"She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore to be won."
Henry VI.
----"Bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose, with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell."
Childe Harold.
Della sat in her large chair, before the dressing-glass, with her
delicate feet buried in the rich softness of a velvet cushion; her hands
were folded in her lap, and her eyes fixed upon Minny's face, which was
clearly reflected in the mirror, as she stood behind her mistress,
arranging the shining bands of long fair hair.
"Minny, how very, _very_ white you are! How came you to be so white,
when your mother is the blackest slave papa owns?"
A scarlet flush rose to the quadroon's cheek.
"My father, Miss, was as white as your own."
"Were you born here, Minn?"
"My mother was in your father's service when she gave me birth, Miss
Della. Will you have your bandeaux single or double for this evening?"
"Double, Minn, so the wreath can lie nicely in between; and make those
braids as rich as possible. I wish to look my best to-night. You have
always lived here since you were born, Minn?--was a baby when I was a
baby?"
"Yes, my dear Miss, and my mother was your nurse; your own mother not
liking to spoil her figure by nursing her child, you were put to my
mother's breast. So mother tells me."
"Well, if you had been a white child, that would have made us
foster-sisters, wouldn't it? That's the reason old Mag loves me so well.
I never knew of this before."
"It's something very common here, you know, Miss, for white children to
have their foster-mothers among the slaves. Fashionable ladies always
think it ruins their forms to have a child at the breast."
"Yes, I know, Minn; and I think it a very shameful practice, too. I
never want to be a fashionable woman, if it is going to deprive me of
performing a mother's holiest offices for my children. I'm sure after a
child of mine had been reared at a black mother's breast I should feel
they were black children, had black blood in their veins, and I never
could feel right toward them again."
"You are one in a thousand, dear Miss Della; and such feelings are
right, and good, and noble. But if you ever wish to be truly a mother to
your children, don't marry a fashionable man, whose pride will be to
show you off all the time in gay company, and who will be always
fretting to keep your beauty good. It is such husbands that make bad
mothers. A woman can't be a votary of fashion and a good mother."
"I never shall marry a fashionable man, Minny--you _know_ that; but when
I _do_ marry I shall try and be a good, and true, and dutiful wife,
nothing more. I haven't a taste for high life--that is, gay life, which
has no heart in it. But, Minny, let's go back to you; I commenced about
you; what made you change the subject, child?"
"Did I, Miss?"
"Yes. Who was your father, Minny?"
Minny's cheek lost it's flush, and became pale as death.
"I cannot tell you, Miss."
"But you _know_."
Minny made no answer, but her hands shook violently, and the braids she
had just fastened fell loose again from her trembling fingers.
"What ails you, Minn? why don't you answer me?" said Della, looking up
earnestly at Minny, in the glass.
"I never told you a lie in the world, Miss Della; and I don't answer you
because I can't tell the truth now."
"You _must_ tell me if you know, Minny; and you must tell the truth,
too."
"Oh, Miss Della," said the girl, sinking at her mistress's feet in a fit
of wild weeping, "don't, don't ask me this. I never knew it myself till
yesterday, and then I wrung it from my mother, who charged me, if I
valued her life, never to lisp it again. It made me wretched. Oh, Miss
Della, it would kill you."
"Kill me? How can it affect me, silly child? What nonsense."
Della lifted up the beautiful head which was bowed before her, and
turned the pallid face toward her own.
"Tell me, you foolish one," she persisted, her curiosity fully aroused.
"I must and will know about it now;" and she stamped her little foot
with an air of command, which, toward her favorite, was very rarely
assumed.
Minny pressed her hands, clasped one upon the other, hard against her
heart, as if its throbbing was painful, and raised her eyes, full of a
strange, wild light, to her mistress's face.
"I would sooner die than tell you, Miss."
There might have been something in that agonized look that called forth
emotion, or there might have been something in that cold, fixed gaze,
which stamped for the instant the father on that upturned, ashy face;
for as she met the glance, Della suddenly clasped her hands to her face,
and, with an exclamation of horror, fell back fainting.
