OUT UPON THE RIDGE.
I could not divine why it was, but for some reason Mrs. Dennison
appeared ill at ease after her ride that morning. Mr. Lee was about the
house all day; but she rather avoided him, and disappeared altogether
from the square balcony, where he was in the habit of reading when the
shadows crept round to that side of the house.
Late in the day I went out for a walk, and, mounting the hill back of
the house, wandered along its upper ridge, where a thick growth of
hemlocks and forest-trees shut out a glorious landscape on either hand;
for this hill formed a spur of the mountains which partially separated
two broad valleys. That on the east I have already described; but the
other and broader space of country could only be commanded from one or
two prominent points on the ridge. A large rock, fringed with ferns and
mountain pinks, marked one of these spots. A footpath led to it through
the trees, and, as the rock crowned a precipitous declivity of several
hundred feet, it ended there.
I sat down upon the rock weary from my long walk, and gazed dreamily
upon the broad plain at my feet. It was in a state of beautiful
cultivation: a large county-town lay under the shelter of the near
mountains, over which a cloud of smoke floated from the numerous iron
foundries in full blast in the environs. The breaks and gossamer
floating of this cloud interested me, not the less because its source
was in the useful development of the resources of a great commonwealth.
I loved to think that with every wreath of that graceful vapor came
assurance of bread for the working-man, and profits to the capitalist;
for to me such thoughts give dignity to the beautiful. I am not one of
those who would object to having the waters of Niagara lowered half an
inch, if it would give the poor better and cheaper flour.
Well, as I was saying, the hives of industry which lay in the hazy
distance made the landscape one of peculiar interest. The signs of rich
cultivation upon the undulating grounds stretching to a range of the
Blue Ridge, so far away that the mountain peaks seemed embankments of
clouds, took a new aspect every time I saw them.
Like the busy city, every beautiful object conveyed an under-thought of
prosperity; even the distant noise of some forges under the mountain
sounded harmonious in connection with the broad scene.
As I sat looking upon this glorious picture, reflecting that my beloved
country could boast of thousands on thousands equally rich, both in
beauty and thrift, a footstep in the grass disturbed me, and, turning my
head, I saw Mrs. Dennison walking slowly along the footpath.
The woman was in deep thought, and evidently did not observe me, for I
was sitting on a slope of the rock, and a mossy fragment rose up between
us. She held a letter in her hand, which seemed to give her anything but
pleasure, for as she read, a cloud fell heavily on her forehead, and the
beautiful brows contracted. She stopped in the middle of the footpath,
and seemed to read the letter over a second time. During all this time
she was so near to me, that I could distinguish the heavy sigh with
which she folded the paper.
After this she stood a moment gazing upon the landscape at her feet. She
seemed to feel the beauties this glorious point of view presented, and
her face cleared up.
That moment I spoke to her. She gave a little start, hid the letter away
somewhere in the folds of her dress, and sat down upon the rock. That
woman, I do think, never took a position which did not at once settle
into lines of grace. Just then the scarlet folds of her shawl fell in
rich contrast with the green mosses of the rock and cool foliage of the
trees, and I could not help observing that, even for my sake, she
condescended to be artistic.
"Ah, Miss Hyde, I am glad to find you here; these woods were getting
lonesome," she said, pleasantly.
"But it is not lonesome here," I replied; "this moment I was thinking
what a cheerful idea of life the whole scene yonder presented."
"Yes," she answered, looking toward the distant city; "after all,
civilization has its fine points, even in a picture. I do not wonder you
love this spot, if it were only from its contrasts. A moment back, I was
almost chilled by the lonely murmur of the pines, and the dull sweep of
waters answering them; surely there is some river near, Miss Hyde."
"Yes, at the foot of this hill."
"Oh! true, I can see gleams of water through the gloom. How steep it
is!"
"Yes, almost a precipice," I answered. "One would not like to attempt a
descent."
"Indeed, I would rather like it. If one had a mania for suicide now, it
would be a romance. A single false step, and you could hardly hear the
plunge or a cry for help, if the actor were coward enough to give it.
The waters are very black and sullen down yonder."
I turned away from them with a shudder; this idea of death and crime
which she had advanced chilled me. The waters did, indeed, look black as
we saw them weltering on through the piny gloom far below us.
"Do you know," she said, smiling blandly upon me, "I found a pretty
bird's-nest under a tuft of fern-leaves up yonder, with four lovely
speckled eggs? My red shawl frightened the poor birds, and they made a
terrible fluttering; so, in pity to the little creatures, I came away
only half satisfied."
