stricken in her relation to them. She was sufficiently +oblivious to the flight of time to be quite surprised when she gazed +about her, and discovered that they were within a couple of miles of +home. "I had no idea of how quickly we were going," she said. + +"You are not tired, then?" asked the other. + +"No indeed," Helen answered, "I enjoyed it ever so much." + +"We might drive farther," said Mr. Harrison; "these horses are +hardly waked up." + +He reined them in a little and glanced at his watch. "It's just +eleven," he said, "I think there'd be time," and he turned to her +with a smile. "Would you like to have an adventure?" he asked. + +"I generally do," replied the girl. "What is it?" + +"I was thinking of a drive," said the other; "one that we could just +about take and return by lunch-time; it is about ten miles from +here." + +"What is it?" asked Helen. + +"I have just bought a country place near here," said Mr. Harrison. +"I thought perhaps you would like to see it." + +"My aunt spoke of it," Helen answered; "the Eversons' old home." + +"Yes," said the other; "you know it, then?" + +"I only saw it once in my life, when I was a very little girl," +Helen replied, "and so I have only a dim recollection of its +magnificence; the old man who lived there never saw any company." + +"It had to be sold because he failed in business," said Mr. +Harrison. "Would you like to drive over?" + +"Very much," said Helen, and a minute later, when they came to a +fork in the road, they took the one which led them to "Fairview," as +the place was called. + +"I think it a tremendously fine property myself," said Mr. Harrison; +"I made up my mind to have it the first time I saw it. I haven't +seen anything around here to equal it, and I hope to make a real +English country-seat out of it. I'll tell you about what I want to +do when we get there, and you can give me your advice; a man never +has good taste, you know." + +"I should like to see it," answered Helen, smiling; "I have a +passion for fixing up things." + +"We had an exciting time at the sale," went on Mr. Harrison +reminiscently. "You know Mr. Everson's family wanted to keep the +place themselves, and the three or four branches of the family had +clubbed together to buy it; when the bidding got near the end, there +was no one left but the family and myself." + +"And you got it?" said Helen. "How cruel!" + +"The strongest wins," laughed the other. "I had made up my mind to +have it. The Eversons are a very aristocratic family, aren't they?" + +"Yes," said Helen, "very, indeed; they have lived in this part of +the country since the Revolution." As Mr. Harrison went on to tell +her the story of the sale she found herself vividly reminded of what +her aunt had told her of the difference between having a good deal +of money and all the money one wanted. Perhaps, also, her companion +was not without some such vaguely felt purpose in the telling. At +any rate, the girl was trembling inwardly more and more at the +prospect which was unfolding itself before her; as excitement always +acted upon her as a stimulant, she was at her very best during the +rest of the drive. She and her companion were conversing very +merrily indeed when Fairview was reached. + +The very beginning of the place was imposing, for there was a high +wall along the roadway for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and then two +massive iron gates set in great stone pillars; they were opened by +the gate-keeper in response to Mr. Harrison's call. Once inside the +two had a drive of some distance through what had once been a +handsome park, though it was a semi-wilderness then. The road +ascended somewhat all the way, until the end of the forest was +reached, and the first view of the house was gained; Helen could +scarcely restrain a cry of pleasure as she saw it, for it was really +a magnificent old mansion, built of weather-beaten gray stone, and +standing upon a high plateau, surrounded by a lawn and shaded by +half a dozen great oaks; below it the lawn sloped in a broad +terrace, and in the valley thus formed gleamed a little trout-pond, +set off at the back by a thickly-wooded hillside. + +"Isn't it splendid!" the girl exclaimed, gazing about her. + +"I thought it was rather good," said Mr. Harrison, deprecatingly. +"It can be made much finer, of course." + +"When you take your last year's hay crop from the lawn, for one +thing," laughed she. "But I had no idea there was anything so +beautiful near our little Oakdale. Just look at that tremendous +entrance!" + +"It's all built in royal style," said Mr. Harrison. "The family must +have been wealthy in the old days." + +"Probably slave-dealers, or something of that kind," observed Helen. +"Is the house all furnished inside?" + +"Yes," said the other, "but I expect to do most of it over. Wouldn't +you like to look?" He asked the question as he saw the gate-keeper +coming up the road, presumably with the keys. + +The girl gazed about her dubiously; she would have liked to go in, +except that she was certain it would be improper. Helen had never +had much respect for the proprieties, however, being accustomed to +rely upon her own opinions of things; and in the present case, +besides, she reflected that no one would ever know anything about +it. + +"We'd not have time to do more than glance around," continued the +other, "but we might do that, if you like." + +"Yes," said Helen, after a moment more of hesitation, "I think I +should." + +Her heart was beating very fast as the two ascended the great stone +steps and as the door opened before them; her mind could not but be +filled with the overwhelming thought that all that she saw might be +hers if she really wanted it. The mere imagining of Mr. Harrison's +wealth had been enough to make her thrill and burn, so it was to be +expected that the actual presence of some of it would not fail of +its effect. It is to be observed that the great Temptation took +place upon a high mountain, where the kingdoms of the earth could +really be seen; and Helen as she gazed around had the further +knowledge that the broad landscape and palatial house, which to her +were almost too splendid to be real, were after all but a slight +trifle to her companion. + +The girl entered the great hallway, with its huge fireplace and its +winding stairway, and then strolled through the parlors of the vast +house; Helen had in all its fullness the woman's passion for +spending money for beautiful things, and it had been her chief woe +in all her travels that the furniture and pictures and tapestry +which she gazed at with such keen delight must be forever beyond her +thoughts. Just at present her fancy was turned loose and madly +reveling in these memories, while always above her wildest flights +was the intoxicating certainty that there was no reason why they +should not all be possible. She could not but recollect with a +wondering smile that only yesterday she had been happy at the +thought of arranging one dingy little parlor in her country +parsonage, and had been trying to persuade her father to the +extravagance of re-covering two chairs. + +It would have been hard for Helen to keep her emotions from Mr. +Harrison, and he must have guessed the reason why she was so flushed +and excited. They were standing just then in the center of the great +dining-room, with its massive furniture of black mahogany, and she +was saying that it ought to be papered in dark red, and was +conjuring up the effect to herself. "Something rich, you know, to +set off the furniture," she explained. + +"And you must take that dreadful portrait from over the mantel," she +added, laughing. (It was a picture of a Revolutionary warrior, on +horseback and in full uniform, the coloring looking like faded +oilcloth.) + +"I had thought of that myself," said Mr. Harrison. "It's the founder +of the Eversons; there's a picture gallery in a hall back of here, +with two whole rows of ancestors in it." + +"Why don't you adopt them?" asked Helen mischievously. + +"One can buy all the ancestors one wants to, nowadays," laughed Mr. +Harrison. "I thought I'd make something more interesting out of it. +I'm not much of a judge of art, you know, but I thought if I ever +went abroad I'd buy up some of the great paintings that one reads +about--some of the old masters, you know." + +"I'm afraid you'd find very few of them for sale," said Helen, +smiling. + +"I'm not accustomed to fail in buying things that I want," was the +other's reply. "Are you fond of pictures?" + +"Very much indeed," answered the girl. As a matter of fact, the mere +mention of the subject opened a new kingdom to her, for she could +not count the number of times she had sat before beautiful pictures +and almost wept at the thought that she could never own one that was +really worth looking at. "I brought home a few myself," she said to +her companion,--"just engravings, you know, half a dozen that I +thought would please me; I mean to hang them around my music-room." + +"Tell me about it," said Mr. Harrison. "I have been thinking of +fixing up such a place myself, you know. I thought of extending the +house on the side that has the fine view of the valley, and making +part a piazza, and part a conservatory or music-room." + +"It could be both!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly. "That would be the +very thing; there ought not to be anything in a music-room, you +know, except the piano and just a few chairs, and the rest all +flowers. The pictures ought all to be appropriate--pictures of +nature, of things that dance and are beautiful; oh, I could lose +myself in such a room as that!" and Helen ran on, completely carried +away by the fancy, and forgetting even Mr. Harrison for a moment. + +"I have often dreamed of such a place," she said, "where everything +would be sympathetic; it's a pity that one can't have a piano taken +out into the fields, the way I remember reading that Haydn used to +do with his harpsichord. If I were a violinist, that's the way I'd +do all my playing, because then one would not need to be afraid to +open his eyes; oh, it would be fine--" + +Helen stopped; she was at the height of her excitement just then; +and the climax came a moment afterwards. "Miss Davis," asked the +man, "would you really like to arrange such a music-room?" + +The tone of his voice was so different that the girl comprehended +instantly; it was this moment to which she had been rushing with so +much exultation; but when it came her heart almost stopped beating, +and she gave a choking gasp. + +"Would you really like it?" asked Mr. Harrison again, bending +towards her earnestly. + +"Why, certainly," said Helen, making one blind and desperate effort +to dodge the issue. "I'll tell you everything that is necessary." + +"That is not what I mean, Miss Davis!" + +"Not?" echoed Helen, and she tried to look at him with her frank, +open eyes; but when she saw his burning look, she could not; she +dropped her eyes and turned scarlet. + +"Miss Davis," went on the man rapidly, "I have been waiting for a +chance to tell you this. Let me tell you now!" + +Helen gazed wildly about her once, as if she would have fled; then +she stood with her arms lying helplessly at her sides, trembling in +every nerve. + +"There is very little pleasure that one can get from such beautiful +things alone, Miss Davis, and especially when he is as dulled by the +world as myself. I thought that some day I might be able to share +them with some one who could enjoy them more than I, but I never +knew who that person was until last night. I know that I have not +much else to offer you, except what wealth and position I have +gained; and when I think of all your accomplishments, and all that +you have to place you so far beyond me, I almost fear to offer +myself to you. But I can only give what I have--my humble admiration +of your beauty and your powers; and the promise to worship you, to +give the rest of my life to seeing that you have everything in the +world that you want. I will put all that I own at your command, and +get as much more as I can, with no thought but of your happiness." + +Mr. Harrison could not have chosen words more fitted to win the +trembling girl beside him; that, he should recognize as well as she +did her superiority to him, removed half of his deficiency in her +eyes. + +"Miss Davis," the other went on, "I cannot know how you will feel +toward such a promise, but I cannot but feel that what I possess +could give you opportunities of much happiness. You should have all +the beauty about you that you wished, for there is nothing in the +world too beautiful for you; and you should have every luxury that +money can buy, to save you from all care. If this house seemed too +small for you, you should have another wherever you desired it, and +be mistress of it, and of everything in it; and if you cared for a +social career, you should have everything to help you, and it would +be my one happiness to see your triumph. I would give a thousand +times what I own to have you for my wife." + +So the man continued, pleading his cause, until at last he stopped, +waiting anxiously for a sign from the girl; he saw that she was +agitated, for her breast was heaving, and her forehead flushed, but +he could not tell the reason. "Perhaps, Miss Davis," he said, +humbly, "you will scorn such things as I have to offer you; tell me, +is it that?" + +Helen answered him, in a faint voice, "It is not that, Mr. Harrison; +it is,--it is,--" + +"What, Miss Davis?" + +"It has been but a day! I have had no time to know you--to love +you." + +And Helen stopped, afraid at the words she herself was using; for +she knew that for the first time in her life she had stooped to a +sham and a lie. Her whole soul was ablaze with longing just then, +with longing for the power and the happiness which this man held out +to her; and she meant to take him, she had no longer a thought of +resistance. It was all the world which offered itself to her, and +she meant to clasp it to her--to lose herself quite utterly and +forget herself in it, and she was already drunk with the thought. +Therefore she could not but shudder as she heard the word "love" +upon her lips, and knew that she had used it because she wished to +make a show of hesitation. + +"I did not need but one day, Miss Davis," went on the other +pleadingly, "to know that I loved you--to know that I no longer set +any value on the things that I had struggled all my life to win; for +you are perfect, Miss Davis. You are so far beyond me that I have +scarcely the courage to ask you what I do. But I _must_ ask you, and +know my fate." + +He stopped again and gazed at her; and Helen looked at him wildly, +and then turned away once more, trembling. She wished that he would +only continue still longer, for the word was upon her lips, and yet +it was horror for her to utter it, because she felt she ought not to +yield so soon,--because she wanted some delay; she sought for some +word that would be an evasion, that would make him urge her more +strongly; she wished to be wooed and made to surrender, and yet she +could find no pretext. + +"Answer me, Miss Davis!" exclaimed the other, passionately. + +"What--what do you wish me to say?" asked Helen faintly. + +"I wish you to tell me that you will be my wife; I wish you to take +me for what I can give you for your happiness and your glory. I ask +nothing else, I make no terms; if you will do it, it will make me +the happiest man in the world. There is nothing else that I care for +in life." + +And then as the girl still stood, flushed and shuddering, hovering +upon the verge, he took her hand in his and begged her to reply. +"You must not keep me in suspense!" he exclaimed. "You must tell +me,--tell me." + +And Helen, almost sinking, answered him "Yes!" It was such a faint +word that she scarcely heard it herself, but the other heard it, and +trembling with delight, he caught her in his arms and pressed a +burning kiss upon her cheek. + +The effect surprised him; for the fire which had burned Helen and +inflamed her cheeks had been ambition, and ambition alone. It was +the man's money that she wanted and she was stirred with no less +horror than ever at the thought of the price to be paid; therefore +the touch of his rough mustache upon her cheek acted upon her as an +electric contact, and all the shame in her nature burst into flame. +She tore herself loose with almost a scream. "No, no!" she cried. +"Stop!" + +Mr. Harrison gazed at her in astonishment for a moment, scarcely +able to find a word to say. "Miss Davis," he protested, "Helen--what +is the matter?" + +"You had no right to do that!" she cried, trembling with anger. + +"Helen!" protested the other, "have you not just promised to be my +wife?" And the words made the girl turn white and drop her eyes in +fear. + +"Yes, yes," she panted helplessly, "but you should not--it is too +soon!" The other stood watching her, perhaps divining a little of +the cause of her agitation, and feeling, at any rate, that he could +be satisfied for the present with his success. He answered, very +humbly, "Perhaps you are right; I am very sorry for offending you," +and stood silently waiting until the girl's emotions had subsided a +little, and she had looked at him again. "You will pardon me?" he +asked. + +"Yes, yes," she said, weakly, "only--" + +"And you will not forget the promise you have made me?" + +"No," she answered, and then she gazed anxiously toward the door. +"Let us go," she said imploringly; "it is all so hard for me to +realize, and I feel so very faint." + +The two went slowly down the hallway, Mr. Harrison not even +venturing to offer her his arm; outside they stood for a minute upon +the high steps, Helen leaning against a pillar and breathing very +hard. She dared not raise her eyes to the man beside her. + +"You wish to go now?" he asked, gently. + +"Yes, please," she replied, "I think so; it is very late." + +Helen scarcely knew what happened during the drive home, for she +passed it in a half-dazed condition, almost overwhelmed by what she +had done. She answered mechanically to all Mr. Harrison's remarks +about his arrangements of the house and his plans elsewhere, but all +reference to his wealth seemed powerless to waken in her a trace of +the exultation that had swept her away before, while every allusion +to their personal relationship was like the touch of fire. Her +companion seemed to divine the fact, and again he begged her +anxiously not to forget the promise she had given. Helen answered +faintly that she would not; but the words were hard for her to say +and it was an infinite relief to her to see Oakdale again, and to +feel that the strain would soon be over, for the time at any rate. + +"I shall stay somewhere in the neighborhood," said Mr. Harrison. +"You will let me see you often, Helen, will you not?" + +"Yes," answered Helen, mechanically. + +"I will come to-morrow," said the other, "and take you driving if +you like; I promised to go back and lunch with your aunt to-day, as +I thought I was to return to the city." In a moment more the +carriage stopped in front of Helen's home, and the girl, without +waiting for anyone to assist her, leaped out and with a hasty word +of parting, ran into the house. She heard the horses trotting away, +and then the door closed behind her, and she stood in the dark, +silent hallway. She saw no one, and after gazing about her for a +moment she stole into her little music-room and flung herself down +upon the couch, where she lay with her head buried in her hands. + +It was a long time afterwards when she glanced up again; she was +trembling all over, and her face was white. + +"In Heaven's name, how can I have done it?" she whispered hoarsely, +to herself. "How can I have done it? And what _am_ I to do now?" + +Nur wer der Minne Macht ent-sagt, nur wer der Liebe Lust verjagt + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + "Wie kommt's, dass du so traurig bist, + Da alles froh erscheint? + Man sieht dir's an den Augen an, + Gewiss, du hast geweint." + +Helen might have spent the afternoon in that situation, tormenting +herself with the doubts and fears that filled her mind, had it not +been for the fact that her presence was discovered by Elizabeth, the +servant, who came in to clean the room. The latter of course was +astonished to see her, but Helen was in no mood to vouchsafe +explanations. + +"Just leave me alone," she said. "I do not feel very well. And don't +tell father I am here yet." + +"Your father, Miss Helen!" exclaimed the woman; "didn't you get his +letter?" + +"What letter?" And then poor Helen was made aware of another +trouble. + +"Mr. Davis wrote Mrs. Roberts last night," answered the servant. +"He's gone away." + +"Away!" cried the girl. "Where to?" + +"To New York." Then the woman went on to explain that Mr. Davis had +been invited to take the place of a friend who was ill, and had left +Oakdale for a week. Helen understood that the letter must have +reached her aunt after her own departure. + +"Dear me!" the girl exclaimed, "How unfortunate! I don't want to +stay here alone." + +But afterwards it flashed over her that if she did she might be able +to have a week of quiet to regain her self-possession. "Mr. Harrison +couldn't expect to visit me if I were alone," she thought. "But +then, I suppose he could, too," she added hastily, "if I am engaged +to him! And I could never stand that!" + +"Miss Helen," said the servant, who had been standing and watching +her anxiously, "you look very ill; is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing," Helen answered, "only I want to rest. Leave me alone, +please, Elizabeth." + +"Are you going to stay?" the other asked; "I must fix up your room." + +"I'll have to stay," said Helen. "There's nothing else to do." + +"Have you had lunch yet?" + +"No, but I don't want any; just let me be, please." + +Helen expected the woman to protest, but she did not. She turned +away, and the girl sank back upon the couch and covered her face +again. + +"Everything has gone wrong!" she groaned to herself, "I know I shall +die of despair; I don't want to be here all alone with Mr. Harrison +coming here. Dear me, I wish I had never seen him!" + +And Helen's nervous impatience grew upon her, until she could stand +it no more, and she sprang up and began pacing swiftly up and down +the room; she was still doing that when she heard a step in the hall +and saw the faithful servant in the doorway with a tray of luncheon. +Elizabeth asked no questions about matters that did not concern her, +but she regarded this as her province, and she would pay no +attention to Helen's protests. "You'll be ill if you don't eat," she +vowed; "you look paler than I ever saw you." + +And so the girl sat down to attempt to please her, Elizabeth +standing by and talking to her in the meantime; but Helen was so +wrapped up in her own thoughts that she scarcely heard a word--until +the woman chanced to ask one question: "Did you hear about Mr. +Arthur?" + +And Helen gazed up at her. "Hear about him?" she said, "hear what +about him?" + +"He's very ill," said Elizabeth. Helen gave a start. + +"Ill!" she gasped. + +"Yes," said Elizabeth, "I thought you must know; Mr. Davis was over +to see him yesterday." + +"What is the matter?" + +"The doctor said he must have been fearfully run down, and he was +out in the storm and caught a cold; and he's been in a very bad way, +delirious and unconscious by turns for two or three days." + +Helen was staring at the servant in a dumb fright. "Tell me, +Elizabeth," she cried, scarcely able to say the words, "he is not +dangerously ill?" + +"The danger is over now," the other answered, "so the doctor said, +or else Mr. Davis would never have left; but he's in a bad way and +it may be some time before he's up again." + +Perhaps it was the girl's overwrought condition that made her more +easily alarmed just then, for she was trembling all over as she +heard those words. She had forgotten Arthur almost entirely during +the past two days, and he came back to her at that moment as another +thorn in her conscience. + +"Mr. Davis said he wrote you to go and see him," went on the +servant; "shall you, Miss Helen?" + +"I--I don't know," said Helen faintly, "I'll see." + +As a matter of fact, she knew that she almost certainly would _not_ +go to see Arthur after what had just passed; even to have him find +out about it was something of which she simply could not think. She +felt dread enough at having to tell her father of what had occurred +with Mr. Harrison, and to see Arthur, even though he did not know +about it, she knew was not in her power. + +"Perhaps I ought not to have told you about it until after you had +had your lunch; you are not eating anything, Miss Helen." + +"I don't want anything," said Helen, mournfully; "take it now, +please, Elizabeth, and please do not trouble me any more. I have a +great deal to worry me." + +When the woman had left the room, Helen shut the door and then sat +down on a chair, staring blankly before her; there was a mirror just +across the room, and her own image caught her eye, startling her by +its pale and haggard look. + +"Dear me, it's dreadful!" she cried aloud, springing up. "Why _did_ +I let people trouble me in this way? I can't help Arthur, and I +couldn't have helped him in the beginning. It's every bit of it his +own fault, and I don't see why I should let it make me ill. And it's +the same with the other thing; I could have been happy without all +that wealth if I'd never seen it, and now I know I'll never be happy +again,--oh, I know it!" + +And Helen began once more pacing up and down. + +"I never was this way before in my life," she cried with increasing +vexation, "and I won't have it!" + +She clenched her hands angrily, struggling within herself to shake +off what was tormenting her. But she might as well have tried to +shake off a mountain from her shoulders; hers had been none of the +stern experience that gives power and command to the character, and +of the kind of energy that she needed she had none, and not even a +thought of it. She tried only to forget her troubles in some of her +old pleasures, and when she found that she could not read, and that +the music she tried to play sounded hollow and meaningless, she +could only fling herself down upon the sofa with a moan. There, +realizing her own impotence, she sank into dull despair, unable any +longer to realize the difficulties which troubled her, and with only +one certainty in her mind--that she was more lost and helpless than +she had ever thought it possible for her to be. + +Time is not a thing of much consequence under such circumstances, +and it was a couple of hours before Helen was aroused. She heard a +carriage stop at the door, and sprang up in alarm, with the thought +that it might be Mr. Harrison. But as she stood trembling in the +middle of the room she heard a voice inquiring for her, and +recognized it as that of her aunt; a moment later Mrs. Roberts +rushed into the room, and catching sight of Helen, flung her arms +eagerly about her. + +"My dear girl," she cried, "Mr. Harrison has just told me about what +has happened!" And then as she read her niece's state of mind in her +countenance, she added, "I expected to find you rejoicing, Helen; +what is the matter?" + +In point of fact the woman had known pretty well just how she would +find Helen, and having no idea of leaving her to her own tormenting +fancies, she had driven over the moment she had finished her lunch. +"I received your father's letter," she said, without waiting for +Helen to answer her, "so I came right over to take you back." + +"To take me back!" echoed Helen. + +"Yes, my dear; you don't suppose I mean to leave you here all alone +by yourself, do you? And especially at such a time as this, when Mr. +Harrison wants to see you?" + +"But, Aunt Polly," protested Helen, "I don't want to see him!" + +"Don't want to see him? Why, my dear girl, you have promised to be +his wife!" + +Mrs. Roberts saw Helen shudder slightly, and so she went on quickly, +"He is going to stay at the hotel in the village; you won't find it +the same as being in the house with him. But I do assure you, child, +there never was a man more madly in love than he is." + +"But, Auntie, dear, that Mr. Howard, too!" protested Helen, +trembling. + +"He will not interfere with you, for he never makes any noise; and +you'll not know he's there. Of course, you won't play the piano, but +you can do anything else you choose. And Mr. Harrison will probably +take you driving every day." Then seeing how agitated Helen was, her +aunt put her arms around her again, and led her to the sofa. "Come, +Helen," she said, "I don't blame you for being nervous. I know just +how you feel, my dear." + +"Oh, Aunt Polly!" moaned the girl. "I am so wretched!" + +"I know," laughed Aunt Polly; "it's the idea of having to marry him, +I suppose; I felt the very same way when I was in your place. But +you'll find that wears off very quickly; you'll get used to seeing +him. And besides, you know that you've _got_ to marry him, if you +want any of the other happiness!" + +And Mrs. Roberts stopped and gazed about her. "Think, for instance, +my dear," she went on, "of having to be content with this dingy +little room, after having seen that magnificent place of his! Do you +know, Helen, dear, that I really envy you; and it seems quite +ridiculous to come over here and find you moping around. One would +think you were a hermit and did not care anything about life." + +"I do care about it," said the other, "and I love beautiful things +and all; but, Aunt Polly, I can't help thinking it's dreadful to +have to marry." + +"Come and learn to like Mr. Harrison," said the other, cheerfully. +"Helen, you are really too weak to ruin your peace of mind in this +way; for you could see if you chose that all your troubles are of +your own making, and that if you were really determined to be happy, +you could do it. Why don't you, dear?" + +"I don't know," protested the girl, faintly; "perhaps I am weak, but +I can't help it." + +"Of course not," laughed the other, "if you spend your afternoons +shut up in a half-dark room like this. When you come with me you +won't be able to do that way; and I tell you you'll find there's +nothing like having social duties and an appearance to maintain in +the world to keep one cheerful. If you didn't have me at your elbow +I really believe you'd go all to pieces." + +"I fear I should," said the girl; but she could not help laughing as +she allowed herself to be led upstairs, and to have the dust bathed +from her face and the wrinkles smoothed from her brow. In the +meantime her diplomatic aunt was unobtrusively dropping as many +hints as she could think of to stir Helen to a sense of the fact +that she had suddenly become a person of consequence; and whether it +was these hints or merely the reaction natural to Helen, it is +certain that she was much calmer when she went down to the carriage, +and much more disposed to resign herself to meeting Mr. Harrison +again. And Mrs. Roberts was correspondingly glad that she had been +foreseeing enough to come and carry her away; she had great +confidence in her ability to keep Helen from foolish worrying, and +to interest her in the great future that was before her. + +"And then it's just as well that she should be at my house where she +can find the comfort that she loves," she reflected. "I can see that +she learns to love it more every day." + +The great thing, of course, was to keep her ambition as much awake +as possible, and so during the drive home Mrs. Roberts' conversation +was of the excitement which the announcement of Helen's engagement +would create in the social world, and of the brilliant triumph which +the rest of her life would be, and of the vast preparations which +she was to make for it. The trousseau soon came in for mention then; +and what woman could have been indifferent to a trousseau, even for +a marriage which she dreaded? After that the conversation was no +longer a task, for Helen's animation never failed to build itself up +when it was once awake; she was so pleased and eager that the drive +was over before she knew it, and before she had had time for even +one unpleasant thought about meeting Mr. Harrison. + +It proved not to be a difficult task after all, for Mr. Harrison was +quiet and dignified, and even a little reserved, as Helen thought, +so that it occurred to her that perhaps he was offended at the +vehemence with which she had repelled him. She did not know, but it +seemed to her that perhaps it might have been his right to embrace +her after she had promised to marry him; the thought made her +shudder, yet she felt sure that if she had asked her aunt she would +have learned that she was very much in the wrong indeed. Helen's +conscience was very restless just at that time, and it was pleasant +to be able to lull it by being a little more gracious and kind to +her ardent lover. The latter of course responded joyfully, so that +the remainder of the afternoon passed quite pleasantly. + +When Mr. Roberts arrived and had been acquainted with the tidings, +he of course sought the first opportunity to see the girl, and to +congratulate her upon her wonderful fortune. Helen had always found +in her uncle a grave, business-like person, who treated her with +indifference, and therefore inspired her with awe; it was not a +little stirring to her vanity to find that she was now a person of +sufficient consequence to reverse the relation. This fact did yet a +little more to make her realize the vastness of her sudden conquest, +and so throughout dinner she was almost as exulting in her own heart +as she had been at the same time on the previous day. + +Her animation mounted throughout the evening, for Mr. Harrison and +her aunt talked of the future--of endless trips abroad, and of +palatial houses and royal entertainments at home--until the girl was +completely dazed. Afterwards, when she and Mr. Harrison were left +alone, Helen fascinated her companion as completely as ever, and was +radiant herself, and rejoicing. As if to cap the climax, Mr. +Harrison broached the subject of a trip to New York, to see if she +could find anything at the various picture dealers to suit her music +room, and also of a visit to Fairview to meet an architect and +discuss her plan there. + +The girl went up to her room just as completely full of exultation +as she had been upon the night before, yet more comfortable in the +conviction that there would be no repetition of that night's worry. +Yet even as the thought occurred to her, it made her tremble; and as +if some fiend had arranged it especially for her torment, as she +passed down the hall a nurse came silently out of one of the rooms, +and through the half open doorway Helen fancied that she heard a low +moan. She shuddered and darted into her own room and locked the +door; yet that did not exclude the image of the sufferer, or keep it +from suggesting a train of thought that plunged the girl into +misery. It made her think of Arthur, and of the haggard look that +had been upon his face when he left her; and all Helen's angry +assertions that it was not her fault could not keep her from +tormenting herself after that. Always the fact was before her that +however sick he might be, even dying, she could never bear to see +him again, and so Arthur became the embodiment of her awakening +conscience. + +The result was that the girl slept very little that night, spending +half of it in fact alternately sitting in a chair and pacing the +room in agitation, striving in vain to find some gleam of light to +guide her out of the mazes in which she was lost. The gray dawn +found her tossing feverishly about upon her pillow, yearning for the +time when she had been happy, and upbraiding herself for having been +drawn into her present trouble. + +When she arose later on, she was more pale and wearied than she had +been upon the morning before; then she had at least possessed a +resolution, while this time she was only helpless and despairing. +Thus her aunt found her when she came in to greet her, and the +dismay of the worthy matron may be imagined. + +However, being an indefatigable little body, she set bravely to work +again; first of all, by rebuking the girl for her weakness she +managed to rouse her to effort once more, and then by urging the +necessity of seeing people and of hiding her weakness, she managed +to obtain at last a semblance of cheerfulness. In the meantime Mrs. +Roberts was helping her to dress and to remove all traces of her +unhappiness, so that when Helen descended to breakfast she had +received her first lesson in one of the chief tasks of the social +regime: + + "Full many in the silent night + Have wept their grief away; + And in the morn you fancy + Their hearts were ever gay." + +And Helen played her part so well that Mrs. Roberts was much +encouraged, and beamed upon her across the table. As a matter of +fact, because her natural happiness was not all crushed, and because +playing a part was not easy to the girl, she was very soon +interested in the various plans that were being discussed. When Mr. +Harrison called later on and proposed a drive, she accepted with +genuine pleasure. + +To be sure, she found it a trifle less thrilling than on the day +before, for the novelty was gone; but that fact did not cause her +much worry. In all her anticipations of the pleasure before her, it +had occurred to her as little as it occurs to others in her +situation to investigate the laws of the senses through which the +pleasure is to be obtained. There is a whole moral philosophy to be +extracted from the little word "ennui" by those who know; but Helen +was not of the knowing. She believed that when she was tired of the +horses she could delight herself with her beautiful house, and that +when she was tired of the house she could have a new one. All her +life she had been deriving ecstasy from beautiful things, from +dresses, and flowers, and books, and music, and pictures; and of +course it was only necessary to have an infinite quantity of such +things in order to be infinitely happy. The way to have the infinite +quantity was to marry Mr. Harrison, or at any rate that was Helen's +view, and she was becoming more and more irritated because it did +not work well in practice, and more and more convinced that her aunt +must be right in blaming her weakness. + +In the meantime, being in the open air and among all the things that +she loved, she was bound to rejoice once more; and rejoice she did, +not even allowing herself to be hindered by Mr. Harrison's too +obvious failures to comprehend her best remarks. Helen argued that +she was not engaged to the man because of his cleverness, and that +when she had come to the infinite happiness towards which she was +traveling so fast, she would have inspiration enough for two. She +had enough for the present to keep them both happy throughout the +drive, and when she returned she found that some of the neighbors +had driven over to see her, and to increase her excitement by their +congratulations. The Machiavellian Aunt Polly had told the news to +several friends on the day before, knowing full well that it would +spread during the night, and that Helen would have her first taste +of triumph the next day. + +And so it continued, and exactly as on the night before, the +feverish excitement swept Helen on until the bedtime hour arrived. +Then she went up into her room alone, to wrestle with the same +dreadful specter as before. + +The story of that day was the story of all that followed; Helen was +destined to find that she might sweep herself away upon the wings of +her ambition as often as she chose, and revel all she pleased in the +thought of Mr. Harrison's wealth; but when the excitement was over, +and she came to be all alone, she could think only of the one +dreadful fact of the necessity of marrying him. She was paying a +Faustus price for her happiness; and in the night time the price +stared at her, and turned all her happiness to misery. + +A state of mind such as this was so alien to Helen that it would +have been strange indeed if she had sunk into it without protest and +rebellion; as day after day passed, and the misery continued, her +dissatisfaction with everything about her built itself into a +climax; more and more plainly she was coming to see the widening of +the gulf between the phantom she was pursuing and the place, where +she stood. Finally there came one day, nearly a week after her +engagement, when Helen was so exhausted and so wretched that she had +made up her mind to remain in her room, and had withstood all her +aunt's attempts to dissuade her. She had passed the morning in bed, +between equally vain attempts to become interested in a book and to +make up for the sleep she had missed during the night, and was just +about giving up both in despair when the maid entered to say that +Elizabeth wished to see her. Helen gave a start, for she knew that +something must be wrong; when the woman entered she asked +breathlessly what it was. + +"It's about Mr. Arthur," was the hurried reply, and Helen turned +paler than ever, and clutched the bedclothing in her trembling +hands. + +"What is it?" she cried. + +"Why you know, Miss Helen," said Elizabeth, "your father wrote me to +go and see him whenever I could, and I've just come from there this +morning." + +"And how is he?" + +"He looked dreadful, but he had gotten up to-day, and he was sitting +by the window when I came in. He was hardly a shadow of himself." + +Helen was trembling. "You have not been to see him?" asked the +woman. + +"No," said Helen, faintly, "I--" and then she stopped. + +"Why not?" Elizabeth inquired anxiously. + +"He did not ask for me, did he?" asked the girl, scarcely able to +utter the words. + +"No," said the woman, "but you know, everybody told me you were +engaged to a rich man--" + +And Helen started forwrard with a cry. "Elizabeth!" she gasped, +"you--you didn't---!" + +"Yes," said the other, "I told him." And then seeing the girl's look +of terror, she stopped short. Helen stared at her for fully half a +minute without uttering a word; and then the woman went on, slowly, +"It was very dreadful, Miss Helen; he went almost crazy, and I was +so frightened that I didn't know what I should do. Please tell me +what is the matter." + +Helen was still gazing dumbly at the woman, seeming not to have +heard the last question. "I--I can't tell you," she said, when it +was repeated again; "you ought not to have told him, Elizabeth." + +"Miss Helen," cried the woman, anxiously, "you _must_ do something! +For I am sure that I know what is the matter; he loves you, and you +must know it, too. And it will certainly kill him; weak as he was, +he rushed out of the house, and I could not find him anywhere. Miss +Helen, you _must_ go and see him!" + +The girl sat with the same look of helpless fright upon her face, +and with her hands clenched tightly between her knees; the other +went on talking hurriedly, but Helen scarcely heard anything after +that; her mind was too full of its own thoughts. It was several +minutes more before she even noticed that the woman was still +insisting that she must go to see Artheur. "Please leave me now!" +she cried wildly; "please leave me! I cannot explain anything,--I +want to be alone!" And when the door was shut she became once more +dumb and motionless, staring blankly ahead of her, a helpless victim +of her own wretched thoughts. + +"That is the end of it," she groaned to herself; "oh, that is the +end of it!" + +Winkt dir nicht hold die hehre Burg? