UNSATISFIED VANITY.
Mr. Nelson had placed a Nemesis in his household, and she gave him full
measure of retribution. The few days of sunshine which he had purchased,
soon faded away; and he was left to wander to and fro in that splendid
house, more desolate than the pauper whom his wife sent haughtily from
his door.
Step by step, the woman for whom he had sacrificed every thing, became
a very tyrant in his house. Indifferent at first, then arrogant, and at
last insufferably insolent, she scarcely gave him breathing room in his
own home. The very tread of his foot in the vestibule filled her with a
sort of resentment, as if he had no right, in any degree, to disturb the
luxury of her existence. Nothing but her insatiable vanity won for him
even a gleam of favor. That was the strong passion of her nature, and in
its complete gratification she sometimes condescended to endure his
presence with some show of cheerfulness.
True, Mrs. Nelson was now comparatively independent. A few short weeks
of coquetry--for that is really the name by which her attempts at
affection should be given--had won this much from her infatuated victim;
but it often happens that a woman who scatters her husband's money with
recklessness, proves parsimonious where her own is concerned. This was
the case with Mrs. Nelson; she had no fancy for diminishing her own
resources; on the contrary, she had, without consulting Nelson, placed
them in a way to command more than the usual interest, at the inevitable
result of more than ordinary risk.
Thus the demands of unlimited extravagance made it important that
something like marital cordiality should be maintained with her husband,
and from this necessity, gleams of coquettish affection would sometimes
break upon his loneliness, which she foolishly believed would always
prove sufficient to keep him at her feet.
It is generally the dregs of poor wine that become sour. That love can
turn to hate, no one who ever felt the true passion will believe. But
there are mixed feelings that combine with affection in evil natures,
like foreign ingredients in the wine, and these yield to circumstances
as that does to the atmosphere, turning to indifference, contempt, or
hate, as the case may be.
This change was going on with Nelson. His wife did not see it, for, with
a good deal of cleverness, she had not the intellect to comprehend a
character like his. Her reign over him had been so complete--he had
received her slightest favors with such gratitude--that any idea of
revolt never entered her mind. A few blandishments had always obtained
power over him to any extent, and these she had always at command.
But she too was setting up a Nemesis in the household, not the less
powerful that it was slow to come.
This woman's life had become one wild commotion--nothing contented her.
The desire of one day was flung off by the caprice of the next. The
house was one thoroughfare of fashion. Her position once acknowledged in
that world which every one talks of, but which, in a republic like ours,
is never permanently defined--her hold upon it became complete; but it
was maintained at great cost; morning breakfasts, evening parties, and
those exquisite little suppers which are the gems of a sumptuous
establishment, came and went in endless succession. Her life was a
triumph of vanity--her ambition fulfilled. She had no character for
higher aspirations, and only aimed at something new, something that
would sweep all social competition aside.
This was altogether opposed to Nelson's ideas of domestic life. His
ambition was of a sterner nature. He wanted power abroad, and domestic
love at home. But the woman he had chosen overshadowed him with her
dashing frivolity--put him aside with her insolent pretension. His
strong nature revolted at last. Month after month he had walked through
her magnificent festivities like a stranger, scarcely recognized by her
guests, or approached by herself, unless the great need of money brought
her smiling to his presence, and all this time one fact was brooding in
his mind--for all his love the woman had given him nothing.
These thoughts hardened the rich man against the woman he had almost
adored. He grew sombre and stern as a rock. No one ever saw him smile,
or if he did, the gleam of a serpent stole into his eyes, revealing the
venom within. This state of things might have gone on for months,
perhaps years, but for a new source of excitement which the lady had
searched out for herself. Hitherto the expense and ostentation of her
life had been its chief objection. But display requires great genius in
its arrangement not to become monotonous, and of all things on earth the
routine of a merely fashionable life is the least interesting. Mrs.
Nelson began to feel this. Even the triumphs of her vanity grew sickly;
she wanted new fields for display. This feeling led her to the very
verge of a precipice. There was one corner in Nelson's heart in which a
sleeping serpent lay coiled, which even she must not dare to arouse. But
with her usual audacity she trampled even there.
In New York there is always a floating population of foreigners whose
business it is to be amused, and who have, with the aid of liberal
travel abroad, introduced many customs into our republican society which
a New Englander of any class is not quite prepared to accept.
Now Mrs. Nelson began to weary of her fashionable dissipation--the
attentions of those very men made one of the chief attractions of her
life. They were invited to her house; she received with pleasure their
exaggerated flatteries, and gradually her whole mode of thought became
so changed that the woman was scarcely to be recognized.
What Nelson suffered at first is beyond the power of description;
although it wounded his pride terribly, he gave these troubles no
utterance, and had scarcely expressed a word of disapproval, but his
brow grew heavy with frowns and an iron pressure of the mouth became
habitual. He never sought his wife's presence now, and even passed her,
if they chanced to meet, with lowering avoidance.
With this new caprice Mrs. Nelson's extravagance had somewhat abated,
and having no special favors to ask, she treated her husband's frowns
with the utmost disdain, if for a moment they excited her attention. He
took no pains to enforce his displeasure upon her, but with stolid
firmness went on his way.
During her married life this woman had made many efforts to find out the
sources of her husband's wealth, but except that all her expenditures
were supplied in foreign gold, she could form no real idea of his
resources. But this fact convinced her that he must have made vast
investments abroad, and the strongest desire she had left was to
ascertain the exact position and amount of these investments, which, in
the end, must, she was certain, become her own, either by depletion or
bequest.
But for the fixed conviction of his wife's indifference, the art of this
woman would, in the end, have gained the information she craved; but
Nelson felt that in this secret lay his entire hold on her. In fact he
dared not trust her or divide the corroding anxieties of his existence
with any human being.
At length, in the pauses of a foreign flirtation, for with her these
things never approached a point beyond that of gratified vanity, she
began to reflect on the persistent silence of her husband, and viewing
him as the source of all her luxuries, became vaguely uneasy, as she had
done once before, lest he should escape her control.
One evening, when it chanced that she had no visitors, this doubt came
across her, and under its influence she went in search of her husband.