CHAPTER II.

SHE DEMANDS AN EXPLANATION.

It all happened so naturally, with such an evident desire for her

happiness and comfort that each time Adelina felt the inability to

frustrate the plans of Harold and Mary. How her friends could feel that

her pleasure was so much involved was more than she could determine.

"Why should I, who am always well, need change, when you two never go

away?" Adelina asked, then added, without leaving time for an answer,

"it is not quiet for me now."

"It is strange how lively one curate can make a place. He is really the

only addition to the place that I can think of," rejoined Mr. Tracy,

half satirically. It will be readily seen that he had the man's

universal love of teasing. Though the remark was made in fun, the girl

betrayed confusion, at which Harold wondered. Could it be possible that

she had in so short a time begun to take an interest in this stranger,

or was there some latent thought of that other, whose love for her had

ended so disastrously for himself? Aloud, Harold said, "There's no

accounting for the love affairs of a young girl," which sententious

remark really expressed his inmost thoughts. Miss Fiske had regained her

equanimity ere long, and showed it by her readiness to indulge in

repartee.

"Harold," she said, "you get worse every year."

"In what way am I deteriorating? Ah, 'tis looks you doubtless mean," he

ruminatingly replied. "Not only every year, but every day I see my

natural head-gear vanishing." This was said as though he was sorely

wounded, with the pretense of ruefully feeling with caution the head

which proclaimed to all that the extreme paucity of hair was no

exaggeration on his part.

"That does not indicate a falling away of your lingual powers, however,"

saucily replied Adelina.

"Fie, every one knows my scarcity of words."

"Oh, yes, doubtless; when seen as I chanced to view you an hour ago. You

were quietly sleeping over a musty psychology. Yes, I admit you were

quiet then. Were you illustrating the chapter on sleep?"

"Mary, Mary, can you stand by and hear me thus maligned?"

"Mary knows better than to take up for you. Already you presume too much

on your past right of guardianship. Even a few moments ago you were

trying to dispose of me by sending me to the farthest corners of the

earth." As "the farthest corners of the earth" meant only a score of

miles, the good-natured controversy ended in laughter. A cloud had come

over the face of Miss Tracy at the last words of Adelina. The latter, on

reviewing her words, could only attribute it to the mention of her

departure. If the truth were known, Miss Tracy had been reminded of

something which had taken place prior to the above conversation. Adelina

knew nothing of this, except in so far as it related to the effect as

displayed on her friend's countenance when she had surprised her by her

sudden entrance to the room. Mary had evidently expected a quiet

retreat, and so was unprepared to greet Adelina in an impassive manner.

Adelina had felt hurt that she was not instantly taken into Mary's

confidence. It was so seldom that Mary showed any disposition towards

concealment with her. Adelina's thoughts were, however, interrupted as

far as this was concerned; for Harold and Mary were again discussing the

contemplated trip, and she did not wish to appear ungrateful to them for

planning what she inwardly objected to most decidedly. The little frown

that followed augured ill for the success of their project,

nevertheless. There was no need, she said, of her going away every May

and June. The mere fact that this took place at stated times each year

was monotonous, to say the least. If a change was necessary, she felt

that a change of time alone would be effectual in procuring good

results. It would break the monotony, if nothing more. This looked like

sheer obstinacy.

"See what humoring her has done," said Mr. Tracy, with a smile, that did

not conceal the underlying gravity. The gravity Adelina thought was only

the result of her alleged objection to the carrying out of his purposes.

Though she felt half reluctant to persevere in her own interests, she

said to herself that she would not be treated like a baby, and disposed

of in this summary manner. Aloud she said, "If you wish to dispose of

me, say so; it certainly looks as though you wished to get rid of me."

Then, ashamed of her petulant utterance, she hastened to add, "It does

seem that I might be permitted to know what concerns myself. What takes

place in my absence is no concern of mine, but to know why that absence

is necessary seems a most natural desire."

The reference to the taking place of something in her absence was not

premeditated; in fact, Adelina had not considered the significance of

her words. That the others had was obvious, as was revealed by the

questioning looks exchanged between brother and sister, interpreted as

wishing to know whether or not the other deemed a disclosure to be

plausible. Adelina looked from one to the other in amazement. Had she

prepared her words she would not have pronounced any more calculated to

produce consternation. So there was some reason for her being sent away

at a particular time; opposition would not have produced such an effect

as this. She was undecided as to her procedure. She well knew that there

is victory in the manner of accepting defeat. If she gracefully retired

she would lose all chance of whatever explanation that might be rendered

to her, though she was dubious that any would be vouchsafed. In the

event of remaining in a quiescent attitude, a revelation might be

effected. If she did the latter and found no hope of gratification

forthcoming, doubtless she would wish she had decided on the other

course. "Well," she argued, "I'll apply my knowledge; somewhere I have

read or heard that when you are undecided what to do, don't do

anything--a most convenient theory, at any rate." Having justified

herself in this conclusion, she assumed a carefully-studied air of

complete indifference, which maneuver would, she hoped, bring about best

results. When she was unoccupied and quiet, too, people generally

inquired if she was sick, which is frequently the case where an

excessive talker is concerned. The desired issue was forthcoming.

"Adelina," said Mr. Tracy, "we had no idea that you were concerned about

this affair. Had we known that you perceived any alteration in us, we

would long ago have decided that it was best to tell you all." Mr.

Tracy looked as though he scarcely knew how to proceed. When once he had

decided on the right course, however, he pursued it without deviation,

without any consideration of personal disinclinations or inconveniences

which might possibly accrue. Those who can thus felicitously form

certain decisions appertaining to their moral obligations, and having

arrived at such decisions, can unswervingly follow the proscribed mode

of conduct, should indeed be content.

