A NOBLE RESOLUTION.
“You will remember that you have promised that I am still to be your
friend; you will not avoid me and deny me the pleasure of your society
because of what I have told you to-night?” Ralph pleaded, as he and Star
drew near the entrance of the park, and knew that they would soon be
rejoined by his sister and Mr. Rosevelt.
Star looked up at him with a grave face.
“You shall still be my friend. I will not avoid you if you will promise
me that you will build no false hopes upon our friendship,” she said.
“How can I, when you tell me that there is no hope?” he asked, yet his
voice trembled and was full of pain.
“May I continue to visit you when you return to New York?” he resumed,
after a moment.
“Certainly, as one friend would visit another. You have made my stay
here very pleasant, and I should be very sorry not to see you
occasionally, while Grace has become almost like a sister to me.”
The young man thanked her with glistening eyes, and with a pang at his
heart, as he thought how fondly he had hoped to make the two girls
sisters, and how rudely his bright dream had been broken.
Then they passed out at the gate, where they found Mr. Rosevelt and
Grace awaiting them.
Both saw at a glance that the interview had been a sorrowful one, and
Miss Meredith was bitterly disappointed, for she had trusted that Ralph
would be able to win the bright, beautiful girl for his wife.
Mr. Rosevelt surmised the cause of Star’s rejection of his suit, and
sighed heavily, for the young man had been a favorite with him, and he
would have been glad to give her to him.
But he would never try to influence her upon matters of such a delicate
nature. She should always do exactly as she liked, and he knew that
whoever her choice might be, it would never be an unworthy one.
They parted at the door of the hotel, Ralph bidding them good-by there,
as he was to leave early in the morning, and Star knew by the way he
wrung her hand that he was bidding farewell to hope as well.
When they reached their private parlor, she went directly to Mr.
Rosevelt’s side and laid her hand upon his arm. Her face was flushed and
sad, and he saw at once that she was very unhappy.
“What is it, my starling?” he asked, taking her hand in both of his, and
speaking very tenderly.
“Uncle Jacob, I want to go home,” she said, wearily.
“Bless you, child! you shall go wherever you like,” he said, in
surprise, and regarding her anxiously.
“I want to go where you and I can be by ourselves, and where I cannot do
any mischief,” she said, with a sob of pain, and he knew beyond a doubt
that Ralph Meredith had proposed and been rejected.
“Mischief! tut, tut, little one! What has made you so unhappy? Have you
sent our young friend away in sorrow?”
Star nodded her head in reply; she could not find voice to answer him.
“He is a fine young man—he is a _worthy_ young man,” Mr. Rosevelt said,
gently.
“Oh, I _know_ it, Uncle Jacob; but—_my heart is dead_, and it can never
live again. Don’t blame me, please—_you_ know all about it, and you know
that I could not help it and be true to him and myself,” she returned,
in deep distress.
“You have done everything to make me happy,” she went on, a little more
calmly, “and I thought I was beginning to be content and to enjoy life
once more; but I cannot endure many scenes like what transpired
to-night. Let us go home, where I can go to work again, and in my duties
there forget, if possible, the misery of the past, which I have been
made to live over again to-night.”
“We will leave Newport to-morrow, if you wish,” Mr. Rosevelt said, after
a little thought; “but we will not go back to New York just yet—we will
spend two or three weeks in sightseeing first. We will go to the White
Mountains, from there to Montreal, then down the St. Lawrence and the
lake to Niagara, and then home. That will give us a change and a nice
little trip, besides a knowledge of something of the country. It is a
long time since I went over that ground, and I think I should enjoy the
journey, if the idea pleases you.”
He was not going to let her go back to New York and bury herself at
home, where she would brood over her trouble and grow pale, thin, and
hollow-eyed again; so he put it in the form of a favor to himself.
Star assented, thinking if the trip would give him pleasure she would
not say “nay.” She only longed to get away from Newport; it would be a
change, and a spirit of unrest had suddenly possessed her.
So it was arranged that they should leave the gay resort the next day
but one.
“And, Uncle Jacob,” Star pleaded, as they were about to retire for the
night, “let us not say much about it until to-morrow; let us get away as
quietly as possible.”
“Very well; we will leave the announcement of our departure as long as
we can, without appearing to _run_ away,” he answered, understanding her
motive.
The next morning Star sought Miss Meredith, and confessed, with many
tears, her rejection of her brother.
“I knew he would tell you,” she said, “but I cannot bear that you should
blame me, Grace. I have not meant to wrong your brother, and I would
give much to make him as happy and free from pain as he was before he
knew me. Do not take your friendship from me on account of it, for I
need it more than I ever did before.”
And Grace Meredith, not knowing all, kissed her tenderly, while she
thought in her heart, “Perhaps I can help to win her for Ralph even yet,
if I am patient.”
“Do not grieve,” she said, gently. “I know you have intended no wrong.
