A GRAVE DECISION.
From the day
I brought to England my poor searching face
(An orphan even of my father's grave);
He had loved me, watched me, watched his soul in mine,
Which in me grew, and heighten'd into love.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
"The years rolled by, but, alas! they brought no added happiness with
them. The taint in my nature that had revealed itself so unexpectedly,
only developed more strongly as time went on; at rare intervals--very
rare, I am thankful to say--fierce gusts of passion overmastered my
reason, so that for a brief time I seemed like one possessed with an
evil spirit.
"They tried everything--everything that human wisdom and kindness
could devise to save me from myself, but in vain. All causes for
offense were removed, and every possible means taken to ward off the
threatened excitement; but when the paroxysms came, they wasted no
words, no severity upon me, they simply left me to myself.
"But the punishment that followed was a terrible one. For days and
days after one of these outbreaks, sometimes for a week together, Raby
would refuse to speak to me or to hold any communication at all.
"Our walks and rides, our pleasant studies, were all broken off, every
little office and attention refused, my remarks met by a chilling
manner that drove me to silence.
"Left completely to my own society, I wandered aimlessly about the
house or sat moping over my books or work in a corner. I never sought
to rebel against the rigor of my sentence; it was a just one I knew,
and I bore it as patiently as I could. And then all at once, sometimes
when I least expected it, when I was most hopeless and forlorn, a hand
would be placed on my head in the old caressing manner, and a low
'forgiven, darling,' would bring me back to sunshine and happiness;
but, oh, how he suffered. I never knew until afterward that his
punishment was even greater than mine.
"I am speaking now of my younger days, but presently there came a time
when they treated it less as a fault than a malady; when Raby dreaded
the repentance more than the paroxysm, for so poignant was my anguish
of remorse that it threatened to prey on my health.
"Then, when they saw how I wept and strove against it, and how the
torment of my own undisciplined nature was more than I could bear,
then they grew to look upon me as one upon whom some deadly scourge
was laid--some moral sickness that they could not understand indeed,
but which, out of their great love, they could afford to pity.
"Years rolled on. Raby had passed through his university life with
honors; had gained a fellowship, and had taken orders, and accepted a
curacy some distance from Sandycliffe.
"It was only a temporary position until the church at Sandycliffe had
been restored and was ready for use; the living had been already
promised to him, and small as it was, he wished to hold it, at least
for the present. Raby was a man singularly devoid of ambition, and
though he must have been conscious that his were no common gifts, he
always told us that he did not wish a wider sphere until he had tested
his powers, and had worked a little in the home vineyard.
"At this time he was much occupied with his studies, and some
doctrinal treatise on which he was engaged; and as only Sunday duty
was required of him, he was able to be with us from Monday to
Saturday, a great boon to us, as Uncle Rolf's health was failing, and
his son's constant presence was a great comfort to him. He died when I
was about fifteen, and then Raby became master of the Grange.
"The next two years that followed were, in spite of my dear uncle's
loss, very happy ones.
"The fits of passion became more rare and decreased in violence, and
for a time ceased altogether. It seemed to be coming true what Raby
had once prophesied, that I should outgrow them when I became a woman.
"That was our chief joy; but later on, after a year or so, Hugh
Redmond came more frequently to the Grange, and by and by Margaret and
he were engaged. Raby gave his consent rather reluctantly, he always
told me he did not consider him worthy of a woman like Margaret, he
thought him weak and impulsive and without ballast; but Margaret had
lost her heart to her handsome young lover, and could see no fault in
him, and for a time all went smoothly; but I am anticipating a little.
"The event that stands prominently in my recollection was a ball that
was to be given in honor of young Egerton Trelawney, the eldest son of
a wealthy merchant living at Pierrepoint. Margaret was going, and of
course Hugh Redmond would be there, but they were not engaged then.
Margaret had induced Raby to let me accompany her, for I was nearly
seventeen then, and very womanly for my age. He consented rather
reluctantly, I thought, and the subject dropped. Another time I should
have tried to extort a more gracious permission, for my heart was set
on the ball; but for some time I had noticed a slight change in Raby's
manner to me, an imperceptible reserve that made me a little less at
my ease with him; it was not that he failed in kindness, for he had
never been so good to me, but there was certainly a slight barrier
between us. He ceased to treat me as a child, there was something
deferential in his tenderness; his eyes had a keen, watchful look in
them as they rested on me that perplexed me.
