ENVY, HATRED, AND MALICE.
Little did Gertrude imagine, while she was striving to promote the
welfare of Kitty, who had thrown herself upon her love and care, the
jealousy and ill-will she was exciting in others. Isabel, who had never
liked one whose tone of action and life reproached her own vanity and
selfishness, and who saw in her the additional crime of being the
favoured friend of a youth of whose interesting boyhood she herself
retained a sentimental recollection, was eager to render her odious to
Mrs. Graham. She was not slow to observe the confidence that existed
between Kitty and Gertrude; that her cousin had forsaken her own room
for that of the latter the night after her probable quarrel and parting
with Bruce; and her resentment, excited still further by the growing
friendship which her own unkindness to Kitty served only to confirm, she
communicated to Mrs. Graham her suspicion that Gertrude had selfishly
made a difficulty between Bruce and Kitty, and fostered and widened the
breach, and succeeded in breaking off the match. Mrs. Graham readily
adopted Belle's opinion. "Kitty," said she, "is weak-minded, and much
under Miss Flint's influence. I shouldn't be surprised if you were
right, Belle!"
Thus they tried to entrap Kitty into a confession that Gertrude had
driven away her lover. But Kitty, while she indignantly denied
Gertrude's having injured her, refused to reveal the occurrences of the
eventful evening. Mrs. Graham and Belle were angry, and many were their
private discussions on the subject, and as they became more and more
incensed against Gertrude, so they began to manifest it in their
demeanour.
Gertrude soon perceived their incivility. With wonderful patience,
however, did she preserve her equanimity. She had never looked for
kindness and attention from Mrs. Graham and Isabel. They were irritated
by her calmness and patience, now made their attack in another quarter;
and Emily, the sweet, lovely, and unoffending Emily, became the object
against which they aimed many of their shafts of ill-will.
Gertrude could bear injury, injustice, and even cruel language, towards
herself only; but her blood boiled when she perceived that her cherished
Emily was becoming the victim of neglect and ill-usage. To address the
gentle Emily in other words than those of courtesy was next to
impossible; it was equally hard to find fault with the actions of one
whose life was so good and beautiful; and the isolated position which
she occupied on account of her blindness seemed to render her free from
interference. But Mrs. Graham was coarse and blunt, Isabel selfish and
unfeeling; and long before the blind girl was aware of any unkind
intention on their part, Gertrude's spirit had rebelled at the knowledge
of many a word and act well calculated to distress a sensitive mind.
Many a stroke was warded off by Gertrude; many a nearly defeated plan,
which Emily was known to have had at heart, carried through by
Gertrude's perseverance and energy; and for some weeks Emily was kept
ignorant of the fact that many a little office formerly performed for
her by a servant was now fulfilled by Gertrude, who would not let her
know that Bridget had received from her mistress orders which were quite
inconsistent with her usual attendance upon Miss Graham's wants.
Mr. Graham was absent on business at New York. His presence would have
been a great restraint upon his wife, who was well aware of his devoted
affection for his daughter. His love for Emily, and the devotion
manifested towards her by every member of the household, had rendered
her an object of jealousy to Mrs. Graham.
Shortly before Mr. Graham's return, Mrs. Graham and Isabel were
indulging themselves in an unlimited abuse of the rest of the household,
when a letter was brought to Mrs. Graham, which proved to be from her
husband. After glancing over its contents, she remarked, with an air of
satisfaction, "Here is good news for us, Isabel, and a prospect of some
pleasure in the world." And she read aloud the following--"The
troublesome affair which called me here is nearly settled, and the
result is very favourable to my wishes and plans. I now see nothing to
prevent our starting for Europe the latter part of next month, and the
girls must make their arrangements accordingly. Tell Emily to spare
nothing towards a full and complete equipment for herself and Gertrude."
"He speaks of Gertrude," said Isabel, sneeringly, "as if she were one of
the family. I'm sure I don't see any very great prospect of pleasure in
travelling all through Europe with a blind woman, and her disagreeable
appendages; I can't think what Mr. Graham wants to take them for."
"I wish he would leave them at home," said Mrs. Graham; "it would be a
good punishment for Gertrude. But, mercy! he would as soon think of
going without his right hand as without Emily."
