Never had Dr. Ware been more surprised than he was when Jefferson
Delavan came to him the next morning and said, without preliminary:
“I wish to tell you, Dr. Ware, sir, that I love your daughter, Miss
Rhoda, and desire to make her my wife.”
For a moment he gazed in speechless astonishment. “It seems to me, Mr.
Delavan,” he presently found tongue to say, “that you are being rather
precipitate. Have you spoken to Rhoda?”
“I have, sir. She asks for time to make sure of herself. But she does
not leave me without hope. You must remember, sir, that we knew each
other when we were children.”
“Oh, yes, for a few weeks, I believe! And you’ve been in each other’s
company a few hours since! Do you think that is long enough for you
to acquire such knowledge of each other as you ought to have before
venturing upon this important step?”
“It has been long enough, sir, for me to discover that she has a sweet
and noble nature and to know that I love her. And I do not ask from
her at present any definite promise. I ask only for your permission to
endeavor to win her love and her promise as soon as possible. You know
who I am and I am sure you will acquit me of presumption, sir, if I
remind you that my name is an honored one in my state and neighborhood.
I trust you will have any inquiries made that you like concerning my
personal character, and I shall be happy to give you at any time an
account of my financial affairs, in order that you may satisfy yourself
I can give your daughter a home and a position such as she deserves.”
“Your attitude is that of an honorable man, Mr. Delavan, and if the
matter goes on I shall take advantage of your offer.”
Dr. Ware arose and began moving back and forth across the room. “But
you are a slaveholder, I believe. Do you think it wise for two people
to marry who hold such opposing opinions about a question that both
think of importance?”
It was the young man’s turn to be surprised. He rose and looked at the
other in astonishment. “What do you mean, Dr. Ware? I thought--Miss
Charlotte--?”
“Yes, I understand. Charlotte likes to talk and she says a great deal
more than she means. But Rhoda and I are in sympathy on the question of
slavery, and I am what you southern people call a fanatic and a black
abolitionist. If I had supposed that our meeting on the boat would lead
to anything more than mere passing acquaintance I would have spoken of
my sentiments then.”
“It seems to me, sir, that if husband and wife love each other truly,
matters of opinion are of little consequence between them.”
Dr. Ware shook his head gravely. “A matter of opinion? My young friend,
it is much more than that, for both of you. But this is something for
you and Rhoda to settle between yourselves. As for me, it would grieve
me deeply to see Rhoda marry you, just because you are a slaveholder,
and I must tell you right now that whatever influence I have with my
daughter shall be used against your suit. Nevertheless,”--he held
out his hand, the young man gripped it, and they shook hands warmly,
although each saw kindling in the other’s eyes the fires of opposition.
“Nevertheless,” Dr. Ware went on, “you have my consent to win her if
you can. Frankly, though, I don’t believe you can do it after she
realizes that to be your wife she must be the mistress of slaves.”
While Delavan was having his interview with her father, Rhoda, clasped
in her mother’s arms, was hearing exclamations of delight and forecasts
of happiness: “Rhoda, dear! how happy this makes me! Yes, I know, you
haven’t given him a final answer--and that’s quite right--keep him
off for a while--don’t let him think you’re easily won--but of course
you’ll have him finally! Oh, Rhoda, my little girl--to think that
you’re going to marry Adeline’s boy! If she knows--up in heaven--she’s
just as pleased over it as I am! If she could only have lived to see
it! And he’s such a dear fellow! Rhoda, dear, you’ll be so happy, I
know you will--and it is such a beautiful life down there!”
She heard her younger daughter whistling in the hall. “There’s
Charlotte,” she exclaimed. “I think I’d better send her downtown on
some errand.” And wiping tears of joy from her eyes she hurried out
to complete her plan of eliminating Charlotte from the life of the
household for the rest of the morning.