"I was beginning not to understand Raby at all; either he was not
quite happy, or I had disappointed him in some way; and yet, though I
longed to question him, an unusual shyness held me back.
"It was the evening before the ball, and Raby was in the library so
absorbed in his Hebrew manuscript that for once he had not missed me
from my accustomed place.
"The new ball dress Margaret had ordered had ordered for me in London
had just arrived, and she had coaxed me to put down my book and try it
on in case any alterations should be required. I had never seen any
gown I liked better; the rich, creamy tint just set off my olive
complexion and coils of black hair to perfection. I was quite startled
when I saw myself in the long pier glass; my neck and arms were
gleaming through the dainty, cobwebby lace, a ruby pendant sparkled
like a crimson star at my throat. Margaret was enchanted.
"'Oh, Crystal,' she exclaimed, 'how beautiful you look, just like an
Esther or Vashti with their grand Oriental faces. Come down with me
and let us startle Raby from his dusty old folios; he will think he
sees a vision.'
"I followed her smiling; I was pleased that Raby should see me in this
queenly garb. I stole gently behind his chair. 'Oh, king, live
forever,' I said, laughing, and then he turned round; and as I dropped
him a mocking courtesy he tried to suppress the exclamation that rose
to his lips.
"'Shall I do?' I continued, mischievously; 'shall I do, Raby?' and I
made a sweeping obeisance to him, such as Esther might have made to
Ahasuerus, but no like scepter of favor was extended to me.
"'Yes, you will do very nicely,' he said, curtly, and then he went
back to his folios. But I had seen the expression in his eyes, the
long, wistful look he had cast at me, and I triumphed.
"But my triumph was of brief duration. The next morning Raby treated
me with almost chilling reserve. In vain I laughed, and talked, and
strove to win him to merriment; his manner repelled all such attempts,
and I was obliged to chat with Margaret.
"'Where are you going?' I asked, presently, when he had closed his
books and was preparing to leave the room.
"'I am going up to West Point to see poor Lettie White,' he returned;
'her mother has been down this morning and tells me she is worse. You
had better not accompany me, Crystal,' for I had started up from my
chair.
"'And why not?" I exclaimed, in a hurt voice; 'it is such a delicious
morning, and there is no such place as the West Point for a breeze; it
will freshen me up for the evening.'
"'Well, do as you like,' he returned, coldly, and closed the door. The
indifference of his tone wounded me. What could I have done to offend
him; but I was never proud where Raby was concerned, so I put on my
hat and accompanied him.
"For the first mile or two we were very silent. Raby walked on with
his shoulders slightly bent, and his eyes fixed on the ground, a habit
of his when he was thinking very deeply.
"'Raby,' I said at last, rather timidly, 'I wish you would walk a
little slower, I want to talk to you;' and then he looked at me with
some surprise.
"'I was only thinking of my next Sunday's sermon,' he replied, as if
in apology for his want of attention. 'I told you you had better not
come with me, Crystal.'
"'Oh, I know you did not want me,' I answered, lightly; 'your manner
made that fact very apparent; but you see I wanted to come, and so I
had my own way. Of course I know the text you will choose, Raby. What
a pity that it is too far for me to come and hear that sermon. To
think that neither Margaret nor I have ever heard you preach, and to
lose that sermon of all others.'
"'What do you mean?' he answered, rather irritably, for my gay mood
was clashing with his somber one.
"'Oh, the text will be, "Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher. All
is vanity;" that will be your subject, Raby, will it not?'
"He turned round at that, and a smile dispelled his gravity; and then
he took my hand and put it on his arm, and held it gently there.
"'I think you have guessed my thoughts, Crystal,' he said, quietly,
'but not all of them. Do you know I have been thinking as we came
along that you and I, dear child, have reached the cross-roads of life
at last, where each must choose his or her path, and go on their way
alone.'
"'Oh, Raby,' I exclaimed in some distress as I pressed closer to him;
'what can you mean by saying anything so dreadful. I hope your path
and mine will always be the same.'
