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[Illustration: The stranger raised his hat and said: "Permit me to ask
your name?" "Salome Owen. And yours, sir, is--" "Ulpian Gray." Page
10.--_Vashti._]
VASHTI
_or_ UNTIL DEATH US DO PART
By AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON
(Augusta J. Evans)
Author of "Beulah," "Macaria," "Infelice," "St. Elmo," "Inez," etc.,
etc.,
"There is nothing a man knows, in grief or in sin half so bitter as to
think, what I might have been."
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1869, by GEORGE W.
CARLETON, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United
States for the Southern District of New York.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1897, by MRS.
AUGUSTA J. EVANS WILSON, In the office of the Librarian of Congress at
Washington, D.C.
_Vashti._
TO THE HONORED MEMORY OF MY
_Beloved Father_,
WHOSE DEATH HAS RETARDED THE COMPLETION OF A WORK WHICH, IN THE
BEGINNING, WAS BLESSED WITH HIS APPROVAL,
I REVERENTLY DEDICATE THIS BOOK.
PREFACE.
"Every man has his own style, as he has his own nose; and it is
neither polite nor Christian to rally an honest man about his
nose, however singular it may be. How can I help it that my style
is not different? That there is no affectation in it, I am very
certain."
_Lessing._
"Yea, I take myself to witness,
That I have loved no darkness,
Sophisticated no truth,
Nursed no delusion,
Allowed no fear."
_Matthew Arnold._
UNTIL DEATH US DO PART.
CHAPTER I.
"I can hear the sullen, savage roar of the breakers, if I do not see
them, and my pretty painted bark--expectation--is bearing down
helplessly upon them. Perhaps the unwelcome will not come to-day. What
then? I presume I should not care; and yet, I am curious to see
him,--anxious to know what sort of person will henceforth rule the
house, and go in and out here as master. Of course the pleasant,
peaceful days are at an end, for men always make din and strife in a
household,--at least my father did, and he is the only one I know much
about. But, after all, why borrow trouble?--the interloper may never
come."
The girl stood on tip-toe, shading her eyes with one hand, and peering
eagerly down the winding road which stretched at right angles to the
avenue, and over the hills, on towards the neighboring town. No moving
speck was visible; and, with a sigh of relief, she sank back on the
grassy mound and resumed the perusal of her book. Above and around her
spread the wide branches of an aged apple-tree, feathered thickly with
pearly petals, which the wind tossed hither and thither and drifted
over the bermuda, as restless tides strew pink-chambered shells on
sloping strands; and down through the flowery limbs streamed the
waning March sun, throwing grotesque shadows on the sward and golden
ripples over the face and figure of the young lounger. A few yards
distant a row of whitewashed bee-hives extended along the western side
of the garden-wall, where perched a peacock whose rainbow hues were
burnished by the slanting rays that smote like flame the narrow pane
of glass which constituted a window in each hive and permitted
investigation of the tireless workers within. The afternoon was almost
spent; the air, losing its balmy noon breath, grew chill with the
approach of dew, and the figure under the apple-tree shivered
slightly, and, closing her book, drew her scarlet shawl around her
shoulders and leaned her dimpled chin on her knee.
Sixteen years had ripened and rounded the girlish form, and given to
her countenance that indefinable charm which marks the timid hovering
between careless, frolicsome youth, and calmly conscious womanhood;
while perfect health rouged the polished cheeks and vermillioned the
thin lips, whose outlines sharply indexed more of decision than
amiability of character.
There were hints of brown in the heavy mass of waveless dusky hair,
that was elaborately braided and coiled around the well turned
head, and certain amber rays suggestive of topaz and gold flashed
out now and then in the dark-hazel iris of the large eyes, lending
them an eldritch and baleful glow. Fresh as the overhanging
apple-blooms, but immobile as if carved from pearl,--perhaps it
was just such a face as hers that fronted Jason, amid the clustering
boughs of Colchian rhododendrons, when first he sought old AEetes'
prescient daughter,--the maiden face of magical Medea, innocent as
yet of murder, sacrilege, fratricide, and plunder,--eloquent of
all possibilities of purity and peace, but vaguely adumbrating all
conceivable disquietude and guilt.
The hushed expectancy of the fair young countenance had given place to
a dreamy languor, and the dark lashes drooped heavily, when a long
shadow fell upon the grass, and simultaneously the peacock sounded its
shrill alarm. Rising quickly the girl found herself face to face with
one upon whose features she had never looked before, and for a moment
each eyed the other searchingly. The stranger raised his hat, and
inclining his head slightly, said,--
"Permit me to ask your name?"
