A GAME OF HEARTS.
Miss Elsworth had returned to Roxbury. She had an amount of work which
would keep her busy for a number of weeks, and then she expected to
pass the remainder of the summer in traveling, partly for business and
partly for pleasure. She always visited the family of Mr. Graves as
soon as she returned, and she was much pleased to find Bessie
improving in health and appearance. "I think you are getting well,
Bessie," she said as Bessie sprang toward her.
Bessie smiled as she whispered:
"Why, Miss Robin, I'm not sick, but you just come with me," she said,
taking Blanche's hand and trying to draw her toward the door.
"Wait until I am ready to go home, and then you may go with me, and
tell me all you wish."
Bessie waited very impatiently and as soon as Blanche was ready to
leave the house, she clapped her hands joyously.
"Now I will tell you all about it," she said, as they walked away
together, "but you must not be scared, will you?"
"No, I guess not."
"Well, you know Ross?"
"Yes."
"But you haven't seen him yet since you came?"
"No."
"Well, you will see him, for he is coming to see you, I know."
"How do you know?"
"You see I know, because every day when the sun goes down, Ross would
come out and sit on the steps, or the well-curb, or somewhere down by
the old house."
"Why, Bessie, how you talk!"
"Oh, it's as true as can be; as true as the stars."
"How do you know that the stars are true?"
"Why, they are always there, looking down on us, ain't they? They
never fail, unless there is a cloud comes between, and then their
bright eyes are gone. Don't you know that is true?"
"Perhaps it is."
"And what I tell you is true, and when Ross comes you will know it."
"What do you mean, Bessie?"
"I mean that Ross will come some time after the sun has gone to bed,
and he will tell you all about love."
"Hush, Bessie."
"No, I will not hush, for I know he will come. Oh, but he will," she
said, pointing her finger at Blanche. "Now you are ashamed; you think
it is foolish to love, but I can tell you it is beautiful; there is
always a story goes with it, too, that you can't help believing, and
you just let Ross tell it to you and see if I did not tell you true."
"Bessie, why do you think this?"
"Why, I know he will; but don't you believe a word--not if you can
help it. You see I believed so long, and then at last I found he lied;
so don't you believe Ross, will you?"
"I guess not."
"You must be sure. Now I'm going away because he wants you to be all
alone when he tells you that story."
"Bessie, you have a very foolish idea in your head," Miss Elsworth
said, as they entered the old house.
"But don't you call me crazy."
"Bessie, your brother will not talk to me of love; he has never
mentioned it to me."
"Well, you see, he was afraid; he says you are a famous woman."
"No, I am not famous, and if I were, what of it?"
"That's what I say. I ain't a bit afraid of you if you are crazy. Ross
is a coward to be afraid of a robin," Bessie said, as she sat down
beside Blanche and looked into her face with a sweet smile. "I'd let
him tell, just to hear how lovely it sounds, because, you see, you
don't know; you never loved anybody, did you?"
"Oh, yes, I have loved a great many people."
"But you never loved only one so much that you could just die for him,
did you?"
Blanche Elsworth was looking steadily out of the window, and she made
no reply to Bessie's random talk.
"Say, did you, now?" Bessie asked again. "Then you need not answer. I
know, I know!"
"What do you know?"
"I know you love Ross, but you must not believe him."
"Let us talk about something else, Bessie."
"No, I won't. I mean to talk about love--but I'm going now."
"May I go with you?"
"No, you want to see Ross."
"I think you can go alone, Bessie."
"I will," she said. "Now watch me run," and away she sped ere Blanche
had time to think what she was doing.
The sun had gone down, and Blanche was sitting on an old tree that had
fallen by the side of the little stream that ran through the ravine.
She was watching the bright colors which blended so beautifully above
the tall tree tops, and she was thinking that with a world so full of
beauty all around there should be more happiness. Blanche looked up at
the richly glowing sky, then down at the clear little stream at her
feet.
"Well, upon my word."
"What is the matter, Mrs. Morris?"
"Well, if you ain't the funniest woman, settin' out here on a tree
among the birds and the bugs."
"Is there anything you want?" asked Blanche.
"Why, I thought if there wasn't anything to do I'd run up to the other
house."
"You may go," said Blanche, who was in a thinking mood, and glad to be
left alone.
Mrs. Morris walked away, and Blanche had just fallen into a deep
study when she looked up and saw Ross Graves coming toward her.
"May I take a seat here?" he asked, pointing to the old log where she
sat.
"Certainly," she said, pleasantly.
"You have chosen a very quiet spot for visiting yourself, Miss
Elsworth."
"It is a lovely one," she replied. "I enjoy this extreme quiet."
"I suppose," he said, smiling, "that you are never alone."
"No," she said, looking up and returning the smile. "I am usually
surrounded with those who are holding an imaginary conversation with
me."
"And perhaps not always friendly."
"Oh, no, my people are as varied as those in real life, and possess
the warmest love and the most bitter hatred."
"But there is a charming feature about the surrounding objects. You
have them completely under your control."
"Yes, for though they are extremely ill-disposed, they dare not be
rebellious."
"Miss Elsworth, I have often thought that it must be a very happy life
that you lead."
"Why?"
"You always look happy."
"Do you always judge from appearances?"
"No, for I know that there are those who can cover an aching heart
with a smiling face."
"That is true, and I believe there is a skeleton in every closet,
either great or small."