"Oh! you have found my nest!" I exclaimed, thanking her kindness from
the depths of my heart. "My own little birds; they have built in that
spot for three years; I dare say some of the birds hatched under those
broken leaves are singing to us now. No one ever molests them here."
"Indeed I did them no harm; only took one little peep at the eggs and
ran away; so, don't look so terrified; the birds did not seem half so
much frightened."
I smiled and dropped the subject. The truth is, I really am silly about
my birds, and always keep their hiding-places secret, if I can, even
from Jessie, who does not understand their dainty habits as I do.
Mrs. Dennison busied herself looking about on the landscape.
"Tell me," she said, "whereabouts is that delightful old mill which we
stopped at this morning? I do assure you, Miss Hyde, it is the most
picturesque bit that I ever saw out of a picture; this river must be the
stream on which it stands."
"Yes," I answered; "but the mill is not visible from here."
"We had a delightful five minutes examining it," she resumed, "that is,
my good host, Mr. Lawrence, and myself. As for our sweet Jessie and her
cavalier-lover, must I say--"
"Jessie Lee has no lovers," I answered, coldly, for there was something
in the side-glance of her almond-shaped eyes that I did not like,--a
sinister questioning that aroused all the original distrust that her
simple manner had, for a time, laid to rest.
"Indeed! What, no lover? and she so beautiful, such a peculiar style! I
thought young Bosworth was something more than a neighborly cavalier; a
fine young fellow, Miss Hyde, and a catch, isn't he?"
"I don't know exactly what you mean by a catch, madam," I replied, more
and more repulsed.
"Oh! I see; not worldly enough for boarding-school vulgarisms; but I,
who am naughty enough to remember them now and then, will explain that
there is nothing very terrible in a 'good catch.' It only means a
handsome, fashionable, and rich man, whom every marriageable young lady
is dying for and only one can get."
"Then our young neighbor will not answer to the character, for he is
neither fashionable nor more than comfortably rich; nor has he any
number of young ladies dying for him."
"Only one, perhaps?"
The same sidelong glance, the same crafty undercurrent in her
questioning.
"If you mean Jessie, Mrs. Dennison, I am very sure she has no such
feelings as you suspect, toward any one."
"Oh, I dare say not; one always likes to talk nonsense about such
things, but it amounts to nothing. Of course, people are always
expecting hosts of lovers when an heiress is in question, and Miss Lee
has the reputation of immense expectations."
"Yes," I answered, artfully, "I am afraid Jessie will be very rich,
indeed. Along that valley she will own land enough for a small
principality, if such things were recognized in this country, and many a
smoke-wreath that you see curling up from the city yonder comes from the
dwellings that will yet be hers, and so will several foundries that are
coining money for her out of iron."
Mrs. Dennison's eyes kindled. "Show me," she said, eagerly, and shading
her eyes with one hand, "where does the land lie--this principality of
which Jessie will be mistress?"
"Yonder to the left, around and far beyond that hill."
"The hill with so many grassy slopes, and crested with groves? That
hill, and the lands around it, will it surely be Jessie Lee's
inheritance?"
"Every foot of land, every smoke that curls from several blocks of
houses in the centre of the city."
"And does Mr. Lee have all this income?"
"Every cent."
Her eyes sparkled. Fresh roses bloomed out on her cheeks. She threw out
her arm, and waved it inward, as if gathering the property in one
sweeping embrace.
"Ah! what a world of enjoyment you or I could get out of all that if it
were ours!" she said, with unaccountable exultation in her voice. "No
wonder he lives like a prince."
I answered her with constraint. This enthusiasm disturbed me.
"I am not sure, madam, that either you or I would be happier for
possessing so much care as this wealth would bring; for my part, that
which I enjoy without responsibility, is enough."
Her beautiful mouth curled with a sneer, the first I ever saw on those
lips.
"Ah! it requires taste and habits of power to prepare one for these
things; some people are born with them. Some people are born for them,
and others--"
"Well?" I said, smiling with satisfaction that she had at last broken
loose from her system of crafty adulation.
"And others," she said, adroitly, "are so gentle and unselfish, that
they live in the happiness of their friends. It would be a pity to
cumber such with all the anxieties of wealth; one would as soon think of
weighing the angels down with gold."
I declare, the quickness of that woman frightened me. The sneer left her
lips in a glow of smiles before it was formed. Her eyes were bent on my
face innocent as a child's. She sat down by me, folding the scarlet
shawl lightly around her.