IN THE RED CROSS SERVICE.
In this age of the world, distance is no object, and Octavia was soon
in the bosom of her family, and would follow that career, which God in
His Providence would work out for her.
Simon and Elsie were proud of Octavia, as they had a right to be. She
had just graduated with highest honors from one of the foremost
Northern seminaries, and had brought home a lot of prizes, some of them
valuable.
She was beautiful and didn't know it; accomplished, without
ostentation; and was modest, gentle, courteous and dignified.
Brutus, who was still in Simon's employ as servant, and kept in a
servant's place, frequently said, that if he didn't know to the
contrary, he would say that Octavia, "wuz a sho' nuff white 'oman."
Of course she had to tell her uncle and mother about the lawyers
fighting a duel about her; of one getting killed, and the other
wounded; and she the innocent cause. Simon consoled her with the fact
that she was at home now, and could seclude herself, if she so desired,
and not be molested by men. She said she could not live the life of a
hermit, regardless of what the men thought of her.
They then told her of the diamond ring occurrence, and that they had
purposely kept it from her while at school, and determined to await her
return, when they could explain the matter better, orally.
Not long after her return, she was in Simon's store, and Elsie's
attorney happened to come in. Simon, in an humble, courteous way
introduced his niece to the attorney, as "Octavia," who had just
graduated with distinguished honors, from the foremost seminary in the
North. Both acknowledged the introduction with a bow, after which,
Octavia left the store, and the attorney, after making some purchases,
doing the same. That was a brief meeting, but Cupid had put in his
work. The attorney on his way home determined, if he could, to know
more of this lovely being. It must be said here, that the attorney had
heard of her beauty and accomplishments, and of her lowly birth, and
having one-eighth African blood coursing through her veins. The next
day he was in Simon's store again, and remarked that he would like to
hear his niece play and sing, and to examine her art collection. Simon
said he would be pleased to have him do so, and thought that his niece
would make no objection. He said he would be around after tea to enjoy
this pleasure. Will wonders never cease? Here was one of the leading
attorneys of the city, and purest of the pure Caucasians, becoming
smitten with an octoroon. Simon then reminded him of the social
barriers that existed and of the effect it might have on his practice,
and on him socially. He left the store, remarking "Society be d----."
At supper, Simon told his niece that the attorney would be there to
hear her play and sing, and to inspect her art collection. She said
that it must not be a social call. Simon went back to his store,
thinking a lot, but saying nothing. He had been in public business so
long, that he could read human character almost like a book. He was
satisfied in his mind that Elsie's attorney had succumbed to Octavia's
charms, and he would await developments with anxiety.
This attorney was young and handsome and already had gained a lucrative
practice at the bar, and was still adding fame to his laurels.
Notwithstanding her short acquaintance, Octavia confessed secretly that
she was favorably impressed with him, but at the same time, she knew
that social barriers would prevent his paying her and she receiving his
attentions.
At the appointed time, he was ringing the bell for admittance, which
was answered by Elsie, who invited him into the parlor.
Octavia soon came in, when he told her that he had come to have the
pleasure of hearing her play and sing, and to inspect her art
collection. She gave him a cordial greeting, saying that he flattered
her, but, that if she had any talent for music and art, he was welcome
to witness and hear the same. He expressed himself as delighted with
her paintings; and then requested her to play and sing. She rendered
her graduating recital in music, on the piano. He thought it grand and
magnificent, and requested her to sing, which she did, using the organ
first, and then, guitar, as an accompaniment.
He was charmed, and said that he had never heard her equal. That her
voice was sweet, but not inaudible; melodious, but not husky; loud, but
not boisterous; clear and harmonious; and that but few prima donnas,
who were delighting thousands, by their voices on the stage, came up to
her standard of singing.
On leaving, he asked the pleasure of again calling, that he had often
heard of her, but had not had the pleasure of meeting her until their
brief introduction the day before at her uncle's store--but, that now,
he had come, seen and heard, and was conquered.
He said that like the "Queen of Sheba," he could also say, that "the
half had not been told." She politely replied that the proprieties of
Southern social life would not permit a social call from him on her,
but that if it was any pleasure, he might come and hear her play and
sing, and to inspect her paintings--he might do so, but not in a social
way. He thanked her, and left, and on his way home, hurled anathemas
against social laws, so far as they separated him and Octavia. Of
course, he knew it would not do for the races to intermingle and
commingle, indiscriminately. But Octavia was so near pure white, that
it amounted to "a distinction without a difference." That he was
passionately in love with Octavia there was no doubt. What must he do?
What would the effect of these visits, if known, have on his practice?