"Salome Owen. And yours, sir, is--"
"Ulpian Grey."
For a few seconds neither spoke; but the man smiled, and the girl bit
her under-lip and frowned.
"Are you the miller's daughter?"
"I am the miller's daughter; and you are the master of Grassmere."
"It seems that I come home like Rip Van Winkle, or Ulysses, unknown,
unwelcomed,--unlike the latter,--even by a dog."
"Where is your sister?"
"Not having seen her for five years, I am unable to answer."
"She went to town two hours ago, to meet you."
"Then, after all, I am expected; but pray by what route--balloon or
telegraph?"
"Miss Jane went to the railroad depot, but thought it possible you
might not arrive to-day, and said she would attend a meeting at the
church, if you failed to come. I presume she missed you in the crowd.
Sir, will you walk into the house?"
Perhaps he did not hear the question, and certainly he did not heed
it, amid the clamorous recollections that rushed upon him as he gazed
earnestly over the lawn, down the avenue, and up at the ivy-mantled
front of the old brick homestead. Thinking it might impress him as
ludicrous or officious that she should invite him to enter and take
possession of his own establishment, Salome reddened and compressed
her lips. Apparently forgetful of her presence, he stood with his hat
in his hand, noting the changes that time had wrought: the growth of
venerable trees and favorite shrubs, the crumbling of fences, the
gathering moss on the sun-dial, and the lichen stains upon two marble
vases that held scarlet verbena on either side of the broad stone
steps.
His close-fitting travelling suit of gray showed the muscular,
well-developed form of a man of medium size, whose very erect carriage
enhanced his height and invested him with a commanding air; while the
unusual breadth of his chest and shoulders seemed to indicate that
life had called him to athletic out-door pursuits, rather than the dun
and dusty atmosphere of a sedentary, cloistered career.
There are subtle countenances that baffle the dainty stipple and line
tracery of time, refusing to become mere tablets, mere fleshy
intaglios of the past, whereon every curious stranger may spell out
the bygone, and, counting their footprints, cast up the number of
engraving years. Thus it happened that if Salome had not known from
the family Bible that this man was almost thirty-five, her eager
scrutiny of his features would have discovered little concerning his
age, and still less concerning his character. Exposure to the winds
and heat of tropic regions had darkened and sallowed the complexion,
which his clear deep blue eyes and light brown hair declared was
originally of Saxon fairness; in proof whereof, when he drew off one
glove and lifted his hand it seemed as if the marble fingers of one
statue were laid against the bronze cheek of another.
Looking intently at this grave yet benignant countenance, full of
serenity, because calmly conscious of its power, the girl set her
teeth and ground her heel into the velvet turf, for _frangas non
flectes_ was written on his smooth, broad brow, and she felt fiercely
rebellious as some fiery, free creature of the Kamse, when first
confronted with the bit and trappings of him who will henceforth
bridle and tame the desert-bred.
Waking from his brief reverie, the stranger turned and extended his
hand, saying, in tones as low and sweet as a woman's,--
"Will you not welcome a wanderer back to his home?"
She gave him the tips of her fingers, but the "Imp of the Perverse"
dictated her answer,--
"As you saw fit to compare yourself, a few moments since, to certain
celebrated absentees, I am constrained to tell you that I happen to be
neither Penelope nor Gretchen, nor yet the illustrious dog referred
to."
He smiled good-humoredly, and replied,--
"I am not very sure that there is not a spice of Dame Van Winkle
somewhere in your nature. True, we are strangers, but I believe you
are my sister's adopted child, and I hope you are glad to see her
brother at home once more. Jane is a dear kind link, who should make
us at least good friends; for, if you are attached to her you will in
time learn to like me."
"I doubt it,--seeing that you resemble Miss Jane about as nearly as I
do the Grand Lama of Larissa, or the idol Bhadrinath. But, sir,
although it is not my office to welcome you, I presume you have not
forgotten the front door, and once more I ask, Will you walk in and
make yourself at home in your own house?"
As she led the way to the steps, the arched gate at the end of the
avenue swung open, a carriage entered, and Salome retreated to her own
room, leaving unwitnessed the happy meeting between an aged, infirm
sister, and long-absent brother.
