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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/993-0.txt b/993-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bff0781 --- /dev/null +++ b/993-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5405 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +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: Malbone + An Oldport Romance + +Author: Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +Posting Date: July 27, 2008 [EBook #993] +Release Date: July 1997 +Last Updated: November 8, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss + + + + + +MALBONE + +AN OLDPORT ROMANCE. + + +By Thomas Wentworth Higginson + + + “What is Nature unless there is an eventful human life + passing within her? + + Many joys and many sorrows are the lights and shadows in + which she shows most beautiful.” + + --THOREAU, MS. Diary. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PRELUDE + I. AN ARRIVAL + II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE + IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION + V. A MULTIVALVE HEART + VI. “SOME LOVER’S CLEAR DAY” + VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION + VIII. TALKING IT OVER + IX. DANGEROUS WAYS + X. REMONSTRANCES + XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI + XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT + XIII. DREAMING DREAMS + XIV. THE NEMESIS OF FASHION + XV. ACROSS THE BAY + XVI. ON THE STAIRS + XVII. DISCOVERY + XVIII. HOPE’S VIGIL + XIX. DE PROFUNDIS + XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE + XXI. A STORM + XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS + XXIII. REQUIESCAT + + + + +MALBONE. + + + + +PRELUDE. + +AS one wanders along this southwestern promontory of the Isle of Peace, +and looks down upon the green translucent water which forever bathes the +marble slopes of the Pirates’ Cave, it is natural to think of the ten +wrecks with which the past winter has strewn this shore. Though almost +all trace of their presence is already gone, yet their mere memory lends +to these cliffs a human interest. Where a stranded vessel lies, thither +all steps converge, so long as one plank remains upon another. There +centres the emotion. All else is but the setting, and the eye sweeps +with indifference the line of unpeopled rocks. They are barren, till the +imagination has tenanted them with possibilities of danger and dismay. +The ocean provides the scenery and properties of a perpetual tragedy, +but the interest arrives with the performers. Till then the shores +remain vacant, like the great conventional armchairs of the French +drama, that wait for Rachel to come and die. + +Yet as I ride along this fashionable avenue in August, and watch the +procession of the young and fair,--as I look at stately houses, from +each of which has gone forth almost within my memory a funeral or a +bride,--then every thoroughfare of human life becomes in fancy but an +ocean shore, with its ripples and its wrecks. One learns, in growing +older, that no fiction can be so strange nor appear so improbable as +would the simple truth; and that doubtless even Shakespeare did but +timidly transcribe a few of the deeds and passions he had personally +known. For no man of middle age can dare trust himself to portray +life in its full intensity, as he has studied or shared it; he must +resolutely set aside as indescribable the things most worth describing, +and must expect to be charged with exaggeration, even when he tells the +rest. + + + + +I. AN ARRIVAL. + +IT was one of the changing days of our Oldport midsummer. In the morning +it had rained in rather a dismal way, and Aunt Jane had said she should +put it in her diary. It was a very serious thing for the elements when +they got into Aunt Jane’s diary. By noon the sun came out as clear and +sultry as if there had never been a cloud, the northeast wind died away, +the bay was motionless, the first locust of the summer shrilled from the +elms, and the robins seemed to be serving up butterflies hot for their +insatiable second brood, while nothing seemed desirable for a human +luncheon except ice-cream and fans. In the afternoon the southwest wind +came up the bay, with its line of dark-blue ripple and its delicious +coolness; while the hue of the water grew more and more intense, till we +seemed to be living in the heart of a sapphire. + +The household sat beneath the large western doorway of the old Maxwell +House,--he rear door, which looks on the water. The house had just been +reoccupied by my Aunt Jane, whose great-grandfather had built it, though +it had for several generations been out of the family. I know no finer +specimen of those large colonial dwellings in which the genius of Sir +Christopher Wren bequeathed traditions of stateliness to our democratic +days. Its central hall has a carved archway; most of the rooms have +painted tiles and are wainscoted to the ceiling; the sashes are +red-cedar, the great staircase mahogany; there are pilasters with +delicate Corinthian capitals; there are cherubs’ heads and wings that go +astray and lose themselves in closets and behind glass doors; there are +curling acanthus-leaves that cluster over shelves and ledges, and there +are those graceful shell-patterns which one often sees on old furniture, +but rarely in houses. The high front door still retains its Ionic +cornice; and the western entrance, looking on the bay, is surmounted +by carved fruit and flowers, and is crowned, as is the roof, with +that pineapple in whose symbolic wealth the rich merchants of the last +century delighted. + +Like most of the statelier houses in that region of Oldport, this abode +had its rumors of a ghost and of secret chambers. The ghost had +never been properly lionized nor laid, for Aunt Jane, the neatest +of housekeepers, had discouraged all silly explorations, had at once +required all barred windows to be opened, all superfluous partitions to +be taken down, and several highly eligible dark-closets to be nailed up. +If there was anything she hated, it was nooks and odd corners. Yet there +had been times that year, when the household would have been glad to +find a few more such hiding-places; for during the first few weeks the +house had been crammed with guests so closely that the very mice had +been ill-accommodated and obliged to sit up all night, which had caused +them much discomfort and many audible disagreements. + +But this first tumult had passed away; and now there remained only the +various nephews and nieces of the house, including a due proportion of +small children. Two final guests were to arrive that day, bringing +the latest breath of Europe on their wings,--Philip Malbone, Hope’s +betrothed; and little Emilia, Hope’s half-sister. + +None of the family had seen Emilia since her wandering mother had taken +her abroad, a fascinating spoiled child of four, and they were all eager +to see in how many ways the succeeding twelve years had completed or +corrected the spoiling. As for Philip, he had been spoiled, as Aunt Jane +declared, from the day of his birth, by the joint effort of all friends +and neighbors. Everybody had conspired to carry on the process except +Aunt Jane herself, who directed toward him one of her honest, steady, +immovable dislikes, which may be said to have dated back to the time +when his father and mother were married, some years before he personally +entered on the scene. + +The New York steamer, detained by the heavy fog of the night before, now +came in unwonted daylight up the bay. At the first glimpse, Harry and +the boys pushed off in the row-boat; for, as one of the children said, +anybody who had been to Venice would naturally wish to come to the very +house in a gondola. In another half-hour there was a great entanglement +of embraces at the water-side, for the guests had landed. + +Malbone’s self-poised easy grace was the same as ever; his +chestnut-brown eyes were as winning, his features as handsome; his +complexion, too clearly pink for a man, had a sea bronze upon it: he was +the same Philip who had left home, though with some added lines of care. +But in the brilliant little fairy beside him all looked in vain for the +Emilia they remembered as a child. Her eyes were more beautiful than +ever,--the darkest violet eyes, that grew luminous with thought and +almost black with sorrow. Her gypsy taste, as everybody used to call it, +still showed itself in the scarlet and dark blue of her dress; but the +clouded gypsy tint had gone from her cheek, and in its place shone a +deep carnation, so hard and brilliant that it appeared to be enamelled +on the surface, yet so firm and deep-dyed that it seemed as if not even +death could ever blanch it. There is a kind of beauty that seems made to +be painted on ivory, and such was hers. Only the microscopic pencil of +a miniature-painter could portray those slender eyebrows, that arched +caressingly over the beautiful eyes,--or the silky hair of darkest +chestnut that crept in a wavy line along the temples, as if longing to +meet the brows,--or those unequalled lashes! “Unnecessarily long,” Aunt +Jane afterwards pronounced them; while Kate had to admit that they did +indeed give Emilia an overdressed look at breakfast, and that she ought +to have a less showy set to match her morning costume. + +But what was most irresistible about Emilia,--that which we all noticed +in this interview, and which haunted us all thenceforward,--was a +certain wild, entangled look she wore, as of some untamed out-door +thing, and a kind of pathetic lost sweetness in her voice, which made +her at once and forever a heroine of romance with the children. Yet +she scarcely seemed to heed their existence, and only submitted to the +kisses of Hope and Kate as if that were a part of the price of coming +home, and she must pay it. + +Had she been alone, there might have been an awkward pause; for if you +expect a cousin, and there alights a butterfly of the tropics, what +hospitality can you offer? But no sense of embarrassment ever came near +Malbone, especially with the children to swarm over him and claim him +for their own. Moreover, little Helen got in the first remark in the way +of serious conversation. + +“Let me tell him something!” said the child. “Philip! that doll of mine +that you used to know, only think! she was sick and died last summer, +and went into the rag-bag. And the other split down the back, so there +was an end of her.” + +Polar ice would have been thawed by this reopening of communication. +Philip soon had the little maid on his shoulder,--the natural throne of +all children,--and they went in together to greet Aunt Jane. + +Aunt Jane was the head of the house,--a lady who had spent more than +fifty years in educating her brains and battling with her ailments. She +had received from her parents a considerable inheritance in the way of +whims, and had nursed it up into a handsome fortune. Being one of +the most impulsive of human beings, she was naturally one of the most +entertaining; and behind all her eccentricities there was a fund of the +soundest sense and the tenderest affection. She had seen much and varied +society, had been greatly admired in her youth, but had chosen to remain +unmarried. Obliged by her physical condition to make herself the first +object, she was saved from utter selfishness by sympathies as democratic +as her personal habits were exclusive. Unexpected and commonly fantastic +in her doings, often dismayed by small difficulties, but never by large +ones, she sagaciously administered the affairs of all those around +her,--planned their dinners and their marriages, fought out their +bargains and their feuds. + +She hated everything irresolute or vague; people might play at +cat’s-cradle or study Spinoza, just as they pleased; but, whatever +they did, they must give their minds to it. She kept house from an +easy-chair, and ruled her dependants with severity tempered by wit, and +by the very sweetest voice in which reproof was ever uttered. She never +praised them, but if they did anything particularly well, rebuked them +retrospectively, asking why they had never done it well before? But she +treated them munificently, made all manner of plans for their comfort, +and they all thought her the wisest and wittiest of the human race. So +did the youths and maidens of her large circle; they all came to see +her, and she counselled, admired, scolded, and petted them all. She had +the gayest spirits, and an unerring eye for the ludicrous, and she spoke +her mind with absolute plainness to all comers. Her intuitions were +instantaneous as lightning, and, like that, struck very often in +the wrong place. She was thus extremely unreasonable and altogether +charming. + +Such was the lady whom Emilia and Malbone went up to greet,--the one +shyly, the other with an easy assurance, such as she always disliked. +Emilia submitted to another kiss, while Philip pressed Aunt Jane’s hand, +as he pressed all women’s, and they sat down. + +“Now begin to tell your adventures,” said Kate. “People always tell +their adventures till tea is ready.” + +“Who can have any adventures left,” said Philip, “after such letters as +I wrote you all?” + +“Of which we got precisely one!” said Kate. “That made it such an event, +after we had wondered in what part of the globe you might be looking +for the post-office! It was like finding a letter in a bottle, or +disentangling a person from the Dark Ages.” + +“I was at Neuchatel two months; but I had no adventures. I lodged with a +good Pasteur, who taught me geology and German.” + +“That is suspicious,” said Kate. “Had he a daughter passing fair?” + +“Indeed he had.” + +“And you taught her English? That is what these beguiling youths always +do in novels.” + +“Yes.” + +“What was her name?” + +“Lili.” + +“What a pretty name! How old was she?” + +“She was six.” + +“O Philip!” cried Kate; “but I might have known it. Did she love you +very much?” + +Hope looked up, her eyes full of mild reproach at the possibility of +doubting any child’s love for Philip. He had been her betrothed for more +than a year, during which time she had habitually seen him wooing every +child he had met as if it were a woman,--which, for Philip, was saying +a great deal. Happily they had in common the one trait of perfect +amiability, and she knew no more how to be jealous than he to be +constant. + +“Lili was easily won,” he said. “Other things being equal, people of six +prefer that man who is tallest.” + +“Philip is not so very tall,” said the eldest of the boys, who was +listening eagerly, and growing rapidly. + +“No,” said Philip, meekly. “But then the Pasteur was short, and his +brother was a dwarf.” + +“When Lili found that she could reach the ceiling from Mr. Malbone’s +shoulder,” said Emilia, “she asked no more.” + +“Then you knew the pastor’s family also, my child,” said Aunt Jane, +looking at her kindly and a little keenly. + +“I was allowed to go there sometimes,” she began, timidly. + +“To meet her American Cousin,” interrupted Philip. “I got some +relaxation in the rules of the school. But, Aunt Jane, you have told us +nothing about your health.” + +“There is nothing to tell,” she answered. “I should like, if it were +convenient, to be a little better. But in this life, if one can walk +across the floor, and not be an idiot, it is something. That is all I +aim at.” + +“Isn’t it rather tiresome?” said Emilia, as the elder lady happened to +look at her. + +“Not at all,” said Aunt Jane, composedly. “I naturally fall back into +happiness, when left to myself.” + +“So you have returned to the house of your fathers,” said Philip. “I +hope you like it.” + +“It is commonplace in one respect,” said Aunt Jane. “General Washington +once slept here.” + +“Oh!” said Philip. “It is one of that class of houses?” + +“Yes,” said she. “There is not a village in America that has not half +a dozen of them, not counting those where he only breakfasted. Did +ever man sleep like that man? What else could he ever have done? Who +governed, I wonder, while he was asleep? How he must have travelled! The +swiftest horse could scarcely have carried him from one of these houses +to another.” + +“I never was attached to the memory of Washington,” meditated Philip; +“but I always thought it was the pear-tree. It must have been that he +was such a very unsettled person.” + +“He certainly was not what is called a domestic character,” said Aunt +Jane. + +“I suppose you are, Miss Maxwell,” said Philip. “Do you often go out?” + +“Sometimes, to drive,” said Aunt Jane. “Yesterday I went shopping with +Kate, and sat in the carriage while she bought under-sleeves enough +for a centipede. It is always so with that child. People talk about the +trouble of getting a daughter ready to be married; but it is like being +married once a month to live with her.” + +“I wonder that you take her to drive with you,” suggested Philip, +sympathetically. + +“It is a great deal worse to drive without her,” said the impetuous +lady. “She is the only person who lets me enjoy things, and now I +cannot enjoy them in her absence. Yesterday I drove alone over the three +beaches, and left her at home with a dress-maker. Never did I see so +many lines of surf; but they only seemed to me like some of Kate’s +ball-dresses, with the prevailing flounces, six deep. I was so enraged +that she was not there, I wished to cover my face with my handkerchief. +By the third beach I was ready for the madhouse.” + +“Is Oldport a pleasant place to live in?” asked Emilia, eagerly. + +“It is amusing in the summer,” said Aunt Jane, “though the society is +nothing but a pack of visiting-cards. In winter it is too dull for young +people, and only suits quiet old women like me, who merely live here to +keep the Ten Commandments and darn their stockings.” + +Meantime the children were aiming at Emilia, whose butterfly looks +amazed and charmed them, but who evidently did not know what to do with +their eager affection. + +“I know about you,” said little Helen; “I know what you said when you +were little.” + +“Did I say anything?” asked Emilia, carelessly. + +“Yes,” replied the child, and began to repeat the oft-told domestic +tradition in an accurate way, as if it were a school lesson. “Once you +had been naughty, and your papa thought it his duty to slap you, and you +cried; and he told you in French, because he always spoke French with +you, that he did not punish you for his own pleasure. Then you stopped +crying, and asked, ‘Pour le plaisir de qui alors?’ That means ‘For whose +pleasure then?’ Hope said it was a droll question for a little girl to +ask.” + +“I do not think it was Emilia who asked that remarkable question, little +girl,” said Kate. + +“I dare say it was,” said Emilia; “I have been asking it all my life.” + Her eyes grew very moist, what with fatigue and excitement. But just +then, as is apt to happen in this world, they were all suddenly recalled +from tears to tea, and the children smothered their curiosity in +strawberries and cream. + +They sat again beside the western door, after tea. The young moon came +from a cloud and dropped a broad path of glory upon the bay; a black +yacht glided noiselessly in, and anchored amid this tract of splendor. +The shadow of its masts was on the luminous surface, while their +reflection lay at a different angle, and seemed to penetrate far below. +Then the departing steamer went flashing across this bright realm with +gorgeous lustre; its red and green lights were doubled in the paler +waves, its four reflected chimneys chased each other among the reflected +masts. This jewelled wonder passing, a single fishing-boat drifted +silently by, with its one dark sail; and then the moon and the anchored +yacht were left alone. + +Presently some of the luggage came from the wharf. Malbone brought +out presents for everybody; then all the family went to Europe in +photographs, and with some reluctance came back to America for bed. + + + + +II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + +IN every town there is one young maiden who is the universal favorite, +who belongs to all sets and is made an exception to all family feuds, +who is the confidante of all girls and the adopted sister of all young +men, up to the time when they respectively offer themselves to her, and +again after they are rejected. This post was filled in Oldport, in those +days, by my cousin Kate. + +Born into the world with many other gifts, this last and least definable +gift of popularity was added to complete them all. Nobody criticised +her, nobody was jealous of her, her very rivals lent her their new music +and their lovers; and her own discarded wooers always sought her to be a +bridesmaid when they married somebody else. + +She was one of those persons who seem to have come into the world +well-dressed. There was an atmosphere of elegance around her, like a +costume; every attitude implied a presence-chamber or a ball-room. The +girls complained that in private theatricals no combination of disguises +could reduce Kate to the ranks, nor give her the “make-up” of a +waiting-maid. Yet as her father was a New York merchant of the +precarious or spasmodic description, she had been used from childhood +to the wildest fluctuations of wardrobe;--a year of Paris dresses,--then +another year spent in making over ancient finery, that never looked like +either finery or antiquity when it came from her magic hands. Without +a particle of vanity or fear, secure in health and good-nature and +invariable prettiness, she cared little whether the appointed means of +grace were ancient silk or modern muslin. In her periods of poverty, +she made no secret of the necessary devices; the other girls, of course, +guessed them, but her lovers never did, because she always told them. +There was one particular tarlatan dress of hers which was a sort of +local institution. It was known to all her companions, like the State +House. There was a report that she had first worn it at her christening; +the report originated with herself. The young men knew that she was +going to the party if she could turn that pink tarlatan once more; but +they had only the vaguest impression what a tarlatan was, and cared +little on which side it was worn, so long as Kate was inside. + +During these epochs of privation her life, in respect to dress, was a +perpetual Christmas-tree of second-hand gifts. Wealthy aunts supplied +her with cast-off shoes of all sizes, from two and a half up to five, +and she used them all. She was reported to have worn one straw hat +through five changes of fashion. It was averred that, when square crowns +were in vogue, she flattened it over a tin pan, and that, when round +crowns returned, she bent it on the bedpost. There was such a charm in +her way of adapting these treasures, that the other girls liked to +test her with new problems in the way of millinery and dress-making; +millionnaire friends implored her to trim their hats, and lent her their +own things in order to learn how to wear them. This applied especially +to certain rich cousins, shy and studious girls, who adored her, and +to whom society only ceased to be alarming when the brilliant Kate +took them under her wing, and graciously accepted a few of their newest +feathers. Well might they acquiesce, for she stood by them superbly, and +her most favored partners found no way to her hand so sure as to dance +systematically through that staid sisterhood. Dear, sunshiny, gracious, +generous Kate!--who has ever done justice to the charm given to this +grave old world by the presence of one free-hearted and joyous girl? + +At the time now to be described, however, Kate’s purse was well filled; +and if she wore only second-best finery, it was because she had lent her +very best to somebody else. All that her doting father asked was to pay +for her dresses, and to see her wear them; and if her friends wore a +part of them, it only made necessary a larger wardrobe, and more varied +and pleasurable shopping. She was as good a manager in wealth as in +poverty, wasted nothing, took exquisite care of everything, and saved +faithfully for some one else all that was not needed for her own pretty +person. + +Pretty she was throughout, from the parting of her jet-black hair to the +high instep of her slender foot; a glancing, brilliant, brunette beauty, +with the piquant charm of perpetual spirits, and the equipoise of a +perfectly healthy nature. She was altogether graceful, yet she had not +the fresh, free grace of her cousin Hope, who was lithe and strong as a +hawthorne spray: Kate’s was the narrower grace of culture grown +hereditary, an in-door elegance that was born in her, and of which +dancing-school was but the natural development. You could not picture +Hope to your mind in one position more than in another; she had an +endless variety of easy motion. When you thought of Kate, you remembered +precisely how she sat, how she stood, and how she walked. That was all, +and it was always the same. But is not that enough? We do not ask of +Mary Stuart’s portrait that it should represent her in more than one +attitude, and why should a living beauty need more than two or three? + +Kate was betrothed to her cousin Harry, Hope’s brother, and, though she +was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to each other for a time +so long that the memory of man or maiden aunt ran not to the contrary. +She always declared, indeed, that they were born married, and that +their wedding-day would seem like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet, +unobtrusive, and manly. He might seem commonplace at first beside the +brilliant Kate and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never +commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His strong, +steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature; when he came +into the room, you felt as if a good many people had been added to the +company. He made steady progress in his profession of the law, through +sheer worth; he never dazzled, but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with +short, curling hair, blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color +readily mounted. Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient +and amiable, but, when overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a single +instant, and no more. It seemed as if a sudden flash of anger went +over him, like the flash that glides along the glutinous stem of the +fraxinella, when you touch it with a candle; the next moment it had +utterly vanished, and was forgotten as if it had never been. + +Kate’s love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured ties +that often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures. For other +temperaments it might have been inadequate; but theirs matched +perfectly, and it was all sufficient for them. If there was within +Kate’s range a more heroic and ardent emotion than that inspired by +Harry, it was put forth toward Hope. This was her idolatry; she always +said that it was fortunate Hope was Hal’s sister, or she should have +felt it her duty to give them to each other, and not die till the +wedding was accomplished. Harry shared this adoration to quite a +reasonable extent, for a brother; but his admiration for Philip Malbone +was one that Kate did not quite share. Harry’s quieter mood had been +dazzled from childhood by Philip, who had always been a privileged guest +in the household. Kate’s clear, penetrating, buoyant nature had divined +Phil’s weaknesses, and had sometimes laughed at them, even from her +childhood; though she did not dislike him, for she did not dislike +anybody. But Harry was magnetized by him very much as women were; +believed him true, because he was tender, and called him only fastidious +where Kate called him lazy. + +Kate was spending that summer with her aunt Jane, whose especial pet and +pride she was. Hope was spending there the summer vacation of a Normal +School in which she had just become a teacher. Her father had shared in +the family ups and downs, but had finally stayed down, while the rest +had remained up. Fortunately, his elder children were indifferent to +this, and indeed rather preferred it; it was a tradition that Hope +had expressed the wish, when a child, that her father might lose +his property, so that she could become a teacher. As for Harry, he +infinitely preferred the drudgery of a law office to that of a gentleman +of leisure; and as for their step-mother, it turned out, when she was +left a widow, that she had secured for herself and Emilia whatever +property remained, so that she suffered only the delightful need of +living in Europe for economy. + +The elder brother and sister had alike that fine physical vigor which +New England is now developing, just in time to save it from decay. Hope +was of Saxon type, though a shade less blonde than her brother; she +was a little taller, and of more commanding presence, with a peculiarly +noble carriage of the shoulders. Her brow was sometimes criticised as +being a little too full for a woman; but her nose was straight, +her mouth and teeth beautiful, and her profile almost perfect. Her +complexion had lost by out-door life something of its delicacy, but had +gained a freshness and firmness that no sunlight could impair. She had +that wealth of hair which young girls find the most enviable point of +beauty in each other. Hers reached below her knees, when loosened, or +else lay coiled, in munificent braids of gold, full of sparkling lights +and contrasted shadows, upon her queenly head. + +Her eyes were much darker than her hair, and had a way of opening +naively and suddenly, with a perfectly infantine expression, as if she +at that moment saw the sunlight for the first time. Her long lashes were +somewhat like Emilia’s, and she had the same deeply curved eyebrows; +in no other point was there a shade of resemblance between the +half-sisters. As compared with Kate, Hope showed a more abundant +physical life; there was more blood in her; she had ampler outlines, and +health more absolutely unvaried, for she had yet to know the experience +of a day’s illness. Kate seemed born to tread upon a Brussels carpet, +and Hope on the softer luxury of the forest floor. Out of doors her +vigor became a sort of ecstasy, and she walked the earth with a jubilee +of the senses, such as Browning attributes to his Saul. + +This inexhaustible freshness of physical organization seemed to open the +windows of her soul, and make for her a new heaven and earth every day. +It gave also a peculiar and almost embarrassing directness to her mental +processes, and suggested in them a sort of final and absolute value, as +if truth had for the first time found a perfectly translucent medium. +It was not so much that she said rare things, but her very silence was +eloquent, and there was a great deal of it. Her girlhood had in it +a certain dignity as of a virgin priestess or sibyl. Yet her hearty +sympathies and her healthy energy made her at home in daily life, and +in a democratic society. To Kate, for instance, she was a necessity of +existence, like light or air. Kate’s nature was limited; part of +her graceful equipoise was narrowness. Hope was capable of far more +self-abandonment to a controlling emotion, and, if she ever erred, +would err more widely, for it would be because the whole power of her +conscience was misdirected. “Once let her take wrong for right,” said +Aunt Jane, “and stop her if you can; these born saints give a great deal +more trouble than children of this world, like my Kate.” Yet in daily +life Hope yielded to her cousin nine times out of ten; but the tenth +time was the key to the situation. Hope loved Kate devotedly; but Kate +believed in her as the hunted fugitive believes in the north star. + +To these maidens, thus united, came Emilia home from Europe. The father +of Harry and Hope had been lured into a second marriage with Emilia’s +mother, a charming and unscrupulous woman, born with an American body +and a French soul. She having once won him to Paris, held him there +life-long, and kept her step-children at a safe distance. She arranged +that, even after her own death, her daughter should still remain abroad +for education; nor was Emilia ordered back until she brought down some +scandal by a romantic attempt to elope from boarding-school with a Swiss +servant. It was by weaning her heart from this man that Philip Malbone +had earned the thanks of the whole household during his hasty flight +through Europe. He possessed some skill in withdrawing the female +heart from an undesirable attachment, though it was apt to be done by +substituting another. It was fortunate that, in this case, no fears +could be entertained. Since his engagement Philip had not permitted +himself so much as a flirtation; he and Hope were to be married soon; he +loved and admired her heartily, and had an indifference to her want of +fortune that was quite amazing, when we consider that he had a fortune +of his own. + + + + +III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE. + +OLDPORT AVENUE is a place where a great many carriages may be seen +driving so slowly that they might almost be photographed without +halting, and where their occupants already wear the dismal expression +which befits that process. In these fine vehicles, following each other +in an endless file, one sees such faces as used to be exhibited in +ball-rooms during the performance of quadrilles, before round dances +came in,--faces marked by the renunciation of all human joy. Sometimes +a faint suspicion suggests itself on the Avenue, that these torpid +countenances might be roused to life, in case some horse should run +away. But that one chance never occurs; the riders may not yet be toned +down into perfect breeding, but the horses are. I do not know what could +ever break the gloom of this joyless procession, were it not that youth +and beauty are always in fashion, and one sometimes meets an exceptional +barouche full of boys and girls, who could absolutely be no happier if +they were a thousand miles away from the best society. And such a joyous +company were our four youths and maidens when they went to drive that +day, Emilia being left at home to rest after the fatigues of the voyage. + +“What beautiful horses!” was Hope’s first exclamation. “What grave +people!” was her second. + + “What though in solemn silence all + Roll round--” + +quoted Philip. + +“Hope is thinking,” said Harry, “whether ‘in reason’s ear they all +rejoice.’” + +“How COULD you know that?” said she, opening her eyes. + +“One thing always strikes me,” said Kate. “The sentence of stupefaction +does not seem to be enforced till after five-and-twenty. That young lady +we just met looked quite lively and juvenile last year, I remember, and +now she has graduated into a dowager.” + +“Like little Helen’s kitten,” said Philip. “She justly remarks that, +since I saw it last, it is all spoiled into a great big cat.” + +“Those must be snobs,” said Harry, as a carriage with unusually gorgeous +liveries rolled by. + +“I suppose so,” said Malbone, indifferently. “In Oldport we call all +new-comers snobs, you know, till they have invited us to their grand +ball. Then we go to it, and afterwards speak well of them, and only +abuse their wine.” + +“How do you know them for new-comers?” asked Hope, looking after the +carriage. + +“By their improperly intelligent expression,” returned Phil. “They look +around them as you do, my child, with the air of wide-awake curiosity +which marks the American traveller. That is out of place here. The +Avenue abhors everything but a vacuum.” + +“I never can find out,” continued Hope, “how people recognize each other +here. They do not look at each other, unless they know each other: and +how are they to know if they know, unless they look first?” + +“It seems an embarrassment,” said Malbone. “But it is supposed that +fashion perforates the eyelids and looks through. If you attempt it in +any other way, you are lost. Newly arrived people look about them, and, +the more new wealth they have, the more they gaze. The men are uneasy +behind their recently educated mustaches, and the women hold their +parasols with trembling hands. It takes two years to learn to drive +on the Avenue. Come again next summer, and you will see in those same +carriages faces of remote superciliousness, that suggest generations of +gout and ancestors.” + +“What a pity one feels,” said Harry, “for these people who still suffer +from lingering modesty, and need a master to teach them to be insolent!” + +“They learn it soon enough,” said Kate. “Philip is right. Fashion lies +in the eye. People fix their own position by the way they don’t look at +you.” + +“There is a certain indifference of manner,” philosophized Malbone, +“before which ingenuous youth is crushed. I may know that a man can +hardly read or write, and that his father was a ragpicker till one day +he picked up bank-notes for a million. No matter. If he does not take +the trouble to look at me, I must look reverentially at him.” + +“Here is somebody who will look at Hope,” cried Kate, suddenly. + +A carriage passed, bearing a young lady with fair hair, and a keen, +bright look, talking eagerly to a small and quiet youth beside her. + +Her face brightened still more as she caught the eye of Hope, whose +face lighted up in return, and who then sank back with a sort of sigh +of relief, as if she had at last seen somebody she cared for. The lady +waved an un-gloved hand, and drove by. + +“Who is that?” asked Philip, eagerly. He was used to knowing every one. + +“Hope’s pet,” said Kate, “and she who pets Hope, Lady Antwerp.” + +“Is it possible?” said Malbone. “That young creature? I fancied her +ladyship in spectacles, with little side curls. Men speak of her with +such dismay.” + +“Of course,” said Kate, “she asks them sensible questions.” + +“That is bad,” admitted Philip. “Nothing exasperates fashionable +Americans like a really intelligent foreigner. They feel as Sydney Smith +says the English clergy felt about Elizabeth Fry; she disturbs their +repose, and gives rise to distressing comparisons,--they long to burn +her alive. It is not their notion of a countess.” + +“I am sure it was not mine,” said Hope; “I can hardly remember that she +is one; I only know that I like her, she is so simple and intelligent. +She might be a girl from a Normal School.” + +“It is because you are just that,” said Kate, “that she likes you. +She came here supposing that we had all been at such schools. Then +she complained of us,--us girls in what we call good society, I +mean,--because, as she more than hinted, we did not seem to know +anything.” + +“Some of the mothers were angry,” said Hope. “But Aunt Jane told her +that it was perfectly true, and that her ladyship had not yet seen the +best-educated girls in America, who were generally the daughters of old +ministers and well-to-do shopkeepers in small New England towns, Aunt +Jane said.” + +“Yes,” said Kate, “she said that the best of those girls went to High +Schools and Normal Schools, and learned things thoroughly, you know; +but that we were only taught at boarding-schools and by governesses, and +came out at eighteen, and what could we know? Then came Hope, who had +been at those schools, and was the child of refined people too, and Lady +Antwerp was perfectly satisfied.” + +“Especially,” said Hope, “when Aunt Jane told her that, after all, +schools did not do very much good, for if people were born stupid they +only became more tiresome by schooling. She said that she had forgotten +all she learned at school except the boundaries of ancient Cappadocia.” + +Aunt Jane’s fearless sayings always passed current among her nieces; and +they drove on, Hope not being lowered in Philip’s estimation, nor raised +in her own, by being the pet of a passing countess. + +Who would not be charmed (he thought to himself) by this noble girl, +who walks the earth fresh and strong as a Greek goddess, pure as Diana, +stately as Juno? She belongs to the unspoiled womanhood of another age, +and is wasted among these dolls and butterflies. + +He looked at her. She sat erect and graceful, unable to droop into the +debility of fashionable reclining,--her breezy hair lifted a little by +the soft wind, her face flushed, her full brown eyes looking eagerly +about, her mouth smiling happily. To be with those she loved best, and +to be driving over the beautiful earth! She was so happy that no mob of +fashionables could have lessened her enjoyment, or made her for a moment +conscious that anybody looked at her. The brilliant equipages which +they met each moment were not wholly uninteresting even to her, for her +affections went forth to some of the riders and to all the horses. She +was as well contented at that moment, on the glittering Avenue, as if +they had all been riding home through country lanes, and in constant +peril of being jolted out among the whortleberry-bushes. + +Her face brightened yet more as they met a carriage containing a +graceful lady dressed with that exquisiteness of taste that charms both +man and woman, even if no man can analyze and no woman rival its effect. +She had a perfectly high-bred look, and an eye that in an instant would +calculate one’s ancestors as far back as Nebuchadnezzar, and bow to them +all together. She smiled good-naturedly on Hope, and kissed her hand to +Kate. + +“So, Hope,” said Philip, “you are bent on teaching music to Mrs. +Meredith’s children.” + +“Indeed I am!” said Hope, eagerly. “O Philip, I shall enjoy it so! I do +not care so very much about her, but she has dear little girls. And you +know I am a born drudge. I have not been working hard enough to enjoy +an entire vacation, but I shall be so very happy here if I can have some +real work for an hour or two every other day.” + +“Hope,” said Philip, gravely, “look steadily at these people whom we are +meeting, and reflect. Should you like to have them say, ‘There goes Mrs. +Meredith’s music teacher’?” + +“Why not?” said Hope, with surprise. “The children are young, and it is +not very presumptuous. I ought to know enough for that.” + +Malbone looked at Kate, who smiled with delight, and put her hand on +that of Hope. Indeed, she kept it there so long that one or two passing +ladies stopped their salutations in mid career, and actually looked +after them in amazement at their attitude, as who should say, “What a +very mixed society!” + +So they drove on,--meeting four-in-hands, and tandems, and donkey-carts, +and a goat-cart, and basket-wagons driven by pretty girls, with +uncomfortable youths in or out of livery behind. They met, had they but +known it, many who were aiming at notoriety, and some who had it; many +who looked contented with their lot, and some who actually were so. They +met some who put on courtesy and grace with their kid gloves, and laid +away those virtues in their glove-boxes afterwards; while to others +the mere consciousness of kid gloves brought uneasiness, redness of the +face, and a general impression of being all made of hands. They met the +four white horses of an ex-harness-maker, and the superb harnesses of an +ex-horse-dealer. Behind these came the gayest and most plebeian equipage +of all, a party of journeymen carpenters returning from their work in a +four-horse wagon. Their only fit compeers were an Italian opera-troupe, +who were chatting and gesticulating on the piazza of the great hotel, +and planning, amid jest and laughter, their future campaigns. Their work +seemed like play, while the play around them seemed like work. Indeed, +most people on the Avenue seemed to be happy in inverse ratio to their +income list. + +As our youths and maidens passed the hotel, a group of French naval +officers strolled forth, some of whom had a good deal of inexplicable +gold lace dangling in festoons from their shoulders,--“topsail halyards” + the American midshipmen called them. Philip looked hard at one of these +gentlemen. + +“I have seen that young fellow before,” said he, “or his twin brother. +But who can swear to the personal identity of a Frenchman?” + + + + +IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION. + +THE next morning had that luminous morning haze, not quite dense +enough to be called a fog, which is often so lovely in Oldport. It was +perfectly still; the tide swelled and swelled till it touched the edge +of the green lawn behind the house, and seemed ready to submerge the +slender pier; the water looked at first like glass, till closer gaze +revealed long sinuous undulations, as if from unseen water-snakes +beneath. A few rags of storm-cloud lay over the half-seen hills beyond +the bay, and behind them came little mutterings of thunder, now +here, now there, as if some wild creature were roaming up and down, +dissatisfied, in the shelter of the clouds. The pale haze extended into +the foreground, and half veiled the schooners that lay at anchor with +their sails up. It was sultry, and there was something in the atmosphere +that at once threatened and soothed. Sometimes a few drops dimpled the +water and then ceased; the muttering creature in the sky moved northward +and grew still. It was a day when every one would be tempted to go out +rowing, but when only lovers would go. Philip and Hope went. + +Kate and Harry, meanwhile, awaited their opportunity to go in and visit +Aunt Jane. This was a thing that never could be done till near noon, +because that dear lady was very deliberate in her morning habits, +and always averred that she had never seen the sun rise except in +a panorama. She hated to be hurried in dressing, too; for she was +accustomed to say that she must have leisure to understand herself, and +this was clearly an affair of time. + +But she was never more charming than when, after dressing and +breakfasting in seclusion, and then vigilantly watching her handmaiden +through the necessary dustings and arrangements, she sat at last, with +her affairs in order, to await events. Every day she expected something +entirely new to happen, and was never disappointed. For she herself +always happened, if nothing else did; she could no more repeat herself +than the sunrise can; and the liveliest visitor always carried away +something fresher and more remarkable than he brought. + +Her book that morning had displeased her, and she was boiling with +indignation against its author. + +“I am reading a book so dry,” she said, “it makes me cough. No wonder +there was a drought last summer. It was printed then. Worcester’s +Geography seems in my memory as fascinating as Shakespeare, when I look +back upon it from this book. How can a man write such a thing and live?” + +“Perhaps he lived by writing it,” said Kate. + +“Perhaps it was the best he could do,” added the more literal Harry. + +“It certainly was not the best he could do, for he might have +died,--died instead of dried. O, I should like to prick that man with +something sharp, and see if sawdust did not run out of him! Kate, ask +the bookseller to let me know if he ever really dies, and then life may +seem fresh again.” + +“What is it?” asked Kate. + +“Somebody’s memoirs,” said Aunt Jane. “Was there no man left worth +writing about, that they should make a biography about this one? It +is like a life of Napoleon with all the battles left out. They are +conceited enough to put his age in the upper corner of each page too, as +if anybody cared how old he was.” + +“Such pretty covers!” said Kate. “It is too bad.” + +“Yes,” said Aunt Jane. “I mean to send them back and have new leaves +put in. These are so wretched, there is not a teakettle in the land so +insignificant that it would boil over them. Don’t let us talk any more +about it. Have Philip and Hope gone out upon the water?” + +“Yes, dear,” said Kate. “Did Ruth tell you?” + +“When did that aimless infant ever tell anything?” + +“Then how did you know it?” + +“If I waited for knowledge till that sweet-tempered parrot chose to tell +me,” Aunt Jane went on, “I should be even more foolish than I am.” + +“Then how did you know?” + +“Of course I heard the boat hauled down, and of course I knew that none +but lovers would go out just before a thunder-storm. Then you and Harry +came in, and I knew it was the others.” + +“Aunt Jane,” said Kate, “you divine everything: what a brain you have!” + +“Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little girl’s +work-basket,--a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white muslin.” + +“Now she is fishing for compliments,” said Kate, “and she shall have +one. She was very sweet and good to Philip last night.” + +“I know it,” said Aunt Jane, with a groan. “I waked in the night and +thought about it. I was awake a great deal last night. I have heard +cocks crowing all my life, but I never knew what that creature could +accomplish before. So I lay and thought how good and forgiving I was; it +was quite distressing.” + +“Remorse?” said Kate. + +“Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought to be +vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I suffer from a +good one.” + +“It was no merit of yours, aunt,” put in Harry. “Who was ever more +agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?” + +“Lovable!” burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or +manipulated by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against Harry’s +blunt assertions. “Of course he is lovable, and that is why I dislike +him. His father was so before him. That is the worst of it. I never in +my life saw any harm done by a villain; I wish I could. All the mischief +in this world is done by lovable people. Thank Heaven, nobody ever dared +to call me lovable!” + +“I should like to see any one dare call you anything else,--you dear, +old, soft-hearted darling!” interposed Kate. + +“But, aunt,” persisted Harry, “if you only knew what the mass of young +men are--” + +“Don’t I?” interrupted the impetuous lady. “What is there that is not +known to any woman who has common sense, and eyes enough to look out of +a window?” + +“If you only knew,” Harry went on, “how superior Phil Malbone is, in his +whole tone, to any fellow of my acquaintance.” + +“Lord help the rest!” she answered. “Philip has a sort of refinement +instead of principles, and a heart instead of a conscience,--just heart +enough to keep himself happy and everybody else miserable.” + +“Do you mean to say,” asked the obstinate Hal, “that there is no +difference between refinement and coarseness?” + +“Yes, there is,” she said. + +“Well, which is best?” + +“Coarseness is safer by a great deal,” said Aunt Jane, “in the hands +of a man like Philip. What harm can that swearing coachman do, I should +like to know, in the street yonder? To be sure it is very unpleasant, +and I wonder they let people swear so, except, perhaps, in waste places +outside the town; but that is his way of expressing himself, and he only +frightens people, after all.” + +“Which Philip does not,” said Hal. + +“Exactly. That is the danger. He frightens nobody, not even himself, +when he ought to wear a label round his neck marked ‘Dangerous,’ such as +they have at other places where it is slippery and brittle. When he is +here, I keep saying to myself, ‘Too smooth, too smooth!’” + +“Aunt Jane,” said Harry, gravely, “I know Malbone very well, and I never +knew any man whom it was more unjust to call a hypocrite.” + +“Did I say he was a hypocrite?” she cried. “He is worse than that; at +least, more really dangerous. It is these high-strung sentimentalists +who do all the mischief; who play on their own lovely emotions, +forsooth, till they wear out those fine fiddlestrings, and then have +nothing left but the flesh and the D. Don’t tell me!” + +“Do stop, auntie,” interposed Kate, quite alarmed, “you are really worse +than a coachman. You are growing very profane indeed.” + +“I have a much harder time than any coachman, Kate,” retorted the +injured lady. “Nobody tries to stop him, and you are always hushing me +up.” + +“Hushing you up, darling?” said Kate. “When we only spoil you by +praising and quoting everything you say.” + +“Only when it amuses you,” said Aunt Jane. “So long as I sit and cry my +eyes out over a book, you all love me, and when I talk nonsense, you are +ready to encourage it; but when I begin to utter a little sense, you all +want to silence me, or else run out of the room! Yesterday I read about +a newspaper somewhere, called the ‘Daily Evening Voice’; I wish you +would allow me a daily morning voice.” + +“Do not interfere, Kate,” said Hal. “Aunt Jane and I only wish to +understand each other.” + +“I am sure we don’t,” said Aunt Jane; “I have no desire to understand +you, and you never will understand me till you comprehend Philip.” + +“Let us agree on one thing,” Harry said. “Surely, aunt, you know how he +loves Hope?” + +Aunt Jane approached a degree nearer the equator, and said, gently, “I +fear I do.” + +“Fear?” + +“Yes, fear. That is just what troubles me. I know precisely how he loves +her. Il se laisse aimer. Philip likes to be petted, as much as any cat, +and, while he will purr, Hope is happy. Very few men accept idolatry +with any degree of grace, but he unfortunately does.” + +“Unfortunately?” remonstrated Hal, as far as ever from being satisfied. +“This is really too bad. You never will do him any justice.” + +“Ah?” said Aunt Jane, chilling again, “I thought I did. I observe he is +very much afraid of me, and there seems to be no other reason.” + +“The real trouble is,” said Harry, after a pause, “that you doubt his +constancy.” + +“What do you call constancy?” said she. “Kissing a woman’s picture ten +years after a man has broken her heart? Philip Malbone has that kind of +constancy, and so had his father before him.” + +This was too much for Harry, who was making for the door in indignation, +when little Ruth came in with Aunt Jane’s luncheon, and that lady was +soon absorbed in the hopeless task of keeping her handmaiden’s pretty +blue and white gingham sleeve out of the butter-plate. + + + + +V. A MULTIVALVE HEART. + +PHILIP MALBONE had that perfectly sunny temperament which is peculiarly +captivating among Americans, because it is so rare. He liked everybody +and everybody liked him; he had a thousand ways of affording pleasure, +and he received it in the giving. He had a personal beauty, which, +strange to say, was recognized by both sexes,--for handsome men must +often consent to be mildly hated by their own. He had travelled much, +and had mingled in very varied society; he had a moderate fortune, no +vices, no ambition, and no capacity of ennui. + +He was fastidious and over-critical, it might be, in his theories, but +in practice he was easily suited and never vexed. + +He liked travelling, and he liked staying at home; he was so continually +occupied as to give an apparent activity to all his life, and yet he +was never too busy to be interrupted, especially if the intruder were +a woman or a child. He liked to be with people of his own age, whatever +their condition; he also liked old people because they were old, and +children because they were young. In travelling by rail, he would woo +crying babies out of their mothers’ arms, and still them; it was always +his back that Irishwomen thumped, to ask if they must get out at the +next station; and he might be seen handing out decrepit paupers, as +if they were of royal blood and bore concealed sceptres in their old +umbrellas. Exquisitely nice in his personal habits, he had the practical +democracy of a good-natured young prince; he had never yet seen a human +being who awed him, nor one whom he had the slightest wish to awe. +His courtesy, had, therefore, that comprehensiveness which we call +republican, though it was really the least republican thing about him. +All felt its attraction; there was really no one who disliked him, +except Aunt Jane; and even she admitted that he was the only person who +knew how to cut her lead-pencil. + +That cheerful English premier who thought that any man ought to find +happiness enough in walking London streets and looking at the lobsters +in the fish-markets, was not more easily satisfied than Malbone. He +liked to observe the groups of boys fishing at the wharves, or to hear +the chat of their fathers about coral-reefs and penguins’ eggs; or to +sketch the fisher’s little daughter awaiting her father at night on +some deserted and crumbling wharf, his blue pea-jacket over her fair +ring-leted head, and a great cat standing by with tail uplifted, her +sole protector. He liked the luxurious indolence of yachting, and +he liked as well to float in his wherry among the fleet of fishing +schooners getting under way after a three days’ storm, each vessel +slipping out in turn from the closely packed crowd, and spreading its +white wings for flight. He liked to watch the groups of negro boys +and girls strolling by the window at evening, and strumming on the +banjo,--the only vestige of tropical life that haunts our busy Northern +zone. But he liked just as well to note the ways of well-dressed girls +and boys at croquet parties, or to sit at the club window and hear the +gossip. He was a jewel of a listener, and was not easily bored even when +Philadelphians talked about families, or New Yorkers about bargains, or +Bostonians about books. A man who has not one absorbing aim can get a +great many miscellaneous things into each twenty-four hours; and there +was not a day in which Philip did not make himself agreeable and useful +to many people, receive many confidences, and give much good-humored +advice about matters of which he knew nothing. His friends’ children +ran after him in the street, and he knew the pet theories and wines of +elderly gentlemen. He said that he won their hearts by remembering every +occurrence in their lives except their birthdays. + +It was, perhaps, no drawback on the popularity of Philip Malbone that +he had been for some ten years reproached as a systematic flirt by all +women with whom he did not happen at the moment to be flirting. The +reproach was unjust; he had never done anything systematically in his +life; it was his temperament that flirted, not his will. He simply had +that most perilous of all seductive natures, in which the seducer is +himself seduced. With a personal refinement that almost amounted to +purity, he was constantly drifting into loves more profoundly perilous +than if they had belonged to a grosser man. Almost all women loved him, +because he loved almost all; he never had to assume an ardor, for he +always felt it. His heart was multivalve; he could love a dozen at once +in various modes and gradations, press a dozen hands in a day, gaze into +a dozen pair of eyes with unfeigned tenderness; while the last pair wept +for him, he was looking into the next. In truth, he loved to explore +those sweet depths; humanity is the highest thing to investigate, +he said, and the proper study of mankind is woman. Woman needs to be +studied while under the influence of emotion; let us therefore have +the emotions. This was the reason he gave to himself; but this refined +Mormonism of the heart was not based on reason, but on temperament and +habit. In such matters logic is only for the by-standers. + +His very generosity harmed him, as all our good qualities may harm us +when linked with bad ones; he had so many excuses for doing kindnesses +to his friends, it was hard to quarrel with him if he did them too +tenderly. He was no more capable of unkindness than of constancy; and +so strongly did he fix the allegiance of those who loved him, that the +women to whom he had caused most anguish would still defend him when +accused; would have crossed the continent, if needed, to nurse him in +illness, and would have rained rivers of tears on his grave. To do him +justice, he would have done almost as much for them,--for any of them. +He could torture a devoted heart, but only through a sort of half-wilful +unconsciousness; he could not bear to see tears shed in his presence, +nor to let his imagination dwell very much on those which flowed in his +absence. When he had once loved a woman, or even fancied that he loved +her, he built for her a shrine that was never dismantled, and in which +a very little faint incense would sometimes be found burning for years +after; he never quite ceased to feel a languid thrill at the mention +of her name; he would make even for a past love the most generous +sacrifices of time, convenience, truth perhaps,--everything, in short, +but the present love. To those who had given him all that an undivided +heart can give he would deny nothing but an undivided heart in return. +The misfortune was that this was the only thing they cared to possess. + +This abundant and spontaneous feeling gave him an air of earnestness, +without which he could not have charmed any woman, and, least of all, +one like Hope. No woman really loves a trifler; she must at least +convince herself that he who trifles with others is serious with her. +Philip was never quite serious and never quite otherwise; he never +deliberately got up a passion, for it was never needful; he simply found +an object for his emotions, opened their valves, and then watched their +flow. To love a charming woman in her presence is no test of genuine +passion; let us know how much you long for her in absence. This longing +had never yet seriously troubled Malbone, provided there was another +charming person within an easy walk. + +If it was sometimes forced upon him that all this ended in anguish to +some of these various charmers, first or last, then there was always in +reserve the pleasure of repentance. He was very winning and generous in +his repentances, and he enjoyed them so much they were often repeated. +He did not pass for a weak person, and he was not exactly weak; but he +spent his life in putting away temptations with one hand and pulling +them back with the other. There was for him something piquant in being +thus neither innocent nor guilty, but always on some delicious +middle ground. He loved dearly to skate on thin ice,--that was the +trouble,--especially where he fancied the water to be just within his +depth. Unluckily the sea of life deepens rather fast. + +Malbone had known Hope from her childhood, as he had known her cousins, +but their love dated from their meetings beside the sickbed of his +mother, over whom he had watched with unstinted devotion for weary +months. She had been very fond of the young girl, and her last earthly +act was to place Hope’s hand in Philip’s. Long before this final +consecration, Hope had won his heart more thoroughly, he fancied, than +any woman he had ever seen. The secret of this crowning charm was, +perhaps, that she was a new sensation. He had prided himself on his +knowledge of her sex, and yet here was a wholly new species. He was +acquainted with the women of society, and with the women who only wished +to be in society. But here was one who was in the chrysalis, and had +never been a grub, and had no wish to be a butterfly, and what should he +make of her? He was like a student of insects who had never seen a bee. +Never had he known a young girl who cared for the things which this +maiden sought, or who was not dazzled by things to which Hope seemed +perfectly indifferent. She was not a devotee, she was not a prude; +people seemed to amuse and interest her; she liked them, she declared, +as much as she liked books. But this very way of putting the thing +seemed like inverting the accustomed order of affairs in the polite +world, and was of itself a novelty. + +Of course he had previously taken his turn for a while among Kate’s +admirers; but it was when she was very young, and, moreover, it was hard +to get up anything like a tender and confidential relation with that +frank maiden; she never would have accepted Philip Malbone for herself, +and she was by no means satisfied with his betrothal to her best +beloved. But that Hope loved him ardently there was no doubt, however it +might be explained. Perhaps it was some law of opposites, and she needed +some one of lighter nature than her own. As her resolute purpose charmed +him, so she may have found a certain fascination in the airy way in +which he took hold on life; he was so full of thought and intelligence; +possessing infinite leisure, and yet incapable of ennui; ready to oblige +every one, and doing so many kind acts at so little personal sacrifice; +always easy, graceful, lovable, and kind. In her just indignation at +those who called him heartless, she forgot to notice that his heart was +not deep. He was interested in all her pursuits, could aid her in all +her studies, suggest schemes for her benevolent desires, and could then +make others work for her, and even work himself. People usually loved +Philip, even while they criticised him; but Hope loved him first, and +then could not criticise him at all. + +Nature seems always planning to equalize characters, and to protect our +friends from growing too perfect for our deserts. Love, for instance, is +apt to strengthen the weak, and yet sometimes weakens the strong. Under +its influence Hope sometimes appeared at disadvantage. Had the object of +her love been indifferent, the result might have been otherwise, but her +ample nature apparently needed to contract itself a little, to find room +within Philip’s heart. Not that in his presence she became vain or petty +or jealous; that would have been impossible. She only grew credulous and +absorbed and blind. A kind of gentle obstinacy, too, developed itself +in her nature, and all suggestion of defects in him fell off from her as +from a marble image of Faith. If he said or did anything, there was no +appeal; that was settled, let us pass to something else. + +I almost blush to admit that Aunt Jane--of whom it could by no means +be asserted that she was a saintly lady, but only a very charming +one--rather rejoiced in this transformation. + +“I like it better, my dear,” she said, with her usual frankness, to +Kate. “Hope was altogether too heavenly for my style. When she first +came here, I secretly thought I never should care anything about her. +She seemed nothing but a little moral tale. I thought she would not last +me five minutes. But now she is growing quite human and ridiculous about +that Philip, and I think I may find her very attractive indeed.” + + + + +VI. “SOME LOVER’S CLEAR DAY.” + +“HOPE!” said Philip Malbone, as they sailed together in a little boat +the next morning, “I have come back to you from months of bewildered +dreaming. I have been wandering,--no matter where. I need you. You +cannot tell how much I need you.” + +“I can estimate it,” she answered, gently, “by my need of you.” + +“Not at all,” said Philip, gazing in her trustful face. “Any one whom +you loved would adore you, could he be by your side. You need nothing. +It is I who need you.” + +“Why?” she asked, simply. + +“Because,” he said, “I am capable of behaving very much like a fool. +Hope, I am not worthy of you; why do you love me? why do you trust me?” + +“I do not know how I learned to love you,” said Hope. “It is a blessing +that was given to me. But I learned to trust you in your mother’s +sick-room.” + +“Ay,” said Philip, sadly, “there, at least, I did my full duty.” + +“As few would have done it,” said Hope, firmly,--“very few. Such +prolonged self-sacrifice must strengthen a man for life.” + +“Not always,” said Philip, uneasily. “Too much of that sort of thing may +hurt one, I fancy, as well as too little. He may come to imagine that +the balance of virtue is in his favor, and that he may grant himself +a little indulgence to make up for lost time. That sort of recoil is a +little dangerous, as I sometimes feel, do you know?” + +“And you show it,” said Hope, ardently, “by fresh sacrifices! How much +trouble you have taken about Emilia! Some time, when you are willing, +you shall tell me all about it. You always seemed to me a magician, but +I did not think that even you could restore her to sense and wisdom so +soon.” + +Malbone was just then very busy putting the boat about; but when he had +it on the other tack, he said, “How do you like her?” + +“Philip,” said Hope, her eyes filling with tears, “I wonder if you have +the slightest conception how my heart is fixed on that child. She has +always been a sort of dream to me, and the difficulty of getting any +letters from her has only added to the excitement. Now that she is here, +my whole heart yearns toward her. Yet, when I look into her eyes, a sort +of blank hopelessness comes over me. They seem like the eyes of some +untamable creature whose language I shall never learn. Philip, you are +older and wiser than I, and have shown already that you understand her. +Tell me what I can do to make her love me?” + +“Tell me how any one could help it?” said Malbone, looking fondly on the +sweet, pleading face before him. + +“I am beginning to fear that it can be helped,” she said. Her thoughts +were still with Emilia. + +“Perhaps it can,” said Phil, “if you sit so far away from people. Here +we are alone on the bay. Come and sit by me, Hope.” + +She had been sitting amidships, but she came aft at once, and nestled +by him as he sat holding the tiller. She put her face against his knee, +like a tired child, and shut her eyes; her hair was lifted by the summer +breeze; a scent of roses came from her; the mere contact of anything +so fresh and pure was a delight. He put his arm around her, and all the +first ardor of passion came back to him again; he remembered how he had +longed to win this Diana, and how thoroughly she was won. + +“It is you who do me good,” said she. “O Philip, sail as slowly as you +can.” But he only sailed farther, instead of more slowly, gliding in +and out among the rocky islands in the light north wind, which, for a +wonder, lasted all that day,--dappling the bare hills of the Isle +of Shadows with a shifting beauty. The tide was in and brimming, the +fishing-boats were busy, white gulls soared and clattered round them, +and heavy cormorants flapped away as they neared the rocks. Beneath the +boat the soft multitudinous jellyfishes waved their fringed pendants, or +glittered with tremulous gold along their pink, translucent sides. +Long lines and streaks of paler blue lay smoothly along the enamelled +surface, the low, amethystine hills lay couched beyond them, and little +clouds stretched themselves in lazy length above the beautiful expanse. +They reached the ruined fort at last, and Philip, surrendering Hope to +others, was himself besieged by a joyous group. + +As you stand upon the crumbling parapet of old Fort Louis, you feel +yourself poised in middle air; the sea-birds soar and swoop around you, +the white surf lashes the rocks far below, the white vessels come and +go, the water is around you on all sides but one, and spreads its pale +blue beauty up the lovely bay, or, in deeper tints, southward towards +the horizon line. I know of no ruin in America which nature has so +resumed; it seems a part of the living rock; you cannot imagine it away. + +It is a single round, low tower, shaped like the tomb of Cacilia +Metella. But its stately position makes it rank with the vast sisterhood +of wave-washed strongholds; it might be King Arthur’s Cornish Tyntagel; +it might be “the teocallis tower” of Tuloom. As you gaze down from its +height, all things that float upon the ocean seem equalized. Look at the +crowded life on yonder frigate, coming in full-sailed before the steady +sea-breeze. To furl that heavy canvas, a hundred men cluster like bees +upon the yards, yet to us upon this height it is all but a plaything for +the eyes, and we turn with equal interest from that thronged floating +citadel to some lonely boy in his skiff. + +Yonder there sail to the ocean, beating wearily to windward, a few slow +vessels. Inward come jubilant white schooners, wing-and-wing. There are +fishing-smacks towing their boats behind them like a family of children; +and there are slender yachts that bear only their own light burden. Once +from this height I saw the whole yacht squadron round Point Judith, and +glide in like a flock of land-bound sea-birds; and above them, yet more +snowy and with softer curves, pressed onward the white squadrons of the +sky. + +Within, the tower is full of debris, now disintegrated into one solid +mass, and covered with vegetation. You can lie on the blossoming clover, +where the bees hum and the crickets chirp around you, and can look +through the arch which frames its own fair picture. In the foreground +lies the steep slope overgrown with bayberry and gay with thistle +blooms; then the little winding cove with its bordering cliffs; and +the rough pastures with their grazing sheep beyond. Or, ascending the +parapet, you can look across the bay to the men making hay picturesquely +on far-off lawns, or to the cannon on the outer works of Fort Adams, +looking like vast black insects that have crawled forth to die. + +Here our young people spent the day; some sketched, some played croquet, +some bathed in rocky inlets where the kingfisher screamed above them, +some rowed to little craggy isles for wild roses, some fished, and then +were taught by the boatmen to cook their fish in novel island ways. The +morning grew more and more cloudless, and then in the afternoon a fog +came and went again, marching by with its white armies, soon met and +annihilated by a rainbow. + +The conversation that day was very gay and incoherent,--little fragments +of all manner of things; science, sentiment, everything: “Like a +distracted dictionary,” Kate said. At last this lively maiden got Philip +away from the rest, and began to cross-question him. + +“Tell me,” she said, “about Emilia’s Swiss lover. She shuddered when she +spoke of him. Was he so very bad?” + +“Not at all,” was the answer. “You had false impressions of him. He was +a handsome, manly fellow, a little over-sentimental. He had travelled, +and had been a merchant’s clerk in Paris and London. Then he came back, +and became a boatman on the lake, some said, for love of her.” + +“Did she love him?” + +“Passionately, as she thought.” + +“Did he love her much?” + +“I suppose so.” + +“Then why did she stop loving him?” + +“She does not hate him?” + +“No,” said Kate, “that is what surprises me. Lovers hate, or those who +have been lovers. She is only indifferent. Philip, she had wound silk +upon a torn piece of his carte-de-visite, and did not know it till I +showed it to her. Even then she did not care.” + +“Such is woman!” said Philip. + +“Nonsense,” said Kate. “She had seen somebody whom she loved better, and +she still loves that somebody. Who was it? She had not been introduced +into society. Were there any superior men among her teachers? She is +just the girl to fall in love with her teacher, at least in Europe, +where they are the only men one sees.” + +“There were some very superior men among them,” said Philip. “Professor +Schirmer has a European reputation; he wears blue spectacles and a +maroon wig.” + +“Do not talk so,” said Kate. “I tell you, Emilia is not changeable, like +you, sir. She is passionate and constant. She would have married that +man or died for him. You may think that your sage counsels restrained +her, but they did not; it was that she loved some one else. Tell me +honestly. Do you not know that there is somebody in Europe whom she +loves to distraction?” + +“I do not know it,” said Philip. + +“Of course you do not KNOW it,” returned the questioner. “Do you not +think it?” + +“I have no reason to believe it.” + +“That has nothing to do with it,” said Kate. “Things that we believe +without any reason have a great deal more weight with us. Do you not +believe it?” + +“No,” said Philip, point-blank. + +“It is very strange,” mused Kate. “Of course you do not know much about +it. She may have misled you, but I am sure that neither you nor any one +else could have cured her of a passion, especially an unreasonable one, +without putting another in its place. If you did it without that, you +are a magician, as Hope once called you. Philip, I am afraid of you.” + +“There we sympathize,” said Phil. “I am sometimes afraid of myself, but +I discover within half an hour what a very commonplace land harmless +person I am.” + +Meantime Emilia found herself beside her sister, who was sketching. +After watching Hope for a time in silence, she began to question her. + +“Tell me what you have been doing in all these years,” she said. + +“O, I have been at school,” said Hope. “First I went through the High +School; then I stayed out of school a year, and studied Greek and German +with my uncle, and music with my aunt, who plays uncommonly well. Then +I persuaded them to let me go to the Normal School for two years, and +learn to be a teacher.” + +“A teacher!” said Emilia, with surprise. “Is it necessary that you +should be a teacher?” + +“Very necessary,” replied Hope. “I must have something to do, you know, +after I leave school.” + +“To do?” said the other. “Cannot you go to parties?” + +“Not all the time,” said her sister. + +“Well,” said Emilia, “in the mean time you can go to drive, or make +calls, or stay at home and make pretty little things to wear, as other +girls do.” + +“I can find time for that too, little sister, when I need them. But I +love children, you know, and I like to teach interesting studies. I have +splendid health, and I enjoy it all. I like it as you love dancing, +my child, only I like dancing too, so I have a greater variety of +enjoyments.” + +“But shall you not sometimes find it very hard?” said Emilia. + +“That is why I shall like it,” was the answer. + +“What a girl you are!” exclaimed the younger sister. “You know +everything and can do everything.” + +“A very short everything,” interposed Hope. + +“Kate says,” continued Emilia, “that you speak French as well as I do, +and I dare say you dance a great deal better; and those are the only +things I know.” + +“If we both had French partners, dear,” replied the elder maiden, “they +would soon find the difference in both respects. My dancing came by +nature, I believe, and I learned French as a child, by talking with my +old uncle, who was half a Parisian. I believe I have a good accent, +but I have so little practice that I have no command of the language +compared to yours. In a week or two we can both try our skill, as there +is to be a ball for the officers of the French corvette yonder,” + and Hope pointed to the heavy spars, the dark canvas, and the high +quarter-deck which made the “Jean Hoche” seem as if she had floated out +of the days of Nelson. + +The calm day waned, the sun drooped to his setting amid a few golden +bars and pencilled lines of light. Ere they were ready for departure, +the tide had ebbed, and, in getting the boats to a practicable +landing-place, Malbone was delayed behind the others. As he at length +brought his boat to the rock, Hope sat upon the ruined fort, far above +him, and sang. Her noble contralto voice echoed among the cliffs down +to the smooth water; the sun went down behind her, and still she sat +stately and noble, her white dress looking more and more spirit-like +against the golden sky; and still the song rang on,-- + +“Never a scornful word should grieve thee, I’d smile on thee, sweet, as +the angels do; Sweet as thy smile on me shone ever, Douglas, Douglas, +tender and true.” + +All sacredness and sweetness, all that was pure and brave and truthful, +seemed to rest in her. And when the song ceased at his summons, and she +came down to meet him,--glowing, beautiful, appealing, tender,--then all +meaner spells vanished, if such had ever haunted him, and he was hers +alone. + +Later that evening, after the household had separated, Hope went into +the empty drawing-room for a light. Philip, after a moment’s hesitation, +followed her, and paused in the doorway. She stood, a white-robed +figure, holding the lighted candle; behind her rose the arched alcove, +whose quaint cherubs looked down on her; she seemed to have stepped +forth, the awakened image of a saint. Looking up, she saw his eager +glance; then she colored, trembled, and put the candle down. He came to +her, took her hand and kissed it, then put his hand upon her brow and +gazed into her face, then kissed her lips. She quietly yielded, but her +color came and went, and her lips moved as if to speak. For a moment he +saw her only, thought only of her. + +Then, even while he gazed into her eyes, a flood of other memories +surged over him, and his own eyes grew dim. His head swam, the lips he +had just kissed appeared to fade away, and something of darker, richer +beauty seemed to burn through those fair features; he looked through +those gentle eyes into orbs more radiant, and it was as if a countenance +of eager passion obliterated that fair head, and spoke with substituted +lips, “Behold your love.” There was a thrill of infinite ecstasy in the +work his imagination did; he gave it rein, then suddenly drew it in and +looked at Hope. Her touch brought pain for an instant, as she laid her +hand upon him, but he bore it. Then some influence of calmness came; +there swept by him a flood of earlier, serener memories; he sat down in +the window-seat beside her, and when she put her face beside his, and +her soft hair touched his cheek, and he inhaled the rose-odor that +always clung round her, every atom of his manhood stood up to drive away +the intruding presence, and he again belonged to her alone. + +When he went to his chamber that night, he drew from his pocket a little +note in a girlish hand, which he lighted in the candle, and put upon the +open hearth to burn. With what a cruel, tinkling rustle the pages flamed +and twisted and opened, as if the fire read them, and collapsed again as +if in agonizing effort to hold their secret even in death! The closely +folded paper refused to burn, it went out again and again; while each +time Philip Malbone examined it ere relighting, with a sort of +vague curiosity, to see how much passion had already vanished out of +existence, and how much yet survived. For each of these inspections he +had to brush aside the calcined portion of the letter, once so warm +and beautiful with love, but changed to something that seemed to him a +semblance of his own heart just then,--black, trivial, and empty. + +Then he took from a little folded paper a long tress of dark silken +hair, and, without trusting himself to kiss it, held it firmly in the +candle. It crisped and sparkled, and sent out a pungent odor, then +turned and writhed between his fingers, like a living thing in pain. +What part of us has earthly immortality but our hair? It dies not with +death. When all else of human beauty has decayed beyond corruption into +the more agonizing irrecoverableness of dust, the hair is still fresh +and beautiful, defying annihilation, and restoring to the powerless +heart the full association of the living image. These shrinking hairs, +they feared not death, but they seemed to fear Malbone. Nothing but the +hand of man could destroy what he was destroying; but his hand shrank +not, and it was done. + + + + +VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. + +AT the celebrated Oldport ball for the French officers, the merit of +each maiden was estimated by the number of foreigners with whom she +could talk at once, for there were more gentlemen than ladies, and not +more than half the ladies spoke French. Here Emilia was in her glory; +the ice being once broken, officers were to her but like so many +school-girls, and she rattled away to the admiral and the fleet captain +and two or three lieutenants at once, while others hovered behind the +circle of her immediate adorers, to pick up the stray shafts of what +passed for wit. Other girls again drove two-in-hand, at the most, in the +way of conversation; while those least gifted could only encounter one +small Frenchman in some safe corner, and converse chiefly by smiles and +signs. + +On the whole, the evening opened gayly. Newly arrived Frenchmen are apt +to be so unused to the familiar society of unmarried girls, that the +most innocent share in it has for them the zest of forbidden fruit, and +the most blameless intercourse seems almost a bonne fortune. Most of +these officers were from the lower ranks of French society, but they all +had that good-breeding which their race wears with such ease, and can +unhappily put off with the same. + +The admiral and the fleet captain were soon turned over to Hope, who +spoke French as she did English, with quiet grace. She found them +agreeable companions, while Emilia drifted among the elder midshipmen, +who were dazzling in gold lace if not in intellect. Kate fell to the +share of a vehement little surgeon, who danced her out of breath. Harry +officiated as interpreter between the governor of the State and a lively +young ensign, who yearned for the society of dignitaries. The governor +was quite aware that he himself could not speak French; the Frenchman +was quite unaware that he himself could not speak English; but with +Harry’s aid they plunged boldly into conversation. Their talk happened +to fall on steam-engines, English, French, American; their comparative +cost, comparative power, comparative cost per horse power,--until Harry, +who was not very strong upon the steam-engine in his own tongue, and was +quite helpless on that point in any other, got a good deal astray among +the numerals, and implanted some rather wild statistics in the mind of +each. The young Frenchman was far more definite, when requested by the +governor to state in English the precise number of men engaged on board +the corvette. With the accuracy of his nation, he beamingly replied, +“Seeshundredtousand.” + +As is apt to be the case in Oldport, other European nationalities beside +the French were represented, though the most marked foreign accent was +of course to be found among Americans just returned. There were European +diplomatists who spoke English perfectly; there were travellers who +spoke no English at all; and as usual each guest sought to practise +himself in the tongue he knew least. There was the usual eagerness among +the fashionable vulgar to make acquaintance with anything that combined +broken English and a title; and two minutes after a Russian prince had +seated himself comfortably on a sofa beside Kate, he was vehemently +tapped on the shoulder by Mrs. Courtenay Brash with the endearing +summons: “Why! Prince, I didn’t see as you was here. Do you set +comfortable where you be? Come over to this window, and tell all you +know!” + +The prince might have felt that his summons was abrupt, but knew not +that it was ungrammatical, and so was led away in triumph. He had been +but a month or two in this country, and so spoke our language no more +correctly than Mrs. Brash, but only with more grace. There was no great +harm in Mrs. Brash; like most loquacious people, she was kind-hearted, +with a tendency to corpulence and good works. She was also afflicted +with a high color, and a chronic eruption of diamonds. Her husband +had an eye for them, having begun life as a jeweller’s apprentice, and +having developed sufficient sharpness of vision in other directions to +become a millionnaire, and a Congressman, and to let his wife do as she +pleased. + +What goes forth from the lips may vary in dialect, but wine and oysters +speak the universal language. The supper-table brought our party +together, and they compared notes. + +“Parties are very confusing,” philosophized Hope,--“especially when +waiters and partners dress so much alike. Just now I saw an ill-looking +man elbowing his way up to Mrs. Meredith, and I thought he was bringing +her something on a plate. Instead of that, it was his hand he held out, +and she put hers into it; and I was told that he was one of the leaders +of society. There are very few gentlemen here whom I could positively +tell from the waiters by their faces, and yet Harry says the fast set +are not here.” + +“Talk of the angels!” said Philip. “There come the Inglesides.” + +Through the door of the supper-room they saw entering the drawing-room +one of those pretty, fair-haired women who grow older up to twenty-five +and then remain unchanged till sixty. She was dressed in the loveliest +pale blue silk, very low in the neck, and she seemed to smile on all +with her white teeth and her white shoulders. This was Mrs. Ingleside. +With her came her daughter Blanche, a pretty blonde, whose bearing +seemed at first as innocent and pastoral as her name. Her dress was of +spotless white, what there was of it; and her skin was so snowy, you +could hardly tell where the dress ended. Her complexion was exquisite, +her eyes of the softest blue; at twenty-three she did not look more +than seventeen; and yet there was such a contrast between these virginal +traits, and the worn, faithless, hopeless expression, that she looked, +as Philip said, like a depraved lamb. Does it show the higher nature +of woman, that, while “fast young men” are content to look like +well-dressed stable boys and billiard-markers, one may observe that +girls of the corresponding type are apt to addict themselves to white +and rosebuds, and pose themselves for falling angels? + +Mrs. Ingleside was a stray widow (from New Orleans via Paris), into +whose antecedents it was best not to inquire too closely. After many +ups and downs, she was at present up. It was difficult to state with +certainty what bad deed she had ever done, or what good deed. She simply +lived by her wits, and perhaps by some want of that article in her +male friends. Her house was a sort of gentlemanly clubhouse, where the +presence of two women offered a shade less restraint than if there had +been men alone. She was amiable and unscrupulous, went regularly to +church, and needed only money to be the most respectable and fastidious +of women. It was always rather a mystery who paid for her charming +little dinners; indeed, several things in her demeanor were +questionable, but as the questions were never answered, no harm was +done, and everybody invited her because everybody else did. Had she +committed some graceful forgery tomorrow, or some mild murder the next +day, nobody would have been surprised, and all her intimate friends +would have said it was what they had always expected. + +Meantime the entertainment went on. + +“I shall not have scalloped oysters in heaven,” lamented Kate, as she +finished with healthy appetite her first instalment. + +“Are you sure you shall not?” said the sympathetic Hope, who would have +eagerly followed Kate into Paradise with a supply of whatever she liked +best. + +“I suppose you will, darling,” responded Kate, “but what will you care? +It seems hard that those who are bad enough to long for them should not +be good enough to earn them.” + +At this moment Blanche Ingleside and her train swept into the +supper-room; the girls cleared a passage, their attendant youths +collected chairs. Blanche tilted hers slightly against a wall, professed +utter exhaustion, and demanded a fresh bottle of champagne in a voice +that showed no signs of weakness. Presently a sheepish youth drew near +the noisy circle. + +“Here comes that Talbot van Alsted,” said Blanche, bursting at last into +a loud whisper. “What a goose he is, to be sure! Dear baby, it promised +its mother it wouldn’t drink wine for two months. Let’s all drink with +him. Talbot, my boy, just in time! Fill your glass. Stosst an!” + +And Blanche and her attendant spirits in white muslin thronged around +the weak boy, saw him charged with the three glasses that were all his +head could stand, and sent him reeling home to his mother. Then they +looked round for fresh worlds to conquer. + +“There are the Maxwells!” said Miss Ingleside, without lowering +her voice. “Who is that party in the high-necked dress? Is she the +schoolmistress? Why do they have such people here? Society is getting so +common, there is no bearing it. That Emily who is with her is too +good for that slow set. She’s the school-girl we heard of at Nice, or +somewhere; she wanted to elope with somebody, and Phil Malbone stopped +her, worse luck. She will be for eloping with us, before long.” + +Emilia colored scarlet, and gave a furtive glance at Hope, half of +shame, half of triumph. Hope looked at Blanche with surprise, made +a movement forward, but was restrained by the crowd, while the noisy +damsel broke out in a different direction. + +“How fiendishly hot it is here, though! Jones junior, put your elbow +through that window! This champagne is boiling. What a tiresome time we +shall have to-morrow, when the Frenchmen are gone! Ah, Count, there you +are at last! Ready for the German? Come for me? Just primed and up to +anything, and so I tell you!” + +But as Count Posen, kissing his hand to her, squeezed his way through +the crowd with Hal, to be presented to Hope, there came over Blanche’s +young face such a mingled look of hatred and weariness and chagrin, that +even her unobserving friends saw it, and asked with tender commiseration +what was up. + +The dancing recommenced. There was the usual array of partners, +distributed by mysterious discrepancies, like soldiers’ uniforms, so +that all the tall drew short, and all the short had tall. There were the +timid couples, who danced with trembling knees and eyes cast over their +shoulders; the feeble couples, who meandered aimlessly and got tangled +in corners; the rash couples, who tore breathlessly through the +rooms and brought up at last against the large white waistcoat of the +violon-cello. There was the professional lady-killer, too supreme and +indolent to dance, but sitting amid an admiring bevy of fair women, +where he reared his head of raven curls, and pulled ceaselessly +his black mustache. And there were certain young girls who, having +astonished the community for a month by the lowness of their dresses, +now brought to bear their only remaining art, and struck everybody dumb +by appearing clothed. All these came and went and came again, and had +their day or their night, and danced until the robust Hope went home +exhausted and left her more fragile cousins to dance on till morning. +Indeed, it was no easy thing for them to tear themselves away; Kate was +always in demand; Philip knew everybody, and had that latest aroma of +Paris which the soul of fashion covets; Harry had the tried endurance +which befits brothers and lovers at balls; while Emilia’s foreign court +held out till morning, and one handsome young midshipman, in special, +kept revolving back to her after each long orbit of separation, like a +gold-laced comet. + +The young people lingered extravagantly late at that ball, for the +corvette was to sail next day, and the girls were willing to make the +most of it. As they came to the outer door, the dawn was inexpressibly +beautiful,--deep rose melting into saffron, beneath a tremulous morning +star. With a sudden impulse, they agreed to walk home, the fresh air +seemed so delicious. Philip and Emilia went first, outstripping the +others. + +Passing the Jewish cemetery, Kate and Harry paused a moment. The sky was +almost cloudless, the air was full of a thousand scents and songs, the +rose-tints in the sky were deepening, the star paling, while a few vague +clouds went wandering upward, and dreamed themselves away. + +“There is a grave in that cemetery,” said Kate, gently, “where lovers +should always be sitting. It lies behind that tall monument; I cannot +see it for the blossoming boughs. There were two young cousins who loved +each other from childhood, but were separated, because Jews do not allow +such unions. Neither of them was ever married; and they lived to be +very old, the one in New Orleans, the other at the North. In their last +illnesses each dreamed of walking in the fields with the other, as in +their early days; and the telegraphic despatches that told their deaths +crossed each other on the way. That is his monument, and her grave was +made behind it; there was no room for a stone.” + +Kate moved a step or two, that she might see the graves. The branches +opened clear. What living lovers had met there, at this strange hour, +above the dust of lovers dead? She saw with amazement, and walked on +quickly that Harry might not also see. + +It was Emilia who sat beside the grave, her dark hair drooping and +dishevelled, her carnation cheek still brilliant after the night’s +excitement; and he who sat at her feet, grasping her hand in both of +his, while his lips poured out passionate words to which she eagerly +listened, was Philip Malbone. + +Here, upon the soil of a new nation, lay a spot whose associations +seemed already as old as time could make them,--the last footprint of +a tribe now vanished from this island forever,--the resting-place of a +race whose very funerals would soon be no more. Each April the robins +built their nests around these crumbling stones, each May they reared +their broods, each June the clover blossomed, each July the wild +strawberries grew cool and red; all around was youth and life and +ecstasy, and yet the stones bore inscriptions in an unknown language, +and the very graves seemed dead. + +And lovelier than all the youth of Nature, little Emilia sat there +in the early light, her girlish existence gliding into that drama of +passion which is older than the buried nations, older than time, than +death, than all things save life and God. + + + + +VIII. TALKING IT OVER. + +AUNT JANE was eager to hear about the ball, and called everybody into +her breakfast-parlor the next morning. She was still hesitating about +her bill of fare. + +“I wish somebody would invent a new animal,” she burst forth. “How +those sheep bleated last night! I know it was an expression of shame for +providing such tiresome food.” + +“You must not be so carnally minded, dear,” said Kate. “You must be very +good and grateful, and not care for your breakfast. Somebody says that +mutton chops with wit are a great deal better than turtle without.” + +“A very foolish somebody,” pronounced Aunt Jane. “I have had a great +deal of wit in my life, and very little turtle. Dear child, do not +excite me with impossible suggestions. There are dropped eggs, I might +have those. They look so beautifully, if it only were not necessary to +eat them. Yes, I will certainly have dropped eggs. I think Ruth could +drop them; she drops everything else.” + +“Poor little Ruth!” said Kate. “Not yet grown up!” + +“She will never grow up,” said Aunt Jane, “but she thinks she is a +woman; she even thinks she has a lover. O that in early life I had +provided myself with a pair of twins from some asylum; then I should +have had some one to wait on me.” + +“Perhaps they would have been married too,” said Kate. + +“They should never have been married,” retorted Aunt Jane. “They should +have signed a paper at five years old to do no such thing. Yesterday I +told a lady that I was enraged that a servant should presume to have a +heart, and the woman took it seriously and began to argue with me. To +think of living in a town where one person could be so idiotic! Such a +town ought to be extinguished from the universe.” + +“Auntie!” said Kate, sternly, “you must grow more charitable.” + +“Must I?” said Aunt Jane; “it will not be at all becoming. I have +thought about it; often have I weighed it in my mind whether to be +monotonously lovely; but I have always thrust it away. It must make life +so tedious. It is too late for me to change,--at least, anything about +me but my countenance, and that changes the wrong way. Yet I feel so +young and fresh; I look in my glass every morning to see if I have not +a new face, but it never comes. I am not what is called well-favored. In +fact, I am not favored at all. Tell me about the party.” + +“What shall I tell?” said Kate. + +“Tell me what people were there,” said Aunt Jane, “and how they were +dressed; who were the happiest and who the most miserable. I think I +would rather hear about the most miserable,--at least, till I have my +breakfast.” + +“The most miserable person I saw,” said Kate, “was Mrs. Meredith. It was +very amusing to hear her and Hope talk at cross-purposes. You know her +daughter Helen is in Paris, and the mother seemed very sad about her. A +lady was asking if something or other were true; ‘Too true,’ said Mrs. +Meredith; ‘with every opportunity she has had no real success. It was +not the poor child’s fault. She was properly presented; but as yet she +has had no success at all.’ + +“Hope looked up, full of sympathy. She thought Helen must be some +disappointed school-teacher, and felt an interest in her immediately. +‘Will there not be another examination?’ she asked. ‘What an odd +phrase,’ said Mrs. Meredith, looking rather disdainfully at Hope. ‘No, I +suppose we must give it up, if that is what you mean. The only remaining +chance is in the skating. I had particular attention paid to Helen’s +skating on that very account. How happy shall I be, if my foresight is +rewarded!’ + +“Hope thought this meant physical education, to be sure, and fancied +that handsome Helen Meredith opening a school for calisthenics in Paris! +Luckily she did not say anything. Then the other lady said, solemnly, +‘My dear Mrs. Meredith, it is too true. No one can tell how things will +turn out in society. How often do we see girls who were not looked at in +America, and yet have a great success in Paris; then other girls go out +who were here very much admired, and they have no success at all.’ + +“Hope understood it all then, but she took it very calmly. I was so +indignant, I could hardly help speaking. I wanted to say that it was +outrageous. The idea of American mothers training their children for +exhibition before what everybody calls the most corrupt court in Europe! +Then if they can catch the eye of the Emperor or the Empress by their +faces or their paces, that is called success!” + +“Good Americans when they die go to Paris,” said Philip, “so says the +oracle. Naughty Americans try it prematurely, and go while they are +alive. Then Paris casts them out, and when they come back, their French +disrepute is their stock in trade.” + +“I think,” said the cheerful Hope, “that it is not quite so bad.” Hope +always thought things not so bad. She went on. “I was very dull not +to know what Mrs. Meredith was talking about. Helen Meredith is a +warm-hearted, generous girl, and will not go far wrong, though her +mother is not as wise as she is well-bred. But Kate forgets that the few +hundred people one sees here or at Paris do not represent the nation, +after all.” + +“The most influential part of it,” said Emilia. + +“Are you sure, dear?” said her sister. “I do not think they influence +it half so much as a great many people who are too busy to go to either +place. I always remember those hundred girls at the Normal School, and +that they were not at all like Mrs. Meredith, nor would they care to be +like her, any more than she would wish to be like them.” + +“They have not had the same advantages,” said Emilia. + +“Nor the same disadvantages,” said Hope. “Some of them are not so well +bred, and none of them speak French so well, for she speaks exquisitely. +But in all that belongs to real training of the mind, they seem to me +superior, and that is why I think they will have more influence.” + +“None of them are rich, though, I suppose,” said Emilia, “nor of very +nice families, or they would not be teachers. So they will not be so +prominent in society.” + +“But they may yet become very prominent in society,” said Hope,--“they +or their pupils or their children. At any rate, it is as certain that +the noblest lives will have most influence in the end, as that two and +two make four.” + +“Is that certain?” said Philip. “Perhaps there are worlds where two and +two do not make just that desirable amount.” + +“I trust there are,” said Aunt Jane. “Perhaps I was intended to be born +in one of them, and that is why my housekeeping accounts never add up.” + +Here hope was called away, and Emilia saucily murmured, “Sour grapes!” + +“Not a bit of it!” cried Kate, indignantly. “Hope might have anything in +society she wishes, if she would only give up some of her own plans, and +let me choose her dresses, and her rich uncles pay for them. Count Posen +told me, only yesterday, that there was not a girl in Oldport with such +an air as hers.” + +“Not Kate herself?” said Emilia, slyly. + +“I?” said Kate. “What am I? A silly chit of a thing, with about a dozen +ideas in my head, nearly every one of which was planted there by Hope. +I like the nonsense of the world very well as it is, and without her I +should have cared for nothing else. Count Posen asked me the other day, +which country produced on the whole the most womanly women, France or +America. He is one of the few foreigners who expect a rational answer. +So I told him that I knew very little of Frenchwomen personally, but +that I had read French novels ever since I was born, and there was not +a woman worthy to be compared with Hope in any of them, except Consuelo, +and even she told lies.” + +“Do not begin upon Hope,” said Aunt Jane. “It is the only subject +on which Kate can be tedious. Tell me about the dresses. Were people +over-dressed or under-dressed?” + +“Under-dressed,” said Phil. “Miss Ingleside had a half-inch strip of +muslin over her shoulder.” + +Here Philip followed Hope out of the room, and Emilia presently followed +him. + +“Tell on!” said Aunt Jane. “How did Philip enjoy himself?” + +“He is easily amused, you know,” said Kate. “He likes to observe people, +and to shoot folly as it flies.” + +“It does not fly,” retorted the elder lady. “I wish it did. You can +shoot it sitting, at least where Philip is.” + +“Auntie,” said Kate, “tell me truly your objection to Philip. I think +you did not like his parents. Had he not a good mother?” + +“She was good,” said Aunt Jane, reluctantly, “but it was that kind of +goodness which is quite offensive.” + +“And did you know his father well?” + +“Know him!” exclaimed Aunt Jane. “I should think I did. I have sat up +all night to hate him.” + +“That was very wrong,” said Kate, decisively. “You do not mean that. You +only mean that you did not admire him very much.” + +“I never admired a dozen people in my life, Kate. I once made a list of +them. There were six women, three men, and a Newfoundland dog.” + +“What happened?” said Kate. “The Is-raelites died after Pharaoh, or +somebody, numbered them. Did anything happen to yours?” + +“It was worse with mine,” said Aunt Jane. “I grew tired of some and +others I forgot, till at last there was nobody left but the dog, and he +died.” + +“Was Philip’s father one of them?” + +“No.” + +“Tell me about him,” said Kate, firmly. + +“Ruth,” said the elder lady, as her young handmaiden passed the door +with her wonted demureness, “come here; no, get me a glass of water. +Kate! I shall die of that girl. She does some idiotic thing, and then +she looks in here with that contented, beaming look. There is an air of +baseless happiness about her that drives me nearly frantic.” + +“Never mind about that,” persisted Kate. “Tell me about Philip’s father. +What was the matter with him?” + +“My dear,” Aunt Jane at last answered,--with that fearful moderation +to which she usually resorted when even her stock of superlatives was +exhausted,--“he belonged to a family for whom truth possessed even less +than the usual attractions.” + +This neat epitaph implied the erection of a final tombstone over the +whole race, and Kate asked no more. + +Meantime Malbone sat at the western door with Harry, and was running +on with one of his tirades, half jest, half earnest, against American +society. + +“In America,” he said, “everything which does not tend to money is +thought to be wasted, as our Quaker neighbor thinks the children’s +croquet-ground wasted, because it is not a potato field.” + +“Not just!” cried Harry. “Nowhere is there more respect for those who +give their lives to intellectual pursuits.” + +“What are intellectual pursuits?” said Philip. “Editing daily +newspapers? Teaching arithmetic to children? I see no others flourishing +hereabouts.” + +“Science and literature,” answered Harry. + +“Who cares for literature in America,” said Philip, “after a man rises +three inches above the newspaper level? Nobody reads Thoreau; only an +insignificant fraction read Emerson, or even Hawthorne. The majority of +people have hardly even heard their names. What inducement has a writer? +Nobody has any weight in America who is not in Congress, and nobody gets +into Congress without the necessity of bribing or button-holing men whom +he despises.” + +“But you do not care for public life?” said Harry. + +“No,” said Malbone, “therefore this does not trouble me, but it troubles +you. I am content. My digestion is good. I can always amuse myself. Why +are you not satisfied?” + +“Because you are not,” said Harry. “You are dissatisfied with men, and +so you care chiefly to amuse yourself with women and children.” + +“I dare say,” said Malbone, carelessly. “They are usually less +ungraceful and talk better grammar.” + +“But American life does not mean grace nor grammar. We are all living +for the future. Rough work now, and the graces by and by.” + +“That is what we Americans always say,” retorted Philip. “Everything +is in the future. What guaranty have we for that future? I see none. We +make no progress towards the higher arts, except in greater quantities +of mediocrity. We sell larger editions of poor books. Our artists fill +larger frames and travel farther for materials; but a ten-inch canvas +would tell all they have to say.” + +“The wrong point of view,” said Hal. “If you begin with high art, you +begin at the wrong end. The first essential for any nation is to put +the mass of the people above the reach of want. We are all usefully +employed, if we contribute to that.” + +“So is the cook usefully employed while preparing dinner,” said Philip. +“Nevertheless, I do not wish to live in the kitchen.” + +“Yet you always admire your own country,” said Harry, “so long as you +are in Europe.” + +“No doubt,” said Philip. “I do not object to the kitchen at that +distance. And to tell the truth, America looks well from Europe. +No culture, no art seems so noble as this far-off spectacle of a +self-governing people. The enthusiasm lasts till one’s return. Then +there seems nothing here but to work hard and keep out of mischief.” + +“That is something,” said Harry. + +“A good deal in America,” said Phil. “We talk about the immorality of +older countries. Did you ever notice that no class of men are so apt +to take to drinking as highly cultivated Americans? It is a very +demoralizing position, when one’s tastes outgrow one’s surroundings. +Positively, I think a man is more excusable for coveting his neighbor’s +wife in America than in Europe, because there is so little else to +covet.” + +“Malbone!” said Hal, “what has got into you? Do you know what things you +are saying?” + +“Perfectly,” was the unconcerned reply. “I am not arguing; I am only +testifying. I know that in Paris, for instance, I myself have no +temptations. Art and history are so delightful, I absolutely do not care +for the society even of women; but here, where there is nothing to do, +one must have some stimulus, and for me, who hate drinking, they are, at +least, a more refined excitement.” + +“More dangerous,” said Hal. “Infinitely more dangerous, in the morbid +way in which you look at life. What have these sickly fancies to do with +the career that opens to every brave man in a great nation?” + +“They have everything to do with it, and there are many for whom there +is no career. As the nation develops, it must produce men of high +culture. Now there is no place for them except as bookkeepers or +pedagogues or newspaper reporters. Meantime the incessant unintellectual +activity is only a sublime bore to those who stand aside.” + +“Then why stand aside?” persisted the downright Harry. + +“I have no place in it but a lounging-place,” said Malbone. “I do not +wish to chop blocks with a razor. I envy those men, born mere Americans, +with no ambition in life but to ‘swing a railroad’ as they say at the +West. Every morning I hope to wake up like them in the fear of God and +the love of money.” + +“You may as well stop,” said Harry, coloring a little. “Malbone, you +used to be my ideal man in my boyhood, but”-- + +“I am glad we have got beyond that,” interrupted the other, cheerily, +“I am only an idler in the land. Meanwhile, I have my little +interests,--read, write, sketch--” + +“Flirt?” put in Hal, with growing displeasure. + +“Not now,” said Phil, patting his shoulder, with imperturbable +good-nature. “Our beloved has cured me of that. He who has won the pearl +dives no more.” + +“Do not let us speak of Hope,” said Harry. “Everything that you have +been asserting Hope’s daily life disproves.” + +“That may be,” answered Malbone, heartily. “But, Hal, I never flirted; +I always despised it. It was always a grande passion with me, or what +I took for such. I loved to be loved, I suppose; and there was always +something new and fascinating to be explored in a human heart, that is, +a woman’s.” + +“Some new temple to profane?” asked Hal severely. + +“Never!” said Philip. “I never profaned it. If I deceived, I shared the +deception, at least for a time; and, as for sensuality, I had none in +me.” + +“Did you have nothing worse? Rousseau ends where Tom Jones begins.” + +“My temperament saved me,” said Philip. “A woman is not a woman to me, +without personal refinement.” + +“Just what Rousseau said,” replied Harry. + +“I acted upon it,” answered Malbone. “No one dislikes Blanche Ingleside +and her demi monde more than I.” + +“You ought not,” was the retort. “You help to bring other girls to her +level.” + +“Whom?” said Malbone, startled. + +“Emilia.” + +“Emilia?” repeated the other, coloring crimson. “I, who have warned her +against Blanche’s society.” + +“And have left her no other resource,” said Harry, coloring still more. +“Malbone, you have gained (unconsciously of course) too much power +over that girl, and the only effect of it is, to keep her in perpetual +excitement. So she seeks Blanche, as she would any other strong +stimulant. Hope does not seem to have discovered this, but Kate has, and +I have.” + +Hope came in, and Harry went out. The next day he came to Philip and +apologized most warmly for his unjust and inconsiderate words. Malbone, +always generous, bade him think no more about it, and Harry for that day +reverted strongly to his first faith. “So noble, so high-toned,” he said +to Kate. Indeed, a man never appears more magnanimous than in forgiving +a friend who has told him the truth. + + + + +IX. DANGEROUS WAYS. + +IT was true enough what Harry had said. Philip Malbone’s was that +perilous Rousseau-like temperament, neither sincere enough for safety, +nor false enough to alarm; the winning tenderness that thrills and +softens at the mere neighborhood of a woman, and fascinates by its +reality those whom no hypocrisy can deceive. It was a nature half +amiable, half voluptuous, that disarmed others, seeming itself unarmed. +He was never wholly ennobled by passion, for it never touched him deeply +enough; and, on the other hand, he was not hardened by the habitual +attitude of passion, for he was never really insincere. Sometimes it +seemed as if nothing stood between him and utter profligacy but a little +indolence, a little kindness, and a good deal of caution. + +“There seems no such thing as serious repentance in me,” he had once +said to Kate, two years before, when she had upbraided him with some +desperate flirtation which had looked as if he would carry it as far as +gentlemen did under King Charles II. “How does remorse begin?” + +“Where you are beginning,” said Kate. + +“I do not perceive that,” he answered. “My conscience seems, after all, +to be only a form of good-nature. I like to be stirred by emotion, I +suppose, and I like to study character. But I can always stop when it is +evident that I shall cause pain to somebody. Is there any other motive?” + +“In other words,” said she, “you apply the match, and then turn your +back on the burning house.” + +Philip colored. “How unjust you are! Of course, we all like to play with +fire, but I always put it out before it can spread. Do you think I have +no feeling?” + +Kate stopped there, I suppose. Even she always stopped soon, if she +undertook to interfere with Malbone. This charming Alcibiades always +convinced them, after the wrestling was over, that he had not been +thrown. + +The only exception to this was in the case of Aunt Jane. If she had +anything in common with Philip,--and there was a certain element of +ingenuous unconsciousness in which they were not so far unlike,--it only +placed them in the more complete antagonism. Perhaps if two beings were +in absolutely no respect alike, they never could meet even for purposes +of hostility; there must be some common ground from which the aversion +may proceed. Moreover, in this case Aunt Jane utterly disbelieved in +Malbone because she had reason to disbelieve in his father, and +the better she knew the son the more she disliked the father +retrospectively. + +Philip was apt to be very heedless of such aversions,--indeed, he had +few to heed,--but it was apparent that Aunt Jane was the only person +with whom he was not quite at ease. Still, the solicitude did not +trouble him very much, for he instinctively knew that it was not his +particular actions which vexed her, so much as his very temperament and +atmosphere,--things not to be changed. So he usually went his way; and +if he sometimes felt one of her sharp retorts, could laugh it off that +day and sleep it off before the next morning. + +For you may be sure that Philip was very little troubled by inconvenient +memories. He never had to affect forgetfulness of anything. The past +slid from him so easily, he forgot even to try to forget. He liked to +quote from Emerson, “What have I to do with repentance?” “What have my +yesterday’s errors,” he would say, “to do with the life of to-day?” + +“Everything,” interrupted Aunt Jane, “for you will repeat them to-day, +if you can.” + +“Not at all,” persisted he, accepting as conversation what she meant as +a stab. “I may, indeed, commit greater errors,”--here she grimly nodded, +as if she had no doubt of it,--“but never just the same. To-day must +take thought for itself.” + +“I wish it would,” she said, gently, and then went on with her own +thoughts while he was silent. Presently she broke out again in her +impulsive way. + +“Depend upon it,” she said, “there is very little direct retribution in +this world.” + +Phil looked up, quite pleased at her indorsing one of his favorite +views. She looked, as she always did, indignant at having said anything +to please him. + +“Yes,” said she, “it is the indirect retribution that crushes. I’ve seen +enough of that, God knows. Kate, give me my thimble.” + +Malbone had that smooth elasticity of surface which made even Aunt +Jane’s strong fingers slip from him as they might from a fish, or from +the soft, gelatinous stem of the water-target. Even in this case he only +laughed good-naturedly, and went out, whistling like a mocking-bird, to +call the children round him. + +Toward the more wayward and impulsive Emilia the good lady was far more +merciful. With all Aunt Jane’s formidable keenness, she was a little apt +to be disarmed by youth and beauty, and had no very stern retributions +except for those past middle age. Emilia especially charmed her while +she repelled. There was no getting beyond a certain point with this +strange girl, any more than with Philip; but her depths tantalized, +while his apparent shallows were only vexatious. Emilia was usually +sweet, winning, cordial, and seemed ready to glide into one’s heart as +softly as she glided into the room; she liked to please, and found it +very easy. Yet she left the impression that this smooth and delicate +loveliness went but an inch beyond the surface, like the soft, thin foam +that enamels yonder tract of ocean, belongs to it, is a part of it, yet +is, after all, but a bequest of tempests, and covers only a dark abyss +of crossing currents and desolate tangles of rootless kelp. Everybody +was drawn to her, yet not a soul took any comfort in her. Her very voice +had in it a despairing sweetness, that seemed far in advance of her +actual history; it was an anticipated miserere, a perpetual dirge, where +nothing had yet gone down. So Aunt Jane, who was wont to be perfectly +decisive in her treatment of every human being, was fluctuating and +inconsistent with Emilia. She could not help being fascinated by the +motherless child, and yet scorned herself for even the doubting love she +gave. + +“Only think, auntie,” said Kate, “how you kissed Emilia, yesterday!” + +“Of course I did,” she remorsefully owned. “I have kissed her a great +many times too often. I never will kiss her again. There is nothing but +sorrow to be found in loving her, and her heart is no larger than her +feet. Today she was not even pretty! If it were not for her voice, I +think I should never wish to see her again.” + +But when that soft, pleading voice came once more, and Emilia asked +perhaps for luncheon, in tones fit for Ophelia, Aunt Jane instantly +yielded. One might as well have tried to enforce indignation against the +Babes in the Wood. + +This perpetual mute appeal was further strengthened by a peculiar +physical habit in Emilia, which first alarmed the household, but soon +ceased to inspire terror. She fainted very easily, and had attacks at +long intervals akin to faintness, and lasting for several hours. The +physicians pronounced them cataleptic in their nature, saying that they +brought no danger, and that she would certainly outgrow them. They were +sometimes produced by fatigue, sometimes by excitement, but they brought +no agitation with them, nor any development of abnormal powers. They +simply wrapped her in a profound repose, from which no effort could +rouse her, till the trance passed by. Her eyes gradually closed, +her voice died away, and all movement ceased, save that her eyelids +sometimes trembled without opening, and sweet evanescent expressions +chased each other across her face,--the shadows of thoughts unseen. +For a time she seemed to distinguish the touch of different persons by +preference or pain; but soon even this sign of recognition vanished, and +the household could only wait and watch, while she sank into deeper and +yet deeper repose. + +There was something inexpressibly sweet, appealing, and touching in this +impenetrable slumber, when it was at its deepest. She looked so young, +so delicate, so lovely; it was as if she had entered into a shrine, and +some sacred curtain had been dropped to shield her from all the cares +and perplexities of life. She lived, she breathed, and yet all the +storms of life could but beat against her powerless, as the waves beat +on the shore. Safe in this beautiful semblance of death,--her pulse a +little accelerated, her rich color only softened, her eyelids drooping, +her exquisite mouth curved into the sweetness it had lacked in +waking,--she lay unconscious and supreme, the temporary monarch of the +household, entranced upon her throne. A few hours having passed, she +suddenly waked, and was a self-willed, passionate girl once more. When +she spoke, it was with a voice wholly natural; she had no recollection +of what had happened, and no curiosity to learn. + + + + +X. REMONSTRANCES. + +IT had been a lovely summer day, with a tinge of autumnal coolness +toward nightfall, ending in what Aunt Jane called a “quince-jelly +sunset.” Kate and Emilia sat upon the Blue Rocks, earnestly talking. + +“Promise, Emilia!” said Kate. + +Emilia said nothing. + +“Remember,” continued Kate, “he is Hope’s betrothed. Promise, promise, +promise!” + +Emilia looked into Kate’s face and saw it flushed with a generous +eagerness, that called forth an answering look in her. She tried to +speak, and the words died into silence. There was a pause, while each +watched the other. + +When one soul is grappling with another for life, such silence may last +an instant too long; and Kate soon felt her grasp slipping. Momentarily +the spell relaxed. Other thoughts swelled up, and Emilia’s eyes began to +wander; delicious memories stole in, of walks through blossoming paths +with Malbone,--of lingering steps, half-stifled words and sentences left +unfinished;--then, alas! of passionate caresses,--other blossoming paths +that only showed the way to sin, but had never quite led her there, she +fancied. There was so much to tell, more than could ever be explained or +justified. Moment by moment, farther and farther strayed the wandering +thoughts, and when the poor child looked in Kate’s face again, the mist +between them seemed to have grown wide and dense, as if neither eyes +nor words nor hands could ever meet again. When she spoke it was to say +something evasive and unimportant, and her voice was as one from the +grave. + +In truth, Philip had given Emilia his heart to play with at Neuchatel, +that he might beguile her from an attachment they had all regretted. The +device succeeded. The toy once in her hand, the passionate girl had kept +it, had clung to him with all her might; he could not shake her off. Nor +was this the worst, for to his dismay he found himself responding to +her love with a self-abandonment of ardor for which all former loves had +been but a cool preparation. He had not intended this; it seemed hardly +his fault: his intentions had been good, or at least not bad. This +piquant and wonderful fruit of nature, this girlish soul, he had merely +touched it and it was his. Its mere fragrance was intoxicating. Good +God! what should he do with it? + +No clear answer coming, he had drifted on with that terrible facility +for which years of self-indulged emotion had prepared him. Each step, +while it was intended to be the last, only made some other last step +needful. + +He had begun wrong, for he had concealed his engagement, fancying that +he could secure a stronger influence over this young girl without the +knowledge. He had come to her simply as a friend of her Transatlantic +kindred; and she, who was always rather indifferent to them, asked no +questions, nor made the discovery till too late. Then, indeed, she +had burst upon him with an impetuous despair that had alarmed him. +He feared, not that she would do herself any violence, for she had +a childish dread of death, but that she would show some desperate +animosity toward Hope, whenever they should meet. After a long struggle, +he had touched, not her sense of justice, for she had none, but her love +for him; he had aroused her tenderness and her pride. + +Without his actual assurance, she yet believed that he would release +himself in some way from his betrothal, and love only her. + +Malbone had fortunately great control over Emilia when near her, and +could thus keep the sight of this stormy passion from the pure and +unconscious Hope. But a new distress opened before him, from the time +when he again touched Hope’s hand. The close intercourse of the voyage +had given him for the time almost a surfeit of the hot-house atmosphere +of Emilia’s love. The first contact of Hope’s cool, smooth fingers, +the soft light of her clear eyes, the breezy grace of her motions, the +rose-odors that clung around her, brought back all his early passion. +Apart from this voluptuousness of the heart into which he had fallen, +Malbone’s was a simple and unspoiled nature; he had no vices, and had +always won popularity too easily to be obliged to stoop for it; so all +that was noblest in him paid allegiance to Hope. From the moment they +again met, his wayward heart reverted to her. He had been in a dream, he +said to himself; he would conquer it and be only hers; he would go away +with her into the forests and green fields she loved, or he would share +in the life of usefulness for which she yearned. But then, what was he +to do with this little waif from the heart’s tropics,--once tampered +with, in an hour of mad dalliance, and now adhering in-separably to his +life? Supposing him ready to separate from her, could she be detached +from him? + +Kate’s anxieties, when she at last hinted them to Malbone, only sent him +further into revery. “How is it,” he asked himself, “that when I only +sought to love and be loved, I have thus entangled myself in the fate of +others? How is one’s heart to be governed? Is there any such governing? +Mlle. Clairon complained that, so soon as she became seriously attached +to any one, she was sure to meet somebody else whom she liked better. +Have human hearts,” he said, “or at least, has my heart, no more +stability than this?” + +It did not help the matter when Emilia went to stay awhile with Mrs. +Meredith. The event came about in this way. Hope and Kate had been to a +dinner-party, and were as usual reciting their experiences to Aunt Jane. + +“Was it pleasant?” said that sympathetic lady. + +“It was one of those dreadfully dark dining-rooms,” said Hope, seating +herself at the open window. + +“Why do they make them look so like tombs?” said Kate. + +“Because,” said her aunt, “most Americans pass from them to the tomb, +after eating such indigestible things. There is a wish for a gentle +transition.” + +“Aunt Jane,” said Hope, “Mrs. Meredith asks to have a little visit from +Emilia. Do you think she had better go?” + +“Mrs. Meredith?” asked Aunt Jane. “Is that woman alive yet?” + +“Why, auntie!” said Kate. “We were talking about her only a week ago.” + +“Perhaps so,” conceded Aunt Jane, reluctantly. “But it seems to me she +has great length of days!” + +“How very improperly you are talking, dear!” said Kate. “She is not more +than forty, and you are--” + +“Fifty-four,” interrupted the other. + +“Then she has not seen nearly so many days as you.” + +“But they are such long days! That is what I must have meant. One of her +days is as long as three of mine. She is so tiresome!” + +“She does not tire you very often,” said Kate. + +“She comes once a year,” said Aunt Jane. “And then it is not to see +me. She comes out of respect to the memory of my great-aunt, with whom +Talleyrand fell in love, when he was in America, before Mrs. Meredith +was born. Yes, Emilia may as well go.” + +So Emilia went. To provide her with companionship, Mrs. Meredith kindly +had Blanche Ingleside to stay there also. Blanche stayed at different +houses a good deal. To do her justice, she was very good company, when +put upon her best behavior, and beyond the reach of her demure mamma. +She was always in spirits, often good-natured, and kept everything in +lively motion, you may be sure. She found it not unpleasant, in rich +houses, to escape some of those little domestic parsimonies which +the world saw not in her own; and to secure this felicity she could +sometimes lay great restraints upon herself, for as much as twenty-four +hours. She seemed a little out of place, certainly, amid the precise +proprieties of Mrs. Meredith’s establishment. But Blanche and her mother +still held their place in society, and it was nothing to Mrs. Meredith +who came to her doors, but only from what other doors they came. + +She would have liked to see all “the best houses” connected by secret +galleries or underground passages, of which she and a few others should +hold the keys. A guest properly presented could then go the rounds of +all unerringly, leaving his card at each, while improper acquaintances +in vain howled for admission at the outer wall. For the rest, her ideal +of social happiness was a series of perfectly ordered entertainments, +at each of which there should be precisely the same guests, the same +topics, the same supper, and the same ennui. + + + + +XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI. + +MALBONE stood one morning on the pier behind the house. A two days’ +fog was dispersing. The southwest breeze rippled the deep blue water; +sailboats, blue, red, and green, were darting about like white-winged +butterflies; sloops passed and repassed, cutting the air with the white +and slender points of their gaff-topsails. The liberated sunbeams spread +and penetrated everywhere, and even came up to play (reflected from +the water) beneath the shadowy, overhanging counters of dark vessels. +Beyond, the atmosphere was still busy in rolling away its vapors, +brushing the last gray fringes from the low hills, and leaving over them +only the thinnest aerial veil. Farther down the bay, the pale tower +of the crumbling fort was now shrouded, now revealed, then hung with +floating lines of vapor as with banners. + +Hope came down on the pier to Malbone, who was looking at the boats. +He saw with surprise that her calm brow was a little clouded, her lips +compressed, and her eyes full of tears. + +“Philip,” she said, abruptly, “do you love me?” + +“Do you doubt it?” said he, smiling, a little uneasily. + +Fixing her eyes upon him, she said, more seriously: “There is a more +important question, Philip. Tell me truly, do you care about Emilia?” + +He started at the words, and looked eagerly in her face for an +explanation. Her expression only showed the most anxious solicitude. + +For one moment the wild impulse came up in his mind to put an entire +trust in this truthful woman, and tell her all. Then the habit of +concealment came back to him, the dull hopelessness of a divided duty, +and the impossibility of explanations. How could he justify himself to +her when he did not really know himself? So he merely said, “Yes.” + +“She is your sister,” he added, in an explanatory tone, after a pause; +and despised himself for the subterfuge. It is amazing how long a man +may be false in action before he ceases to shrink from being false in +words. + +“Philip,” said the unsuspecting Hope, “I knew that you cared about her. +I have seen you look at her with so much affection; and then again I +have seen you look cold and almost stern. She notices it, I am sure she +does, this changeableness. But this is not why I ask the question. I +think you must have seen something else that I have been observing, and +if you care about her, even for my sake, it is enough.” + +Here Philip started, and felt relieved. + +“You must be her friend,” continued Hope, eagerly. “She has changed her +whole manner and habits very fast. Blanche Ingleside and that set seem +to have wholly controlled her, and there is something reckless in all +her ways. You are the only person who can help her.” + +“How?” + +“I do not know how,” said Hope, almost impatiently. “You know how. You +have wonderful influence. You saved her before, and will do it again. I +put her in your hands.” + +“What can I do for her?” asked he, with a strange mingling of terror and +delight. + +“Everything,” said she. “If she has your society, she will not care for +those people, so much her inferiors in character. Devote yourself to her +for a time.” + +“And leave you?” said Philip, hesitatingly. + +“Anything, anything,” said she. “If I do not see you for a month, I can +bear it. Only promise me two things. First, that you will go to her this +very day. She dines with Mrs. Ingleside.” + +Philip agreed. + +“Then,” said Hope, with saddened tones, “you must not say it was I who +sent you. Indeed you must not. That would spoil all. Let her think +that your own impulse leads you, and then she will yield. I know Emilia +enough for that.” + +Malbone paused, half in ecstasy, half in dismay. Were all the events +of life combining to ruin or to save him? This young girl, whom he so +passionately loved, was she to be thrust back into his arms, and was he +to be told to clasp her and be silent? And that by Hope, and in the name +of