THE NEW-FOUND HEIR.
_Ernest._—Which is the bridegroom?
_Wilhelm._—Marry! the heir.
_—Newman._
Magnus had returned home with his cousin. The next day the family from
the Hollow dined at Mount Calm, by invitation. General Garnet was still
cold and reserved to Magnus, but showed the most marked attention to
Lionel. This at first surprised Dr. Hardcastle; but soon, with a haughty
curl of the lip, he thought:
“I see how it is; fortune has changed. I have lost an inheritance.”
After dinner Lionel told a tale of an Algerine cruiser, of a long
captivity, of a hair-breadth escape, but left as vague an impression of
reality upon the minds of his hearers as it leaves now upon the minds of
my readers. They did not doubt his story, but they could not well
connect the effeminate beauty of the man with any life of
pirate-adventure and slavery hardships.
Elsie was saddened for the first time in her life, and she scarcely knew
wherefore. During the short estrangement between herself and her lover
she had been nervous, anxious, excitable; now she was depressed. She
loved her mother very tenderly; she loved her father passionately; and
Magnus she loved—oh, how shall I say?—with an infinite future
reservation. But now she saw a cloud—she was too guileless to know
wherefore—settle and deepen, dark, cold, and chill, between her lover
and her father; and the happy, buoyant Elsie grew pensive and
thoughtful. General Garnet, with all his coldness, was studiously
polite; and Magnus was self-possessed and social.
As this day passed—as far as the relative positions of some of the
parties were concerned—so passed the weeks, and brought the day upon
which Judge Wylie’s party was to be given.
There was a heavy cloud of thought and care upon the brow of General
Garnet; and those who knew him well surmised that he was considering the
best manner of transferring the hand of the heiress of Mount Calm from
the poor doctor to the rich heir of Hemlock Hollow.
Magnus continued his visits, as usual, undisturbed by the freezing
exterior of General Garnet.
Alice always received him with affection; and Elsie’s manner to him was
earnest, affectionate, deferential, as if she wished to make up for her
father’s coldness. She was no longer shy and diffident. It seemed as if
the presentiment of some impending misfortune, which she felt rather
than understood, had thrown down the barriers of her reserve, and that
she could not do too much, in her sweet, feminine way, to assure Magnus
of her unchangeable affection and unswerving truth. Her eyes waited on
him, shyly, all day long, for her maiden pride was self-subdued, but not
her maidenly delicacy. Elsie had no suspicion of what her father really
meant until the morning of the day upon which Judge Wylie’s ball was to
be given. General Garnet called Elsie into his room, and having
explained in his polite way—he was polite even to his child—that
circumstances beyond all human calculation or control had rendered it
expedient that a new adjustment of affairs should take place, and that
she must no longer look upon Magnus Hardcastle in the light of a suitor
for her hand, but must, on the contrary, prepare herself to think of,
and accept, Lionel Hardcastle, to whom he had given permission to visit
her—Elsie opened wide her eyes in undisguised astonishment, that her
father, her revered father, should ask her to break her plighted faith;
but without one atom of terror, and without an instant’s hesitation, she
answered:
“Why, father, being engaged to Magnus, with yours and mother’s consent,
I would no more forsake him now than if I were already his wedded wife.”
“We shall see, Miss Garnet. I will give you time,” replied the General,
in his soft, but sarcastic, manner.
“Father,” said Elsie, her cheek burning with shame and indignation, “if
I should give you to suppose that any lapse of time could alter my
determination, I should be a coward or a hypocrite. Father, I would not
have engaged myself without your consent and my mother’s, for I should
have felt that to be wrong; but having engaged myself with your consent
and blessing, I will not break that engagement, come what may. I
promised, with your approbation, to give my hand to Dr. Hardcastle on
Thursday week, and Thursday week, father, I must do it. Dr. Hardcastle
has lost an inheritance; an event which he rejoices in, since it gives
his uncle back a dearly beloved and long-lost son. But he must not lose
his wife, father; he shall not.”
General Garnet stood like one thunderstruck. His wife had never ventured
to oppose his will, except
“To plead, lament, and sue,”
to avert some cruel deed. His servants had ever trembled before him. His
very neighbors and associates had fallen into the habit of yielding to
his inflexible will; and here was a little girl of seventeen years of
age, with positively her own notions of right and wrong, of faith and
infidelity, of honor and dishonor—and telling him, with a high,
unblanching cheek, and a clear, unfaltering voice, that she meant to
abide by right, and eschew wrong! He turned pale with suppressed rage;
his eyes gleamed with their sinister light; he clenched his fist, and
made one step towards her, but retreated again, and dropped his hand.
The polished “gentleman” asserted its supremacy of habit over the angry
“man.” It would not be _comme-il-faut_ for “General Garnet” to give
“Miss Garnet” a good drubbing with his fists; besides, there was a look
of calm, healthful moral strength about the mere child that forcibly
impressed him.
“Father, this thing came suddenly upon me, and surprised me out of my
self-possession, and the respect that is due to you. I spoke hastily,
and, I fear, irreverently. I earnestly repent it, and ask your pardon.
Forgive me,” said Elsie; and she approached, and would have offered
herself in his embrace; but General Garnet extended his hand, and waved
her off.
“Do I understand you to say, Miss Garnet, that you repent your foolish
decision? If so, I am sincerely rejoiced to hear it.”
“No, sir. Always, father, and in all else, I will be your submissive
child. But for this, sir, you, yourself, laid on me this other duty,
which I cannot shake off. Forgive me.”
General Garnet looked at her steadily, while gleamed that red light from
his dark eyes, and slowly shook his head, as communing with himself.
Then, turning suddenly, and muttering something that sounded very much
like a threat to “break her will or break her heart,” he left the room;
and Elsie sank down in her chair, and leaning upon the windowsill,
raised her eyes to heaven, “full of thought and prayer.”