"Oh, I know you, Margaret; you are mine!"
"We are at the hotel."
He sent the carriage back, and said that he would leave me at my aunt's
door. He wished that he could see her then. Was it magic that made her
open the door before I reached it?
"Have you come on legal business?" she asked him.
"You have divined what I come for."
"Step in, step in; it's very late. I should have been in bed but for
neuralgia. Did Mr. Uxbridge come home with you, Margaret?"
"Yes, in Mrs. Bliss's carriage; I wished to come before she was ready to
leave."
"Well, Mr. Uxbridge is old enough for your protector, certainly."
"I _am_ forty, ma'am."
"Do you want Margaret?"
"I do."
"You know exactly how much is involved in your client's suit?"
"Exactly."
"You know also that his claim is an unjust one."
"Do I?"
"I shall not be poor if I lose; if I gain, Margaret will be rich."
"'Margaret will be rich,'" he repeated, absently.
"What! have you changed your mind respecting the orphans, aunt?"
"She has, and is--nothing," she went on, not heeding my remark. "Her
father married below his station; when he died his wife fell back to her
place--for he spent his fortune--and there she and Margaret must remain,
unless Lemorne is defeated."
"Aunt, for your succinct biography of my position many thanks."
"Sixty thousand dollars," she continued. "Van Horn tells me that, as
yet, the firm of Uxbridge Brothers have only an income--no capital."
"It is true," he answered, musingly.
The clock on the mantle struck two.
"A thousand dollars for every year of my life," she said. "You and I,
Uxbridge, know the value and beauty of money.
"Yes, there is beauty in money, and"--looking at me--"beauty without
it."
"The striking of the clock," I soliloquized, "proves that this scene is
not a phantasm."
"Margaret is fatigued," he said, rising. "May I come to-morrow?"
"It is my part only," replied Aunt Eliza, "to see that she is, or is
not, Cinderella."
"If you have ever thought of me, aunt, as an individual, you must have
seen that I am not averse to ashes."
He held my hand a moment, and then kissed me with a kiss of
appropriation.
"He is in love with you," she said, after he had gone. "I think I
know him. He has found beauty ignorant of itself; he will teach you to
develop it."
The next morning Mr. Uxbridge had an interview with Aunt Eliza before he
saw me.
When we were alone I asked him how her eccentricities affected him; he
could not but consider her violent, prejudiced, warped, and whimsical.
I told him that I had been taught to accept all that she did on this
basis. Would this explain to him my silence in regard to her?
"Can you endure to live with her in Bond Street for the present, or
would you rather return to Waterbury?"
"She desires my company while she is in Newport only. I have never been
with her so long before."
"I understand her. Law is a game, in her estimation, in which cheating
can as easily be carried on as at cards."
"Her soul is in this case."
"Her soul is not too large for it. Will you ride this afternoon?"
I promised, of course. From that time till he left Newport we saw each
other every day, and though I found little opportunity to express my own
peculiar feelings, he comprehended many of my wishes, and all my
tastes. I grew fond of him hourly. Had I not reason? Never was friend so
considerate, never was lover more devoted.
When he had been gone a few days, Aunt Eliza declared that she was ready
to depart from Newport. The rose-colored days were ended! In two days we
were on the Sound, coach, horses, servants, and ourselves.
It was the 1st of September when we arrived in Bond Street. A week from
that date Samuel Uxbridge, the senior partner of Uxbridge Brothers, went
to Europe with his family, and I went to Waterbury, accompanied by Mr.
Uxbridge. He consulted mother in regard to our marriage, and appointed
it in November. In October Aunt Eliza sent for me to come back to Bond
Street and spend a week. She had some fine marking to do, she wrote.
While there I noticed a restlessness in her which I had never before
observed, and conferred with Mrs. Roll on the matter. "She do be awake
nights a deal, and that's the reason," Mrs. Roll said. Her manner was
the same in other respects. She said she would not give me any thing for
my wedding outfit, but she paid my fare from Waterbury and back.
She could not spare me to go out, she told Mr. Uxbridge, and in
consequence I saw little of him while there.
In November we were married. Aunt Eliza was not at the wedding, which
was a quiet one. Mr. Uxbridge desired me to remain in Waterbury till
spring. He would not decide about taking a house in New York till then;
by that time his brother might return, and if possible we would go to
Europe for a few months. I acquiesced in all his plans. Indeed I was not
consulted; but I was happy--happy in him, and happy in every thing.
The winter passed in waiting for him to come to Waterbury every
Saturday; and in the enjoyment of the two days he passed with me. In
March Aunt Eliza wrote me that Lemorne was beaten! Van Horn had taken up
the whole contents of his snuff-box in her house the evening before in
amazement at the turn things had taken.
That night I dreamed of the scene in the hotel at Newport. I heard Aunt
Eliza saying, "If I gain, Margaret will be rich." And I heard also the
clock strike two. As it struck I said, "_My husband is a scoundrel_,"
and woke with a start.