Minny sprang wildly to her feet--"Oh, Miss Della!" she exclaimed, as
she bent over the senseless form before her, pouring out her passionate
accents as if there was an ear to hear them. "Oh, Miss Della, how could
you crave this knowledge to-day, of all other days? Had it been
yesterday morning, or ever before in all our life here together, I would
not have known, and you would have never known. To-day, of all days! Oh,
I have broken this poor, sensitive heart; woe is me, woe is me! Oh, if I
had only died before I learned this dreadful secret, only died! only
died!"
With trembling hands, and eyes raining down their gushing tears, Minny
bathed the pale brow, and brought rare perfumes, and chafed the little
hands.
"Miss Della! Miss Della! I knew it would kill you--and you only guessed;
I never told you--oh, no, never, never, never!"
Slowly Della returned to consciousness, and as her eyes unclosed, they
fell upon the agonized face of her weeping attendant. She closed them
quickly, and raised her hand so as to wave her from her sight, but it
dropped listlessly back into her lap, and she lay still in the large
chair, apparently as weak and helpless as an infant.
"Oh, Miss Della! God forgive me for what I have done, though I never
meant to do it--never thought to do it. What could have turned your
thoughts on this to-day?"
"Go away," murmured Della, faintly; "go away, so that I may open my eyes
and not see you."
Minny moved a few paces back.
"I can see you in the glass yet; go away so that I can't see you
anywhere, Minn."
Weeping bitterly, Minny retired to the other apartment; and Della, with
folded hands, sat quite still with downcast eyes and pallid cheeks,
looking like a statue of meditation.
A little French clock upon the mantle-piece struck the hour, and went on
with its monotonous tick, tick--that unobtrusive voice of warning and
admonition--until the half hour was sweetly chimed, and still Della sat
there, pale, and still thinking. At length she rose, and with an energy
unusual with her, walked hastily back and forth across the room. It had
a soothing effect, and her brow was calm and resolute, yet shadowed as
if with some new lesson of life, harshly forced upon her. She seated
herself once more before the mirror.
"Minny, I am ready for you now."
Minny came, with her face calm and corpse-like, and once more essayed to
bind up the rich bands of hair.
"Place my wreath a little more front. My cheek needs the shade of that
bright rose to relieve its pallor--so--that effect is charming."
"Your hair is dressed, Miss."
Della sprang to her feet like one who resolutely tossed some load from
the heart, and taking the hand-mirror from the table, surveyed the
arrangement of her hair altogether.
"Beautiful! Minny, you have excelled yourself to-night."
"Thank you, Miss. What dress?"
"My India mull, and the rose-colored ribbons."
The dress was brought, and Della stood before the full-length mirror
while Minny fastened it.
"Tie my shoulder-knots in your prettiest manner, Minny."
"Yes, Miss; and my reward shall be a rehearsal of the list of
conquests?"
"I suppose so," smiled Della; "Minn, I pet you a great deal too much."
"I know it, Miss; and make me love you a great deal too well."
Della sighed.
At this moment there was a tap at the door, and Mrs. Delancey, in full
evening costume, entered the room.
"Most ready, dort, darling?"
"Yes, mamma, I will be down in a few minutes."
"You look very sweetly in that simple dress; what prompted you to choose
that to-night, treasure?"
"An instinctive knowledge, I presume, mamma, that I would look very
sweetly in it," replied Della, archly.
Mrs. Delancey was a fine-looking woman--very fussy and very French. She
smiled, and displayed her brilliant teeth at her daughter's answer, then
stooped, and kissed her brow. Mrs. Delancey loved her child, with all
the strength of affection she was capable of feeling. She was even first
in her heart in some moments of pride and ambition, and second never,
save to her love of fashion and display.
"Clasp this string of pearls about your throat, it will relieve the
plainness of your attire."
"I'd rather not have it relieved, mamma."
"What a strange whim," returned the lady, proceeding to fasten on the
necklace.
As the toilet was declared finished, Mrs. Delancey stepped back to
observe the effect.
"_Charmante, ma chere!_" she exclaimed. "Remember, love, your father and
I wish you to be particularly agreeable to General Delville this
evening. He is a splendid match, rich as a Jew, and of such fine
family!"
