MISS ROLPH IS SEVERE.
It was growing late at night. The proprietor and his clerk had
concluded the labours of the day, and were arranging with the
house-steward the bill of fare for the morrow. The male guests were
up-stairs in the parlours with the ladies, or else had secluded
themselves to play poker in private rooms, in accordance with the
rigorous house-rule against gambling. Gilbert Roe alone paced the
lower corridor, smoking cigar after cigar, which failed to soothe
him--restless and woebegone, waiting on for he knew not what, unable
to tear himself from the dreariest quarters in which he had ever
sojourned.
He was not popular with the men. He took no interest in their
amusements, having other cares at this time, and they voted him
unsociable and of no account. Since Maida's disappearance, the few
lady guests with whom he was acquainted had asked him where she was;
and on his declaring that he did not know, they had turned away with a
frightened and suspicious glance, as though they suspected him of
having made away with her. He wandered about the house like another
Cain, suspected, dreaded, and shunned, as though there were a mark of
warning and of evil on his brow; but he would not go away while Rose
remained an inmate of the house. He had an impression that there was
an influence within her doing battle on his behalf--he had detected
her furtive glances more than once wandering towards him, and averted
again ere he could meet them, and he would not go away; but the
waiting was inexpressibly dreary in the meantime.
The rumble of wheels was heard outside; a vehicle stopped before the
door. The porter, drowsing in his corner, started to his feet and ran
down to carry in baggage, and the landlord followed to inspect the
untimely arrival. It was a tall spare lady, dressed in black, who
walked straight to the desk and registered herself, "Principal Rolph,
Female College, Montpelier;" then asked to have Miss Springer's bill
made out, that she might settle it, and desired that lady's effects to
be packed up and forwarded.
Having finished her business with the clerk, she turned to follow the
bell-boy to her appointed chamber, and met Roe straight in the eye, as
he wearily paced the tiles, counting the minutes in their lagging
flight, till his hour should arrive for turning in.
"Bertie Roe! Ha! you may well look guilty and ashamed to face me. You
did not expect to see me here, I reckon."
He held out his hand to her, though his look on meeting was scarcely
one of welcome.
"We will dispense with hand-shaking, all things considered. We can
neither of us be very pleased to see the other; but you need not pass
on. I mean to speak my mind to you before I let you go."
"Speak on, Miss Rolph. It is natural you should feel strongly against
me. I will not even tell you that it was not my fault. That would seem
like casting reflections where I promised and still wish to defend."
"That sounds proper enough; but I have more against you than you
think--another instance of your misconduct. What possesses you, Bertie
Roe, to go prowling and ravening about the world like this?--blighting
the lives and devastating the affections of trusting women? Why do you
do it? What pleasure can you feel in crushing a girl's self-respect,
and making her feel shameless and a fool?"
"She does not feel one bit like a fool, Miss Rolph; and her
self-respect is not crushed at all. Far from wishing to crush her, I
am ready to humble myself, and take the blame of what I did not bring
about, and, heaven knows, had no wish should happen."
"Then you did not wish Maida Springer to run away as she did? If she
had stayed, would you have proposed to marry her? You took a curious
way to show your intentions."
"Maida Springer! What have I to do with _her?_ And what have _you_ to
do with Maida Springer?"
"She is a particular friend of mine. I have a high opinion of Maida
Springer, and I think you have behaved to her like a ruffian."
"We are old friends. I have always wished her well, and she wishes me
well, I am sure. An unkind word has never passed between us, and we
have been constantly together for--let me see--all the time I have
been staying here."
"I know that; and when a single man devotes himself in that open way
to an unmarried woman, what does it mean, if not marriage? Was it
honourable of you, Bertie Roe, to behave like that?"
"I do not consider myself a single man, Miss Rolph. I never
shall--unless--unless--which God forbid!"
"Did you tell her you did not consider yourself single?"
"How could I, Miss Rolph? Do you think a man is made of wood and
leather?"
"Then you left her to believe that you were single, Bertie Roe; and
you should be ashamed of yourself. You told her--I have it from
herself--that you were not married."
"Neither am I, Miss Rolph. The Divorce Court has annulled my
marriage."
"You have behaved dishonourably, Bertie; and with callous cruelty
besides, from what she told me, in betraying her weakness as you did,
to the other. It was not a manly act, let me tell you. I expected
better things of you."
"How could I know, or even suspect? Do you take me for so conceited an
ass that I must needs suppose every woman I converse with is in love
with me?"
"That will not do, Bertie. You are not such a stripling as not to know
that girls expect to marry, that society forbids them to make the
advance, and that if a man pays them undivided and conspicuous
attention, they are entitled to believe that he means something."
"I never thought of that, Miss Rolph. If you will believe me, there is
but one woman in the world I can ever feel towards in that way."
"And a pretty way you took to show your love!--deserted her--judgment
by default--'cruelty and desertion'!"
"What could I do? She would not listen to reason. I could not let her
name be dragged through the law reports in company with those of all
the worst people in the State. No; you must acknowledge, Miss Rolph,
that I showed forbearance and consideration there, at least. What
would the charming little tempers we both remember have looked like,
after being carded out and hackled by a pair of foul-mouthed lawyers?
They would have made her a laughing-stock to the whole country. I know
I was right in letting judgment go by default, though it went sorely
against my grain to do it."
"And now you see the consequence. She is engaged to marry another
man."
"But you will not let her, Miss Rolph? You will insist on her giving
me another chance. I am confident she will never be fond of any one
else as she was fond of me, and still is in her heart, if she would
listen to its promptings."
"That you may bicker together incessantly, and quarrel anew?--like a
pair of spoilt children, to be a scandal to decent people?"
"Ah! that is over, you may rely, Miss Rolph. I venture to assert that
we have both suffered too deeply in our separation ever to let the
bond, if it should be renewed, fret us again. Such patience as we
shall have with one another, will be a sight to see. You will help us
to make it up, Miss Rolph? Your advice goes a long way with her."
"I fear not. I have tried ere now, and had my interference declined
with thanks. I cannot attempt to make it up between you and her. In
fact I had resolved to wash my hands of her altogether; but for other
reasons, this new engagement of hers must be broken off, though I
shall not approach _her_ on the subject--in the first instance, at
least. I shall go to the gentleman."
"Only break it off, dear Miss Rolph, and you have my lifelong
gratitude--and hers too, though it seems a bold assertion; but I have
seen signs of relenting, and I believe it is pride, and the fear of
being laughed at, which chiefly keep up the estrangement."
"We shall see, Bertie; but you do not deserve it," said Miss Rolph,
attempting to keep up the rigour of her first words, though the
friendliness of her nod and smile at parting belied the pretence.