"Ulpian, have you had any conversation with Salome?"
"Upon what subject?"
"Have you talked with her concerning her studies?"
"Not recently. Soon after Muriel and Miss Dexter came, I mentioned to
her the fact that I should be glad to see her enter a class with
Muriel and pursue the same studies, and that such an arrangement
would be entirely agreeable to Miss Dexter; but she declined the
proposition, saying she would only trouble the latter to teach her
Italian. Do you know why she is so anxious to acquire that language?"
"No; to tell you the truth, I know less and less every day about her
actions, for the child has suddenly grown very reserved. This morning
she was walking up and down the library with her hands behind her and
her eyes looking as if they were travelling to Jericho or Jeddo, and
when I asked her why she was so unusually silent, she snapped like a
toy-torpedo, 'I am silent because this is one of my wicked days, and I
am fighting the devil; and if I open my lips I shall say something
that will give him the victory.' I held out my hand to her and begged
her to come and sit by me and tell me what troubled or tempted
her,--and what do you suppose she said?"
"Something, I am afraid, that I shall be sorry to hear you repeat."
"She laid her hand on her heart and answered, 'You are very good, Miss
Jane, but you can no more help me than the disciples could relieve
that wretch whom only Christ healed.' '_This kind goeth not out but by
prayer and fasting._' Whereupon, she snatched a book from the table
and left the room. I did not see her for several hours, and when I met
her in the hall, a few moments since, I said, 'Well, dear, which won
the victory, sin or my little girl?' She put her hands on my
shoulders, laughed bitterly, and answered, 'It was a drawn battle.
Neither has much to boast of, and we lie on our arms watching--nay,
glaring at each other. Let me be quiet a little while, and don't ask
me about it.'"
"Can you conjecture the cause of the present trouble?"
"I have a suspicion."
Miss Jane paused, sighed, and frowned.
"I should think you might persuade her to confide in you."
"Pooh! Persuade her? I would quite as soon undertake to persuade the
Andes to dance a jig as attempt to discover what she has determined
not to divulge. If you knew her as well as I do, you would appreciate
the uselessness of trying to persuade her to do anything. But you men
never see what lies right under your noses, and I believe if you lived
in the same house with that child for five years longer you would
understand her as little as you do to-day. Ulpian, shut the door, and
sit down here close to me."
Dr. Grey complied; and, laying her shrunken hand on her brother's
knee, Miss Jane said, hesitatingly,--
"My dear boy, I don't know whether I ought to tell you, and, indeed, I
do not see my way clearly; but you seem so unsuspecting that I think
it is my duty to talk to you."
"Pray come to the point, dear Janet. Your exordium is very tantalizing.
Tell me frankly what disturbs you."
"It pains me to call your attention to a fact that I know cannot fail
to produce annoyance."
He put his arm around her, and, drawing her head to his shoulder,
answered, tenderly,--
"My precious sister, I have seen for some days that you were perplexed
and anxious, but I abstained from questioning you because I felt
assured whenever you deemed it best to confide in me, you would
voluntarily unburden your heart. Now lay all your troubles upon me,
and keep back nothing. Has Salome grieved you?"
"Oh, the child does not intend to grieve me! Ulpian, can't you imagine
what makes her unhappy, and restless, and contrary?"
"She is very wayward, passionate, and obstinate, and any restraint
upon her whims is peculiarly irksome and intolerable to her; but I
believe she is really striving to correct the unfortunate defects in
her character. She evidently dislikes our guests, and this proves a
continual source of disquiet to her; for, while she endeavors to treat
them courteously, I can see that she would be excessively rude if she
dared to indulge her antipathies."
"Do you know why she dislikes Muriel so intensely?"
"No; I cannot even conjecture. Muriel is very amiable and affectionate,
and seems disposed to become very fond of Salome, if she would only
encourage her advances. Can you explain the mystery?"
"If you were not as blind as a mole, or the fish in Mammoth Cave, you
would see that Salome is insanely jealous of your affection for your
ward, and that is the cause of all the trouble."
"It is unreasonable and absurd in her to entertain such feelings; and,
moreover, she has no right to cherish any jealousy towards my ward."
"Unreasonable! Yes, quite true; but did you ever know a woman to be
very reasonable concerning the man she loves?"
Dr. Grey's quiet face flushed, and he rose instantly, looking
incredulous and embarrassed.
"Surely, my dear sister, you do not intend to insinuate, or desire me
to infer, that Salome has any--"
He paused, bit his lip, and walked to the window.
