INTRUSIVE KINDNESS.
Some one knocked at the door. I went to open it, and found Cora, Mrs.
Dennison's maid, who had been brushing her mistress's riding-habit on
the back terrace, and flung it across her arm before coming up-stairs.
The girl was a pretty mulatto, with teeth that an empress might have
coveted, and eyes like diamonds; but there was something in her face
that I did not like--a way of looking at you from under her black
eyelashes that was both searching and sinister.
"Mistress told me to run up, and inquire if it wasn't time for Miss Lee
to put on her habit," she said, shooting a quick glance into the room;
"the horses are ordered round."
I felt the color burning in my face. The impertinence of this intrusion
angered me greatly.
"Miss Lee is with her mother," I said, "and cannot be disturbed; when
she is ready, I will let your mistress know. Until then the horses must
wait."
The girl gave the habit on her arm a shake, and went away, casting one
or two glances behind. What possible business could the creature have in
that part of the house? Had the mistress really sent her? It was an hour
before the time for riding, and it had not been our custom to hurry
Jessie away from her mother's room.
While I stood by the window, thinking angrily of this intrusion, another
knock called me back to the door. It was the mulatto again, with her
mistress's compliments, and, if Mrs. Lee was well enough, she would pay
her respects while the horses waited.
I went down myself at this, and meeting Mrs. Dennison on the terrace,
informed her, very curtly, I fear, that Mrs. Lee was not out of her
bedroom, having spent a restless night, and was quite incapable of
seeing strangers.
I put a little malicious emphasis on the word _strangers_, which brought
a deeper color into her cheeks; but she answered with elaborate
expressions of sympathy, inquired so minutely into the symptoms and
causes of Mrs. Lee's prostration, that I felt at a loss how to answer.
"Dear lady!" she went on, "I'm afraid these severe attacks will exhaust
the little strength she has left; they must make life a burden."
"On the contrary," I said, "there is not, I am sure, a person living who
so keenly enjoys the highest and most lofty principles of existence.
With the love of God in her heart, and domestic love all around her,
life can never be a burden."
"Indeed!" she answered, with something in her voice that approached a
sneer; "I never was sick in my life, that is, perhaps, why it seems so
terrible to me. Nothing could reconcile me, I am sure, to a life like
Mrs. Lee's. At her age, too, with disease helping time to chase away
what beauty one has left, how she must feel it!"
"You quite mistake the case, madam," I answered; "Mrs. Lee never
depended on her beauty, which, however, no one can dispute, as a means
of winning love; her sincerity, intelligence, and gentle wisdom are
enough to outlive the loveliness of a Venus."
"You are enthusiastic, Miss Hyde."
"I love Mrs. Lee, and speak as I feel."
"I am afraid," she said, in her blandest manner, "that my interest in
the dear lady has led me into obtrusiveness, or, at least, that you
think so. But she is so very superior--so perfect, in fact, that one
cannot shake off the interest she inspires. It was this feeling which
tempted me to ask for the privilege of paying my respects;--I see now
that it was inopportune; but a warm heart is always getting one into
scrapes, Miss Hyde. I shall never learn how to tame mine down. It seemed
to me that the sweet invalid yonder must feel lonely in her room, and
this was why that importunate request was made."
"Mrs. Lee is a woman who would find something of paradise in any
position. Her sitting-room, up in the tower yonder, has always been
considered the pleasantest apartment in the house."
"No doubt; it was this conviction which made me anxious to be admitted.
Still, I must think that a confinement, that only promises to be
relieved by death, must be a painful thing."
Why did the woman always return to that point? In my whole life I had
never heard the probable result of Mrs. Lee's illness alluded to so
often, as it had been hardly mentioned since Mrs. Dennison's arrival. It
shocked me, and became the more repulsive from the usual levity of her
manner. She seemed to weave the idea of my dear friend's death with
every luxury that surrounded her dwelling; to my prejudiced fancy, she
even exulted in it. I stood looking her in the face while these thoughts
troubled my mind. What my eyes may have spoken I cannot tell, but hers
fell beneath them, and, with an uneasy smile, she turned to walk away.
That moment Jessie came out to the terrace, looking a little anxious.
"Where is father?" she said; "mother is up and waiting for him."
I saw a faint smile quiver around the widow's lips, but she busied
herself with some branches of ivy that had broken loose from the
terrace-wall, and did not seem to heed us. Just then the tramp of horses
sounded from the front of the house, and Jessie exclaiming with a little
impatience, "Dear me!" walked quickly to the square balcony. I followed
her, and saw Mr. Lee standing at the foot of the steps ready to mount.
He was giving some orders to the groom, and seemed particularly anxious
about the horse which Mrs. Dennison was to ride.
Jessie's face flushed, and a look of proud surprise came across it. Mr.
Lee turned his head that way and called out,--
"Why, Jessie, where is your habit? I never found you late before."
Jessie did not answer, but passed me, descending to the terrace and down
the flight of steps. She spoke to her father, looking back anxiously.
After the first words, he started and seemed taken by surprise. Even
from the distance I could see a flood of crimson rush to his forehead.
They both ascended the steps together. Mr. Lee went to the tower, and
Jessie ran up-stairs to put on her riding-dress.
I went up to help her, but walked slowly; everything conspired to
depress me that morning. One serpent was enough to destroy the perfect
happiness of Eden. Our little paradise seemed changing after the same
fashion, and yet no one could tell why.
Jessie was buttoning her habit as I went in. She looked restless and
hurt.
"Aunt Matty," she said, "I have a great mind to give up this ride; the
thought of meeting that gentleman troubles me. Look how my hands
tremble."
Yes, the serpent was doing its work. Even our sweet, honest Jessie was
beginning to cover up her true feelings under false issues. It was
something nearer home than the dread of an unwelcome offer that made her
so nervous. For the first time since her remembrance Mr. Lee had
forgotten his wife. But for Jessie's interposition, he would have ridden
away without inquiring after her. I recollected how he had blushed when
reminded of this.
Of course, I could not speak of the true cause of this discontent, the
delicate reticence becoming to a daughter was too sacred for that; but I
said quickly,--
"Yes, yes, darling, you must go. It is your duty."
She looked at me earnestly, then dropping her eyes, went on with her
preparations.
A second time Mrs. Dennison came to her chamber. Our coldness the day
before had left no impression on the materialism of her nature.
Sparkling with cheerfulness, and brilliant with smiles, she swept in,
bending her flexible whip into a ring, with both hands, and letting it
free again with a prolonged snap.
"All ready? That's right, my Lady Jess! The day is heavenly, and our
cavaliers are coming up the road!"
"Thank heaven!" I heard Jessie whisper, as she drew on her gantlets.
If she fancied that the coming of Mr. Bosworth and his friend would
release Mr. Lee, and leave him at liberty to spend his morning with the
invalid, she was disappointed in the result, though not in the fact.
Just as the party were mounting, he appeared on the terrace, and,
descending the steps, joined them, whip in hand.
I watched all these movements keenly; why, it would have been impossible
for me to explain even to my own judgment; but shadows tormented me at
this time, and all my senses were on the alert. Mr. Lee rode by his
daughter, leaving his guest to the other gentlemen, between whom she
rode triumphantly, as Queen Elizabeth may have entered Kenilworth,
flirting royally with her handsomest subjects. Jessie and her father
seemed to be conversing quietly, as I had seen them a hundred times
riding down that road.