"There are so many signs of wickedness
Around me, that my soul is pressed with fear.
O, that the power divine would kindly aid
Me in my need, and save me from the wiles
And artful plottings of this wicked man!
For though he speaks so soft, and smiles so fair,
I've seen at times a strange look in his eye
Which doth convince me that his soul is black within."
Col. Malcome flung wide the doors of his elegant mansion to receive the
suffering family who, in the space of a few short hours, had lost their
all of earthly wealth by the subtle element of fire. The invalided Mrs.
Howard was borne on a litter to an apartment so warm and complete in its
arrangements, as to almost wear the appearance of having been fitted up
expressly to receive her in her forlorn and unsheltered condition.
Large, richly-furnished rooms, all glowing bright in their luxurious
comforts, were also in readiness for Florence and her father. The latter
was nearly overwhelmed with grief and dismay at his sudden and
irremediable loss. Col. Malcome strove by every means in his power to
assuage and lighten his sorrows.
"My house is your home as long as you choose to make it so, Major
Howard," said he one morning after the afflicted family had been several
weeks partakers of his generous hospitality.
"I cannot consent to burden you with my family any longer than while I
can find some place to which I can remove them," answered he. "And then
I must engage in some kind of business to provide for their support.
This unfortunate accident has given my wife so dreadful a shock, I fear
she will not long survive it."
A significant smile appeared for a moment on Col. Malcome's features at
these latter words, but he concealed it from the distressed man, and
replied, "It grieves me to hear you talk thus. Why should you regard
your family as burdensome guests beneath my roof, when we are soon to be
linked in the ties of relationship by the union of our children?"
"True!" returned Major Howard. "Such a union has been proposed, but----"
"But what?" asked Col. M.
"You may not look as favorably on its consummation now as formerly."
"Judge not so meanly of me, my friend!" said he, warmly. "Your
daughter's rich soul and personal charms are all the wealth I desire in
the lady who shall become the wife of my son."
Major Howard was silent.
"I do not wish to hasten this marriage," resumed the colonel, "because
you expressed a desire, several months ago, that it should be delayed
till a change occurred in your wife's situation (a strange emphasis on
the word _wife_); but were it consummated, your family could occupy
one-half of my mansion with no expense to me till Rufus should rebuild
the one you have recently lost by fire."
Major Howard's face suddenly brightened. The colonel saw he had made a
hit, and followed up his advantage so adroitly that e'er the twain
parted, the father had consented that the marriage between his daughter
and the colonel's son should take place within four weeks. He sought his
daughter and communicated the intelligence. Florence received it in
silence. She felt they were without a home in the wide world, and at the
mercy of the man under whose roof they were sheltered. A strange horror
was seizing upon her soul and bowing her spirits to the earth. There
were many looks and glances around her she could not understand; but
they seemed possessed of some dark and hidden meaning. Hannah Doliver's
glee knew no bounds. She followed Rufus from morning till night, and
appeared uneasy if he was a moment beyond her sight. The young man
returned her fondness with hatred and contempt. Edith, with her pale,
wan face and sunken eyes, looked the mere shadow of her former self.
During her long illness, her beautiful head had been shorn of its ripply
wealth of auburn curls, and, as she lay languidly on the soft cushions
of her luxuriant couch, few would have recognized in that wasted form
the once radiant Edith Malcome. She had a feverishness and uncertainty
of temper common to long-confined invalids. Florence could find little
companionship in her society; besides, she was too weak to endure the
excitement of laughter and conversation.
Rufus sought his affianced bride at every opportunity; and the only
place where she could rest secure from his interruptions was the
apartment of her mother, where he never ventured to intrude, being
possessed of a strange fear and dread of sick people. He never visited
Edith, unless compelled to do so by his father.
Florence was one day sitting in the deep recess of one of the
drawing-room windows, with the massy folds of purple damask drooped
before her, occupied in the perusal of a book of poems, when a
succession of low, murmuring sounds near by, disturbed her, and
listening a moment she heard Col. Malcome say, in a smothered tone,
"There's no fear of detection; all moves on bravely, and we shall have a
blooming young bride here in a few weeks."
Then there was a low, chuckling laugh, which Florence recognized as
Hannah Doliver's. After a while the woman spoke in a stifled voice,
"Don't you want to see _her_?" she said. "I should think you would."
There was a slight malice in her tone, which appeared to irritate him
somewhat.
"I can wait very well till the ceremony is performed," he answered at
length. "Of course, she will appear at the marriage of her daughter." A
strange emphasis on the last word.
"But come," he added directly, "we must not linger here. Some of the
family may observe us."
Thus speaking, they passed out of the apartment, relieving Florence of
the fear with which she had been shaking during their whole conversation
lest they should discover her retreat in the window.
When they were gone, she clasped her hands, and exclaimed in a low, but
fervent tone, "Will no arm save me from the power into which I have
fallen?"
For several days she sought an opportunity to speak privately with her
father, but his attention was so incessantly occupied by Col. Malcome,
that none presented.
When at last she gained his ear, he laughed her suspicions to scorn, and
bade her never come to him with such an idle tale again.
The good-natured major was infatuated by, what he termed, the munificent
magnanimity of Col. Malcome, and, moreover, had been nurtured in
luxurious tastes, and the prospect of reïnstating himself in an elegant
home by so easy a process as the marriage of his daughter, was too
desirable to be allowed to vanish lightly away.