At Newberg it had been snowing incessantly; and lately a biting frost
set in, and an icy wind from the lakes was heaping up great drifts like
breastworks of crystal along the fences and across the roads. The
chimney corner was now the only comfortable place even for those in
vigorous health, and the gentle nurses who had Mr. Smiles in charge
would have looked upon it as sheer madness to think of moving their
patient to Chestnut Grove.
A month had elapsed since the incident which made him so fortunate a
captive, and Mr. Smiles was quite himself in general health, though his
broken ankle was slow to knit. During his gradual convalescence he had
made it a point to hobble into the sitting room from time to time, and
never failed to delight his companions by his charming musical
selections, and his varied and attractive conversation. He had taught
Hagar the game of chess while still confined to his bed, and she had sat
for hours reading to him in his chamber—the sequel being that the ardent
young lady loved this accomplished man almost to adoration.
He was so patient and amiable, even merry, through all his sufferings—so
considerate and uncomplaining, and so gentle and loving to herself, that
she was constrained to look upon him as a superior being, who was
conferring an honor in giving her his love. She had often heard the old
saw about “living with people to find them out,” and had she not lived
in close intimacy with her lover for a month, attending him through a
painful illness, observing him (she could not realize how uncritically)
at one time delirious from the effects of the blow on his head, and at
another threatened with the loss of a broken limb, only to discover in
his character new excellencies every day?
At length the weather moderated, and by the dawning of the New Year the
snow had almost entirely disappeared. A prevailing southerly wind had
brought to the wintry region the balmy breath of Spring, and Hagar and
her prospective husband agreed that now was the time to move to Chestnut
Grove, which was done without delay.
A few days after her return home Hagar wrote an affectionate note to Dr.
Taine who had remained at Cleveland since James’s expedition, for the
purpose of breaking to him the news of her intended marriage, and
begging him to come to see them all while the weather was so fine.
A day or two later Dr. Taine came to Chestnut Grove unexpectedly just in
time for tea. Hagar ran out to greet him with all her wonted tenderness;
but to Mrs. Taine and the minister his arrival was an unwelcome
surprise. The Doctor had determined to question Mr. Smiles on the
subject of his intended marriage, and after supper invited him into the
study for that purpose.
They had chatted a few minutes when the Doctor said:
“I understand, Mr. Smiles, though you have not yourself mentioned the
subject to me, that you intend to take my daughter Hagar to wife?”
“Rather, your adopted daughter, I believe, Doctor? Yes sir, that is
quite true.”
This impertinent qualification did not sound well to the Doctor’s ear,
so he spoke up rather severely:
“I call her my daughter, for she seems like my own having grown up here
from infancy. I love her as my own; seek her happiness as if she were my
own; protect her as my own.”
“Or better, perhaps;” said Smiles to himself, as the doctor dwelt on
these expressions. “Egad! perhaps she is your own!”
The Doctor went on:
“You will pardon me, therefore, if I ask you a question or two, which, I
apprehend, are wholly unnecessary, but are not intended to be
impertinent or offensive.”
“You will admit, Doctor, that we should not suspect our own cloth! But,
I shall gladly answer any question you are pleased to put if it is in my
power.”
“There are, no doubt, many societies in a great city like Boston which
do not figure in the directories?”
“I should say so, certainly,” Smiles replied, coolly, catching the
Doctor’s drift at once.
“I was looking for the address of your society of the ‘Christian
Disciples’ in a Boston directory for 1861, but could not find it.”
“I was not aware that we did not figure in that respectable volume, but
am delighted to hear that such is the case. The circumstance, however,
is easily accounted for: our object is to act, not to pose. I see how it
is, Doctor Taine, you doubt me, though for what reason—well, perhaps you
could hardly say yourself?” A steady look convinced him that the old
gentleman was not instigated by anything more serious than a passing
caprice, so he altered his tone and continued with humility: “But,
believe me, sir, I shall not go one step further in this affair until
your doubts are cleared up. A letter simply addressed to the secretary
of our society, Boston, will meet with a prompt reply. If it is not
satisfactory concerning me I will withdraw at your command. Do you ask
more than this?”
Here was exactly what the Doctor had already done, and his misgivings
now seemed to fade out of his mind. He could scarcely catch an outline
of them, or frame a doubt on which to string them together again. It was
clearly, he reflected, a case of youth and love: the happy smile of
Hagar, her dream of the joys promised by her new estate, were present in
the old man’s reflections; for a moment he could not find words to
reply. Finally, he said:
“I think your motto, “To act, and not to pose,” is one of the best I
ever heard for any society. Your organization must be a noble one.” He
spoke like one who was trying to repair a wound he had inflicted without
provocation, and little thought the ‘motto’ was composed at the moment
it was pronounced. “But” he continued, still regarding himself as an
offender, “you must not imagine that I meant to infer anything unjust to
you, Mr. Smiles, far from it; and I should like you to tell me something
about the work in which your society is engaged.”
In nothing was Mr. Smiles more at home than in the description of
philanthropic enterprise. On this occasion he made such a deep
impression upon his auditor that the Doctor consumed four pages of his
next letter to James in recounting the virtues of the Christian
Disciples, of whom Mr. Smiles was represented as a leader.
When Mr. Smiles withdrew and left him alone to his meditations, the
Doctor’s mind was entirely at rest where the young minister was
concerned; and when the latter reentered the sitting room where Mrs.
Taine and Hagar were awaiting him, he said in reply to their enquiring
looks:
“He has consented.”