"It is only natural, my child," resumed Mr. Tracy, "that you desire to

have revealed to you what so nearly concerns you." To a stranger Mr.

Tracy's manner might possibly have produced an impression of latent

irritation. The noblest natures, when endeavoring to overcome emotion

have often, unfortunately, inadequate means of expressing or manifesting

the beneficence actually belonging to them. There was no danger of a

misunderstanding here; daily intercourse with a man like this would bear

evidence of his nobility. After a slight interval devoted to

consideration as to his manner of procedure, he said, "Our wish to have

you away during May and June was for your own good."

"That I never doubted," replied Adelina, with a grateful look.

"If you remember, it was three years ago that we first proposed your

leaving us. Did you in no way associate it with something happening the

same year?"

"Dear Harold, when did anything so momentous take place?" Harold,

reflecting on his inability to prepare Adelina, added:

"It was the year poor Ralph Bamford was taken ill. Have you never

wondered where he has been since then?" As if to cover her confusion, he

quickly added:

"But of course you have; your natural kindness would lead you to

conjecture that far. His malady has never rendered him dangerous to

those about him, hence he has remained a portion of each year with us;

the rest of the time with a private family. It was through his ravings

that we learned the circumstances you know so well--better than any.

Since that time we have always had him with us the months when his

sickness is at the worst. Once he caught a glimpse of you--the effect

can readily be imagined. We have deemed it expedient to send you away to

prevent similar attacks." Mr. Tracy had spoken rapidly, as if to

eliminate the supposition that his hearer must be equally garrulous.

Even though the young girl's feelings had not been involved in

sentimentalities, such reminiscences would be painful to any endowed

with the capacity of sympathizing. She was really more indifferent

regarding her own situation than she was at the knowledge of pain

inevitably inflicted on another by herself. The majority of girls would

doubtless have preferred to evince no interest in the young man she had

formerly subjugated. Far from her was the intention of affecting the

anticipated lack of interest in his welfare. Even Harold and Mary would

have thought the desire to avert comment justifiable; however, Adelina

took the opposing course by continuing to interrogate them.

"Is he at all improved of late? Poor boy. I shall always feel that I am

to blame."

"Nonsense, my dear," returned Harold. "Then nothing but the event of

Ralph's recovery will restore your natural buoyancy?" Mary gave an

admonitory look, in order to curb this levity, and also lest the

reference to a supposititious recovery might raise hopes only to be

disappointed. Mr. Tracy had spoken as if only an ordinary sickness had

been at issue, as though there was no aberration of the mental

functions.

"Harold, is there anything to warrant us in thinking he will ever be

well again?" Adelina's question was not put as calmly as she deceived

herself into believing. Harold regretted his impulsive speech, and would

feign have recalled it. He cast a beseeching look at his sister to aid

in extricating him from the difficulties attending his folly.

"Adelina," he said, after giving to his sister a most reproachful look

for not entering the breach, "there can as yet be no certainty of

Ralph's recovery. We often hope where there is nothing to warrant us in

so hoping."

"You do not expect me to leave, now that I know that he is to be here so

soon?" the rising inflexion alone conveying the idea of interrogation.

That an answer was expected, however, was made manifest by the girl's

undisguised eagerness to learn the purport of the anticipated reply.

Mary was the first to respond.

"You are no longer a child, dear, and so must judge for yourself. Would

you prefer remaining?"

"I would," replied Adelina, then feeling how laconic was the answer,

added, "I would because there can be no detriment to him. I shall be so

careful not to agitate him." This last was said almost pleadingly.

"And not to let him see you," cautioned Harold.

"Would he recognize me now?"

"Yes, doubtless, the mind frequently at such times reverts to the past,

and appears momentarily to resume its former activity by similar

reminiscences."

"Then it would be much better if he did not know me," said Adelina, with

a praiseworthy forgetfulness of self, for it was most obvious that time

had not proved efficacious in diminishing what had once been friendship,

but which now had developed into a feeling not so readily explained, a

feeling which had not matured to the ripeness of love. The boundary line

was there, yet so fine as scarce to be detected. Even that may prove to

be the salvation of many a person's happiness, a barrier, seemingly of

little import, yet serving well those reflectively inclined. To the

impulsive, easily led by pity or personal feelings, it would be of less

moment, save in prolonging the interval of decision--which fact alone

might chance to prove invaluable. Adelina would assuredly have been

placed under the former category, though sympathy did frequently prompt

the desire of effecting what had only the semblance of working the

earliest good. It was not long, however, that indecision troubled her.

Added to her desire of performing some good office for Ralph, there was

in this case a wish to gratify herself. The former cause would have been

sufficient to make Adelina form her opinion about remaining. The ability

of doing good, or even the attempt to do so, without ulterior

motives--unless the knowledge of well-performed duty be called a

motive--was enough to secure Adelina's partisanship in any undertaking

of mercy.

"So I am to stay," cried she, after the discussion had ended to her

satisfaction.

"You generally do manage to have your way," smilingly replied Mary.

"There; that is what I have been contending for the past hour," put in

Mr. Tracy.

"Oh, indeed. I thought the argument began by discussing your silence,"

returned Adelina.

"Do any of you know that it is time for tea?" As this seemed remote from

the subject in hand, his young friend exclaimed:

"That is right, change the subject. Here is one of the many you

addressed who knows how late it is." She was half-way up the stairs

before the others appeared in the hall. Leaning over the banister, she

called back, laughingly:

"Talking does make one hungry, Harold; no wonder you mentioned tea. How

you have talked."

A Singular Metamorphosis · 第 2 / 7 章