"'My dear,' he returned, gently--very gently; but there was pain and
some strange solemn meaning in his face--'I disappointed you last
night. You thought that I would not praise your finery or stoop to
flatter your innocent vanity, that I held myself aloof from your
girlish pleasure. Ah,' with a sudden change of tone, 'you little know
what brilliant vision haunted me last night and drove sleep from my
eyes; how it lured and tempted me from my sense of right; but God had
mercy on His poor priest, and strengthened his hands in the day of
battle.'
"The white abstracted look of his face, the low vehemence of his tone,
thrilled me almost painfully; never had Raby looked or spoken like
that.
"'No, my darling,' he went on, sorrowfully, 'I will never wrong the
child I have guided and protected all these years, or take advantage
of your youth and inexperience, by using my influence and condemning
you to a life for which you are not fitted. Go forth into the world
then, my Esther--did not Margaret compare you to Esther--make
experience of its pleasures, its trials, its seductions, its false
wooings, and its dazzling honors; if they tell you your beauty might
win a coronet they would be right.'
"'Raby!'
"'Hush! let me finish; go into the world that claims you, but if it
fail to please you--if it ever cast you away humbled and
broken-hearted, then come back to me, my darling, come back to Raby;
he will be praying for you here.'
"Shall I ever forget his tone; my tears fell fast as I listened to
him.
"'What do you mean?' I sobbed; 'how have I offended you? Why do you
propose to send me away from you?'
"'Nay,' he said, quietly, 'I am only speaking for your good. You are
young, Crystal, but you must be conscious, indeed your manner told me
so last night, that you have grace, beauty, and talents, triple gifts
that the world adores. You will be its idol. Make your own election,
then, my child, for you are now a woman. I will never seek to
influence you, I am only a humble priest. What has such a one to do
with a ball-room queen; the world's ways have never been my ways, for
from my youth I have determined that "for me and my house, we will
serve the Lord."'
"His calm steadfast voice awed me; every word seemed to rebuke my
vanity and presumption. Ah, I saw it all now. Raby was disappointed
with my choice; he had hoped--he had hoped otherwise.
"We had reached the end of our walk by this time. Before us was the
poor cottage where Lettie White was dying. I took my hand from Raby's
arm and sat down on the little stone bench by the bee-hives. Raby
seemed to linger a moment, as though he expected me to speak to him,
but I remained silent, and he turned away with a quick sigh and went
into the house. Soon after I heard his voice through the upper window,
where the white curtains were flapping in the breeze, and Lettie's
weak tones answering him.
"Before me was a field of crimson clover; some brown bees were busily
at work in it. There were scarlet poppies too gleaming in the hedge
down below; the waves were lapping on the sands with a soft splash and
ripple; beyond was the sea vast and crystalline, merged in misty blue.
Did I hear it with a dull whirring of repetition, or was it the voice
of my own conscience: 'For me and my house, we will serve the Lord.'
"Raby came out presently, and we walked home, still silent. The
dignity of his office was upon him; his lips were moving, perhaps in
petition for the dying girl.
"When we reached the house he went up to his room. The evening came. I
got out our German books--Raby and I were studying together--and
presently he joined me. In his absence of mind he had forgotten all
about the ball, as I knew he would, and we were both absorbed in
Schiller's magnificent 'Wallenstein' when Margaret entered, looking
what Hugh Redmond called his 'Marguerite of Marguerites,' his pearl
among women.
"Raby started and looked perplexed.
"'What, is it so late? You are dressed, Margaret, and this careless
child has not commenced her toilet. Pray help her, Maggie, she will be
dreadfully late.'
"Margaret gave me a wistful smile.
"'The carriage is here already,' she answered, quietly, 'and Mrs.
Montague is waiting. Crystal is not going to the ball, Raby.'
"'Not going?' He turned and looked at me, our eyes met, and then he
understood.
"'Does not Margaret look lovely,' I asked in assumed carelessness,
when the hall door had closed, and he came back to the room.
"For answer he took me in his arms.
"'Not half so fair as my Esther,' he said, tenderly, 'though she is
not wearing her regal dress. I thank God,' and here his voice grew low
and solemn. 'I thank God, Crystal, that my darling has chosen the
better part that shall not be taken away from her.'"