You cannot help being beautiful and attractive; you cannot help it if
people _will_ love you. I do not blame you, dear, in the least, and I am
sure I should not think of breaking our friendship, which has been so
exceedingly pleasant. Ralph did tell me something of this last night,
and of course I am sorry for him, for he is a very dear brother, and a
noble fellow, too; but these affairs of the heart, you know,” she
concluded, smiling and flushing, for she knew something about it
herself, “are entirely beyond our control.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Star said, gratefully, although the trouble did not
fade out of her azure eyes; “you have lightened my burden considerably.
It would have been more than I could bear to make an enemy of you.”
“An enemy, you dear little goose!” Grace cried. “Do you suppose I would
be so foolish as to wish to drive you to marry my brother if you could
not love him? I love you both too well for that; and now don’t let me
hear anything more about broken friendships, unless I do something to
forfeit your respect, for it would cause me great sorrow to have
anything mar our intimacy.”
Star drew a long breath of relief.
“You are very good to me,” she returned; “and now I have a little
message to you from Uncle Jacob.”
“A message from Mr. Rosevelt! Do let me have it, then, for it must be
something good,” Miss Meredith said, gayly. She longed to drive the
clouds from her friend’s face.
“We are going to leave Newport.”
“Going to leave Newport! When?”
“To-morrow.”
“If that is your message, it is anything but a welcome one,” Miss
Meredith said, looking very much disturbed.
“Oh, but it isn’t,” Star replied; “I was to tell you of our plans. We
are going from here to the White Mountains, from there to Montreal, down
the St. Lawrence River and Lake Ontario to Niagara, and then home; and
Uncle Jacob commissioned me to ask you to be our guest during the trip.
Will you go, Grace?”
Miss Meredith looked thoughtful.
It would be a sudden start, but the trip offered great attraction, to
say nothing of the pleasure she would experience in Star’s and Mr.
Rosevelt’s society.
Ralph was gone, and if these friends should go also, she would be very
lonely, notwithstanding she had many acquaintances here.
“I _want_ you, Grace; _please_ do not refuse,” Star pleaded, as she
hesitated, and she assented without further demur.
Accordingly, the next day they all left Newport, and many blank faces
and wistful eyes watched their departure, for they had formed a nucleus
around which a brilliant circle had collected, and they would be sadly
missed.
The trip occupied three weeks, and proved a most delightful one also.
Star was a first-rate traveler, Miss Meredith a most pleasant companion,
and they all regained much of their accustomed spirits before it was
over, and Mr. Rosevelt congratulated himself that he had planned most
wisely.
“I think it is charming to travel in this way,” Star said, one day while
they were at Niagara; “just a few of us who enjoy each other, stopping
when we choose, going on when we like, and having everything our own
way. I think there is nothing so pleasant as traveling.”
“How would you like to go to California and the Yosemite Valley?” Mr.
Rosevelt asked.
“I _think_ I should like it,” she answered, enthusiastically.
“Will you go this fall?”
“Oh, Uncle Jacob, aren’t you tired? Do you not need to go home and rest
after so much dissipation?” the young girl asked, but her eyes sparkled
and her cheeks flushed with anticipation.
“Do you call it dissipation to travel?” he asked, smiling at her
eagerness. “I enjoy it almost more than anything else.”
“‘_Almost_ more,’” Star repeated, quickly. “What _would_ you enjoy
more?”
“To see _you_ perfectly happy,” he replied, tenderly; “and,” he added,
“I believe that traveling does you fully as much good as anything else.
We will go home and rest a week, then we will start for the far West.
What do you say to my plan?”
Miss Meredith’s face lighted.
“Say ‘yes’ to it, by all means, Star,” she said, “and—I will go with
you, if you will have me.”
“_If_ we will have you,” Star returned, with dancing eyes. “Why, I think
it would be the very nicest thing in all the world—we three, with Mrs.
Blunt to look after us, do have such delightful, cozy times.”
“I have been wishing for just such an opportunity for a long time,”
Grace said, “and if you will take me along with you, I should esteem it
a great favor.”
“I think with Star, that it would be the best arrangement in the world;
and, Miss Meredith, we shall consider you a member of our party,” Mr.
Rosevelt said, with a bow and a smile to that young lady.
Star looked up into the old gentleman’s face.
“Uncle Jacob, how _good_ you are to me!” she said; and her red lips
trembled over the words, for she knew that he had planned all this
expressly for her sake, to keep her thoughts pleasantly employed and
from brooding over the past.
“My dear, do I not owe my life and all that I am at present enjoying to
you?” he asked, gravely. “Remember,” he added, “that when you are happy
I am happy also, and _vice versa_; whatever cloud darkens your sky is
sure to bring sorrow to me also; so let us make the most of our lives
while we have them.”
Star looked up brightly after Mr. Rosevelt’s last remark, and glancing
archly from him to Miss Meredith, said:
“Well, if so much depends upon my decision—if I hold the fate of two
such important people in my hands, I shall be obliged to say, we will go
to California and be happy. But,” she added, laughing, “I warn you both
beforehand that I shall not be easily satiated; I shall want to go
everywhere and see everything. Yes; we will go home and rest a week,
then turn our faces toward the ‘golden gate,’ and—‘westward, ho!’”