"I mean to say, in plain Anglo-Saxon, and I desire you to understand,
that Salome is no longer a child; and that she loves you, my dear boy,
better than she will ever love any other human being. These things are
very strange, indeed, and girls' whims baffle all rules and disappoint
all reasonable expectations; but, nevertheless, it does no good to
shut your eyes to facts that are as clear as daylight. It is not a
sudden freak that has seized the poor child; it has grown upon her,
almost without her understanding herself; but I discovered it the day
that you left home so unexpectedly for New York. Her distress betrayed
her real feelings; and, since then, I have watched her, and can see
how completely her thoughts centre in you."
"Oh, Janet, I hope you mistake her! I cannot believe it possible, for
I recall nothing in her conduct that justifies your supposition; and I
do not think I lack penetration. If she were really interested in me,
as you imagine, she certainly would not thrust so prominently and
constantly before me faults of character which she well knows I cannot
tolerate. Moreover, my dear sister, consider the disparity in our
years, the incompatibility of our tastes and habits, and the
improbability that a handsome young girl should cherish any feeling
stronger than esteem or friendship for a staid man of my age! No, no;
it is too incredible to be entertained, and I am sorry you ever
suggested such an annoying chimera to me. Salome is rather a singular
compound, I willingly admit, but I acquit her of the folly you seem
inclined to impute to her."
Dr. Grey walked up and down the library floor, and, as his sister
watched him, a sad smile trembled over her thin, wrinkled face.
"Ulpian, you are considerably younger than our poor father was when
he married a beautiful creature not one month older than Salome is
to-day. Will you sit in judgment on your own young mother?"
"Nay, Janet; the parallelism is not as apparent as you imagine, for my
manner toward Salome has been calculated to check and chill any
sentiment analogous to that which my father sought to win from my
mother. Pray, do not press upon me a surmise which is indescribably
painful to me."
He resumed his seat, and, thrusting his fingers through his hair,
leaned his head on his open hand.
"My dear boy, if true, why should it prove indescribably painful to
you?"
"Cannot your womanly intuitions spare me an explicit reply?"
"No; speak frankly to me."
"No man of honor--no man who has any delicacy or refinement of
feeling--can fail to be distressed and annoyed by the thought that he
has unintentionally and unconsciously aroused in a woman's heart an
interest which he cannot possibly reciprocate."
"But, if you have never considered the subject until now, how do you
know that you may not be able to return the affection?"
"Because, when I examine my own heart, I find not even the germ of a
feeling which years might possibly ripen into love."
"Will you candidly answer the question I am about to ask you?"
"Yes, I think I can safely promise that much, simply because I wish to
conceal nothing from you; and I cannot conjecture any inquiry on your
part from which I should shrink. What would you ask?"
"Is it because you are interested in some other woman, that you speak
so positively of the hopelessness of my poor Salome's case?"
"No, my sister; no woman has any claim or hold on my heart stronger
than that of mere friendship. I have never loved any one as I must
love the woman I make my wife; and since I have seen and merely
admired so many who were attractive, lovely, and lovable, I often
think that I shall probably never marry.
... 'For several virtues
I have liked several women; never any
With so full a soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owned,
And put it to a foil.'
Of course this is a matter with reference to which I shall not
dogmatize, for we are all more or less the victims of caprice; and,
like other men, I may some day set the imperious feet of fancy upon
the neck of judgment and sound reason. As yet, I have not met the
perfect character whom I could ask to bear my name; still, I may be so
fortunate as either to find my ideal, or imagine that I do; or else
become so earnestly attached to some beautiful woman, that, for her
sake, I will willingly lower my lofty standard. These are the merest
possible contingencies, and I have little inclination to discuss them;
but I wish at all times to be entirely frank with you. Salome would
never suit me as a life-long companion. She meets none of the
requirements of my intellectual nature, and her perverse disposition,
and what might almost be termed _diablerie_, repel instead of
attracting me. I pity the child, and can sympathize cordially with her
efforts to redeem herself from the luckless associations of earlier
years that wofully distorted her character; and I can truly say that I
am interested in her welfare and improvement, and have a faint
brotherly affection for her; but I thoroughly comprehend my own
feelings when I assure you, Janet, that were Salome and I left alone
in the world I could never for a moment entertain the idea of calling
such a wayward child my wife. Are you satisfied?"
"Convinced, at least, that you are not deceiving me. But, Ulpian, the
girl is growing very beautiful--don't you think so?--or, is it my love
that makes me see her through flattering lenses?"
"Her lips are too thin, and her eyes too keen and restless for perfect
beauty, which claims repose as one of its essential elements; but,
notwithstanding these flaws, she has undoubtedly one of the handsomest
faces I have ever seen, and certainly a graceful, fine figure."
"And you are such an admirer of beauty," said Miss Jane, slipping her
fingers caressingly into her brother's hand.