"He is the gentleman who was of age when papa was born, isn't he,
mamma?"
"Hush, child; what of that! He may be a little old, but all the
better--you'll be left a charming young widow the sooner."
Della lifted a bracelet from the table, and fell to examining it with
the closest inspection, while her little satin-slippered foot kept up an
unconscious, nervous tapping upon the carpet.
Mrs. Delancey looked at her watch--"Nine o'clock, Della; the guests will
begin to arrive, shortly. You need not come down till your father comes
for you. Remember, _ma chere_, General Delville, particularly."
So saying, the proud mother swept from the apartment.
As the door closed upon her, Della stepped through the open window, and
passed out upon the balcony. Minny busied herself with putting aside the
jewels which had not been wanted, and other unnecessary articles of
dress, which the capricious fancy of her mistress had drawn from their
proper places during the process of preparation.
A half hour passed before Mr. Delancey sought his daughter's apartment;
when he entered, Della was seated gracefully on an ottoman, arranging a
bouquet of orange flowers and mignonnette. It was a sweet picture, and
the father stopped to look upon it.
Della looked up, and her eye went quickly from her father's to Minny's
face, then dropped again upon her flowers.
"Are you ready, Della?"
"One minute, papa."
"You are looking very lovely to-night, my daughter. Be careful and have
your manners to correspond with your looks. My choicest friends are here
this evening, and I wish to see you Queen of Hearts."
"Especially to General Delville?"
"Especially to General Delville, Della. I shall be very happy to see you
his wife, and it is in your power to become so if you choose."
"I should like to know how many wives he has already, before I take that
step, so that I may know how strong a fortification my eyes need against
finger-nails."
"Fie, Della! the General has never been married, and you will no doubt
occupy the first place in his heart."
"I have always hoped that when I married such might be my lot, but it
cannot be in this case, I know. If General Delville has lived in
New-Orleans till he has grown old enough to be my grandfather, he can't
have much of a heart left."
"Della, you astonish me!" said her father, with the frown deepening.
"One would think you had no ambition whatever to make a good match."
"Papa, do you love me at all?"
Mr. Delancey started at the abrupt question, and gazed upon his daughter
in surprise.
"Love you, Della? the whole of my heart is centred in you."
Della sighed, as if the answer did not quite please her, and taking her
father's proffered arm, went down the broad staircase, and into the
magnificent drawing-room.
Wealth, and beauty, and state, and grandeur, all were there; yet first,
and fairest, and brightest, shone the merchant's daughter. The happy
father and proud mother watched her, as with a light step she flitted
through the thronged rooms, the "observed of all observers," and there
was a light in her eye, an animation in her tread, and a glow on her
cheek, which was all the more beautiful for being rare.
She leant upon Mr. Delville's arm, the envied object of many a young
heart there; and when seated at the harp, her clear, unaffected voice
rose in strains of thrilling melody. General Delville was at her side,
listening with earnest attention, and turning the leaves of her music
with all the grace of a more youthful courtier.
Aware, as he was, of the sanction of the father and the eagerness of the
mother, it was no wonder that the General strove to win to his withered
heart so fair a flower. He had been a great traveler, and had feasted
his eyes on the beautiful women of the East, and the more frigid
beauties of northern climes. He had been courted rather than courting,
and had gone through life dreading to take to his heart a wife, lest,
when too late, he should find his wealth had been the talisman that drew
her there.
But in Della, he thought he saw a sweet and guileless girl; and put
forth all his attractive powers of conversation and graces of person
(which, old as he was, became him well,) to interest her in himself. Her
father watched the progress of their acquaintance with a delight which
manifested itself, even in _his_ cold eyes, and Della received the
assiduous attentions of her white-haired admirer with a triumph for
which she was excusable; yet with no desire to win him closer than now.
The evening wore away, the splendid supper was over, and the guests, one
by one, took their departure. Many a youthful suitor made his adieus to
Della that night with a jealous pang, as Delville's apparent success
arose to his mind. When the rooms were cleared, Mr. Delancey called his
daughter to his side.
"I cannot let you retire, Della, without telling you how much you have
pleased and gratified a father's heart this night. I am more than ever
proud of you; you will well adorn the station in which Delville can
place you. Bless you, Della. Good night."