Locking the door to secure herself from intrusion, she drew a low
rocking-chair to the hearth, where smouldered the embers of a dying
fire, and dropping her face in her palms, stared abstractedly at the
ashes. As she swayed slowly to and fro, her lips parted and closed,
her brows bent from their customary curves of beauty, and half
inaudibly she muttered,--
"The sceptre is departing from Judah. My rule is well nigh ended; the
interregnum has been brief, and the old dynasty reigns once more.
Just what I dreaded from the hour I heard he was coming home. I
shall be reduced to a mere cipher, and made to realize my utter
dependence,--and the iron will soon enter my soul. We paupers are
adepts in the art of reading the countenance, and I have looked at
this Ulpian Grey long enough to know that I might as well bombard
Gibraltar with boiled peas as hope to conquer one of his whims or
alter one of his purposes. There will be bitterness and strife between
us. I shall wish him in his grave a thousand times before it closes
over him,--and he, unless he is too good, will hate me cordially. I
cannot and will not give up all my hopes and expectations, without a
long, fierce struggle."
Salome Owen was the eldest of five children, who, by the death of both
parents, had been thrown penniless upon the world, and found a
temporary asylum in the county poor-house. Her mother she remembered
merely as a feeble, fractious invalid; and her father, who had long
been employed as superintendent of large mills belonging to Miss Jane
Grey, had, after years of reckless intemperance, ended his wretched
career in a fit of mania a potu. His death occurred at a season when
Miss Grey was confined to her bed by an attack of rheumatism, which
rendered her a cripple for the remainder of her days; but the first
hours of her convalescence were spent in devising plans for the
education and maintenance of his helpless orphans. In the dusty,
cheerless yard of the poor-house she had found the little group
huddled under a mulberry tree one hot July noon; and, sending the two
younger children to the orphan asylum in a neighboring town, she had
apprenticed one boy to a worthy carpenter, another to an eminent
horticulturist in a distant State; and Salome, the handsomest and
brightest of the flock, she carried to her own home as an adopted
child. Here, for four years, the girl had lived in peace and luxurious
ease, surrounded by all the elegances and refining associations which
though not inherent in are at the command of wealth; and so rapidly
and gracefully had she fitted herself into the new social niche, that
the dark and stormy morning of her life had become only a dim and
hideous recollection, that rarely lifted its hated visage above the
smooth and shining surface of the happy present.
Fortuitous circumstances constitute the moulds that shape the majority
of human lives, and the hasty impress of an accident is too often
regarded as the relentless decree of all-ordaining fate; while to the
philosophic anthropologist it might furnish matter for curious
speculation whether, if Attila and Alaric had chanced to find
themselves the pampered sons of some merchant prince,--some Rothschild
or Peabody of the fifth century,--their campaigns had not been purely
fiscal and bloodless, limited to the leaves of a ledger, while the
names of Goth and Hun had never crystallized into synonyms of havoc
and ruin; or had Timour been trained to cabbage-raising and
vine-dressing, whether he would not have lived in history as the great
horticulturist of Kesth, or the Diocletian of Samarcand, rather than
the Tartar tyrant and conqueror of the East? How many possible Howards
have swung at Tyburn? How many canonized and haloed heads have barely
escaped the doom of Brinvilliers, and the tender mercies of Carnifex?
Analogous to that wonderful Gulf Stream, once a myth and still a
mystery, the strange current of human existence, four score and
ten years long, bears each and all of us with a strong, steady sweep
away from the tropic lands of sunny childhood, enamelled with verdure
and gaudy with bloom, through the temperate regions of manhood and
womanhood, fruitful and harvest-hued, on to the frigid, lonely shores
of dreary old age, snow-crowned and ice-veined; and individual
destinies seem to resemble the tangled drift on those broad
bounding gulf-billows, driven hither and thither, strewn on barren
beaches, scattered over bleaching coral crags, stranded upon blue
bergs,--precious germs from all climes and classes; some to be
scorched under equatorial heats; some to perish by polar perils; a
few to take root and flourish and triumph, building imperishable
land-marks; and many to stagnate in the long, inglorious rest of a
Sargasso Sea.
For all helpless human waifs in this surging ocean of time, there is
comfort in the knowledge that the fiercest storms toss their drift
highest; and one of these apparently savage waves of adversity had
swept Salome Owen safely to an isle of palms and peace, where, under
the fostering rays of prosperity, the selfish and sordid elements of
her character found rapid development.