"I hope, if ever I'm married," exclaimed Isabel, "it won't be to a man
that's got a blind daughter! Such a dreadful good person, too, whom
everybody has got to worship, and admire, and wait upon!"
"I don't have to wait upon her," said Mrs. Graham; "that's Gertrude's
business--it's what she's going for."
"That's the worst of it; a blind girl has to have a waiting-maid, and a
waiting-maid is a great lady, who doesn't mind cheating your nieces out
of their lovers, and even robbing them of each other's affection."
"Well, what can I do, Belle? I'm sure I don't want Gertrude's company
any more than you do; but I don't see how I can get rid of her."
"I should think you'd tell Mr. Graham some of the harm she's done
already. If you have any influence over him, you might prevent her
going."
"It would be no more than she deserves," said Mrs. Graham; "and I may
give him a hint of her behaviour; he'll be surprised enough when he
hears of Bruce's sudden flight. I knew he thought it would be a match
between him and Kitty."
As Isabel descended the staircase, to meet with smiles and compliments
the guests whom in her heart she wished a thousand miles away on this
intensely hot afternoon, Gertrude came up from the kitchen, and passed
along a passage to her own room. She carried, over one arm, a dress of
white muslin, and a number of collars, sleeves, and ruffles, with other
articles fresh from the ironing-board. Her face was heated; she looked
tired, and, as she reached her room, and deposited her burden upon the
bed, she drew a long breath, as if fatigued, seated herself by a
window, brushed the hair back from her face, and threw open a blind.
Just then Mrs. Prime put her head in at the door; and, seeing Gertrude
alone, entered the room, but stood in astonishment on observing the
evidences of her recent laborious employment; then, glancing at the
fruits of her diligence, she burst forth indignantly, "My sakes alive!
Miss Gertrude, I believe you've been doin' up them muslins yourself,
after all!"
Gertrude smiled, but did not reply.
"Now, if that ain't too bad!" said the kind-hearted woman; "to think you
should ha' been at work down in that 'ere hot kitchen, and all the rest
on us takin' a spell o' rest in the heat of the day. I'll warrant if
Miss Emily knew it, she'd never put on that white gown!"
"It hardly looks _fit_ for her to wear," said Gertrude. "I'm not much
used to ironing, and have had a great deal of trouble with it; one side
got dry before I could smooth out the other."
"It looks elegant, Miss Gertrude; but what should you be doin' Bridget's
work for, I want to know?"
"Bridget always has enough to do," said Gertrude, evading a direct
answer; "and it's very well for me to have some practice; knowledge
never comes amiss, you know, Mrs. Prime."
"'Tant no kind of an afternoon for 'speriment o' that sort; and you
wouldn't ha' done it, I'll venture to say, if you hadn't been afeard
Miss Emily would want her things, and find out they wan't done. Times is
changed in this house, when Mr. Graham's own daughter, that was once the
head of everything, has to have her clothes laid by to make room for
other folks. Bridget ought to know better than to mind these upstarters,
when they tell her, as I heard Miss Graham yesterday, to let alone that
heap o' muslins, and attend to something that was o' more consequence.
Our Katy would ha' known better; but Bridget's a new-comer like all the
rest. Thinks I to myself then, what would Miss Gertrude say, if she
suspected how Miss Emily was bein' neglected! But I'll _tell_ Miss
Emily, as sure as my name's Prime, just how things go--you shan't get so
red in the face with ironing agin, Miss Gertrude. If the kind o' frocks
she likes to wear can't be done up at home--and yourn too, what's
more--the washin' ought to be put out. There's money enough, and some of
it ought to be spent for the use o' the ladies as is ladies! I wish to
heart _that_ Isabella would have to start round a little lively; 'twould
do her good; but, Lor', Miss Gertrude, it goes right to my heart to see
all the vexatious things as is happenin' nowadays! I'll go right to Miss
Emily this minute, and tell how things go on."
"No, you won't, Mrs. Prime," said Gertrude, persuasively; "when I ask
you not. You forget how unhappy it would make her, if she knew that Mrs.
Graham was so wanting in consideration. I would rather iron dresses
every day, or do anything else for our dear Miss Emily, than let her
_suspect_ even that anybody could willingly be unkind to her."
