I hurried away from the forge earlier than usual one July day, and,
finding the studio vacant, worked a full hour before Mr. Leopold
presented himself. He came in hurriedly, glanced at my picture, pointing
out a fault or two, then seated himself at his easel for an hour longer
of silent work. At the expiration of this time he rose, put away his
materials, and said, as he turned toward the door,--
"Miss Merton and Mr. Lang are to be married this afternoon, Sandy. They
wished me to ask you down to the ceremony, which is to be private. An
unexpected affair, hurried on account of business which calls Mr. Lang
to town for a great part of the winter, and so would separate them much,
if she could not go with him."
I was extremely surprised. However, Mr. Leopold was so collected that I
felt called upon to refrain all expression of astonishment.
"You need not go home to make any alteration in your dress, Sandy," he
added. "Come up to my room and help yourself to all the minor articles
you need."
It was not long before I entered the drawing-room, where I found Miss
Darry, evidently expecting me.
"Well, Sandy, this is a hurried affair. Your presence was particularly
desired; and, by the way, Alice insisted upon dispatching a messenger to
Annie Bray with an invitation to the ceremony, but her mother sends word
that she is away on some excursion. Alice will be sorry, she has taken
such a fancy to her: you must explain that she was really wanted."
"Oh, no,--Annie will be so disappointed! I can hunt her up and be back
here before Miss Merton is prepared for the occasion"; and I started for
the door, but the will stronger than my own recalled me.
"Sandy, pray reflect a moment, and you will attempt nothing of the kind.
They leave in the eight o'clock train, and will be married some time
about sunset. In the interval you could never go and return from Warren
on any other horse than Mr. Lang's, and I suppose you would not expect
your little friend to ride before you. Besides, we have been busy to-day
planning other matters, and the final decorations have not been thought
of. You are the very one to make the proper disposition of light and
shade, flowers, etc."
"Miss Darry, do call in Mr. Leopold to gather flowers and pull the
shades up or down, and let me try at least to find Annie," I answered,
impatiently.
But she only replied,--
"Mr. Leopold! why, you innocent youth, he hasn't half your artistic
capacity. I can see how you reverence him; but trust me, it is only from
the innate modesty of your nature."
"He exhausted the fanciful region in which I dwell years ago, Miss
Darry, and has gone up higher. You surely must see you undervalue his
great nature."
"I see nothing just at present, Sandy, but the need of your assistance,"
she replied.
And by various devices she busied me until the arrival of the minister
and the few intimate friends banished all further thought of Annie's
regret at not being present. Miss Merton's loveliness and Mr. Lang's
manly beauty made a picture I would gladly have studied longer than the
time required to make them man and wife. I had long ago seen the
ceremony performed by Mr. Purdo for a rustic couple; but this was a new
and more fascinating phase of it. Impressed as I was apt to be by
anything appealing to my emotions or sense of beauty, I did not care to
join at once Miss Darry and Mr. Leopold, who engaged in their customary
repartee directly after the bride retired to prepare for her journey;
but Miss Darry, slipping away from Mr. Leopold, soon joined me on the
lawn, to which I had stepped from the French window.
"What a serious expression, Sandy! One might imagine you had been making
all these solemn promises yourself. You must learn not to be so easily
affected by forms and symbols. It is a weakness of your poetic
temperament. Their love has existed just as truly all these months as
now; yet I never saw you grow serious over the contemplation of it,
until a minister consecrated it by prayer and address."
I started.
"You do not give much of a niche to Cupid in your gallery of life, Miss
Darry."
"Now that is poorer reasoning than I should have looked for even from
you, Sandy. Because I laugh at your reverence for outward expression, do
I necessarily depreciate the sentiment?"
"No," I answered, bluntly; "I was thinking how you bade me set aside
Annie Bray,--how you always slight her claims upon me."
"Ah, it has a personal application, then," she replied, thoughtfully,
but frankly as before. "It is only because I want you to make the most
of your fine powers, that I would have you choose friends who can
appreciate you."
"I know that you have been disinterested, noble," I returned,
remorsefully. "But outward success would never atone to me for the lack
of love. Perhaps it is through my very weakness that I cling so to the
only human being who really loves me."