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + Thou would'st be happy, + Endlessly happy, + Or endlessly wretched. + +Helen was quite powerless to do anything whatever after that last +piece of misfortune; it seemed as if she could have remained just +where she was for hours, shuddering at the sight of what was +happening, yet utterly helpless before it. The world was taking a +very serious aspect indeed to the bright and laughing girl, who had +thought of it as the home of birds and flowers; yet she knew not +what to make of the change, or how she was to blame for it, and she +could only sit still and tremble. She was in the same position and +the same state of mind when her aunt entered the room some minutes +later. + +Mrs. Roberts stood watching her silently, and then as Helen turned +her gaze of pleading misery upon her, she came forward and sat down +in a chair by the bedside, and fixed her keen eyes upon the girl. + +"Oh, Aunt Polly!" cried Helen; "what am I to do? I am so wretched!" + +"I have just been talking to Elizabeth," said Mrs. Roberts, with +some sternness, "and she's been telling you about Arthur--is that +what is the matter with you, Helen?" + +"Yes," was the trembling response, "what can I do?" + +"Tell me, Helen, in the first place," demanded the other. "When you +saw Arthur that day in the woods, what did you do? Did you make him +any promises?" + +"No, Auntie." + +"Did you hold out any hopes to him? Did you say anything to him at +all about love?" + +"I--I told him it was impossible," said Helen, eagerly, clutching at +that little crumb of comfort. + +"Then in Heaven's name, child," cried the other in amazement, "what +is the matter with you? If Arthur chooses to carry on in this +fashion, why in the world should you punish yourself in this +horrible way? What is the matter with you, Helen? Are you +responsible to him for your marriage? I don't know which is the most +absurd, the boy's behavior, or your worrying about it." + +"But, Auntie," stammered the girl, "he is so ill--he might die!" + +"Die, bosh!" exclaimed Mrs. Roberts; "he frightened Elizabeth by his +ravings; it is the most absurd nonsense,--he a penniless +school-teacher, and the Lord only knows what besides! I only wish +I'd been there to talk to him, for I don't think he'd have +frightened me! What in the world do you suppose he wants, anyway? Is +he mad enough to expect you to marry him?" + +"I don't know, Aunt Polly," said Helen, weakly. + +"I'd never have believed that Arthur could be capable of anything so +preposterous as this behavior," vowed Mrs. Roberts; "and then to +come up here and find you wearing yourself to a skeleton about it!" + +"It isn't only that, Auntie," protested Helen, "there is so much +else; I am miserable!" + +"Yes," said the other, grimly; "I see it as well as you, and there's +just about as much reason in any of it as in the matter of Arthur." +Then Mrs. Roberts moved her chair nearer, and after gazing at Helen +for a moment, began again. "I've been meaning to say something to +you, and it might just as well be said now. For all this matter is +coming to a climax, Helen; it can't go on this way very much longer, +for you'll kill yourself. It's got to be settled one way or the +other, once and for all." And Mrs. Roberts stopped and took a deep +breath, preparing for one more struggle; Helen still gazed at her +helplessly. + +"I'm not going to say anything more about Arthur," declared the +woman; "if you choose to torment yourself about such absurdities, I +can't help it. Arthur's behavior is not the least your fault, and +you know it; but all the other trouble is your fault, and there's +nobody else to blame. For the question is just as simple as the day, +Helen, and you must see it and decide it; you've got to choose +between one of two things, either to marry Mr. Harrison or to give +him up; and there's no excuse for your hesitating and tormenting +yourself one day longer." + +Then the indomitable woman set to work at her old task of conjuring +up before the girl's eyes all the allurements that had so often made +her heart throb; she, pictured Fairview and all its luxuries, and +the admiration and power that must be hers when she was mistress of +it; and she mentioned every other source of pleasure that she knew +would stir Helen's eager thirst. After having hammered away at that +theme until she saw signs of the effect she desired, she turned to +the other side of the picture. + +"Helen," she demanded, "is it really possible for you to think of +giving up these things and going back to live in that miserable +little house at Oakdale? Can you not see that you would be simply +burying yourself alive? You might just as well be as ugly as those +horrible Nelson girls across the way. Helen, you _know_ you belong +to a different station in life than those people! You know you have +a right to some of the beautiful things in the world, and you know +that after this vision of everything perfect that you have seen, you +can never possibly be happy in your ignorant girlish way again. You +have promised Mr. Harrison to marry him, and made him go to all the +expense that he has; and you've told everybody you know, and all the +world is talking about your triumph; and you've had Mr. Roberts go +to all the trouble he has about your trousseau,--surely, Helen, you +cannot dream of changing your mind and giving all this up. It is +ridiculous to talk about it." + +"I don't want to give it up," protested the girl, moaning, "but, oh, +I can't--" + +"I know!" exclaimed the other. "I've heard all that a thousand +times. Don't you see, Helen, that you've simply _got_ to marry him! +There is no other possibility to think of, and all of your weakness +is that you don't perceive that fact, and make up your mind to it. +Just see how absurd you are, to make yourself ill in this way." + +"But I can't help it, Auntie, indeed I can't!" + +"You could help it if you wanted to," vowed the other. "I am quite +disgusted with you. I have told you a thousand times that this is +all an imaginary terror that you are conjuring up for yourself, to +ruin your health and happiness. When you have married him you will +see that it's just as I tell you, and you'll laugh at yourself for +feeling as you did." + +"But it's in the meantime, Aunt Polly--it's having to think about +it that frightens me." + +"Well, let me tell you one thing," said Mrs. Roberts; "if I found +that I couldn't cure myself of such weakness as this, sooner than +let it ruin my life and make everyone about me wretched, I'd settle +the matter right now and forever; I'd marry him within a week, +Helen!" And the resolute little woman clenched her hands grimly. +"Yes, I would," she exclaimed, "and if I found I hadn't strength +enough to hold my resolution, I'd marry him to-morrow, and there'd +be an end to it!" + +"You don't realize, Helen, how you treat Mr. Harrison," she went on, +as the girl shuddered; "and how patient he is. You'd not find many +men like him in that respect, my dear. For he's madly in love with +you, and you treat him as coldly as if he were a stranger. I can see +that, for I watch you, and I can see how it offends him. You have +promised to be his wife, Helen, and yet you behave in this +ridiculous way. You are making yourself ill, and you look years +older every day, yet you make not the least attempt to conquer +yourself." + +So she went on, and Helen began to feel more and more that she was +doing a very great wrong indeed. Mrs. Roberts' sharp questioning +finally drew from her the story of her reception of Mr. Harrison's +one kiss, and Helen was made to seem quite ridiculous and even rude +in her own eyes; her aunt lectured her with such unaccustomed +sternness that she was completely frightened, and came to look upon +her action as the cause of all the rest of her misery. + +"It's precisely on that account that you still regard him as a +stranger," Mrs. Roberts vowed; "of course he makes no more advances, +and you might go on forever in that way." Helen promised that the +next time she was alone with Mr. Harrison she would apologize for +her rudeness, and treat him in a different manner. + +"I wish," Mrs. Roberts went on, "that I could only make you see as +plainly as I see, Helen, how very absurd your conduct is. Day by day +you are filling your mind with the thought of the triumph that is to +be yours, so that it takes hold of you and becomes all your life to +you; and all the time you know that to possess it there is one thing +which you have got to do. And instead of realizing the fact and +reconciling yourself to it, you sit down and torment yourself as if +you were a creature without reason or will. Can you not see that you +must be wretched?" + +"Yes, I see," said Helen, weakly. + +"You see it, but you make no effort to do anything else! You make me +almost give you up in despair. You will not see that this weakness +has only to be conquered once, and that then your life can be +happy!" + +"But, Auntie, dear," exclaimed Helen, "it is so hard!" + +"Anything in life would be hard for a person who had no more +resolution than you," responded the other. "Because you know nothing +about the world, you fancy you are doing something very unusual and +dreadful; but I assure you it's what every girl has to do when she +marries in society. And there's no one of them but would laugh at +your behavior; you just give Mr. Harrison up, and see how long it +would be before somebody else would take him! Oh, child, how I wish +I could give you a little of my energy; you would go to the life +that is before you in a very different way, I promise you! For +really the only way that you can have any happiness in the world is +to be strong and take it, and if you once had a purpose and some +determination you would feel like a different person. Make up your +mind what you wish to do, Helen, and go and do it, and take hold of +yourself and master yourself, and show what you are made of!" + +Aunt Polly was quite sublime as she delivered that little exordium; +and to the girl, anxious as she was for her old strength and +happiness, the words were like music. They made her blood flow +again, and there was a light in her eyes. + +"Oh, Auntie," she said, "I'll try to." + +"Try!" echoed the other, "what comes of all your trying? You have +been reveling for a week in visions of what is to be yours; and that +ought surely to have been enough time for you to make up your mind; +and yet every time that I find you alone, all your resolution is +gone; you simply have no strength, Helen!" + +"Oh, I will have it!" cried the girl; "I don't mean to do this way +any more; I never saw it so plainly." + +"You see it now, because I'm talking to you, and you always do see +it then. But I should think the very terror of what you have +suffered would serve as a motive, and make you quite desperate. Can +you not see that your very safety depends upon your taking this +resolution and keeping it, and not letting go of it, no matter what +happens? From what I've seen of you, Helen, I know that if you do +not summon all your energies together, and fling aside every purpose +but this, and act upon it _now_, while you feel it so keenly, you +will surely fail. For anybody can withstand a temptation for a +while, when his mind is made up; all the trouble is in keeping it +made up for a long time. I tell you if I found I was losing, sooner +than surrender I would do anything, absolutely anything!" + +Mrs. Roberts had many more words of that heroic kind; she was a +vigorous little body, and she was quite on fire with enthusiasm just +then, and with zeal for the consummation of the great triumph. +Perhaps there is no occupation of men quite without its poetry, and +even a society leader may attain to the sublime in her devotion to +life as she sees it. Besides that the over-zealous woman was exalted +to eloquence just then by a feeling that she was nearer her goal +than ever before, and that she had only to spur Helen on and keep +her in her present glow to clinch the matter; for the girl was very +much excited indeed, and showed both by what she said and by the +change in her behavior that she was determined to have an end to her +own wretchedness and to conquer her shrinking from her future +husband at any cost. During all the time that she was dressing, her +aunt was stirring her resolution with the same appeal, so that Helen +felt that she had never seen her course so clearly before, or had so +much resolution to follow it. She spread out her arms and drank deep +breaths of relief because she was free from her misery, and knew how +to keep so; and at the same time, because she still felt tremblings +of fear, she clenched her hands in grim earnestness. When she was +ready to descend she was flushed and trembling with excitement, and +quite full of her resolution. "She won't have to go very far," Mrs. +Roberts mused, "for the man is madly in love with her." + +"I want you to look as beautiful as you can, dear," she said aloud, +by way of changing the subject; "besides Mr. Harrison, there'll be +another visitor at lunch to-day." + +"A stranger?" echoed Helen. + +"You remember, dear, when I told you of Mr. Howard I spoke of a +third person who was coming--Lieutenant Maynard?" + +"Oh, yes," said the girl; "is he here?" + +"Just until the late train this evening," answered the other. "He +got his leave as he expected, but of course he didn't want to come +while Mr. Howard was so ill." + +Helen remembered with a start having heard someone say that Mr. +Howard was better. "Auntie," she cried, "he won't be at lunch, will +he? I don't want to see him." + +"He won't, dear," was the reply; "the doctor said he could leave his +room to-day, but it will be afterwards, when you have gone driving +with Mr. Harrison." + +"And will he leave soon?" asked Helen, shuddering; the mention of +the invalid's name had instantly brought to her mind the thought of +Arthur. + +"He will leave to-morrow, I presume; he probably knows he has caused +us trouble enough," answered Mrs. Roberts; and then reading Helen's +thought, and seeing a sign upon her face of the old worry, she made +haste to lead her down the stairs. + +Helen found Mr. Harrison in conversation with a tall, +distinguished-looking man in naval uniform, to whom she was +introduced by her aunt; the girl saw that the officer admired her, +which was only another stimulant to her energies, so that she was at +her cleverest during the meal that followed. She accepted the +invitation of Mr. Harrison to go with him to Fairview during the +afternoon, and after having been in her room all the morning, she +was looking forward to the drive with no little pleasure, as +also--to the meeting with the architect whom Mr. Harrison said would +be there. + +It seemed once as if the plan were to be interrupted, and as if her +excitement and resolution were to come to naught, for a telegram +arrived for Mr. Harrison, and he announced that he was called away +to New York upon some business. But as it proved, this was only +another circumstance to urge her on in carrying out her defiant +resolution, for Mr. Harrison added that he would not have to leave +until the evening, and her aunt gazed at the girl significantly, to +remind her of how little time there was. Helen felt her heart give a +sudden leap, and felt a disagreeable trembling seize upon her; her +animation became more feverish yet in consequence. + +After the luncheon, when she ran up for her hat and gloves, her aunt +followed her, but Helen shook her off with a laughing assurance that +everything would be all right, and then ran out into the hallway; +she did not go on, however, for something that she saw caused her to +spring quickly back, and turn pale. + +"What is it?" whispered her aunt, as Helen put her finger to her +lips. + +"It's _he!_" replied the girl, shuddering; "wait!" + +"He" was the unfortunate invalid, who was passing down the hallway +upon the arm of Lieutenant Maynard; Helen shook her head at all her +aunt's laughing protests, and could not be induced to leave the room +until the two had passed on; then she ran down, and leaving the +house by another door, sprang into the carriage with Mr. Harrison +and was whirled away, waving a laughing good-by to her aunt. + +The fresh air and the swift motion soon completed the reaction from +Helen's morning unhappiness; and as generally happened when she was +much excited, her imagination carried her away in one of her wild +flights of joy, so that her companion was as much lost as ever in +admiration and delight. Helen told him countless stories, and made +countless half-comprehended witticisms, and darted a great many +mischievous glances which were comprehended much better; when they +had passed within the gates of Fairview, being on private land she +felt even less need of restraint, and sang "Dich, theure Halle, +gruss' ich wieder!" and laughed at her own cleverness quite as much +as if her companion had understood it all. + +After that it was a new delight to discover that work was +progressing rapidly upon the trimming of the forest and the turning +of the grass-grown road into a broad avenue; likewise the "hay crop" +was in, and the lawn plowed and raked and ready for grass seed, and +the undesirable part of the old furniture carted away,--all of which +things Helen knew had been done according to her commands. And +scarcely had all this been appreciated properly before the architect +arrived; Helen was pleased with him because for one thing he was +evidently very much impressed by her beauty, and for another because +he entered so understandingly into all her ideas. He and the girl +spent a couple of the happiest hours in discussing the details of +the wonderful music room, a thing which seemed to her more full of +delightful possibilities than any other in all her radiant future; +it was a sort of a child's dream to her, with a fairy godmother to +make it real, and her imagination ran riot in a vision of banks of +flowers, and of paintings of all things that embody the joys of +music, the "shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses." At night the +whole was to be illuminated in such a way as to give these +verisimilitude, and in the daytime it would be no less beautiful, +because it was to be almost all glass upon two sides. Helen was +rejoiced that the architect realized the importance of the fact that +"a music room ought to be out of doors;" and then as she made the +further welcome discovery that the moon would shine into it, she +vowed eagerly that there would be no lights at all in her music room +at those times. Afterwards she told a funny story of how Schumann +had been wont to improvise under such circumstances, until his +next-door neighbor was so struck by the romance of it that he +proceeded to imitate it, and to play somebody or other's technical +studies whenever the moon rose; at which narrative Helen and the +architect laughed very heartily, and Mr. Harrison with them, though +he would not have known the difference between a technical study and +the "Moonlight Sonata." + +Altogether, Helen was about as happy as ever throughout that +afternoon, tho one who watched her closely might have thought there +was something nervous about her animation, especially later on, when +the talk with the architect was nearing its end; Helen's eyes had +once or twice wandered uneasily about the room, and when finally the +man rose to leave, she asked him with a sudden desperate resolution +to look over the rest of the rooms and see what he thought of her +suggestions. The latter expressed himself as pleased to oblige her, +but he would probably have been somewhat chagrined had he known how +little Helen really attended to his remarks; her mind was in a +whirl, and all that he said sounded distant and vague; her one wish +was that he might stay and give her time to think. + +But Helen found the uselessness of shrinking, and the time came at +last when she saw to her despair that there was no more to say, and +that the man must go. In a few minutes more he was actually gone, +and she was left all alone in the great house with Mr. Harrison. + +The two went back into the dining room, where Mr. Harrison stood +leaning his hand upon the table, and Helen stood in front of him, +her lips trembling. Twice she made a faint attempt to speak, and +then she turned and began pacing up and down the room in agitation. +Mr. Harrison was watching her, seeing that there was something on +her mind, and also that her emotion made her more beautiful and more +disturbing to him than ever. + +At last Helen went and sat down upon a sofa at one side, and +clenching her hands very tightly about her knees, looked up at him +and said, in a faint voice, "I had something to say to you, Mr. +Harrison." Then she stopped, and her eyes fell, and her breath came +very hard. + +"What is it, dear?" asked Mr. Harrison gently. + +And Helen's lips trembled more than ever, and her voice sank still +lower as she said, "I--I don't know how to begin." + +The other was silent for a few moments more, after which he came +slowly across the room and sat down beside her. + +"Helen," he said, "I had something to say to you also; suppose I say +it first?" + +The girl's chest was heaving painfully, and her heart throbbing +violently, but she gazed into his eyes, and smiled, and answered him +"Very well." He took one of her burning hands in his, and she made +no resistance. + +"Helen, dear," he said, "do you remember it was nearly a week ago +that we stood in this same room, and that you promised to be my +wife? You were very cold to me then. I have been waiting patiently +for you to change a little, not venturing to say anything for fear +of offending you. But it is very hard--" + +He had bent forward pleadingly, and his face was very close to hers, +trying to read her heart. Perhaps it was well that he could not, for +it would have frightened him. The moment was one of fearful +suffering for Helen, tho there was no sign of it, except that she +was trembling like a leaf, and that her lips were white. There was +just a moment of suspense, and then with a cruel effort she mastered +herself and gazed up at the man, a smile forcing itself to her lips +again. + +"What is it that you wish?" she asked. + +"I want you to care for me," the other said--"to love me just a +little, Helen; will you?" + +"I--I think so," was the reply, in a scarcely audible voice. + +And Mr. Harrison pressed her hand in his and bent forward eagerly. +"Then I may kiss you, dear?" he asked; "you will not mind?" + +And Helen bowed her head and answered, "No." In this same instant, +as she sank forward the man clasped her in his arms; he pressed her +upon his bosom, and covered her cheeks and forehead with his +passionate, burning kisses. Helen, crushed and helpless in his +grasp, felt a revulsion of feeling so sudden and so overwhelming +that it was an agony to her, and she almost screamed aloud. She was +choking and shuddering, and her cheeks were on fire, while in the +meantime Mr. Harrison, almost beside himself with passion, pressed +her tighter to him and poured out his protestations of devotion. +Helen bore it until she was almost mad with the emotion that had +rushed over her, and then she made a wild effort to tear herself +free. Her hair was disordered, and her face red, and her whole being +throbbing with shame, but he still held her in his tight embrace. + +"You are not angry, Helen dear?" he asked. + +"No," the girl gasped + +"You told me that I might kiss you," he said; and she was so choking +with her emotion that she could not answer a word, she could only +shudder and submit to his will. And Mr. Harrison, supposing that her +emotions were very different from what they were, rested her head +upon his shoulder, smoothing back her tangled hair and whispering +into her ear how beautiful she was beyond any dream of his, and how +the present moment was the happiest of his lifetime. + +"I thought it would never come, dear," he said, kissing her forehead +again, "you were so very cold." Helen had not yet ceased fighting +the fearful battle in her own heart, and so as he looked into her +eyes, she gazed up at him and forced another ghastly smile to her +lips: they looked so very beautiful that Mr. Harrison kissed them +again and again, and he would probably have been content to kiss +them many times more, and to forget everything else in the bliss, +had Helen been willing. + +But she felt just then that if the strain continued longer she would +go mad; with a laugh that was half hysterical, she tore herself +loose by main force, and sprang up, reminding the other that he had +a train to catch. Mr. Harrison demurred, but the girl would hear no +more, and she took him by the hand and led him to the door, still +laughing, and very much flushed and excited, so that he thought she +was happier than ever. It would have startled him could he have seen +her as he went to call for the horses,--how she staggered and clung +to a pillar for support, as white as the marble she leaned against. + +He did not see her, however, and when the two were driving rapidly +away she was as vivacious as ever; Helen had fought yet one more +conflict, and her companion was not skilled enough in the study of +character to perceive that it was a desperate and hysterical kind of +animation. Poor Helen was facing gigantic shadows just then, and +life wore its most fearful and menacing look to her; she had plunged +so far in her contest that it was now a battle for life and death, +and with no quarter. She had made the choice of "Der Atlas," of +endless joy or endless sorrow, and in her struggle to keep the joy +she was becoming more and more frantic, more and more terrified at +the thought of the other possibility. She knew that to fail now +would mean shame and misery more overwhelming than she could bear, +and so she was laughing and talking with frenzied haste; and every +now and then she would stop and shudder, and then race wildly on,-- + + "Like one, that on a lonesome road + Doth walk in fear and dread, + And having once turned round walks on, + And turns no more his head; + Because he knows a frightful fiend + Doth close behind him tread." + +And so all through the ride, because the girl's shame and fear +haunted her more and more, she became more and more hysterical, and +more and more desperate; and Mr. Harrison thought that he had never +seen her so brilliant, and so daring, and so inspired; nor did he +have the least idea how fearfully overwrought she was, until +suddenly as they came to a fork in the road he took a different one +than she expected, and she clutched him wildly by the arm. "Why do +you do that?" she almost screamed. "Stop!" + +"What?" he asked in surprise. "Take this road?" + +"Yes!" exclaimed Helen. "Stop! Stop!" + +"But it's only half a mile or so farther," said Mr. Harrison, +reining up his horses, "and I thought you'd like the change." + +"Yes," panted Helen, with more agitation than ever. "But I +can't,--we'd have to go through Hilltown!" + +The wondering look of course did not leave the other's face at that +explanation. "You object to Hilltown?" he asked. + +"Yes," said Helen, shuddering; "it is a horrible place." + +"Why, I thought it was a beautiful town," laughed he. "But of course +it is for you to say." Then he gazed about him to find a place to +turn the carriage. "We'll have to go on a way," he said. "The road +is too narrow here. I'm sorry I didn't ask you, but I had no idea it +made any difference." + +They continued, however, for fully a mile, and the road remained +narrow, so that there was danger of upsetting in the ditch if they +tried to turn. "What do you wish me to do?" Mr. Harrison asked with +a smile. "The more we go on the longer it will take us if we are to +go back, and I may miss my train; is your prejudice against Hilltown +so very strong, Miss Davis?" + +"Oh, no," Helen answered, with a ghastly smile. "Pray go on; it's of +no consequence." + +As a matter of fact, it was of the greatest consequence; for that +incident marked the turning point of the battle in Helen's heart. +Her power seemed to go from her with every turn of the wheels that +brought her nearer to that dreaded place, and she became more and +more silent, and more conscious of the fearful fact that her +wretchedness was mastering her again. It seemed to her terrified +imagination as if everything was growing dark and threatening, as +before the breaking of a thunderstorm. + +"You must indeed dislike Hilltown, Miss Davis," said her companion, +smiling. "Why are you so very silent?" + +Helen made no reply; she scarcely heard him, in fact, so taken up +was she with what was taking place in her own mind; all her thoughts +then were about Arthur and what had become of him, and what he was +thinking about her; and chiefest of all, because her cheeks and +forehead had a fearfully conscious feeling, what he would think, +could he know what she had just been doing. Thus it was that as the +houses of Hilltown drew near, remorse and shame and terror were +rising, and her frantic protests against them were weakening, until +suddenly every emotion was lost in suspense, and the shadows of the +great elm-trees that arched the main street of the town closed them +in. Helen knew the house where Arthur lodged, and knew that she +should pass it in another minute; she could do nothing but wait and +watch and tremble. + +The carriage rattled on, gazed at by many curious eyes, for everyone +in Hilltown knew about the young beauty and the prize she had +caught; but Helen saw no one, and had eyes for only one thing, the +little white house where Arthur lodges. The carriage swept by and +she saw no one, but she saw that the curtain of Arthur's room was +drawn, and she shuddered at the thought, "Suppose he should be +dying!" Yet it was a great load off her mind to have escaped seeing +him, and she was beginning to breathe again and ask herself if she +still might not win the battle, when the carriage came to the end of +the town, and to a sight that froze her blood. + +There was a tavern by the roadside, a low saloon that was the curse +of the place, and she saw from the distance a figure come out of the +door. Her heart gave a fearful throb, for it was a slender figure, +clad in black, hatless and with disordered hair and clothing. In a +moment more, as Helen clutched the rail beside her and stared +wildly, the carriage had swept on and come opposite the man; and he +glanced up into Helen's eyes, and she recognized the face, in spite +of all its ghastly whiteness and its sunken cheeks; it was Arthur! + +There was just an instant's meeting of their looks, and then the +girl was whirled on; but that one glance was enough to leave her as +if paralyzed. She made no sound, nor any movement, and so her +companion did not even know that anything had happened until they +had gone half a mile farther; then as he chanced to glance at her he +reined up his horses with a cry. + +"Helen!" he exclaimed. "What is the matter?" The girl clutched his +arm so tightly that he winced, powerful man that he was. "Take me +home," she gasped. "Oh, quick, please take me home!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + "Peace! Sit you down, + And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, + If it be made of penetrable stuff." + +Helen ran up to her room when she reached home, and shut herself in, +and after that she had nothing to do but suffer. All of her +excitement was gone from her then, and with it every spark of her +strength; the fiends that had been pursuing her rose up and seized +hold of her, and lashed her until she writhed and cried aloud in +agony. She was helpless to resist them, knowing not which way to +turn or what to do,--completely cowed and terrified. But there was +no more sinking into the dull despair that had mastered her before; +the face of Arthur, as she had seen it in that one glimpse, had been +burned into her memory with fire, and she could not shut it from her +sight; when the fact that he had come from the tavern, and what that +must mean rose before her, it was almost more than she could bear, +cry out as she might that she could not help it, that she never +could have helped it, that she had nothing to do with it. Moreover, +if there was any possibility of the girl's driving out that specter, +there was always another to take its place. It was not until she was +alone in her room, until all her resolution was gone, and all of her +delusions, that she realized the actual truth about what she had +done that afternoon; it was like a nightmare to her then. She seemed +always to feel the man's arms clasping her, and whenever she thought +of his kisses her forehead burned her like fire, so that she flung +herself down by the bedside, and buried it in the pillows. + +It was thus that her aunt found her when she came in to call Helen +to dinner; and this time the latter's emotions were so real and so +keen that there was no prevailing over them, or persuading her to +anything. "I don't want to eat!" she cried again and again in answer +to her aunt's alarmed insistence. "No, I am not coming down! I want +to be alone! Alone, Aunt Polly--please leave me alone!" + +"But, Helen," protested Mrs. Roberts, "won't you please tell me what +is the matter? What in the world can have happened to you?" + +"I can't tell you," the girl cried hysterically. "I want you to go +and leave me alone!" And she shut the door and locked it, and then +began pacing wildly up and down the room, heedless of the fact that +her aunt was still standing out in the hallway; the girl was too +deeply shaken just then to have any thought about appearances. + +She was thinking about Arthur again, and about his fearful plight; +there rushed back upon her all the memories of their childhood, and +of the happiness which they had known together. The thought of the +broken figure which she had seen by the roadside became more fearful +to her every moment. It was not that it troubled her conscience, for +Helen could still argue to herself that she had done nothing to +wrong her friend, that there had been nothing selfish in her +attitude towards him; she had wished him to be happy. It seemed to +her that it was simply a result of the cruel perversity of things +that she had been trampling upon her friend's happiness in order to +reach her own, and that all her struggling had only served to make +things worse. The fact that it was not her fault, however, did not +make the situation seem less tragic and fearful to her; it had come +to such a crisis now that it drove her almost mad to think about it, +yet she was completely helpless to know what to do, and as she +strode up and down the room, she clasped her hands to her aching +head and cried aloud in her perplexity. + +Then too her surging thoughts hurried on to another unhappiness,--to +her father, and what he would say when he learned the dreadful news. +How could she explain it to him? And how could she tell him about +her marriage? At the mere thought of that the other horror seized +upon her again, and she sank down in a chair by the window and hid +her face in her hands. + +"Oh, how can I have done it?" she gasped to herself. "Oh, it was so +dreadful! And what am I to do now?" + +That last was the chief question, the one to which all others led; +yet it was one to which she could find no answer. She was completely +confused and helpless, and she exclaimed aloud again and again, "Oh, +if I could only find some one to tell me! I do not know how I can +keep Arthur from behaving in that dreadful way, and I know that I +cannot ever marry Mr. Harrison!" + +The more she tortured herself with these problems, the more agitated +she became. She sat there at the window, clutching the sill in her +hands and staring out, seeing nothing, and knowing only that the +time was flying, and that her anxiety was building itself up and +becoming an agony which she could not bear. + +"Oh, what am I to do?" she groaned again and again; and she passed +hours asking herself the fearful question; the twilight had closed +about her, and the moon had risen behind the distant hills. + +So oblivious to all things about her was she, that she failed at +first to notice something else, something which would ordinarily +have attracted her attention at once,--a sound of music which came +to her from somewhere near. It was the melody of Grieg's "An den +Frubling" played upon a violin, and it had stolen into Helen's heart +and become part of her own stormy emotion before she had even +thought of what it was or whence it came. The little piece is the +very soul of the springtime passion, and to the girl it was the very +utterance of all her yearning, lifting her heart in a great +throbbing prayer. When it had died away her hands were clenched very +tightly, and her breath was coming fast. + +She remained thus for a minute, forgetful of everything; then at +last she found herself thinking "it must be Mr. Howard," and waiting +to see if he would play again. But he did not do so, and Helen sat +in silence for a long time, her thoughts turned to him. She found +herself whispering "so he is a wonderful musician after all," and +noticing that the memory of his wan face frightened her no longer; +it seemed just then that there could be no one in the world more +wretched than herself. She was only wishing that he would begin +again, for that utterance of her grief had seemed like a victory, +and now in the silence she was sinking back into her despair. The +more she waited, the more impatient she grew, until suddenly she +rose from her seat. + +"He might play again if I asked him," she said to herself. "He would +if he knew I was unhappy; I wonder where he can be?" + +Helen's window was in the front of the house, opening upon a broad +lawn whose walks were marked in the moonlight by the high shrubbery +that lined them. Some distance beyond, down one of the paths, were +two summer-houses, and it seemed to her that the music had come from +one of them, probably the far one, for it had sounded very soft. No +sooner had the thought come to her than she turned and went quietly +to the door. She ran quickly down the steps, and seeing her aunt and +Mr. Roberts upon the piazza, she turned and passed out by one of the +side doors. + +Helen had yielded to a sudden impulse in doing thus, drawn by her +yearning for the music. When she thought about it as she walked on +it seemed to her a foolish idea, for the man could not possibly know +of her trouble, and moreover was probably with his friend the +lieutenant. But she did not stop even then, for her heart's hunger +still drove her on, and she thought, "I'll see, and perhaps he will +play again without my asking; I can sit in the near summer-house and +wait." + +She went swiftly on with that purpose in mind, not going upon the +path, because she would have been in the full moonlight, and in +sight of the two upon the piazza. She passed silently along by the +high hedge, concealed in its shadows, and her footsteps deadened by +the grass. She was as quiet as possible, wishing to be in the +summer-house without anyone's knowing it. + +And she had come very close to it indeed, within a few yards, when +suddenly she stopped short with an inward exclamation; the silence +of the twilight had been broken by a voice--one that seemed almost +beside her, and that startled her with a realization of the mistake +she had made. The two men were themselves in the house to which she +had been going. + +It was Mr. Howard's voice which she heard; he was speaking very low, +almost in a whisper, yet Helen was near enough to hear every word +that he uttered. + +"Most people would think it simply a happy and beautiful piece of +music," he said. "Most people think that of the springtime; but when +a man has lived as I, he may find that the springtime too is a great +labor and a great suffering,--he does not forget that for the +thousands of creatures that win the great fight and come forth +rejoicing, there are thousands and tens of thousands that go down, +and have their mite of life crushed out, and find the law very stern +indeed. Even those that win do it by a fearful effort, and cannot +keep their beauty long; so that the springtime passion takes on a +kind of desperate intensity when one thinks of it." + +The voice ceased again for a moment, and Helen stood gazing about +her; the words were not without a dimly-felt meaning to her just +then, and the tone of the man's voice seemed like the music she had +heard him play. She would have liked to stay and listen, tho she +knew that she had no right to. She was certain that she had not been +seen, because the little house was thickly wrapped about with +eglantine; and she stood, uncertain as to whether she ought to steal +back or go out and join the two men. In the meantime the voice began +again: + +"It gives a man a new feeling of the preciousness of life to know +keenly what it means to fail, to be like a tiny spark, struggling to +maintain itself in the darkness, and finding that all it can do is +not sufficient, and that it is sinking back into nothingness +forever. I think that is the meaning of the wild and startled look +that the creatures of the forest wear; and it is a very tragic thing +indeed to realize, and makes one full of mercy. If he knows his own +heart he can read the same thing in the faces of men, and he no +longer even laughs at their pride and their greediness, but sees +them quite infinitely wretched and pitiable. I do not speak merely +of the poor and hopeless people, the hunted creatures of society; +for this terror is not merely physical. It is the same imperative of +life that makes conscience, and so every man knows it who has made +himself a slave to his body, and sees the soul within him helpless +and sinking; and every man who has sinned and sees his evil stamped +upon the face of things outside him, in shapes of terror that must +be forever. Strange as it may seem, I think the man who lives most +rightly, the man of genius, knows the feeling most of all, because +his conscience is the quickest. It is his task to live from his own +heart, to take the power that is within him and wrestle with it, and +build new universes from it,--to be a pioneer of the soul, so to +speak, and to go where no man has ever been before; and yet all his +victory is nothing to him, because he knows so well what he might +have done. Every time that he shrinks, as he must shrink, from what +is so hard and so high in his own vision, he knows that yet another +glory is lost forever, and so it comes that he stands very near +indeed to the'tears of things.'" + +Mr. Howard stopped again, and Helen found herself leaning forward +and wondering. + +"I know more about those tears than most people," the man went on +slowly, after a long pause, "for I have had to build my own life in +that way; I know best of all the failure, for that has been my lot. +When you and I knew each other, I was very strong in my own heart, +and I could always find what joy and power I needed for the living +of my life; but there have come to me since, in the years that I +have dwelt all alone with my great trial, times when I think that I +have stood face to face with this thing that we speak of, this naked +tragedy and terror of existence. There have been times when all the +yearning and all the prayer that I had could not save me, when I +have known that I had not an ounce of resource left, and have sat +and watched the impulse of my soul die within me, and all my +strength go from me, and seen myself with fearful plainness as a +spark of yearning, a living thing in all its pitifulness and hunger, +helpless and walled up in darkness. To feel that is to be very near +indeed to the losing creatures and their sorrow, and the memory of +one such time is enough to keep a man merciful forever. For it is +really the deepest fact about life that a man can know;--how it is +so hazardous and so precious, how it keeps its head above the great +ocean of the infinite only by all the force it can exert; it happens +sometimes that a man does not discover that truth until it is too +late, and then he finds life very cruel and savage indeed, I can +tell you." + +Mr. Howard stopped, and Helen drew a deep breath; she had been +trembling slightly as she stood listening; then as he spoke again, +her heart gave a violent throb. "Some day," he said, "this girl that +we were talking about will have to come to that part of her life's +journey; it is a very sad thing to know." + +"She will understand her sonata better," said the officer. + +"No," was the reply; "I wish I could think even that; I know how +sorrow affects a person whose heart is true, how it draws him close +to the great heart of life, and teaches him its sacredness, and +sends him forth merciful and humble. But selfish misery and selfish +fear are no less ugly than selfish happiness; a person who suffers +ignobly becomes only disgusted and disagreeable, and more selfish +than ever. * * * But let us not talk any more about Miss Davis, for +it is not a pleasant subject; to a man who seeks as I do to keep his +heart full of worship the very air of this place is stifling, with +its idleness and pride. It gives the lie to all my faith about life, +and I have only to go back into my solitude and forget it as soon as +I can." + +"That ought not to be a difficult thing to do," said the officer. + +"It is for me," the other answered; "it haunts my thoughts all the +time." He paused for a while, and then he added, "I happened to +think of something I came across this morning, in a collection of +French verse I was reading; William, did you ever read anything of +Auguste Brizeux?" + +The other answered in the negative. + +"He has some qualities that are very rare in French poetry," went on +Mr. Howard. "He makes one think of Wordsworth. I happened to read a +homely little ballad of his,--a story of some of that tragedy of +things that we spoke of; one could name hundreds of such poems quite +as good, I suppose, but this happened to be the one I came across, +and I could not help thinking of Miss Davis and wondering if she +were really so cold and so hard that she could have heard this story +without shuddering. For it really shook me very much." + +"What is it?" the other asked. + +"I can tell you the story in a few words," said Mr. Howard. "To me +it was one of those flashes of beauty that frighten one and haunt +him long afterwards; and I do not quite like to think about it +again." + +The speaker's voice dropped, and the girl involuntarily crept a +little nearer to hear him; there was a tree in front of her, and she +leaned against it, breathing very hard, tho making no sound. + +"The ballad is called 'Jacques the Mason,'" said Mr. Howard, "There +are three little pictures in it; in the first of them you see two +men setting off to their work together, one of them bidding his wife +and children good-by, and promising to return with his friend for an +evening's feast, because the great building is to be finished. Then +you see them at work, swarming upon the structure and rejoicing in +their success; and then you hear the shouts of the crowd as the +scaffolding breaks, and see those two men hanging over the abyss, +clinging to a little plank. It is not strong enough to hold them +both, and it is cracking, and that means a fearful death; they try +to cling to the stones of the building and cannot, and so there +comes one of those fearful moments that makes a man's heart break to +think of. Then in the fearful silence you hear one of the men +whisper that he has three children and a wife; and you see the other +gaze at him an instant with terror in his eyes, and then let go his +hold and shoot down to the street below. And that is all of the +story." + +Mr. Howard stopped, and there followed a long silence; afterwards he +went on, his voice trembling: "That is all," he said, "except of +course that the man was killed. And I can think of nothing but that +body hurled down through the air, and the crushed figure and the +writhing limbs. I fancy the epic grandeur of soul of that poor +ignorant laborer, and the glory that must have flamed up in his +heart at that great instant; so I find it a dreadful poem, and +wonder if it would not frighten that careless girl to read it." + +Mr. Howard stopped again, and the officer asked if the story were +true. + +"I do not know that," answered the other, "nor do I care; it is +enough to know that every day men are called upon to face the +shuddering reality of existence in some such form as that. And the +question which it brought to my heart is, if it came to me, as +terrible as that, and as sudden and implacable, would I show myself +the man or the dastard? And that filled me with a fearful awe and +humility, and a guilty wonder whether somewhere in the world there +might not be a wall from which I should be throwing myself, instead +of nursing my illness as I do, and being content to read about +greatness. And oh, I tell you, when I think of such things as that, +and see the pride and worthlessness of this thing that men call +'high life,' it seemed to me no longer heedless folly, but dastardly +and fiendish crime, so that one can only bury his face in his hands +and sob to know of it. And William, the more I realized it, the more +unbearable it seemed to me that this glorious girl with all her +God-given beauty, should be plunging herself into a stream so foul. +I felt as if it were cowardice of mine that I did not take her by +the hand and try to make her see what madness she was doing." + +"Why do you not?" asked the lieutenant. + +"I think I should have, in my more Quixotic days," replied the +other, sadly; "and perhaps some day I may find myself in a kind of +high life where royal sincerity is understood. But in this world +even an idealist has to keep a sense of humor, unless he happens to +be dowered with an Isaiah's rage." + +Mr. Howard paused for a moment and laughed slightly; then, however, +he went on more earnestly: "Yet, as I think of it, I know that I +could frighten her; I think that if I should tell her of some of the +days and nights that I have spent in tossing upon a bed of fire, she +might find the cup of her selfishness a trifle less pleasant to +drink. It is something that I have noticed with people, that they +may be coarse or shallow enough to laugh at virtue and earnestness, +but there are very few who do not bow their heads before suffering. +For that is something physical; and they may harden their conscience +if they please, but from the possibility of bodily pain they know +that they can never be safe; and they seem to know that a man who +has walked with that demon has laid his hand upon the grim reality +of things, before which their shams and vanities shrink into +nothingness. The sight of it is always a kind of warning of the +seriousness of life, and so even when people feel no sympathy, they +cannot but feel fear; I saw for instance, that the first time this +girl saw me she turned pale, and she would not come anywhere near +me." + +As the speaker paused again, Lieutenant Maynard said, very quietly: +"I should think that would be a hard cross to bear, David." + +"No," said Mr. Howard, with a slight smile, "I had not that thought +in my mind. I have seen too much of the reality of life to trouble +myself or the the world with vanity of that very crude kind; I can +sometimes imagine myself being proud of my serenity, but that is one +step beyond at any rate. A man who lives in his soul very seldom +thinks of himself in an external way; when I look in the glass it is +generally to think how strange it is that this form of mine should +be that which represents me to men, and I cannot find anything they +might really learn about me, except the one physical fact of +suffering." + +"They can certainly not fail to learn that," said the other. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Howard sadly, "I know, if any man does, what it +is to earn one's life by suffering and labor. That is why I have so +mastering a sense of life's preciousness, and why I cannot reconcile +myself to this dreadful fact of wealth. It is the same thing, too, +that makes me feel so keenly about this girl and her beauty, and +keeps her in my thoughts. I don't think I could tell you how the +sight of her affected me, unless you knew how I have lived all these +lonely years. For I have had no friends and no strength for any of +the world's work, and all my battle has been with my own soul, to be +brave and to keep my self-command through all my trials; I think my +illness has acted as a kind of nervous stimulus upon me, as if it +were only by laboring to dwell upon the heights of my being night +and day that I could have strength to stand against despair. The +result is that I have lived for days in a kind of frenzy of effort, +with all my faculties at white heat; and it has always been the +artist's life, it has always been beauty that brought me the joy +that I needed, and given me the strength to go on. Beauty is the +sign of victory, and the prize of it, in this heart's battle; the +more I have suffered and labored, the more keenly I have come to +feel that, until the commonest flower has a song for me. And +William, the time I saw this girl she wore a rose in her hair, but +she was so perfect that I scarcely saw the flower; there is that in +a man's heart which makes it that to him the fairest and most sacred +of God's creatures must always be the maiden. When I was young, I +walked about the earth half drunk with a dream of love; and even +now, when I am twice as old as my years, and burnt out and dying, I +could not but start when I saw this girl. For I fancied that she +must carry about in that maiden's heart of hers some high notion of +what she meant in the world, and what was due to her. When a man +gazes upon beauty such as hers, there is a feeling that comes to him +that is quite unutterable, a feeling born of all the weakness and +failure and sin of his lifetime. For every true man's life is a +failure; and this is the vision that he sought with so much pain, +the thing that might have been, had he kept the faith with his own +genius. It is so that beauty is the conscience of the artist; and +that there must always be something painful and terrible about high +perfection. It was that way that I felt when I saw this girl's face, +and I dreamt my old dream of the sweetness and glory of a maiden's +heart. I thought of its spotlessness and of its royal scorn of +baseness; and I tell you, William, if I had found it thus I could +have been content to worship and not even ask that the girl look at +me. For a man, when he has lived as I have lived, can feel towards +anything more perfect than himself a quite wonderful kind of +humility; I know that all the trouble with my helpless struggling is +that I must be everything to myself, and cannot find anything to +love, and so be at peace. That was the way I felt when I saw this +Miss Davis, all that agitation and all that yearning; and was it not +enough to make a man mock at himself, to learn the real truth? I was +glad that it did not happen to me when I was young and dependent +upon things about me; is it not easy to imagine how a young man +might make such a woman the dream of his life, how he might lay all +his prayer at her feet, and how, when he learned of her fearful +baseness, it might make of him a mocking libertine for the rest of +his days?" + +"You think it baseness?" asked Lieutenant Maynard. + +"I tried to persuade myself at first that it must be only blindness; +I wondered to myself, 'Can she not see the difference between the +life of these people about her and the music and poetry her aunt +tells me she loves?' I never waste any of my worry upon the old and +hardened of these vulgar and worldly people; it is enough for me to +know why the women are dull and full of gossip, and to know how much +depth there is in the pride and in the wisdom of the men. But it was +very hard for me to give up my dream of the girl's purity; I +rememher I thought of Heine's 'Thou art as a flower,' and my heart +was full of prayer. I wondered if it might not be possible to tell +her that one cannot combine music and a social career, and that one +cannot really buy happiness with sin; I thought that perhaps she +might be grateful for the warning that in cutting herself off from +the great deepening experience of woman she was consigning herself +to stagnation and wretchedness from which no money could ever +purchase her ransom; I thought that possibly she did not see that +this man knew nothing of her preciousness and had no high thoughts +about her beauty. That was the way I argued with myself about her +innocence, and you may fancy the kind of laughter that came over me +at the truth. It is a ghastly thing, William, the utter hardness, +the grim and determined worldliness, of this girl. For she knew very +well what she was doing, and all the ignorance was on my part. She +had no care about anything in the world until that man came in, and +the short half hour that I watched them was enough to tell her that +her life's happiness was won. But only think of her, William, with +all her God-given beauty, allowing herself to be kissed by him! Try +to fancy what new kind of fiendishness must lie in her heart! I +remember that she is to marry him because he pays her millions, and +the word prostitution keeps haunting my memory; when I try to define +it, I find that the millions do not alter it in the least. That is a +very cruel thought,--a thought that drives away everything but the +prayer--and I sit and wonder what fearful punishment the hand of +Fate will deal out for such a thing as that, what hatefulness it +will stamp upon her for a sign to men. And then because the perfect +face still haunts my memory, I have a very Christ-like feeling +indeed,--that I could truly die to save that girl from such a +horror." + +There was another long silence, and then suddenly, Mr. Howard rose +from his seat. "William," he said in a different voice, "it is all +useless, so why should we talk so? The girl has to live her own life +and learn these things for herself. And in the meantime, perhaps I +am letting myself be too much moved by her beauty, for there are +many people in the world who are not beautiful, but who suffer +things they do not deserve to suffer, and who really deserve our +sympathy and help." + +"I fancy you'd not be much thanked for it in this case," said the +other, with a dry laugh. + +Mr. Howard stood for some moments in silence, and then turned away +to end the conversation. "I fear," he said, "that I have kept you +more than I have any right to. Let us go back to the house; it is +not very polite to our hostess to stay so long." + +"It must be nearly time for my train, anyhow," said the officer, and +a moment later the two had passed out of the summer-house and up the +path, Lieutenant Maynard carrying Mr. Howard's violin-case in his +hand. + +The two did not see Helen as they passed her; the reason was that +Helen was stretched out upon the ground by the side of the hedge. It +was not that she was hiding,--she had no thought of that; it was +because she had been struck there by the scathing words that she had +heard. Some of them were so bitter that they could only have filled +her with rage had she not known that they were true, and had she not +been awed by what she had learned of this man's heart. She could +feel only terror and fiery shame, and the cruel words had beaten her +down, first upon her knees, and then upon her face, and they lashed +her like whips of flame and tore into her flesh and made her writhe. +She dared not cry out, or even sob; she could only dig into the +ground with her quivering fingers, and lie there, shuddering in a +fearful way. Long after the two men were gone her cruel punishment +still continued, for she still seemed to hear his words, seared into +her memory with fire as they had been. What Mr. Howard had said had +come like a flash of lightning in the darkness to show her actions +as they really were; the last fearful sentences which she had heard +had set all her being aflame, and the thought of Mr. Harrison's +embraces filled her now with a perfect spasm of shame and loathing. + +"I sold myself to him for money!" she panted. "Oh, God, for money!" + +But then suddenly she raised herself up and stared about her, crying +out, half-hysterically, "No, no, it is not true! It is not true! I +could never have done it--I should have gone mad!" And a moment +later Helen had staggered to her feet. "I must tell him," she +gasped. "He must not think so of me!" + +Mr. Howard had come to her as a vision from a higher world, making +all that she had known and admired seem hideous and base; and her +one thought just then was of him. "He will still scorn me," she +thought, "but I must tell him I really did suffer." And heedless of +the fact that her hair was loose about her shoulders and her dress +wet with the dew of the grass, the girl ran swiftly up the lawn +towards the house, whispering again and again, "I must tell him!" + +It was only a minute more before she was near the piazza, and could +see the people upon it as they stood in the lighted doorway. Mr. +Howard was one of them, and Helen would have rushed blindly up to +speak to him, had it not been that another thought came to her to +stop her. + +"Suppose he should know of Arthur!" she muttered, clenching her +hands until the nails cut her flesh. "Oh, what would he think then? +And what could I tell him?" And she shrank back into the darkness, +like a black and guilty thing. She crept around the side of the +house and entered by another door, stealing into one of the darkened +parlors, where she flung herself down upon a sofa and lay trembling +before that new terror. When a few minutes had passed and she heard +a carriage outside, she sprang up wildly, with the thought that he +might be going. She had run half way to the door before she +recollected that the carriage must be for the lieutenant, and then +she stopped and stood still in the darkness, twisting her hands +together nervously and asking herself what she could do. + +It occurred to her that she could look down the piazza from the +window of the room, and so she went swiftly to it. The officer was +just descending to the carriage, Mr. Roberts with him, and her aunt +and Mr. Howard standing at the top of the steps, the latter's figure +clearly outlined in the moonlight. Helen's heart was so full of +despair and yearning just then that she could have rushed out and +flung herself at his feet, had he been alone; but she felt a new +kind of shrinking from her aunt. She stood hesitating, therefore, +muttering to herself, "I must let him know about it somehow, and he +will tell me what to do. Oh, I MUST! And I must tell him now, before +it is too late!" + +She stood by the window, panting and almost choking with her +emotion, kneading her hands one upon the other in frenzied +agitation; and then she heard Mr. Howard say to her aunt, "I shall +have to ask you to excuse me now, for I must not forget that I am an +invalid." And Helen clutched her burning temples, seeing him turn to +enter the house, and seeing that her chance was going. She glanced +around her, almost desperate, and then suddenly her heart gave a +great leap, for just beside her was something that had brought one +resource to her mind. She had seen the piano in the dim light, and +had thought suddenly of the song that Mr. Howard had mentioned. + +"He will remember!" she thought swiftly, as she ran to the +instrument and sat down before it. With a strength born of her +desperation she mastered the quivering of her hands, and catching +her breath, began in a weak and trembling voice the melody of +Rubenstein: + + "Thou art as a flower, + So pure and fair thou art; + I gaze on thee, and sorrow + Doth steal into my heart. + + "I would lay my hands upon thee, + Upon thy snowy brow, + And pray that God might keep thee + So pure and fair as now." + +Helen did not know how she was singing, she thought only of telling +her yearning and her pain; she was so choked with emotion that she +could scarcely utter a sound at all, and the song must have startled +those who heard it. It was laden with all the tears that had been +gathering in Helen's heart for days. + +She did not finish the song; she was thinking, "Will he understand?" +She stopped suddenly as she saw a shadow upon the porch outside, +telling her that Mr Howard had come nearer. There was a minute or so +of breathless suspense and then, as the shadow began to draw slowly +backwards, Helen clenched her hands convulsively, whispering to +herself, "He will think it was only an accident! Oh, what can I do?" + +There are some people all of whose emotions take the form of music; +there came into Helen's mind at that instant a melody that was the +very soul of her agitation and her longing--MacDowell's "To a Water +Lily;" the girl thought of what Mr. Howard had said about the +feeling that comes to suffering mortals at the sight of something +perfect and serene, and she began playing the little piece, very +softly, and with trembling hands. + +It is quite wonderful music; to Helen with her heart full of grief +and despair, the chords that floated so cold and white and high were +almost too much to be borne. She played desperately on, however, +because she saw that Mr. Howard had stopped again, and she did not +believe that he could fail to understand that music. + +So she continued until she came to the pleading song of the swan. +The music is written to a poem of Geibel's which tells of the +snow-white lily, and of the bird which wonders at its beauty; +afterwards, because there is nothing in all nature more cold and +unapproachable than a water-lily, and because one might sing to it +all day and never fancy that it heard him, the first melody rises +again, as keen and as high as ever, and one knows that his yearning +is in vain, and that there is nothing for him but his old despair. +When Helen came to that she could go no farther, for her +wretchedness had been heaping itself up, and her heart was bursting. +Her fingers gave way as she struck the keys, and she sank down and +hid her face in her arms, and broke into wild and passionate +sobbing. She was almost choking with her pent-up emotions, so shaken +that she was no longer conscious of what went on about her. She did +not hear Mr. Howard's voice, as he entered, and she did not even +hear the frightened exclamations of her aunt, until the latter had +flung her arms about her. Then she sprang up and tore herself loose +by main force, rushing upstairs and locking herself in her own room, +where she flung herself down upon the bed and wept until she could +weep no more, in the meantime not even hearing her aunt's voice from +the hallway, and altogether unconscious of the flight of time. + +When she sat up and brushed away her tangled hair and gazed about +her, everything in the house was silent. She herself was exhausted, +but she rose, and after pacing up and down the room a few minutes, +seated herself at the writing desk, and in spite of her trembling +fingers, wrote a short note to Mr. Gerald Harrison; then with a deep +breath of relief, she rose, and going to the window knelt down in +front of it and gazed out. + +The moon was high in the sky by that time, and the landscape about +her was flooded with its light. Everything was so calm and still +that the girl held her breath as she watched it; but suddenly she +gave a start, for she heard the sound of a violin again, so very +faint that she at first thought she was deluding herself. As she +listened, however, she heard it more plainly, and then she realized +in a flash that Mr. Howard must have heard her long-continued +sobbing, and that he was playing something for her. It was +Schumann's "Traumerei;" and as the girl knelt there her soul was +borne away upon the wings of that heavenly melody, and there welled +up in her heart a new and very different emotion from any that she +had ever known before; it was born, half of the music, and half of +the calm and the stillness of the night,--that wonderful peace which +may come to mortals either in victory or defeat, when they give up +their weakness and their fear, and become aware of the Infinite +Presence. When the melody had died away, and Helen rose, there was a +new light in her eyes, and a new beauty upon her countenance, and +she knew that her soul was right at last. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + + "Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, + Our fatal shadows that walk by us still." + +Naturally there was considerable agitation in the Roberts family on +account of Helen's strange behavior; early the next morning Mrs. +Roberts was at her niece's door, trying to gain admittance. This +time she did not have to knock but once, and when she entered she +was surprised to see that Helen was already up and dressing. She had +been expecting to find the girl more prostrated than ever, and so +the discovery was a great relief to her; she stood gazing at her +anxiously. + +"Helen, dear," she said, "I scarcely know how to begin to talk to +you about your extraordinary--" + +"I wish," interrupted Helen, "that you would not begin to talk to me +about it at all." + +"But you must explain to me what in the world is the matter," +protested the other. + +"I cannot possibly explain to you," was the abrupt reply. Helen's +voice was firm, and there was a determined look upon her face, a +look which quite took her aunt by surprise. + +"But, my dear girl!" she began once more. + +"Aunt Polly!" said the other, interrupting her again, "I wish +instead of talking about it you would listen to what I have to say +for a few moments. For I have made up my mind just what I am going +to do, and I am going to take the reins in my own hands and not do +any arguing or explaining to anyone. And there is no use of asking +me a word about what has happened, for I could not hope to make you +understand me, and I do not mean to try." + +As Helen uttered those words she fixed her eyes upon her aunt with +an unflinching gaze, with the result that Mrs. Roberts was quite too +much taken aback to find a word to say. + +Without waiting for anything more Helen turned to the table. "Here +is a letter," she said, "which I have written to Mr. Harrison; you +know his address in New York, I suppose?" + +"His address?" stammered the other; "why,--yes, of course. But what +in the world--" + +"I wish this letter delivered to him at once, Aunt Polly," Helen +continued. "It is of the utmost importance, and I want you to do me +the favor to send someone into the city with it by the next train." + +"But, Helen, dear--" + +"Now please do not ask me anything about it," went on the girl, +impatiently. "I have told you that you must let me manage this +affair myself. If you will not send it I shall simply have to get +someone to take it. He must have it, and have it at once." + +"Will it not do to mail it, Helen?" + +"No, because I wish him to get it this morning." And Helen put the +letter into her aunt's hands, while the latter gazed helplessly, +first at it, and then at the girl. There is an essay of Bacon's in +which is set forth the truth that you can bewilder and master anyone +if you are only sufficiently bold and rapid; Mrs. Roberts was so +used to managing everything and being looked up to by everyone that +Helen's present mood left her quite dazed. + +Nor did the girl give her any time to recover her presence of mind. +"There is only one thing more," she said, "I want you to have +breakfast as soon as you can, and then to let me have a carriage at +once." + +"A carriage?" echoed the other. + +"Yes, Aunt Polly, I wish to drive over to Hilltown immediately." + +"To Hilltown!" gasped Aunt Polly with yet greater consternation, and +showing signs of resistance at last; "pray what--" + +But Helen only came again to the attack, with yet more audacity and +confidence. "Yes," she said, "to Hilltown; I mean to go to see +Arthur." + +For answer to that last statement, poor Mrs. Roberts had simply no +words whatever; she could only gaze, and in the meantime, Helen was +going calmly on with her dressing, as if the matter were settled. + +"Will Mr. Howard be down to breakfast?" she asked. + +"As he is going away to-day, I presume he will be down," was the +reply, after which Helen quickly completed her toilet, her aunt +standing by and watching her in the meantime. + +"Helen, dear," she asked at last, after having recovered her +faculties a trifle, "do you really mean that you will not explain to +me a thing of what has happened, or of what you are doing?" + +"There is so much, Aunt Polly, that I cannot possibly explain it +now; I have too much else to think of. You must simply let me go my +way, and I will tell you afterwards." + +"But, Helen, is that the right way to treat me? Is it nothing to +you, all the interest that I have taken in this and all that I have +done for you, that you should think so little of my advice?" + +"I do not need any advice now," was the answer. "Aunt Polly, I see +exactly what I should do, and I do not mean to stop a minute for +anything else until I have done it. If it seems unkind, I am very +sorry, but in the meantime it must be done." + +And while she was saying the words, Helen was putting on her hat; +then taking up her parasol and gloves she turned towards her aunt. +"I am ready now," she said, "and please let me have breakfast just +as soon as you can." + +The girl was so much preoccupied with her own thoughts and purposes +that she scarcely even heard what her aunt said; she went down into +the garden where she could be alone, and paced up and down +impatiently until she heard the bell. Then she went up into the +dining room, where she found her aunt and uncle in conversation with +Mr. Howard. + +Helen had long been preparing herself to meet him, but she could not +keep her cheeks from flushing or keep from lowering her eyes; she +bit her lips together, however, and forced herself to look at him, +saying very resolutely, "Mr. Howard, I have to drive over to +Hilltown after breakfast, and I wish very much to talk to you about +something; would you like to drive with me?" + +"Very much indeed," said he, quietly, after which Helen said not a +word more. She saw that her aunt and uncle were gazing at her and at +each other in silent wonder, but she paid no attention to it. After +eating a few hurried mouthfuls she excused herself, and rose and +went outside, where she saw the driving-cart which had been bought +for her use, waiting for her. It was not much longer before Mr. +Howard was ready, for he saw her agitation. + +"It is rather a strange hour to start upon a drive," she said to +him, "but I have real cause for hurrying; I will explain about it." +And then she stopped, as her aunt came out to join them. + +It was only a moment more before Mr. Howard had excused himself, and +the two were in the wagon, Helen taking the reins. She waved a +farewell to her aunt and then started the horse, and they were +whirled swiftly away down the road. + +All the morning Helen's mind had been filled with things that she +wished to say to Mr. Howard. But now all her resolution seemed to +have left her, and she was trembling very much, and staring straight +ahead, busying herself with guiding the horse. When they were out +upon the main road where they might go as fast as they pleased +without that necessity, she swallowed the lump in her throat and +made one or two nervous attempts to speak. + +Mr. Howard in the meantime had been gazing in front of him +thoughtfully. "Miss Davis," he said suddenly, turning his eyes upon +her, "may I ask you a question?" + +"Yes," said Helen faintly. + +"You heard all that I said about you last night?" + +And Helen turned very red and looked away. "Yes, I heard it all," +she said; and then there was a long silence. + +It was broken by the man, who began in a low voice: "I scarcely know +how, Miss Davis, I can apologize to you--" + +And then he stopped short, for the girl had turned her glance upon +him, wonderingly. "Apologize?" she said; she had never once thought +of that view of it, and the word took her by surprise. + +"Yes," said Mr. Howard; "I said so many hard and cruel things that I +cannot bear to think of them." + +Helen still kept her eyes fixed upon him, as she said, "Did you say +anything that was not true, Mr. Howard?" + +The man hesitated a moment, and then he answered: "I said many +things that I had no right to say to you." + +"That is not it," said Helen simply. "Did you say anything that was +not true?" + +Again Mr. Howard paused. "I am quite sure that I did," he said at +last. "Most of what I said I feel to have been untrue since I have +seen how it affected you." + +"Because it made me so ashamed?" said Helen. And then some of the +thoughts that possessed her forced their way out, and she hurried on +impetuously: "That was the first thing I wanted to tell you. It is +really true that you were wrong, for I am not hard-hearted at all. +It was something that my--that people were making me do, and all the +time I was wretched. It was dreadful, I know, but I was tempted, +because I do love beautiful things. And it was all so sudden, and I +could not realize it, and I had nobody to advise me, for none of the +people I meet would think it was wrong. You must talk to me and help +me, because I've got to be very strong; my aunt will be angry, and +when I get back perhaps Mr. Harrison will be there, and I shall have +to tell him." + +Then the girl stopped, out of breath and trembling with excitement; +Mr. Howard turned abruptly and fixed his dark eyes upon her. + +"Tell him," he said. "Tell him what?" + +"That I shall not marry him, of course," answered Helen; the other +gave a start, but she was so eager that she did not even notice it. +"I could not lose a minute," she said. "For it was so very dreadful, +you know." + +"And you really mean not to marry him?" asked the other. + +"Mean it!" echoed the girl, opening her eyes very wide. "Why, how in +the world could you suppose--" And then she stopped short, and +laughed nervously. "Of course," she said, "I forgot; you might +suppose anything. But, oh, if I could tell you how I have suffered, +Mr. Howard, you would understand that I could never have such a +thought again in the world. Please do understand me, for if I had +really been so base I should not come to you as I do after what I +heard. I cannot tell you how dreadfully I suffered while I was +listening, but after I had cried so much about it, I felt better, +and it seemed to me that it was the best thing that could have +happened to me, just to see my actions as they seemed to someone +else,--to someone who was good. I saw all at once the truth of what +I was doing, and it was agony to me to know that you thought so of +me. That was why I could not rest last night until I had told you +that I was really unhappy; for it was something that I was unhappy, +wasn't it, Mr. Howard?" + +"Yes," said the other, "it was very much indeed." + +"And oh, I want you to know the truth," Helen went on swiftly. +"Perhaps it is just egotism on my part, and I have really no right +to tell you all about myself in this way; and perhaps you will scorn +me when you come to know the whole truth. But I cannot help telling +you about it, so that you may advise me what to do; I was all +helpless and lost, and what you said came last night like a +wonderful light. And I don't care what you think about me if you +will only tell me the real truth, in just the same way that you did; +for I realized afterwards that it was that which had helped me so. +It was the first time in my life that it had ever happened to me; +when you meet people in the world, they only say things that they +know will please you, and that does you no good. I never realized +before how a person might go through the world and really never meet +with another heart in all his life; and that one can be fearfully +lonely, even in a parlor full of people. Did you ever think of that, +Mr. Howard?" + +Mr. Howard had fixed his keen eyes upon the girl as she went +breathlessly on; she was very pale, and the sorrow through which she +had passed had left, "I have been so cold and wicked, that +you will soon scorn me altogether." + +"I do not think that is possible," said her companion, gently, as he +saw the girl choking back a sob. + +"Well, listen then," Helen began; but then she stopped again. "Do +you wish me to tell you?" she asked. "Do you care anything about it +at all, or does it seem--" + +"I care very much about it, indeed," the other answered. + +"However dreadful it may seem," said Helen. "Oh, please know that +while I have been doing it, it has made me utterly wretched, and +that I am so frightened now that I can scarcely talk to you; and +that if there is anything that I can do--oh, absolutely anything--I +will do it!" Then the girl bit her lips together and went on with +desperate haste, "It's what you said about what would happen if +there were someone else to love me, and to see how very bad I was!" + +"There is some such person?" asked the man, in a low voice. + +"Yes," said she. "It is someone I have known as long as I can +remember. And he loves me very much indeed, I think; and while I was +letting myself be tempted in this way he was very sick, and because +I knew I was so bad I did not dare go near him; and yesterday when +he heard I was going to marry this man, it almost killed him, and I +do not know what to fear now." + +Then, punishing herself very bravely and swallowing all her bitter +shame, Helen went on to tell Mr. Howard of Arthur, and of her +friendship with him, and of how long he had waited for her; she +narrated in a few words how he had left her, and then how she had +seen him upon the road. Afterwards she stopped and sat very still, +trembling, and with her eyes lowered, quite forgetting that she was +driving. + +"Miss Davis," said the other, gently, seeing how she was suffering, +"if you wish my advice about this, I should not worry myself too +much; it is better, I find in my own soul's life, to save most of +the time that one spends upon remorse, and devote it to action." + +"To action?" asked Helen. + +"Yes," said the other. "You have been very thoughtless, but you may +hope that nothing irrevocable has happened; and when you have seen +your friend and told him the truth just as you have told it to me, I +fancy it will bring him joy enough to compensate him for what he has +suffered." + +"That was what I meant to do," the girl went on. "But I have been +terrified by all sorts of fancies, and when I remember how much pain +I caused him, I scarcely dare think of speaking to him. When I saw +him by the roadside, Mr. Howard, he seemed to me to look exactly +like you, there was such dreadful suffering written in his face." + +"A man who lives as you have told me your friend has lived," said +the other, "has usually a very great power of suffering; such a man +builds for himself an ideal which gives him all his joy and his +power, and makes his life a very glorious thing; but when anything +happens to destroy his vision or to keep him from seeking it, he +suffers with the same intensity that he rejoiced before. The great +hunger that was once the source of his power only tears him to +pieces then, as steam wrecks a broken engine." + +"It's very dreadful," Helen said, "how thoughtless I was all along. +I only knew that he loved me very much, and that it was a vexation +to me." + +Mr. Howard glanced at her. "You do not love him?" he asked. + +"No," said Helen, quickly. "If I had loved him, I could never have +had a thought of all these other things. But I had no wish to love +anybody; it was more of my selfishness." + +"Perhaps not," the other replied gently. "Some day you may come to +love him, Miss Davis." + +"I do not know," Helen said. "Arthur was very impatient." + +"When a man is swift and eager in all his life," said Mr. Howard, +smiling, "he cannot well be otherwise in his love. Such devotion +ought to be very precious to a woman, for such hearts are not easy +to find in the world." + +Helen had turned and was gazing anxiously at Mr. Howard as he spoke +to her thus. "You really think," she said, "that I should learn to +appreciate Arthur's love?" + +"I cannot know much about him from the little you have told me," was +the other's answer. "But it seems to me that it is there you might +find the best chance to become the unselfish woman that you wish to +be." + +"It is very strange," the girl responded, wonderingly, "how +differently you think about it. I should have supposed I was acting +very unwisely indeed if I loved Arthur; everyone would have told me +of his poverty and obscurity, and of how I must give up my social +career." + +"I think differently, perhaps," Mr. Howard said, "because I have +lived so much alone. I have come to know that happiness is a thing +of one's own heart, and not of externals; the questions I should ask +about a marriage would not be of wealth and position. If you really +wish to seek the precious things of the soul, I should think you +would be very glad to prove it by some sacrifice; and I know that +two hearts are brought closer, and all the memories of life made +dearer, by some such trial in the early days. People sneer at love +in a cottage, but I am sure that love that could wish to live +anywhere else is not love. And as to the social career, a person who +has once come to know the life of the heart soon ceases to care for +any kind of life that is heartless; a social career is certainly +that, and in comparison very vulgar indeed." + +Helen looked a little puzzled, and repeated the word "vulgar" +inquiringly. Mr Howard smiled. + +"That is the word I always use when I am talking about high life," +he said, laughing. "You may hurl the words 'selfish' and 'worldly' +at it all you please, and never reach a vital spot; but the word +'vulgar' goes straight to the heart." + +"You must explain to me why it is that," said Helen, with so much +seriousness that the other could not help smiling again. + +"Perhaps I cannot make anyone else see the thing as I do," was his +reply. "And yet it seems rery simple. When a man lives a while in +his own soul, he becomes aware of the existence of a certain +spiritual fact which gives life all its dignity and meaning; he +learns that this sacred thing demands to be sought for, and +worshiped; and that the man who honors it and seeks it is only +hailed as gentleman, and aristocrat, and that he who does not honor +it and seek it is vulgar, tho he be heir of a hundred earls, and +leader of all society, and lord of millions. Every day that one +lives in this presence that I speak of, he discovers a little more +how sacred a thing is true nobility, and how impertinent is the +standard that values men for the wealth they win, or for the ribbons +they wear, or for anything else in the world. I fancy that you, if +you came once to love your friend, would find it very easy to do +without the admiration of those who go to make up society; they +would come to seem to you very trivial and empty people, and +afterwards, perhaps, even very cruel and base." + +Mr. Howard stopped; but then seeing that Helen was gazing at him +inquiringly once more he added, gravely, "One could be well content +to let vain people strut their little hour and be as wonderful as +they chose, if it were not for the painful fact that they are eating +the bread of honest men, and that millions are toiling and starving +in order that they may have ease and luxury. That is such a very +dreadful thing to know that sometimes one can think of nothing else, +and it drives him quite mad." + +The girl sat very still after that, trembling a little in her heart; +finally she asked, her voice shaking slightly, "Mr. Howard, what can +one do about such things?" + +"Very little," was the reply, "for they must always be; but at least +one can keep his own life earnest and true. A woman who felt such +things very keenly might be an inspiration to a man who was called +upon to battle with selfishness and evil." + +"You are thinking of Arthur once more?" asked the girl. + +"Yes," answered the other, with a slight smile. "It would be a happy +memory for me, to know that I have been able to give you such an +ideal. Some of these days, you see, I am hoping that we shall again +have a poet with a conviction and a voice, so that men may know that +sympathy and love are things as real as money. I am quite sure there +never was a nation so ridiculously sodden as our own just at +present; all of our maxims and ways of life are as if we were the +queer little Niebelung creatures that dig for treasure in the bowels +of the earth, and see no farther than the ends of their shovels; we +live in the City of God, and spend all our time scraping the gold of +the pavements. Your uncle told me this morning that he did not see +why a boy should go to college when he can get a higher salary if he +spends the four years in business. I find that there is nothing to +do but to run away and live alone, if one wants really to believe +that man is a spiritual nature, with an infinite possibility of +wonder and love; and that the one business of his life is to develop +that nature by contact with things about him; and that every act of +narrow selfishness he commits is a veil which he ties about his own +eyes, and that when he has tied enough of them, not all the pearl +and gold of the gorgeous East can make him less a pitiable wretch." + +Mr. Howard stopped again, and smiled slightly; Helen sat gazing +thoughtfully ahead, thinking about his way of looking at life, and +how very strange her own actions seemed in the light of it. +Suddenly, however, because throughout all the conversation there had +been another thought in her consciousness, she glanced ahead and +urged the horse even faster. She saw far in the distance the houses +of the place to which she was bound, and she said nothing more, her +companion also becoming silent as he perceived her agitation. + +Helen had been constantly growing more anxious, so that now the +carriage could not travel fast enough; it seemed to her that +everything depended upon what she might find at Hilltown. It was +only the thought of Arthur that kept her from feeling completely +free from her wretchedness; she felt that she might remedy all the +wrong that she had done, and win once more the prize of a good +conscience, provided only that nothing irretrievable had happened to +him. Now as she came nearer she found herself imagining more and +more what might have happened, and becoming more and more impatient. +There was a balance dangling before her eyes, with utter happiness +on one side and utter misery on the other; the issue depended upon +what she discovered at Hilltown. + +The two sat in silence, both thinking of the same thing, as they +whirled past the place where Helen had seen Arthur before. The girl +trembled as she glanced at it, for all of the previous day's +suffering rose before her again, and made her fears still more real +and importunate. She forced herself to look, however, half thinking +that she might see Arthur again; but that did not happen, and in a +minute or two more the carriage had come to the house where he +lived. She gave the reins to Mr. Howard, and sprang quickly out; she +rang the bell, and then stood for a minute, twitching her fingers, +and waiting. + +The woman who kept the house, and whom Helen knew personally, opened +the door; the visitor stepped in and gasped out breathlessly, "Where +is Arthur?" Her hands shook visibly as she waited for the reply. + +"He is not in, Miss Davis," the woman answered. + +"Where is he?" Helen cried. + +"I do not know," was the response. "He has gone." + +"Gone!" And the girl started back, catching at her heart. "Gone +where?" + +"I do not know, Miss Davis." + +"But what--" began the other. + +"This will tell you all I know," said the woman, as she fumbled in +her apron, and put a scrap of crumpled paper into Helen's trembling +hands. + +The girl seized it and glanced at it; then she staggered back +against the wall, ghastly pale and almost sinking. The note, in +Arthur's hand, but so unsteady as to be almost illegible, ran thus: +"You will find in this my board for the past week; I am compelled to +leave Hilltown, and I shall not ever return." + +And that was all. Helen stared at it and stared again, and then let +it fall and gazed about her, echoing, in a hollow voice, "And I +shall not ever return!" + +"That is all I can tell you about it," went on the woman. "I have +not seen him since Elizabeth was here yesterday morning; he came +back late last night and packed his bag and went away." + +Helen sank down upon a chair and buried her face in her hands, quite +overwhelmed by the suddenness of that discovery. She remained thus +for a long time, without either sound or motion, and the woman stood +watching her, knowing full well what was the matter. When Helen +looked up again there was agony written upon her countenance. "Oh, +are you sure you have no idea where I can find him?" she moaned. + +"No, Miss Davis," said the woman. "I was asounded when I got this +note." + +"But someone must know, oh, surely they must! Someone must have seen +him,--or he must have told someone!" + +"I think it likely that he took care not to," was the reply. + +The thought was a death-knell to Helen's last hope, and she sank +down, quite overcome; she knew that Arthur could have had but one +motive in acting as he had,--that he meant to cut himself off +entirely from all his old life and surroundings. He had no friends +in Hilltown, and having lived all alone, it would be possible for +him to do it. Helen remembered Mr. Howard's saying of the night +before, how the sight of her baseness might wreck a man's life +forever, and the more she thought of that, the more it made her +tremble. It seemed almost more than she could bear to see this +fearful consequence of her sin, and to know that it had become a +fact of the outer world, and gone beyond her power. It seemed quite +too cruel that she should have such a thing on her conscience, and +have it there forever; most maddening of all was the thought that it +had depended upon a few hours of time. + +"Oh, how can I have waited!" she moaned. "I should have come last +night, I should have stopped the carriage when I saw him! Oh, it is +not possible!" + +Perhaps there are no more tragic words in human speech than "Too +late." Helen felt just then as if the right even to repentance were +taken from her life. It was her first introduction to that fearful +thing of which Mr. Howard had told her upon their first meeting; in +the deep loneliness of her own heart Helen was face to face just +then with FATE. She shrank back in terror, and she struggled +frantically, but she felt its grip of steel about her wrist; and +while she sat there with her face hidden, she was learning to gaze +into its eyes, and front their fiery terror. When she looked up +again her face was very white and pitiful to see, and she rose from +her chair and went toward the door so unsteadily that the woman put +her arm about her. + +"You will tell me," she gasped faintly--"you will tell me if you +hear anything?" + +"Yes," said the other gently, "I will." + +So Helen crept into the carriage again, looking so full of +wretchedness that her companion knew that the worst must have +happened, and took the reins and silently drove towards home, while +the girl sat perfectly still. They were fully half way home before +she could find a word in which to tell him of her misery. "I shall +never be happy in my life again!" she whispered. "Oh, Mr. Howard, +never in my life!" + +When the man gazed at her, he was frightened to see how grief and +fear had taken possession of her face; and yet there was no word +that he could say to soothe her, and no hope that he could give her. +When the drive was ended, she stole silently up to her room, to be +alone with her misery once more. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + "Thou majestic in thy sadness." + +Upon the present occasion there was no violent demonstration of +emotion to alarm the Roberts household, for Helen's grief was not of +the kind to vent itself in a passionate outburst and pass away. To +be sure, she wept a little, but the thoughts which haunted her were +not of a kind to be forgotten, and afterwards she was as wretched as +ever. What she had done seemed to her so dreadful that even tears +were not right, and she felt that she ought only to sit still and +think of it, and be frightened; it seemed to her just then as if she +would have to do the same thing for the rest of her days. She spent +several hours in her room without once moving, and without being +disturbed, for her aunt was sufficiently annoyed at her morning's +reception not to visit her again. The lunch hour passed, therefore, +unthought of by Helen, and it was an hour or two later before she +heard her aunt's step in the hall, and her knock upon the door. + +Mrs. Roberts entered and stood in the center of the room, gazing at +Helen, and at the look of helpless despair which she turned towards +her; the woman's own lips were set very tightly. + +"Well?" she said abruptly, "have you had your wish, and are you +happy?" + +Helen did not answer, nor did she half realize the question, so lost +was she in her own misery. She sat gazing at her aunt, while the +latter went on: "You have had your way in one thing, at any rate, +Helen; Mr. Harrison is downstairs to see you." + +The girl gave a slight start, but then she answered quietly: "Thank +you, Auntie; I shall go down and see him." + +"Helen," said Mrs. Roberts, "do you still refuse to tell me anything +of what I ask you?" + +Helen was quite too much humbled to wish to oppose anyone just then; +and she answered mournfully, "What is it that you wish?" + +"I wish to know in the first place why you wanted to see Mr. +Harrison." + +"I wanted to see him to tell him that I could not marry him, Aunt +Polly." + +And Mrs. Roberts sat down opposite Helen and fixed her gaze upon +her. "I knew that was it," she said grimly. "Now, Helen, what in the +world has come over you to make you behave in this fashion?" + +"Oh, it is so much to tell you," began the girl; "I don't know--" + +"What did you find at Hilltown?" went on her aunt persistently. "Did +you see Arthur?" + +"No, Aunt Polly, that is what is the matter; he has gone." + +"Gone! Gone where?" + +"Away, Aunt Polly! Nobody saw him go, and he left a note saying that +he would never return. And I am so frightened--" + +Mrs. Roberts was gazing at her niece with a puzzled look upon her +face. She interrupted her by echoing the word "frightened" +inquiringly. + +"Yes, Auntie!" cried the girl; "for I may never be able to find him +again, to undo what I have done!" + +And Mrs. Roberts responded with a wondering laugh, and observed, +"For my part, I should think you'd be very glad to be rid of him +so." + +She saw Helen give a start, but she could not read the girl's mind, +and did not know how much she had done to estrange her by those +words. It was as if Helen's whole soul had shrunk back in horror, +and she sat staring at her aunt with open eyes. + +"I suppose you think," the other went on grimly, "that I am going to +share all this wonderful sentimentality with you about that boy; but +I assure you that you don't know me! He may get you to weep over him +because he chooses to behave like a fool, but not me." + +Helen was still for a moment, and then she said, in an awe-stricken +voice: "Aunt Polly, I have wrecked Arthur's life!" Mrs. Roberts +responded with a loud guffaw, which was to the other so offensive +that it was like a blow in the face. + +"Wrecked his life!" the woman cried scornfully. "Helen, you talk +like a baby! Can't you know in the first place that Arthur is doing +all this high-tragedy acting for nothing in the world but to +frighten you? Wrecked his life! And there you were, I suppose, all +ready to get down on your knees to him, and beg his pardon for +daring to be engaged, and to promise to come to his attic and live +off bread and water, if he would only be good and not run away!" + +Mrs. Roberts' voice was bitter and mocking, and her words seemed to +Helen almost blasphemy; it had never occurred to her that such grief +as hers would not be sacred to anyone. Yet there was no thought of +anger in her mind just then, for she had been chastened in a fiery +furnace, and was too full of penitence and humility for even that +much egotism. She only bowed her head, and said, in a trembling +voice: "Oh, Aunt Polly, I would stay in an attic and live off bread +and water for the rest of my days, if I could only clear my +conscience of the dreadful thing I have done." + +"A beautiful sentiment indeed!" said Mrs. Roberts, with a sniff of +disgust; and she stood surveying her niece in silence for a minute +or two. Then smothering her feelings a little, she asked her in a +quieter voice, "And so, Helen, you are really going to fling aside +the life opportunity that is yours for such nonsense as this? There +is no other reason?" + +"There is another reason, Aunt Polly," said Helen; "it is so +dreadful of you to ask me in that way. How CAN you have expected me +to marry a man just because he was rich?" + +"Oh," said the other, "so that is it! And pray what put the idea +into your head so suddenly?" She paused a moment, and then, as the +girl did not raise her head, she went on, sarcastically, "I fancy I +know pretty well where you got all of these wonderful new ideas; you +have not been talking with Mr. Howard for nothing, I see." + +"No, not for nothing," said Helen gently. + +"A nice state of affairs!" continued the other angrily; "I knew +pretty well that his head was full of nonsense, but when I asked him +here I thought at least that he would know enough about good manners +to mind his own affairs. So he has been talking to you, has he? And +now you cannot possibly marry a rich man!" + +Mrs. Roberts stopped, quite too angry to find any more words; but as +she sat for a minute or two, gazing at Helen, it must have occurred +to her that she would not accomplish anything in that way. She made +an effort to swallow her emotions. + +"Helen, dear," she said, sitting down near her niece, "why will you +worry me in this dreadful way, and make me speak so crossly to you? +I cannot tell you, Helen, what a torment it is to me to see you +throwing yourself away in this fashion; I implore you to stop and +think before you take this step, for as sure as you are alive you +will regret it all your days. Just think of it how you will feel, +and how I will feel, when you look back at the happiness you might +have had, and know that it is too late! And, Helen, it is due to +nothing in the world but to your inexperience that you have let +yourself be carried away by these sublimities. You MUST know, child, +and you can see if you choose, that they have nothing to do with +life; they will not butter your bread, Helen, or pay your coachman, +and when you get over all this excitement, you will find that what I +tell you is true. Look about you in the world, and where can you +find anybody who lives according to such ideas?" + +"What ideas do you mean, Aunt Polly?" asked Helen, with a puzzled +look. + +"Oh, don't you suppose," answered the other, "that I know perfectly +well what kind of stuff it is that Mr. Howard has talked to you? I +used to hear all that kind of thing when I was young, and I believed +some of it, too,--about how beautiful it was to marry for love, and +to have a fine scorn of wealth and all the rest of it; but it wasn't +very long before I found out that such opinions were of no use in +the world." + +"Then you don't believe in love, Aunt Polly?" asked Helen, fixing +her eyes on the other. + +"What's the use of asking such an absurd question?" was the answer. +"Of course I believe in love; I wanted you to love Mr. Harrison, and +you might have, if you had chosen. I learned to love Mr. Roberts; +naturally, a couple have to love each other, or how would they ever +live happily together? But what has that to do with this ridiculous +talk of Mr. Howard's? As if two people had nothing else to do in the +world but to love each other! It's all very well, Helen, for a man +who chooses to live like Robinson Crusoe to talk such nonsense, but +he ought not to put it in the mind of a sentimental girl. He would +very soon find, if he came out into life, that the world isn't run +by love, and that people need a good many other things to keep them +happy in it. You ought to have sense enough to see that you've got +to live a different sort of a life, and that Mr. Howard knows +nothing in the world about your needs. I don't go alone and live in +visions, and make myself imaginary lives, Helen; I look at the world +as it is. You will have to learn some day that the real way to find +happiness is to take things as you find them, and get the best out +of life you can. I never had one-tenth of your advantages, and yet +there aren't many people in the world better off than I am; and you +could be just as happy, if you would only take my advice about it. +What I am talking to you is common sense, Helen, and anybody that +you choose to ask will tell you the same thing." + +So Mrs. Roberts went on, quite fairly under way in her usual course +of argument, and rousing all her faculties for this last struggle. +She was as convinced as ever of the completeness of her own views, +and of the effect which they must have upon Helen; perhaps it was +not her fault that she did not know to what another person she was +talking. + +In truth, it would not be easy to tell how great a difference there +was in the effect of those old arguments upon Helen; while she had +been sitting in her room alone and suffering so very keenly, the +girl had been, though she did not know it, very near indeed to the +sacred truths of life, and now as she listened to her aunt, she was +simply holding her breath. The climax came suddenly, for as the +other stopped, Helen leaned forward in her chair, and gazing deep +into her eyes asked her, "Aunt Polly, can it really be that you do +not know that what you have been saying to me is dreadfully +_wicked_?" + +There was perhaps nothing that the girl could have done to take her +complacent relative more by surprise; Mrs. Roberts sat for a moment, +echoing the last word, and staring as if not quite able to realize +what Helen meant. As the truth came to her she turned quite pale. + +"It seems to me," she said with a sneer, "that I remember a time +when it didn't seem quite so wicked to you. If I am not mistaken you +were quite glad to do all that I told you, and to get as much as +ever you could." + +Helen was quite used to that taunt in her own heart, and to the pain +that it brought her, so she only lowered her eyes and said nothing. +In the meantime Mrs. Roberts was going on in her sarcastic tone: + +"Wicked indeed!" she ejaculated, "and I suppose all that I have been +doing for you was wicked too! I suppose it was wicked of me to watch +over your education all these years as I have, and to plan your +future as if you were my own child, so that you might amount to +something in the world; and it was wicked of me to take all the +trouble that I have for your happiness, and wicked of Mr. Roberts to +go to all the trouble about the trousseau that he has! The only +right and virtuous thing about it all is the conduct of our niece +who causes us to do it all, and who promises herself to a man and +lets him go to all the trouble that he has, and then gets her head +full of sanctimonious notions and begins to preach about wickedness +to her elders!" + +Helen had nothing to reply to those bitter words, for it was only +too easy just then to make her accuse herself of anything. She sat +meekly suffering, and thinking that the other was quite justified in +all her anger. Mrs. Roberts was, of course, quite incapable of +appreciating her mood, and continued to pour out her sarcasm, and to +grow more and more bitter. To tell the truth, the worthy matron had +not been half so unselfish in her hopes about Helen as she liked to +pretend, and she showed then that like most people of the world who +are perfectly good-natured on the surface, she could display no +little ugliness when thwarted in her ambitions and offended in her +pride. + +It was not possible, however, for her to find a word that could seem +to Helen unjust, so much was the girl already humbled. It was only +after her aunt had ceased to direct her taunts at her, and turned +her spite upon Mr. Howard and his superior ideas, that it seemed to +Helen that it was not helping her to hear any more; then she rose +and said, very gently, "Aunt Polly, I am sorry that you feel so +about me, and I wish that I could explain to you better what I am +doing. I know that what I did at first was all wrong, but that is no +reason why I should leave it wrong forever. I think now that I ought +to go and talk to Mr. Harrison, who is waiting for me, and after +that I want you to please send me home, because father will be there +to-day, and I want to tell him about how dreadfully I have treated +Arthur, and beg him to forgive me." + +Then, without waiting for any reply, the girl left the room and went +slowly down the steps. The sorrow that possessed her lay so deep +upon her heart that everything else seemed trivial in comparison, +and she had put aside and forgotten the whole scene with her aunt +before she had reached the parlor where Mr. Harrison was waiting; +she did not stop to compose herself or to think what to say, but +went quickly into the room. + +Mr. Harrison, who was standing by the window, turned when he heard +her; she answered his greeting kindly, and then sat down and +remained very still for a moment or two, gazing at her hands in her +lap. At last she raised her eyes to him, and asked: "Mr. Harrison, +did you receive the letter I wrote you?" + +"Yes," the other answered quickly, "I did. I cannot tell you how +much pain it caused me. And, Helen--or must I call you Miss Davis?" + +"You may call me Helen," said the girl simply. "I was very sorry to +cause you pain," she added, "but there was nothing else that I could +do." + +"At least," the other responded, "I hope that you will not refuse to +explain to me why this step is necessary?" + +"No, Mr. Harrison," said Helen, "it is right that I should tell you +all, no matter how hard it is to me to do it. It is all because of a +great wrong that I have done; I know that when I have told you, you +will think very badly of me indeed, but I have no right to do +anything except to speak the truth." + +She said that in a very low voice, not allowing her eyes to drop, +and wearing upon her face the look of sadness which seemed now to +belong to it always. Mr. Harrison gazed at her anxiously, and said: +"You seem to have been ill, Helen." + +"I have been very unhappy, Mr. Harrison," she answered, "and I do +not believe I can ever be otherwise again. Did you not notice that I +was unhappy?" + +"I never thought of it until yesterday," the other replied. + +"Until the drive," said Helen; "that was the climax of it. I must +tell you the reason why I was so frightened then,--that I have a +friend who was as dear to me as if he were my brother, and he loved +me very much, very much more than I deserve to be loved by anyone; +and when I was engaged to you he was very ill, and because I knew I +was doing so wrong I did not dare to go and see him. That was why I +was afraid to pass through Hilltown. The reason I was so frightened +afterwards is that I caught a glimpse of him, and he was in such a +dreadful way. This morning I found that he had left his home and +gone away, no one knows where, so that I fear I shall never see him +again." + +Helen paused, and the other, who had sat down and was leaning +forward anxiously, asked her, "Then it is this friend that you +love?" + +"No," the girl replied, "it is not that; I do not love anybody." + +"But then I do not understand," went on Mr. Harrison, with a puzzled +look. "You spoke of its having been so wrong; was it not your right +to wish to marry me?" + +And Helen, punishing herself as she had learned so bravely to do, +did not lower her eyes even then; she flushed somewhat, however, as +she answered: "Mr. Harrison, do you know WHY I wished to marry you?" + +The other started a trifle, and looked very much at a loss indeed. +"Why?" he echoed. "No, I do not know--that is--I never thought--" + +"It hurts me more than I can tell you to have to say this to you," +Helen said, "for you were right and true in your feeling. But did +you think that I was that, Mr. Harrison? Did you think that I really +loved you?" + +Probably the good man had never been more embarrassed in his life +than he was just then. The truth to be told, he was perfectly well +aware why Helen had wished to marry him, and had been all along, +without seeing anything in that for which to dislike her; he was +quite without an answer to her present question, and could only +cough and stammer, and reach for his handkerchief. The girl went on +quickly, without waiting very long for his reply. + +"I owe it to you to tell you the truth," she said, "and then it will +no longer cause you pain to give me up. For I did not love you at +all, Mr. Harrison; but I loved all that you offered me, and I +allowed myself to be tempted thus, to promise to marry you. Ever +afterwards I was quite wretched, because I knew that I was doing +something wicked, and yet I never had the courage to stop. So it +went on until my punishment came yesterday. I have suffered +fearfully since that." + +Helen had said all that there was to be said, and she stopped and +took a deep breath of relief. There was a minute or two of silence, +after which Mr. Harrison asked: "And you really think that it was so +wrong to promise to marry me for the happiness that I could offer +you?" + +Helen gazed at him in surprise as she echoed, "Was it so wrong?" And +at the same moment even while she was speaking, a memory flashed +across her mind, the memory of what had occurred at Fairview the +last time she had been there with Mr. Harrison. A deep, burning +blush mantled her face, and her eyes dropped, and she trembled +visibly. It was a better response to the other's question than any +words could have been, and because in spite of his contact with the +world he was still in his heart a gentleman, he understood and +changed color himself and looked away, feeling perhaps more rebuked +and humbled than he had ever felt in his life before. + +So they sat thus for several minutes without speaking a word, or +looking at each other, each doing penance in his own heart. At last, +in a very low voice, the man said, "Helen, I do not know just how I +can ever apologize to you." + +The girl answered quietly: "I could not let you apologize to me, Mr. +Harrison, for I never once thought that you had done anything +wrong." + +"I have done very wrong indeed," he answered, his voice trembling, +"for I do not think that I had any right even to ask you to marry +me. You make me feel suddenly how very coarse a world I have lived +in, and how much lower than yours all my ways of thinking are. You +look surprised that I say that," he added, as he saw that the girl +was about to interrupt him, "but you do not know much about the +world. Do you suppose that there are many women in society who would +hesitate to marry me for my money?" + +"I do not know," said Helen, slowly; "but, Mr. Harrison, you could +certainly never be happy with a woman who would do that." + +"I do not think now that I should," the man replied, earnestly, "but +I did not feel that way before. I did not have much else to offer, +Helen, for money is all that a man like me ever tries to get in the +world." + +"It is so very wrong, Mr. Harrison," put in the other, quickly. +"When people live in that way they come to lose sight of all that is +right and beautiful in life; and it is all so selfish and wicked!" +(Those were words which might have made Mr. Howard smile a trifle +had he been there to hear them; but Helen was too much in earnest to +think about being original.) + +"I know," said Mr. Harrison, "and I used to believe in such things; +but one never meets anyone else that does, and it is so easy to live +differently. When you spoke to me as you did just now, you made me +seem a very poor kind of a person indeed." + +The man paused, and Helen sat gazing at him with a worried look upon +her face. "It was not that which I meant to do," she began, but then +she stopped; and after a long silence, Mr. Harrison took up the +conversation again, speaking in a low, earnest voice. + +"Helen," he said, "you have made me see that I am quite unworthy to +ask for your regard,--that I have really nothing fit to offer you. +But I might have one thing that you could appreciate,--for I could +worship, really worship, such a woman as you; and I could do +everything that I could think of to make myself worthy of you,--even +if it meant the changing of all my ways of life. Do you not suppose +that you could quite forget that I was a rich man, Helen, and still +let me be devoted to you?" + +There was a look in Mr. Harrison's eyes as he gazed at her just then +which made him seem to her a different sort of a man,--as indeed he +was. She answered very gently. "Mr. Harrison," she said, "it would +be a great happiness to me to know that anyone felt so about me. But +I could never marry you; I do not love you." + +"And you do not think," asked the other, "that you could ever come +to love me, no matter how long I might wait?" + +"I do not think so," Helen said in a low voice. "I wish that you +would not ever think of me so." + +"It is very easy to say that," the man answered, pleadingly, "but +how am I to do it? For everything that I have seems cheap compared +with the thought of you. Why should I go on with the life I have +been leading, heaping up wealth that I do not know how to use, and +that makes me no better and no happier? I thought of you as a new +motive for going on, Helen, and you must know that a man cannot so +easily change his feelings. For I really loved you, and I do love +you still, and I think that I always must love you." + +Helen's own suffering had made her alive to other people's feelings, +and the tone of voice in which he spoke those words moved her very +much. She leaned over and laid her hand upon his,--something which +she would not have thought she could ever do. + +"Mr. Harrison," she said, "I cannot tell you how much it hurts me to +have you speak to me so, for it makes me see more than ever how +cruelly unfeeling I have been, and how much I have wronged you. It +was for that I wished to beg you to forgive me, to forgive me just +out of the goodness of your heart, for I cannot offer any excuse for +what I did. It makes me quite wretched to have to say that, and to +know that others are suffering because of my selfishness; if I had +any thought of the sacredness of the beauty God has given me, I +would never have let you think of me as you did, and caused you the +pain that I have. But you must forgive me, Mr. Harrison, and help +me, for to think of your being unhappy about me also would be really +more than I could bear. Sometimes when I think of the one great +sorrow that I have already upon my conscience, I feel that I do not +know what I am to do; and you must go away and forget about me, for +my sake if not for your own. I really cannot love anyone; I do not +think that I am fit to love anyone; I only do not want to make +anyone else unhappy." + +And Helen stopped again, and pressed her hand upon Mr. Harrison's +imploringly. He sat gazing at her in silence for a minute, and then +he said, slowly: "When you put it so, it is very hard for me to say +anything more. If you are only sure that that is your final +word--that there is really no chance that you could ever love me,--" + +"I am perfectly sure of it," the girl answered; "and because I know +how cruel it sounds, it is harder for me to say than for you to +hear. But it is really the truth, Mr. Harrison. I do not think that +you ought to see me again until you are sure that it will not make +you unhappy." + +The man sat for a moment after that, with his head bowed, and then +he bit his lip very hard and rose from his chair. "You can never +know," he said, "how lonely it makes a man feel to hear words like +those." But he took Helen's hand in his and held it for an instant, +and then added: "I shall do as you ask me. Good-by." And he let her +hand fall and went to the door. There he stopped to gaze once again +for a moment, and then turned and disappeared, closing the door +behind him. + +Helen was left seated in the chair, where she remained for several +minutes, leaning forward with her head in her hands, and gazing +steadily in front of her, thinking very grave thoughts. She rose at +last, however, and brushed back the hair from her forehead, and went +slowly towards the door. It would have seemed lack of feeling to +her, had she thought of it, but even before she had reached the +stairs the scene through which she had just passed was gone from her +mind entirely, and she was saying to herself, "If I could only know +where Arthur is this afternoon!" + +Her mind was still full of that thought when she entered the room, +where she found her aunt seated just as she had left her, and in no +more pleasant humor than before. + +"You have told him, I suppose?" she inquired. + +"Yes," Helen said, "I have told him, Aunt Polly." + +"And now you are happy, I suppose!" + +"No, indeed, I am very far from that," said Helen, and she went to +the window; she stood there, gazing out, but with her thoughts +equally far away from the scene outside as from Mrs. Roberts' +warnings and sarcasms. The latter had gone on for several minutes +before her niece turned suddenly. "Excuse me for interrupting you, +Aunt Polly," she said; "but I want to know whether Mr. Howard has +gone yet." + +"His train goes in an hour or so," said Mrs. Roberts, not very +graciously. + +"I think I will see if he is downstairs," Helen responded; "I wish +to speak to him before he goes." And so she descended and found Mr. +Howard seated alone upon the piazza. + +Taking a seat beside him, she said, "I did not thank you when I left +you in the carriage, Mr. Howard, for having been so kind to me; but +I was so wrapped up in my worry--" + +"I understood perfectly," put in the other. "I saw that you felt too +keenly about your discovery to have anything to say to me." + +"I feel no less keenly about it now," said Helen; "but I could not +let you go away until I had spoken to you." She gazed very earnestly +at him as she continued: "I have to tell you how much you have done +for me, and how I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart. I +simply cannot say how much all that you have shown me has meant to +me; I should have cared for nothing but to have you tell me what it +would be right for me to do with my life,--if only it had not been +for this dreadful misfortune of Arthur's, which makes it seem as if +it would be wicked for me to think about anything." + +Mr. Howard sat gazing in front of him for a moment, and then he said +gently, "What if the change that you speak of were to be +accomplished, Miss Davis, without your ever thinking about it? For +what is it that makes the difference between being thoughtless and +selfish, and being noble and good, if it be not simply to walk +reverently in God's great temple of life, and to think with sorrow +of one's own self? Believe me, my dear friend, the best men that +have lived on earth have seen no more cause to be pleased with +themselves than you." + +"That may be true, Mr. Howard," said Helen, sadly, "but it can do me +no good to know it. It does not make what happens to Arthur a bit +less dreadful to think of." + +"It is the most painful fact about all our wrong," the other +answered, "that no amount of repentance can ever alter the +consequences. But, Miss Davis, that is a guilt which all creation +carries on its shoulders; it is what is symbolized in the Fall of +Man--that he has to realize that he might have had infinite beauty +and joy for his portion, if only the soul within him had never +weakened and failed. Let me tell you that he is a lucky man who can +look back at all his life and see no more shameful guilt than yours, +and no consequence worse than yours can be." As Mr. Howard spoke he +saw a startled look cross the girl's face, and he added, "Do not +suppose that I am saying that to comfort you, for it is really the +truth. It oftens happens too, that the natures that are strongest +and most ardent in their search for righteousness have the worst +sins to remember." + +Helen did not answer for several moments, for the thought was +strange to her; then suddenly she gazed at the other very earnestly +and said: "Mr. Howard, you are a man who lives for what is beautiful +and high,--suppose that YOU had to carry all through your life the +burden of such guilt as mine?" + +The man's voice was trembling slightly as he answered her: "It is +not hard for me to suppose that, Miss Davis; I HAVE such a burden to +carry." As he raised his eyes he saw a still more wondering look +upon her countenance. + +"But the consequences!" she exclaimed. "Surely, Mr. Howard, you +could not bear to live if you knew--" + +"I have never known the consequences," said the man, as she stopped +abruptly; "just as you may never know them; but this I know, that +yours could not be so dreadful as mine must be. I know also that I +am far more to blame for them than you." + +Helen could not have told what caused the emotion which made her +shudder so just then as she gazed into Mr. Howard's dark eyes. Her +voice was almost a whisper as she said, "And yet you are GOOD!" + +"I am good," said the man gently, "with all the goodness that any +man can claim, the goodness of trying to be better. You may be that +also." + +Helen sat for a long time in silence after that, wondering at what +was passing in her own mind; it was as if she had caught a sudden +glimpse into a great vista of life. She had always before thought of +this man's suffering as having been physical; and the deep movement +of sympathy and awe which stirred her now was one step farther from +her own self-absorption, and one step nearer to the suffering that +is the heart of things. + +But Helen had to keep that thought and dwell upon it in solitude; +there was no chance for her to talk with Mr. Howard any more, for +she heard her aunt's step in the hall behind her. She had only time +to say, "I am going home myself this afternoon; will you come there +to see me, Mr. Howard? I cannot tell you how much pleasure it would +give me." + +"There is nothing I should like to do more," the man answered; "I +hope to keep your friendship. When would you like me to come?" + +"Any time that you can," replied Helen. "Come soon, for I know how +unhappy I shall be." + +That was practically the last word she said to Mr. Howard, for her +aunt joined them, and after that the conversation was formal. It was +not very long before the carriage came for him, and Helen pressed +his hand gratefully at parting, and stood leaning against a pillar +of the porch, shading her eyes from the sun while she watched the +carriage depart. Then she sat down to wait for it to return from the +depot for her, which it did before long; and so she bid farewell to +her aunt. + +It was a great relief to Helen; and while we know not what emotions +it may cause to the reader, it is perhaps well to say that he may +likewise pay his last respects to the worthy matron, who will not +take part in the humble events of which the rest of our story must +be composed. + +For Helen was going home, home to the poor little parsonage of +Oakdale! She was going with a feeling of relief in her heart second +only to her sorow; the more she had come to feel how shallow and +false was the splendor that had allured her, the more she had found +herself drawn to her old home, with its memories that were so dear +and so beautiful. She felt that there she might at least think of +Arthur all that she chose, and meet with nothing to affront her +grief; and also she found herself thinking of her father's love with +a new kind of hunger. + +When she arrived, she found Mr. Davis waiting for her with a very +anxious look upon his countenance; he had stopped at Hilltown on his +way, and learned about Arthur's disappearance, and then heard from +Elizabeth what she knew about Helen's engagement. The girl flung +herself into his arms, and afterwards, quite overcome by the +emotions that surged up within her, sank down upon her knees before +him and sobbed out the whole story, her heart bursting with sorrow +and contrition; as he lifted her up and kissed her and whispered his +beautiful words of pardon and comfort, Helen found it a real +homecoming indeed. + +Mr. Davis was also able to calm her worry a little by telling her +that he did not think it possible that Arthur would keep his +whereabouts secret from him very long. "When I find him, dear +child," he said, "it will all be well again, for we will believe in +love, you and I, and not care what the great world says about it. I +think I could be well content that you should marry our dear +Arthur." + +"But, father, I do not love him," put in Helen faintly. + +"That may come in time," said the other, kissing her tenderly, and +smiling. "There is no need to talk of it, for you are too young to +marry, anyway. And in the meantime we must find him." + +There was a long silence after that. Helen sat down on the sofa +beside her father and put her arms about him and leaned her head +upon his bosom, drinking in deep drafts of his pardon and love. She +told him about Mr. Howard, and of the words of counsel which he had +given her, and how he was coming to see her again. Afterwards the +conversation came back to Arthur and his love for Helen, and then +Mr. Davis went on to add something that caused Helen to open her +eyes very wide and gaze at him in wonder. + +"There is still another reason for wishing to find him soon," he +said, "for something else has happened to-day that he ought to know +about." + +"What is it?" asked Helen. + +"I don't know that I ought to tell you about it just now," said the +other, "for it is a very sad story. But someone was here to see +Arthur this morning--someone whom I never expected to see again in +all my life." + +"To see Arthur?" echoed the girl in perplexity. "Who could want to +see Arthur?" As her father went on she gave a great start. + +"It was his mother," said Mr. Davis. + +And Helen stared at him, gasping for breath as she echoed the words, +"His mother!" + +"You may well be astonished," said the clergyman. "But the woman +proved beyond doubt that she was really the person who left Arthur +with me." + +"You did not recognize her?" + +"No, Helen; for it has been twenty-one or two years since I saw her, +and she has changed very much since then. But she told me that in +all that time she has never once lost sight of her boy, and has been +watching all that he did." + +"Where has she been?" + +"She did not tell me," the other answered, "but I fancy in New York. +The poor woman has lived a very dreadful life, a life of such +wretched wickedness that we cannot even talk about it; I think I +never heard of more cruel suffering. I was glad that you were not +here to see her, or know about it until after she was gone; she said +that she had come to see Arthur once, because she was going away to +die." + +"To die!" exclaimed the girl, in horror. + +"Yes," said Mr. Davis, "to die; she looked as if she could not live +many days longer. I begged her to let me see that she was provided +for, but she said that she was going to find her way back to her old +home, somewhere far off in the country, and she would hear of +nothing else. She would not tell the name of the place, nor her own +name, but she left a letter for Arthur, and begged me to find him +and give it to him, so that he might come and speak to her once if +he cared to do so. She begged me to forgive her for the trouble she +had caused me, and to pray that God would forgive her too; and then +she bade me farewell and dragged herself away." + +Mr. Davis stopped, and Helen sat for a long time staring ahead of +her, with a very frightened look in her eyes, and thinking, "Oh, we +MUST find Arthur!" Then she turned to her father, her lips trembling +and her countenance very pale. "Tell me," she said, in a low, +awe-stricken voice, "a long time ago someone must have wronged that +woman." + +"Yes, dear," said Mr. Davis, "when she was not even as old as you +are. And the man who wronged her was worth millions of dollars, +Helen, and could have saved her from all her suffering with a few of +them if he cared to. No one but God knows his name, for the woman +would not tell it." + +Helen sat for a moment or two staring at him wildly; and then +suddenly she buried her head in his bosom and burst into tears, +sobbing so cruelly that her father was sorry he had told her what he +had. He knew why that story moved her so, and it wrung his heart to +think of it,--that this child of his had put upon her own shoulders +some of that burden of the guilt of things, and must suffer beneath +it, perhaps for the rest of her days. + +When Helen gazed up at him again there was the old frightened look +upon her face, and all his attempts to comfort her were useless. +"No, no!" she whispered. "No, father! I cannot even think of peace +again, until we have found Arthur!" + + Freundliches Voglein! + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + "A fugitive and gracious light he seeks, + Shy to illumine; and I seek it too. + This does not come with houses or with gold, + With place, with honor, and a flattering crew; + 'Tis not in the world's market bought and sold." + +Three days passed by after Helen had returned to her father, during +which the girl stayed by herself most of the time. When the breaking +off of her engagement was known, many of her old friends came to see +her, but the hints that they dropped did not move her to any +confidences; she felt that it would not be possible for her to find +among them any understanding of her present moods. Her old life, or +rather the life to which she had been looking forward, seemed to her +quite empty and shallow, and there was nothing useful that she knew +of to do except to offer to help her father in such ways as she +could. She drew back into her own heart, giving most of her time to +thinking about Mr. Howard and Arthur, and no one but her father knew +why it was that she was so subdued and silent. + +It was only on the third morning, when there came a letter from Mr. +Howard saying that he was coming out that afternoon to see her, that +Helen seemed to be interested and stirred again. She went to the +window more than once to look for him; and when at last her friend +had arrived, and the two were seated in the parlor, she said to him +without waiting for any circumstance, "I have been wishing very much +to see you, Mr. Howard, because there is something I am anxious to +talk to you about, if you will let me." + +"I am sorry to say that it is about myself," she went on, when the +other had expressed his willingness to hear her, "for I want to ask +you to help me, and to give me some advice. I ought to have asked +you the questions I am going to before this, but the last time I saw +you I could think about nothing but Arthur. They only came to me +after you had gone." + +"What are they?" asked the man. + +"You must knew, Mr. Howard," said Helen, "that it is you who have +shown me the wrongness of all that I was doing in my life, and +stirred me with a desire to do better. I find now that such thoughts +have always been so far from me that the wish to be right is all +that I have, and I do not know at all what to do. It seemed to me +that I would rather talk to you about it than to anyone, even my own +father. I do not know whether that is just right, but you do not +mind my asking you, do you?" + +"It is my wish to help you in every way that I can," was the gentle +response. + +"I will tell you what I have been thinking," said Helen. "I have +been so unhappy in the last three days that I have done nothing at +all; but it seemed to me somehow that it must be wrong of me to let +go of myself in that way--as if I had no right to pamper myself and +indulge my own feelings. It was not that I wished to forget what +wrong things I have done, or keep from suffering because of them; +yet it seemed to me that the fact that I was wretched and frightened +was no excuse for my doing no good for the rest of my life. When I +have thought about my duty before, it has always been my +school-girl's task of studying and practicing music, but that is not +at all what I want now, for I cannot bear to think of such things +while the memory of Arthur is in my mind. I need something that is +not for myself, Mr. Howard, and I find myself thinking that it +should be something that I do not like to do." + +Helen paused for a moment, gazing at the other anxiously; and then +she went on: "You must know that what is really behind what I am +saying is what you said that evening in the arbor, about the kind of +woman I ought to be because God has made me beautiful. My heart is +full of a great hunger to be set right, and to get a clearer sight +of the things that are truly good in life. I want you to talk to me +about your own ideals, and what you do to keep your life deep and +true; and then to tell me what you would do in my place. I promise +you that no matter how hard it may be I shall feel that just what +you tell me to do is my duty, and at least I shall never be happy +again until I have done it. Do you understand how I feel, Mr. +Howard?" + +"Yes," the man answered, in a quiet voice, "I understand you +perfectly." And then as he paused, watching the girl from beneath +his dark brows, Helen asked, "You do not mind talking to me about +yourself?" + +"When a man lives all alone and as self-centered as I," the other +replied, smiling, "it is fatally easy for him to do that; he may +blend himself with his ideals in such a curious way that he never +talks about anything else. But if you will excuse that, I will tell +you what I can." + +"Tell me why it is that you live so much alone," said the girl. "Is +it that you do not care for friends?" + +"It is very difficult for a man who feels about life as I do to find +many friends," he responded. "If one strives to dwell in deep +things, and is very keen and earnest about it, he is apt to find +very little to help him outside of himself; perhaps it is because I +have met very few persons in my life, but it has not happened to me +to find anyone who thinks about it as I do, or who cares to live it +with my strenuousness. I have met musicians, some who labored very +hard at their art, but none who felt it a duty to labor with their +own souls, to make them beautiful and strong; and I have met +literary men and scholars, but they were all interested in books, +and were willing to be learned, and to classify and plod; I have +never found one who was swift and eager, and full of high impatience +for what is real and the best. There should come times to a man, I +think, when he feels that books are an impertinence, when he knows +that he has only the long-delayed battle with his own heart to +fight, and the prize of its joy to win. When such moods come upon +him he sees that he has to live his life upon his knees, and it is +rarely indeed that he knows of anyone who can follow him and share +in his labor. So it is that I have had to live all my life by +myself, Miss Davis." + +"You have always done that?" Helen asked, as he stopped. + +"Yes," he answered, "or for very many years. I have a little house +on the wildest of lakes up in the mountains, wyhere I play the +hermit in the summer, and where I should have been now if it had not +been that I yielded to your aunt's invitation. When I spoke of +having no friends I forgot the things of Nature, which really do +sympathize with an artist's life; I find that they never fail to +become full of meaning whenever my own spirit shakes off its bonds. +It has always been a belief of mine that there is nothing that +Nature makes that is quite so dull and unfeeling as man,--with the +exception of children and lovers, I had much rather play my violin +for the flowers and the trees." + +"You like