JESSIE GETS TIRED OF HER GUEST.
I kept my chamber that day, striving to make up my mind about what
course was best for me to pursue. My life at Mr. Lee's had become so
harassing, that it was absolutely burdensome. I did not know friends
from enemies in that house, for every being in it seemed changed. I sat
down alone and wept in bitter grief. Should I go away and leave the
ill-contested field to that woman, who was surely working out some great
evil to the whole family? I was not dependent. Considerable property was
vested in my favor, but it was in Mr. Lee's hands; and so generously had
he provided for every possible want, that even the income remained
untouched.
I had ability, and could have earned my bread anywhere, either as a
governess or a teacher, had that been necessary. Thus, personal
considerations could not have bowed down my spirits to the state of
depression that fell upon me. Something deeper lay at my heart. Was it
love for Jessie? was it fear that the poor girl would be left without
defence, to the machinations of that cruel woman? I cannot tell. If
other and more selfish feelings existed in my bosom, I did not know it.
Indeed, so absorbed were all my faculties in the difficulties that
thickened around us, that I had no time for self-examination. Dear, dear
Jessie! how could I help her? That was the burden of my thoughts.
The thorough drenching which I had received made me hoarse and really
ill. In my anxiety, I had neglected to change my clothes; but the cold
shudders that crept over me aroused my attention to the danger, and,
changing my damp garments, I lay down, striving to get warm.
I have a vague recollection that the sun broke out, and came flashing
through the leaves into my chamber. Then I heard voices in the garden
beneath, which chilled me worse than the cold.
Mr. Lee and Mrs. Dennison were conversing together on the terrace, where
camp-stools and garden-chairs were always standing. I could have heard
everything; the temptation was great, but I put it away, burying my head
in my pillow, and drowning their voices with my sobs.
Toward night Jessie came to my room. She was sad and disheartened; Mr.
Lee had not spoken to her since our return; and even her mother was
vexed that she should have exposed herself to the storm.
I inquired if Mr. Lawrence was at the house when her father returned.
Jessie thought not, but could not say positively; only he seldom was
there, except in her father's absence.
She said this abruptly, and turned the conversation; the very name of
Lawrence seemed to distress her.
"Aunt Matty," she said, after a dreary silence, "will this widow never
leave our house? Shall we remain in this state till it brings ruin on us
all? Mother seems fading away, and no one appears to care. You look
years older; and as for me--"
"Well, Jessie?"
"No matter about me; but something must be done. So long as it was
myself only, I made an effort to bear it; but we are all changed, all
unhappy--dear, sweet mamma, and even Lottie. There is poison in the very
atmosphere, I think."
"Let us have patience, Jessie; this cannot last much longer; but while
Mrs. Dennison remains here, do not forget that she is your mother's
guest."
"But how long--how long, I say, will this last? My father is getting
more distant and estranged every hour. I feel like an alien under his
roof--a stranger to my very self."
She was greatly excited, and wrung her hands with passionate vehemence.
The proud reticence of her character was all swept away; she fell upon
her knees by the bed on which I lay, and sobbed aloud. I am sure this
would not have happened with any one else; but I had become almost a
second self to the dear girl, and she was not ashamed to give way to her
grief in my presence.
While she was on her knees, Lottie opened my chamber-door and looked
in. Seeing Miss Jessie, she drew back, placed a finger on her lips, and
performed a series of pantomime that would have been exceedingly
ludicrous but for the anxiety that beset me. As it was, I saw that she
had something to communicate, but was afraid to ask her in while Jessie
was so disturbed.
She saw this, and darting a finger backward over her shoulder and
forward at me, as if it had been a weapon, retreated, making up faces
that grew more ludicrous with every step.
Jessie had seen nothing of this. She arose, after a little, and went
out, sighing heavily.