duty? + +It seemed a strange position, even for him who was so eager for fresh +experiences and difficult combinations. At Hope’s appeal he was to risk +Hope’s peace forever; he was to make her sweet sisterly affection its +own executioner. In obedience to her love he must revive Emilia’s. The +tender intercourse which he had been trying to renounce as a crime +must be rebaptized as a duty. Was ever a man placed, he thought, in a +position so inextricable, so disastrous? What could he offer Emilia? How +could he explain to her his position? He could not even tell her that it +was at Hope’s command he sought her. + +He who is summoned to rescue a drowning man, knowing that he himself may +go down with that inevitable clutch around his neck, is placed in some +such situation as Philip’s. Yet Hope had appealed to him so simply, had +trusted him so nobly! Suppose that, by any self-control, or wisdom, or +unexpected aid of Heaven, he could serve both her and Emilia, was it not +his duty? What if it should prove that he was right in loving them +both, and had only erred when he cursed himself for tampering with their +destinies? Perhaps, after all, the Divine Love had been guiding him, and +at some appointed signal all these complications were to be cleared, and +he and his various loves were somehow to be ingeniously provided for, +and all be made happy ever after. + +He really grew quite tender and devout over these meditations. Phil was +not a conceited fellow, by any means, but he had been so often told by +women that their love for him had been a blessing to their souls, that +he quite acquiesced in being a providential agent in that particular +direction. Considered as a form of self-sacrifice, it was not without +its pleasures. + +Malbone drove that afternoon to Mrs. Ingleside’s charming abode, whither +a few ladies were wont to resort, and a great many gentlemen. He timed +his call between the hours of dining and driving, and made sure that +Emilia had not yet emerged. Two or three equipages beside his own were +in waiting at the gate, and gay voices resounded from the house. A +servant received him at the door, and taking him for a tardy guest, +ushered him at once into the dining-room. He was indifferent to this, +for he had been too often sought as a guest by Mrs. Ingleside to stand +on any ceremony beneath her roof. + +That fair hostess, in all the beauty of her shoulders, rose to greet +him, from a table where six or eight guests yet lingered over flowers +and wine. The gentlemen were smoking, and some of the ladies were trying +to look at ease with cigarettes. Malbone knew the whole company, +and greeted them with his accustomed ease. He would not have been +embarrassed if they had been the Forty Thieves. Some of them, indeed, +were not so far removed from that fabled band, only it was their +fortunes, instead of themselves, that lay in the jars of oil. + +“You find us all here,” said Mrs. Ingleside, sweetly. “We will wait till +the gentlemen finish their cigars, before driving.” + +“Count me in, please,” said Blanche, in her usual vein of frankness. +“Unless mamma wishes me to conclude my weed on the Avenue. It would be +fun, though. Fancy the dismay of the Frenchmen and the dowagers!” + +“And old Lambert,” said one of the other girls, delightedly. + +“Yes,” said Blanche. “The elderly party from the rural districts, who +talks to us about the domestic virtues of the wife of his youth.” + +“Thinks women should cruise with a broom at their mast-heads, like +Admiral somebody in England,” said another damsel, who was rolling a +cigarette for a midshipman. + +“You see we do not follow the English style,” said the smooth hostess +to Philip. “Ladies retiring after dinner! After all, it is a coarse +practice. You agree with me, Mr. Malbone?” + +“Speak your mind,” said Blanche, coolly. “Don’t say yes if you’d rather +not. Because we find a thing a bore, you’ve no call to say so.” + +“I always say,” continued the matron, “that the presence of woman is +needed as a refining influence.” + +Malbone looked round for the refining influences. Blanche was tilted +back in her chair, with one foot on the rung of the chair before her, +resuming a loud-toned discourse with Count Posen as to his projected +work on American society. She was trying to extort a promise that she +should appear in its pages, which, as we all remember, she did. One +of her attendant nymphs sat leaning her elbows on the table, “talking +horse” with a gentleman who had an undoubted professional claim to a +knowledge of that commodity. Another, having finished her manufactured +cigarette, was making the grinning midshipman open his lips wider and +wider to receive it. Mrs. Ingleside was talking in her mincing way with +a Jew broker, whose English was as imperfect as his morals, and who +needed nothing to make him a millionnaire but a turn of bad luck for +somebody else. Half the men in the room would have felt quite ill at +ease in any circle of refined women, but there was not one who did not +feel perfectly unembarrassed around Mrs. Ingleside’s board. + +“Upon my word,” thought Malbone, “I never fancied the English +after-dinner practice, any more than did Napoleon. But if this goes on, +it is the gentlemen who ought to withdraw. Cannot somebody lead the way +to the drawing-room, and leave the ladies to finish their cigars?” + +Till now he had hardly dared to look at Emilia. He saw with a thrill of +love that she was the one person in the room who appeared out of place +or ill at ease. She did not glance at him, but held her cigarette in +silence and refused to light it. She had boasted to him once of having +learned to smoke at school. + +“What’s the matter, Emmy?” suddenly exclaimed Blanche. “Are you under a +cloud, that you don’t blow one?” + +“Blanche, Blanche,” said her mother, in sweet reproof. “Mr. Malbone, +what shall I do with this wild girl? Such a light way of talking! But +I can assure you that she is really very fond of the society of +intellectual, superior men. I often tell her that they are, after all, +her most congenial associates. More so than the young and giddy.” + +“You’d better believe it,” said the unabashed damsel. “Take notice that +whenever I go to a dinner-party I look round for a clergyman to drink +wine with.” + +“Incorrigible!” said the caressing mother. “Mr. Malbone would hardly +imagine you had been bred in a Christian land.” + +“I have, though,” retorted Blanche. “My esteemed parent always +accustomed me to give up something during Lent,--champagne, or the New +York Herald, or something.” + +The young men roared, and, had time and cosmetics made it possible, Mrs. +Ingleside would have blushed becomingly. After all, the daughter was +the better of the two. Her bluntness was refreshing beside the mother’s +suavity; she had a certain generosity, too, and in a case of real +destitution would have lent her best ear-rings to a friend. + +By this time Malbone had edged himself to Emilia’s side. “Will you drive +with me?” he murmured in an undertone. + +She nodded slightly, abruptly, and he withdrew again. + +“It seems barbarous,” said he aloud, “to break up the party. But I must +claim my promised drive with Miss Emilia.” + +Blanche looked up, for once amazed, having heard a different programme +arranged. Count Posen looked up also. But he thought he must have +misunderstood Emilia’s acceptance of his previous offer to drive her; +and as he prided himself even more on his English than on his gallantry, +he said no more. It was no great matter. Young Jones’s dog-cart was at +the door, and always opened eagerly its arms to anybody with a title. + + + + +XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT. + +TEN days later Philip came into Aunt Jane’s parlor, looking excited and +gloomy, with a letter in his hand. He put it down on her table without +its envelope,--a thing that always particularly annoyed her. A letter +without its envelope, she was wont to say, was like a man without a +face, or a key without a string,--something incomplete, preposterous. +As usual, however, he strode across her prejudices, and said, “I have +something to tell you. It is a fact.” + +“Is it?” said Aunt Jane, curtly. “That is refreshing in these times.” + +“A good beginning,” said Kate. “Go on. You have prepared us for +something incredible.” + +“You will think it so,” said Malbone. “Emilia is engaged to Mr. John +Lambert.” And he went out of the room. + +“Good Heavens!” said Aunt Jane, taking off her spectacles. “What a man! +He is ugly enough to frighten the neighboring crows. His face looks as +if it had fallen together out of chaos, and the features had come where +it had pleased Fate. There is a look of industrious nothingness about +him, such as busy dogs have. I know the whole family. They used to bake +our bread.” + +“I suppose they are good and sensible,” said Kate. + +“Like boiled potatoes, my dear,” was the response,--“wholesome but +perfectly uninteresting.” + +“Is he of that sort?” asked Kate. + +“No,” said her aunt; “not uninteresting, but ungracious. But I like an +ungracious man better than one like Philip, who hangs over young girls +like a soft-hearted avalanche. This Lambert will govern Emilia, which is +what she needs.” + +“She will never love him,” said Kate, “which is the one thing she needs. +There is nothing that could not be done with Emilia by any person with +whom she was in love; and nothing can ever be done with her by anybody +else. No good will ever come of this, and I hope she will never marry +him.” + +With this unusual burst, Kate retreated to Hope. Hope took the news more +patiently than any one, but with deep solicitude. A worldly marriage +seemed the natural result of the Ingleside influence, but it had not +occurred to anybody that it would come so soon. It had not seemed +Emilia’s peculiar temptation; and yet nobody could suppose that she +looked at John Lambert through any glamour of the affections. + +Mr. John Lambert was a millionnaire, a politician, and a widower. The +late Mrs. Lambert had been a specimen of that cheerful hopelessness of +temperament that one finds abundantly developed among the middle-aged +women of country towns. She enjoyed her daily murders in the newspapers, +and wept profusely at the funerals of strangers. On every occasion, +however felicitous, she offered her condolences in a feeble voice, that +seemed to have been washed a great many times and to have faded. But she +was a good manager, a devoted wife, and was more cheerful at home than +elsewhere, for she had there plenty of trials to exercise her eloquence, +and not enough joy to make it her duty to be doleful. At last her poor, +meek, fatiguing voice faded out altogether, and her husband mourned +her as heartily as she would have bemoaned the demise of the most +insignificant neighbor. After her death, being left childless, he had +nothing to do but to make money, and he naturally made it. Having taken +his primary financial education in New England, he graduated at that +great business university, Chicago, and then entered on the public +practice of wealth in New York. + +Aunt Jane had perhaps done injustice to the personal appearance of Mr. +John Lambert. His features were irregular, but not insignificant, and +there was a certain air of slow command about him, which made some +persons call him handsome. He was heavily built, with a large, +well-shaped head, light whiskers tinged with gray, and a sort of dusty +complexion. His face was full of little curved wrinkles, as if it were +a slate just ruled for sums in long division, and his small blue eyes +winked anxiously a dozen different ways, as if they were doing the sums. +He seemed to bristle with memorandum-books, and kept drawing them from +every pocket, to put something down. He was slow of speech, and his very +heaviness of look added to the impression of reserved power about the +man. + +All his career in life had been a solid progress, and his boldest +speculations seemed securer than the legitimate business of less potent +financiers. Beginning business life by peddling gingerbread on a railway +train, he had developed such a genius for railway management as some +men show for chess or for virtue; and his accumulating property had the +momentum of a planet. + +He had read a good deal at odd times, and had seen a great deal of +men. His private morals were unstained, he was equable and amiable, had +strong good sense, and never got beyond his depth. He had travelled in +Europe and brought home many statistics, some new thoughts, and a few +good pictures selected by his friends. He spent his money liberally for +the things needful to his position, owned a yacht, bred trotting-horses, +and had founded a theological school. He submitted to these and other +social observances from a vague sense of duty as an American citizen; +his real interest lay in business and in politics. Yet he conducted +these two vocations on principles diametrically opposite. In business +he was more honest than the average; in politics he had no conception +of honesty, for he could see no difference between a politician and any +other merchandise. He always succeeded in business, for he thoroughly +understood its principles; in politics he always failed in the end, for +he recognized no principles at all. In business he was active, resolute, +and seldom deceived; in politics he was equally active, but was apt to +be irresolute, and was deceived every day of his life. In both cases +it was not so much from love of power that he labored, as from the +excitement of the game. The larger the scale the better he liked it; a +large railroad operation, a large tract of real estate, a big and noisy +statesman,--these investments he found irresistible. + +On which of his two sets of principles he would manage a wife remained +to be proved. It is the misfortune of what are called self-made men +in America, that, though early accustomed to the society of men of the +world, they often remain utterly unacquainted with women of the world, +until those charming perils are at last sprung upon them in full force, +at New York or Washington. John Lambert at forty was as absolutely +ignorant of the qualities and habits of a cultivated woman as of the +details of her toilet. The plain domesticity of his departed wife he had +understood and prized; he remembered her household ways as he did her +black alpaca dress; indeed, except for that item of apparel, she was not +so unlike himself. In later years he had seen the women of society; +he had heard them talk; he had heard men talk about them, wittily or +wickedly, at the clubs; he had perceived that a good many of them wished +to marry him, and yet, after all, he knew no more of them than of the +rearing of humming-birds or orchids,--dainty, tropical things which he +allowed his gardener to raise, he keeping his hands off, and only paying +the bills. Whether there was in existence a class of women who were both +useful and refined,--any intermediate type between the butterfly and the +drudge,--was a question which he had sometimes asked himself, without +having the materials to construct a reply. + +With imagination thus touched and heart unfilled, this man had been +bewitched from the very first moment by Emilia. He kept it to himself, +and heard in silence the criticisms made at the club-windows. To those +perpetual jokes about marriage, which are showered with such graceful +courtesy about the path of widowers, he had no reply; or at most +would only admit that he needed some elegant woman to preside over his +establishment, and that he had better take her young, as having habits +less fixed. But in his secret soul he treasured every tone of this +girl’s voice, every glance of her eye, and would have kept in a casket +of gold and diamonds the little fragrant glove she once let fall. He +envied the penniless and brainless boys, who, with ready gallantry, +pushed by him to escort her to her carriage; and he lay awake at night +to form into words the answer he ought to have made, when she threw at +him some careless phrase, and gave him the opportunity to blunder. + +And she, meanwhile, unconscious of his passion, went by him in her +beauty, and caught him in the net she never threw. Emilia was always +piquant, because she was indifferent; she had never made an effort +in her life, and she had no respect for persons. She was capable of +marrying for money, perhaps, but the sacrifice must all be completed in +a single vow. She would not tutor nor control herself for the purpose. +Hand and heart must be duly transferred, she supposed, whenever the time +was up; but till then she must be free. + +This with her was not art, but necessity; yet the most accomplished art +could have devised nothing so effectual to hold her lover. His strong +sense had always protected him from the tricks of matchmaking mammas and +their guileless maids. Had Emilia made one effort to please him, once +concealed a dislike, once affected a preference, the spell might +have been broken. Had she been his slave, he might have become a very +unyielding or a very heedless despot. Making him her slave, she kept +him at the very height of bliss. This king of railways and purchaser of +statesmen, this man who made or wrecked the fortunes of others by his +whim, was absolutely governed by a reckless, passionate, inexperienced, +ignorant girl. + +And this passion was made all the stronger by being a good deal confined +to his own breast. Somehow it was very hard for him to talk sentiment +to Emilia; he instinctively saw she disliked it, and indeed he liked her +for not approving the stiff phrases which were all he could command. Nor +could he find any relief of mind in talking with others about her. It +enraged him to be clapped on the back and congratulated by his compeers; +and he stopped their coarse jokes, often rudely enough. As for the young +men at the club, he could not bear to hear them mention his darling’s +name, however courteously. He knew well enough that for them the +betrothal had neither dignity nor purity; that they held it to be as +much a matter of bargain and sale as their worst amours. He would far +rather have talked to the theological professors whose salaries he +paid, for he saw that they had a sort of grave, formal tradition of the +sacredness of marriage. And he had a right to claim that to him it was +sacred, at least as yet; all the ideal side of his nature was suddenly +developed; he walked in a dream; he even read Tennyson. + +Sometimes he talked a little to his future brother-in-law, +Harry,--assuming, as lovers are wont, that brothers see sisters on their +ideal side. This was quite true of Harry and Hope, but not at all true +as regarded Emilia. She seemed to him simply a beautiful and ungoverned +girl whom he could not respect, and whom he therefore found it very hard +to idealize. Therefore he heard with a sort of sadness the outpourings +of generous devotion from John Lambert. + +“I don’t know how it is, Henry,” the merchant would gravely say, “I +can’t get rightly used to it, that I feel so strange. Honestly, now, I +feel as if I was beginning life over again. It ain’t a selfish feeling, +so I know there’s some good in it. I used to be selfish enough, but I +ain’t so to her. You may not think it, but if it would make her happy, I +believe I could lie down and let her carriage roll over me. By -----, +I would build her a palace to live in, and keep the lodge at the gate +myself, just to see her pass by. That is, if she was to live in it alone +by herself. I couldn’t stand sharing her. It must be me or nobody.” + +Probably there was no male acquaintance of the parties, however +hardened, to whom these fine flights would have seemed more utterly +preposterous than to the immediate friend and prospective bridesmaid, +Miss Blanche Ingleside. To that young lady, trained sedulously by a +devoted mother, life was really a serious thing. It meant the full rigor +of the marriage market, tempered only by dancing and new dresses. There +was a stern sense of duty beneath all her robing and disrobing; she +conscientiously did what was expected of her, and took her little +amusements meanwhile. It was supposed that most of the purchasers in the +market preferred slang and bare shoulders, and so she favored them with +plenty of both. It was merely the law of supply and demand. Had John +Lambert once hinted that he would accept her in decent black, she would +have gone to the next ball as a Sister of Charity; but where was the +need of it, when she and her mother both knew that, had she appeared as +the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, she would not have won him? So her only +resource was a cheerful acquiescence in Emilia’s luck, and a judicious +propitiation of the accepted favorite. + +“I wouldn’t mind playing Virtue Rewarded myself, young woman,” said +Blanche, “at such a scale of prices. I would do it even to so slow an +audience as old Lambert. But you see, it isn’t my line. Don’t forget +your humble friends when you come into your property, that’s all.” + Then the tender coterie of innocents entered on some preliminary +consideration of wedding-dresses. + +When Emilia came home, she dismissed the whole matter lightly as a +settled thing, evaded all talk with Aunt Jane, and coolly said to Kate +that she had no objection to Mr. Lambert, and might as well marry him as +anybody else. + +“I am not like you and Hal, you know,” said she. “I have no fancy for +love in a cottage. I never look well in anything that is not costly. I +have not a taste that does not imply a fortune. What is the use of love? +One marries for love, and is unhappy ever after. One marries for money, +and perhaps gets love after all. I dare say Mr. Lambert loves me, though +I do not see why he should.” + +“I fear he does,” said Kate, almost severely. + +“Fear?” said Emilia. + +“Yes,” said Kate. “It is an unequal bargain, where one side does all the +loving.” + +“Don’t be troubled,” said Emilia. “I dare say he will not love me long. +Nobody ever did!” And her eyes filled with tears which she dashed away +angrily, as she ran up to her room. + +It was harder yet for her to talk with Hope, but she did it, and that in +a very serious mood. She had never been so open with her sister. + +“Aunt Jane once told me,” she said, “that my only safety was in marrying +a good man. Now I am engaged to one.” + +“Do you love him, Emilia?” asked Hope, gravely. + +“Not much,” said Emilia, honestly. “But perhaps I shall, by and by.” + +“Emilia,” cried Hope, “there is no such thing as happiness in a marriage +without love.” + +“Mine is not without love,” the girl answered. “He loves me. It +frightens me to see how much he loves me. I can have the devotion of a +lifetime, if I will. Perhaps it is hard to receive it in such a way, but +I can have it. Do you blame me very much?” + +Hope hesitated. “I cannot blame you so much, my child,” she said, “as if +I thought it were money for which you cared. It seems to me that there +must be something beside that, and yet--” + +“O Hope, how I thank you,” interrupted Emilia. “It is not money. You +know I do not care about money, except just to buy my clothes and +things. At least, I do not care about so much as he has,--more than a +million dollars, only think! Perhaps they said two million. Is it wrong +for me to marry him, just because he has that?” + +“Not if you love him.” + +“I do not exactly love him, but O Hope, I cannot tell you about it. I am +not so frivolous as you think. I want to do my duty. I want to make you +happy too: you have been so sweet to me.” + +“Did you think it would make me happy to have you married?” asked Hope, +surprised, and kissing again and again the young, sad face. And the two +girls went upstairs together, brought for the moment into more sisterly +nearness by the very thing that had seemed likely to set them forever +apart. + + + + +XIII. DREAMING DREAMS. + +SO short was the period between Emilia’s betrothal and her marriage, +that Aunt Jane’s sufferings over trousseau and visits did not last long. +Mr. Lambert’s society was the worst thing to bear. + +“He makes such long calls!” she said, despairingly. “He should bring an +almanac with him to know when the days go by.” + +“But Harry and Philip are here all the time,” said Kate, the accustomed +soother. + +“Harry is quiet, and Philip keeps out of the way lately,” she answered. +“But I always thought lovers the most inconvenient thing about a house. +They are more troublesome than the mice, and all those people who live +in the wainscot; for though the lovers make less noise, yet you have to +see them.” + +“A necessary evil, dear,” said Kate, with much philosophy. + +“I am not sure,” said the complainant. “They might be excluded in the +deed of a house, or by the terms of the lease. The next house I take, I +shall say to the owner, ‘Have you a good well of water on the premises? +Are you troubled with rats or lovers?’ That will settle it.” + +It was true, what Aunt Jane said about Malbone. He had changed his +habits a good deal. While the girls were desperately busy about the +dresses, he beguiled Harry to the club, and sat on the piazza, talking +sentiment and sarcasm, regardless of hearers. + +“When we are young,” he would say, “we are all idealists in love. Every +imaginative boy has such a passion, while his intellect is crude and his +senses indifferent. It is the height of bliss. All other pleasures are +not worth its pains. With older men this ecstasy of the imagination is +rare; it is the senses that clutch or reason which holds.” + +“Is that an improvement?” asked some juvenile listener. + +“No!” said Philip, strongly. “Reason is cold and sensuality hateful; a +man of any feeling must feed his imagination; there must be a woman of +whom he can dream.” + +“That is,” put in some more critical auditor, “whom he can love as a +woman loves a man.” + +“For want of the experience of such a passion,” Malbone went on, +unheeding, “nobody comprehends Petrarch. Philosophers and sensualists +all refuse to believe that his dream of Laura went on, even when he had +a mistress and a child. Why not? Every one must have something to which +his dreams can cling, amid the degradations of actual life, and this tie +is more real than the degradation; and if he holds to the tie, it will +one day save him.” + +“What is the need of the degradation?” put in the clear-headed Harry. + +“None, except in weakness,” said Philip. “A stronger nature may escape +it. Good God! do I not know how Petrarch must have felt? What sorrow +life brings! Suppose a man hopelessly separated from one whom he +passionately loves. Then, as he looks up at the starry sky, something +says to him: ‘You can bear all these agonies of privation, loss of +life, loss of love,--what are they? If the tie between you is what you +thought, neither life nor death, neither folly nor sin, can keep her +forever from you.’ Would that one could always feel so! But I am weak. +Then comes impulse, it thirsts for some immediate gratification; I +yield, and plunge into any happiness since I cannot obtain her. Then +comes quiet again, with the stars, and I bitterly reproach myself for +needing anything more than that stainless ideal. And so, I fancy, did +Petrarch.” + +Philip was getting into a dangerous mood with his sentimentalism. No +lawful passion can ever be so bewildering or ecstatic as an unlawful +one. For that which is right has all the powers of the universe on +its side, and can afford to wait; but the wrong, having all those +vast forces against it, must hurry to its fulfilment, reserve nothing, +concentrate all its ecstasies upon to-day. Malbone, greedy of emotion, +was drinking to the dregs a passion that could have no to-morrow. + +Sympathetic persons are apt to assume that every refined emotion must +be ennobling. This is not true of men like Malbone, voluptuaries of the +heart. He ordinarily got up a passion very much as Lord Russell got up +an appetite,--he, of Spence’s Anecdotes, who went out hunting for that +sole purpose, and left the chase when the sensation came. Malbone did +not leave his more spiritual chase so soon,--it made him too happy. +Sometimes, indeed, when he had thus caught his emotion, it caught him +in return, and for a few moments made him almost unhappy. This he liked +best of all; he nursed the delicious pain, knowing that it would die +out soon enough, there was no need of hurrying it to a close. At least, +there had never been need for such solicitude before. + +Except for his genius for keeping his own counsel, every acquaintance of +Malbone’s would have divined the meaning of these reveries. As it +was, he was called whimsical and sentimental, but he was a man of +sufficiently assured position to have whims of his own, and could even +treat himself to an emotion or so, if he saw fit. Besides, he talked +well to anybody on anything, and was admitted to exhibit, for a man of +literary tastes, a good deal of sense. If he had engaged himself to +a handsome schoolmistress, it was his fancy, and he could afford it. +Moreover she was well connected, and had an air. And what more natural +than that he should stand at the club-window and watch, when his young +half-sister (that was to be) drove by with John Lambert? So every +afternoon he saw them pass in a vehicle of lofty description, with two +wretched appendages in dark blue broadcloth, who sat with their backs +turned to their masters, kept their arms folded, and nearly rolled off +at every corner. Hope would have dreaded the close neighborhood of those +Irish ears; she would rather have ridden even in an omnibus, could she +and Philip have taken all the seats. But then Hope seldom cared to drive +on the Avenue at all, except as a means of reaching the ocean, whereas +with most people it appears the appointed means to escape from that +spectacle. And as for the footmen, there was nothing in the conversation +worth their hearing or repeating; and their presence was a relief +to Emilia, for who knew but Mr. Lambert himself might end in growing +sentimental? + +Yet she did not find him always equally tedious. Their drives had some +variety. For instance, he sometimes gave her some lovely present before +they set forth, and she could feel that, if his lips did not yield +diamonds and rubies, his pockets did. Sometimes he conversed about +money and investments, which she rather liked; this was his strong and +commanding point; he explained things quite clearly, and they found, +with mutual surprise, that she also had a shrewd little brain for +those matters, if she would but take the trouble to think about them. +Sometimes he insisted on being tender, and even this was not so bad as +she expected, at least for a few minutes at a time; she rather enjoyed +having her hand pressed so seriously, and his studied phrases amused +her. It was only when he wished the conversation to be brilliant and +intellectual, that he became intolerable; then she must entertain him, +must get up little repartees, must tell him lively anecdotes, which he +swallowed as a dog bolts a morsel, being at once ready for the next. He +never made a comment, of course, but at the height of his enjoyment he +gave a quick, short, stupid laugh, that so jarred upon her ears, she +would have liked to be struck deaf rather than hear it again. + +At these times she thought of Malbone, how gifted he was, how +inexhaustible, how agreeable, with a faculty for happiness that would +have been almost provoking had it not been contagious. Then she looked +from her airy perch and smiled at him at the club-window, where he stood +in the most negligent of attitudes, and with every faculty strained in +observation. A moment and she was gone. + +Then all was gone, and a mob of queens might have blocked the way, +without his caring to discuss their genealogies, even with old General +Le Breton, who had spent his best (or his worst) years abroad, and was +supposed to have been confidential adviser to most of the crowned heads +of Europe. + +For the first time in his life Malbone found himself in the grasp of a +passion too strong to be delightful. For the first time his own heart +frightened him. He had sometimes feared that it was growing harder, but +now he discovered that it was not hard enough. + +He knew it was not merely mercenary motives that had made Emilia accept +John Lambert; but what troubled him was a vague knowledge that it was +not mere pique. He was used to dealing with pique in women, and had +found it the most manageable of weaknesses. It was an element of +spasmodic conscience than he saw here, and it troubled him. + +Something told him that she had said to herself: “I will be married, +and thus do my duty to Hope. Other girls marry persons whom they do not +love, and it helps them to forget. Perhaps it will help me. This is a +good man, they say, and I think he loves me.” + +“Think?” John Lambert had adored her when she had passed by him without +looking at him; and now when the thought came over him that she would be +his wife, he became stupid with bliss. And as latterly he had thought of +little else, he remained more or less stupid all the time. + +To a man like Malbone, self-indulgent rather than selfish, this poor, +blind semblance of a moral purpose in Emilia was a great embarrassment. +It is a terrible thing for a lover when he detects conscience amidst +the armory of weapons used against him, and faces the fact that he +must blunt a woman’s principles to win her heart. Philip was rather +accustomed to evade conscience, but he never liked to look it in the +face and defy it. + +Yet if the thought of Hope at this time came over him, it came as +a constraint, and he disliked it as such; and the more generous and +beautiful she was, the greater the constraint. He cursed himself that +he had allowed himself to be swayed back to her, and so had lost Emilia +forever. And thus he drifted on, not knowing what he wished for, but +knowing extremely well what he feared. + + + + +XIV. THE NEMESIS OF PASSION. + +MALBONE was a person of such ready, emotional nature, and such easy +expression, that it was not hard for Hope to hide from herself the +gradual ebbing of his love. Whenever he was fresh and full of spirits, +he had enough to overflow upon her and every one. But when other +thoughts and cares were weighing on him, he could not share them, nor +could he at such times, out of the narrowing channel of his own life, +furnish more than a few scanty drops for her. + +At these times he watched with torturing fluctuations the signs +of solicitude in Hope, the timid withdrawing of her fingers, the +questioning of her eyes, the weary drooping of her whole expression. +Often he cursed himself as a wretch for paining that pure and noble +heart. Yet there were moments when a vague inexpressible delight stole +in; a glimmering of shame-faced pleasure as he pondered on this visible +dawning of distrust; a sudden taste of freedom in being no longer +fettered by her confidence. By degrees he led himself, still half +ashamed, to the dream that she might yet be somehow weaned from him, and +leave his conscience free. By constantly building upon this thought, and +putting aside all others, he made room upon the waste of his life for a +house of cards, glittering, unsubstantial, lofty,--until there came some +sudden breath that swept it away; and then he began on it again. + +In one of those moments of more familiar faith which still alternated +with these cold, sad intervals, she asked him with some sudden impulse, +how he should feel if she loved another? She said it, as if guided by +an instinct, to sound the depth of his love for her. Starting with +amazement, he looked at her, and then, divining her feeling, he only +replied by an expression of reproach, and by kissing her hands with +an habitual tenderness that had grown easy to him,--and they were +such lovely hands! But his heart told him that no spent swimmer ever +transferred more eagerly to another’s arms some precious burden beneath +which he was consciously sinking, than he would yield her up to any +one whom she would consent to love, and who could be trusted with the +treasure. Until that ecstasy of release should come, he would do his +duty,--yes, his duty. + +When these flushed hopes grew pale, as they soon did, he could at least +play with the wan fancies that took their place. Hour after hour, +while she lavished upon him the sweetness of her devotion, he was half +consciously shaping with his tongue some word of terrible revealing that +should divide them like a spell, if spoken, and then recalling it before +it left his lips. Daily and hourly he felt the last agony of a weak and +passionate nature,--to dream of one woman in another’s arms. + +She, too, watched him with an ever-increasing instinct of danger, +studied with a chilly terror the workings of his face, weighed and +reweighed his words in absence, agonized herself with new and ever +new suspicions; and then, when these had accumulated beyond endurance, +seized them convulsively and threw them all away. Then, coming back to +him with a great overwhelming ardor of affection, she poured upon him +more and more in proportion as he gave her less. + +Sometimes in these moments of renewed affection he half gave words to +his remorse, accused himself before her of unnamed wrong, and besought +her to help him return to his better self. These were the most dangerous +moments of all, for such appeals made tenderness and patience appear +a duty; she must put away her doubts as sins, and hold him to her; she +must refuse to see his signs of faltering faith, or treat them as +mere symptoms of ill health. Should not a wife cling the closer to her +husband in proportion as he seemed alienated through the wanderings of +disease? And was not this her position? So she said within herself, and +meanwhile it was not hard to penetrate her changing thoughts, at least +for so keen an observer as Aunt Jane. Hope, at length, almost ceased to +speak of Malbone, and revealed her grief by this evasion, as the robin +reveals her nest by flitting from it. + +Yet there were times when he really tried to force himself into a +revival of this calmer emotion. He studied Hope’s beauty with his eyes, +he pondered on all her nobleness. He wished to bring his whole heart +back to her--or at least wished that he wished it. But hearts that have +educated themselves into faithlessness must sooner or later share the +suffering they give. Love will be avenged on them. Nothing could +have now recalled this epicure in passion, except, possibly, a little +withholding or semi-coquetry on Hope’s part, and this was utterly +impossible for her. Absolute directness was a part of her nature; she +could die, but not manouvre. + +It actually diminished Hope’s hold on Philip, that she had at this +time the whole field to herself. Emilia had gone for a few weeks to the +mountains, with the household of which she was a guest. An ideal and +unreasonable passion is strongest in absence, when the dream is all pure +dream, and safe from the discrepancies of daily life. When the two girls +were together, Emilia often showed herself so plainly Hope’s inferior, +that it jarred on Philip’s fine perceptions. But in Emilia’s absence the +spell of temperament, or whatever else brought them together, resumed +its sway unchecked; she became one great magnet of attraction, and all +the currents of the universe appeared to flow from the direction where +her eyes were shining. When she was out of sight, he needed to make no +allowance for her defects, to reproach himself with no overt acts of +disloyalty to Hope, to recognize no criticisms of his own intellect or +conscience. He could resign himself to his reveries, and pursue them +into new subtleties day by day. + +There was Mrs. Meredith’s house, too, where they had been so happy. And +now the blinds were pitilessly closed, all but one where the Venetian +slats had slipped, and stood half open as if some dainty fingers held +them, and some lovely eyes looked through. He gazed so long and so often +on that silent house,--by day, when the scorching sunshine searched its +pores as if to purge away every haunting association, or by night, when +the mantle of darkness hung tenderly above it, and seemed to collect the +dear remembrances again,--that his fancy by degrees grew morbid, and +its pictures unreal. “It is impossible,” he one day thought to himself, +“that she should have lived in that room so long, sat in that window, +dreamed on that couch, reflected herself in that mirror, breathed that +air, without somehow detaching invisible fibres of her being, delicate +films of herself, that must gradually, she being gone, draw together +into a separate individuality an image not quite bodiless, that replaces +her in her absence, as the holy Theocrite was replaced by the angel. If +there are ghosts of the dead, why not ghosts of the living also?” This +lover’s fancy so pleased him that he brought to bear upon it the whole +force of his imagination, and it grew stronger day by day. To him, +thenceforth, the house was haunted, and all its floating traces of +herself visible or invisible,--from the ribbon that he saw entangled in +the window-blind to every intangible and fancied atom she had imparted +to the atmosphere,--came at last to organize themselves into one +phantom shape for him and looked out, a wraith of Emilia, through those +relentless blinds. As the vision grew more vivid, he saw the dim figure +moving through the house, wan, restless, tender, lingering where they +had lingered, haunting every nook where they had been happy once. In the +windy moanings of the silent night he could put his ear at the keyhole, +and could fancy that he heard the wild signals of her love and despair. + + + + +XV. ACROSS THE BAY. + +THE children, as has been said, were all devoted to Malbone, and this +was, in a certain degree, to his credit. But it is a mistake to call +children good judges of character, except in one direction, namely, +their own. They understand it, up to the level of their own stature; +they know who loves them, but not who loves virtue. Many a sinner has a +great affection for children, and no child will ever detect the sins of +such a friend; because, toward them, the sins do not exist. + +The children, therefore, all loved Philip, and yet they turned with +delight, when out-door pleasures were in hand, to the strong and adroit +Harry. Philip inclined to the daintier exercises, fencing, billiards, +riding; but Harry’s vigorous physique enjoyed hard work. He taught +all the household to swim, for instance. Jenny, aged five, a sturdy, +deep-chested little thing, seemed as amphibious as himself. She could +already swim alone, but she liked to keep close to him, as all young +animals do to their elders in the water, not seeming to need actual +support, but stronger for the contact. Her favorite position, +however, was on his back, where she triumphantly clung, grasping his +bathing-dress with one hand, swinging herself to and fro, dipping +her head beneath the water, singing and shouting, easily shifting her +position when he wished to vary his, and floating by him like a little +fish, when he was tired of supporting her. It was pretty to see the +child in her one little crimson garment, her face flushed with delight, +her fair hair glistening from the water, and the waves rippling and +dancing round her buoyant form. As Harry swam farther and farther out, +his head was hidden from view by her small person, and she might have +passed for a red seabird rocking on the gentle waves. It was one of the +regular delights of the household to see them bathe. + +Kate came in to Aunt Jane’s room, one August morning, to say that they +were going to the water-side. How differently people may enter a room! +Hope always came in as the summer breeze comes, quiet, strong, soft, +fragrant, resistless. Emilia never seemed to come in at all; you looked +up, and she had somehow drifted where she stood, pleading, evasive, +lovely. This was especially the case where one person was awaiting her +alone; with two she was more fearless, with a dozen she was buoyant, +and with a hundred she forgot herself utterly and was a spirit of +irresistible delight. + +But Kate entered any room, whether nursery or kitchen, as if it were the +private boudoir of a princess and she the favorite maid of honor. Thus +it was she came that morning to Aunt Jane. + +“We are going down to see the bathers, dear,” said Kate. “Shall you miss +me?” + +“I miss you every minute,” said her aunt, decisively. “But I shall do +very well. I have delightful times here by myself. What a ridiculous man +it was who said that it was impossible to imagine a woman’s laughing at +her own comic fancies. I sit and laugh at my own nonsense very often.” + +“It is a shame to waste it,” said Kate. + +“It is a blessing that any of it is disposed of while you are not here,” + said Aunt Jane. “You have quite enough of it.” + +“We never have enough,” said Kate. “And we never can make you repeat any +of yesterday’s.” + +“Of course not,” said Aunt Jane. “Nonsense must have the dew on it, or +it is good for nothing.” + +“So you are really happiest alone?” + +“Not so happy as when you are with me,--you or Hope. I like to have Hope +with me now; she does me good. Really, I do not care for anybody else. +Sometimes I think if I could always have four or five young kittens +by me, in a champagne-basket, with a nurse to watch them, I should be +happier. But perhaps not; they would grow up so fast!” + +“Then I will leave you alone without compunction,” said Kate. + +“I am not alone,” said Aunt Jane; “I have my man in the boat to watch +through the window. What a singular being he is! I think he spends hours +in that boat, and what he does I can’t conceive. There it is, quietly +anchored, and there is he in it. I never saw anybody but myself who +could get up so much industry out of nothing. He has all his housework +there, a broom and a duster, and I dare say he has a cooking-stove and +a gridiron. He sits a little while, then he stoops down, then he goes to +the other end. Sometimes he goes ashore in that absurd little tub, with +a stick that he twirls at one end.” + +“That is called sculling,” interrupted Kate. + +“Sculling! I suppose he runs for a baked potato. Then he goes back. He +is Robinson Crusoe on an island that never keeps still a single instant. +It is all he has, and he never looks away, and never wants anything +more. So I have him to watch. Think of living so near a beaver or a +water-rat with clothes on! Good-by. Leave the door ajar, it is so warm.” + +And Kate went down to the landing. It was near the “baptismal shore,” + where every Sunday the young people used to watch the immersions; they +liked to see the crowd of spectators, the eager friends, the dripping +convert, the serene young minister, the old men and girls who burst +forth in song as the new disciple rose from the waves. It was the +weekly festival in that region, and the sunshine and the ripples made it +gladdening, not gloomy. Every other day in the week the children of the +fishermen waded waist-deep in the water, and played at baptism. + +Near this shore stood the family bathing-house; and the girls came down +to sit in its shadow and watch the swimming. It was late in August, and +on the first of September Emilia was to be married. + +Nothing looked cool, that day, but the bay and those who were going into +it. Out came Hope from the bathing-house, in a new bathing-dress of dark +blue, which was evidently what the others had come forth to behold. + +“Hope, what an imposter you are!” cried Kate instantly. “You declined +all my proffers of aid in cutting that dress, and now see how it fits +you! You never looked so beautifully in your life. There is not such +another bathing-dress in Oldport, nor such a figure to wear it.” + +And she put both her arms round that supple, stately waist, that might +have belonged to a Greek goddess, or to some queen in the Nibelungen +Lied. + +The party watched the swimmers as they struck out over the clear +expanse. It was high noon; the fishing-boats were all off, but a few +pleasure-boats swung different ways at their moorings, in the perfect +calm. The white light-house stood reflected opposite, at the end of its +long pier; a few vessels lay at anchor, with their sails up to dry, but +with that deserted look which coasters in port are wont to wear. A few +fishes dimpled the still surface, and as the three swam out farther and +farther, their merry voices still sounded close at hand. Suddenly +they all clapped their hands and called; then pointed forward to the +light-house, across the narrow harbor. + +“They are going to swim across,” said Kate. “What creatures they are! +Hope and little Jenny have always begged for it, and now Harry thinks it +is so still a day they can safely venture. It is more than half a mile. +See! he has called that boy in a boat, and he will keep near them. They +have swum farther than that along the shore.” + +So the others went away with no fears. + +Hope said afterwards that she never swam with such delight as on that +day. The water seemed to be peculiarly thin and clear, she said, as well +as tranquil, and to retain its usual buoyancy without its density. It +gave a delicious sense of freedom; she seemed to swim in air, and felt +singularly secure. For the first time she felt what she had always +wished to experience,--that swimming was as natural as walking, and +might be indefinitely prolonged. Her strength seemed limitless, she +struck out more and more strongly; she splashed and played with +little Jenny, when the child began to grow weary of the long motion. A +fisherman’s boy in a boat rowed slowly along by their side. + +Nine tenths of the distance had been accomplished, when the little girl +grew quite impatient, and Hope bade Harry swim on before her, and land +his charge. Light and buoyant as the child was, her tightened clasp had +begun to tell on him. + +“It tires you, Hal, to bear that weight so long, and you know I have +nothing to carry. You must see that I am not in the least tired, only a +little dazzled by the sun. Here, Charley, give me your hat, and then +row on with Mr. Harry.” She put on the boy’s torn straw hat, and they +yielded to her wish. People almost always yielded to Hope’s wishes when +she expressed them,--it was so very seldom. + +Somehow the remaining distance seemed very great, as Hope saw them glide +away, leaving her in the water alone, her feet unsupported by any firm +element, the bright and pitiless sky arching far above her, and her head +burning with more heat than she had liked to own. She was conscious of +her full strength, and swam more vigorously than ever; but her head was +hot and her ears rang, and she felt chilly vibrations passing up and +down her sides, that were like, she fancied, the innumerable fringing +oars of the little jelly-fishes she had so often watched. Her body felt +almost unnaturally strong, and she took powerful strokes; but it seemed +as if her heart went out into them and left a vacant cavity within. More +and more her life seemed boiling up into her head; queer fancies came +to her, as, for instance, that she was an inverted thermometer with the +mercury all ascending into a bulb at the top. She shook her head and the +fancy cleared away, and then others came. + +She began to grow seriously anxious, but the distance was diminishing; +Harry was almost at the steps with the child, and the boy had rowed his +skiff round the breakwater out of sight; a young fisherman leaned over +the railing with his back to her, watching the lobster-catchers on the +other side. She was almost in; it was only a slight dizziness, yet she +could not see the light-house. Concentrating all her efforts, she shut +her eyes and swam on, her arms still unaccountably vigorous, though the +rest of her body seemed losing itself in languor. The sound in her ear +had grown to a roar, as of many mill-wheels. It seemed a long distance +that she thus swam with her eyes closed. Then she half opened her eyes, +and the breakwater seemed all in motion, with tier above tier of eager +faces looking down on her. In an instant there was a sharp splash close +beside her, and she felt herself grasped and drawn downwards, with a +whirl of something just above her, and then all consciousness went out +as suddenly as when ether brings at last to a patient, after the roaring +and the tumult in his brain, its blessed foretaste of the deliciousness +of death. + +When Hope came again to consciousness, she found herself approaching her +own pier in a sail-boat, with several very wet gentlemen around her, and +little Jenny nestled close to her, crying as profusely as if her pretty +scarlet bathing-dress were being wrung out through her eyes. Hope asked +no questions, and hardly felt the impulse to inquire what had happened. +The truth was, that in the temporary dizziness produced by her prolonged +swim, she had found herself in the track of a steamboat that was passing +the pier, unobserved by her brother. A young man, leaping from the +dock, had caught her in his arms, and had dived with her below the +paddle-wheels, just as they came upon her. It was a daring act, but +nothing else could have saved her. When they came to the surface, they +had been picked up by Aunt Jane’s Robinson Crusoe, who had at last +unmoored his pilot-boat and was rounding the light-house for the outer +harbor. + +She and the child were soon landed, and given over to the ladies. Due +attention was paid to her young rescuer, whose dripping garments seemed +for the moment as glorious as a blood-stained flag. He seemed a simple, +frank young fellow of French or German origin, but speaking English +remarkably well; he was not high-bred, by any means, but had apparently +the culture of an average German of the middle class. Harry fancied that +he had seen him before, and at last traced back the impression of his +features to the ball for the French officers. It turned out, on inquiry, +that he had a brother in the service, and on board the corvette; but he +himself was a commercial agent, now in America with a view to business, +though he had made several voyages as mate of a vessel, and would not +object to some such berth as that. He promised to return and receive +the thanks of the family, read with interest the name on Harry’s card, +seemed about to ask a question, but forbore, and took his leave amid +the general confusion, without even giving his address. When sought next +day, he was not to be found, and to the children he at once became as +much a creature of romance as the sea-serpent or the Flying Dutchman. + +Even Hope’s strong constitution felt the shock of this adventure. She +was confined to her room for a week or two, but begged that there might +be no postponement of the wedding, which, therefore, took place without +her. Her illness gave excuse for a privacy that was welcome to all but +the bridesmaids, and suited Malbone best of all. + + + + +XVI. ON THE STAIRS. + +AUGUST drew toward its close, and guests departed from the neighborhood. + +“What a short little thing summer is,” meditated Aunt Jane, “and +butterflies are caterpillars most of the time after all. How quiet it +seems. The wrens whisper in their box above the window, and there has +not been a blast from the peacock for a week. He seems ashamed of the +summer shortness of his tail. He keeps glancing at it over his shoulder +to see if it is not looking better than yesterday, while the staring +eyes of the old tail are in the bushes all about.” + +“Poor, dear little thing!” said coaxing Katie. “Is she tired of autumn, +before it is begun?” + +“I am never tired of anything,” said Aunt Jane, “except my maid Ruth, +and I should not be tired of her, if it had pleased Heaven to endow her +with sufficient strength of mind to sew on a button. Life is very rich +to me. There is always something new in every season; though to be sure +I cannot think what novelty there is just now, except a choice variety +of spiders. There is a theory that spiders kill flies. But I never +miss a fly, and there does not seem to be any natural scourge divinely +appointed to kill spiders, except Ruth. Even she does it so feebly, that +I see them come back and hang on their webs and make faces at her. I +suppose they are faces; I do not understand their anatomy, but it must +be a very unpleasant one.” + +“You are not quite satisfied with life, today, dear,” said Kate; “I fear +your book did not end to your satisfaction.” + +“It did end, though,” said the lady, “and that is something. What is +there in life so difficult as to stop a book? If I wrote one, it would +be as long as ten ‘Sir Charles Grandisons,’ and then I never should end +it, because I should die. And there would be nobody left to read it, +because each reader would have been dead long before.” + +“But the book amused you!” interrupted Kate. “I know it did.” + +“It was so absurd that I laughed till I cried; and it makes no +difference whether you cry laughing or cry crying; it is equally bad +when your glasses come off. Never mind. Whom did you see on the Avenue?” + +“O, we saw Philip on horseback. He rides so beautifully; he seems one +with his horse.” + +“I am glad of it,” interposed his aunt. “The riders are generally so +inferior to them.” + +“We saw Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, too. Emilia stopped and asked after you, +and sent you her love, auntie.” + +“Love!” cried Aunt Jane. “She always does that. She has sent me love +enough to rear a whole family on,--more than I ever felt for anybody in +all my days. But she does not really love any one.” + +“I hope she will love her husband,” said Kate, rather seriously. + +“Mark my words, Kate!” said her aunt. “Nothing but unhappiness will ever +come of that marriage. How can two people be happy who have absolutely +nothing in common?” + +“But no two people have just the same tastes,” said Kate, “except Harry +and myself. It is not expected. It would be absurd for two people to be +divorced, because the one preferred white bread and the other brown.” + +“They would be divorced very soon,” said Aunt Jane, “for the one who ate +brown bread would not live long.” + +“But it is possible that he might live, auntie, in spite of your +prediction. And perhaps people may be happy, even if you and I do not +see how.” + +“Nobody ever thinks I see anything,” said Aunt Jane, in some dejection. +“You think I am nothing in the world but a sort of old oyster, making +amusement for people, and having no more to do with real life than +oysters have.” + +“No, dearest!” cried Kate. “You have a great deal to do with all our +lives. You are a dear old insidious sapper-and-miner, looking at first +very inoffensive, and then working your way into our affections, and +spoiling us with coaxing. How you behave about children, for instance!” + +“How?” said the other meekly. “As well as I can.” + +“But you pretend that you dislike them.” + +“But I do dislike them. How can anybody help it? Hear them swearing at +this moment, boys of five, paddling in the water there! Talk about the +murder of the innocents! There are so few innocents to be murdered! If I +only had a gun and could shoot!” + +“You may not like those particular boys,” said Kate, “but you like good, +well-behaved children, very much.” + +“It takes so many to take care of them! People drive by here, with +carriages so large that two of the largest horses can hardly draw them, +and all full of those little beings. They have a sort of roof, too, and +seem to expect to be out in all weathers.” + +“If you had a family of children, perhaps you would find such a +travelling caravan very convenient,” said Kate. + +“If I had such a family,” said her aunt, “I would have a separate +governess and guardian for each, very moral persons. They should come +when each child was two, and stay till it was twenty. The children +should all live apart, in order not to quarrel, and should meet once +or twice a day and bow to each other. I think that each should learn a +different language, so as not to converse, and then, perhaps, they would +not get each other into mischief.” + +“I am sure, auntie,” said Kate, “you have missed our small nephews and +nieces ever since their visit ended. How still the house has been!” + +“I do not know,” was the answer. “I hear a great many noises about the +house. Somebody comes in late at night. Perhaps it is Philip; but he +comes very softly in, wipes his feet very gently, like a clean thief, +and goes up stairs.” + +“O auntie!” said Kate, “you know you have got over all such fancies.” + +“They are not fancies,” said Aunt Jane. “Things do happen in houses! Did +I not look under the bed for a thief during fifteen years, and find one +at last? Why should I not be allowed to hear something now?” + +“But, dear Aunt Jane,” said Kate, “you never told me this before.” + +“No,” said she. “I was beginning to tell you the other day, but Ruth was +just bringing in my handkerchiefs, and she had used so much bluing, +they looked as if they had been washed in heaven, so that it was too +outrageous, and I forgot everything else.” + +“But do you really hear anything?” + +“Yes,” said her aunt. “Ruth declares she hears noises in those closets +that I had nailed up, you know; but that is nothing; of course she does. +Rats. What I hear at night is the creaking of stairs, when I know that +nobody ought to be stirring. If you observe, you will hear it too. At +least, I should think you would, only that somehow everything always +seems to stop, when it is necessary to prove that I am foolish.” + +The girls had no especial engagement that evening, and so got into a +great excitement on the stairway over Aunt Jane’s solicitudes. They +convinced themselves that they heard all sorts of things,--footfalls on +successive steps, the creak of a plank, the brushing of an arm against a +wall, the jar of some suspended object that was stirred in passing. Once +they heard something fall on the floor, and roll from step to step; and +yet they themselves stood on the stairway, and nothing passed. Then +for some time there was silence, but they would have persisted in their +observations, had not Philip come in from Mrs. Meredith’s in the midst +of it, so that the whole thing turned into a frolic, and they sat on the +stairs and told ghost stories half the night. + + + + +XVII. DISCOVERY. + +THE next evening Kate and Philip went to a ball. As Hope was passing +through the hall late in the evening, she heard a sudden, sharp cry +somewhere in the upper regions, that sounded, she thought, like a +woman’s voice. She stopped to hear, but there was silence. It seemed to +come from the direction of Malbone’s room, which was in the third story. +Again came the cry, more gently, ending in a sort of sobbing monologue. +Gliding rapidly up stairs in the dark, she paused at Philip’s deserted +room, but the door was locked, and there was profound stillness. She +then descended, and pausing at the great landing, heard other steps +descending also. Retreating to the end of the hall, she hastily lighted +a candle, when the steps ceased. With her accustomed nerve, wishing to +explore the thing thoroughly, she put out the light and kept still. +As she expected, the footsteps presently recommenced, descending +stealthily, but drawing no nearer, and seeming rather like sounds from +an adjoining house, heard through a party-wall. This was impossible, as +the house stood alone. Flushed with excitement, she relighted the hall +candles, and, taking one of them, searched the whole entry and stairway, +going down even to the large, old-fashioned cellar. + +Looking about her in this unfamiliar region, her eye fell on a door +that seemed to open into the wall; she had noticed a similar door on the +story above,--one of the closet doors that had been nailed up by Aunt +Jane’s order. As she looked, however, a chill breath blew in from +another direction, extinguishing her lamp. This air came from the outer +door of the cellar, and she had just time to withdraw into a corner +before a man’s steps approached, passing close by her. + +Even Hope’s strong nerves had begun to yield, and a cold shudder went +through her. Not daring to move, she pressed herself against the wall, +and her heart seemed to stop as the unseen stranger passed. Instead of +his ascending where she had come down, as she had expected, she heard +him grope his way toward the door she had seen in the wall. + +There he seemed to find a stairway, and when his steps were thus turned +from her, she was seized by a sudden impulse and followed him, groping +her way as she could. She remembered that the girls had talked of secret +stairways in that house, though she had no conception whither they could +lead, unless to some of the shut-up closets. + +She steadily followed, treading cautiously upon each creaking step. The +stairway was very narrow, and formed a regular spiral as in a turret. +The darkness and the curving motion confused her brain, and it was +impossible to tell how high in the house she was, except when once she +put her hand upon what was evidently a door, and moreover saw through +its cracks the lamp she had left burning in the upper hall. This glimpse +of reality reassured her. She had begun to discover where she was. The +doors which Aunt Jane had closed gave access, not to mere closets, but +to a spiral stairway, which evidently went from top to bottom of the +house, and was known to some one else beside herself. + +Relieved of that slight shudder at the supernatural which sometimes +affects the healthiest nerves, Hope paused to consider. To alarm the +neighborhood was her first thought. A slight murmuring from above +dispelled it; she must first reconnoitre a few steps farther. As +she ascended a little way, a gleam shone upon her, and down the damp +stairway came a fragrant odor, as from some perfumed chamber. Then a +door was shut and reopened. Eager beyond expression, she followed on. +Another step, and she stood at the door of Malbone’s apartment. + +The room was brilliant with light; the doors and windows were heavily +draped. Fruit and flowers and wine were on the table. On the sofa lay +Emilia in a gay ball-dress, sunk in one of her motionless trances, while +Malbone, pale with terror, was deluging her brows with the water he had +just brought from the well below. + +Hope stopped a moment and leaned against the door, as her eyes met +Malbone’s. Then she made her way to a chair, and leaning on the back +of it, which she fingered convulsively, looked with bewildered eyes and +compressed lips from the one to the other. Malbone tried to speak, but +failed; tried again, and brought forth only a whisper that broke into +clearer speech as the words went on. “No use to explain,” he said. +“Lambert is in New York. Mrs. Meredith is expecting her--to-night after +the ball. What can we do?” + +Hope covered her face as he spoke; she could bear anything better than +to have him say “we,” as if no gulf had opened between them. She sank +slowly on her knees behind her chair, keeping it as a sort of screen +between herself and these two people,--the counterfeits, they seemed, +of her lover and her sister. If the roof in falling to crush them had +crushed her also, she could scarcely have seemed more rigid or more +powerless. It passed, and the next moment she was on her feet again, +capable of action. + +“She must be taken,” she said very clearly, but in a lower tone than +usual, “to my chamber.” Then pointing to the candles, she said, more +huskily, “We must not be seen. Put them out.” Every syllable seemed to +exhaust her. But as Philip obeyed her words, he saw her move suddenly +and stand by Emilia’s side. + +She put out both arms as if to lift the young girl, and carry her away. + +“You cannot,” said Philip, putting her gently aside, while she shrank +from his touch. Then he took Emilia in his arms and bore her to the +door, Hope preceding. + +Motioning him to pause a moment, she turned the lock softly, and looked +out into the dark entry. All was still. She went out, and he followed +with his motionless burden. They walked stealthily, like guilty things, +yet every slight motion seemed to ring in their ears. It was chilly, and +Hope shivered. Through the great open window on the stairway a white fog +peered in at them, and the distant fog-whistle came faintly through; it +seemed as if the very atmosphere were condensing about them, to isolate +the house in which such deeds were done. The clock struck twelve, and it +seemed as if it struck a thousand. + +When they reached Hope’s door, she turned and put out her arms for +Emilia, as for a child. Every expression had now gone from Hope’s face +but a sort of stony calmness, which put her infinitely farther from +Malbone than had the momentary struggle. As he gave the girlish form +into arms that shook and trembled beneath its weight, he caught a +glimpse in the pier-glass of their two white faces, and then, looking +down, saw the rose-tints yet lingering on Emilia’s cheek. She, the +source of all this woe, looked the only representative of innocence +between two guilty things. + +How white and pure and maidenly looked Hope’s little room,--such a home +of peace, he thought, till its door suddenly opened to admit all this +passion and despair! There was a great sheaf of cardinal flowers on the +table, and their petals were drooping, as if reluctant to look on him. +Scheffer’s Christus Consolator was upon the walls, and the benign figure +seemed to spread wider its arms of mercy, to take in a few sad hearts +more. + +Hope bore Emilia into the light and purity and warmth, while Malbone was +shut out into the darkness and the chill. The only two things to which +he clung on earth, the two women between whom his unsteady heart had +vibrated, and both whose lives had been tortured by its vacillation, +went away from his sight together, the one victim bearing the other +victim in her arms. Never any more while he lived would either of them +be his again; and had Dante known it for his last glimpse of things +immortal when the two lovers floated away from him in their sad embrace, +he would have had no such sense of utter banishment as had Malbone then. + + + + +XVIII. HOPE’S VIGIL. + +HAD Emilia chosen out of life’s whole armory of weapons the means of +disarming Hope, she could have found nothing so effectual as nature +had supplied in her unconsciousness. Helplessness conquers. There was a +quality in Emilia which would have always produced something very like +antagonism in Hope, had she not been her sister. Had the ungoverned girl +now been able to utter one word of reproach, had her eyes flashed one +look of defiance, had her hand made one triumphant or angry gesture, +perhaps all Hope’s outraged womanhood would have coldly nerved itself +against her. But it was another thing to see those soft eyes closed, +those delicate hands powerless, those pleading lips sealed; to see her +extended in graceful helplessness, while all the concentrated drama of +emotion revolved around her unheeded, as around Cordelia dead. In what +realms was that child’s mind seeking comfort; through what thin air of +dreams did that restless heart beat its pinions; in what other sphere +did that untamed nature wander, while shame and sorrow waited for its +awakening in this? + +Hope knelt upon the floor, still too much strained and bewildered for +tears or even prayer, a little way from Emilia. Once having laid down +the unconscious form, it seemed for a moment as if she could no more +touch it than she could lay her hand amid flames. A gap of miles, of +centuries, of solar systems, seemed to separate these two young girls, +alone within the same chamber, with the same stern secret to keep, and +so near that the hem of their garments almost touched each other on the +soft carpet. Hope felt a terrible hardness closing over her heart. +What right had this cruel creature, with her fatal witcheries, to come +between two persons who might have been so wholly happy? What sorrow +would be saved, what shame, perhaps, be averted, should those sweet +beguiling eyes never open, and that perfidious voice never deceive any +more? Why tend the life of one who would leave the whole world happier, +purer, freer, if she were dead? + +In a tumult of thought, Hope went and sat half-unconsciously by the +window. There was nothing to be seen except the steady beacon of the +light-house and a pale-green glimmer, like an earthly star, from an +anchored vessel. The night wind came softly in, soothing her with a +touch like a mother’s, in its grateful coolness. The air seemed full +of half-vibrations, sub-noises, that crowded it as completely as do the +insect sounds of midsummer; yet she could only distinguish the ripple +beneath her feet, and the rote on the distant beach, and the busy wash +of waters against every shore and islet of the bay. The mist was thick +around her, but she knew that above it hung the sleepless stars, and the +fancy came over her that perhaps the whole vast interval, from ocean +up to sky, might be densely filled with the disembodied souls of her +departed human kindred, waiting to see how she would endure that path +of grief in which their steps had gone before. “It may be from this +influence,” she vaguely mused within herself, “that the ocean derives +its endless song of sorrow. Perhaps we shall know the meaning when we +understand that of the stars, and of our own sad lives.” + +She rose again and went to the bedside. It all seemed like a dream, and +she was able to look at Emilia’s existence and at her own and at all +else, as if it were a great way off; as we watch the stars and know that +no speculations of ours can reach those who there live or die untouched. +Here beside her lay one who was dead, yet living, in her temporary +trance, and to what would she wake, when it should end? This young +creature had been sent into the world so fresh, so beautiful, so richly +gifted; everything about her physical organization was so delicate and +lovely; she had seemed like heliotrope, like a tube-rose in her +purity and her passion (who was it said, “No heart is pure that is not +passionate”?); and here was the end! Nothing external could have placed +her where she was, no violence, no outrage, no evil of another’s doing, +could have reached her real life without her own consent; and now what +kind of existence, what career, what possibility of happiness remained? +Why could not God in his mercy take her, and give her to his holiest +angels for schooling, ere it was yet too late? + +Hope went and sat by the window once more. Her thoughts still clung +heavily around one thought, as the white fog clung round the house. +Where should she see any light? What opening for extrication, unless, +indeed, Emilia should die? There could be no harm in that thought, +for she knew it was not to be, and that the swoon would not last much +longer. Who could devise anything? No one. There was nothing. Almost +always in perplexities there is some thread by resolutely holding to +which one escapes at last. Here there was none. There could probably +be no concealment, certainly no explanation. In a few days John Lambert +would return, and then the storm must break. He was probably a stern, +jealous man, whose very dulness, once aroused, would be more formidable +than if he had possessed keener perceptions. + +Still her thoughts did not dwell on Philip. He was simply a part of that +dull mass of pain that beset her and made her feel, as she had felt +when drowning, that her heart had left her breast and nothing but will +remained. She felt now, as then, the capacity to act with more than her +accustomed resolution, though all that was within her seemed boiling up +into her brain. As for Philip, all seemed a mere negation; there was a +vacuum where his place had been. At most the thought of him came to her +as some strange, vague thrill of added torture, penetrating her soul +and then passing; just as ever and anon there came the sound of the +fog-whistle on Brenton’s Reef, miles away, piercing the dull air with +its shrill and desolate wail, then dying into silence. + +What a hopeless cloud lay upon them all forever,--upon Kate, upon Harry, +upon their whole house! Then there was John Lambert; how could they keep +it from him? how could they tell him? Who could predict what he would +say? Would he take the worst and coarsest view of his young wife’s mad +action or the mildest? Would he be strong or weak; and what would be +weakness, and what strength, in a position so strange? Would he put +Emilia from him, send her out in the world desolate, her soul stained +but by one wrong passion, yet with her reputation blighted as if there +were no good in her? Could he be asked to shield and protect her, or +what would become of her? She was legally a wife, and could only be +separated from him through convicted shame. + +Then, if separated, she could only marry Philip. Hope nerved herself to +think of that, and it cost less effort than she expected. + +There seemed a numbness on that side, instead of pain. But granting that +he loved Emilia ever so deeply, was he a man to surrender his life and +his ease and his fair name, in a hopeless effort to remove the ban that +the world would place on her. Hope knew he would not; knew that even the +simple-hearted and straightforward Harry would be far more capable of +such heroism than the sentimental Malbone. Here the pang suddenly struck +her; she was not so numb, after all! + +As the leaves beside the window drooped motionless in the dank air, so +her mind drooped into a settled depression. She pitied herself,--that +lowest ebb of melancholy self-consciousness. She went back to Emilia, +and, seating herself, studied every line of the girl’s face, the soft +texture of her hair, the veining of her eyelids. They were so lovely, +she felt a sort of physical impulse to kiss them, as if they belonged +to some utter stranger, whom she might be nursing in a hospital. Emilia +looked as innocent as when Hope had tended her in the cradle. What is +there, Hope thought, in sleep, in trance, and in death, that removes all +harsh or disturbing impressions, and leaves only the most delicate and +purest traits? Does the mind wander, and does an angel keep its place? +Or is there really no sin but in thought, and are our sleeping thoughts +incapable of sin? Perhaps even when we dream of doing wrong, the dream +comes in a shape so lovely and misleading that we never recognize it for +evil, and it makes no stain. Are our lives ever so pure as our dreams? + +This thought somehow smote across her conscience, always so strong, and +stirred it into a kind of spasm of introspection. “How selfish have I, +too, been!” she thought. “I saw only what I wished to see, did only what +I preferred. Loving Philip” (for the sudden self-reproach left her free +to think of him), “I could not see that I was separating him from one +whom he might perhaps have truly loved. If he made me blind, may he +not easily have bewildered her, and have been himself bewildered? How I +tried to force myself upon him, too! Ungenerous, unwomanly! What am I, +that I should judge another?” + +She threw herself on her knees at the bedside. + +Still Emilia slept, but now she stirred her head in the slightest +possible way, so that a single tress of silken hair slipped from its +companions, and lay across her face. It was a faint sign that the trance +was waning; the slight pressure disturbed her nerves, and her lips +trembled once or twice, as if to relieve themselves of the soft +annoyance. Hope watched her in a vague, distant way, took note of the +minutest motion, yet as if some vast weight hung upon her own limbs +and made all interference impossible. Still there was a fascination of +sympathy in dwelling on that atom of discomfort, that tiny suffering, +which she alone could remove. The very vastness of this tragedy that +hung about the house made it an inexpressible relief to her to turn and +concentrate her thoughts for a moment on this slight distress, so easily +ended. + +Strange, by what slender threads our lives are knitted to each other! +Here was one who had taken Hope’s whole existence in her hands, crushed +it, and thrown it away. Hope had soberly said to herself, just before, +that death would be better than life for her young sister. Yet now it +moved her beyond endurance to see that fair form troubled, even while +unconscious, by a feather’s weight of pain; and all the lifelong habit +of tenderness resumed in a moment its sway. + +She approached her fingers to the offending tress, very slowly, half +withholding them at the very last, as if the touch would burn her. She +was almost surprised that it did not. She looked to see if it did not +hurt Emilia. But it now seemed as if the slumbering girl enjoyed the +caressing contact of the smooth fingers, and turned her head, almost +imperceptibly, to meet them. This was more than Hope could bear. It was +as if that slight motion were a puncture to relieve her overburdened +heart; a thousand thoughts swept over her,--of their father, of her +sister’s childhood, of her years of absent expectation; she thought how +young the girl was, how fascinating, how passionate, how tempted; all +this swept across her in a great wave of nervous reaction, and when +Emilia returned to consciousness, she was lying in her sister’s arms, +her face bathed in Hope’s tears. + + + + +XIX. DE PROFUNDIS. + +THIS was the history of Emilia’s concealed visits to Malbone. + +One week after her marriage, in a crisis of agony, Emilia took up her +pen, dipped it in fire, and wrote thus to him:-- + +“Philip Malbone, why did nobody ever tell me what marriage is where +there is no love? This man who calls himself my husband is no worse, +I suppose, than other men. It is only for being what is called by that +name that I abhor him. Good God! what am I to do? It was not for money +that I married him,--that you know very well; I cared no more for his +money than for himself. I thought it was the only way to save Hope. She +has been very good to me, and perhaps I should love her, if I could love +anybody. Now I have done what will only make more misery, for I cannot +bear it. Philip, I am alone in this wide world, except for you. Tell me +what to do. I will haunt you till you die, unless you tell me. Answer +this, or I will write again.” + +Terrified by this letter, absolutely powerless to guide the life with +which he had so desperately entangled himself, Philip let one day pass +without answering, and that evening he found Emilia at his door, she +having glided unnoticed up the main stairway. She was so excited, it was +equally dangerous to send her away or to admit her, and he drew her in, +darkening the windows and locking the door. On the whole, it was not so +bad as he expected; at least, there was less violence and more despair. +She covered her face with her hands, and writhed in anguish, when she +said that she had utterly degraded herself by this loveless marriage. +She scarcely mentioned her husband. She made no complaint of him, and +even spoke of him as generous. It seemed as if this made it worse, and +as if she would be happier if she could expend herself in hating him. +She spoke of him rather as a mere witness to some shame for which she +herself was responsible; bearing him no malice, but tortured by the +thought that he should exist. + +Then she turned on Malbone. “Philip, why did you ever interfere with my +life? I should have been very happy with Antoine if you had let me marry +him, for I never should have known what it was to love you. Oh! I wish +he were here now, even he,--any one who loved me truly, and whom I could +love only a little. I would go away with such a person anywhere, and +never trouble you and Hope any more. What shall I do? Philip, you might +tell me what to do. Once you told me always to come to you.” + +“What can you do?” he asked gloomily, in return. + +“I cannot imagine,” she said, with a desolate look, more pitiable than +passion, on her young face. “I wish to save Hope, and to save my--to +save Mr. Lambert. Philip, you do not love me. I do not call it love. +There is no passion in your veins; it is only a sort of sympathetic +selfishness. Hope is infinitely better than you are, and I believe she +is more capable of loving. I began by hating her, but if she loves you +as I think she does, she has treated me more generously than ever one +woman treated another. For she could not look at me and not know that I +loved you. I did love you. O Philip, tell me what to do!” + +Such beauty in anguish, the thrill of the possession of such love, the +possibility of soothing by tenderness the wild mood which he could not +meet by counsel,--it would have taken a stronger or less sympathetic +nature than Malbone’s to endure all this. It swept him away; this +revival of passion was irresistible. When her pent-up feeling was +once uttered, she turned to his love as a fancied salvation. It was a +terrible remedy. She had never looked more beautiful, and yet she seemed +to have grown old at once; her very caresses appeared to burn. She +lingered and lingered, and still he kept her there; and when it was no +longer possible for her to go without disturbing the house, he led her +to a secret spiral stairway, which went from attic to cellar of that +stately old mansion, and which opened by one or more doors on each +landing, as his keen eye had found out. Descending this, he went forth +with her into the dark and silent night. The mist hung around the house; +the wet leaves fluttered and fell upon their cheeks; the water lapped +desolately against the pier. Philip found a carriage and sent her back +to Mrs. Meredith’s, where she was staying during the brief absence of +John Lambert. + +These concealed meetings, once begun, became an absorbing excitement. +She came several times, staying half an hour, an hour, two hours. They +were together long enough for suffering, never long enough for soothing. +It was a poor substitute for happiness. Each time she came, Malbone +wished that she might never go or never return. His warier nature was +feverish with solicitude and with self-reproach; he liked the excitement +of slight risks, but this was far too intense, the vibrations too +extreme. She, on the other hand, rode triumphant over waves of passion +which cowed him. He dared not exclude her; he dared not continue to +admit her; he dared not free himself; he could not be happy. The privacy +of the concealed stairway saved them from outward dangers, but not from +inward fears. Their interviews were first blissful, then anxious, then +sad, then stormy. It was at the end of such a storm that Emilia had +passed into one of those deathly calms which belonged to her physical +temperament; and it was under these circumstances that Hope had followed +Philip to the door. + + + + +XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE. + +THE thing that saves us from insanity during great grief is that +there is usually something to do, and the mind composes itself to the +mechanical task of adjusting the details. Hope dared not look forward +an inch into the future; that way madness lay. Fortunately, it was plain +what must come first,--to keep the whole thing within their own walls, +and therefore to make some explanation to Mrs. Meredith, whose servants +had doubtless been kept up all night awaiting Emilia. Profoundly +perplexed what to say or not to say to her, Hope longed with her whole +soul for an adviser. Harry and Kate were both away, and besides, she +shrank from darkening their young lives as hers had been darkened. +She resolved to seek counsel in the one person who most thoroughly +distrusted Emilia,--Aunt Jane. + +This lady was in a particularly happy mood that day. Emilia, who did +all kinds of fine needle-work exquisitely, had just embroidered for Aunt +Jane some pillow-cases. The original suggestion came from Hope, but it +never cost Emilia anything to keep a secret, and she had presented the +gift very sweetly, as if it were a thought of her own. Aunt Jane, who +with all her penetration as to facts was often very guileless as to +motives, was thoroughly touched by the humility and the embroidery. + +“All last night,” she said, “I kept waking up, and thinking about +Christian charity and my pillow-cases.” + +It was, therefore, a very favorable day for Hope’s consultation, though +it was nearly noon before her aunt was visible, perhaps because it took +so long to make up her bed with the new adornments. + +Hope said frankly to Aunt Jane that there were some circumstances about +which she should rather not be questioned, but that Emilia had come +there the previous night from the ball, had been seized with one of +her peculiar attacks, and had stayed all night. Aunt Jane kept her eyes +steadily fixed on Hope’s sad face, and, when the tale was ended, drew +her down and kissed her lips. + +“Now tell me, dear,” she said; “what comes first?” + +“The first thing is,” said Hope, “to have Emilia’s absence explained to +Mrs. Meredith in some such way that she will think no more of it, and +not talk about it.” + +“Certainly,” said Aunt Jane. “There is but one way to do that. I will +call on her myself.” + +“You, auntie?” said Hope. + +“Yes, I,” said her aunt. “I have owed her a call for five years. It is +the only thing that will excite her so much as to put all else out of +her head.” + +“O auntie!” said Hope, greatly relieved, “if you only would! But ought +you really to go out? It is almost raining.” + +“I shall go,” said Aunt Jane, decisively, “if it rains little boys!” + +“But will not Mrs. Meredith wonder--?” began Hope. + +“That is one advantage,” interrupted her aunt, “of being an absurd old +woman. Nobody ever wonders at anything I do, or else it is that they +never stop wondering.” + +She sent Ruth erelong to order the horses. Hope collected her various +wrappers, and Ruth, returning, got her mistress into a state of +preparation. + +“If I might say one thing more,” Hope whispered. + +“Certainly,” said her aunt. “Ruth, go to my chamber, and get me a pin.” + +“What kind of a pin, ma’am?” asked that meek handmaiden, from the +doorway. + +“What a question!” said her indignant mistress. “Any kind. The common +pin of North America. Now, Hope?” as the door closed. + +“I think it better, auntie,” said Hope, “that Philip should not stay +here longer at present. You can truly say that the house is full, and--” + +“I have just had a note from him,” said Aunt Jane severely. “He has gone +to lodge at the hotel. What next?” + +“Aunt Jane,” said Hope, looking her full in the face, “I have not the +slightest idea what to do next.” + +(“The next thing for me,” thought her aunt, “is to have a little plain +speech with that misguided child upstairs.”) + +“I can see no way out,” pursued Hope. + +“Darling!” said Aunt Jane, with a voice full of womanly sweetness, +“there is always a way out, or else the world would have stopped long +ago. Perhaps it would have been better if it had stopped, but you see it +has not. All we can do is, to live on and try our best.” + +She bade Hope leave Emilia to her, and furthermore stipulated that Hope +should go to her pupils as usual, that afternoon, as it was their last +lesson. The young girl shrank from the effort, but the elder lady was +inflexible. She had her own purpose in it. Hope once out of the way, +Aunt Jane could deal with Emilia. + +No human being, when met face to face with Aunt Jane, had ever failed +to yield up to her the whole truth she sought. Emilia was on that day no +exception. She was prostrate, languid, humble, denied nothing, was ready +to concede every point but one. Never, while she lived, would she dwell +beneath John Lambert’s roof again. She had left it impulsively, she +admitted, scarce knowing what she did. But she would never return there +to live. She would go once more and see that all was in order for Mr. +Lambert, both in the house and on board the yacht, where they were to +have taken up their abode for a time. There were new servants in the +house, a new captain on the yacht; she would trust Mr. Lambert’s comfort +to none of them; she would do her full duty. Duty! the more utterly she +felt herself to be gliding away from him forever, the more pains she was +ready to lavish in doing these nothings well. About every insignificant +article he owned she seemed to feel the most scrupulous and wife-like +responsibility; while she yet knew that all she had was to him nothing, +compared with the possession of herself; and it was the thought of this +last ownership that drove her to despair. + +Sweet and plaintive as the child’s face was, it had a glimmer of +wildness and a hunted look, that baffled Aunt Jane a little, and +compelled her to temporize. She consented that Emilia should go to +her own house, on condition that she would not see Philip,--which was +readily and even eagerly promised,--and that Hope should spend the night +with Emilia, which proposal was ardently accepted. + +It occurred to Aunt Jane that nothing better could happen than for John +Lambert, on returning, to find his wife at home; and to secure this +result, if possible, she telegraphed to him to come at once. + +Meantime Hope gave her inevitable music-lesson, so absorbed in her own +thoughts that it was all as mechanical as the metronome. As she came +out upon the Avenue for the walk home, she saw a group of people from +a gardener’s house, who had collected beside a muddy crossing, where a +team of cart-horses had refused to stir. Presently they sprang forward +with a great jerk, and a little Irish child was thrown beneath the +wheel. Hope sprang forward to grasp the child, and the wheel struck +her also; but she escaped with a dress torn and smeared, while the +cart passed over the little girl’s arm, breaking it in two places. She +screamed and then grew faint, as Hope lifted her. The mother received +the burden with a wail of anguish; the other Irishwomen pressed around +her with the dense and suffocating sympathy of their nation. Hope bade +one and another run for a physician, but nobody stirred. There was no +surgical aid within a mile or more. Hope looked round in despair, then +glanced at her own disordered garments. + +“As sure as you live!” shouted a well-known voice from a carriage which +had stopped behind them. “If that isn’t Hope what’s-her-name, wish I may +never! Here’s a lark! Let me come there!” And the speaker pushed through +the crowd. + +“Miss Ingleside,” said Hope, decisively, “this child’s arm is broken. +There is nobody to go for a physician. Except for the condition I am +in, I would ask you to take me there at once in your carriage; but as it +is--” + +“As it is, I must ask you, hey?” said Blanche, finishing the sentence. +“Of course. No mistake. Sans dire. Jones, junior, this lady will join +us. Don’t look so scared, man. Are you anxious about your cushions or +your reputation?” + +The youth simpered and disclaimed. + +“Jump in, then, Miss Maxwell. Never mind the expense. It’s only the +family carriage;--surname and arms of Jones. Lucky there are no parents +to the fore. Put my shawl over you, so.” + +“O Blanche!” said Hope, “what injustice--” + +“I’ve done myself?” said the volatile damsel. “Not a doubt of it. That’s +my style, you know. But I have some sense; I know who’s who. Now, Jones, +junior, make your man handle the ribbons. I’ve always had a grudge +against that ordinance about fast driving, and now’s our chance.” + +And the sacred “ordinance,” with all other proprieties, was left in +ruins that day. They tore along the Avenue with unexplained and most +inexplicable speed, Hope being concealed by riding backward, and by a +large shawl, and Blanche and her admirer receiving the full indignation +of every chaste and venerable eye. Those who had tolerated all this +girl’s previous improprieties were obliged to admit that the line must +be drawn somewhere. She at once lost several good invitations and a +matrimonial offer, since Jones, junior, was swept away by his parents to +be wedded without delay to a consumptive heiress who had long pined +for his whiskers; and Count Posen, in his Souvenirs, was severer on +Blanche’s one good deed than on the worst of her follies. + +A few years after, when Blanche, then the fearless wife of a +regular-army officer, was helping Hope in the hospitals at Norfolk, she +would stop to shout with delight over the reminiscence of that stately +Jones equipage in mad career, amid the barking of dogs and the groaning +of dowagers. “After all, Hope,” she would say, “the fastest thing I ever +did was under your orders.” + + + + +XXI. A STORM. + +THE members of the household were all at the window about noon, next +day, watching the rise of a storm. A murky wing of cloud, shaped like +a hawk’s, hung over the low western hills across the bay. Then the hawk +became an eagle, and the eagle a gigantic phantom, that hovered over +half the visible sky. Beneath it, a little scud of vapor, moved by some +cross-current of air, raced rapidly against the wind, just above the +horizon, like smoke from a battle-field. + +As the cloud ascended, the water grew rapidly blacker, and in half an +hour broke into jets of white foam, all over its surface, with an +angry look. Meantime a white film of fog spread down the bay from the +northward. The wind hauled from southwest to northwest, so suddenly +and strongly that all the anchored boats seemed to have swung round +instantaneously, without visible process. The instant the wind shifted, +the rain broke forth, filling the air in a moment with its volume, +and cutting so sharply that it seemed like hail, though no hailstones +reached the ground. At the same time there rose upon the water a dense +white film, which seemed to grow together from a hundred different +directions, and was made partly of rain, and partly of the blown edges +of the spray. There was but a glimpse of this; for in a few moments it +was impossible to see two rods; but when the first gust was over, +the water showed itself again, the jets of spray all beaten down, and +regular waves, of dull lead-color, breaking higher on the shore. All the +depth of blackness had left the sky, and there remained only an obscure +and ominous gray, through which the lightning flashed white, not red. +Boats came driving in from the mouth of the bay with a rag of sail up; +the men got them moored with difficulty, and when they sculled ashore +in the skiffs, a dozen comrades stood ready to grasp and haul them in. +Others launched skiffs in sheltered places, and pulled out bareheaded +to bail out their fishing-boats and keep them from swamping at their +moorings. + +The shore was thronged with men in oilskin clothes and by women with +shawls over their heads. Aunt Jane, who always felt responsible for +whatever went on in the elements, sat in-doors with one lid closed, +wincing at every flash, and watching the universe with the air of a +coachman guiding six wild horses. + +Just after the storm had passed its height, two veritable wild +horses were reined up at the door, and Philip burst in, his usual +self-composure gone. + +“Emilia is out sailing!” he exclaimed,--“alone with Lambert’s boatman, +in this gale. They say she was bound for Narragansett.” + +“Impossible!” cried Hope, turning pale. “I left her not three hours +ago.” Then she remembered that Emilia had spoken of going on board the +yacht, to superintend some arrangements, but had said no more about it, +when she opposed it. + +“Harry!” said Aunt Jane, quickly, from her chair by the window, “see +that fisherman. He has just come ashore and is telling something. Ask +him.” + +The fisherman had indeed seen Lambert’s boat, which was well known. +Something seemed to be the matter with the sail, but before the storm +struck her, it had been hauled down. They must have taken in water +enough, as it was. He had himself been obliged to bail out three times, +running in from the reef. + +“Was there any landing which they could reach?” Harry asked. + +There was none,--but the light-ship lay right in their track, and if +they had good luck, they might get aboard of her. + +“The boatman?” said Philip, anxiously,--“Mr. Lambert’s boatman; is he a +good sailor?” + +“Don’t know,” was the reply. “Stranger here. Dutchman, Frenchman, +Portegee, or some kind of a foreigner.” + +“Seems to understand himself in a boat,” said another. + +“Mr. Malbone knows him,” said a third. “The same that dove with the +young woman under the steamboat paddles.” + +“Good grit,” said the first. + +“That’s so,” was the answer. “But grit don’t teach a man the channel.” + +All agreed to this axiom; but as there was so strong a probability that +the voyagers had reached the light-ship, there seemed less cause for +fear. + +The next question was, whether it was possible to follow them. All +agreed that it would be foolish for any boat to attempt it, till the +wind had blown itself out, which might be within half an hour. After +that, some predicted a calm, some a fog, some a renewal of the storm; +there was the usual variety of opinions. At any rate, there might +perhaps be an interval during which they could go out, if the gentlemen +did not mind a wet jacket. + +Within the half-hour came indeed an interval of calm, and a light shone +behind the clouds from the west. It faded soon into a gray fog, with +puffs of wind from the southwest again. When the young men went out with +the boatmen, the water had grown more quiet, save where angry little +gusts ruffled it. But these gusts made it necessary to carry a double +reef, and they made but little progress against wind and tide. + +A dark-gray fog, broken by frequent wind-flaws, makes the ugliest of all +days on the water. A still, pale fog is soothing; it lulls nature to +a kind of repose. But a windy fog with occasional sunbeams and sudden +films of metallic blue breaking the leaden water,--this carries an +impression of something weird and treacherous in the universe, and +suggests caution. + +As the boat floated on, every sight and sound appeared strange. The +music from the fort came sudden and startling through the vaporous +eddies. A tall white schooner rose instantaneously near them, like +a light-house. They could see the steam of the factory floating low, +seeking some outlet between cloud and water. As they drifted past a +wharf, the great black piles of coal hung high and gloomy; then a stray +sunbeam brought out their peacock colors; then came the fog again, +driving hurriedly by, as if impatient to go somewhere and enraged at the +obstacle. It seemed to have a vast inorganic life of its own, a volition +and a whim. It drew itself across the horizon like a curtain; then +advanced in trampling armies up the bay; then marched in masses +northward; then suddenly grew thin, and showed great spaces of sunlight; +then drifted across the low islands, like long tufts of wool; then +rolled itself away toward the horizon; then closed in again, pitiless +and gray. + +Suddenly something vast towered amid the mist above them. It was the +French war-ship returned to her anchorage once more, and seeming in that +dim atmosphere to be something spectral and strange that had taken form +out of the elements. The muzzles of great guns rose tier above tier, +along her side; great boats hung one above another, on successive pairs +of davits, at her stern. So high was her hull, that the topmost boat and +the topmost gun appeared to be suspended in middle air; and yet this +was but the beginning of her altitude. Above these were the heavy masts, +seen dimly through the mist; between these were spread eight dark lines +of sailors’ clothes, which, with the massive yards above, looked +like part of some ponderous framework built to reach the sky. This +prolongation of the whole dark mass toward the heavens had a portentous +look to those who gazed from below; and when the denser fog sometimes +furled itself away from the topgallant masts, hitherto invisible, and +showed them rising loftier yet, and the tricolor at the mizzen-mast-head +looking down as if from the zenith, then they all seemed to appertain +to something of more than human workmanship; a hundred wild tales of +phantom vessels came up to the imagination, and it was as if that one +gigantic structure were expanding to fill all space from sky to sea. + +They were swept past it; the fog closed in; it was necessary to land +near the Fort, and proceed on foot. They walked across the rough +peninsula, while the mist began to disperse again, and they were buoyant +with expectation. As they toiled onward, the fog suddenly met them at +the turn of a lane where it had awaited them, like an enemy. As they +passed into those gray and impalpable arms, the whole world changed +again. + +They walked toward the sound of the sea. As they approached it, the dull +hue that lay upon it resembled that of the leaden sky. The two elements +could hardly be distinguished except as the white outlines of the +successive breakers were lifted through the fog. The lines of surf +appeared constantly to multiply upon the beach, and yet, on counting +them, there were never any more. Sometimes, in the distance, masses +of foam rose up like a wall where the horizon ought to be; and, as the +coming waves took form out of the unseen, it seemed as if no phantom +were too vast or shapeless to come rolling in upon their dusky +shoulders. + +Presently a frail gleam of something like the ghost of dead sunshine +made them look toward the west. Above the dim roofs of Castle Hill +mansion-house, the sinking sun showed luridly through two rifts of +cloud, and then the swift motion of the nearer vapor veiled both sun and +cloud, and banished them into almost equal remoteness. + +Leaving the beach on their right, and passing the high rocks of the +Pirate’s Cave, they presently descended to the water’s edge once more. +The cliffs rose to a distorted height in the dimness; sprays of withered +grass nodded along the edge, like Ossian’s spectres. Light seemed to be +vanishing from the universe, leaving them alone with the sea. And when +a solitary loon uttered his wild cry, and rising, sped away into +the distance, it was as if life were following light into an equal +annihilation. That sense of vague terror, with which the ocean sometimes +controls the fancy, began to lay its grasp on them. They remembered that +Emilia, in speaking once of her intense shrinking from death, had said +that the sea was the only thing from which she would not fear to meet +it. + +Fog exaggerates both for eye and ear; it is always a sounding-board for +the billows; and in this case, as often happens, the roar did not appear +to proceed from the waves themselves, but from some source in the unseen +horizon, as if the spectators were shut within a beleaguered fortress, +and this thundering noise came from an impetuous enemy outside. Ever +and anon there was a distinct crash of heavier sound, as if some special +barricade had at length been beaten in, and the garrison must look to +their inner defences. + +The tide was unusually high, and scarcely receded with the ebb, though +the surf increased; the waves came in with constant rush and wail, and +with an ominous rattle of pebbles on the little beaches, beneath the +powerful suction of the undertow; and there were more and more of those +muffled throbs along the shore which tell of coming danger as plainly as +minute-guns. With these came mingled that yet more inexplicable humming +which one hears at intervals in such times, like strains of music caught +and tangled in the currents of stormy air,--strains which were perhaps +the filmy thread on which tales of sirens and mermaids were first +strung, and in which, at this time, they would fain recognize the voice +of Emilia. + + + + +XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. + +AS the night closed in, the wind rose steadily, still blowing from the +southwest. In Brenton’s kitchen they found a group round a great fire of +driftwood; some of these were fishermen who had with difficulty made a +landing on the beach, and who confirmed the accounts already given. +The boat had been seen sailing for the Narragansett shore, and when the +squall came, the boatman had lowered and reefed the sail, and stood for +the light-ship. They must be on board of her, if anywhere. + +“There are safe there?” asked Philip, eagerly. + +“Only place where they would be safe, then,” said the spokesman. + +“Unless the light-ship parts,” said an old fellow. + +“Parts!” said the other. “Sixty fathom of two-inch chain, and old Joe +talks about parting.” + +“Foolish, of course,” said Philip; “but it’s a dangerous shore.” + +“That’s so,” was the answer. “Never saw so many lines of reef show +outside, neither.” + +“There’s an old saying on this shore,” said Joe:-- + + + + “When Price’s Neck goes to Brenton’s Reef, + Body and soul will come to grief. + But when Brenton’s Reef comes to Price’s Neck, + Soul and body are both a wreck.” + + + +“What does it mean?” asked Harry. + +“It only means,” said somebody, “that when you see it white all the way +out from the Neck to the Reef, you can’t take the inside passage.” + +“But what does the last half mean?” persisted Harry. + +“Don’t know as I know,” said the veteran, and relapsed into silence, in +which all joined him, while the wind howled and whistled outside, and +the barred windows shook. + +Weary and restless with vain waiting, they looked from the doorway at +the weather. The door went back with a slam, and the gust swooped down +on them with that special blast that always seems to linger just outside +on such nights, ready for the first head that shows itself. They closed +the door upon the flickering fire and the uncouth shadows within, and +went forth into the night. At first the solid blackness seemed to lay a +weight on their foreheads. There was absolutely nothing to be seen +but the two lights of the light-ship, glaring from the dark sea like +a wolf’s eyes from a cavern. They looked nearer and brighter than in +ordinary nights, and appeared to the excited senses of the young men to +dance strangely on the waves, and to be always opposite to them, as they +moved along the shore with the wind almost at their backs. + +“What did that old fellow mean?” said Malbone in Harry’s ear, as they +came to a protected place and could hear each other, “by talking of +Brenton’s Reef coming to Price’s Neck.” + +“Some sailor’s doggerel,” said Harry, indifferently. “Here is Price’s +Neck before us, and yonder is Brenton’s Reef.” + +“Where?” said Philip, looking round bewildered. + +The lights had gone, as if the wolf, weary of watching, had suddenly +closed his eyes, and slumbered in his cave. + +Harry trembled and shivered. In Heaven’s name, what could this +disappearance mean? + +Suddenly a sheet of lightning came, so white and intense, it sent its +light all the way out to the horizon and exhibited far-off vessels, that +reeled and tossed and looked as if wandering without a guide. But this +was not so startling as what it showed in the foreground. + +There drifted heavily upon the waves, within full view from the shore, +moving parallel to it, yet gradually approaching, an uncouth shape that +seemed a vessel and yet not a vessel; two stunted masts projected above, +and below there could be read, in dark letters that apparently swayed +and trembled in the wan lightning, as the thing moved on, + + BRENTON’S REEF. + +Philip, leaning against a rock, gazed into the darkness where the +apparition had been; even Harry felt a thrill of half-superstitious +wonder, and listened half mechanically to a rough sailor’s voice at his +ear:-- + +“God! old Joe was right. There’s one wreck that is bound to make many. +The light-ship has parted.” + +“Drifting ashore,” said Harry, his accustomed clearness of head coming +back at a flash. “Where will she strike?” + +“Price’s Neck,” said the sailor. + +Harry turned to Philip and spoke to him, shouting in his ear the +explanation. Malbone’s lips moved mechanically, but he said nothing. +Passively, he let Harry take him by the arm, and lead him on. + +Following the sailor, they rounded a projecting point, and found +themselves a little sheltered from the wind. Not knowing the region, +they stumbled about among the rocks, and scarcely knew when they neared +the surf, except when a wave came swashing round their very feet. +Pausing at the end of a cove, they stood beside their conductor, and +their eyes, now grown accustomed, could make out vaguely the outlines of +the waves. + +The throat of the cove was so shoal and narrow, and the mass of the +waves so great, that they reared their heads enormously, just outside, +and spending their strength there, left a lower level within the cove. +Yet sometimes a series of great billows would come straight on, heading +directly for the entrance, and then the surface of the water within was +seen to swell suddenly upward as if by a terrible inward magic of its +own; it rose and rose, as if it would ingulf everything; then as rapidly +sank, and again presented a mere quiet vestibule before the excluded +waves. + +They saw in glimpses, as the lightning flashed, the shingly beach, +covered with a mass of creamy foam, all tremulous and fluctuating in +the wind; and this foam was constantly torn away by the gale in great +shreds, that whirled by them as if the very fragments of the ocean were +fleeing from it in terror, to take refuge in the less frightful element +of air. + +Still the wild waves reared their heads, like savage, crested animals, +now white, now black, looking in from the entrance of the cove. And now +there silently drifted upon them something higher, vaster, darker than +themselves,--the doomed vessel. It was strange how slowly and steadily +she swept in,--for her broken chain-cable dragged, as it afterwards +proved, and kept her stern-on to the shore,--and they could sometimes +hear amid the tumult a groan that seemed to come from the very heart of +the earth, as she painfully drew her keel over hidden reefs. Over five +of these (as was afterwards found) she had already drifted, and she rose +and fell more than once on the high waves at the very mouth of the cove, +like a wild bird hovering ere it pounces. + +Then there came one of those great confluences of waves described +already, which, lifting her bodily upward, higher and higher and higher, +suddenly rushed with her into the basin, filling it like an opened +dry-dock, crashing and roaring round the vessel and upon the rocks, then +sweeping out again and leaving her lodged, still stately and steady, at +the centre of the cove. + +They could hear from the crew a mingled sound, that came as a shout +of excitement from some and a shriek of despair from others. The vivid +lightning revealed for a moment those on shipboard to those on +shore; and blinding as it was, it lasted long enough to show figures +gesticulating and pointing. The old sailor, Mitchell, tried to build a +fire among the rocks nearest the vessel, but it was impossible, because +of the wind. This was a disappointment, for the light would have taken +away half the danger, and more than half the terror. Though the cove was +more quiet than the ocean, yet it was fearful enough, even there. The +vessel might hold together till morning, but who could tell? It was +almost certain that those on board would try to land, and there was +nothing to do but to await the effort. The men from the farmhouse had +meanwhile come down with ropes. + +It was simply impossible to judge with any accuracy of the distance of +the ship. One of these new-comers, who declared that she was lodged very +near, went to a point of rocks, and shouted to those on board to heave +him a rope. The tempest suppressed his voice, as it had put out the +fire. But perhaps the lightning had showed him to the dark figures on +the stern; for when the next flash came, they saw a rope flung, which +fell short. The real distance was more than a hundred yards. + +Then there was a long interval of darkness. The moment the next flash +came they saw a figure let down by a rope from the stern of the vessel, +while the hungry waves reared like wolves to seize it. Everybody crowded +down to the nearest rocks, looking this way and that for a head to +appear. They pressed eagerly in every direction where a bit of plank or +a barrel-head floated; they fancied faint cries here and there, and went +aimlessly to and fro. A new effort, after half a dozen failures, sent +a blaze mounting up fitfully among the rocks, startling all with the +sudden change its blessed splendor made. Then a shrill shout from one of +the watchers summoned all to a cleft in the cove, half shaded from the +firelight, where there came rolling in amidst the surf, more dead than +alive, the body of a man. He was the young foreigner, John Lambert’s +boatman. He bore still around him the rope that was to save the rest. + +How pale and eager their faces looked as they bent above him! But the +eagerness was all gone from his, and only the pallor left. While +the fishermen got the tackle rigged, such as it was, to complete the +communication with the vessel, the young men worked upon the boatman, +and soon had him restored to consciousness. He was able to explain that +the ship had been severely strained, and that all on board believed she +would go to pieces before morning. No one would risk being the first +to take the water, and he had at last volunteered, as being the +best swimmer, on condition that Emilia should be next sent, when the +communication was established. + +Two ropes were then hauled on board the vessel, a larger and a smaller. +By the flickering firelight and the rarer flashes of lightning (the rain +now falling in torrents) they saw a hammock slung to the larger rope; a +woman’s form was swathed in it; and the smaller rope being made fast to +this, they found by pulling that she could be drawn towards the shore. +Those on board steadied the hammock as it was lowered from the ship, but +the waves seemed maddened by this effort to escape their might, and they +leaped up at her again and again. The rope dropped beneath her weight, +and all that could be done from shore was to haul her in as fast as +possible, to abbreviate the period of buffeting and suffocation. As she +neared the rocks she could be kept more safe from the water; faster and +faster she was drawn in; sometimes there came some hitch and stoppage, +but by steady patience it was overcome. + +She was so near the rocks that hands were already stretched to grasp +her, when there came one of the great surging waves that sometimes +filled the basin. It gave a terrible lurch to the stranded vessel +hitherto so erect; the larger rope snapped instantly; the guiding rope +was twitched from the hands that held it; and the canvas that held +Emilia was caught and swept away like a shred of foam, and lost amid +the whiteness of the seething froth below. Fifteen minutes after, the +hammock came ashore empty, the lashings having parted. + +The cold daybreak was just opening, though the wind still blew keenly, +when they found the body of Emilia. It was swathed in a roll of +sea-weed, lying in the edge of the surf, on a broad, flat rock near +where the young boatman had come ashore. The face was not disfigured; +the clothing was only torn a little, and tangled closely round her; but +the life was gone. + +It was Philip who first saw her; and he stood beside her for a moment +motionless, stunned into an aspect of tranquility. This, then, was +the end. All his ready sympathy, his wooing tenderness, his winning +compliances, his self-indulgent softness, his perilous amiability, his +reluctance to give pain or to see sorrow,--all had ended in this. For +once, he must force even his accommodating and evasive nature to meet +the plain, blank truth. Now all his characteristics appeared changed by +the encounter; it was Harry who was ready, thoughtful, attentive,--while +Philip, who usually had all these traits, was paralyzed among his +dreams. Could he have fancied such a scene beforehand, he would have +vowed that no hand but his should touch the breathless form of Emilia. +As it was, he instinctively made way for the quick gathering of the +others, as if almost any one else had a better right to be there. + +The storm had blown itself out by sunrise; the wind had shifted, beating +down the waves; it seemed as if everything in nature were exhausted. +The very tide had ebbed away. The light-ship rested between the rocks, +helpless, still at the mercy of the returning waves, and yet still +upright and with that stately look of unconscious pleading which all +shipwrecked vessels wear, it is wonderfully like the look I have seen +in the face of some dead soldier, on whom war had done its worst. Every +line of a ship is so built for motion, every part, while afloat, seems +so full of life and so answering to the human life it bears, that this +paralysis of shipwreck touches the imagination as if the motionless +thing had once been animated by a soul. + +And not far from the vessel, in a chamber of the seaside farm-house, +lay the tenderer and fairer wreck of Emilia. Her storms and her passions +were ended. The censure of the world, the anguish of friends, the +clinging arms of love, were nothing now to her. Again the soft shelter +of unconsciousness had clasped her in; but this time the trance was +longer and the faintness was unto death. + +From the moment of her drifting ashore, it was the young boatman who +had assumed the right to care for her and to direct everything. Philip +seemed stunned; Harry was his usual clear-headed and efficient self; but +to his honest eyes much revealed itself in a little while; and when Hope +arrived in the early morning, he said to her, “This boatman, who once +saved your life, is Emilia’s Swiss lover, Antoine Marval.” + +“More than lover,” said the young Swiss, overhearing. “She was my wife +before God, when you took her from me. In my country, a betrothal is +as sacred as a marriage. Then came that man, he filled her heart with +illusions, and took her away in my absence. When my brother was here +in the corvette, he found her for me. Then I came for her; I saved her +sister; then I saw the name on the card and would not give my own. I +became her servant. She saw me in the yacht, only once; she knew me; she +was afraid. Then she said, ‘Perhaps I still love you,--a little; I do +not know; I am in despair; take me from this home I hate.’ We sailed +that day in the small boat for Narragansett,--I know not where. She +hardly looked up or spoke; but for me, I cared for nothing since she +was with me. When the storm came, she was frightened, and said, ‘It is a +retribution.’ I said, ‘You shall never go back.’ She never did. Here she +is. You cannot take her from me.” + +Once on board the light-ship, she had been assigned the captain’s +state-room, while Antoine watched at the door. She seemed to shrink from +him whenever he went to speak to her, he owned, but she answered kindly +and gently, begging to be left alone. When at last the vessel parted her +moorings, he persuaded Emilia to come on deck and be lashed to the mast, +where she sat without complaint. + +Who can fathom the thoughts of that bewildered child, as she sat amid +the spray and the howling of the blast, while the doomed vessel drifted +on with her to the shore? Did all the error and sorrow of her life pass +distinctly before her? Or did the roar of the surf lull her into quiet, +like the unconscious kindness of wild creatures that toss and bewilder +their prey into unconsciousness ere they harm it? None can tell. Death +answers no questions; it only makes them needless. + +The morning brought to the scene John Lambert, just arrived by land from +New York. + +The passion of John Lambert for his wife was of that kind which ennobles +while it lasts, but which rarely outlasts marriage. A man of such +uncongenial mould will love an enchanting woman with a mad, absorbing +passion, where self-sacrifice is so mingled with selfishness that the +two emotions seem one; he will hungrily yearn to possess her, to call +her by his own name, to hold her in his arms, to kill any one else who +claims her. But when she is once his wife, and his arms hold a body +without a soul,--no soul at least for him,--then her image is almost +inevitably profaned, and the passion which began too high for earth ends +far too low for heaven. Let now death change that form to marble, and +instantly it resumes its virgin holiness; though the presence of life +did not sanctify, its departure does. It is only the true lover to whom +the breathing form is as sacred as the breathless. + +That ideality of nature which love had developed in this man, and which +had already drooped a little during his brief period of marriage, was +born again by the side of death. While Philip wandered off silent and +lonely with his grief, John Lambert knelt by the beautiful remains, +talking inarticulately, his eyes streaming with unchecked tears. Again +was Emilia, in her marble paleness, the calm centre of a tragedy she +herself had caused. The wild, ungoverned child was the image of peace; +it was the stolid and prosperous man who was in the storm. It was not +till Hope came that there was any change. Then his prostrate nature +sought hers, as the needle leaps to the iron; the first touch of her +hand, the sight of her kiss upon Emilia’s forehead, made him strong. It +was the thorough subjection of a worldly man to the higher organization +of a noble woman, and thenceforth it never varied. In later years, after +he had foolishly sought, as men will, to win her to a nearer tie, there +was no moment when she had not full control over his time, his energies, +and his wealth. + +After it was all ended, Hope told him everything that had happened; but +in that wild moment of his despair she told him nothing. Only she and +Harry knew the story of the young Swiss; and now that Emilia was gone, +her early lover had no wish to speak of her to any but these two, or to +linger long where she had been doubly lost to him, by marriage and by +death. The world, with all its prying curiosity, usually misses the key +to the very incidents about which it asks most questions; and of the +many who gossiped or mourned concerning Emilia, none knew the tragic +complication which her death alone could have solved. The breaking of +Hope’s engagement to Philip was attributed to every cause but the true +one. And when the storm of the great Rebellion broke over the land, its +vast calamity absorbed all minor griefs. + + + + +XXIII. REQUIESCAT. + +THANK God! it is not within the power of one man’s errors to blight the +promise of a life like that of Hope. It is but a feeble destiny that +is wrecked by passion, when it should be ennobled. Aunt Jane and Kate +watched Hope closely during her years of probation, for although she +fancied herself to be keeping her own counsel, yet her career lay +in broad light for them. She was like yonder sailboat, which floats +conspicuous by night amid the path of moonbeams, and which yet seems to +its own voyagers to be remote and unseen upon a waste of waves. + +Why should I linger over the details of her life, after the width +of ocean lay between her and Malbone, and a manhood of self-denying +usefulness had begun to show that even he could learn something by +life’s retributions? We know what she was, and it is of secondary +importance where she went or what she did. Kindle the light of the +light-house, and it has nothing to do, except to shine. There is for it +no wrong direction. There is no need to ask, “How? Over which especial +track of distant water must my light go forth, to find the wandering +vessel to be guided in?” It simply shines. Somewhere there is a ship +that needs it, or if not, the light does its duty. So did Hope. + +We must leave her here. Yet I cannot bear to think of her as passing +through earthly life without tasting its deepest bliss, without the last +pure ecstasy of human love, without the kisses of her own children on +her lips, their waxen fingers on her bosom. + +And yet again, is this life so long? May it not be better to wait until +its little day is done, and the summer night of old age has yielded to +a new morning, before attaining that acme of joy? Are there enough +successive grades of bliss for all eternity, if so much be consummated +here? Must all novels end with an earthly marriage, and nothing be left +for heaven? + +Perhaps, for such as Hope, this life is given to show what happiness +might be, and they await some other sphere for its fulfilment. The +greater part of the human race live out their mortal years without +attaining more than a far-off glimpse of the very highest joy. Were this +life all, its very happiness were sadness. If, as I doubt not, there +be another sphere, then that which is unfulfilled in this must yet +find completion, nothing omitted, nothing denied. And though a thousand +oracles should pronounce this thought an idle dream, neither Hope nor I +would believe them. + +It was a radiant morning of last February when I walked across the low +hills to the scene of the wreck. Leaving the road before reaching +the Fort, I struck across the wild moss-country, full of boulders and +footpaths and stunted cedars and sullen ponds. I crossed the height of +land, where the ruined lookout stands like the remains of a Druidical +temple, and then went down toward the ocean. Banks and ridges of snow +lay here and there among the fields, and the white lines of distant +capes seemed but drifts running seaward. The ocean was gloriously +alive,--the blackest blue, with white caps on every wave; the shore was +all snowy, and the gulls were flying back and forth in crowds; you could +not tell whether they were the white waves coming ashore, or bits of +snow going to sea. A single fragment of ship-timber, black with time and +weeds, and crusty with barnacles, heaved to and fro in the edge of the +surf, and two fishermen’s children, a boy and girl, tilted upon it as it +moved, clung with the semblance of terror to each other, and played at +shipwreck. + +The rocks were dark with moisture, steaming in the sun. Great sheets of +ice, white masks of departing winter, clung to every projecting cliff, +or slid with crash and shiver into the surge. Icicles dropped their slow +and reverberating tears upon the rock where Emilia once lay breathless; +and it seemed as if their cold, chaste drops were sent to cleanse from +her memory each scarlet stain, and leave it virginal and pure. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + +***** This file should be named 993-0.txt or 993-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/993/ + +Produced by Judy Boss + +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. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/993-0.zip b/993-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d96d24 --- /dev/null +++ b/993-0.zip diff --git a/993-h.zip b/993-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7587d29 --- /dev/null +++ b/993-h.zip diff --git a/993-h/993-h.htm b/993-h/993-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..141a3b5 --- /dev/null +++ b/993-h/993-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6336 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +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: Malbone + An Oldport Romance + +Author: Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +Release Date: July 27, 2008 [EBook #993] +Last Updated: November 8, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + MALBONE + </h1> + <h2> + AN OLDPORT ROMANCE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Thomas Wentworth Higginson + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + “What is Nature unless there is an eventful human life passing within her?<br /> + <br /> Many joys and many sorrows are the lights and shadows in which she + shows most beautiful."<br /> <br /> —THOREAU, MS. Diary. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>MALBONE.</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> PRELUDE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. AN ARRIVAL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. PLACE AUX DAMES! </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V. A MULTIVALVE HEART. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI. “SOME LOVER’S CLEAR DAY.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII. TALKING IT OVER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. DANGEROUS WAYS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. REMONSTRANCES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. DREAMING DREAMS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. THE NEMESIS OF PASSION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. ACROSS THE BAY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. ON THE STAIRS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII. DISCOVERY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVIII. HOPE’S VIGIL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX. DE PROFUNDIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXI. A STORM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIII. REQUIESCAT. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + MALBONE. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PRELUDE. + </h2> + <p> + AS one wanders along this southwestern promontory of the Isle of Peace, + and looks down upon the green translucent water which forever bathes the + marble slopes of the Pirates’ Cave, it is natural to think of the ten + wrecks with which the past winter has strewn this shore. Though almost all + trace of their presence is already gone, yet their mere memory lends to + these cliffs a human interest. Where a stranded vessel lies, thither all + steps converge, so long as one plank remains upon another. There centres + the emotion. All else is but the setting, and the eye sweeps with + indifference the line of unpeopled rocks. They are barren, till the + imagination has tenanted them with possibilities of danger and dismay. The + ocean provides the scenery and properties of a perpetual tragedy, but the + interest arrives with the performers. Till then the shores remain vacant, + like the great conventional armchairs of the French drama, that wait for + Rachel to come and die. + </p> + <p> + Yet as I ride along this fashionable avenue in August, and watch the + procession of the young and fair,—as I look at stately houses, from + each of which has gone forth almost within my memory a funeral or a bride,—then + every thoroughfare of human life becomes in fancy but an ocean shore, with + its ripples and its wrecks. One learns, in growing older, that no fiction + can be so strange nor appear so improbable as would the simple truth; and + that doubtless even Shakespeare did but timidly transcribe a few of the + deeds and passions he had personally known. For no man of middle age can + dare trust himself to portray life in its full intensity, as he has + studied or shared it; he must resolutely set aside as indescribable the + things most worth describing, and must expect to be charged with + exaggeration, even when he tells the rest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. AN ARRIVAL. + </h2> + <p> + IT was one of the changing days of our Oldport midsummer. In the morning + it had rained in rather a dismal way, and Aunt Jane had said she should + put it in her diary. It was a very serious thing for the elements when + they got into Aunt Jane’s diary. By noon the sun came out as clear and + sultry as if there had never been a cloud, the northeast wind died away, + the bay was motionless, the first locust of the summer shrilled from the + elms, and the robins seemed to be serving up butterflies hot for their + insatiable second brood, while nothing seemed desirable for a human + luncheon except ice-cream and fans. In the afternoon the southwest wind + came up the bay, with its line of dark-blue ripple and its delicious + coolness; while the hue of the water grew more and more intense, till we + seemed to be living in the heart of a sapphire. + </p> + <p> + The household sat beneath the large western doorway of the old Maxwell + House,—he rear door, which looks on the water. The house had just + been reoccupied by my Aunt Jane, whose great-grandfather had built it, + though it had for several generations been out of the family. I know no + finer specimen of those large colonial dwellings in which the genius of + Sir Christopher Wren bequeathed traditions of stateliness to our + democratic days. Its central hall has a carved archway; most of the rooms + have painted tiles and are wainscoted to the ceiling; the sashes are + red-cedar, the great staircase mahogany; there are pilasters with delicate + Corinthian capitals; there are cherubs’ heads and wings that go astray and + lose themselves in closets and behind glass doors; there are curling + acanthus-leaves that cluster over shelves and ledges, and there are those + graceful shell-patterns which one often sees on old furniture, but rarely + in houses. The high front door still retains its Ionic cornice; and the + western entrance, looking on the bay, is surmounted by carved fruit and + flowers, and is crowned, as is the roof, with that pineapple in whose + symbolic wealth the rich merchants of the last century delighted. + </p> + <p> + Like most of the statelier houses in that region of Oldport, this abode + had its rumors of a ghost and of secret chambers. The ghost had never been + properly lionized nor laid, for Aunt Jane, the neatest of housekeepers, + had discouraged all silly explorations, had at once required all barred + windows to be opened, all superfluous partitions to be taken down, and + several highly eligible dark-closets to be nailed up. If there was + anything she hated, it was nooks and odd corners. Yet there had been times + that year, when the household would have been glad to find a few more such + hiding-places; for during the first few weeks the house had been crammed + with guests so closely that the very mice had been ill-accommodated and + obliged to sit up all night, which had caused them much discomfort and + many audible disagreements. + </p> + <p> + But this first tumult had passed away; and now there remained only the + various nephews and nieces of the house, including a due proportion of + small children. Two final guests were to arrive that day, bringing the + latest breath of Europe on their wings,—Philip Malbone, Hope’s + betrothed; and little Emilia, Hope’s half-sister. + </p> + <p> + None of the family had seen Emilia since her wandering mother had taken + her abroad, a fascinating spoiled child of four, and they were all eager + to see in how many ways the succeeding twelve years had completed or + corrected the spoiling. As for Philip, he had been spoiled, as Aunt Jane + declared, from the day of his birth, by the joint effort of all friends + and neighbors. Everybody had conspired to carry on the process except Aunt + Jane herself, who directed toward him one of her honest, steady, immovable + dislikes, which may be said to have dated back to the time when his father + and mother were married, some years before he personally entered on the + scene. + </p> + <p> + The New York steamer, detained by the heavy fog of the night before, now + came in unwonted daylight up the bay. At the first glimpse, Harry and the + boys pushed off in the row-boat; for, as one of the children said, anybody + who had been to Venice would naturally wish to come to the very house in a + gondola. In another half-hour there was a great entanglement of embraces + at the water-side, for the guests had landed. + </p> + <p> + Malbone’s self-poised easy grace was the same as ever; his chestnut-brown + eyes were as winning, his features as handsome; his complexion, too + clearly pink for a man, had a sea bronze upon it: he was the same Philip + who had left home, though with some added lines of care. But in the + brilliant little fairy beside him all looked in vain for the Emilia they + remembered as a child. Her eyes were more beautiful than ever,—the + darkest violet eyes, that grew luminous with thought and almost black with + sorrow. Her gypsy taste, as everybody used to call it, still showed itself + in the scarlet and dark blue of her dress; but the clouded gypsy tint had + gone from her cheek, and in its place shone a deep carnation, so hard and + brilliant that it appeared to be enamelled on the surface, yet so firm and + deep-dyed that it seemed as if not even death could ever blanch it. There + is a kind of beauty that seems made to be painted on ivory, and such was + hers. Only the microscopic pencil of a miniature-painter could portray + those slender eyebrows, that arched caressingly over the beautiful eyes,—or + the silky hair of darkest chestnut that crept in a wavy line along the + temples, as if longing to meet the brows,—or those unequalled + lashes! “Unnecessarily long,” Aunt Jane afterwards pronounced them; while + Kate had to admit that they did indeed give Emilia an overdressed look at + breakfast, and that she ought to have a less showy set to match her + morning costume. + </p> + <p> + But what was most irresistible about Emilia,—that which we all + noticed in this interview, and which haunted us all thenceforward,—was + a certain wild, entangled look she wore, as of some untamed out-door + thing, and a kind of pathetic lost sweetness in her voice, which made her + at once and forever a heroine of romance with the children. Yet she + scarcely seemed to heed their existence, and only submitted to the kisses + of Hope and Kate as if that were a part of the price of coming home, and + she must pay it. + </p> + <p> + Had she been alone, there might have been an awkward pause; for if you + expect a cousin, and there alights a butterfly of the tropics, what + hospitality can you offer? But no sense of embarrassment ever came near + Malbone, especially with the children to swarm over him and claim him for + their own. Moreover, little Helen got in the first remark in the way of + serious conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell him something!” said the child. “Philip! that doll of mine + that you used to know, only think! she was sick and died last summer, and + went into the rag-bag. And the other split down the back, so there was an + end of her.” + </p> + <p> + Polar ice would have been thawed by this reopening of communication. + Philip soon had the little maid on his shoulder,—the natural throne + of all children,—and they went in together to greet Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane was the head of the house,—a lady who had spent more than + fifty years in educating her brains and battling with her ailments. She + had received from her parents a considerable inheritance in the way of + whims, and had nursed it up into a handsome fortune. Being one of the most + impulsive of human beings, she was naturally one of the most entertaining; + and behind all her eccentricities there was a fund of the soundest sense + and the tenderest affection. She had seen much and varied society, had + been greatly admired in her youth, but had chosen to remain unmarried. + Obliged by her physical condition to make herself the first object, she + was saved from utter selfishness by sympathies as democratic as her + personal habits were exclusive. Unexpected and commonly fantastic in her + doings, often dismayed by small difficulties, but never by large ones, she + sagaciously administered the affairs of all those around her,—planned + their dinners and their marriages, fought out their bargains and their + feuds. + </p> + <p> + She hated everything irresolute or vague; people might play at + cat’s-cradle or study Spinoza, just as they pleased; but, whatever they + did, they must give their minds to it. She kept house from an easy-chair, + and ruled her dependants with severity tempered by wit, and by the very + sweetest voice in which reproof was ever uttered. She never praised them, + but if they did anything particularly well, rebuked them retrospectively, + asking why they had never done it well before? But she treated them + munificently, made all manner of plans for their comfort, and they all + thought her the wisest and wittiest of the human race. So did the youths + and maidens of her large circle; they all came to see her, and she + counselled, admired, scolded, and petted them all. She had the gayest + spirits, and an unerring eye for the ludicrous, and she spoke her mind + with absolute plainness to all comers. Her intuitions were instantaneous + as lightning, and, like that, struck very often in the wrong place. She + was thus extremely unreasonable and altogether charming. + </p> + <p> + Such was the lady whom Emilia and Malbone went up to greet,—the one + shyly, the other with an easy assurance, such as she always disliked. + Emilia submitted to another kiss, while Philip pressed Aunt Jane’s hand, + as he pressed all women’s, and they sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Now begin to tell your adventures,” said Kate. “People always tell their + adventures till tea is ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Who can have any adventures left,” said Philip, “after such letters as I + wrote you all?” + </p> + <p> + “Of which we got precisely one!” said Kate. “That made it such an event, + after we had wondered in what part of the globe you might be looking for + the post-office! It was like finding a letter in a bottle, or + disentangling a person from the Dark Ages.” + </p> + <p> + “I was at Neuchatel two months; but I had no adventures. I lodged with a + good Pasteur, who taught me geology and German.” + </p> + <p> + “That is suspicious,” said Kate. “Had he a daughter passing fair?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed he had.” + </p> + <p> + “And you taught her English? That is what these beguiling youths always do + in novels.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “What was her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Lili.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pretty name! How old was she?” + </p> + <p> + “She was six.” + </p> + <p> + “O Philip!” cried Kate; “but I might have known it. Did she love you very + much?” + </p> + <p> + Hope looked up, her eyes full of mild reproach at the possibility of + doubting any child’s love for Philip. He had been her betrothed for more + than a year, during which time she had habitually seen him wooing every + child he had met as if it were a woman,—which, for Philip, was + saying a great deal. Happily they had in common the one trait of perfect + amiability, and she knew no more how to be jealous than he to be constant. + </p> + <p> + “Lili was easily won,” he said. “Other things being equal, people of six + prefer that man who is tallest.” + </p> + <p> + “Philip is not so very tall,” said the eldest of the boys, who was + listening eagerly, and growing rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Philip, meekly. “But then the Pasteur was short, and his + brother was a dwarf.” + </p> + <p> + “When Lili found that she could reach the ceiling from Mr. Malbone’s + shoulder,” said Emilia, “she asked no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you knew the pastor’s family also, my child,” said Aunt Jane, + looking at her kindly and a little keenly. + </p> + <p> + “I was allowed to go there sometimes,” she began, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “To meet her American Cousin,” interrupted Philip. “I got some relaxation + in the rules of the school. But, Aunt Jane, you have told us nothing about + your health.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to tell,” she answered. “I should like, if it were + convenient, to be a little better. But in this life, if one can walk + across the floor, and not be an idiot, it is something. That is all I aim + at.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it rather tiresome?” said Emilia, as the elder lady happened to + look at her. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Aunt Jane, composedly. “I naturally fall back into + happiness, when left to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “So you have returned to the house of your fathers,” said Philip. “I hope + you like it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is commonplace in one respect,” said Aunt Jane. “General Washington + once slept here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Philip. “It is one of that class of houses?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she. “There is not a village in America that has not half a + dozen of them, not counting those where he only breakfasted. Did ever man + sleep like that man? What else could he ever have done? Who governed, I + wonder, while he was asleep? How he must have travelled! The swiftest + horse could scarcely have carried him from one of these houses to + another.” + </p> + <p> + “I never was attached to the memory of Washington,” meditated Philip; “but + I always thought it was the pear-tree. It must have been that he was such + a very unsettled person.” + </p> + <p> + “He certainly was not what is called a domestic character,” said Aunt + Jane. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are, Miss Maxwell,” said Philip. “Do you often go out?” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, to drive,” said Aunt Jane. “Yesterday I went shopping with + Kate, and sat in the carriage while she bought under-sleeves enough for a + centipede. It is always so with that child. People talk about the trouble + of getting a daughter ready to be married; but it is like being married + once a month to live with her.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder that you take her to drive with you,” suggested Philip, + sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “It is a great deal worse to drive without her,” said the impetuous lady. + “She is the only person who lets me enjoy things, and now I cannot enjoy + them in her absence. Yesterday I drove alone over the three beaches, and + left her at home with a dress-maker. Never did I see so many lines of + surf; but they only seemed to me like some of Kate’s ball-dresses, with + the prevailing flounces, six deep. I was so enraged that she was not + there, I wished to cover my face with my handkerchief. By the third beach + I was ready for the madhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Oldport a pleasant place to live in?” asked Emilia, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “It is amusing in the summer,” said Aunt Jane, “though the society is + nothing but a pack of visiting-cards. In winter it is too dull for young + people, and only suits quiet old women like me, who merely live here to + keep the Ten Commandments and darn their stockings.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime the children were aiming at Emilia, whose butterfly looks amazed + and charmed them, but who evidently did not know what to do with their + eager affection. + </p> + <p> + “I know about you,” said little Helen; “I know what you said when you were + little.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say anything?” asked Emilia, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the child, and began to repeat the oft-told domestic + tradition in an accurate way, as if it were a school lesson. “Once you had + been naughty, and your papa thought it his duty to slap you, and you + cried; and he told you in French, because he always spoke French with you, + that he did not punish you for his own pleasure. Then you stopped crying, + and asked, ‘Pour le plaisir de qui alors?’ That means ‘For whose pleasure + then?’ Hope said it was a droll question for a little girl to ask.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think it was Emilia who asked that remarkable question, little + girl,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say it was,” said Emilia; “I have been asking it all my life.” Her + eyes grew very moist, what with fatigue and excitement. But just then, as + is apt to happen in this world, they were all suddenly recalled from tears + to tea, and the children smothered their curiosity in strawberries and + cream. + </p> + <p> + They sat again beside the western door, after tea. The young moon came + from a cloud and dropped a broad path of glory upon the bay; a black yacht + glided noiselessly in, and anchored amid this tract of splendor. The + shadow of its masts was on the luminous surface, while their reflection + lay at a different angle, and seemed to penetrate far below. Then the + departing steamer went flashing across this bright realm with gorgeous + lustre; its red and green lights were doubled in the paler waves, its four + reflected chimneys chased each other among the reflected masts. This + jewelled wonder passing, a single fishing-boat drifted silently by, with + its one dark sail; and then the moon and the anchored yacht were left + alone. + </p> + <p> + Presently some of the luggage came from the wharf. Malbone brought out + presents for everybody; then all the family went to Europe in photographs, + and with some reluctance came back to America for bed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + </h2> + <p> + IN every town there is one young maiden who is the universal favorite, who + belongs to all sets and is made an exception to all family feuds, who is + the confidante of all girls and the adopted sister of all young men, up to + the time when they respectively offer themselves to her, and again after + they are rejected. This post was filled in Oldport, in those days, by my + cousin Kate. + </p> + <p> + Born into the world with many other gifts, this last and least definable + gift of popularity was added to complete them all. Nobody criticised her, + nobody was jealous of her, her very rivals lent her their new music and + their lovers; and her own discarded wooers always sought her to be a + bridesmaid when they married somebody else. + </p> + <p> + She was one of those persons who seem to have come into the world + well-dressed. There was an atmosphere of elegance around her, like a + costume; every attitude implied a presence-chamber or a ball-room. The + girls complained that in private theatricals no combination of disguises + could reduce Kate to the ranks, nor give her the “make-up” of a + waiting-maid. Yet as her father was a New York merchant of the precarious + or spasmodic description, she had been used from childhood to the wildest + fluctuations of wardrobe;—a year of Paris dresses,—then + another year spent in making over ancient finery, that never looked like + either finery or antiquity when it came from her magic hands. Without a + particle of vanity or fear, secure in health and good-nature and + invariable prettiness, she cared little whether the appointed means of + grace were ancient silk or modern muslin. In her periods of poverty, she + made no secret of the necessary devices; the other girls, of course, + guessed them, but her lovers never did, because she always told them. + There was one particular tarlatan dress of hers which was a sort of local + institution. It was known to all her companions, like the State House. + There was a report that she had first worn it at her christening; the + report originated with herself. The young men knew that she was going to + the party if she could turn that pink tarlatan once more; but they had + only the vaguest impression what a tarlatan was, and cared little on which + side it was worn, so long as Kate was inside. + </p> + <p> + During these epochs of privation her life, in respect to dress, was a + perpetual Christmas-tree of second-hand gifts. Wealthy aunts supplied her + with cast-off shoes of all sizes, from two and a half up to five, and she + used them all. She was reported to have worn one straw hat through five + changes of fashion. It was averred that, when square crowns were in vogue, + she flattened it over a tin pan, and that, when round crowns returned, she + bent it on the bedpost. There was such a charm in her way of adapting + these treasures, that the other girls liked to test her with new problems + in the way of millinery and dress-making; millionnaire friends implored + her to trim their hats, and lent her their own things in order to learn + how to wear them. This applied especially to certain rich cousins, shy and + studious girls, who adored her, and to whom society only ceased to be + alarming when the brilliant Kate took them under her wing, and graciously + accepted a few of their newest feathers. Well might they acquiesce, for + she stood by them superbly, and her most favored partners found no way to + her hand so sure as to dance systematically through that staid sisterhood. + Dear, sunshiny, gracious, generous Kate!—who has ever done justice + to the charm given to this grave old world by the presence of one + free-hearted and joyous girl? + </p> + <p> + At the time now to be described, however, Kate’s purse was well filled; + and if she wore only second-best finery, it was because she had lent her + very best to somebody else. All that her doting father asked was to pay + for her dresses, and to see her wear them; and if her friends wore a part + of them, it only made necessary a larger wardrobe, and more varied and + pleasurable shopping. She was as good a manager in wealth as in poverty, + wasted nothing, took exquisite care of everything, and saved faithfully + for some one else all that was not needed for her own pretty person. + </p> + <p> + Pretty she was throughout, from the parting of her jet-black hair to the + high instep of her slender foot; a glancing, brilliant, brunette beauty, + with the piquant charm of perpetual spirits, and the equipoise of a + perfectly healthy nature. She was altogether graceful, yet she had not the + fresh, free grace of her cousin Hope, who was lithe and strong as a + hawthorne spray: Kate’s was the narrower grace of culture grown + hereditary, an in-door elegance that was born in her, and of which + dancing-school was but the natural development. You could not picture Hope + to your mind in one position more than in another; she had an endless + variety of easy motion. When you thought of Kate, you remembered precisely + how she sat, how she stood, and how she walked. That was all, and it was + always the same. But is not that enough? We do not ask of Mary Stuart’s + portrait that it should represent her in more than one attitude, and why + should a living beauty need more than two or three? + </p> + <p> + Kate was betrothed to her cousin Harry, Hope’s brother, and, though she + was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to each other for a time + so long that the memory of man or maiden aunt ran not to the contrary. She + always declared, indeed, that they were born married, and that their + wedding-day would seem like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet, + unobtrusive, and manly. He might seem commonplace at first beside the + brilliant Kate and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never + commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His strong, + steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature; when he came into the + room, you felt as if a good many people had been added to the company. He + made steady progress in his profession of the law, through sheer worth; he + never dazzled, but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with short, curling + hair, blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color readily mounted. + Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient and amiable, but, when + overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a single instant, and no more. It + seemed as if a sudden flash of anger went over him, like the flash that + glides along the glutinous stem of the fraxinella, when you touch it with + a candle; the next moment it had utterly vanished, and was forgotten as if + it had never been. + </p> + <p> + Kate’s love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured ties that + often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures. For other + temperaments it might have been inadequate; but theirs matched perfectly, + and it was all sufficient for them. If there was within Kate’s range a + more heroic and ardent emotion than that inspired by Harry, it was put + forth toward Hope. This was her idolatry; she always said that it was + fortunate Hope was Hal’s sister, or she should have felt it her duty to + give them to each other, and not die till the wedding was accomplished. + Harry shared this adoration to quite a reasonable extent, for a brother; + but his admiration for Philip Malbone was one that Kate did not quite + share. Harry’s quieter mood had been dazzled from childhood by Philip, who + had always been a privileged guest in the household. Kate’s clear, + penetrating, buoyant nature had divined Phil’s weaknesses, and had + sometimes laughed at them, even from her childhood; though she did not + dislike him, for she did not dislike anybody. But Harry was magnetized by + him very much as women were; believed him true, because he was tender, and + called him only fastidious where Kate called him lazy. + </p> + <p> + Kate was spending that summer with her aunt Jane, whose especial pet and + pride she was. Hope was spending there the summer vacation of a Normal + School in which she had just become a teacher. Her father had shared in + the family ups and downs, but had finally stayed down, while the rest had + remained up. Fortunately, his elder children were indifferent to this, and + indeed rather preferred it; it was a tradition that Hope had expressed the + wish, when a child, that her father might lose his property, so that she + could become a teacher. As for Harry, he infinitely preferred the drudgery + of a law office to that of a gentleman of leisure; and as for their + step-mother, it turned out, when she was left a widow, that she had + secured for herself and Emilia whatever property remained, so that she + suffered only the delightful need of living in Europe for economy. + </p> + <p> + The elder brother and sister had alike that fine physical vigor which New + England is now developing, just in time to save it from decay. Hope was of + Saxon type, though a shade less blonde than her brother; she was a little + taller, and of more commanding presence, with a peculiarly noble carriage + of the shoulders. Her brow was sometimes criticised as being a little too + full for a woman; but her nose was straight, her mouth and teeth + beautiful, and her profile almost perfect. Her complexion had lost by + out-door life something of its delicacy, but had gained a freshness and + firmness that no sunlight could impair. She had that wealth of hair which + young girls find the most enviable point of beauty in each other. Hers + reached below her knees, when loosened, or else lay coiled, in munificent + braids of gold, full of sparkling lights and contrasted shadows, upon her + queenly head. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were much darker than her hair, and had a way of opening naively + and suddenly, with a perfectly infantine expression, as if she at that + moment saw the sunlight for the first time. Her long lashes were somewhat + like Emilia’s, and she had the same deeply curved eyebrows; in no other + point was there a shade of resemblance between the half-sisters. As + compared with Kate, Hope showed a more abundant physical life; there was + more blood in her; she had ampler outlines, and health more absolutely + unvaried, for she had yet to know the experience of a day’s illness. Kate + seemed born to tread upon a Brussels carpet, and Hope on the softer luxury + of the forest floor. Out of doors her vigor became a sort of ecstasy, and + she walked the earth with a jubilee of the senses, such as Browning + attributes to his Saul. + </p> + <p> + This inexhaustible freshness of physical organization seemed to open the + windows of her soul, and make for her a new heaven and earth every day. It + gave also a peculiar and almost embarrassing directness to her mental + processes, and suggested in them a sort of final and absolute value, as if + truth had for the first time found a perfectly translucent medium. It was + not so much that she said rare things, but her very silence was eloquent, + and there was a great deal of it. Her girlhood had in it a certain dignity + as of a virgin priestess or sibyl. Yet her hearty sympathies and her + healthy energy made her at home in daily life, and in a democratic + society. To Kate, for instance, she was a necessity of existence, like + light or air. Kate’s nature was limited; part of her graceful equipoise + was narrowness. Hope was capable of far more self-abandonment to a + controlling emotion, and, if she ever erred, would err more widely, for it + would be because the whole power of her conscience was misdirected. “Once + let her take wrong for right,” said Aunt Jane, “and stop her if you can; + these born saints give a great deal more trouble than children of this + world, like my Kate.” Yet in daily life Hope yielded to her cousin nine + times out of ten; but the tenth time was the key to the situation. Hope + loved Kate devotedly; but Kate believed in her as the hunted fugitive + believes in the north star. + </p> + <p> + To these maidens, thus united, came Emilia home from Europe. The father of + Harry and Hope had been lured into a second marriage with Emilia’s mother, + a charming and unscrupulous woman, born with an American body and a French + soul. She having once won him to Paris, held him there life-long, and kept + her step-children at a safe distance. She arranged that, even after her + own death, her daughter should still remain abroad for education; nor was + Emilia ordered back until she brought down some scandal by a romantic + attempt to elope from boarding-school with a Swiss servant. It was by + weaning her heart from this man that Philip Malbone had earned the thanks + of the whole household during his hasty flight through Europe. He + possessed some skill in withdrawing the female heart from an undesirable + attachment, though it was apt to be done by substituting another. It was + fortunate that, in this case, no fears could be entertained. Since his + engagement Philip had not permitted himself so much as a flirtation; he + and Hope were to be married soon; he loved and admired her heartily, and + had an indifference to her want of fortune that was quite amazing, when we + consider that he had a fortune of his own. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE. + </h2> + <p> + OLDPORT AVENUE is a place where a great many carriages may be seen driving + so slowly that they might almost be photographed without halting, and + where their occupants already wear the dismal expression which befits that + process. In these fine vehicles, following each other in an endless file, + one sees such faces as used to be exhibited in ball-rooms during the + performance of quadrilles, before round dances came in,—faces marked + by the renunciation of all human joy. Sometimes a faint suspicion suggests + itself on the Avenue, that these torpid countenances might be roused to + life, in case some horse should run away. But that one chance never + occurs; the riders may not yet be toned down into perfect breeding, but + the horses are. I do not know what could ever break the gloom of this + joyless procession, were it not that youth and beauty are always in + fashion, and one sometimes meets an exceptional barouche full of boys and + girls, who could absolutely be no happier if they were a thousand miles + away from the best society. And such a joyous company were our four youths + and maidens when they went to drive that day, Emilia being left at home to + rest after the fatigues of the voyage. + </p> + <p> + “What beautiful horses!” was Hope’s first exclamation. “What grave + people!” was her second. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “What though in solemn silence all + Roll round—” + </pre> + <p> + quoted Philip. + </p> + <p> + “Hope is thinking,” said Harry, “whether ‘in reason’s ear they all + rejoice.’” + </p> + <p> + “How COULD you know that?” said she, opening her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “One thing always strikes me,” said Kate. “The sentence of stupefaction + does not seem to be enforced till after five-and-twenty. That young lady + we just met looked quite lively and juvenile last year, I remember, and + now she has graduated into a dowager.” + </p> + <p> + “Like little Helen’s kitten,” said Philip. “She justly remarks that, since + I saw it last, it is all spoiled into a great big cat.” + </p> + <p> + “Those must be snobs,” said Harry, as a carriage with unusually gorgeous + liveries rolled by. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Malbone, indifferently. “In Oldport we call all + new-comers snobs, you know, till they have invited us to their grand ball. + Then we go to it, and afterwards speak well of them, and only abuse their + wine.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know them for new-comers?” asked Hope, looking after the + carriage. + </p> + <p> + “By their improperly intelligent expression,” returned Phil. “They look + around them as you do, my child, with the air of wide-awake curiosity + which marks the American traveller. That is out of place here. The Avenue + abhors everything but a vacuum.” + </p> + <p> + “I never can find out,” continued Hope, “how people recognize each other + here. They do not look at each other, unless they know each other: and how + are they to know if they know, unless they look first?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems an embarrassment,” said Malbone. “But it is supposed that + fashion perforates the eyelids and looks through. If you attempt it in any + other way, you are lost. Newly arrived people look about them, and, the + more new wealth they have, the more they gaze. The men are uneasy behind + their recently educated mustaches, and the women hold their parasols with + trembling hands. It takes two years to learn to drive on the Avenue. Come + again next summer, and you will see in those same carriages faces of + remote superciliousness, that suggest generations of gout and ancestors.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pity one feels,” said Harry, “for these people who still suffer + from lingering modesty, and need a master to teach them to be insolent!” + </p> + <p> + “They learn it soon enough,” said Kate. “Philip is right. Fashion lies in + the eye. People fix their own position by the way they don’t look at you.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a certain indifference of manner,” philosophized Malbone, + “before which ingenuous youth is crushed. I may know that a man can hardly + read or write, and that his father was a ragpicker till one day he picked + up bank-notes for a million. No matter. If he does not take the trouble to + look at me, I must look reverentially at him.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is somebody who will look at Hope,” cried Kate, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + A carriage passed, bearing a young lady with fair hair, and a keen, bright + look, talking eagerly to a small and quiet youth beside her. + </p> + <p> + Her face brightened still more as she caught the eye of Hope, whose face + lighted up in return, and who then sank back with a sort of sigh of + relief, as if she had at last seen somebody she cared for. The lady waved + an un-gloved hand, and drove by. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” asked Philip, eagerly. He was used to knowing every one. + </p> + <p> + “Hope’s pet,” said Kate, “and she who pets Hope, Lady Antwerp.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” said Malbone. “That young creature? I fancied her + ladyship in spectacles, with little side curls. Men speak of her with such + dismay.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Kate, “she asks them sensible questions.” + </p> + <p> + “That is bad,” admitted Philip. “Nothing exasperates fashionable Americans + like a really intelligent foreigner. They feel as Sydney Smith says the + English clergy felt about Elizabeth Fry; she disturbs their repose, and + gives rise to distressing comparisons,—they long to burn her alive. + It is not their notion of a countess.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure it was not mine,” said Hope; “I can hardly remember that she is + one; I only know that I like her, she is so simple and intelligent. She + might be a girl from a Normal School.” + </p> + <p> + “It is because you are just that,” said Kate, “that she likes you. She + came here supposing that we had all been at such schools. Then she + complained of us,—us girls in what we call good society, I mean,—because, + as she more than hinted, we did not seem to know anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of the mothers were angry,” said Hope. “But Aunt Jane told her that + it was perfectly true, and that her ladyship had not yet seen the + best-educated girls in America, who were generally the daughters of old + ministers and well-to-do shopkeepers in small New England towns, Aunt Jane + said.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Kate, “she said that the best of those girls went to High + Schools and Normal Schools, and learned things thoroughly, you know; but + that we were only taught at boarding-schools and by governesses, and came + out at eighteen, and what could we know? Then came Hope, who had been at + those schools, and was the child of refined people too, and Lady Antwerp + was perfectly satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “Especially,” said Hope, “when Aunt Jane told her that, after all, schools + did not do very much good, for if people were born stupid they only became + more tiresome by schooling. She said that she had forgotten all she + learned at school except the boundaries of ancient Cappadocia.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane’s fearless sayings always passed current among her nieces; and + they drove on, Hope not being lowered in Philip’s estimation, nor raised + in her own, by being the pet of a passing countess. + </p> + <p> + Who would not be charmed (he thought to himself) by this noble girl, who + walks the earth fresh and strong as a Greek goddess, pure as Diana, + stately as Juno? She belongs to the unspoiled womanhood of another age, + and is wasted among these dolls and butterflies. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her. She sat erect and graceful, unable to droop into the + debility of fashionable reclining,—her breezy hair lifted a little + by the soft wind, her face flushed, her full brown eyes looking eagerly + about, her mouth smiling happily. To be with those she loved best, and to + be driving over the beautiful earth! She was so happy that no mob of + fashionables could have lessened her enjoyment, or made her for a moment + conscious that anybody looked at her. The brilliant equipages which they + met each moment were not wholly uninteresting even to her, for her + affections went forth to some of the riders and to all the horses. She was + as well contented at that moment, on the glittering Avenue, as if they had + all been riding home through country lanes, and in constant peril of being + jolted out among the whortleberry-bushes. + </p> + <p> + Her face brightened yet more as they met a carriage containing a graceful + lady dressed with that exquisiteness of taste that charms both man and + woman, even if no man can analyze and no woman rival its effect. She had a + perfectly high-bred look, and an eye that in an instant would calculate + one’s ancestors as far back as Nebuchadnezzar, and bow to them all + together. She smiled good-naturedly on Hope, and kissed her hand to Kate. + </p> + <p> + “So, Hope,” said Philip, “you are bent on teaching music to Mrs. + Meredith’s children.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I am!” said Hope, eagerly. “O Philip, I shall enjoy it so! I do + not care so very much about her, but she has dear little girls. And you + know I am a born drudge. I have not been working hard enough to enjoy an + entire vacation, but I shall be so very happy here if I can have some real + work for an hour or two every other day.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope,” said Philip, gravely, “look steadily at these people whom we are + meeting, and reflect. Should you like to have them say, ‘There goes Mrs. + Meredith’s music teacher’?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Hope, with surprise. “The children are young, and it is + not very presumptuous. I ought to know enough for that.” + </p> + <p> + Malbone looked at Kate, who smiled with delight, and put her hand on that + of Hope. Indeed, she kept it there so long that one or two passing ladies + stopped their salutations in mid career, and actually looked after them in + amazement at their attitude, as who should say, “What a very mixed + society!” + </p> + <p> + So they drove on,—meeting four-in-hands, and tandems, and + donkey-carts, and a goat-cart, and basket-wagons driven by pretty girls, + with uncomfortable youths in or out of livery behind. They met, had they + but known it, many who were aiming at notoriety, and some who had it; many + who looked contented with their lot, and some who actually were so. They + met some who put on courtesy and grace with their kid gloves, and laid + away those virtues in their glove-boxes afterwards; while to others the + mere consciousness of kid gloves brought uneasiness, redness of the face, + and a general impression of being all made of hands. They met the four + white horses of an ex-harness-maker, and the superb harnesses of an + ex-horse-dealer. Behind these came the gayest and most plebeian equipage + of all, a party of journeymen carpenters returning from their work in a + four-horse wagon. Their only fit compeers were an Italian opera-troupe, + who were chatting and gesticulating on the piazza of the great hotel, and + planning, amid jest and laughter, their future campaigns. Their work + seemed like play, while the play around them seemed like work. Indeed, + most people on the Avenue seemed to be happy in inverse ratio to their + income list. + </p> + <p> + As our youths and maidens passed the hotel, a group of French naval + officers strolled forth, some of whom had a good deal of inexplicable gold + lace dangling in festoons from their shoulders,—“topsail halyards” + the American midshipmen called them. Philip looked hard at one of these + gentlemen. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen that young fellow before,” said he, “or his twin brother. But + who can swear to the personal identity of a Frenchman?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION. + </h2> + <p> + THE next morning had that luminous morning haze, not quite dense enough to + be called a fog, which is often so lovely in Oldport. It was perfectly + still; the tide swelled and swelled till it touched the edge of the green + lawn behind the house, and seemed ready to submerge the slender pier; the + water looked at first like glass, till closer gaze revealed long sinuous + undulations, as if from unseen water-snakes beneath. A few rags of + storm-cloud lay over the half-seen hills beyond the bay, and behind them + came little mutterings of thunder, now here, now there, as if some wild + creature were roaming up and down, dissatisfied, in the shelter of the + clouds. The pale haze extended into the foreground, and half veiled the + schooners that lay at anchor with their sails up. It was sultry, and there + was something in the atmosphere that at once threatened and soothed. + Sometimes a few drops dimpled the water and then ceased; the muttering + creature in the sky moved northward and grew still. It was a day when + every one would be tempted to go out rowing, but when only lovers would + go. Philip and Hope went. + </p> + <p> + Kate and Harry, meanwhile, awaited their opportunity to go in and visit + Aunt Jane. This was a thing that never could be done till near noon, + because that dear lady was very deliberate in her morning habits, and + always averred that she had never seen the sun rise except in a panorama. + She hated to be hurried in dressing, too; for she was accustomed to say + that she must have leisure to understand herself, and this was clearly an + affair of time. + </p> + <p> + But she was never more charming than when, after dressing and breakfasting + in seclusion, and then vigilantly watching her handmaiden through the + necessary dustings and arrangements, she sat at last, with her affairs in + order, to await events. Every day she expected something entirely new to + happen, and was never disappointed. For she herself always happened, if + nothing else did; she could no more repeat herself than the sunrise can; + and the liveliest visitor always carried away something fresher and more + remarkable than he brought. + </p> + <p> + Her book that morning had displeased her, and she was boiling with + indignation against its author. + </p> + <p> + “I am reading a book so dry,” she said, “it makes me cough. No wonder + there was a drought last summer. It was printed then. Worcester’s + Geography seems in my memory as fascinating as Shakespeare, when I look + back upon it from this book. How can a man write such a thing and live?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he lived by writing it,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was the best he could do,” added the more literal Harry. + </p> + <p> + “It certainly was not the best he could do, for he might have died,—died + instead of dried. O, I should like to prick that man with something sharp, + and see if sawdust did not run out of him! Kate, ask the bookseller to let + me know if he ever really dies, and then life may seem fresh again.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody’s memoirs,” said Aunt Jane. “Was there no man left worth writing + about, that they should make a biography about this one? It is like a life + of Napoleon with all the battles left out. They are conceited enough to + put his age in the upper corner of each page too, as if anybody cared how + old he was.” + </p> + <p> + “Such pretty covers!” said Kate. “It is too bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Aunt Jane. “I mean to send them back and have new leaves put + in. These are so wretched, there is not a teakettle in the land so + insignificant that it would boil over them. Don’t let us talk any more + about it. Have Philip and Hope gone out upon the water?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” said Kate. “Did Ruth tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “When did that aimless infant ever tell anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Then how did you know it?” + </p> + <p> + “If I waited for knowledge till that sweet-tempered parrot chose to tell + me,” Aunt Jane went on, “I should be even more foolish than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how did you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I heard the boat hauled down, and of course I knew that none + but lovers would go out just before a thunder-storm. Then you and Harry + came in, and I knew it was the others.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Jane,” said Kate, “you divine everything: what a brain you have!” + </p> + <p> + “Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little girl’s + work-basket,—a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white muslin.” + </p> + <p> + “Now she is fishing for compliments,” said Kate, “and she shall have one. + She was very sweet and good to Philip last night.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Aunt Jane, with a groan. “I waked in the night and + thought about it. I was awake a great deal last night. I have heard cocks + crowing all my life, but I never knew what that creature could accomplish + before. So I lay and thought how good and forgiving I was; it was quite + distressing.” + </p> + <p> + “Remorse?” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought to be + vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I suffer from a + good one.” + </p> + <p> + “It was no merit of yours, aunt,” put in Harry. “Who was ever more + agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Lovable!” burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or manipulated + by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against Harry’s blunt + assertions. “Of course he is lovable, and that is why I dislike him. His + father was so before him. That is the worst of it. I never in my life saw + any harm done by a villain; I wish I could. All the mischief in this world + is done by lovable people. Thank Heaven, nobody ever dared to call me + lovable!” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see any one dare call you anything else,—you dear, + old, soft-hearted darling!” interposed Kate. + </p> + <p> + “But, aunt,” persisted Harry, “if you only knew what the mass of young men + are—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I?” interrupted the impetuous lady. “What is there that is not + known to any woman who has common sense, and eyes enough to look out of a + window?” + </p> + <p> + “If you only knew,” Harry went on, “how superior Phil Malbone is, in his + whole tone, to any fellow of my acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord help the rest!” she answered. “Philip has a sort of refinement + instead of principles, and a heart instead of a conscience,—just + heart enough to keep himself happy and everybody else miserable.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say,” asked the obstinate Hal, “that there is no + difference between refinement and coarseness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, which is best?” + </p> + <p> + “Coarseness is safer by a great deal,” said Aunt Jane, “in the hands of a + man like Philip. What harm can that swearing coachman do, I should like to + know, in the street yonder? To be sure it is very unpleasant, and I wonder + they let people swear so, except, perhaps, in waste places outside the + town; but that is his way of expressing himself, and he only frightens + people, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Which Philip does not,” said Hal. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. That is the danger. He frightens nobody, not even himself, when + he ought to wear a label round his neck marked ‘Dangerous,’ such as they + have at other places where it is slippery and brittle. When he is here, I + keep saying to myself, ‘Too smooth, too smooth!’” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Jane,” said Harry, gravely, “I know Malbone very well, and I never + knew any man whom it was more unjust to call a hypocrite.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say he was a hypocrite?” she cried. “He is worse than that; at + least, more really dangerous. It is these high-strung sentimentalists who + do all the mischief; who play on their own lovely emotions, forsooth, till + they wear out those fine fiddlestrings, and then have nothing left but the + flesh and the D. Don’t tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “Do stop, auntie,” interposed Kate, quite alarmed, “you are really worse + than a coachman. You are growing very profane indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a much harder time than any coachman, Kate,” retorted the injured + lady. “Nobody tries to stop him, and you are always hushing me up.” + </p> + <p> + “Hushing you up, darling?” said Kate. “When we only spoil you by praising + and quoting everything you say.” + </p> + <p> + “Only when it amuses you,” said Aunt Jane. “So long as I sit and cry my + eyes out over a book, you all love me, and when I talk nonsense, you are + ready to encourage it; but when I begin to utter a little sense, you all + want to silence me, or else run out of the room! Yesterday I read about a + newspaper somewhere, called the ‘Daily Evening Voice’; I wish you would + allow me a daily morning voice.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not interfere, Kate,” said Hal. “Aunt Jane and I only wish to + understand each other.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure we don’t,” said Aunt Jane; “I have no desire to understand you, + and you never will understand me till you comprehend Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us agree on one thing,” Harry said. “Surely, aunt, you know how he + loves Hope?” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane approached a degree nearer the equator, and said, gently, “I + fear I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, fear. That is just what troubles me. I know precisely how he loves + her. Il se laisse aimer. Philip likes to be petted, as much as any cat, + and, while he will purr, Hope is happy. Very few men accept idolatry with + any degree of grace, but he unfortunately does.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately?” remonstrated Hal, as far as ever from being satisfied. + “This is really too bad. You never will do him any justice.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah?” said Aunt Jane, chilling again, “I thought I did. I observe he is + very much afraid of me, and there seems to be no other reason.” + </p> + <p> + “The real trouble is,” said Harry, after a pause, “that you doubt his + constancy.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you call constancy?” said she. “Kissing a woman’s picture ten + years after a man has broken her heart? Philip Malbone has that kind of + constancy, and so had his father before him.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much for Harry, who was making for the door in indignation, + when little Ruth came in with Aunt Jane’s luncheon, and that lady was soon + absorbed in the hopeless task of keeping her handmaiden’s pretty blue and + white gingham sleeve out of the butter-plate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. A MULTIVALVE HEART. + </h2> + <p> + PHILIP MALBONE had that perfectly sunny temperament which is peculiarly + captivating among Americans, because it is so rare. He liked everybody and + everybody liked him; he had a thousand ways of affording pleasure, and he + received it in the giving. He had a personal beauty, which, strange to + say, was recognized by both sexes,—for handsome men must often + consent to be mildly hated by their own. He had travelled much, and had + mingled in very varied society; he had a moderate fortune, no vices, no + ambition, and no capacity of ennui. + </p> + <p> + He was fastidious and over-critical, it might be, in his theories, but in + practice he was easily suited and never vexed. + </p> + <p> + He liked travelling, and he liked staying at home; he was so continually + occupied as to give an apparent activity to all his life, and yet he was + never too busy to be interrupted, especially if the intruder were a woman + or a child. He liked to be with people of his own age, whatever their + condition; he also liked old people because they were old, and children + because they were young. In travelling by rail, he would woo crying babies + out of their mothers’ arms, and still them; it was always his back that + Irishwomen thumped, to ask if they must get out at the next station; and + he might be seen handing out decrepit paupers, as if they were of royal + blood and bore concealed sceptres in their old umbrellas. Exquisitely nice + in his personal habits, he had the practical democracy of a good-natured + young prince; he had never yet seen a human being who awed him, nor one + whom he had the slightest wish to awe. His courtesy, had, therefore, that + comprehensiveness which we call republican, though it was really the least + republican thing about him. All felt its attraction; there was really no + one who disliked him, except Aunt Jane; and even she admitted that he was + the only person who knew how to cut her lead-pencil. + </p> + <p> + That cheerful English premier who thought that any man ought to find + happiness enough in walking London streets and looking at the lobsters in + the fish-markets, was not more easily satisfied than Malbone. He liked to + observe the groups of boys fishing at the wharves, or to hear the chat of + their fathers about coral-reefs and penguins’ eggs; or to sketch the + fisher’s little daughter awaiting her father at night on some deserted and + crumbling wharf, his blue pea-jacket over her fair ring-leted head, and a + great cat standing by with tail uplifted, her sole protector. He liked the + luxurious indolence of yachting, and he liked as well to float in his + wherry among the fleet of fishing schooners getting under way after a + three days’ storm, each vessel slipping out in turn from the closely + packed crowd, and spreading its white wings for flight. He liked to watch + the groups of negro boys and girls strolling by the window at evening, and + strumming on the banjo,—the only vestige of tropical life that + haunts our busy Northern zone. But he liked just as well to note the ways + of well-dressed girls and boys at croquet parties, or to sit at the club + window and hear the gossip. He was a jewel of a listener, and was not + easily bored even when Philadelphians talked about families, or New + Yorkers about bargains, or Bostonians about books. A man who has not one + absorbing aim can get a great many miscellaneous things into each + twenty-four hours; and there was not a day in which Philip did not make + himself agreeable and useful to many people, receive many confidences, and + give much good-humored advice about matters of which he knew nothing. His + friends’ children ran after him in the street, and he knew the pet + theories and wines of elderly gentlemen. He said that he won their hearts + by remembering every occurrence in their lives except their birthdays. + </p> + <p> + It was, perhaps, no drawback on the popularity of Philip Malbone that he + had been for some ten years reproached as a systematic flirt by all women + with whom he did not happen at the moment to be flirting. The reproach was + unjust; he had never done anything systematically in his life; it was his + temperament that flirted, not his will. He simply had that most perilous + of all seductive natures, in which the seducer is himself seduced. With a + personal refinement that almost amounted to purity, he was constantly + drifting into loves more profoundly perilous than if they had belonged to + a grosser man. Almost all women loved him, because he loved almost all; he + never had to assume an ardor, for he always felt it. His heart was + multivalve; he could love a dozen at once in various modes and gradations, + press a dozen hands in a day, gaze into a dozen pair of eyes with + unfeigned tenderness; while the last pair wept for him, he was looking + into the next. In truth, he loved to explore those sweet depths; humanity + is the highest thing to investigate, he said, and the proper study of + mankind is woman. Woman needs to be studied while under the influence of + emotion; let us therefore have the emotions. This was the reason he gave + to himself; but this refined Mormonism of the heart was not based on + reason, but on temperament and habit. In such matters logic is only for + the by-standers. + </p> + <p> + His very generosity harmed him, as all our good qualities may harm us when + linked with bad ones; he had so many excuses for doing kindnesses to his + friends, it was hard to quarrel with him if he did them too tenderly. He + was no more capable of unkindness than of constancy; and so strongly did + he fix the allegiance of those who loved him, that the women to whom he + had caused most anguish would still defend him when accused; would have + crossed the continent, if needed, to nurse him in illness, and would have + rained rivers of tears on his grave. To do him justice, he would have done + almost as much for them,—for any of them. He could torture a devoted + heart, but only through a sort of half-wilful unconsciousness; he could + not bear to see tears shed in his presence, nor to let his imagination + dwell very much on those which flowed in his absence. When he had once + loved a woman, or even fancied that he loved her, he built for her a + shrine that was never dismantled, and in which a very little faint incense + would sometimes be found burning for years after; he never quite ceased to + feel a languid thrill at the mention of her name; he would make even for a + past love the most generous sacrifices of time, convenience, truth + perhaps,—everything, in short, but the present love. To those who + had given him all that an undivided heart can give he would deny nothing + but an undivided heart in return. The misfortune was that this was the + only thing they cared to possess. + </p> + <p> + This abundant and spontaneous feeling gave him an air of earnestness, + without which he could not have charmed any woman, and, least of all, one + like Hope. No woman really loves a trifler; she must at least convince + herself that he who trifles with others is serious with her. Philip was + never quite serious and never quite otherwise; he never deliberately got + up a passion, for it was never needful; he simply found an object for his + emotions, opened their valves, and then watched their flow. To love a + charming woman in her presence is no test of genuine passion; let us know + how much you long for her in absence. This longing had never yet seriously + troubled Malbone, provided there was another charming person within an + easy walk. + </p> + <p> + If it was sometimes forced upon him that all this ended in anguish to some + of these various charmers, first or last, then there was always in reserve + the pleasure of repentance. He was very winning and generous in his + repentances, and he enjoyed them so much they were often repeated. He did + not pass for a weak person, and he was not exactly weak; but he spent his + life in putting away temptations with one hand and pulling them back with + the other. There was for him something piquant in being thus neither + innocent nor guilty, but always on some delicious middle ground. He loved + dearly to skate on thin ice,—that was the trouble,—especially + where he fancied the water to be just within his depth. Unluckily the sea + of life deepens rather fast. + </p> + <p> + Malbone had known Hope from her childhood, as he had known her cousins, + but their love dated from their meetings beside the sickbed of his mother, + over whom he had watched with unstinted devotion for weary months. She had + been very fond of the young girl, and her last earthly act was to place + Hope’s hand in Philip’s. Long before this final consecration, Hope had won + his heart more thoroughly, he fancied, than any woman he had ever seen. + The secret of this crowning charm was, perhaps, that she was a new + sensation. He had prided himself on his knowledge of her sex, and yet here + was a wholly new species. He was acquainted with the women of society, and + with the women who only wished to be in society. But here was one who was + in the chrysalis, and had never been a grub, and had no wish to be a + butterfly, and what should he make of her? He was like a student of + insects who had never seen a bee. Never had he known a young girl who + cared for the things which this maiden sought, or who was not dazzled by + things to which Hope seemed perfectly indifferent. She was not a devotee, + she was not a prude; people seemed to amuse and interest her; she liked + them, she declared, as much as she liked books. But this very way of + putting the thing seemed like inverting the accustomed order of affairs in + the polite world, and was of itself a novelty. + </p> + <p> + Of course he had previously taken his turn for a while among Kate’s + admirers; but it was when she was very young, and, moreover, it was hard + to get up anything like a tender and confidential relation with that frank + maiden; she never would have accepted Philip Malbone for herself, and she + was by no means satisfied with his betrothal to her best beloved. But that + Hope loved him ardently there was no doubt, however it might be explained. + Perhaps it was some law of opposites, and she needed some one of lighter + nature than her own. As her resolute purpose charmed him, so she may have + found a certain fascination in the airy way in which he took hold on life; + he was so full of thought and intelligence; possessing infinite leisure, + and yet incapable of ennui; ready to oblige every one, and doing so many + kind acts at so little personal sacrifice; always easy, graceful, lovable, + and kind. In her just indignation at those who called him heartless, she + forgot to notice that his heart was not deep. He was interested in all her + pursuits, could aid her in all her studies, suggest schemes for her + benevolent desires, and could then make others work for her, and even work + himself. People usually loved Philip, even while they criticised him; but + Hope loved him first, and then could not criticise him at all. + </p> + <p> + Nature seems always planning to equalize characters, and to protect our + friends from growing too perfect for our deserts. Love, for instance, is + apt to strengthen the weak, and yet sometimes weakens the strong. Under + its influence Hope sometimes appeared at disadvantage. Had the object of + her love been indifferent, the result might have been otherwise, but her + ample nature apparently needed to contract itself a little, to find room + within Philip’s heart. Not that in his presence she became vain or petty + or jealous; that would have been impossible. She only grew credulous and + absorbed and blind. A kind of gentle obstinacy, too, developed itself in + her nature, and all suggestion of defects in him fell off from her as from + a marble image of Faith. If he said or did anything, there was no appeal; + that was settled, let us pass to something else. + </p> + <p> + I almost blush to admit that Aunt Jane—of whom it could by no means + be asserted that she was a saintly lady, but only a very charming one—rather + rejoiced in this transformation. + </p> + <p> + “I like it better, my dear,” she said, with her usual frankness, to Kate. + “Hope was altogether too heavenly for my style. When she first came here, + I secretly thought I never should care anything about her. She seemed + nothing but a little moral tale. I thought she would not last me five + minutes. But now she is growing quite human and ridiculous about that + Philip, and I think I may find her very attractive indeed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. “SOME LOVER’S CLEAR DAY.” + </h2> + <p> + “HOPE!” said Philip Malbone, as they sailed together in a little boat the + next morning, “I have come back to you from months of bewildered dreaming. + I have been wandering,—no matter where. I need you. You cannot tell + how much I need you.” + </p> + <p> + “I can estimate it,” she answered, gently, “by my need of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Philip, gazing in her trustful face. “Any one whom you + loved would adore you, could he be by your side. You need nothing. It is I + who need you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked, simply. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” he said, “I am capable of behaving very much like a fool. Hope, + I am not worthy of you; why do you love me? why do you trust me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know how I learned to love you,” said Hope. “It is a blessing + that was given to me. But I learned to trust you in your mother’s + sick-room.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Philip, sadly, “there, at least, I did my full duty.” + </p> + <p> + “As few would have done it,” said Hope, firmly,—“very few. Such + prolonged self-sacrifice must strengthen a man for life.” + </p> + <p> + “Not always,” said Philip, uneasily. “Too much of that sort of thing may + hurt one, I fancy, as well as too little. He may come to imagine that the + balance of virtue is in his favor, and that he may grant himself a little + indulgence to make up for lost time. That sort of recoil is a little + dangerous, as I sometimes feel, do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “And you show it,” said Hope, ardently, “by fresh sacrifices! How much + trouble you have taken about Emilia! Some time, when you are willing, you + shall tell me all about it. You always seemed to me a magician, but I did + not think that even you could restore her to sense and wisdom so soon.” + </p> + <p> + Malbone was just then very busy putting the boat about; but when he had it + on the other tack, he said, “How do you like her?” + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” said Hope, her eyes filling with tears, “I wonder if you have + the slightest conception how my heart is fixed on that child. She has + always been a sort of dream to me, and the difficulty of getting any + letters from her has only added to the excitement. Now that she is here, + my whole heart yearns toward her. Yet, when I look into her eyes, a sort + of blank hopelessness comes over me. They seem like the eyes of some + untamable creature whose language I shall never learn. Philip, you are + older and wiser than I, and have shown already that you understand her. + Tell me what I can do to make her love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me how any one could help it?” said Malbone, looking fondly on the + sweet, pleading face before him. + </p> + <p> + “I am beginning to fear that it can be helped,” she said. Her thoughts + were still with Emilia. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it can,” said Phil, “if you sit so far away from people. Here we + are alone on the bay. Come and sit by me, Hope.” + </p> + <p> + She had been sitting amidships, but she came aft at once, and nestled by + him as he sat holding the tiller. She put her face against his knee, like + a tired child, and shut her eyes; her hair was lifted by the summer + breeze; a scent of roses came from her; the mere contact of anything so + fresh and pure was a delight. He put his arm around her, and all the first + ardor of passion came back to him again; he remembered how he had longed + to win this Diana, and how thoroughly she was won. + </p> + <p> + “It is you who do me good,” said she. “O Philip, sail as slowly as you + can.” But he only sailed farther, instead of more slowly, gliding in and + out among the rocky islands in the light north wind, which, for a wonder, + lasted all that day,—dappling the bare hills of the Isle of Shadows + with a shifting beauty. The tide was in and brimming, the fishing-boats + were busy, white gulls soared and clattered round them, and heavy + cormorants flapped away as they neared the rocks. Beneath the boat the + soft multitudinous jellyfishes waved their fringed pendants, or glittered + with tremulous gold along their pink, translucent sides. Long lines and + streaks of paler blue lay smoothly along the enamelled surface, the low, + amethystine hills lay couched beyond them, and little clouds stretched + themselves in lazy length above the beautiful expanse. They reached the + ruined fort at last, and Philip, surrendering Hope to others, was himself + besieged by a joyous group. + </p> + <p> + As you stand upon the crumbling parapet of old Fort Louis, you feel + yourself poised in middle air; the sea-birds soar and swoop around you, + the white surf lashes the rocks far below, the white vessels come and go, + the water is around you on all sides but one, and spreads its pale blue + beauty up the lovely bay, or, in deeper tints, southward towards the + horizon line. I know of no ruin in America which nature has so resumed; it + seems a part of the living rock; you cannot imagine it away. + </p> + <p> + It is a single round, low tower, shaped like the tomb of Cacilia Metella. + But its stately position makes it rank with the vast sisterhood of + wave-washed strongholds; it might be King Arthur’s Cornish Tyntagel; it + might be “the teocallis tower” of Tuloom. As you gaze down from its + height, all things that float upon the ocean seem equalized. Look at the + crowded life on yonder frigate, coming in full-sailed before the steady + sea-breeze. To furl that heavy canvas, a hundred men cluster like bees + upon the yards, yet to us upon this height it is all but a plaything for + the eyes, and we turn with equal interest from that thronged floating + citadel to some lonely boy in his skiff. + </p> + <p> + Yonder there sail to the ocean, beating wearily to windward, a few slow + vessels. Inward come jubilant white schooners, wing-and-wing. There are + fishing-smacks towing their boats behind them like a family of children; + and there are slender yachts that bear only their own light burden. Once + from this height I saw the whole yacht squadron round Point Judith, and + glide in like a flock of land-bound sea-birds; and above them, yet more + snowy and with softer curves, pressed onward the white squadrons of the + sky. + </p> + <p> + Within, the tower is full of debris, now disintegrated into one solid + mass, and covered with vegetation. You can lie on the blossoming clover, + where the bees hum and the crickets chirp around you, and can look through + the arch which frames its own fair picture. In the foreground lies the + steep slope overgrown with bayberry and gay with thistle blooms; then the + little winding cove with its bordering cliffs; and the rough pastures with + their grazing sheep beyond. Or, ascending the parapet, you can look across + the bay to the men making hay picturesquely on far-off lawns, or to the + cannon on the outer works of Fort Adams, looking like vast black insects + that have crawled forth to die. + </p> + <p> + Here our young people spent the day; some sketched, some played croquet, + some bathed in rocky inlets where the kingfisher screamed above them, some + rowed to little craggy isles for wild roses, some fished, and then were + taught by the boatmen to cook their fish in novel island ways. The morning + grew more and more cloudless, and then in the afternoon a fog came and + went again, marching by with its white armies, soon met and annihilated by + a rainbow. + </p> + <p> + The conversation that day was very gay and incoherent,—little + fragments of all manner of things; science, sentiment, everything: “Like a + distracted dictionary,” Kate said. At last this lively maiden got Philip + away from the rest, and began to cross-question him. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she said, “about Emilia’s Swiss lover. She shuddered when she + spoke of him. Was he so very bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” was the answer. “You had false impressions of him. He was a + handsome, manly fellow, a little over-sentimental. He had travelled, and + had been a merchant’s clerk in Paris and London. Then he came back, and + became a boatman on the lake, some said, for love of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Passionately, as she thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he love her much?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did she stop loving him?” + </p> + <p> + “She does not hate him?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Kate, “that is what surprises me. Lovers hate, or those who + have been lovers. She is only indifferent. Philip, she had wound silk upon + a torn piece of his carte-de-visite, and did not know it till I showed it + to her. Even then she did not care.” + </p> + <p> + “Such is woman!” said Philip. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” said Kate. “She had seen somebody whom she loved better, and + she still loves that somebody. Who was it? She had not been introduced + into society. Were there any superior men among her teachers? She is just + the girl to fall in love with her teacher, at least in Europe, where they + are the only men one sees.” + </p> + <p> + “There were some very superior men among them,” said Philip. “Professor + Schirmer has a European reputation; he wears blue spectacles and a maroon + wig.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not talk so,” said Kate. “I tell you, Emilia is not changeable, like + you, sir. She is passionate and constant. She would have married that man + or died for him. You may think that your sage counsels restrained her, but + they did not; it was that she loved some one else. Tell me honestly. Do + you not know that there is somebody in Europe whom she loves to + distraction?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know it,” said Philip. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you do not KNOW it,” returned the questioner. “Do you not think + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no reason to believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “That has nothing to do with it,” said Kate. “Things that we believe + without any reason have a great deal more weight with us. Do you not + believe it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Philip, point-blank. + </p> + <p> + “It is very strange,” mused Kate. “Of course you do not know much about + it. She may have misled you, but I am sure that neither you nor any one + else could have cured her of a passion, especially an unreasonable one, + without putting another in its place. If you did it without that, you are + a magician, as Hope once called you. Philip, I am afraid of you.” + </p> + <p> + “There we sympathize,” said Phil. “I am sometimes afraid of myself, but I + discover within half an hour what a very commonplace land harmless person + I am.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Emilia found herself beside her sister, who was sketching. After + watching Hope for a time in silence, she began to question her. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you have been doing in all these years,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “O, I have been at school,” said Hope. “First I went through the High + School; then I stayed out of school a year, and studied Greek and German + with my uncle, and music with my aunt, who plays uncommonly well. Then I + persuaded them to let me go to the Normal School for two years, and learn + to be a teacher.” + </p> + <p> + “A teacher!” said Emilia, with surprise. “Is it necessary that you should + be a teacher?” + </p> + <p> + “Very necessary,” replied Hope. “I must have something to do, you know, + after I leave school.” + </p> + <p> + “To do?” said the other. “Cannot you go to parties?” + </p> + <p> + “Not all the time,” said her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Emilia, “in the mean time you can go to drive, or make calls, + or stay at home and make pretty little things to wear, as other girls do.” + </p> + <p> + “I can find time for that too, little sister, when I need them. But I love + children, you know, and I like to teach interesting studies. I have + splendid health, and I enjoy it all. I like it as you love dancing, my + child, only I like dancing too, so I have a greater variety of + enjoyments.” + </p> + <p> + “But shall you not sometimes find it very hard?” said Emilia. + </p> + <p> + “That is why I shall like it,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “What a girl you are!” exclaimed the younger sister. “You know everything + and can do everything.” + </p> + <p> + “A very short everything,” interposed Hope. + </p> + <p> + “Kate says,” continued Emilia, “that you speak French as well as I do, and + I dare say you dance a great deal better; and those are the only things I + know.” + </p> + <p> + “If we both had French partners, dear,” replied the elder maiden, “they + would soon find the difference in both respects. My dancing came by + nature, I believe, and I learned French as a child, by talking with my old + uncle, who was half a Parisian. I believe I have a good accent, but I have + so little practice that I have no command of the language compared to + yours. In a week or two we can both try our skill, as there is to be a + ball for the officers of the French corvette yonder,” and Hope pointed to + the heavy spars, the dark canvas, and the high quarter-deck which made the + “Jean Hoche” seem as if she had floated out of the days of Nelson. + </p> + <p> + The calm day waned, the sun drooped to his setting amid a few golden bars + and pencilled lines of light. Ere they were ready for departure, the tide + had ebbed, and, in getting the boats to a practicable landing-place, + Malbone was delayed behind the others. As he at length brought his boat to + the rock, Hope sat upon the ruined fort, far above him, and sang. Her + noble contralto voice echoed among the cliffs down to the smooth water; + the sun went down behind her, and still she sat stately and noble, her + white dress looking more and more spirit-like against the golden sky; and + still the song rang on,— + </p> + <p> + “Never a scornful word should grieve thee, I’d smile on thee, sweet, as + the angels do; Sweet as thy smile on me shone ever, Douglas, Douglas, + tender and true.” + </p> + <p> + All sacredness and sweetness, all that was pure and brave and truthful, + seemed to rest in her. And when the song ceased at his summons, and she + came down to meet him,—glowing, beautiful, appealing, tender,—then + all meaner spells vanished, if such had ever haunted him, and he was hers + alone. + </p> + <p> + Later that evening, after the household had separated, Hope went into the + empty drawing-room for a light. Philip, after a moment’s hesitation, + followed her, and paused in the doorway. She stood, a white-robed figure, + holding the lighted candle; behind her rose the arched alcove, whose + quaint cherubs looked down on her; she seemed to have stepped forth, the + awakened image of a saint. Looking up, she saw his eager glance; then she + colored, trembled, and put the candle down. He came to her, took her hand + and kissed it, then put his hand upon her brow and gazed into her face, + then kissed her lips. She quietly yielded, but her color came and went, + and her lips moved as if to speak. For a moment he saw her only, thought + only of her. + </p> + <p> + Then, even while he gazed into her eyes, a flood of other memories surged + over him, and his own eyes grew dim. His head swam, the lips he had just + kissed appeared to fade away, and something of darker, richer beauty + seemed to burn through those fair features; he looked through those gentle + eyes into orbs more radiant, and it was as if a countenance of eager + passion obliterated that fair head, and spoke with substituted lips, + “Behold your love.” There was a thrill of infinite ecstasy in the work his + imagination did; he gave it rein, then suddenly drew it in and looked at + Hope. Her touch brought pain for an instant, as she laid her hand upon + him, but he bore it. Then some influence of calmness came; there swept by + him a flood of earlier, serener memories; he sat down in the window-seat + beside her, and when she put her face beside his, and her soft hair + touched his cheek, and he inhaled the rose-odor that always clung round + her, every atom of his manhood stood up to drive away the intruding + presence, and he again belonged to her alone. + </p> + <p> + When he went to his chamber that night, he drew from his pocket a little + note in a girlish hand, which he lighted in the candle, and put upon the + open hearth to burn. With what a cruel, tinkling rustle the pages flamed + and twisted and opened, as if the fire read them, and collapsed again as + if in agonizing effort to hold their secret even in death! The closely + folded paper refused to burn, it went out again and again; while each time + Philip Malbone examined it ere relighting, with a sort of vague curiosity, + to see how much passion had already vanished out of existence, and how + much yet survived. For each of these inspections he had to brush aside the + calcined portion of the letter, once so warm and beautiful with love, but + changed to something that seemed to him a semblance of his own heart just + then,—black, trivial, and empty. + </p> + <p> + Then he took from a little folded paper a long tress of dark silken hair, + and, without trusting himself to kiss it, held it firmly in the candle. It + crisped and sparkled, and sent out a pungent odor, then turned and writhed + between his fingers, like a living thing in pain. What part of us has + earthly immortality but our hair? It dies not with death. When all else of + human beauty has decayed beyond corruption into the more agonizing + irrecoverableness of dust, the hair is still fresh and beautiful, defying + annihilation, and restoring to the powerless heart the full association of + the living image. These shrinking hairs, they feared not death, but they + seemed to fear Malbone. Nothing but the hand of man could destroy what he + was destroying; but his hand shrank not, and it was done. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. + </h2> + <p> + AT the celebrated Oldport ball for the French officers, the merit of each + maiden was estimated by the number of foreigners with whom she could talk + at once, for there were more gentlemen than ladies, and not more than half + the ladies spoke French. Here Emilia was in her glory; the ice being once + broken, officers were to her but like so many school-girls, and she + rattled away to the admiral and the fleet captain and two or three + lieutenants at once, while others hovered behind the circle of her + immediate adorers, to pick up the stray shafts of what passed for wit. + Other girls again drove two-in-hand, at the most, in the way of + conversation; while those least gifted could only encounter one small + Frenchman in some safe corner, and converse chiefly by smiles and signs. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, the evening opened gayly. Newly arrived Frenchmen are apt to + be so unused to the familiar society of unmarried girls, that the most + innocent share in it has for them the zest of forbidden fruit, and the + most blameless intercourse seems almost a bonne fortune. Most of these + officers were from the lower ranks of French society, but they all had + that good-breeding which their race wears with such ease, and can + unhappily put off with the same. + </p> + <p> + The admiral and the fleet captain were soon turned over to Hope, who spoke + French as she did English, with quiet grace. She found them agreeable + companions, while Emilia drifted among the elder midshipmen, who were + dazzling in gold lace if not in intellect. Kate fell to the share of a + vehement little surgeon, who danced her out of breath. Harry officiated as + interpreter between the governor of the State and a lively young ensign, + who yearned for the society of dignitaries. The governor was quite aware + that he himself could not speak French; the Frenchman was quite unaware + that he himself could not speak English; but with Harry’s aid they plunged + boldly into conversation. Their talk happened to fall on steam-engines, + English, French, American; their comparative cost, comparative power, + comparative cost per horse power,—until Harry, who was not very + strong upon the steam-engine in his own tongue, and was quite helpless on + that point in any other, got a good deal astray among the numerals, and + implanted some rather wild statistics in the mind of each. The young + Frenchman was far more definite, when requested by the governor to state + in English the precise number of men engaged on board the corvette. With + the accuracy of his nation, he beamingly replied, “Seeshundredtousand.” + </p> + <p> + As is apt to be the case in Oldport, other European nationalities beside + the French were represented, though the most marked foreign accent was of + course to be found among Americans just returned. There were European + diplomatists who spoke English perfectly; there were travellers who spoke + no English at all; and as usual each guest sought to practise himself in + the tongue he knew least. There was the usual eagerness among the + fashionable vulgar to make acquaintance with anything that combined broken + English and a title; and two minutes after a Russian prince had seated + himself comfortably on a sofa beside Kate, he was vehemently tapped on the + shoulder by Mrs. Courtenay Brash with the endearing summons: “Why! Prince, + I didn’t see as you was here. Do you set comfortable where you be? Come + over to this window, and tell all you know!” + </p> + <p> + The prince might have felt that his summons was abrupt, but knew not that + it was ungrammatical, and so was led away in triumph. He had been but a + month or two in this country, and so spoke our language no more correctly + than Mrs. Brash, but only with more grace. There was no great harm in Mrs. + Brash; like most loquacious people, she was kind-hearted, with a tendency + to corpulence and good works. She was also afflicted with a high color, + and a chronic eruption of diamonds. Her husband had an eye for them, + having begun life as a jeweller’s apprentice, and having developed + sufficient sharpness of vision in other directions to become a + millionnaire, and a Congressman, and to let his wife do as she pleased. + </p> + <p> + What goes forth from the lips may vary in dialect, but wine and oysters + speak the universal language. The supper-table brought our party together, + and they compared notes. + </p> + <p> + “Parties are very confusing,” philosophized Hope,—“especially when + waiters and partners dress so much alike. Just now I saw an ill-looking + man elbowing his way up to Mrs. Meredith, and I thought he was bringing + her something on a plate. Instead of that, it was his hand he held out, + and she put hers into it; and I was told that he was one of the leaders of + society. There are very few gentlemen here whom I could positively tell + from the waiters by their faces, and yet Harry says the fast set are not + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Talk of the angels!” said Philip. “There come the Inglesides.” + </p> + <p> + Through the door of the supper-room they saw entering the drawing-room one + of those pretty, fair-haired women who grow older up to twenty-five and + then remain unchanged till sixty. She was dressed in the loveliest pale + blue silk, very low in the neck, and she seemed to smile on all with her + white teeth and her white shoulders. This was Mrs. Ingleside. With her + came her daughter Blanche, a pretty blonde, whose bearing seemed at first + as innocent and pastoral as her name. Her dress was of spotless white, + what there was of it; and her skin was so snowy, you could hardly tell + where the dress ended. Her complexion was exquisite, her eyes of the + softest blue; at twenty-three she did not look more than seventeen; and + yet there was such a contrast between these virginal traits, and the worn, + faithless, hopeless expression, that she looked, as Philip said, like a + depraved lamb. Does it show the higher nature of woman, that, while “fast + young men” are content to look like well-dressed stable boys and + billiard-markers, one may observe that girls of the corresponding type are + apt to addict themselves to white and rosebuds, and pose themselves for + falling angels? + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ingleside was a stray widow (from New Orleans via Paris), into whose + antecedents it was best not to inquire too closely. After many ups and + downs, she was at present up. It was difficult to state with certainty + what bad deed she had ever done, or what good deed. She simply lived by + her wits, and perhaps by some want of that article in her male friends. + Her house was a sort of gentlemanly clubhouse, where the presence of two + women offered a shade less restraint than if there had been men alone. She + was amiable and unscrupulous, went regularly to church, and needed only + money to be the most respectable and fastidious of women. It was always + rather a mystery who paid for her charming little dinners; indeed, several + things in her demeanor were questionable, but as the questions were never + answered, no harm was done, and everybody invited her because everybody + else did. Had she committed some graceful forgery tomorrow, or some mild + murder the next day, nobody would have been surprised, and all her + intimate friends would have said it was what they had always expected. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the entertainment went on. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not have scalloped oysters in heaven,” lamented Kate, as she + finished with healthy appetite her first instalment. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you shall not?” said the sympathetic Hope, who would have + eagerly followed Kate into Paradise with a supply of whatever she liked + best. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will, darling,” responded Kate, “but what will you care? It + seems hard that those who are bad enough to long for them should not be + good enough to earn them.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Blanche Ingleside and her train swept into the supper-room; + the girls cleared a passage, their attendant youths collected chairs. + Blanche tilted hers slightly against a wall, professed utter exhaustion, + and demanded a fresh bottle of champagne in a voice that showed no signs + of weakness. Presently a sheepish youth drew near the noisy circle. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes that Talbot van Alsted,” said Blanche, bursting at last into a + loud whisper. “What a goose he is, to be sure! Dear baby, it promised its + mother it wouldn’t drink wine for two months. Let’s all drink with him. + Talbot, my boy, just in time! Fill your glass. Stosst an!” + </p> + <p> + And Blanche and her attendant spirits in white muslin thronged around the + weak boy, saw him charged with the three glasses that were all his head + could stand, and sent him reeling home to his mother. Then they looked + round for fresh worlds to conquer. + </p> + <p> + “There are the Maxwells!” said Miss Ingleside, without lowering her voice. + “Who is that party in the high-necked dress? Is she the schoolmistress? + Why do they have such people here? Society is getting so common, there is + no bearing it. That Emily who is with her is too good for that slow set. + She’s the school-girl we heard of at Nice, or somewhere; she wanted to + elope with somebody, and Phil Malbone stopped her, worse luck. She will be + for eloping with us, before long.” + </p> + <p> + Emilia colored scarlet, and gave a furtive glance at Hope, half of shame, + half of triumph. Hope looked at Blanche with surprise, made a movement + forward, but was restrained by the crowd, while the noisy damsel broke out + in a different direction. + </p> + <p> + “How fiendishly hot it is here, though! Jones junior, put your elbow + through that window! This champagne is boiling. What a tiresome time we + shall have to-morrow, when the Frenchmen are gone! Ah, Count, there you + are at last! Ready for the German? Come for me? Just primed and up to + anything, and so I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + But as Count Posen, kissing his hand to her, squeezed his way through the + crowd with Hal, to be presented to Hope, there came over Blanche’s young + face such a mingled look of hatred and weariness and chagrin, that even + her unobserving friends saw it, and asked with tender commiseration what + was up. + </p> + <p> + The dancing recommenced. There was the usual array of partners, + distributed by mysterious discrepancies, like soldiers’ uniforms, so that + all the tall drew short, and all the short had tall. There were the timid + couples, who danced with trembling knees and eyes cast over their + shoulders; the feeble couples, who meandered aimlessly and got tangled in + corners; the rash couples, who tore breathlessly through the rooms and + brought up at last against the large white waistcoat of the violon-cello. + There was the professional lady-killer, too supreme and indolent to dance, + but sitting amid an admiring bevy of fair women, where he reared his head + of raven curls, and pulled ceaselessly his black mustache. And there were + certain young girls who, having astonished the community for a month by + the lowness of their dresses, now brought to bear their only remaining + art, and struck everybody dumb by appearing clothed. All these came and + went and came again, and had their day or their night, and danced until + the robust Hope went home exhausted and left her more fragile cousins to + dance on till morning. Indeed, it was no easy thing for them to tear + themselves away; Kate was always in demand; Philip knew everybody, and had + that latest aroma of Paris which the soul of fashion covets; Harry had the + tried endurance which befits brothers and lovers at balls; while Emilia’s + foreign court held out till morning, and one handsome young midshipman, in + special, kept revolving back to her after each long orbit of separation, + like a gold-laced comet. + </p> + <p> + The young people lingered extravagantly late at that ball, for the + corvette was to sail next day, and the girls were willing to make the most + of it. As they came to the outer door, the dawn was inexpressibly + beautiful,—deep rose melting into saffron, beneath a tremulous + morning star. With a sudden impulse, they agreed to walk home, the fresh + air seemed so delicious. Philip and Emilia went first, outstripping the + others. + </p> + <p> + Passing the Jewish cemetery, Kate and Harry paused a moment. The sky was + almost cloudless, the air was full of a thousand scents and songs, the + rose-tints in the sky were deepening, the star paling, while a few vague + clouds went wandering upward, and dreamed themselves away. + </p> + <p> + “There is a grave in that cemetery,” said Kate, gently, “where lovers + should always be sitting. It lies behind that tall monument; I cannot see + it for the blossoming boughs. There were two young cousins who loved each + other from childhood, but were separated, because Jews do not allow such + unions. Neither of them was ever married; and they lived to be very old, + the one in New Orleans, the other at the North. In their last illnesses + each dreamed of walking in the fields with the other, as in their early + days; and the telegraphic despatches that told their deaths crossed each + other on the way. That is his monument, and her grave was made behind it; + there was no room for a stone.” + </p> + <p> + Kate moved a step or two, that she might see the graves. The branches + opened clear. What living lovers had met there, at this strange hour, + above the dust of lovers dead? She saw with amazement, and walked on + quickly that Harry might not also see. + </p> + <p> + It was Emilia who sat beside the grave, her dark hair drooping and + dishevelled, her carnation cheek still brilliant after the night’s + excitement; and he who sat at her feet, grasping her hand in both of his, + while his lips poured out passionate words to which she eagerly listened, + was Philip Malbone. + </p> + <p> + Here, upon the soil of a new nation, lay a spot whose associations seemed + already as old as time could make them,—the last footprint of a + tribe now vanished from this island forever,—the resting-place of a + race whose very funerals would soon be no more. Each April the robins + built their nests around these crumbling stones, each May they reared + their broods, each June the clover blossomed, each July the wild + strawberries grew cool and red; all around was youth and life and ecstasy, + and yet the stones bore inscriptions in an unknown language, and the very + graves seemed dead. + </p> + <p> + And lovelier than all the youth of Nature, little Emilia sat there in the + early light, her girlish existence gliding into that drama of passion + which is older than the buried nations, older than time, than death, than + all things save life and God. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. TALKING IT OVER. + </h2> + <p> + AUNT JANE was eager to hear about the ball, and called everybody into her + breakfast-parlor the next morning. She was still hesitating about her bill + of fare. + </p> + <p> + “I wish somebody would invent a new animal,” she burst forth. “How those + sheep bleated last night! I know it was an expression of shame for + providing such tiresome food.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not be so carnally minded, dear,” said Kate. “You must be very + good and grateful, and not care for your breakfast. Somebody says that + mutton chops with wit are a great deal better than turtle without.” + </p> + <p> + “A very foolish somebody,” pronounced Aunt Jane. “I have had a great deal + of wit in my life, and very little turtle. Dear child, do not excite me + with impossible suggestions. There are dropped eggs, I might have those. + They look so beautifully, if it only were not necessary to eat them. Yes, + I will certainly have dropped eggs. I think Ruth could drop them; she + drops everything else.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little Ruth!” said Kate. “Not yet grown up!” + </p> + <p> + “She will never grow up,” said Aunt Jane, “but she thinks she is a woman; + she even thinks she has a lover. O that in early life I had provided + myself with a pair of twins from some asylum; then I should have had some + one to wait on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps they would have been married too,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “They should never have been married,” retorted Aunt Jane. “They should + have signed a paper at five years old to do no such thing. Yesterday I + told a lady that I was enraged that a servant should presume to have a + heart, and the woman took it seriously and began to argue with me. To + think of living in a town where one person could be so idiotic! Such a + town ought to be extinguished from the universe.” + </p> + <p> + “Auntie!” said Kate, sternly, “you must grow more charitable.” + </p> + <p> + “Must I?” said Aunt Jane; “it will not be at all becoming. I have thought + about it; often have I weighed it in my mind whether to be monotonously + lovely; but I have always thrust it away. It must make life so tedious. It + is too late for me to change,—at least, anything about me but my + countenance, and that changes the wrong way. Yet I feel so young and + fresh; I look in my glass every morning to see if I have not a new face, + but it never comes. I am not what is called well-favored. In fact, I am + not favored at all. Tell me about the party.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I tell?” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what people were there,” said Aunt Jane, “and how they were + dressed; who were the happiest and who the most miserable. I think I would + rather hear about the most miserable,—at least, till I have my + breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “The most miserable person I saw,” said Kate, “was Mrs. Meredith. It was + very amusing to hear her and Hope talk at cross-purposes. You know her + daughter Helen is in Paris, and the mother seemed very sad about her. A + lady was asking if something or other were true; ‘Too true,’ said Mrs. + Meredith; ‘with every opportunity she has had no real success. It was not + the poor child’s fault. She was properly presented; but as yet she has had + no success at all.’ + </p> + <p> + “Hope looked up, full of sympathy. She thought Helen must be some + disappointed school-teacher, and felt an interest in her immediately. + ‘Will there not be another examination?’ she asked. ‘What an odd phrase,’ + said Mrs. Meredith, looking rather disdainfully at Hope. ‘No, I suppose we + must give it up, if that is what you mean. The only remaining chance is in + the skating. I had particular attention paid to Helen’s skating on that + very account. How happy shall I be, if my foresight is rewarded!’ + </p> + <p> + “Hope thought this meant physical education, to be sure, and fancied that + handsome Helen Meredith opening a school for calisthenics in Paris! + Luckily she did not say anything. Then the other lady said, solemnly, ‘My + dear Mrs. Meredith, it is too true. No one can tell how things will turn + out in society. How often do we see girls who were not looked at in + America, and yet have a great success in Paris; then other girls go out + who were here very much admired, and they have no success at all.’ + </p> + <p> + “Hope understood it all then, but she took it very calmly. I was so + indignant, I could hardly help speaking. I wanted to say that it was + outrageous. The idea of American mothers training their children for + exhibition before what everybody calls the most corrupt court in Europe! + Then if they can catch the eye of the Emperor or the Empress by their + faces or their paces, that is called success!” + </p> + <p> + “Good Americans when they die go to Paris,” said Philip, “so says the + oracle. Naughty Americans try it prematurely, and go while they are alive. + Then Paris casts them out, and when they come back, their French disrepute + is their stock in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said the cheerful Hope, “that it is not quite so bad.” Hope + always thought things not so bad. She went on. “I was very dull not to + know what Mrs. Meredith was talking about. Helen Meredith is a + warm-hearted, generous girl, and will not go far wrong, though her mother + is not as wise as she is well-bred. But Kate forgets that the few hundred + people one sees here or at Paris do not represent the nation, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “The most influential part of it,” said Emilia. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure, dear?” said her sister. “I do not think they influence it + half so much as a great many people who are too busy to go to either + place. I always remember those hundred girls at the Normal School, and + that they were not at all like Mrs. Meredith, nor would they care to be + like her, any more than she would wish to be like them.” + </p> + <p> + “They have not had the same advantages,” said Emilia. + </p> + <p> + “Nor the same disadvantages,” said Hope. “Some of them are not so well + bred, and none of them speak French so well, for she speaks exquisitely. + But in all that belongs to real training of the mind, they seem to me + superior, and that is why I think they will have more influence.” + </p> + <p> + “None of them are rich, though, I suppose,” said Emilia, “nor of very nice + families, or they would not be teachers. So they will not be so prominent + in society.” + </p> + <p> + “But they may yet become very prominent in society,” said Hope,—“they + or their pupils or their children. At any rate, it is as certain that the + noblest lives will have most influence in the end, as that two and two + make four.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that certain?” said Philip. “Perhaps there are worlds where two and + two do not make just that desirable amount.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust there are,” said Aunt Jane. “Perhaps I was intended to be born in + one of them, and that is why my housekeeping accounts never add up.” + </p> + <p> + Here hope was called away, and Emilia saucily murmured, “Sour grapes!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it!” cried Kate, indignantly. “Hope might have anything in + society she wishes, if she would only give up some of her own plans, and + let me choose her dresses, and her rich uncles pay for them. Count Posen + told me, only yesterday, that there was not a girl in Oldport with such an + air as hers.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Kate herself?” said Emilia, slyly. + </p> + <p> + “I?” said Kate. “What am I? A silly chit of a thing, with about a dozen + ideas in my head, nearly every one of which was planted there by Hope. I + like the nonsense of the world very well as it is, and without her I + should have cared for nothing else. Count Posen asked me the other day, + which country produced on the whole the most womanly women, France or + America. He is one of the few foreigners who expect a rational answer. So + I told him that I knew very little of Frenchwomen personally, but that I + had read French novels ever since I was born, and there was not a woman + worthy to be compared with Hope in any of them, except Consuelo, and even + she told lies.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not begin upon Hope,” said Aunt Jane. “It is the only subject on which + Kate can be tedious. Tell me about the dresses. Were people over-dressed + or under-dressed?” + </p> + <p> + “Under-dressed,” said Phil. “Miss Ingleside had a half-inch strip of + muslin over her shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + Here Philip followed Hope out of the room, and Emilia presently followed + him. + </p> + <p> + “Tell on!” said Aunt Jane. “How did Philip enjoy himself?” + </p> + <p> + “He is easily amused, you know,” said Kate. “He likes to observe people, + and to shoot folly as it flies.” + </p> + <p> + “It does not fly,” retorted the elder lady. “I wish it did. You can shoot + it sitting, at least where Philip is.” + </p> + <p> + “Auntie,” said Kate, “tell me truly your objection to Philip. I think you + did not like his parents. Had he not a good mother?” + </p> + <p> + “She was good,” said Aunt Jane, reluctantly, “but it was that kind of + goodness which is quite offensive.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you know his father well?” + </p> + <p> + “Know him!” exclaimed Aunt Jane. “I should think I did. I have sat up all + night to hate him.” + </p> + <p> + “That was very wrong,” said Kate, decisively. “You do not mean that. You + only mean that you did not admire him very much.” + </p> + <p> + “I never admired a dozen people in my life, Kate. I once made a list of + them. There were six women, three men, and a Newfoundland dog.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened?” said Kate. “The Is-raelites died after Pharaoh, or + somebody, numbered them. Did anything happen to yours?” + </p> + <p> + “It was worse with mine,” said Aunt Jane. “I grew tired of some and others + I forgot, till at last there was nobody left but the dog, and he died.” + </p> + <p> + “Was Philip’s father one of them?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about him,” said Kate, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” said the elder lady, as her young handmaiden passed the door with + her wonted demureness, “come here; no, get me a glass of water. Kate! I + shall die of that girl. She does some idiotic thing, and then she looks in + here with that contented, beaming look. There is an air of baseless + happiness about her that drives me nearly frantic.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about that,” persisted Kate. “Tell me about Philip’s father. + What was the matter with him?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” Aunt Jane at last answered,—with that fearful moderation + to which she usually resorted when even her stock of superlatives was + exhausted,—“he belonged to a family for whom truth possessed even + less than the usual attractions.” + </p> + <p> + This neat epitaph implied the erection of a final tombstone over the whole + race, and Kate asked no more. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Malbone sat at the western door with Harry, and was running on + with one of his tirades, half jest, half earnest, against American + society. + </p> + <p> + “In America,” he said, “everything which does not tend to money is thought + to be wasted, as our Quaker neighbor thinks the children’s croquet-ground + wasted, because it is not a potato field.” + </p> + <p> + “Not just!” cried Harry. “Nowhere is there more respect for those who give + their lives to intellectual pursuits.” + </p> + <p> + “What are intellectual pursuits?” said Philip. “Editing daily newspapers? + Teaching arithmetic to children? I see no others flourishing hereabouts.” + </p> + <p> + “Science and literature,” answered Harry. + </p> + <p> + “Who cares for literature in America,” said Philip, “after a man rises + three inches above the newspaper level? Nobody reads Thoreau; only an + insignificant fraction read Emerson, or even Hawthorne. The majority of + people have hardly even heard their names. What inducement has a writer? + Nobody has any weight in America who is not in Congress, and nobody gets + into Congress without the necessity of bribing or button-holing men whom + he despises.” + </p> + <p> + “But you do not care for public life?” said Harry. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Malbone, “therefore this does not trouble me, but it troubles + you. I am content. My digestion is good. I can always amuse myself. Why + are you not satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are not,” said Harry. “You are dissatisfied with men, and so + you care chiefly to amuse yourself with women and children.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say,” said Malbone, carelessly. “They are usually less ungraceful + and talk better grammar.” + </p> + <p> + “But American life does not mean grace nor grammar. We are all living for + the future. Rough work now, and the graces by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what we Americans always say,” retorted Philip. “Everything is in + the future. What guaranty have we for that future? I see none. We make no + progress towards the higher arts, except in greater quantities of + mediocrity. We sell larger editions of poor books. Our artists fill larger + frames and travel farther for materials; but a ten-inch canvas would tell + all they have to say.” + </p> + <p> + “The wrong point of view,” said Hal. “If you begin with high art, you + begin at the wrong end. The first essential for any nation is to put the + mass of the people above the reach of want. We are all usefully employed, + if we contribute to that.” + </p> + <p> + “So is the cook usefully employed while preparing dinner,” said Philip. + “Nevertheless, I do not wish to live in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet you always admire your own country,” said Harry, “so long as you are + in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” said Philip. “I do not object to the kitchen at that distance. + And to tell the truth, America looks well from Europe. No culture, no art + seems so noble as this far-off spectacle of a self-governing people. The + enthusiasm lasts till one’s return. Then there seems nothing here but to + work hard and keep out of mischief.” + </p> + <p> + “That is something,” said Harry. + </p> + <p> + “A good deal in America,” said Phil. “We talk about the immorality of + older countries. Did you ever notice that no class of men are so apt to + take to drinking as highly cultivated Americans? It is a very demoralizing + position, when one’s tastes outgrow one’s surroundings. Positively, I + think a man is more excusable for coveting his neighbor’s wife in America + than in Europe, because there is so little else to covet.” + </p> + <p> + “Malbone!” said Hal, “what has got into you? Do you know what things you + are saying?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” was the unconcerned reply. “I am not arguing; I am only + testifying. I know that in Paris, for instance, I myself have no + temptations. Art and history are so delightful, I absolutely do not care + for the society even of women; but here, where there is nothing to do, one + must have some stimulus, and for me, who hate drinking, they are, at + least, a more refined excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “More dangerous,” said Hal. “Infinitely more dangerous, in the morbid way + in which you look at life. What have these sickly fancies to do with the + career that opens to every brave man in a great nation?” + </p> + <p> + “They have everything to do with it, and there are many for whom there is + no career. As the nation develops, it must produce men of high culture. + Now there is no place for them except as bookkeepers or pedagogues or + newspaper reporters. Meantime the incessant unintellectual activity is + only a sublime bore to those who stand aside.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why stand aside?” persisted the downright Harry. + </p> + <p> + “I have no place in it but a lounging-place,” said Malbone. “I do not wish + to chop blocks with a razor. I envy those men, born mere Americans, with + no ambition in life but to ‘swing a railroad’ as they say at the West. + Every morning I hope to wake up like them in the fear of God and the love + of money.” + </p> + <p> + “You may as well stop,” said Harry, coloring a little. “Malbone, you used + to be my ideal man in my boyhood, but”— + </p> + <p> + “I am glad we have got beyond that,” interrupted the other, cheerily, “I + am only an idler in the land. Meanwhile, I have my little interests,—read, + write, sketch—” + </p> + <p> + “Flirt?” put in Hal, with growing displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “Not now,” said Phil, patting his shoulder, with imperturbable + good-nature. “Our beloved has cured me of that. He who has won the pearl + dives no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not let us speak of Hope,” said Harry. “Everything that you have been + asserting Hope’s daily life disproves.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” answered Malbone, heartily. “But, Hal, I never flirted; I + always despised it. It was always a grande passion with me, or what I took + for such. I loved to be loved, I suppose; and there was always something + new and fascinating to be explored in a human heart, that is, a woman’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Some new temple to profane?” asked Hal severely. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said Philip. “I never profaned it. If I deceived, I shared the + deception, at least for a time; and, as for sensuality, I had none in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you have nothing worse? Rousseau ends where Tom Jones begins.” + </p> + <p> + “My temperament saved me,” said Philip. “A woman is not a woman to me, + without personal refinement.” + </p> + <p> + “Just what Rousseau said,” replied Harry. + </p> + <p> + “I acted upon it,” answered Malbone. “No one dislikes Blanche Ingleside + and her demi monde more than I.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought not,” was the retort. “You help to bring other girls to her + level.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom?” said Malbone, startled. + </p> + <p> + “Emilia.” + </p> + <p> + “Emilia?” repeated the other, coloring crimson. “I, who have warned her + against Blanche’s society.” + </p> + <p> + “And have left her no other resource,” said Harry, coloring still more. + “Malbone, you have gained (unconsciously of course) too much power over + that girl, and the only effect of it is, to keep her in perpetual + excitement. So she seeks Blanche, as she would any other strong stimulant. + Hope does not seem to have discovered this, but Kate has, and I have.” + </p> + <p> + Hope came in, and Harry went out. The next day he came to Philip and + apologized most warmly for his unjust and inconsiderate words. Malbone, + always generous, bade him think no more about it, and Harry for that day + reverted strongly to his first faith. “So noble, so high-toned,” he said + to Kate. Indeed, a man never appears more magnanimous than in forgiving a + friend who has told him the truth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. DANGEROUS WAYS. + </h2> + <p> + IT was true enough what Harry had said. Philip Malbone’s was that perilous + Rousseau-like temperament, neither sincere enough for safety, nor false + enough to alarm; the winning tenderness that thrills and softens at the + mere neighborhood of a woman, and fascinates by its reality those whom no + hypocrisy can deceive. It was a nature half amiable, half voluptuous, that + disarmed others, seeming itself unarmed. He was never wholly ennobled by + passion, for it never touched him deeply enough; and, on the other hand, + he was not hardened by the habitual attitude of passion, for he was never + really insincere. Sometimes it seemed as if nothing stood between him and + utter profligacy but a little indolence, a little kindness, and a good + deal of caution. + </p> + <p> + “There seems no such thing as serious repentance in me,” he had once said + to Kate, two years before, when she had upbraided him with some desperate + flirtation which had looked as if he would carry it as far as gentlemen + did under King Charles II. “How does remorse begin?” + </p> + <p> + “Where you are beginning,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “I do not perceive that,” he answered. “My conscience seems, after all, to + be only a form of good-nature. I like to be stirred by emotion, I suppose, + and I like to study character. But I can always stop when it is evident + that I shall cause pain to somebody. Is there any other motive?” + </p> + <p> + “In other words,” said she, “you apply the match, and then turn your back + on the burning house.” + </p> + <p> + Philip colored. “How unjust you are! Of course, we all like to play with + fire, but I always put it out before it can spread. Do you think I have no + feeling?” + </p> + <p> + Kate stopped there, I suppose. Even she always stopped soon, if she + undertook to interfere with Malbone. This charming Alcibiades always + convinced them, after the wrestling was over, that he had not been thrown. + </p> + <p> + The only exception to this was in the case of Aunt Jane. If she had + anything in common with Philip,—and there was a certain element of + ingenuous unconsciousness in which they were not so far unlike,—it + only placed them in the more complete antagonism. Perhaps if two beings + were in absolutely no respect alike, they never could meet even for + purposes of hostility; there must be some common ground from which the + aversion may proceed. Moreover, in this case Aunt Jane utterly disbelieved + in Malbone because she had reason to disbelieve in his father, and the + better she knew the son the more she disliked the father retrospectively. + </p> + <p> + Philip was apt to be very heedless of such aversions,—indeed, he had + few to heed,—but it was apparent that Aunt Jane was the only person + with whom he was not quite at ease. Still, the solicitude did not trouble + him very much, for he instinctively knew that it was not his particular + actions which vexed her, so much as his very temperament and atmosphere,—things + not to be changed. So he usually went his way; and if he sometimes felt + one of her sharp retorts, could laugh it off that day and sleep it off + before the next morning. + </p> + <p> + For you may be sure that Philip was very little troubled by inconvenient + memories. He never had to affect forgetfulness of anything. The past slid + from him so easily, he forgot even to try to forget. He liked to quote + from Emerson, “What have I to do with repentance?” “What have my + yesterday’s errors,” he would say, “to do with the life of to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything,” interrupted Aunt Jane, “for you will repeat them to-day, if + you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” persisted he, accepting as conversation what she meant as a + stab. “I may, indeed, commit greater errors,”—here she grimly + nodded, as if she had no doubt of it,—“but never just the same. + To-day must take thought for itself.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it would,” she said, gently, and then went on with her own + thoughts while he was silent. Presently she broke out again in her + impulsive way. + </p> + <p> + “Depend upon it,” she said, “there is very little direct retribution in + this world.” + </p> + <p> + Phil looked up, quite pleased at her indorsing one of his favorite views. + She looked, as she always did, indignant at having said anything to please + him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she, “it is the indirect retribution that crushes. I’ve seen + enough of that, God knows. Kate, give me my thimble.” + </p> + <p> + Malbone had that smooth elasticity of surface which made even Aunt Jane’s + strong fingers slip from him as they might from a fish, or from the soft, + gelatinous stem of the water-target. Even in this case he only laughed + good-naturedly, and went out, whistling like a mocking-bird, to call the + children round him. + </p> + <p> + Toward the more wayward and impulsive Emilia the good lady was far more + merciful. With all Aunt Jane’s formidable keenness, she was a little apt + to be disarmed by youth and beauty, and had no very stern retributions + except for those past middle age. Emilia especially charmed her while she + repelled. There was no getting beyond a certain point with this strange + girl, any more than with Philip; but her depths tantalized, while his + apparent shallows were only vexatious. Emilia was usually sweet, winning, + cordial, and seemed ready to glide into one’s heart as softly as she + glided into the room; she liked to please, and found it very easy. Yet she + left the impression that this smooth and delicate loveliness went but an + inch beyond the surface, like the soft, thin foam that enamels yonder + tract of ocean, belongs to it, is a part of it, yet is, after all, but a + bequest of tempests, and covers only a dark abyss of crossing currents and + desolate tangles of rootless kelp. Everybody was drawn to her, yet not a + soul took any comfort in her. Her very voice had in it a despairing + sweetness, that seemed far in advance of her actual history; it was an + anticipated miserere, a perpetual dirge, where nothing had yet gone down. + So Aunt Jane, who was wont to be perfectly decisive in her treatment of + every human being, was fluctuating and inconsistent with Emilia. She could + not help being fascinated by the motherless child, and yet scorned herself + for even the doubting love she gave. + </p> + <p> + “Only think, auntie,” said Kate, “how you kissed Emilia, yesterday!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did,” she remorsefully owned. “I have kissed her a great many + times too often. I never will kiss her again. There is nothing but sorrow + to be found in loving her, and her heart is no larger than her feet. Today + she was not even pretty! If it were not for her voice, I think I should + never wish to see her again.” + </p> + <p> + But when that soft, pleading voice came once more, and Emilia asked + perhaps for luncheon, in tones fit for Ophelia, Aunt Jane instantly + yielded. One might as well have tried to enforce indignation against the + Babes in the Wood. + </p> + <p> + This perpetual mute appeal was further strengthened by a peculiar physical + habit in Emilia, which first alarmed the household, but soon ceased to + inspire terror. She fainted very easily, and had attacks at long intervals + akin to faintness, and lasting for several hours. The physicians + pronounced them cataleptic in their nature, saying that they brought no + danger, and that she would certainly outgrow them. They were sometimes + produced by fatigue, sometimes by excitement, but they brought no + agitation with them, nor any development of abnormal powers. They simply + wrapped her in a profound repose, from which no effort could rouse her, + till the trance passed by. Her eyes gradually closed, her voice died away, + and all movement ceased, save that her eyelids sometimes trembled without + opening, and sweet evanescent expressions chased each other across her + face,—the shadows of thoughts unseen. For a time she seemed to + distinguish the touch of different persons by preference or pain; but soon + even this sign of recognition vanished, and the household could only wait + and watch, while she sank into deeper and yet deeper repose. + </p> + <p> + There was something inexpressibly sweet, appealing, and touching in this + impenetrable slumber, when it was at its deepest. She looked so young, so + delicate, so lovely; it was as if she had entered into a shrine, and some + sacred curtain had been dropped to shield her from all the cares and + perplexities of life. She lived, she breathed, and yet all the storms of + life could but beat against her powerless, as the waves beat on the shore. + Safe in this beautiful semblance of death,—her pulse a little + accelerated, her rich color only softened, her eyelids drooping, her + exquisite mouth curved into the sweetness it had lacked in waking,—she + lay unconscious and supreme, the temporary monarch of the household, + entranced upon her throne. A few hours having passed, she suddenly waked, + and was a self-willed, passionate girl once more. When she spoke, it was + with a voice wholly natural; she had no recollection of what had happened, + and no curiosity to learn. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. REMONSTRANCES. + </h2> + <p> + IT had been a lovely summer day, with a tinge of autumnal coolness toward + nightfall, ending in what Aunt Jane called a “quince-jelly sunset.” Kate + and Emilia sat upon the Blue Rocks, earnestly talking. + </p> + <p> + “Promise, Emilia!” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + Emilia said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Remember,” continued Kate, “he is Hope’s betrothed. Promise, promise, + promise!” + </p> + <p> + Emilia looked into Kate’s face and saw it flushed with a generous + eagerness, that called forth an answering look in her. She tried to speak, + and the words died into silence. There was a pause, while each watched the + other. + </p> + <p> + When one soul is grappling with another for life, such silence may last an + instant too long; and Kate soon felt her grasp slipping. Momentarily the + spell relaxed. Other thoughts swelled up, and Emilia’s eyes began to + wander; delicious memories stole in, of walks through blossoming paths + with Malbone,—of lingering steps, half-stifled words and sentences + left unfinished;—then, alas! of passionate caresses,—other + blossoming paths that only showed the way to sin, but had never quite led + her there, she fancied. There was so much to tell, more than could ever be + explained or justified. Moment by moment, farther and farther strayed the + wandering thoughts, and when the poor child looked in Kate’s face again, + the mist between them seemed to have grown wide and dense, as if neither + eyes nor words nor hands could ever meet again. When she spoke it was to + say something evasive and unimportant, and her voice was as one from the + grave. + </p> + <p> + In truth, Philip had given Emilia his heart to play with at Neuchatel, + that he might beguile her from an attachment they had all regretted. The + device succeeded. The toy once in her hand, the passionate girl had kept + it, had clung to him with all her might; he could not shake her off. Nor + was this the worst, for to his dismay he found himself responding to her + love with a self-abandonment of ardor for which all former loves had been + but a cool preparation. He had not intended this; it seemed hardly his + fault: his intentions had been good, or at least not bad. This piquant and + wonderful fruit of nature, this girlish soul, he had merely touched it and + it was his. Its mere fragrance was intoxicating. Good God! what should he + do with it? + </p> + <p> + No clear answer coming, he had drifted on with that terrible facility for + which years of self-indulged emotion had prepared him. Each step, while it + was intended to be the last, only made some other last step needful. + </p> + <p> + He had begun wrong, for he had concealed his engagement, fancying that he + could secure a stronger influence over this young girl without the + knowledge. He had come to her simply as a friend of her Transatlantic + kindred; and she, who was always rather indifferent to them, asked no + questions, nor made the discovery till too late. Then, indeed, she had + burst upon him with an impetuous despair that had alarmed him. He feared, + not that she would do herself any violence, for she had a childish dread + of death, but that she would show some desperate animosity toward Hope, + whenever they should meet. After a long struggle, he had touched, not her + sense of justice, for she had none, but her love for him; he had aroused + her tenderness and her pride. + </p> + <p> + Without his actual assurance, she yet believed that he would release + himself in some way from his betrothal, and love only her. + </p> + <p> + Malbone had fortunately great control over Emilia when near her, and could + thus keep the sight of this stormy passion from the pure and unconscious + Hope. But a new distress opened before him, from the time when he again + touched Hope’s hand. The close intercourse of the voyage had given him for + the time almost a surfeit of the hot-house atmosphere of Emilia’s love. + The first contact of Hope’s cool, smooth fingers, the soft light of her + clear eyes, the breezy grace of her motions, the rose-odors that clung + around her, brought back all his early passion. Apart from this + voluptuousness of the heart into which he had fallen, Malbone’s was a + simple and unspoiled nature; he had no vices, and had always won + popularity too easily to be obliged to stoop for it; so all that was + noblest in him paid allegiance to Hope. From the moment they again met, + his wayward heart reverted to her. He had been in a dream, he said to + himself; he would conquer it and be only hers; he would go away with her + into the forests and green fields she loved, or he would share in the life + of usefulness for which she yearned. But then, what was he to do with this + little waif from the heart’s tropics,—once tampered with, in an hour + of mad dalliance, and now adhering in-separably to his life? Supposing him + ready to separate from her, could she be detached from him? + </p> + <p> + Kate’s anxieties, when she at last hinted them to Malbone, only sent him + further into revery. “How is it,” he asked himself, “that when I only + sought to love and be loved, I have thus entangled myself in the fate of + others? How is one’s heart to be governed? Is there any such governing? + Mlle. Clairon complained that, so soon as she became seriously attached to + any one, she was sure to meet somebody else whom she liked better. Have + human hearts,” he said, “or at least, has my heart, no more stability than + this?” + </p> + <p> + It did not help the matter when Emilia went to stay awhile with Mrs. + Meredith. The event came about in this way. Hope and Kate had been to a + dinner-party, and were as usual reciting their experiences to Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Was it pleasant?” said that sympathetic lady. + </p> + <p> + “It was one of those dreadfully dark dining-rooms,” said Hope, seating + herself at the open window. + </p> + <p> + “Why do they make them look so like tombs?” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said her aunt, “most Americans pass from them to the tomb, + after eating such indigestible things. There is a wish for a gentle + transition.