to play it out of doors?" Helen asked, with a sudden +smile. + +"Yes," laughed the other, "that is one of my privileges as a hermit. +It seems quite natural to the wild things, for they have all a music +of their own, a wonderful, silent music that the best musicians +cannot catch; do you not believe that, Miss Davis?" + +"Yes," Helen said, and sat gazing at her companion silently for a +minute. "I should think a life of such effort would be very hard," +she said finally. "Do you not ever fail?" + +"I do not do much else," he replied with a sad smile, "and get up +and stumble on. The mastership of one's heart is the ideal, you +know; and after all one's own life cannot be anything but struggle +and failure, for the power he is trying to conquer is infinite. When +I find my life very hard I do not complain, but know that the reason +for it is that I have chosen to have it real, and that the essence +of the soul is its effort. I think that is a very important thing to +feel about life, Miss Davis." + +"That is why I do not wish to be idle," said Helen. + +"It is just because people do not know this fact about the soul," +the other continued, "and are not willing to dare and suffer, and +overcome dullness, and keep their spiritual faculties free, that +they sink down as they grow older, and become what they call +practical, and talk very wisely about experience. It is only when +God sends into the world a man of genius that no mountains of earth +can crush, and who keeps his faith and sweetness all through his +life that we learn the baseness of the thought that experience +necessarily brings cynicism and selfishness. There is to me in all +this world nothing more hateful than this disillusioned worldliness, +and nothing makes me angrier than to see it taking the name of +wisdom. If I were a man with an art, there is nothing, I think, that +I should feel more called to make war upon; it is a very blow in the +face of God. Nothing makes me sadder than to see the life that such +people live,--to see for instance how pathetic are the things they +call their entertainments; and when one knows himself that life is a +magic potion, to be drank with rapture and awe,--that every instance +of it ought to be a hymn of rejoicing, and the whole of it rich and +full of power, like some majestic symphony. I often find myself +wishing that there were some way of saving the time that people +spend in their pleasures; + + "'Life piled on life + Were all too little, and of one to me + Little remains.' + +As I kneel before God's altar of the heart I know that if I had +infinite time and infinite energy there would be beauty and joy +still to seek, and so as I look about me in the world and see all +the sin and misery that is in it, it is my comfort to know that the +reason for it is that men are still living the lives of the animals, +and have not even dreamed of the life that belongs to them as men. +That is something about which I feel very strongly myself,--that is +part of my duty as a man who seeks worship and rightness to mark +that difference in my own life quite plainly." + +Mr. Howard paused for a moment, and Helen said very earnestly, "I +wish that you would tell me about that." + +"I consider it my duty," the other replied, "to keep all the +external circumstances of my life as simple and as humble as I +should have to if I were quite poor. If I were not physically +unable, I should feel that I ought to do for my own self all that I +needed to have done, for I think that if it is necessary that others +should be degraded to menial service in order that my soul might be +beautiful and true, then life is bad at the heart of it, and I want +none of its truth and beauty. I do not have to look into my heart +very long, Miss Davis, to discover that what I am seeking in life is +something that no millions of money can buy me; and when I am face +to face with the sternness of what I call that spiritual fact, I see +that fine houses and all the rest are a foolish kind of toy, and +wonder that any man should think that he can please me by giving the +labor of his soul to making them. It is much the same thing as I +feel, for instance, when I go to hear a master of music, and find +that he has spent his hours in torturing himself and his fingers in +order to give me an acrobatic exhibition, when all the time what I +wish him to do, and what his genius gave him power to do, was to +find the magic word that should set free the slumbering demon of my +soul. So I think that a man who wishes to grow by sympathy and +worship should do without wealth, if only because it is so trivial; +but of course I have left unmentioned what is the great reason for a +self-denying life, the reason that lies at the heart of the matter, +and that includes all the others in it,--that he who lives by prayer +and joy makes all men richer, but he who takes more than his bare +necessity of the wealth of the body must know that he robs his +brother when he does it. The things of the soul are everywhere, but +wealth stands for the toil and suffering of human beings, and +thousands must starve and die so that one rich man may live at ease. +That is no fine rhetoric that I am indulging in, but a very deep and +earnest conviction of my soul; first of all facts of morality stands +the law that the life of man is labor, and that he who chooses to +live otherwise is a dastard. He may chase the phantom of happiness +all his days and not find it, and yet never guess the reason,--that +joy is a melody of the heart, and that he is playing upon an +instrument that is out of tune. Few people choose to think of that +at all, but I cannot afford ever to forget it, for my task is to +live the artist's life, to dwell close to the heart of things; it is +something that I simply cannot understand how any man who pretends +to do that can know of the suffering and starving that is in the +world, and can feel that he who has God's temple of the soul for his +dwelling, has right to more of the pleasures of earth than the +plainest food and shelter and what tools of his art he requires. If +it is otherwise it can only be because he is no artist at all, no +lover of life, but only a tradesman under another name, using God's +high gift to get for himself what he can, and thinking of his +sympathy and feeling as things that he puts on when he goes to work, +and when he is sure that they will cost him no trouble." + +Mr. Howard had been speaking very slowly, and in a deep and earnest +voice; he paused for a moment, and then added with a slight smile, +"I have been answering your question without thinking about it, Miss +Davis, for I have told you all that there is to tell about my life." + +Helen did not answer, but sat for a long time gazing at him and +thinking very deeply; then she said to him, her voice shaking +slightly: "You have answered only half of my question, Mr. Howard; I +want you to tell me what a woman can do to bring those high things +into her life--to keep her soul humble and strong. I do not think +that I have your courage and self-reliance." + +The man's voice dropped lower as he answered her, "Suppose that you +were to find this friend of yours that knows you so well, and loves +you so truly; do you not think that there might be a chance for you +to win this prize of life that I speak of?" Helen did not reply, but +sat with her eyes still fixed upon the other's countenance; as he +went on, his deep, musical voice held them there by a spell. + +"Miss Davis," he said, "a man does not live very long in the kingdom +of the soul before there comes to be one thing that he loves more +than anything else that life can offer; that thing is love. For love +is the great gateway into the spiritual life, the stage of life's +journey when human beings are unselfish and true to their hearts, if +ever the power of unselfishness and truth lies in them. As for man, +he has many battles to fight and much of himself to kill before the +great prizes of the soul can be his--but the true woman has but one +glory and one duty in life, and sacredness and beauty are hers by +the free gift of God. If she be a true woman, when her one great +passion takes its hold upon her it carries all her being with it, +and she gives herself and all that she has. Because I believe in +unselfishness and know that love is the essence of things, I find in +all the world nothing more beautiful than that, and think that she +has no other task in life, except to see that the self which she +gives is her best and Inghest, and to hold to the thought of the +sacredness of what she is doing. For love is the soul's great act of +worship, and the heart's great awakening to life. If the man be +selfish and a seeker of pleasure, what I say of love and woman is +not for him; but if he be one who seeks to worship, to rouse the +soul within him to its vision of the beauty and preciousness of +life, then he must know that this is the great chance that Nature +gives him, that no effort of his own will ever carry him so far +towards what he seeks. The woman who gives herself to him he takes +for his own with awe and trembling, knowing that the glory which he +reads in her eyes is the very presence of the spirit of life; and +because she stands for this precious thing to him he seeks her love +more than anything else upon earth, feeling that if he has it he has +everything, and if he has it not, he has nothing. He cherishes the +woman as before he cherished what was best in his own soul; he +chooses all fair and noble actions that may bring him still more of +her love; all else that life has for him he lays as an offering at +the shrine of her heart, all his joy and all his care, and asks but +love in return; and because the giving of love is the woman's joy +and the perfectness of her sacrifice, her glory, they come to forget +themselves in each other's being, and to live their lives in each +other's hearts. The joy that each cares for is no longer his own +joy, but the other's; and so they come to stand for the sacredness +of God to each other, and for perpetual inspiration. By and by, +perhaps, from long dwelling out of themselves and feeding their +hearts upon things spiritual, they learn the deep and mystic +religion of love, that is the last lesson life has to teach; it is +given to no man to know what is the source of this mysterious being +of ours, but men who come near to it find it so glorious that they +die for it in joy; and the least glimpse of it gives a man quite a +new feeling about a human heart. So at last it happens that the +lovers read a fearful wonder in each other's eyes, and give each +other royal greeting, no longer for what they are, but for that +which they would like to be. They come to worship together as they +could never have worshiped apart; and always that which they worship +and that in which they dwell, is what all existence is seeking with +so much pain, the sacred presence of wonder that some call Truth, +and some Beauty,--but all Love. When you ask me how unselfishness is +to be made yours in life, that is the answer which I give you." + +Mr. Howard's voice had dropped very low; as he stopped Helen was +trembling within herself. She was drinking still more from the +bottomless cup of her humiliation and remorse, for she was still +haunted by the specter of what she had done. The man went on after +an interval of silence. + +"I think there is no one," he said, "whom these things touch more +than the man who would live the life of art that I have talked of +before; for the artist seeks experience above all things, seeks it +not only for himself but for his race. And it must come from his own +heart; no one can drive him to his task. All artists tell that the +great source of their power is love; and the wisest of them makes of +his love an art-work, as he makes an art-work of his life. He counts +his power of loving most sacred of all his powers, and guards it +from harm as he guards his life itself; he gives all his soul to the +dreaming of that dream, and lays all his prayer before it; and when +he meets with the maiden who will honor such effort, he forgets +everything else in his life, and gives her all his heart, and +studies to 'worship her by years of noble deeds.' For a woman who +loves love, the heart of such a man is a lifetime's treasure; for +his passion is of the soul, and does not die; and all that he has +done has been really but a training of himself for that great +consecration. If he be a true artist, all his days have been spent +in learning to wrestle with himself, to rouse himself and master his +own heart; until at last his very being has become a prayer, and his +soul like a great storm of wind that sweeps everything away in its +arms. Perhaps that hunger has possessed him so that he never even +wakens in the dead of night without finding it with him in all its +strength; it rouses him in the morning with a song, and when +midnight comes and he is weary, it is a benediction and a hand upon +his brow. All the time, because he has a man's heart and knows of +his life's great glory, his longing turns to a dream of love, to a +vision of the flying perfect for which all his life is a search. +There is a maiden who dwells in all the music that he hears, and who +calls to him in the sunrise, and flings wide the flowers upon the +meadows; she treads before him on the moonlit waters and strews them +with showers of fire. If his soul be only strong enough, perhaps he +waits long years for that perfect woman, that woman who loves not +herself, but loves love; and all the time the yearning of his heart +is growing, so that those who gaze at him wonder why his eyes are +dark and sunken. He knows that his heart is a treasure-house which +he himself cannot explore, and that in all the world he seeks +nothing but some woman before whom he might fling wide its doors." + +Helen had been leaning on the table, holding her hands in front of +her; towards the end they were trembling so much that she took them +away and clasped them in her lap. When he ceased her eyes were +lowered; she could not see how his were fixed upon her, but she knew +that her bosom was heaving painfully, and that there were hot tears +upon her cheeks. He added slowly: "I have told you all that I think +about life, my dear friend, and all that I think about love; so I +think I have told you all that I know." And Helen lifted her eyes to +his and gazed at him through her tears. + +"You tell _me_ of such things?" she asked. "You give such advice to +_me_!" + +"Yes," said the other, gently, "why not to you?" + +"Mr. Howard," Helen answered, "do you not know what I have done, and +how I must feel while I listen to you? It is good that I should hear +such things, because I ought to suffer; but when I asked you for +your advice I wished for something hard and stern to do, before I +dared ever think of love, or feel myself right again." + +Mr. Howard sat watching her for a moment in silence, and then he +answered gently, "I do not think, my dear friend, that it is our +duty as struggling mortals to feel ourselves right at all; I am not +even sure that we ought to care about our rightness in the least. +For God has put high and beautiful things in the world, things that +call for all our attention; and I am sure that we are never so close +to rightness as when we give all our devotion to them and cease +quite utterly to think about ourselves. And besides that, the love +that I speak of is not easy to give, Miss Davis. It is easy to give +up one's self in the first glow of feeling; but to forget one's self +entirely, and one's comfort and happiness in all the little things +of life; to consecrate one's self and all that one has to a lifetime +of patience and self-abnegation; and to seek no reward and ask for +no happiness but love,--do you not think that such things would cost +one pain and bring a good conscience at last?" + +Helen's voice was very low as she answered, "Perhaps, at last." Then +she sat very still, and finally raised her deep, earnest eyes and +leaned forward and gazed straight into her companion's. "Mr. +Howard," she said, "you must know that YOU are my conscience; and it +is the memory of your words that causes me all my suffering. And now +tell me one thing; suppose I were to say to you that I could beg +upon my knees for a chance to earn such a life as that; and suppose +I should ever come really to love someone, and should give up +everything to win such a treasure, do you think that I could clear +my soul from what I have done, and win rightness for mine? Do you +think that you--that YOU could ever forget that I was the woman who +had wished to sell her love for money?" + +Mr. Howard answered softly, "Yes, I think so." + +"But are you sure of it?" Helen asked; and when she had received the +same reply she drew a long breath, and a wonderful expression of +relief came upon her face; all her being seemed to rise,--as if all +in an instant she had flung away the burden of shame and fear that +had been crushing her soul. She sat gazing at the other with a +strange look in her eyes, and then she sank down and buried her head +in her arms upon the table. + +And fully a minute passed thus without a sound. Helen was just +lifting her head again, and Mr. Howard was about to speak, when an +unexpected interruption caused him to stop. The front door was +opened, and as Helen turned with a start the servant came and stood +in the doorway. + +"What is it, Elizabeth?" Helen asked in a faint voice. + +"I have just been to the post office," the woman answered; "here is +a letter for you." + +"Very well," Helen answered; "give it to me." + +And she took it and put it on the table in front of her. Then she +waited until the servant was gone, and in the meantime, half +mechanically, turned her eyes upon the envelope. Suddenly the man +saw her give a violent start and turn very pale; she snatched up the +letter and sprang to her feet, and stood supporting herself by the +chair, her hand shaking, and her breath coming in gasps. + +"What is it?" Mr. Howard cried. + +Helen's voice was hoarse and choking as she answered him: "It is +from Arthur!" As he started and half rose from his chair the girl +tore open the letter and unfolded the contents, glancing at it once +very swiftly, her eyes flying from line to line; the next instant +she let it fall to the floor with a cry and clutched with her hands +at her bosom. She tried to speak, but she was choking with her +emotion; only her companion saw that her face was transfigured with +delight; and then suddenly she sank down upon the sofa beside her, +her form shaken with hysterical laughter and sobbing. + +Mr. Howard had risen from his chair in wonder; but before he could +take a step toward her he heard someone in the hall, and Mr. Davis +rushed into the room. "Helen, Helen!" he exclaimed, "what is the +matter?" and sank down upon his knees beside her; the girl raised +her head and then flung herself into his arms, exclaining +incoherently: "Oh, Daddy, I am free! Oh, oh--can you believe it--I +am free!" + +Long after her first ecstasy had passed Helen still lay with her +head buried in her father's bosom, trembling and weeping and +repeating half as if in a dream that last wonderful word, "Free!" +Meanwhile Mr. Davis had bent down and picked up the paper to glance +over it. + +Most certainly Arthur would have wondered had he seen the effect of +that letter upon Helen; for he wrote to her with bitter scorn, and +told her that he had torn his love for her from his heart, and made +himself master of his own life again. He bid her go on in the course +she had chosen, for a day or two had been enough for him to find the +end of her power over him, and of his care for her; and he added +that he wrote to her only that she might not please herself with the +thought of having wrecked him, and that he was going far away to +begin his life again. + +The words brought many emotions to Mr. Davis, and suggested many +doubts; but to Helen they brought but one thought. She still clung +to her father, sobbing like a child and muttering the one word +"Free!" When at last the fit had vented itself and she looked up +again, she seemed to Mr. Howard more like a girl than she ever had +before; and she wiped away her tears laughingly, and smoothed back +her hair, and was wonderfully beautiful in her emotion. She +introduced Mr. Howard to her father, and begged him to excuse her +for her lack of self-control. "I could not help it," she said, "for +oh, I am so happy--so happy!" And she leaned her head upon her +father's shoulder again and gazed up into his face. "Daddy dear," +she said, "and are you not happy too?" + +"My dear," Mr Davis protested, "of course I am glad to hear that +Arthur is himself again. But that is not finding him, and I fear--" + +"Oh, oh, please don't!" Helen cried, the frightened look coming back +upon her face in a flash. "Oh please do not tell me that--no, no! Do +let me be happy just a little while--think of it, how wretched I +have been! And now to know he is safe! Oh, please, Daddy!" And the +tears had welled up in Helen's eyes again. She turned quickly to Mr. +Howard, her voice trembling. "Tell me that I may be happy," she +exclaimed. "You know all about it, Mr. Howard. Is it not right that +I should be happy just a little?" + +As her friend answered her gently that he thought it was, she sat +looking at him for a moment, and then the cloud passed over. She +brushed away her tears, and put her arms about her father again. + +"I cannot help it," she went on, quickly, "I must be happy whether I +want to or not! You must not mind anything I do! For oh, think what +it means to have been so wretched, so crushed and so frightened! I +thought that all my life was to be like that, that I could never +sing again, because Arthur was ruined. Nobody will ever know how I +felt,--how many tears I shed; and now think what it means to be +free--to be free,--oh, free! And to be able to be good once more! I +should go mad if I thought about it!" + +Helen had risen as she spoke, and she spread out her arms and flung +back her head and drank in a deep breath of joy. She began singing, +half to herself; and then as that brought a sudden idea into her +mind she ran to the window and shut it quickly. "I will sing you my +hymn!" she laughed, "_that_ is the way to be happy!" + +And she went to the piano; in a minute more she had begun the chorus +she had sung to Arthur, "Hail thee Joy, from Heaven descending!" The +flood of emotion that was pent up within her poured itself out in +the wild torrent of music, and Helen seemed happy enough to make up +for all the weeks of suffering. As she swept herself on she proved +what she had said,--that she would go mad if she thought much about +her release; and Mr. Howard and her father sat gazing at her in +wonder. When she stopped she was quite exhausted and quite dazed, +and came and buried her head in her father's arms, and sat waiting +until the heaving of her bosom had subsided, and she was calm once +more,--in the meantime murmuring faintly to herself again and again +that she was happy and that she was free. + +When she looked up and brushed away her tangled hair again, perhaps +she thought that her conduct was not very conventional, for she +begged Mr. Howard's pardon once more, promising to be more orderly +by and by. Then she added, laughing, "It is good that you should see +me happy, though, because I have always troubled you with my +egotisms before." She went on talking merrily, until suddenly she +sprang up and said, "I shall have to sing again if I do not run +away, so I am going upstairs to make myself look respectable!" And +with that she danced out of the room, waking the echoes of the house +with her caroling: + + "Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, + Under the blossom that hangs on the bough!" + + Lus-tig im Leid, sing'ich von Lieb-e! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + + "Some one whom I can court + With no great change of manner, + Still holding reason's fort, + Tho waving fancy's banner." + +Several weeks had passed since Helen had received the letter from +Arthur, the girl having in the meantime settled quietly down at +Oakdale She had seen few of her friends excepting Mr. Howard, who +had come out often from the city. + +She was expecting a visit from him one bright afternoon, and was +standing by one of the pillars of the vine-covered porch, gazing up +at the blue sky above her and waiting to hear the whistle of the +train. When she saw her friend from the distance she waved her hand +to him and went to meet him, laughing, "I am going to take you out +to see my stream and my bobolink to-day. You have not seen our +country yet, you know." + +The girl seemed to Mr. Howard more beautiful that afternoon than he +had ever known her before, for she was dressed all in white and +there was the old spring in her step, and the old joy in her heart. +When they had passed out of the village, she found the sky so very +blue, and the clouds so very white, and the woods and meadows so +very green, that she was radiantly happy and feared that she would +have to sing. And she laughed: + + "Away, away from men and towns, + To the wild wood and the downs!" + +And then interrupted herself to say, "You must not care, Mr. Howard, +if I chatter away and do all the talking. It has been a long time +since I have paid a visit to my friends out here, and they will all +be here to welcome me." + +Even as Helen spoke she looked up, and there was the bobolink flying +over her head and pouring out his song; also the merry breeze was +dancing over the meadows, and everything about her was in motion. + +"Do you know," she told her companion, "I think most of the +happiness of my life has been out in these fields; I don't know what +made me so fond of the country, but even when I was a very little +thing, whenever I learned a new song I would come out here and sing +it. Those were times when I had nothing to do but be happy, you +know, and I never thought about anything else. It has always been so +easy for me to be happy, I don't know why. There is a fountain of +joy in my heart that wells up whether I want it to or not, so that I +can always be as merry as I choose. I am afraid that is very +selfish, isn't it, Mr. Howard? I am trying to be right now, you +know." + +"You may consider you are being merry for my sake at present," said +the man with a laugh. "It is not always so easy for me to be +joyful." + +"Very well, then," smiled Helen; "I only wish that you had brought +your violin along. For you see I always think of these things of +Nature with music; when I was little they were all creatures that +danced with me. These winds that are so lively were funny little +fairy-men, and you could see all the flowers shake as they swept +over them; whenever I heard any music that was quick and bright I +always used to fancy that some of them had hold of my hands and were +teaching me to run. I never thought about asking why, but I used to +find that very exciting. And then there was my streamlet--he's just +ahead here past the bushes--and I used to like him best of all. For +he was a very beautiful youth, with a crown of flowers upon his +head; there was a wonderful light in his eyes, and his voice was +very strong and clear, and his step very swift, so it was quite +wonderful when you danced with him. For he was the lord of all the +rest, and everything around you got into motion then; there was +never any stopping, for you know the streamlet always goes faster +and faster, and gets more and more joyous, until you cannot bear it +any more and have to give up. We shall have to play the Kreutzer +Sonata some time, Mr. Howard.' + +"I was thinking of that," said the other, smiling. + +"I think it would be interesting to know what people imagine when +they listen to music," went on Helen. "I have all sorts of queer +fancies for myself; whenever it gets too exciting there is always +one last resource, you can fly away to the top of the nearest +mountain. I don't know just why that is, but perhaps it's because +you can see so much from there, or because there are so many winds; +anyway, there is a dance--a wonderfully thrilling thing, if only the +composer knows how to manage it. There is someone who dances with +me--I never saw his face, but he's always there; and everything +around you is flying fast, and there comes surge after surge of the +music and sweeps you on,--perhaps some of those wild runs on the +violins that are just as if the wind took you up in its arms and +whirled you away in the air! That is a most tremendous experience +when it happens, because then you go quite beside yourself and you +see that all the world is alive and full of power; the great things +of the forest begin to stir too, the trees and the strange shapes in +the clouds, and all the world is suddenly gone mad with motion; and +so by the time you come to the last chords your hands are clenched +and you can hardly breathe, and you feel that all your soul is +throbbing!" + +Helen was getting quite excited then, just over her own enthusiasm; +perhaps it was because the wind was blowing about her. "Is that the +way music does with you?" she laughed, as she stopped. + +"Sometimes," said Mr. Howard, smiling in turn; "but then again while +all my soul is throbbing I feel my neighbor reaching to put on her +wraps, and that brings me down from the mountains so quickly that it +is painful; afterwards you go outside among the cabs and cable-cars, +and make sad discoveries about life." + +"You are a pessimist," said the girl. + +"Possibly," responded the other, "but try to keep your fountain of +joy a while, Miss Davis. There are disagreeable things in life to be +done, and some suffering to be borne, and sometimes the fountain +dries up very quickly indeed." + +Helen was much more ready to look serious than she would have been a +month before; she asked in a different tone, "You think that must +always happen?" + +"Not quite always," was the reply; "there are a few who manage to +keep it, but it means a great deal of effort. Perhaps you never took +your own happiness so seriously," he added with a smile. + +"No," said Helen, "I never made much effort that I know of." + +"Some day perhaps you will have to," replied the other, "and then +you will think of the creatures of nature as I do, not simply as +rejoicing, but as fighting the same battle and daring the same pain +as you." + +The girl thought for a moment, and then asked: "Do you really +believe that as a fact?" + +"I believe something," was the answer, "that makes me think when I +go among men and see their dullness, that Nature is flinging wide +her glory in helpless appeal to them; and that it is a dreadful +accident that they have no eyes and she no voice." He paused for a +moment and then added, smiling, "It would take metaphysics to +explain that; and meanwhile we were talking about your precious +fountain of joy." + +"I should think," answered Helen, thoughtfully, "that it would be +much better to earn one's happiness." + +"Perhaps after you had tried it a while you would not think so," +replied her companion; "that is the artist's life, you know, and in +practice it is generally a very dreadful life. Real effort is very +hard to make; and there is always a new possibility to lure the +artist, so that his life is always restless and a cruel defeat." + +"It is such a life that you have lived, Mr. Howard?" asked Helen, +gazing at him. + +"There are compensations," he replied, smiling slightly, "or there +would be no artists. There comes to each one who persists some hour +of victory, some hour when he catches the tide of his being at the +flood, and when he finds himself master of all that his soul +contains, and takes a kind of fierce delight in sweeping himself on +and in breaking through everything that stands in his way. You made +me think of such things by what you said of your joy in music; only +perhaps the artist discovers that not only the streamlets and the +winds have motion and meaning, but that the planets also have a word +for his soul; and his own being comes suddenly to seem to him a +power which it frightens him to know of, and he sees the genius of +life as a spirit with eyes of flame. It lifts him from his feet and +drags him away, and the task of his soul takes the form of something +that he could cry out to escape. He has fought his way into the +depths of being at last, and lie stands alone in all his littleness +on the shore of an ocean whose waves are centuries--and then even +while he is wondering and full of fear, his power begins to die +within him and to go he knows not how; and when he looks at himself +again he is like a man who has had a dream, and wakened with only +the trembling left; except that he knows it was no dream but a fiery +reality, and that the memory of it will cast a shadow over all the +rest of his days and make them seem trivial and meaningless. No one +knows how many years he may spend in seeking and never find that +lost glory again." + +Mr. Howard had been speaking very intensely, and when he stopped +Helen did not reply at once, but continued gazing at him. "What is +the use of such moments," she asked at last, "if they only make one +wretched?" + +"At least one may keep the memory," he replied with a smile, "and +that gives him a standard of reality. He learns to be humble, and +learns how to judge men and men's glory, and the wonderful things of +men's world,--so that while they are the most self-occupied and +self-delighted creatures living he may see them as dumb cattle that +are grazing while the sunrise is firing the hilltops." + +"You have had such moments yourself?" asked Helen. + +"A long time ago," said the other, smiling at the seriousness with +which she spoke. "When you were telling me about your musical +fancies you made me remember how once when I was young I climbed a +high hill and had an adventure with a wind that was very swift and +eager. At first I recollect I tried not to heed it, because I had +been dull and idle and unhappy; but I found that I could not be very +long in the presence of so much life without being made ashamed, and +that brave windstorm put me through a course of repentance of the +very sternest kind before it let me go. I tried just to promise that +I would be more wide-awake and more true, but it paid not the least +attention to that; and it would hear no arguments as to the +consequences,--it came again and again with a furious burst, and +swept me away every time I tried to think; it declared that I had +been putting off the task of living my life long enough, and that I +was to attend to it then and there. And when I gave myself up as +demanded, it had not the least mercy upon me, and each time that I +protested that I was at the end of my power it simply whirled me +away again like a mad thing. When at last I came down from the +hillside I had quite a new idea of what living meant, and I have +been more respectful before the winds and other people of genius +ever since." + +Helen felt very much at home in that merry phantasy of her +companion's, but she did not say anything; after a moment's waiting +the other went on to tell her of something else that pleased her no +less. "I remember," he said, "how as I came down I chanced upon a +very wonderful sight, one which made an impression upon me that I +have not forgotten. It was a thicket of wild roses; and I have +always dreamed that the wild rose was a creature of the wind and +fire, but I never knew so much about it before. After that day I +have come seriously to believe it would be best if we prudent and +timid creatures, who neither dare nor care anything for the sake of +beauty,--if we simply did not ever see the wild rose. For it lives +only for a day or two, Miss Davis, and yet, as I discovered then, we +may live all our years and never get one such burst of glory, one +such instant of exultation and faith as that. And also I seriously +think that among men and all the wonderful works of men there is +nothing so beautiful and so precious as that little flower that none +of them heeds." + +Mr. Howard glanced at the girl suddenly; she had half stopped in her +walk, and she was gazing at him with a very eager look in her bright +eyes. "What is it?" he asked her, and Helen exclaimed, "Oh, I am so +glad you mentioned it! I had forgotten--actually forgotten!" + +As her friend looked puzzled, the girl went on with her merriest +laugh, "I must tell you all about it, and we shall be happy once +more; for you turn down this path towards the woods, and then you +must go very quietly and hold your breath, and prepare yourself just +as if you were going into a great cathedral; for you want all your +heart to be full of expectation and joy! It is for only about one +week in the year that you may see this great sight, and the +excitement of the first rapture is best of all. It would be so +dreadful if you were not reverent; you must fancy that you are +coming to hear a wonderful musician, and you know that he'll play +for you, but you don't know just when. That's what I used to +pretend, and I used to come every day for a week or two, and very +early in the morning, when the dew was still everywhere and the +winds were still gay. Several times you go back home disappointed, +but that only makes you more eager for the next time; and when you +do find them it is wonderful--oh, most wonderful! For there is a +whole hedge of them along the edge of the wood; and you may be just +as madly happy as you choose and never be half happy enough, because +they are so beautiful!" + +"These are wild roses?" asked the other, smiling. + +"Yes," said Helen, "and oh, think how many days I have forgotten +them, and they may have bloomed! And for three years I have not been +here, and I was thinking about it all the way over on the steamer." +They had come to the path that turned off to the woods, and Helen +led her companion down it, still prattling away in the meantime; +when they came to the edge of the woods she began walking upon tip +toe, and put her fingers upon her lips in fun. Then suddenly she +gave a cry of delight, for there were the roses for a fact, a whole +hedge of them as she had said, glowing in the bright sun and making +a wonderful vision. + +The two stopped and stood gazing at them, the girl's whole soul +dancing within her. "Oh do you know," she cried suddenly, "I think +that I could get drunk with just looking at roses! There is a +strange kind of excitement that comes over one, from drinking in the +sight of their rich red, and their gracefulness and perfume; it +makes all my blood begin to flow faster, and I quite forget +everything else." Helen stood for a few moments longer with her +countenance of joy; afterwards she went towards the flowers and +knelt down in front of them, choosing a bud that was very perfect. +"I always allow myself just one," she said, "just one for love," and +then she bent over it, whispering softly: + + "Hush,'tis the lullaby time is singing, + Hush and heed not, for all things pass." + +She plucked it and held it up before her, while the wind came up +behind her and tossed it about, and tossed her skirts; Helen, +radiant with laughter, glanced at her companion, saying gaily, "You +must hold it very lightly, just like this, you know, with one finger +and a thumb; and then you may toss it before you and lose yourself +in its perfectness, until it makes all your soul feel gracious. Do +you know, Mr. Howard, I think one could not live with the roses very +long without becoming beautiful?" + +"That was what Plato thought," said the other with a smile, "and +many other wise people." + +"I only wish that they might bloom forever," said the girl, "I +should try it." + +Her companion had been lost in watching her, and now as she paused +he said: "Sometimes, I have been happy with the roses, too, Miss +Davis. Here is some music for your flower." She gazed at him +eagerly, and he recited, half laughingly: + + "Wild rose, wild rose, sing me thy song, + Come, let us sing it together!-- + I hear the silver streamlet call + From his home in the dewy heather." + + "Let us sing the wild dance with the mountain breeze, + The rush of the mountain rain, + And the passionate clasp of the glowing sun + When the clouds are rent again." + + "They tell us the time for the song is short, + That the wings of joy are fleet; + But the soul of the rose has bid me sing + That oh, while it lasts 'tis sweet!" + +Afterwards Helen stood for a moment in silence; then a happy idea +came to her mind, and she turned towards the hedge of roses once +more and threw back her head upon the wind and took a deep breath +and began singing a very beautiful melody. + +As it swelled out Helen's joy increased until her face was alight +with laughter, and very wonderful to see; she stood with the rose +tossing in one of her hands, and with the other pressed upon her +bosom,--"singing of summer in full-throated ease." One might have +been sure that the roses knew what she was saying, and that all +about her loved her for her song. + +Yet the girl had just heard that the wings of joy are fleet; and she +was destined to find even then that it was true. For when she +stopped she turned to her companion with a happy smile and said, "Do +you know what that is that I was singing?" When he said "No," she +went on, "It is some wild-rose music that somebody made for me, I +think. It is in the same book as the 'Water Lily' that I played +you." And then in a flash the fearful memory of that evening came +over the girl, and made her start back; for a moment she stood +gazing at her friend, breathing very hard, and then she lowered her +eyes and whispered faintly to herself, "And it was not a month ago!" + +There was a long silence after that, and when Helen looked up again +the joy was gone out of her face, and she was the same frightened +soul as before. Her lips were trembling a little as she said, "Mr. +Howard, I feel somehow that I have no right to be quite happy, for I +have done nothing to make myself good." Then, thinking of her +friend, she added, "I am spoiling your joy in the roses! Can you +forgive me for that?" As he answered that he could, Helen turned +away and said, "Let us go into the woods, because I do not like to +see them any more just now." + +They passed beneath the deep shadows of the trees, and Helen led Mr. +Howard to the spring where she had been with Arthur. She sat down +upon the seat, and then there was a long silence, the girl gazing +steadfastly in front of her; she was thinking of the last time she +had been there, and how it was likely that the pale, wan look must +still be upon Arthur's face. Mr. Howard perhaps divined her thought, +for he watched her for a long time without speaking a word, and then +at last he said gently, as if to divert her attention, "Miss Davis, +I think that you are not the first one whom the sight of the wild +rose has made unhappy." + +Helen turned and looked at him, and he gazed gravely into her eyes. +For at least a minute he said nothing; when he went on his voice was +much changed, and Helen knew not what to expect "Miss Davis," he +said, "God has given to the wild rose a very wonderful power of +beauty and joy; and perhaps the man who looks at it has been +dreaming all his life that somewhere he too might find such precious +things and have them for his own. When he sees the flower there +comes to him the fearful realization that with all the effort of his +soul he has never won the glory which the wild rose wears by +Heaven's free gift; and that perhaps in his loneliness and weakness +he has even forgotten all about such high perfection. So there rises +within him a yearning of all his being to forget his misery and his +struggling, and to lay all his worship and all his care before the +flower that is so sweet; he is afraid of his own sin and his own +baseness, and now suddenly he finds a way of escape,--that he will +live no longer for himself and his own happiness, but that his joy +shall be the rose's joy, and all his life the rose's life. Do you +think, my dear friend, that that might please the flower?" + +"Yes," said Helen wonderingly, "it would be beautiful, if one could +do it." + +The other spoke more gently still as he answered her, his voice +trembling slightly: "And do you not know, Miss Davis, that God has +made _you_ a rose?" + +The girl started visibly; she whispered, "You say that to me, Mr. +Howard? Why do you say that to _me_?" + +And he fixed his dark eyes upon her, his voice very low as he +responded: "I say it to you,--because I love you." + +And Helen shrank back and stared at him; and then as she saw his +look her own dropped lower and lower and the color mounted to her +face. Mr. Howard paused for a moment or two and then very gently +took one of her hands in his, and went on: + +"Helen," he said,--"you must let me call you Helen--listen to me a +while, for I have something to tell you. And since we both of us +love the roses so much, perhaps it will be beautiful to speak of +them still. I want to tell you how the man who loves the flower +needs not to love it for his own sake, but may love it for the +flower's; how one who really worships beauty, worships that which is +not himself, and the more he worships it the less he thinks of +himself. And Helen, you can never know how hard a struggle my life +has been, just to keep before me something to love,--how lonely a +struggle it has been, and how sad. I can only tell you that there +was very little strength left, and very little beauty, and that it +was all I could do to remember there was such a thing as joy in the +world, and that I had once possessed it. The music that moved me and +the music that I made was never your wild-rose singing, but such +yearning, restless music as you heard in the garden. I cannot tell +you how much I have loved that little piece that I played then; +perhaps it is my own sad heart that finds such breathing passion in +it, but I have sent it out into the darkness of many a night, +dreaming that somewhere it might waken an echo. For as long as the +heart beats it never ceases to hunger and to hope, and I felt that +somewhere in the world there must be left some living creature that +was beautiful and pure, and that might be loved. So it was that when +I saw you all my soul was roused within me; you were the fairest of +all God's creatures that I had ever seen. That was why I was so +bitter at first, and that was why all my heart went out to you when +I saw your suffering, and why it is to me the dearest memory of my +lifetime that I was able to help you. Afterwards when I saw how true +you were, I was happier than I had ever dared hope to be again; for +when I went back to my lonely little home, it was no longer to think +about myself and my sorrow and my dullness, but to think about +you,--to rejoice in your salvation, and to pray for you in your +trouble, and to wait for the day when I might see you again. And so +I knew that something had happened to me for which I had yearned, oh +so long and so painfully!