Miss Dairy's face changed color. For the first time in her intercourse
with me, she was strongly and visibly moved.
"Sandy," she said, after a pause, in a low, broken voice, strangely at
variance with its usual ringing tone, "without this love I, as a woman,
have lived all my life, until a week ago; and then, because it was not
the love I demanded, even though I could have taken it with
inexpressible comfort into my lonely life, I rejected it. I tell you
this merely as an encouragement. If Annie Bray is all you crave, forsake
everything else for her; if not, deny yourself the gratification of
being worshipped, and wait until you also can bestow your whole heart."
She stood there, in the waning light, plucking nervously the petals from
the rose-bush, and scattering them on the grass,--her dark eye filled
with a melancholy which I had never supposed could subdue its flashing
light, or relax the outlines of the thinly cut lips,--unsatisfied,--her
womanly nature rebelling against an unusually lonely lot. It needed just
this humble acknowledgment of human need and human love to make Frank
Darry irresistible, and my impressible fancy responded to the spell.
Impelled by a passion which from its very force forbade analysis, I bent
over her. Even then, as my hand fell upon her shoulder, and her eyes,
still lulled in their dangerous trance of sadness, met mine inquiringly,
my purpose was arrested by the voices of Nature around me, as if Annie
Bray, herself allied to them, were reminding me of claims which had once
held such power over me. I recall now the oriole whose nest swung like
a pendulum from the branch above, marking the passing of the summer day,
and whose clear note struck more sweetly than the cuckoo clock the
evening hour. I noticed a humming-bird nestled in its silver-lined
apartment, its long bill looking as though even the honeyed sweetness of
the flowers must be rendered more delicate before it could help to
nourish the exuberant and palpitating life of its little body. Then I
looked at the begonias and fuchsias in Miss Darry's hair, spilling their
precious juices on the stem, as they hurried to reveal the glowing
secret of their blossom; and while I yielded to the fascination of the
scene, the woman beside me was absorbed into its wonderful witchery,
Annie Bray and Frank Darry--timid, loving child and brilliantly
developed woman--both united to win from me the passion of my life. Had
I waited, the affinity of moods which drew us together would probably
never have been reproduced; but I exclaimed,--
"Miss Darry, I can never entirely love any other woman than yourself!"
She started almost convulsively from the contact of my hand, and met my
burning glance with one of such alarm and astonishment that I was stung
almost to madness. Undoubtedly, my anger was partly a reaction from the
period of dependence and tutelage, so galling to a proud and sensitive
nature.
"You have no right," I cried, passionately, "to despise the love you
have created. Listen; I do not expect any return. I know how theories
are practically applied,--how one may work for the poor and ignorant on
the broad table-land of perfect equality before God, and yet shrink from
contact with the befriended brothers and sisters at the same social meal
or in the same church. Shakspeare might have blackened Othello's skin by
toil, instead of nature, and the obstacles to a happy love would have
been in no degree lessened."
I paused; yet not a word did Miss Darry utter. Her face was so pale and
rigid that all my suspicion was confirmed; and I exclaimed, more
vehemently than before,--
"Remember, you cannot avoid the fact that I, a mere blacksmith, am your
lover; if rejected and despised, your lover still. I shall think of you
daily. You will not come to me alone the companion of my studio, one of
those delicate visions which flit through an artist's brain. You shall
stand beside my anvil. I will whisper your name when rough men are about
me. You shall be the one gold thread embroidered into the coarse garment
of my life,--my constant companion; yes, though you marry the first man
in the land."
Still she stood immovable, as if carved in her favorite marble.
"Miss Darry," I implored, "I know how unworthy my character is of your
love. Speak! If it is that you reject, I say no more; but what if your
prophecies are fulfilled,--if I become what you desire?"
Then my statue glowed with life,--a deep color on the cheek, a frank,
loving smile on the lips, banishing the doubtful, troubled expression I
had watched so narrowly.
"You do not understand the woman you profess to love, Sandy," she
replied, "if you suppose her capable of staking her favor on your future
distinction. Not as blacksmith or artist, but as the man I love, I think
of you to-night," she added, in a lower tone, returning to my side.