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Jane,” said Hope, “Mrs. Meredith asks to have a little visit from + Emilia. Do you think she had better go?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Meredith?” asked Aunt Jane. “Is that woman alive yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, auntie!” said Kate. “We were talking about her only a week ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so,” conceded Aunt Jane, reluctantly. “But it seems to me she has + great length of days!” + </p> + <p> + “How very improperly you are talking, dear!” said Kate. “She is not more + than forty, and you are—” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty-four,” interrupted the other. + </p> + <p> + “Then she has not seen nearly so many days as you.” + </p> + <p> + “But they are such long days! That is what I must have meant. One of her + days is as long as three of mine. She is so tiresome!” + </p> + <p> + “She does not tire you very often,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “She comes once a year,” said Aunt Jane. “And then it is not to see me. + She comes out of respect to the memory of my great-aunt, with whom + Talleyrand fell in love, when he was in America, before Mrs. Meredith was + born. Yes, Emilia may as well go.” + </p> + <p> + So Emilia went. To provide her with companionship, Mrs. Meredith kindly + had Blanche Ingleside to stay there also. Blanche stayed at different + houses a good deal. To do her justice, she was very good company, when put + upon her best behavior, and beyond the reach of her demure mamma. She was + always in spirits, often good-natured, and kept everything in lively + motion, you may be sure. She found it not unpleasant, in rich houses, to + escape some of those little domestic parsimonies which the world saw not + in her own; and to secure this felicity she could sometimes lay great + restraints upon herself, for as much as twenty-four hours. She seemed a + little out of place, certainly, amid the precise proprieties of Mrs. + Meredith’s establishment. But Blanche and her mother still held their + place in society, and it was nothing to Mrs. Meredith who came to her + doors, but only from what other doors they came. + </p> + <p> + She would have liked to see all “the best houses” connected by secret + galleries or underground passages, of which she and a few others should + hold the keys. A guest properly presented could then go the rounds of all + unerringly, leaving his card at each, while improper acquaintances in vain + howled for admission at the outer wall. For the rest, her ideal of social + happiness was a series of perfectly ordered entertainments, at each of + which there should be precisely the same guests, the same topics, the same + supper, and the same ennui. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI. + </h2> + <p> + MALBONE stood one morning on the pier behind the house. A two days’ fog + was dispersing. The southwest breeze rippled the deep blue water; + sailboats, blue, red, and green, were darting about like white-winged + butterflies; sloops passed and repassed, cutting the air with the white + and slender points of their gaff-topsails. The liberated sunbeams spread + and penetrated everywhere, and even came up to play (reflected from the + water) beneath the shadowy, overhanging counters of dark vessels. Beyond, + the atmosphere was still busy in rolling away its vapors, brushing the + last gray fringes from the low hills, and leaving over them only the + thinnest aerial veil. Farther down the bay, the pale tower of the + crumbling fort was now shrouded, now revealed, then hung with floating + lines of vapor as with banners. + </p> + <p> + Hope came down on the pier to Malbone, who was looking at the boats. He + saw with surprise that her calm brow was a little clouded, her lips + compressed, and her eyes full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” she said, abruptly, “do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you doubt it?” said he, smiling, a little uneasily. + </p> + <p> + Fixing her eyes upon him, she said, more seriously: “There is a more + important question, Philip. Tell me truly, do you care about Emilia?” + </p> + <p> + He started at the words, and looked eagerly in her face for an + explanation. Her expression only showed the most anxious solicitude. + </p> + <p> + For one moment the wild impulse came up in his mind to put an entire trust + in this truthful woman, and tell her all. Then the habit of concealment + came back to him, the dull hopelessness of a divided duty, and the + impossibility of explanations. How could he justify himself to her when he + did not really know himself? So he merely said, “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “She is your sister,” he added, in an explanatory tone, after a pause; and + despised himself for the subterfuge. It is amazing how long a man may be + false in action before he ceases to shrink from being false in words. + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” said the unsuspecting Hope, “I knew that you cared about her. I + have seen you look at her with so much affection; and then again I have + seen you look cold and almost stern. She notices it, I am sure she does, + this changeableness. But this is not why I ask the question. I think you + must have seen something else that I have been observing, and if you care + about her, even for my sake, it is enough.” + </p> + <p> + Here Philip started, and felt relieved. + </p> + <p> + “You must be her friend,” continued Hope, eagerly. “She has changed her + whole manner and habits very fast. Blanche Ingleside and that set seem to + have wholly controlled her, and there is something reckless in all her + ways. You are the only person who can help her.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know how,” said Hope, almost impatiently. “You know how. You + have wonderful influence. You saved her before, and will do it again. I + put her in your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for her?” asked he, with a strange mingling of terror and + delight. + </p> + <p> + “Everything,” said she. “If she has your society, she will not care for + those people, so much her inferiors in character. Devote yourself to her + for a time.” + </p> + <p> + “And leave you?” said Philip, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Anything, anything,” said she. “If I do not see you for a month, I can + bear it. Only promise me two things. First, that you will go to her this + very day. She dines with Mrs. Ingleside.” + </p> + <p> + Philip agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Hope, with saddened tones, “you must not say it was I who + sent you. Indeed you must not. That would spoil all. Let her think that + your own impulse leads you, and then she will yield. I know Emilia enough + for that.” + </p> + <p> + Malbone paused, half in ecstasy, half in dismay. Were all the events of + life combining to ruin or to save him? This young girl, whom he so + passionately loved, was she to be thrust back into his arms, and was he to + be told to clasp her and be silent? And that by Hope, and in the name of + duty? + </p> + <p> + It seemed a strange position, even for him who was so eager for fresh + experiences and difficult combinations. At Hope’s appeal he was to risk + Hope’s peace forever; he was to make her sweet sisterly affection its own + executioner. In obedience to her love he must revive Emilia’s. The tender + intercourse which he had been trying to renounce as a crime must be + rebaptized as a duty. Was ever a man placed, he thought, in a position so + inextricable, so disastrous? What could he offer Emilia? How could he + explain to her his position? He could not even tell her that it was at + Hope’s command he sought her. + </p> + <p> + He who is summoned to rescue a drowning man, knowing that he himself may + go down with that inevitable clutch around his neck, is placed in some + such situation as Philip’s. Yet Hope had appealed to him so simply, had + trusted him so nobly! Suppose that, by any self-control, or wisdom, or + unexpected aid of Heaven, he could serve both her and Emilia, was it not + his duty? What if it should prove that he was right in loving them both, + and had only erred when he cursed himself for tampering with their + destinies? Perhaps, after all, the Divine Love had been guiding him, and + at some appointed signal all these complications were to be cleared, and + he and his various loves were somehow to be ingeniously provided for, and + all be made happy ever after. + </p> + <p> + He really grew quite tender and devout over these meditations. Phil was + not a conceited fellow, by any means, but he had been so often told by + women that their love for him had been a blessing to their souls, that he + quite acquiesced in being a providential agent in that particular + direction. Considered as a form of self-sacrifice, it was not without its + pleasures. + </p> + <p> + Malbone drove that afternoon to Mrs. Ingleside’s charming abode, whither a + few ladies were wont to resort, and a great many gentlemen. He timed his + call between the hours of dining and driving, and made sure that Emilia + had not yet emerged. Two or three equipages beside his own were in waiting + at the gate, and gay voices resounded from the house. A servant received + him at the door, and taking him for a tardy guest, ushered him at once + into the dining-room. He was indifferent to this, for he had been too + often sought as a guest by Mrs. Ingleside to stand on any ceremony beneath + her roof. + </p> + <p> + That fair hostess, in all the beauty of her shoulders, rose to greet him, + from a table where six or eight guests yet lingered over flowers and wine. + The gentlemen were smoking, and some of the ladies were trying to look at + ease with cigarettes. Malbone knew the whole company, and greeted them + with his accustomed ease. He would not have been embarrassed if they had + been the Forty Thieves. Some of them, indeed, were not so far removed from + that fabled band, only it was their fortunes, instead of themselves, that + lay in the jars of oil. + </p> + <p> + “You find us all here,” said Mrs. Ingleside, sweetly. “We will wait till + the gentlemen finish their cigars, before driving.” + </p> + <p> + “Count me in, please,” said Blanche, in her usual vein of frankness. + “Unless mamma wishes me to conclude my weed on the Avenue. It would be + fun, though. Fancy the dismay of the Frenchmen and the dowagers!” + </p> + <p> + “And old Lambert,” said one of the other girls, delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Blanche. “The elderly party from the rural districts, who + talks to us about the domestic virtues of the wife of his youth.” + </p> + <p> + “Thinks women should cruise with a broom at their mast-heads, like Admiral + somebody in England,” said another damsel, who was rolling a cigarette for + a midshipman. + </p> + <p> + “You see we do not follow the English style,” said the smooth hostess to + Philip. “Ladies retiring after dinner! After all, it is a coarse practice. + You agree with me, Mr. Malbone?” + </p> + <p> + “Speak your mind,” said Blanche, coolly. “Don’t say yes if you’d rather + not. Because we find a thing a bore, you’ve no call to say so.” + </p> + <p> + “I always say,” continued the matron, “that the presence of woman is + needed as a refining influence.” + </p> + <p> + Malbone looked round for the refining influences. Blanche was tilted back + in her chair, with one foot on the rung of the chair before her, resuming + a loud-toned discourse with Count Posen as to his projected work on + American society. She was trying to extort a promise that she should + appear in its pages, which, as we all remember, she did. One of her + attendant nymphs sat leaning her elbows on the table, “talking horse” with + a gentleman who had an undoubted professional claim to a knowledge of that + commodity. Another, having finished her manufactured cigarette, was making + the grinning midshipman open his lips wider and wider to receive it. Mrs. + Ingleside was talking in her mincing way with a Jew broker, whose English + was as imperfect as his morals, and who needed nothing to make him a + millionnaire but a turn of bad luck for somebody else. Half the men in the + room would have felt quite ill at ease in any circle of refined women, but + there was not one who did not feel perfectly unembarrassed around Mrs. + Ingleside’s board. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word,” thought Malbone, “I never fancied the English after-dinner + practice, any more than did Napoleon. But if this goes on, it is the + gentlemen who ought to withdraw. Cannot somebody lead the way to the + drawing-room, and leave the ladies to finish their cigars?” + </p> + <p> + Till now he had hardly dared to look at Emilia. He saw with a thrill of + love that she was the one person in the room who appeared out of place or + ill at ease. She did not glance at him, but held her cigarette in silence + and refused to light it. She had boasted to him once of having learned to + smoke at school. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter, Emmy?” suddenly exclaimed Blanche. “Are you under a + cloud, that you don’t blow one?” + </p> + <p> + “Blanche, Blanche,” said her mother, in sweet reproof. “Mr. Malbone, what + shall I do with this wild girl? Such a light way of talking! But I can + assure you that she is really very fond of the society of intellectual, + superior men. I often tell her that they are, after all, her most + congenial associates. More so than the young and giddy.” + </p> + <p> + “You’d better believe it,” said the unabashed damsel. “Take notice that + whenever I go to a dinner-party I look round for a clergyman to drink wine + with.” + </p> + <p> + “Incorrigible!” said the caressing mother. “Mr. Malbone would hardly + imagine you had been bred in a Christian land.” + </p> + <p> + “I have, though,” retorted Blanche. “My esteemed parent always accustomed + me to give up something during Lent,—champagne, or the New York + Herald, or something.” + </p> + <p> + The young men roared, and, had time and cosmetics made it possible, Mrs. + Ingleside would have blushed becomingly. After all, the daughter was the + better of the two. Her bluntness was refreshing beside the mother’s + suavity; she had a certain generosity, too, and in a case of real + destitution would have lent her best ear-rings to a friend. + </p> + <p> + By this time Malbone had edged himself to Emilia’s side. “Will you drive + with me?” he murmured in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + She nodded slightly, abruptly, and he withdrew again. + </p> + <p> + “It seems barbarous,” said he aloud, “to break up the party. But I must + claim my promised drive with Miss Emilia.” + </p> + <p> + Blanche looked up, for once amazed, having heard a different programme + arranged. Count Posen looked up also. But he thought he must have + misunderstood Emilia’s acceptance of his previous offer to drive her; and + as he prided himself even more on his English than on his gallantry, he + said no more. It was no great matter. Young Jones’s dog-cart was at the + door, and always opened eagerly its arms to anybody with a title. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT. + </h2> + <p> + TEN days later Philip came into Aunt Jane’s parlor, looking excited and + gloomy, with a letter in his hand. He put it down on her table without its + envelope,—a thing that always particularly annoyed her. A letter + without its envelope, she was wont to say, was like a man without a face, + or a key without a string,—something incomplete, preposterous. As + usual, however, he strode across her prejudices, and said, “I have + something to tell you. It is a fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” said Aunt Jane, curtly. “That is refreshing in these times.” + </p> + <p> + “A good beginning,” said Kate. “Go on. You have prepared us for something + incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “You will think it so,” said Malbone. “Emilia is engaged to Mr. John + Lambert.” And he went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens!” said Aunt Jane, taking off her spectacles. “What a man! He + is ugly enough to frighten the neighboring crows. His face looks as if it + had fallen together out of chaos, and the features had come where it had + pleased Fate. There is a look of industrious nothingness about him, such + as busy dogs have. I know the whole family. They used to bake our bread.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they are good and sensible,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Like boiled potatoes, my dear,” was the response,—“wholesome but + perfectly uninteresting.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he of that sort?” asked Kate. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said her aunt; “not uninteresting, but ungracious. But I like an + ungracious man better than one like Philip, who hangs over young girls + like a soft-hearted avalanche. This Lambert will govern Emilia, which is + what she needs.” + </p> + <p> + “She will never love him,” said Kate, “which is the one thing she needs. + There is nothing that could not be done with Emilia by any person with + whom she was in love; and nothing can ever be done with her by anybody + else. No good will ever come of this, and I hope she will never marry + him.” + </p> + <p> + With this unusual burst, Kate retreated to Hope. Hope took the news more + patiently than any one, but with deep solicitude. A worldly marriage + seemed the natural result of the Ingleside influence, but it had not + occurred to anybody that it would come so soon. It had not seemed Emilia’s + peculiar temptation; and yet nobody could suppose that she looked at John + Lambert through any glamour of the affections. + </p> + <p> + Mr. John Lambert was a millionnaire, a politician, and a widower. The late + Mrs. Lambert had been a specimen of that cheerful hopelessness of + temperament that one finds abundantly developed among the middle-aged + women of country towns. She enjoyed her daily murders in the newspapers, + and wept profusely at the funerals of strangers. On every occasion, + however felicitous, she offered her condolences in a feeble voice, that + seemed to have been washed a great many times and to have faded. But she + was a good manager, a devoted wife, and was more cheerful at home than + elsewhere, for she had there plenty of trials to exercise her eloquence, + and not enough joy to make it her duty to be doleful. At last her poor, + meek, fatiguing voice faded out altogether, and her husband mourned her as + heartily as she would have bemoaned the demise of the most insignificant + neighbor. After her death, being left childless, he had nothing to do but + to make money, and he naturally made it. Having taken his primary + financial education in New England, he graduated at that great business + university, Chicago, and then entered on the public practice of wealth in + New York. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Jane had perhaps done injustice to the personal appearance of Mr. + John Lambert. His features were irregular, but not insignificant, and + there was a certain air of slow command about him, which made some persons + call him handsome. He was heavily built, with a large, well-shaped head, + light whiskers tinged with gray, and a sort of dusty complexion. His face + was full of little curved wrinkles, as if it were a slate just ruled for + sums in long division, and his small blue eyes winked anxiously a dozen + different ways, as if they were doing the sums. He seemed to bristle with + memorandum-books, and kept drawing them from every pocket, to put + something down. He was slow of speech, and his very heaviness of look + added to the impression of reserved power about the man. + </p> + <p> + All his career in life had been a solid progress, and his boldest + speculations seemed securer than the legitimate business of less potent + financiers. Beginning business life by peddling gingerbread on a railway + train, he had developed such a genius for railway management as some men + show for chess or for virtue; and his accumulating property had the + momentum of a planet. + </p> + <p> + He had read a good deal at odd times, and had seen a great deal of men. + His private morals were unstained, he was equable and amiable, had strong + good sense, and never got beyond his depth. He had travelled in Europe and + brought home many statistics, some new thoughts, and a few good pictures + selected by his friends. He spent his money liberally for the things + needful to his position, owned a yacht, bred trotting-horses, and had + founded a theological school. He submitted to these and other social + observances from a vague sense of duty as an American citizen; his real + interest lay in business and in politics. Yet he conducted these two + vocations on principles diametrically opposite. In business he was more + honest than the average; in politics he had no conception of honesty, for + he could see no difference between a politician and any other merchandise. + He always succeeded in business, for he thoroughly understood its + principles; in politics he always failed in the end, for he recognized no + principles at all. In business he was active, resolute, and seldom + deceived; in politics he was equally active, but was apt to be irresolute, + and was deceived every day of his life. In both cases it was not so much + from love of power that he labored, as from the excitement of the game. + The larger the scale the better he liked it; a large railroad operation, a + large tract of real estate, a big and noisy statesman,—these + investments he found irresistible. + </p> + <p> + On which of his two sets of principles he would manage a wife remained to + be proved. It is the misfortune of what are called self-made men in + America, that, though early accustomed to the society of men of the world, + they often remain utterly unacquainted with women of the world, until + those charming perils are at last sprung upon them in full force, at New + York or Washington. John Lambert at forty was as absolutely ignorant of + the qualities and habits of a cultivated woman as of the details of her + toilet. The plain domesticity of his departed wife he had understood and + prized; he remembered her household ways as he did her black alpaca dress; + indeed, except for that item of apparel, she was not so unlike himself. In + later years he had seen the women of society; he had heard them talk; he + had heard men talk about them, wittily or wickedly, at the clubs; he had + perceived that a good many of them wished to marry him, and yet, after + all, he knew no more of them than of the rearing of humming-birds or + orchids,—dainty, tropical things which he allowed his gardener to + raise, he keeping his hands off, and only paying the bills. Whether there + was in existence a class of women who were both useful and refined,—any + intermediate type between the butterfly and the drudge,—was a + question which he had sometimes asked himself, without having the + materials to construct a reply. + </p> + <p> + With imagination thus touched and heart unfilled, this man had been + bewitched from the very first moment by Emilia. He kept it to himself, and + heard in silence the criticisms made at the club-windows. To those + perpetual jokes about marriage, which are showered with such graceful + courtesy about the path of widowers, he had no reply; or at most would + only admit that he needed some elegant woman to preside over his + establishment, and that he had better take her young, as having habits + less fixed. But in his secret soul he treasured every tone of this girl’s + voice, every glance of her eye, and would have kept in a casket of gold + and diamonds the little fragrant glove she once let fall. He envied the + penniless and brainless boys, who, with ready gallantry, pushed by him to + escort her to her carriage; and he lay awake at night to form into words + the answer he ought to have made, when she threw at him some careless + phrase, and gave him the opportunity to blunder. + </p> + <p> + And she, meanwhile, unconscious of his passion, went by him in her beauty, + and caught him in the net she never threw. Emilia was always piquant, + because she was indifferent; she had never made an effort in her life, and + she had no respect for persons. She was capable of marrying for money, + perhaps, but the sacrifice must all be completed in a single vow. She + would not tutor nor control herself for the purpose. Hand and heart must + be duly transferred, she supposed, whenever the time was up; but till then + she must be free. + </p> + <p> + This with her was not art, but necessity; yet the most accomplished art + could have devised nothing so effectual to hold her lover. His strong + sense had always protected him from the tricks of matchmaking mammas and + their guileless maids. Had Emilia made one effort to please him, once + concealed a dislike, once affected a preference, the spell might have been + broken. Had she been his slave, he might have become a very unyielding or + a very heedless despot. Making him her slave, she kept him at the very + height of bliss. This king of railways and purchaser of statesmen, this + man who made or wrecked the fortunes of others by his whim, was absolutely + governed by a reckless, passionate, inexperienced, ignorant girl. + </p> + <p> + And this passion was made all the stronger by being a good deal confined + to his own breast. Somehow it was very hard for him to talk sentiment to + Emilia; he instinctively saw she disliked it, and indeed he liked her for + not approving the stiff phrases which were all he could command. Nor could + he find any relief of mind in talking with others about her. It enraged + him to be clapped on the back and congratulated by his compeers; and he + stopped their coarse jokes, often rudely enough. As for the young men at + the club, he could not bear to hear them mention his darling’s name, + however courteously. He knew well enough that for them the betrothal had + neither dignity nor purity; that they held it to be as much a matter of + bargain and sale as their worst amours. He would far rather have talked to + the theological professors whose salaries he paid, for he saw that they + had a sort of grave, formal tradition of the sacredness of marriage. And + he had a right to claim that to him it was sacred, at least as yet; all + the ideal side of his nature was suddenly developed; he walked in a dream; + he even read Tennyson. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he talked a little to his future brother-in-law, Harry,—assuming, + as lovers are wont, that brothers see sisters on their ideal side. This + was quite true of Harry and Hope, but not at all true as regarded Emilia. + She seemed to him simply a beautiful and ungoverned girl whom he could not + respect, and whom he therefore found it very hard to idealize. Therefore + he heard with a sort of sadness the outpourings of generous devotion from + John Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how it is, Henry,” the merchant would gravely say, “I can’t + get rightly used to it, that I feel so strange. Honestly, now, I feel as + if I was beginning life over again. It ain’t a selfish feeling, so I know + there’s some good in it. I used to be selfish enough, but I ain’t so to + her. You may not think it, but if it would make her happy, I believe I + could lie down and let her carriage roll over me. By ——-, I + would build her a palace to live in, and keep the lodge at the gate + myself, just to see her pass by. That is, if she was to live in it alone + by herself. I couldn’t stand sharing her. It must be me or nobody.” + </p> + <p> + Probably there was no male acquaintance of the parties, however hardened, + to whom these fine flights would have seemed more utterly preposterous + than to the immediate friend and prospective bridesmaid, Miss Blanche + Ingleside. To that young lady, trained sedulously by a devoted mother, + life was really a serious thing. It meant the full rigor of the marriage + market, tempered only by dancing and new dresses. There was a stern sense + of duty beneath all her robing and disrobing; she conscientiously did what + was expected of her, and took her little amusements meanwhile. It was + supposed that most of the purchasers in the market preferred slang and + bare shoulders, and so she favored them with plenty of both. It was merely + the law of supply and demand. Had John Lambert once hinted that he would + accept her in decent black, she would have gone to the next ball as a + Sister of Charity; but where was the need of it, when she and her mother + both knew that, had she appeared as the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, she + would not have won him? So her only resource was a cheerful acquiescence + in Emilia’s luck, and a judicious propitiation of the accepted favorite. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t mind playing Virtue Rewarded myself, young woman,” said + Blanche, “at such a scale of prices. I would do it even to so slow an + audience as old Lambert. But you see, it isn’t my line. Don’t forget your + humble friends when you come into your property, that’s all.” Then the + tender coterie of innocents entered on some preliminary consideration of + wedding-dresses. + </p> + <p> + When Emilia came home, she dismissed the whole matter lightly as a settled + thing, evaded all talk with Aunt Jane, and coolly said to Kate that she + had no objection to Mr. Lambert, and might as well marry him as anybody + else. + </p> + <p> + “I am not like you and Hal, you know,” said she. “I have no fancy for love + in a cottage. I never look well in anything that is not costly. I have not + a taste that does not imply a fortune. What is the use of love? One + marries for love, and is unhappy ever after. One marries for money, and + perhaps gets love after all. I dare say Mr. Lambert loves me, though I do + not see why he should.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear he does,” said Kate, almost severely. + </p> + <p> + “Fear?” said Emilia. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Kate. “It is an unequal bargain, where one side does all the + loving.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be troubled,” said Emilia. “I dare say he will not love me long. + Nobody ever did!” And her eyes filled with tears which she dashed away + angrily, as she ran up to her room. + </p> + <p> + It was harder yet for her to talk with Hope, but she did it, and that in a + very serious mood. She had never been so open with her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Jane once told me,” she said, “that my only safety was in marrying a + good man. Now I am engaged to one.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you love him, Emilia?” asked Hope, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said Emilia, honestly. “But perhaps I shall, by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “Emilia,” cried Hope, “there is no such thing as happiness in a marriage + without love.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine is not without love,” the girl answered. “He loves me. It frightens + me to see how much he loves me. I can have the devotion of a lifetime, if + I will. Perhaps it is hard to receive it in such a way, but I can have it. + Do you blame me very much?” + </p> + <p> + Hope hesitated. “I cannot blame you so much, my child,” she said, “as if I + thought it were money for which you cared. It seems to me that there must + be something beside that, and yet—” + </p> + <p> + “O Hope, how I thank you,” interrupted Emilia. “It is not money. You know + I do not care about money, except just to buy my clothes and things. At + least, I do not care about so much as he has,—more than a million + dollars, only think! Perhaps they said two million. Is it wrong for me to + marry him, just because he has that?” + </p> + <p> + “Not if you love him.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not exactly love him, but O Hope, I cannot tell you about it. I am + not so frivolous as you think. I want to do my duty. I want to make you + happy too: you have been so sweet to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you think it would make me happy to have you married?” asked Hope, + surprised, and kissing again and again the young, sad face. And the two + girls went upstairs together, brought for the moment into more sisterly + nearness by the very thing that had seemed likely to set them forever + apart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. DREAMING DREAMS. + </h2> + <p> + SO short was the period between Emilia’s betrothal and her marriage, that + Aunt Jane’s sufferings over trousseau and visits did not last long. Mr. + Lambert’s society was the worst thing to bear. + </p> + <p> + “He makes such long calls!” she said, despairingly. “He should bring an + almanac with him to know when the days go by.” + </p> + <p> + “But Harry and Philip are here all the time,” said Kate, the accustomed + soother. + </p> + <p> + “Harry is quiet, and Philip keeps out of the way lately,” she answered. + “But I always thought lovers the most inconvenient thing about a house. + They are more troublesome than the mice, and all those people who live in + the wainscot; for though the lovers make less noise, yet you have to see + them.” + </p> + <p> + “A necessary evil, dear,” said Kate, with much philosophy. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” said the complainant. “They might be excluded in the deed + of a house, or by the terms of the lease. The next house I take, I shall + say to the owner, ‘Have you a good well of water on the premises? Are you + troubled with rats or lovers?’ That will settle it.” + </p> + <p> + It was true, what Aunt Jane said about Malbone. He had changed his habits + a good deal. While the girls were desperately busy about the dresses, he + beguiled Harry to the club, and sat on the piazza, talking sentiment and + sarcasm, regardless of hearers. + </p> + <p> + “When we are young,” he would say, “we are all idealists in love. Every + imaginative boy has such a passion, while his intellect is crude and his + senses indifferent. It is the height of bliss. All other pleasures are not + worth its pains. With older men this ecstasy of the imagination is rare; + it is the senses that clutch or reason which holds.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that an improvement?” asked some juvenile listener. + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Philip, strongly. “Reason is cold and sensuality hateful; a man + of any feeling must feed his imagination; there must be a woman of whom he + can dream.” + </p> + <p> + “That is,” put in some more critical auditor, “whom he can love as a woman + loves a man.” + </p> + <p> + “For want of the experience of such a passion,” Malbone went on, + unheeding, “nobody comprehends Petrarch. Philosophers and sensualists all + refuse to believe that his dream of Laura went on, even when he had a + mistress and a child. Why not? Every one must have something to which his + dreams can cling, amid the degradations of actual life, and this tie is + more real than the degradation; and if he holds to the tie, it will one + day save him.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the need of the degradation?” put in the clear-headed Harry. + </p> + <p> + “None, except in weakness,” said Philip. “A stronger nature may escape it. + Good God! do I not know how Petrarch must have felt? What sorrow life + brings! Suppose a man hopelessly separated from one whom he passionately + loves. Then, as he looks up at the starry sky, something says to him: ‘You + can bear all these agonies of privation, loss of life, loss of love,—what + are they? If the tie between you is what you thought, neither life nor + death, neither folly nor sin, can keep her forever from you.’ Would that + one could always feel so! But I am weak. Then comes impulse, it thirsts + for some immediate gratification; I yield, and plunge into any happiness + since I cannot obtain her. Then comes quiet again, with the stars, and I + bitterly reproach myself for needing anything more than that stainless + ideal. And so, I fancy, did Petrarch.” + </p> + <p> + Philip was getting into a dangerous mood with his sentimentalism. No + lawful passion can ever be so bewildering or ecstatic as an unlawful one. + For that which is right has all the powers of the universe on its side, + and can afford to wait; but the wrong, having all those vast forces + against it, must hurry to its fulfilment, reserve nothing, concentrate all + its ecstasies upon to-day. Malbone, greedy of emotion, was drinking to the + dregs a passion that could have no to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + Sympathetic persons are apt to assume that every refined emotion must be + ennobling. This is not true of men like Malbone, voluptuaries of the + heart. He ordinarily got up a passion very much as Lord Russell got up an + appetite,—he, of Spence’s Anecdotes, who went out hunting for that + sole purpose, and left the chase when the sensation came. Malbone did not + leave his more spiritual chase so soon,—it made him too happy. + Sometimes, indeed, when he had thus caught his emotion, it caught him in + return, and for a few moments made him almost unhappy. This he liked best + of all; he nursed the delicious pain, knowing that it would die out soon + enough, there was no need of hurrying it to a close. At least, there had + never been need for such solicitude before. + </p> + <p> + Except for his genius for keeping his own counsel, every acquaintance of + Malbone’s would have divined the meaning of these reveries. As it was, he + was called whimsical and sentimental, but he was a man of sufficiently + assured position to have whims of his own, and could even treat himself to + an emotion or so, if he saw fit. Besides, he talked well to anybody on + anything, and was admitted to exhibit, for a man of literary tastes, a + good deal of sense. If he had engaged himself to a handsome + schoolmistress, it was his fancy, and he could afford it. Moreover she was + well connected, and had an air. And what more natural than that he should + stand at the club-window and watch, when his young half-sister (that was + to be) drove by with John Lambert? So every afternoon he saw them pass in + a vehicle of lofty description, with two wretched appendages in dark blue + broadcloth, who sat with their backs turned to their masters, kept their + arms folded, and nearly rolled off at every corner. Hope would have + dreaded the close neighborhood of those Irish ears; she would rather have + ridden even in an omnibus, could she and Philip have taken all the seats. + But then Hope seldom cared to drive on the Avenue at all, except as a + means of reaching the ocean, whereas with most people it appears the + appointed means to escape from that spectacle. And as for the footmen, + there was nothing in the conversation worth their hearing or repeating; + and their presence was a relief to Emilia, for who knew but Mr. Lambert + himself might end in growing sentimental? + </p> + <p> + Yet she did not find him always equally tedious. Their drives had some + variety. For instance, he sometimes gave her some lovely present before + they set forth, and she could feel that, if his lips did not yield + diamonds and rubies, his pockets did. Sometimes he conversed about money + and investments, which she rather liked; this was his strong and + commanding point; he explained things quite clearly, and they found, with + mutual surprise, that she also had a shrewd little brain for those + matters, if she would but take the trouble to think about them. Sometimes + he insisted on being tender, and even this was not so bad as she expected, + at least for a few minutes at a time; she rather enjoyed having her hand + pressed so seriously, and his studied phrases amused her. It was only when + he wished the conversation to be brilliant and intellectual, that he + became intolerable; then she must entertain him, must get up little + repartees, must tell him lively anecdotes, which he swallowed as a dog + bolts a morsel, being at once ready for the next. He never made a comment, + of course, but at the height of his enjoyment he gave a quick, short, + stupid laugh, that so jarred upon her ears, she would have liked to be + struck deaf rather than hear it again. + </p> + <p> + At these times she thought of Malbone, how gifted he was, how + inexhaustible, how agreeable, with a faculty for happiness that would have + been almost provoking had it not been contagious. Then she looked from her + airy perch and smiled at him at the club-window, where he stood in the + most negligent of attitudes, and with every faculty strained in + observation. A moment and she was gone. + </p> + <p> + Then all was gone, and a mob of queens might have blocked the way, without + his caring to discuss their genealogies, even with old General Le Breton, + who had spent his best (or his worst) years abroad, and was supposed to + have been confidential adviser to most of the crowned heads of Europe. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in his life Malbone found himself in the grasp of a + passion too strong to be delightful. For the first time his own heart + frightened him. He had sometimes feared that it was growing harder, but + now he discovered that it was not hard enough. + </p> + <p> + He knew it was not merely mercenary motives that had made Emilia accept + John Lambert; but what troubled him was a vague knowledge that it was not + mere pique. He was used to dealing with pique in women, and had found it + the most manageable of weaknesses. It was an element of spasmodic + conscience than he saw here, and it troubled him. + </p> + <p> + Something told him that she had said to herself: “I will be married, and + thus do my duty to Hope. Other girls marry persons whom they do not love, + and it helps them to forget. Perhaps it will help me. This is a good man, + they say, and I think he loves me.” + </p> + <p> + “Think?” John Lambert had adored her when she had passed by him without + looking at him; and now when the thought came over him that she would be + his wife, he became stupid with bliss. And as latterly he had thought of + little else, he remained more or less stupid all the time. + </p> + <p> + To a man like Malbone, self-indulgent rather than selfish, this poor, + blind semblance of a moral purpose in Emilia was a great embarrassment. It + is a terrible thing for a lover when he detects conscience amidst the + armory of weapons used against him, and faces the fact that he must blunt + a woman’s principles to win her heart. Philip was rather accustomed to + evade conscience, but he never liked to look it in the face and defy it. + </p> + <p> + Yet if the thought of Hope at this time came over him, it came as a + constraint, and he disliked it as such; and the more generous and + beautiful she was, the greater the constraint. He cursed himself that he + had allowed himself to be swayed back to her, and so had lost Emilia + forever. And thus he drifted on, not knowing what he wished for, but + knowing extremely well what he feared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. THE NEMESIS OF PASSION. + </h2> + <p> + MALBONE was a person of such ready, emotional nature, and such easy + expression, that it was not hard for Hope to hide from herself the gradual + ebbing of his love. Whenever he was fresh and full of spirits, he had + enough to overflow upon her and every one. But when other thoughts and + cares were weighing on him, he could not share them, nor could he at such + times, out of the narrowing channel of his own life, furnish more than a + few scanty drops for her. + </p> + <p> + At these times he watched with torturing fluctuations the signs of + solicitude in Hope, the timid withdrawing of her fingers, the questioning + of her eyes, the weary drooping of her whole expression. Often he cursed + himself as a wretch for paining that pure and noble heart. Yet there were + moments when a vague inexpressible delight stole in; a glimmering of + shame-faced pleasure as he pondered on this visible dawning of distrust; a + sudden taste of freedom in being no longer fettered by her confidence. By + degrees he led himself, still half ashamed, to the dream that she might + yet be somehow weaned from him, and leave his conscience free. By + constantly building upon this thought, and putting aside all others, he + made room upon the waste of his life for a house of cards, glittering, + unsubstantial, lofty,—until there came some sudden breath that swept + it away; and then he began on it again. + </p> + <p> + In one of those moments of more familiar faith which still alternated with + these cold, sad intervals, she asked him with some sudden impulse, how he + should feel if she loved another? She said it, as if guided by an + instinct, to sound the depth of his love for her. Starting with amazement, + he looked at her, and then, divining her feeling, he only replied by an + expression of reproach, and by kissing her hands with an habitual + tenderness that had grown easy to him,—and they were such lovely + hands! But his heart told him that no spent swimmer ever transferred more + eagerly to another’s arms some precious burden beneath which he was + consciously sinking, than he would yield her up to any one whom she would + consent to love, and who could be trusted with the treasure. Until that + ecstasy of release should come, he would do his duty,—yes, his duty. + </p> + <p> + When these flushed hopes grew pale, as they soon did, he could at least + play with the wan fancies that took their place. Hour after hour, while + she lavished upon him the sweetness of her devotion, he was half + consciously shaping with his tongue some word of terrible revealing that + should divide them like a spell, if spoken, and then recalling it before + it left his lips. Daily and hourly he felt the last agony of a weak and + passionate nature,—to dream of one woman in another’s arms. + </p> + <p> + She, too, watched him with an ever-increasing instinct of danger, studied + with a chilly terror the workings of his face, weighed and reweighed his + words in absence, agonized herself with new and ever new suspicions; and + then, when these had accumulated beyond endurance, seized them + convulsively and threw them all away. Then, coming back to him with a + great overwhelming ardor of affection, she poured upon him more and more + in proportion as he gave her less. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes in these moments of renewed affection he half gave words to his + remorse, accused himself before her of unnamed wrong, and besought her to + help him return to his better self. These were the most dangerous moments + of all, for such appeals made tenderness and patience appear a duty; she + must put away her doubts as sins, and hold him to her; she must refuse to + see his signs of faltering faith, or treat them as mere symptoms of ill + health. Should not a wife cling the closer to her husband in proportion as + he seemed alienated through the wanderings of disease? And was not this + her position? So she said within herself, and meanwhile it was not hard to + penetrate her changing thoughts, at least for so keen an observer as Aunt + Jane. Hope, at length, almost ceased to speak of Malbone, and revealed her + grief by this evasion, as the robin reveals her nest by flitting from it. + </p> + <p> + Yet there were times when he really tried to force himself into a revival + of this calmer emotion. He studied Hope’s beauty with his eyes, he + pondered on all her nobleness. He wished to bring his whole heart back to + her—or at least wished that he wished it. But hearts that have + educated themselves into faithlessness must sooner or later share the + suffering they give. Love will be avenged on them. Nothing could have now + recalled this epicure in passion, except, possibly, a little withholding + or semi-coquetry on Hope’s part, and this was utterly impossible for her. + Absolute directness was a part of her nature; she could die, but not + manouvre. + </p> + <p> + It actually diminished Hope’s hold on Philip, that she had at this time + the whole field to herself. Emilia had gone for a few weeks to the + mountains, with the household of which she was a guest. An ideal and + unreasonable passion is strongest in absence, when the dream is all pure + dream, and safe from the discrepancies of daily life. When the two girls + were together, Emilia often showed herself so plainly Hope’s inferior, + that it jarred on Philip’s fine perceptions. But in Emilia’s absence the + spell of temperament, or whatever else brought them together, resumed its + sway unchecked; she became one great magnet of attraction, and all the + currents of the universe appeared to flow from the direction where her + eyes were shining. When she was out of sight, he needed to make no + allowance for her defects, to reproach himself with no overt acts of + disloyalty to Hope, to recognize no criticisms of his own intellect or + conscience. He could resign himself to his reveries, and pursue them into + new subtleties day by day. + </p> + <p> + There was Mrs. Meredith’s house, too, where they had been so happy. And + now the blinds were pitilessly closed, all but one where the Venetian + slats had slipped, and stood half open as if some dainty fingers held + them, and some lovely eyes looked through. He gazed so long and so often + on that silent house,—by day, when the scorching sunshine searched + its pores as if to purge away every haunting association, or by night, + when the mantle of darkness hung tenderly above it, and seemed to collect + the dear remembrances again,—that his fancy by degrees grew morbid, + and its pictures unreal. “It is impossible,” he one day thought to + himself, “that she should have lived in that room so long, sat in that + window, dreamed on that couch, reflected herself in that mirror, breathed + that air, without somehow detaching invisible fibres of her being, + delicate films of herself, that must gradually, she being gone, draw + together into a separate individuality an image not quite bodiless, that + replaces her in her absence, as the holy Theocrite was replaced by the + angel. If there are ghosts of the dead, why not ghosts of the living + also?” This lover’s fancy so pleased him that he brought to bear upon it + the whole force of his imagination, and it grew stronger day by day. To + him, thenceforth, the house was haunted, and all its floating traces of + herself visible or invisible,—from the ribbon that he saw entangled + in the window-blind to every intangible and fancied atom she had imparted + to the atmosphere,—came at last to organize themselves into one + phantom shape for him and looked out, a wraith of Emilia, through those + relentless blinds. As the vision grew more vivid, he saw the dim figure + moving through the house, wan, restless, tender, lingering where they had + lingered, haunting every nook where they had been happy once. In the windy + moanings of the silent night he could put his ear at the keyhole, and + could fancy that he heard the wild signals of her love and despair. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. ACROSS THE BAY. + </h2> + <p> + THE children, as has been said, were all devoted to Malbone, and this was, + in a certain degree, to his credit. But it is a mistake to call children + good judges of character, except in one direction, namely, their own. They + understand it, up to the level of their own stature; they know who loves + them, but not who loves virtue. Many a sinner has a great affection for + children, and no child will ever detect the sins of such a friend; + because, toward them, the sins do not exist. + </p> + <p> + The children, therefore, all loved Philip, and yet they turned with + delight, when out-door pleasures were in hand, to the strong and adroit + Harry. Philip inclined to the daintier exercises, fencing, billiards, + riding; but Harry’s vigorous physique enjoyed hard work. He taught all the + household to swim, for instance. Jenny, aged five, a sturdy, deep-chested + little thing, seemed as amphibious as himself. She could already swim + alone, but she liked to keep close to him, as all young animals do to + their elders in the water, not seeming to need actual support, but + stronger for the contact. Her favorite position, however, was on his back, + where she triumphantly clung, grasping his bathing-dress with one hand, + swinging herself to and fro, dipping her head beneath the water, singing + and shouting, easily shifting her position when he wished to vary his, and + floating by him like a little fish, when he was tired of supporting her. + It was pretty to see the child in her one little crimson garment, her face + flushed with delight, her fair hair glistening from the water, and the + waves rippling and dancing round her buoyant form. As Harry swam farther + and farther out, his head was hidden from view by her small person, and + she might have passed for a red seabird rocking on the gentle waves. It + was one of the regular delights of the household to see them bathe. + </p> + <p> + Kate came in to Aunt Jane’s room, one August morning, to say that they + were going to the water-side. How differently people may enter a room! + Hope always came in as the summer breeze comes, quiet, strong, soft, + fragrant, resistless. Emilia never seemed to come in at all; you looked + up, and she had somehow drifted where she stood, pleading, evasive, + lovely. This was especially the case where one person was awaiting her + alone; with two she was more fearless, with a dozen she was buoyant, and + with a hundred she forgot herself utterly and was a spirit of irresistible + delight. + </p> + <p> + But Kate entered any room, whether nursery or kitchen, as if it were the + private boudoir of a princess and she the favorite maid of honor. Thus it + was she came that morning to Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + “We are going down to see the bathers, dear,” said Kate. “Shall you miss + me?” + </p> + <p> + “I miss you every minute,” said her aunt, decisively. “But I shall do very + well. I have delightful times here by myself. What a ridiculous man it was + who said that it was impossible to imagine a woman’s laughing at her own + comic fancies. I sit and laugh at my own nonsense very often.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a shame to waste it,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “It is a blessing that any of it is disposed of while you are not here,” + said Aunt Jane. “You have quite enough of it.” + </p> + <p> + “We never have enough,” said Kate. “And we never can make you repeat any + of yesterday’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said Aunt Jane. “Nonsense must have the dew on it, or it + is good for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “So you are really happiest alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so happy as when you are with me,—you or Hope. I like to have + Hope with me now; she does me good. Really, I do not care for anybody + else. Sometimes I think if I could always have four or five young kittens + by me, in a champagne-basket, with a nurse to watch them, I should be + happier. But perhaps not; they would grow up so fast!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will leave you alone without compunction,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “I am not alone,” said Aunt Jane; “I have my man in the boat to watch + through the window. What a singular being he is! I think he spends hours + in that boat, and what he does I can’t conceive. There it is, quietly + anchored, and there is he in it. I never saw anybody but myself who could + get up so much industry out of nothing. He has all his housework there, a + broom and a duster, and I dare say he has a cooking-stove and a gridiron. + He sits a little while, then he stoops down, then he goes to the other + end. Sometimes he goes ashore in that absurd little tub, with a stick that + he twirls at one end.” + </p> + <p> + “That is called sculling,” interrupted Kate. + </p> + <p> + “Sculling! I suppose he runs for a baked potato. Then he goes back. He is + Robinson Crusoe on an island that never keeps still a single instant. It + is all he has, and he never looks away, and never wants anything more. So + I have him to watch. Think of living so near a beaver or a water-rat with + clothes on! Good-by. Leave the door ajar, it is so warm.” + </p> + <p> + And Kate went down to the landing. It was near the “baptismal shore,” + where every Sunday the young people used to watch the immersions; they + liked to see the crowd of spectators, the eager friends, the dripping + convert, the serene young minister, the old men and girls who burst forth + in song as the new disciple rose from the waves. It was the weekly + festival in that region, and the sunshine and the ripples made it + gladdening, not gloomy. Every other day in the week the children of the + fishermen waded waist-deep in the water, and played at baptism. + </p> + <p> + Near this shore stood the family bathing-house; and the girls came down to + sit in its shadow and watch the swimming. It was late in August, and on + the first of September Emilia was to be married. + </p> + <p> + Nothing looked cool, that day, but the bay and those who were going into + it. Out came Hope from the bathing-house, in a new bathing-dress of dark + blue, which was evidently what the others had come forth to behold. + </p> + <p> + “Hope, what an imposter you are!” cried Kate instantly. “You declined all + my proffers of aid in cutting that dress, and now see how it fits you! You + never looked so beautifully in your life. There is not such another + bathing-dress in Oldport, nor such a figure to wear it.” + </p> + <p> + And she put both her arms round that supple, stately waist, that might + have belonged to a Greek goddess, or to some queen in the Nibelungen Lied. + </p> + <p> + The party watched the swimmers as they struck out over the clear expanse. + It was high noon; the fishing-boats were all off, but a few pleasure-boats + swung different ways at their moorings, in the perfect calm. The white + light-house stood reflected opposite, at the end of its long pier; a few + vessels lay at anchor, with their sails up to dry, but with that deserted + look which coasters in port are wont to wear. A few fishes dimpled the + still surface, and as the three swam out farther and farther, their merry + voices still sounded close at hand. Suddenly they all clapped their hands + and called; then pointed forward to the light-house, across the narrow + harbor. + </p> + <p> + “They are going to swim across,” said Kate. “What creatures they are! Hope + and little Jenny have always begged for it, and now Harry thinks it is so + still a day they can safely venture. It is more than half a mile. See! he + has called that boy in a boat, and he will keep near them. They have swum + farther than that along the shore.” + </p> + <p> + So the others went away with no fears. + </p> + <p> + Hope said afterwards that she never swam with such delight as on that day. + The water seemed to be peculiarly thin and clear, she said, as well as + tranquil, and to retain its usual buoyancy without its density. It gave a + delicious sense of freedom; she seemed to swim in air, and felt singularly + secure. For the first time she felt what she had always wished to + experience,—that swimming was as natural as walking, and might be + indefinitely prolonged. Her strength seemed limitless, she struck out more + and more strongly; she splashed and played with little Jenny, when the + child began to grow weary of the long motion. A fisherman’s boy in a boat + rowed slowly along by their side. + </p> + <p> + Nine tenths of the distance had been accomplished, when the little girl + grew quite impatient, and Hope bade Harry swim on before her, and land his + charge. Light and buoyant as the child was, her tightened clasp had begun + to tell on him. + </p> + <p> + “It tires you, Hal, to bear that weight so long, and you know I have + nothing to carry. You must see that I am not in the least tired, only a + little dazzled by the sun. Here, Charley, give me your hat, and then row + on with Mr. Harry.” She put on the boy’s torn straw hat, and they yielded + to her wish. People almost always yielded to Hope’s wishes when she + expressed them,—it was so very seldom. + </p> + <p> + Somehow the remaining distance seemed very great, as Hope saw them glide + away, leaving her in the water alone, her feet unsupported by any firm + element, the bright and pitiless sky arching far above her, and her head + burning with more heat than she had liked to own. She was conscious of her + full strength, and swam more vigorously than ever; but her head was hot + and her ears rang, and she felt chilly vibrations passing up and down her + sides, that were like, she fancied, the innumerable fringing oars of the + little jelly-fishes she had so often watched. Her body felt almost + unnaturally strong, and she took powerful strokes; but it seemed as if her + heart went out into them and left a vacant cavity within. More and more + her life seemed boiling up into her head; queer fancies came to her, as, + for instance, that she was an inverted thermometer with the mercury all + ascending into a bulb at the top. She shook her head and the fancy cleared + away, and then others came. + </p> + <p> + She began to grow seriously anxious, but the distance was diminishing; + Harry was almost at the steps with the child, and the boy had rowed his + skiff round the breakwater out of sight; a young fisherman leaned over the + railing with his back to her, watching the lobster-catchers on the other + side. She was almost in; it was only a slight dizziness, yet she could not + see the light-house. Concentrating all her efforts, she shut her eyes and + swam on, her arms still unaccountably vigorous, though the rest of her + body seemed losing itself in languor. The sound in her ear had grown to a + roar, as of many mill-wheels. It seemed a long distance that she thus swam + with her eyes closed. Then she half opened her eyes, and the breakwater + seemed all in motion, with tier above tier of eager faces looking down on + her. In an instant there was a sharp splash close beside her, and she felt + herself grasped and drawn downwards, with a whirl of something just above + her, and then all consciousness went out as suddenly as when ether brings + at last to a patient, after the roaring and the tumult in his brain, its + blessed foretaste of the deliciousness of death. + </p> + <p> + When Hope came again to consciousness, she found herself approaching her + own pier in a sail-boat, with several very wet gentlemen around her, and + little Jenny nestled close to her, crying as profusely as if her pretty + scarlet bathing-dress were being wrung out through her eyes. Hope asked no + questions, and hardly felt the impulse to inquire what had happened. The + truth was, that in the temporary dizziness produced by her prolonged swim, + she had found herself in the track of a steamboat that was passing the + pier, unobserved by her brother. A young man, leaping from the dock, had + caught her in his arms, and had dived with her below the paddle-wheels, + just as they came upon her. It was a daring act, but nothing else could + have saved her. When they came to the surface, they had been picked up by + Aunt Jane’s Robinson Crusoe, who had at last unmoored his pilot-boat and + was rounding the light-house for the outer harbor. + </p> + <p> + She and the child were soon landed, and given over to the ladies. Due + attention was paid to her young rescuer, whose dripping garments seemed + for the moment as glorious as a blood-stained flag. He seemed a simple, + frank young fellow of French or German origin, but speaking English + remarkably well; he was not high-bred, by any means, but had apparently + the culture of an average German of the middle class. Harry fancied that + he had seen him before, and at last traced back the impression of his + features to the ball for the French officers. It turned out, on inquiry, + that he had a brother in the service, and on board the corvette; but he + himself was a commercial agent, now in America with a view to business, + though he had made several voyages as mate of a vessel, and would not + object to some such berth as that. He promised to return and receive the + thanks of the family, read with interest the name on Harry’s card, seemed + about to ask a question, but forbore, and took his leave amid the general + confusion, without even giving his address. When sought next day, he was + not to be found, and to the children he at once became as much a creature + of romance as the sea-serpent or the Flying Dutchman. + </p> + <p> + Even Hope’s strong constitution felt the shock of this adventure. She was + confined to her room for a week or two, but begged that there might be no + postponement of the wedding, which, therefore, took place without her. Her + illness gave excuse for a privacy that was welcome to all but the + bridesmaids, and suited Malbone best of all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. ON THE STAIRS. + </h2> + <h3> + AUGUST drew toward its close, and guests departed from the neighborhood. + </h3> + <p> + “What a short little thing summer is,” meditated Aunt Jane, “and + butterflies are caterpillars most of the time after all. How quiet it + seems. The wrens whisper in their box above the window, and there has not + been a blast from the peacock for a week. He seems ashamed of the summer + shortness of his tail. He keeps glancing at it over his shoulder to see if + it is not looking better than yesterday, while the staring eyes of the old + tail are in the bushes all about.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor, dear little thing!” said coaxing Katie. “Is she tired of autumn, + before it is begun?” + </p> + <p> + “I am never tired of anything,” said Aunt Jane, “except my maid Ruth, and + I should not be tired of her, if it had pleased Heaven to endow her with + sufficient strength of mind to sew on a button. Life is very rich to me. + There is always something new in every season; though to be sure I cannot + think what novelty there is just now, except a choice variety of spiders. + There is a theory that spiders kill flies. But I never miss a fly, and + there does not seem to be any natural scourge divinely appointed to kill + spiders, except Ruth. Even she does it so feebly, that I see them come + back and hang on their webs and make faces at her. I suppose they are + faces; I do not understand their anatomy, but it must be a very unpleasant + one.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not quite satisfied with life, today, dear,” said Kate; “I fear + your book did not end to your satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “It did end, though,” said the lady, “and that is something. What is there + in life so difficult as to stop a book? If I wrote one, it would be as + long as ten ‘Sir Charles Grandisons,’ and then I never should end it, + because I should die. And there would be nobody left to read it, because + each reader would have been dead long before.” + </p> + <p> + “But the book amused you!” interrupted Kate. “I know it did.” + </p> + <p> + “It was so absurd that I laughed till I cried; and it makes no difference + whether you cry laughing or cry crying; it is equally bad when your + glasses come off. Never mind. Whom did you see on the Avenue?” + </p> + <p> + “O, we saw Philip on horseback. He rides so beautifully; he seems one with + his horse.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of it,” interposed his aunt. “The riders are generally so + inferior to them.” + </p> + <p> + “We saw Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, too. Emilia stopped and asked after you, and + sent you her love, auntie.” + </p> + <p> + “Love!” cried Aunt Jane. “She always does that. She has sent me love + enough to rear a whole family on,—more than I ever felt for anybody + in all my days. But she does not really love any one.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope she will love her husband,” said Kate, rather seriously. + </p> + <p> + “Mark my words, Kate!” said her aunt. “Nothing but unhappiness will ever + come of that marriage. How can two people be happy who have absolutely + nothing in common?” + </p> + <p> + “But no two people have just the same tastes,” said Kate, “except Harry + and myself. It is not expected. It would be absurd for two people to be + divorced, because the one preferred white bread and the other brown.” + </p> + <p> + “They would be divorced very soon,” said Aunt Jane, “for the one who ate + brown bread would not live long.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is possible that he might live, auntie, in spite of your + prediction. And perhaps people may be happy, even if you and I do not see + how.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody ever thinks I see anything,” said Aunt Jane, in some dejection. + “You think I am nothing in the world but a sort of old oyster, making + amusement for people, and having no more to do with real life than oysters + have.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dearest!” cried Kate. “You have a great deal to do with all our + lives. You are a dear old insidious sapper-and-miner, looking at first + very inoffensive, and then working your way into our affections, and + spoiling us with coaxing. How you behave about children, for instance!” + </p> + <p> + “How?” said the other meekly. “As well as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “But you pretend that you dislike them.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do dislike them. How can anybody help it? Hear them swearing at + this moment, boys of five, paddling in the water there! Talk about the + murder of the innocents! There are so few innocents to be murdered! If I + only had a gun and could shoot!” + </p> + <p> + “You may not like those particular boys,” said Kate, “but you like good, + well-behaved children, very much.” + </p> + <p> + “It takes so many to take care of them! People drive by here, with + carriages so large that two of the largest horses can hardly draw them, + and all full of those little beings. They have a sort of roof, too, and + seem to expect to be out in all weathers.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had a family of children, perhaps you would find such a travelling + caravan very convenient,” said Kate. + </p> + <p> + “If I had such a family,” said her aunt, “I would have a separate + governess and guardian for each, very moral persons. They should come when + each child was two, and stay till it was twenty. The children should all + live apart, in order not to quarrel, and should meet once or twice a day + and bow to each other. I think that each should learn a different + language, so as not to converse, and then, perhaps, they would not get + each other into mischief.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure, auntie,” said Kate, “you have missed our small nephews and + nieces ever since their visit ended. How still the house has been!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” was the answer. “I hear a great many noises about the + house. Somebody comes in late at night. Perhaps it is Philip; but he comes + very softly in, wipes his feet very gently, like a clean thief, and goes + up stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “O auntie!” said Kate, “you know you have got over all such fancies.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not fancies,” said Aunt Jane. “Things do happen in houses! Did I + not look under the bed for a thief during fifteen years, and find one at + last? Why should I not be allowed to hear something now?” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear Aunt Jane,” said Kate, “you never told me this before.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she. “I was beginning to tell you the other day, but Ruth was + just bringing in my handkerchiefs, and she had used so much bluing, they + looked as if they had been washed in heaven, so that it was too + outrageous, and I forgot everything else.” + </p> + <p> + “But do you really hear anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said her aunt. “Ruth declares she hears noises in those closets + that I had nailed up, you know; but that is nothing; of course she does. + Rats. What I hear at night is the creaking of stairs, when I know that + nobody ought to be stirring. If you observe, you will hear it too. At + least, I should think you would, only that somehow everything always seems + to stop, when it is necessary to prove that I am foolish.” + </p> + <p> + The girls had no especial engagement that evening, and so got into a great + excitement on the stairway over Aunt Jane’s solicitudes. They convinced + themselves that they heard all sorts of things,—footfalls on + successive steps, the creak of a plank, the brushing of an arm against a + wall, the jar of some suspended object that was stirred in passing. Once + they heard something fall on the floor, and roll from step to step; and + yet they themselves stood on the stairway, and nothing passed. Then for + some time there was silence, but they would have persisted in their + observations, had not Philip come in from Mrs. Meredith’s in the midst of + it, so that the whole thing turned into a frolic, and they sat on the + stairs and told ghost stories half the night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. DISCOVERY. + </h2> + <p> + THE next evening Kate and Philip went to a ball. As Hope was passing + through the hall late in the evening, she heard a sudden, sharp cry + somewhere in the upper regions, that sounded, she thought, like a woman’s + voice. She stopped to hear, but there was silence. It seemed to come from + the direction of Malbone’s room, which was in the third story. Again came + the cry, more gently, ending in a sort of sobbing monologue. Gliding + rapidly up stairs in the dark, she paused at Philip’s deserted room, but + the door was locked, and there was profound stillness. She then descended, + and pausing at the great landing, heard other steps descending also. + Retreating to the end of the hall, she hastily lighted a candle, when the + steps ceased. With her accustomed nerve, wishing to explore the thing + thoroughly, she put out the light and kept still. As she expected, the + footsteps presently recommenced, descending stealthily, but drawing no + nearer, and seeming rather like sounds from an adjoining house, heard + through a party-wall. This was impossible, as the house stood alone. + Flushed with excitement, she relighted the hall candles, and, taking one + of them, searched the whole entry and stairway, going down even to the + large, old-fashioned cellar. + </p> + <p> + Looking about her in this unfamiliar region, her eye fell on a door that + seemed to open into the wall; she had noticed a similar door on the story + above,—one of the closet doors that had been nailed up by Aunt + Jane’s order. As she looked, however, a chill breath blew in from another + direction, extinguishing her lamp. This air came from the outer door of + the cellar, and she had just time to withdraw into a corner before a man’s + steps approached, passing close by her. + </p> + <p> + Even Hope’s strong nerves had begun to yield, and a cold shudder went + through her. Not daring to move, she pressed herself against the wall, and + her heart seemed to stop as the unseen stranger passed. Instead of his + ascending where she had come down, as she had expected, she heard him + grope his way toward the door she had seen in the wall. + </p> + <p> + There he seemed to find a stairway, and when his steps were thus turned + from her, she was seized by a sudden impulse and followed him, groping her + way as she could. She remembered that the girls had talked of secret + stairways in that house, though she had no conception whither they could + lead, unless to some of the shut-up closets. + </p> + <p> + She steadily followed, treading cautiously upon each creaking step. The + stairway was very narrow, and formed a regular spiral as in a turret. The + darkness and the curving motion confused her brain, and it was impossible + to tell how high in the house she was, except when once she put her hand + upon what was evidently a door, and moreover saw through its cracks the + lamp she had left burning in the upper hall. This glimpse of reality + reassured her. She had begun to discover where she was. The doors which + Aunt Jane had closed gave access, not to mere closets, but to a spiral + stairway, which evidently went from top to bottom of the house, and was + known to some one else beside herself. + </p> + <p> + Relieved of that slight shudder at the supernatural which sometimes + affects the healthiest nerves, Hope paused to consider. To alarm the + neighborhood was her first thought. A slight murmuring from above + dispelled it; she must first reconnoitre a few steps farther. As she + ascended a little way, a gleam shone upon her, and down the damp stairway + came a fragrant odor, as from some perfumed chamber. Then a door was shut + and reopened. Eager beyond expression, she followed on. Another step, and + she stood at the door of Malbone’s apartment. + </p> + <p> + The room was brilliant with light; the doors and windows were heavily + draped. Fruit and flowers and wine were on the table. On the sofa lay + Emilia in a gay ball-dress, sunk in one of her motionless trances, while + Malbone, pale with terror, was deluging her brows with the water he had + just brought from the well below. + </p> + <p> + Hope stopped a moment and leaned against the door, as her eyes met + Malbone’s. Then she made her way to a chair, and leaning on the back of + it, which she fingered convulsively, looked with bewildered eyes and + compressed lips from the one to the other. Malbone tried to speak, but + failed; tried again, and brought forth only a whisper that broke into + clearer speech as the words went on. “No use to explain,” he said. + “Lambert is in New York. Mrs. Meredith is expecting her—to-night + after the ball. What can we do?” + </p> + <p> + Hope covered her face as he spoke; she could bear anything better than to + have him say “we,” as if no gulf had opened between them. She sank slowly + on her knees behind her chair, keeping it as a sort of screen between + herself and these two people,—the counterfeits, they seemed, of her + lover and her sister. If the roof in falling to crush them had crushed her + also, she could scarcely have seemed more rigid or more powerless. It + passed, and the next moment she was on her feet again, capable of action. + </p> + <p> + “She must be taken,” she said very clearly, but in a lower tone than + usual, “to my chamber.” Then pointing to the candles, she said, more + huskily, “We must not be seen. Put them out.” Every syllable seemed to + exhaust her. But as Philip obeyed her words, he saw her move suddenly and + stand by Emilia’s side. + </p> + <p> + She put out both arms as if to lift the young girl, and carry her away. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot,” said Philip, putting her gently aside, while she shrank from + his touch. Then he took Emilia in his arms and bore her to the door, Hope + preceding. + </p> + <p> + Motioning him to pause a moment, she turned the lock softly, and looked + out into the dark entry. All was still. She went out, and he followed with + his motionless burden. They walked stealthily, like guilty things, yet + every slight motion seemed to ring in their ears. It was chilly, and Hope + shivered. Through the great open window on the stairway a white fog peered + in at them, and the distant fog-whistle came faintly through; it seemed as + if the very atmosphere were condensing about them, to isolate the house in + which such deeds were done. The clock struck twelve, and it seemed as if + it struck a thousand. + </p> + <p> + When they reached Hope’s door, she turned and put out her arms for Emilia, + as for a child. Every expression had now gone from Hope’s face but a sort + of stony calmness, which put her infinitely farther from Malbone than had + the momentary struggle. As he gave the girlish form into arms that shook + and trembled beneath its weight, he caught a glimpse in the pier-glass of + their two white faces, and then, looking down, saw the rose-tints yet + lingering on Emilia’s cheek. She, the source of all this woe, looked the + only representative of innocence between two guilty things. + </p> + <p> + How white and pure and maidenly looked Hope’s little room,—such a + home of peace, he thought, till its door suddenly opened to admit all this + passion and despair! There was a great sheaf of cardinal flowers on the + table, and their petals were drooping, as if reluctant to look on him. + Scheffer’s Christus Consolator was upon the walls, and the benign figure + seemed to spread wider its arms of mercy, to take in a few sad hearts + more. + </p> + <p> + Hope bore Emilia into the light and purity and warmth, while Malbone was + shut out into the darkness and the chill. The only two things to which he + clung on earth, the two women between whom his unsteady heart had + vibrated, and both whose lives had been tortured by its vacillation, went + away from his sight together, the one victim bearing the other victim in + her arms. Never any more while he lived would either of them be his again; + and had Dante known it for his last glimpse of things immortal when the + two lovers floated away from him in their sad embrace, he would have had + no such sense of utter banishment as had Malbone then. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. HOPE’S VIGIL. + </h2> + <p> + HAD Emilia chosen out of life’s whole armory of weapons the means of + disarming Hope, she could have found nothing so effectual as nature had + supplied in her unconsciousness. Helplessness conquers. There was a + quality in Emilia which would have always produced something very like + antagonism in Hope, had she not been her sister. Had the ungoverned girl + now been able to utter one word of reproach, had her eyes flashed one look + of defiance, had her hand made one triumphant or angry gesture, perhaps + all Hope’s outraged womanhood would have coldly nerved itself against her. + But it was another thing to see those soft eyes closed, those delicate + hands powerless, those pleading lips sealed; to see her extended in + graceful helplessness, while all the concentrated drama of emotion + revolved around her unheeded, as around Cordelia dead. In what realms was + that child’s mind seeking comfort; through what thin air of dreams did + that restless heart beat its pinions; in what other sphere did that + untamed nature wander, while shame and sorrow waited for its awakening in + this? + </p> + <p> + Hope knelt upon the floor, still too much strained and bewildered for + tears or even prayer, a little way from Emilia. Once having laid down the + unconscious form, it seemed for a moment as if she could no more touch it + than she could lay her hand amid flames. A gap of miles, of centuries, of + solar systems, seemed to separate these two young girls, alone within the + same chamber, with the same stern secret to keep, and so near that the hem + of their garments almost touched each other on the soft carpet. Hope felt + a terrible hardness closing over her heart. What right had this cruel + creature, with her fatal witcheries, to come between two persons who might + have been so wholly happy? What sorrow would be saved, what shame, + perhaps, be averted, should those sweet beguiling eyes never open, and + that perfidious voice never deceive any more? Why tend the life of one who + would leave the whole world happier, purer, freer, if she were dead? + </p> + <p> + In a tumult of thought, Hope went and sat half-unconsciously by the + window. There was nothing to be seen except the steady beacon of the + light-house and a pale-green glimmer, like an earthly star, from an + anchored vessel. The night wind came softly in, soothing her with a touch + like a mother’s, in its grateful coolness. The air seemed full of + half-vibrations, sub-noises, that crowded it as completely as do the + insect sounds of midsummer; yet she could only distinguish the ripple + beneath her feet, and the rote on the distant beach, and the busy wash of + waters against every shore and islet of the bay. The mist was thick around + her, but she knew that above it hung the sleepless stars, and the fancy + came over her that perhaps the whole vast interval, from ocean up to sky, + might be densely filled with the disembodied souls of her departed human + kindred, waiting to see how she would endure that path of grief in which + their steps had gone before. “It may be from this influence,” she vaguely + mused within herself, “that the ocean derives its endless song of sorrow. + Perhaps we shall know the meaning when we understand that of the stars, + and of our own sad lives.” + </p> + <p> + She rose again and went to the bedside. It all seemed like a dream, and + she was able to look at Emilia’s existence and at her own and at all else, + as if it were a great way off; as we watch the stars and know that no + speculations of ours can reach those who there live or die untouched. Here + beside her lay one who was dead, yet living, in her temporary trance, and + to what would she wake, when it should end? This young creature had been + sent into the world so fresh, so beautiful, so richly gifted; everything + about her physical organization was so delicate and lovely; she had seemed + like heliotrope, like a tube-rose in her purity and her passion (who was + it said, “No heart is pure that is not passionate”?); and here was the + end! Nothing external could have placed her where she was, no violence, no + outrage, no evil of another’s doing, could have reached her real life + without her own consent; and now what kind of existence, what career, what + possibility of happiness remained? Why could not God in his mercy take + her, and give her to his holiest angels for schooling, ere it was yet too + late? + </p> + <p> + Hope went and sat by the window once more. Her thoughts still clung + heavily around one thought, as the white fog clung round the house. Where + should she see any light? What opening for extrication, unless, indeed, + Emilia should die? There could be no harm in that thought, for she knew it + was not to be, and that the swoon would not last much longer. Who could + devise anything? No one. There was nothing. Almost always in perplexities + there is some thread by resolutely holding to which one escapes at last. + Here there was none. There could probably be no concealment, certainly no + explanation. In a few days John Lambert would return, and then the storm + must break. He was probably a stern, jealous man, whose very dulness, once + aroused, would be more formidable than if he had possessed keener + perceptions. + </p> + <p> + Still her thoughts did not dwell on Philip. He was simply a part of that + dull mass of pain that beset her and made her feel, as she had felt when + drowning, that her heart had left her breast and nothing but will + remained. She felt now, as then, the capacity to act with more than her + accustomed resolution, though all that was within her seemed boiling up + into her brain. As for Philip, all seemed a mere negation; there was a + vacuum where his place had been. At most the thought of him came to her as + some strange, vague thrill of added torture, penetrating her soul and then + passing; just as ever and anon there came the sound of the fog-whistle on + Brenton’s Reef, miles away, piercing the dull air with its shrill and + desolate wail, then dying into silence. + </p> + <p> + What a hopeless cloud lay upon them all forever,—upon Kate, upon + Harry, upon their whole house! Then there was John Lambert; how could they + keep it from him? how could they tell him? Who could predict what he would + say? Would he take the worst and coarsest view of his young wife’s mad + action or the mildest? Would he be strong or weak; and what would be + weakness, and what strength, in a position so strange? Would he put Emilia + from him, send her out in the world desolate, her soul stained but by one + wrong passion, yet with her reputation blighted as if there were no good + in her? Could he be asked to shield and protect her, or what would become + of her? She was legally a wife, and could only be separated from him + through convicted shame. + </p> + <p> + Then, if separated, she could only marry Philip. Hope nerved herself to + think of that, and it cost less effort than she expected. + </p> + <p> + There seemed a numbness on that side, instead of pain. But granting that + he loved Emilia ever so deeply, was he a man to surrender his life and his + ease and his fair name, in a hopeless effort to remove the ban that the + world would place on her. Hope knew he would not; knew that even the + simple-hearted and straightforward Harry would be far more capable of such + heroism than the sentimental Malbone. Here the pang suddenly struck her; + she was not so numb, after all! + </p> + <p> + As the leaves beside the window drooped motionless in the dank air, so her + mind drooped into a settled depression. She pitied herself,—that + lowest ebb of melancholy self-consciousness. She went back to Emilia, and, + seating herself, studied every line of the girl’s face, the soft texture + of her hair, the veining of her eyelids. They were so lovely, she felt a + sort of physical impulse to kiss them, as if they belonged to some utter + stranger, whom she might be nursing in a hospital. Emilia looked as + innocent as when Hope had tended her in the cradle. What is there, Hope + thought, in sleep, in trance, and in death, that removes all harsh or + disturbing impressions, and leaves only the most delicate and purest + traits? Does the mind wander, and does an angel keep its place? Or is + there really no sin but in thought, and are our sleeping thoughts + incapable of sin? Perhaps even when we dream of doing wrong, the dream + comes in a shape so lovely and misleading that we never recognize it for + evil, and it makes no stain. Are our lives ever so pure as our dreams? + </p> + <p> + This thought somehow smote across her conscience, always so strong, and + stirred it into a kind of spasm of introspection. “How selfish have I, + too, been!” she thought. “I saw only what I wished to see, did only what I + preferred. Loving Philip” (for the sudden self-reproach left her free to + think of him), “I could not see that I was separating him from one whom he + might perhaps have truly loved. If he made me blind, may he not easily + have bewildered her, and have been himself bewildered? How I tried to + force myself upon him, too! Ungenerous, unwomanly! What am I, that I + should judge another?” + </p> + <p> + She threw herself on her knees at the bedside. + </p> + <p> + Still Emilia slept, but now she stirred her head in the slightest possible + way, so that a single tress of silken hair slipped from its companions, + and lay across her face. It was a faint sign that the trance was waning; + the slight pressure disturbed her nerves, and her lips trembled once or + twice, as if to relieve themselves of the soft annoyance. Hope watched her + in a vague, distant way, took note of the minutest motion, yet as if some + vast weight hung upon her own limbs and made all interference impossible. + Still there was a fascination of sympathy in dwelling on that atom of + discomfort, that tiny suffering, which she alone could remove. The very + vastness of this tragedy that hung about the house made it an + inexpressible relief to her to turn and concentrate her thoughts for a + moment on this slight distress, so easily ended. + </p> + <p> + Strange, by what slender threads our lives are knitted to each other! Here + was one who had taken Hope’s whole existence in her hands, crushed it, and + thrown it away. Hope had soberly said to herself, just before, that death + would be better than life for her young sister. Yet now it moved her + beyond endurance to see that fair form troubled, even while unconscious, + by a feather’s weight of pain; and all the lifelong habit of tenderness + resumed in a moment its sway. + </p> + <p> + She approached her fingers to the offending tress, very slowly, half + withholding them at the very last, as if the touch would burn her. She was + almost surprised that it did not. She looked to see if it did not hurt + Emilia. But it now seemed as if the slumbering girl enjoyed the caressing + contact of the smooth fingers, and turned her head, almost imperceptibly, + to meet them. This was more than Hope could bear. It was as if that slight + motion were a puncture to relieve her overburdened heart; a thousand + thoughts swept over her,—of their father, of her sister’s childhood, + of her years of absent expectation; she thought how young the girl was, + how fascinating, how passionate, how tempted; all this swept across her in + a great wave of nervous reaction, and when Emilia returned to + consciousness, she was lying in her sister’s arms, her face bathed in + Hope’s tears. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. DE PROFUNDIS. + </h2> + <h3> + THIS was the history of Emilia’s concealed visits to Malbone. + </h3> + <p> + One week after her marriage, in a crisis of agony, Emilia took up her pen, + dipped it in fire, and wrote thus to him:— + </p> + <p> + “Philip Malbone, why did nobody ever tell me what marriage is where there + is no love? This man who calls himself my husband is no worse, I suppose, + than other men. It is only for being what is called by that name that I + abhor him. Good God! what am I to do? It was not for money that I married + him,—that you know very well; I cared no more for his money than for + himself. I thought it was the only way to save Hope. She has been very + good to me, and perhaps I should love her, if I could love anybody. Now I + have done what will only make more misery, for I cannot bear it. Philip, I + am alone in this wide world, except for you. Tell me what to do. I will + haunt you till you die, unless you tell me. Answer this, or I will write + again.” + </p> + <p> + Terrified by this letter, absolutely powerless to guide the life with + which he had so desperately entangled himself, Philip let one day pass + without answering, and that evening he found Emilia at his door, she + having glided unnoticed up the main stairway. She was so excited, it was + equally dangerous to send her away or to admit her, and he drew her in, + darkening the windows and locking the door. On the whole, it was not so + bad as he expected; at least, there was less violence and more despair. + She covered her face with her hands, and writhed in anguish, when she said + that she had utterly degraded herself by this loveless marriage. She + scarcely mentioned her husband. She made no complaint of him, and even + spoke of him as generous. It seemed as if this made it worse, and as if + she would be happier if she could expend herself in hating him. She spoke + of him rather as a mere witness to some shame for which she herself was + responsible; bearing him no malice, but tortured by the thought that he + should exist. + </p> + <p> + Then she turned on Malbone. “Philip, why did you ever interfere with my + life? I should have been very happy with Antoine if you had let me marry + him, for I never should have known what it was to love you. Oh! I wish he + were here now, even he,—any one who loved me truly, and whom I could + love only a little. I would go away with such a person anywhere, and never + trouble you and Hope any more. What shall I do? Philip, you might tell me + what to do. Once you told me always to come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What can you do?” he asked gloomily, in return. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot imagine,” she said, with a desolate look, more pitiable than + passion, on her young face. “I wish to save Hope, and to save my—to + save Mr. Lambert. Philip, you do not love me. I do not call it love. There + is no passion in your veins; it is only a sort of sympathetic selfishness. + Hope is infinitely better than you are, and I believe she is more capable + of loving. I began by hating her, but if she loves you as I think she + does, she has treated me more generously than ever one woman treated + another. For she could not look at me and not know that I loved you. I did + love you. O Philip, tell me what to do!” + </p> + <p> + Such beauty in anguish, the thrill of the possession of such love, the + possibility of soothing by tenderness the wild mood which he could not + meet by counsel,—it would have taken a stronger or less sympathetic + nature than Malbone’s to endure all this. It swept him away; this revival + of passion was irresistible. When her pent-up feeling was once uttered, + she turned to his love as a fancied salvation. It was a terrible remedy. + She had never looked more beautiful, and yet she seemed to have grown old + at once; her very caresses appeared to burn. She lingered and lingered, + and still he kept her there; and when it was no longer possible for her to + go without disturbing the house, he led her to a secret spiral stairway, + which went from attic to cellar of that stately old mansion, and which + opened by one or more doors on each landing, as his keen eye had found + out. Descending this, he went forth with her into the dark and silent + night. The mist hung around the house; the wet leaves fluttered and fell + upon their cheeks; the water lapped desolately against the pier. Philip + found a carriage and sent her back to Mrs. Meredith’s, where she was + staying during the brief absence of John Lambert. + </p> + <p> + These concealed meetings, once begun, became an absorbing excitement. She + came several times, staying half an hour, an hour, two hours. They were + together long enough for suffering, never long enough for soothing. It was + a poor substitute for happiness. Each time she came, Malbone wished that + she might never go or never return. His warier nature was feverish with + solicitude and with self-reproach; he liked the excitement of slight + risks, but this was far too intense, the vibrations too extreme. She, on + the other hand, rode triumphant over waves of passion which cowed him. He + dared not exclude her; he dared not continue to admit her; he dared not + free himself; he could not be happy. The privacy of the concealed stairway + saved them from outward dangers, but not from inward fears. Their + interviews were first blissful, then anxious, then sad, then stormy. It + was at the end of such a storm that Emilia had passed into one of those + deathly calms which belonged to her physical temperament; and it was under + these circumstances that Hope had followed Philip to the door. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE. + </h2> + <p> + THE thing that saves us from insanity during great grief is that there is + usually something to do, and the mind composes itself to the mechanical + task of adjusting the details. Hope dared not look forward an inch into + the future; that way madness lay. Fortunately, it was plain what must come + first,—to keep the whole thing within their own walls, and therefore + to make some explanation to Mrs. Meredith, whose servants had doubtless + been kept up all night awaiting Emilia. Profoundly perplexed what to say + or not to say to her, Hope longed with her whole soul for an adviser. + Harry and Kate were both away, and besides, she shrank from darkening + their young lives as hers had been darkened. She resolved to seek counsel + in the one person who most thoroughly distrusted Emilia,—Aunt Jane. + </p> + <p> + This lady was in a particularly happy mood that day. Emilia, who did all + kinds of fine needle-work exquisitely, had just embroidered for Aunt Jane + some pillow-cases. The original suggestion came from Hope, but it never + cost Emilia anything to keep a secret, and she had presented the gift very + sweetly, as if it were a thought of her own. Aunt Jane, who with all her + penetration as to facts was often very guileless as to motives, was + thoroughly touched by the humility and the embroidery. + </p> + <p> + “All last night,” she said, “I kept waking up, and thinking about + Christian charity and my pillow-cases.” + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, a very favorable day for Hope’s consultation, though it + was nearly noon before her aunt was visible, perhaps because it took so + long to make up her bed with the new adornments. + </p> + <p> + Hope said frankly to Aunt Jane that there were some circumstances about + which she should rather not be questioned, but that Emilia had come there + the previous night from the ball, had been seized with one of her peculiar + attacks, and had stayed all night. Aunt Jane kept her eyes steadily fixed + on Hope’s sad face, and, when the tale was ended, drew her down and kissed + her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Now tell me, dear,” she said; “what comes first?” + </p> + <p> + “The first thing is,” said Hope, “to have Emilia’s absence explained to + Mrs. Meredith in some such way that she will think no more of it, and not + talk about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Aunt Jane. “There is but one way to do that. I will call + on her myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You, auntie?” said Hope. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I,” said her aunt. “I have owed her a call for five years. It is the + only thing that will excite her so much as to put all else out of her + head.” + </p> + <p> + “O auntie!” said Hope, greatly relieved, “if you only would! But ought you + really to go out? It is almost raining.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go,” said Aunt Jane, decisively, “if it rains little boys!” + </p> + <p> + “But will not Mrs. Meredith wonder—?” began Hope. + </p> + <p> + “That is one advantage,” interrupted her aunt, “of being an absurd old + woman. Nobody ever wonders at anything I do, or else it is that they never + stop wondering.” + </p> + <p> + She sent Ruth erelong to order the horses. Hope collected her various + wrappers, and Ruth, returning, got her mistress into a state of + preparation. + </p> + <p> + “If I might say one thing more,” Hope whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said her aunt. “Ruth, go to my chamber, and get me a pin.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a pin, ma’am?” asked that meek handmaiden, from the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “What a question!” said her indignant mistress. “Any kind. The common pin + of North America. Now, Hope?” as the door closed. + </p> + <p> + “I think it better, auntie,” said Hope, “that Philip should not stay here + longer at present. You can truly say that the house is full, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I have just had a note from him,” said Aunt Jane severely. “He has gone + to lodge at the hotel. What next?” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Jane,” said Hope, looking her full in the face, “I have not the + slightest idea what to do next.” + </p> + <p> + (“The next thing for me,” thought her aunt, “is to have a little plain + speech with that misguided child upstairs.”) + </p> + <p> + “I can see no way out,” pursued Hope. + </p> + <p> + “Darling!” said Aunt Jane, with a voice full of womanly sweetness, “there + is always a way out, or else the world would have stopped long ago. + Perhaps it would have been better if it had stopped, but you see it has + not. All we can do is, to live on and try our best.” + </p> + <p> + She bade Hope leave Emilia to her, and furthermore stipulated that Hope + should go to her pupils as usual, that afternoon, as it was their last + lesson. The young girl shrank from the effort, but the elder lady was + inflexible. She had her own purpose in it. Hope once out of the way, Aunt + Jane could deal with Emilia. + </p> + <p> + No human being, when met face to face with Aunt Jane, had ever failed to + yield up to her the whole truth she sought. Emilia was on that day no + exception. She was prostrate, languid, humble, denied nothing, was ready + to concede every point but one. Never, while she lived, would she dwell + beneath John Lambert’s roof again. She had left it impulsively, she + admitted, scarce knowing what she did. But she would never return there to + live. She would go once more and see that all was in order for Mr. + Lambert, both in the house and on board the yacht, where they were to have + taken up their abode for a time. There were new servants in the house, a + new captain on the yacht; she would trust Mr. Lambert’s comfort to none of + them; she would do her full duty. Duty! the more utterly she felt herself + to be gliding away from him forever, the more pains she was ready to + lavish in doing these nothings well. About every insignificant article he + owned she seemed to feel the most scrupulous and wife-like responsibility; + while she yet knew that all she had was to him nothing, compared with the + possession of herself; and it was the thought of this last ownership that + drove her to despair. + </p> + <p> + Sweet and plaintive as the child’s face was, it had a glimmer of wildness + and a hunted look, that baffled Aunt Jane a little, and compelled her to + temporize. She consented that Emilia should go to her own house, on + condition that she would not see Philip,—which was readily and even + eagerly promised,—and that Hope should spend the night with Emilia, + which proposal was ardently accepted. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to Aunt Jane that nothing better could happen than for John + Lambert, on returning, to find his wife at home; and to secure this + result, if possible, she telegraphed to him to come at once. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Hope gave her inevitable music-lesson, so absorbed in her own + thoughts that it was all as mechanical as the metronome. As she came out + upon the Avenue for the walk home, she saw a group of people from a + gardener’s house, who had collected beside a muddy crossing, where a team + of cart-horses had refused to stir. Presently they sprang forward with a + great jerk, and a little Irish child was thrown beneath the wheel. Hope + sprang forward to grasp the child, and the wheel struck her also; but she + escaped with a dress torn and smeared, while the cart passed over the + little girl’s arm, breaking it in two places. She screamed and then grew + faint, as Hope lifted her. The mother received the burden with a wail of + anguish; the other Irishwomen pressed around her with the dense and + suffocating sympathy of their nation. Hope bade one and another run for a + physician, but nobody stirred. There was no surgical aid within a mile or + more. Hope looked round in despair, then glanced at her own disordered + garments. + </p> + <p> + “As sure as you live!” shouted a well-known voice from a carriage which + had stopped behind them. “If that isn’t Hope what’s-her-name, wish I may + never! Here’s a lark! Let me come there!” And the speaker pushed through + the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Ingleside,” said Hope, decisively, “this child’s arm is broken. + There is nobody to go for a physician. Except for the condition I am in, I + would ask you to take me there at once in your carriage; but as it is—” + </p> + <p> + “As it is, I must ask you, hey?” said Blanche, finishing the sentence. “Of + course. No mistake. Sans dire. Jones, junior, this lady will join us. + Don’t look so scared, man. Are you anxious about your cushions or your + reputation?” + </p> + <p> + The youth simpered and disclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Jump in, then, Miss Maxwell. Never mind the expense. It’s only the family + carriage;—surname and arms of Jones. Lucky there are no parents to + the fore. Put my shawl over you, so.” + </p> + <p> + “O Blanche!” said Hope, “what injustice—” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve done myself?” said the volatile damsel. “Not a doubt of it. That’s + my style, you know. But I have some sense; I know who’s who. Now, Jones, + junior, make your man handle the ribbons. I’ve always had a grudge against + that ordinance about fast driving, and now’s our chance.” + </p> + <p> + And the sacred “ordinance,” with all other proprieties, was left in ruins + that day. They tore along the Avenue with unexplained and most + inexplicable speed, Hope being concealed by riding backward, and by a + large shawl, and Blanche and her admirer receiving the full indignation of + every chaste and venerable eye. Those who had tolerated all this girl’s + previous improprieties were obliged to admit that the line must be drawn + somewhere. She at once lost several good invitations and a matrimonial + offer, since Jones, junior, was swept away by his parents to be wedded + without delay to a consumptive heiress who had long pined for his + whiskers; and Count Posen, in his Souvenirs, was severer on Blanche’s one + good deed than on the worst of her follies. + </p> + <p> + A few years after, when Blanche, then the fearless wife of a regular-army + officer, was helping Hope in the hospitals at Norfolk, she would stop to + shout with delight over the reminiscence of that stately Jones equipage in + mad career, amid the barking of dogs and the groaning of dowagers. “After + all, Hope,” she would say, “the fastest thing I ever did was under your + orders.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. A STORM. + </h2> + <p> + THE members of the household were all at the window about noon, next day, + watching the rise of a storm. A murky wing of cloud, shaped like a hawk’s, + hung over the low western hills across the bay. Then the hawk became an + eagle, and the eagle a gigantic phantom, that hovered over half the + visible sky. Beneath it, a little scud of vapor, moved by some + cross-current of air, raced rapidly against the wind, just above the + horizon, like smoke from a battle-field. + </p> + <p> + As the cloud ascended, the water grew rapidly blacker, and in half an hour + broke into jets of white foam, all over its surface, with an angry look. + Meantime a white film of fog spread down the bay from the northward. The + wind hauled from southwest to northwest, so suddenly and strongly that all + the anchored boats seemed to have swung round instantaneously, without + visible process. The instant the wind shifted, the rain broke forth, + filling the air in a moment with its volume, and cutting so sharply that + it seemed like hail, though no hailstones reached the ground. At the same + time there rose upon the water a dense white film, which seemed to grow + together from a hundred different directions, and was made partly of rain, + and partly of the blown edges of the spray. There was but a glimpse of + this; for in a few moments it was impossible to see two rods; but when the + first gust was over, the water showed itself again, the jets of spray all + beaten down, and regular waves, of dull lead-color, breaking higher on the + shore. All the depth of blackness had left the sky, and there remained + only an obscure and ominous gray, through which the lightning flashed + white, not red. Boats came driving in from the mouth of the bay with a rag + of sail up; the men got them moored with difficulty, and when they sculled + ashore in the skiffs, a dozen comrades stood ready to grasp and haul them + in. Others launched skiffs in sheltered places, and pulled out bareheaded + to bail out their fishing-boats and keep them from swamping at their + moorings. + </p> + <p> + The shore was thronged with men in oilskin clothes and by women with + shawls over their heads. Aunt Jane, who always felt responsible for + whatever went on in the elements, sat in-doors with one lid closed, + wincing at every flash, and watching the universe with the air of a + coachman guiding six wild horses. + </p> + <p> + Just after the storm had passed its height, two veritable wild horses were + reined up at the door, and Philip burst in, his usual self-composure gone. + </p> + <p> + “Emilia is out sailing!” he exclaimed,—“alone with Lambert’s + boatman, in this gale. They say she was bound for Narragansett.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” cried Hope, turning pale. “I left her not three hours ago.” + Then she remembered that Emilia had spoken of going on board the yacht, to + superintend some arrangements, but had said no more about it, when she + opposed it. + </p> + <p> + “Harry!” said Aunt Jane, quickly, from her chair by the window, “see that + fisherman. He has just come ashore and is telling something. Ask him.” + </p> + <p> + The fisherman had indeed seen Lambert’s boat, which was well known. + Something seemed to be the matter with the sail, but before the storm + struck her, it had been hauled down. They must have taken in water enough, + as it was. He had himself been obliged to bail out three times, running in + from the reef. + </p> + <p> + “Was there any landing which they could reach?” Harry asked. + </p> + <p> + There was none,—but the light-ship lay right in their track, and if + they had good luck, they might get aboard of her. + </p> + <p> + “The boatman?” said Philip, anxiously,—“Mr. Lambert’s boatman; is he + a good sailor?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know,” was the reply. “Stranger here. Dutchman, Frenchman, + Portegee, or some kind of a foreigner.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to understand himself in a boat,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Malbone knows him,” said a third. “The same that dove with the young + woman under the steamboat paddles.” + </p> + <p> + “Good grit,” said the first. + </p> + <p> + “That’s so,” was the answer. “But grit don’t teach a man the channel.” + </p> + <p> + All agreed to this axiom; but as there was so strong a probability that + the voyagers had reached the light-ship, there seemed less cause for fear. + </p> + <p> + The next question was, whether it was possible to follow them. All agreed + that it would be foolish for any boat to attempt it, till the wind had + blown itself out, which might be within half an hour. After that, some + predicted a calm, some a fog, some a renewal of the storm; there was the + usual variety of opinions. At any rate, there might perhaps be an interval + during which they could go out, if the gentlemen did not mind a wet + jacket. + </p> + <p> + Within the half-hour came indeed an interval of calm, and a light shone + behind the clouds from the west. It faded soon into a gray fog, with puffs + of wind from the southwest again. When the young men went out with the + boatmen, the water had grown more quiet, save where angry little gusts + ruffled it. But these gusts made it necessary to carry a double reef, and + they made but little progress against wind and tide. + </p> + <p> + A dark-gray fog, broken by frequent wind-flaws, makes the ugliest of all + days on the water. A still, pale fog is soothing; it lulls nature to a + kind of repose. But a windy fog with occasional sunbeams and sudden films + of metallic blue breaking the leaden water,—this carries an + impression of something weird and treacherous in the universe, and + suggests caution. + </p> + <p> + As the boat floated on, every sight and sound appeared strange. The music + from the fort came sudden and startling through the vaporous eddies. A + tall white schooner rose instantaneously near them, like a light-house. + They could see the steam of the factory floating low, seeking some outlet + between cloud and water. As they drifted past a wharf, the great black + piles of coal hung high and gloomy; then a stray sunbeam brought out their + peacock colors; then came the fog again, driving hurriedly by, as if + impatient to go somewhere and enraged at the obstacle. It seemed to have a + vast inorganic life of its own, a volition and a whim. It drew itself + across the horizon like a curtain; then advanced in trampling armies up + the bay; then marched in masses northward; then suddenly grew thin, and + showed great spaces of sunlight; then drifted across the low islands, like + long tufts of wool; then rolled itself away toward the horizon; then + closed in again, pitiless and gray. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly something vast towered amid the mist above them. It was the + French war-ship returned to her anchorage once more, and seeming in that + dim atmosphere to be something spectral and strange that had taken form + out of the elements. The muzzles of great guns rose tier above tier, along + her side; great boats hung one above another, on successive pairs of + davits, at her stern. So high was her hull, that the topmost boat and the + topmost gun appeared to be suspended in middle air; and yet this was but + the beginning of her altitude. Above these were the heavy masts, seen + dimly through the mist; between these were spread eight dark lines of + sailors’ clothes, which, with the massive yards above, looked like part of + some ponderous framework built to reach the sky. This prolongation of the + whole dark mass toward the heavens had a portentous look to those who + gazed from below; and when the denser fog sometimes furled itself away + from the topgallant masts, hitherto invisible, and showed them rising + loftier yet, and the tricolor at the mizzen-mast-head looking down as if + from the zenith, then they all seemed to appertain to something of more + than human workmanship; a hundred wild tales of phantom vessels came up to + the imagination, and it was as if that one gigantic structure were + expanding to fill all space from sky to sea. + </p> + <p> + They were swept past it; the fog closed in; it was necessary to land near + the Fort, and proceed on foot. They walked across the rough peninsula, + while the mist began to disperse again, and they were buoyant with + expectation. As they toiled onward, the fog suddenly met them at the turn + of a lane where it had awaited them, like an enemy. As they passed into + those gray and impalpable arms, the whole world changed again. + </p> + <p> + They walked toward the sound of the sea. As they approached it, the dull + hue that lay upon it resembled that of the leaden sky. The two elements + could hardly be distinguished except as the white outlines of the + successive breakers were lifted through the fog. The lines of surf + appeared constantly to multiply upon the beach, and yet, on counting them, + there were never any more. Sometimes, in the distance, masses of foam rose + up like a wall where the horizon ought to be; and, as the coming waves + took form out of the unseen, it seemed as if no phantom were too vast or + shapeless to come rolling in upon their dusky shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Presently a frail gleam of something like the ghost of dead sunshine made + them look toward the west. Above the dim roofs of Castle Hill + mansion-house, the sinking sun showed luridly through two rifts of cloud, + and then the swift motion of the nearer vapor veiled both sun and cloud, + and banished them into almost equal remoteness. + </p> + <p> + Leaving the beach on their right, and passing the high rocks of the + Pirate’s Cave, they presently descended to the water’s edge once more. The + cliffs rose to a distorted height in the dimness; sprays of withered grass + nodded along the edge, like Ossian’s spectres. Light seemed to be + vanishing from the universe, leaving them alone with the sea. And when a + solitary loon uttered his wild cry, and rising, sped away into the + distance, it was as if life were following light into an equal + annihilation. That sense of vague terror, with which the ocean sometimes + controls the fancy, began to lay its grasp on them. They remembered that + Emilia, in speaking once of her intense shrinking from death, had said + that the sea was the only thing from which she would not fear to meet it. + </p> + <p> + Fog exaggerates both for eye and ear; it is always a sounding-board for + the billows; and in this case, as often happens, the roar did not appear + to proceed from the waves themselves, but from some source in the unseen + horizon, as if the spectators were shut within a beleaguered fortress, and + this thundering noise came from an impetuous enemy outside. Ever and anon + there was a distinct crash of heavier sound, as if some special barricade + had at length been beaten in, and the garrison must look to their inner + defences. + </p> + <p> + The tide was unusually high, and scarcely receded with the ebb, though the + surf increased; the waves came in with constant rush and wail, and with an + ominous rattle of pebbles on the little beaches, beneath the powerful + suction of the undertow; and there were more and more of those muffled + throbs along the shore which tell of coming danger as plainly as + minute-guns. With these came mingled that yet more inexplicable humming + which one hears at intervals in such times, like strains of music caught + and tangled in the currents of stormy air,—strains which were + perhaps the filmy thread on which tales of sirens and mermaids were first + strung, and in which, at this time, they would fain recognize the voice of + Emilia. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. + </h2> + <p> + AS the night closed in, the wind rose steadily, still blowing from the + southwest. In Brenton’s kitchen they found a group round a great fire of + driftwood; some of these were fishermen who had with difficulty made a + landing on the beach, and who confirmed the accounts already given. The + boat had been seen sailing for the Narragansett shore, and when the squall + came, the boatman had lowered and reefed the sail, and stood for the + light-ship. They must be on board of her, if anywhere. + </p> + <p> + “There are safe there?” asked Philip, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Only place where they would be safe, then,” said the spokesman. + </p> + <p> + “Unless the light-ship parts,” said an old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Parts!” said the other. “Sixty fathom of two-inch chain, and old Joe + talks about parting.” + </p> + <p> + “Foolish, of course,” said Philip; “but it’s a dangerous shore.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s so,” was the answer. “Never saw so many lines of reef show + outside, neither.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s an old saying on this shore,” said Joe:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When Price’s Neck goes to Brenton’s Reef, + Body and soul will come to grief. + But when Brenton’s Reef comes to Price’s Neck, + Soul and body are both a wreck.” + </pre> + <p> + “What does it mean?” asked Harry. + </p> + <p> + “It only means,” said somebody, “that when you see it white all the way + out from the Neck to the Reef, you can’t take the inside passage.” + </p> + <p> + “But what does the last half mean?” persisted Harry. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know as I know,” said the veteran, and relapsed into silence, in + which all joined him, while the wind howled and whistled outside, and the + barred windows shook. + </p> + <p> + Weary and restless with vain waiting, they looked from the doorway at the + weather. The door went back with a slam, and the gust swooped down on them + with that special blast that always seems to linger just outside on such + nights, ready for the first head that shows itself. They closed the door + upon the flickering fire and the uncouth shadows within, and went forth + into the night. At first the solid blackness seemed to lay a weight on + their foreheads. There was absolutely nothing to be seen but the two + lights of the light-ship, glaring from the dark sea like a wolf’s eyes + from a cavern. They looked nearer and brighter than in ordinary nights, + and appeared to the excited senses of the young men to dance strangely on + the waves, and to be always opposite to them, as they moved along the + shore with the wind almost at their backs. + </p> + <p> + “What did that old fellow mean?” said Malbone in Harry’s ear, as they came + to a protected place and could hear each other, “by talking of Brenton’s + Reef coming to Price’s Neck.” + </p> + <p> + “Some sailor’s doggerel,” said Harry, indifferently. “Here is Price’s Neck + before us, and yonder is Brenton’s Reef.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” said Philip, looking round bewildered. + </p> + <p> + The lights had gone, as if the wolf, weary of watching, had suddenly + closed his eyes, and slumbered in his cave. + </p> + <p> + Harry trembled and shivered. In Heaven’s name, what could this + disappearance mean? + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a sheet of lightning came, so white and intense, it sent its + light all the way out to the horizon and exhibited far-off vessels, that + reeled and tossed and looked as if wandering without a guide. But this was + not so startling as what it showed in the foreground. + </p> + <p> + There drifted heavily upon the waves, within full view from the shore, + moving parallel to it, yet gradually approaching, an uncouth shape that + seemed a vessel and yet not a vessel; two stunted masts projected above, + and below there could be read, in dark letters that apparently swayed and + trembled in the wan lightning, as the thing moved on, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + BRENTON’S REEF. +</pre> + <p> + Philip, leaning against a rock, gazed into the darkness where the + apparition had been; even Harry felt a thrill of half-superstitious + wonder, and listened half mechanically to a rough sailor’s voice at his + ear:— + </p> + <p> + “God! old Joe was right. There’s one wreck that is bound to make many. The + light-ship has parted.” + </p> + <p> + “Drifting ashore,” said Harry, his accustomed clearness of head coming + back at a flash. “Where will she strike?” + </p> + <p> + “Price’s Neck,” said the sailor. + </p> + <p> + Harry turned to Philip and spoke to him, shouting in his ear the + explanation. Malbone’s lips moved mechanically, but he said nothing. + Passively, he let Harry take him by the arm, and lead him on. + </p> + <p> + Following the sailor, they rounded a projecting point, and found + themselves a little sheltered from the wind. Not knowing the region, they + stumbled about among the rocks, and scarcely knew when they neared the + surf, except when a wave came swashing round their very feet. Pausing at + the end of a cove, they stood beside their conductor, and their eyes, now + grown accustomed, could make out vaguely the outlines of the waves. + </p> + <p> + The throat of the cove was so shoal and narrow, and the mass of the waves + so great, that they reared their heads enormously, just outside, and + spending their strength there, left a lower level within the cove. Yet + sometimes a series of great billows would come straight on, heading + directly for the entrance, and then the surface of the water within was + seen to swell suddenly upward as if by a terrible inward magic of its own; + it rose and rose, as if it would ingulf everything; then as rapidly sank, + and again presented a mere quiet vestibule before the excluded waves. + </p> + <p> + They saw in glimpses, as the lightning flashed, the shingly beach, covered + with a mass of creamy foam, all tremulous and fluctuating in the wind; and + this foam was constantly torn away by the gale in great shreds, that + whirled by them as if the very fragments of the ocean were fleeing from it + in terror, to take refuge in the less frightful element of air. + </p> + <p> + Still the wild waves reared their heads, like savage, crested animals, now + white, now black, looking in from the entrance of the cove. And now there + silently drifted upon them something higher, vaster, darker than + themselves,—the doomed vessel. It was strange how slowly and + steadily she swept in,—for her broken chain-cable dragged, as it + afterwards proved, and kept her stern-on to the shore,—and they + could sometimes hear amid the tumult a groan that seemed to come from the + very heart of the earth, as she painfully drew her keel over hidden reefs. + Over five of these (as was afterwards found) she had already drifted, and + she rose and fell more than once on the high waves at the very mouth of + the cove, like a wild bird hovering ere it pounces. + </p> + <p> + Then there came one of those great confluences of waves described already, + which, lifting her bodily upward, higher and higher and higher, suddenly + rushed with her into the basin, filling it like an opened dry-dock, + crashing and roaring round the vessel and upon the rocks, then sweeping + out again and leaving her lodged, still stately and steady, at the centre + of the cove. + </p> + <p> + They could hear from the crew a mingled sound, that came as a shout of + excitement from some and a shriek of despair from others. The vivid + lightning revealed for a moment those on shipboard to those on shore; and + blinding as it was, it lasted long enough to show figures gesticulating + and pointing. The old sailor, Mitchell, tried to build a fire among the + rocks nearest the vessel, but it was impossible, because of the wind. This + was a disappointment, for the light would have taken away half the danger, + and more than half the terror. Though the cove was more quiet than the + ocean, yet it was fearful enough, even there. The vessel might hold + together till morning, but who could tell? It was almost certain that + those on board would try to land, and there was nothing to do but to await + the effort. The men from the farmhouse had meanwhile come down with ropes. + </p> + <p> + It was simply impossible to judge with any accuracy of the distance of the + ship. One of these new-comers, who declared that she was lodged very near, + went to a point of rocks, and shouted to those on board to heave him a + rope. The tempest suppressed his voice, as it had put out the fire. But + perhaps the lightning had showed him to the dark figures on the stern; for + when the next flash came, they saw a rope flung, which fell short. The + real distance was more than a hundred yards. + </p> + <p> + Then there was a long interval of darkness. The moment the next flash came + they saw a figure let down by a rope from the stern of the vessel, while + the hungry waves reared like wolves to seize it. Everybody crowded down to + the nearest rocks, looking this way and that for a head to appear. They + pressed eagerly in every direction where a bit of plank or a barrel-head + floated; they fancied faint cries here and there, and went aimlessly to + and fro. A new effort, after half a dozen failures, sent a blaze mounting + up fitfully among the rocks, startling all with the sudden change its + blessed splendor made. Then a shrill shout from one of the watchers + summoned all to a cleft in the cove, half shaded from the firelight, where + there came rolling in amidst the surf, more dead than alive, the body of a + man. He was the young foreigner, John Lambert’s boatman. He bore still + around him the rope that was to save the rest. + </p> + <p> + How pale and eager their faces looked as they bent above him! But the + eagerness was all gone from his, and only the pallor left. While the + fishermen got the tackle rigged, such as it was, to complete the + communication with the vessel, the young men worked upon the boatman, and + soon had him restored to consciousness. He was able to explain that the + ship had been severely strained, and that all on board believed she would + go to pieces before morning. No one would risk being the first to take the + water, and he had at last volunteered, as being the best swimmer, on + condition that Emilia should be next sent, when the communication was + established. + </p> + <p> + Two ropes were then hauled on board the vessel, a larger and a smaller. By + the flickering firelight and the rarer flashes of lightning (the rain now + falling in torrents) they saw a hammock slung to the larger rope; a + woman’s form was swathed in it; and the smaller rope being made fast to + this, they found by pulling that she could be drawn towards the shore. + Those on board steadied the hammock as it was lowered from the ship, but + the waves seemed maddened by this effort to escape their might, and they + leaped up at her again and again. The rope dropped beneath her weight, and + all that could be done from shore was to haul her in as fast as possible, + to abbreviate the period of buffeting and suffocation. As she neared the + rocks she could be kept more safe from the water; faster and faster she + was drawn in; sometimes there came some hitch and stoppage, but by steady + patience it was overcome. + </p> + <p> + She was so near the rocks that hands were already stretched to grasp her, + when there came one of the great surging waves that sometimes filled the + basin. It gave a terrible lurch to the stranded vessel hitherto so erect; + the larger rope snapped instantly; the guiding rope was twitched from the + hands that held it; and the canvas that held Emilia was caught and swept + away like a shred of foam, and lost amid the whiteness of the seething + froth below. Fifteen minutes after, the hammock came ashore empty, the + lashings having parted. + </p> + <p> + The cold daybreak was just opening, though the wind still blew keenly, + when they found the body of Emilia. It was swathed in a roll of sea-weed, + lying in the edge of the surf, on a broad, flat rock near where the young + boatman had come ashore. The face was not disfigured; the clothing was + only torn a little, and tangled closely round her; but the life was gone. + </p> + <p> + It was Philip who first saw her; and he stood beside her for a moment + motionless, stunned into an aspect of tranquility. This, then, was the + end. All his ready sympathy, his wooing tenderness, his winning + compliances, his self-indulgent softness, his perilous amiability, his + reluctance to give pain or to see sorrow,—all had ended in this. For + once, he must force even his accommodating and evasive nature to meet the + plain, blank truth. Now all his characteristics appeared changed by the + encounter; it was Harry who was ready, thoughtful, attentive,—while + Philip, who usually had all these traits, was paralyzed among his dreams. + Could he have fancied such a scene beforehand, he would have vowed that no + hand but his should touch the breathless form of Emilia. As it was, he + instinctively made way for the quick gathering of the others, as if almost + any one else had a better right to be there. + </p> + <p> + The storm had blown itself out by sunrise; the wind had shifted, beating + down the waves; it seemed as if everything in nature were exhausted. The + very tide had ebbed away. The light-ship rested between the rocks, + helpless, still at the mercy of the returning waves, and yet still upright + and with that stately look of unconscious pleading which all shipwrecked + vessels wear, it is wonderfully like the look I have seen in the face of + some dead soldier, on whom war had done its worst. Every line of a ship is + so built for motion, every part, while afloat, seems so full of life and + so answering to the human life it bears, that this paralysis of shipwreck + touches the imagination as if the motionless thing had once been animated + by a soul. + </p> + <p> + And not far from the vessel, in a chamber of the seaside farm-house, lay + the tenderer and fairer wreck of Emilia. Her storms and her passions were + ended. The censure of the world, the anguish of friends, the clinging arms + of love, were nothing now to her. Again the soft shelter of + unconsciousness had clasped her in; but this time the trance was longer + and the faintness was unto death. + </p> + <p> + From the moment of her drifting ashore, it was the young boatman who had + assumed the right to care for her and to direct everything. Philip seemed + stunned; Harry was his usual clear-headed and efficient self; but to his + honest eyes much revealed itself in a little while; and when Hope arrived + in the early morning, he said to her, “This boatman, who once saved your + life, is Emilia’s Swiss lover, Antoine Marval.” + </p> + <p> + “More than lover,” said the young Swiss, overhearing. “She was my wife + before God, when you took her from me. In my country, a betrothal is as + sacred as a marriage. Then came that man, he filled her heart with + illusions, and took her away in my absence. When my brother was here in + the corvette, he found her for me. Then I came for her; I saved her + sister; then I saw the name on the card and would not give my own. I + became her servant. She saw me in the yacht, only once; she knew me; she + was afraid. Then she said, ‘Perhaps I still love you,—a little; I do + not know; I am in despair; take me from this home I hate.’ We sailed that + day in the small boat for Narragansett,—I know not where. She hardly + looked up or spoke; but for me, I cared for nothing since she was with me. + When the storm came, she was frightened, and said, ‘It is a retribution.’ + I said, ‘You shall never go back.’ She never did. Here she is. You cannot + take her from me.” + </p> + <p> + Once on board the light-ship, she had been assigned the captain’s + state-room, while Antoine watched at the door. She seemed to shrink from + him whenever he went to speak to her, he owned, but she answered kindly + and gently, begging to be left alone. When at last the vessel parted her + moorings, he persuaded Emilia to come on deck and be lashed to the mast, + where she sat without complaint. + </p> + <p> + Who can fathom the thoughts of that bewildered child, as she sat amid the + spray and the howling of the blast, while the doomed vessel drifted on + with her to the shore? Did all the error and sorrow of her life pass + distinctly before her? Or did the roar of the surf lull her into quiet, + like the unconscious kindness of wild creatures that toss and bewilder + their prey into unconsciousness ere they harm it? None can tell. Death + answers no questions; it only makes them needless. + </p> + <p> + The morning brought to the scene John Lambert, just arrived by land from + New York. + </p> + <p> + The passion of John Lambert for his wife was of that kind which ennobles + while it lasts, but which rarely outlasts marriage. A man of such + uncongenial mould will love an enchanting woman with a mad, absorbing + passion, where self-sacrifice is so mingled with selfishness that the two + emotions seem one; he will hungrily yearn to possess her, to call her by + his own name, to hold her in his arms, to kill any one else who claims + her. But when she is once his wife, and his arms hold a body without a + soul,—no soul at least for him,—then her image is almost + inevitably profaned, and the passion which began too high for earth ends + far too low for heaven. Let now death change that form to marble, and + instantly it resumes its virgin holiness; though the presence of life did + not sanctify, its departure does. It is only the true lover to whom the + breathing form is as sacred as the breathless. + </p> + <p> + That ideality of nature which love had developed in this man, and which + had already drooped a little during his brief period of marriage, was born + again by the side of death. While Philip wandered off silent and lonely + with his grief, John Lambert knelt by the beautiful remains, talking + inarticulately, his eyes streaming with unchecked tears. Again was Emilia, + in her marble paleness, the calm centre of a tragedy she herself had + caused. The wild, ungoverned child was the image of peace; it was the + stolid and prosperous man who was in the storm. It was not till Hope came + that there was any change. Then his prostrate nature sought hers, as the + needle leaps to the iron; the first touch of her hand, the sight of her + kiss upon Emilia’s forehead, made him strong. It was the thorough + subjection of a worldly man to the higher organization of a noble woman, + and thenceforth it never varied. In later years, after he had foolishly + sought, as men will, to win her to a nearer tie, there was no moment when + she had not full control over his time, his energies, and his wealth. + </p> + <p> + After it was all ended, Hope told him everything that had happened; but in + that wild moment of his despair she told him nothing. Only she and Harry + knew the story of the young Swiss; and now that Emilia was gone, her early + lover had no wish to speak of her to any but these two, or to linger long + where she had been doubly lost to him, by marriage and by death. The + world, with all its prying curiosity, usually misses the key to the very + incidents about which it asks most questions; and of the many who gossiped + or mourned concerning Emilia, none knew the tragic complication which her + death alone could have solved. The breaking of Hope’s engagement to Philip + was attributed to every cause but the true one. And when the storm of the + great Rebellion broke over the land, its vast calamity absorbed all minor + griefs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. REQUIESCAT. + </h2> + <p> + THANK God! it is not within the power of one man’s errors to blight the + promise of a life like that of Hope. It is but a feeble destiny that is + wrecked by passion, when it should be ennobled. Aunt Jane and Kate watched + Hope closely during her years of probation, for although she fancied + herself to be keeping her own counsel, yet her career lay in broad light + for them. She was like yonder sailboat, which floats conspicuous by night + amid the path of moonbeams, and which yet seems to its own voyagers to be + remote and unseen upon a waste of waves. + </p> + <p> + Why should I linger over the details of her life, after the width of ocean + lay between her and Malbone, and a manhood of self-denying usefulness had + begun to show that even he could learn something by life’s retributions? + We know what she was, and it is of secondary importance where she went or + what she did. Kindle the light of the light-house, and it has nothing to + do, except to shine. There is for it no wrong direction. There is no need + to ask, “How? Over which especial track of distant water must my light go + forth, to find the wandering vessel to be guided in?” It simply shines. + Somewhere there is a ship that needs it, or if not, the light does its + duty. So did Hope. + </p> + <p> + We must leave her here. Yet I cannot bear to think of her as passing + through earthly life without tasting its deepest bliss, without the last + pure ecstasy of human love, without the kisses of her own children on her + lips, their waxen fingers on her bosom. + </p> + <p> + And yet again, is this life so long? May it not be better to wait until + its little day is done, and the summer night of old age has yielded to a + new morning, before attaining that acme of joy? Are there enough + successive grades of bliss for all eternity, if so much be consummated + here? Must all novels end with an earthly marriage, and nothing be left + for heaven? + </p> + <p> + Perhaps, for such as Hope, this life is given to show what happiness might + be, and they await some other sphere for its fulfilment. The greater part + of the human race live out their mortal years without attaining more than + a far-off glimpse of the very highest joy. Were this life all, its very + happiness were sadness. If, as I doubt not, there be another sphere, then + that which is unfulfilled in this must yet find completion, nothing + omitted, nothing denied. And though a thousand oracles should pronounce + this thought an idle dream, neither Hope nor I would believe them. + </p> + <p> + It was a radiant morning of last February when I walked across the low + hills to the scene of the wreck. Leaving the road before reaching the + Fort, I struck across the wild moss-country, full of boulders and + footpaths and stunted cedars and sullen ponds. I crossed the height of + land, where the ruined lookout stands like the remains of a Druidical + temple, and then went down toward the ocean. Banks and ridges of snow lay + here and there among the fields, and the white lines of distant capes + seemed but drifts running seaward. The ocean was gloriously alive,—the + blackest blue, with white caps on every wave; the shore was all snowy, and + the gulls were flying back and forth in crowds; you could not tell whether + they were the white waves coming ashore, or bits of snow going to sea. A + single fragment of ship-timber, black with time and weeds, and crusty with + barnacles, heaved to and fro in the edge of the surf, and two fishermen’s + children, a boy and girl, tilted upon it as it moved, clung with the + semblance of terror to each other, and played at shipwreck. + </p> + <p> + The rocks were dark with moisture, steaming in the sun. Great sheets of + ice, white masks of departing winter, clung to every projecting cliff, or + slid with crash and shiver into the surge. Icicles dropped their slow and + reverberating tears upon the rock where Emilia once lay breathless; and it + seemed as if their cold, chaste drops were sent to cleanse from her memory + each scarlet stain, and leave it virginal and pure. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + +***** This file should be named 993-h.htm or 993-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/993/ + +Produced by Judy Boss, and David Widger + +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. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Malbone + An Oldport Romance + +Author: Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +Posting Date: July 27, 2008 [EBook #993] +Release Date: July 1997 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss + + + + + +MALBONE + +AN OLDPORT ROMANCE. + + +By Thomas Wentworth Higginson + + + "What is Nature unless there is an eventful human life + passing within her? + + Many joys and many sorrows are the lights and shadows in + which she shows most beautiful." + + --THOREAU, MS. Diary. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PRELUDE + I. AN ARRIVAL + II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE + IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION + V. A MULTIVALVE HEART + VI. "SOME LOVER'S CLEAR DAY" + VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION + VIII. TALKING IT OVER + IX. DANGEROUS WAYS + X. REMONSTRANCES + XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI + XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT + XIII. DREAMING DREAMS + XIV. THE NEMESIS OF FASHION + XV. ACROSS THE BAY + XVI. ON THE STAIRS + XVII. DISCOVERY + XVIII. HOPE'S VIGIL + XIX. DE PROFUNDIS + XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE + XXI. A STORM + XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS + XXIII. REQUIESCAT + + + + +MALBONE. + + + + +PRELUDE. + +AS one wanders along this southwestern promontory of the Isle of Peace, +and looks down upon the green translucent water which forever bathes the +marble slopes of the Pirates' Cave, it is natural to think of the ten +wrecks with which the past winter has strewn this shore. Though almost +all trace of their presence is already gone, yet their mere memory lends +to these cliffs a human interest. Where a stranded vessel lies, thither +all steps converge, so long as one plank remains upon another. There +centres the emotion. All else is but the setting, and the eye sweeps +with indifference the line of unpeopled rocks. They are barren, till the +imagination has tenanted them with possibilities of danger and dismay. +The ocean provides the scenery and properties of a perpetual tragedy, +but the interest arrives with the performers. Till then the shores +remain vacant, like the great conventional armchairs of the French +drama, that wait for Rachel to come and die. + +Yet as I ride along this fashionable avenue in August, and watch the +procession of the young and fair,--as I look at stately houses, from +each of which has gone forth almost within my memory a funeral or a +bride,--then every thoroughfare of human life becomes in fancy but an +ocean shore, with its ripples and its wrecks. One learns, in growing +older, that no fiction can be so strange nor appear so improbable as +would the simple truth; and that doubtless even Shakespeare did but +timidly transcribe a few of the deeds and passions he had personally +known. For no man of middle age can dare trust himself to portray +life in its full intensity, as he has studied or shared it; he must +resolutely set aside as indescribable the things most worth describing, +and must expect to be charged with exaggeration, even when he tells the +rest. + + + + +I. AN ARRIVAL. + +IT was one of the changing days of our Oldport midsummer. In the morning +it had rained in rather a dismal way, and Aunt Jane had said she should +put it in her diary. It was a very serious thing for the elements when +they got into Aunt Jane's diary. By noon the sun came out as clear and +sultry as if there had never been a cloud, the northeast wind died away, +the bay was motionless, the first locust of the summer shrilled from the +elms, and the robins seemed to be serving up butterflies hot for their +insatiable second brood, while nothing seemed desirable for a human +luncheon except ice-cream and fans. In the afternoon the southwest wind +came up the bay, with its line of dark-blue ripple and its delicious +coolness; while the hue of the water grew more and more intense, till we +seemed to be living in the heart of a sapphire. + +The household sat beneath the large western doorway of the old Maxwell +House,--he rear door, which looks on the water. The house had just been +reoccupied by my Aunt Jane, whose great-grandfather had built it, though +it had for several generations been out of the family. I know no finer +specimen of those large colonial dwellings in which the genius of Sir +Christopher Wren bequeathed traditions of stateliness to our democratic +days. Its central hall has a carved archway; most of the rooms have +painted tiles and are wainscoted to the ceiling; the sashes are +red-cedar, the great staircase mahogany; there are pilasters with +delicate Corinthian capitals; there are cherubs' heads and wings that go +astray and lose themselves in closets and behind glass doors; there are +curling acanthus-leaves that cluster over shelves and ledges, and there +are those graceful shell-patterns which one often sees on old furniture, +but rarely in houses. The high front door still retains its Ionic +cornice; and the western entrance, looking on the bay, is surmounted +by carved fruit and flowers, and is crowned, as is the roof, with +that pineapple in whose symbolic wealth the rich merchants of the last +century delighted. + +Like most of the statelier houses in that region of Oldport, this abode +had its rumors of a ghost and of secret chambers. The ghost had +never been properly lionized nor laid, for Aunt Jane, the neatest +of housekeepers, had discouraged all silly explorations, had at once +required all barred windows to be opened, all superfluous partitions to +be taken down, and several highly eligible dark-closets to be nailed up. +If there was anything she hated, it was nooks and odd corners. Yet there +had been times that year, when the household would have been glad to +find a few more such hiding-places; for during the first few weeks the +house had been crammed with guests so closely that the very mice had +been ill-accommodated and obliged to sit up all night, which had caused +them much discomfort and many audible disagreements. + +But this first tumult had passed away; and now there remained only the +various nephews and nieces of the house, including a due proportion of +small children. Two final guests were to arrive that day, bringing +the latest breath of Europe on their wings,--Philip Malbone, Hope's +betrothed; and little Emilia, Hope's half-sister. + +None of the family had seen Emilia since her wandering mother had taken +her abroad, a fascinating spoiled child of four, and they were all eager +to see in how many ways the succeeding twelve years had completed or +corrected the spoiling. As for Philip, he had been spoiled, as Aunt Jane +declared, from the day of his birth, by the joint effort of all friends +and neighbors. Everybody had conspired to carry on the process except +Aunt Jane herself, who directed toward him one of her honest, steady, +immovable dislikes, which may be said to have dated back to the time +when his father and mother were married, some years before he personally +entered on the scene. + +The New York steamer, detained by the heavy fog of the night before, now +came in unwonted daylight up the bay. At the first glimpse, Harry and +the boys pushed off in the row-boat; for, as one of the children said, +anybody who had been to Venice would naturally wish to come to the very +house in a gondola. In another half-hour there was a great entanglement +of embraces at the water-side, for the guests had landed. + +Malbone's self-poised easy grace was the same as ever; his +chestnut-brown eyes were as winning, his features as handsome; his +complexion, too clearly pink for a man, had a sea bronze upon it: he was +the same Philip who had left home, though with some added lines of care. +But in the brilliant little fairy beside him all looked in vain for the +Emilia they remembered as a child. Her eyes were more beautiful than +ever,--the darkest violet eyes, that grew luminous with thought and +almost black with sorrow. Her gypsy taste, as everybody used to call it, +still showed itself in the scarlet and dark blue of her dress; but the +clouded gypsy tint had gone from her cheek, and in its place shone a +deep carnation, so hard and brilliant that it appeared to be enamelled +on the surface, yet so firm and deep-dyed that it seemed as if not even +death could ever blanch it. There is a kind of beauty that seems made to +be painted on ivory, and such was hers. Only the microscopic pencil of +a miniature-painter could portray those slender eyebrows, that arched +caressingly over the beautiful eyes,--or the silky hair of darkest +chestnut that crept in a wavy line along the temples, as if longing to +meet the brows,--or those unequalled lashes! "Unnecessarily long," Aunt +Jane afterwards pronounced them; while Kate had to admit that they did +indeed give Emilia an overdressed look at breakfast, and that she ought +to have a less showy set to match her morning costume. + +But what was most irresistible about Emilia,--that which we all noticed +in this interview, and which haunted us all thenceforward,--was a +certain wild, entangled look she wore, as of some untamed out-door +thing, and a kind of pathetic lost sweetness in her voice, which made +her at once and forever a heroine of romance with the children. Yet +she scarcely seemed to heed their existence, and only submitted to the +kisses of Hope and Kate as if that were a part of the price of coming +home, and she must pay it. + +Had she been alone, there might have been an awkward pause; for if you +expect a cousin, and there alights a butterfly of the tropics, what +hospitality can you offer? But no sense of embarrassment ever came near +Malbone, especially with the children to swarm over him and claim him +for their own. Moreover, little Helen got in the first remark in the way +of serious conversation. + +"Let me tell him something!" said the child. "Philip! that doll of mine +that you used to know, only think! she was sick and died last summer, +and went into the rag-bag. And the other split down the back, so there +was an end of her." + +Polar ice would have been thawed by this reopening of communication. +Philip soon had the little maid on his shoulder,--the natural throne of +all children,--and they went in together to greet Aunt Jane. + +Aunt Jane was the head of the house,--a lady who had spent more than +fifty years in educating her brains and battling with her ailments. She +had received from her parents a considerable inheritance in the way of +whims, and had nursed it up into a handsome fortune. Being one of +the most impulsive of human beings, she was naturally one of the most +entertaining; and behind all her eccentricities there was a fund of the +soundest sense and the tenderest affection. She had seen much and varied +society, had been greatly admired in her youth, but had chosen to remain +unmarried. Obliged by her physical condition to make herself the first +object, she was saved from utter selfishness by sympathies as democratic +as her personal habits were exclusive. Unexpected and commonly fantastic +in her doings, often dismayed by small difficulties, but never by large +ones, she sagaciously administered the affairs of all those around +her,--planned their dinners and their marriages, fought out their +bargains and their feuds. + +She hated everything irresolute or vague; people might play at +cat's-cradle or study Spinoza, just as they pleased; but, whatever +they did, they must give their minds to it. She kept house from an +easy-chair, and ruled her dependants with severity tempered by wit, and +by the very sweetest voice in which reproof was ever uttered. She never +praised them, but if they did anything particularly well, rebuked them +retrospectively, asking why they had never done it well before? But she +treated them munificently, made all manner of plans for their comfort, +and they all thought her the wisest and wittiest of the human race. So +did the youths and maidens of her large circle; they all came to see +her, and she counselled, admired, scolded, and petted them all. She had +the gayest spirits, and an unerring eye for the ludicrous, and she spoke +her mind with absolute plainness to all comers. Her intuitions were +instantaneous as lightning, and, like that, struck very often in +the wrong place. She was thus extremely unreasonable and altogether +charming. + +Such was the lady whom Emilia and Malbone went up to greet,--the one +shyly, the other with an easy assurance, such as she always disliked. +Emilia submitted to another kiss, while Philip pressed Aunt Jane's hand, +as he pressed all women's, and they sat down. + +"Now begin to tell your adventures," said Kate. "People always tell +their adventures till tea is ready." + +"Who can have any adventures left," said Philip, "after such letters as +I wrote you all?" + +"Of which we got precisely one!" said Kate. "That made it such an event, +after we had wondered in what part of the globe you might be looking +for the post-office! It was like finding a letter in a bottle, or +disentangling a person from the Dark Ages." + +"I was at Neuchatel two months; but I had no adventures. I lodged with a +good Pasteur, who taught me geology and German." + +"That is suspicious," said Kate. "Had he a daughter passing fair?" + +"Indeed he had." + +"And you taught her English? That is what these beguiling youths always +do in novels." + +"Yes." + +"What was her name?" + +"Lili." + +"What a pretty name! How old was she?" + +"She was six." + +"O Philip!" cried Kate; "but I might have known it. Did she love you +very much?" + +Hope looked up, her eyes full of mild reproach at the possibility of +doubting any child's love for Philip. He had been her betrothed for more +than a year, during which time she had habitually seen him wooing every +child he had met as if it were a woman,--which, for Philip, was saying +a great deal. Happily they had in common the one trait of perfect +amiability, and she knew no more how to be jealous than he to be +constant. + +"Lili was easily won," he said. "Other things being equal, people of six +prefer that man who is tallest." + +"Philip is not so very tall," said the eldest of the boys, who was +listening eagerly, and growing rapidly. + +"No," said Philip, meekly. "But then the Pasteur was short, and his +brother was a dwarf." + +"When Lili found that she could reach the ceiling from Mr. Malbone's +shoulder," said Emilia, "she asked no more." + +"Then you knew the pastor's family also, my child," said Aunt Jane, +looking at her kindly and a little keenly. + +"I was allowed to go there sometimes," she began, timidly. + +"To meet her American Cousin," interrupted Philip. "I got some +relaxation in the rules of the school. But, Aunt Jane, you have told us +nothing about your health." + +"There is nothing to tell," she answered. "I should like, if it were +convenient, to be a little better. But in this life, if one can walk +across the floor, and not be an idiot, it is something. That is all I +aim at." + +"Isn't it rather tiresome?" said Emilia, as the elder lady happened to +look at her. + +"Not at all," said Aunt Jane, composedly. "I naturally fall back into +happiness, when left to myself." + +"So you have returned to the house of your fathers," said Philip. "I +hope you like it." + +"It is commonplace in one respect," said Aunt Jane. "General Washington +once slept here." + +"Oh!" said Philip. "It is one of that class of houses?" + +"Yes," said she. "There is not a village in America that has not half +a dozen of them, not counting those where he only breakfasted. Did +ever man sleep like that man? What else could he ever have done? Who +governed, I wonder, while he was asleep? How he must have travelled! The +swiftest horse could scarcely have carried him from one of these houses +to another." + +"I never was attached to the memory of Washington," meditated Philip; +"but I always thought it was the pear-tree. It must have been that he +was such a very unsettled person." + +"He certainly was not what is called a domestic character," said Aunt +Jane. + +"I suppose you are, Miss Maxwell," said Philip. "Do you often go out?" + +"Sometimes, to drive," said Aunt Jane. "Yesterday I went shopping with +Kate, and sat in the carriage while she bought under-sleeves enough +for a centipede. It is always so with that child. People talk about the +trouble of getting a daughter ready to be married; but it is like being +married once a month to live with her." + +"I wonder that you take her to drive with you," suggested Philip, +sympathetically. + +"It is a great deal worse to drive without her," said the impetuous +lady. "She is the only person who lets me enjoy things, and now I +cannot enjoy them in her absence. Yesterday I drove alone over the three +beaches, and left her at home with a dress-maker. Never did I see so +many lines of surf; but they only seemed to me like some of Kate's +ball-dresses, with the prevailing flounces, six deep. I was so enraged +that she was not there, I wished to cover my face with my handkerchief. +By the third beach I was ready for the madhouse." + +"Is Oldport a pleasant place to live in?" asked Emilia, eagerly. + +"It is amusing in the summer," said Aunt Jane, "though the society is +nothing but a pack of visiting-cards. In winter it is too dull for young +people, and only suits quiet old women like me, who merely live here to +keep the Ten Commandments and darn their stockings." + +Meantime the children were aiming at Emilia, whose butterfly looks +amazed and charmed them, but who evidently did not know what to do with +their eager affection. + +"I know about you," said little Helen; "I know what you said when you +were little." + +"Did I say anything?" asked Emilia, carelessly. + +"Yes," replied the child, and began to repeat the oft-told domestic +tradition in an accurate way, as if it were a school lesson. "Once you +had been naughty, and your papa thought it his duty to slap you, and you +cried; and he told you in French, because he always spoke French with +you, that he did not punish you for his own pleasure. Then you stopped +crying, and asked, 'Pour le plaisir de qui alors?' That means 'For whose +pleasure then?' Hope said it was a droll question for a little girl to +ask." + +"I do not think it was Emilia who asked that remarkable question, little +girl," said Kate. + +"I dare say it was," said Emilia; "I have been asking it all my life." +Her eyes grew very moist, what with fatigue and excitement. But just +then, as is apt to happen in this world, they were all suddenly recalled +from tears to tea, and the children smothered their curiosity in +strawberries and cream. + +They sat again beside the western door, after tea. The young moon came +from a cloud and dropped a broad path of glory upon the bay; a black +yacht glided noiselessly in, and anchored amid this tract of splendor. +The shadow of its masts was on the luminous surface, while their +reflection lay at a different angle, and seemed to penetrate far below. +Then the departing steamer went flashing across this bright realm with +gorgeous lustre; its red and green lights were doubled in the paler +waves, its four reflected chimneys chased each other among the reflected +masts. This jewelled wonder passing, a single fishing-boat drifted +silently by, with its one dark sail; and then the moon and the anchored +yacht were left alone. + +Presently some of the luggage came from the wharf. Malbone brought +out presents for everybody; then all the family went to Europe in +photographs, and with some reluctance came back to America for bed. + + + + +II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + +IN every town there is one young maiden who is the universal favorite, +who belongs to all sets and is made an exception to all family feuds, +who is the confidante of all girls and the adopted sister of all young +men, up to the time when they respectively offer themselves to her, and +again after they are rejected. This post was filled in Oldport, in those +days, by my cousin Kate. + +Born into the world with many other gifts, this last and least definable +gift of popularity was added to complete them all. Nobody criticised +her, nobody was jealous of her, her very rivals lent her their new music +and their lovers; and her own discarded wooers always sought her to be a +bridesmaid when they married somebody else. + +She was one of those persons who seem to have come into the world +well-dressed. There was an atmosphere of elegance around her, like a +costume; every attitude implied a presence-chamber or a ball-room. The +girls complained that in private theatricals no combination of disguises +could reduce Kate to the ranks, nor give her the "make-up" of a +waiting-maid. Yet as her father was a New York merchant of the +precarious or spasmodic description, she had been used from childhood +to the wildest fluctuations of wardrobe;--a year of Paris dresses,--then +another year spent in making over ancient finery, that never looked like +either finery or antiquity when it came from her magic hands. Without +a particle of vanity or fear, secure in health and good-nature and +invariable prettiness, she cared little whether the appointed means of +grace were ancient silk or modern muslin. In her periods of poverty, +she made no secret of the necessary devices; the other girls, of course, +guessed them, but her lovers never did, because she always told them. +There was one particular tarlatan dress of hers which was a sort of +local institution. It was known to all her companions, like the State +House. There was a report that she had first worn it at her christening; +the report originated with herself. The young men knew that she was +going to the party if she could turn that pink tarlatan once more; but +they had only the vaguest impression what a tarlatan was, and cared +little on which side it was worn, so long as Kate was inside. + +During these epochs of privation her life, in respect to dress, was a +perpetual Christmas-tree of second-hand gifts. Wealthy aunts supplied +her with cast-off shoes of all sizes, from two and a half up to five, +and she used them all. She was reported to have worn one straw hat +through five changes of fashion. It was averred that, when square crowns +were in vogue, she flattened it over a tin pan, and that, when round +crowns returned, she bent it on the bedpost. There was such a charm in +her way of adapting these treasures, that the other girls liked to +test her with new problems in the way of millinery and dress-making; +millionnaire friends implored her to trim their hats, and lent her their +own things in order to learn how to wear them. This applied especially +to certain rich cousins, shy and studious girls, who adored her, and +to whom society only ceased to be alarming when the brilliant Kate +took them under her wing, and graciously accepted a few of their newest +feathers. Well might they acquiesce, for she stood by them superbly, and +her most favored partners found no way to her hand so sure as to dance +systematically through that staid sisterhood. Dear, sunshiny, gracious, +generous Kate!--who has ever done justice to the charm given to this +grave old world by the presence of one free-hearted and joyous girl? + +At the time now to be described, however, Kate's purse was well filled; +and if she wore only second-best finery, it was because she had lent her +very best to somebody else. All that her doting father asked was to pay +for her dresses, and to see her wear them; and if her friends wore a +part of them, it only made necessary a larger wardrobe, and more varied +and pleasurable shopping. She was as good a manager in wealth as in +poverty, wasted nothing, took exquisite care of everything, and saved +faithfully for some one else all that was not needed for her own pretty +person. + +Pretty she was throughout, from the parting of her jet-black hair to the +high instep of her slender foot; a glancing, brilliant, brunette beauty, +with the piquant charm of perpetual spirits, and the equipoise of a +perfectly healthy nature. She was altogether graceful, yet she had not +the fresh, free grace of her cousin Hope, who was lithe and strong as a +hawthorne spray: Kate's was the narrower grace of culture grown +hereditary, an in-door elegance that was born in her, and of which +dancing-school was but the natural development. You could not picture +Hope to your mind in one position more than in another; she had an +endless variety of easy motion. When you thought of Kate, you remembered +precisely how she sat, how she stood, and how she walked. That was all, +and it was always the same. But is not that enough? We do not ask of +Mary Stuart's portrait that it should represent her in more than one +attitude, and why should a living beauty need more than two or three? + +Kate was betrothed to her cousin Harry, Hope's brother, and, though she +was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to each other for a time +so long that the memory of man or maiden aunt ran not to the contrary. +She always declared, indeed, that they were born married, and that +their wedding-day would seem like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet, +unobtrusive, and manly. He might seem commonplace at first beside the +brilliant Kate and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never +commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His strong, +steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature; when he came +into the room, you felt as if a good many people had been added to the +company. He made steady progress in his profession of the law, through +sheer worth; he never dazzled, but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with +short, curling hair, blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color +readily mounted. Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient +and amiable, but, when overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a single +instant, and no more. It seemed as if a sudden flash of anger went +over him, like the flash that glides along the glutinous stem of the +fraxinella, when you touch it with a candle; the next moment it had +utterly vanished, and was forgotten as if it had never been. + +Kate's love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured ties +that often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures. For other +temperaments it might have been inadequate; but theirs matched +perfectly, and it was all sufficient for them. If there was within +Kate's range a more heroic and ardent emotion than that inspired by +Harry, it was put forth toward Hope. This was her idolatry; she always +said that it was fortunate Hope was Hal's sister, or she should have +felt it her duty to give them to each other, and not die till the +wedding was accomplished. Harry shared this adoration to quite a +reasonable extent, for a brother; but his admiration for Philip Malbone +was one that Kate did not quite share. Harry's quieter mood had been +dazzled from childhood by Philip, who had always been a privileged guest +in the household. Kate's clear, penetrating, buoyant nature had divined +Phil's weaknesses, and had sometimes laughed at them, even from her +childhood; though she did not dislike him, for she did not dislike +anybody. But Harry was magnetized by him very much as women were; +believed him true, because he was tender, and called him only fastidious +where Kate called him lazy. + +Kate was spending that summer with her aunt Jane, whose especial pet and +pride she was. Hope was spending there the summer vacation of a Normal +School in which she had just become a teacher. Her father had shared in +the family ups and downs, but had finally stayed down, while the rest +had remained up. Fortunately, his elder children were indifferent to +this, and indeed rather preferred it; it was a tradition that Hope +had expressed the wish, when a child, that her father might lose +his property, so that she could become a teacher. As for Harry, he +infinitely preferred the drudgery of a law office to that of a gentleman +of leisure; and as for their step-mother, it turned out, when she was +left a widow, that she had secured for herself and Emilia whatever +property remained, so that she suffered only the delightful need of +living in Europe for economy. + +The elder brother and sister had alike that fine physical vigor which +New England is now developing, just in time to save it from decay. Hope +was of Saxon type, though a shade less blonde than her brother; she +was a little taller, and of more commanding presence, with a peculiarly +noble carriage of the shoulders. Her brow was sometimes criticised as +being a little too full for a woman; but her nose was straight, +her mouth and teeth beautiful, and her profile almost perfect. Her +complexion had lost by out-door life something of its delicacy, but had +gained a freshness and firmness that no sunlight could impair. She had +that wealth of hair which young girls find the most enviable point of +beauty in each other. Hers reached below her knees, when loosened, or +else lay coiled, in munificent braids of gold, full of sparkling lights +and contrasted shadows, upon her queenly head. + +Her eyes were much darker than her hair, and had a way of opening +naively and suddenly, with a perfectly infantine expression, as if she +at that moment saw the sunlight for the first time. Her long lashes were +somewhat like Emilia's, and she had the same deeply curved eyebrows; +in no other point was there a shade of resemblance between the +half-sisters. As compared with Kate, Hope showed a more abundant +physical life; there was more blood in her; she had ampler outlines, and +health more absolutely unvaried, for she had yet to know the experience +of a day's illness. Kate seemed born to tread upon a Brussels carpet, +and Hope on the softer luxury of the forest floor. Out of doors her +vigor became a sort of ecstasy, and she walked the earth with a jubilee +of the senses, such as Browning attributes to his Saul. + +This inexhaustible freshness of physical organization seemed to open the +windows of her soul, and make for her a new heaven and earth every day. +It gave also a peculiar and almost embarrassing directness to her mental +processes, and suggested in them a sort of final and absolute value, as +if truth had for the first time found a perfectly translucent medium. +It was not so much that she said rare things, but her very silence was +eloquent, and there was a great deal of it. Her girlhood had in it +a certain dignity as of a virgin priestess or sibyl. Yet her hearty +sympathies and her healthy energy made her at home in daily life, and +in a democratic society. To Kate, for instance, she was a necessity of +existence, like light or air. Kate's nature was limited; part of +her graceful equipoise was narrowness. Hope was capable of far more +self-abandonment to a controlling emotion, and, if she ever erred, +would err more widely, for it would be because the whole power of her +conscience was misdirected. "Once let her take wrong for right," said +Aunt Jane, "and stop her if you can; these born saints give a great deal +more trouble than children of this world, like my Kate." Yet in daily +life Hope yielded to her cousin nine times out of ten; but the tenth +time was the key to the situation. Hope loved Kate devotedly; but Kate +believed in her as the hunted fugitive believes in the north star. + +To these maidens, thus united, came Emilia home from Europe. The father +of Harry and Hope had been lured into a second marriage with Emilia's +mother, a charming and unscrupulous woman, born with an American body +and a French soul. She having once won him to Paris, held him there +life-long, and kept her step-children at a safe distance. She arranged +that, even after her own death, her daughter should still remain abroad +for education; nor was Emilia ordered back until she brought down some +scandal by a romantic attempt to elope from boarding-school with a Swiss +servant. It was by weaning her heart from this man that Philip Malbone +had earned the thanks of the whole household during his hasty flight +through Europe. He possessed some skill in withdrawing the female +heart from an undesirable attachment, though it was apt to be done by +substituting another. It was fortunate that, in this case, no fears +could be entertained. Since his engagement Philip had not permitted +himself so much as a flirtation; he and Hope were to be married soon; he +loved and admired her heartily, and had an indifference to her want of +fortune that was quite amazing, when we consider that he had a fortune +of his own. + + + + +III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE. + +OLDPORT AVENUE is a place where a great many carriages may be seen +driving so slowly that they might almost be photographed without +halting, and where their occupants already wear the dismal expression +which befits that process. In these fine vehicles, following each other +in an endless file, one sees such faces as used to be exhibited in +ball-rooms during the performance of quadrilles, before round dances +came in,--faces marked by the renunciation of all human joy. Sometimes +a faint suspicion suggests itself on the Avenue, that these torpid +countenances might be roused to life, in case some horse should run +away. But that one chance never occurs; the riders may not yet be toned +down into perfect breeding, but the horses are. I do not know what could +ever break the gloom of this joyless procession, were it not that youth +and beauty are always in fashion, and one sometimes meets an exceptional +barouche full of boys and girls, who could absolutely be no happier if +they were a thousand miles away from the best society. And such a joyous +company were our four youths and maidens when they went to drive that +day, Emilia being left at home to rest after the fatigues of the voyage. + +"What beautiful horses!" was Hope's first exclamation. "What grave +people!" was her second. + + "What though in solemn silence all + Roll round--" + +quoted Philip. + +"Hope is thinking," said Harry, "whether 'in reason's ear they all +rejoice.'" + +"How COULD you know that?" said she, opening her eyes. + +"One thing always strikes me," said Kate. "The sentence of stupefaction +does not seem to be enforced till after five-and-twenty. That young lady +we just met looked quite lively and juvenile last year, I remember, and +now she has graduated into a dowager." + +"Like little Helen's kitten," said Philip. "She justly remarks that, +since I saw it last, it is all spoiled into a great big cat." + +"Those must be snobs," said Harry, as a carriage with unusually gorgeous +liveries rolled by. + +"I suppose so," said Malbone, indifferently. "In Oldport we call all +new-comers snobs, you know, till they have invited us to their grand +ball. Then we go to it, and afterwards speak well of them, and only +abuse their wine." + +"How do you know them for new-comers?" asked Hope, looking after the +carriage. + +"By their improperly intelligent expression," returned Phil. "They look +around them as you do, my child, with the air of wide-awake curiosity +which marks the American traveller. That is out of place here. The +Avenue abhors everything but a vacuum." + +"I never can find out," continued Hope, "how people recognize each other +here. They do not look at each other, unless they know each other: and +how are they to know if they know, unless they look first?" + +"It seems an embarrassment," said Malbone. "But it is supposed that +fashion perforates the eyelids and looks through. If you attempt it in +any other way, you are lost. Newly arrived people look about them, and, +the more new wealth they have, the more they gaze. The men are uneasy +behind their recently educated mustaches, and the women hold their +parasols with trembling hands. It takes two years to learn to drive +on the Avenue. Come again next summer, and you will see in those same +carriages faces of remote superciliousness, that suggest generations of +gout and ancestors." + +"What a pity one feels," said Harry, "for these people who still suffer +from lingering modesty, and need a master to teach them to be insolent!" + +"They learn it soon enough," said Kate. "Philip is right. Fashion lies +in the eye. People fix their own position by the way they don't look at +you." + +"There is a certain indifference of manner," philosophized Malbone, +"before which ingenuous youth is crushed. I may know that a man can +hardly read or write, and that his father was a ragpicker till one day +he picked up bank-notes for a million. No matter. If he does not take +the trouble to look at me, I must look reverentially at him." + +"Here is somebody who will look at Hope," cried Kate, suddenly. + +A carriage passed, bearing a young lady with fair hair, and a keen, +bright look, talking eagerly to a small and quiet youth beside her. + +Her face brightened still more as she caught the eye of Hope, whose +face lighted up in return, and who then sank back with a sort of sigh +of relief, as if she had at last seen somebody she cared for. The lady +waved an un-gloved hand, and drove by. + +"Who is that?" asked Philip, eagerly. He was used to knowing every one. + +"Hope's pet," said Kate, "and she who pets Hope, Lady Antwerp." + +"Is it possible?" said Malbone. "That young creature? I fancied her +ladyship in spectacles, with little side curls. Men speak of her with +such dismay." + +"Of course," said Kate, "she asks them sensible questions." + +"That is bad," admitted Philip. "Nothing exasperates fashionable +Americans like a really intelligent foreigner. They feel as Sydney Smith +says the English clergy felt about Elizabeth Fry; she disturbs their +repose, and gives rise to distressing comparisons,--they long to burn +her alive. It is not their notion of a countess." + +"I am sure it was not mine," said Hope; "I can hardly remember that she +is one; I only know that I like her, she is so simple and intelligent. +She might be a girl from a Normal School." + +"It is because you are just that," said Kate, "that she likes you. +She came here supposing that we had all been at such schools. Then +she complained of us,--us girls in what we call good society, I +mean,--because, as she more than hinted, we did not seem to know +anything." + +"Some of the mothers were angry," said Hope. "But Aunt Jane told her +that it was perfectly true, and that her ladyship had not yet seen the +best-educated girls in America, who were generally the daughters of old +ministers and well-to-do shopkeepers in small New England towns, Aunt +Jane said." + +"Yes," said Kate, "she said that the best of those girls went to High +Schools and Normal Schools, and learned things thoroughly, you know; +but that we were only taught at boarding-schools and by governesses, and +came out at eighteen, and what could we know? Then came Hope, who had +been at those schools, and was the child of refined people too, and Lady +Antwerp was perfectly satisfied." + +"Especially," said Hope, "when Aunt Jane told her that, after all, +schools did not do very much good, for if people were born stupid they +only became more tiresome by schooling. She said that she had forgotten +all she learned at school except the boundaries of ancient Cappadocia." + +Aunt Jane's fearless sayings always passed current among her nieces; and +they drove on, Hope not being lowered in Philip's estimation, nor raised +in her own, by being the pet of a passing countess. + +Who would not be charmed (he thought to himself) by this noble girl, +who walks the earth fresh and strong as a Greek goddess, pure as Diana, +stately as Juno? She belongs to the unspoiled womanhood of another age, +and is wasted among these dolls and butterflies. + +He looked at her. She sat erect and graceful, unable to droop into the +debility of fashionable reclining,--her breezy hair lifted a little by +the soft wind, her face flushed, her full brown eyes looking eagerly +about, her mouth smiling happily. To be with those she loved best, and +to be driving over the beautiful earth! She was so happy that no mob of +fashionables could have lessened her enjoyment, or made her for a moment +conscious that anybody looked at her. The brilliant equipages which +they met each moment were not wholly uninteresting even to her, for her +affections went forth to some of the riders and to all the horses. She +was as well contented at that moment, on the glittering Avenue, as if +they had all been riding home through country lanes, and in constant +peril of being jolted out among the whortleberry-bushes. + +Her face brightened yet more as they met a carriage containing a +graceful lady dressed with that exquisiteness of taste that charms both +man and woman, even if no man can analyze and no woman rival its effect. +She had a perfectly high-bred look, and an eye that in an instant would +calculate one's ancestors as far back as Nebuchadnezzar, and bow to them +all together. She smiled good-naturedly on Hope, and kissed her hand to +Kate. + +"So, Hope," said Philip, "you are bent on teaching music to Mrs. +Meredith's children." + +"Indeed I am!" said Hope, eagerly. "O Philip, I shall enjoy it so! I do +not care so very much about her, but she has dear little girls. And you +know I am a born drudge. I have not been working hard enough to enjoy +an entire vacation, but I shall be so very happy here if I can have some +real work for an hour or two every other day." + +"Hope," said Philip, gravely, "look steadily at these people whom we are +meeting, and reflect. Should you like to have them say, 'There goes Mrs. +Meredith's music teacher'?" + +"Why not?" said Hope, with surprise. "The children are young, and it is +not very presumptuous. I ought to know enough for that." + +Malbone looked at Kate, who smiled with delight, and put her hand on +that of Hope. Indeed, she kept it there so long that one or two passing +ladies stopped their salutations in mid career, and actually looked +after them in amazement at their attitude, as who should say, "What a +very mixed society!" + +So they drove on,--meeting four-in-hands, and tandems, and donkey-carts, +and a goat-cart, and basket-wagons driven by pretty girls, with +uncomfortable youths in or out of livery behind. They met, had they but +known it, many who were aiming at notoriety, and some who had it; many +who looked contented with their lot, and some who actually were so. They +met some who put on courtesy and grace with their kid gloves, and laid +away those virtues in their glove-boxes afterwards; while to others +the mere consciousness of kid gloves brought uneasiness, redness of the +face, and a general impression of being all made of hands. They met the +four white horses of an ex-harness-maker, and the superb harnesses of an +ex-horse-dealer. Behind these came the gayest and most plebeian equipage +of all, a party of journeymen carpenters returning from their work in a +four-horse wagon. Their only fit compeers were an Italian opera-troupe, +who were chatting and gesticulating on the piazza of the great hotel, +and planning, amid jest and laughter, their future campaigns. Their work +seemed like play, while the play around them seemed like work. Indeed, +most people on the Avenue seemed to be happy in inverse ratio to their +income list. + +As our youths and maidens passed the hotel, a group of French naval +officers strolled forth, some of whom had a good deal of inexplicable +gold lace dangling in festoons from their shoulders,--"topsail halyards" +the American midshipmen called them. Philip looked hard at one of these +gentlemen. + +"I have seen that young fellow before," said he, "or his twin brother. +But who can swear to the personal identity of a Frenchman?" + + + + +IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION. + +THE next morning had that luminous morning haze, not quite dense +enough to be called a fog, which is often so lovely in Oldport. It was +perfectly still; the tide swelled and swelled till it touched the edge +of the green lawn behind the house, and seemed ready to submerge the +slender pier; the water looked at first like glass, till closer gaze +revealed long sinuous undulations, as if from unseen water-snakes +beneath. A few rags of storm-cloud lay over the half-seen hills beyond +the bay, and behind them came little mutterings of thunder, now +here, now there, as if some wild creature were roaming up and down, +dissatisfied, in the shelter of the clouds. The pale haze extended into +the foreground, and half veiled the schooners that lay at anchor with +their sails up. It was sultry, and there was something in the atmosphere +that at once threatened and soothed. Sometimes a few drops dimpled the +water and then ceased; the muttering creature in the sky moved northward +and grew still. It was a day when every one would be tempted to go out +rowing, but when only lovers would go. Philip and Hope went. + +Kate and Harry, meanwhile, awaited their opportunity to go in and visit +Aunt Jane. This was a thing that never could be done till near noon, +because that dear lady was very deliberate in her morning habits, +and always averred that she had never seen the sun rise except in +a panorama. She hated to be hurried in dressing, too; for she was +accustomed to say that she must have leisure to understand herself, and +this was clearly an affair of time. + +But she was never more charming than when, after dressing and +breakfasting in seclusion, and then vigilantly watching her handmaiden +through the necessary dustings and arrangements, she sat at last, with +her affairs in order, to await events. Every day she expected something +entirely new to happen, and was never disappointed. For she herself +always happened, if nothing else did; she could no more repeat herself +than the sunrise can; and the liveliest visitor always carried away +something fresher and more remarkable than he brought. + +Her book that morning had displeased her, and she was boiling with +indignation against its author. + +"I am reading a book so dry," she said, "it makes me cough. No wonder +there was a drought last summer. It was printed then. Worcester's +Geography seems in my memory as fascinating as Shakespeare, when I look +back upon it from this book. How can a man write such a thing and live?" + +"Perhaps he lived by writing it," said Kate. + +"Perhaps it was the best he could do," added the more literal Harry. + +"It certainly was not the best he could do, for he might have +died,--died instead of dried. O, I should like to prick that man with +something sharp, and see if sawdust did not run out of him! Kate, ask +the bookseller to let me know if he ever really dies, and then life may +seem fresh again." + +"What is it?" asked Kate. + +"Somebody's memoirs," said Aunt Jane. "Was there no man left worth +writing about, that they should make a biography about this one? It +is like a life of Napoleon with all the battles left out. They are +conceited enough to put his age in the upper corner of each page too, as +if anybody cared how old he was." + +"Such pretty covers!" said Kate. "It is too bad." + +"Yes," said Aunt Jane. "I mean to send them back and have new leaves +put in. These are so wretched, there is not a teakettle in the land so +insignificant that it would boil over them. Don't let us talk any more +about it. Have Philip and Hope gone out upon the water?" + +"Yes, dear," said Kate. "Did Ruth tell you?" + +"When did that aimless infant ever tell anything?" + +"Then how did you know it?" + +"If I waited for knowledge till that sweet-tempered parrot chose to tell +me," Aunt Jane went on, "I should be even more foolish than I am." + +"Then how did you know?" + +"Of course I heard the boat hauled down, and of course I knew that none +but lovers would go out just before a thunder-storm. Then you and Harry +came in, and I knew it was the others." + +"Aunt Jane," said Kate, "you divine everything: what a brain you have!" + +"Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little girl's +work-basket,--a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white muslin." + +"Now she is fishing for compliments," said Kate, "and she shall have +one. She was very sweet and good to Philip last night." + +"I know it," said Aunt Jane, with a groan. "I waked in the night and +thought about it. I was awake a great deal last night. I have heard +cocks crowing all my life, but I never knew what that creature could +accomplish before. So I lay and thought how good and forgiving I was; it +was quite distressing." + +"Remorse?" said Kate. + +"Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought to be +vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I suffer from a +good one." + +"It was no merit of yours, aunt," put in Harry. "Who was ever more +agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?" + +"Lovable!" burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or +manipulated by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against Harry's +blunt assertions. "Of course he is lovable, and that is why I dislike +him. His father was so before him. That is the worst of it. I never in +my life saw any harm done by a villain; I wish I could. All the mischief +in this world is done by lovable people. Thank Heaven, nobody ever dared +to call me lovable!" + +"I should like to see any one dare call you anything else,--you dear, +old, soft-hearted darling!" interposed Kate. + +"But, aunt," persisted Harry, "if you only knew what the mass of young +men are--" + +"Don't I?" interrupted the impetuous lady. "What is there that is not +known to any woman who has common sense, and eyes enough to look out of +a window?" + +"If you only knew," Harry went on, "how superior Phil Malbone is, in his +whole tone, to any fellow of my acquaintance." + +"Lord help the rest!" she answered. "Philip has a sort of refinement +instead of principles, and a heart instead of a conscience,--just heart +enough to keep himself happy and everybody else miserable." + +"Do you mean to say," asked the obstinate Hal, "that there is no +difference between refinement and coarseness?" + +"Yes, there is," she said. + +"Well, which is best?" + +"Coarseness is safer by a great deal," said Aunt Jane, "in the hands +of a man like Philip. What harm can that swearing coachman do, I should +like to know, in the street yonder? To be sure it is very unpleasant, +and I wonder they let people swear so, except, perhaps, in waste places +outside the town; but that is his way of expressing himself, and he only +frightens people, after all." + +"Which Philip does not," said Hal. + +"Exactly. That is the danger. He frightens nobody, not even himself, +when he ought to wear a label round his neck marked 'Dangerous,' such as +they have at other places where it is slippery and brittle. When he is +here, I keep saying to myself, 'Too smooth, too smooth!'" + +"Aunt Jane," said Harry, gravely, "I know Malbone very well, and I never +knew any man whom it was more unjust to call a hypocrite." + +"Did I say he was a hypocrite?" she cried. "He is worse than that; at +least, more really dangerous. It is these high-strung sentimentalists +who do all the mischief; who play on their own lovely emotions, +forsooth, till they wear out those fine fiddlestrings, and then have +nothing left but the flesh and the D. Don't tell me!" + +"Do stop, auntie," interposed Kate, quite alarmed, "you are really worse +than a coachman. You are growing very profane indeed." + +"I have a much harder time than any coachman, Kate," retorted the +injured lady. "Nobody tries to stop him, and you are always hushing me +up." + +"Hushing you up, darling?" said Kate. "When we only spoil you by +praising and quoting everything you say." + +"Only when it amuses you," said Aunt Jane. "So long as I sit and cry my +eyes out over a book, you all love me, and when I talk nonsense, you are +ready to encourage it; but when I begin to utter a little sense, you all +want to silence me, or else run out of the room! Yesterday I read about +a newspaper somewhere, called the 'Daily Evening Voice'; I wish you +would allow me a daily morning voice." + +"Do not interfere, Kate," said Hal. "Aunt Jane and I only wish to +understand each other." + +"I am sure we don't," said Aunt Jane; "I have no desire to understand +you, and you never will understand me till you comprehend Philip." + +"Let us agree on one thing," Harry said. "Surely, aunt, you know how he +loves Hope?" + +Aunt Jane approached a degree nearer the equator, and said, gently, "I +fear I do." + +"Fear?" + +"Yes, fear. That is just what troubles me. I know precisely how he loves +her. Il se laisse aimer. Philip likes to be petted, as much as any cat, +and, while he will purr, Hope is happy. Very few men accept idolatry +with any degree of grace, but he unfortunately does." + +"Unfortunately?" remonstrated Hal, as far as ever from being satisfied. +"This is really too bad. You never will do him any justice." + +"Ah?" said Aunt Jane, chilling again, "I thought I did. I observe he is +very much afraid of me, and there seems to be no other reason." + +"The real trouble is," said Harry, after a pause, "that you doubt his +constancy." + +"What do you call constancy?" said she. "Kissing a woman's picture ten +years after a man has broken her heart? Philip Malbone has that kind of +constancy, and so had his father before him." + +This was too much for Harry, who was making for the door in indignation, +when little Ruth came in with Aunt Jane's luncheon, and that lady was +soon absorbed in the hopeless task of keeping her handmaiden's pretty +blue and white gingham sleeve out of the butter-plate. + + + + +V. A MULTIVALVE HEART. + +PHILIP MALBONE had that perfectly sunny temperament which is peculiarly +captivating among Americans, because it is so rare. He liked everybody +and everybody liked him; he had a thousand ways of affording pleasure, +and he received it in the giving. He had a personal beauty, which, +strange to say, was recognized by both sexes,--for handsome men must +often consent to be mildly hated by their own. He had travelled much, +and had mingled in very varied society; he had a moderate fortune, no +vices, no ambition, and no capacity of ennui. + +He was fastidious and over-critical, it might be, in his theories, but +in practice he was easily suited and never vexed. + +He liked travelling, and he liked staying at home; he was so continually +occupied as to give an apparent activity to all his life, and yet he +was never too busy to be interrupted, especially if the intruder were +a woman or a child. He liked to be with people of his own age, whatever +their condition; he also liked old people because they were old, and +children because they were young. In travelling by rail, he would woo +crying babies out of their mothers' arms, and still them; it was always +his back that Irishwomen thumped, to ask if they must get out at the +next station; and he might be seen handing out decrepit paupers, as +if they were of royal blood and bore concealed sceptres in their old +umbrellas. Exquisitely nice in his personal habits, he had the practical +democracy of a good-natured young prince; he had never yet seen a human +being who awed him, nor one whom he had the slightest wish to awe. +His courtesy, had, therefore, that comprehensiveness which we call +republican, though it was really the least republican thing about him. +All felt its attraction; there was really no one who disliked him, +except Aunt Jane; and even she admitted that he was the only person who +knew how to cut her lead-pencil. + +That cheerful English premier who thought that any man ought to find +happiness enough in walking London streets and looking at the lobsters +in the fish-markets, was not more easily satisfied than Malbone. He +liked to observe the groups of boys fishing at the wharves, or to hear +the chat of their fathers about coral-reefs and penguins' eggs; or to +sketch the fisher's little daughter awaiting her father at night on +some deserted and crumbling wharf, his blue pea-jacket over her fair +ring-leted head, and a great cat standing by with tail uplifted, her +sole protector. He liked the luxurious indolence of yachting, and +he liked as well to float in his wherry among the fleet of fishing +schooners getting under way after a three days' storm, each vessel +slipping out in turn from the closely packed crowd, and spreading its +white wings for flight. He liked to watch the groups of negro boys +and girls strolling by the window at evening, and strumming on the +banjo,--the only vestige of tropical life that haunts our busy Northern +zone. But he liked just as well to note the ways of well-dressed girls +and boys at croquet parties, or to sit at the club window and hear the +gossip. He was a jewel of a listener, and was not easily bored even when +Philadelphians talked about families, or New Yorkers about bargains, or +Bostonians about books. A man who has not one absorbing aim can get a +great many miscellaneous things into each twenty-four hours; and there +was not a day in which Philip did not make himself agreeable and useful +to many people, receive many confidences, and give much good-humored +advice about matters of which he knew nothing. His friends' children +ran after him in the street, and he knew the pet theories and wines of +elderly gentlemen. He said that he won their hearts by remembering every +occurrence in their lives except their birthdays. + +It was, perhaps, no drawback on the popularity of Philip Malbone that +he had been for some ten years reproached as a systematic flirt by all +women with whom he did not happen at the moment to be flirting. The +reproach was unjust; he had never done anything systematically in his +life; it was his temperament that flirted, not his will. He simply had +that most perilous of all seductive natures, in which the seducer is +himself seduced. With a personal refinement that almost amounted to +purity, he was constantly drifting into loves more profoundly perilous +than if they had belonged to a grosser man. Almost all women loved him, +because he loved almost all; he never had to assume an ardor, for he +always felt it. His heart was multivalve; he could love a dozen at once +in various modes and gradations, press a dozen hands in a day, gaze into +a dozen pair of eyes with unfeigned tenderness; while the last pair wept +for him, he was looking into the next. In truth, he loved to explore +those sweet depths; humanity is the highest thing to investigate, +he said, and the proper study of mankind is woman. Woman needs to be +studied while under the influence of emotion; let us therefore have +the emotions. This was the reason he gave to himself; but this refined +Mormonism of the heart was not based on reason, but on temperament and +habit. In such matters logic is only for the by-standers. + +His very generosity harmed him, as all our good qualities may harm us +when linked with bad ones; he had so many excuses for doing kindnesses +to his friends, it was hard to quarrel with him if he did them too +tenderly. He was no more capable of unkindness than of constancy; and +so strongly did he fix the allegiance of those who loved him, that the +women to whom he had caused most anguish would still defend him when +accused; would have crossed the continent, if needed, to nurse him in +illness, and would have rained rivers of tears on his grave. To do him +justice, he would have done almost as much for them,--for any of them. +He could torture a devoted heart, but only through a sort of half-wilful +unconsciousness; he could not bear to see tears shed in his presence, +nor to let his imagination dwell very much on those which flowed in his +absence. When he had once loved a woman, or even fancied that he loved +her, he built for her a shrine that was never dismantled, and in which +a very little faint incense would sometimes be found burning for years +after; he never quite ceased to feel a languid thrill at the mention +of her name; he would make even for a past love the most generous +sacrifices of time, convenience, truth perhaps,--everything, in short, +but the present love. To those who had given him all that an undivided +heart can give he would deny nothing but an undivided heart in return. +The misfortune was that this was the only thing they cared to possess. + +This abundant and spontaneous feeling gave him an air of earnestness, +without which he could not have charmed any woman, and, least of all, +one like Hope. No woman really loves a trifler; she must at least +convince herself that he who trifles with others is serious with her. +Philip was never quite serious and never quite otherwise; he never +deliberately got up a passion, for it was never needful; he simply found +an object for his emotions, opened their valves, and then watched their +flow. To love a charming woman in her presence is no test of genuine +passion; let us know how much you long for her in absence. This longing +had never yet seriously troubled Malbone, provided there was another +charming person within an easy walk. + +If it was sometimes forced upon him that all this ended in anguish to +some of these various charmers, first or last, then there was always in +reserve the pleasure of repentance. He was very winning and generous in +his repentances, and he enjoyed them so much they were often repeated. +He did not pass for a weak person, and he was not exactly weak; but he +spent his life in putting away temptations with one hand and pulling +them back with the other. There was for him something piquant in being +thus neither innocent nor guilty, but always on some delicious +middle ground. He loved dearly to skate on thin ice,--that was the +trouble,--especially where he fancied the water to be just within his +depth. Unluckily the sea of life deepens rather fast. + +Malbone had known Hope from her childhood, as he had known her cousins, +but their love dated from their meetings beside the sickbed of his +mother, over whom he had watched with unstinted devotion for weary +months. She had been very fond of the young girl, and her last earthly +act was to place Hope's hand in Philip's. Long before this final +consecration, Hope had won his heart more thoroughly, he fancied, than +any woman he had ever seen. The secret of this crowning charm was, +perhaps, that she was a new sensation. He had prided himself on his +knowledge of her sex, and yet here was a wholly new species. He was +acquainted with the women of society, and with the women who only wished +to be in society. But here was one who was in the chrysalis, and had +never been a grub, and had no wish to be a butterfly, and what should he +make of her? He was like a student of insects who had never seen a bee. +Never had he known a young girl who cared for the things which this +maiden sought, or who was not dazzled by things to which Hope seemed +perfectly indifferent. She was not a devotee, she was not a prude; +people seemed to amuse and interest her; she liked them, she declared, +as much as she liked books. But this very way of putting the thing +seemed like inverting the accustomed order of affairs in the polite +world, and was of itself a novelty. + +Of course he had previously taken his turn for a while among Kate's +admirers; but it was when she was very young, and, moreover, it was hard +to get up anything like a tender and confidential relation with that +frank maiden; she never would have accepted Philip Malbone for herself, +and she was by no means satisfied with his betrothal to her best +beloved. But that Hope loved him ardently there was no doubt, however it +might be explained. Perhaps it was some law of opposites, and she needed +some one of lighter nature than her own. As her resolute purpose charmed +him, so she may have found a certain fascination in the airy way in +which he took hold on life; he was so full of thought and intelligence; +possessing infinite leisure, and yet incapable of ennui; ready to oblige +every one, and doing so many kind acts at so little personal sacrifice; +always easy, graceful, lovable, and kind. In her just indignation at +those who called him heartless, she forgot to notice that his heart was +not deep. He was interested in all her pursuits, could aid her in all +her studies, suggest schemes for her benevolent desires, and could then +make others work for her, and even work himself. People usually loved +Philip, even while they criticised him; but Hope loved him first, and +then could not criticise him at all. + +Nature seems always planning to equalize characters, and to protect our +friends from growing too perfect for our deserts. Love, for instance, is +apt to strengthen the weak, and yet sometimes weakens the strong. Under +its influence Hope sometimes appeared at disadvantage. Had the object of +her love been indifferent, the result might have been otherwise, but her +ample nature apparently needed to contract itself a little, to find room +within Philip's heart. Not that in his presence she became vain or petty +or jealous; that would have been impossible. She only grew credulous and +absorbed and blind. A kind of gentle obstinacy, too, developed itself +in her nature, and all suggestion of defects in him fell off from her as +from a marble image of Faith. If he said or did anything, there was no +appeal; that was settled, let us pass to something else. + +I almost blush to admit that Aunt Jane--of whom it could by no means +be asserted that she was a saintly lady, but only a very charming +one--rather rejoiced in this transformation. + +"I like it better, my dear," she said, with her usual frankness, to +Kate. "Hope was altogether too heavenly for my style. When she first +came here, I secretly thought I never should care anything about her. +She seemed nothing but a little moral tale. I thought she would not last +me five minutes. But now she is growing quite human and ridiculous about +that Philip, and I think I may find her very attractive indeed." + + + + +VI. "SOME LOVER'S CLEAR DAY." + +"HOPE!" said Philip Malbone, as they sailed together in a little boat +the next morning, "I have come back to you from months of bewildered +dreaming. I have been wandering,--no matter where. I need you. You +cannot tell how much I need you." + +"I can estimate it," she answered, gently, "by my need of you." + +"Not at all," said Philip, gazing in her trustful face. "Any one whom +you loved would adore you, could he be by your side. You need nothing. +It is I who need you." + +"Why?" she asked, simply. + +"Because," he said, "I am capable of behaving very much like a fool. +Hope, I am not worthy of you; why do you love me? why do you trust me?" + +"I do not know how I learned to love you," said Hope. "It is a blessing +that was given to me. But I learned to trust you in your mother's +sick-room." + +"Ay," said Philip, sadly, "there, at least, I did my full duty." + +"As few would have done it," said Hope, firmly,--"very few. Such +prolonged self-sacrifice must strengthen a man for life." + +"Not always," said Philip, uneasily. "Too much of that sort of thing may +hurt one, I fancy, as well as too little. He may come to imagine that +the balance of virtue is in his favor, and that he may grant himself +a little indulgence to make up for lost time. That sort of recoil is a +little dangerous, as I sometimes feel, do you know?" + +"And you show it," said Hope, ardently, "by fresh sacrifices! How much +trouble you have taken about Emilia! Some time, when you are willing, +you shall tell me all about it. You always seemed to me a magician, but +I did not think that even you could restore her to sense and wisdom so +soon." + +Malbone was just then very busy putting the boat about; but when he had +it on the other tack, he said, "How do you like her?" + +"Philip," said Hope, her eyes filling with tears, "I wonder if you have +the slightest conception how my heart is fixed on that child. She has +always been a sort of dream to me, and the difficulty of getting any +letters from her has only added to the excitement. Now that she is here, +my whole heart yearns toward her. Yet, when I look into her eyes, a sort +of blank hopelessness comes over me. They seem like the eyes of some +untamable creature whose language I shall never learn. Philip, you are +older and wiser than I, and have shown already that you understand her. +Tell me what I can do to make her love me?" + +"Tell me how any one could help it?" said Malbone, looking fondly on the +sweet, pleading face before him. + +"I am beginning to fear that it can be helped," she said. Her thoughts +were still with Emilia. + +"Perhaps it can," said Phil, "if you sit so far away from people. Here +we are alone on the bay. Come and sit by me, Hope." + +She had been sitting amidships, but she came aft at once, and nestled +by him as he sat holding the tiller. She put her face against his knee, +like a tired child, and shut her eyes; her hair was lifted by the summer +breeze; a scent of roses came from her; the mere contact of anything +so fresh and pure was a delight. He put his arm around her, and all the +first ardor of passion came back to him again; he remembered how he had +longed to win this Diana, and how thoroughly she was won. + +"It is you who do me good," said she. "O Philip, sail as slowly as you +can." But he only sailed farther, instead of more slowly, gliding in +and out among the rocky islands in the light north wind, which, for a +wonder, lasted all that day,--dappling the bare hills of the Isle +of Shadows with a shifting beauty. The tide was in and brimming, the +fishing-boats were busy, white gulls soared and clattered round them, +and heavy cormorants flapped away as they neared the rocks. Beneath the +boat the soft multitudinous jellyfishes waved their fringed pendants, or +glittered with tremulous gold along their pink, translucent sides. +Long lines and streaks of paler blue lay smoothly along the enamelled +surface, the low, amethystine hills lay couched beyond them, and little +clouds stretched themselves in lazy length above the beautiful expanse. +They reached the ruined fort at last, and Philip, surrendering Hope to +others, was himself besieged by a joyous group. + +As you stand upon the crumbling parapet of old Fort Louis, you feel +yourself poised in middle air; the sea-birds soar and swoop around you, +the white surf lashes the rocks far below, the white vessels come and +go, the water is around you on all sides but one, and spreads its pale +blue beauty up the lovely bay, or, in deeper tints, southward towards +the horizon line. I know of no ruin in America which nature has so +resumed; it seems a part of the living rock; you cannot imagine it away. + +It is a single round, low tower, shaped like the tomb of Cacilia +Metella. But its stately position makes it rank with the vast sisterhood +of wave-washed strongholds; it might be King Arthur's Cornish Tyntagel; +it might be "the teocallis tower" of Tuloom. As you gaze down from its +height, all things that float upon the ocean seem equalized. Look at the +crowded life on yonder frigate, coming in full-sailed before the steady +sea-breeze. To furl that heavy canvas, a hundred men cluster like bees +upon the yards, yet to us upon this height it is all but a plaything for +the eyes, and we turn with equal interest from that thronged floating +citadel to some lonely boy in his skiff. + +Yonder there sail to the ocean, beating wearily to windward, a few slow +vessels. Inward come jubilant white schooners, wing-and-wing. There are +fishing-smacks towing their boats behind them like a family of children; +and there are slender yachts that bear only their own light burden. Once +from this height I saw the whole yacht squadron round Point Judith, and +glide in like a flock of land-bound sea-birds; and above them, yet more +snowy and with softer curves, pressed onward the white squadrons of the +sky. + +Within, the tower is full of debris, now disintegrated into one solid +mass, and covered with vegetation. You can lie on the blossoming clover, +where the bees hum and the crickets chirp around you, and can look +through the arch which frames its own fair picture. In the foreground +lies the steep slope overgrown with bayberry and gay with thistle +blooms; then the little winding cove with its bordering cliffs; and +the rough pastures with their grazing sheep beyond. Or, ascending the +parapet, you can look across the bay to the men making hay picturesquely +on far-off lawns, or to the cannon on the outer works of Fort Adams, +looking like vast black insects that have crawled forth to die. + +Here our young people spent the day; some sketched, some played croquet, +some bathed in rocky inlets where the kingfisher screamed above them, +some rowed to little craggy isles for wild roses, some fished, and then +were taught by the boatmen to cook their fish in novel island ways. The +morning grew more and more cloudless, and then in the afternoon a fog +came and went again, marching by with its white armies, soon met and +annihilated by a rainbow. + +The conversation that day was very gay and incoherent,--little fragments +of all manner of things; science, sentiment, everything: "Like a +distracted dictionary," Kate said. At last this lively maiden got Philip +away from the rest, and began to cross-question him. + +"Tell me," she said, "about Emilia's Swiss lover. She shuddered when she +spoke of him. Was he so very bad?" + +"Not at all," was the answer. "You had false impressions of him. He was +a handsome, manly fellow, a little over-sentimental. He had travelled, +and had been a merchant's clerk in Paris and London. Then he came back, +and became a boatman on the lake, some said, for love of her." + +"Did she love him?" + +"Passionately, as she thought." + +"Did he love her much?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Then why did she stop loving him?" + +"She does not hate him?" + +"No," said Kate, "that is what surprises me. Lovers hate, or those who +have been lovers. She is only indifferent. Philip, she had wound silk +upon a torn piece of his carte-de-visite, and did not know it till I +showed it to her. Even then she did not care." + +"Such is woman!" said Philip. + +"Nonsense," said Kate. "She had seen somebody whom she loved better, and +she still loves that somebody. Who was it? She had not been introduced +into society. Were there any superior men among her teachers? She is +just the girl to fall in love with her teacher, at least in Europe, +where they are the only men one sees." + +"There were some very superior men among them," said Philip. "Professor +Schirmer has a European reputation; he wears blue spectacles and a +maroon wig." + +"Do not talk so," said Kate. "I tell you, Emilia is not changeable, like +you, sir. She is passionate and constant. She would have married that +man or died for him. You may think that your sage counsels restrained +her, but they did not; it was that she loved some one else. Tell me +honestly. Do you not know that there is somebody in Europe whom she +loves to distraction?" + +"I do not know it," said Philip. + +"Of course you do not KNOW it," returned the questioner. "Do you not +think it?" + +"I have no reason to believe it." + +"That has nothing to do with it," said Kate. "Things that we believe +without any reason have a great deal more weight with us. Do you not +believe it?" + +"No," said Philip, point-blank. + +"It is very strange," mused Kate. "Of course you do not know much about +it. She may have misled you, but I am sure that neither you nor any one +else could have cured her of a passion, especially an unreasonable one, +without putting another in its place. If you did it without that, you +are a magician, as Hope once called you. Philip, I am afraid of you." + +"There we sympathize," said Phil. "I am sometimes afraid of myself, but +I discover within half an hour what a very commonplace land harmless +person I am." + +Meantime Emilia found herself beside her sister, who was sketching. +After watching Hope for a time in silence, she began to question her. + +"Tell me what you have been doing in all these years," she said. + +"O, I have been at school," said Hope. "First I went through the High +School; then I stayed out of school a year, and studied Greek and German +with my uncle, and music with my aunt, who plays uncommonly well. Then +I persuaded them to let me go to the Normal School for two years, and +learn to be a teacher." + +"A teacher!" said Emilia, with surprise. "Is it necessary that you +should be a teacher?" + +"Very necessary," replied Hope. "I must have something to do, you know, +after I leave school." + +"To do?" said the other. "Cannot you go to parties?" + +"Not all the time," said her sister. + +"Well," said Emilia, "in the mean time you can go to drive, or make +calls, or stay at home and make pretty little things to wear, as other +girls do." + +"I can find time for that too, little sister, when I need them. But I +love children, you know, and I like to teach interesting studies. I have +splendid health, and I enjoy it all. I like it as you love dancing, +my child, only I like dancing too, so I have a greater variety of +enjoyments." + +"But shall you not sometimes find it very hard?" said Emilia. + +"That is why I shall like it," was the answer. + +"What a girl you are!" exclaimed the younger sister. "You know +everything and can do everything." + +"A very short everything," interposed Hope. + +"Kate says," continued Emilia, "that you speak French as well as I do, +and I dare say you dance a great deal better; and those are the only +things I know." + +"If we both had French partners, dear," replied the elder maiden, "they +would soon find the difference in both respects. My dancing came by +nature, I believe, and I learned French as a child, by talking with my +old uncle, who was half a Parisian. I believe I have a good accent, +but I have so little practice that I have no command of the language +compared to yours. In a week or two we can both try our skill, as there +is to be a ball for the officers of the French corvette yonder," +and Hope pointed to the heavy spars, the dark canvas, and the high +quarter-deck which made the "Jean Hoche" seem as if she had floated out +of the days of Nelson. + +The calm day waned, the sun drooped to his setting amid a few golden +bars and pencilled lines of light. Ere they were ready for departure, +the tide had ebbed, and, in getting the boats to a practicable +landing-place, Malbone was delayed behind the others. As he at length +brought his boat to the rock, Hope sat upon the ruined fort, far above +him, and sang. Her noble contralto voice echoed among the cliffs down +to the smooth water; the sun went down behind her, and still she sat +stately and noble, her white dress looking more and more spirit-like +against the golden sky; and still the song rang on,-- + +"Never a scornful word should grieve thee, I'd smile on thee, sweet, as +the angels do; Sweet as thy smile on me shone ever, Douglas, Douglas, +tender and true." + +All sacredness and sweetness, all that was pure and brave and truthful, +seemed to rest in her. And when the song ceased at his summons, and she +came down to meet him,--glowing, beautiful, appealing, tender,--then all +meaner spells vanished, if such had ever haunted him, and he was hers +alone. + +Later that evening, after the household had separated, Hope went into +the empty drawing-room for a light. Philip, after a moment's hesitation, +followed her, and paused in the doorway. She stood, a white-robed +figure, holding the lighted candle; behind her rose the arched alcove, +whose quaint cherubs looked down on her; she seemed to have stepped +forth, the awakened image of a saint. Looking up, she saw his eager +glance; then she colored, trembled, and put the candle down. He came to +her, took her hand and kissed it, then put his hand upon her brow and +gazed into her face, then kissed her lips. She quietly yielded, but her +color came and went, and her lips moved as if to speak. For a moment he +saw her only, thought only of her. + +Then, even while he gazed into her eyes, a flood of other memories +surged over him, and his own eyes grew dim. His head swam, the lips he +had just kissed appeared to fade away, and something of darker, richer +beauty seemed to burn through those fair features; he looked through +those gentle eyes into orbs more radiant, and it was as if a countenance +of eager passion obliterated that fair head, and spoke with substituted +lips, "Behold your love." There was a thrill of infinite ecstasy in the +work his imagination did; he gave it rein, then suddenly drew it in and +looked at Hope. Her touch brought pain for an instant, as she laid her +hand upon him, but he bore it. Then some influence of calmness came; +there swept by him a flood of earlier, serener memories; he sat down in +the window-seat beside her, and when she put her face beside his, and +her soft hair touched his cheek, and he inhaled the rose-odor that +always clung round her, every atom of his manhood stood up to drive away +the intruding presence, and he again belonged to her alone. + +When he went to his chamber that night, he drew from his pocket a little +note in a girlish hand, which he lighted in the candle, and put upon the +open hearth to burn. With what a cruel, tinkling rustle the pages flamed +and twisted and opened, as if the fire read them, and collapsed again as +if in agonizing effort to hold their secret even in death! The closely +folded paper refused to burn, it went out again and again; while each +time Philip Malbone examined it ere relighting, with a sort of +vague curiosity, to see how much passion had already vanished out of +existence, and how much yet survived. For each of these inspections he +had to brush aside the calcined portion of the letter, once so warm +and beautiful with love, but changed to something that seemed to him a +semblance of his own heart just then,--black, trivial, and empty. + +Then he took from a little folded paper a long tress of dark silken +hair, and, without trusting himself to kiss it, held it firmly in the +candle. It crisped and sparkled, and sent out a pungent odor, then +turned and writhed between his fingers, like a living thing in pain. +What part of us has earthly immortality but our hair? It dies not with +death. When all else of human beauty has decayed beyond corruption into +the more agonizing irrecoverableness of dust, the hair is still fresh +and beautiful, defying annihilation, and restoring to the powerless +heart the full association of the living image. These shrinking hairs, +they feared not death, but they seemed to fear Malbone. Nothing but the +hand of man could destroy what he was destroying; but his hand shrank +not, and it was done. + + + + +VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. + +AT the celebrated Oldport ball for the French officers, the merit of +each maiden was estimated by the number of foreigners with whom she +could talk at once, for there were more gentlemen than ladies, and not +more than half the ladies spoke French. Here Emilia was in her glory; +the ice being once broken, officers were to her but like so many +school-girls, and she rattled away to the admiral and the fleet captain +and two or three lieutenants at once, while others hovered behind the +circle of her immediate adorers, to pick up the stray shafts of what +passed for wit. Other girls again drove two-in-hand, at the most, in the +way of conversation; while those least gifted could only encounter one +small Frenchman in some safe corner, and converse chiefly by smiles and +signs. + +On the whole, the evening opened gayly. Newly arrived Frenchmen are apt +to be so unused to the familiar society of unmarried girls, that the +most innocent share in it has for them the zest of forbidden fruit, and +the most blameless intercourse seems almost a bonne fortune. Most of +these officers were from the lower ranks of French society, but they all +had that good-breeding which their race wears with such ease, and can +unhappily put off with the same. + +The admiral and the fleet captain were soon turned over to Hope, who +spoke French as she did English, with quiet grace. She found them +agreeable companions, while Emilia drifted among the elder midshipmen, +who were dazzling in gold lace if not in intellect. Kate fell to the +share of a vehement little surgeon, who danced her out of breath. Harry +officiated as interpreter between the governor of the State and a lively +young ensign, who yearned for the society of dignitaries. The governor +was quite aware that he himself could not speak French; the Frenchman +was quite unaware that he himself could not speak English; but with +Harry's aid they plunged boldly into conversation. Their talk happened +to fall on steam-engines, English, French, American; their comparative +cost, comparative power, comparative cost per horse power,--until Harry, +who was not very strong upon the steam-engine in his own tongue, and was +quite helpless on that point in any other, got a good deal astray among +the numerals, and implanted some rather wild statistics in the mind of +each. The young Frenchman was far more definite, when requested by the +governor to state in English the precise number of men engaged on board +the corvette. With the accuracy of his nation, he beamingly replied, +"Seeshundredtousand." + +As is apt to be the case in Oldport, other European nationalities beside +the French were represented, though the most marked foreign accent was +of course to be found among Americans just returned. There were European +diplomatists who spoke English perfectly; there were travellers who +spoke no English at all; and as usual each guest sought to practise +himself in the tongue he knew least. There was the usual eagerness among +the fashionable vulgar to make acquaintance with anything that combined +broken English and a title; and two minutes after a Russian prince had +seated himself comfortably on a sofa beside Kate, he was vehemently +tapped on the shoulder by Mrs. Courtenay Brash with the endearing +summons: "Why! Prince, I didn't see as you was here. Do you set +comfortable where you be? Come over to this window, and tell all you +know!" + +The prince might have felt that his summons was abrupt, but knew not +that it was ungrammatical, and so was led away in triumph. He had been +but a month or two in this country, and so spoke our language no more +correctly than Mrs. Brash, but only with more grace. There was no great +harm in Mrs. Brash; like most loquacious people, she was kind-hearted, +with a tendency to corpulence and good works. She was also afflicted +with a high color, and a chronic eruption of diamonds. Her husband +had an eye for them, having begun life as a jeweller's apprentice, and +having developed sufficient sharpness of vision in other directions to +become a millionnaire, and a Congressman, and to let his wife do as she +pleased. + +What goes forth from the lips may vary in dialect, but wine and oysters +speak the universal language. The supper-table brought our party +together, and they compared notes. + +"Parties are very confusing," philosophized Hope,--"especially when +waiters and partners dress so much alike. Just now I saw an ill-looking +man elbowing his way up to Mrs. Meredith, and I thought he was bringing +her something on a plate. Instead of that, it was his hand he held out, +and she put hers into it; and I was told that he was one of the leaders +of society. There are very few gentlemen here whom I could positively +tell from the waiters by their faces, and yet Harry says the fast set +are not here." + +"Talk of the angels!" said Philip. "There come the Inglesides." + +Through the door of the supper-room they saw entering the drawing-room +one of those pretty, fair-haired women who grow older up to twenty-five +and then remain unchanged till sixty. She was dressed in the loveliest +pale blue silk, very low in the neck, and she seemed to smile on all +with her white teeth and her white shoulders. This was Mrs. Ingleside. +With her came her daughter Blanche, a pretty blonde, whose bearing +seemed at first as innocent and pastoral as her name. Her dress was of +spotless white, what there was of it; and her skin was so snowy, you +could hardly tell where the dress ended. Her complexion was exquisite, +her eyes of the softest blue; at twenty-three she did not look more +than seventeen; and yet there was such a contrast between these virginal +traits, and the worn, faithless, hopeless expression, that she looked, +as Philip said, like a depraved lamb. Does it show the higher nature +of woman, that, while "fast young men" are content to look like +well-dressed stable boys and billiard-markers, one may observe that +girls of the corresponding type are apt to addict themselves to white +and rosebuds, and pose themselves for falling angels? + +Mrs. Ingleside was a stray widow (from New Orleans via Paris), into +whose antecedents it was best not to inquire too closely. After many +ups and downs, she was at present up. It was difficult to state with +certainty what bad deed she had ever done, or what good deed. She simply +lived by her wits, and perhaps by some want of that article in her +male friends. Her house was a sort of gentlemanly clubhouse, where the +presence of two women offered a shade less restraint than if there had +been men alone. She was amiable and unscrupulous, went regularly to +church, and needed only money to be the most respectable and fastidious +of women. It was always rather a mystery who paid for her charming +little dinners; indeed, several things in her demeanor were +questionable, but as the questions were never answered, no harm was +done, and everybody invited her because everybody else did. Had she +committed some graceful forgery tomorrow, or some mild murder the next +day, nobody would have been surprised, and all her intimate friends +would have said it was what they had always expected. + +Meantime the entertainment went on. + +"I shall not have scalloped oysters in heaven," lamented Kate, as she +finished with healthy appetite her first instalment. + +"Are you sure you shall not?" said the sympathetic Hope, who would have +eagerly followed Kate into Paradise with a supply of whatever she liked +best. + +"I suppose you will, darling," responded Kate, "but what will you care? +It seems hard that those who are bad enough to long for them should not +be good enough to earn them." + +At this moment Blanche Ingleside and her train swept into the +supper-room; the girls cleared a passage, their attendant youths +collected chairs. Blanche tilted hers slightly against a wall, professed +utter exhaustion, and demanded a fresh bottle of champagne in a voice +that showed no signs of weakness. Presently a sheepish youth drew near +the noisy circle. + +"Here comes that Talbot van Alsted," said Blanche, bursting at last into +a loud whisper. "What a goose he is, to be sure! Dear baby, it promised +its mother it wouldn't drink wine for two months. Let's all drink with +him. Talbot, my boy, just in time! Fill your glass. Stosst an!" + +And Blanche and her attendant spirits in white muslin thronged around +the weak boy, saw him charged with the three glasses that were all his +head could stand, and sent him reeling home to his mother. Then they +looked round for fresh worlds to conquer. + +"There are the Maxwells!" said Miss Ingleside, without lowering +her voice. "Who is that party in the high-necked dress? Is she the +schoolmistress? Why do they have such people here? Society is getting so +common, there is no bearing it. That Emily who is with her is too +good for that slow set. She's the school-girl we heard of at Nice, or +somewhere; she wanted to elope with somebody, and Phil Malbone stopped +her, worse luck. She will be for eloping with us, before long." + +Emilia colored scarlet, and gave a furtive glance at Hope, half of +shame, half of triumph. Hope looked at Blanche with surprise, made +a movement forward, but was restrained by the crowd, while the noisy +damsel broke out in a different direction. + +"How fiendishly hot it is here, though! Jones junior, put your elbow +through that window! This champagne is boiling. What a tiresome time we +shall have to-morrow, when the Frenchmen are gone! Ah, Count, there you +are at last! Ready for the German? Come for me? Just primed and up to +anything, and so I tell you!" + +But as Count Posen, kissing his hand to her, squeezed his way through +the crowd with Hal, to be presented to Hope, there came over Blanche's +young face such a mingled look of hatred and weariness and chagrin, that +even her unobserving friends saw it, and asked with tender commiseration +what was up. + +The dancing recommenced. There was the usual array of partners, +distributed by mysterious discrepancies, like soldiers' uniforms, so +that all the tall drew short, and all the short had tall. There were the +timid couples, who danced with trembling knees and eyes cast over their +shoulders; the feeble couples, who meandered aimlessly and got tangled +in corners; the rash couples, who tore breathlessly through the +rooms and brought up at last against the large white waistcoat of the +violon-cello. There was the professional lady-killer, too supreme and +indolent to dance, but sitting amid an admiring bevy of fair women, +where he reared his head of raven curls, and pulled ceaselessly +his black mustache. And there were certain young girls who, having +astonished the community for a month by the lowness of their dresses, +now brought to bear their only remaining art, and struck everybody dumb +by appearing clothed. All these came and went and came again, and had +their day or their night, and danced until the robust Hope went home +exhausted and left her more fragile cousins to dance on till morning. +Indeed, it was no easy thing for them to tear themselves away; Kate was +always in demand; Philip knew everybody, and had that latest aroma of +Paris which the soul of fashion covets; Harry had the tried endurance +which befits brothers and lovers at balls; while Emilia's foreign court +held out till morning, and one handsome young midshipman, in special, +kept revolving back to her after each long orbit of separation, like a +gold-laced comet. + +The young people lingered extravagantly late at that ball, for the +corvette was to sail next day, and the girls were willing to make the +most of it. As they came to the outer door, the dawn was inexpressibly +beautiful,--deep rose melting into saffron, beneath a tremulous morning +star. With a sudden impulse, they agreed to walk home, the fresh air +seemed so delicious. Philip and Emilia went first, outstripping the +others. + +Passing the Jewish cemetery, Kate and Harry paused a moment. The sky was +almost cloudless, the air was full of a thousand scents and songs, the +rose-tints in the sky were deepening, the star paling, while a few vague +clouds went wandering upward, and dreamed themselves away. + +"There is a grave in that cemetery," said Kate, gently, "where lovers +should always be sitting. It lies behind that tall monument; I cannot +see it for the blossoming boughs. There were two young cousins who loved +each other from childhood, but were separated, because Jews do not allow +such unions. Neither of them was ever married; and they lived to be +very old, the one in New Orleans, the other at the North. In their last +illnesses each dreamed of walking in the fields with the other, as in +their early days; and the telegraphic despatches that told their deaths +crossed each other on the way. That is his monument, and her grave was +made behind it; there was no room for a stone." + +Kate moved a step or two, that she might see the graves. The branches +opened clear. What living lovers had met there, at this strange hour, +above the dust of lovers dead? She saw with amazement, and walked on +quickly that Harry might not also see. + +It was Emilia who sat beside the grave, her dark hair drooping and +dishevelled, her carnation cheek still brilliant after the night's +excitement; and he who sat at her feet, grasping her hand in both of +his, while his lips poured out passionate words to which she eagerly +listened, was Philip Malbone. + +Here, upon the soil of a new nation, lay a spot whose associations +seemed already as old as time could make them,--the last footprint of +a tribe now vanished from this island forever,--the resting-place of a +race whose very funerals would soon be no more. Each April the robins +built their nests around these crumbling stones, each May they reared +their broods, each June the clover blossomed, each July the wild +strawberries grew cool and red; all around was youth and life and +ecstasy, and yet the stones bore inscriptions in an unknown language, +and the very graves seemed dead. + +And lovelier than all the youth of Nature, little Emilia sat there +in the early light, her girlish existence gliding into that drama of +passion which is older than the buried nations, older than time, than +death, than all things save life and God. + + + + +VIII. TALKING IT OVER. + +AUNT JANE was eager to hear about the ball, and called everybody into +her breakfast-parlor the next morning. She was still hesitating about +her bill of fare. + +"I wish somebody would invent a new animal," she burst forth. "How +those sheep bleated last night! I know it was an expression of shame for +providing such tiresome food." + +"You must not be so carnally minded, dear," said Kate. "You must be very +good and grateful, and not care for your breakfast. Somebody says that +mutton chops with wit are a great deal better than turtle without." + +"A very foolish somebody," pronounced Aunt Jane. "I have had a great +deal of wit in my life, and very little turtle. Dear child, do not +excite me with impossible suggestions. There are dropped eggs, I might +have those. They look so beautifully, if it only were not necessary to +eat them. Yes, I will certainly have dropped eggs. I think Ruth could +drop them; she drops everything else." + +"Poor little Ruth!" said Kate. "Not yet grown up!" + +"She will never grow up," said Aunt Jane, "but she thinks she is a +woman; she even thinks she has a lover. O that in early life I had +provided myself with a pair of twins from some asylum; then I should +have had some one to wait on me." + +"Perhaps they would have been married too," said Kate. + +"They should never have been married," retorted Aunt Jane. "They should +have signed a paper at five years old to do no such thing. Yesterday I +told a lady that I was enraged that a servant should presume to have a +heart, and the woman took it seriously and began to argue with me. To +think of living in a town where one person could be so idiotic! Such a +town ought to be extinguished from the universe." + +"Auntie!" said Kate, sternly, "you must grow more charitable." + +"Must I?" said Aunt Jane; "it will not be at all becoming. I have +thought about it; often have I weighed it in my mind whether to be +monotonously lovely; but I have always thrust it away. It must make life +so tedious. It is too late for me to change,--at least, anything about +me but my countenance, and that changes the wrong way. Yet I feel so +young and fresh; I look in my glass every morning to see if I have not +a new face, but it never comes. I am not what is called well-favored. In +fact, I am not favored at all. Tell me about the party." + +"What shall I tell?" said Kate. + +"Tell me what people were there," said Aunt Jane, "and how they were +dressed; who were the happiest and who the most miserable. I think I +would rather hear about the most miserable,--at least, till I have my +breakfast." + +"The most miserable person I saw," said Kate, "was Mrs. Meredith. It was +very amusing to hear her and Hope talk at cross-purposes. You know her +daughter Helen is in Paris, and the mother seemed very sad about her. A +lady was asking if something or other were true; 'Too true,' said Mrs. +Meredith; 'with every opportunity she has had no real success. It was +not the poor child's fault. She was properly presented; but as yet she +has had no success at all.' + +"Hope looked up, full of sympathy. She thought Helen must be some +disappointed school-teacher, and felt an interest in her immediately. +'Will there not be another examination?' she asked. 'What an odd +phrase,' said Mrs. Meredith, looking rather disdainfully at Hope. 'No, I +suppose we must give it up, if that is what you mean. The only remaining +chance is in the skating. I had particular attention paid to Helen's +skating on that very account. How happy shall I be, if my foresight is +rewarded!' + +"Hope thought this meant physical education, to be sure, and fancied +that handsome Helen Meredith opening a school for calisthenics in Paris! +Luckily she did not say anything. Then the other lady said, solemnly, +'My dear Mrs. Meredith, it is too true. No one can tell how things will +turn out in society. How often do we see girls who were not looked at in +America, and yet have a great success in Paris; then other girls go out +who were here very much admired, and they have no success at all.' + +"Hope understood it all then, but she took it very calmly. I was so +indignant, I could hardly help speaking. I wanted to say that it was +outrageous. The idea of American mothers training their children for +exhibition before what everybody calls the most corrupt court in Europe! +Then if they can catch the eye of the Emperor or the Empress by their +faces or their paces, that is called success!" + +"Good Americans when they die go to Paris," said Philip, "so says the +oracle. Naughty Americans try it prematurely, and go while they are +alive. Then Paris casts them out, and when they come back, their French +disrepute is their stock in trade." + +"I think," said the cheerful Hope, "that it is not quite so bad." Hope +always thought things not so bad. She went on. "I was very dull not +to know what Mrs. Meredith was talking about. Helen Meredith is a +warm-hearted, generous girl, and will not go far wrong, though her +mother is not as wise as she is well-bred. But Kate forgets that the few +hundred people one sees here or at Paris do not represent the nation, +after all." + +"The most influential part of it," said Emilia. + +"Are you sure, dear?" said her sister. "I do not think they influence +it half so much as a great many people who are too busy to go to either +place. I always remember those hundred girls at the Normal School, and +that they were not at all like Mrs. Meredith, nor would they care to be +like her, any more than she would wish to be like them." + +"They have not had the same advantages," said Emilia. + +"Nor the same disadvantages," said Hope. "Some of them are not so well +bred, and none of them speak French so well, for she speaks exquisitely. +But in all that belongs to real training of the mind, they seem to me +superior, and that is why I think they will have more influence." + +"None of them are rich, though, I suppose," said Emilia, "nor of very +nice families, or they would not be teachers. So they will not be so +prominent in society." + +"But they may yet become very prominent in society," said Hope,--"they +or their pupils or their children. At any rate, it is as certain that +the noblest lives will have most influence in the end, as that two and +two make four." + +"Is that certain?" said Philip. "Perhaps there are worlds where two and +two do not make just that desirable amount." + +"I trust there are," said Aunt Jane. "Perhaps I was intended to be born +in one of them, and that is why my housekeeping accounts never add up." + +Here hope was called away, and Emilia saucily murmured, "Sour grapes!" + +"Not a bit of it!" cried Kate, indignantly. "Hope might have anything in +society she wishes, if she would only give up some of her own plans, and +let me choose her dresses, and her rich uncles pay for them. Count Posen +told me, only yesterday, that there was not a girl in Oldport with such +an air as hers." + +"Not Kate herself?" said Emilia, slyly. + +"I?" said Kate. "What am I? A silly chit of a thing, with about a dozen +ideas in my head, nearly every one of which was planted there by Hope. +I like the nonsense of the world very well as it is, and without her I +should have cared for nothing else. Count Posen asked me the other day, +which country produced on the whole the most womanly women, France or +America. He is one of the few foreigners who expect a rational answer. +So I told him that I knew very little of Frenchwomen personally, but +that I had read French novels ever since I was born, and there was not +a woman worthy to be compared with Hope in any of them, except Consuelo, +and even she told lies." + +"Do not begin upon Hope," said Aunt Jane. "It is the only subject +on which Kate can be tedious. Tell me about the dresses. Were people +over-dressed or under-dressed?" + +"Under-dressed," said Phil. "Miss Ingleside had a half-inch strip of +muslin over her shoulder." + +Here Philip followed Hope out of the room, and Emilia presently followed +him. + +"Tell on!" said Aunt Jane. "How did Philip enjoy himself?" + +"He is easily amused, you know," said Kate. "He likes to observe people, +and to shoot folly as it flies." + +"It does not fly," retorted the elder lady. "I wish it did. You can +shoot it sitting, at least where Philip is." + +"Auntie," said Kate, "tell me truly your objection to Philip. I think +you did not like his parents. Had he not a good mother?" + +"She was good," said Aunt Jane, reluctantly, "but it was that kind of +goodness which is quite offensive." + +"And did you know his father well?" + +"Know him!" exclaimed Aunt Jane. "I should think I did. I have sat up +all night to hate him." + +"That was very wrong," said Kate, decisively. "You do not mean that. You +only mean that you did not admire him very much." + +"I never admired a dozen people in my life, Kate. I once made a list of +them. There were six women, three men, and a Newfoundland dog." + +"What happened?" said Kate. "The Is-raelites died after Pharaoh, or +somebody, numbered them. Did anything happen to yours?" + +"It was worse with mine," said Aunt Jane. "I grew tired of some and +others I forgot, till at last there was nobody left but the dog, and he +died." + +"Was Philip's father one of them?" + +"No." + +"Tell me about him," said Kate, firmly. + +"Ruth," said the elder lady, as her young handmaiden passed the door +with her wonted demureness, "come here; no, get me a glass of water. +Kate! I shall die of that girl. She does some idiotic thing, and then +she looks in here with that contented, beaming look. There is an air of +baseless happiness about her that drives me nearly frantic." + +"Never mind about that," persisted Kate. "Tell me about Philip's father. +What was the matter with him?" + +"My dear," Aunt Jane at last answered,--with that fearful moderation +to which she usually resorted when even her stock of superlatives was +exhausted,--"he belonged to a family for whom truth possessed even less +than the usual attractions." + +This neat epitaph implied the erection of a final tombstone over the +whole race, and Kate asked no more. + +Meantime Malbone sat at the western door with Harry, and was running +on with one of his tirades, half jest, half earnest, against American +society. + +"In America," he said, "everything which does not tend to money is +thought to be wasted, as our Quaker neighbor thinks the children's +croquet-ground wasted, because it is not a potato field." + +"Not just!" cried Harry. "Nowhere is there more respect for those who +give their lives to intellectual pursuits." + +"What are intellectual pursuits?" said Philip. "Editing daily +newspapers? Teaching arithmetic to children? I see no others flourishing +hereabouts." + +"Science and literature," answered Harry. + +"Who cares for literature in America," said Philip, "after a man rises +three inches above the newspaper level? Nobody reads Thoreau; only an +insignificant fraction read Emerson, or even Hawthorne. The majority of +people have hardly even heard their names. What inducement has a writer? +Nobody has any weight in America who is not in Congress, and nobody gets +into Congress without the necessity of bribing or button-holing men whom +he despises." + +"But you do not care for public life?" said Harry. + +"No," said Malbone, "therefore this does not trouble me, but it troubles +you. I am content. My digestion is good. I can always amuse myself. Why +are you not satisfied?" + +"Because you are not," said Harry. "You are dissatisfied with men, and +so you care chiefly to amuse yourself with women and children." + +"I dare say," said Malbone, carelessly. "They are usually less +ungraceful and talk better grammar." + +"But American life does not mean grace nor grammar. We are all living +for the future. Rough work now, and the graces by and by." + +"That is what we Americans always say," retorted Philip. "Everything +is in the future. What guaranty have we for that future? I see none. We +make no progress towards the higher arts, except in greater quantities +of mediocrity. We sell larger editions of poor books. Our artists fill +larger frames and travel farther for materials; but a ten-inch canvas +would tell all they have to say." + +"The wrong point of view," said Hal. "If you begin with high art, you +begin at the wrong end. The first essential for any nation is to put +the mass of the people above the reach of want. We are all usefully +employed, if we contribute to that." + +"So is the cook usefully employed while preparing dinner," said Philip. +"Nevertheless, I do not wish to live in the kitchen." + +"Yet you always admire your own country," said Harry, "so long as you +are in Europe." + +"No doubt," said Philip. "I do not object to the kitchen at that +distance. And to tell the truth, America looks well from Europe. +No culture, no art seems so noble as this far-off spectacle of a +self-governing people. The enthusiasm lasts till one's return. Then +there seems nothing here but to work hard and keep out of mischief." + +"That is something," said Harry. + +"A good deal in America," said Phil. "We talk about the immorality of +older countries. Did you ever notice that no class of men are so apt +to take to drinking as highly cultivated Americans? It is a very +demoralizing position, when one's tastes outgrow one's surroundings. +Positively, I think a man is more excusable for coveting his neighbor's +wife in America than in Europe, because there is so little else to +covet." + +"Malbone!" said Hal, "what has got into you? Do you know what things you +are saying?" + +"Perfectly," was the unconcerned reply. "I am not arguing; I am only +testifying. I know that in Paris, for instance, I myself have no +temptations. Art and history are so delightful, I absolutely do not care +for the society even of women; but here, where there is nothing to do, +one must have some stimulus, and for me, who hate drinking, they are, at +least, a more refined excitement." + +"More dangerous," said Hal. "Infinitely more dangerous, in the morbid +way in which you look at life. What have these sickly fancies to do with +the career that opens to every brave man in a great nation?" + +"They have everything to do with it, and there are many for whom there +is no career. As the nation develops, it must produce men of high +culture. Now there is no place for them except as bookkeepers or +pedagogues or newspaper reporters. Meantime the incessant unintellectual +activity is only a sublime bore to those who stand aside." + +"Then why stand aside?" persisted the downright Harry. + +"I have no place in it but a lounging-place," said Malbone. "I do not +wish to chop blocks with a razor. I envy those men, born mere Americans, +with no ambition in life but to 'swing a railroad' as they say at the +West. Every morning I hope to wake up like them in the fear of God and +the love of money." + +"You may as well stop," said Harry, coloring a little. "Malbone, you +used to be my ideal man in my boyhood, but"-- + +"I am glad we have got beyond that," interrupted the other, cheerily, +"I am only an idler in the land. Meanwhile, I have my little +interests,--read, write, sketch--" + +"Flirt?" put in Hal, with growing displeasure. + +"Not now," said Phil, patting his shoulder, with imperturbable +good-nature. "Our beloved has cured me of that. He who has won the pearl +dives no more." + +"Do not let us speak of Hope," said Harry. "Everything that you have +been asserting Hope's daily life disproves." + +"That may be," answered Malbone, heartily. "But, Hal, I never flirted; +I always despised it. It was always a grande passion with me, or what +I took for such. I loved to be loved, I suppose; and there was always +something new and fascinating to be explored in a human heart, that is, +a woman's." + +"Some new temple to profane?" asked Hal severely. + +"Never!" said Philip. "I never profaned it. If I deceived, I shared the +deception, at least for a time; and, as for sensuality, I had none in +me." + +"Did you have nothing worse? Rousseau ends where Tom Jones begins." + +"My temperament saved me," said Philip. "A woman is not a woman to me, +without personal refinement." + +"Just what Rousseau said," replied Harry. + +"I acted upon it," answered Malbone. "No one dislikes Blanche Ingleside +and her demi monde more than I." + +"You ought not," was the retort. "You help to bring other girls to her +level." + +"Whom?" said Malbone, startled. + +"Emilia." + +"Emilia?" repeated the other, coloring crimson. "I, who have warned her +against Blanche's society." + +"And have left her no other resource," said Harry, coloring still more. +"Malbone, you have gained (unconsciously of course) too much power +over that girl, and the only effect of it is, to keep her in perpetual +excitement. So she seeks Blanche, as she would any other strong +stimulant. Hope does not seem to have discovered this, but Kate has, and +I have." + +Hope came in, and Harry went out. The next day he came to Philip and +apologized most warmly for his unjust and inconsiderate words. Malbone, +always generous, bade him think no more about it, and Harry for that day +reverted strongly to his first faith. "So noble, so high-toned," he said +to Kate. Indeed, a man never appears more magnanimous than in forgiving +a friend who has told him the truth. + + + + +IX. DANGEROUS WAYS. + +IT was true enough what Harry had said. Philip Malbone's was that +perilous Rousseau-like temperament, neither sincere enough for safety, +nor false enough to alarm; the winning tenderness that thrills and +softens at the mere neighborhood of a woman, and fascinates by its +reality those whom no hypocrisy can deceive. It was a nature half +amiable, half voluptuous, that disarmed others, seeming itself unarmed. +He was never wholly ennobled by passion, for it never touched him deeply +enough; and, on the other hand, he was not hardened by the habitual +attitude of passion, for he was never really insincere. Sometimes it +seemed as if nothing stood between him and utter profligacy but a little +indolence, a little kindness, and a good deal of caution. + +"There seems no such thing as serious repentance in me," he had once +said to Kate, two years before, when she had upbraided him with some +desperate flirtation which had looked as if he would carry it as far as +gentlemen did under King Charles II. "How does remorse begin?" + +"Where you are beginning," said Kate. + +"I do not perceive that," he answered. "My conscience seems, after all, +to be only a form of good-nature. I like to be stirred by emotion, I +suppose, and I like to study character. But I can always stop when it is +evident that I shall cause pain to somebody. Is there any other motive?" + +"In other words," said she, "you apply the match, and then turn your +back on the burning house." + +Philip colored. "How unjust you are! Of course, we all like to play with +fire, but I always put it out before it can spread. Do you think I have +no feeling?" + +Kate stopped there, I suppose. Even she always stopped soon, if she +undertook to interfere with Malbone. This charming Alcibiades always +convinced them, after the wrestling was over, that he had not been +thrown. + +The only exception to this was in the case of Aunt Jane. If she had +anything in common with Philip,--and there was a certain element of +ingenuous unconsciousness in which they were not so far unlike,--it only +placed them in the more complete antagonism. Perhaps if two beings were +in absolutely no respect alike, they never could meet even for purposes +of hostility; there must be some common ground from which the aversion +may proceed. Moreover, in this case Aunt Jane utterly disbelieved in +Malbone because she had reason to disbelieve in his father, and +the better she knew the son the more she disliked the father +retrospectively. + +Philip was apt to be very heedless of such aversions,--indeed, he had +few to heed,--but it was apparent that Aunt Jane was the only person +with whom he was not quite at ease. Still, the solicitude did not +trouble him very much, for he instinctively knew that it was not his +particular actions which vexed her, so much as his very temperament and +atmosphere,--things not to be changed. So he usually went his way; and +if he sometimes felt one of her sharp retorts, could laugh it off that +day and sleep it off before the next morning. + +For you may be sure that Philip was very little troubled by inconvenient +memories. He never had to affect forgetfulness of anything. The past +slid from him so easily, he forgot even to try to forget. He liked to +quote from Emerson, "What have I to do with repentance?" "What have my +yesterday's errors," he would say, "to do with the life of to-day?" + +"Everything," interrupted Aunt Jane, "for you will repeat them to-day, +if you can." + +"Not at all," persisted he, accepting as conversation what she meant as +a stab. "I may, indeed, commit greater errors,"--here she grimly nodded, +as if she had no doubt of it,--"but never just the same. To-day must +take thought for itself." + +"I wish it would," she said, gently, and then went on with her own +thoughts while he was silent. Presently she broke out again in her +impulsive way. + +"Depend upon it," she said, "there is very little direct retribution in +this world." + +Phil looked up, quite pleased at her indorsing one of his favorite +views. She looked, as she always did, indignant at having said anything +to please him. + +"Yes," said she, "it is the indirect retribution that crushes. I've seen +enough of that, God knows. Kate, give me my thimble." + +Malbone had that smooth elasticity of surface which made even Aunt +Jane's strong fingers slip from him as they might from a fish, or from +the soft, gelatinous stem of the water-target. Even in this case he only +laughed good-naturedly, and went out, whistling like a mocking-bird, to +call the children round him. + +Toward the more wayward and impulsive Emilia the good lady was far more +merciful. With all Aunt Jane's formidable keenness, she was a little apt +to be disarmed by youth and beauty, and had no very stern retributions +except for those past middle age. Emilia especially charmed her while +she repelled. There was no getting beyond a certain point with this +strange girl, any more than with Philip; but her depths tantalized, +while his apparent shallows were only vexatious. Emilia was usually +sweet, winning, cordial, and seemed ready to glide into one's heart as +softly as she glided into the room; she liked to please, and found it +very easy. Yet she left the impression that this smooth and delicate +loveliness went but an inch beyond the surface, like the soft, thin foam +that enamels yonder tract of ocean, belongs to it, is a part of it, yet +is, after all, but a bequest of tempests, and covers only a dark abyss +of crossing currents and desolate tangles of rootless kelp. Everybody +was drawn to her, yet not a soul took any comfort in her. Her very voice +had in it a despairing sweetness, that seemed far in advance of her +actual history; it was an anticipated miserere, a perpetual dirge, where +nothing had yet gone down. So Aunt Jane, who was wont to be perfectly +decisive in her treatment of every human being, was fluctuating and +inconsistent with Emilia. She could not help being fascinated by the +motherless child, and yet scorned herself for even the doubting love she +gave. + +"Only think, auntie," said Kate, "how you kissed Emilia, yesterday!" + +"Of course I did," she remorsefully owned. "I have kissed her a great +many times too often. I never will kiss her again. There is nothing but +sorrow to be found in loving her, and her heart is no larger than her +feet. Today she was not even pretty! If it were not for her voice, I +think I should never wish to see her again." + +But when that soft, pleading voice came once more, and Emilia asked +perhaps for luncheon, in tones fit for Ophelia, Aunt Jane instantly +yielded. One might as well have tried to enforce indignation against the +Babes in the Wood. + +This perpetual mute appeal was further strengthened by a peculiar +physical habit in Emilia, which first alarmed the household, but soon +ceased to inspire terror. She fainted very easily, and had attacks at +long intervals akin to faintness, and lasting for several hours. The +physicians pronounced them cataleptic in their nature, saying that they +brought no danger, and that she would certainly outgrow them. They were +sometimes produced by fatigue, sometimes by excitement, but they brought +no agitation with them, nor any development of abnormal powers. They +simply wrapped her in a profound repose, from which no effort could +rouse her, till the trance passed by. Her eyes gradually closed, +her voice died away, and all movement ceased, save that her eyelids +sometimes trembled without opening, and sweet evanescent expressions +chased each other across her face,--the shadows of thoughts unseen. +For a time she seemed to distinguish the touch of different persons by +preference or pain; but soon even this sign of recognition vanished, and +the household could only wait and watch, while she sank into deeper and +yet deeper repose. + +There was something inexpressibly sweet, appealing, and touching in this +impenetrable slumber, when it was at its deepest. She looked so young, +so delicate, so lovely; it was as if she had entered into a shrine, and +some sacred curtain had been dropped to shield her from all the cares +and perplexities of life. She lived, she breathed, and yet all the +storms of life could but beat against her powerless, as the waves beat +on the shore. Safe in this beautiful semblance of death,--her pulse a +little accelerated, her rich color only softened, her eyelids drooping, +her exquisite mouth curved into the sweetness it had lacked in +waking,--she lay unconscious and supreme, the temporary monarch of the +household, entranced upon her throne. A few hours having passed, she +suddenly waked, and was a self-willed, passionate girl once more. When +she spoke, it was with a voice wholly natural; she had no recollection +of what had happened, and no curiosity to learn. + + + + +X. REMONSTRANCES. + +IT had been a lovely summer day, with a tinge of autumnal coolness +toward nightfall, ending in what Aunt Jane called a "quince-jelly +sunset." Kate and Emilia sat upon the Blue Rocks, earnestly talking. + +"Promise, Emilia!" said Kate. + +Emilia said nothing. + +"Remember," continued Kate, "he is Hope's betrothed. Promise, promise, +promise!" + +Emilia looked into Kate's face and saw it flushed with a generous +eagerness, that called forth an answering look in her. She tried to +speak, and the words died into silence. There was a pause, while each +watched the other. + +When one soul is grappling with another for life, such silence may last +an instant too long; and Kate soon felt her grasp slipping. Momentarily +the spell relaxed. Other thoughts swelled up, and Emilia's eyes began to +wander; delicious memories stole in, of walks through blossoming paths +with Malbone,--of lingering steps, half-stifled words and sentences left +unfinished;--then, alas! of passionate caresses,--other blossoming paths +that only showed the way to sin, but had never quite led her there, she +fancied. There was so much to tell, more than could ever be explained or +justified. Moment by moment, farther and farther strayed the wandering +thoughts, and when the poor child looked in Kate's face again, the mist +between them seemed to have grown wide and dense, as if neither eyes +nor words nor hands could ever meet again. When she spoke it was to say +something evasive and unimportant, and her voice was as one from the +grave. + +In truth, Philip had given Emilia his heart to play with at Neuchatel, +that he might beguile her from an attachment they had all regretted. The +device succeeded. The toy once in her hand, the passionate girl had kept +it, had clung to him with all her might; he could not shake her off. Nor +was this the worst, for to his dismay he found himself responding to +her love with a self-abandonment of ardor for which all former loves had +been but a cool preparation. He had not intended this; it seemed hardly +his fault: his intentions had been good, or at least not bad. This +piquant and wonderful fruit of nature, this girlish soul, he had merely +touched it