--that my heart had been taken from me, +and that I was living in another life; I knew, dear Helen, that I +loved you. I said to myself long ago, before you got Arthur's +letter, that I would wait for the chance to say this to you, to take +your hand in mine and say: Sweet girl, the law of my life has been +that all my soul I must give to the best thing that ever I know; and +that thing is you. You must know that I love you, and how I love +you; that I lay myself at your feet and ask to help you and watch +over you and strengthen you all that I may. For your life is young +and there is much to be hoped for in it, and to my own poor self +there is no longer any duty that I owe. My heart is yours, and I ask +for nothing but that I may love you. Those were the words that I +first meant to say to you, Helen; and to ask you if it pleased you +that I should speak to you thus." + +Mr. Howard stopped, and after he had waited a minute, the girl +raised her eyes to his face. She did not answer him, but she put out +her other hand and laid it very gently in his own. + +There was a long silence before the man continued; at last he said, +"Dear Helen, that was what I wished to say to you, and no more than +that, because I believed that I was old, and that my heart was dying +within me. But oh, when that letter came from Arthur, it was as if I +heard the voice of my soul crying out to me that my life had just +begun, that I had still to love. As I came out here into the forest +with you to-day, my soul was full of a wondrous thought, a thought +that brought more awe and rapture than words have power to tell; it +was that this precious maiden was not made to be happy alone, but +that some day she and all her being would go out to someone, to +someone who could win her heart, who could love her and worship her +as she deserved. And my soul cried out to me that _I_ could worship +you; the thought wakened in me a wilder music than ever I had heard +in my life before. Here as I kneel before you and hold your hands in +mine, dear Helen, all my being cries out to you to come to me; for +in your sorrow your heart has been laid bare to my sight, and I have +seen only sweetness and truth. To keep it, and serve it, and feed it +upon thoughts of beauty, would be all that I could care for in life; +and the thought of winning you for mine, so that all your life I +might cherish you, is to me a joy which brings tears into my eyes. +Oh, dearest girl, I must live before you with that prayer, and tell +me what you will, I must still pray it. Nor do I care how long you +ask me to wait; my life has now but one desire, to love you in such +a way as best may please you, to love you as much as you will let +me. Helen, I have told all myself to you, and here as we gaze into +each other's eyes our souls are bare to each other. As I say those +words they bring to me a thought that sweeps away all my +being,--that perhaps the great sorrow you have known has chastened +your heart so that you too wish to forget yourself, and worship at +the shrine of love; I see you trembling, and I think that perhaps it +may be that, and that it needs only a word of mine to bring your +soul to me! What that thought is I cannot tell you; but oh, it has +been the dream of my life, it has been the thing for which I have +lived, and for which I was dying. If I could win you for mine, +Helen, for mine--and take you away with me, away from all else but +love! The thought of it chokes me, and fills me with mighty anguish +of yearning; and my soul burns for you, and I stretch out my arms to +you; and I cry out to you that the happiness of my life is in your +hands--that I love you--oh, that I love you!" + +As the man had been speaking he had sunk down before Helen, still +clasping her hands in his own. A great trembling had seized upon the +girl and her bosom was rising and falling swiftly; but she mastered +herself with a desperate effort and looked up, staring at him. "You +tell me that you love me," she gasped, "you tell me that I am +perfect! And yet you know what I have done--you have seen all my +wrongness!" + +Her voice broke, and she could not speak a word more; she bowed her +head and the trembling came again, while the other clasped her hands +more tightly and bent towards her. "Helen," he said, "I call you to +a sacred life that forgets all things but love. Precious girl, my +soul cries out to me that I have a right to you, that you were made +that I might kneel before you; it cries out to me, 'Speak the word +and claim her, claim her for your own, for no man could love her +more than you love her. Tell her that all your life you have waited +for this sacred hour to come; tell her that you have power and life, +and that all your soul is hers!' And oh, dear heart, if only you +could tell me that you might love me, that years of waiting might +win you, it would be such happiness as I have never dared to dream. +Tell me, Helen, tell me if it be true!" + +And the girl lifted her face to him, and he saw that all her soul +had leaped into her eyes. Her bosom heaved, and she flung back her +head and stretched wide her arms, and cried aloud, "Oh, David, I do +love you!" + +He clasped her in his arms and pressed her upon his bosom in an +ecstasy of joy, and kissed the lips that had spoken the wonderful +words. "Tell me," he exclaimed, "you will be mine?" And she answered +him, "Yours!" + +For that there was no answer but the clasp of his love. At last he +whispered, "Oh, Helen, a lifetime of worship can never repay you for +words like those. My life, my soul, tell me once more, for you +cannot be mine too utterly; tell me once more that you are mine!" + +And suddenly she leaned back her head and looked into his burning +eyes, and began swiftly, her voice choking: "Oh, listen, listen to +me!--if it be a pleasure to you to know how you have this heart. I +tell you, wonderful man that God has given me for mine, that I loved +you the first word that I heard you speak in the garden. You were +all that I knew of in life to yearn for--you were a wonderful light +that had flashed upon me and blinded me; and when I saw my own +vileness in it I flung myself down on my face, and felt a more +fearful despair than I had ever dreamed could torture a soul. I +would have crawled to you upon my knees and groveled in the dirt and +begged you to have mercy upon me; and afterwards when you lifted me +up, I could have kissed the ground that you trod. But oh, I knew one +thing, and it was all that gave me courage ever to look upon you; I +heard the sacred voice of my womanhood within me, telling me that I +was not utterly vile, because it was in my ignorance that I had done +my sin; and that if ever I had known what love really was, I should +have laughed at the wealth of empires. To win your heart I would +fling away all that I ever cared for in life--my beauty, my health, +my happiness--yes, I would fling away my soul! And when you talked +to me of love and told me that its sacrifice was hard, I--I, little +girl that I am--could have told you that you were talking as a +child; and I thought, 'Oh, if only this man, instead of urging me to +love another and win my peace, if only _he_ were not afraid to trust +me, if only he were willing that I should love _him!_' And this +afternoon when I set out with you, do you know what was the real +thing that lay at the bottom of my heart and made me so happy? I +said to myself, 'It may take months, and it may take years, but +there is a crown in life that I may win--that I may win forever! +And this man shall tell me my duty, and night and day I shall watch +and pray to do it, and do more; and he will not know why I do it, +but it shall be for nothing but the love of him; and some day the +worship that is in his heart shall come to me, tho it find me upon +my death-bed.' And now you take me and tell me that I have only to +love you; and you frighten me, and I cannot believe that it is true! +But oh, you are pilot and master, and you know, and I will believe +you--only tell me this wonderful thing again that I may be +sure--that in spite of all my weakness and my helplessness and my +failures, you love me--and you trust me--and you ask for me. If +that is really the truth, David,--tell me if that is really the +truth!" + +David whispered to her, "Yes, yes; that is the truth;" and the girl +went on swiftly, half sobbing with her emotion: + +"If you tell me that, what more do I need to know? You are my life +and my soul, and you call me. For the glory of your wonderful love I +will leave all the rest of the world behind me, and you may take me +where you will and when you will, and do with me what you please. +And oh, you who frightened me so about my wrongness and told me how +hard it was to be right--do you know how easy it is for me to say +those words? And do you know how happy I am--because I love you and +you are mine? David--my David--my heart has been so full,--so wild +and thirsty,--that now when you tell me that you want all my love, +it is a word of glory to me, it tells me to be happy as never in my +life have I been happy before!" + +And David bent towards her and kissed her upon her beautiful lips +and upon her forehead; and he pressed the trembling form closer upon +him, so that the heaving of her bosom answered to his own. "Listen, +my love, my precious heart," he whispered, "I will tell you about +the vision of my life, now when you and I are thus heart to heart. +Helen, my soul cries out that this union must be perfect, in mind +and soul and body a blending of all ourselves; so that we may live +in each other's hearts, and seek each other's perfection; so that we +may have nothing one from the other, but be one and the same soul in +the glory of our love. That is such a sacred thought, my life, my +darling; it makes all my being a song! And as I clasp you to me +thus, and kiss you, I feel that I have never been so near to God. I +have worshiped all my days in the great religion of love, and now as +the glory of it burns in my heart I feel lifted above even us, and +see that it is because of Him that we love each other so; because He +is one, our souls may be one, actually and really one, so that each +loses himself and lives the other's life. I know that I love you so +that I can fling my whole self away, and give up every thought in +life but you. As I tell you that, my heart is bursting; oh! drink in +this passion of mine, and tell me once more that you love me!" + +Helen had still been leaning back her head and gazing into his eyes, +all her soul uplifted in the glory of her emotion; there was a wild +look upon her face,--and her breath was coming swiftly. For a moment +more she gazed at him, and then she buried her face on his shoulder, +crying, "Mine--mine!" For a long time she clung to him, breathing +the word and quite lost in the joy of it; until at last she leaned +back her head and gazed up into his eyes once more. + +"Oh, David," she said, "what can I answer you? I can only tell you +one thing, that here I am in your arms, and that I am yours--yours! +And I love you, oh, before God I love you with all my soul! And I am +so happy--oh, David, so happy! Dearest heart, can you not see how +you have won me, so that I cannot live without you, so that anything +you ask of me you may have? I cannot tell you any more, because I am +trembling so, and I am so weak; for this has been more than I can +bear, it is as if all my being were melting within me. But oh, I +never thought that a human being could be so happy, or that to love +could be such a world of wonder and joy." + +Helen, as she had been speaking, had sunk down exhaustedly, letting +her head fall forward upon her bosom; she lay quite limp in David's +arms, while little by little the agitation that had so shaken her +subsided. In the meantime he was bending over the golden hair that +was so wild and so beautiful, and there were tears in his eyes. When +at last the girl was quiet she leaned back her head upon his arm and +looked up into his face, and he bent over her and pressed a kiss +upon her mouth. Helen gazed into his eyes and asked him: + +"David, do you really know what you have done to this little maiden, +how fearfully and how madly you have made her yours? I never dreamed +of what it could mean to love before; when men talked to me of it I +laughed at them, and the touch of their hands made me shrink. And +now here I am, and everything about me is changed. Take me away with +you, David, and keep me--I do not care what becomes of me, if only +you let me have your heart." + +The girl closed her eyes and lay still again for a long time; when +she began to speak once more it was softly, and very slowly, and +half as if in a dream: "David," she whispered, "_my_ David, I am +tired; I think I never felt so helpless. But oh, dear heart, it +seems a kind of music in my soul,--that I have cast all my sorrow +away, and that I may be happy again, and be at peace--at peace!" And +the girl repeated the words to herself more and more gently, until +her voice had died away altogether; the other was silent for a long +time, gazing down upon the perfect face, and then at last he kissed +the trembling eyelids till they opened once again. + +"Sweet girl," he whispered, "as God gives me life you shall never be +sorry for that beautiful faith, or sorry that you have laid bare +your heart to me." Long afterwards, having watched her without +speaking, he went on with a smile, "I wonder if you would not be +happier yet, dearest, if I should tell you all the beautiful things +that I mean to do with you. For now that you are all mine, I am +going to carry you far away; you will like that, will you not, +precious one?" + +He saw a little of an old light come back into Helen's eyes as he +asked that question. "What difference does it make?" she asked, +gently. + +David laughed and went on: "Very well then, you shall have nothing +to do with it. I shall take you in my arms just as you are. And I +have a beautiful little house, a very little house among the wildest +of mountains, and there we shall live this wonderful summer, all +alone with our wonderful love. And there we shall have nature to +worship, and beautiful music, and beautiful books to read. You shall +never have anything more to think about all your life but making +yourself perfect and beautiful." + +The girl had raised herself up and was gazing at him with interest +as he spoke thus. But he saw a swift frown cross her features at his +last words, and he stopped and asked her what was the matter. +Helen's reply was delivered very gravely. "What I was to think +about," she said, "was settled long ago, and I wish you would not +say wicked things like that to me." + +A moment later she laughed at herself a little; but then, pushing +back her tangled hair from her forehead, she went on seriously: +"David, what you tell me of is all that I ever thought of enjoying +in life; and yet I am so glad that you did not say anything about it +before! For I want to love you because of _you_, and I want you to +know that I would follow you and worship you and live in your love +if there were nothing else in life for you to offer me. And, David, +do you not see that you are never going to make this poor, restless +creature happy until you have given her something stern to do, +something that she may know she is doing just for your love and for +nothing else, bearing some effort and pain to make you happy?" + +The girl had put her hands upon his shoulders, and was gazing +earnestly into his eyes; he looked at her for a moment, and then +responded in a low voice: "Helen, dearest, let us not play with +fearful words, and let us not tempt sorrow. My life has not been all +happiness, and you will have pain enough to share with me, I fear, +poor little girl." She thought in a flash of his sickness, and she +turned quite pale as she looked at him; but then she bent forward +gently and folded her arms about him, and for a minute more there +was silence. + +There were tears standing in David's eyes when she looked at him +again. But he smiled in spite of them and kissed her once more, and +said: "Sweetheart, it is not wrong that we should be happy while we +can; and come what may, you know, we need not ever cease to love. +When I hear such noble words from you I think I have a medicine to +make all sickness light; so be bright and beautiful once more for my +sake." + +Helen smiled and answered that she would, and then her eye chanced +to light upon the ground, where she saw the wild rose lying +forgotten; she stooped down and picked it up, and then knelt on the +grass beside David and pressed it against his bosom while she gazed +up into his face. "Once," she said, smiling tenderly, "I read a +pretty little stanza, and if you will love me more for it, I will +tell it to you. + + "'The sweetest flower that blows + I give you as we part, + To you, it is a rose, + To me, it is a heart.'" + +And the man took the flower, and took the hands too, and kissed +them; then a memory chanced to come to him, and he glanced about him +on the moss-covered forest floor. He saw some little clover-like +leaves that all forest-lovers love, and he stooped and picked one of +the gleaming white blossoms and laid it in Helen's hands. "Dearest," +he said, "it is beautiful to make love with the flowers; I chanced +to think how I once _wrote_ a pretty little poem, and if you will +love me more for it, I will tell it to _you_." Then while the girl +gazed at him happily, he went on to add, "This was long before I +knew you, dear, and when I worshiped the flowers. One of them was +this little wood sorrel. + + I found it in the forest dark, + A blossom of the snow; + I read upon its face so fair, + No heed of human woe. + + Yet when I sang my passion song + And when the sun rose higher, + The flower flung wide its heart to me, + And lo! its heart was fire." + +Helen gazed at him a moment after he finished, and then she took the +little flower and laid it gently back in the group from which he had +plucked it; afterwards she looked up and laughed. "I want that poem +for myself," she said, and drew closer to him, and put her arms +about him; he gazed into her upraised face, and there was a look of +wonder in his eyes. + +"Oh, precious girl," he said, "I wonder if you know what a vision of +beauty God has made you! I wonder if you know how fair your eyes +are, if you know what glory a man may read in your face! Helen, when +I look upon you I know that God has meant to pay me for all my years +of pain; and it is all that I can do to think that you are really, +really mine. Do you not know that to gaze upon you will make me a +mad, mad creature for years and years and years?" + +Helen answered him gravely: "With all my beauty, David, I am really, +really yours; and I love you so that I do not care anything in the +world about being beautiful, except because it makes you happy; to +do that I shall be always just as perfect as I may, thro all those +mad years and years and years!" Then, as she glanced about her, she +added: "We must go pretty soon, because it is late; but oh, before +we do, sweetheart, will you kiss me once more for all those years +and years and years?" + +And David bent over and clasped her in his arms again, + + Sie ist mir ewig, ist mir + immer, Erb und Eigen, ein und all! + +END OF PART I + + + + +PART II + + "When summer gathers up her robes of glory, + And like a dream of beauty glides away." + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + "Across the hills and far away, + Beyond their utmost purple rim, + And deep into the dying day + The happy princess follow'd him." + +It was several months after Helen's marriage. The scene was a little +lake, in one of the wildest parts of the Adirondacks, surrounded by +tall mountains which converted it into a basin in the land, and +walled in by a dense growth about the shores, which added still more +to its appearance of seclusion. In only one place was the scenery +more open, where there was a little vale between two of the hills, +and where a mountain torrent came rushing down the steep incline. +There the underbrush had been cleared away, and beneath the great +forest trees a house constructed, a little cabin built of logs, and +in harmony with the rest of the scene. + +It was only large enough for two or three rooms downstairs, and as +many above, and all were furnished in the plainest way. About the +main room there were shelves of books, and a piano and a well-chosen +music-library. It was the little home which for a dozen years or +more David Howard had occupied alone, and where he and Helen had +spent the golden summer of their love. + +It was late in the fall then, and the mountains were robed in +scarlet and orange. Helen was standing upon the little piazza, a +shawl flung about her shoulders, because it was yet early in the +morning. She was talking to her father, who had been paying them a +few days' visit, and was taking a last look about him at the fresh +morning scene before it was time for him to begin his long homeward +journey. + +Helen was clad in a simple dress, and with the prettiest of white +sun bonnets tied upon her head; she was browned by the sun, and +looked a picture of health and happiness as she held her father's +arm in hers. "And then you are quite sure that you are happy?" he +was saying, as he looked at her radiant face. + +She echoed the word--"Happy?" and then she stretched out her arms +and took a deep breath and echoed it again. "I am so happy," she +laughed, "I never know what to do! You did not stay long enough for +me to tell you, Daddy!" She paused for a moment, and then went on, +"I think there never was anybody in the world so full of joy. For +this is such a beautiful little home, you know, and we live such a +beautiful life; and oh, we love each other so that the days seem to +fly by like the wind! I never even have time to think how happy I +am." + +"Your husband really loves you as much as he ought," said the +father, gazing at her tenderly. + +"I think God never put on earth another such man as David," replied, +the girl, with sudden gravity. "He is so noble, and so unselfish in +every little thing; I see it in his eyes every instant that all his +life is lived for nothing but to win my love. And it just draws the +heart right out of me, Daddy, so that I could live on my knees +before him, just trying to tell him how much I love him. I cannot +ever love him enough; but it grows--it grows like great music, and +every day my heart is more full!" + +Helen was standing with her head thrown back, gazing ahead of her; +then she turned and laughed, and put her arm about her father again, +saying: "Haven't you just seen what a beautiful life we live? And +oh, Daddy, most of the time I am afraid because I married David, +when I see how much he knows. Just think of it,--he has lived all +alone ever since he was young, and done nothing but read and study. +Now he brings all those treasures to me, to make me happy with, and +he frightens me." She stopped for a moment and then continued +earnestly: "I have to be able to go with him everywhere, you know, I +can't expect him to stay back all his life for me; and that makes me +work very hard. David says that there is one duty in the world +higher than love, and that is the duty of labor,--that no soul in +the world can be right for one instant if it is standing still and +is satisfied, even with the soul it loves. He told me that before he +married me, but at first when we came up here he was so impatient +that he quite frightened me; but now I have learned to understand it +all, and we are wonderfully one in everything. Daddy, dear, isn't it +a beautiful way to live, to be always striving, and having something +high and sacred in one's mind? And to make all of one's life from +one's own heart, and not to be dependent upon anything else? David +and I live away off here in the mountains, and we never have +anything of what other people call comforts and enjoyments--we have +nothing but a few books and a little music, and Nature, and our own +love; and we are so wonderfully happy with just those that nothing +else in the world could make any difference, certainly nothing that +money could buy us." + +"I was worried when you wrote me that you did not even have a +servant," said Mr. Davis. + +"It isn't any trouble," laughed Helen. (David's man lived in the +village half a mile away and came over every day to bring what was +necessary.) "This is such a tiny little cottage, and David and I are +very enthusiastic people, and we want to be able to make lots of +noise and do just as we please. We have so much music, you know, +Daddy, and of course David is quite a wild man when he gets excited +with music." + +Helen stopped and looked at her father and laughed; then she rattled +merrily on: "We are both of us just two children, for David is so +much in love with me that it makes him as young as I am; and we are +away off from everything, and so we can be as happy with each other +as we choose. We have this little lake all to ourselves, you know; +it's getting cold now, and pretty soon we'll have to fly away to the +south, but all this summer long we used to get up in the morning in +time to see the sun rise, and to have a wonderful swim. And then we +have so many things to read and study; and David talks to me, and +tells me all that he knows; and besides all that we have to tell +each other how much we love each other, which takes a fearful amount +of time. It seems that neither of us can ever quite realize the +glory of it, and when we think of it, it is a wonder that nobody +ever told. Is not that a beautiful way to live, Daddy dear, and to +love?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Davis, "that is a very beautiful way indeed. And I +think that my little girl has all that I could wish her to have." + +"Oh, there is no need to tell me that!" laughed Helen. "All I wish +is that I might really be like David and be worth his love; I never +think about anything else all day." The girl stood for a moment +gazing at her father, and then, looking more serious, she put her +arm about him and whispered softly: "And oh, Daddy, it is too +wonderful to talk about, but I ought to tell you; for some day by +and by God is going to send us a new, oh, a new, new wonder!" And +Helen blushed beautifully as her father gazed into her eyes. + +He took her hand tenderly in his own, and the two stood for some +time in silence. When it was broken it was by the rattling of the +wagon which had come to take Mr. Davis away. + +David came out then to bid his guest good-by, and the three stood +for a few minutes conversing. It was not very difficult for, Helen +to take leave of her father, for she would see him, so she said, in +a week or two more. She stood waving her hands to him, until the +bumping wagon was lost to sight in the woods, and then she turned +and took David's hand in hers and gazed across the water at the +gorgeous-colored mountains. The lake was sparkling in the sunlight, +and the sky was bright and clear, but Helen's thoughts took a +different turn from that. + +All summer long she had been rejoicing in the glory of the landscape +about her, in the glowing fern and the wild-flowers underfoot, and +in the boundless canopy of green above, with its unresting +song-birds; now there were only the shrill cries of a pair of +blue-jays to be heard, and every puff of wind that came brought down +a shower of rustling leaves to the already thickly-covered ground. + +"Is it not sad, David," the girl said, "to think how the beauty +should all be going?" + +David did not answer her for a moment. "When I think of it," he said +at last, "it brings me not so much sadness as a strange feeling of +mystery. Only stop, and think of what that vanished springtime +meant--think that it was a presence of living, feeling, growing +creatures,--infinite, unthinkable masses of them, robing all the +world; and that now the life and the glory of it all is suddenly +gone back into nothingness, that it was all but a fleeting vision, a +phantom presence on the earth. I never realize that without coming +to think of all the other things of life, and that they too are no +more real than the springtime flowers; and so it makes me feel as if +I were walking upon air, and living in a dream." + +Helen was leaning against a post of the piazza, her eyes fixed upon +David intently. "Does that not give a new meaning to the vanished +spring-time?" he asked her; and she replied in a wondering whisper, +"Yes," and then gazed at him for a long time. + +"David," she said at last, "it is fearful to think of a thing like +that. What does it all mean? What causes it?" + +"Men have been asking that helpless question since the dawn of +time," he answered, "we only know what we see, this whirling and +weaving of shadows, with its sacred facts of beauty and love." + +Helen looked at him thoughtfully a moment, and then, recollecting +something she had heard from her father, she said, "But, David, if +God be a mystery like that, how can there be any religion?" + +"What we may fancy God to be makes no difference," he answered. +"That which we know is always the same, we have always the love and +always the beauty. All men's religion is but the assertion that the +source of these sacred things must be infinitely sacred, and that +whatever may happen to us, that source can suffer no harm; that we +live by a power stronger than ourselves, and that has no need of +us." + +Helen was looking at her husband anxiously; then suddenly she asked +him, "But tell me then, David; you do not believe in heaven? You do +not believe that our souls are immortal?" As he answered her in the +negative she gave a slight start, and knitted her brows; and after +another pause she demanded, "You do not believe in revealed religion +then?" + +David could not help smiling, recognizing the voice of his clerical +father-in-law; when he answered, however, he was serious again. +"Some day, perhaps, dear Helen," he said, "I will tell you all about +what I think as to such things. But very few of the world's real +thinkers believe in revealed religions any more--they have come to +see them simply as guesses of humanity at God's great sacred +mystery, and to believe that God's way of revealing Himself to men +is through the forms of life itself. As to the question of +immortality that you speak of, I have always felt that death is a +sign of the fact that God is infinite and perfect, and that we are +but shadows in his sight; that we live by a power that is not our +own, and seek for beauty that is not our own, and that each instant +of our lives is a free gift which we can only repay by thankfulness +and worship." + +He paused for a moment, and the girl, who had still been gazing at +him thoughtfully, went on, "Father used to talk about those things +to me, David, and he showed me how the life of men is all spent in +suffering and struggling, and that therefore faith teaches us---" + +"Yes, dearest," the other put in, "I know all that you are going to +say; I have read these arguments very often, you know. But suppose +that I were to tell you that I think suffering and struggling is the +very essence of the soul, and that what faith teaches us is that the +suffering and struggling are sacred, and not in the least that they +are some day to be made as nothing? Dearest, if it is true that the +soul makes this life what it is, a life of restless seeking for an +infinite, would it not make the same life anywhere else? Do you +remember reading with me Emerson's poem about Uriel, the seraph who +sang before God's throne,--how even that could not please him, and +how he left it to plunge into the struggle of things imperfect; and +how ever after the rest of the seraphim were afraid of Uriel? Do you +think, dearest, that this life of love and labor that you and I live +our own selves needs anything else to justify it? The life that I +lived all alone was much harder and more full of pain than this, but +I never thought that it needed any rewarding." + +David stopped and stood gazing ahead of him thoughtfully; when he +continued his voice was lower and more solemn. "These things are +almost too sacred to talk of, Helen," he said; "but there is one +doubt that I have known about this, one thing that has made me +wonder if there ought not to be another world after all. I never +sympathized with any man's longing for heaven, but I can understand +how a man might be haunted by some fearful baseness of his own +self,--something which long years of effort had taught him he could +not ever expiate by the strength of his own heart,--and how he could +pray that there might be some place where rightness might be won at +last, cost what it would." + +The man's tone had been so strange as he spoke that it caused Helen +to start; suddenly she came closer to him and put her hands upon his +shoulders and gazed into his eyes. "David," she whispered, "listen +to me a moment." + +"Yes, dear," he said, "what is it?" + +"Was it because of yourself that you said those words?" + +He was silent for a moment, gazing into her anxious eyes; then he +bowed his head and said in a faint voice, "Yes, dear, it was because +of myself." + +And the girl, becoming suddenly very serious, went on, "Do you +remember, David, a long time ago--the time that I was leaving Aunt +Polly's--that you told me how you knew what it was to have +something very terrible on one's conscience? I have not ever said +anything about that, but I have never forgotten it. Was it that that +you thought of then?" + +"Yes, dear, it was that," answered the other, trembling slightly. + +Helen stooped down upon her knees and put her arms about him, gazing +up pleadingly into his face. "Dearest David," she whispered, "is it +right to refuse to tell me about that sorrow?" + +There was a long silence, after which the man replied slowly, "I +have not ever refused to tell you, sweetheart; it would be very +fearful to tell, but I have not any secrets from you; and if you +wished it, you should know. But, dear, it was long, long ago, and +nothing can ever change it now. It would only make us sad to know +it, so why should we talk of it?" + +He stopped, and Helen gazed long and earnestly into his face. +"David," she said, "it is not possible for me to imagine you ever +doing anything wrong, you are so good." + +"Perhaps," said David, "it is because you are so good yourself." But +Helen interrupted him at that with a quick rejoinder: "Do you forget +that I too have a sorrow upon my conscience?" Afterwards, as she saw +that the eager remark caused the other to smile in spite of himself, +she checked him gravely with the words, "Have you really forgotten +so soon? Do you suppose I do not ever think now of how I treated +poor Arthur, and how I drove away from me the best friend of my +girlhood? He wrote me that he would think of me no more, but, David, +sometimes I wonder if it were not just an angry boast, and if he +might not yet be lonely and wretched, somewhere in this great cold +world where I cannot ever find him or help him." + +The girl paused; David was regarding her earnestly, and for a long +time neither of them spoke. Then suddenly the man bent down, and +pressed a kiss upon her forehead. "Let us only love each other, +dear," he whispered, "and try to keep as right as we can while the +time is given us." + +There was a long silence after that while the two sat gazing out +across the blue lake; when Helen spoke again it was to say, "Some +day you must tell me all about it, David, because I can help you; +but let us not talk about these dreadful things now." She stopped +again, and afterwards went on thoughtfully, "I was thinking still of +what you said about immortality, and how very strange it is to think +of ceasing to be. Might it not be, David, that heaven is a place not +of reward, but of the same ceaseless effort as you spoke of?" + +"Ah, yes," said the other, "that is the thought of 'the wages of +going on.' And of course, dear, we would all like those wages; there +is no thought that tempts me so much as the possibility of being +able to continue the great race forever; but I don't see how we have +the least right to demand it, or that the facts give us the least +reason to suppose that we will get it. It seems to me simply a +fantastic and arbitrary fancy; the re-creating of a worn-out life in +that way. I do not think, dearest, that I am in the least justified +in claiming an eternity of vision because God gives me an hour; and +when I ask Him the question in my own heart I learn simply that I am +a wretched, sodden creature that I do not crowd that hour with all +infinity and go quite mad at the sight of the beauty that He flings +wide before me." + +Helen did not reply for a while, and then she asked: "And you think, +David, that our life justifies itself no matter how much suffering +may be in it?" + +"I think, dearest," was his reply, "that the soul's life is +struggle, and that the soul's life is sacred; and that to be right, +to struggle to be right, is not only life's purpose, but also life's +reward; and that each instant of such righteousness is its own +warrant, tho the man be swept out of existence in the next." Then +David stopped, and when he went on it was in a lower voice. "Dear +Helen," he said, "after I have told you what I feel I deserve in +life, you can understand my not wishing to talk lightly about such +things as suffering. Just now, as I sit here at my ease, and in fact +all through my poor life, I have felt about such sacred words as +duty and righteousness that it would be just as well if they did not +ever pass my lips. But there have come to me one or two times, dear, +when I dared a little of the labor of things, and drank a drop or +two of the wine of the spirit; and those times have lived to haunt +me and make me at least not a happy man in my unearned ease. There +come to me still just once in a while hours when I get sight of the +gleam, hours that make me loathe all that in my hours of comfort I +loved; and there comes over me then a kind of Titanic rage, that I +should go down a beaten soul because I have not the iron strength of +will to lash my own self to life, and tear out of my own heart a +little of what power is in it. At such times, Helen, I find just +this one wish in my mind,--that God would send to me, cost what it +might, some of the fearful experience that rouses a man's soul +within him, and makes him live his life in spite of all his dullness +and his fear." + +David had not finished, but he halted, because he saw a strange look +upon the girl's face. She did not answer him at once, but sat gazing +at him; and then she said in a very grave voice, "David, I do not +like to hear such words as that from you." + +"What words, dearest?" + +"Do you mean actually that it sometimes seems to you wrong to live +happily with me as you have?" + +David laid his hand quietly upon hers, watching for a minute her +anxious countenance. Then he said in a low voice: "You ought not to +ask me about such things, dear, or blame me for them. Sometimes I +have to face the very cruel thought that I ought not ever to have +linked my fate to one so sweet and gentle as you, because what I +ought to be doing in the world to win a right conscience is +something so hard and so stern that it would mean that I could never +be really happy all my life." + +David was about to go on, but he stopped again because of Helen's +look of displeasure. "David," she whispered, "that is the most +unloving thing that I have ever heard from you!" + +"And you must blame me, dear, because of it?" he asked. + +"I suppose," Helen answered, "that you would misunderstand me as +long as I chose to let you. Do you not suppose that I too have a +conscience,--do you suppose that I want any happiness it is wrong +for us to take, or that I would not dare to go anywhere that your +duty took you? And do you suppose that anything could be so painful +to me as to know that you do not trust me, that you are afraid to +live your life, and do what is your duty, before me?" + +David bent down suddenly and pressed a kiss upon the girl's +forehead. "Precious little heart," he whispered, "those words are +very beautiful." + +"I did not say them because they were beautiful," answered Helen +gravely; "I said them because I meant them, and because I wanted you +to take them in earnest. I want to know what it is that you and I +ought to be doing, instead of enjoying our lives; and after you have +told me what it is I can tell you one thing--that I shall not be +happy again in my life until it is done." + +David watched her thoughtfully a while before he answered, because +he saw that she was very much in earnest. Then he said sadly, +"Dearest Helen, perhaps the reason that I have never been able all +through my life to satisfy my soul is the pitiful fact that I have +not the strength to dare any of the work of other men; I have had +always to chafe under the fact that I must choose between nourishing +my poor body, or ceasing to live. I have learned that all my +power--and more too, as it sometimes seemed,--was needed to bear +bravely the dreadful trials that God has sent to me." + +Helen paled slightly; she felt his hand trembling upon hers, and she +remembered his illness at her aunt's, about which she had never had +the courage to speak to him. "And so, dear heart," he went on +slowly, "let us only be sure that we are keeping our lives pure and +strong, that we are living in the presence of high thoughts and +keeping the mastery of ourselves, and saying and really meaning that +we live for something unselfish; so that if duty and danger come, we +shall not prove cowards, and if suffering comes we should not give +way and lose our faith. Does that please you, dear Helen?" + +The girl pressed his hand silently in hers. After a while he went on +still more solemnly: "Some time," he said, "I meant to talk to you +about just that, dearest, to tell you how stern and how watchful we +ought to be. It is very sad to me to see what happens when the great +and fearful realities of life disclose themselves to good and kind +people who have been living without any thought of such things. I +feel that it is very wrong to live so, that if we wished to be right +we would hold the high truths before us, no matter how much labor it +cost." + +"What truths do you mean?" asked Helen earnestly; and he answered +her: "For one, the very fearful fact of which I have just been +talking--that you and I are two bubbles that meet for an instant +upon the whirling stream of time. Suppose, sweetheart, that I were +to tell you that I do not think you and I would be living our lives +truly, until we were quite sure that we could bear to be parted +forever without losing our faith in God's righteousness?" + +Helen turned quite white, and clutched the other's hands in hers; +she had not once thought of actually applying what he had said to +her. "David! David!" she cried, "No!" + +The man smiled gently as he brushed back the hair from her forehead +and gazed into her eyes. "And when you asked for sternness, dear," +he said, "was it that you did not know what the word meant? Life is +real, dear Helen, and the effort it demands is real effort." + +The girl did not half hear these last words; she was still staring +at her husband. "Listen to me, David," she said at last, still +holding his hand tightly in hers, her voice almost a whisper; "I +could bear anything for you, David, I know that I could bear +_anything_; I could really die for you, I say that with all my +soul,--that was what I was thinking of when you spoke of death. But +David, if you were to be taken from me,--if you were to be taken +from me--" and she stopped, unable to find a word more. + +"Perhaps it will be just as well not to tell me, dear heart," he +said to her, gently. + +"David," she went on more strenuously yet, "listen to me--you must +not ever ask me to think of that! Do you hear me? For, oh, it cannot +be true, it cannot be true, David, that you could be taken from me +forever! What would I have left to live for?" + +"Would you not have the great wonderful God?" asked the other +gently--"the God who made me and all that was lovable in me, and +made you, and would demand that you worship him?" But Helen only +shook her head once more and answered, "It could not be true, +David,--no, no!" Then she added in a faint voice, "What would be the +use of my having lived?" + +The man bent forward and kissed her again, and kissed away a little +of the frightened, anxious look upon her face. "My dear," he said +with a gentle smile, "perhaps I was wrong to trouble you with such +fearful things after all. Let me tell you instead a thought that +once came to my mind, and that has stayed there as the one I should +like to call the most beautiful of all my life; it may help to +answer that question of yours about the use of having lived. Men +love life so much, Helen dear, that they cannot ever have enough of +it, and to keep it and build it up they make what we call the arts; +this thought of mine is about one of them, about music, the art that +you and I love most. For all the others have been derived from +things external, but music was made out of nothing, and exists but +for its one great purpose, and therefore is the most spiritual of +all of them. I like to say that it is time made beautiful, and so a +shadow picture of the soul; it is this, because it can picture +different degrees of speed and of power, because it can breathe and +throb, can sweep and soar, can yearn and pray,--because, in short, +everything that happens in the heart can happen in music, so that we +may lose ourselves in it and actually live its life, or so that a +great genius can not merely tell us about himself, but can make all +the best hours of his soul actually a part of our own. This thought +that I said was beautiful came to me from noticing how perfectly the +art was one with that which it represented; so that we may say not +only that music is life, but that life is music. Music exists +because it is beautiful, dear Helen, and because it brings an +instant of the joy of beauty to our hearts, and for no other reason +whatever; it may be music of happiness or of sorrow, of achievement +or only of hope, but so long as it is beautiful it is right, and it +makes no difference, either, that it cost much labor of men, or that +when it is gone it is gone forever. And dearest, suppose that the +music not only was beautiful, but knew that it was beautiful; that +it was not only the motion of the air, but also the joy of our +hearts; might it not then be its own excuse, just one strain of it +that rose in the darkness, and quivered and died away again +forever?" + +When David had spoken thus he stopped and sat still for a while, +gazing at his wife; then seeing the anxious look still in possession +of her face, he rose suddenly by way of ending their talk. +"Dearest," he said, smiling, "it is wrong of me, perhaps, to worry +you about such very fearful things as those; let us go in, and find +something to do that is useful, and not trouble ourselves with them +any more." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + + "O Freude, habe Acht! + Sprich leise, + Dass nicht der Schmerz erwacht!" + +It was late on the afternoon of the day that Helen's father had left +for home, and David was going into the village with some letters to +mail. Helen was not feeling very well herself and could not go, but +she insisted upon his going, for she watched over his exercise and +other matters of health with scrupulous care. She had wrapped him up +in a heavy overcoat, and was kneeling beside his chair with her arms +about him. + +"Tell me, dear," she asked him, for the third or fourth time, "are +you sure this will be enough to keep you warm?--for the nights are +so very cold, you know; I do not like you to come back alone +anyway." + +"I don't think you would be much of a protection against danger," +laughed David. + +"But it will be dark when you get back, dear." + +"It will only be about dusk," was the reply; "I don't mind that." + +Helen gazed at him wistfully for a minute, and then she went on: "Do +you not know what is the matter with me, David? You frightened me +to-day, and I cannot forget what you said. Each time that it comes +to my mind it makes me shudder. Why should you say such fearful +things to me?" + +"I am very sorry," said the other, gently. + +"You simply must not talk to me so!" cried the girl; "if you do you +will make me so that I cannot bear to leave you for an instant. For +those thoughts make my love for you simply desperate, David; I cry +out to myself that I never have loved you enough, never told you +enough!" And then she added pleadingly, "But oh, you know that I +love you, do you not, dear? Tell me." + +"Yes, I know it," said the other gently, taking her in his arms and +kissing her. + +"Come back soon," Helen went on, "and I will tell you once more how +much I do; and then we can be happy again, and I won't be afraid any +more. Please let me be happy, won't you, David?" + +"Yes, love, I will," said the man with a smile. "I do not think that +I was wise ever to trouble you." + +Helen was silent for a while, then as a sudden thought occurred to +her she added: "David, I meant to tell you something--do you know if +those horrible thoughts keep haunting me, it is just this that they +will make me do; you said that God was very good, and so I was +thinking that I would show him how very much I love you, how I could +really never get along without you, and how I care for nothing else +in the world. It seems to me to be such a little thing, that we +should only just want to love; and truly, that is all I do want,--I +would not mind anything else in the world,--I would go away from +this little house and live in any poor place, and do all the work, +and never care about anything else at all, if I just might have you. +That is really true, David, and I wish that you would know it, and +that God would know it, and not expect me to think of such dreadful +things as you talk of." + +As David gazed into her deep, earnest eyes he pressed her to him +with a sudden burst of emotion. "You have me now, dearest," he +whispered, "and oh, I shall trust the God who gave me this precious +heart!"--He kissed her once more in fervent love, and kissed her +again and again until the clouds had left her face. She leaned back +and gazed at him, and was radiant with delight again. "Oh--oh--oh!" +she cried. "David, it only makes me more full of wonder at the real +truth! For it is the truth, David, it is the truth--that you are all +mine! It is so wonderful, and it makes me so happy,--I seem to lose +myself more in the thought every day!" + +"You can never lose yourself too much, little sweetheart," David +whispered; "let us trust to love, and let it grow all that it will. +Helen, I never knew what it was to live until I met you,--never knew +how life could be so full and rich and happy. And never, never will +I be able to tell you how much I love you, dearest soul." + +"Oh, but I believe you without being told!" she said, laughing. "Do +you know, I could make myself quite mad just with saying over to +myself that you love me all that I could ever wish you to love me, +all that I could imagine you loving me! Isn't that true, David?" + +"Yes, that is true," the man replied. + +"But you don't know what a wonderful imagination I have," laughed +the girl, "and how hungry for your love I am." And she clasped him +to her passionately and cried, "David, you can make me too happy to +live with that thought! I shall have to think about it all the time +that you are gone, and when you come back I shall be so wonderfully +excited,--oh--oh, David!" + +Then she laughed eagerly and sprang up. "You must not stay any +longer," she exclaimed, "because it is getting late; only hurry +back, because I can do nothing but wait for you." And so she led him +to the door, and kissed him again, and then watched him as he +started up the road. He turned and looked at her, as she leaned +against the railing of the porch, with the glory of the sunset +falling upon her hair; she made a radiant picture, for her cheeks +were still flushed, and her bosom still heaving with the glory of +the thought she had promised to keep. There was so much of her love +in the look which she kept upon David that it took some resolution +to go on and leave her. + +As for Helen, she watched him until he had quite disappeared in the +forest, after which she turned and gazed across the lake at the gold +and crimson mountains. But all the time she was still thinking the +thought of David's love; the wonder of it was still upon her face, +and it seemed to lift her form; until at last she stretched wide her +arms, and leaned back her head, and drank a deep draft of the +evening air, whispering aloud, "Oh, I do not dare to be as happy as +I can!" And she clasped her arms upon her bosom and laughed a wild +laugh of joy. + +Later on, because it was cold, she turned and went into the house, +singing a song to herself as she moved. As she went to the piano and +sat down she saw upon the rack the little springtime song of Grieg's +that was the first thing she had ever heard upon David's violin; she +played a few bars of it to herself, and then she stopped and sat +still, lost in the memory which it brought to her mind of the night +when she had sat at the window and listened to it, just after seeing +Arthur for the last time. "And to think that it was only four or +five months ago!" she whispered to herself. "And how wretched I +was!" + +"I do not believe I could ever be so unhappy again," she went on +after a while, "I know that I could not, while I have David!" after +which her thoughts came back into the old, old course of joy. When +she looked at the music again the memory of her grief was gone, and +she read in it all of her own love-glory. She played it through +again, and afterwards sat quite still, until the twilight had begun +to gather in the room. + +Helen then rose and lit the lamp, and the fire in the open +fire-place; she glanced at the clock and saw that more than a +quarter of an hour had passed, and she said to herself that it could +not be more than that time again before David was back. + +"I should go out and meet him if I were feeling quite strong," she +added as she went to the door and looked out; then she exclaimed +suddenly: "But oh, I know how I can please him better!" And the girl +went to the table where some of her books were lying, and sat down +and began very diligently studying, glancing every half minute at +the clock and at the door. "I shall be too busy even to hear him!" +she said, with a sudden burst of glee; and quite delighted with the +effect that would produce she listened eagerly every time she +fancied she heard a step, and then fixed her eyes upon the book, and +put on a look of most complete absorption. + +Unfortunately for Helen's plan, however, each time it proved to be a +false alarm; and so the fifteen minutes passed completely, and then +five, and five again. The girl had quite given up studying by that +time, and was gazing at the clock, and listening to its ticking, and +wondering very much indeed. At last when more than three-quarters of +an hour had passed since David had left, she got up and went to the +door once more to listen; as she did not hear anything she went out +on the piazza, and finally to the road. All about her was veiled in +shadow, which her eyes strove in vain to pierce; and so growing +still more impatient she raised her voice and called, "David, +David!" and then stood and listened to the rustling of the leaves +and the faint lapping of the water on the shore. + +"That is very strange," Helen thought, growing very anxious indeed; +"it is fearfully strange! What in the world can have happened?" And +she called again, with no more result that before; until with a +sudden resolution she turned and passed quickly into the house, and +flinging a wrap about her, came out and started down the road. +Occasionally she raised her voice and shouted David's name, but +still she got no reply, and her anxiety soon changed into alarm, and +she was hurrying along, almost in a run. In this way she climbed the +long ascent which the road made from the lake shore; and when she +had reached the top of it she gathered her breath and shouted once +more, louder and more excitedly than ever. + +This time she heard the expected reply, and found that David was +only a few rods ahead of her. "What is the matter?" she called to +him, and as he answered that it was nothing, but to come to him, she +ran on more alarmed than ever. + +There was just light enough for her to see that David was bending +down; and then as she got very near she saw that on the ground in +front of him was lying a dark, shadowy form. As Helen cried out +again to know what was the matter, her husband said, "Do not be +frightened, dear; it is only some poor woman that I have found here +by the roadside." + +"A woman!" the girl echoed in wonder, at the same time giving a gasp +of relief at the discovery that her husband was not in trouble. +"Where in the world can she have come from, David?" + +"I do not know," he answered, "but she probably wandered off the +main road. It is some poor, wretched creature, Helen; she has been +drinking, and is quite helpless." + +And Helen stood still in horror, while David arose and came to her. +"You are out of breath, dear," he exclaimed, "why did you come so +fast?" + +"Oh, I was so frightened!" the girl panted. "I cannot tell you, +David, what happens in my heart whenever I think of your coming to +any harm. It was dreadful, for I knew something serious must be the +matter." + +David put his arm about her and kissed her to quiet her fears; then +he said, "You ought not to have come out, dear; but be calm now, for +there is nothing to worry you, only we must take care of this poor +woman. It is such a sad sight, Helen; I wish that you had not come +here." + +"What were you going to do?" asked the girl, forgetting herself +quickly in her sympathy. + +"I meant to come down and tell you," was David's reply; "and then go +back to town and get someone to come and take her away." + +"But, David, you can never get back over that rough road in the +darkness!" exclaimed Helen in alarm; "it is too far for you to walk, +even in the daytime--I will not let you do it, you must not!" + +"But dear, this poor creature cannot be left here; it will be a +bitter cold night, and she might die." + +Helen was silent for a moment in thought, and then she said in a +low, trembling voice: "David, there is only one thing to do." + +"What is that, dear?" asked the other. + +"We will have to take her home with us." + +"Do you know what you are saying?" asked the other with a start; +"that would be a fearful thing to do, Helen." + +"I cannot help it," she replied, "it is the only thing. And it would +be wicked not to be willing to do that, because she is a woman." + +"She is in a fearful way, dear," said the other, hesitatingly; "and +to ask you to take care of her--" + +"I would do anything sooner than let you take that walk in such +darkness as this!" was the girl's reply; and with that statement she +silenced all of his objections. + +And so at last David pressed her hand, and whispered, "Very well, +dear, God will bless you for it." Then for a while the two stood in +silence, until Helen asked, "Do you think that we can carry her, +poor creature?" + +"We may try it," the other replied; and Helen went and knelt by the +prostrate figure. The woman was muttering to herself, but she seemed +to be quite dazed, and not to know what was going on about her. +Helen did not hesitate any longer, but bent over and strove to lift +her; the woman was fortunately of a slight build, and seemed to be +very thin, so that with David's help it was easy to raise her to her +feet. It was a fearful task none the less, for the poor wretch was +foul with the mud in which she had been lying, and her wet hair was +streaming over her shoulders; as Helen strove to lift her up the +head sunk over upon her, but the girl bit her lips together grimly. +She put her arm about the woman's waist, and David did the same on +the other side, and so the three started, stumbling slowly along in +the darkness. + +"Are you sure that it is not too much for you?" David asked; "we can +stop whenever you like, Helen." + +"No, let us go on," the girl said; "she has almost no weight, and we +must not leave her out here in the cold. Her hands are almost frozen +now." + +They soon made their way on down to where the lights of the little +cottage shone through the trees. David could not but shrink back as +he thought of taking their wretched burden into their little home, +but he heard the woman groan feebly, and he was ashamed of his +thought. Nothing more was said until they had climbed the steps, not +without difficulty, and had deposited their burden upon the floor of +the sitting room; after which David rose and sank back into a chair, +for the strain had been a heavy one for him. + +Helen also sprang up as she gazed at the figure; the woman was foul +with every misery that disease and sin can bring upon a human +creature, her clothing torn to shreds and her face swollen and +stained. She was half delirious, and clawing about her with her +shrunken, quivering hands, so that Helen exclaimed in horror: "Oh +God, that is the most dreadful sight I have ever seen in my life!" + +"Come away," said the other, raising himself from the chair; "it is +not right that you should look at such things." + +But with Helen it was only a moment before her pity had overcome +every other emotion; she knelt down by the stranger and took one of +the cold hands and began chafing it. "Poor, poor woman!" she +exclaimed; "oh, what misery you must have suffered! David, what can +a woman do to be punished like this? It is fearful!" + +It was a strange picture which the two made at that moment, the +woman in her cruel misery, and the girl in her pure and noble +beauty. But Helen had no more thought of shrinking, for all her soul +had gone out to the unfortunate stranger, and she kept on trying to +bring her back to consciousness. "Oh, David," she said, "what can we +do to help her? It is too much that any human being should be like +this,--she would have died if we had not found her." And then as the +other opened her eyes and struggled to lift herself, Helen caught an +incoherent word and said, "I think she is thirsty, David; get some +water and perhaps that will help her. We must find some way to +comfort her, for this is too horrible to be. And perhaps it is not +her fault, you know,--who knows but perhaps some man may have been +the cause of it all? Is it not dreadful to think of, David?" + +So the girl went on; her back was turned to her husband, and she was +engrossed in her task of mercy, and did not see what he was doing. +She did not see that he had started forward in his chair and was +staring at the woman; she did not see him leaning forward, farther +and farther, with a strange look upon his face. But there was +something she did see at last, as the woman lifted herself again and +stared first at Helen's own pitying face, and then vaguely about the +room, and last of all gazing at David. Suddenly she stretched out +her arms to him and strove to rise, with a wild cry that made Helen +leap back in consternation:--"David! It's David!" + +And at the same instant David sprang up with what was almost a +scream of horror; he reeled and staggered backwards against the +wall, clutching with his hands at his forehead, his face a ghastly, +ashen gray; and as Helen sprang up and ran towards him, he sank down +upon his knees with a moan, gazing up into the air with a look of +agony upon his face. "My God! My God!" he gasped; "it is my Mary!" + +And Helen sank down beside him, clutching him by the arm, and +staring at him in terror. "David, David!" she whispered, in a hoarse +voice. But the man seemed not to hear her, so overwhelmed was he by +his own emotion. "It is Mary," he cried out again,--"it is my +Mary!--oh God, have mercy upon my soul!" And then a shudder passed +over him, and he buried his face in his arms and fell down upon the +floor, with Helen, almost paralyzed with fright, still clinging to +him. + +In the meantime the woman had still been stretching out her +trembling arms to him, crying his name again and again; as she sank +back exhausted the man started up and rushed toward her, clutching +her by the hand, and exclaiming frantically, "Mary, Mary, it is +I--speak to me!" But the other's delirium seemed to have returned, +and she only stared at him blankly. At last David staggered to his +feet and began pacing wildly up and down, hiding his face in his +hands, and crying helplessly, "Oh, God, that this should come to me +now! Oh, how can I bear it--oh, Mary, Mary!" + +He sank down upon the sofa again and burst into fearful sobbing; +Helen, who had still been kneeling where he left her, rushed toward +him and flung her arms about him, crying out, "David, David, what is +the matter? David, you will kill me; what is it?" + +And he started and stared at her wildly, clutching her arm. "Helen," +he gasped, "listen to me! I ruined that woman! Do you hear me?--do +you hear me? It was I who betrayed her--I who made her what she is! +_I--I!_ Oh, leave me,--leave me alone--oh, what can I do?" + +Then as the girl still clung to him, sobbing his name in terror, the +man went on, half beside himself with his grief, "Oh, think of +it--oh, how can I bear to know it and live? Twenty-three years +ago,--and it comes back to curse me now! And all these years I have been +living and forgetting it--and been happy, and talking of my +goodness--oh God, and this fearful madness upon the earth! And I +made it--I--and _she_ has had to pay for it! Oh, look at her, +Helen, look at her--think that that foulness is mine! She was +beautiful,--she was pure,--and she might have been happy, she would +have been good, but for me! Oh God in heaven, where can I hide +myself, what can I do?" + +Helen was still clutching at his arm, crying to him, "David, spare +me!" He flung her off in a mad frenzy, holding her at arm's length, +and staring at her with a fearful light in his eyes. "Girl, girl!" +he cried, "do you know who I am--do you know what I have done? This +girl was like you once, and I made her love me--made her love me +with the sacred fire that God had given me, made her love me as I +made _you_ love me! And she was beautiful like you--she was younger +than you, and as happy as you! And she trusted me as you trusted me, +she gave herself to me as you did, and I took her, and promised her +my love--and now look at her! Can you wish to be near me, can you +wish to see me? Oh, Helen, I cannot bear myself--oh, leave me, I +must die!" + +He sank down once more, weeping, all his form shaking with his +grief; Helen flung her arms about his neck again, but the man seemed +to forget her presence. "Oh, think where that woman has been," he +moaned; "think what she has seen, and done, and suffered--and what +she is! Was there ever such a wreck of womanhood, ever such a curse +upon earth? And, oh, for the years that she has lived in her fearful +sin, and I have been happy--great God, what can I do for those +years,--how can I live and gaze upon this crime of mine? I, who +sought for beauty, to have made this madness; and it comes now to +curse me, now, when it is too late; when the life is wrecked,--when +it is gone forever!" + +David's voice had sunk into a moan; and then suddenly he heard the +woman crying out, and he staggered to his feet. She was sitting up +again, her arms stretched out; David caught her in his own, gazing +into her face and crying, "Mary, Mary! Look at me! Here I am--I am +David, the David you loved." + +He stopped, gasping for breath, and the woman cried in a faint +voice, "Water, water!" David turned and called to Helen, and the +poor girl, tho scarcely able to stand, ran to get a glass of it; +another thought came to the man in the meantime, and he turned to +the other with a sudden cry. "If there were a child!" he gasped, "a +child of mine somewhere in the world, alone and helpless!" He stared +into the woman's eyes imploringly. + +She was gazing at him, choking and trying to speak; she seemed to be +making an effort to understand him, and as David repeated his +agonizing question she gave a sign of assent, causing a still wilder +look to cross the man's face. He called to her again to tell him +where; but the woman seemed to be sinking back into her raving, and +she only gasped faintly again for water. + +When Helen brought it they poured it down her throat, and then David +repeated his question once more; but he gave a groan as he saw that +it was all in vain; the wild raving had begun again, and the woman +only stared at him blankly, until at last the wretched man, quite +overcome, sank down at her side and buried his head upon her +shrunken bosom and cried like a child, poor Helen in the meantime +clinging to him still. + +It was only when David had quite worn himself out that he seemed to +hear her pleading voice; then he looked at her, and for the first +time through his own grief caught sight of hers. There was such a +look of helpless woe upon Helen's face that he put out his hand to +her and whispered faintly, "Oh, poor little girl, what have _you_ +done that you should suffer so?" As Helen drew closer to him, +clinging to his hand in fright, he went on, "Can you ever forgive me +for this horror--forgive me that I dared to forget it, that I dared +to marry you?" + +The girl's answer was a faint moan, "David, David, have mercy on +me!" He gazed at her for a moment, reading still more of her +suffering. + +"Helen," he asked, "you see what has come upon me--can you ask me +not to be wretched, can you ask me still to live? What can I do for +such a crime,--when I look at this wreck of a soul, what comfort can +I hope to find?" And the girl, her heart bursting with grief, could +only clasp his hands in hers and gaze into his eyes; there was no +word she could think of to say to him, and so for a long time the +two remained in silence, David again fixing his eyes upon the woman, +who seemed to be sinking into a kind of stupor. + +When he looked up once more it was because Helen was whispering in +his ear, a new thought having come to her, "David, perhaps _I_ might +be able to help you yet." + +The man replied in a faint, gasping voice, "Help me? How?" And the +girl answered, "Come with me," and rose weakly to her feet, half +lifting him also. He gazed at the woman and saw that she was lying +still, and then he did as Helen asked. She led him gently into the +other room, away from the fearful sight, and the two sat down, David +limp and helpless, so that he could only sink down in her arms with +a groan. "Poor, poor David," she whispered, in a voice of infinite +pity; "oh, my poor David!" + +"Then you do not scorn me, Helen?" the man asked in a faint, +trembling voice, and went on pleading with her, in words so abject +and so wretched that they wrung the girl's heart more than ever. + +"David, how can you speak to me so?" she cried, "you who are all my +life?" And then she added with swift intensity, "Listen to me, +David, it cannot be so bad as that, I know it! Will you not tell me, +David? Tell me all, so that I may help you!" So she went on pleading +with him gently, until at last the man spoke again, in faltering +words. + +"Helen," he said, "I was only a boy; God knows that is one excuse, +if it is the only one. I was only seventeen, and she was no more." + +"Who was she, David?" the girl asked. + +"She lived in a village across the mountains from here, near where +our home used to be. She was a farmer's daughter, and she was +beautiful--oh, to think that that woman was once a beautiful girl, +and innocent and pure! But we were young, we loved each other, and +we had no one to warn us; it was so long ago that it seems like a +dream to me now, but we sinned, and I took her for mine; then I went +home to tell my father, to tell him that she was my wife, and that I +must marry her. And oh, God, she was a farmer's daughter, and I was +a rich man's son, and the cursed world knows nothing of human souls! +And I must not marry her--I found all the world in arms against +it---" + +"And you let yourself be persuaded?" asked the girl, in a faint +whisper. + +"Persuaded?" echoed David, his voice shaking; "who would have +thought of persuading a mad boy? I let myself be commanded and +frightened into submission, and carried away. And then five or six +miserable months passed away and I got a letter from her, and she +was with child, and she was ruined forever,--she prayed to me in +words that have haunted me night and day all my life, to come to her +and keep my promise." + +And David stopped and gave a groan; the other whispered, "You could +not go?" + +"I went," he answered; "I borrowed money, begged it from one of my +father's servants, and ran away and went up there; and oh, I was two +days too late!" + +"Too late?" exclaimed Helen wonderingly. + +"Yes, yes," was the hoarse reply, "for she was a weak and helpless +girl, and scorned of all the world; and her parents had turned her +away, and she was gone, no one knew where. Helen, from that day to +this I have never seen her, nor ever heard of her; and now she comes +to curse me,--to curse my soul forever. And it is more than I can +bear, more than I can bear!" + +David sank down again, crying out, "It is too much, it is too much!" +But then suddenly he caught his wife's hand in his and stared up at +her, exclaiming, "And she said there was a child, Helen! Somewhere +in the world there is another soul suffering for this sin of mine! +Oh, somehow we must find out about that--something must be done, I +could not have two such fearful things to know of. We must find out, +we must find out!" + +As the man stopped and stared wildly about him he heard the woman's +voice again, and sprang up; but Helen, terrified at his suffering, +caught him by the arm, whispering, "No, no, David, let me go in, I +can take care of her." And she forced her husband down on the sofa +once more, and then ran into the next room. She found the woman +again struggling to raise herself upon her trembling arms, staring +about her and calling out incoherently. Helen rushed to her and took +her hands in hers, trying to soothe her again. + +But the woman staggered to her feet, oblivious of everything about +her. "Where is he? Where is he?" she gasped hoarsely; "he will come +back!" She began calling David's name, and a moment later, as Helen +tried to keep her quiet, she tore her hands loose and rushed blindly +across the room, shrieking louder yet, "David, where are you? Don't +you know me, David?" + +As Helen turned she saw that her husband had heard the cries and +come to the doorway again; but it was all in vain, for the woman, +though she looked at him, knew him no more; it was to a phantom of +her own brain that she was calling, in the meantime pacing up and +down, her voice rising higher and higher. She was reeling this way +and that, and Helen, frightened at her violence, strove to restrain +her, only to be flung off as if she had been a child; the woman +rushed on, groping about her blindly and crying still, "David! Tell +me where is David!" + +Then as David and Helen stood watching her in helpless misery her +delirious mood changed, and she clutched her hands over her bosom, +and shuddered, and moaned to herself, "It is cold, oh, it is cold!" +Afterwards she burst into frantic sobbing, that choked her and shook +all her frame; and again into wild peals of laughter; and then last +of all she stopped and sprang back, staring in front of her with her +whole face a picture of agonizing fright; she gave one wild scream +after another and staggered and sank down at last upon the floor. +"Oh, it is he, it is he!" she cried, her voice sinking into a +shudder; "oh, spare me,--why should you beat me? Oh God, have +mercy--have mercy!" Her cries rose again into a shriek that made +Helen's blood run cold; she looked in terror at her husband, and saw +that his face was white; in the meantime the wretched woman had +flung herself down prostrate upon the floor, where she lay groveling +and writhing. + +That again, however, was only for a minute or two; she staggered up +once more and rushed blindly across the room, crying, "I cannot bear +it, I cannot bear it! Oh, what have I done?" Then suddenly as she +flung up her arms imploringly and staggered blindly on, she lurched +forward and fell, striking her head against the corner of the table. + +Helen started forward with a cry of alarm, but before she had taken +half a dozen steps the woman had raised herself to her feet once +more, and was staring at her, blinded by the blood which poured from +a cut in her forehead. Her clothing was torn half from her, and her +tangled hair streamed from her shoulders; she was a ghastly sight to +behold, as, delirious with terror, she began once more rushing this +way and that about the room. The two who watched her were powerless +to help her, and could only drink in the horror of it all and +shudder, as with each minute the poor creature became more frantic +and more desperate. All the while it was evident that her strength +was fast leaving her; she staggered more and more, and at last she +sank down upon her knees. She strove to rise again and found that +she could not, but lurched and fell upon the floor; as she turned +over and Helen saw her face, the sight was too much for the girl's +self-control, and she buried her face in her hands and broke into +frantic sobbing. + +David in the meantime was crouching in the doorway, his gaze fixed +upon the woman; he did not seem even to notice Helen's outburst, so +lost was all his soul in the other sight. Fie saw that the +stranger's convulsive efforts were weakening, and he staggered +forward with a cry, and flung himself forward down on his knees +beside her. "Mary, Mary!" he called; but she did not heed him, tho +he clasped her hands and shook her, gazing into her face +imploringly. Her eyes were fixed upon him, but it was with a vacant +stare; and then suddenly he started back with a cry of +horror--"Great God, she is dying!" + +The woman made a sudden fearful effort to lift herself, struggling +and gasping, her face distorted with fierce agony; as it failed she +sank back, and lay panting hard for breath; then a shudder passed +over her, and while David still stared, transfixed, a hoarse rattle +came from her throat, and her features became suddenly set in their +dreadful passion. In a moment more all was still; and David buried +his face in his hands and sank down upon the corpse, without even a +moan. + +Afterwards, for a full minute there was not a sound in the room; +Helen's sobbing had ceased, she had looked up and sat staring at the +two figures,--until at last, with a sudden start of fright she +sprang up and crept silently toward them. She glanced once at the +woman's body, and then bent over David; as she felt that his heart +was still beating, she caught him to her bosom, and knelt thus in +terror, staring first into his white and tortured features, and then +at the body on the floor. + +Finally, however, she nerved herself, and tho she was trembling and +exhausted, staggered to her feet with her burden; holding it tightly +in her arms she went step by step, slowly and in silence out of the +room. When she had passed into the next one she shut the door and, +sinking down upon the sofa, lifted David's broken figure beside her +and locked it in her arms and was still. Thus she sat without a +sound or a motion, her heart within her torn with fear and pain, all +through the long hours of that night; when the cold, white dawn came +up, she was still pressing him to her bosom, sobbing and whispering +faintly, "Oh, David! Oh, my poor, poor David!" + + Hast du im Venusburg geweilt, So bist nun + ewig du verdammt! + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"Then said I, 'Woe is me! For I am undone;... for mine +eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.'" + +David's servant drove out early upon the following morning to tell +him of a strange woman who had been asking for him in the village; +they sent the man back for a doctor, and it was found that the poor +creature was really dead. + +They wished to take the body away, but David would not have it; and +so, late in the afternoon, a grave was dug by the lake-shore near +the little cottage, and what was left of Mary was buried there. +David was too exhausted to leave the house, and Helen would not stir +from his side, so the two sat in silence until the ceremony was +over, and the men had gone. The servant went with them, because the +girl said they wished to be alone; and then the house settled down +to its usual quietness,--a quietness that frightened Helen now. + +For when she looked at her husband her heart scarcely beat for her +terror; he was ghastly white, and his lips were trembling, and +though he had not shed a tear all the day, there was a look of +mournful despair on his face that told more fearfully than any words +how utterly the soul within him was beaten and crushed. All that day +he had been so, and as Helen remembered the man that had been before +so strong and eager and brare, her whole soul stood still with awe; +yet as before she could do nothing but cling to him, and gaze at him +with bursting heart. + +But at last when the hours had passed and not a move had been made, +she asked him faintly, "David, is there no hope? Is it to be like +this always?" + +The man raised his eyes and gazed at her helplessly. "Helen," he +said, his voice sounding hollow and strange, "what can you ask of +me? How can I bear to look about me again, how can I think of +living? Oh, that night of horror! Helen, it burns my brain--it +tortures my soul--it will drive me mad!" He buried his face in his +hands again, shaking with emotion. "Oh, I cannot ever forget it," he +whispered hoarsely; "it must haunt me, haunt me until I die! I must +know that after all my years of struggle it was this that I made, it +is this that stands for my life--and it is over, and gone from me +forever and finished! Oh, God, was there ever such a horror flashed +upon a guilty soul--ever such fiendish torture for a man to bear? +And Helen, there was a child, too--think how that thought must goad +me--a child of mine, and I cannot ever aid it--it must suffer for +its mother's shame. And think, if it were a woman, Helen--this +madness must go on, and go on forever! Oh, where am I to hide me; +and what can I do?" + +There came no tears, but only a fearful sobbing; poor Helen +whispered frantically, "David, it was not your fault, you could not +help it--surely you cannot be to blame for all this." + +He did not answer her, but after a long silence he went on in a +deep, low voice, "Helen, she was so beautiful! She has lived in my +thoughts all these years as the figure that I used to see, so bright +and so happy; I used to hear her singing in church, and the music +was a kind of madness to me, because I knew that she loved me. And +her home was a little farm-house, half buried in great trees, and I +used to see her there with her flowers. Now--oh, think of her +now--think of her life of shame and agony--think of her turned away +from her home, and from all she loved in the world,--deserted and +scorned, and helpless--think of her with child, and of the agony of +her degradation! What must she not have suffered to be as she was +last night--oh, are there tears enough in the world to pay for such +a curse, for that twenty years' burden of wretchedness and sin? And +she was beaten--oh, she was beaten--Mary, my poor, poor Mary! And to +die in such horror, in drunkenness and madness! And now she is gone, +and it is over; and oh, why should I live, what can I do?" + +His voice dropped into a moan, and then again there was a long +silence. At last Helen whispered, in a weak, trembling voice, +"David, you have still love; can that be nothing to you?" + +"I have no right to love," he groaned, "no right to love, and I +never had any. For oh, all my life this vision has haunted me--I +knew that nothing but death could have saved her from shame! Yes, +and I knew, too, that some day I must find her. I have carried the +terror of that in my heart all these years. Yet I dared to take your +love, and dared to fly from my sin; and then there comes this +thunderbolt--oh, merciful heaven, it is too much to bear, too much +to bear!" He sank down again; poor Helen could find no word of +comfort, no utterance of her own bursting heart except the same +frantic clasp of her love. + +So the day went by over that shattered life; and each hour the man's +despair grew more black, his grief and misery more hopeless. The +girl watched him and followed him about as if she had been a child, +but she could get him to take no food, and to divert his mind to +anything else she dared not even try. He would sit for hours +writhing in his torment, and then again he would spring up and pace +the room in agitation, though he was too weak to bear that very +long. Afterwards the long night came on, and all through it he lay +tossing and moaning, sometimes shuddering in a kind of paroxysm of +grief,--Helen, though she was weary and almost fainting, watching +thro the whole night, her heart wild with her dread. + +And so the morning came, and another day of misery; and in the midst +of it David flung himself down upon the sofa and buried his face in +his arms and cried out, "Oh God, my God, I cannot stand it, I cannot +stand it! Oh, let me die! I dare not lift my head--there is no hope +for me--there is no life for me--I dare not pray! It is more than I +can bear--I am beaten, I am lost forever!" And Helen fell down upon +her knees beside him, and tore away his hands from his face and +stared at him frantically, exclaiming, "David, it is too cruel! Oh, +have mercy upon me, David, if you love me!" + +He stopped and gazed long and earnestly into her face, and a look of +infinite pity came into his eyes; at last he whispered, in a low +voice, "Poor, poor little Helen; oh, Helen, God help you, what can I +do?" He paused and afterwards went on tremblingly, "What have you +done that you should suffer like this? You are right that it is too +cruel--it is another curse that I have to bear! For I knew that I +was born to suffering--I knew that my life was broken and dying--and +yet I dared to take yours into it! And now, what can I do to save +you, Helen; can you not see that I dare not live?" + +"David, it is you who are killing yourself," the girl moaned in +answer. He did not reply, but there came a long, long silence, in +which he seemed to be sinking still deeper; and when he went on it +was in a shuddering voice that made Helen's heart stop. "Oh, it is +no use," he gasped, "it is no use! Listen, Helen, there was another +secret that I kept from you, because it was too fearful; but I can +keep it no more, I can fight no more!" + +He stopped; the girl had clutched his arm, and was staring into his +face, whispering his name hoarsely. At last he went on in his cruel +despair, "I knew this years ago, too, and I knew that I was bringing +it upon you--the misery of this wretched, dying body. Oh, it +hurts--it hurts now!" And he put his hand over his heart, as a look +of pain came into his face. "It cannot stand much more, my heart," +he panted; "the time must come--they told me it would come years +ago! And then--and then--" + +The man stopped, because he was looking at Helen; she had not made a +sound, but her face had turned so white, and her lips were trembling +so fearfully that he dared not go on; she gave a loud, choking cry +and burst out wildly, "Oh, David--David--it is fiendish--you have +no right to punish me so! Oh, have mercy upon me, for you are +killing me! You have no right to do it, I tell you it is a crime; +you promised me your love, and if you loved me you would live for my +sake, you would think of me! A thing so cruel ought not to be--it +cannot be right--God could never have meant a human soul to suffer +so! And there must be pardon in the world, there must be light--it +cannot all be torture like this!" She burst into a flood of tears +and flung herself upon David's bosom, sobbing again and again, "Oh, +no, no, it is too fearful, oh, save me, save me!" + +He did not answer her; as she looked up at him again she saw the +same look of fearful woe, and read the cruel fact that there was no +help, that her own grief and pleadings were only deepening the man's +wretchedness. She stared at him for a long time; and when she spoke +to him again it was with a sudden start, and in a strange, ghastly +voice,--"And then, David, there is no God?" + +He trembled, but the words choked him as he tried to respond, and +his head dropped; then at last she heard him moan, "Oh, how can God +free my soul from this madness, how can he deliver me from such a +curse?" Helen could say no more--could only cling to him and sob in +her fright. + +So the day passed away, and another night came; and still the +crushed and beaten soul was writhing in its misery, lost in +blackness and despair; and still Helen read it all in his white and +tortured features, and drank the full cup of his soul's fiery pain. + +They took no heed of the time; but it was long after darkness had +fallen; and once when the girl had gone upstairs for a moment she +heard David pacing about, and then heard a stifled cry. She rushed +down, and stopped short in the doorway. For the man was upon his +knees, his face uplifted in wild entreaty. "Oh God, oh merciful +God!" he sobbed; "all the days of my life I have sought for +righteousness, labored and suffered to keep my soul alive! And oh, +was it all for this--was it to go down in blackness and night, to +die a beaten man, crushed and lost? Oh, I cannot bear it, I cannot +bear it! It cannot--it must not be!" + +He sank forward upon the sofa, and buried his head in his arms, and +the girl could hear his breathing in the stillness; at last she +crept across the room and knelt down beside him, and whispered +softly in his ear, "You do not give me your heart any more, David?" + +It was a long time before he answered her, and then it was to moan, +"Oh, Helen, my heart is broken, I can give it to no one. Once I had +strength and faith, and could love; but now I am lost and ruined, +and there is nothing that can save me. I dare not live, and I dare +not die, and I know not where to turn!" + +He started up suddenly, clasping his hands to his forehead and +staggering across the room, crying out, "Oh no, it cannot be, oh, it +cannot be! There must be some way of finding pardon, some way of +winning Tightness for a soul! Oh God, what can I do for peace?" But +then again he sank down and hid his face and sobbed out: "In the +face of this nightmare,--with this horror fronting me! _She_ cried +for pardon, and none came." + +After that there was a long silence, with Helen crouching