Mrs. Prime hesitated. "Miss Gertrude, I thought I loved our dear young
lady as well as anybody, but I believe you love her better still, to be
so thoughtful all for her sake; and I wouldn't say nothing about it,
only I think a sight o' _you_, too; you've been here ever since you was
a little gal, and we all set lots by you, and I can't see them folks
ride over your head, as I know they mean to."
"I know you love me, Mrs. Prime, and Emily too; so, for the sake of us
both, you mustn't say a word to anybody about the change in the family
arrangements. We'll all do what we can to keep Emily from pain; and, as
to the rest, we won't care for ourselves; if they don't pet and indulge
me as much as I have been accustomed to, the easiest way is not to
notice it."
"Lord bless yer heart, Miss Gertrude, them folks is lucky to have you to
deal with; it isn't everybody as would put up with 'em. They don't come
much in my way, thank fortin! I let Miss Graham see, right off, that I
wouldn't put up with interference; cooks is privileged to set up for
their rights, and I scared her out o' my premises pretty quick, I tell
yer! It's mighty hard for me to see our own ladies imposed upon; but
since you say 'mum,' Miss Gertrude, I'll try and hold my tongue as long
as I can. It's a shame, though, I do declare."
An hour after, Gertrude was at the glass, braiding her long hair, when
Mrs. Ellis, after a slight knock, entered. "Well, Gertrude," said she,
"I didn't think it would come to this!"
"Why, what is the matter?" inquired Gertrude, anxiously.
"It seems we are going to be turned out of our rooms!"
"Who?"
"You, and I next, for ought I know."
Gertrude coloured, but did not speak, and Mrs. Ellis related that she
had received orders to fit up Gertrude's room for some visitors who were
expected. She was astonished to hear that Gertrude had not been
consulted on the subject. Mrs. Graham had spoken so carelessly of her
removal, and seemed to think it so agreeable for Emily to share her
apartment with her young friend, that Mrs. Ellis concluded the matter
had been pre-arranged.
Deeply wounded and vexed on her own and Emily's account, Gertrude stood
for a moment silent. She then asked if Mrs. Ellis had spoken to Emily on
the subject. She had not. Gertrude begged her to say nothing about it.
"I cannot bear," said she, "to let her know that the little sanctum she
fitted up so carefully has been unceremoniously taken from me. I sleep
in her room more than half the time, as you know; but she always likes
to have me call this chamber mine, that I may be sure of a place where I
can read and study. If you will let me remove my bureau into your room,
Mrs. Ellis, and sleep on a couch there occasionally, we need not say
anything about it to Emily."
Mrs. Ellis assented. She had grown strangely humble and compliant within
a few months, and Gertrude had won her good-will, first by forbearance,
and latterly by the frequent assistance she had rendered to the
overburdened housekeeper. But, though yielding and considerate towards
Gertrude, whom, with Emily and Mrs. Prime, she now considered members of
the injured party to which she herself belonged, no words could express
her indignation with regard to the late conduct of Mrs. Graham and
Isabel. "It is all of a piece," said she, "with the rest of their
conduct! Sometimes I almost feel thankful that Emily is blind; it would
grieve her to see the goings-on. I should have liked to box Isabella's
ears for taking your seat at the table so impudently as she did
yesterday, and then neglecting to help Emily to anything at all; and
there sat dear Emily, angel as she is! all unconscious of her shameful
behaviour, and asking her for butter as sweetly as if it were by mere
accident that you had been driven from the table, and she left to
provide for herself. And all those strangers there, too! I saw it all
from the china-closet! And then Emily's dresses and muslins!--there they
laid in the press-drawer, till I thought they would mildew. I'm glad to
see Bridget has been allowed to do them at last, for I began to think
Emily would, one of these warm days, be without a clean gown in the
world. But all I wish is, that they'd all go off to Europe, and leave us
here to ourselves. You don't want to go, do you, Gertrude?"
"Yes, if Emily goes."
"Well, you're better than I am; I couldn't make such a martyr of myself
even for her sake."