and it was his. Its mere fragrance was intoxicating. Good +God! what should he do with it? + +No clear answer coming, he had drifted on with that terrible facility +for which years of self-indulged emotion had prepared him. Each step, +while it was intended to be the last, only made some other last step +needful. + +He had begun wrong, for he had concealed his engagement, fancying that +he could secure a stronger influence over this young girl without the +knowledge. He had come to her simply as a friend of her Transatlantic +kindred; and she, who was always rather indifferent to them, asked no +questions, nor made the discovery till too late. Then, indeed, she +had burst upon him with an impetuous despair that had alarmed him. +He feared, not that she would do herself any violence, for she had +a childish dread of death, but that she would show some desperate +animosity toward Hope, whenever they should meet. After a long struggle, +he had touched, not her sense of justice, for she had none, but her love +for him; he had aroused her tenderness and her pride. + +Without his actual assurance, she yet believed that he would release +himself in some way from his betrothal, and love only her. + +Malbone had fortunately great control over Emilia when near her, and +could thus keep the sight of this stormy passion from the pure and +unconscious Hope. But a new distress opened before him, from the time +when he again touched Hope's hand. The close intercourse of the voyage +had given him for the time almost a surfeit of the hot-house atmosphere +of Emilia's love. The first contact of Hope's cool, smooth fingers, +the soft light of her clear eyes, the breezy grace of her motions, the +rose-odors that clung around her, brought back all his early passion. +Apart from this voluptuousness of the heart into which he had fallen, +Malbone's was a simple and unspoiled nature; he had no vices, and had +always won popularity too easily to be obliged to stoop for it; so all +that was noblest in him paid allegiance to Hope. From the moment they +again met, his wayward heart reverted to her. He had been in a dream, he +said to himself; he would conquer it and be only hers; he would go away +with her into the forests and green fields she loved, or he would share +in the life of usefulness for which she yearned. But then, what was he +to do with this little waif from the heart's tropics,--once tampered +with, in an hour of mad dalliance, and now adhering in-separably to his +life? Supposing him ready to separate from her, could she be detached +from him? + +Kate's anxieties, when she at last hinted them to Malbone, only sent him +further into revery. "How is it," he asked himself, "that when I only +sought to love and be loved, I have thus entangled myself in the fate of +others? How is one's heart to be governed? Is there any such governing? +Mlle. Clairon complained that, so soon as she became seriously attached +to any one, she was sure to meet somebody else whom she liked better. +Have human hearts," he said, "or at least, has my heart, no more +stability than this?" + +It did not help the matter when Emilia went to stay awhile with Mrs. +Meredith. The event came about in this way. Hope and Kate had been to a +dinner-party, and were as usual reciting their experiences to Aunt Jane. + +"Was it pleasant?" said that sympathetic lady. + +"It was one of those dreadfully dark dining-rooms," said Hope, seating +herself at the open window. + +"Why do they make them look so like tombs?" said Kate. + +"Because," said her aunt, "most Americans pass from them to the tomb, +after eating such indigestible things. There is a wish for a gentle +transition." + +"Aunt Jane," said Hope, "Mrs. Meredith asks to have a little visit from +Emilia. Do you think she had better go?" + +"Mrs. Meredith?" asked Aunt Jane. "Is that woman alive yet?" + +"Why, auntie!" said Kate. "We were talking about her only a week ago." + +"Perhaps so," conceded Aunt Jane, reluctantly. "But it seems to me she +has great length of days!" + +"How very improperly you are talking, dear!" said Kate. "She is not more +than forty, and you are--" + +"Fifty-four," interrupted the other. + +"Then she has not seen nearly so many days as you." + +"But they are such long days! That is what I must have meant. One of her +days is as long as three of mine. She is so tiresome!" + +"She does not tire you very often," said Kate. + +"She comes once a year," said Aunt Jane. "And then it is not to see +me. She comes out of respect to the memory of my great-aunt, with whom +Talleyrand fell in love, when he was in America, before Mrs. Meredith +was born. Yes, Emilia may as well go." + +So Emilia went. To provide her with companionship, Mrs. Meredith kindly +had Blanche Ingleside to stay there also. Blanche stayed at different +houses a good deal. To do her justice, she was very good company, when +put upon her best behavior, and beyond the reach of her demure mamma. +She was always in spirits, often good-natured, and kept everything in +lively motion, you may be sure. She found it not unpleasant, in rich +houses, to escape some of those little domestic parsimonies which +the world saw not in her own; and to secure this felicity she could +sometimes lay great restraints upon herself, for as much as twenty-four +hours. She seemed a little out of place, certainly, amid the precise +proprieties of Mrs. Meredith's establishment. But Blanche and her mother +still held their place in society, and it was nothing to Mrs. Meredith +who came to her doors, but only from what other doors they came. + +She would have liked to see all "the best houses" connected by secret +galleries or underground passages, of which she and a few others should +hold the keys. A guest properly presented could then go the rounds of +all unerringly, leaving his card at each, while improper acquaintances +in vain howled for admission at the outer wall. For the rest, her ideal +of social happiness was a series of perfectly ordered entertainments, +at each of which there should be precisely the same guests, the same +topics, the same supper, and the same ennui. + + + + +XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI. + +MALBONE stood one morning on the pier behind the house. A two days' +fog was dispersing. The southwest breeze rippled the deep blue water; +sailboats, blue, red, and green, were darting about like white-winged +butterflies; sloops passed and repassed, cutting the air with the white +and slender points of their gaff-topsails. The liberated sunbeams spread +and penetrated everywhere, and even came up to play (reflected from +the water) beneath the shadowy, overhanging counters of dark vessels. +Beyond, the atmosphere was still busy in rolling away its vapors, +brushing the last gray fringes from the low hills, and leaving over them +only the thinnest aerial veil. Farther down the bay, the pale tower +of the crumbling fort was now shrouded, now revealed, then hung with +floating lines of vapor as with banners. + +Hope came down on the pier to Malbone, who was looking at the boats. +He saw with surprise that her calm brow was a little clouded, her lips +compressed, and her eyes full of tears. + +"Philip," she said, abruptly, "do you love me?" + +"Do you doubt it?" said he, smiling, a little uneasily. + +Fixing her eyes upon him, she said, more seriously: "There is a more +important question, Philip. Tell me truly, do you care about Emilia?" + +He started at the words, and looked eagerly in her face for an +explanation. Her expression only showed the most anxious solicitude. + +For one moment the wild impulse came up in his mind to put an entire +trust in this truthful woman, and tell her all. Then the habit of +concealment came back to him, the dull hopelessness of a divided duty, +and the impossibility of explanations. How could he justify himself to +her when he did not really know himself? So he merely said, "Yes." + +"She is your sister," he added, in an explanatory tone, after a pause; +and despised himself for the subterfuge. It is amazing how long a man +may be false in action before he ceases to shrink from being false in +words. + +"Philip," said the unsuspecting Hope, "I knew that you cared about her. +I have seen you look at her with so much affection; and then again I +have seen you look cold and almost stern. She notices it, I am sure she +does, this changeableness. But this is not why I ask the question. I +think you must have seen something else that I have been observing, and +if you care about her, even for my sake, it is enough." + +Here Philip started, and felt relieved. + +"You must be her friend," continued Hope, eagerly. "She has changed her +whole manner and habits very fast. Blanche Ingleside and that set seem +to have wholly controlled her, and there is something reckless in all +her ways. You are the only person who can help her." + +"How?" + +"I do not know how," said Hope, almost impatiently. "You know how. You +have wonderful influence. You saved her before, and will do it again. I +put her in your hands." + +"What can I do for her?" asked he, with a strange mingling of terror and +delight. + +"Everything," said she. "If she has your society, she will not care for +those people, so much her inferiors in character. Devote yourself to her +for a time." + +"And leave you?" said Philip, hesitatingly. + +"Anything, anything," said she. "If I do not see you for a month, I can +bear it. Only promise me two things. First, that you will go to her this +very day. She dines with Mrs. Ingleside." + +Philip agreed. + +"Then," said Hope, with saddened tones, "you must not say it was I who +sent you. Indeed you must not. That would spoil all. Let her think +that your own impulse leads you, and then she will yield. I know Emilia +enough for that." + +Malbone paused, half in ecstasy, half in dismay. Were all the events +of life combining to ruin or to save him? This young girl, whom he so +passionately loved, was she to be thrust back into his arms, and was he +to be told to clasp her and be silent? And that by Hope, and in the name +of duty? + +It seemed a strange position, even for him who was so eager for fresh +experiences and difficult combinations. At Hope's appeal he was to risk +Hope's peace forever; he was to make her sweet sisterly affection its +own executioner. In obedience to her love he must revive Emilia's. The +tender intercourse which he had been trying to renounce as a crime +must be rebaptized as a duty. Was ever a man placed, he thought, in a +position so inextricable, so disastrous? What could he offer Emilia? How +could he explain to her his position? He could not even tell her that it +was at Hope's command he sought her. + +He who is summoned to rescue a drowning man, knowing that he himself may +go down with that inevitable clutch around his neck, is placed in some +such situation as Philip's. Yet Hope had appealed to him so simply, had +trusted him so nobly! Suppose that, by any self-control, or wisdom, or +unexpected aid of Heaven, he could serve both her and Emilia, was it not +his duty? What if it should prove that he was right in loving them +both, and had only erred when he cursed himself for tampering with their +destinies? Perhaps, after all, the Divine Love had been guiding him, and +at some appointed signal all these complications were to be cleared, and +he and his various loves were somehow to be ingeniously provided for, +and all be made happy ever after. + +He really grew quite tender and devout over these meditations. Phil was +not a conceited fellow, by any means, but he had been so often told by +women that their love for him had been a blessing to their souls, that +he quite acquiesced in being a providential agent in that particular +direction. Considered as a form of self-sacrifice, it was not without +its pleasures. + +Malbone drove that afternoon to Mrs. Ingleside's charming abode, whither +a few ladies were wont to resort, and a great many gentlemen. He timed +his call between the hours of dining and driving, and made sure that +Emilia had not yet emerged. Two or three equipages beside his own were +in waiting at the gate, and gay voices resounded from the house. A +servant received him at the door, and taking him for a tardy guest, +ushered him at once into the dining-room. He was indifferent to this, +for he had been too often sought as a guest by Mrs. Ingleside to stand +on any ceremony beneath her roof. + +That fair hostess, in all the beauty of her shoulders, rose to greet +him, from a table where six or eight guests yet lingered over flowers +and wine. The gentlemen were smoking, and some of the ladies were trying +to look at ease with cigarettes. Malbone knew the whole company, +and greeted them with his accustomed ease. He would not have been +embarrassed if they had been the Forty Thieves. Some of them, indeed, +were not so far removed from that fabled band, only it was their +fortunes, instead of themselves, that lay in the jars of oil. + +"You find us all here," said Mrs. Ingleside, sweetly. "We will wait till +the gentlemen finish their cigars, before driving." + +"Count me in, please," said Blanche, in her usual vein of frankness. +"Unless mamma wishes me to conclude my weed on the Avenue. It would be +fun, though. Fancy the dismay of the Frenchmen and the dowagers!" + +"And old Lambert," said one of the other girls, delightedly. + +"Yes," said Blanche. "The elderly party from the rural districts, who +talks to us about the domestic virtues of the wife of his youth." + +"Thinks women should cruise with a broom at their mast-heads, like +Admiral somebody in England," said another damsel, who was rolling a +cigarette for a midshipman. + +"You see we do not follow the English style," said the smooth hostess +to Philip. "Ladies retiring after dinner! After all, it is a coarse +practice. You agree with me, Mr. Malbone?" + +"Speak your mind," said Blanche, coolly. "Don't say yes if you'd rather +not. Because we find a thing a bore, you've no call to say so." + +"I always say," continued the matron, "that the presence of woman is +needed as a refining influence." + +Malbone looked round for the refining influences. Blanche was tilted +back in her chair, with one foot on the rung of the chair before her, +resuming a loud-toned discourse with Count Posen as to his projected +work on American society. She was trying to extort a promise that she +should appear in its pages, which, as we all remember, she did. One +of her attendant nymphs sat leaning her elbows on the table, "talking +horse" with a gentleman who had an undoubted professional claim to a +knowledge of that commodity. Another, having finished her manufactured +cigarette, was making the grinning midshipman open his lips wider and +wider to receive it. Mrs. Ingleside was talking in her mincing way with +a Jew broker, whose English was as imperfect as his morals, and who +needed nothing to make him a millionnaire but a turn of bad luck for +somebody else. Half the men in the room would have felt quite ill at +ease in any circle of refined women, but there was not one who did not +feel perfectly unembarrassed around Mrs. Ingleside's board. + +"Upon my word," thought Malbone, "I never fancied the English +after-dinner practice, any more than did Napoleon. But if this goes on, +it is the gentlemen who ought to withdraw. Cannot somebody lead the way +to the drawing-room, and leave the ladies to finish their cigars?" + +Till now he had hardly dared to look at Emilia. He saw with a thrill of +love that she was the one person in the room who appeared out of place +or ill at ease. She did not glance at him, but held her cigarette in +silence and refused to light it. She had boasted to him once of having +learned to smoke at school. + +"What's the matter, Emmy?" suddenly exclaimed Blanche. "Are you under a +cloud, that you don't blow one?" + +"Blanche, Blanche," said her mother, in sweet reproof. "Mr. Malbone, +what shall I do with this wild girl? Such a light way of talking! But +I can assure you that she is really very fond of the society of +intellectual, superior men. I often tell her that they are, after all, +her most congenial associates. More so than the young and giddy." + +"You'd better believe it," said the unabashed damsel. "Take notice that +whenever I go to a dinner-party I look round for a clergyman to drink +wine with." + +"Incorrigible!" said the caressing mother. "Mr. Malbone would hardly +imagine you had been bred in a Christian land." + +"I have, though," retorted Blanche. "My esteemed parent always +accustomed me to give up something during Lent,--champagne, or the New +York Herald, or something." + +The young men roared, and, had time and cosmetics made it possible, Mrs. +Ingleside would have blushed becomingly. After all, the daughter was +the better of the two. Her bluntness was refreshing beside the mother's +suavity; she had a certain generosity, too, and in a case of real +destitution would have lent her best ear-rings to a friend. + +By this time Malbone had edged himself to Emilia's side. "Will you drive +with me?" he murmured in an undertone. + +She nodded slightly, abruptly, and he withdrew again. + +"It seems barbarous," said he aloud, "to break up the party. But I must +claim my promised drive with Miss Emilia." + +Blanche looked up, for once amazed, having heard a different programme +arranged. Count Posen looked up also. But he thought he must have +misunderstood Emilia's acceptance of his previous offer to drive her; +and as he prided himself even more on his English than on his gallantry, +he said no more. It was no great matter. Young Jones's dog-cart was at +the door, and always opened eagerly its arms to anybody with a title. + + + + +XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT. + +TEN days later Philip came into Aunt Jane's parlor, looking excited and +gloomy, with a letter in his hand. He put it down on her table without +its envelope,--a thing that always particularly annoyed her. A letter +without its envelope, she was wont to say, was like a man without a +face, or a key without a string,--something incomplete, preposterous. +As usual, however, he strode across her prejudices, and said, "I have +something to tell you. It is a fact." + +"Is it?" said Aunt Jane, curtly. "That is refreshing in these times." + +"A good beginning," said Kate. "Go on. You have prepared us for +something incredible." + +"You will think it so," said Malbone. "Emilia is engaged to Mr. John +Lambert." And he went out of the room. + +"Good Heavens!" said Aunt Jane, taking off her spectacles. "What a man! +He is ugly enough to frighten the neighboring crows. His face looks as +if it had fallen together out of chaos, and the features had come where +it had pleased Fate. There is a look of industrious nothingness about +him, such as busy dogs have. I know the whole family. They used to bake +our bread." + +"I suppose they are good and sensible," said Kate. + +"Like boiled potatoes, my dear," was the response,--"wholesome but +perfectly uninteresting." + +"Is he of that sort?" asked Kate. + +"No," said her aunt; "not uninteresting, but ungracious. But I like an +ungracious man better than one like Philip, who hangs over young girls +like a soft-hearted avalanche. This Lambert will govern Emilia, which is +what she needs." + +"She will never love him," said Kate, "which is the one thing she needs. +There is nothing that could not be done with Emilia by any person with +whom she was in love; and nothing can ever be done with her by anybody +else. No good will ever come of this, and I hope she will never marry +him." + +With this unusual burst, Kate retreated to Hope. Hope took the news more +patiently than any one, but with deep solicitude. A worldly marriage +seemed the natural result of the Ingleside influence, but it had not +occurred to anybody that it would come so soon. It had not seemed +Emilia's peculiar temptation; and yet nobody could suppose that she +looked at John Lambert through any glamour of the affections. + +Mr. John Lambert was a millionnaire, a politician, and a widower. The +late Mrs. Lambert had been a specimen of that cheerful hopelessness of +temperament that one finds abundantly developed among the middle-aged +women of country towns. She enjoyed her daily murders in the newspapers, +and wept profusely at the funerals of strangers. On every occasion, +however felicitous, she offered her condolences in a feeble voice, that +seemed to have been washed a great many times and to have faded. But she +was a good manager, a devoted wife, and was more cheerful at home than +elsewhere, for she had there plenty of trials to exercise her eloquence, +and not enough joy to make it her duty to be doleful. At last her poor, +meek, fatiguing voice faded out altogether, and her husband mourned +her as heartily as she would have bemoaned the demise of the most +insignificant neighbor. After her death, being left childless, he had +nothing to do but to make money, and he naturally made it. Having taken +his primary financial education in New England, he graduated at that +great business university, Chicago, and then entered on the public +practice of wealth in New York. + +Aunt Jane had perhaps done injustice to the personal appearance of Mr. +John Lambert. His features were irregular, but not insignificant, and +there was a certain air of slow command about him, which made some +persons call him handsome. He was heavily built, with a large, +well-shaped head, light whiskers tinged with gray, and a sort of dusty +complexion. His face was full of little curved wrinkles, as if it were +a slate just ruled for sums in long division, and his small blue eyes +winked anxiously a dozen different ways, as if they were doing the sums. +He seemed to bristle with memorandum-books, and kept drawing them from +every pocket, to put something down. He was slow of speech, and his very +heaviness of look added to the impression of reserved power about the +man. + +All his career in life had been a solid progress, and his boldest +speculations seemed securer than the legitimate business of less potent +financiers. Beginning business life by peddling gingerbread on a railway +train, he had developed such a genius for railway management as some +men show for chess or for virtue; and his accumulating property had the +momentum of a planet. + +He had read a good deal at odd times, and had seen a great deal of +men. His private morals were unstained, he was equable and amiable, had +strong good sense, and never got beyond his depth. He had travelled in +Europe and brought home many statistics, some new thoughts, and a few +good pictures selected by his friends. He spent his money liberally for +the things needful to his position, owned a yacht, bred trotting-horses, +and had founded a theological school. He submitted to these and other +social observances from a vague sense of duty as an American citizen; +his real interest lay in business and in politics. Yet he conducted +these two vocations on principles diametrically opposite. In business +he was more honest than the average; in politics he had no conception +of honesty, for he could see no difference between a politician and any +other merchandise. He always succeeded in business, for he thoroughly +understood its principles; in politics he always failed in the end, for +he recognized no principles at all. In business he was active, resolute, +and seldom deceived; in politics he was equally active, but was apt to +be irresolute, and was deceived every day of his life. In both cases +it was not so much from love of power that he labored, as from the +excitement of the game. The larger the scale the better he liked it; a +large railroad operation, a large tract of real estate, a big and noisy +statesman,--these investments he found irresistible. + +On which of his two sets of principles he would manage a wife remained +to be proved. It is the misfortune of what are called self-made men +in America, that, though early accustomed to the society of men of the +world, they often remain utterly unacquainted with women of the world, +until those charming perils are at last sprung upon them in full force, +at New York or Washington. John Lambert at forty was as absolutely +ignorant of the qualities and habits of a cultivated woman as of the +details of her toilet. The plain domesticity of his departed wife he had +understood and prized; he remembered her household ways as he did her +black alpaca dress; indeed, except for that item of apparel, she was not +so unlike himself. In later years he had seen the women of society; +he had heard them talk; he had heard men talk about them, wittily or +wickedly, at the clubs; he had perceived that a good many of them wished +to marry him, and yet, after all, he knew no more of them than of the +rearing of humming-birds or orchids,--dainty, tropical things which he +allowed his gardener to raise, he keeping his hands off, and only paying +the bills. Whether there was in existence a class of women who were both +useful and refined,--any intermediate type between the butterfly and the +drudge,--was a question which he had sometimes asked himself, without +having the materials to construct a reply. + +With imagination thus touched and heart unfilled, this man had been +bewitched from the very first moment by Emilia. He kept it to himself, +and heard in silence the criticisms made at the club-windows. To those +perpetual jokes about marriage, which are showered with such graceful +courtesy about the path of widowers, he had no reply; or at most +would only admit that he needed some elegant woman to preside over his +establishment, and that he had better take her young, as having habits +less fixed. But in his secret soul he treasured every tone of this +girl's voice, every glance of her eye, and would have kept in a casket +of gold and diamonds the little fragrant glove she once let fall. He +envied the penniless and brainless boys, who, with ready gallantry, +pushed by him to escort her to her carriage; and he lay awake at night +to form into words the answer he ought to have made, when she threw at +him some careless phrase, and gave him the opportunity to blunder. + +And she, meanwhile, unconscious of his passion, went by him in her +beauty, and caught him in the net she never threw. Emilia was always +piquant, because she was indifferent; she had never made an effort +in her life, and she had no respect for persons. She was capable of +marrying for money, perhaps, but the sacrifice must all be completed in +a single vow. She would not tutor nor control herself for the purpose. +Hand and heart must be duly transferred, she supposed, whenever the time +was up; but till then she must be free. + +This with her was not art, but necessity; yet the most accomplished art +could have devised nothing so effectual to hold her lover. His strong +sense had always protected him from the tricks of matchmaking mammas and +their guileless maids. Had Emilia made one effort to please him, once +concealed a dislike, once affected a preference, the spell might +have been broken. Had she been his slave, he might have become a very +unyielding or a very heedless despot. Making him her slave, she kept +him at the very height of bliss. This king of railways and purchaser of +statesmen, this man who made or wrecked the fortunes of others by his +whim, was absolutely governed by a reckless, passionate, inexperienced, +ignorant girl. + +And this passion was made all the stronger by being a good deal confined +to his own breast. Somehow it was very hard for him to talk sentiment +to Emilia; he instinctively saw she disliked it, and indeed he liked her +for not approving the stiff phrases which were all he could command. Nor +could he find any relief of mind in talking with others about her. It +enraged him to be clapped on the back and congratulated by his compeers; +and he stopped their coarse jokes, often rudely enough. As for the young +men at the club, he could not bear to hear them mention his darling's +name, however courteously. He knew well enough that for them the +betrothal had neither dignity nor purity; that they held it to be as +much a matter of bargain and sale as their worst amours. He would far +rather have talked to the theological professors whose salaries he +paid, for he saw that they had a sort of grave, formal tradition of the +sacredness of marriage. And he had a right to claim that to him it was +sacred, at least as yet; all the ideal side of his nature was suddenly +developed; he walked in a dream; he even read Tennyson. + +Sometimes he talked a little to his future brother-in-law, +Harry,--assuming, as lovers are wont, that brothers see sisters on their +ideal side. This was quite true of Harry and Hope, but not at all true +as regarded Emilia. She seemed to him simply a beautiful and ungoverned +girl whom he could not respect, and whom he therefore found it very hard +to idealize. Therefore he heard with a sort of sadness the outpourings +of generous devotion from John Lambert. + +"I don't know how it is, Henry," the merchant would gravely say, "I +can't get rightly used to it, that I feel so strange. Honestly, now, I +feel as if I was beginning life over again. It ain't a selfish feeling, +so I know there's some good in it. I used to be selfish enough, but I +ain't so to her. You may not think it, but if it would make her happy, I +believe I could lie down and let her carriage roll over me. By -----, +I would build her a palace to live in, and keep the lodge at the gate +myself, just to see her pass by. That is, if she was to live in it alone +by herself. I couldn't stand sharing her. It must be me or nobody." + +Probably there was no male acquaintance of the parties, however +hardened, to whom these fine flights would have seemed more utterly +preposterous than to the immediate friend and prospective bridesmaid, +Miss Blanche Ingleside. To that young lady, trained sedulously by a +devoted mother, life was really a serious thing. It meant the full rigor +of the marriage market, tempered only by dancing and new dresses. There +was a stern sense of duty beneath all her robing and disrobing; she +conscientiously did what was expected of her, and took her little +amusements meanwhile. It was supposed that most of the purchasers in the +market preferred slang and bare shoulders, and so she favored them with +plenty of both. It was merely the law of supply and demand. Had John +Lambert once hinted that he would accept her in decent black, she would +have gone to the next ball as a Sister of Charity; but where was the +need of it, when she and her mother both knew that, had she appeared as +the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, she would not have won him? So her only +resource was a cheerful acquiescence in Emilia's luck, and a judicious +propitiation of the accepted favorite. + +"I wouldn't mind playing Virtue Rewarded myself, young woman," said +Blanche, "at such a scale of prices. I would do it even to so slow an +audience as old Lambert. But you see, it isn't my line. Don't forget +your humble friends when you come into your property, that's all." +Then the tender coterie of innocents entered on some preliminary +consideration of wedding-dresses. + +When Emilia came home, she dismissed the whole matter lightly as a +settled thing, evaded all talk with Aunt Jane, and coolly said to Kate +that she had no objection to Mr. Lambert, and might as well marry him as +anybody else. + +"I am not like you and Hal, you know," said she. "I have no fancy for +love in a cottage. I never look well in anything that is not costly. I +have not a taste that does not imply a fortune. What is the use of love? +One marries for love, and is unhappy ever after. One marries for money, +and perhaps gets love after all. I dare say Mr. Lambert loves me, though +I do not see why he should." + +"I fear he does," said Kate, almost severely. + +"Fear?" said Emilia. + +"Yes," said Kate. "It is an unequal bargain, where one side does all the +loving." + +"Don't be troubled," said Emilia. "I dare say he will not love me long. +Nobody ever did!" And her eyes filled with tears which she dashed away +angrily, as she ran up to her room. + +It was harder yet for her to talk with Hope, but she did it, and that in +a very serious mood. She had never been so open with her sister. + +"Aunt Jane once told me," she said, "that my only safety was in marrying +a good man. Now I am engaged to one." + +"Do you love him, Emilia?" asked Hope, gravely. + +"Not much," said Emilia, honestly. "But perhaps I shall, by and by." + +"Emilia," cried Hope, "there is no such thing as happiness in a marriage +without love." + +"Mine is not without love," the girl answered. "He loves me. It +frightens me to see how much he loves me. I can have the devotion of a +lifetime, if I will. Perhaps it is hard to receive it in such a way, but +I can have it. Do you blame me very much?" + +Hope hesitated. "I cannot blame you so much, my child," she said, "as if +I thought it were money for which you cared. It seems to me that there +must be something beside that, and yet--" + +"O Hope, how I thank you," interrupted Emilia. "It is not money. You +know I do not care about money, except just to buy my clothes and +things. At least, I do not care about so much as he has,--more than a +million dollars, only think! Perhaps they said two million. Is it wrong +for me to marry him, just because he has that?" + +"Not if you love him." + +"I do not exactly love him, but O Hope, I cannot tell you about it. I am +not so frivolous as you think. I want to do my duty. I want to make you +happy too: you have been so sweet to me." + +"Did you think it would make me happy to have you married?" asked Hope, +surprised, and kissing again and again the young, sad face. And the two +girls went upstairs together, brought for the moment into more sisterly +nearness by the very thing that had seemed likely to set them forever +apart. + + + + +XIII. DREAMING DREAMS. + +SO short was the period between Emilia's betrothal and her marriage, +that Aunt Jane's sufferings over trousseau and visits did not last long. +Mr. Lambert's society was the worst thing to bear. + +"He makes such long calls!" she said, despairingly. "He should bring an +almanac with him to know when the days go by." + +"But Harry and Philip are here all the time," said Kate, the accustomed +soother. + +"Harry is quiet, and Philip keeps out of the way lately," she answered. +"But I always thought lovers the most inconvenient thing about a house. +They are more troublesome than the mice, and all those people who live +in the wainscot; for though the lovers make less noise, yet you have to +see them." + +"A necessary evil, dear," said Kate, with much philosophy. + +"I am not sure," said the complainant. "They might be excluded in the +deed of a house, or by the terms of the lease. The next house I take, I +shall say to the owner, 'Have you a good well of water on the premises? +Are you troubled with rats or lovers?' That will settle it." + +It was true, what Aunt Jane said about Malbone. He had changed his +habits a good deal. While the girls were desperately busy about the +dresses, he beguiled Harry to the club, and sat on the piazza, talking +sentiment and sarcasm, regardless of hearers. + +"When we are young," he would say, "we are all idealists in love. Every +imaginative boy has such a passion, while his intellect is crude and his +senses indifferent. It is the height of bliss. All other pleasures are +not worth its pains. With older men this ecstasy of the imagination is +rare; it is the senses that clutch or reason which holds." + +"Is that an improvement?" asked some juvenile listener. + +"No!" said Philip, strongly. "Reason is cold and sensuality hateful; a +man of any feeling must feed his imagination; there must be a woman of +whom he can dream." + +"That is," put in some more critical auditor, "whom he can love as a +woman loves a man." + +"For want of the experience of such a passion," Malbone went on, +unheeding, "nobody comprehends Petrarch. Philosophers and sensualists +all refuse to believe that his dream of Laura went on, even when he had +a mistress and a child. Why not? Every one must have something to which +his dreams can cling, amid the degradations of actual life, and this tie +is more real than the degradation; and if he holds to the tie, it will +one day save him." + +"What is the need of the degradation?" put in the clear-headed Harry. + +"None, except in weakness," said Philip. "A stronger nature may escape +it. Good God! do I not know how Petrarch must have felt? What sorrow +life brings! Suppose a man hopelessly separated from one whom he +passionately loves. Then, as he looks up at the starry sky, something +says to him: 'You can bear all these agonies of privation, loss of +life, loss of love,--what are they? If the tie between you is what you +thought, neither life nor death, neither folly nor sin, can keep her +forever from you.' Would that one could always feel so! But I am weak. +Then comes impulse, it thirsts for some immediate gratification; I +yield, and plunge into any happiness since I cannot obtain her. Then +comes quiet again, with the stars, and I bitterly reproach myself for +needing anything more than that stainless ideal. And so, I fancy, did +Petrarch." + +Philip was getting into a dangerous mood with his sentimentalism. No +lawful passion can ever be so bewildering or ecstatic as an unlawful +one. For that which is right has all the powers of the universe on +its side, and can afford to wait; but the wrong, having all those +vast forces against it, must hurry to its fulfilment, reserve nothing, +concentrate all its ecstasies upon to-day. Malbone, greedy of emotion, +was drinking to the dregs a passion that could have no to-morrow. + +Sympathetic persons are apt to assume that every refined emotion must +be ennobling. This is not true of men like Malbone, voluptuaries of the +heart. He ordinarily got up a passion very much as Lord Russell got up +an appetite,--he, of Spence's Anecdotes, who went out hunting for that +sole purpose, and left the chase when the sensation came. Malbone did +not leave his more spiritual chase so soon,--it made him too happy. +Sometimes, indeed, when he had thus caught his emotion, it caught him +in return, and for a few moments made him almost unhappy. This he liked +best of all; he nursed the delicious pain, knowing that it would die +out soon enough, there was no need of hurrying it to a close. At least, +there had never been need for such solicitude before. + +Except for his genius for keeping his own counsel, every acquaintance of +Malbone's would have divined the meaning of these reveries. As it +was, he was called whimsical and sentimental, but he was a man of +sufficiently assured position to have whims of his own, and could even +treat himself to an emotion or so, if he saw fit. Besides, he talked +well to anybody on anything, and was admitted to exhibit, for a man of +literary tastes, a good deal of sense. If he had engaged himself to +a handsome schoolmistress, it was his fancy, and he could afford it. +Moreover she was well connected, and had an air. And what more natural +than that he should stand at the club-window and watch, when his young +half-sister (that was to be) drove by with John Lambert? So every +afternoon he saw them pass in a vehicle of lofty description, with two +wretched appendages in dark blue broadcloth, who sat with their backs +turned to their masters, kept their arms folded, and nearly rolled off +at every corner. Hope would have dreaded the close neighborhood of those +Irish ears; she would rather have ridden even in an omnibus, could she +and Philip have taken all the seats. But then Hope seldom cared to drive +on the Avenue at all, except as a means of reaching the ocean, whereas +with most people it appears the appointed means to escape from that +spectacle. And as for the footmen, there was nothing in the conversation +worth their hearing or repeating; and their presence was a relief +to Emilia, for who knew but Mr. Lambert himself might end in growing +sentimental? + +Yet she did not find him always equally tedious. Their drives had some +variety. For instance, he sometimes gave her some lovely present before +they set forth, and she could feel that, if his lips did not yield +diamonds and rubies, his pockets did. Sometimes he conversed about +money and investments, which she rather liked; this was his strong and +commanding point; he explained things quite clearly, and they found, +with mutual surprise, that she also had a shrewd little brain for +those matters, if she would but take the trouble to think about them. +Sometimes he insisted on being tender, and even this was not so bad as +she expected, at least for a few minutes at a time; she rather enjoyed +having her hand pressed so seriously, and his studied phrases amused +her. It was only when he wished the conversation to be brilliant and +intellectual, that he became intolerable; then she must entertain him, +must get up little repartees, must tell him lively anecdotes, which he +swallowed as a dog bolts a morsel, being at once ready for the next. He +never made a comment, of course, but at the height of his enjoyment he +gave a quick, short, stupid laugh, that so jarred upon her ears, she +would have liked to be struck deaf rather than hear it again. + +At these times she thought of Malbone, how gifted he was, how +inexhaustible, how agreeable, with a faculty for happiness that would +have been almost provoking had it not been contagious. Then she looked +from her airy perch and smiled at him at the club-window, where he stood +in the most negligent of attitudes, and with every faculty strained in +observation. A moment and she was gone. + +Then all was gone, and a mob of queens might have blocked the way, +without his caring to discuss their genealogies, even with old General +Le Breton, who had spent his best (or his worst) years abroad, and was +supposed to have been confidential adviser to most of the crowned heads +of Europe. + +For the first time in his life Malbone found himself in the grasp of a +passion too strong to be delightful. For the first time his own heart +frightened him. He had sometimes feared that it was growing harder, but +now he discovered that it was not hard enough. + +He knew it was not merely mercenary motives that had made Emilia accept +John Lambert; but what troubled him was a vague knowledge that it was +not mere pique. He was used to dealing with pique in women, and had +found it the most manageable of weaknesses. It was an element of +spasmodic conscience than he saw here, and it troubled him. + +Something told him that she had said to herself: "I will be married, +and thus do my duty to Hope. Other girls marry persons whom they do not +love, and it helps them to forget. Perhaps it will help me. This is a +good man, they say, and I think he loves me." + +"Think?" John Lambert had adored her when she had passed by him without +looking at him; and now when the thought came over him that she would be +his wife, he became stupid with bliss. And as latterly he had thought of +little else, he remained more or less stupid all the time. + +To a man like Malbone, self-indulgent rather than selfish, this poor, +blind semblance of a moral purpose in Emilia was a great embarrassment. +It is a terrible thing for a lover when he detects conscience amidst +the armory of weapons used against him, and faces the fact that he +must blunt a woman's principles to win her heart. Philip was rather +accustomed to evade conscience, but he never liked to look it in the +face and defy it. + +Yet if the thought of Hope at this time came over him, it came as +a constraint, and he disliked it as such; and the more generous and +beautiful she was, the greater the constraint. He cursed himself that +he had allowed himself to be swayed back to her, and so had lost Emilia +forever. And thus he drifted on, not knowing what he wished for, but +knowing extremely well what he feared. + + + + +XIV. THE NEMESIS OF PASSION. + +MALBONE was a person of such ready, emotional nature, and such easy +expression, that it was not hard for Hope to hide from herself the +gradual ebbing of his love. Whenever he was fresh and full of spirits, +he had enough to overflow upon her and every one. But when other +thoughts and cares were weighing on him, he could not share them, nor +could he at such times, out of the narrowing channel of his own life, +furnish more than a few scanty drops for her. + +At these times he watched with torturing fluctuations the signs +of solicitude in Hope, the timid withdrawing of her fingers, the +questioning of her eyes, the weary drooping of her whole expression. +Often he cursed himself as a wretch for paining that pure and noble +heart. Yet there were moments when a vague inexpressible delight stole +in; a glimmering of shame-faced pleasure as he pondered on this visible +dawning of distrust; a sudden taste of freedom in being no longer +fettered by her confidence. By degrees he led himself, still half +ashamed, to the dream that she might yet be somehow weaned from him, and +leave his conscience free. By constantly building upon this thought, and +putting aside all others, he made room upon the waste of his life for a +house of cards, glittering, unsubstantial, lofty,--until there came some +sudden breath that swept it away; and then he began on it again. + +In one of those moments of more familiar faith which still alternated +with these cold, sad intervals, she asked him with some sudden impulse, +how he should feel if she loved another? She said it, as if guided by +an instinct, to sound the depth of his love for her. Starting with +amazement, he looked at her, and then, divining her feeling, he only +replied by an expression of reproach, and by kissing her hands with +an habitual tenderness that had grown easy to him,--and they were +such lovely hands! But his heart told him that no spent swimmer ever +transferred more eagerly to another's arms some precious burden beneath +which he was consciously sinking, than he would yield her up to any +one whom she would consent to love, and who could be trusted with the +treasure. Until that ecstasy of release should come, he would do his +duty,--yes, his duty. + +When these flushed hopes grew pale, as they soon did, he could at least +play with the wan fancies that took their place. Hour after hour, +while she lavished upon him the sweetness of her devotion, he was half +consciously shaping with his tongue some word of terrible revealing that +should divide them like a spell, if spoken, and then recalling it before +it left his lips. Daily and hourly he felt the last agony of a weak and +passionate nature,--to dream of one woman in another's arms. + +She, too, watched him with an ever-increasing instinct of danger, +studied with a chilly terror the workings of his face, weighed and +reweighed his words in absence, agonized herself with new and ever +new suspicions; and then, when these had accumulated beyond endurance, +seized them convulsively and threw them all away. Then, coming back to +him with a great overwhelming ardor of affection, she poured upon him +more and more in proportion as he gave her less. + +Sometimes in these moments of renewed affection he half gave words to +his remorse, accused himself before her of unnamed wrong, and besought +her to help him return to his better self. These were the most dangerous +moments of all, for such appeals made tenderness and patience appear +a duty; she must put away her doubts as sins, and hold him to her; she +must refuse to see his signs of faltering faith, or treat them as +mere symptoms of ill health. Should not a wife cling the closer to her +husband in proportion as he seemed alienated through the wanderings of +disease? And was not this her position? So she said within herself, and +meanwhile it was not hard to penetrate her changing thoughts, at least +for so keen an observer as Aunt Jane. Hope, at length, almost ceased to +speak of Malbone, and revealed her grief by this evasion, as the robin +reveals her nest by flitting from it. + +Yet there were times when he really tried to force himself into a +revival of this calmer emotion. He studied Hope's beauty with his eyes, +he pondered on all her nobleness. He wished to bring his whole heart +back to her--or at least wished that he wished it. But hearts that have +educated themselves into faithlessness must sooner or later share the +suffering they give. Love will be avenged on them. Nothing could +have now recalled this epicure in passion, except, possibly, a little +withholding or semi-coquetry on Hope's part, and this was utterly +impossible for her. Absolute directness was a part of her nature; she +could die, but not manouvre. + +It actually diminished Hope's hold on Philip, that she had at this +time the whole field to herself. Emilia had gone for a few weeks to the +mountains, with the household of which she was a guest. An ideal and +unreasonable passion is strongest in absence, when the dream is all pure +dream, and safe from the discrepancies of daily life. When the two girls +were together, Emilia often showed herself so plainly Hope's inferior, +that it jarred on Philip's fine perceptions. But in Emilia's absence the +spell of temperament, or whatever else brought them together, resumed +its sway unchecked; she became one great magnet of attraction, and all +the currents of the universe appeared to flow from the direction where +her eyes were shining. When she was out of sight, he needed to make no +allowance for her defects, to reproach himself with no overt acts of +disloyalty to Hope, to recognize no criticisms of his own intellect or +conscience. He could resign himself to his reveries, and pursue them +into new subtleties day by day. + +There was Mrs. Meredith's house, too, where they had been so happy. And +now the blinds were pitilessly closed, all but one where the Venetian +slats had slipped, and stood half open as if some dainty fingers held +them, and some lovely eyes looked through. He gazed so long and so often +on that silent house,--by day, when the scorching sunshine searched its +pores as if to purge away every haunting association, or by night, when +the mantle of darkness hung tenderly above it, and seemed to collect the +dear remembrances again,--that his fancy by degrees grew morbid, and +its pictures unreal. "It is impossible," he one day thought to himself, +"that she should have lived in that room so long, sat in that window, +dreamed on that couch, reflected herself in that mirror, breathed that +air, without somehow detaching invisible fibres of her being, delicate +films of herself, that must gradually, she being gone, draw together +into a separate individuality an image not quite bodiless, that replaces +her in her absence, as the holy Theocrite was replaced by the angel. If +there are ghosts of the dead, why not ghosts of the living also?" This +lover's fancy so pleased him that he brought to bear upon it the whole +force of his imagination, and it grew stronger day by day. To him, +thenceforth, the house was haunted, and all its floating traces of +herself visible or invisible,--from the ribbon that he saw entangled in +the window-blind to every intangible and fancied atom she had imparted +to the atmosphere,--came at last to organize themselves into one +phantom shape for him and looked out, a wraith of Emilia, through those +relentless blinds. As the vision grew more vivid, he saw the dim figure +moving through the house, wan, restless, tender, lingering where they +had lingered, haunting every nook where they had been happy once. In the +windy moanings of the silent night he could put his ear at the keyhole, +and could fancy that he heard the wild signals of her love and despair. + + + + +XV. ACROSS THE BAY. + +THE children, as has been said, were all devoted to Malbone, and this +was, in a certain degree, to his credit. But it is a mistake to call +children good judges of character, except in one direction, namely, +their own. They understand it, up to the level of their own stature; +they know who loves them, but not who loves virtue. Many a sinner has a +great affection for children, and no child will ever detect the sins of +such a friend; because, toward them, the sins do not exist. + +The children, therefore, all loved Philip, and yet they turned with +delight, when out-door pleasures were in hand, to the strong and adroit +Harry. Philip inclined to the daintier exercises, fencing, billiards, +riding; but Harry's vigorous physique enjoyed hard work. He taught +all the household to swim, for instance. Jenny, aged five, a sturdy, +deep-chested little thing, seemed as amphibious as himself. She could +already swim alone, but she liked to keep close to him, as all young +animals do to their elders in the water, not seeming to need actual +support, but stronger for the contact. Her favorite position, +however, was on his back, where she triumphantly clung, grasping his +bathing-dress with one hand, swinging herself to and fro, dipping +her head beneath the water, singing and shouting, easily shifting her +position when he wished to vary his, and floating by him like a little +fish, when he was tired of supporting her. It was pretty to see the +child in her one little crimson garment, her face flushed with delight, +her fair hair glistening from the water, and the waves rippling and +dancing round her buoyant form. As Harry swam farther and farther out, +his head was hidden from view by her small person, and she might have +passed for a red seabird rocking on the gentle waves. It was one of the +regular delights of the household to see them bathe. + +Kate came in to Aunt Jane's room, one August morning, to say that they +were going to the water-side. How differently people may enter a room! +Hope always came in as the summer breeze comes, quiet, strong, soft, +fragrant, resistless. Emilia never seemed to come in at all; you looked +up, and she had somehow drifted where she stood, pleading, evasive, +lovely. This was especially the case where one person was awaiting her +alone; with two she was more fearless, with a dozen she was buoyant, +and with a hundred she forgot herself utterly and was a spirit of +irresistible delight. + +But Kate entered any room, whether nursery or kitchen, as if it were the +private boudoir of a princess and she the favorite maid of honor. Thus +it was she came that morning to Aunt Jane. + +"We are going down to see the bathers, dear," said Kate. "Shall you miss +me?" + +"I miss you every minute," said her aunt, decisively. "But I shall do +very well. I have delightful times here by myself. What a ridiculous man +it was who said that it was impossible to imagine a woman's laughing at +her own comic fancies. I sit and laugh at my own nonsense very often." + +"It is a shame to waste it," said Kate. + +"It is a blessing that any of it is disposed of while you are not here," +said Aunt Jane. "You have quite enough of it." + +"We never have enough," said Kate. "And we never can make you repeat any +of yesterday's." + +"Of course not," said Aunt Jane. "Nonsense must have the dew on it, or +it is good for nothing." + +"So you are really happiest alone?" + +"Not so happy as when you are with me,--you or Hope. I like to have Hope +with me now; she does me good. Really, I do not care for anybody else. +Sometimes I think if I could always have four or five young kittens +by me, in a champagne-basket, with a nurse to watch them, I should be +happier. But perhaps not; they would grow up so fast!" + +"Then I will leave you alone without compunction," said Kate. + +"I am not alone," said Aunt Jane; "I have my man in the boat to watch +through the window. What a singular being he is! I think he spends hours +in that boat, and what he does I can't conceive. There it is, quietly +anchored, and there is he in it. I never saw anybody but myself who +could get up so much industry out of nothing. He has all his housework +there, a broom and a duster, and I dare say he has a cooking-stove and +a gridiron. He sits a little while, then he stoops down, then he goes to +the other end. Sometimes he goes ashore in that absurd little tub, with +a stick that he twirls at one end." + +"That is called sculling," interrupted Kate. + +"Sculling! I suppose he runs for a baked potato. Then he goes back. He +is Robinson Crusoe on an island that never keeps still a single instant. +It is all he has, and he never looks away, and never wants anything +more. So I have him to watch. Think of living so near a beaver or a +water-rat with clothes on! Good-by. Leave the door ajar, it is so warm." + +And Kate went down to the landing. It was near the "baptismal shore," +where every Sunday the young people used to watch the immersions; they +liked to see the crowd of spectators, the eager friends, the dripping +convert, the serene young minister, the old men and girls who burst +forth in song as the new disciple rose from the waves. It was the +weekly festival in that region, and the sunshine and the ripples made it +gladdening, not gloomy. Every other day in the week the children of the +fishermen waded waist-deep in the water, and played at baptism. + +Near this shore stood the family bathing-house; and the girls came down +to sit in its shadow and watch the swimming. It was late in August, and +on the first of September Emilia was to be married. + +Nothing looked cool, that day, but the bay and those who were going into +it. Out came Hope from the bathing-house, in a new bathing-dress of dark +blue, which was evidently what the others had come forth to behold. + +"Hope, what an imposter you are!" cried Kate instantly. "You declined +all my proffers of aid in cutting that dress, and now see how it fits +you! You never looked so beautifully in your life. There is not such +another bathing-dress in Oldport, nor such a figure to wear it." + +And she put both her arms round that supple, stately waist, that might +have belonged to a Greek goddess, or to some queen in the Nibelungen +Lied. + +The party watched the swimmers as they struck out over the clear +expanse. It was high noon; the fishing-boats were all off, but a few +pleasure-boats swung different ways at their moorings, in the perfect +calm. The white light-house stood reflected opposite, at the end of its +long pier; a few vessels lay at anchor, with their sails up to dry, but +with that deserted look which coasters in port are wont to wear. A few +fishes dimpled the still surface, and as the three swam out farther and +farther, their merry voices still sounded close at hand. Suddenly +they all clapped their hands and called; then pointed forward to the +light-house, across the narrow harbor. + +"They are going to swim across," said Kate. "What creatures they are! +Hope and little Jenny have always begged for it, and now Harry thinks it +is so still a day they can safely venture. It is more than half a mile. +See! he has called that boy in a boat, and he will keep near them. They +have swum farther than that along the shore." + +So the others went away with no fears. + +Hope said afterwards that she never swam with such delight as on that +day. The water seemed to be peculiarly thin and clear, she said, as well +as tranquil, and to retain its usual buoyancy without its density. It +gave a delicious sense of freedom; she seemed to swim in air, and felt +singularly secure. For the first time she felt what she had always +wished to experience,--that swimming was as natural as walking, and +might be indefinitely prolonged. Her strength seemed limitless, she +struck out more and more strongly; she splashed and played with +little Jenny, when the child began to grow weary of the long motion. A +fisherman's boy in a boat rowed slowly along by their side. + +Nine tenths of the distance had been accomplished, when the little girl +grew quite impatient, and Hope bade Harry swim on before her, and land +his charge. Light and buoyant as the child was, her tightened clasp had +begun to tell on him. + +"It tires you, Hal, to bear that weight so long, and you know I have +nothing to carry. You must see that I am not in the least tired, only a +little dazzled by the sun. Here, Charley, give me your hat, and then +row on with Mr. Harry." She put on the boy's torn straw hat, and they +yielded to her wish. People almost always yielded to Hope's wishes when +she expressed them,--it was so very seldom. + +Somehow the remaining distance seemed very great, as Hope saw them glide +away, leaving her in the water alone, her feet unsupported by any firm +element, the bright and pitiless sky arching far above her, and her head +burning with more heat than she had liked to own. She was conscious of +her full strength, and swam more vigorously than ever; but her head was +hot and her ears rang, and she felt chilly vibrations passing up and +down her sides, that were like, she fancied, the innumerable fringing +oars of the little jelly-fishes she had so often watched. Her body felt +almost unnaturally strong, and she took powerful strokes; but it seemed +as if her heart went out into them and left a vacant cavity within. More +and more her life seemed boiling up into her head; queer fancies came +to her, as, for instance, that she was an inverted thermometer with the +mercury all ascending into a bulb at the top. She shook her head and the +fancy cleared away, and then others came. + +She began to grow seriously anxious, but the distance was diminishing; +Harry was almost at the steps with the child, and the boy had rowed his +skiff round the breakwater out of sight; a young fisherman leaned over +the railing with his back to her, watching the lobster-catchers on the +other side. She was almost in; it was only a slight dizziness, yet she +could not see the light-house. Concentrating all her efforts, she shut +her eyes and swam on, her arms still unaccountably vigorous, though the +rest of her body seemed losing itself in languor. The sound in her ear +had grown to a roar, as of many mill-wheels. It seemed a long distance +that she thus swam with her eyes closed. Then she half opened her eyes, +and the breakwater seemed all in motion, with tier above tier of eager +faces looking down on her. In an instant there was a sharp splash close +beside her, and she felt herself grasped and drawn downwards, with a +whirl of something just above her, and then all consciousness went out +as suddenly as when ether brings at last to a patient, after the roaring +and the tumult in his brain, its blessed foretaste of the deliciousness +of death. + +When Hope came again to consciousness, she found herself approaching her +own pier in a sail-boat, with several very wet gentlemen around her, and +little Jenny nestled close to her, crying as profusely as if her pretty +scarlet bathing-dress were being wrung out through her eyes. Hope asked +no questions, and hardly felt the impulse to inquire what had happened. +The truth was, that in the temporary dizziness produced by her prolonged +swim, she had found herself in the track of a steamboat that was passing +the pier, unobserved by her brother. A young man, leaping from the +dock, had caught her in his arms, and had dived with her below the +paddle-wheels, just as they came upon her. It was a daring act, but +nothing else could have saved her. When they came to the surface, they +had been picked up by Aunt Jane's Robinson Crusoe, who had at last +unmoored his pilot-boat and was rounding the light-house for the outer +harbor. + +She and the child were soon landed, and given over to the ladies. Due +attention was paid to her young rescuer, whose dripping garments seemed +for the moment as glorious as a blood-stained flag. He seemed a simple, +frank young fellow of French or German origin, but speaking English +remarkably well; he was not high-bred, by any means, but had apparently +the culture of an average German of the middle class. Harry fancied that +he had seen him before, and at last traced back the impression of his +features to the ball for the French officers. It turned out, on inquiry, +that he had a brother in the service, and on board the corvette; but he +himself was a commercial agent, now in America with a view to business, +though he had made several voyages as mate of a vessel, and would not +object to some such berth as that. He promised to return and receive +the thanks of the family, read with interest the name on Harry's card, +seemed about to ask a question, but forbore, and took his leave amid +the general confusion, without even giving his address. When sought next +day, he was not to be found, and to the children he at once became as +much a creature of romance as the sea-serpent or the Flying Dutchman. + +Even Hope's strong constitution felt the shock of this adventure. She +was confined to her room for a week or two, but begged that there might +be no postponement of the wedding, which, therefore, took place without +her. Her illness gave excuse for a privacy that was welcome to all but +the bridesmaids, and suited Malbone best of all. + + + + +XVI. ON THE STAIRS. + +AUGUST drew toward its close, and guests departed from the neighborhood. + +"What a short little thing summer is," meditated Aunt Jane, "and +butterflies are caterpillars most of the time after all. How quiet it +seems. The wrens whisper in their box above the window, and there has +not been a blast from the peacock for a week. He seems ashamed of the +summer shortness of his tail. He keeps glancing at it over his shoulder +to see if it is not looking better than yesterday, while the staring +eyes of the old tail are in the bushes all about." + +"Poor, dear little thing!" said coaxing Katie. "Is she tired of autumn, +before it is begun?" + +"I am never tired of anything," said Aunt Jane, "except my maid Ruth, +and I should not be tired of her, if it had pleased Heaven to endow her +with sufficient strength of mind to sew on a button. Life is very rich +to me. There is always something new in every season; though to be sure +I cannot think what novelty there is just now, except a choice variety +of spiders. There is a theory that spiders kill flies. But I never +miss a fly, and there does not seem to be any natural scourge divinely +appointed to kill spiders, except Ruth. Even she does it so feebly, that +I see them come back and hang on their webs and make faces at her. I +suppose they are faces; I do not understand their anatomy, but it must +be a very unpleasant one." + +"You are not quite satisfied with life, today, dear," said Kate; "I fear +your book did not end to your satisfaction." + +"It did end, though," said the lady, "and that is something. What is +there in life so difficult as to stop a book? If I wrote one, it would +be as long as ten 'Sir Charles Grandisons,' and then I never should end +it, because I should die. And there would be nobody left to read it, +because each reader would have been dead long before." + +"But the book amused you!" interrupted Kate. "I know it did." + +"It was so absurd that I laughed till I cried; and it makes no +difference whether you cry laughing or cry crying; it is equally bad +when your glasses come off. Never mind. Whom did you see on the Avenue?" + +"O, we saw Philip on horseback. He rides so beautifully; he seems one +with his horse." + +"I am glad of it," interposed his aunt. "The riders are generally so +inferior to them." + +"We saw Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, too. Emilia stopped and asked after you, +and sent you her love, auntie." + +"Love!" cried Aunt Jane. "She always does that. She has sent me love +enough to rear a whole family on,--more than I ever felt for anybody in +all my days. But she does not really love any one." + +"I hope she will love her husband," said Kate, rather seriously. + +"Mark my words, Kate!" said her aunt. "Nothing but unhappiness will ever +come of that marriage. How can two people be happy who have absolutely +nothing in common?" + +"But no two people have just the same tastes," said Kate, "except Harry +and myself. It is not expected. It would be absurd for two people to be +divorced, because the one preferred white bread and the other brown." + +"They would be divorced very soon," said Aunt Jane, "for the one who ate +brown bread would not live long." + +"But it is possible that he might live, auntie, in spite of your +prediction. And perhaps people may be happy, even if you and I do not +see how." + +"Nobody ever thinks I see anything," said Aunt Jane, in some dejection. +"You think I am nothing in the world but a sort of old oyster, making +amusement for people, and having no more to do with real life than +oysters have." + +"No, dearest!" cried Kate. "You have a great deal to do with all our +lives. You are a dear old insidious sapper-and-miner, looking at first +very inoffensive, and then working your way into our affections, and +spoiling us with coaxing. How you behave about children, for instance!" + +"How?" said the other meekly. "As well as I can." + +"But you pretend that you dislike them." + +"But I do dislike them. How can anybody help it? Hear them swearing at +this moment, boys of five, paddling in the water there! Talk about the +murder of the innocents! There are so few innocents to be murdered! If I +only had a gun and could shoot!" + +"You may not like those particular boys," said Kate, "but you like good, +well-behaved children, very much." + +"It takes so many to take care of them! People drive by here, with +carriages so large that two of the largest horses can hardly draw them, +and all full of those little beings. They have a sort of roof, too, and +seem to expect to be out in all weathers." + +"If you had a family of children, perhaps you would find such a +travelling caravan very convenient," said Kate. + +"If I had such a family," said her aunt, "I would have a separate +governess and guardian for each, very moral persons. They should come +when each child was two, and stay till it was twenty. The children +should all live apart, in order not to quarrel, and should meet once +or twice a day and bow to each other. I think that each should learn a +different language, so as not to converse, and then, perhaps, they would +not get each other into mischief." + +"I am sure, auntie," said Kate, "you have missed our small nephews and +nieces ever since their visit ended. How still the house has been!" + +"I do not know," was the answer. "I hear a great many noises about the +house. Somebody comes in late at night. Perhaps it is Philip; but he +comes very softly in, wipes his feet very gently, like a clean thief, +and goes up stairs." + +"O auntie!" said Kate, "you know you have got over all such fancies." + +"They are not fancies," said Aunt Jane. "Things do happen in houses! Did +I not look under the bed for a thief during fifteen years, and find one +at last? Why should I not be allowed to hear something now?" + +"But, dear Aunt Jane," said Kate, "you never told me this before." + +"No," said she. "I was beginning to tell you the other day, but Ruth was +just bringing in my handkerchiefs, and she had used so much bluing, +they looked as if they had been washed in heaven, so that it was too +outrageous, and I forgot everything else." + +"But do you really hear anything?" + +"Yes," said her aunt. "Ruth declares she hears noises in those closets +that I had nailed up, you know; but that is nothing; of course she does. +Rats. What I hear at night is the creaking of stairs, when I know that +nobody ought to be stirring. If you observe, you will hear it too. At +least, I should think you would, only that somehow everything always +seems to stop, when it is necessary to prove that I am foolish." + +The girls had no especial engagement that evening, and so got into a +great excitement on the stairway over Aunt Jane's solicitudes. They +convinced themselves that they heard all sorts of things,--footfalls on +successive steps, the creak of a plank, the brushing of an arm against a +wall, the jar of some suspended object that was stirred in passing. Once +they heard something fall on the floor, and roll from step to step; and +yet they themselves stood on the stairway, and nothing passed. Then +for some time there was silence, but they would have persisted in their +observations, had not Philip come in from Mrs. Meredith's in the midst +of it, so that the whole thing turned into a frolic, and they sat on the +stairs and told ghost stories half the night. + + + + +XVII. DISCOVERY. + +THE next evening Kate and Philip went to a ball. As Hope was passing +through the hall late in the evening, she heard a sudden, sharp cry +somewhere in the upper regions, that sounded, she thought, like a +woman's voice. She stopped to hear, but there was silence. It seemed to +come from the direction of Malbone's room, which was in the third story. +Again came the cry, more gently, ending in a sort of sobbing monologue. +Gliding rapidly up stairs in the dark, she paused at Philip's deserted +room, but the door was locked, and there was profound stillness. She +then descended, and pausing at the great landing, heard other steps +descending also. Retreating to the end of the hall, she hastily lighted +a candle, when the steps ceased. With her accustomed nerve, wishing to +explore the thing thoroughly, she put out the light and kept still. +As she expected, the footsteps presently recommenced, descending +stealthily, but drawing no nearer, and seeming rather like sounds from +an adjoining house, heard through a party-wall. This was impossible, as +the house stood alone. Flushed with excitement, she relighted the hall +candles, and, taking one of them, searched the whole entry and stairway, +going down even to the large, old-fashioned cellar. + +Looking about her in this unfamiliar region, her eye fell on a door +that seemed to open into the wall; she had noticed a similar door on the +story above,--one of the closet doors that had been nailed up by Aunt +Jane's order. As she looked, however, a chill breath blew in from +another direction, extinguishing her lamp. This air came from the outer +door of the cellar, and she had just time to withdraw into a corner +before a man's steps approached, passing close by her. + +Even Hope's strong nerves had begun to yield, and a cold shudder went +through her. Not daring to move, she pressed herself against the wall, +and her heart seemed to stop as the unseen stranger passed. Instead of +his ascending where she had come down, as she had expected, she heard +him grope his way toward the door she had seen in the wall. + +There he seemed to find a stairway, and when his steps were thus turned +from her, she was seized by a sudden impulse and followed him, groping +her way as she could. She remembered that the girls had talked of secret +stairways in that house, though she had no conception whither they could +lead, unless to some of the shut-up closets. + +She steadily followed, treading cautiously upon each creaking step. The +stairway was very narrow, and formed a regular spiral as in a turret. +The darkness and the curving motion confused her brain, and it was +impossible to tell how high in the house she was, except when once she +put her hand upon what was evidently a door, and moreover saw through +its cracks the lamp she had left burning in the upper hall. This glimpse +of reality reassured her. She had begun to discover where she was. The +doors which Aunt Jane had closed gave access, not to mere closets, but +to a spiral stairway, which evidently went from top to bottom of the +house, and was known to some one else beside herself. + +Relieved of that slight shudder at the supernatural which sometimes +affects the healthiest nerves, Hope paused to consider. To alarm the +neighborhood was her first thought. A slight murmuring from above +dispelled it; she must first reconnoitre a few steps farther. As +she ascended a little way, a gleam shone upon her, and down the damp +stairway came a fragrant odor, as from some perfumed chamber. Then a +door was shut and reopened. Eager beyond expression, she followed on. +Another step, and she stood at the door of Malbone's apartment. + +The room was brilliant with light; the doors and windows were heavily +draped. Fruit and flowers and wine were on the table. On the sofa lay +Emilia in a gay ball-dress, sunk in one of her motionless trances, while +Malbone, pale with terror, was deluging her brows with the water he had +just brought from the well below. + +Hope stopped a moment and leaned against the door, as her eyes met +Malbone's. Then she made her way to a chair, and leaning on the back +of it, which she fingered convulsively, looked with bewildered eyes and +compressed lips from the one to the other. Malbone tried to speak, but +failed; tried again, and brought forth only a whisper that broke into +clearer speech as the words went on. "No use to explain," he said. +"Lambert is in New York. Mrs. Meredith is expecting her--to-night after +the ball. What can we do?" + +Hope covered her face as he spoke; she could bear anything better than +to have him say "we," as if no gulf had opened between them. She sank +slowly on her knees behind her chair, keeping it as a sort of screen +between herself and these two people,--the counterfeits, they seemed, +of her lover and her sister. If the roof in falling to crush them had +crushed her also, she could scarcely have seemed more rigid or more +powerless. It passed, and the next moment she was on her feet again, +capable of action. + +"She must be taken," she said very clearly, but in a lower tone than +usual, "to my chamber." Then pointing to the candles, she said, more +huskily, "We must not be seen. Put them out." Every syllable seemed to +exhaust her. But as Philip obeyed her words, he saw her move suddenly +and stand by Emilia's side. + +She put out both arms as if to lift the young girl, and carry her away. + +"You cannot," said Philip, putting her gently aside, while she shrank +from his touch. Then he took Emilia in his arms and bore her to the +door, Hope preceding. + +Motioning him to pause a moment, she turned the lock softly, and looked +out into the dark entry. All was still. She went out, and he followed +with his motionless burden. They walked stealthily, like guilty things, +yet every slight motion seemed to ring in their ears. It was chilly, and +Hope shivered. Through the great open window on the stairway a white fog +peered in at them, and the distant fog-whistle came faintly through; it +seemed as if the very atmosphere were condensing about them, to isolate +the house in which such deeds were done. The clock struck twelve, and it +seemed as if it struck a thousand. + +When they reached Hope's door, she turned and put out her arms for +Emilia, as for a child. Every expression had now gone from Hope's face +but a sort of stony calmness, which put her infinitely farther from +Malbone than had the momentary struggle. As he gave the girlish form +into arms that shook and trembled beneath its weight, he caught a +glimpse in the pier-glass of their two white faces, and then, looking +down, saw the rose-tints yet lingering on Emilia's cheek. She, the +source of all this woe, looked the only representative of innocence +between two guilty things. + +How white and pure and maidenly looked Hope's little room,--such a home +of peace, he thought, till its door suddenly opened to admit all this +passion and despair! There was a great sheaf of cardinal flowers on the +table, and their petals were drooping, as if reluctant to look on him. +Scheffer's Christus Consolator was upon the walls, and the benign figure +seemed to spread wider its arms of mercy, to take in a few sad hearts +more. + +Hope bore Emilia into the light and purity and warmth, while Malbone was +shut out into the darkness and the chill. The only two things to which +he clung on earth, the two women between whom his unsteady heart had +vibrated, and both whose lives had been tortured by its vacillation, +went away from his sight together, the one victim bearing the other +victim in her arms. Never any more while he lived would either of them +be his again; and had Dante known it for his last glimpse of things +immortal when the two lovers floated away from him in their sad embrace, +he would have had no such sense of utter banishment as had Malbone then. + + + + +XVIII. HOPE'S VIGIL. + +HAD Emilia chosen out of life's whole armory of weapons the means of +disarming Hope, she could have found nothing so effectual as nature +had supplied in her unconsciousness. Helplessness conquers. There was a +quality in Emilia which would have always produced something very like +antagonism in Hope, had she not been her sister. Had the ungoverned girl +now been able to utter one word of reproach, had her eyes flashed one +look of defiance, had her hand made one triumphant or angry gesture, +perhaps all Hope's outraged womanhood would have coldly nerved itself +against her. But it was another thing to see those soft eyes closed, +those delicate hands powerless, those pleading lips sealed; to see her +extended in graceful helplessness, while all the concentrated drama of +emotion revolved around her unheeded, as around Cordelia dead. In what +realms was that child's mind seeking comfort; through what thin air of +dreams did that restless heart beat its pinions; in what other sphere +did that untamed nature wander, while shame and sorrow waited for its +awakening in this? + +Hope knelt upon the floor, still too much strained and bewildered for +tears or even prayer, a little way from Emilia. Once having laid down +the unconscious form, it seemed for a moment as if she could no more +touch it than she could lay her hand amid flames. A gap of miles, of +centuries, of solar systems, seemed to separate these two young girls, +alone within the same chamber, with the same stern secret to keep, and +so near that the hem of their garments almost touched each other on the +soft carpet. Hope felt a terrible hardness closing over her heart. +What right had this cruel creature, with her fatal witcheries, to come +between two persons who might have been so wholly happy? What sorrow +would be saved, what shame, perhaps, be averted, should those sweet +beguiling eyes never open, and that perfidious voice never deceive any +more? Why tend the life of one who would leave the whole world happier, +purer, freer, if she were dead? + +In a tumult of thought, Hope went and sat half-unconsciously by the +window. There was nothing to be seen except the steady beacon of the +light-house and a pale-green glimmer, like an earthly star, from an +anchored vessel. The night wind came softly in, soothing her with a +touch like a mother's, in its grateful coolness. The air seemed full +of half-vibrations, sub-noises, that crowded it as completely as do the +insect sounds of midsummer; yet she could only distinguish the ripple +beneath her feet, and the rote on the distant beach, and the busy wash +of waters against every shore and islet of the bay. The mist was thick +around her, but she knew that above it hung the sleepless stars, and the +fancy came over her that perhaps the whole vast interval, from ocean +up to sky, might be densely filled with the disembodied souls of her +departed human kindred, waiting to see how she would endure that path +of grief in which their steps had gone before. "It may be from this +influence," she vaguely mused within herself, "that the ocean derives +its endless song of sorrow. Perhaps we shall know the meaning when we +understand that of the stars, and of our own sad lives." + +She rose again and went to the bedside. It all seemed like a dream, and +she was able to look at Emilia's existence and at her own and at all +else, as if it were a great way off; as we watch the stars and know that +no speculations of ours can reach those who there live or die untouched. +Here beside her lay one who was dead, yet living, in her temporary +trance, and to what would she wake, when it should end? This young +creature had been sent into the world so fresh, so beautiful, so richly +gifted; everything about her physical organization was so delicate and +lovely; she had seemed like heliotrope, like a tube-rose in her +purity and her passion (who was it said, "No heart is pure that is not +passionate"?); and here was the end! Nothing external could have placed +her where she was, no violence, no outrage, no evil of another's doing, +could have reached her real life without her own consent; and now what +kind of existence, what career, what possibility of happiness remained? +Why could not God in his mercy take her, and give her to his holiest +angels for schooling, ere it was yet too late? + +Hope went and sat by the window once more. Her thoughts still clung +heavily around one thought, as the white fog clung round the house. +Where should she see any light? What opening for extrication, unless, +indeed, Emilia should die? There could be no harm in that thought, +for she knew it was not to be, and that the swoon would not last much +longer. Who could devise anything? No one. There was nothing. Almost +always in perplexities there is some thread by resolutely holding to +which one escapes at last. Here there was none. There could probably +be no concealment, certainly no explanation. In a few days John Lambert +would return, and then the storm must break. He was probably a stern, +jealous man, whose very dulness, once aroused, would be more formidable +than if he had possessed keener perceptions. + +Still her thoughts did not dwell on Philip. He was simply a part of that +dull mass of pain that beset her and made her feel, as she had felt +when drowning, that her heart had left her breast and nothing but will +remained. She felt now, as then, the capacity to act with more than her +accustomed resolution, though all that was within her seemed boiling up +into her brain. As for Philip, all seemed a mere negation; there was a +vacuum where his place had been. At most the thought of him came to her +as some strange, vague thrill of added torture, penetrating her soul +and then passing; just as ever and anon there came the sound of the +fog-whistle on Brenton's Reef, miles away, piercing the dull air with +its shrill and desolate wail, then dying into silence. + +What a hopeless cloud lay upon them all forever,--upon Kate, upon Harry, +upon their whole house! Then there was John Lambert; how could they keep +it from him? how could they tell him? Who could predict what he would +say? Would he take the worst and coarsest view of his young wife's mad +action or the mildest? Would he be strong or weak; and what would be +weakness, and what strength, in a position so strange? Would he put +Emilia from him, send her out in the world desolate, her soul stained +but by one wrong passion, yet with her reputation blighted as if there +were no good in her? Could he be asked to shield and protect her, or +what would become of her? She was legally a wife, and could only be +separated from him through convicted shame. + +Then, if separated, she could only marry Philip. Hope nerved herself to +think of that, and it cost less effort than she expected. + +There seemed a numbness on that side, instead of pain. But granting that +he loved Emilia ever so deeply, was he a man to surrender his life and +his ease and his fair name, in a hopeless effort to remove the ban that +the world would place on her. Hope knew he would not; knew that even the +simple-hearted and straightforward Harry would be far more capable of +such heroism than the sentimental Malbone. Here the pang suddenly struck +her; she was not so numb, after all! + +As the leaves beside the window drooped motionless in the dank air, so +her mind drooped into a settled depression. She pitied herself,--that +lowest ebb of melancholy self-consciousness. She went back to Emilia, +and, seating herself, studied every line of the girl's face, the soft +texture of her hair, the veining of her eyelids. They were so lovely, +she felt a sort of physical impulse to kiss them, as if they belonged +to some utter stranger, whom she might be nursing in a hospital. Emilia +looked as innocent as when Hope had tended her in the cradle. What is +there, Hope thought, in sleep, in trance, and in death, that removes all +harsh or disturbing impressions, and leaves only the most delicate and +purest traits? Does the mind wander, and does an angel keep its place? +Or is there really no sin but in thought, and are our sleeping thoughts +incapable of sin? Perhaps even when we dream of doing wrong, the dream +comes in a shape so lovely and misleading that we never recognize it for +evil, and it makes no stain. Are our lives ever so pure as our dreams? + +This thought somehow smote across her conscience, always so strong, and +stirred it into a kind of spasm of introspection. "How selfish have I, +too, been!" she thought. "I saw only what I wished to see, did only what +I preferred. Loving Philip" (for the sudden self-reproach left her free +to think of him), "I could not see that I was separating him from one +whom he might perhaps have truly loved. If he made me blind, may he +not easily have bewildered her, and have been himself bewildered? How I +tried to force myself upon him, too! Ungenerous, unwomanly! What am I, +that I should judge another?" + +She threw herself on her knees at the bedside. + +Still Emilia slept, but now she stirred her head in the slightest +possible way, so that a single tress of silken hair slipped from its +companions, and lay across her face. It was a faint sign that the trance +was waning; the slight pressure disturbed her nerves, and her lips +trembled once or twice, as if to relieve themselves of the soft +annoyance. Hope watched her in a vague, distant way, took note of the +minutest motion, yet as if some vast weight hung upon her own limbs +and made all interference impossible. Still there was a fascination of +sympathy in dwelling on that atom of discomfort, that tiny suffering, +which she alone could remove. The very vastness of this tragedy that +hung about the house made it an inexpressible relief to her to turn and +concentrate her thoughts for a moment on this slight distress, so easily +ended. + +Strange, by what slender threads our lives are knitted to each other! +Here was one who had taken Hope's whole existence in her hands, crushed +it, and thrown it away. Hope had soberly said to herself, just before, +that death would be better than life for her young sister. Yet now it +moved her beyond endurance to see that fair form troubled, even while +unconscious, by a feather's weight of pain; and all the lifelong habit +of tenderness resumed in a moment its sway. + +She approached her fingers to the offending tress, very slowly, half +withholding them at the very last, as if the touch would burn her. She +was almost surprised that it did not. She looked to see if it did not +hurt Emilia. But it now seemed as if the slumbering girl enjoyed the +caressing contact of the smooth fingers, and turned her head, almost +imperceptibly, to meet them. This was more than Hope could bear. It was +as if that slight motion were a puncture to relieve her overburdened +heart; a thousand thoughts swept over her,--of their father, of her +sister's childhood, of her years of absent expectation; she thought how +young the girl was, how fascinating, how passionate, how tempted; all +this swept across her in a great wave of nervous reaction, and when +Emilia returned to consciousness, she was lying in her sister's arms, +her face bathed in Hope's tears. + + + + +XIX. DE PROFUNDIS. + +THIS was the history of Emilia's concealed visits to Malbone. + +One week after her marriage, in a crisis of agony, Emilia took up her +pen, dipped it in fire, and wrote thus to him:-- + +"Philip Malbone, why did nobody ever tell me what marriage is where +there is no love? This man who calls himself my husband is no worse, +I suppose, than other men. It is only for being what is called by that +name that I abhor him. Good God! what am I to do? It was not for money +that I married him,--that you know very well; I cared no more for his +money than for himself. I thought it was the only way to save Hope. She +has been very good to me, and perhaps I should love her, if I could love +anybody. Now I have done what will only make more misery, for I cannot +bear it. Philip, I am alone in this wide world, except for you. Tell me +what to do. I will haunt you till you die, unless you tell me. Answer +this, or I will write again." + +Terrified by this letter, absolutely powerless to guide the life with +which he had so desperately entangled himself, Philip let one day pass +without answering, and that evening he found Emilia at his door, she +having glided unnoticed up the main stairway. She was so excited, it was +equally dangerous to send her away or to admit her, and he drew her in, +darkening the windows and locking the door. On the whole, it was not so +bad as he expected; at least, there was less violence and more despair. +She covered her face with her hands, and writhed in anguish, when she +said that she had utterly degraded herself by this loveless marriage. +She scarcely mentioned her husband. She made no complaint of him, and +even spoke of him as generous. It seemed as if this made it worse, and +as if she would be happier if she could expend herself in hating him. +She spoke of him rather as a mere witness to some shame for which she +herself was responsible; bearing him no malice, but tortured by the +thought that he should exist. + +Then she turned on Malbone. "Philip, why did you ever interfere with my +life? I should have been very happy with Antoine if you had let me marry +him, for I never should have known what it was to love you. Oh! I wish +he were here now, even he,--any one who loved me truly, and whom I could +love only a little. I would go away with such a person anywhere, and +never trouble you and Hope any more. What shall I do? Philip, you might +tell me what to do. Once you told me always to come to you." + +"What can you do?" he asked gloomily, in return. + +"I cannot imagine," she said, with a desolate look, more pitiable than +passion, on her young face. "I wish to save Hope, and to save my--to +save Mr. Lambert. Philip, you do not love me. I do not call it love. +There is no passion in your veins; it is only a sort of sympathetic +selfishness. Hope is infinitely better than you are, and I believe she +is more capable of loving. I began by hating her, but if she loves you +as I think she does, she has treated me more generously than ever one +woman treated another. For she could not look at me and not know that I +loved you. I did love you. O Philip, tell me what to do!" + +Such beauty in anguish, the thrill of the possession of such love, the +possibility of soothing by tenderness the wild mood which he could not +meet by counsel,--it would have taken a stronger or less sympathetic +nature than Malbone's to endure all this. It swept him away; this +revival of passion was irresistible. When her pent-up feeling was +once uttered, she turned to his love as a fancied salvation. It was a +terrible remedy. She had never looked more beautiful, and yet she seemed +to have grown old at once; her very caresses appeared to burn. She +lingered and lingered, and still he kept her there; and when it was no +longer possible for her to go without disturbing the house, he led her +to a secret spiral stairway, which went from attic to cellar of that +stately old mansion, and which opened by one or more doors on each +landing, as his keen eye had found out. Descending this, he went forth +with her into the dark and silent night. The mist hung around the house; +the wet leaves fluttered and fell upon their cheeks; the water lapped +desolately against the pier. Philip found a carriage and sent her back +to Mrs. Meredith's, where she was staying during the brief absence of +John Lambert. + +These concealed meetings, once begun, became an absorbing excitement. +She came several times, staying half an hour, an hour, two hours. They +were together long enough for suffering, never long enough for soothing. +It was a poor substitute for happiness. Each time she came, Malbone +wished that she might never go or never return. His warier nature was +feverish with solicitude and with self-reproach; he liked the excitement +of slight risks, but this was far too intense, the vibrations too +extreme. She, on the other hand, rode triumphant over waves of passion +which cowed him. He dared not exclude her; he dared not continue to +admit her; he dared not free himself; he could not be happy. The privacy +of the concealed stairway saved them from outward dangers, but not from +inward fears. Their interviews were first blissful, then anxious, then +sad, then stormy. It was at the end of such a storm that Emilia had +passed into one of those deathly calms which belonged to her physical +temperament; and it was under these circumstances that Hope had followed +Philip to the door. + + + + +XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE. + +THE thing that saves us from insanity during great grief is that +there is usually something to do, and the mind composes itself to the +mechanical task of adjusting the details. Hope dared not look forward +an inch into the future; that way madness lay. Fortunately, it was plain +what must come first,--to keep the whole thing within their own walls, +and therefore to make some explanation to Mrs. Meredith, whose servants +had doubtless been kept up all night awaiting Emilia. Profoundly +perplexed what to say or not to say to her, Hope longed with her whole +soul for an adviser. Harry and Kate were both away, and besides, she +shrank from darkening their young lives as hers had been darkened. +She resolved to seek counsel in the one person who most thoroughly +distrusted Emilia,--Aunt Jane. + +This lady was in a particularly happy mood that day. Emilia, who did +all kinds of fine needle-work exquisitely, had just embroidered for Aunt +Jane some pillow-cases. The original suggestion came from Hope, but it +never cost Emilia anything to keep a secret, and she had presented the +gift very sweetly, as if it were a thought of her own. Aunt Jane, who +with all her penetration as to facts was often very guileless as to +motives, was thoroughly touched by the humility and the embroidery. + +"All last night," she said, "I kept waking up, and thinking about +Christian charity and my pillow-cases." + +It was, therefore, a very favorable day for Hope's consultation, though +it was nearly noon before her aunt was visible, perhaps because it took +so long to make up her bed with the new adornments. + +Hope said frankly to Aunt Jane that there were some circumstances about +which she should rather not be questioned, but that Emilia had come +there the previous night from the ball, had been seized with one of +her peculiar attacks, and had stayed all night. Aunt Jane kept her eyes +steadily fixed on Hope's sad face, and, when the tale was ended, drew +her down and kissed her lips. + +"Now tell me, dear," she said; "what comes first?" + +"The first thing is," said Hope, "to have Emilia's absence explained to +Mrs. Meredith in some such way that she will think no more of it, and +not talk about it." + +"Certainly," said Aunt Jane. "There is but one way to do that. I will +call on her myself." + +"You, auntie?" said Hope. + +"Yes, I," said her aunt. "I have owed her a call for five years. It is +the only thing that will excite her so much as to put all else out of +her head." + +"O auntie!" said Hope, greatly relieved, "if you only would! But ought +you really to go out? It is almost raining." + +"I shall go," said Aunt Jane, decisively, "if it rains little boys!" + +"But will not Mrs. Meredith wonder--?" began Hope. + +"That is one advantage," interrupted her aunt, "of being an absurd old +woman. Nobody ever wonders at anything I do, or else it is that they +never stop wondering." + +She sent Ruth erelong to order the horses. Hope collected her various +wrappers, and Ruth, returning, got her mistress into a state of +preparation. + +"If I might say one thing more," Hope whispered. + +"Certainly," said her aunt. "Ruth, go to my chamber, and get me a pin." + +"What kind of a pin, ma'am?" asked that meek handmaiden, from the +doorway. + +"What a question!" said her indignant mistress. "Any kind. The common +pin of North America. Now, Hope?" as the door closed. + +"I think it better, auntie," said Hope, "that Philip should not stay +here longer at present. You can truly say that the house is full, and--" + +"I have just had a note from him," said Aunt Jane severely. "He has gone +to lodge at the hotel. What next?" + +"Aunt Jane," said Hope, looking her full in the face, "I have not the +slightest idea what to do next." + +("The next thing for me," thought her aunt, "is to have a little plain +speech with that misguided child upstairs.") + +"I can see no way out," pursued Hope. + +"Darling!" said Aunt Jane, with a voice full of womanly sweetness, +"there is always a way out, or else the world would have stopped long +ago. Perhaps it would have been better if it had stopped, but you see it +has not. All we can do is, to live on and try our best." + +She bade Hope leave Emilia to her, and furthermore stipulated that Hope +should go to her pupils as usual, that afternoon, as it was their last +lesson. The young girl shrank from the effort, but the elder lady was +inflexible. She had her own purpose in it. Hope once out of the way, +Aunt Jane could deal with Emilia. + +No human being, when met face to face with Aunt Jane, had ever failed +to yield up to her the whole truth she sought. Emilia was on that day no +exception. She was prostrate, languid, humble, denied nothing, was ready +to concede every point but one. Never, while she lived, would she dwell +beneath John Lambert's roof again. She had left it impulsively, she +admitted, scarce knowing what she did. But she would never return there +to live. She would go once more and see that all was in order for Mr. +Lambert, both in the house and on board the yacht, where they were to +have taken up their abode for a time. There were new servants in the +house, a new captain on the yacht; she would trust Mr. Lambert's comfort +to none of them; she would do her full duty. Duty! the more utterly she +felt herself to be gliding away from him forever, the more pains she was +ready to lavish in doing these nothings well. About every insignificant +article he owned she seemed to feel the most scrupulous and wife-like +responsibility; while she yet knew that all she had was to him nothing, +compared with the possession of herself; and it was the thought of this +last ownership that drove her to despair. + +Sweet and plaintive as the child's face was, it had a glimmer of +wildness and a hunted look, that baffled Aunt Jane a little, and +compelled her to temporize. She consented that Emilia should go to +her own house, on condition that she would not see Philip,--which was +readily and even eagerly promised,--and that Hope should spend the night +with Emilia, which proposal was ardently accepted. + +It occurred to Aunt Jane that nothing better could happen than for John +Lambert, on returning, to find his wife at home; and to secure this +result, if possible, she telegraphed to him to come at once. + +Meantime Hope gave her inevitable music-lesson, so absorbed in her own +thoughts that it was all as mechanical as the metronome. As she came +out upon the Avenue for the walk home, she saw a group of people from +a gardener's house, who had collected beside a muddy crossing, where a +team of cart-horses had refused to stir. Presently they sprang forward +with a great jerk, and a little Irish child was thrown beneath the +wheel. Hope sprang forward to grasp the child, and the wheel struck +her also; but she escaped with a dress torn and smeared, while the +cart passed over the little girl's arm, breaking it in two places. She +screamed and then grew faint, as Hope lifted her. The mother received +the burden with a wail of anguish; the other Irishwomen pressed around +her with the dense and suffocating sympathy of their nation. Hope bade +one and another run for a physician, but nobody stirred. There was no +surgical aid within a mile or more. Hope looked round in despair, then +glanced at her own disordered garments. + +"As sure as you live!" shouted a well-known voice from a carriage which +had stopped behind them. "If that isn't Hope what's-her-name, wish I may +never! Here's a lark! Let me come there!" And the speaker pushed through +the crowd. + +"Miss Ingleside," said Hope, decisively, "this child's arm is broken. +There is nobody to go for a physician. Except for the condition I am +in, I would ask you to take me there at once in your carriage; but as it +is--" + +"As it is, I must ask you, hey?" said Blanche, finishing the sentence. +"Of course. No mistake. Sans dire. Jones, junior, this lady will join +us. Don't look so scared, man. Are you anxious about your cushions or +your reputation?" + +The youth simpered and disclaimed. + +"Jump in, then, Miss Maxwell. Never mind the expense. It's only the +family carriage;--surname and arms of Jones. Lucky there are no parents +to the fore. Put my shawl over you, so." + +"O Blanche!" said Hope, "what injustice--" + +"I've done myself?" said the volatile damsel. "Not a doubt of it. That's +my style, you know. But I have some sense; I know who's who. Now, Jones, +junior, make your man handle the ribbons. I've always had a grudge +against that ordinance about fast driving, and now's our chance." + +And the sacred "ordinance," with all other proprieties, was left in +ruins that day. They tore along the Avenue with unexplained and most +inexplicable speed, Hope being concealed by riding backward, and by a +large shawl, and Blanche and her admirer receiving the full indignation +of every chaste and venerable eye. Those who had tolerated all this +girl's previous improprieties were obliged to admit that the line must +be drawn somewhere. She at once lost several good invitations and a +matrimonial offer, since Jones, junior, was swept away by his parents to +be wedded without delay to a consumptive heiress who had long pined +for his whiskers; and Count Posen, in his Souvenirs, was severer on +Blanche's one good deed than on the worst of her follies. + +A few years after, when Blanche, then the fearless wife of a +regular-army officer, was helping Hope in the hospitals at Norfolk, she +would stop to shout with delight over the reminiscence of that stately +Jones equipage in mad career, amid the barking of dogs and the groaning +of dowagers. "After all, Hope," she would say, "the fastest thing I ever +did was under your orders." + + + + +XXI. A STORM. + +THE members of the household were all at the window about noon, next +day, watching the rise of a storm. A murky wing of cloud, shaped like +a hawk's, hung over the low western hills across the bay. Then the hawk +became an eagle, and the eagle a gigantic phantom, that hovered over +half the visible sky. Beneath it, a little scud of vapor, moved by some +cross-current of air, raced rapidly against the wind, just above the +horizon, like smoke from a battle-field. + +As the cloud ascended, the water grew rapidly blacker, and in half an +hour broke into jets of white foam, all over its surface, with an +angry look. Meantime a white film of fog spread down the bay from the +northward. The wind hauled from southwest to northwest, so suddenly +and strongly that all the anchored boats seemed to have swung round +instantaneously, without visible process. The instant the wind shifted, +the rain broke forth, filling the air in a moment with its volume, +and cutting so sharply that it seemed like hail, though no hailstones +reached the ground. At the same time there rose upon the water a dense +white film, which seemed to grow together from a hundred different +directions, and was made partly of rain, and partly of the blown edges +of the spray. There was but a glimpse of this; for in a few moments it +was impossible to see two rods; but when the first gust was over, +the water showed itself again, the jets of spray all beaten down, and +regular waves, of dull lead-color, breaking higher on the shore. All the +depth of blackness had left the sky, and there remained only an obscure +and ominous gray, through which the lightning flashed white, not red. +Boats came driving in from the mouth of the bay with a rag of sail up; +the men got them moored with difficulty, and when they sculled ashore +in the skiffs, a dozen comrades stood ready to grasp and haul them in. +Others launched skiffs in sheltered places, and pulled out bareheaded +to bail out their fishing-boats and keep them from swamping at their +moorings. + +The shore was thronged with men in oilskin clothes and by women with +shawls over their heads. Aunt Jane, who always felt responsible for +whatever went on in the elements, sat in-doors with one lid closed, +wincing at every flash, and watching the universe with the air of a +coachman guiding six wild horses. + +Just after the storm had passed its height, two veritable wild +horses were reined up at the door, and Philip burst in, his usual +self-composure gone. + +"Emilia is out sailing!" he exclaimed,--"alone with Lambert's boatman, +in this gale. They say she was bound for Narragansett." + +"Impossible!" cried Hope, turning pale. "I left her not three hours +ago." Then she remembered that Emilia had spoken of going on board the +yacht, to superintend some arrangements, but had said no more about it, +when she opposed it. + +"Harry!" said Aunt Jane, quickly, from her chair by the window, "see +that fisherman. He has just come ashore and is telling something. Ask +him." + +The fisherman had indeed seen Lambert's boat, which was well known. +Something seemed to be the matter with the sail, but before the storm +struck her, it had been hauled down. They must have taken in water +enough, as it was. He had himself been obliged to bail out three times, +running in from the reef. + +"Was there any landing which they could reach?" Harry asked. + +There was none,--but the light-ship lay right in their track, and if +they had good luck, they might get aboard of her. + +"The boatman?" said Philip, anxiously,--"Mr. Lambert's boatman; is he a +good sailor?" + +"Don't know," was the reply. "Stranger here. Dutchman, Frenchman, +Portegee, or some kind of a foreigner." + +"Seems to understand himself in a boat," said another. + +"Mr. Malbone knows him," said a third. "The same that dove with the +young woman under the steamboat paddles." + +"Good grit," said the first. + +"That's so," was the answer. "But grit don't teach a man the channel." + +All agreed to this axiom; but as there was so strong a probability that +the voyagers had reached the light-ship, there seemed less cause for +fear. + +The next question was, whether it was possible to follow them. All +agreed that it would be foolish for any boat to attempt it, till the +wind had blown itself out, which might be within half an hour. After +that, some predicted a calm, some a fog, some a renewal of the storm; +there was the usual variety of opinions. At any rate, there might +perhaps be an interval during which they could go out, if the gentlemen +did not mind a wet jacket. + +Within the half-hour came indeed an interval of calm, and a light shone +behind the clouds from the west. It faded soon into a gray fog, with +puffs of wind from the southwest again. When the young men went out with +the boatmen, the water had grown more quiet, save where angry little +gusts ruffled it. But these gusts made it necessary to carry a double +reef, and they made but little progress against wind and tide. + +A dark-gray fog, broken by frequent wind-flaws, makes the ugliest of all +days on the water. A still, pale fog is soothing; it lulls nature to +a kind of repose. But a windy fog with occasional sunbeams and sudden +films of metallic blue breaking the leaden water,--this carries an +impression of something weird and treacherous in the universe, and +suggests caution. + +As the boat floated on, every sight and sound appeared strange. The +music from the fort came sudden and startling through the vaporous +eddies. A tall white schooner rose instantaneously near them, like +a light-house. They could see the steam of the factory floating low, +seeking some outlet between cloud and water. As they drifted past a +wharf, the great black piles of coal hung high and gloomy; then a stray +sunbeam brought out their peacock colors; then came the fog again, +driving hurriedly by, as if impatient to go somewhere and enraged at the +obstacle. It seemed to have a vast inorganic life of its own, a volition +and a whim. It drew itself across the horizon like a curtain; then +advanced in trampling armies up the bay; then marched in masses +northward; then suddenly grew thin, and showed great spaces of sunlight; +then drifted across the low islands, like long tufts of wool; then +rolled itself away toward the horizon; then closed in again, pitiless +and gray. + +Suddenly something vast towered amid the mist above them. It was the +French war-ship returned to her anchorage once more, and seeming in that +dim atmosphere to be something spectral and strange that had taken form +out of the elements. The muzzles of great guns rose tier above tier, +along her side; great boats hung one above another, on successive pairs +of davits, at her stern. So high was her hull, that the topmost boat and +the topmost gun appeared to be suspended in middle air; and yet this +was but the beginning of her altitude. Above these were the heavy masts, +seen dimly through the mist; between these were spread eight dark lines +of sailors' clothes, which, with the massive yards above, looked +like part of some ponderous framework built to reach the sky. This +prolongation of the whole dark mass toward the heavens had a portentous +look to those who gazed from below; and when the denser fog sometimes +furled itself away from the topgallant masts, hitherto invisible, and +showed them rising loftier yet, and the tricolor at the mizzen-mast-head +looking down as if from the zenith, then they all seemed to appertain +to something of more than human workmanship; a hundred wild tales of +phantom vessels came up to the imagination, and it was as if that one +gigantic structure were expanding to fill all space from sky to sea. + +They were swept past it; the fog closed in; it was necessary to land +near the Fort, and proceed on foot. They walked across the rough +peninsula, while the mist began to disperse again, and they were buoyant +with expectation. As they toiled onward, the fog suddenly met them at +the turn of a lane where it had awaited them, like an enemy. As they +passed into those gray and impalpable arms, the whole world changed +again. + +They walked toward the sound of the sea. As they approached it, the dull +hue that lay upon it resembled that of the leaden sky. The two elements +could hardly be distinguished except as the white outlines of the +successive breakers were lifted through the fog. The lines of surf +appeared constantly to multiply upon the beach, and yet, on counting +them, there were never any more. Sometimes, in the distance, masses +of foam rose up like a wall where the horizon ought to be; and, as the +coming waves took form out of the unseen, it seemed as if no phantom +were too vast or shapeless to come rolling in upon their dusky +shoulders. + +Presently a frail gleam of something like the ghost of dead sunshine +made them look toward the west. Above the dim roofs of Castle Hill +mansion-house, the sinking sun showed luridly through two rifts of +cloud, and then the swift motion of the nearer vapor veiled both sun and +cloud, and banished them into almost equal remoteness. + +Leaving the beach on their right, and passing the high rocks of the +Pirate's Cave, they presently descended to the water's edge once more. +The cliffs rose to a distorted height in the dimness; sprays of withered +grass nodded along the edge, like Ossian's spectres. Light seemed to be +vanishing from the universe, leaving them alone with the sea. And when +a solitary loon uttered his wild cry, and rising, sped away into +the distance, it was as if life were following light into an equal +annihilation. That sense of vague terror, with which the ocean sometimes +controls the fancy, began to lay its grasp on them. They remembered that +Emilia, in speaking once of her intense shrinking from death, had said +that the sea was the only thing from which she would not fear to meet +it. + +Fog exaggerates both for eye and ear; it is always a sounding-board for +the billows; and in this case, as often happens, the roar did not appear +to proceed from the waves themselves, but from some source in the unseen +horizon, as if the spectators were shut within a beleaguered fortress, +and this thundering noise came from an impetuous enemy outside. Ever +and anon there was a distinct crash of heavier sound, as if some special +barricade had at length been beaten in, and the garrison must look to +their inner defences. + +The tide was unusually high, and scarcely receded with the ebb, though +the surf increased; the waves came in with constant rush and wail, and +with an ominous rattle of pebbles on the little beaches, beneath the +powerful suction of the undertow; and there were more and more of those +muffled throbs along the shore which tell of coming danger as plainly as +minute-guns. With these came mingled that yet more inexplicable humming +which one hears at intervals in such times, like strains of music caught +and tangled in the currents of stormy air,--strains which were perhaps +the filmy thread on which tales of sirens and mermaids were first +strung, and in which, at this time, they would fain recognize the voice +of Emilia. + + + + +XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. + +AS the night closed in, the wind rose steadily, still blowing from the +southwest. In Brenton's kitchen they found a group round a great fire of +driftwood; some of these were fishermen who had with difficulty made a +landing on the beach, and who confirmed the accounts already given. +The boat had been seen sailing for the Narragansett shore, and when the +squall came, the boatman had lowered and reefed the sail, and stood for +the light-ship. They must be on board of her, if anywhere. + +"There are safe there?" asked Philip, eagerly. + +"Only place where they would be safe, then," said the spokesman. + +"Unless the light-ship parts," said an old fellow. + +"Parts!" said the other. "Sixty fathom of two-inch chain, and old Joe +talks about parting." + +"Foolish, of course," said Philip; "but it's a dangerous shore." + +"That's so," was the answer. "Never saw so many lines of reef show +outside, neither." + +"There's an old saying on this shore," said Joe:-- + + + + "When Price's Neck goes to Brenton's Reef, + Body and soul will come to grief. + But when Brenton's Reef comes to Price's Neck, + Soul and body are both a wreck." + + + +"What does it mean?" asked Harry. + +"It only means," said somebody, "that when you see it white all the way +out from the Neck to the Reef, you can't take the inside passage." + +"But what does the last half mean?" persisted Harry. + +"Don't know as I know," said the veteran, and relapsed into silence, in +which all joined him, while the wind howled and whistled outside, and +the barred windows shook. + +Weary and restless with vain waiting, they looked from the doorway at +the weather. The door went back with a slam, and the gust swooped down +on them with that special blast that always seems to linger just outside +on such nights, ready for the first head that shows itself. They closed +the door upon the flickering fire and the uncouth shadows within, and +went forth into the night. At first the solid blackness seemed to lay a +weight on their foreheads. There was absolutely nothing to be seen +but the two lights of the light-ship, glaring from the dark sea like +a wolf's eyes from a cavern. They looked nearer and brighter than in +ordinary nights, and appeared to the excited senses of the young men to +dance strangely on the waves, and to be always opposite to them, as they +moved along the shore with the wind almost at their backs. + +"What did that old fellow mean?" said Malbone in Harry's ear, as they +came to a protected place and could hear each other, "by talking of +Brenton's Reef coming to Price's Neck." + +"Some sailor's doggerel," said Harry, indifferently. "Here is Price's +Neck before us, and yonder is Brenton's Reef." + +"Where?" said Philip, looking round bewildered. + +The lights had gone, as if the wolf, weary of watching, had suddenly +closed his eyes, and slumbered in his cave. + +Harry trembled and shivered. In Heaven's name, what could this +disappearance mean? + +Suddenly a sheet of lightning came, so white and intense, it sent its +light all the way out to the horizon and exhibited far-off vessels, that +reeled and tossed and looked as if wandering without a guide. But this +was not so startling as what it showed in the foreground. + +There drifted heavily upon the waves, within full view from the shore, +moving parallel to it, yet gradually approaching, an uncouth shape that +seemed a vessel and yet not a vessel; two stunted masts projected above, +and below there could be read, in dark letters that apparently swayed +and trembled in the wan lightning, as the thing moved on, + + BRENTON'S REEF. + +Philip, leaning against a rock, gazed into the darkness where the +apparition had been; even Harry felt a thrill of half-superstitious +wonder, and listened half mechanically to a rough sailor's voice at his +ear:-- + +"God! old Joe was right. There's one wreck that is bound to make many. +The light-ship has parted." + +"Drifting ashore," said Harry, his accustomed clearness of head coming +back at a flash. "Where will she strike?" + +"Price's Neck," said the sailor. + +Harry turned to Philip and spoke to him, shouting in his ear the +explanation. Malbone's lips moved mechanically, but he said nothing. +Passively, he let Harry take him by the arm, and lead him on. + +Following the sailor, they rounded a projecting point, and found +themselves a little sheltered from the wind. Not knowing the region, +they stumbled about among the rocks, and scarcely knew when they neared +the surf, except when a wave came swashing round their very feet. +Pausing at the end of a cove, they stood beside their conductor, and +their eyes, now grown accustomed, could make out vaguely the outlines of +the waves. + +The throat of the cove was so shoal and narrow, and the mass of the +waves so great, that they reared their heads enormously, just outside, +and spending their strength there, left a lower level within the cove. +Yet sometimes a series of great billows would come straight on, heading +directly for the entrance, and then the surface of the water within was +seen to swell suddenly upward as if by a terrible inward magic of its +own; it rose and rose, as if it would ingulf everything; then as rapidly +sank, and again presented a mere quiet vestibule before the excluded +waves. + +They saw in glimpses, as the lightning flashed, the shingly beach, +covered with a mass of creamy foam, all tremulous and fluctuating in +the wind; and this foam was constantly torn away by the gale in great +shreds, that whirled by them as if the very fragments of the ocean were +fleeing from it in terror, to take refuge in the less frightful element +of air. + +Still the wild waves reared their heads, like savage, crested animals, +now white, now black, looking in from the entrance of the cove. And now +there silently drifted upon them something higher, vaster, darker than +themselves,--the doomed vessel. It was strange how slowly and steadily +she swept in,--for her broken chain-cable dragged, as it afterwards +proved, and kept her stern-on to the shore,--and they could sometimes +hear amid the tumult a groan that seemed to come from the very heart of +the earth, as she painfully drew her keel over hidden reefs. Over five +of these (as was afterwards found) she had already drifted, and she rose +and fell more than once on the high waves at the very mouth of the cove, +like a wild bird hovering ere it pounces. + +Then there came one of those great confluences of waves described +already, which, lifting her bodily upward, higher and higher and higher, +suddenly rushed with her into the basin, filling it like an opened +dry-dock, crashing and roaring round the vessel and upon the rocks, then +sweeping out again and leaving her lodged, still stately and steady, at +the centre of the cove. + +They could hear from the crew a mingled sound, that came as a shout +of excitement from some and a shriek of despair from others. The vivid +lightning revealed for a moment those on shipboard to those on +shore; and blinding as it was, it lasted long enough to show figures +gesticulating and pointing. The old sailor, Mitchell, tried to build a +fire among the rocks nearest the vessel, but it was impossible, because +of the wind. This was a disappointment, for the light would have taken +away half the danger, and more than half the terror. Though the cove was +more quiet than the ocean, yet it was fearful enough, even there. The +vessel might hold together till morning, but who could tell? It was +almost certain that those on board would try to land, and there was +nothing to do but to await the effort. The men from the farmhouse had +meanwhile come down with ropes. + +It was simply impossible to judge with any accuracy of the distance of +the ship. One of these new-comers, who declared that she was lodged very +near, went to a point of rocks, and shouted to those on board to heave +him a rope. The tempest suppressed his voice, as it had put out the +fire. But perhaps the lightning had showed him to the dark figures on +the stern; for when the next flash came, they saw a rope flung, which +fell short. The real distance was more than a hundred yards. + +Then there was a long interval of darkness. The moment the next flash +came they saw a figure let down by a rope from the stern of the vessel, +while the hungry waves reared like wolves to seize it. Everybody crowded +down to the nearest rocks, looking this way and that for a head to +appear. They pressed eagerly in every direction where a bit of plank or +a barrel-head floated; they fancied faint cries here and there, and went +aimlessly to and fro. A new effort, after half a dozen failures, sent +a blaze mounting up fitfully among the rocks, startling all with the +sudden change its blessed splendor made. Then a shrill shout from one of +the watchers summoned all to a cleft in the cove, half shaded from the +firelight, where there came rolling in amidst the surf, more dead than +alive, the body of a man. He was the young foreigner, John Lambert's +boatman. He bore still around him the rope that was to save the rest. + +How pale and eager their faces looked as they bent above him! But the +eagerness was all gone from his, and only the pallor left. While +the fishermen got the tackle rigged, such as it was, to complete the +communication with the vessel, the young men worked upon the boatman, +and soon had him restored to consciousness. He was able to explain that +the ship had been severely strained, and that all on board believed she +would go to pieces before morning. No one would risk being the first +to take the water, and he had at last volunteered, as being the +best swimmer, on condition that Emilia should be next sent, when the +communication was established. + +Two ropes were then hauled on board the vessel, a larger and a smaller. +By the flickering firelight and the rarer flashes of lightning (the rain +now falling in torrents) they saw a hammock slung to the larger rope; a +woman's form was swathed in it; and the smaller rope being made fast to +this, they found by pulling that she could be drawn towards the shore. +Those on board steadied the hammock as it was lowered from the ship, but +the waves seemed maddened by this effort to escape their might, and they +leaped up at her again and again. The rope dropped beneath her weight, +and all that could be done from shore was to haul her in as fast as +possible, to abbreviate the period of buffeting and suffocation. As she +neared the rocks she could be kept more safe from the water; faster and +faster she was drawn in; sometimes there came some hitch and stoppage, +but by steady patience it was overcome. + +She was so near the rocks that hands were already stretched to grasp +her, when there came one of the great surging waves that sometimes +filled the basin. It gave a terrible lurch to the stranded vessel +hitherto so erect; the larger rope snapped instantly; the guiding rope +was twitched from the hands that held it; and the canvas that held +Emilia was caught and swept away like a shred of foam, and lost amid +the whiteness of the seething froth below. Fifteen minutes after, the +hammock came ashore empty, the lashings having parted. + +The cold daybreak was just opening, though the wind still blew keenly, +when they found the body of Emilia. It was swathed in a roll of +sea-weed, lying in the edge of the surf, on a broad, flat rock near +where the young boatman had come ashore. The face was not disfigured; +the clothing was only torn a little, and tangled closely round her; but +the life was gone. + +It was Philip who first saw her; and he stood beside her for a moment +motionless, stunned into an aspect of tranquility. This, then, was +the end. All his ready sympathy, his wooing tenderness, his winning +compliances, his self-indulgent softness, his perilous amiability, his +reluctance to give pain or to see sorrow,--all had ended in this. For +once, he must force even his accommodating and evasive nature to meet +the plain, blank truth. Now all his characteristics appeared changed by +the encounter; it was Harry who was ready, thoughtful, attentive,--while +Philip, who usually had all these traits, was paralyzed among his +dreams. Could he have fancied such a scene beforehand, he would have +vowed that no hand but his should touch the breathless form of Emilia. +As it was, he instinctively made way for the quick gathering of the +others, as if almost any one else had a better right to be there. + +The storm had blown itself out by sunrise; the wind had shifted, beating +down the waves; it seemed as if everything in nature were exhausted. +The very tide had ebbed away. The light-ship rested between the rocks, +helpless, still at the mercy of the returning waves, and yet still +upright and with that stately look of unconscious pleading which all +shipwrecked vessels wear, it is wonderfully like the look I have seen +in the face of some dead soldier, on whom war had done its worst. Every +line of a ship is so built for motion, every part, while afloat, seems +so full of life and so answering to the human life it bears, that this +paralysis of shipwreck touches the imagination as if the motionless +thing had once been animated by a soul. + +And not far from the vessel, in a chamber of the seaside farm-house, +lay the tenderer and fairer wreck of Emilia. Her storms and her passions +were ended. The censure of the world, the anguish of friends, the +clinging arms of love, were nothing now to her. Again the soft shelter +of unconsciousness had clasped her in; but this time the trance was +longer and the faintness was unto death. + +From the moment of her drifting ashore, it was the young boatman who +had assumed the right to care for her and to direct everything. Philip +seemed stunned; Harry was his usual clear-headed and efficient self; but +to his honest eyes much revealed itself in a little while; and when Hope +arrived in the early morning, he said to her, "This boatman, who once +saved your life, is Emilia's Swiss lover, Antoine Marval." + +"More than lover," said the young Swiss, overhearing. "She was my wife +before God, when you took her from me. In my country, a betrothal is +as sacred as a marriage. Then came that man, he filled her heart with +illusions, and took her away in my absence. When my brother was here +in the corvette, he found her for me. Then I came for her; I saved her +sister; then I saw the name on the card and would not give my own. I +became her servant. She saw me in the yacht, only once; she knew me; she +was afraid. Then she said, 'Perhaps I still love you,--a little; I do +not know; I am in despair; take me from this home I hate.' We sailed +that day in the small boat for Narragansett,--I know not where. She +hardly looked up or spoke; but for me, I cared for nothing since she +was with me. When the storm came, she was frightened, and said, 'It is a +retribution.' I said, 'You shall never go back.' She never did. Here she +is. You cannot take her from me." + +Once on board the light-ship, she had been assigned the captain's +state-room, while Antoine watched at the door. She seemed to shrink from +him whenever he went to speak to her, he owned, but she answered kindly +and gently, begging to be left alone. When at last the vessel parted her +moorings, he persuaded Emilia to come on deck and be lashed to the mast, +where she sat without complaint. + +Who can fathom the thoughts of that bewildered child, as she sat amid +the spray and the howling of the blast, while the doomed vessel drifted +on with her to the shore? Did all the error and sorrow of her life pass +distinctly before her? Or did the roar of the surf lull her into quiet, +like the unconscious kindness of wild creatures that toss and bewilder +their prey into unconsciousness ere they harm it? None can tell. Death +answers no questions; it only makes them needless. + +The morning brought to the scene John Lambert, just arrived by land from +New York. + +The passion of John Lambert for his wife was of that kind which ennobles +while it lasts, but which rarely outlasts marriage. A man of such +uncongenial mould will love an enchanting woman with a mad, absorbing +passion, where self-sacrifice is so mingled with selfishness that the +two emotions seem one; he will hungrily yearn to possess her, to call +her by his own name, to hold her in his arms, to kill any one else who +claims her. But when she is once his wife, and his arms hold a body +without a soul,--no soul at least for him,--then her image is almost +inevitably profaned, and the passion which began too high for earth ends +far too low for heaven. Let now death change that form to marble, and +instantly it resumes its virgin holiness; though the presence of life +did not sanctify, its departure does. It is only the true lover to whom +the breathing form is as sacred as the breathless. + +That ideality of nature which love had developed in this man, and which +had already drooped a little during his brief period of marriage, was +born again by the side of death. While Philip wandered off silent and +lonely with his grief, John Lambert knelt by the beautiful remains, +talking inarticulately, his eyes streaming with unchecked tears. Again +was Emilia, in her marble paleness, the calm centre of a tragedy she +herself had caused. The wild, ungoverned child was the image of peace; +it was the stolid and prosperous man who was in the storm. It was not +till Hope came that there was any change. Then his prostrate nature +sought hers, as the needle leaps to the iron; the first touch of her +hand, the sight of her kiss upon Emilia's forehead, made him strong. It +was the thorough subjection of a worldly man to the higher organization +of a noble woman, and thenceforth it never varied. In later years, after +he had foolishly sought, as men will, to win her to a nearer tie, there +was no moment when she had not full control over his time, his energies, +and his wealth. + +After it was all ended, Hope told him everything that had happened; but +in that wild moment of his despair she told him nothing. Only she and +Harry knew the story of the young Swiss; and now that Emilia was gone, +her early lover had no wish to speak of her to any but these two, or to +linger long where she had been doubly lost to him, by marriage and by +death. The world, with all its prying curiosity, usually misses the key +to the very incidents about which it asks most questions; and of the +many who gossiped or mourned concerning Emilia, none knew the tragic +complication which her death alone could have solved. The breaking of +Hope's engagement to Philip was attributed to every cause but the true +one. And when the storm of the great Rebellion broke over the land, its +vast calamity absorbed all minor griefs. + + + + +XXIII. REQUIESCAT. + +THANK God! it is not within the power of one man's errors to blight the +promise of a life like that of Hope. It is but a feeble destiny that +is wrecked by passion, when it should be ennobled. Aunt Jane and Kate +watched Hope closely during her years of probation, for although she +fancied herself to be keeping her own counsel, yet her career lay +in broad light for them. She was like yonder sailboat, which floats +conspicuous by night amid the path of moonbeams, and which yet seems to +its own voyagers to be remote and unseen upon a waste of waves. + +Why should I linger over the details of her life, after the width +of ocean lay between her and Malbone, and a manhood of self-denying +usefulness had begun to show that even he could learn something by +life's retributions? We know what she was, and it is of secondary +importance where she went or what she did. Kindle the light of the +light-house, and it has nothing to do, except to shine. There is for it +no wrong direction. There is no need to ask, "How? Over which especial +track of distant water must my light go forth, to find the wandering +vessel to be guided in?" It simply shines. Somewhere there is a ship +that needs it, or if not, the light does its duty. So did Hope. + +We must leave her here. Yet I cannot bear to think of her as passing +through earthly life without tasting its deepest bliss, without the last +pure ecstasy of human love, without the kisses of her own children on +her lips, their waxen fingers on her bosom. + +And yet again, is this life so long? May it not be better to wait until +its little day is done, and the summer night of old age has yielded to +a new morning, before attaining that acme of joy? Are there enough +successive grades of bliss for all eternity, if so much be consummated +here? Must all novels end with an earthly marriage, and nothing be left +for heaven? + +Perhaps, for such as Hope, this life is given to show what happiness +might be, and they await some other sphere for its fulfilment. The +greater part of the human race live out their mortal years without +attaining more than a far-off glimpse of the very highest joy. Were this +life all, its very happiness were sadness. If, as I doubt not, there +be another sphere, then that which is unfulfilled in this must yet +find completion, nothing omitted, nothing denied. And though a thousand +oracles should pronounce this thought an idle dream, neither Hope nor I +would believe them. + +It was a radiant morning of last February when I walked across the low +hills to the scene of the wreck. Leaving the road before reaching +the Fort, I struck across the wild moss-country, full of boulders and +footpaths and stunted cedars and sullen ponds. I crossed the height of +land, where the ruined lookout stands like the remains of a Druidical +temple, and then went down toward the ocean. Banks and ridges of snow +lay here and there among the fields, and the white lines of distant +capes seemed but drifts running seaward. The ocean was gloriously +alive,--the blackest blue, with white caps on every wave; the shore was +all snowy, and the gulls were flying back and forth in crowds; you could +not tell whether they were the white waves coming ashore, or bits of +snow going to sea. A single fragment of ship-timber, black with time and +weeds, and crusty with barnacles, heaved to and fro in the edge of the +surf, and two fishermen's children, a boy and girl, tilted upon it as it +moved, clung with the semblance of terror to each other, and played at +shipwreck. + +The rocks were dark with moisture, steaming in the sun. Great sheets of +ice, white masks of departing winter, clung to every projecting cliff, +or slid with crash and shiver into the surge. Icicles dropped their slow +and reverberating tears upon the rock where Emilia once lay breathless; +and it seemed as if their cold, chaste drops were sent to cleanse from +her memory each scarlet stain, and leave it virginal and pure. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Malbone, by Thomas Wentworth Higginson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALBONE *** + +***** This file should be named 993.txt or 993.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/993/ + +Produced by Judy Boss + +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. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by Judy Boss, Omaha, NE + + + + + +MALBONE: AN OLDPORT ROMANCE. + +by THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. + + + +"What is Nature unless there is an eventful human life passing +within her? + +Many joys and many sorrows are the lights and shadows in which +she shows most beautiful."--THOREAU, MS. Diary. + + + + +CONTENTS. + +PRELUDE + I. AN ARRIVAL + II. PLACE AUX DAMES! + III. A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE + IV. AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION + V. A MULTIVALVE HEART + VI. "SOME LOVER'S CLEAR DAY" + VII. AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION + VIII. TALKING IT OVER + IX. DANGEROUS WAYS + X. REMONSTRANCES + XI. DESCENSUS AVERNI + XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT + XIII. DREAMING DREAMS + XIV. THE NEMESIS OF FASHION + XV. ACROSS THE BAY + XVI. ON THE STAIRS + XVII. DISCOVERY +XVIII. HOPE'S VIGIL + XIX. DE PROFUNDIS + XX. AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE + XXI. A STORM + XXII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS +XXIII. REQUIESCAT + + + + +MALBONE. + +PRELUDE. + +AS one wanders along this southwestern promontory of the Isle +of Peace, and looks down upon the green translucent water which +forever bathes the marble slopes of the Pirates' Cave, it is +natural to think of the ten wrecks with which the past winter +has strewn this shore. Though almost all trace of their +presence is already gone, yet their mere memory lends to these +cliffs a human interest. Where a stranded vessel lies, thither +all steps converge, so long as one plank remains upon another. +There centres the emotion. All else is but the setting, and the +eye sweeps with indifference the line of unpeopled rocks. They +are barren, till the imagination has tenanted them with +possibilities of danger and dismay. The ocean provides the +scenery and properties of a perpetual tragedy, but the interest +arrives with the performers. Till then the shores remain +vacant, like the great conventional armchairs of the French +drama, that wait for Rachel to come and die. + +Yet as I ride along this fashionable avenue in August, and +watch the procession of the young and fair,--as I look at +stately houses, from each of which has gone forth almost within +my memory a funeral or a bride,--then every thoroughfare of +human life becomes in fancy but an ocean shore, with its +ripples and its wrecks. One learns, in growing older, that no +fiction can be so strange nor appear so improbable as would the +simple truth; and that doubtless even Shakespeare did but +timidly transcribe a few of the deeds and passions he had +personally known. For no man of middle age can dare trust +himself to portray life in its full intensity, as he has +studied or shared it; he must resolutely set aside as +indescribable the things most worth describing, and must expect +to be charged with exaggeration, even when he tells the rest. + + + +I. + +AN ARRIVAL. + +IT was one of the changing days of our Oldport midsummer. In +the morning it had rained in rather a dismal way, and Aunt Jane +had said she should put it in her diary. It was a very serious +thing for the elements when they got into Aunt Jane's diary. By +noon the sun came out as clear and sultry as if there had never +been a cloud, the northeast wind died away, the bay was +motionless, the first locust of the summer shrilled from the +elms, and the robins seemed to be serving up butterflies hot +for their insatiable second brood, while nothing seemed +desirable for a human luncheon except ice-cream and fans. In +the afternoon the southwest wind came up the bay, with its line +of dark-blue ripple and its delicious coolness; while the hue +of the water grew more and more intense, till we seemed to be +living in the heart of a sapphire. + +The household sat beneath the large western doorway of the old +Maxwell House,--he rear door, which looks on the water. The +house had just been reoccupied by my Aunt Jane, whose +great-grandfather had built it, though it had for several +generations been out of the family. I know no finer specimen of +those large colonial dwellings in which the genius of Sir +Christopher Wren bequeathed traditions of stateliness to our +democratic days. Its central hall has a carved archway; most +of the rooms have painted tiles and are wainscoted to the +ceiling; the sashes are red-cedar, the great staircase +mahogany; there are pilasters with delicate Corinthian +capitals; there are cherubs' heads and wings that go astray and +lose themselves in closets and behind glass doors; there are +curling acanthus-leaves that cluster over shelves and ledges, +and there are those graceful shell-patterns which one often +sees on old furniture, but rarely in houses. The high front +door still retains its Ionic cornice; and the western entrance, +looking on the bay, is surmounted by carved fruit and flowers, +and is crowned, as is the roof, with that pineapple in whose +symbolic wealth the rich merchants of the last century +delighted. + +Like most of the statelier houses in that region of Oldport, +this abode had its rumors of a ghost and of secret chambers. +The ghost had never been properly lionized nor laid, for Aunt +Jane, the neatest of housekeepers, had discouraged all silly +explorations, had at once required all barred windows to be +opened, all superfluous partitions to be taken down, and +several highly eligible dark-closets to be nailed up. If there +was anything she hated, it was nooks and odd corners. Yet there +had been times that year, when the household would have been +glad to find a few more such hiding-places; for during the +first few weeks the house had been crammed with guests so +closely that the very mice had been ill-accommodated and +obliged to sit up all night, which had caused them much +discomfort and many audible disagreements. + +But this first tumult had passed away; and now there remained +only the various nephews and nieces of the house, including a +due proportion of small children. Two final guests were to +arrive that day, bringing the latest breath of Europe on their +wings,--Philip Malbone, Hope's betrothed; and little Emilia, +Hope's half-sister. + +None of the family had seen Emilia since her wandering mother +had taken her abroad, a fascinating spoiled child of four, and +they were all eager to see in how many ways the succeeding +twelve years had completed or corrected the spoiling. As for +Philip, he had been spoiled, as Aunt Jane declared, from the +day of his birth, by the joint effort of all friends and +neighbors. Everybody had conspired to carry on the process +except Aunt Jane herself, who directed toward him one of her +honest, steady, immovable dislikes, which may be said to have +dated back to the time when his father and mother were married, +some years before he personally entered on the scene. + +The New York steamer, detained by the heavy fog of the night +before, now came in unwonted daylight up the bay. At the first +glimpse, Harry and the boys pushed off in the row-boat; for, as +one of the children said, anybody who had been to Venice would +naturally wish to come to the very house in a gondola. In +another half-hour there was a great entanglement of embraces at +the water-side, for the guests had landed. + +Malbone's self-poised easy grace was the same as ever; his +chestnut-brown eyes were as winning, his features as handsome; +his complexion, too clearly pink for a man, had a sea bronze +upon it: he was the same Philip who had left home, though with +some added lines of care. But in the brilliant little fairy +beside him all looked in vain for the Emilia they remembered as +a child. Her eyes were more beautiful than ever,--the darkest +violet eyes, that grew luminous with thought and almost black +with sorrow. Her gypsy taste, as everybody used to call it, +still showed itself in the scarlet and dark blue of her dress; +but the clouded gypsy tint had gone from her cheek, and in its +place shone a deep carnation, so hard and brilliant that it +appeared to be enamelled on the surface, yet so firm and +deep-dyed that it seemed as if not even death could ever blanch +it. There is a kind of beauty that seems made to be painted on +ivory, and such was hers. Only the microscopic pencil of a +miniature-painter could portray those slender eyebrows, that +arched caressingly over the beautiful eyes,--or the silky hair +of darkest chestnut that crept in a wavy line along the +temples, as if longing to meet the brows,--or those unequalled +lashes! "Unnecessarily long," Aunt Jane afterwards pronounced +them; while Kate had to admit that they did indeed give Emilia +an overdressed look at breakfast, and that she ought to have a +less showy set to match her morning costume. + +But what was most irresistible about Emilia,--that which we all +noticed in this interview, and which haunted us all +thenceforward,--was a certain wild, entangled look she wore, as +of some untamed out-door thing, and a kind of pathetic lost +sweetness in her voice, which made her at once and forever a +heroine of romance with the children. Yet she scarcely seemed +to heed their existence, and only submitted to the kisses of +Hope and Kate as if that were a part of the price of coming +home, and she must pay it. + +Had she been alone, there might have been an awkward pause; for +if you expect a cousin, and there alights a butterfly of the +tropics, what hospitality can you offer? But no sense of +embarrassment ever came near Malbone, especially with the +children to swarm over him and claim him for their own. +Moreover, little Helen got in the first remark in the way of +serious conversation. + +"Let me tell him something!" said the child. "Philip! that +doll of mine that you used to know, only think! she was sick +and died last summer, and went into the rag-bag. And the other +split down the back, so there was an end of her." + +Polar ice would have been thawed by this reopening of +communication. Philip soon had the little maid on his +shoulder,--the natural throne of all children,--and they went +in together to greet Aunt Jane. + +Aunt Jane was the head of the house,--a lady who had spent more +than fifty years in educating her brains and battling with her +ailments. She had received from her parents a considerable +inheritance in the way of whims, and had nursed it up into a +handsome fortune. Being one of the most impulsive of human +beings, she was naturally one of the most entertaining; and +behind all her eccentricities there was a fund of the soundest +sense and the tenderest affection. She had seen much and varied +society, had been greatly admired in her youth, but had chosen +to remain unmarried. Obliged by her physical condition to make +herself the first object, she was saved from utter selfishness +by sympathies as democratic as her personal habits were +exclusive. Unexpected and commonly fantastic in her doings, +often dismayed by small difficulties, but never by large ones, +she sagaciously administered the affairs of all those around +her,--planned their dinners and their marriages, fought out +their bargains and their feuds. + +She hated everything irresolute or vague; people might play at +cat's-cradle or study Spinoza, just as they pleased; but, +whatever they did, they must give their minds to it. She kept +house from an easy-chair, and ruled her dependants with +severity tempered by wit, and by the very sweetest voice in +which reproof was ever uttered. She never praised them, but if +they did anything particularly well, rebuked them +retrospectively, asking why they had never done it well before? +But she treated them munificently, made all manner of plans for +their comfort, and they all thought her the wisest and wittiest +of the human race. So did the youths and maidens of her large +circle; they all came to see her, and she counselled, admired, +scolded, and petted them all. She had the gayest spirits, and +an unerring eye for the ludicrous, and she spoke her mind with +absolute plainness to all comers. Her intuitions were +instantaneous as lightning, and, like that, struck very often +in the wrong place. She was thus extremely unreasonable and +altogether charming. + +Such was the lady whom Emilia and Malbone went up to +greet,--the one shyly, the other with an easy assurance, such +as she always disliked. Emilia submitted to another kiss, while +Philip pressed Aunt Jane's hand, as he pressed all women's, and +they sat down. + +"Now begin to tell your adventures," said Kate. "People always +tell their adventures till tea is ready." + +"Who can have any adventures left," said Philip, "after such +letters as I wrote you all?" + +"Of which we got precisely one!" said Kate. "That made it such +an event, after we had wondered in what part of the globe you +might be looking for the post-office! It was like finding a +letter in a bottle, or disentangling a person from the Dark +Ages." + +"I was at Neuchatel two months; but I had no adventures. I +lodged with a good Pasteur, who taught me geology and German." + +"That is suspicious," said Kate. "Had he a daughter passing +fair?" + +"Indeed he had." + +"And you taught her English? That is what these beguiling +youths always do in novels." + +"Yes." + +"What was her name?" + +"Lili." + +"What a pretty name! How old was she?" + +"She was six." + +"O Philip!" cried Kate; "but I might have known it. Did she +love you very much?" + +Hope looked up, her eyes full of mild reproach at the +possibility of doubting any child's love for Philip. He had +been her betrothed for more than a year, during which time she +had habitually seen him wooing every child he had met as if it +were a woman,--which, for Philip, was saying a great deal. +Happily they had in common the one trait of perfect amiability, +and she knew no more how to be jealous than he to be constant. + +"Lili was easily won," he said. "Other things being equal, +people of six prefer that man who is tallest." + +"Philip is not so very tall," said the eldest of the boys, who +was listening eagerly, and growing rapidly. + +"No," said Philip, meekly. "But then the Pasteur was short, +and his brother was a dwarf." + +"When Lili found that she could reach the ceiling from Mr. +Malbone's shoulder," said Emilia, "she asked no more." + +"Then you knew the pastor's family also, my child," said Aunt +Jane, looking at her kindly and a little keenly. + +"I was allowed to go there sometimes," she began, timidly. + +"To meet her American Cousin," interrupted Philip. "I got some +relaxation in the rules of the school. But, Aunt Jane, you +have told us nothing about your health." + +"There is nothing to tell," she answered. "I should like, if +it were convenient, to be a little better. But in this life, +if one can walk across the floor, and not be an idiot, it is +something. That is all I aim at." + +"Isn't it rather tiresome?" said Emilia, as the elder lady +happened to look at her. + +"Not at all," said Aunt Jane, composedly. "I naturally fall +back into happiness, when left to myself." + +"So you have returned to the house of your fathers," said +Philip. "I hope you like it." + +"It is commonplace in one respect," said Aunt Jane. "General +Washington once slept here." + +"Oh!" said Philip. "It is one of that class of houses?" + +"Yes," said she. "There is not a village in America that has +not half a dozen of them, not counting those where he only +breakfasted. Did ever man sleep like that man? What else could +he ever have done? Who governed, I wonder, while he was asleep? +How he must have travelled! The swiftest horse could scarcely +have carried him from one of these houses to another." + +"I never was attached to the memory of Washington," meditated +Philip; "but I always thought it was the pear-tree. It must +have been that he was such a very unsettled person." + +"He certainly was not what is called a domestic character," +said Aunt Jane. + +"I suppose you are, Miss Maxwell," said Philip. "Do you often +go out?" + +"Sometimes, to drive," said Aunt Jane. "Yesterday I went +shopping with Kate, and sat in the carriage while she bought +under-sleeves enough for a centipede. It is always so with +that child. People talk about the trouble of getting a daughter +ready to be married; but it is like being married once a month +to live with her." + +"I wonder that you take her to drive with you," suggested +Philip, sympathetically. + +"It is a great deal worse to drive without her," said the +impetuous lady. "She is the only person who lets me enjoy +things, and now I cannot enjoy them in her absence. Yesterday +I drove alone over the three beaches, and left her at home with +a dress-maker. Never did I see so many lines of surf; but they +only seemed to me like some of Kate's ball-dresses, with the +prevailing flounces, six deep. I was so enraged that she was +not there, I wished to cover my face with my handkerchief. By +the third beach I was ready for the madhouse." + +"Is Oldport a pleasant place to live in?" asked Emilia, +eagerly. + +"It is amusing in the summer," said Aunt Jane, "though the +society is nothing but a pack of visiting-cards. In winter it +is too dull for young people, and only suits quiet old women +like me, who merely live here to keep the Ten Commandments and +darn their stockings." + +Meantime the children were aiming at Emilia, whose butterfly +looks amazed and charmed them, but who evidently did not know +what to do with their eager affection. + +"I know about you," said little Helen; "I know what you said +when you were little." + +"Did I say anything?" asked Emilia, carelessly. + +"Yes," replied the child, and began to repeat the oft-told +domestic tradition in an accurate way, as if it were a school +lesson. "Once you had been naughty, and your papa thought it +his duty to slap you, and you cried; and he told you in French, +because he always spoke French with you, that he did not punish +you for his own pleasure. Then you stopped crying, and asked, +'Pour le plaisir de qui alors?' That means 'For whose pleasure +then?' Hope said it was a droll question for a little girl to +ask." + +"I do not think it was Emilia who asked that remarkable +question, little girl," said Kate. + +"I dare say it was," said Emilia; "I have been asking it all my +life." Her eyes grew very moist, what with fatigue and +excitement. But just then, as is apt to happen in this world, +they were all suddenly recalled from tears to tea, and the +children smothered their curiosity in strawberries and cream. + +They sat again beside the western door, after tea. The young +moon came from a cloud and dropped a broad path of glory upon +the bay; a black yacht glided noiselessly in, and anchored amid +this tract of splendor. The shadow of its masts was on the +luminous surface, while their reflection lay at a different +angle, and seemed to penetrate far below. Then the departing +steamer went flashing across this bright realm with gorgeous +lustre; its red and green lights were doubled in the paler +waves, its four reflected chimneys chased each other among the +reflected masts. This jewelled wonder passing, a single +fishing-boat drifted silently by, with its one dark sail; and +then the moon and the anchored yacht were left alone. + +Presently some of the luggage came from the wharf. Malbone +brought out presents for everybody; then all the family went to +Europe in photographs, and with some reluctance came back to +America for bed. + + + +II. + +PLACE AUX DAMES! + +IN every town there is one young maiden who is the universal +favorite, who belongs to all sets and is made an exception to +all family feuds, who is the confidante of all girls and the +adopted sister of all young men, up to the time when they +respectively offer themselves to her, and again after they are +rejected. This post was filled in Oldport, in those days, by +my cousin Kate. + +Born into the world with many other gifts, this last and least +definable gift of popularity was added to complete them all. +Nobody criticised her, nobody was jealous of her, her very +rivals lent her their new music and their lovers; and her own +discarded wooers always sought her to be a bridesmaid when they +married somebody else. + +She was one of those persons who seem to have come into the +world well-dressed. There was an atmosphere of elegance around +her, like a costume; every attitude implied a presence-chamber +or a ball-room. The girls complained that in private +theatricals no combination of disguises could reduce Kate to +the ranks, nor give her the "make-up" of a waiting-maid. Yet as +her father was a New York merchant of the precarious or +spasmodic description, she had been used from childhood to the +wildest fluctuations of wardrobe;--a year of Paris +dresses,--then another year spent in making over ancient +finery, that never looked like either finery or antiquity when +it came from her magic hands. Without a particle of vanity or +fear, secure in health and good-nature and invariable +prettiness, she cared little whether the appointed means of +grace were ancient silk or modern muslin. In her periods of +poverty, she made no secret of the necessary devices; the other +girls, of course, guessed them, but her lovers never did, +because she always told them. There was one particular tarlatan +dress of hers which was a sort of local institution. It was +known to all her companions, like the State House. There was a +report that she had first worn it at her christening; the +report originated with herself. The young men knew that she was +going to the party if she could turn that pink tarlatan once +more; but they had only the vaguest impression what a tarlatan +was, and cared little on which side it was worn, so long as +Kate was inside. + +During these epochs of privation her life, in respect to dress, +was a perpetual Christmas-tree of second-hand gifts. Wealthy +aunts supplied her with cast-off shoes of all sizes, from two +and a half up to five, and she used them all. She was reported +to have worn one straw hat through five changes of fashion. It +was averred that, when square crowns were in vogue, she +flattened it over a tin pan, and that, when round crowns +returned, she bent it on the bedpost. There was such a charm +in her way of adapting these treasures, that the other girls +liked to test her with new problems in the way of millinery and +dress-making; millionnaire friends implored her to trim their +hats, and lent her their own things in order to learn how to +wear them. This applied especially to certain rich cousins, shy +and studious girls, who adored her, and to whom society only +ceased to be alarming when the brilliant Kate took them under +her wing, and graciously accepted a few of their newest +feathers. Well might they acquiesce, for she stood by them +superbly, and her most favored partners found no way to her +hand so sure as to dance systematically through that staid +sisterhood. Dear, sunshiny, gracious, generous Kate!--who has +ever done justice to the charm given to this grave old world by +the presence of one free-hearted and joyous girl? + +At the time now to be described, however, Kate's purse was well +filled; and if she wore only second-best finery, it was because +she had lent her very best to somebody else. All that her +doting father asked was to pay for her dresses, and to see her +wear them; and if her friends wore a part of them, it only made +necessary a larger wardrobe, and more varied and pleasurable +shopping. She was as good a manager in wealth as in poverty, +wasted nothing, took exquisite care of everything, and saved +faithfully for some one else all that was not needed for her +own pretty person. + +Pretty she was throughout, from the parting of her jet-black +hair to the high instep of her slender foot; a glancing, +brilliant, brunette beauty, with the piquant charm of perpetual +spirits, and the equipoise of a perfectly healthy nature. She +was altogether graceful, yet she had not the fresh, free grace +of her cousin + +Hope, who was lithe and strong as a hawthorne spray: Kate's +was the narrower grace of culture grown hereditary, an in-door +elegance that was born in her, and of which dancing-school was +but the natural development. You could not picture Hope to your +mind in one position more than in another; she had an endless +variety of easy motion. When you thought of Kate, you +remembered precisely how she sat, how she stood, and how she +walked. That was all, and it was always the same. But is not +that enough? We do not ask of Mary Stuart's portrait that it +should represent her in more than one attitude, and why should +a living beauty need more than two or three? + +Kate was betrothed to her cousin Harry, Hope's brother, and, +though she was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to +each other for a time so long that the memory of man or maiden +aunt ran not to the contrary. She always declared, indeed, that +they were born married, and that their wedding-day would seem +like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet, unobtrusive, and manly. +He might seem commonplace at first beside the brilliant Kate +and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never +commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His +strong, steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature; +when he came into the room, you felt as if a good many people +had been added to the company. He made steady progress in his +profession of the law, through sheer worth; he never dazzled, +but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with short, curling hair, +blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color readily +mounted. Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient +and amiable, but, when overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a +single instant, and no more. It seemed as if a sudden flash of +anger went over him, like the flash that glides along the +glutinous stem of the fraxinella, when you touch it with a +candle; the next moment it had utterly vanished, and was +forgotten as if it had never been. + +Kate's love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured +ties that often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures. +For other temperaments it might have been inadequate; but +theirs matched perfectly, and it was all sufficient for them. +If there was within Kate's range a more heroic and ardent +emotion than that inspired by Harry, it was put forth toward +Hope. This was her idolatry; she always said that it was +fortunate Hope was Hal's sister, or she should have felt it her +duty to give them to each other, and not die till the wedding +was accomplished. Harry shared this adoration to quite a +reasonable extent, for a brother; but his admiration for Philip +Malbone was one that Kate did not quite share. Harry's quieter +mood had been dazzled from childhood by Philip, who had always +been a privileged guest in the household. Kate's clear, +penetrating, buoyant nature had divined Phil's weaknesses, and +had sometimes laughed at them, even from her childhood; though +she did not dislike him, for she did not dislike anybody. But +Harry was magnetized by him very much as women were; believed +him true, because he was tender, and called him only fastidious +where Kate called him lazy. + +Kate was spending that summer with her aunt Jane, whose +especial pet and pride she was. Hope was spending there the +summer vacation of a Normal School in which she had just become +a teacher. Her father had shared in the family ups and downs, +but had finally stayed down, while the rest had remained up. +Fortunately, his elder children were indifferent to this, and +indeed rather preferred it; it was a tradition that Hope had +expressed the wish, when a child, that her father might lose +his property, so that she could become a teacher. As for Harry, +he infinitely preferred the drudgery of a law office to that of +a gentleman of leisure; and as for their step-mother, it turned +out, when she was left a widow, that she had secured for +herself and Emilia whatever property remained, so that she +suffered only the delightful need of living in Europe for +economy. + +The elder brother and sister had alike that fine physical vigor +which New England is now developing, just in time to save it +from decay. Hope was of Saxon type, though a shade less blonde +than her brother; she was a little taller, and of more +commanding presence, with a peculiarly noble carriage of the +shoulders. Her brow was sometimes criticised as being a little +too full for a woman; but her nose was straight, her mouth and +teeth beautiful, and her profile almost perfect. Her complexion +had lost by out-door life something of its delicacy, but had +gained a freshness and firmness that no sunlight could impair. +She had that wealth of hair which young girls find the most +enviable point of beauty in each other. Hers reached below her +knees, when loosened, or else lay coiled, in munificent braids +of gold, full of sparkling lights and contrasted shadows, upon +her queenly head. + +Her eyes were much darker than her hair, and had a way of +opening naively and suddenly, with a perfectly infantine +expression, as if she at that moment saw the sunlight for the +first time. Her long lashes were somewhat like Emilia's, and +she had the same deeply curved eyebrows; in no other point was +there a shade of resemblance between the half-sisters. As +compared with Kate, Hope showed a more abundant physical life; +there was more blood in her; she had ampler outlines, and +health more absolutely unvaried, for she had yet to know the +experience of a day's illness. Kate seemed born to tread upon a +Brussels carpet, and Hope on the softer luxury of the forest +floor. Out of doors her vigor became a sort of ecstasy, and +she walked the earth with a jubilee of the senses, such as +Browning attributes to his Saul. + +This inexhaustible freshness of physical organization seemed to +open the windows of her soul, and make for her a new heaven and +earth every day. It gave also a peculiar and almost +embarrassing directness to her mental processes, and suggested +in them a sort of final and absolute value, as if truth had for +the first time found a perfectly translucent medium. It was +not so much that she said rare things, but her very silence was +eloquent, and there was a great deal of it. Her girlhood had in +it a certain dignity as of a virgin priestess or sibyl. Yet +her hearty sympathies and her healthy energy made her at home +in daily life, and in a democratic society. To Kate, for +instance, she was a necessity of existence, like light or air. +Kate's nature was limited; part of her graceful equipoise was +narrowness. Hope was capable of far more self-abandonment to a +controlling emotion, and, if she ever erred, would err more +widely, for it would be because the whole power of her +conscience was misdirected. "Once let her take wrong for +right," said Aunt Jane, "and stop her if you can; these born +saints give a great deal more trouble than children of this +world, like my Kate." Yet in daily life Hope yielded to her +cousin nine times out of ten; but the tenth time was the key to +the situation. Hope loved Kate devotedly; but Kate believed in +her as the hunted fugitive believes in the north star. + +To these maidens, thus united, came Emilia home from Europe. +The father of Harry and Hope had been lured into a second +marriage with Emilia's mother, a charming and unscrupulous +woman, born with an American body and a French soul. She +having once won him to Paris, held him there life-long, and +kept her step-children at a safe distance. She arranged that, +even after her own death, her daughter should still remain +abroad for education; nor was Emilia ordered back until she +brought down some scandal by a romantic attempt to elope from +boarding-school with a Swiss servant. It was by weaning her +heart from this man that Philip Malbone had earned the thanks +of the whole household during his hasty flight through Europe. +He possessed some skill in withdrawing the female heart from an +undesirable attachment, though it was apt to be done by +substituting another. It was fortunate that, in this case, no +fears could be entertained. Since his engagement Philip had not +permitted himself so much as a flirtation; he and Hope were to +be married soon; he loved and admired her heartily, and had an +indifference to her want of fortune that was quite amazing, +when we consider that he had a fortune of his own. + + + +III. + +A DRIVE ON THE AVENUE. + +OLDPORT AVENUE is a place where a great many carriages may be +seen driving so slowly that they might almost be photographed +without halting, and where their occupants already wear the +dismal expression which befits that process. In these fine +vehicles, following each other in an endless file, one sees +such faces as used to be exhibited in ball-rooms during the +performance of quadrilles, before round dances came in,--faces +marked by the renunciation of all human joy. Sometimes a faint +suspicion suggests itself on the Avenue, that these torpid +countenances might be roused to life, in case some horse should +run away. But that one chance never occurs; the riders may not +yet be toned down into perfect breeding, but the horses are. I +do not know what could ever break the gloom of this joyless +procession, were it not that youth and beauty are always in +fashion, and one sometimes meets an exceptional barouche full +of boys and girls, who could absolutely be no happier if they +were a thousand miles away from the best society. And such a +joyous company were our four youths and maidens when they went +to drive that day, Emilia being left at home to rest after the +fatigues of the voyage. + +"What beautiful horses!" was Hope's first exclamation. "What +grave people!" was her second. + + "What though in solemn silence all + Roll round --" + +quoted Philip. + +"Hope is thinking," said Harry, "whether 'in reason's ear they +all rejoice.'" + +"How COULD you know that?" said she, opening her eyes. + +"One thing always strikes me," said Kate. "The sentence of +stupefaction does not seem to be enforced till after +five-and-twenty. That young lady we just met looked quite +lively and juvenile last year, I remember, and now she has +graduated into a dowager." + +"Like little Helen's kitten," said Philip. "She justly remarks +that, since I saw it last, it is all spoiled into a great big +cat." + +"Those must be snobs," said Harry, as a carriage with unusually +gorgeous liveries rolled by. + +"I suppose so," said Malbone, indifferently. "In Oldport we +call all new-comers snobs, you know, till they have invited us +to their grand ball. Then we go to it, and afterwards speak +well of them, and only abuse their wine." + +"How do you know them for new-comers?" asked Hope, looking +after the carriage. + +"By their improperly intelligent expression," returned Phil. +"They look around them as you do, my child, with the air of +wide-awake curiosity which marks the American traveller. That +is out of place here. The Avenue abhors everything but a +vacuum." + +"I never can find out," continued Hope, "how people recognize +each other here. They do not look at each other, unless they +know each other: and how are they to know if they know, unless +they look first?" + +"It seems an embarrassment," said Malbone. "But it is supposed +that fashion perforates the eyelids and looks through. If you +attempt it in any other way, you are lost. Newly arrived +people look about them, and, the more new wealth they have, the +more they gaze. The men are uneasy behind their recently +educated mustaches, and the women hold their parasols with +trembling hands. It takes two years to learn to drive on the +Avenue. Come again next summer, and you will see in those same +carriages faces of remote superciliousness, that suggest +generations of gout and ancestors." + +"What a pity one feels," said Harry, "for these people who +still suffer from lingering modesty, and need a master to teach +them to be insolent!" + +"They learn it soon enough," said Kate. "Philip is right. +Fashion lies in the eye. People fix their own position by the +way they don't look at you." + +"There is a certain indifference of manner," philosophized +Malbone, "before which ingenuous youth is crushed. I may know +that a man can hardly read or write, and that his father was a +ragpicker till one day he picked up bank-notes for a million. +No matter. If he does not take the trouble to look at me, I +must look reverentially at him." + +"Here is somebody who will look at Hope," cried Kate, suddenly. + +A carriage passed, bearing a young lady with fair hair, and a +keen, bright look, talking eagerly to a small and quiet youth +beside her. + +Her face brightened still more as she caught the eye of Hope, +whose face lighted up in return, and who then sank back with a +sort of sigh of relief, as if she had at last seen somebody she +cared for. The lady waved an un-gloved hand, and drove by. + +"Who is that?" asked Philip, eagerly. He was used to knowing +every one. + +"Hope's pet," said Kate, "and she who pets Hope, Lady Antwerp." + +"Is it possible?" said Malbone. "That young creature? I +fancied her ladyship in spectacles, with little side curls. Men +speak of her with such dismay." + +"Of course," said Kate, "she asks them sensible questions." + +"That is bad," admitted Philip. "Nothing exasperates +fashionable Americans like a really intelligent foreigner. They +feel as Sydney Smith says the English clergy felt about +Elizabeth Fry; she disturbs their repose, and gives rise to +distressing comparisons,--they long to burn her alive. It is +not their notion of a countess." + +"I am sure it was not mine," said Hope; "I can hardly remember +that she is one; I only know that I like her, she is so simple +and intelligent. She might be a girl from a Normal School." + +"It is because you are just that," said Kate, "that she likes +you. She came here supposing that we had all been at such +schools. Then she complained of us,--us girls in what we call +good society, I mean,--because, as she more than hinted, we did +not seem to know anything." + +"Some of the mothers were angry," said Hope. "But Aunt Jane +told her that it was perfectly true, and that her ladyship had +not yet seen the best-educated girls in America, who were +generally the daughters of old ministers and well-to-do +shopkeepers in small New England towns, Aunt Jane said." + +"Yes," said Kate, "she said that the best of those girls went +to High Schools and Normal Schools, and learned things +thoroughly, you know; but that we were only taught at +boarding-schools and by governesses, and came out at eighteen, +and what could we know? Then came Hope, who had been at those +schools, and was the child of refined people too, and Lady +Antwerp was perfectly satisfied." + +"Especially," said Hope, "when Aunt Jane told her that, after +all, schools did not do very much good, for if people were born +stupid they only became more tiresome by schooling. She said +that she had forgotten all she learned at school except the +boundaries of ancient Cappadocia." + +Aunt Jane's fearless sayings always passed current among her +nieces; and they drove on, Hope not being lowered in Philip's +estimation, nor raised in her own, by being the pet of a +passing countess. + +Who would not be charmed (he thought to himself) by this noble +girl, who walks the earth fresh and strong as a Greek goddess, +pure as Diana, stately as Juno? She belongs to the unspoiled +womanhood of another age, and is wasted among these dolls and +butterflies. + +He looked at her. She sat erect and graceful, unable to droop +into the debility of fashionable reclining,--her breezy hair +lifted a little by the soft wind, her face flushed, her full +brown eyes looking eagerly about, her mouth smiling happily. +To be with those she loved best, and to be driving over the +beautiful earth! She was so happy that no mob of fashionables +could have lessened her enjoyment, or made her for a moment +conscious that anybody looked at her. The brilliant equipages +which they met each moment were not wholly uninteresting even +to her, for her affections went forth to some of the riders and +to all the horses. She was as well contented at that moment, on +the glittering Avenue, as if they had all been riding home +through country lanes, and in constant peril of being jolted +out among the whortleberry-bushes. + +Her face brightened yet more as they met a carriage containing +a graceful lady dressed with that exquisiteness of taste that +charms both man and woman, even if no man can analyze and no +woman rival its effect. She had a perfectly high-bred look, and +an eye that in an instant would calculate one's ancestors as +far back as Nebuchadnezzar, and bow to them all together. She +smiled good-naturedly on Hope, and kissed her hand to Kate. + +"So, Hope," said Philip, "you are bent on teaching music to +Mrs. Meredith's children." + +"Indeed I am!" said Hope, eagerly. "O Philip, I shall enjoy it +so! I do not care so very much about her, but she has dear +little girls. And you know I am a born drudge. I have not been +working hard enough to enjoy an entire vacation, but I shall be +so very happy here if I can have some real work for an hour or +two every other day." + +"Hope," said Philip, gravely, "look steadily at these people +whom we are meeting, and reflect. Should you like to have them +say, 'There goes Mrs. Meredith's music teacher'?" + +"Why not?" said Hope, with surprise. "The children are young, +and it is not very presumptuous. I ought to know enough for +that." + +Malbone looked at Kate, who smiled with delight, and put her +hand on that of Hope. Indeed, she kept it there so long that +one or two passing ladies stopped their salutations in mid +career, and actually looked after them in amazement at their +attitude, as who should say, "What a very mixed society!" + +So they drove on,--meeting four-in-hands, and tandems, and +donkey-carts, and a goat-cart, and basket-wagons driven by +pretty girls, with uncomfortable youths in or out of livery +behind. They met, had they but known it, many who were aiming +at notoriety, and some who had it; many who looked contented +with their lot, and some who actually were so. They met some +who put on courtesy and grace with their kid gloves, and laid +away those virtues in their glove-boxes afterwards; while to +others the mere consciousness of kid gloves brought uneasiness, +redness of the face, and a general impression of being all made +of hands. They met the four white horses of an +ex-harness-maker, and the superb harnesses of an +ex-horse-dealer. Behind these came the gayest and most plebeian +equipage of all, a party of journeymen carpenters returning +from their work in a four-horse wagon. Their only fit compeers +were an Italian opera-troupe, who were chatting and +gesticulating on the piazza of the great hotel, and planning, +amid jest and laughter, their future campaigns. Their work +seemed like play, while the play around them seemed like work. +Indeed, most people on the Avenue seemed to be happy in inverse +ratio to their income list. + +As our youths and maidens passed the hotel, a group of French +naval officers strolled forth, some of whom had a good deal of +inexplicable gold lace dangling in festoons from their +shoulders,--"topsail halyards" the American midshipmen called +them. Philip looked hard at one of these gentlemen. + +"I have seen that young fellow before," said he, "or his twin +brother. But who can swear to the personal identity of a +Frenchman?" + + + +IV. + +AUNT JANE DEFINES HER POSITION. + +THE next morning had that luminous morning haze, not quite +dense enough to be called a fog, which is often so lovely in +Oldport. It was perfectly still; the tide swelled and swelled +till it touched the edge of the green lawn behind the house, +and seemed ready to submerge the slender pier; the water looked +at first like glass, till closer gaze revealed long sinuous +undulations, as if from unseen water-snakes beneath. A few rags +of storm-cloud lay over the half-seen hills beyond the bay, and +behind them came little mutterings of thunder, now here, now +there, as if some wild creature were roaming up and down, +dissatisfied, in the shelter of the clouds. The pale haze +extended into the foreground, and half veiled the schooners +that lay at anchor with their sails up. It was sultry, and +there was something in the atmosphere that at once threatened +and soothed. Sometimes a few drops dimpled the water and then +ceased; the muttering creature in the sky moved northward and +grew still. It was a day when every one would be tempted to go +out rowing, but when only lovers would go. Philip and Hope +went. + +Kate and Harry, meanwhile, awaited their opportunity to go in +and visit Aunt Jane. This was a thing that never could be done +till near noon, because that dear lady was very deliberate in +her morning habits, and always averred that she had never seen +the sun rise except in a panorama. She hated to be hurried in +dressing, too; for she was accustomed to say that she must have +leisure to understand herself, and this was clearly an affair +of time. + +But she was never more charming than when, after dressing and +breakfasting in seclusion, and then vigilantly watching her +handmaiden through the necessary dustings and arrangements, she +sat at last, with her affairs in order, to await events. Every +day she expected something entirely new to happen, and was +never disappointed. For she herself always happened, if +nothing else did; she could no more repeat herself than the +sunrise can; and the liveliest visitor always carried away +something fresher and more remarkable than he brought. + +Her book that morning had displeased her, and she was boiling +with indignation against its author. + +"I am reading a book so dry," she said, "it makes me cough. No +wonder there was a drought last summer. It was printed then. +Worcester's Geography seems in my memory as fascinating as +Shakespeare, when I look back upon it from this book. How can a +man write such a thing and live?" + +"Perhaps he lived by writing it," said Kate. + +"Perhaps it was the best he could do," added the more literal +Harry. + +"It certainly was not the best he could do, for he might have +died,--died instead of dried. O, I should like to prick that +man with something sharp, and see if sawdust did not run out of +him! Kate, ask the bookseller to let me know if he ever really +dies, and then life may seem fresh again." + +"What is it?" asked Kate. + +"Somebody's memoirs," said Aunt Jane. "Was there no man left +worth writing about, that they should make a biography about +this one? It is like a life of Napoleon with all the battles +left out. They are conceited enough to put his age in the upper +corner of each page too, as if anybody cared how old he was." + +"Such pretty covers!" said Kate. "It is too bad." + +"Yes," said Aunt Jane. "I mean to send them back and have new +leaves put in. These are so wretched, there is not a teakettle +in the land so insignificant that it would boil over them. +Don't let us talk any more about it. Have Philip and Hope gone +out upon the water?" + +"Yes, dear," said Kate. "Did Ruth tell you?" + +"When did that aimless infant ever tell anything?" + +"Then how did you know it?" + +"If I waited for knowledge till that sweet-tempered parrot +chose to tell me," Aunt Jane went on, "I should be even more +foolish than I am." + +"Then how did you know?" + +"Of course I heard the boat hauled down, and of course I knew +that none but lovers would go out just before a thunder-storm. +Then you and Harry came in, and I knew it was the others." + +"Aunt Jane," said Kate, "you divine everything: what a brain +you have!" + +"Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little +girl's work-basket,--a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white +muslin." + +"Now she is fishing for compliments," said Kate, "and she shall +have one. She was very sweet and good to Philip last night." + +"I know it," said Aunt Jane, with a groan. "I waked in the +night and thought about it. I was awake a great deal last +night. I have heard cocks crowing all my life, but I never +knew what that creature could accomplish before. So I lay and +thought how good and forgiving I was; it was quite +distressing." + +"Remorse?" said Kate. + +"Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought +to be vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I +suffer from a good one." + +"It was no merit of yours, aunt," put in Harry. "Who was ever +more agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?" + +"Lovable!" burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or +manipulated by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against +Harry's blunt assertions. "Of course he is lovable, and that +is why I dislike him. His father was so before him. That is +the worst of it. I never in my life saw any harm done by a +villain; I wish I could. All the mischief in this world is done +by lovable people. Thank Heaven, nobody ever dared to call me +lovable!" + +"I should like to see any one dare call you anything else,--you +dear, old, soft-hearted darling!" interposed Kate. + +"But, aunt," persisted Harry, "if you only knew what the mass +of young men are--" + +"Don't I?" interrupted the impetuous lady. "What is there that +is not known to any woman who has common sense, and eyes enough +to look out of a window?" + +"If you only knew," Harry went on, "how superior Phil Malbone +is, in his whole tone, to any fellow of my acquaintance." + +"Lord help the rest!" she answered. "Philip has a sort of +refinement instead of principles, and a heart instead of a +conscience,--just heart enough to keep himself happy and +everybody else miserable." + +"Do you mean to say," asked the obstinate Hal, "that there is +no difference between refinement and coarseness?" + +"Yes, there is," she said. + +"Well, which is best?" + +"Coarseness is safer by a great deal," said Aunt Jane, "in the +hands of a man like Philip. What harm can that swearing +coachman do, I should like to know, in the street yonder? To be +sure it is very unpleasant, and I wonder they let people swear +so, except, perhaps, in waste places outside the town; but that +is his way of expressing himself, and he only frightens people, +after all." + +"Which Philip does not," said Hal. + +"Exactly. That is the danger. He frightens nobody, not even +himself, when he ought to wear a label round his neck marked +'Dangerous,' such as they have at other places where it is +slippery and brittle. When he is here, I keep saying to myself, +'Too smooth, too smooth!'" + +"Aunt Jane," said Harry, gravely, "I know Malbone very well, +and I never knew any man whom it was more unjust to call a +hypocrite." + +"Did I say he was a hypocrite?" she cried. "He is worse than +that; at least, more really dangerous. It is these high-strung +sentimentalists who do all the mischief; who play on their own +lovely emotions, forsooth, till they wear out those fine +fiddlestrings, and then have nothing left but the flesh and the +D. Don't tell me!" + +"Do stop, auntie," interposed Kate, quite alarmed, "you are +really worse than a coachman. You are growing very profane +indeed." + +"I have a much harder time than any coachman, Kate," retorted +the injured lady. "Nobody tries to stop him, and you are +always hushing me up." + +"Hushing you up, darling?" said Kate. "When we only spoil you +by praising and quoting everything you say." + +"Only when it amuses you," said Aunt Jane. "So long as I sit +and cry my eyes out over a book, you all love me, and when I +talk nonsense, you are ready to encourage it; but when I begin +to utter a little sense, you all want to silence me, or else +run out of the room! Yesterday I read about a newspaper +somewhere, called the 'Daily Evening Voice'; I wish you would +allow me a daily morning voice." + +"Do not interfere, Kate," said Hal. "Aunt Jane and I only wish +to understand each other." + +"I am sure we don't," said Aunt Jane; "I have no desire to +understand you, and you never will understand me till you +comprehend Philip." + +"Let us agree on one thing," Harry said. "Surely, aunt, you +know how he loves Hope?" + +Aunt Jane approached a degree nearer the equator, and said, +gently, "I fear I do." + +"Fear?" + +"Yes, fear. That is just what troubles me. I know precisely +how he loves her. Il se laisse aimer. Philip likes to be +petted, as much as any cat, and, while he will purr, Hope is +happy. Very few men accept idolatry with any degree of grace, +but he unfortunately does." + +"Unfortunately?" remonstrated Hal, as far as ever from being +satisfied. "This is really too bad. You never will do him any +justice." + +"Ah?" said Aunt Jane, chilling again, "I thought I did. I +observe he is very much afraid of me, and there seems to be no +other reason." + +"The real trouble is," said Harry, after a pause, "that you +doubt his constancy." + +"What do you call constancy?" said she. "Kissing a woman's +picture ten years after a man has broken her heart? Philip +Malbone has that kind of constancy, and so had his father +before him." + +This was too much for Harry, who was making for the door in +indignation, when little Ruth came in with Aunt Jane's +luncheon, and that lady was soon absorbed in the hopeless task +of keeping her handmaiden's pretty blue and white gingham +sleeve out of the butter-plate. + + + +V. + +A MULTIVALVE HEART. + +PHILIP MALBONE had that perfectly sunny temperament which is +peculiarly captivating among Americans, because it is so rare. +He liked everybody and everybody liked him; he had a thousand +ways of affording pleasure, and he received it in the giving. +He had a personal beauty, which, strange to say, was recognized +by both sexes,--for handsome men must often consent to be +mildly hated by their own. He had travelled much, and had +mingled in very varied society; he had a moderate fortune, no +vices, no ambition, and no capacity of ennui. + +He was fastidious and over-critical, it might be, in his +theories, but in practice he was easily suited and never vexed. + +He liked travelling, and he liked staying at home; he was so +continually occupied as to give an apparent activity to all his +life, and yet he was never too busy to be interrupted, +especially if the intruder were a woman or a child. He liked +to be with people of his own age, whatever their condition; he +also liked old people because they were old, and children +because they were young. In travelling by rail, he would woo +crying babies out of their mothers' arms, and still them; it +was always his back that Irishwomen thumped, to ask if they +must get out at the next station; and he might be seen handing +out decrepit paupers, as if they were of royal blood and bore +concealed sceptres in their old umbrellas. Exquisitely nice in +his personal habits, he had the practical democracy of a +good-natured young prince; he had never yet seen a human being +who awed him, nor one whom he had the slightest wish to awe. +His courtesy, had, therefore, that comprehensiveness which we +call republican, though it was really the least republican +thing about him. All felt its attraction; there was really no +one who disliked him, except Aunt Jane; and even she admitted +that he was the only person who knew how to cut her +lead-pencil. + +That cheerful English premier who thought that any man ought to +find happiness enough in walking London streets and looking at +the lobsters in the fish-markets, was not more easily satisfied +than Malbone. He liked to observe the groups of boys fishing +at the wharves, or to hear the chat of their fathers about +coral-reefs and penguins' eggs; or to sketch the fisher's +little daughter awaiting her father at night on some deserted +and crumbling wharf, his blue pea-jacket over her fair +ring-leted head, and a great cat standing by with tail +uplifted, her sole protector. He liked the luxurious indolence +of yachting, and he liked as well to float in his wherry among +the fleet of fishing schooners getting under way after a three +days' storm, each vessel slipping out in turn from the closely +packed crowd, and spreading its white wings for flight. He +liked to watch the groups of negro boys and girls strolling by +the window at evening, and strumming on the banjo,--the only +vestige of tropical life that haunts our busy Northern zone. +But he liked just as well to note the ways of well-dressed +girls and boys at croquet parties, or to sit at the club window +and hear the gossip. He was a jewel of a listener, and was not +easily bored even when Philadelphians talked about families, or +New Yorkers about bargains, or Bostonians about books. A man +who has not one absorbing aim can get a great many +miscellaneous things into each twenty-four hours; and there was +not a day in which Philip did not make himself agreeable and +useful to many people, receive many confidences, and give much +good-humored advice about matters of which he knew nothing. His +friends' children ran after him in the street, and he knew the +pet theories and wines of elderly gentlemen. He said that he +won their hearts by remembering every occurrence in their lives +except their birthdays. + +It was, perhaps, no drawback on the popularity of Philip +Malbone that he had been for some ten years reproached as a +systematic flirt by all women with whom he did not happen at +the moment to be flirting. The reproach was unjust; he had +never done anything systematically in his life; it was his +temperament that flirted, not his will. He simply had that most +perilous of all seductive natures, in which the seducer is +himself seduced. With a personal refinement that almost +amounted to purity, he was constantly drifting into loves more +profoundly perilous than if they had belonged to a grosser man. +Almost all women loved him, because he loved almost all; he +never had to assume an ardor, for he always felt it. His heart +was multivalve; he could love a dozen at once in various modes +and gradations, press a dozen hands in a day, gaze into a dozen +pair of eyes with unfeigned tenderness; while the last pair +wept for him, he was looking into the next. In truth, he loved +to explore those sweet depths; humanity is the highest thing to +investigate, he said, and the proper study of mankind is woman. +Woman needs to be studied while under the influence of emotion; +let us therefore have the emotions. This was the reason he gave +to himself; but this refined Mormonism of the heart was not +based on reason, but on temperament and habit. In such matters +logic is only for the by-standers. + +His very generosity harmed him, as all our good qualities may +harm us when linked with bad ones; he had so many excuses for +doing kindnesses to his friends, it was hard to quarrel with +him if he did them too tenderly. He was no more capable of +unkindness than of constancy; and so strongly did he fix the +allegiance of those who loved him, that the women to whom he +had caused most anguish would still defend him when accused; +would have crossed the continent, if needed, to nurse him in +illness, and would have rained rivers of tears on his grave. +To do him justice, he would have done almost as much for +them,--for any of them. He could torture a devoted heart, but +only through a sort of half-wilful unconsciousness; he could +not bear to see tears shed in his presence, nor to let his +imagination dwell very much on those which flowed in his +absence. When he had once loved a woman, or even fancied that +he loved her, he built for her a shrine that was never +dismantled, and in which a very little faint incense would +sometimes be found burning for years after; he never quite +ceased to feel a languid thrill at the mention of her name; he +would make even for a past love the most generous sacrifices of +time, convenience, truth perhaps,--everything, in short, but +the present love. To those who had given him all that an +undivided heart can give he would deny nothing but an undivided +heart in return. The misfortune was that this was the only +thing they cared to possess. + +This abundant and spontaneous feeling gave him an air of +earnestness, without which he could not have charmed any woman, +and, least of all, one like Hope. No woman really loves a +trifler; she must at least convince herself that he who trifles +with others is serious with her. Philip was never quite serious +and never quite otherwise; he never deliberately got up a +passion, for it was never needful; he simply found an object +for his emotions, opened their valves, and then watched their +flow. To love a charming woman in her presence is no test of +genuine passion; let us know how much you long for her in +absence. This longing had never yet seriously troubled Malbone, +provided there was another charming person within an easy walk. + +If it was sometimes forced upon him that all this ended in +anguish to some of these various charmers, first or last, then +there was always in reserve the pleasure of repentance. He was +very winning and generous in his repentances, and he enjoyed +them so much they were often repeated. He did not pass for a +weak person, and he was not exactly weak; but he spent his life +in putting away temptations with one hand and pulling them back +with the other. There was for him something piquant in being +thus neither innocent nor guilty, but always on some delicious +middle ground. He loved dearly to skate on thin ice,--that was +the trouble,--especially where he fancied the water to be just +within his depth. Unluckily the sea of life deepens rather +fast. + +Malbone had known Hope from her childhood, as he had known her +cousins, but their love dated from their meetings beside the +sickbed of his mother, over whom he had watched with unstinted +devotion for weary months. She had been very fond of the young +girl, and her last earthly act was to place Hope's hand in +Philip's. Long before this final consecration, Hope had won his +heart more thoroughly, he fancied, than any woman he had ever +seen. The secret of this crowning charm was, perhaps, that she +was a new sensation. He had prided himself on his knowledge of +her sex, and yet here was a wholly new species. He was +acquainted with the women of society, and with the women who +only wished to be in society. But here was one who was in the +chrysalis, and had never been a grub, and had no wish to be a +butterfly, and what should he make of her? He was like a +student of insects who had never seen a bee. Never had he +known a young girl who cared for the things which this maiden +sought, or who was not dazzled by things to which Hope seemed +perfectly indifferent. She was not a devotee, she was not a +prude; people seemed to amuse and interest her; she liked them, +she declared, as much as she liked books. But this very way of +putting the thing seemed like inverting the accustomed order of +affairs in the polite world, and was of itself a novelty. + +Of course he had previously taken his turn for a while among +Kate's admirers; but it was when she was very young, and, +moreover, it was hard to get up anything like a tender and +confidential relation with that frank maiden; she never would +have accepted Philip Malbone for herself, and she was by no +means satisfied with his betrothal to her best beloved. But +that Hope loved him ardently there was no doubt, however it +might be explained. Perhaps it was some law of opposites, and +she needed some one of lighter nature than her own. As her +resolute purpose charmed him, so she may have found a certain +fascination in the airy way in which he took hold on life; he +was so full of thought and intelligence; possessing infinite +leisure, and yet incapable of ennui; ready to oblige every one, +and doing so many kind acts at so little personal sacrifice; +always easy, graceful, lovable, and kind. In her just +indignation at those who called him heartless, she forgot to +notice that his heart was not deep. He was interested in all +her pursuits, could aid her in all her studies, suggest schemes +for her benevolent desires, and could then make others work for +her, and even work himself. People usually loved Philip, even +while they criticised him; but Hope loved him first, and then +could not criticise him at all. + +Nature seems always planning to equalize characters, and to +protect our friends from growing too perfect for our deserts. +Love, for instance, is apt to strengthen the weak, and yet +sometimes weakens the strong. Under its influence Hope +sometimes appeared at disadvantage. Had the object of her love +been indifferent, the result might have been otherwise, but her +ample nature apparently needed to contract itself a little, to +find room within Philip's heart. Not that in his presence she +became vain or petty or jealous; that would have been +impossible. She only grew credulous and absorbed and blind. A +kind of gentle obstinacy, too, developed itself in her nature, +and all suggestion of defects in him fell off from her as from +a marble image of Faith. If he said or did anything, there was +no appeal; that was settled, let us pass to something else. + +I almost blush to admit that Aunt Jane--of whom it could by no +means be asserted that she was a saintly lady, but only a very +charming one--rather rejoiced in this transformation. + +"I like it better, my dear," she said, with her usual +frankness, to Kate. "Hope was altogether too heavenly for my +style. When she first came here, I secretly thought I never +should care anything about her. She seemed nothing but a +little moral tale. I thought she would not last me five +minutes. But now she is growing quite human and ridiculous +about that Philip, and I think I may find her very attractive +indeed." + + + +VI. + +"SOME LOVER'S CLEAR DAY." + +"HOPE!" said Philip Malbone, as they sailed together in a +little boat the next morning, "I have come back to you from +months of bewildered dreaming. I have been wandering,--no +matter where. I need you. You cannot tell how much I need +you." + +"I can estimate it," she answered, gently, "by my need of you." + +"Not at all," said Philip, gazing in her trustful face. "Any +one whom you loved would adore you, could he be by your side. +You need nothing. It is I who need you." + +"Why?" she asked, simply. + +"Because," he said, "I am capable of behaving very much like a +fool. Hope, I am not worthy of you; why do you love me? why do +you trust me?" + +"I do not know how I learned to love you," said Hope. "It is a +blessing that was given to me. But I learned to trust you in +your mother's sick-room." + +"Ay," said Philip, sadly, "there, at least, I did my full +duty." + +"As few would have done it," said Hope, firmly,--"very few. +Such prolonged self-sacrifice must strengthen a man for life." + +"Not always," said Philip, uneasily. "Too much of that sort of +thing may hurt one, I fancy, as well as too little. He may come +to imagine that the balance of virtue is in his favor, and that +he may grant himself a little indulgence to make up for lost +time. That sort of recoil is a little dangerous, as I +sometimes feel, do you know?" + +"And you show it," said Hope, ardently, "by fresh sacrifices! +How much trouble you have taken about Emilia! Some time, when +you are willing, you shall tell me all about it. You always +seemed to me a magician, but I did not think that even you +could restore her to sense and wisdom so soon." + +Malbone was just then very busy putting the boat about; but +when he had it on the other tack, he said, "How do you like +her?" + +"Philip," said Hope, her eyes filling with tears, "I wonder if +you have the slightest conception how my heart is fixed on that +child. She has always been a sort of dream to me, and the +difficulty of getting any letters from her has only added to +the excitement. Now that she is here, my whole heart yearns +toward her. Yet, when I look into her eyes, a sort of blank +hopelessness comes over me. They seem like the eyes of some +untamable creature whose language I shall never learn. Philip, +you are older and wiser than I, and have shown already that you +understand her. Tell me what I can do to make her love me?" + +"Tell me how any one could help it?" said Malbone, looking +fondly on the sweet, pleading face before him. + +"I am beginning to fear that it can be helped," she said. Her +thoughts were still with Emilia. + +"Perhaps it can," said Phil, "if you sit so far away from +people. Here we are alone on the bay. Come and sit by me, +Hope." + +She had been sitting amidships, but she came aft at once, and +nestled by him as he sat holding the tiller. She put her face +against his knee, like a tired child, and shut her eyes; her +hair was lifted by the summer breeze; a scent of roses came +from her; the mere contact of anything so fresh and pure was a +delight. He put his arm around her, and all the first ardor of +passion came back to him again; he remembered how he had longed +to win this Diana, and how thoroughly she was won. + +"It is you who do me good," said she. "O Philip, sail as +slowly as you can." But he only sailed farther, instead of more +slowly, gliding in and out among the rocky islands in the light +north wind, which, for a wonder, lasted all that day,--dappling +the bare hills of the Isle of Shadows with a shifting beauty. +The tide was in and brimming, the fishing-boats were busy, +white gulls soared and clattered round them, and heavy +cormorants flapped away as they neared the rocks. Beneath the +boat the soft multitudinous jellyfishes waved their fringed +pendants, or glittered with tremulous gold along their pink, +translucent sides. Long lines and streaks of paler blue lay +smoothly along the enamelled surface, the low, amethystine +hills lay couched beyond them, and little clouds stretched +themselves in lazy length above the beautiful expanse. They +reached the ruined fort at last, and Philip, surrendering Hope +to others, was himself besieged by a joyous group. + +As you stand upon the crumbling parapet of old Fort Louis, you +feel yourself poised in middle air; the sea-birds soar and +swoop around you, the white surf lashes the rocks far below, +the white vessels come and go, the water is around you on all +sides but one, and spreads its pale blue beauty up the lovely +bay, or, in deeper tints, southward towards the horizon line. I +know of no ruin in America which nature has so resumed; it +seems a part of the living rock; you cannot imagine it away. + +It is a single round, low tower, shaped like the tomb of +Cacilia Metella. But its stately position makes it rank with +the vast sisterhood of wave-washed strongholds; it might be +King Arthur's Cornish Tyntagel; it might be "the teocallis +tower" of Tuloom. As you gaze down from its height, all things +that float upon the ocean seem equalized. Look at the crowded +life on yonder frigate, coming in full-sailed before the steady +sea-breeze. To furl that heavy canvas, a hundred men cluster +like bees upon the yards, yet to us upon this height it is all +but a plaything for the eyes, and we turn with equal interest +from that thronged floating citadel to some lonely boy in his +skiff. + +Yonder there sail to the ocean, beating wearily to windward, a +few slow vessels. Inward come jubilant white schooners, +wing-and-wing. There are fishing-smacks towing their boats +behind them like a family of children; and there are slender +yachts that bear only their own light burden. Once from this +height I saw the whole yacht squadron round Point Judith, and +glide in like a flock of land-bound sea-birds; and above them, +yet more snowy and with softer curves, pressed onward the white +squadrons of the sky. + +Within, the tower is full of debris, now disintegrated into one +solid mass, and covered with vegetation. You can lie on the +blossoming clover, where the bees hum and the crickets chirp +around you, and can look through the arch which frames its own +fair picture. In the foreground lies the steep slope overgrown +with bayberry and gay with thistle blooms; then the little +winding cove with its bordering cliffs; and the rough pastures +with their grazing sheep beyond. Or, ascending the parapet, +you can look across the bay to the men making hay picturesquely +on far-off lawns, or to the cannon on the outer works of Fort +Adams, looking like vast black insects that have crawled forth +to die. + +Here our young people spent the day; some sketched, some played +croquet, some bathed in rocky inlets where the kingfisher +screamed above them, some rowed to little craggy isles for wild +roses, some fished, and then were taught by the boatmen to cook +their fish in novel island ways. The morning grew more and more +cloudless, and then in the afternoon a fog came and went again, +marching by with its white armies, soon met and annihilated by +a rainbow. + +The conversation that day was very gay and incoherent,--little +fragments of all manner of things; science, sentiment, +everything: "Like a distracted dictionary," Kate said. At +last this lively maiden got Philip away from the rest, and +began to cross-question him. + +"Tell me," she said, "about Emilia's Swiss lover. She shuddered +when she spoke of him. Was he so very bad?" + +"Not at all," was the answer. "You had false impressions of +him. He was a handsome, manly fellow, a little +over-sentimental. He had travelled, and had been a merchant's +clerk in Paris and London. Then he came back, and became a +boatman on the lake, some said, for love of her." + +"Did she love him?" + +"Passionately, as she thought." + +"Did he love her much?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Then why did she stop loving him?" + +"She does not hate him?" + +"No," said Kate, "that is what surprises me. Lovers hate, or +those who have been lovers. She is only indifferent. Philip, +she had wound silk upon a torn piece of his carte-de-visite, +and did not know it till I showed it to her. Even then she did +not care." + +"Such is woman!" said Philip. + +"Nonsense," said Kate. "She had seen somebody whom she loved +better, and she still loves that somebody. Who was it? She +had not been introduced into society. Were there any superior +men among her teachers? She is just the girl to fall in love +with her teacher, at least in Europe, where they are the only +men one sees." + +"There were some very superior men among them," said Philip. +"Professor Schirmer has a European reputation; he wears blue +spectacles and a maroon wig." + +"Do not talk so," said Kate. "I tell you, Emilia is not +changeable, like you, sir. She is passionate and constant. She +would have married that man or died for him. You may think +that your sage counsels restrained her, but they did not; it +was that she loved some one else. Tell me honestly. Do you not +know that there is somebody in Europe whom she loves to +distraction?" + +"I do not know it," said Philip. + +"Of course you do not KNOW it," returned the questioner. "Do +you not think it?" + +"I have no reason to believe it." + +"That has nothing to do with it," said Kate. "Things that we +believe without any reason have a great deal more weight with +us. Do you not believe it?" + +"No," said Philip, point-blank. + +"It is very strange," mused Kate. "Of course you do not know +much about it. She may have misled you, but I am sure that +neither you nor any one else could have cured her of a passion, +especially an unreasonable one, without putting another in its +place. If you did it without that, you are a magician, as Hope +once called you. Philip, I am afraid of you." + +"There we sympathize," said Phil. "I am sometimes afraid of +myself, but I discover within half an hour what a very +commonplace land harmless person I am." + +Meantime Emilia found herself beside her sister, who was +sketching. After watching Hope for a time in silence, she began +to question her. + +"Tell me what you have been doing in all these years," she +said. + +"O, I have been at school," said Hope. "First I went through +the High School; then I stayed out of school a year, and +studied Greek and German with my uncle, and music with my aunt, +who plays uncommonly well. Then I persuaded them to let me go +to the Normal School for two years, and learn to be a teacher." + +"A teacher!" said Emilia, with surprise. "Is it necessary that +you should be a teacher?" + +"Very necessary," replied Hope. "I must have something to do, +you know, after I leave school." + +"To do?" said the other. "Cannot you go to parties?" + +"Not all the time," said her sister. + +"Well," said Emilia, "in the mean time you can go to drive, or +make calls, or stay at home and make pretty little things to +wear, as other girls do." + +"I can find time for that too, little sister, when I need them. +But I love children, you know, and I like to teach interesting +studies. I have splendid health, and I enjoy it all. I like it +as you love dancing, my child, only I like dancing too, so I +have a greater variety of enjoyments." + +"But shall you not sometimes find it very hard?" said Emilia. + +"That is why I shall like it," was the answer. + +"What a girl you are!" exclaimed the younger sister. "You know +everything and can do everything." + +"A very short everything," interposed Hope. + +"Kate says," continued Emilia, "that you speak French as well +as I do, and I dare say you dance a great deal better; and +those are the only things I know." + +"If we both had French partners, dear," replied the elder +maiden, "they would soon find the difference in both respects. +My dancing came by nature, I believe, and I learned French as a +child, by talking with my old uncle, who was half a Parisian. +I believe I have a good accent, but I have so little practice +that I have no command of the language compared to yours. In a +week or two we can both try our skill, as there is to be a ball +for the officers of the French corvette yonder," and Hope +pointed to the heavy spars, the dark canvas, and the high +quarter-deck which made the "Jean Hoche" seem as if she had +floated out of the days of Nelson. + +The calm day waned, the sun drooped to his setting amid a few +golden bars and pencilled lines of light. Ere they were ready +for departure, the tide had ebbed, and, in getting the boats to +a practicable landing-place, Malbone was delayed behind the +others. As he at length brought his boat to the rock, Hope sat +upon the ruined fort, far above him, and sang. Her noble +contralto voice echoed among the cliffs down to the smooth +water; the sun went down behind her, and still she sat stately +and noble, her white dress looking more and more spirit-like +against the golden sky; and still the song rang on,-- + +"Never a scornful word should grieve thee, +I'd smile on thee, sweet, as the angels do; +Sweet as thy smile on me shone ever, +Douglas, Douglas, tender and true." + +All sacredness and sweetness, all that was pure and brave and +truthful, seemed to rest in her. And when the song ceased at +his summons, and she came down to meet him,--glowing, +beautiful, appealing, tender,--then all meaner spells vanished, +if such had ever haunted him, and he was hers alone. + +Later that evening, after the household had separated, Hope +went into the empty drawing-room for a light. Philip, after a +moment's hesitation, followed her, and paused in the doorway. +She stood, a white-robed figure, holding the lighted candle; +behind her rose the arched alcove, whose quaint cherubs looked +down on her; she seemed to have stepped forth, the awakened +image of a saint. Looking up, she saw his eager glance; then +she colored, trembled, and put the candle down. He came to her, +took her hand and kissed it, then put his hand upon her brow +and gazed into her face, then kissed her lips. She quietly +yielded, but her color came and went, and her lips moved as if +to speak. For a moment he saw her only, thought only of her. + +Then, even while he gazed into her eyes, a flood of other +memories surged over him, and his own eyes grew dim. His head +swam, the lips he had just kissed appeared to fade away, and +something of darker, richer beauty seemed to burn through those +fair features; he looked through those gentle eyes into orbs +more radiant, and it was as if a countenance of eager passion +obliterated that fair head, and spoke with substituted lips, +"Behold your love." There was a thrill of infinite ecstasy in +the work his imagination did; he gave it rein, then suddenly +drew it in and looked at Hope. Her touch brought pain for an +instant, as she laid her hand upon him, but he bore it. Then +some influence of calmness came; there swept by him a flood of +earlier, serener memories; he sat down in the window-seat +beside her, and when she put her face beside his, and her soft +hair touched his cheek, and he inhaled the rose-odor that +always clung round her, every atom of his manhood stood up to +drive away the intruding presence, and he again belonged to her +alone. + +When he went to his chamber that night, he drew from his pocket +a little note in a girlish hand, which he lighted in the +candle, and put upon the open hearth to burn. With what a +cruel, tinkling rustle the pages flamed and twisted and opened, +as if the fire read them, and collapsed again as if in +agonizing effort to hold their secret even in death! The +closely folded paper refused to burn, it went out again and +again; while each time Philip Malbone examined it ere +relighting, with a sort of vague curiosity, to see how much +passion had already vanished out of existence, and how much yet +survived. For each of these inspections he had to brush aside +the calcined portion of the letter, once so warm and beautiful +with love, but changed to something that seemed to him a +semblance of his own heart just then,--black, trivial, and +empty. + +Then he took from a little folded paper a long tress of dark +silken hair, and, without trusting himself to kiss it, held it +firmly in the candle. It crisped and sparkled, and sent out a +pungent odor, then turned and writhed between his fingers, like +a living thing in pain. What part of us has earthly immortality +but our hair? It dies not with death. When all else of human +beauty has decayed beyond corruption into the more agonizing +irrecov-erableness of dust, the hair is still fresh and +beautiful, defying annihilation, and restoring to the powerless +heart the full association of the living image. These +shrinking hairs, they feared not death, but they seemed to fear +Malbone. Nothing but the hand of man could destroy what he was +destroying; but his hand shrank not, and it was done. + + + +VII. + +AN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. + +AT the celebrated Oldport ball for the French officers, the +merit of each maiden was estimated by the number of foreigners +with whom she could talk at once, for there were more gentlemen +than ladies, and not more than half the ladies spoke French. +Here Emilia was in her glory; the ice being once broken, +officers were to her but like so many school-girls, and she +rattled away to the admiral and the fleet captain and two or +three lieutenants at once, while others hovered behind the +circle of her immediate adorers, to pick up the stray shafts of +what passed for wit. Other girls again drove two-in-hand, at +the most, in the way of conversation; while those least gifted +could only encounter one small Frenchman in some safe corner, +and converse chiefly by smiles and signs. + +On the whole, the evening opened gayly. Newly arrived +Frenchmen are apt to be so unused to the familiar society of +unmarried girls, that the most innocent share in it has for +them the zest of forbidden fruit, and the most blameless +intercourse seems almost a bonne fortune. Most of these +officers were from the lower ranks of French society, but they +all had that good-breeding which their race wears with such +ease, and can unhappily put off with the same. + +The admiral and the fleet captain were soon turned over to +Hope, who spoke French as she did English, with quiet grace. +She found them agreeable companions, while Emilia drifted among +the elder midshipmen, who were dazzling in gold lace if not in +intellect. Kate fell to the share of a vehement little +surgeon, who danced her out of breath. Harry officiated as +interpreter between the governor of the State and a lively +young ensign, who yearned for the society of dignitaries. The +governor was quite aware that he himself could not speak +French; the Frenchman was quite unaware that he himself could +not speak English; but with Harry's aid they plunged boldly +into conversation. Their talk happened to fall on +steam-engines, English, French, American; their comparative +cost, comparative power, comparative cost per horse +power,--until Harry, who was not very strong upon the +steam-engine in his own tongue, and was quite helpless on that +point in any other, got a good deal astray among the numerals, +and implanted some rather wild statistics in the mind of each. +The young Frenchman was far more definite, when requested by +the governor to state in English the precise number of men +engaged on board the corvette. With the accuracy of his +nation, he beamingly replied, "Seeshun-dredtousand." + +As is apt to be the case in Oldport, other European +nationalities beside the French were represented, though the +most marked foreign accent was of course to be found among +Americans just returned. There were European diplomatists who +spoke English perfectly; there were travellers who spoke no +English at all; and as usual each guest sought to practise +himself in the tongue he knew least. There was the usual +eagerness among the fashionable vulgar to make acquaintance +with anything that combined broken English and a title; and two +minutes after a Russian prince had seated himself comfortably +on a sofa beside Kate, he was vehemently tapped on the shoulder +by Mrs. Courtenay Brash with the endearing summons: "Why! +Prince, I didn't see as you was here. Do you set comfortable +where you be? Come over to this window, and tell all you know!" + +The prince might have felt that his summons was abrupt, but +knew not that it was ungrammatical, and so was led away in +triumph. He had been but a month or two in this country, and so +spoke our language no more correctly than Mrs. Brash, but only +with more grace. There was no great harm in Mrs. Brash; like +most loquacious people, she was kind-hearted, with a tendency +to corpulence and good works. She was also afflicted with a +high color, and a chronic eruption of diamonds. Her husband +had an eye for them, having begun life as a jeweller's +apprentice, and having developed sufficient sharpness of vision +in other directions to become a millionnaire, and a +Congressman, and to let his wife do as she pleased. + +What goes forth from the lips may vary in dialect, but wine and +oysters speak the universal language. The supper-table brought +our party together, and they compared notes. + +"Parties are very confusing," philosophized Hope,--"especially +when waiters and partners dress so much alike. Just now I saw +an ill-looking man elbowing his way up to Mrs. Meredith, and I +thought he was bringing her something on a plate. Instead of +that, it was his hand he held out, and she put hers into it; +and I was told that he was one of the leaders of society. There +are very few gentlemen here whom I could positively tell from +the waiters by their faces, and yet Harry says the fast set are +not here." + +"Talk of the angels!" said Philip. "There come the +Inglesides." + +Through the door of the supper-room they saw entering the +drawing-room one of those pretty, fair-haired women who grow +older up to twenty-five and then remain unchanged till sixty. +She was dressed in the loveliest pale blue silk, very low in +the neck, and she seemed to smile on all with her white teeth +and her white shoulders. This was Mrs. Ingleside. With her +came her daughter Blanche, a pretty blonde, whose bearing +seemed at first as innocent and pastoral as her name. Her dress +was of spotless white, what there was of it; and her skin was +so snowy, you could hardly tell where the dress ended. Her +complexion was exquisite, her eyes of the softest blue; at +twenty-three she did not look more than seventeen; and yet +there was such a contrast between these virginal traits, and +the worn, faithless, hopeless expression, that she looked, as +Philip said, like a depraved lamb. Does it show the higher +nature of woman, that, while "fast young men" are content to +look like well-dressed stable boys and billiard-markers, one +may observe that girls of the corresponding type are apt to +addict themselves to white and rosebuds, and pose themselves +for falling angels? + +Mrs. Ingleside was a stray widow (from New Orleans via Paris), +into whose antecedents it was best not to inquire too closely. +After many ups and downs, she was at present up. It was +difficult to state with certainty what bad deed she had ever +done, or what good deed. She simply lived by her wits, and +perhaps by some want of that article in her male friends. Her +house was a sort of gentlemanly clubhouse, where the presence +of two women offered a shade less restraint than if there had +been men alone. She was amiable and unscrupulous, went +regularly to church, and needed only money to be the most +respectable and fastidious of women. It was always rather a +mystery who paid for her charming little dinners; indeed, +several things in her demeanor were questionable, but as the +questions were never answered, no harm was done, and everybody +invited her because everybody else did. Had she committed some +graceful forgery tomorrow, or some mild murder the next day, +nobody would have been surprised, and all her intimate friends +would have said it was what they had always expected. + +Meantime the entertainment went on. + +"I shall not have scalloped oysters in heaven," lamented Kate, +as she finished with healthy appetite her first instalment. + +"Are you sure you shall not?" said the sympathetic Hope, who +would have eagerly followed Kate into Paradise with a supply of +whatever she liked best. + +"I suppose you will, darling," responded Kate, "but what will +you care? It seems hard that those who are bad enough to long +for them should not be good enough to earn them." + +At this moment Blanche Ingleside and her train swept into the +supper-room; the girls cleared a passage, their attendant +youths collected chairs. Blanche tilted hers slightly against a +wall, professed utter exhaustion, and demanded a fresh bottle +of champagne in a voice that showed no signs of weakness. +Presently a sheepish youth drew near the noisy circle. + +"Here comes that Talbot van Alsted," said Blanche, bursting at +last into a loud whisper. "What a goose he is, to be sure! +Dear baby, it promised its mother it wouldn't drink wine for +two months. Let's all drink with him. Talbot, my boy, just in +time! Fill your glass. Stosst an!" + +And Blanche and her attendant spirits in white muslin thronged +around the weak boy, saw him charged with the three glasses +that were all his head could stand, and sent him reeling home +to his mother. Then they looked round for fresh worlds to +conquer. + +"There are the Maxwells!" said Miss Ingleside, without lowering +her voice. "Who is that party in the high-necked dress? Is she +the schoolmistress? Why do they have such people here? Society +is getting so common, there is no bearing it. That Emily who is +with her is too good for that slow set. She's the school-girl +we heard of at Nice, or somewhere; she wanted to elope with +somebody, and Phil Malbone stopped her, worse luck. She will be +for eloping with us, before long." + +Emilia colored scarlet, and gave a furtive glance at Hope, half +of shame, half of triumph. Hope looked at Blanche with +surprise, made a movement forward, but was restrained by the +crowd, while the noisy damsel broke out in a different +direction. + +"How fiendishly hot it is here, though! Jones junior, put your +elbow through that window! This champagne is boiling. What a +tiresome time we shall have to-morrow, when the Frenchmen are +gone! Ah, Count, there you are at last! Ready for the German? +Come for me? Just primed and up to anything, and so I tell +you!" + +But as Count Posen, kissing his hand to her, squeezed his way +through the crowd with Hal, to be presented to Hope, there came +over Blanche's young face such a mingled look of hatred and +weariness and chagrin, that even her unobserving friends saw +it, and asked with tender commiseration what was up. + +The dancing recommenced. There was the usual array of +partners, distributed by mysterious discrepancies, like +soldiers' uniforms, so that all the tall drew short, and all +the short had tall. There were the timid couples, who danced +with trembling knees and eyes cast over their shoulders; the +feeble couples, who meandered aimlessly and got tangled in +corners; the rash couples, who tore breathlessly through the +rooms and brought up at last against the large white waistcoat +of the violon-cello. There was the professional lady-killer, +too supreme and indolent to dance, but sitting amid an admiring +bevy of fair women, where he reared his head of raven curls, +and pulled ceaselessly his black mustache. And there were +certain young girls who, having astonished the community for a +month by the lowness of their dresses, now brought to bear +their only remaining art, and struck everybody dumb by +appearing clothed. All these came and went and came again, and +had their day or their night, and danced until the robust Hope +went home exhausted and left her more fragile cousins to dance +on till morning. Indeed, it was no easy thing for them to tear +themselves away; Kate was always in demand; Philip knew +everybody, and had that latest aroma of Paris which the soul of +fashion covets; Harry had the tried endurance which befits +brothers and lovers at balls; while Emilia's foreign court held +out till morning, and one handsome young midshipman, in +special, kept revolving back to her after each long orbit of +separation, like a gold-laced comet. + +The young people lingered extravagantly late at that ball, for +the corvette was to sail next day, and the girls were willing +to make the most of it. As they came to the outer door, the +dawn was inexpressibly beautiful,--deep rose melting into +saffron, beneath a tremulous morning star. With a sudden +impulse, they agreed to walk home, the fresh air seemed so +delicious. Philip and Emilia went first, outstripping the +others. + +Passing the Jewish cemetery, Kate and Harry paused a moment. +The sky was almost cloudless, the air was full of a thousand +scents and songs, the rose-tints in the sky were deepening, the +star paling, while a few vague clouds went wandering upward, +and dreamed themselves away. + +"There is a grave in that cemetery," said Kate, gently, "where +lovers should always be sitting. It lies behind that tall +monument; I cannot see it for the blossoming boughs. There were +two young cousins who loved each other from childhood, but were +separated, because Jews do not allow such unions. Neither of +them was ever married; and they lived to be very old, the one +in New Orleans, the other at the North. In their last +illnesses each dreamed of walking in the fields with the other, +as in their early days; and the telegraphic despatches that +told their deaths crossed each other on the way. That is his +monument, and her grave was made behind it; there was no room +for a stone." + +Kate moved a step or two, that she might see the graves. The +branches opened clear. What living lovers had met there, at +this strange hour, above the dust of lovers dead? She saw with +amazement, and walked on quickly that Harry might not also see. + +It was Emilia who sat beside the grave, her dark hair drooping +and dishevelled, her carnation cheek still brilliant after the +night's excitement; and he who sat at her feet, grasping her +hand in both of his, while his lips poured out passionate words +to which she eagerly listened, was Philip Malbone. + +Here, upon the soil of a new nation, lay a spot whose +associations seemed already as old as time could make +them,--the last footprint of a tribe now vanished from this +island forever,--the resting-place of a race whose very +funerals would soon be no more. Each April the robins built +their nests around these crumbling stones, each May they reared +their broods, each June the clover blossomed, each July the +wild strawberries grew cool and red; all around was youth and +life and ecstasy, and yet the stones bore inscriptions in an +unknown language, and the very graves seemed dead. + +And lovelier than all the youth of Nature, little Emilia sat +there in the early light, her girlish existence gliding into +that drama of passion which is older than the buried nations, +older than time, than death, than all things save life and God. + + + +VIII. + +TALKING IT OVER. + +AUNT JANE was eager to hear about the ball, and called +everybody into her breakfast-parlor the next morning. She was +still hesitating about her bill of fare. + +"I wish somebody would invent a new animal," she burst forth. +"How those sheep bleated last night! I know it was an +expression of shame for providing such tiresome food." + +"You must not be so carnally minded, dear," said Kate. "You +must be very good and grateful, and not care for your +breakfast. Somebody says that mutton chops with wit are a great +deal better than turtle without." + +"A very foolish somebody," pronounced Aunt Jane. "I have had a +great deal of wit in my life, and very little turtle. Dear +child, do not excite me with impossible suggestions. There are +dropped eggs, I might have those. They look so beautifully, if +it only were not necessary to eat them. Yes, I will certainly +have dropped eggs. I think Ruth could drop them; she drops +everything else." + +"Poor little Ruth!" said Kate. "Not yet grown up!" + +"She will never grow up," said Aunt Jane, "but she thinks she +is a woman; she even thinks she has a lover. O that in early +life I had provided myself with a pair of twins from some +asylum; then I should have had some one to wait on me." + +"Perhaps they would have been married too," said Kate. + +"They should never have been married," retorted Aunt Jane. +"They should have signed a paper at five years old to do no +such thing. Yesterday I told a lady that I was enraged that a +servant should presume to have a heart, and the woman took it +seriously and began to argue with me. To think of living in a +town where one person could be so idiotic! Such a town ought to +be extinguished from the universe." + +"Auntie!" said Kate, sternly, "you must grow more charitable." + +"Must I?" said Aunt Jane; "it will not be at all becoming. I +have thought about it; often have I weighed it in my mind +whether to be monotonously lovely; but I have always thrust it +away. It must make life so tedious. It is too late for me to +change,--at least, anything about me but my countenance, and +that changes the wrong way. Yet I feel so young and fresh; I +look in my glass every morning to see if I have not a new face, +but it never comes. I am not what is called well-favored. In +fact, I am not favored at all. Tell me about the party." + +"What shall I tell?" said Kate. + +"Tell me what people were there," said Aunt Jane, "and how they +were dressed; who were the happiest and who the most miserable. +I think I would rather hear about the most miserable,--at +least, till I have my breakfast." + +"The most miserable person I saw," said Kate, "was Mrs. +Meredith. It was very amusing to hear her and Hope talk at +cross-purposes. You know her daughter Helen is in Paris, and +the mother seemed very sad about her. A lady was asking if +something or other were true; 'Too true,' said Mrs. Meredith; +'with every opportunity she has had no real success. It was not +the poor child's fault. She was properly presented; but as yet +she has had no success at all.' + +"Hope looked up, full of sympathy. She thought Helen must be +some disappointed school-teacher, and felt an interest in her +immediately. 'Will there not be another examination?' she +asked. 'What an odd phrase,' said Mrs. Meredith, looking rather +disdainfully at Hope. 'No, I suppose we must give it up, if +that is what you mean. The only remaining chance is in the +skating. I had particular attention paid to Helen's skating on +that very account. How happy shall I be, if my foresight is +rewarded!' + +"Hope thought this meant physical education, to be sure, and +fancied that handsome Helen Meredith opening a school for +calisthenics in Paris! Luckily she did not say anything. Then +the other lady said, solemnly, 'My dear Mrs. Meredith, it is +too true. No one can tell how things will turn out in society. +How often do we see girls who were not looked at in America, +and yet have a great success in Paris; then other girls go out +who were here very much admired, and they have no success at +all.' + +"Hope understood it all then, but she took it very calmly. I +was so indignant, I could hardly help speaking. I wanted to +say that it was outrageous. The idea of American mothers +training their children for exhibition before what everybody +calls the most corrupt court in Europe! Then if they can catch +the eye of the Emperor or the Empress by their faces or their +paces, that is called success!" + +"Good Americans when they die go to Paris," said Philip, "so +says the oracle. Naughty Americans try it prematurely, and go +while they are alive. Then Paris casts them out, and when they +come back, their French disrepute is their stock in trade." + +"I think," said the cheerful Hope, "that it is not quite so +bad." Hope always thought things not so bad. She went on. "I +was very dull not to know what Mrs. Meredith was talking about. +Helen Meredith is a warm-hearted, generous girl, and will not +go far wrong, though her mother is not as wise as she is +well-bred. But Kate forgets that the few hundred people one +sees here or at Paris do not represent the nation, after all." + +"The most influential part of it," said Emilia. + +"Are you sure, dear?" said her sister. "I do not think they +influence it half so much as a great many people who are too +busy to go to either place. I always remember those hundred +girls at the Normal School, and that they were not at all like +Mrs. Meredith, nor would they care to be like her, any more +than she would wish to be like them." + +"They have not had the same advantages," said Emilia. + +"Nor the same disadvantages," said Hope. "Some of them are not +so well bred, and none of them speak French so well, for she +speaks exquisitely. But in all that belongs to real training of +the mind, they seem to me superior, and that is why I think +they will have more influence." + +"None of them are rich, though, I suppose," said Emilia, "nor +of very nice families, or they would not be teachers. So they +will not be so prominent in society." + +"But they may yet become very prominent in society," said +Hope,--"they or their pupils or their children. At any rate, it +is as certain that the noblest lives will have most influence +in the end, as that two and two make four." + +"Is that certain?" said Philip. "Perhaps there are worlds +where two and two do not make just that desirable amount." + +"I trust there are," said Aunt Jane. "Perhaps I was intended +to be born in one of them, and that is why my housekeeping +accounts never add up." + +Here hope was called away, and Emilia saucily murmured, "Sour +grapes!" + +"Not a bit of it!" cried Kate, indignantly. "Hope might have +anything in society she wishes, if she would only give up some +of her own plans, and let me choose her dresses, and her rich +uncles pay for them. Count Posen told me, only yesterday, that +there was not a girl in Oldport with such an air as hers." + +"Not Kate herself?" said Emilia, slyly. + +"I?" said Kate. "What am I? A silly chit of a thing, with +about a dozen ideas in my head, nearly every one of which was +planted there by Hope. I like the nonsense of the world very +well as it is, and without her I should have cared for nothing +else. Count Posen asked me the other day, which country +produced on the whole the most womanly women, France or +America. He is one of the few foreigners who expect a rational +answer. So I told him that I knew very little of Frenchwomen +personally, but that I had read French novels ever since I was +born, and there was not a woman worthy to be compared with Hope +in any of them, except Consuelo, and even she told lies." + +"Do not begin upon Hope," said Aunt Jane. "It is the only +subject on which Kate can be tedious. Tell me about the +dresses. Were people over-dressed or under-dressed?" + +"Under-dressed," said Phil. "Miss Ingleside had a half-inch +strip of muslin over her shoulder." + +Here Philip followed Hope out of the room, and Emilia presently +followed him. + +"Tell on!" said Aunt Jane. "How did Philip enjoy himself?" + +"He is easily amused, you know," said Kate. "He likes to +observe people, and to shoot folly as it flies." + +"It does not fly," retorted the elder lady. "I wish it did. +You can shoot it sitting, at least where Philip is." + +"Auntie," said Kate, "tell me truly your objection to Philip. +I think you did not like his parents. Had he not a good +mother?" + +"She was good," said Aunt Jane, reluctantly, "but it was that +kind of goodness which is quite offensive." + +"And did you know his father well?" + +"Know him!" exclaimed Aunt Jane. "I should think I did. I have +sat up all night to hate him." + +"That was very wrong," said Kate, decisively. "You do not mean +that. You only mean that you did not admire him very much." + +"I never admired a dozen people in my life, Kate. I once made +a list of them. There were six women, three men, and a +Newfoundland dog." + +"What happened?" said Kate. "The Is-raelites died after +Pharaoh, or somebody, numbered them. Did anything happen to +yours?" + +"It was worse with mine," said Aunt Jane. "I grew tired of +some and others I forgot, till at last there was nobody left +but the dog, and he died." + +"Was Philip's father one of them?" + +"No." + +"Tell me about him," said Kate, firmly. + +"Ruth," said the elder lady, as her young handmaiden passed the +door with her wonted demureness, "come here; no, get me a glass +of water. Kate! I shall die of that girl. She does some +idiotic thing, and then she looks in here with that contented, +beaming look. There is an air of baseless happiness about her +that drives me nearly frantic." + +"Never mind about that," persisted Kate. "Tell me about +Philip's father. What was the matter with him?" + +"My dear," Aunt Jane at last answered,--with that fearful +moderation to which she usually resorted when even her stock of +superlatives was exhausted,--"he belonged to a family for whom +truth possessed even less than the usual attractions." + +This neat epitaph implied the erection of a final tombstone +over the whole race, and Kate asked no more. + +Meantime Malbone sat at the western door with Harry, and was +running on with one of his tirades, half jest, half earnest, +against American society. + +"In America," he said, "everything which does not tend to money +is thought to be wasted, as our Quaker neighbor thinks the +children's croquet-ground wasted, because it is not a potato +field." + +"Not just!" cried Harry. "Nowhere is there more respect for +those who give their lives to intellectual pursuits." + +"What are intellectual pursuits?" said Philip. "Editing daily +newspapers? Teaching arithmetic to children? I see no others +flourishing hereabouts." + +"Science and literature," answered Harry. + +"Who cares for literature in America," said Philip, "after a +man rises three inches above the newspaper level? Nobody reads +Thoreau; only an insignificant fraction read Emerson, or even +Hawthorne. The majority of people have hardly even heard their +names. What inducement has a writer? Nobody has any weight in +America who is not in Congress, and nobody gets into Congress +without the necessity of bribing or button-holing men whom he +despises." + +"But you do not care for public life?" said Harry. + +"No," said Malbone, "therefore this does not trouble me, but it +troubles you. I am content. My digestion is good. I can +always amuse myself. Why are you not satisfied?" + +"Because you are not," said Harry. "You are dissatisfied with +men, and so you care chiefly to amuse yourself with women and +children." + +"I dare say," said Malbone, carelessly. "They are usually less +ungraceful and talk better grammar." + +"But American life does not mean grace nor grammar. We are all +living for the future. Rough work now, and the graces by and +by." + +"That is what we Americans always say," retorted Philip. +"Everything is in the future. What guaranty have we for that +future? I see none. We make no progress towards the higher +arts, except in greater quantities of mediocrity. We sell +larger editions of poor books. Our artists fill larger frames +and travel farther for materials; but a ten-inch canvas would +tell all they have to say." + +"The wrong point of view," said Hal. "If you begin with high +art, you begin at the wrong end. The first essential for any +nation is to put the mass of the people above the reach of +want. We are all usefully employed, if we contribute to that." + +"So is the cook usefully employed while preparing dinner," said +Philip. "Nevertheless, I do not wish to live in the kitchen." + +"Yet you always admire your own country," said Harry, "so long +as you are in Europe." + +"No doubt," said Philip. "I do not object to the kitchen at +that distance. And to tell the truth, America looks well from +Europe. No culture, no art seems so noble as this far-off +spectacle of a self-governing people. The enthusiasm lasts till +one's return. Then there seems nothing here but to work hard +and keep out of mischief." + +"That is something," said Harry. + +"A good deal in America," said Phil. "We talk about the +immorality of older countries. Did you ever notice that no +class of men are so apt to take to drinking as highly +cultivated Americans? It is a very demoralizing position, when +one's tastes outgrow one's surroundings. Positively, I think a +man is more excusable for coveting his neighbor's wife in +America than in Europe, because there is so little else to +covet." + +"Malbone!" said Hal, "what has got into you? Do you know what +things you are saying?" + +"Perfectly," was the unconcerned reply. "I am not arguing; I +am only testifying. I know that in Paris, for instance, I +myself have no temptations. Art and history are so delightful, +I absolutely do not care for the society even of women; but +here, where there is nothing to do, one must have some +stimulus, and for me, who hate drinking, they are, at least, a +more refined excitement." + +"More dangerous," said Hal. "Infinitely more dangerous, in the +morbid way in which you look at life. What have these sickly +fancies to do with the career that opens to every brave man in +a great nation?" + +"They have everything to do with it, and there are many for +whom there is no career. As the nation develops, it must +produce men of high culture. Now there is no place for them +except as bookkeepers or pedagogues or newspaper reporters. +Meantime the incessant unintellectual activity is only a +sublime bore to those who stand aside." + +"Then why stand aside?" persisted the downright Harry. + +"I have no place in it but a lounging-place," said Malbone. "I +do not wish to chop blocks with a razor. I envy those men, +born mere Americans, with no ambition in life but to 'swing a +railroad' as they say at the West. Every morning I hope to +wake up like them in the fear of God and the love of money." + +"You may as well stop," said Harry, coloring a little. +"Malbone, you used to be my ideal man in my boyhood, but"-- + +"I am glad we have got beyond that," interrupted the other, +cheerily, "I am only an idler in the land. Meanwhile, I have +my little interests,--read, write, sketch--" + +"Flirt?" put in Hal, with growing displeasure. + +"Not now," said Phil, patting his shoulder, with imperturbable +good-nature. "Our beloved has cured me of that. He who has won +the pearl dives no more." + +"Do not let us speak of Hope," said Harry. "Everything that +you have been asserting Hope's daily life disproves." + +"That may be," answered Malbone, heartily. "But, Hal, I never +flirted; I always despised it. It was always a grande passion +with me, or what I took for such. I loved to be loved, I +suppose; and there was always something new and fascinating to +be explored in a human heart, that is, a woman's." + +"Some new temple to profane?" asked Hal severely. + +"Never!" said Philip. "I never profaned it. If I deceived, I +shared the deception, at least for a time; and, as for +sensuality, I had none in me." + +"Did you have nothing worse? Rousseau ends where Tom Jones +begins." + +"My temperament saved me," said Philip. "A woman is not a +woman to me, without personal refinement." + +"Just what Rousseau said," replied Harry. + +"I acted upon it," answered Malbone. "No one dislikes Blanche +Ingleside and her demi monde more than I." + +"You ought not," was the retort. "You help to bring other +girls to her level." + +"Whom?" said Malbone, startled. + +"Emilia." + +"Emilia?" repeated the other, coloring crimson. "I, who have +warned her against Blanche's society." + +"And have left her no other resource," said Harry, coloring +still more. "Malbone, you have gained (unconsciously of course) +too much power over that girl, and the only effect of it is, to +keep her in perpetual excitement. So she seeks Blanche, as she +would any other strong stimulant. Hope does not seem to have +discovered this, but Kate has, and I have." + +Hope came in, and Harry went out. The next day he came to +Philip and apologized most warmly for his unjust and +inconsiderate words. Malbone, always generous, bade him think +no more about it, and Harry for that day reverted strongly to +his first faith. "So noble, so high-toned," he said to Kate. +Indeed, a man never appears more magnanimous than in forgiving +a friend who has told him the truth. + + + +IX. + +DANGEROUS WAYS. + +IT was true enough what Harry had said. Philip Malbone's was +that perilous Rousseau-like temperament, neither sincere enough +for safety, nor false enough to alarm; the winning tenderness +that thrills and softens at the mere neighborhood of a woman, +and fascinates by its reality those whom no hypocrisy can +deceive. It was a nature half amiable, half voluptuous, that +disarmed others, seeming itself unarmed. He was never wholly +ennobled by passion, for it never touched him deeply enough; +and, on the other hand, he was not hardened by the habitual +attitude of passion, for he was never really insincere. +Sometimes it seemed as if nothing stood between him and utter +profligacy but a little indolence, a little kindness, and a +good deal of caution. + +"There seems no such thing as serious repentance in me," he had +once said to Kate, two years before, when she had upbraided him +with some desperate flirtation which had looked as if he would +carry it as far as gentlemen did under King Charles II. "How +does remorse begin?" + +"Where you are beginning," said Kate. + +"I do not perceive that," he answered. "My conscience seems, +after all, to be only a form of good-nature. I like to be +stirred by emotion, I suppose, and I like to study character. +But I can always stop when it is evident that I shall cause +pain to somebody. Is there any other motive?" + +"In other words," said she, "you apply the match, and then turn +your back on the burning house." + +Philip colored. "How unjust you are! Of course, we all like +to play with fire, but I always put it out before it can +spread. Do you think I have no feeling?" + +Kate stopped there, I suppose. Even she always stopped soon, +if she undertook to interfere with Malbone. This charming +Alcibiades always convinced them, after the wrestling was over, +that he had not been thrown. + +The only exception to this was in the case of Aunt Jane. If +she had anything in common with Philip,--and there was a +certain element of ingenuous unconsciousness in which they were +not so far unlike,--it only placed them in the more complete +antagonism. Perhaps if two beings were in absolutely no respect +alike, they never could meet even for purposes of hostility; +there must be some common ground from which the aversion may +proceed. Moreover, in this case Aunt Jane utterly disbelieved +in Malbone because she had reason to disbelieve in his father, +and the better she knew the son the more she disliked the +father retrospectively. + +Philip was apt to be very heedless of such aversions,--indeed, +he had few to heed,--but it was apparent that Aunt Jane was the +only person with whom he was not quite at ease. Still, the +solicitude did not trouble him very much, for he instinctively +knew that it was not his particular actions which vexed her, so +much as his very temperament and atmosphere,--things not to be +changed. So he usually went his way; and if he sometimes felt +one of her sharp retorts, could laugh it off that day and sleep +it off before the next morning. + +For you may be sure that Philip was very little troubled by +inconvenient memories. He never had to affect forgetfulness of +anything. The past slid from him so easily, he forgot even to +try to forget. He liked to quote from Emerson, "What have I to +do with repentance?" "What have my yesterday's errors," he +would say, "to do with the life of to-day?" + +"Everything," interrupted Aunt Jane, "for you will repeat them +to-day, if you can." + +"Not at all," persisted he, accepting as conversation what she +meant as a stab. "I may, indeed, commit greater errors,"--here +she grimly nodded, as if she had no doubt of it,--"but never +just the same. To-day must take thought for itself." + +"I wish it would," she said, gently, and then went on with her +own thoughts while he was silent. Presently she broke out +again in her impulsive way. + +"Depend upon it," she said, "there is very little direct +retribution in this world." + +Phil looked up, quite pleased at her indorsing one of his +favorite views. She looked, as she always did, indignant at +having said anything to please him. + +"Yes," said she, "it is the indirect retribution that crushes. +I've seen enough of that, God knows. Kate, give me my +thimble." + +Malbone had that smooth elasticity of surface which made even +Aunt Jane's strong fingers slip from him as they might from a +fish, or from the soft, gelatinous stem of the water-target. +Even in this case he only laughed good-naturedly, and went out, +whistling like a mocking-bird, to call the children round him. + +Toward the more wayward and impulsive Emilia the good lady was +far more merciful. With all Aunt Jane's formidable keenness, +she was a little apt to be disarmed by youth and beauty, and +had no very stern retributions except for those past middle +age. Emilia especially charmed her while she repelled. There +was no getting beyond a certain point with this strange girl, +any more than with Philip; but her depths tantalized, while his +apparent shallows were only vexatious. Emilia was usually +sweet, winning, cordial, and seemed ready to glide into one's +heart as softly as she glided into the room; she liked to +please, and found it very easy. Yet she left the impression +that this smooth and delicate loveliness went but an inch +beyond the surface, like the soft, thin foam that enamels +yonder tract of ocean, belongs to it, is a part of it, yet is, +after all, but a bequest of tempests, and covers only a dark +abyss of crossing currents and desolate tangles of rootless +kelp. Everybody was drawn to her, yet not a soul took any +comfort in her. Her very voice had in it a despairing +sweetness, that seemed far in advance of her actual history; it +was an anticipated miserere, a perpetual dirge, where nothing +had yet gone down. So Aunt Jane, who was wont to be perfectly +decisive in her treatment of every human being, was fluctuating +and inconsistent with Emilia. She could not help being +fascinated by the motherless child, and yet scorned herself for +even the doubting love she gave. + +"Only think, auntie," said Kate, "how you kissed Emilia, +yesterday!" + +"Of course I did," she remorsefully owned. "I have kissed her +a great many times too often. I never will kiss her again. +There is nothing but sorrow to be found in loving her, and her +heart is no larger than her feet. Today she was not even +pretty! If it were not for her voice, I think I should never +wish to see her again." + +But when that soft, pleading voice came once more, and Emilia +asked perhaps for luncheon, in tones fit for Ophelia, Aunt Jane +instantly yielded. One might as well have tried to enforce +indignation against the Babes in the Wood. + +This perpetual mute appeal was further strengthened by a +peculiar physical habit in Emilia, which first alarmed the +household, but soon ceased to inspire terror. She fainted very +easily, and had attacks at long intervals akin to faintness, +and lasting for several hours. The physicians pronounced them +cataleptic in their nature, saying that they brought no danger, +and that she would certainly outgrow them. They were sometimes +produced by fatigue, sometimes by excitement, but they brought +no agitation with them, nor any development of abnormal powers. +They simply wrapped her in a profound repose, from which no +effort could rouse her, till the trance passed by. Her eyes +gradually closed, her voice died away, and all movement ceased, +save that her eyelids sometimes trembled without opening, and +sweet evanescent expressions chased each other across her +face,--the shadows of thoughts unseen. For a time she seemed to +distinguish the touch of different persons by preference or +pain; but soon even this sign of recognition vanished, and the +household could only wait and watch, while she sank into deeper +and yet deeper repose. + +There was something inexpressibly sweet, appealing, and +touching in this impenetrable slumber, when it was at its +deepest. She looked so young, so delicate, so lovely; it was as +if she had entered into a shrine, and some sacred curtain had +been dropped to shield her from all the cares and perplexities +of life. She lived, she breathed, and yet all the storms of +life could but beat against her powerless, as the waves beat on +the shore. Safe in this beautiful semblance of death,--her +pulse a little accelerated, her rich color only softened, her +eyelids drooping, her exquisite mouth curved into the sweetness +it had lacked in waking,--she lay unconscious and supreme, the +temporary monarch of the household, entranced upon her throne. +A few hours having passed, she suddenly waked, and was a +self-willed, passionate girl once more. When she spoke, it was +with a voice wholly natural; she had no recollection of what +had happened, and no curiosity to learn. + + + +X. + +REMONSTRANCES. + +IT had been a lovely summer day, with a tinge of autumnal +coolness toward nightfall, ending in what Aunt Jane called a +"quince-jelly sunset." Kate and Emilia sat upon the Blue Rocks, +earnestly talking. + +"Promise, Emilia!" said Kate. + +Emilia said nothing. + +"Remember," continued Kate, "he is Hope's betrothed. Promise, +promise, promise!" + +Emilia looked into Kate's face and saw it flushed with a +generous eagerness, that called forth an answering look in her. +She tried to speak, and the words died into silence. There was +a pause, while each watched the other. + +When one soul is grappling with another for life, such silence +may last an instant too long; and Kate soon felt her grasp +slipping. Momentarily the spell relaxed. Other thoughts +swelled up, and Emilia's eyes began to wander; delicious +memories stole in, of walks through blossoming paths with +Malbone,--of lingering steps, half-stifled words and sentences +left unfinished;--then, alas! of passionate caresses,--other +blossoming paths that only showed the way to sin, but had never +quite led her there, she fancied. There was so much to tell, +more than could ever be explained or justified. Moment by +moment, farther and farther strayed the wandering thoughts, and +when the poor child looked in Kate's face again, the mist +between them seemed to have grown wide and dense, as if neither +eyes nor words nor hands could ever meet again. When she spoke +it was to say something evasive and unimportant, and her voice +was as one from the grave. + +In truth, Philip had given Emilia his heart to play with at +Neuchatel, that he might beguile her from an attachment they +had all regretted. The device succeeded. The toy once in her +hand, the passionate girl had kept it, had clung to him with +all her might; he could not shake her off. Nor was this the +worst, for to his dismay he found himself responding to her +love with a self-abandonment of ardor for which all former +loves had been but a cool preparation. He had not intended +this; it seemed hardly his fault: his intentions had been +good, or at least not bad. This piquant and wonderful fruit of +nature, this girlish soul, he had merely touched it and it was +his. Its mere fragrance was intoxicating. Good God! what +should he do with it? + +No clear answer coming, he had drifted on with that terrible +facility for which years of self-indulged emotion had prepared +him. Each step, while it was intended to be the last, only made +some other last step needful. + +He had begun wrong, for he had concealed his engagement, +fancying that he could secure a stronger influence over this +young girl without the knowledge. He had come to her simply as +a friend of her Transatlantic kindred; and she, who was always +rather indifferent to them, asked no questions, nor made the +discovery till too late. Then, indeed, she had burst upon him +with an impetuous despair that had alarmed him. He feared, not +that she would do herself any violence, for she had a childish +dread of death, but that she would show some desperate +animosity toward Hope, whenever they should meet. After a long +struggle, he had touched, not her sense of justice, for she had +none, but her love for him; he had aroused her tenderness and +her pride. + +Without his actual assurance, she yet believed that he would +release himself in some way from his betrothal, and love only +her. + +Malbone had fortunately great control over Emilia when near +her, and could thus keep the sight of this stormy passion from +the pure and unconscious Hope. But a new distress opened +before him, from the time when he again touched Hope's hand. +The close intercourse of the voyage had given him for the time +almost a surfeit of the hot-house atmosphere of Emilia's love. +The first contact of Hope's cool, smooth fingers, the soft +light of her clear eyes, the breezy grace of her motions, the +rose-odors that clung around her, brought back all his early +passion. Apart from this voluptuousness of the heart into which +he had fallen, Malbone's was a simple and unspoiled nature; he +had no vices, and had always won popularity too easily to be +obliged to stoop for it; so all that was noblest in him paid +allegiance to Hope. From the moment they again met, his +wayward heart reverted to her. He had been in a dream, he said +to himself; he would conquer it and be only hers; he would go +away with her into the forests and green fields she loved, or +he would share in the life of usefulness for which she yearned. +But then, what was he to do with this little waif from the +heart's tropics,--once tampered with, in an hour of mad +dalliance, and now adhering in-separably to his life? +Supposing him ready to separate from her, could she be detached +from him? + +Kate's anxieties, when she at last hinted them to Malbone, only +sent him further into revery. "How is it," he asked himself, +"that when I only sought to love and be loved, I have thus +entangled myself in the fate of others? How is one's heart to +be governed? Is there any such governing? Mlle. Clairon +complained that, so soon as she became seriously attached to +any one, she was sure to meet somebody else whom she liked +better. Have human hearts," he said, "or at least, has my +heart, no more stability than this?" + +It did not help the matter when Emilia went to stay awhile with +Mrs. Meredith. The event came about in this way. Hope and Kate +had been to a dinner-party, and were as usual reciting their +experiences to Aunt Jane. + +"Was it pleasant?" said that sympathetic lady. + +"It was one of those dreadfully dark dining-rooms," said Hope, +seating herself at the open window. + +"Why do they make them look so like tombs?" said Kate. + +"Because," said her aunt, "most Americans pass from them to the +tomb, after eating such indigestible things. There is a wish +for a gentle transition." + +"Aunt Jane," said Hope, "Mrs. Meredith asks to have a little +visit from Emilia. Do you think she had better go?" + +"Mrs. Meredith?" asked Aunt Jane. "Is that woman alive yet?" + +"Why, auntie!" said Kate. "We were talking about her only a +week ago." + +"Perhaps so," conceded Aunt Jane, reluctantly. "But it seems +to me she has great length of days!" + +"How very improperly you are talking, dear!" said Kate. "She +is not more than forty, and you are--" + +"Fifty-four," interrupted the other. + +"Then she has not seen nearly so many days as you." + +"But they are such long days! That is what I must have meant. +One of her days is as long as three of mine. She is so +tiresome!" + +"She does not tire you very often," said Kate. + +"She comes once a year," said Aunt Jane. "And then it is not +to see me. She comes out of respect to the memory of my +great-aunt, with whom Talleyrand fell in love, when he was in +America, before Mrs. Meredith was born. Yes, Emilia may as well +go." + +So Emilia went. To provide her with companionship, Mrs. +Meredith kindly had Blanche Ingleside to stay there also. +Blanche stayed at different houses a good deal. To do her +justice, she was very good company, when put upon her best +behavior, and beyond the reach of her demure mamma. She was +always in spirits, often good-natured, and kept everything in +lively motion, you may be sure. She found it not unpleasant, +in rich houses, to escape some of those little domestic +parsimonies which the world saw not in her own; and to secure +this felicity she could sometimes lay great