Rhoda went down to the veranda, taking with her the white silk out of
which she was making a bonnet for her mother, with her heart full of
tenderest emotion. Mrs. Ware’s delight and enthusiasm had made still
warmer and deeper her own thrilling happiness. As her fingers flew
over her work she listened to the faint tones of her lover’s voice,
and a soft glow stole into her eyes. Delavan surprised it there when
presently he came from her father’s office.
“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. She saw the love-light flame across his face and
the color mounted to her brow. He sought to take her hand, but she drew
it away, saying shyly, “Not yet.”
He went into the house to bid Mrs. Ware good-by, for he was going at
once, in order to catch the forenoon trip of the ferry boat across the
river. When he came out Rhoda put down her work and walked with him
down the broad path between the hedges of lilac to the front gate.
“When can I have my answer?” he pleaded. “The next time I come?”
On the instant there sprang up in her heart a something she had
never felt before. It was not the first time she had listened to the
pleadings of a would-be lover, but never before had there been one
who had not got his answer, frank and straightforward, at once; never
one toward whom she had felt this instinctive impulse to enjoy his
suspense. Serious-minded offspring of her father though she was, yet
it was not for nothing that she was her mother’s daughter. Already she
knew what her answer was to be and knew that she could give it to him
at any moment. Her short upper lip lifted in a flashing little smile
that illumined her whole face. Delavan drew toward her, his eyes upon
the soft curves of her mouth.
“How can I tell?” she said. “There is so much to think over--I must
have time.”
“Your mother would be very pleased!”
“Yes, dear mother, I know,” she murmured fondly. “She loved your mother
so dearly. And father? You talked with him, just now?”
“He says that I may win you if I can.” It did not occur to him to say
anything about the doubt Dr. Ware had expressed of his success, or the
attitude her father had warningly declared he would take. All that
had been swept out of his mind--he had not even thought it of much
consequence at the time. And now, looking down upon Rhoda’s blushing
face, he forgot everything but the hope that if he could induce her to
lift her downcast eyes he might surprise surrender therein. But he was
to be disappointed in that, for when presently he did look into their
gray depths they were merely gentle and serious.
“When may I come again?”
“We shall all be glad to see you whenever you come--Mr. Delavan--”
“At least you might call me Jeff,” he interrupted, “as you did when we
were children!”
“Well then, Jeff,” and her manner took on with the word a shade more
of intimacy, which sent his eyes flying once more to hers. “I’m
sure--Jeff--” this time she said it mockingly--“mother will be pleased
if you come again soon. And we’ll all be glad to see you.”
“And you?”
“Of course! There’s so much we haven’t talked over yet about those
happy days we had so long ago-- And we might play pirates again--if
you’ll bring Lloyd Corey with you! He was such a nice boy! I’d really
like to see him again.”
“Confound Lloyd Corey! Shall I have to carry you off, as I did that
time, or shall you have something to tell me then?”
“Oh, I can’t promise--” she hesitated and her voice took on an
intonation as she spoke his name that sent a thrill to his
heart,--“Jeff--anything about it--what I shall say, or whether I can
have anything to say then, more than now. But I would like to see Lloyd
Corey again!”
Leaning upon the gate, Rhoda watched her lover’s figure as he swung
down the long, tree-bowered street. When she turned she saw her father
coming down the path and waited there, blushing and casting up at him
now and again a shy glance.
“Young Delavan surprised me very much just now,” he began. “I told him,
as I suppose he reported to you, that he had my consent to win you
if he could. I don’t suppose, though, that he also told you I didn’t
believe he could and that it would grieve me deeply to see you marry
him.”
Rhoda bent upon him surprised eyes. “Why, father, what do you mean?
Don’t you like him?”
“Yes, Rhoda, I like him well enough, personally, but you know how
I feel about slavery and all who are responsible for it. Have you
forgotten that Jefferson Delavan is a slaveholder?”
The color faded from her face, and into her wide, gray eyes, fastened
upon his, there came a look, as of some wild thing suddenly stricken,
that smote his heart. She flinched a little and he turned away, that he
might not see her pain.
“I guess, daughter, you hadn’t thought about that,” he went on, kindly.