It is needless to detail the many petty annoyances to which Gertrude was
daily subjected; nor with all the pains taken to prevent it, could Emily
be long kept in ignorance of the light estimation in which both herself
and Gertrude were regarded. Kitty, incensed at the incivility of her
aunt and Isabel, and indifferent towards the visitors, hesitated not to
express both to Emily and Gertrude her sense of the injuries they
sustained. But Kitty was no formidable antagonist to Mrs. Graham and
Belle, for her spirits were greatly subdued, and she no longer dared, as
she would once have done, to stand between her friends and the
indignities to which they were exposed.
But Mrs. Graham became at last entangled in difficulties of her own
weaving. Her husband returned, and it now became necessary to set bounds
to her own insolence, and, what was far more difficult, to that of
Isabel. Mrs. Graham knew just how far her husband's forbearance would
extend--just the point to which his perceptions might be blinded. But in
his absence she permitted Belle to fill the house with her lively young
acquaintances, and winked at the many flagrant violations of politeness
manifested by the young people towards the daughter of their absent
host, and their youthful friend and attendant. But now a check must be
put to all indecorous proceedings; and, unfortunately for the execution
of the wife's precautions, the head of the family returned unexpectedly,
and under circumstances which forestalled any preparation. He arrived
just at dusk, having come from town in an omnibus. It was a cool
evening, the windows and doors were closed, and the drawing-room was so
brilliantly lighted that he suspected that a large company was being
entertained there. He felt vexed, for it was Saturday night, and, in
accordance with New England customs, Mr. Graham loved to see his
household quiet on that evening. He was also suffering from a violent
headache, and, avoiding the drawing-room, passed on to the library, and
then to the dining-room. He then went upstairs, walked through several
rooms, glanced indignantly at their slovenly appearance, and finally
gained Emily's chamber.
A bright wood fire burned upon the hearth; a couch was drawn up beside
it, on which Emily was sitting; and Gertrude's little rocking-chair
occupied the opposite corner. The peaceful face of Emily, and the
radiant expression of Gertrude's countenance, as she saw the father of
her blind friend looking pleasantly in upon them, proved such a charming
contrast to the scenes presented in other parts of the house, that the
old gentleman, warmed to more than usual satisfaction with both of the
inmates, greeted his surprised daughter with a hearty paternal embrace,
and gave Gertrude an equally affectionate greeting, exclaiming, as he
took the arm-chair, "Now, girls, this looks pleasant and home-like! What
in the world is going on downstairs?" Emily explained that there was
company staying in the house.
"Ugh! company!" grunted Mr. Graham, in a dissatisfied tone. "I think so!
Been emptying rag-bags about the chambers, I should say, from the
looks."
Gertrude asked if he had been to tea. He had not, and should be thankful
for some; he was tired.
"Don't tell anybody that I've got home, Gerty," called he, as she left
the room; "I want to be left in peace _to-night_, at least."
While Gertrude was gone, Mr. Graham questioned Emily as to her
preparations for the European tour. To his surprise, he learned that she
had never received his message communicated in the letter to Mrs.
Graham, and knew nothing of his plans. Astonished and angry, he
restrained his temper; he did not like to acknowledge to himself, far
less to his daughter, that his commands had been disregarded by his
wife. After he had enjoyed a comfortable repast, at which Gertrude
presided, they both returned to Emily's room; and now Mr. Graham's first
inquiry was for the _Evening Transcript_.
"I will go for it," said Gertrude, rising.
"Ring!" said Mr. Graham, imperatively. He had observed that Gertrude's
ringing was disregarded, and wished to know the cause of so strange a
piece of neglect. Gertrude rang several times, but obtained no answer to
the bell. At last she heard Bridget's step in the entry, and, opening
the door, said to her, "Bridget, won't you find the _Transcript_, and
bring it to Miss Emily's room?" Bridget soon returned with the
announcement that Miss Isabella was reading it, and declined to give it
up.
A storm gathered on Mr. Graham's brow. "Such a message to _my
daughter_!" he exclaimed. "Gertrude, go yourself and tell the
impertinent girl that _I_ want the paper! What sort of behaviour is
this?" he muttered.
