THE BOY'S LOVE
Endearing! endearing!
Why so endearing
Are those soft shining eyes,
Through their silk fringe peering?
They love thee! they love thee!
Deeply, sincerely;
And more than aught else on earth
Thou lovest them dearly!
--Motherwell.
While these dark conspiracies were hatching elsewhere, all was comfort,
peace and love in the doctor's quiet dwelling.
Under Marah Rocke's administration the business of the household went on
with the regularity of clockwork. Every one felt the advantage of this
improved condition.
The doctor often declared that for his part he could not for the life of
him think how they had ever been able to get along without Mrs. Rocke
and Traverse.
Clara affirmed that however the past might have been, the mother and son
were a present and future necessity to the doctor's comfort and
happiness.
The little woman herself gained rapidly both health and spirits and good
looks. Under favorable circumstances, Marah Rocke, even at thirty-six,
would have been esteemed a first-rate beauty; and even now she was
pretty, graceful and attractive to a degree that she herself was far
from suspecting.
Traverse advanced rapidly in his studies, to the ardent pursuit of which
he was urged by every generous motive that could fire a human
bosom--affection for his mother, whose condition he was anxious to
elevate; gratitude to his patron, whose great kindness he wished to
justify, and admiration for Clara, whose esteem he was ambitious to
secure.
He attended his patron in all his professional visits; for the doctor
said that actual, experimental knowledge formed the most important part
of a young medical student's education.
The mornings were usually passed in reading, in the library; the middle
of the day in attending the doctor on his professional visits, and the
evenings were passed in the drawing-room with the doctor, Clara and Mrs.
Rocke. And if the morning's occupation was the most earnest and the
day's the most active, the evening's relaxation with Clara and music and
poetry was certainly the most delightful! In the midst of all this peace
and prosperity a malady was creeping upon the boy's heart and brain
that, in his simplicity and inexperience, he could neither understand
nor conquer.
Why was it that these evening fireside meetings with the doctor's lovely
daughter, once such unalloyed delight, were now only a keenly pleasing
pain? Why did his face burn and his heart beat and his voice falter when
obliged to speak to her? Why could he no longer talk of her to his
mother, or write of her to his friend, Herbert Greyson? Above all, why
had his favorite day dream of having his dear friends, Herbert and Clara
married together, grown so abhorrent as to sicken his very soul?
Traverse himself could not have answered these questions. In his
ignorance of life he did not know that all his strong, ardent, earnest
nature was tending toward the maiden by a power of attraction seated in
the deepest principles of being and of destiny.
Clara in her simplicity did not suspect the truth; but tried in every
innocent way to enliven the silent boy, and said that he worked too
hard, and begged her father not to let him study too much.
Whereupon the doctor would laugh and bid her not be uneasy about
Traverse--that the boy was all right and would do very well! Evidently
the doctor, with all his knowledge of human nature, did not perceive
that his protege was in process of forming an unadvisable attachment to
his daughter and heiress.
Mrs. Rocke, with her woman's tact and mother's forethought, saw all! She
saw that in the honest heart of her poor boy, unconsciously there was
growing up a strong, ardent, earnest passion for the lovely girl with
whom he was thrown in such close, intimate, daily association, and who
was certainly not indifferent in her feelings toward him; but whom he
might never, never hope to possess.
She saw this daily growing, and trembled for the peace of both. She
wondered at the blindness of the doctor, who did not perceive what was
so plain to her own vision. Daily she looked to see the eyes of the
doctor open and some action taken upon the circumstances; but they did
not open to the evil ahead, for the girl and boy! for morning after
morning their hands would be together tying up the same vines, or
clearing out the same flower bed; day after day at the doctor's orders
Traverse attended Clara on her rides; night after night their blushing
faces would be bent over the same sketch book, chess board, or music
sheet.
"Oh! if the doctor cannot and will not see, what shall I do? What ought
I to do?" said the conscientious little woman to herself, dreading above
all things, and equally for her son and the doctor's daughter, the evils
of an unhappy attachment, which she, with her peculiar temperament and
experiences, believed to be the worst of sorrows--a misfortune never to
be conquered or outlived.
"Yes! It is even better that we should leave the house than that
Traverse should become hopelessly attached to Clara; or, worse than all,
that he should repay the doctor's great bounty by winning the heart of
his only daughter," said Marah Rocke to herself; and so "screwing her
courage to the sticking place," she took an opportunity one morning
early while Traverse and Clara were out riding, to go into the study to
speak to the doctor.
As usual, he looked up with a smile to welcome her as she entered; but
her downcast eyes and serious face made him uneasy, and he hastened to
inquire if she was not well, or if anything had happened to make her
anxious, and at the same time he placed a chair and made her sit in it.
"Yes, I am troubled, doctor, about a subject that I scarcely know how to
break to you," she said, in some considerable embarrassment.
"Mrs. Rocke, you know I am your friend, anxious to serve you! Trust in
me, and speak out!"
"Well, sir," said Marah, beginning to roll up the corner of her apron,
in her embarrassment, "I should not presume to interfere, but you do not
see; gentlemen, perhaps, seldom do until it is too late." She paused,
and the good doctor turned his head about, listening first with one ear
and then with the other, as if he thought by attentive hearing he might
come to understand her incomprehensible words.