in terror +by his side. She heard him groan: "It is all over, it is finished--I +can fight no more," and then again came stillness, and when she +lifted him and gazed into his face she knew not which was worse, the +silent helpless despair that was upon it, or the torment and the +suffering that had gone before. She tried still to soothe him, +begging and pleading with him to have mercy upon her. He asked her +faintly what he could do, and the poor girl, seeing how weak and +exhausted he was, could think of only the things of the body, and +begged him to try to rest. "It has been two nights since you have +slept, David," she whispered. + +"I cannot sleep with this burden upon my soul," he answered her; but +still she pleaded with him, begging him as he loved her; and he +yielded to her at last, and broken and helpless as he was, she half +carried him upstairs and laid him upon the bed as if he had been a +little child. That seemed to help little, however, for he only lay +tossing and moaning, "Oh, God, it must end; I cannot bear it!" + +Those were the last words Helen heard, for the poor girl was +exhausted herself, almost to fainting; she lay down, without +undressing, and her head had scarcely touched the pillow before she +was asleep. In the meantime, through the long night-watches David +lay writhing and crying out for help. + +The moon rose dim and red behind the mountains,--it had mounted +high in the sky, and the room was bright with it, when at last the +man rose from the bed and began swiftly pacing the room, still +muttering to himself. He sank down upon his knees by the window and +gazed up at the silent moon. Then again he rose and turned suddenly, +and after a hurried glance at Helen went to the door and passed out, +closing it silently behind him, and whispered to himself, half +deliriously, "Oh, great God, it must end! It must end!" + +It was more than an hour afterwards that the girl awakened from her +troubled sleep; she lay for an instant half dazed, trying to bring +back to her mind what had happened; and then she put out her hand +and discovered that her husband was no longer by her. She sat up +with a wild start, and at the same instant her ear was caught by a +sound outside, of footsteps pacing swiftly back and forth, back and +forth, upon the piazza. The girl leaped up with a stifled cry, and +ran out of the room and down the steps. The room below was still +half lighted by the flickering log-fire, and Helen's shadow loomed +up on the opposite wall as she rushed across the room and opened the +door. + +The gray light of dawn was just spreading across the lake, but the +girl noticed only one thing, her husband's swiftly moving figure. +She rushed to him, and as he heard her, he turned and stared at her +an instant as if dazed, and then staggered with a cry into her arms. +"David, David!" she exclaimed, "what is the matter?" Then as she +clasped him to her she found that his body was trembling +convulsively, and that his hand as she took it was hot like fire; +she called to him again in yet greater anxiety: "David, David! What +is it? You will kill me if you treat me so!" + +He answered her weakly, "Nothing, dear, nothing," and she caught him +to her, and turned and half carried him into the house. She +staggered into a chair with him, and then sat gazing in terror at +his countenance. For the man's forehead was burning and moist, and +his frame was shaking and broken; he was completely prostrated by +the fearful agitation that had possessed him. Helen cried to him +once more, but he could only pant, "Wait, wait," and sink back and +let his head fall upon her arm; he lay with his eyes closed, +breathing swiftly, and shuddering now and then. "It was God!" he +panted with a sudden start, his voice choking; "He has shown me His +face! He has set me free!" + +Then again for a long time he lay with heaving bosom, Helen +whispering to him pleadingly, "David, David!" As he opened his eyes, +the girl saw a wonderful look upon his face; and at last he began +speaking, in a low, shaking voice, and pausing often to catch his +breath: "Oh, Helen," he said, "it is all gone, but I won, and my +life's prayer has not been for nothing! I was never so lost, so +beaten; but all the time there was a voice in my soul that cried to +me to fight,--that there was glory enough in God's home for even me! +And oh, to-night it came--it came!" + +David sank back, and there was a long silence before he went on: "It +was wonderful, Helen," he whispered, "there has come nothing like it +to me in all my life; for I had never drunk such sorrow before, +never known such fearful need. It seems as if all the pent-up forces +of my nature broke loose in one wild, fearful surge, as if there was +a force behind me like a mighty, driving storm, that swept me on and +away, beyond self and beyond time, and out into the life of things. +It was like the surging of fierce music, it was the great ocean of +the infinite bursting its way into my heart. And it bore me on, so +that I was mad with it, so that I knew not where I was, only that I +was panting for breath, and that I could bear it no more and cried +out in pain!" + +David as he spoke had been lifting himself, the memory of his vision +taking hold of him once more; but then he sank down again and +whispered, "Oh, I have no more strength, I can do no more; but it +was God, and I am free!" + +He lay trembling and breathing fast again, but sinking back from his +effort and closing his eyes exhaustedly. After a long time he went +on in a faint voice, "I suppose if I had lived long ago that would +have been a vision of God's heaven; and yet there was not an instant +of it--even when I fell down upon the ground and when I struck my +hands upon the stones because they were numb and burning--when I +did not know just what it was, the surging passion of my soul flung +loose at last! It was like the voices of the stars and the +mountains, that whisper of that which is and which conquers, of That +which conquers without sound or sign; Helen, I thought of that +wonderful testament of Pascal's that has haunted me all my +lifetime,--those strange, wild, gasping words of a soul gone mad +with awe, and beyond all utterance except a cry,--'Joy, joy, tears +of joy!' And I thought of a still more fearful story, I thought that +it must have been such thunder-music that rang through the soul of +the Master and swept Him away beyond scorn and pain, so that the men +about Him seemed like jeering phantoms that He might scatter with +His hand, before the glory of vision in which it was all one to live +or die. Oh, it is that which has brought me my peace! God needs not +our help, but only our worship; and beside His glory all our guilt +is nothing, and there is no madness like our fear. And oh, if we can +only hold to that and fight for it, conquer all temptation and all +pain--all fear because we must die, and cease to be--" + +The man had clenched his hands again, and was lifting himself with +the wild look upon his countenance; he seemed to the girl to be +delirious, and she was shuddering, half with awe and half with +terror. She interrupted him in a sudden burst of alarm: "Yes, +yes,--but David, David, not now, not now--it is too much--you will +kill yourself!" + +"I can die," he panted, "I can die, but I cannot ever be mastered +again, never again be blind! Oh, Helen, all my life I have been lost +and beaten--beaten by my weakness and my fear; but this once, this +once I was free, this once I knew, and I lived; and now I can die +rejoicing! Listen to me, Helen; while I am here there can be no more +delaying,--no more weakness! Such sin and doubt as that of +yesterday must never conquer my soul again, I will not any more be +at the mercy of chance. I love you, Helen, God knows that I love you +with all my soul; and this much for love I will do, if God spares me +a day,--take you, and tear the heart out of you, if need be, but +only teach you to live, teach you to hold by this Truth. It is a +fearful thing, Helen; it is madness to me to know that at any +instant I may cease to be, and that you may be left alone in your +terror and your weakness. Oh, look at me,--look at me! There is no +more tempting fate, there is no more shirking the battle--there is +life, there is life to be lived! And it calls to you now,--_now!_ +And now you must win,--cost just what it may in blood and tears! You +have the choice between that and ruin, and before God you shall +choose the right! Listen to me, Helen--it is only prayer that can do +it, it is only by prayer that you can fight this fearful +battle--bring before you this truth of the soul, and hold on to +it,--hold on to it tho it kill you! For He was through all the ages, +His glory is of the skies; and we are but for an instant, and we +have to die; and this we must know, or we are lost! There comes +pain, and calls you back to fear and doubt; and you fight--oh, it is +a cruel fight, it is like a wild beast at your vitals,--but still +you hold on--you hold on!" + +The man had lifted himself with a wild effort, his hands clenched +and his teeth set. He had caught the girl's hands in his, and she +screamed in fear: "David, David! You will kill yourself!" + +"Yes, yes!" he answered, and rushed on, chokingly; "it is coming +just so; for I have just force enough left to win--just force enough +to save you,--and then it will rend this frame of mine in two! It +comes like a clutch at my heart--it blinds me, and the sky seems to +turn to fire----" + +He sank back with a gasp; Helen caught him to her bosom, exclaiming +frantically, "Oh, David, spare me--wait! Not now--you cannot bear +it--have mercy!" + +He lay for a long time motionless, seemingly half dazed; then he +whispered faintly, "Yes, dear, yes; let us wait. But oh, if you +could know the terror of another defeat, of sinking down and letting +one's self be bound in the old chains--I must not lose, Helen, I +dare not fail!" + +"Listen, David," whispered Helen, beginning suddenly with desperate +swiftness; "why should you fail? Why can you not listen to me, pity +me, wait until you are strong? You have won, you will not +forget--and is there no peace, can you not rest in this faith, and +fear no more?" The man seemed to Helen to be half out of his mind +for the moment; she was trying to manage him with a kind of frenzied +cunning. As she went on whispering and imploring she saw that +David's exhaustion was gradually overcoming him more and more, and +that he was sinking farther and farther back from his wild +agitation. At last after she had continued thus for a while he +closed his eyes and began breathing softly. "Yes, dear," he +whispered; "yes; I will be quiet. There has come to my soul to-night +a peace that is not for words; I can be still, and know that He is +God, and that He is holy." + +His voice dropped lower each instant, the girl in the meantime +soothing him and stroking his forehead and pleading with him in a +shuddering voice, her heart wild with fright. When at last he was +quite still, and the fearful vision, that had been like a nightmare +to her, was gone with all its storm and its madness, she took him +upon her lap, just as she had done before, and sat there clasping +him in her arms while the time fled by unheeded. It was long +afterwards--the sun was gleaming across the lake and in at the +window--before at last her trembling prayer was answered, and he +sank into an exhausted slumber. + +She sat watching him for a long time still, quite white with fear +and weariness; finally, however, she rose, and carrying the frail +body in her arms, laid it quietly upon the sofa in the next room. +She knelt watching it for a time, then went out upon the piazza, +closing the door behind her. + +And there the fearful tension that the dread of wakening him had put +upon her faculties gave way at last, and the poor girl buried her +face in her hands, and sank down, sobbing convulsively: "Oh, God, +oh, God, what can I do, how can I bear it?" She gazed about her +wildly, exclaiming, "I cannot stand it, and there is no one to help +me! What _can_ I do?" + +Perhaps it was the first real prayer that had ever passed Helen's +lips; but the burden of her sorrow was too great just then for her +to bear alone, even in thought. She leaned against the railing of +the porch with her arms stretched out before her imploringly, her +face uplifted, and the tears running down her cheeks; she poured out +one frantic cry, the only cry that she could think of:--"Oh, God, +have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me! I cannot bear it!" + +So she sobbed on, and several minutes passed, but there came to her +no relief; when she thought of David, of his breaking body and of +his struggling soul, it seemed to her as if she were caught in the +grip of a fiend, and that no power could save her. She could only +clasp her hands together and shudder, and whisper, "What shall I do, +what shall I do?" + +Thus it was that the time sped by; and the morning sun rose higher +in front of her, and shone down upon the wild and wan figure that +seemed like a phantom of the night. She was still crouching in the +same position, her mind as overwrought and hysterical as ever, when +a strange and unexpected event took place, one which seemed to her +at first in her state of fright like some delusion of her mind. + +Except for her own emotion, and for the faint sound of the waves +upon the shore, everything about her had been still; her ear was +suddenly caught, however, by the noise of a footstep, and she turned +and saw the figure of a man coming down the path from the woods; she +started to her feet, gazing in surprise. + +It was broad daylight then, and Helen could see the person plainly; +she took only one glance, and reeled and staggered back as if it +were a ghost at which she was gazing. She crouched by a pillar of +the porch, trembling like a leaf, and scarcely able to keep her +senses, leaning from side to side and peering out, with her whole +attitude expressive of unutterable consternation, and even fright. +At last when she had gazed until it was no longer possible for her +to think that she was the victim of madness, she stared suddenly up +into the air, and caught her forehead in her hands, at the same time +whispering to herself in an almost fainting voice: "Great heaven, +what can it mean? Can it be real--can it be true? _It is Arthur!_" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + I am Merlin + And I am dying, + "I am Merlin, + Who follow the Gleam." + +Helen stood gazing at the figure in utter consternation for at least +half a minute before she could find voice; then she bent forward and +called to him wildly--"Arthur!" + +It was the other's turn to be startled then, and he staggered +backward; as he gazed up at Helen his look showed plainly that he +too was half convinced that he was gazing at a phantom of his own +mind, and for a long time he stood, pressing his hands to his heart +and unable to make a sound or a movement. When finally he broke the +silence his voice was a hoarse whisper. "Helen," he panted, "what in +heaven's name are you doing here?" + +And then as the girl answered, "This is my home, Arthur," he gave +another start. + +"You live here with him?" he gasped. + +"With him?" echoed Helen in a low voice. "With whom, Arthur?" + +He answered, "With that Mr. Harrison." A look of amazement crossed +Helen's face, tho followed quickly by a gleam of comprehension. She +had quite forgotten that Arthur knew nothing about what she had +done. + +"Arthur," she said, "I did not marry Mr. Harrison;" then, seeing +that he was staring at her in still greater wonder, she went on +hastily: "It seems strange to go back to those old days now; but +once I meant to tell you all about it, Arthur." She paused for a +moment and then went on slowly: "All the time I was engaged to that +man I was wretched; and when I saw you the last time--that dreadful +time by the road--it was almost more than I could bear; so I took +back my wicked promise of marriage and came to see you and tell you +all about it." + +As the girl had been speaking the other had been staring at her with +a look upon his face that was indescribable, a look that was more +terror than anything else; he had staggered back, he grasped at a +tree to support himself. Helen saw the look and stopped, frightened +herself. + +"What is it, Arthur?" she cried; "what is the matter?" + +"You came to see me!" the other gasped hoarsely. "You came to see +me--and I--and I was gone!" + +"Yes, Arthur," said Helen; "you had gone the night before, and I +could not find you. Then I met this man that I loved, and you wrote +that you had torn the thought of me from your heart; and so---" + +Again Helen stopped, for the man had sunk backwards with a cry that +made her heart leap in fright. "Arthur!" she exclaimed, taking a +step towards him; and he answered her with a moan, stretching out +his arms to her. "Great God, Helen, that letter was a lie!" + +Helen stopped, rooted to the spot. "A lie?" she whispered faintly. + +"Yes, a lie!" cried the other with a sudden burst of emotion, +leaping up and starting towards her. "Helen, I have suffered the +tortures of hell! I loved you--I love you now!" + +The girl sprang back, and the blood rushed to her cheeks. Half +instinctively she drew her light dress more tightly about her; and +the other saw the motion and stopped, a look of despair crossing his +face. The two stood thus for fully a minute, staring at each other +wildly; then suddenly Arthur asked: "You love this man whom you have +married? You love him?" + +The girl answered, "Yes, I love him," and Arthur's arms dropped, and +his head sank forward. There was a look upon his face that tore +Helen's heart to see, so that for a moment or two she stood quite +dazed with this new terror. Then all at once, however, the old one +came back to her thoughts, and with a faint cry she started toward +her old friend, stretching out her arms to him and calling to him +imploringly. + +"Oh, Arthur," she cried, "have mercy upon me--do not frighten me +any more! Arthur, if you only knew what I have suffered, you would +pity me, you could not help it! You would not fling this burden of +your misery upon me too." + +The man fixed his eyes upon her and for the first time he seemed to +become aware of the new Helen, the Helen who had replaced the girl +he had known. He read in her ghastly white face some hint of what +she had been through, and his own look turned quickly to one of +wonder, and even awe. "Helen," he whispered, "are you ill?" + +"No, Arthur," she responded quickly, full of desperate hope as she +saw his change. "Not ill, but oh, so frightened. I have been more +wretched than you can ever dream. Can you not help me, Arthur, will +you not? I was almost despairing, I thought that my heart would +burst. Can you not be unselfish?" + +The man gazed at her at least a minute; and when he answered at +last, it was in a low, grave voice that was new to her. + +"I will do it, Helen," he said. "What is it?" + +The girl came toward him, her voice sinking. "We must not let him +hear us, Arthur," she whispered. Then as she gazed into his face she +added pathetically, "Oh, I cannot tell you how I have wished that I +might only have someone to sympathize with me and help me! I can +tell everything to you, Arthur." + +"You are not happy with your husband?" asked the other, in a +wondering tone, not able to guess what she meant. + +"Happy!" echoed Helen. "Arthur, he is ill, and I have been so +terrified! I feared that he was going to die; we have had such a +dreadful sorrow." She paused for a moment, and gazed about her +swiftly, and laying her finger upon her lips. "He is asleep now," +she went on, "asleep for the first time in three nights, and I was +afraid that we might waken him; we must not make a sound, for it is +so dreadful." + +She stopped, and the other asked her what was the matter. "It was +three nights ago," she continued, "and oh, we were so happy before +it! But there came a strange woman, a fearful creature, and she was +drunk, and my husband found her and brought her home. She was +delirious, she died here in his arms, while there was no one to help +her. The dreadful thing was that David had known this woman when she +was a girl--" + +Helen paused again, and caught her breath, for she had been speaking +very swiftly, shaken by the memory of the scene; the other put in, +in a low tone, "I heard all about this woman's death, Helen, and I +know about her--that was how I happen to be here." + +And the girl gave a start, echoing, "Why you happen to be here?" +Afterwards she added quickly, "Oh, I forgot to ask you about that. +What do you mean, Arthur?" + +He hesitated a moment before he answered her, speaking very slowly. +"It is so sad, Helen," he said, "it is almost too cruel to talk +about." He stopped again, and the girl looked at him, wondering; +then he went on to speak one sentence that struck her like a bolt of +lightning from the sky:--"Helen, that poor woman was my mother!" + +And Helen staggered back, almost falling, clutching her hands to her +forehead, and staring, half dazed. + +"Arthur," she panted, "Arthur!" + +He bowed his head sadly, answering, "Yes, Helen, it is dreadful--" + +And the girl leaped towards him, seizing him by the shoulders with a +thrilling cry; she stared into his eyes, her own glowing like fire. +"Arthur!" she gasped again, "Arthur!" + +He only looked at her wonderingly, as if thinking she was mad; until +suddenly she burst out frantically, "You are David's child! You are +David's child!" And then for fully half a minute the two stood +staring at each other, too much dazed to move or to make a sound. + +At last Arthur echoed the words, scarcely audibly, "David's child!" +and added, "David is your husband?" As Helen whispered "Yes" again, +they stood panting for breath. It was a long time before the girl +could find another word to speak, except over and over, "David's +child!" She seemed unable to realize quite what it meant, she seemed +unable to put the facts together. + +But then suddenly Arthur whispered: "Then it was your husband who +ruined that woman?" and as Helen answered "Yes," she grasped a +little of the truth, and also of Arthur's thought. She ran on +swiftly: "But oh, it was not his fault, he was only a boy, Arthur! +And he wished to marry her, but they would not let him--I must tell +you about that!" Then she stopped short, however; and when she went +on it was in sudden wild joy that overcame all her other feelings, +joy that gleamed in her face and made her fling herself down upon +her knees before Arthur and clutch his hands in hers. + +"Oh," she cried, "it was God who sent you, Arthur,--oh, I know that +it was God! It is so wonderful to think of--to have come to us all +in a flash! And it will save David's life--it was the thought of the +child and the fate that it might have suffered that terrified him +most of all, Arthur. And now to think that it is you--oh, you! And +you are David's son--I cannot believe it, I cannot believe it!" Then +with a wild laugh she sprang up again and turned, exclaiming, "Oh, +he will be so happy,--I must tell him--we must not lose an +instant!" + +She caught Arthur's hand again, and started towards the house; but +she had not taken half a dozen steps before she halted suddenly, and +whispered, "Oh, no, I forgot! He is asleep, and we must not waken +him now, we must wait!" + +And then again the laughter broke out over her face, and she turned +upon him, radiant. "It is so wonderful!" she cried. "It is so +wonderful to be happy, to be free once more! And after so much +darkness--oh, it is like coming out of prison! Arthur, dear Arthur, +just think of it! And David will be so glad!" The tears started into +the girl's eyes; she turned away to gaze about her at the golden +morning and to drink in great draughts of its freshness that made +her bosom heave. The life seemed to have leaped back into her face +all at once, and the color into her cheeks, and she was more +beautiful than ever. "To think of being happy!" she panted, "happy +again! Oh, if I were not afraid of waking David, you do not know how +happy I could be! Don't you think I ought to waken him anyway, +Arthur?--it is so wonderful--it will make him strong again! It is +so beautiful that you, whom I have always been so fond of, that you +should be David's son! And you can live here and be happy with us! +Arthur, do you know I used to think how much like David you looked, +and wonder at it; but, oh, are you sure it is true?" + +She chanced to think of the letter that had been left at her +father's, and exclaimed, "It must have been that! You have been +home, Arthur?" she added quickly. "And while father was up here?" + +"Yes," said he, "I wanted to see your father--I could not stay away +from home any longer. I was so very lonely and unhappy--" Arthur +stopped for a moment, and the girl paled slightly; as he saw it he +continued rapidly: "There was no one there but the servant, and she +gave me the letter." + +"And did she not tell you about me?" asked Helen. + +"I asked if you were married," Arthur said; "I would not listen to +any more, for I could not bear it; when I had read the letter I came +up here to look for my poor mother. I wanted to see her; I was as +lonely as she ever was, and I wanted someone's sympathy--even that +poor, beaten soul's. I heard in the town that she was dead; they +told me where the grave was, and that was how I happened out here. I +thought I would see it once before I left, and before the people who +lived in this house were awake. Helen, when I saw _you_ I thought it +was a ghost." + +"It is wonderful, Arthur," whispered the girl; "it is almost too +much to believe--but, oh, I can't think of anything except how happy +it will make David! I love him so, Arthur--and you will love him, +too, you cannot help but love him." + +"Tell me about it all, Helen," the other answered; "I heard nothing, +you know, about my poor mother's story." + +Before Helen answered the question she glanced about her at the +morning landscape, and for the first time thought of the fact that +it was cold. "Let us go inside," she said; "we can sit there and +talk until David wakens." And the two stole in, Helen opening the +door very softly. David was sleeping in the next room, so that it +was possible not to disturb him; the two sat down before the +flickering fire and conversed in low whispers. The girl told him the +story of David's love, and told him all about David, and Arthur in +turn told her how he had been living in the meantime; only because +he saw how suddenly happy she was, and withal how nervous and +overwrought, he said no more of his sufferings. + +And Helen had forgotten them utterly; it was pathetic to see her +delight as she thought of being freed from the fearful terror that +had haunted her,--she was like a little child in her relief. "He +will be so happy--he will be so happy!" she whispered again and +again. "We can all be so happy!" The thought that Arthur was +actually David's son was so wonderful that she seemed never to be +able to realize it fully, and every time she uttered the thought it +was a sweep of the wings of her soul. Arthur had to tell her many +times that it was actually Mary who had been named in that letter. + +So an hour or two passed by, and still David did not waken. Helen +had crept to the door once or twice to listen to his quiet +breathing; but each time, thinking of his long trial, she had +whispered that she could not bear to disturb him yet. However, she +was getting more and more impatient, and she asked Arthur again and +again, "Don't you think I ought to wake him now, don't you think +so--even if it is just for a minute, you know? For oh, he will be so +glad--it will be like waking up in heaven!" + +So it went on until at last she could keep the secret no longer; she +thought for a while, and then whispered, "I know what I will do--I +will play some music and waken him in that way. That will not alarm +him, and it will be beautiful." + +She went to the piano and sat down. "It will seem queer to be +playing music at this hour," she whispered; but then she glanced at +the clock and saw that it was nearly seven, and added, "Why, no, we +have often begun by this time. You know, Arthur, we used to get up +wonderfully early all summer, because it was so beautiful then, and +we used to have music at all sorts of times. Oh, you cannot dream +how happy we were,--you must wait until you see David, and then you +will know why I love him so!" + +She stopped and sat thoughtfully for a moment whispering, "What +shall I play?" Then she exclaimed, "I know, Arthur; I will play +something that he loves very much--and that you used to love, +too--something that is very soft and low and beautiful." + +Arthur had seated himself beside the piano and was gazing at her; +the girl sat still for a moment more, gazing ahead of her and +waiting for everything to be hushed. Then she began, so low as +scarcely to be audible, the first movement of the wonderful +"Moonlight Sonata." + +As it stole upon the air and swelled louder, she smiled, because it +was so beautiful a way to waken David. + +And yet there are few things in music more laden with concentrated +mournfulness than that sonata--with the woe that is too deep for +tears; as the solemn beating of it continued, in spite of themselves +the two found that they were hushed and silent. It brought back to +Helen's mind all of David's suffering--it seemed to be the very +breathing of his sorrow; and yet still she whispered on to herself, +"He will waken; and then he will be happy!" + +In the next room David lay sleeping. At first it had been heavily, +because he was exhausted, and afterwards, when the stupor had +passed, restlessly and with pain. Then at last came the music, +falling softly at first and blending with his dreaming, and +afterwards taking him by the hand and leading him out into the land +of reality, until he found himself lying and listening to it. As he +recollected all that had happened he gave a slight start and sat up, +wondering at the strangeness of Helen's playing then. He raised his +head, and then rose to call her. + +And at that instant came the blow. + +The man suddenly gave a fearful start; he staggered back upon the +sofa, clutching at his side with his hand, his face turning white, +and a look of wild horror coming over it. For an instant he held +himself up by the sofa, staring around him; and then he sank back, +half upon the floor, his head falling backwards. And so he lay +gasping, torn with agony, while the fearful music trod on, the +relentless throbbing of it like a hammer upon his soul. Twice he +strove to raise himself and failed; and twice he started to cry out, +and checked himself in terror; and so it went on until the place of +despair was reached, until there came that one note in the music +that is the plunge into night. Helen stopped suddenly there, and +everything was deathly still--except for the fearful heaving of +David's bosom. + +That silence lasted for several moments; Helen seemed to be waiting +and listening, and David's whole being was in suspense. Then +suddenly he gave a start, for he heard the girl coming to the door. + +With a gasp of dread he half raised himself, grasping the sofa with +his knotted hands. He slid down, half crawling and half falling, +into the corner, where he crouched, breathless and shuddering; so he +was when Helen came into the room. + +She did not see him on the sofa, and she gave a startled cry. She +wheeled about and gazed around the room. "Where can he be?" she +exclaimed. "He is not here!" and ran out to the piazza. Then came a +still more anxious call: "David! David! Where are you?" + +And in the meantime David was still crouching in the corner, his +face uplifted and torn with agony. He gave one fearful sob, and then +he sank forward; drawing himself by the sheer force of his arms he +crawled again into sight, and lay clinging to the sofa. Then he gave +a faint gasping cry, "Helen!" + +And the girl heard it, and rushed to the door; she gave one glance +at the prostrate form and at the white face, and then leaped forward +with a shrill scream, a scream that echoed through the little house, +and that froze Arthur's blood. She flung herself down on her knees +beside her husband, crying "David! David!" And the man looked up at +her with his ghastly face and his look of terror, and panted, +"Helen--Helen, it has come!" + +She screamed again more wildly than before, and caught him to her +bosom in frenzy. "No, no, David! No, no!" she cried out; but he only +whispered hoarsely again, "It has come!" + +Meanwhile Arthur had rushed into the room, and the two lifted the +sufferer up to the sofa, where he sank back and lay for a moment or +two, half dazed; then, in answer to poor Helen's agonized pleading, +he gazed at her once more. + +"David, David!" she sobbed, choking; "listen to me; it cannot be, +David, no, no! And see, here is Arthur--Arthur! And David--he is +your son, he is Mary's child!" + +The man gave a faint start and looked at her in bewilderment; then +as she repeated the words again, "He is your son, he is Mary's +child," gradually a look of wondering realization crossed his +countenance, and he turned and stared up at Arthur. + +"Is it true?" he whispered hoarsely. "There is no doubt?" + +Helen answered him "Yes, yes," again and again, swiftly and +desperately, as if thinking that the joy of it would restore his +waning strength. The thought did bring a wonderful look of peace +over David's face, as he gazed from one to the other and +comprehended it all; he caught Arthur's arm in his trembling hands. +"Oh, God be praised," he whispered, "it is almost too much. Oh, take +care of her--take care of her for me!" + +The girl flung herself upon his bosom, sobbing madly; and David sank +back and lay for an instant or two with his eyes shut, before at +last her suffering roused him again. He lifted himself up on his +elbows with a fearful effort. "Helen!" he whispered, in a deep, +hollow voice; "listen to me--listen to me!--I have only a minute +more to speak." + +The girl buried her head in his bosom with another cry, but he shook +her back and caught her by the wrists, at the same time sitting +erect, a strain that made the veins in his temples start out. "Look +at me!" he gasped. "Look at me!" and as the girl stared into his +eyes that were alive with the last frenzied effort of his soul, he +went on, speaking with fierce swiftness and panting for breath +between each phrase: + +"Helen--Helen--listen to me--twenty years I have kept myself alive +on earth by such a struggle--by the power of a will that would not +yield! And now there is but an instant more--an instant--I cannot +bear it--except to save your soul! For I am going--do you hear +me--going! And you must stay,--and you have the battle for your life +to fight! Listen to me--look into my eyes,--for you must call up +your powers--_now_--now before it is too late! You cannot shirk +it--do you hear me? It is here!" + +And as the man was speaking the frenzied words the look of a tiger +had come into his face; his eyes were starting from his head, and he +held Helen's wrists in a grip that turned them black, tho then she +did not feel the pain. She was gazing into his face, convulsed with +fright; and the man gasped for breath once more, and then rushed on: + +"A fight like this conies once to a soul, Helen--and it wins or it +loses--and you must win! Do you hear me?--_Win!_ I am dying, Helen, +I am going--and I leave you to God, and to life. He is, He made +you, and He demands your worship and your faith--that you hold your +soul lord of all chances, that you make yourself master of your +life! And now is your call--now! You clench your hands and you +pray--it tears your heart-strings, and it bursts your brain--but you +say that you will--that you will--that you _will!_ Oh, God, that I +have left you so helpless--that I did not show you the peril of your +soul! For you _must_ win--oh, if I could but find a word for you! +For you stand upon the brink of ruin, and you have but an +instant--but an instant to save yourself--to call up the vision of +your faith before you, and tho the effort kill you, not to let it +go! Girl, if you fail, no power of earth or heaven can save you from +despair! And oh, have I lived with you for nothing--showed you no +faith--given you no power? Helen, save me--have mercy upon me, I +cannot stand this, and I dare not--I dare not die!" + +The man was leaning forward, gazing into the girl's face, his own +countenance fearful to see. "I could die," he gasped; "I could die +with a song--He has shown me His face--and He is good! But I dare +not leave you--you--and I am going! Helen! Helen!" + +The man's fearful force seemed to have been acting upon the girl +like magnetism, for tho the look of wild suffering had not left her +face, she had raised herself and was staring into his burning eyes; +then suddenly, with an effort that shook her frame she clenched her +hands and gave a gasp for breath, and panted, scarcely audibly: +"What--can--I--do?" + +David's head had sunk, but he mastered himself once more; and he +whispered, "I leave you to God--I leave you to life! You can be a +soul,--you can win--you _must_ win, you must _live_--and +worship--and rejoice! You must kneel here--here, while I am going, never +more to return; and you must know that you can never see me again, that +I shall no longer exist; and you must cling to your faith in the God who +made you, and praise Him for all that He does! And you will not shed a +tear--not a tear!" + +And his grip tightened yet more desperately; he stared in one last +wild appeal, and gasped again, "Promise me--not a tear!" + +And again the throbbing force of his soul roused the girl; she could +not speak, she was choking; but she gave a sign of assent, and then +all at once David's fearful hold relaxed. He gave one look more, one +that stamped itself upon Helen's soul forever by its fearful +intensity of yearning; and after it he breathed a sigh that seemed +to pant out the last mite of strength in his frame, and sank +backwards upon the sofa, with Helen still clinging to him. + +There for an instant or two he lay, breathing feebly; and the girl +heard a faint whisper again--"Not a tear--not a tear!" He opened +his eyes once more and gazed at her dimly, and then a slight +trembling shook his frame. His chest heaved once more and sank, and +after it everything was still. + +For an instant Helen stared at him, dazed; then she clutched him by +the shoulders, whispering hoarsely-then calling louder and louder in +frenzied terror, "David, David!" He gave no answer, and with a cry +that was fearful to hear the girl clutched him to her. The body was +limp and lifeless--the head fell forward as if the neck were +broken; and Helen staggered backward with a scream. + +There came an instant of fierce agony then; she stood in the center +of the room, reeling and swaying, clutching her head in her hands, +her face upturned and tortured. And first she gasped, "He is dead!" +and then "I shall not ever see him again!" And she choked and +swallowed a lump in her throat, whispering in awful terror, "Not a +tear--not a tear!" And then she flung up her arms and sank forward +with an incoherent cry, and fell senseless into Arthur's arms. + +A week had passed since David's death; and Helen was in her father's +home once more, sitting by the window in the gathering twilight. She +was yery pale, and her eyes were sunken and hollow; but the beauty +of her face was still there, tho in a strange and terrible way. Her +hand was resting upon Arthur's, and she was gazing into his eyes and +speaking in a deep, solemn voice. + +"It will not ever leave me, Arthur, I know it will not ever leave +me; it is like a fearful vision that haunts me night and day, a +voice that cries out in my soul and will not let me rest; and I know +I shall never again be able to live like other people, never be free +from its madness. For oh, I do not think it is often that a human +soul sees what I saw--he seemed to drag me out into the land of +death with him, into the very dwelling-place of God. And I almost +went with him, Arthur, almost! Can you dream what I suffered--have +you any idea of what it means to a human being to make such an +effort? I loved that man as if he had been my own soul; I was bound +to him so that he was all my life, and to have him go was like +tearing my heart in two; and he had told me that I should never see +him again, that there was nothing to look for beyond death. And yet, +Arthur, I won--do you ever realize it?--I won. It seemed to me as if +the earth were reeling about me--as if the very air I breathed were +fire; and oh, I thought that he was dead--that he was gone from me +forever, and I believed that I was going mad! And then, Arthur, +those awful words of his came ringing through my mind, 'Not a tear, +not a tear!' I had no faith, I could see nothing but that the world +was black with horror; and yet I heard those words! It was love--it +was even fear, I think, that held me to it; I had worshiped his +sacredness, I had given all my soul to the wonder of his soul; and I +dared not be false to him--I dared not dishonor him,--and I knew +that he had told me that grief was a crime, that there was truth in +the world that I might cling to. And oh, Arthur, I won it--I won it! +I kept the faith--David's faith; and it is still alive upon the +earth. It seems to me almost as if I had won his soul from death--as +if I had saved his spirit in mine-as if I could still rejoice in his +life, still have his power and his love; and there is a kind of +fearful consecration in my heart, a glory that I am afraid to know +of, as if God's hand had been laid upon me. + +"David used to tell me, Arthur, that if only that power is roused in +a soul, if only it dwells in that sacredness, there can no longer be +fear or evil in its life; that the strife and the vanity and the +misery in this cruel world about us come from nothing else but that +men do not know this vision, that it is so hard--so dreadfully +hard--to win. And he used to say that this power is infinite, that +it depends only upon how much one wants it; and that he who +possessed it had the gift of King Midas, and turned all things that +he touched to gold. That is real madness to me, Arthur, and will not +let me be still; and yet I know that it cannot ever die in me; for +whenever there is an instant's weakness there flashes over me again +the fearful thought of David, that he is gone back into nothingness, +that nowhere can I ever see him, ever hear his voice or speak to him +again,-that I am alone-alone! And that makes me clench my hands and +nerve my soul, and fight again, and still again! Arthur, I did that +for days, and did not once know why-only because David had told me +to, because I was filled with a fearful terror of proving a coward +soul, because I had heard him say that if one only held the faith +and prayed, the word would come to him at last. And it was true--it +was true, Arthur; it was like the tearing apart of the skies, it was +as if I had rent my way through them. I saw, as I had never dreamed +I could see when I heard David speak of it, how God's Presence is +infinite and real; how it guides the blazing stars, and how our life +is but an instant and is nothing beside it; and how it makes no +difference that we pass into nothingness--His glory is still the +same. Then I saw too what a victory I had won, Arthur,--how I could +live in it, and how I was free, and master of my life; there came +over me a feeling for which there is no word, a kind of demon force +that was madness. I thought of that wonderful sixth chapter of +Isaiah that David used to think so much beyond reading, that he used +to call the artist's chapter; and oh, I knew just what it was that I +had to do in the world!" + +Helen had been speaking very intensely, her voice shaking; the +other's gaze was riveted upon her face. "Arthur," she added, her +voice sinking to a whisper, "I have no art, but you have; and we +must fight together for this fearful glory, we must win this prize +of God." And for a long time the two sat in silence, trembling, +while the darkness gathered about them. Helen had turned her head, +and gazed out, with face uplifted, at the starry shield that +quivered and shook above them; suddenly Arthur saw her lips moving +again, and heard her speaking the wonderful words that she had +referred to,--her voice growing more and more intense, and sinking +into a whisper of awe:-- + +"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw also the Lord sitting upon +a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. + +"Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he +covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain +he did fly. + +"And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord +of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory. + +"And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and +the house was filled with smoke. + +"Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of +unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: +for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts. + +"Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a living coal in his +hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: + +"And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy +lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged. + +"Also I heard the Voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and +who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me." + +THE END + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of King Midas, by Upton Sinclair + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KING MIDAS *** + +***** This file should be named 4923.txt or 4923.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/9/2/4923/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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