restraints upon +herself, for as much as twenty-four hours. She seemed a little +out of place, certainly, amid the precise proprieties of Mrs. +Meredith's establishment. But Blanche and her mother still held +their place in society, and it was nothing to Mrs. Meredith who +came to her doors, but only from what other doors they came. + +She would have liked to see all "the best houses" connected by +secret galleries or underground passages, of which she and a +few others should hold the keys. A guest properly presented +could then go the rounds of all unerringly, leaving his card at +each, while improper acquaintances in vain howled for admission +at the outer wall. For the rest, her ideal of social happiness +was a series of perfectly ordered entertainments, at each of +which there should be precisely the same guests, the same +topics, the same supper, and the same ennui. + + + +XI. + +DESCENSUS AVERNI. + +MALBONE stood one morning on the pier behind the house. A two +days' fog was dispersing. The southwest breeze rippled the +deep blue water; sailboats, blue, red, and green, were darting +about like white-winged butterflies; sloops passed and +repassed, cutting the air with the white and slender points of +their gaff-topsails. The liberated sunbeams spread and +penetrated everywhere, and even came up to play (reflected from +the water) beneath the shadowy, overhanging counters of dark +vessels. Beyond, the atmosphere was still busy in rolling away +its vapors, brushing the last gray fringes from the low hills, +and leaving over them only the thinnest aerial veil. Farther +down the bay, the pale tower of the crumbling fort was now +shrouded, now revealed, then hung with floating lines of vapor +as with banners. + +Hope came down on the pier to Malbone, who was looking at the +boats. He saw with surprise that her calm brow was a little +clouded, her lips compressed, and her eyes full of tears. + +"Philip," she said, abruptly, "do you love me?" + +"Do you doubt it?" said he, smiling, a little uneasily. + +Fixing her eyes upon him, she said, more seriously: "There is a +more important question, Philip. Tell me truly, do you care +about Emilia?" + +He started at the words, and looked eagerly in her face for an +explanation. Her expression only showed the most anxious +solicitude. + +For one moment the wild impulse came up in his mind to put an +entire trust in this truthful woman, and tell her all. Then the +habit of concealment came back to him, the dull hopelessness of +a divided duty, and the impossibility of explanations. How +could he justify himself to her when he did not really know +himself? So he merely said, "Yes." + +"She is your sister," he added, in an explanatory tone, after a +pause; and despised himself for the subterfuge. It is amazing +how long a man may be false in action before he ceases to +shrink from being false in words. + +"Philip," said the unsuspecting Hope, "I knew that you cared +about her. I have seen you look at her with so much affection; +and then again I have seen you look cold and almost stern. She +notices it, I am sure she does, this changeableness. But this +is not why I ask the question. I think you must have seen +something else that I have been observing, and if you care +about her, even for my sake, it is enough." + +Here Philip started, and felt relieved. + +"You must be her friend," continued Hope, eagerly. "She has +changed her whole manner and habits very fast. Blanche +Ingleside and that set seem to have wholly controlled her, and +there is something reckless in all her ways. You are the only +person who can help her." + +"How?" + +"I do not know how," said Hope, almost impatiently. "You know +how. You have wonderful influence. You saved her before, and +will do it again. I put her in your hands." + +"What can I do for her?" asked he, with a strange mingling of +terror and delight. + +"Everything," said she. "If she has your society, she will not +care for those people, so much her inferiors in character. +Devote yourself to her for a time." + +"And leave you?" said Philip, hesitatingly. + +"Anything, anything," said she. "If I do not see you for a +month, I can bear it. Only promise me two things. First, that +you will go to her this very day. She dines with Mrs. +Ingleside." + +Philip agreed. + +"Then," said Hope, with saddened tones, "you must not say it +was I who sent you. Indeed you must not. That would spoil +all. Let her think that your own impulse leads you, and then +she will yield. I know Emilia enough for that." + +Malbone paused, half in ecstasy, half in dismay. Were all the +events of life combining to ruin or to save him? This young +girl, whom he so passionately loved, was she to be thrust back +into his arms, and was he to be told to clasp her and be +silent? And that by Hope, and in the name of duty? + +It seemed a strange position, even for him who was so eager for +fresh experiences and difficult combinations. At Hope's appeal +he was to risk Hope's peace forever; he was to make her sweet +sisterly affection its own executioner. In obedience to her +love he must revive Emilia's. The tender intercourse which he +had been trying to renounce as a crime must be rebaptized as a +duty. Was ever a man placed, he thought, in a position so +inextricable, so disastrous? What could he offer Emilia? How +could he explain to her his position? He could not even tell +her that it was at Hope's command he sought her. + +He who is summoned to rescue a drowning man, knowing that he +himself may go down with that inevitable clutch around his +neck, is placed in some such situation as Philip's. Yet Hope +had appealed to him so simply, had trusted him so nobly! +Suppose that, by any self-control, or wisdom, or unexpected aid +of Heaven, he could serve both her and Emilia, was it not his +duty? What if it should prove that he was right in loving them +both, and had only erred when he cursed himself for tampering +with their destinies? Perhaps, after all, the Divine Love had +been guiding him, and at some appointed signal all these +complications were to be cleared, and he and his various loves +were somehow to be ingeniously provided for, and all be made +happy ever after. + +He really grew quite tender and devout over these meditations. +Phil was not a conceited fellow, by any means, but he had been +so often told by women that their love for him had been a +blessing to their souls, that he quite acquiesced in being a +providential agent in that particular direction. Considered as +a form of self-sacrifice, it was not without its pleasures. + +Malbone drove that afternoon to Mrs. Ingleside's charming +abode, whither a few ladies were wont to resort, and a great +many gentlemen. He timed his call between the hours of dining +and driving, and made sure that Emilia had not yet emerged. +Two or three equipages beside his own were in waiting at the +gate, and gay voices resounded from the house. A servant +received him at the door, and taking him for a tardy guest, +ushered him at once into the dining-room. He was indifferent to +this, for he had been too often sought as a guest by Mrs. +Ingleside to stand on any ceremony beneath her roof. + +That fair hostess, in all the beauty of her shoulders, rose to +greet him, from a table where six or eight guests yet lingered +over flowers and wine. The gentlemen were smoking, and some of +the ladies were trying to look at ease with cigarettes. +Malbone knew the whole company, and greeted them with his +accustomed ease. He would not have been embarrassed if they +had been the Forty Thieves. Some of them, indeed, were not so +far removed from that fabled band, only it was their fortunes, +instead of themselves, that lay in the jars of oil. + +"You find us all here," said Mrs. Ingleside, sweetly. "We will +wait till the gentlemen finish their cigars, before driving." + +"Count me in, please," said Blanche, in her usual vein of +frankness. "Unless mamma wishes me to conclude my weed on the +Avenue. It would be fun, though. Fancy the dismay of the +Frenchmen and the dowagers!" + +"And old Lambert," said one of the other girls, delightedly. + +"Yes," said Blanche. "The elderly party from the rural +districts, who talks to us about the domestic virtues of the +wife of his youth." + +"Thinks women should cruise with a broom at their mast-heads, +like Admiral somebody in England," said another damsel, who was +rolling a cigarette for a midshipman. + +"You see we do not follow the English style," said the smooth +hostess to Philip. "Ladies retiring after dinner! After all, +it is a coarse practice. You agree with me, Mr. Malbone?" + +"Speak your mind," said Blanche, coolly. "Don't say yes if +you'd rather not. Because we find a thing a bore, you've no +call to say so." + +"I always say," continued the matron, "that the presence of +woman is needed as a refining influence." + +Malbone looked round for the refining influences. Blanche was +tilted back in her chair, with one foot on the rung of the +chair before her, resuming a loud-toned discourse with Count +Posen as to his projected work on American society. She was +trying to extort a promise that she should appear in its pages, +which, as we all remember, she did. One of her attendant nymphs +sat leaning her elbows on the table, "talking horse" with a +gentleman who had an undoubted professional claim to a +knowledge of that commodity. Another, having finished her +manufactured cigarette, was making the grinning midshipman open +his lips wider and wider to receive it. Mrs. Ingleside was +talking in her mincing way with a Jew broker, whose English was +as imperfect as his morals, and who needed nothing to make him +a millionnaire but a turn of bad luck for somebody else. Half +the men in the room would have felt quite ill at ease in any +circle of refined women, but there was not one who did not feel +perfectly unembarrassed around Mrs. Ingleside's board. + +"Upon my word," thought Malbone, "I never fancied the English +after-dinner practice, any more than did Napoleon. But if this +goes on, it is the gentlemen who ought to withdraw. Cannot +somebody lead the way to the drawing-room, and leave the ladies +to finish their cigars?" + +Till now he had hardly dared to look at Emilia. He saw with a +thrill of love that she was the one person in the room who +appeared out of place or ill at ease. She did not glance at +him, but held her cigarette in silence and refused to light it. +She had boasted to him once of having learned to smoke at +school. + +"What's the matter, Emmy?" suddenly exclaimed Blanche. "Are +you under a cloud, that you don't blow one?" + +"Blanche, Blanche," said her mother, in sweet reproof. "Mr. +Malbone, what shall I do with this wild girl? Such a light way +of talking! But I can assure you that she is really very fond +of the society of intellectual, superior men. I often tell her +that they are, after all, her most congenial associates. More +so than the young and giddy." + +"You'd better believe it," said the unabashed damsel. "Take +notice that whenever I go to a dinner-party I look round for a +clergyman to drink wine with." + +"Incorrigible!" said the caressing mother. "Mr. Malbone would +hardly imagine you had been bred in a Christian land." + +"I have, though," retorted Blanche. "My esteemed parent always +accustomed me to give up something during Lent,--champagne, or +the New York Herald, or something." + +The young men roared, and, had time and cosmetics made it +possible, Mrs. Ingleside would have blushed becomingly. After +all, the daughter was the better of the two. Her bluntness was +refreshing beside the mother's suavity; she had a certain +generosity, too, and in a case of real destitution would have +lent her best ear-rings to a friend. + +By this time Malbone had edged himself to Emilia's side. "Will +you drive with me?" he murmured in an undertone. + +She nodded slightly, abruptly, and he withdrew again. + +"It seems barbarous," said he aloud, "to break up the party. +But I must claim my promised drive with Miss Emilia." + +Blanche looked up, for once amazed, having heard a different +programme arranged. Count Posen looked up also. But he thought +he must have misunderstood Emilia's acceptance of his previous +offer to drive her; and as he prided himself even more on his +English than on his gallantry, he said no more. It was no great +matter. Young Jones's dog-cart was at the door, and always +opened eagerly its arms to anybody with a title. + + + +XII. + +A NEW ENGAGEMENT. + +TEN days later Philip came into Aunt Jane's parlor, looking +excited and gloomy, with a letter in his hand. He put it down +on her table without its envelope,--a thing that always +particularly annoyed her. A letter without its envelope, she +was wont to say, was like a man without a face, or a key +without a string,--something incomplete, preposterous. As +usual, however, he strode across her prejudices, and said, "I +have something to tell you. It is a fact." + +"Is it?" said Aunt Jane, curtly. "That is refreshing in these +times." + +"A good beginning," said Kate. "Go on. You have prepared us +for something incredible." + +"You will think it so," said Malbone. "Emilia is engaged to +Mr. John Lambert." And he went out of the room. + +"Good Heavens!" said Aunt Jane, taking off her spectacles. +"What a man! He is ugly enough to frighten the neighboring +crows. His face looks as if it had fallen together out of +chaos, and the features had come where it had pleased Fate. +There is a look of industrious nothingness about him, such as +busy dogs have. I know the whole family. They used to bake our +bread." + +"I suppose they are good and sensible," said Kate. + +"Like boiled potatoes, my dear," was the response,--"wholesome +but perfectly uninteresting." + +"Is he of that sort?" asked Kate. + +"No," said her aunt; "not uninteresting, but ungracious. But I +like an ungracious man better than one like Philip, who hangs +over young girls like a soft-hearted avalanche. This Lambert +will govern Emilia, which is what she needs." + +"She will never love him," said Kate, "which is the one thing +she needs. There is nothing that could not be done with Emilia +by any person with whom she was in love; and nothing can ever +be done with her by anybody else. No good will ever come of +this, and I hope she will never marry him." + +With this unusual burst, Kate retreated to Hope. Hope took the +news more patiently than any one, but with deep solicitude. A +worldly marriage seemed the natural result of the Ingleside +influence, but it had not occurred to anybody that it would +come so soon. It had not seemed Emilia's peculiar temptation; +and yet nobody could suppose that she looked at John Lambert +through any glamour of the affections. + +Mr. John Lambert was a millionnaire, a politician, and a +widower. The late Mrs. Lambert had been a specimen of that +cheerful hopelessness of temperament that one finds abundantly +developed among the middle-aged women of country towns. She +enjoyed her daily murders in the newspapers, and wept profusely +at the funerals of strangers. On every occasion, however +felicitous, she offered her condolences in a feeble voice, that +seemed to have been washed a great many times and to have +faded. But she was a good manager, a devoted wife, and was more +cheerful at home than elsewhere, for she had there plenty of +trials to exercise her eloquence, and not enough joy to make it +her duty to be doleful. At last her poor, meek, fatiguing voice +faded out altogether, and her husband mourned her as heartily +as she would have bemoaned the demise of the most insignificant +neighbor. After her death, being left childless, he had +nothing to do but to make money, and he naturally made it. +Having taken his primary financial education in New England, he +graduated at that great business university, Chicago, and then +entered on the public practice of wealth in New York. + +Aunt Jane had perhaps done injustice to the personal appearance +of Mr. John Lambert. His features were irregular, but not +insignificant, and there was a certain air of slow command +about him, which made some persons call him handsome. He was +heavily built, with a large, well-shaped head, light whiskers +tinged with gray, and a sort of dusty complexion. His face was +full of little curved wrinkles, as if it were a slate just +ruled for sums in long division, and his small blue eyes winked +anxiously a dozen different ways, as if they were doing the +sums. He seemed to bristle with memorandum-books, and kept +drawing them from every pocket, to put something down. He was +slow of speech, and his very heaviness of look added to the +impression of reserved power about the man. + +All his career in life had been a solid progress, and his +boldest speculations seemed securer than the legitimate +business of less potent financiers. Beginning business life by +peddling gingerbread on a railway train, he had developed such +a genius for railway management as some men show for chess or +for virtue; and his accumulating property had the momentum of a +planet. + +He had read a good deal at odd times, and had seen a great deal +of men. His private morals were unstained, he was equable and +amiable, had strong good sense, and never got beyond his depth. +He had travelled in Europe and brought home many statistics, +some new thoughts, and a few good pictures selected by his +friends. He spent his money liberally for the things needful to +his position, owned a yacht, bred trotting-horses, and had +founded a theological school. He submitted to these and other +social observances from a vague sense of duty as an American +citizen; his real interest lay in business and in politics. +Yet he conducted these two vocations on principles +diametrically opposite. In business he was more honest than +the average; in politics he had no conception of honesty, for +he could see no difference between a politician and any other +merchandise. He always succeeded in business, for he thoroughly +understood its principles; in politics he always failed in the +end, for he recognized no principles at all. In business he +was active, resolute, and seldom deceived; in politics he was +equally active, but was apt to be irresolute, and was deceived +every day of his life. In both cases it was not so much from +love of power that he labored, as from the excitement of the +game. The larger the scale the better he liked it; a large +railroad operation, a large tract of real estate, a big and +noisy statesman,--these investments he found irresistible. + +On which of his two sets of principles he would manage a wife +remained to be proved. It is the misfortune of what are called +self-made men in America, that, though early accustomed to the +society of men of the world, they often remain utterly +unacquainted with women of the world, until those charming +perils are at last sprung upon them in full force, at New York +or Washington. John Lambert at forty was as absolutely +ignorant of the qualities and habits of a cultivated woman as +of the details of her toilet. The plain domesticity of his +departed wife he had understood and prized; he remembered her +household ways as he did her black alpaca dress; indeed, except +for that item of apparel, she was not so unlike himself. In +later years he had seen the women of society; he had heard them +talk; he had heard men talk about them, wittily or wickedly, at +the clubs; he had perceived that a good many of them wished to +marry him, and yet, after all, he knew no more of them than of +the rearing of humming-birds or orchids,--dainty, tropical +things which he allowed his gardener to raise, he keeping his +hands off, and only paying the bills. Whether there was in +existence a class of women who were both useful and +refined,--any intermediate type between the butterfly and the +drudge,--was a question which he had sometimes asked himself, +without having the materials to construct a reply. + +With imagination thus touched and heart unfilled, this man had +been bewitched from the very first moment by Emilia. He kept +it to himself, and heard in silence the criticisms made at the +club-windows. To those perpetual jokes about marriage, which +are showered with such graceful courtesy about the path of +widowers, he had no reply; or at most would only admit that he +needed some elegant woman to preside over his establishment, +and that he had better take her young, as having habits less +fixed. But in his secret soul he treasured every tone of this +girl's voice, every glance of her eye, and would have kept in a +casket of gold and diamonds the little fragrant glove she once +let fall. He envied the penniless and brainless boys, who, with +ready gallantry, pushed by him to escort her to her carriage; +and he lay awake at night to form into words the answer he +ought to have made, when she threw at him some careless phrase, +and gave him the opportunity to blunder. + +And she, meanwhile, unconscious of his passion, went by him in +her beauty, and caught him in the net she never threw. Emilia +was always piquant, because she was indifferent; she had never +made an effort in her life, and she had no respect for persons. +She was capable of marrying for money, perhaps, but the +sacrifice must all be completed in a single vow. She would not +tutor nor control herself for the purpose. Hand and heart must +be duly transferred, she supposed, whenever the time was up; +but till then she must be free. + +This with her was not art, but necessity; yet the most +accomplished art could have devised nothing so effectual to +hold her lover. His strong sense had always protected him from +the tricks of matchmaking mammas and their guileless maids. +Had Emilia made one effort to please him, once concealed a +dislike, once affected a preference, the spell might have been +broken. Had she been his slave, he might have become a very +unyielding or a very heedless despot. Making him her slave, she +kept him at the very height of bliss. This king of railways and +purchaser of statesmen, this man who made or wrecked the +fortunes of others by his whim, was absolutely governed by a +reckless, passionate, inexperienced, ignorant girl. + +And this passion was made all the stronger by being a good deal +confined to his own breast. Somehow it was very hard for him +to talk sentiment to Emilia; he instinctively saw she disliked +it, and indeed he liked her for not approving the stiff phrases +which were all he could command. Nor could he find any relief +of mind in talking with others about her. It enraged him to be +clapped on the back and congratulated by his compeers; and he +stopped their coarse jokes, often rudely enough. As for the +young men at the club, he could not bear to hear them mention +his darling's name, however courteously. He knew well enough +that for them the betrothal had neither dignity nor purity; +that they held it to be as much a matter of bargain and sale as +their worst amours. He would far rather have talked to the +theological professors whose salaries he paid, for he saw that +they had a sort of grave, formal tradition of the sacredness of +marriage. And he had a right to claim that to him it was +sacred, at least as yet; all the ideal side of his nature was +suddenly developed; he walked in a dream; he even read +Tennyson. + +Sometimes he talked a little to his future brother-in-law, +Harry,--assuming, as lovers are wont, that brothers see sisters +on their ideal side. This was quite true of Harry and Hope, +but not at all true as regarded Emilia. She seemed to him +simply a beautiful and ungoverned girl whom he could not +respect, and whom he therefore found it very hard to idealize. +Therefore he heard with a sort of sadness the outpourings of +generous devotion from John Lambert. + +"I don't know how it is, Henry," the merchant would gravely +say, "I can't get rightly used to it, that I feel so strange. +Honestly, now, I feel as if I was beginning life over again. It +ain't a selfish feeling, so I know there's some good in it. I +used to be selfish enough, but I ain't so to her. You may not +think it, but if it would make her happy, I believe I could lie +down and let her carriage roll over me. By -----, I would build +her a palace to live in, and keep the lodge at the gate myself, +just to see her pass by. That is, if she was to live in it +alone by herself. I couldn't stand sharing her. It must be me +or nobody." + +Probably there was no male acquaintance of the parties, however +hardened, to whom these fine flights would have seemed more +utterly preposterous than to the immediate friend and +prospective bridesmaid, Miss Blanche Ingleside. To that young +lady, trained sedulously by a devoted mother, life was really a +serious thing. It meant the full rigor of the marriage market, +tempered only by dancing and new dresses. There was a stern +sense of duty beneath all her robing and disrobing; she +conscientiously did what was expected of her, and took her +little amusements meanwhile. It was supposed that most of the +purchasers in the market preferred slang and bare shoulders, +and so she favored them with plenty of both. It was merely the +law of supply and demand. Had John Lambert once hinted that he +would accept her in decent black, she would have gone to the +next ball as a Sister of Charity; but where was the need of it, +when she and her mother both knew that, had she appeared as the +Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, she would not have won him? So her +only resource was a cheerful acquiescence in Emilia's luck, and +a judicious propitiation of the accepted favorite. + +"I wouldn't mind playing Virtue Rewarded myself, young woman," +said Blanche, "at such a scale of prices. I would do it even +to so slow an audience as old Lambert. But you see, it isn't +my line. Don't forget your humble friends when you come into +your property, that's all." Then the tender coterie of +innocents entered on some preliminary consideration of +wedding-dresses. + +When Emilia came home, she dismissed the whole matter lightly +as a settled thing, evaded all talk with Aunt Jane, and coolly +said to Kate that she had no objection to Mr. Lambert, and +might as well marry him as anybody else. + +"I am not like you and Hal, you know," said she. "I have no +fancy for love in a cottage. I never look well in anything +that is not costly. I have not a taste that does not imply a +fortune. What is the use of love? One marries for love, and is +unhappy ever after. One marries for money, and perhaps gets +love after all. I dare say Mr. Lambert loves me, though I do +not see why he should." + +"I fear he does," said Kate, almost severely. + +"Fear?" said Emilia. + +"Yes," said Kate. "It is an unequal bargain, where one side +does all the loving." + +"Don't be troubled," said Emilia. "I dare say he will not love +me long. Nobody ever did!" And her eyes filled with tears +which she dashed away angrily, as she ran up to her room. + +It was harder yet for her to talk with Hope, but she did it, +and that in a very serious mood. She had never been so open +with her sister. + +"Aunt Jane once told me," she said, "that my only safety was in +marrying a good man. Now I am engaged to one." + +"Do you love him, Emilia?" asked Hope, gravely. + +"Not much," said Emilia, honestly. "But perhaps I shall, by +and by." + +"Emilia," cried Hope, "there is no such thing as happiness in a +marriage without love." + +"Mine is not without love," the girl answered. "He loves me. +It frightens me to see how much he loves me. I can have the +devotion of a lifetime, if I will. Perhaps it is hard to +receive it in such a way, but I can have it. Do you blame me +very much?" + +Hope hesitated. "I cannot blame you so much, my child," she +said, "as if I thought it were money for which you cared. It +seems to me that there must be something beside that, and +yet--" + +"O Hope, how I thank you," interrupted Emilia. "It is not +money. You know I do not care about money, except just to buy +my clothes and things. At least, I do not care about so much +as he has,--more than a million dollars, only think! Perhaps +they said two million. Is it wrong for me to marry him, just +because he has that?" + +"Not if you love him." + +"I do not exactly love him, but O Hope, I cannot tell you about +it. I am not so frivolous as you think. I want to do my duty. +I want to make you happy too: you have been so sweet to me." + +"Did you think it would make me happy to have you married?" +asked Hope, surprised, and kissing again and again the young, +sad face. And the two girls went upstairs together, brought for +the moment into more sisterly nearness by the very thing that +had seemed likely to set them forever apart. + + + +XIII. + +DREAMING DREAMS. + +SO short was the period between Emilia's betrothal and her +marriage, that Aunt Jane's sufferings over trousseau and visits +did not last long. Mr. Lambert's society was the worst thing to +bear. + +"He makes such long calls!" she said, despairingly. "He should +bring an almanac with him to know when the days go by." + +"But Harry and Philip are here all the time," said Kate, the +accustomed soother. + +"Harry is quiet, and Philip keeps out of the way lately," she +answered. "But I always thought lovers the most inconvenient +thing about a house. They are more troublesome than the mice, +and all those people who live in the wainscot; for though the +lovers make less noise, yet you have to see them." + +"A necessary evil, dear," said Kate, with much philosophy. + +"I am not sure," said the complainant. "They might be excluded +in the deed of a house, or by the terms of the lease. The next +house I take, I shall say to the owner, 'Have you a good well +of water on the premises? Are you troubled with rats or +lovers?' That will settle it." + +It was true, what Aunt Jane said about Malbone. He had changed +his habits a good deal. While the girls were desperately busy +about the dresses, he beguiled Harry to the club, and sat on +the piazza, talking sentiment and sarcasm, regardless of +hearers. + +"When we are young," he would say, "we are all idealists in +love. Every imaginative boy has such a passion, while his +intellect is crude and his senses indifferent. It is the +height of bliss. All other pleasures are not worth its pains. +With older men this ecstasy of the imagination is rare; it is +the senses that clutch or reason which holds." + +"Is that an improvement?" asked some juvenile listener. + +"No!" said Philip, strongly. "Reason is cold and sensuality +hateful; a man of any feeling must feed his imagination; there +must be a woman of whom he can dream." + +"That is," put in some more critical auditor, "whom he can love +as a woman loves a man." + +"For want of the experience of such a passion," Malbone went +on, unheeding, "nobody comprehends Petrarch. Philosophers and +sensualists all refuse to believe that his dream of Laura went +on, even when he had a mistress and a child. Why not? Every +one must have something to which his dreams can cling, amid the +degradations of actual life, and this tie is more real than the +degradation; and if he holds to the tie, it will one day save +him." + +"What is the need of the degradation?" put in the clear-headed +Harry. + +"None, except in weakness," said Philip. "A stronger nature +may escape it. Good God! do I not know how Petrarch must have +felt? What sorrow life brings! Suppose a man hopelessly +separated from one whom he passionately loves. Then, as he +looks up at the starry sky, something says to him: 'You can +bear all these agonies of privation, loss of life, loss of +love,--what are they? If the tie between you is what you +thought, neither life nor death, neither folly nor sin, can +keep her forever from you.' Would that one could always feel +so! But I am weak. Then comes impulse, it thirsts for some +immediate gratification; I yield, and plunge into any happiness +since I cannot obtain her. Then comes quiet again, with the +stars, and I bitterly reproach myself for needing anything more +than that stainless ideal. And so, I fancy, did Petrarch." + +Philip was getting into a dangerous mood with his +sentimentalism. No lawful passion can ever be so bewildering or +ecstatic as an unlawful one. For that which is right has all +the powers of the universe on its side, and can afford to wait; +but the wrong, having all those vast forces against it, must +hurry to its fulfilment, reserve nothing, concentrate all its +ecstasies upon to-day. Malbone, greedy of emotion, was drinking +to the dregs a passion that could have no to-morrow. + +Sympathetic persons are apt to assume that every refined +emotion must be ennobling. This is not true of men like +Malbone, voluptuaries of the heart. He ordinarily got up a +passion very much as Lord Russell got up an appetite,--he, of +Spence's Anecdotes, who went out hunting for that sole purpose, +and left the chase when the sensation came. Malbone did not +leave his more spiritual chase so soon,--it made him too happy. +Sometimes, indeed, when he had thus caught his emotion, it +caught him in return, and for a few moments made him almost +unhappy. This he liked best of all; he nursed the delicious +pain, knowing that it would die out soon enough, there was no +need of hurrying it to a close. At least, there had never been +need for such solicitude before. + +Except for his genius for keeping his own counsel, every +acquaintance of Malbone's would have divined the meaning of +these reveries. As it was, he was called whimsical and +sentimental, but he was a man of sufficiently assured position +to have whims of his own, and could even treat himself to an +emotion or so, if he saw fit. Besides, he talked well to +anybody on anything, and was admitted to exhibit, for a man of +literary tastes, a good deal of sense. If he had engaged +himself to a handsome schoolmistress, it was his fancy, and he +could afford it. Moreover she was well connected, and had an +air. And what more natural than that he should stand at the +club-window and watch, when his young half-sister (that was to +be) drove by with John Lambert? So every afternoon he saw them +pass in a vehicle of lofty description, with two wretched +appendages in dark blue broadcloth, who sat with their backs +turned to their masters, kept their arms folded, and nearly +rolled off at every corner. Hope would have dreaded the close +neighborhood of those Irish ears; she would rather have ridden +even in an omnibus, could she and Philip have taken all the +seats. But then Hope seldom cared to drive on the Avenue at +all, except as a means of reaching the ocean, whereas with most +people it appears the appointed means to escape from that +spectacle. And as for the footmen, there was nothing in the +conversation worth their hearing or repeating; and their +presence was a relief to Emilia, for who knew but Mr. Lambert +himself might end in growing sentimental? + +Yet she did not find him always equally tedious. Their drives +had some variety. For instance, he sometimes gave her some +lovely present before they set forth, and she could feel that, +if his lips did not yield diamonds and rubies, his pockets did. +Sometimes he conversed about money and investments, which she +rather liked; this was his strong and commanding point; he +explained things quite clearly, and they found, with mutual +surprise, that she also had a shrewd little brain for those +matters, if she would but take the trouble to think about them. +Sometimes he insisted on being tender, and even this was not so +bad as she expected, at least for a few minutes at a time; she +rather enjoyed having her hand pressed so seriously, and his +studied phrases amused her. It was only when he wished the +conversation to be brilliant and intellectual, that he became +intolerable; then she must entertain him, must get up little +repartees, must tell him lively anecdotes, which he swallowed +as a dog bolts a morsel, being at once ready for the next. He +never made a comment, of course, but at the height of his +enjoyment he gave a quick, short, stupid laugh, that so jarred +upon her ears, she would have liked to be struck deaf rather +than hear it again. + +At these times she thought of Malbone, how gifted he was, how +inexhaustible, how agreeable, with a faculty for happiness that +would have been almost provoking had it not been contagious. +Then she looked from her airy perch and smiled at him at the +club-window, where he stood in the most negligent of attitudes, +and with every faculty strained in observation. A moment and +she was gone. + +Then all was gone, and a mob of queens might have blocked the +way, without his caring to discuss their genealogies, even with +old General Le Breton, who had spent his best (or his worst) +years abroad, and was supposed to have been confidential +adviser to most of the crowned heads of Europe. + +For the first time in his life Malbone found himself in the +grasp of a passion too strong to be delightful. For the first +time his own heart frightened him. He had sometimes feared that +it was growing harder, but now he discovered that it was not +hard enough. + +He knew it was not merely mercenary motives that had made +Emilia accept John Lambert; but what troubled him was a vague +knowledge that it was not mere pique. He was used to dealing +with pique in women, and had found it the most manageable of +weaknesses. It was an element of spasmodic conscience than he +saw here, and it troubled him. + +Something told him that she had said to herself: "I will be +married, and thus do my duty to Hope. Other girls marry +persons whom they do not love, and it helps them to forget. +Perhaps it will help me. This is a good man, they say, and I +think he loves me." + +"Think?" John Lambert had adored her when she had passed by +him without looking at him; and now when the thought came over +him that she would be his wife, he became stupid with bliss. +And as latterly he had thought of little else, he remained more +or less stupid all the time. + +To a man like Malbone, self-indulgent rather than selfish, this +poor, blind semblance of a moral purpose in Emilia was a great +embarrassment. It is a terrible thing for a lover when he +detects conscience amidst the armory of weapons used against +him, and faces the fact that he must blunt a woman's principles +to win her heart. Philip was rather accustomed to evade +conscience, but he never liked to look it in the face and defy +it. + +Yet if the thought of Hope at this time came over him, it came +as a constraint, and he disliked it as such; and the more +generous and beautiful she was, the greater the constraint. He +cursed himself that he had allowed himself to be swayed back to +her, and so had lost Emilia forever. And thus he drifted on, +not knowing what he wished for, but knowing extremely well what +he feared. + + + +XIV. + +THE NEMESIS OF PASSION. + +MALBONE was a person of such ready, emotional nature, and such +easy expression, that it was not hard for Hope to hide from +herself the gradual ebbing of his love. Whenever he was fresh +and full of spirits, he had enough to overflow upon her and +every one. But when other thoughts and cares were weighing on +him, he could not share them, nor could he at such times, out +of the narrowing channel of his own life, furnish more than a +few scanty drops for her. + +At these times he watched with torturing fluctuations the signs +of solicitude in Hope, the timid withdrawing of her fingers, +the questioning of her eyes, the weary drooping of her whole +expression. Often he cursed himself as a wretch for paining +that pure and noble heart. Yet there were moments when a vague +inexpressible delight stole in; a glimmering of shame-faced +pleasure as he pondered on this visible dawning of distrust; a +sudden taste of freedom in being no longer fettered by her +confidence. By degrees he led himself, still half ashamed, to +the dream that she might yet be somehow weaned from him, and +leave his conscience free. By constantly building upon this +thought, and putting aside all others, he made room upon the +waste of his life for a house of cards, glittering, +unsubstantial, lofty,--until there came some sudden breath that +swept it away; and then he began on it again. + +In one of those moments of more familiar faith which still +alternated with these cold, sad intervals, she asked him with +some sudden impulse, how he should feel if she loved another? +She said it, as if guided by an instinct, to sound the depth of +his love for her. Starting with amazement, he looked at her, +and then, divining her feeling, he only replied by an +expression of reproach, and by kissing her hands with an +habitual tenderness that had grown easy to him,--and they were +such lovely hands! But his heart told him that no spent swimmer +ever transferred more eagerly to another's arms some precious +burden beneath which he was consciously sinking, than he would +yield her up to any one whom she would consent to love, and who +could be trusted with the treasure. Until that ecstasy of +release should come, he would do his duty,--yes, his duty. + +When these flushed hopes grew pale, as they soon did, he could +at least play with the wan fancies that took their place. Hour +after hour, while she lavished upon him the sweetness of her +devotion, he was half consciously shaping with his tongue some +word of terrible revealing that should divide them like a +spell, if spoken, and then recalling it before it left his +lips. Daily and hourly he felt the last agony of a weak and +passionate nature,--to dream of one woman in another's arms. + +She, too, watched him with an ever-increasing instinct of +danger, studied with a chilly terror the workings of his face, +weighed and reweighed his words in absence, agonized herself +with new and ever new suspicions; and then, when these had +accumulated beyond endurance, seized them convulsively and +threw them all away. Then, coming back to him with a great +overwhelming ardor of affection, she poured upon him more and +more in proportion as he gave her less. + +Sometimes in these moments of renewed affection he half gave +words to his remorse, accused himself before her of unnamed +wrong, and besought her to help him return to his better self. +These were the most dangerous moments of all, for such appeals +made tenderness and patience appear a duty; she must put away +her doubts as sins, and hold him to her; she must refuse to see +his signs of faltering faith, or treat them as mere symptoms of +ill health. Should not a wife cling the closer to her husband +in proportion as he seemed alienated through the wanderings of +disease? And was not this her position? So she said within +herself, and meanwhile it was not hard to penetrate her +changing thoughts, at least for so keen an observer as Aunt +Jane. Hope, at length, almost ceased to speak of Malbone, and +revealed her grief by this evasion, as the robin reveals her +nest by flitting from it. + +Yet there were times when he really tried to force himself into +a revival of this calmer emotion. He studied Hope's beauty +with his eyes, he pondered on all her nobleness. He wished to +bring his whole heart back to her--or at least wished that he +wished it. But hearts that have educated themselves into +faithlessness must sooner or later share the suffering they +give. Love will be avenged on them. Nothing could have now +recalled this epicure in passion, except, possibly, a little +withholding or semi-coquetry on Hope's part, and this was +utterly impossible for her. Absolute directness was a part of +her nature; she could die, but not manouvre. + +It actually diminished Hope's hold on Philip, that she had at +this time the whole field to herself. Emilia had gone for a +few weeks to the mountains, with the household of which she was +a guest. An ideal and unreasonable passion is strongest in +absence, when the dream is all pure dream, and safe from the +discrepancies of daily life. When the two girls were together, +Emilia often showed herself so plainly Hope's inferior, that it +jarred on Philip's fine perceptions. But in Emilia's absence +the spell of temperament, or whatever else brought them +together, resumed its sway unchecked; she became one great +magnet of attraction, and all the currents of the universe +appeared to flow from the direction where her eyes were +shining. When she was out of sight, he needed to make no +allowance for her defects, to reproach himself with no overt +acts of disloyalty to Hope, to recognize no criticisms of his +own intellect or conscience. He could resign himself to his +reveries, and pursue them into new subtleties day by day. + +There was Mrs. Meredith's house, too, where they had been so +happy. And now the blinds were pitilessly closed, all but one +where the Venetian slats had slipped, and stood half open as if +some dainty fingers held them, and some lovely eyes looked +through. He gazed so long and so often on that silent +house,--by day, when the scorching sunshine searched its pores +as if to purge away every haunting association, or by night, +when the mantle of darkness hung tenderly above it, and seemed +to collect the dear remembrances again,--that his fancy by +degrees grew morbid, and its pictures unreal. "It is +impossible," he one day thought to himself, "that she should +have lived in that room so long, sat in that window, dreamed on +that couch, reflected herself in that mirror, breathed that +air, without somehow detaching invisible fibres of her being, +delicate films of herself, that must gradually, she being gone, +draw together into a separate individuality an image not quite +bodiless, that replaces her in her absence, as the holy +Theocrite was replaced by the angel. If there are ghosts of the +dead, why not ghosts of the living also?" This lover's fancy so +pleased him that he brought to bear upon it the whole force of +his imagination, and it grew stronger day by day. To him, +thenceforth, the house was haunted, and all its floating traces +of herself visible or invisible,--from the ribbon that he saw +entangled in the window-blind to every intangible and fancied +atom she had imparted to the atmosphere,--came at last to +organize themselves into one phantom shape for him and looked +out, a wraith of Emilia, through those relentless blinds. As +the vision grew more vivid, he saw the dim figure moving +through the house, wan, restless, tender, lingering where they +had lingered, haunting every nook where they had been happy +once. In the windy moanings of the silent night he could put +his ear at the keyhole, and could fancy that he heard the wild +signals of her love and despair. + + + +XV. + +ACROSS THE BAY. + +THE children, as has been said, were all devoted to Malbone, +and this was, in a certain degree, to his credit. But it is a +mistake to call children good judges of character, except in +one direction, namely, their own. They understand it, up to the +level of their own stature; they know who loves them, but not +who loves virtue. Many a sinner has a great affection for +children, and no child will ever detect the sins of such a +friend; because, toward them, the sins do not exist. + +The children, therefore, all loved Philip, and yet they turned +with delight, when out-door pleasures were in hand, to the +strong and adroit Harry. Philip inclined to the daintier +exercises, fencing, billiards, riding; but Harry's vigorous +physique enjoyed hard work. He taught all the household to +swim, for instance. Jenny, aged five, a sturdy, deep-chested +little thing, seemed as amphibious as himself. She could +already swim alone, but she liked to keep close to him, as all +young animals do to their elders in the water, not seeming to +need actual support, but stronger for the contact. Her favorite +position, however, was on his back, where she triumphantly +clung, grasping his bathing-dress with one hand, swinging +herself to and fro, dipping her head beneath the water, singing +and shouting, easily shifting her position when he wished to +vary his, and floating by him like a little fish, when he was +tired of supporting her. It was pretty to see the child in her +one little crimson garment, her face flushed with delight, her +fair hair glistening from the water, and the waves rippling and +dancing round her buoyant form. As Harry swam farther and +farther out, his head was hidden from view by her small person, +and she might have passed for a red seabird rocking on the +gentle waves. It was one of the regular delights of the +household to see them bathe. + +Kate came in to Aunt Jane's room, one August morning, to say +that they were going to the water-side. How differently people +may enter a room! Hope always came in as the summer breeze +comes, quiet, strong, soft, fragrant, resistless. Emilia never +seemed to come in at all; you looked up, and she had somehow +drifted where she stood, pleading, evasive, lovely. This was +especially the case where one person was awaiting her alone; +with two she was more fearless, with a dozen she was buoyant, +and with a hundred she forgot herself utterly and was a spirit +of irresistible delight. + +But Kate entered any room, whether nursery or kitchen, as if it +were the private boudoir of a princess and she the favorite +maid of honor. Thus it was she came that morning to Aunt Jane. + +"We are going down to see the bathers, dear," said Kate. +"Shall you miss me?" + +"I miss you every minute," said her aunt, decisively. "But I +shall do very well. I have delightful times here by myself. +What a ridiculous man it was who said that it was impossible to +imagine a woman's laughing at her own comic fancies. I sit and +laugh at my own nonsense very often." + +"It is a shame to waste it," said Kate. + +"It is a blessing that any of it is disposed of while you are +not here," said Aunt Jane. "You have quite enough of it." + +"We never have enough," said Kate. "And we never can make you +repeat any of yesterday's." + +"Of course not," said Aunt Jane. "Nonsense must have the dew +on it, or it is good for nothing." + +"So you are really happiest alone?" + +"Not so happy as when you are with me,--you or Hope. I like to +have Hope with me now; she does me good. Really, I do not care +for anybody else. Sometimes I think if I could always have four +or five young kittens by me, in a champagne-basket, with a +nurse to watch them, I should be happier. But perhaps not; they +would grow up so fast!" + +"Then I will leave you alone without compunction," said Kate. + +"I am not alone," said Aunt Jane; "I have my man in the boat to +watch through the window. What a singular being he is! I think +he spends hours in that boat, and what he does I can't +conceive. There it is, quietly anchored, and there is he in it. +I never saw anybody but myself who could get up so much +industry out of nothing. He has all his housework there, a +broom and a duster, and I dare say he has a cooking-stove and a +gridiron. He sits a little while, then he stoops down, then he +goes to the other end. Sometimes he goes ashore in that absurd +little tub, with a stick that he twirls at one end." + +"That is called sculling," interrupted Kate. + +"Sculling! I suppose he runs for a baked potato. Then he goes +back. He is Robinson Crusoe on an island that never keeps still +a single instant. It is all he has, and he never looks away, +and never wants anything more. So I have him to watch. Think +of living so near a beaver or a water-rat with clothes on! +Good-by. Leave the door ajar, it is so warm." + +And Kate went down to the landing. It was near the "baptismal +shore," where every Sunday the young people used to watch the +immersions; they liked to see the crowd of spectators, the +eager friends, the dripping convert, the serene young minister, +the old men and girls who burst forth in song as the new +disciple rose from the waves. It was the weekly festival in +that region, and the sunshine and the ripples made it +gladdening, not gloomy. Every other day in the week the +children of the fishermen waded waist-deep in the water, and +played at baptism. + +Near this shore stood the family bathing-house; and the girls +came down to sit in its shadow and watch the swimming. It was +late in August, and on the first of September Emilia was to be +married. + +Nothing looked cool, that day, but the bay and those who were +going into it. Out came Hope from the bathing-house, in a new +bathing-dress of dark blue, which was evidently what the others +had come forth to behold. + +"Hope, what an imposter you are!" cried Kate instantly. "You +declined all my proffers of aid in cutting that dress, and now +see how it fits you! You never looked so beautifully in your +life. There is not such another bathing-dress in Oldport, nor +such a figure to wear it." + +And she put both her arms round that supple, stately waist, +that might have belonged to a Greek goddess, or to some queen +in the Nibelungen Lied. + +The party watched the swimmers as they struck out over the +clear expanse. It was high noon; the fishing-boats were all +off, but a few pleasure-boats swung different ways at their +moorings, in the perfect calm. The white light-house stood +reflected opposite, at the end of its long pier; a few vessels +lay at anchor, with their sails up to dry, but with that +deserted look which coasters in port are wont to wear. A few +fishes dimpled the still surface, and as the three swam out +farther and farther, their merry voices still sounded close at +hand. Suddenly they all clapped their hands and called; then +pointed forward to the light-house, across the narrow harbor. + +"They are going to swim across," said Kate. "What creatures +they are! Hope and little Jenny have always begged for it, and +now Harry thinks it is so still a day they can safely venture. +It is more than half a mile. See! he has called that boy in a +boat, and he will keep near them. They have swum farther than +that along the shore." + +So the others went away with no fears. + +Hope said afterwards that she never swam with such delight as +on that day. The water seemed to be peculiarly thin and clear, +she said, as well as tranquil, and to retain its usual buoyancy +without its density. It gave a delicious sense of freedom; she +seemed to swim in air, and felt singularly secure. For the +first time she felt what she had always wished to +experience,--that swimming was as natural as walking, and might +be indefinitely prolonged. Her strength seemed limitless, she +struck out more and more strongly; she splashed and played with +little Jenny, when the child began to grow weary of the long +motion. A fisherman's boy in a boat rowed slowly along by their +side. + +Nine tenths of the distance had been accomplished, when the +little girl grew quite impatient, and Hope bade Harry swim on +before her, and land his charge. Light and buoyant as the child +was, her tightened clasp had begun to tell on him. + +"It tires you, Hal, to bear that weight so long, and you know I +have nothing to carry. You must see that I am not in the least +tired, only a little dazzled by the sun. Here, Charley, give +me your hat, and then row on with Mr. Harry." She put on the +boy's torn straw hat, and they yielded to her wish. People +almost always yielded to Hope's wishes when she expressed +them,--it was so very seldom. + +Somehow the remaining distance seemed very great, as Hope saw +them glide away, leaving her in the water alone, her feet +unsupported by any firm element, the bright and pitiless sky +arching far above her, and her head burning with more heat than +she had liked to own. She was conscious of her full strength, +and swam more vigorously than ever; but her head was hot and +her ears rang, and she felt chilly vibrations passing up and +down her sides, that were like, she fancied, the innumerable +fringing oars of the little jelly-fishes she had so often +watched. Her body felt almost unnaturally strong, and she took +powerful strokes; but it seemed as if her heart went out into +them and left a vacant cavity within. More and more her life +seemed boiling up into her head; queer fancies came to her, as, +for instance, that she was an inverted thermometer with the +mercury all ascending into a bulb at the top. She shook her +head and the fancy cleared away, and then others came. + +She began to grow seriously anxious, but the distance was +diminishing; Harry was almost at the steps with the child, and +the boy had rowed his skiff round the breakwater out of sight; +a young fisherman leaned over the railing with his back to her, +watching the lobster-catchers on the other side. She was almost +in; it was only a slight dizziness, yet she could not see the +light-house. Concentrating all her efforts, she shut her eyes +and swam on, her arms still unaccountably vigorous, though the +rest of her body seemed losing itself in languor. The sound in +her ear had grown to a roar, as of many mill-wheels. It seemed +a long distance that she thus swam with her eyes closed. Then +she half opened her eyes, and the breakwater seemed all in +motion, with tier above tier of eager faces looking down on +her. In an instant there was a sharp splash close beside her, +and she felt herself grasped and drawn downwards, with a whirl +of something just above her, and then all consciousness went +out as suddenly as when ether brings at last to a patient, +after the roaring and the tumult in his brain, its blessed +foretaste of the deliciousness of death. + +When Hope came again to consciousness, she found herself +approaching her own pier in a sail-boat, with several very wet +gentlemen around her, and little Jenny nestled close to her, +crying as profusely as if her pretty scarlet bathing-dress were +being wrung out through her eyes. Hope asked no questions, and +hardly felt the impulse to inquire what had happened. The +truth was, that in the temporary dizziness produced by her +prolonged swim, she had found herself in the track of a +steamboat that was passing the pier, unobserved by her brother. +A young man, leaping from the dock, had caught her in his arms, +and had dived with her below the paddle-wheels, just as they +came upon her. It was a daring act, but nothing else could have +saved her. When they came to the surface, they had been picked +up by Aunt Jane's Robinson Crusoe, who had at last unmoored his +pilot-boat and was rounding the light-house for the outer +harbor. + +She and the child were soon landed, and given over to the +ladies. Due attention was paid to her young rescuer, whose +dripping garments seemed for the moment as glorious as a +blood-stained flag. He seemed a simple, frank young fellow of +French or German origin, but speaking English remarkably well; +he was not high-bred, by any means, but had apparently the +culture of an average German of the middle class. Harry fancied +that he had seen him before, and at last traced back the +impression of his features to the ball for the French officers. +It turned out, on inquiry, that he had a brother in the +service, and on board the corvette; but he himself was a +commercial agent, now in America with a view to business, +though he had made several voyages as mate of a vessel, and +would not object to some such berth as that. He promised to +return and receive the thanks of the family, read with interest +the name on Harry's card, seemed about to ask a question, but +forbore, and took his leave amid the general confusion, without +even giving his address. When sought next day, he was not to +be found, and to the children he at once became as much a +creature of romance as the sea-serpent or the Flying Dutchman. + +Even Hope's strong constitution felt the shock of this +adventure. She was confined to her room for a week or two, but +begged that there might be no postponement of the wedding, +which, therefore, took place without her. Her illness gave +excuse for a privacy that was welcome to all but the +bridesmaids, and suited Malbone best of all. + + + +XVI. + +ON THE STAIRS. + +AUGUST drew toward its close, and guests departed from the +neighborhood. + +"What a short little thing summer is," meditated Aunt Jane, +"and butterflies are caterpillars most of the time after all. +How quiet it seems. The wrens whisper in their box above the +window, and there has not been a blast from the peacock for a +week. He seems ashamed of the summer shortness of his tail. He +keeps glancing at it over his shoulder to see if it is not +looking better than yesterday, while the staring eyes of the +old tail are in the bushes all about." + +"Poor, dear little thing!" said coaxing Katie. "Is she tired +of autumn, before it is begun?" + +"I am never tired of anything," said Aunt Jane, "except my maid +Ruth, and I should not be tired of her, if it had pleased +Heaven to endow her with sufficient strength of mind to sew on +a button. Life is very rich to me. There is always something +new in every season; though to be sure I cannot think what +novelty there is just now, except a choice variety of spiders. +There is a theory that spiders kill flies. But I never miss a +fly, and there does not seem to be any natural scourge divinely +appointed to kill spiders, except Ruth. Even she does it so +feebly, that I see them come back and hang on their webs and +make faces at her. I suppose they are faces; I do not +understand their anatomy, but it must be a very unpleasant +one." + +"You are not quite satisfied with life, today, dear," said +Kate; "I fear your book did not end to your satisfaction." + +"It did end, though," said the lady, "and that is something. +What is there in life so difficult as to stop a book?" If I +wrote one, it would be as long as ten 'Sir Charles Grandisons,' +and then I never should end it, because I should die. And there +would be nobody left to read it, because each reader would have +been dead long before." + +"But the book amused you!" interrupted Kate. "I know it did." + +"It was so absurd that I laughed till I cried; and it makes no +difference whether you cry laughing or cry crying; it is +equally bad when your glasses come off. Never mind. Whom did +you see on the Avenue?" + +"O, we saw Philip on horseback. He rides so beautifully; he +seems one with his horse." + +"I am glad of it," interposed his aunt. "The riders are +generally so inferior to them." + +"We saw Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, too. Emilia stopped and asked +after you, and sent you her love, auntie." + +"Love!" cried Aunt Jane. "She always does that. She has sent +me love enough to rear a whole family on,--more than I ever +felt for anybody in all my days. But she does not really love +any one." + +"I hope she will love her husband," said Kate, rather +seriously. + +"Mark my words, Kate!" said her aunt. "Nothing but unhappiness +will ever come of that marriage. How can two people be happy +who have absolutely nothing in common?" + +"But no two people have just the same tastes," said Kate, +"except Harry and myself. It is not expected. It would be +absurd for two people to be divorced, because the one preferred +white bread and the other brown." + +"They would be divorced very soon," said Aunt Jane, "for the +one who ate brown bread would not live long." + +"But it is possible that he might live, auntie, in spite of +your prediction. And perhaps people may be happy, even if you +and I do not see how." + +"Nobody ever thinks I see anything," said Aunt Jane, in some +dejection. "You think I am nothing in the world but a sort of +old oyster, making amusement for people, and having no more to +do with real life than oysters have." + +"No, dearest!" cried Kate. "You have a great deal to do with +all our lives. You are a dear old insidious sapper-and-miner, +looking at first very inoffensive, and then working your way +into our affections, and spoiling us with coaxing. How you +behave about children, for instance!" + +"How?" said the other meekly. "As well as I can." + +"But you pretend that you dislike them." + +"But I do dislike them. How can anybody help it? Hear them +swearing at this moment, boys of five, paddling in the water +there! Talk about the murder of the innocents! There are so +few innocents to be murdered! If I only had a gun and could +shoot!" + +"You may not like those particular boys," said Kate, "but you +like good, well-behaved children, very much." + +"It takes so many to take care of them! People drive by here, +with carriages so large that two of the largest horses can +hardly draw them, and all full of those little beings. They +have a sort of roof, too, and seem to expect to be out in all +weathers." + +"If you had a family of children, perhaps you would find such a +travelling caravan very convenient," said Kate. + +"If I had such a family," said her aunt, "I would have a +separate governess and guardian for each, very moral persons. +They should come when each child was two, and stay till it was +twenty. The children should all live apart, in order not to +quarrel, and should meet once or twice a day and bow to each +other. I think that each should learn a different language, so +as not to converse, and then, perhaps, they would not get each +other into mischief." + +"I am sure, auntie," said Kate, "you have missed our small +nephews and nieces ever since their visit ended. How still the +house has been!" + +"I do not know," was the answer. "I hear a great many noises +about the house. Somebody comes in late at night. Perhaps it +is Philip; but he comes very softly in, wipes his feet very +gently, like a clean thief, and goes up stairs." + +"O auntie!" said Kate, "you know you have got over all such +fancies." + +"They are not fancies," said Aunt Jane. "Things do happen in +houses! Did I not look under the bed for a thief during fifteen +years, and find one at last? Why should I not be allowed to +hear something now?" + +"But, dear Aunt Jane," said Kate, "you never told me this +before." + +"No," said she. "I was beginning to tell you the other day, +but Ruth was just bringing in my handkerchiefs, and she had +used so much bluing, they looked as if they had been washed in +heaven, so that it was too outrageous, and I forgot everything +else." + +"But do you really hear anything?" + +"Yes," said her aunt. "Ruth declares she hears noises in those +closets that I had nailed up, you know; but that is nothing; of +course she does. Rats. What I hear at night is the creaking +of stairs, when I know that nobody ought to be stirring. If you +observe, you will hear it too. At least, I should think you +would, only that somehow everything always seems to stop, when +it is necessary to prove that I am foolish." + +The girls had no especial engagement that evening, and so got +into a great excitement on the stairway over Aunt Jane's +solicitudes. They convinced themselves that they heard all +sorts of things,--footfalls on successive steps, the creak of a +plank, the brushing of an arm against a wall, the jar of some +suspended object that was stirred in passing. Once they heard +something fall on the floor, and roll from step to step; and +yet they themselves stood on the stairway, and nothing passed. +Then for some time there was silence, but they would have +persisted in their observations, had not Philip come in from +Mrs. Meredith's in the midst of it, so that the whole thing +turned into a frolic, and they sat on the stairs and told ghost +stories half the night. + + + +XVII. + +DISCOVERY. + +THE next evening Kate and Philip went to a ball. As Hope was +passing through the hall late in the evening, she heard a +sudden, sharp cry somewhere in the upper regions, that sounded, +she thought, like a woman's voice. She stopped to hear, but +there was silence. It seemed to come from the direction of +Malbone's room, which was in the third story. Again came the +cry, more gently, ending in a sort of sobbing monologue. +Gliding rapidly up stairs in the dark, she paused at Philip's +deserted room, but the door was locked, and there was profound +stillness. She then descended, and pausing at the great +landing, heard other steps descending also. Retreating to the +end of the hall, she hastily lighted a candle, when the steps +ceased. With her accustomed nerve, wishing to explore the +thing thoroughly, she put out the light and kept still. As she +expected, the footsteps presently recommenced, descending +stealthily, but drawing no nearer, and seeming rather like +sounds from an adjoining house, heard through a party-wall. +This was impossible, as the house stood alone. Flushed with +excitement, she relighted the hall candles, and, taking one of +them, searched the whole entry and stairway, going down even to +the large, old-fashioned cellar. + +Looking about her in this unfamiliar region, her eye fell on a +door that seemed to open into the wall; she had noticed a +similar door on the story above,--one of the closet doors that +had been nailed up by Aunt Jane's order. As she looked, +however, a chill breath blew in from another direction, +extinguishing her lamp. This air came from the outer door of +the cellar, and she had just time to withdraw into a corner +before a man's steps approached, passing close by her. + +Even Hope's strong nerves had begun to yield, and a cold +shudder went through her. Not daring to move, she pressed +herself against the wall, and her heart seemed to stop as the +unseen stranger passed. Instead of his ascending where she had +come down, as she had expected, she heard him grope his way +toward the door she had seen in the wall. + +There he seemed to find a stairway, and when his steps were +thus turned from her, she was seized by a sudden impulse and +followed him, groping her way as she could. She remembered +that the girls had talked of secret stairways in that house, +though she had no conception whither they could lead, unless to +some of the shut-up closets. + +She steadily followed, treading cautiously upon each creaking +step. The stairway was very narrow, and formed a regular spiral +as in a turret. The darkness and the curving motion confused +her brain, and it was impossible to tell how high in the house +she was, except when once she put her hand upon what was +evidently a door, and moreover saw through its cracks the lamp +she had left burning in the upper hall. This glimpse of +reality reassured her. She had begun to discover where she +was. The doors which Aunt Jane had closed gave access, not to +mere closets, but to a spiral stairway, which evidently went +from top to bottom of the house, and was known to some one else +beside herself. + +Relieved of that slight shudder at the supernatural which +sometimes affects the healthiest nerves, Hope paused to +consider. To alarm the neighborhood was her first thought. A +slight murmuring from above dispelled it; she must first +reconnoitre a few steps farther. As she ascended a little way, +a gleam shone upon her, and down the damp stairway came a +fragrant odor, as from some perfumed chamber. Then a door was +shut and reopened. Eager beyond expression, she followed on. +Another step, and she stood at the door of Malbone's apartment. + +The room was brilliant with light; the doors and windows were +heavily draped. Fruit and flowers and wine were on the table. +On the sofa lay Emilia in a gay ball-dress, sunk in one of her +motionless trances, while Malbone, pale with terror, was +deluging her brows with the water he had just brought from the +well below. + +Hope stopped a moment and leaned against the door, as her eyes +met Malbone's. Then she made her way to a chair, and leaning on +the back of it, which she fingered convulsively, looked with +bewildered eyes and compressed lips from the one to the other. +Malbone tried to speak, but failed; tried again, and brought +forth only a whisper that broke into clearer speech as the +words went on. "No use to explain," he said. "Lambert is in +New York. Mrs. Meredith is expecting her--to-night after the +ball. What can we do?" + +Hope covered her face as he spoke; she could bear anything +better than to have him say "we," as if no gulf had opened +between them. She sank slowly on her knees behind her chair, +keeping it as a sort of screen between herself and these two +people,--the counterfeits, they seemed, of her lover and her +sister. If the roof in falling to crush them had crushed her +also, she could scarcely have seemed more rigid or more +powerless. It passed, and the next moment she was on her feet +again, capable of action. + +"She must be taken," she said very clearly, but in a lower tone +than usual, "to my chamber." Then pointing to the candles, she +said, more huskily, "We must not be seen. Put them out." Every +syllable seemed to exhaust her. But as Philip obeyed her +words, he saw her move suddenly and stand by Emilia's side. + +She put out both arms as if to lift the young girl, and carry +her away. + +"You cannot," said Philip, putting her gently aside, while she +shrank from his touch. Then he took Emilia in his arms and +bore her to the door, Hope preceding. + +Motioning him to pause a moment, she turned the lock softly, +and looked out into the dark entry. All was still. She went +out, and he followed with his motionless burden. They walked +stealthily, like guilty things, yet every slight motion seemed +to ring in their ears. It was chilly, and Hope shivered. +Through the great open window on the stairway a white fog +peered in at them, and the distant fog-whistle came faintly +through; it seemed as if the very atmosphere were condensing +about them, to isolate the house in which such deeds were done. +The clock struck twelve, and it seemed as if it struck a +thousand. + +When they reached Hope's door, she turned and put out her arms +for Emilia, as for a child. Every expression had now gone from +Hope's face but a sort of stony calmness, which put her +infinitely farther from Malbone than had the momentary +struggle. As he gave the girlish form into arms that shook and +trembled beneath its weight, he caught a glimpse in the +pier-glass of their two white faces, and then, looking down, +saw the rose-tints yet lingering on Emilia's cheek. She, the +source of all this woe, looked the only representative of +innocence between two guilty things. + +How white and pure and maidenly looked Hope's little +room,--such a home of peace, he thought, till its door suddenly +opened to admit all this passion and despair! There was a great +sheaf of cardinal flowers on the table, and their petals were +drooping, as if reluctant to look on him. Scheffer's Christus +Consolator was upon the walls, and the benign figure seemed to +spread wider its arms of mercy, to take in a few sad hearts +more. + +Hope bore Emilia into the light and purity and warmth, while +Malbone was shut out into the darkness and the chill. The only +two things to which he clung on earth, the two women between +whom his unsteady heart had vibrated, and both whose lives had +been tortured by its vacillation, went away from his sight +together, the one victim bearing the other victim in her arms. +Never any more while he lived would either of them be his +again; and had Dante known it for his last glimpse of things +immortal when the two lovers floated away from him in their sad +embrace, he would have had no such sense of utter banishment as +had Malbone then. + + + +XVIII. + +HOPE'S VIGIL. + +HAD Emilia chosen out of life's whole armory of weapons the +means of disarming Hope, she could have found nothing so +effectual as nature had supplied in her unconsciousness. +Helplessness conquers. There was a quality in Emilia which +would have always produced something very like antagonism in +Hope, had she not been her sister. Had the ungoverned girl now +been able to utter one word of reproach, had her eyes flashed +one look of defiance, had her hand made one triumphant or angry +gesture, perhaps all Hope's outraged womanhood would have +coldly nerved itself against her. But it was another thing to +see those soft eyes closed, those delicate hands powerless, +those pleading lips sealed; to see her extended in graceful +helplessness, while all the concentrated drama of emotion +revolved around her unheeded, as around Cordelia dead. In what +realms was that child's mind seeking comfort; through what thin +air of dreams did that restless heart beat its pinions; in what +other sphere did that untamed nature wander, while shame and +sorrow waited for its awakening in this? + +Hope knelt upon the floor, still too much strained and +bewildered for tears or even prayer, a little way from Emilia. +Once having laid down the unconscious form, it seemed for a +moment as if she could no more touch it than she could lay her +hand amid flames. A gap of miles, of centuries, of solar +systems, seemed to separate these two young girls, alone within +the same chamber, with the same stern secret to keep, and so +near that the hem of their garments almost touched each other +on the soft carpet. Hope felt a terrible hardness closing over +her heart. What right had this cruel creature, with her fatal +witcheries, to come between two persons who might have been so +wholly happy? What sorrow would be saved, what shame, perhaps, +be averted, should those sweet beguiling eyes never open, and +that perfidious voice never deceive any more? Why tend the +life of one who would leave the whole world happier, purer, +freer, if she were dead? + +In a tumult of thought, Hope went and sat half-unconsciously by +the window. There was nothing to be seen except the steady +beacon of the light-house and a pale-green glimmer, like an +earthly star, from an anchored vessel. The night wind came +softly in, soothing her with a touch like a mother's, in its +grateful coolness. The air seemed full of half-vibrations, +sub-noises, that crowded it as completely as do the insect +sounds of midsummer; yet she could only distinguish the ripple +beneath her feet, and the rote on the distant beach, and the +busy wash of waters against every shore and islet of the bay. +The mist was thick around her, but she knew that above it hung +the sleepless stars, and the fancy came over her that perhaps +the whole vast interval, from ocean up to sky, might be densely +filled with the disembodied souls of her departed human +kindred, waiting to see how she would endure that path of grief +in which their steps had gone before. "It may be from this +influence," she vaguely mused within herself, "that the ocean +derives its endless song of sorrow. Perhaps we shall know the +meaning when we understand that of the stars, and of our own +sad lives." + +She rose again and went to the bedside. It all seemed like a +dream, and she was able to look at Emilia's existence and at +her own and at all else, as if it were a great way off; as we +watch the stars and know that no speculations of ours can reach +those who there live or die untouched. Here beside her lay one +who was dead, yet living, in her temporary trance, and to what +would she wake, when it should end? This young creature had +been sent into the world so fresh, so beautiful, so richly +gifted; everything about her physical organization was so +delicate and lovely; she had seemed like heliotrope, like a +tube-rose in her purity and her passion (who was it said, "No +heart is pure that is not passionate"?); and here was the end! +Nothing external could have placed her where she was, no +violence, no outrage, no evil of another's doing, could have +reached her real life without her own consent; and now what +kind of existence, what career, what possibility of happiness +remained? Why could not God in his mercy take her, and give +her to his holiest angels for schooling, ere it was yet too +late? + +Hope went and sat by the window once more. Her thoughts still +clung heavily around one thought, as the white fog clung round +the house. Where should she see any light? What opening for +extrication, unless, indeed, Emilia should die? There could be +no harm in that thought, for she knew it was not to be, and +that the swoon would not last much longer. Who could devise +anything? No one. There was nothing. Almost always in +perplexities there is some thread by resolutely holding to +which one escapes at last. Here there was none. There could +probably be no concealment, certainly no explanation. In a few +days John Lambert would return, and then the storm must break. +He was probably a stern, jealous man, whose very dulness, once +aroused, would be more formidable than if he had possessed +keener perceptions. + +Still her thoughts did not dwell on Philip. He was simply a +part of that dull mass of pain that beset her and made her +feel, as she had felt when drowning, that her heart had left +her breast and nothing but will remained. She felt now, as +then, the capacity to act with more than her accustomed +resolution, though all that was within her seemed boiling up +into her brain. As for Philip, all seemed a mere negation; +there was a vacuum where his place had been. At most the +thought of him came to her as some strange, vague thrill of +added torture, penetrating her soul and then passing; just as +ever and anon there came the sound of the fog-whistle on +Brenton's Reef, miles away, piercing the dull air with its +shrill and desolate wail, then dying into silence. + +What a hopeless cloud lay upon them all forever,--upon Kate, +upon Harry, upon their whole house! Then there was John +Lambert; how could they keep it from him? how could they tell +him? Who could predict what he would say? Would he take the +worst and coarsest view of his young wife's mad action or the +mildest? Would he be strong or weak; and what would be +weakness, and what strength, in a position so strange? Would +he put Emilia from him, send her out in the world desolate, her +soul stained but by one wrong passion, yet with her reputation +blighted as if there were no good in her? Could he be asked to +shield and protect her, or what would become of her? She was +legally a wife, and could only be separated from him through +convicted shame. + +Then, if separated, she could only marry Philip. Hope nerved +herself to think of that, and it cost less effort than she +expected. + +There seemed a numbness on that side, instead of pain. But +granting that he loved Emilia ever so deeply, was he a man to +surrender his life and his ease and his fair name, in a +hopeless effort to remove the ban that the world would place on +her. Hope knew he would not; knew that even the simple-hearted +and straightforward Harry would be far more capable of such +heroism than the sentimental Malbone. Here the pang suddenly +struck her; she was not so numb, after all! + +As the leaves beside the window drooped motionless in the dank +air, so her mind drooped into a settled depression. She pitied +herself,--that lowest ebb of melancholy self-consciousness. She +went back to Emilia, and, seating herself, studied every line +of the girl's face, the soft texture of her hair, the veining +of her eyelids. They were so lovely, she felt a sort of +physical impulse to kiss them, as if they belonged to some +utter stranger, whom she might be nursing in a hospital. Emilia +looked as innocent as when Hope had tended her in the cradle. +What is there, Hope thought, in sleep, in trance, and in death, +that removes all harsh or disturbing impressions, and leaves +only the most delicate and purest traits? Does the mind +wander, and does an angel keep its place? Or is there really +no sin but in thought, and are our sleeping thoughts incapable +of sin? Perhaps even when we dream of doing wrong, the dream +comes in a shape so lovely and misleading that we never +recognize it for evil, and it makes no stain. Are our lives +ever so pure as our dreams? + +This thought somehow smote across her conscience, always so +strong, and stirred it into a kind of spasm of introspection. +"How selfish have I, too, been!" she thought. "I saw only what +I wished to see, did only what I preferred. Loving Philip" +(for the sudden self-reproach left her free to think of him), +"I could not see that I was separating him from one whom he +might perhaps have truly loved. If he made me blind, may he +not easily have bewildered her, and have been himself +bewildered? How I tried to force myself upon him, too! +Ungenerous, unwomanly! What am I, that I should judge another?" + +She threw herself on her knees at the bedside. + +Still Emilia slept, but now she stirred her head in the +slightest possible way, so that a single tress of silken hair +slipped from its companions, and lay across her face. It was a +faint sign that the trance was waning; the slight pressure +disturbed her nerves, and her lips trembled once or twice, as +if to relieve themselves of the soft annoyance. Hope watched +her in a vague, distant way, took note of the minutest motion, +yet as if some vast weight hung upon her own limbs and made all +interference impossible. Still there was a fascination of +sympathy in dwelling on that atom of discomfort, that tiny +suffering, which she alone could remove. The very vastness of +this tragedy that hung about the house made it an inexpressible +relief to her to turn and concentrate her thoughts for a moment +on this slight distress, so easily ended. + +Strange, by what slender threads our lives are knitted to each +other! Here was one who had taken Hope's whole existence in her +hands, crushed it, and thrown it away. Hope had soberly said +to herself, just before, that death would be better than life +for her young sister. Yet now it moved her beyond endurance to +see that fair form troubled, even while unconscious, by a +feather's weight of pain; and all the lifelong habit of +tenderness resumed in a moment its sway. + +She approached her fingers to the offending tress, very slowly, +half withholding them at the very last, as if the touch would +burn her. She was almost surprised that it did not. She looked +to see if it did not hurt Emilia. But it now seemed as if the +slumbering girl enjoyed the caressing contact of the smooth +fingers, and turned her head, almost imperceptibly, to meet +them. This was more than Hope could bear. It was as if that +slight motion were a puncture to relieve her overburdened +heart; a thousand thoughts swept over her,--of their father, of +her sister's childhood, of her years of absent expectation; she +thought how young the girl was, how fascinating, how +passionate, how tempted; all this swept across her in a great +wave of nervous reaction, and when Emilia returned to +consciousness, she was lying in her sister's arms, her face +bathed in Hope's tears. + + + +XIX. + +DE PROFUNDIS. + +THIS was the history of Emilia's concealed visits to Malbone. + +One week after her marriage, in a crisis of agony, Emilia took +up her pen, dipped it in fire, and wrote thus to him:-- + +"Philip Malbone, why did nobody ever tell me what marriage is +where there is no love? This man who calls himself my husband +is no worse, I suppose, than other men. It is only for being +what is called by that name that I abhor him. Good God! what +am I to do? It was not for money that I married him,--that you +know very well; I cared no more for his money than for himself. +I thought it was the only way to save Hope. She has been very +good to me, and perhaps I should love her, if I could love +anybody. Now I have done what will only make more misery, for I +cannot bear it. Philip, I am alone in this wide world, except +for you. Tell me what to do. I will haunt you till you die, +unless you tell me. Answer this, or I will write again." + +Terrified by this letter, absolutely powerless to guide the +life with which he had so desperately entangled himself, Philip +let one day pass without answering, and that evening he found +Emilia at his door, she having glided unnoticed up the main +stairway. She was so excited, it was equally dangerous to send +her away or to admit her, and he drew her in, darkening the +windows and locking the door. On the whole, it was not so bad +as he expected; at least, there was less violence and more +despair. She covered her face with her hands, and writhed in +anguish, when she said that she had utterly degraded herself by +this loveless marriage. She scarcely mentioned her husband. +She made no complaint of him, and even spoke of him as +generous. It seemed as if this made it worse, and as if she +would be happier if she could expend herself in hating him. She +spoke of him rather as a mere witness to some shame for which +she herself was responsible; bearing him no malice, but +tortured by the thought that he should exist. + +Then she turned on Malbone. "Philip, why did you ever +interfere with my life? I should have been very happy with +Antoine if you had let me marry him, for I never should have +known what it was to love you. Oh! I wish he were here now, +even he,--any one who loved me truly, and whom I could love +only a little. I would go away with such a person anywhere, and +never trouble you and Hope any more. What shall I do? Philip, +you might tell me what to do. Once you told me always to come +to you." + +"What can you do?" he asked gloomily, in return. + +"I cannot imagine," she said, with a desolate look, more +pitiable than passion, on her young face. "I wish to save +Hope, and to save my--to save Mr. Lambert. Philip, you do not +love me. I do not call it love. There is no passion in your +veins; it is only a sort of sympathetic selfishness. Hope is +infinitely better than you are, and I believe she is more +capable of loving. I began by hating her, but if she loves you +as I think she does, she has treated me more generously than +ever one woman treated another. For she could not look at me +and not know that I loved you. I did love you. O Philip, tell +me what to do!" + +Such beauty in anguish, the thrill of the possession of such +love, the possibility of soothing by tenderness the wild mood +which he could not meet by counsel,--it would have taken a +stronger or less sympathetic nature than Malbone's to endure +all this. It swept him away; this revival of passion was +irresistible. When her pent-up feeling was once uttered, she +turned to his love as a fancied salvation. It was a terrible +remedy. She had never looked more beautiful, and yet she seemed +to have grown old at once; her very caresses appeared to burn. +She lingered and lingered, and still he kept her there; and +when it was no longer possible for her to go without disturbing +the house, he led her to a secret spiral stairway, which went +from attic to cellar of that stately old mansion, and which +opened by one or more doors on each landing, as his keen eye +had found out. Descending this, he went forth with her into the +dark and silent night. The mist hung around the house; the wet +leaves fluttered and fell upon their cheeks; the water lapped +desolately against the pier. Philip found a carriage and sent +her back to Mrs. Meredith's, where she was staying during the +brief absence of John Lambert. + +These concealed meetings, once begun, became an absorbing +excitement. She came several times, staying half an hour, an +hour, two hours. They were together long enough for suffering, +never long enough for soothing. It was a poor substitute for +happiness. Each time she came, Malbone wished that she might +never go or never return. His warier nature was feverish with +solicitude and with self-reproach; he liked the excitement of +slight risks, but this was far too intense, the vibrations too +extreme. She, on the other hand, rode triumphant over waves of +passion which cowed him. He dared not exclude her; he dared +not continue to admit her; he dared not free himself; he could +not be happy. The privacy of the concealed stairway saved them +from outward dangers, but not from inward fears. Their +interviews were first blissful, then anxious, then sad, then +stormy. It was at the end of such a storm that Emilia had +passed into one of those deathly calms which belonged to her +physical temperament; and it was under these circumstances that +Hope had followed Philip to the door. + + + +XX. + +AUNT JANE TO THE RESCUE. + +THE thing that saves us from insanity during great grief is +that there is usually something to do, and the mind composes +itself to the mechanical task of adjusting the details. Hope +dared not look forward an inch into the future; that way +madness lay. Fortunately, it was plain what must come +first,--to keep the whole thing within their own walls, and +therefore to make some explanation to Mrs. Meredith, whose +servants had doubtless been kept up all night awaiting Emilia. +Profoundly perplexed what to say or not to say to her, Hope +longed with her whole soul for an adviser. Harry and Kate were +both away, and besides, she shrank from darkening their young +lives as hers had been darkened. She resolved to seek counsel +in the one person who most thoroughly distrusted Emilia,--Aunt +Jane. + +This lady was in a particularly happy mood that day. Emilia, +who did all kinds of fine needle-work exquisitely, had just +embroidered for Aunt Jane some pillow-cases. The original +suggestion came from Hope, but it never cost Emilia anything to +keep a secret, and she had presented the gift very sweetly, as +if it were a thought of her own. Aunt Jane, who with all her +penetration as to facts was often very guileless as to motives, +was thoroughly touched by the humility and the embroidery. + +"All last night," she said, "I kept waking up, and thinking +about Christian charity and my pillow-cases." + +It was, therefore, a very favorable day for Hope's +consultation, though it was nearly noon before her aunt was +visible, perhaps because it took so long to make up her bed +with the new adornments. + +Hope said frankly to Aunt Jane that there were some +circumstances about which she should rather not be questioned, +but that Emilia had come there the previous night from the +ball, had been seized with one of her peculiar attacks, and had +stayed all night. Aunt Jane kept her eyes steadily fixed on +Hope's sad face, and, when the tale was ended, drew her down +and kissed her lips. + +"Now tell me, dear," she said; "what comes first?" + +"The first thing is," said Hope, "to have Emilia's absence +explained to Mrs. Meredith in some such way that she will think +no more of it, and not talk about it." + +"Certainly," said Aunt Jane. "There is but one way to do that. +I will call on her myself." + +"You, auntie?" said Hope. + +"Yes, I," said her aunt. "I have owed her a call for five +years. It is the only thing that will excite her so much as to +put all else out of her head." + +"O auntie!" said Hope, greatly relieved, "if you only would! +But ought you really to go out? It is almost raining." + +"I shall go," said Aunt Jane, decisively, "if it rains little +boys!" + +"But will not Mrs. Meredith wonder--?" began Hope. + +"That is one advantage," interrupted her aunt, "of being an +absurd old woman. Nobody ever wonders at anything I do, or +else it is that they never stop wondering." + +She sent Ruth erelong to order the horses. Hope collected her +various wrappers, and Ruth, returning, got her mistress into a +state of preparation. + +"If I might say one thing more," Hope whispered. + +"Certainly," said her aunt. "Ruth, go to my chamber, and get +me a pin." + +"What kind of a pin, ma'am?" asked that meek handmaiden, from +the doorway. + +"What a question!" said her indignant mistress. "Any kind. The +common pin of North America. Now, Hope?" as the door closed. + +"I think it better, auntie," said Hope, "that Philip should not +stay here longer at present. You can truly say that the house +is full, and--" + +"I have just had a note from him," said Aunt Jane severely. "He +has gone to lodge at the hotel. What next?" + +"Aunt Jane," said Hope, looking her full in the face, "I have +not the slightest idea what to do next." + +("The next thing for me," thought her aunt, "is to have a +little plain speech with that misguided child upstairs.") + +"I can see no way out," pursued Hope. + +"Darling!" said Aunt Jane, with a voice full of womanly +sweetness, "there is always a way out, or else the world would +have stopped long ago. Perhaps it would have been better if it +had stopped, but you see it has not. All we can do is, to live +on and try our best." + +She bade Hope leave Emilia to her, and furthermore stipulated +that Hope should go to her pupils as usual, that afternoon, as +it was their last lesson. The young girl shrank from the +effort, but the elder lady was inflexible. She had her own +purpose in it. Hope once out of the way, Aunt Jane could deal +with Emilia. + +No human being, when met face to face with Aunt Jane, had ever +failed to yield up to her the whole truth she sought. Emilia +was on that day no exception. She was prostrate, languid, +humble, denied nothing, was ready to concede every point but +one. Never, while she lived, would she dwell beneath John +Lambert's roof again. She had left it impulsively, she +admitted, scarce knowing what she did. But she would never +return there to live. She would go once more and see that all +was in order for Mr. Lambert, both in the house and on board +the yacht, where they were to have taken up their abode for a +time. There were new servants in the house, a new captain on +the yacht; she would trust Mr. Lambert's comfort to none of +them; she would do her full duty. Duty! the more utterly she +felt herself to be gliding away from him forever, the more +pains she was ready to lavish in doing these nothings well. +About every insignificant article he owned she seemed to feel +the most scrupulous and wife-like responsibility; while she yet +knew that all she had was to him nothing, compared with the +possession of herself; and it was the thought of this last +ownership that drove her to despair. + +Sweet and plaintive as the child's face was, it had a glimmer +of wildness and a hunted look, that baffled Aunt Jane a little, +and compelled her to temporize. She consented that Emilia +should go to her own house, on condition that she would not see +Philip,--which was readily and even eagerly promised,--and that +Hope should spend the night with Emilia, which proposal was +ardently accepted. + +It occurred to Aunt Jane that nothing better could happen than +for John Lambert, on returning, to find his wife at home; and +to secure this result, if possible, she telegraphed to him to +come at once. + +Meantime Hope gave her inevitable music-lesson, so absorbed in +her own thoughts that it was all as mechanical as the +metronome. As she came out upon the Avenue for the walk home, +she saw a group of people from a gardener's house, who had +collected beside a muddy crossing, where a team of cart-horses +had refused to stir. Presently they sprang forward with a +great jerk, and a little Irish child was thrown beneath the +wheel. Hope sprang forward to grasp the child, and the wheel +struck her also; but she escaped with a dress torn and smeared, +while the cart passed over the little girl's arm, breaking it +in two places. She screamed and then grew faint, as Hope lifted +her. The mother received the burden with a wail of anguish; +the other Irishwomen pressed around her with the dense and +suffocating sympathy of their nation. Hope bade one and another +run for a physician, but nobody stirred. There was no surgical +aid within a mile or more. Hope looked round in despair, then +glanced at her own disordered garments. + +"As sure as you live!" shouted a well-known voice from a +carriage which had stopped behind them. "If that isn't Hope +what's-her-name, wish I may never! Here's a lark! Let me come +there!" And the speaker pushed through the crowd. + +"Miss Ingleside," said Hope, decisively, "this child's arm is +broken. There is nobody to go for a physician. Except for the +condition I am in, I would ask you to take me there at once in +your carriage; but as it is--" + +"As it is, I must ask you, hey?" said Blanche, finishing the +sentence. "Of course. No mistake. Sans dire. Jones, junior, +this lady will join us. Don't look so scared, man. Are you +anxious about your cushions or your reputation?" + +The youth simpered and disclaimed. + +"Jump in, then, Miss Maxwell. Never mind the expense. It's +only the family carriage;--surname and arms of Jones. Lucky +there are no parents to the fore. Put my shawl over you, so." + +"O Blanche!" said Hope, "what injustice--" + +"I've done myself?" said the volatile damsel. "Not a doubt of +it. That's my style, you know. But I have some sense; I know +who's who. Now, Jones, junior, make your man handle the +ribbons. I've always had a grudge against that ordinance about +fast driving, and now's our chance." + +And the sacred "ordinance," with all other proprieties, was +left in ruins that day. They tore along the Avenue with +unexplained and most inexplicable speed, Hope being concealed +by riding backward, and by a large shawl, and Blanche and her +admirer receiving the full indignation of every chaste and +venerable eye. Those who had tolerated all this girl's previous +improprieties were obliged to admit that the line must be drawn +somewhere. She at once lost several good invitations and a +matrimonial offer, since Jones, junior, was swept away by his +parents to be wedded without delay to a consumptive heiress who +had long pined for his whiskers; and Count Posen, in his +Souvenirs, was severer on Blanche's one good deed than on the +worst of her follies. + +A few years after, when Blanche, then the fearless wife of a +regular-army officer, was helping Hope in the hospitals at +Norfolk, she would stop to shout with delight over the +reminiscence of that stately Jones equipage in mad career, amid +the barking of dogs and the groaning of dowagers. "After all, +Hope," she would say, "the fastest thing I ever did was under +your orders." + + + +XXI. + +A STORM. + +THE members of the household were all at the window about noon, +next day, watching the rise of a storm. A murky wing of cloud, +shaped like a hawk's, hung over the low western hills across +the bay. Then the hawk became an eagle, and the eagle a +gigantic phantom, that hovered over half the visible sky. +Beneath it, a little scud of vapor, moved by some cross-current +of air, raced rapidly against the wind, just above the horizon, +like smoke from a battle-field. + +As the cloud ascended, the water grew rapidly blacker, and in +half an hour broke into jets of white foam, all over its +surface, with an angry look. Meantime a white film of fog +spread down the bay from the northward. The wind hauled from +southwest to northwest, so suddenly and strongly that all the +anchored boats seemed to have swung round instantaneously, +without visible process. The instant the wind shifted, the +rain broke forth, filling the air in a moment with its volume, +and cutting so sharply that it seemed like hail, though no +hailstones reached the ground. At the same time there rose upon +the water a dense white film, which seemed to grow together +from a hundred different directions, and was made partly of +rain, and partly of the blown edges of the spray. There was but +a glimpse of this; for in a few moments it was impossible to +see two rods; but when the first gust was over, the water +showed itself again, the jets of spray all beaten down, and +regular waves, of dull lead-color, breaking higher on the +shore. All the depth of blackness had left the sky, and there +remained only an obscure and ominous gray, through which the +lightning flashed white, not red. Boats came driving in from +the mouth of the bay with a rag of sail up; the men got them +moored with difficulty, and when they sculled ashore in the +skiffs, a dozen comrades stood ready to grasp and haul them in. +Others launched skiffs in sheltered places, and pulled out +bareheaded to bail out their fishing-boats and keep them from +swamping at their moorings. + +The shore was thronged with men in oilskin clothes and by women +with shawls over their heads. Aunt Jane, who always felt +responsible for whatever went on in the elements, sat in-doors +with one lid closed, wincing at every flash, and watching the +universe with the air of a coachman guiding six wild horses. + +Just after the storm had passed its height, two veritable wild +horses were reined up at the door, and Philip burst in, his +usual self-composure gone. + +"Emilia is out sailing!" he exclaimed,--"alone with Lambert's +boatman, in this gale. They say she was bound for +Narragansett." + +"Impossible!" cried Hope, turning pale. "I left her not three +hours ago." Then she remembered that Emilia had spoken of going +on board the yacht, to superintend some arrangements, but had +said no more about it, when she opposed it. + +"Harry!" said Aunt Jane, quickly, from her chair by the window, +"see that fisherman. He has just come ashore and is telling +something. Ask him." + +The fisherman had indeed seen Lambert's boat, which was well +known. Something seemed to be the matter with the sail, but +before the storm struck her, it had been hauled down. They +must have taken in water enough, as it was. He had himself +been obliged to bail out three times, running in from the reef. + +"Was there any landing which they could reach?" Harry asked. + +There was none,--but the light-ship lay right in their track, +and if they had good luck, they might get aboard of her. + +"The boatman?" said Philip, anxiously,--"Mr. Lambert's boatman; +is he a good sailor?" + +"Don't know," was the reply. "Stranger here. Dutchman, +Frenchman, Portegee, or some kind of a foreigner." + +"Seems to understand himself in a boat," said another. + +"Mr. Malbone knows him," said a third. "The same that dove +with the young woman under the steamboat paddles." + +"Good grit," said the first. + +"That's so," was the answer. "But grit don't teach a man the +channel." + +All agreed to this axiom; but as there was so strong a +probability that the voyagers had reached the light-ship, there +seemed less cause for fear. + +The next question was, whether it was possible to follow them. +All agreed that it would be foolish for any boat to attempt it, +till the wind had blown itself out, which might be within half +an hour. After that, some predicted a calm, some a fog, some a +renewal of the storm; there was the usual variety of opinions. +At any rate, there might perhaps be an interval during which +they could go out, if the gentlemen did not mind a wet jacket. + +Within the half-hour came indeed an interval of calm, and a +light shone behind the clouds from the west. It faded soon +into a gray fog, with puffs of wind from the southwest again. +When the young men went out with the boatmen, the water had +grown more quiet, save where angry little gusts ruffled it. But +these gusts made it necessary to carry a double reef, and they +made but little progress against wind and tide. + +A dark-gray fog, broken by frequent wind-flaws, makes the +ugliest of all days on the water. A still, pale fog is +soothing; it lulls nature to a kind of repose. But a windy fog +with occasional sunbeams and sudden films of metallic blue +breaking the leaden water,--this carries an impression of +something weird and treacherous in the universe, and suggests +caution. + +As the boat floated on, every sight and sound appeared strange. +The music from the fort came sudden and startling through the +vaporous eddies. A tall white schooner rose instantaneously +near them, like a light-house. They could see the steam of the +factory floating low, seeking some outlet between cloud and +water. As they drifted past a wharf, the great black piles of +coal hung high and gloomy; then a stray sunbeam brought out +their peacock colors; then came the fog again, driving +hurriedly by, as if impatient to go somewhere and enraged at +the obstacle. It seemed to have a vast inorganic life of its +own, a volition and a whim. It drew itself across the horizon +like a curtain; then advanced in trampling armies up the bay; +then marched in masses northward; then suddenly grew thin, and +showed great spaces of sunlight; then drifted across the low +islands, like long tufts of wool; then rolled itself away +toward the horizon; then closed in again, pitiless and gray. + +Suddenly something vast towered amid the mist above them. It +was the French war-ship returned to her anchorage once more, +and seeming in that dim atmosphere to be something spectral and +strange that had taken form out of the elements. The muzzles of +great guns rose tier above tier, along her side; great boats +hung one above another, on successive pairs of davits, at her +stern. So high was her hull, that the topmost boat and the +topmost gun appeared to be suspended in middle air; and yet +this was but the beginning of her altitude. Above these were +the heavy masts, seen dimly through the mist; between these +were spread eight dark lines of sailors' clothes, which, with +the massive yards above, looked like part of some ponderous +framework built to reach the sky. This prolongation of the +whole dark mass toward the heavens had a portentous look to +those who gazed from below; and when the denser fog sometimes +furled itself away from the topgallant masts, hitherto +invisible, and showed them rising loftier yet, and the tricolor +at the mizzen-mast-head looking down as if from the zenith, +then they all seemed to appertain to something of more than +human workmanship; a hundred wild tales of phantom vessels came +up to the imagination, and it was as if that one gigantic +structure were expanding to fill all space from sky to sea. + +They were swept past it; the fog closed in; it was necessary to +land near the Fort, and proceed on foot. They walked across the +rough peninsula, while the mist began to disperse again, and +they were buoyant with expectation. As they toiled onward, the +fog suddenly met them at the turn of a lane where it had +awaited them, like an enemy. As they passed into those gray and +impalpable arms, the whole world changed again. + +They walked toward the sound of the sea. As they approached +it, the dull hue that lay upon it resembled that of the leaden +sky. The two elements could hardly be distinguished except as +the white outlines of the successive breakers were lifted +through the fog. The lines of surf appeared constantly to +multiply upon the beach, and yet, on counting them, there were +never any more. Sometimes, in the distance, masses of foam rose +up like a wall where the horizon ought to be; and, as the +coming waves took form out of the unseen, it seemed as if no +phantom were too vast or shapeless to come rolling in upon +their dusky shoulders. + +Presently a frail gleam of something like the ghost of dead +sunshine made them look toward the west. Above the dim roofs +of Castle Hill mansion-house, the sinking sun showed luridly +through two rifts of cloud, and then the swift motion of the +nearer vapor veiled both sun and cloud, and banished them into +almost equal remoteness. + +Leaving the beach on their right, and passing the high rocks of +the Pirate's Cave, they presently descended to the water's edge +once more. The cliffs rose to a distorted height in the +dimness; sprays of withered grass nodded along the edge, like +Ossian's spectres. Light seemed to be vanishing from the +universe, leaving them alone with the sea. And when a solitary +loon uttered his wild cry, and rising, sped away into the +distance, it was as if life were following light into an equal +annihilation. That sense of vague terror, with which the ocean +sometimes controls the fancy, began to lay its grasp on them. +They remembered that Emilia, in speaking once of her intense +shrinking from death, had said that the sea was the only thing +from which she would not fear to meet it. + +Fog exaggerates both for eye and ear; it is always a +sounding-board for the billows; and in this case, as often +happens, the roar did not appear to proceed from the waves +themselves, but from some source in the unseen horizon, as if +the spectators were shut within a beleaguered fortress, and +this thundering noise came from an impetuous enemy outside. +Ever and anon there was a distinct crash of heavier sound, as +if some special barricade had at length been beaten in, and the +garrison must look to their inner defences. + +The tide was unusually high, and scarcely receded with the ebb, +though the surf increased; the waves came in with constant rush +and wail, and with an ominous rattle of pebbles on the little +beaches, beneath the powerful suction of the undertow; and +there were more and more of those muffled throbs along the +shore which tell of coming danger as plainly as minute-guns. +With these came mingled that yet more inexplicable humming +which one hears at intervals in such times, like strains of +music caught and tangled in the currents of stormy +air,--strains which were perhaps the filmy thread on which +tales of sirens and mermaids were first strung, and in which, +at this time, they would fain recognize the voice of Emilia. + + + +XXII. + +OUT OF THE DEPTHS. + +AS the night closed in, the wind rose steadily, still blowing +from the southwest. In Brenton's kitchen they found a group +round a great fire of driftwood; some of these were fishermen +who had with difficulty made a landing on the beach, and who +confirmed the accounts already given. The boat had been seen +sailing for the Narragansett shore, and when the squall came, +the boatman had lowered and reefed the sail, and stood for the +light-ship. They must be on board of her, if anywhere. + +"There are safe there?" asked Philip, eagerly. + +"Only place where they would be safe, then," said the +spokesman. + +"Unless the light-ship parts," said an old fellow. + +"Parts!" said the other. "Sixty fathom of two-inch chain, and +old Joe talks about parting." + +"Foolish, of course," said Philip; "but it's a dangerous +shore." + +"That's so," was the answer. "Never saw so many lines of reef +show outside, neither." + +"There's an old saying on this shore," said Joe:-- + + + + "When Price's Neck goes to Brenton's Reef, + Body and soul will come to grief. + But when Brenton's Reef comes to Price's Neck, + Soul and body are both a wreck." + + + +"What does it mean?" asked Harry. + +"It only means," said somebody, "that when you see it white all +the way out from the Neck to the Reef, you can't take the +inside passage." + +"But what does the last half mean?" persisted Harry. + +"Don't know as I know," said the veteran, and relapsed into +silence, in which all joined him, while the wind howled and +whistled outside, and the barred windows shook. + +Weary and restless with vain waiting, they looked from the +doorway at the weather. The door went back with a slam, and +the gust swooped down on them with that special blast that +always seems to linger just outside on such nights, ready for +the first head that shows itself. They closed the door upon +the flickering fire and the uncouth shadows within, and went +forth into the night. At first the solid blackness seemed to +lay a weight on their foreheads. There was absolutely nothing +to be seen but the two lights of the light-ship, glaring from +the dark sea like a wolf's eyes from a cavern. They looked +nearer and brighter than in ordinary nights, and appeared to +the excited senses of the young men to dance strangely on the +waves, and to be always opposite to them, as they moved along +the shore with the wind almost at their backs. + +"What did that old fellow mean?" said Malbone in Harry's ear, +as they came to a protected place and could hear each other, +"by talking of Brenton's Reef coming to Price's Neck." + +"Some sailor's doggerel," said Harry, indifferently. "Here is +Price's Neck before us, and yonder is Brenton's Reef." + +"Where?" said Philip, looking round bewildered. + +The lights had gone, as if the wolf, weary of watching, had +suddenly closed his eyes, and slumbered in his cave. + +Harry trembled and shivered. In Heaven's name, what could this +disappearance mean? + +Suddenly a sheet of lightning came, so white and intense, it +sent its light all the way out to the horizon and exhibited +far-off vessels, that reeled and tossed and looked as if +wandering without a guide. But this was not so startling as +what it showed in the foreground. + +There drifted heavily upon the waves, within full view from the +shore, moving parallel to it, yet gradually approaching, an +uncouth shape that seemed a vessel and yet not a vessel; two +stunted masts projected above, and below there could be read, +in dark letters that apparently swayed and trembled in the wan +lightning, as the thing moved on, + + BRENTON'S REEF. + +Philip, leaning against a rock, gazed into the darkness where +the apparition had been; even Harry felt a thrill of +half-superstitious wonder, and listened half mechanically to a +rough sailor's voice at his ear:-- + +"God! old Joe was right. There's one wreck that is bound to +make many. The light-ship has parted." + +"Drifting ashore," said Harry, his accustomed clearness of head +coming back at a flash. "Where will she strike?" + +"Price's Neck," said the sailor. + +Harry turned to Philip and spoke to him, shouting in his ear +the explanation. Malbone's lips moved mechanically, but he said +nothing. Passively, he let Harry take him by the arm, and lead +him on. + +Following the sailor, they rounded a projecting point, and +found themselves a little sheltered from the wind. Not knowing +the region, they stumbled about among the rocks, and scarcely +knew when they neared the surf, except when a wave came +swashing round their very feet. Pausing at the end of a cove, +they stood beside their conductor, and their eyes, now grown +accustomed, could make out vaguely the outlines of the waves. + +The throat of the cove was so shoal and narrow, and the mass of +the waves so great, that they reared their heads enormously, +just outside, and spending their strength there, left a lower +level within the cove. Yet sometimes a series of great billows +would come straight on, heading directly for the entrance, and +then the surface of the water within was seen to swell suddenly +upward as if by a terrible inward magic of its own; it rose and +rose, as if it would ingulf everything; then as rapidly sank, +and again presented a mere quiet vestibule before the excluded +waves. + +They saw in glimpses, as the lightning flashed, the shingly +beach, covered with a mass of creamy foam, all tremulous and +fluctuating in the wind; and this foam was constantly torn away +by the gale in great shreds, that whirled by them as if the +very fragments of the ocean were fleeing from it in terror, to +take refuge in the less frightful element of air. + +Still the wild waves reared their heads, like savage, crested +animals, now white, now black, looking in from the entrance of +the cove. And now there silently drifted upon them something +higher, vaster, darker than themselves,--the doomed vessel. It +was strange how slowly and steadily she swept in,--for her +broken chain-cable dragged, as it afterwards proved, and kept +her stern-on to the shore,--and they could sometimes hear amid +the tumult a groan that seemed to come from the very heart of +the earth, as she painfully drew her keel over hidden reefs. +Over five of these (as was afterwards found) she had already +drifted, and she rose and fell more than once on the high waves +at the very mouth of the cove, like a wild bird hovering ere it +pounces. + +Then there came one of those great confluences of waves +described already, which, lifting her bodily upward, higher and +higher and higher, suddenly rushed with her into the basin, +filling it like an opened dry-dock, crashing and roaring round +the vessel and upon the rocks, then sweeping out again and +leaving her lodged, still stately and steady, at the centre of +the cove. + +They could hear from the crew a mingled sound, that came as a +shout of excitement from some and a shriek of despair from +others. The vivid lightning revealed for a moment those on +shipboard to those on shore; and blinding as it was, it lasted +long enough to show figures gesticulating and pointing. The old +sailor, Mitchell, tried to build a fire among the rocks nearest +the vessel, but it was impossible, because of the wind. This +was a disappointment, for the light would have taken away half +the danger, and more than half the terror. Though the cove was +more quiet than the ocean, yet it was fearful enough, even +there. The vessel might hold together till morning, but who +could tell? It was almost certain that those on board would try +to land, and there was nothing to do but to await the effort. +The men from the farmhouse had meanwhile come down with ropes. + +It was simply impossible to judge with any accuracy of the +distance of the ship. One of these new-comers, who declared +that she was lodged very near, went to a point of rocks, and +shouted to those on board to heave him a rope. The tempest +suppressed his voice, as it had put out the fire. But perhaps +the lightning had showed him to the dark figures on the stern; +for when the next flash came, they saw a rope flung, which fell +short. The real distance was more than a hundred yards. + +Then there was a long interval of darkness. The moment the +next flash came they saw a figure let down by a rope from the +stern of the vessel, while the hungry waves reared like wolves +to seize it. Everybody crowded down to the nearest rocks, +looking this way and that for a head to appear. They pressed +eagerly in every direction where a bit of plank or a +barrel-head floated; they fancied faint cries here and there, +and went aimlessly to and fro. A new effort, after half a dozen +failures, sent a blaze mounting up fitfully among the rocks, +startling all with the sudden change its blessed splendor made. +Then a shrill shout from one of the watchers summoned all to a +cleft in the cove, half shaded from the firelight, where there +came rolling in amidst the surf, more dead than alive, the body +of a man. He was the young foreigner, John Lambert's boatman. +He bore still around him the rope that was to save the rest. + +How pale and eager their faces looked as they bent above him! +But the eagerness was all gone from his, and only the pallor +left. While the fishermen got the tackle rigged, such as it +was, to complete the communication with the vessel, the young +men worked upon the boatman, and soon had him restored to +consciousness. He was able to explain that the ship had been +severely strained, and that all on board believed she would go +to pieces before morning. No one would risk being the first to +take the water, and he had at last volunteered, as being the +best swimmer, on condition that Emilia should be next sent, +when the communication was established. + +Two ropes were then hauled on board the vessel, a larger and a +smaller. By the flickering firelight and the rarer flashes of +lightning (the rain now falling in torrents) they saw a hammock +slung to the larger rope; a woman's form was swathed in it; and +the smaller rope being made fast to this, they found by pulling +that she could be drawn towards the shore. Those on board +steadied the hammock as it was lowered from the ship, but the +waves seemed maddened by this effort to escape their might, and +they leaped up at her again and again. The rope dropped beneath +her weight, and all that could be done from shore was to haul +her in as fast as possible, to abbreviate the period of +buffeting and suffocation. As she neared the rocks she could be +kept more safe from the water; faster and faster she was drawn +in; sometimes there came some hitch and stoppage, but by steady +patience it was overcome. + +She was so near the rocks that hands were already stretched to +grasp her, when there came one of the great surging waves that +sometimes filled the basin. It gave a terrible lurch to the +stranded vessel hitherto so erect; the larger rope snapped +instantly; the guiding rope was twitched from the hands that +held it; and the canvas that held Emilia was caught and swept +away like a shred of foam, and lost amid the whiteness of the +seething froth below. Fifteen minutes after, the hammock came +ashore empty, the lashings having parted. + +The cold daybreak was just opening, though the wind still blew +keenly, when they found the body of Emilia. It was swathed in +a roll of sea-weed, lying in the edge of the surf, on a broad, +flat rock near where the young boatman had come ashore. The +face was not disfigured; the clothing was only torn a little, +and tangled closely round her; but the life was gone. + +It was Philip who first saw her; and he stood beside her for a +moment motionless, stunned into an aspect of tranquility. +This, then, was the end. All his ready sympathy, his wooing +tenderness, his winning compliances, his self-indulgent +softness, his perilous amiability, his reluctance to give pain +or to see sorrow,--all had ended in this. For once, he must +force even his accommodating and evasive nature to meet the +plain, blank truth. Now all his characteristics appeared +changed by the encounter; it was Harry who was ready, +thoughtful, attentive,--while Philip, who usually had all these +traits, was paralyzed among his dreams. Could he have fancied +such a scene beforehand, he would have vowed that no hand but +his should touch the breathless form of Emilia. As it was, he +instinctively made way for the quick gathering of the others, +as if almost any one else had a better right to be there. + +The storm had blown itself out by sunrise; the wind had +shifted, beating down the waves; it seemed as if everything in +nature were exhausted. The very tide had ebbed away. The +light-ship rested between the rocks, helpless, still at the +mercy of the returning waves, and yet still upright and with +that stately look of unconscious pleading which all shipwrecked +vessels wear. it is wonderfully like the look I have seen in +the face of some dead soldier, on whom war had done its worst. +Every line of a ship is so built for motion, every part, while +afloat, seems so full of life and so answering to the human +life it bears, that this paralysis of shipwreck touches the +imagination as if the motionless thing had once been animated +by a soul. + +And not far from the vessel, in a chamber of the seaside +farm-house, lay the tenderer and fairer wreck of Emilia. Her +storms and her passions were ended. The censure of the world, +the anguish of friends, the clinging arms of love, were nothing +now to her. Again the soft shelter of unconsciousness had +clasped her in; but this time the trance was longer and the +faintness was unto death. + +From the moment of her drifting ashore, it was the young +boatman who had assumed the right to care for her and to direct +everything. Philip seemed stunned; Harry was his usual +clear-headed and efficient self; but to his honest eyes much +revealed itself in a little while; and when Hope arrived in the +early morning, he said to her, "This boatman, who once saved +your life, is Emilia's Swiss lover, Antoine Marval." + +"More than lover," said the young Swiss, overhearing. "She was +my wife before God, when you took her from me. In my country, +a betrothal is as sacred as a marriage. Then came that man, he +filled her heart with illusions, and took her away in my +absence. When my brother was here in the corvette, he found her +for me. Then I came for her; I saved her sister; then I saw the +name on the card and would not give my own. I became her +servant. She saw me in the yacht, only once; she knew me; she +was afraid. Then she said, 'Perhaps I still love you,--a +little; I do not know; I am in despair; take me from this home +I hate.' We sailed that day in the small boat for +Narragansett,--I know not where. She hardly looked up or +spoke; but for me, I cared for nothing since she was with me. +When the storm came, she was frightened, and said, 'It is a +retribution.' I said, 'You shall never go back.' She never +did. Here she is. You cannot take her from me." + +Once on board the light-ship, she had been assigned the +captain's state-room, while Antoine watched at the door. She +seemed to shrink from him whenever he went to speak to her, he +owned, but she answered kindly and gently, begging to be left +alone. When at last the vessel parted her moorings, he +persuaded Emilia to come on deck and be lashed to the mast, +where she sat without complaint. + +Who can fathom the thoughts of that bewildered child, as she +sat amid the spray and the howling of the blast, while the +doomed vessel drifted on with her to the shore? Did all the +error and sorrow of her life pass distinctly before her? Or did +the roar of the surf lull her into quiet, like the unconscious +kindness of wild creatures that toss and bewilder their prey +into unconsciousness ere they harm it? None can tell. Death +answers no questions; it only makes them needless. + +The morning brought to the scene John Lambert, just arrived by +land from New York. + +The passion of John Lambert for his wife was of that kind which +ennobles while it lasts, but which rarely outlasts marriage. A +man of such uncongenial mould will love an enchanting woman +with a mad, absorbing passion, where self-sacrifice is so +mingled with selfishness that the two emotions seem one; he +will hungrily yearn to possess her, to call her by his own +name, to hold her in his arms, to kill any one else who claims +her. But when she is once his wife, and his arms hold a body +without a soul,--no soul at least for him,--then her image is +almost inevitably profaned, and the passion which began too +high for earth ends far too low for heaven. Let now death +change that form to marble, and instantly it resumes its virgin +holiness; though the presence of life did not sanctify, its +departure does. It is only the true lover to whom the breathing +form is as sacred as the breathless. + +That ideality of nature which love had developed in this man, +and which had already drooped a little during his brief period +of marriage, was born again by the side of death. While Philip +wandered off silent and lonely with his grief, John Lambert +knelt by the beautiful remains, talking inarticulately, his +eyes streaming with unchecked tears. Again was Emilia, in her +marble paleness, the calm centre of a tragedy she herself had +caused. The wild, ungoverned child was the image of peace; it +was the stolid and prosperous man who was in the storm. It was +not till Hope came that there was any change. Then his +prostrate nature sought hers, as the needle leaps to the iron; +the first touch of her hand, the sight of her kiss upon +Emilia's forehead, made him strong. It was the thorough +subjection of a worldly man to the higher organization of a +noble woman, and thenceforth it never varied. In later years, +after he had foolishly sought, as men will, to win her to a +nearer tie, there was no moment when she had not full control +over his time, his energies, and his wealth. + +After it was all ended, Hope told him everything that had +happened; but in that wild moment of his despair she told him +nothing. Only she and Harry knew the story of the young Swiss; +and now that Emilia was gone, her early lover had no wish to +speak of her to any but these two, or to linger long where she +had been doubly lost to him, by marriage and by death. The +world, with all its prying curiosity, usually misses the key to +the very incidents about which it asks most questions; and of +the many who gossiped or mourned concerning Emilia, none knew +the tragic complication which her death alone could have +solved. The breaking of Hope's engagement to Philip was +attributed to every cause but the true one. And when the storm +of the great Rebellion broke over the land, its vast calamity +absorbed all minor griefs. + + + +XXIII. + +REQUIESCAT. + +THANK God! it is not within the power of one man's errors to +blight the promise of a life like that of Hope. It is but a +feeble destiny that is wrecked by passion, when it should be +ennobled. Aunt Jane and Kate watched Hope closely during her +years of probation, for although she fancied herself to be +keeping her own counsel, yet her career lay in broad light for +them. She was like yonder sailboat, which floats conspicuous by +night amid the path of moonbeams, and which yet seems to its +own voyagers to be remote and unseen upon a waste of waves. + +Why should I linger over the details of her life, after the +width of ocean lay between her and Malbone, and a manhood of +self-denying usefulness had begun to show that even he could +learn something by life's retributions? We know what she was, +and it is of secondary importance where she went or what she +did. Kindle the light of the light-house, and it has nothing +to do, except to shine. There is for it no wrong direction. +There is no need to ask, "How? Over which especial track of +distant water must my light go forth, to find the wandering +vessel to be guided in?" It simply shines. Somewhere there is +a ship that needs it, or if not, the light does its duty. So +did Hope. + +We must leave her here. Yet I cannot bear to think of her as +passing through earthly life without tasting its deepest bliss, +without the last pure ecstasy of human love, without the kisses +of her own children on her lips, their waxen fingers on her +bosom. + +And yet again, is this life so long? May it not be better to +wait until its little day is done, and the summer night of old +age has yielded to a new morning, before attaining that acme of +joy? Are there enough successive grades of bliss for all +eternity, if so much be consummated here? Must all novels end +with an earthly marriage, and nothing be left for heaven? + +Perhaps, for such as Hope, this life is given to show what +happiness might be, and they await some other sphere for its +fulfilment. The greater part of the human race live out their +mortal years without attaining more than a far-off glimpse of +the very highest joy. Were this life all, its very happiness +were sadness. If, as I doubt not, there be another sphere, +then that which is unfulfilled in this must yet find +completion, nothing omitted, nothing denied. And though a +thousand oracles should pronounce this thought an idle dream, +neither Hope nor I would believe them. + +It was a radiant morning of last February when I walked across +the low hills to the scene of the wreck. Leaving the road +before reaching the Fort, I struck across the wild +moss-country, full of boulders and footpaths and stunted cedars +and sullen ponds. I crossed the height of land, where the +ruined lookout stands like the remains of a Druidical temple, +and then went down toward the ocean. Banks and ridges of snow +lay here and there among the fields, and the white lines of +distant capes seemed but drifts running seaward. The ocean was +gloriously alive,--the blackest blue, with white caps on every +wave; the shore was all snowy, and the gulls were flying back +and forth in crowds; you could not tell whether they were the +white waves coming ashore, or bits of snow going to sea. A +single fragment of ship-timber, black with time and weeds, and +crusty with barnacles, heaved to and fro in the edge of the +surf, and two fishermen's children, a boy and girl, tilted upon +it as it moved, clung with the semblance of terror to each +other, and played at shipwreck. + +The rocks were dark with moisture, steaming in the sun. Great +sheets of ice, white masks of departing winter, clung to every +projecting cliff, or slid with crash and shiver into the surge. +Icicles dropped their slow and reverberating tears upon the +rock where Emilia once lay breathless; and it seemed as if +their cold, chaste drops were sent to cleanse from her memory +each scarlet stain, and leave it virginal and pure. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Malbone: An Oldport Romance + diff --git a/old/malbn10.zip b/old/malbn10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3042790 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/malbn10.zip |