In affectionate natures, family ties serve as cords to strangle
selfishness; for, in large domestic circles, each member contributes a
moiety to swell the good of the whole--silently endures some trial,
makes some sacrifice, shares some sympathy and sunshine, hoards some
grief and gloom, and had Salome remained with her brothers and
sisters, their continual claims on her time and attention would have
healthfully diverted thoughts that had long centred solely in self.
Finding that fortune had temporarily sheathed in velvet the goad of
necessity, the girl's aspirations soared no higher than the
maintenance of her present easy and luxurious position, as a petted
dependent on the affection and bounty of a weak but generous and
lonely old lady. Having no other object near, upon which to lavish the
love and caresses that were stored in her heart, Miss Jane had turned
fondly to Salome, and so earnestly endeavored to brighten her life,
that the latter felt assured she was selected as the heiress of that
house and estate where she had dwelt so happily; and thus sanguine
concerning her future prospects, the strong will of the girl
completely dominated the feebler and failing one of her benefactress,
through whose fingers the reins of government slipped so gradually,
that she was unconscious of her virtual abdication.
From this pleasant dream of a handsome heritage and life-long plenty,
Salome had been rudely aroused by the unwelcome tidings that a young
half-brother of Miss Jane was coming to reside under her roof; and
prophetic fear whispered that the stranger would contest and divide
her dominion. A surgeon in the United States navy, he had been absent
for five years in distant seas, and only resigned his commission in
consequence of letters which informed him of the feeble condition of
his only surviving relative. Those who have eaten the bread of charity
learn to interpret countenances with an unerring facility that
eclipses the vaunted skill of Lavater, and the girl's brief inspection
of the face which would henceforth confront her daily, yielded little
to dispel her gloomy forebodings. The sound of the tea-bell terminated
her reverie, and rising, she walked slowly to the dining-room,
throwing her head as erect as possible, and compressing her mouth like
some gladiator summoned to the fatal arena of the Coliseum.
The dining-room was large and airy, with lofty wide windows, and
neatly papered walls, where in numerous old-fashioned and quaintly
carved frames hung the ancestral portraits of the family. Although one
window was open, and the mild air laden with the perfumed breath of
spring, a bright wood fire flashed on the hearth, near which Miss Jane
sat in her large, cushioned rocking-chair, resting her swollen
slippered feet on a velvet stool, while her silver-mounted crutches
leaned against the arm of her chair. An ugly and very diminutive brown
terrier snarled and frisked on the rug, tormenting a staid and aged
black cat, who occasionally arched her back and showed her teeth; and
Dr. Grey stood leaning over his sister's chair, smoothing the soft
grizzled locks that clustered under the rich lace border of her cap.
He was talking of other days,--those of his boyhood, when, kneeling by
that hearth, she had pasted his kites, found strings for his tops,
made bags for his marbles, or bound up his bleeding hands, bruised in
boyish sports; and, while he read from the fresher page of his memory
the blessed juvenile annals long since effaced from hers, a happy
smile lighted her withered face, and she put up one thin hand to pat
the brown and bearded cheek which nearly touched her head. To the
pretty young thing who had paused on the threshold, watching what
passed, it seemed a peaceful picture, cosy and complete, needing no
adjuncts, defying intruders; but Miss Jane caught a glimpse of the
shrinking figure, and beckoned her to the fire-place.
"Salome, come shake hands with my sailor-boy, and tell him how glad we
are to have his sunburnt face once more among us. Ulpian, this is my
dear child Salome, who makes noise and sunshine enough in an otherwise
dark and silent dreary house. Why, children, don't stand bowing at
each other, like foreign ministers at court! Ulpian, you are to be a
brother to that child; so go and kiss her like a Christian, and let us
have no more state and ceremony."
"_Sans ceremonie_ we introduced ourselves this afternoon, under the
apple-tree, and I presume Salome will accept the assurance of my
friendly intentions and fraternal regard, and decline the seal which
only long acquaintance and perfect confidence could induce her to
permit. Notwithstanding the very evident fact that she is not entirely
overwhelmed with delight at my return, I gratefully acknowledge my
indebtedness to one who has so largely contributed to my sister's
happiness, and shall avail myself of every opportunity to prove my
appreciation of her devotion."
Dr. Grey stepped forward, took Salome's hand, and touched it lightly
with his lips, while the grave dignity of his manner forbade the
thought that affectation of gallantry or idle persiflage suggested the
words or action.