“No,” she repeated after him, “I--I hadn’t thought about that.”
“But you knew that he has slaves, that he works his plantation with
slave labor?”
“Yes, father, I knew it, somewhere back in my mind, but I didn’t think
anything about it. I didn’t think of anything but--just him!”
“But you’ll have to think about it now,” he said in a gently suggestive
tone.
“Yes,” she assented dully, “I’ll have to think about it now”--she
stopped, then went on with a flash of pain in her tone, “when I can
think!”
“You must try to realize,” her father went on, “before it is too late,
how you would like to be the mistress of slaves, supported by slave
labor, your welfare and all your interests so bound up with the system
of slavery that you will be forced to become one of its defenders.”
Her head drooped and she turned away with a little gesture of one hand
as though begging him to stop. He waited a moment and she faced him
again and said slowly, with little breaks and catchings of her breath:
“Father! I don’t believe I could do it! I--love him--I want to be his
wife--but--slaves! I couldn’t! I know I couldn’t!”
She broke down then and began to sob softly under her breath. He put
his hand through her arm and led her up the path to the house.
Mrs. Ware came out to meet them, anxiety in her face. “What is it?
What’s the matter?” she questioned.
Rhoda straightened up and rested one hand upon her mother’s shoulder.
Mrs. Ware was short and plump of stature and Rhoda, tall and of slender
build like her father, looked down into her face with tear-filled eyes.
“Mother,” she began, her tone already self-controlled, “I’m afraid
you’ll feel badly about it, but--I don’t think I can marry Jeff
Delavan, after all.”
“Rhoda! Child! What is the trouble? What have you been saying to her,
Amos?”
“There, mother! You mustn’t blame father. He only reminded me that
Jeff is a slaveholder. Of course, I knew it before, but I--just hadn’t
thought about it. Mother, you’ll think me foolish, I know, but I
don’t--I don’t think I can marry him.”
“Is that all? Dear child, you’re making a mountain out of nothing at
all! Come with me, dear. Your father has been putting foolish notions
into your head. Come, we’ll talk it over, and you’ll soon see there’s
nothing in that to keep you apart!”
Rhoda bent her head for a moment upon her mother’s shoulder and, half
reluctantly drawing herself from her father’s arm, which seemed even
more unwilling to let her go, started into the house.
In their absorption they had not heard Charlotte coming up the walk.
“What’s the matter?” she exclaimed, seizing her father’s hand. “Is
Rhoda sick?”
“You may tell her, father,” Rhoda turned to say, as she and Mrs. Ware
disappeared through the door.
“Well, what is it?” Charlotte demanded briskly, as her father hesitated.
“Jeff Delavan wants to marry her.”
“Humph! Is that anything to cry about?” she commented, sitting down on
the veranda step. “Where is he? Is he crying too?”
“He’s gone home--he went a little while ago.”
She looked up surprised. “Oh, has he? I thought he’d still be here. But
what’s Rhoda crying about? Because he’s gone away so soon? Then why
didn’t she keep him? She didn’t refuse him, did she?”
“No, she didn’t give him a definite answer. And since he went away she
has remembered that he is a slaveholder. You know how she and I feel
about slavery.”
Charlotte sprang to her feet excitedly. “You don’t mean to say she’s
going to take that into account! I didn’t think she could be such a
goose!” She looked up at him with twinkling eyes. “Father, why didn’t
you take me down to Cincinnati with you, so he could have seen me
first? Oh, well, I suppose he’ll come back again, won’t he?” And with
a toss of her head she ran into the house, stopping at the door to
throw back at him an audacious laugh.
He gazed after her, an indulgent smile on his face. Did the look of
her and the ring of her saucy laugh awaken some memory of the long ago
wherein flitted another dainty, girlish figure so much like her that
she sometimes startled him? At any rate, a still warmth took possession
of his heart and drove out the slight resentment that just now crept
in when his wife took Rhoda away to try to induce her to a course of
action so directly opposed to his own convictions.