Ross looked at the lovely face, and wondered where there could be a
skeleton for her. She had never appeared to have a heartache, but he
noticed that at times there was a longing look in her beautiful eyes,
as if she were not quite satisfied with life, though she had never
uttered the word that said she was not entirely happy.
"There are those who can keep the skeleton so securely hidden that you
would never know it existed, and I often think of what a vast amount
of self-control it must require to bury the secrets of some
heart-sorrow," said Ross.
"Yes," she answered, "self-control and patient endurance. I have known
those whom I would give the world to be like, just because they
possessed the fortitude to crush down and bury their heartaches."
"I should judge that you possessed that faculty, if you had any to
bury."
"I? No, I wish I did. There is a hungry feeling so often comes up in
my heart that I almost cry out in despair, though my sorrows are
nothing compared to many another."
"There are some sorrows that never can be crushed--that will exist
while life lasts."
"Yes," she answered, looking up at the soft twilight sky, with a face
full of tender emotion, "and God pity those who are helpless."
"There is a skeleton in our home that can never be removed, a disgrace
which can never be blotted out, and I have sworn to have revenge on
the villain who threw the dark shadow over our lives."
"Revenge can avail you nothing, and might bring still greater misery
upon you," said Miss Elsworth.
"That is true, but you cannot realize how hard it is to crush down a
bitter feeling toward one who has injured you."
"Perhaps not, but this I know, that the hardest battles are fought
with our own hearts."
"That is true, and the man who ruleth his own spirit is mightier than
the one who taketh a city. Had the enemy captured us in any other way,
I might have been more easily reconciled, but Bessie was our idol, the
pride of our home, and she was the baby, too, you know."
Blanche looked on the fine face of Ross with a heart full of pity, and
the tears shone on her long, dark lashes, as she said:
"Mr. Graves, I sympathize with you, and I wish I might help to lift
the dark shadow that is hanging over your life, and if there is any
way that I can make Bessie, or any other member of your family
happier, I am more than willing to do so, if you will only tell me how
it may be done."
"Oh, Miss Elsworth, how much happier you could make my home if you
would. Your presence would make bright the shadows which lie around my
door. Your presence would make a paradise where otherwise would be the
loneliest, most barren desert."
"Please, Mr. Graves, do not talk to me in that way. I am not capable
of brightening any life any further than to do my duty to mankind by
helping where I can."
"You may not quite understand me, my dear Miss Elsworth. I do not say
that I dare hope for a return of love from you, but I do say that it
would make my life brighter. I know that you can win a man far better
than I am in every respect, but that does not make me love you less."
"Hush, Mr. Graves, I cannot listen to you."
"I do not blame you, but I have often wished that you were not as
grand a woman as you are--that is, so far above me--there might be
some hope for me."
"I am not above you in any respect, but I cannot listen to such words
from you."
"Why not from me?"
"Because it is not right."
"What can be wrong about my telling you that I love you?"
"I cannot tell you all the secrets of my life, but let this satisfy
you: that it would be wrong for me to tell you that I loved you, and
such a thing can never be."
"I wonder why fate is so bitterly cruel to me," said Ross, in a sad
voice.
"Perhaps, Mr. Graves, if the veil were lifted that hides the life
secrets of some of us there would be heartaches revealed even greater
than our own, though God knows I do pity you, and will acknowledge
that your sorrow is a great one and almost too hard to bear. I can
sympathize with you, for my own life has its waste places, but I try
to look over them and keep my eyes as much as I can on the flowery
hills beyond. There are few lives without clouds, and no cloud but
that will at some time break and show the silver lining."
Ross shook his head and turned sadly away.
"I know," he said, looking toward the western sky, "I do not expect
that you could love me or that you would stoop----"
"Stop," she said, in a firm, low voice. "It is not that I would need
to stoop. I am not above you in any respect."
"But, tell me truly, Miss Elsworth," Ross said, as he turned and
grasped her hand, holding it firmly in his own, "tell me, is it
because I am disgraced?"
"No, for in my eyes you are as free from sin as any man I know."
"I thank you for those words," he said, releasing her hand. "It is a
great comfort to know that you respect me."
"I have the greatest respect for you, and wish in my heart you might
be happy."
"Do not send me away without answering me one question. Do you love
another?"
"Have you a right to know the secrets of my heart?"
"Perhaps not, but if it is so I shall give you up without another
word."
"Then be satisfied that it is so."
"God help me," said Ross, as he turned to leave her.
"Ross," she said, in a low, soft voice, "do not be offended; be a
brother to me, for as such I shall always care for you."
"I will try," he said, with a smile, as he looked into her eyes, ere
he left the spot.
She watched his form as he walked up the slope, and her heart was
filled with pity.
"Poor Ross," she said, "oh, I am so sorry for him! A hopeless love is
a sad thing indeed, but how useless to mourn for a lost hope. There is
much brightness in life for him, if he will accept it. I hope he
will."
* * * * *
"Well, I jest do wonder if he will come," said Mrs. Morris, looking
down the road. "Dear me, I don't hardly know how to act if he does
come. I wonder what he'll say to me first. Perhaps, after all, he
don't mean nothin', but, la me, I don't believe he'd ever looked at me
that way if he hadn't. I don't see how Miss Elsworth can think they
hain't no use for a man about the house; why, la me, I don't look no
way, but what I see where a man would come handy. Oh, as sure as the
world there he comes. Oh, oh, what'll I ever say first? I wonder if
he'll talk the way Reuben did when he come a-courtin' me. If he does
I'll know better what to say."