"Yes; I shall not deny that I yield to no one in appreciation of
lovely faces; but, if I am aware that, like some rich crimson June
rose whose calyx cradles a worm, the heart beneath the perfect form is
gnawed by some evil tendency, or shelters vindictive passion and
sinful impulses, I should certainly not select it in making up the
precious bouquet that is to shed perfume and beauty in my home, and
call my thoughts from the din and strife of the outer world to
holiness and peace."
"You have no mercy on the child."
"I ought to have no mercy on glaring faults which she should ere this
have corrected."
"But she is so young--only seventeen! Think of it!"
Dr. Grey frowned, and partially withdrew his hand from his sister's
clasp.
"Janet, you grieve me. Surely you are not pleading with me in behalf
of Salome?"
Tears trickled over Miss Jane's sallow cheeks and dripped on the
doctor's hand, as she replied,--
"Bear with me, Ulpian. The girl is very dear to me; and, loving you as
she unquestionably does, I know that you could make her a noble,
admirable woman,--for she has some fine traits, and your influence
would perfect her character. Believe me, my dear boy, you, and you
only, can remould her heart."
"Possibly,--if I loved her; for then I would be patient and forbearing
towards her faults. But I cannot even respect that handsome, fiery,
impulsive, unreasonable child, much less love her; and, if I ever
marry, my wife must be worthy to remould my own defective life and
erring nature. I am surprised, my dear sister, that you, whose sincere
affection I can not doubt, should be willing to see me link my life
with that of one so much younger, and, I grieve to say it, so far
inferior in all respects. What congenial companionship could I
promise myself? What confidence could I repose--what esteem could I
entertain--for a silly girl, who, without warrant and utterly
unsought, bestows her love (if, indeed, what you say be true) upon a
man who never even dreamed of such folly, and is old enough to be her
father?"
"I can not comprehend the logic that condemns Salome, and justifies
your own mother; for, if there be any difference in their lines of
conduct, I am too stupid to see it."
Miss Jane lifted her head from her brother's shoulder, resolutely
dried her eyes, and settled her cap.
"My mother's tombstone should shelter her from all animadversion,
especially from the lips that owe their existence to her. Do not, my
sister, disturb the mouldering ashes of the long-buried past. The
unfortunate fact you have mentioned, and which I should gladly doubt
if you would only permit me to do so, renders it necessary for me to
be perfectly candid with you, and you will, I trust, pardon what I
feel compelled to say to you. I have remarked that you watch me quite
closely whenever I am engaged in conversation with my ward or her
governess, and yesterday, when Muriel came, stood by me, and leaned
her arm on my shoulder, you frowned and looked harshly at the child.
Once for all, let me tell you that there is no more possibility of my
loving Muriel or Edith, than Salome. Of the three, I care most for
Muriel, who looks upon me as her second father, and to whom I am
deeply attached. If I caress the poor, stricken child, and allow her
to approach me familiarly, you ought to understand your brother
sufficiently well not to ascribe his conduct to any feeling which he
would blush to confess to his sister. The day before Horace died, he
said, 'Be a father to my daughter; take my place when I am gone.' If I
were at liberty to divulge some matters confided to me, I could easily
assure you that there is not a shadow of possibility that Muriel will
ever grieve and mortify me as Salome has done. Now look at me, dear
Janet, and kiss me, and trust your brother; for he will never deceive
you, and can not endure a moment's estrangement from you."
Miss Jane put up her lips for the caress, and, after a short silence,
Dr. Grey continued,--
"Tell me now what you think best under the circumstances, and I will
endeavor to cooperate with you. Does Salome know you are cognizant of
her weakness--her misfortune--"
He stammered, and again his face flushed.
"Upon my word, Ulpian, you are positively blushing! Don't worry
yourself, dear, over what can not be helped, or at least is
attributable to no fault of yours. No; you may be sure Salome would be
drawn, quartered, and broiled, before she would confess to me the
feeling which she does not suspect I have discovered. Poor thing! I
can't avoid pitying her whenever you take Muriel's hand or caress her
in any way. This morning you smoothed the hair back from her forehead
while she was stooping over her drawing, and poor Salome's eyes
flashed and looked like a leopard's. She clenched her fingers as if
she were strangling something, and an expression came over her face
that was dangerous, and made me shiver a little. Something must be
done; but I am sure I do not know what to advise."
"How futile and mocking are merely human schemes! My principal object
in bringing Muriel and Miss Dexter here, was to provide agreeable and
improving companions for your pet and to afford her the privilege of
sharing the educational advantages which Muriel enjoyed. _L'homme
propose, et Dieu dispose_, if, indeed, an occurrence so earnestly to
be deplored can be deemed providential. What are her plans relative to
Jessie?"