"Good night, papa."
Della moved gracefully away, and slowly mounted the broad staircase
leading to her chamber.
"No blessing of love--no blessing of affection," she murmured softly, as
she went on, step by step--"only a blessing through his pride--cold,
hollow, empty pride, with nothing noble, nothing lofty in it; having for
foundation only an eligible match for me, or my station, or my
appearance. What a life, what a life!"
Della expected to find Minny asleep, as the hour was late; but when she
entered her apartment, Minny was there, walking the floor with her
hands clasped thoughtfully before her.
"Undress me, Minn. I am weary--weary."
"Haven't you been happy, Miss?" asked the girl, as she knelt to unfasten
the slender slipper from the pretty foot.
"Yes--and no, Minn. If triumph could make me happy, I must have been, so
far as that is concerned; but in thinking of you I have been unhappy;
and I have thought of you all the evening."
"Of me, Miss, in the midst of all that gaiety!"
"Of you. Would you like to be free, Minny?"
"Free, Miss Della? to have my freedom, and leave you?"
"Yes, Minny, if you would like your freedom, you shall have it this very
night; papa will do anything I say with regard to it, and you may go,
dear Minn, whenever you choose. You shall have money to carry you where
you like. In the North you might do well; marry some rich abolitionist,
perhaps, and be very happy. I am in earnest, Minn; you have but to
speak."
"Miss Della, if I have offended you in any way, if I have hurt your
heart by any means, if I have spoken, acted, or looked anything that
displeased you, do anything to punish me save sending me from you. What
would my freedom be to me away from you? Miss Della, you will never know
how poor Minn loves you."
The girl had spoken in such a subdued voice, uttering her short
sentences between the sobs that were trying to struggle up, that, as she
paused in her task, and looked in her mistress's face with an expression
of such tearful, doubtful anxiety on her features, Della was deeply
touched, and sat a moment with her handkerchief pressed to her eyes. She
took it down at last, and went on very calmly and thoughtfully.
"Minny, it is very painful for me to talk of this, but you must
understand me: I'm afraid I can never be quite happy again, with you
performing such offices as this for me. The discovery I made this
afternoon--that unfortunate discovery for both of us--was terrible--very
terrible!"
"Oh, Miss, that of all things you should have asked me that! I will
never, never remember it, if you will only forget it, and let me be to
you what I have ever been."
"I was right in what I suspected--I am sure I guessed the truth--you
must tell me now, Minny," said Della, taking one of Minny's hands in
hers, and speaking in a tone half doubtful that she might be wrong. "My
father was your father, _n'est ce pas_, dear Minny?"
Heedless of the kindness with which the words were spoken, Minny threw
up her hands with a gesture of despair, then flung herself full length
upon the floor, in a burst of passionate grief.
"Get up, Minny; get up, and come by me here; come!"
With the deep sobs still bursting from her lips, the girl rose, and sat,
with bowed head and falling tears, at her young mistress's feet.
"Minny, you understand me now, don't you? Think of it, Minny: you are my
sister!"
"Oh! none the less your slave, Miss."
"My father's child must never be a slave to me."
"Miss Della! Oh that this knowledge should have ever come to either of
us; don't for the love of mercy talk so; don't put me from you; what am
I but a negro's child, the fruit of the white man's sin?"
"I know, Minny, I know the world would never look upon this as I do; but
you are in my sight as much my sister as if my father had lost a first
wife and wedded again, and we were the fruits of the two marriages. The
same blood is in your veins that is in mine. He who gave you being, to
me is 'father,' to you is 'master.' You are more beautiful than I, as
well as better fitted for the society into which I am forced to move,
yet you are a slave!"
Della leaned back in her chair a moment; and again held her handkerchief
to her eyes; she controlled herself quickly however, and continued:
"I set the case before you just as it is, Minny; I want you to view it
in its true light--then choose between what I offer you, and what you
must otherwise be. Don't tremble so, Minny; I never have felt towards
you as a mistress would to a slave. When I look back, I remember you
were the only playmate I ever had, the closest and best companion of my
wayward girlhood; and I feel that I have always loved you, always
respected you, and, Minny, I always shall. I am certain, Minn, that
though there may be black blood circling round it, there never was a
purer heart, a nobler soul, than yours. Were it not for my father's sake
your position should be different in this house, but in honor to him I
can only do you good by sending you where your birth and parentage will
ever be a mystery. Minny, dear, will you go?"