"Miss Clara has the misfortune to be without a mother, or an aunt, or
any lady relative----"
"Oh, yes, I know it, my dear madam; but then I am sure you
conscientiously try to fill the place of a matronly friend and adviser
to my daughter," said the doctor, striving after light.
"Yes, sir, and it is in view of my duties in this relation that I say--I
and Traverse ought to go away."
"You and Traverse go away! My good little woman, you ought to be more
cautious how you shock a man at my time of life--fifty is a very
apoplectic age to a full-blooded man, Mrs. Rocke! But now that I have
got over the shock, tell me why you fancy that you and Traverse ought to
go away?"
"Sir, my son is a well-meaning boy----"
"A high-spirited, noble-hearted lad!" put in the doctor. "I have never
seen a better!"
"But granting all that to be what I hope and believe it is--true, still,
Traverse Rocke is not a proper or desirable daily associate for Miss
Day."
"Why?" curtly inquired the doctor.
"If Miss Clara's mother were living, sir, she would probably tell you
that young ladies should never associate with any except their equals of
the opposite sex," said Marah Rocke.
"Clara's dear mother, were she on earth, would understand and sympathize
with me, and esteem your Traverse as I do, Mrs. Rocke," said the doctor,
with moist eyes and a tremulous voice.
"But oh, sir, exceeding kind as you are to Traverse, I dare not, in
duty, look on and see things going the way in which they are, and not
speak and ask your consent to withdraw Traverse!"
"My good little friend," said the doctor, rising and looking kindly and
benignantly upon Marah, "My good little woman 'sufficient unto the day
is the evil thereof!' Suppose you and I trust a little in Divine
Providence, and mind our own business?"
"But, sir, it seems to me a part of our business to watch over the young
and inexperienced, that they fall into no snare."
"And also to treat them with 'a little wholesome neglect' that our
over-officiousness may plunge them into none!"
"I wish you would comprehend me, sir!"
"I do, and applaud your motives; but give yourself no further trouble!
Leave the young people to their own honest hearts and to Providence.
Clara, with all her softness, is a sensible girl, and as for Traverse,
if he is one to break his heart from an unhappy attachment, I have been
mistaken in the lad, that is all!" said the doctor, heartily.
Mrs. Rocke sighed, and, saying, "I deemed it my duty to speak to you,
sir, and having done so, I have no more to say," she slightly curtsied
and withdrew.
"He does not see! His great benevolence blinds him! In his wish to serve
us he exposes Traverse to the most dreadful misfortune--the misfortune
of becoming hopelessly attached to one far above him in station, whom he
can never expect to possess!" said Marah Rocke to herself, as she
retired from the room.
"I must speak to Traverse himself and warn him against this snare," she
said, as she afterward ruminated over the subject.
And accordingly that evening, when she had retired to her chamber and
heard Traverse enter the little adjoining room where he slept, she
called him in, and gave him a seat, saying that she must have some
serious conversation with him.
The boy looked uneasy, but took the offered chair and waited for his
mother to speak.
"Traverse," she said, "a change has come over you recently that may
escape all other eyes but those of your mother; she, Traverse, cannot be
blind to anything that seriously affects her boy's happiness."
"Mother, I scarcely know what you mean," said the youth in
embarrassment.
"Traverse, you are beginning to think too much of Miss Day."
"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the boy, while a violent blush overspread and
empurpled his face! Then in a little while and in faltering tones he
inquired. "Have I betrayed, in any way, that I do?"
"To no one but to me, Traverse, to me whose anxiety for your happiness
makes me watchful; and now, dear boy, you must listen to me. I know it
is very sweet to you, to sit in a dark corner and gaze on Clara, when no
one, not even herself, witnesses your joy, and to lie awake and think
and dream of her when no eye but that of God looks down upon your heart;
and to build castles in the air for her and for you; all this I know is
very sweet, but, Traverse, it is a sweet poison--fatal if indulged
in--fatal to your peace and integrity."
"Oh, my mother! Oh, my mother! What are you telling me!" exclaimed
Traverse, bitterly.
"Unpalatable truths, dear boy, but necessary antidotes to that sweet
poison of which you have already tasted too much."
"What would you have me to do, my mother?"
"Guard your acts and words, and even thoughts; forbear to look at, or
speak to, or think of Clara, except when it is unavoidable--or if you
do, regard her as she is--one so far beyond your sphere as to be forever
unattainable!"
"Oh, mother, I never once dreamed of such presumption as to think
of--of"--The youth paused and a deep blush again overspread his face.
"I know you have not indulged presumptuous thoughts as yet, my boy, and
it is to warn you against them, while yet your heart is in some measure
within your own keeping, that I speak to you. Indulge your imagination
in no more sweet reveries about Miss Day, for the end thereof will be
bitter humiliation and disappointment. Remember also that in so doing
you would indulge a sort of treachery against your patron, who in his
great faith in your integrity has received you in the bosom of his
family and admitted you to an almost brotherly intimacy with his
daughter. Honor his trust in you, and treat his daughter with the
distant respect due to a princess."