"If she has matured any, she keeps them shut up in her own heart. Once
she talked freely to me on all subjects, but recently she seems to
avoid acquainting me with her intentions or schemes. Of course,
Ulpian, you know I have always expected to leave her a portion of my
property."
"Certainly, dear Janet; you ought to provide comfortably for the girl
whom you have taught to rely upon your bounty. It would be cruel and
unpardonable to foster hopes that you could not fully realize."
"It was my intention to put into your hands the share I intended for
her, and to leave her also to your care, when I die; but now I know
not what is best. If she could be separated from you, she might divert
her thoughts and become interested in other things or persons; but so
long as you are in the same house I know there will be nothing but
wretchedness and disappointment for her."
After a long pause, during which Dr. Grey looked seriously pained and
perplexed, he said, sorrowfully,--
"You are right in thinking separation would be best; and I will go
away at once--"
"Go where?" exclaimed his sister, grasping his coat-sleeve.
"I will furnish the rooms over my office, and live there. It will be
more convenient for my business; but I dislike to leave you and the
dear old homestead."
"Stuff! You will churn the Atlantic, with the North Pole for a dasher!
Ulpian Grey! come weal come woe, I don't intend to give you up. Here,
right here, you will live while there is breath in my body,--unless
you wish to make me sob it out and die the sooner. Pooh! Salome's
shining eyes can not recompense me for the loss of my boy's blue ones,
and I will not hear of such nonsense as the move you propose. You
know, dear, I can't be here very long at the best, and while God
spares me I want you near me. Besides, the separation of a few miles
would not be worth a thimbleful of chaff; for, of course, Salome would
hear of or see you daily, and the change would amount to nothing but
anxiety and grief on my part. We will think the matter over, and do
nothing rashly. But try to be patient with my little girl; and, for my
sake, Ulpian, do not allow her to suspect that you dream of her
feeling towards you. It is pitiable,--it is distressing beyond
expression; and God knows, if I had thought for an instant that such a
state of things would ever have come to pass, I would have left her in
the poor-house sooner than have been instrumental in bringing such
misery upon her young life. Last night I was suffering so much with my
shoulder that I could not sleep, and I heard the child pacing her room
until after three o'clock. It was useless to question her; for, of
course, she would not confess the real cause, and I did not wish her
to know that I noticed what I could not cure. But, my dearest boy, we
are not to be blamed; so don't look so mortified and grieved. I would
not have opened your unsuspecting eyes if I had not feared that your
ignorance of the truth might increase the trouble, and I knew I could
safely appeal to my sailor-boy's honor. Now you know all, and must be
guided by your own good sense and delicacy in your future course
toward the poor, proud young thing. Be guarded, Ulpian, and don't
torment her by petting Muriel in her presence; for sometimes I am
afraid there is bad blood in her veins, that brings that wicked glow
to her eyes, and I dread that she might suddenly say or do some
desperate thing that would plunge us all in sorrow. You know she is
not a meek creature, and we must pity her weakness."
Dr. Grey had grown very pale, and the profound regret printed on his
countenance found expression also in the deepened and saddened tones
of his voice.
"Trust me, Janet! I will do all a man can to rectify the mischief, of
which, God knows, I have been an innocent and entirely unintentional
cause. Salome's course is unwomanly, and lowers her in my estimation;
but she is so young I shall hope and pray that her preference for me
is not sufficiently strong to prove more than an idle, fleeting,
girlish fancy."
He took his gloves from the table and left the room; and, for some
time after his departure, his sister sat rocking herself to and fro,
pondering all that had passed. Finally, she struck her hand decisively
upon the cushioned top of her crutch, and muttered,--
"Yes, he certainly is as nearly perfect as humanity can be; but,
after all, Ulpian Grey is only flesh and blood, and despite his
efforts to crush it, there must be some vanity hidden under his proud
humility,--for certainly he is both humble in one sense, and
inordinately proud in another; and I do not believe there lives a
man of his age who would not be flattered by the love of a fresh young
beauty like Salome. He thinks now that he is distressed and
mortified; and, of course, he is honest in what he tells me; but I
have studied human nature to very little purpose for the last fifty
years, if, before long, he does not find himself more interested in
Salome than he will be willing to confess. Her love for him will
invest her with a charm she never possessed before, for men are
vulnerable as women to the cunning advances of flattery. One thing
is as sure and clear as that two and two make four,--if he is proof
against Salome's devotion it will be attributable to the fact that he
gives his heart to some one else; and I thought his blue eyes rather
shied away from mine when he said he had yet to meet the woman he
could marry. You don't intend to deceive me, my precious boy, I
know you don't; but I should not be astounded if you had hoodwinked
yourself,--a very little. But 'sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof,' and I will wait,--and we shall see what we shall see."