He was not wholly indifferent to public opinion, and while he knew what
the opinion would be, he was determined to hear Octavia play and sing,
let the consequences be what they may.
The attorney was not the only Caucasian who had succumbed to Octavia's
charms. A wealthy real estate agent, and president of the local bank,
was in the same predicament. He had repeatedly sought an introduction,
but had never been able to reach the goal of his desires.
The attorney saw Simon, and asked him to say to his niece that he would
come at 8 P.M., to hear some more of her singing. Simon did so.
Whereat, she was pleased as well as sad. She cared more for the
attorney than she was willing to admit. At the same time she knew that
it was wrong, socially, for a white man to be making visits to her
uncle's house. The public might think that his visits were purely on
business, as he had been her mother's successful attorney. But, if
they continued, their object would soon be found out. "You may fool
all the people awhile, but you can't fool some of the people all the
while." When the attorney came, she had on her "best bib and tucker,"
and never looked lovelier. Whether she wanted to make an additional
impression, or not, on the attorney, the fact is she did. He came, saw
and heard again, and was charmed and chained to the spot by her
loveliness. He had often heard of Eden--he had found it. He did not
see how there could be a more attractive paradise elsewhere. If
allowed, he would remain--he was not like Mahomet, who, it is said,
after a long hot day's journey over the desert sands, came in sight
(just as the sun, as it were, was going down into the Mediterranean) of
Damascus, surrounded by a desert and situated on those beautiful
rivers, Pharpar and Abana,--Damascus, in which were bubbling fountains,
gardens of olives, dates, figs, oranges and all manner of tropical
fruits; streets shaded by royal palms, dotted here and there, with
magnificent mosques with their lofty minarets, and lovely dwellings.
This, after his weary, hot day's journey, was a charming sight, an
enchanting spectacle; how he longed to slake his thirst from those
bubbling springs, and bathe in those cool fountains, and then rest
under those royal palms, or appease his hunger, by eating of those
tropical fruits. He was tempted to enter, but after gazing longingly,
he said, "it was ordained for man to enter paradise but once," and
turned around and retraced his journey. With the attorney, it was
different; he had entered this paradise, and knew he had to leave, but
how? He arose to do so, and before he was aware of it, he was on his
knees before the fair Octavia. He declared his love with all the
fervor and ardor of a Castilian, and asked her heart and hand in
marriage. He had successfully pleaded the case of her mother, on a
false charge; might he not be as successful in pleading his case before
her, who was judge, counsel and jury?--his charge was true, that he
loved her, adored her, worshipped her. She listened patiently until he
finished, and then bade him rise and be seated. Like a chained
captive, he obeyed. She then in a cool, quiet, dignified manner told
him that she entertained feelings for him that she did not for any
other man, and which she supposed writers of romance would call love,
but that he knew and she knew that there was a social chasm between
them, that could not be bridged--that both knew that the laws of the
State were very stringent against the races intermarrying, and that it
was wrong for him to propose, or for her to accept. Being a lawyer, he
pleaded that it might be a legal wrong, but that there was no moral
wrong, and to get around this legal objection, they could soon go to a
State that had no laws on the subject. She then told him of her humble
birth--that of a slave--and of her life afterwards. He replied that he
knew all, but that that did not have a feather's weight with him--that
it was not birth, wealth or environment that made noble men or women;
but that it was true worth and merit, modesty, beauty, accomplishments,
gentleness and dignity, all of which she possessed to a most marked
degree. She replied that she was created under the present
environments and whether it was fortunate or unfortunate for her, she
must submit to it, and that it would be wrong to question the wisdom or
unwisdom as to how she was brought into existence. She then told the
attorney that her future career would be one of mercy; that she thought
it her duty to ameliorate as far as possible, the sufferings of
mankind, and that she had decided before graduation, the Lord
permitting, to join the Red Cross Society, and asked to be sent to
Europe, for a position with the Russian Army, that was then waging war
against Turkey. She hated to leave home--her mother, uncle--and as to
friends, she had none.
The attorney protested that he was her friend, lover, and would be her
husband, whenever she said the word. She insisted that it would be
better for them to part; but, that when in a foreign land, she would if
it afforded any pleasure, carry on a friendly correspondence with him.
He thanked her, telling her that that would be one grain of comfort;
but begged her to reconsider, and not bury herself, as it were, in
nursing those despicable Cossacks and Turks.
She said her decision was unalterable. With this, he took his leave,
fearing she might never return. He consoled himself with the thought
that she loved him, and if she ever returned, he would still have hopes
of winning her. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." Once get
a woman to love a man, and all obstacles will as a rule be overcome.