The girl had sat during all this time quiet as a statue, at her
mistress's feet. As she heard her stop speaking, she raised herself upon
her knees before her, and clasping her small hands above her,
exclaimed:--
"As God hears me, Miss Della, I would rather stay by you, rather be the
veriest slave that ever breathed, a mere thing to answer to your beck
and call, so that I may be near you, and love you, and do for you, than
to be the wife of the richest white man that ever lived--to be looked
upon as white myself--or to move in those circles which you would fain
believe me fitted for. As God hears me this is true!"
"Heaven bless you, Minny! Then we will never part."
With an exclamation of joy, Minny clasped her young mistress to her
heart, and poured forth, with passionate vehemence, her prayers and
tears and blessings. It seemed as if she could never cease, and Della
twined her fair arms, jeweled, and white, and beautiful, beneath the
thick black curls, which covered Minny's neck, and gave her kiss for
kiss, and tear for tear.
"When I am Bernard's wife, Minn, then I can make you happier. You have
all those dear letters safe, quite safe?"
"I keep them as the apple of my eye, Miss. You can never make me
happier, dear Miss, than I am now. I can never wish to be more blest
than I am this minute."
"Dear Minny, you have a woman's heart, and that must know a woman's
longings. When I have it in my power I shall at least try to make you
happier, though it may be in a different way. You have always been more
a friend and a fond companion than a slave to me, and now, now--" Della
paused, as if it were impossible for her to speak the words she would,
then added, after a moment's pause, "Minny, never let this dreadful
secret go farther, place a seal upon your lips, and let it die with you
for my sake. And, if you will stay, Minny, rather than to go and be free
and happy in your own way, I will do everything for you, love you, care
for you, all--only never, never let this dreadful truth be known."
"Never, Miss, so help me Heaven! Only let me stay with you, and be what
I have ever been to you, and I will be content. Try, dear Miss, to
forget all that's passed to-day, and let us stand together in the old
light."
"No, Minny, I can never forget it. The old light can never shine on me
again; but I will try always to remember it as I should; and now, Minn,
finish, undressing me; or rather, teach me to undress myself."
"I claim this as my privilege, Miss, and never want you to learn how."
Della smiled, and patted Minny's cheek. There had a change come over her
in the last few hours, such as she never thought to experience. It
seemed as if she had become more of a woman in that short space than she
had ever thought she would become. Her judgment and heart, too, seemed
suddenly to have expanded; and she felt more respect for herself than
she had ever done before. She had always been one who thought for
herself, notwithstanding there were so many to think for her; and, with
a spirit above all affectation, she looked at things in a plain,
common-sense, and true light. When the first shock was over in regard to
her relationship to Minny, she had struggled with her natural feelings
of wounded pride, till the matter stood before her as it was. Her father
was not one to win his child's affections, and Della had always feared
more than loved him; but of one so cold and stern she had never in all
her life thought this. But now that she knew it, she almost wondered how
it was she had never suspected as much before. Few girls, in Della's
position, would have talked with a slave as she talked to Minny--would
ever have thought of placing matters in so strong a light before her;
but Della was guileless and innocent at heart, with a child-spirit in
some things, yet more than woman's strength in others. She never thought
Minny could take advantage of the new aspect of affairs she painted for
her; she only felt that Minny was enduring a life of wrong, and longed
to give her redress. And Minny's was a great, and noble, and truthful
heart. From earliest childhood she had been taught to regard Miss Della
as her mistress, and was never absent from her side. Della had been
educated at home; and Minny, with her quick mind, and an occasional
lesson from her young mistress, together with her earnest desire to
learn, had acquired more real knowledge than Della herself, though
lacking some of the light accomplishments in which her mistress
excelled. Thus had they grown up together, and they were not to be
parted now.