"I will, mother! It will be hard, but I will! Oh, an hour ago I did not
dream how miserable I should be now!" said Traverse, in a choking voice.
"Because I have pointed out to you the gulf toward which you were
walking blindfolded!"
"I know it! I know it now, mother," said Traverse, as he arose and
pressed his mother's hand and hurried to his own room.
The poor youth did his best to follow out the line of conduct prescribed
for him by his mother. He devoted himself to his studies and to the
active service of his patron. He avoided Clara as much as possible, and
when obliged to be in her company, he treated her with the most
respectful reserve.
Clara saw and wondered at his change of manner, and began to cast about
in her own mind for the probable cause of his conduct.
"I am the young mistress of the house," said Clara to herself, "and I
know I owe to every inmate of it consideration and courtesy; perhaps I
may have been unconsciously lacking in these toward Traverse, whose
situation would naturally render him very sensitive to neglect. I must
endeavor to convince him that none was intended." And so resolving,
Clara redoubled all her efforts to make Traverse, as well as others,
happy and comfortable.
But happiness and comfort seemed for the time to have departed from the
youth. He saw her generous endeavors to cheer him, and while adoring her
amiability, grew still more reserved.
This pained the gentle girl, who, taking herself seriously to task,
said:
"Oh, I must have deeply wounded his feelings in some unconscious way!
And if so, how very cruel and thoughtless of me! How could I have done
it? I cannot imagine! But I know I shall not allow him to continue
unhappy if I can prevent it! I will speak to him about it."
And then in the candor, innocence and humility of her soul, she followed
him to the window where he stood in a moody silence, and said
pleasantly:
"Traverse, we do not seem to be so good friends as formerly. If I have
done anything to offend you, I know that you will believe me when I say
that it was quite unintentional on my part and that I am very sorry for
it, and hope you will forget it."
"You--you--Miss Day! You say anything to displease anybody! Any one
become displeased with you!" exclaimed the youth in a tremulous
enthusiasm that shook his voice and suffused his cheeks.
"Then if you are not displeased, Traverse, what is the matter, and why
do you call me Miss Day instead of Clara?"
"Miss Day, because it is right that I should. You are a young lady--the
only daughter and heiress of Doctor Day of Willow Heights, while I
am----"
"His friend," said Clara.
"The son of his housekeeper," said Traverse, walking away.
Clara looked after him in dismay for a moment, and then sat down and
bent thoughtfully over her needlework.
From that day Traverse grew more deeply in love and more reserved than
before. How could it be otherwise, domesticated as he was, with this
lovely girl and becoming daily more sensible of her beauty, goodness and
intelligence? Yet he struggled against his inevitable attachment as a
great treachery. Meantime he made rapid progress in his medical studies.
It was while affairs were in this state that one morning the doctor
entered the study holding the morning paper in his hand. Seating himself
in his leathern armchair at the table, he said:
"I see, my dear Traverse, that a full course of lectures is to be
commenced at the medical college in Washington, and I think that you are
sufficiently far advanced in your studies to attend them with great
advantage--what say you?"
"Oh, sir!" said Traverse, upon whom the proposition had burst quite
unexpectedly, "I should indeed be delighted to go if that were
possible."
"There is no 'if' about it, my boy; if you wish to go, you shall do so.
I have made up my mind to give you a professional education, and shall
not stop half way."
"Oh, sir, the obligation--the overwhelming obligation you lay upon me!"
"Nonsense, Traverse! it is only a capital investment of funds! If I were
a usurer I could not put out money to a better advantage. You will repay
me by-and-by with compound interest; so just consider all that I may be
able to do for you as a loan to be repaid when you shall have achieved
success."
"I am afraid, sir, that that time will never----"
"No, you are not!" interrupted the doctor, "and so don't let modesty run
into hypocrisy. Now put up your books and go and tell your good little
mother to get your clothes all ready for you to go to Washington, for
you shall start by the next coach."
Much surprise was created in the little household by the news that
Traverse was going immediately to Washington to attend the medical
lectures. There were but two days to prepare his wardrobe for the
journey. Mrs. Rocke went cheerfully to work; Clara lent her willing and
skilful aid, and at the end of the second day his clothes, in perfect
order, were all neatly packed in his trunk.
And on the morning of the third day Traverse took leave of his mother
and Clara, and for the first time left home to go into the great world.
Doctor Day accompanied him in the old green gig as far as Staunton,
where he took the stage.
As soon as they had left the house Marah Rocke went away to her own room
to drop a few natural tears over this first parting with her son. Very
lonely and desolate the mother felt as she stood weeping by the window,
and straining her eyes to catch a distant view of the old green gig that
had already rolled out of sight.
While she stood thus in her loneliness and desolation, the door silently
opened, a footstep softly crossed the floor, a pair of arms was put
around her neck, and Clara Day dropped her head upon the mother's bosom
and wept softly.
Marah Rocke pressed that beautiful form to her breast, and felt with
dismay that the doctor's sweet daughter already returned her boy's
silent love!