FANCIES AND PREMONITIONS.
It seemed a wonder that Mrs. Lee ever could have been a beautiful woman
like her daughter, for she had faded sadly during her illness. Her hair
was still thick and long, but the mountain snow was not whiter. Her
face, too, was of opaque paleness; while her delicate eyebrows were
black as jet; and the large eyes beneath them had lost nothing of their
penetrating brightness.
Mrs. Lee was lying on the couch, in the light of a broad window which
opened to the south; the balcony was as usual filled with plants, and
every morning her couch was moved, and the window drapery put back that
she might command some feature in the landscape over which her eye had
not wearied the day before. It was a harmless enjoyment, and one which
the whole family loved to encourage. Indeed, there was not a fancy or
caprice of hers which was ever questioned in that house.
"Ah, Martha, it is you; I am glad of it. For when I am ill at ease, you
always do me good."
She held out her little thin hand while speaking, and pressed mine
almost imperceptibly.
"What has happened, Martha? During the last half hour something
oppresses me, as if the atmosphere were disturbed; yet it is a clear
day, and the roses on the terrace look brighter than usual."
"Nothing has happened, dear lady. Mr. Lee has come back from town,
bringing the lady we all expected."
"Mrs. Dennison?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dennison. She has just gone to her room."
Mrs. Lee closed her eyes a moment and opened them with a faint smile,
which seemed to ask pardon for some weakness.
"Have you seen her?"
"Yes. I was in the parlor when she came, and went with her to her room."
"And you like her better than at first, I hope?"
I hesitated.
"She is beautiful!"
"Yes, in a certain way," I answered; "but when one has got used to our
Jessie's style, nothing else seems to equal it."
The mother smiled and held out her hand again.
"You love Jessie?"
I felt the tears filling my eyes. There was something so tender and
sweet in this question that it made a child of me. The mother turned
upon her couch, bent her lips to my hand, and dropped it gently from her
hold.
"Martha Hyde, what is this which troubles me?"
"Indeed, I cannot tell."
"Does Jessie seem happy with her friend?"
"Very happy; I have seldom seen her so animated."
"But you have not told me plainly. Do you like this lady?"
"I--I cannot tell. She is beautiful; at least most people would think
her so;--rich, I believe?"
I rather put this as a question.
"I think so. She had splendid rooms at the hotel, you know, and spent
money freely, so Mr. Lee was told; but that is of little consequence; we
want nothing of her riches if she has them."
"Certainly not; but if she has expensive habits without the means of
gratifying them within herself, it is an important proof of character,"
I said. "May I ask, dear lady, who really recommended Mrs. Dennison to
you or your daughter?"
"Oh! a good many people spoke highly of her; she was a general
favorite!"
"Yes; but did you meet any person who had known her long?--who had been
acquainted with her husband, for instance?"
"No, I cannot remember any such person."
"And you invited her? she said so."
"That is it. I cannot quite call to mind that I did invite her.
Something was said about our house being among pleasant scenery, and she
expressed a desire to see it. I may have said that I really hoped she
would see it some time; and then she thanked me as if I had urged her to
come. Still Jessie liked her so much that I was rather pleased than
otherwise, and so it rested."
"Well," I said, "if Jessie is pleased, that is everything, you know,
madam. I sometimes think the dear girl ought to have the company of
younger persons about her."
"Yes, certainly; but with a girl like my Jessie, so sensitive, so proud,
for she is very proud, Martha."
"I know it," was my answer. "I have never seen more sensitive pride in
any person of her age."
"Well, with a disposition like that, the kind of young person she is
intimate with is very important. This is the reason I wished to see you
and learn if your opinion has not changed regarding our guests; my own
feelings are strangely disturbed."
"You are not as well as usual this morning," I replied. "Let me draw the
couch nearer and open a leaf of the window."
She assented, and I drew the couch so close to the window that with a
sash open she could command a view of the richest corner of the
flower-garden and a slope of the lawn. The wind swept pleasantly over
the balcony, in which pots of rose geraniums and heliotrope had been
placed. Mrs. Lee loved the breath of these flowers, and sighed faintly
as it floated over her with the fresh morning air.