My happiness for the next few moments was complete. I held her closer in
that fading light, and studied with delight the sweet, half-yielding,
half-reproving expression with which she met my protestations of
gratitude and devotion, and which I fondly fancied my love had stamped
upon her face forever. Then I heard a quick step in the shrubbery, as of
some one sent to summon us, and reluctantly released from my hold the
embodiment at that instant of all I esteemed noblest and loveliest in
woman. With characteristic composure, Miss Darry answered the message by
gathering some of the roses beside us, and turning to reenter the
house. Afraid of my own lack of self-control, I would gladly have gone
home like a blushing girl; but my new pride of protecting Miss Darry
under all circumstances of difficulty compelled me to follow her. She
was, however, on returning to the house, the same bright, helpful person
as before. The scene on the lawn became, in half an hour, as the
baseless fabric of a dream; and thinking that Miss Darry's sentiment,
like that of the Colosseum, was best revealed by moonlight, I trusted in
the few parting words which I should seek occasion to speak to her on
the steps, as likely to restore her most captivating mood. When we
parted, however, she only said, with heightened color, to be sure,--
"Sandy, I am well aware, that, were you the 'mere blacksmith' you called
yourself in momentary passion to-night, bounded by narrow aims and
desires, I could never love you. We must not, therefore, allow our
affection to delay the destiny which, if you are faithful, most surely
awaits you."
The fervent nonsense which might naturally have disgusted or at least
wearied her she endured at first, as a necessary drawback; but it was
soon toned down by the consciousness that she was guiding me, as usual,
in paths best, if not always most agreeable to myself. She made no
stipulations of secrecy with regard to our engagement. Her frank nature
apparently admitted of no dim recesses to which only one must have the
key.
After a few days, therefore, I resolved to disclose my new relations to
the Brays, though I felt a most unaccountable reluctance to so doing.
Mr. Bray received the information with indifference; Mrs. Bray looked
surprised, and said she always knew Amos was respected, still she
shouldn't have felt certain that the "school-ma'am" (in which capacity
Miss Darry was spoken of in the village) would like to marry his
apprentice; and Annie stole from her seat at the breakfast-table, and,
laying her little hand on my shoulder, with a troubled look in her large
blue eyes, asked,--
"Do you really mean it, Sandy,--that you have promised to marry the
proud, handsome woman at Hillside?"
"Certainly, my little Annie," I replied; "I have promised to love and
care for her, and I suppose we shall be married by-and-by. Miss Darry is
not proud; it is only because you are too young to understand her that
you think so."
"But I understand Mrs. Lang, and I thought I understood you, Sandy. Are
you sure she will help you to grow happier and better?"
The tears were in her eyes. What induced these two--my betrothed wife
and little sister--to have such doubts of each other?
"Of course I am sure of her, Annie. She has helped me to grow more of a
man ever since I have known her; and as to being happier, two persons
loving each other must, of course, be happy together. Besides," I added,
smothering a sudden doubt, and assuming the philosopher, "we were not
placed in this world to be happy, Annie,--only to make of ourselves all
we can in every way."
"And to make others happy, Sandy," she added, in a wistful, tremulous
way, as though her heart were full.
"Yes, certainly; and when I have a wife and home, I will make my little
Annie so. She shall live with me, and confess that my wife is not proud,
but noble and kind."
"No, Sandy, I shall not leave my mother, father, and brother Tom, to
live with any one. I shall work with them and for them," she returned,
with a womanly dignity I had never before noticed in her.
"You do not love me, then, Annie?" I asked, selfishly grasping at the
affection I had so lightly prized.
"Yes, Sandy, as you love me; but not as we either of us care for our
own,--you for Miss Darry, I for my mother, father, and Tom."
This final, clear settlement of my claims was all that was granted,
though I lingered while she busied herself with her morning work, in
the hope of more hearty sympathy. I carried about with me all day a
restless, unsatisfied state of mind, quite strange in a newly accepted
lover, and scarcely to be exorcised by Miss Darry's bright cordiality in
the evening.