Disarmed by the quiet courtesy which she felt she had not merited, the
girl's ready wit and nimbly obedient tongue for once proved
treacherous; and, conscious that the flush was deepening on cheek and
brow, she moved to the oval table in the centre of the floor, and
seated herself behind the massive silver urn.
"Ulpian, take your place yonder, at the foot, and excuse my absence
from the table this first evening of your return. I always have my
meals here, close to the fire, and Salome presides in my place. Child,
put no cream in his tea, but a bountiful share of sugar. You see, my
boy, I have not grown too old to recollect your whims."
As he obeyed her, Salome was preparing to pour out the tea; but,
catching his eye, she paused, and Dr. Grey bowed his head on his hand,
and solemnly and impressively asked a blessing, and offered up fervent
thanks for the family reunion. In the somewhat fragmentary discourse
that ensued between brother and sister the orphan took no part; and, a
half hour later, when the little party removed to the library and
established themselves comfortably for the evening, Salome drew her
chair close to the lamp, and, under pretence of examining a book of
engravings, covertly studied the features and mien of the new-comer.
His quiet, low-toned conversation was of other lands and distant
nations, and, while there was an entire absence of that ostentatious
braggardism and dropsical egotism which unfortunately attacks the
majority of travellers, his descriptions of foreign scenery were so
graceful and brilliant, that despite her ungracious determination and
premeditated dislike, she became a fascinated listener; and, more than
once, found herself leaning forward to catch his words. Her own vivid
fancy travelled with him over the lakes and isles, temples and
palaces, he had visited; and, when the clock struck eleven, and a
brief silence succeeded, she started as from some delightful dream.
"Janet, shall we have prayers, or have I already kept you up too
late?"
Dr. Grey stooped and pressed his lips to his sister's wrinkled
forehead, and her voice faltered slightly, as she answered,--
"It is never too late to thank God for all his goodness, especially in
bringing my dear boy safely back to me. Salome, get the large Bible
from the cushion in the parlor."
As the orphan placed the book in Dr. Grey's hand it opened at the
record of births, where on the wide page appeared only the name of
Ulpian Grey, and from the leaves fluttered a small bow of blue
ribbon.
He picked it up, and, considering it merely a book-mark, would have
replaced it, but Miss Jane exclaimed,--
"It is the blue knot that fastens that child's collar. Give it to her.
She lost it yesterday, and has searched the house for it. How came it
in that old Bible, which I am sure has not been used for fifteen
years?"
Whatever solution of the mystery Salome might have deigned to offer,
remained unuttered, for Dr. Grey kindly obviated the necessity of a
reply by requesting her to bring him an additional candle from an
adjoining room; and the superfluous celerity with which she started on
the errand called a twinkle to his eye and a half-smothered smile to
his lips. She felt assured that he was thoroughly cognizant of the
curiosity which had prompted her researches among the family records,
and inferred that he had either no vanity to be flattered by such
trifles, or was dowered with too much generosity to evince any
gratification at the discovery of an interest she would have
vehemently disclaimed.
It was the first time she had ever bowed before the family altar, and,
notwithstanding her avowed aversion to "Puritanic ceremonials and
Pharisaical practices," she was unexpectedly awed and deeply
impressed by the solemnity with which he conducted the brief services;
while, despite her prejudice, his grave courtesy toward her, and the
subdued tenderness that marked his treatment of his sister, commanded
her involuntary respect. When she stood before the mirror in her own
room, unbraiding her heavy hair, a dissatisfied expression robbed her
features of half their loveliness, and discontent ploughed distorting
lines about the scarlet lips which muttered,--
"I wonder if, in one of his evil fits, my father sold and signed me
away to Satan? I certainly am _bon gre mal gre_ in bondage to him;
for, from my inmost heart I hate 'good, pious, sanctified souls,' such
as that marble man upstairs, who has come back to usurp my kingdom,
and lord it over this heritage. After to-day a new regime. The
potter's hands are fair and shapely, courteous and deft, but potter's
hands nevertheless. Tough kneading he shall find it, and stiffer clay
than ever yet was moulded, or my name is not Salome Owen. After all,
how much better are we than the lower beasts of prey? In the race for
riches there is but one alternative,--to devour, or be devoured;
consequently that was an immemorial and well tested rule in the
warfare that commenced when Adam and Eve found themselves shut out of
Eden. 'Each for himself,' etc., etc., etc. Since I must _ex
necessitate_ prey or be preyed upon, I shall waste no time in
deliberation."