She lay some time in this pleasant position without speaking. When she
was disposed to be thoughtful, we seldom disturbed her, for so sensitive
had disease rendered her nerves, that the sudden sound of a voice would
make her start and tremble like a criminal. So I kept my place behind
the couch, looking down into the garden, and thinking of many things.
All at once, sweet, dear voices rose from among the flowers, and I saw
our Jessie and the widow Dennison turning a corner of the house, each
with an arm around the other's waist, laughing and chatting together.
Jessie had not changed her dress, but a cluster of crimson roses glowed
in her hair, and coral bracelets tinted the transparency of her sleeves.
The sun touched the black braid which surrounded her head as she came
out of the shadow, and no raven's plumage was ever more glossy.
Mrs. Dennison was strangely attired. The period of which I speak was
about the time the Zouave jacket took its brief picturesque reign. This
woman was, in a degree, her own inventor of fashions, and something very
similar to this jacket fell over the loose habit-skirt that draped her
bosom and arms. This garment of black silk, richly braided, matched the
rustling skirt of her dress, and the Oriental design of the whole was
completed by a net of blue and gold, which shaded half her rich brown
hair, and fell in tassels to her left shoulder.
In my whole life I never saw a more striking contrast than these two
persons presented. I cannot tell you where it lay. Not in the
superiority which the widow possessed in height--not in her elaborate
grace. Jessie was a little above the medium height herself, and a more
elegant creature did not live. But there was something which struck you
at once. It is of no use attempting to define it. The difference was to
be imagined, not explained. The mother felt it, I am certain, for her
eyes took a strange, anxious lustre as they fell on those two young
persons, and she began to breathe irregularly, as if something oppressed
her.
She looked up to me at last to see if I was watching them. I smiled and
said, "At any rate, she is a splendid creature."
"No one can dispute that! But our Jessie! Do you know, as I was looking
at them, something came across me. Through the hazy light which settled
around me, I saw a bird with its wings outspread flitting in the folds
of a serpent? The picture passed through my brain one instant, and was
gone--gone before Jessie, who had stooped to gather something, regained
her position. This has happened before in my life--what can it be?"
"You are anxious and nervous, dear lady, that is all. Since your visit
to the sea-side, these strange visions have become more common."
"I hope they will pass off," she murmured, pressing a pale hand over her
eyes. "But there was another in the group; behind Jessie's frightened
face, I saw that of Mr. Lee."
While she was speaking, I saw Mr. Lee come out of the hall-door, and
cross the platform which led to the garden, where his daughter and her
guest were walking. He was a handsome man, still in the very prime of
life, one of the most distinguished persons that I ever saw. It was from
him that our Jessie had inherited her queenly pride, which the exquisite
sensibility of the mother's nature had softened into grace.
Mrs. Lee closed her eyes, and I saw her lips turn pale; but she repulsed
my approach with a motion of the hand. I have no idea what she had seen
which escaped me. But when I looked again, Mr. Lee was talking with his
daughter; while the widow stood by, grouping some flowers which she held
coquettishly in her hand. I saw Mr. Lee look at her, indifferently at
first, then with smiling interest. They were evidently talking of her
graceful work, for she held it up for both father and daughter to
admire.
As Jessie lifted her eyes, she saw us near the window, and, forgetting
the bouquet, waved a kiss to her mother. That instant I saw the widow
press the bouquet lightly to her lips.
Mr. Lee reached forth his hand; but she shook her head, laughed, and
placed the flowers in her bosom.
Mrs. Lee was not in a position to see this. I stood up and had a better
view; but she instantly complained of dizziness, and faint spasms of
pain contracted her forehead.
I had seen nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet the glances of that woman,
as she looked at Mr. Lee over the cluster of flowers, seemed absolutely
like wafting kisses with her eyes. Jessie saw nothing, save that the
little cluster of blossoms somehow found its way into her friend's
bosom. So, in her sweet unconsciousness, she passed on, and was lost on
the other side of the tower.