Gertrude entered the drawing-room with great composure, and, amid the
stares of the company, spoke in a low tone to Belle, who immediately
yielded up the paper, looking much confused as she did so. Belle was
afraid of Mr. Graham; and, on her informing her aunt of his return, that
lady was also disconcerted. She had fully calculated upon seeing her
husband before he had access to Emily. But it was too late now, but she
used all her tact to disperse her friends at an early hour, and then
found Mr. Graham smoking in the dining-room.
He was in an unpleasant mood; but she contrived to conciliate rather
than irritate him, avoided all discordant subjects, and the next morning
introduced to her friends an apparently affable host.
But this serenity was disturbed long before the Sabbath drew to a close.
As he walked up the aisle, before morning service, with Emily, according
to custom, leaning upon his arm, his brow darkened at seeing Isabel
complacently seated in that corner of the old fashioned pew which had
for years been sacred to his blind daughter. Mrs. Graham winked at her
niece, but Isabel was mentally rather obtuse, and was subjected to the
mortification of having Mr. Graham remove her from the seat, in which he
placed Emily, while the displaced occupant, who had been so mean for the
last three Sundays to deprive Miss Graham of this old-established right,
was compelled to sit in the only vacant place, beside Mr. Graham, with
her back to the pulpit. And very angry was she at observing the smiles
visible upon many countenances in the neighboring pews.
Mr. Graham had not been at home a week before he understood the state of
feeling in the mind of his wife and Isabel, and the manner in which it
was likely to act upon the happiness of the household. He saw that Emily
was superior to complaint; she had never in her life complained; he
observed, too, Gertrude's devotion to his much-loved child, and it
stamped her in his mind as one who had a claim to his regard which
should never be disputed. It is not, then, to be wondered at, that when
Mrs. Graham made her intended insinuations against his youthful
_protegee_, Mr. Graham treated them with contempt.
He had known Gertrude from a child. She was high-spirited--he had
sometimes thought her wilful--but _never_ mean or false. It was no use
to tell him all that nonsense;--he was glad that it was all off between
Kitty and Bruce; for Ben was an idle fellow, and would never make a good
husband; and, as to Kitty, he thought her much improved of late, and if
it were owing to Gertrude's influence, the more they saw of each other
the better.
Mrs. Graham was in despair. "It is all settled," said she to Isabel. "It
is no use to contest the point; Mr. Graham is firm as a rock, and as
sure as _we_ go to Europe, Emily and Gertrude will go _too_."
She was almost startled; therefore, by an excess of good-luck, when
informed, a few days afterwards, that the couple she had so dreaded to
have of the party were to be left behind, at Miss Graham's special
request. Emily's scruples with regard to mentioning to her father the
little prospect of pleasure the tour was likely to afford her all
vanished when she found that Gertrude would be a still greater sufferer
from the society to which she would be subjected.
Blind as she was, Emily understood and perceived almost everything that
was passing around her. Quick of perception, and with a hearing rendered
doubly intense by her want of sight, the events of the summer were,
perhaps, more familiar to her than to any other member of the family.
She more than suspected the exact state of matters betwixt Mr. Bruce and
Gertrude, though the latter had never spoken to her on the subject. She
imagined how Kitty was involved in the affair (no very difficult thing
to conceive by one who enjoyed the confidence which the simple-hearted
girl unconsciously made during her intercourse with her).
As Mrs. Graham's and Isabel's abuse of power became more open, Mrs.
Ellis and Mrs. Prime considered the embargo upon free speech in Miss
Graham's presence wholly removed; and any pain which the knowledge of
their neglect might have caused her was more than compensated to Emily
by the proofs it had called forth of devoted attachment and willing
service on the part of her adopted child, as she loved to consider
Gertrude.
Calmly and promptly did she resolve to adopt a course which should free
Gertrude from her self-sacrificing service. She encountered much
opposition from her father; but he had seen, during the previous winter
at the South, how Emily's infirmity unfitted her for travelling,
especially when deprived of Gertrude's attendant eyes; he now realised
how contrary to her tastes and habits were those of his new wife and her
nieces; and, unwilling to be convinced of the folly of his sudden
choice, and probably of unhappiness from it, he appreciated the wisdom
of Emily's proposal, and felt relief in the adoption of a course which
would satisfy all parties.