A CRISIS--PRIDE AND FOLLY.
For weeks Antoinette's letter lay in the drawer where Louise had
hastily thrust it, and no one had read it to the end.
Mrs. Hawley's health, which had been feeble for a long time, rapidly
declined after the news of her husband's death, and in a few days she
took to her bed, and shortly after died. The sickness and death of a
member of her family, combined with her own sufferings so absorbed the
mind of Little Wolf, that at the time she thought of but little else.
But when it was all over, and her arm had partially healed, she began
to realize acutely the anomalous position in which the purpose she had
formed placed her to Edward.
It is true he came every day, and always with words upon his lips that
sent the hot blood to her cheek, and each time she strove in vain for
courage to approach the subject upon which hung her destiny. It was no
wonder that she thus halted; that her heart stood still at the bare
possibility of losing its idol; for, orphaned and alone, beyond it she
saw no light in her path; only fearful darkness like the shadows of
death.
There had been no word of explanation, and Edward seemed to have
forgotten that he had ever desired any, and he had settled into his
former assurance. His mother had, of late, spoken to her
confidentially of the time when, as Edward's wife it would be her
pleasure to relieve her of all troublesome cares; and Little Wolf
listened in silence and in agony. She longed to unbosom her feelings
but restrained herself with the resolve that she would, without
delay, make them known to Edward.
In this state of mind she one day opened the drawer where lay
Antoinette's letter and taking it out sat down to read it. She found
nothing of interest in the contents, except that which she had
previously heard, until her eye caught the postscript at the bottom
which read thus:
"One day later. The Indian stayed yesterday to assist in
burying the dead. He has just breakfasted and will start in a
few moments, and I hasten to tell you the good news. Rejoice
with me, all my fears are put to flight. Last night my
conscience told me that I ought to invite cousin John to read
this letter. He looked so serious when he had done so, that I
was afraid I had offended him. But this morning to my utter
astonishment he handed me a Total Abstinence Pledge, drawn up
in due form, with his own name and Maria's signed to it, and
playfully bade me write my name with theirs. "For," said he,
"Antoinette, I intend in future to look well to the morals of
my household, and see that they touch not, taste not, handle
not, any beverage that will intoxicate." I burst into tears,
and he said, "O well, if you feel so badly about it, you need
not sign it," but he well knew they were tears of joy, and
there would be no trouble about signing it. Would that the
head of every family in the land, might do as cousin John has
done. Then indeed, there would be rejoicing around many a
fireside, where now sits sorrow and despair.
In love and haste,
"ANTOINETTE,"
Little Wolf sat pondering over what she had read, never dreaming that
her lover was peeping in upon her through the half open door. But
Edward was to full of what he had come that day especially to say, to
delay long, and he tapped lightly to attract her attention. Little
Wolf welcomed him to her side, with the determination that she would
then and there speak frankly upon the subject, which had so long
pressed upon her mind.
But Edward had scarcely seated himself before he began in high spirits
to speak of family arrangements.
"Louise and the doctor," said he, "have finally fixed upon their
wedding, and darling," he said, lowering his voice, and speaking
earnestly, "it remains for you to say whether or not, ours shall be at
the same time.
Little Wolf's pulse quickened almost to suffocation, but she
controlled herself bravely, and placing her finger on the last passage
in Antoinette's letter, she said, "read that, Edward."
Edward did as she desired, and again turned upon her a questioning
look.
"Now, Edward," said Little Wolf, smiling although her lip slightly
quivered, "I am ready to set up house-keeping with you any time,
provided you will put your name with mine to a pledge like that of
which you have just read."
Although she had spoken playfully, Edward saw she was deeply in
earnest, and his pride kindled, as the truth flashed upon him.
"Darling," said he, reproachfully, "I may have given you reason once,
in an unguarded moment, to fear for me, but I had hoped that that
scene had long since been forgotten."
"It will never more be remembered, nothing of the kind will _ever_ be
remembered," Little Wolf hastened to say, "If I but have your
promise."
"Well, then," said Edward clasping her in his arms, "I promise."
In due time Little Wolf disengaged herself and opening her writing
desk, she drew him towards it, saying, "Now, Edward, you draw up the
document, and we will both sign it.
"What document do you wish me to draw up? Is not my pledged word to
love, cherish and protect you not enough, you little infidel?" said
Edward gayly."
"It is my request that you draw up a pledge promising to abstain from
all intoxicating drinks, and sign your name to it, and I will put mine
to the same," said Little Wolf, in the same gay humor.
"Why, darling," said Edward, in surprise, "my promise was all you
asked."
"O yes, your promise to sign a total abstinence pledge was all I did
ask," said Little Wolf cheerily, "and now, all I ask is that you do as
you agreed."
"I did not understand it so," said Edward, "but never mind, darling;
now listen to me. Would you, provided it were in your power, prevent
my taking a harmless glass of beer in a warm summer day?"
"Well, Edward, of course I would not wish to prevent your indulging in
any _harmless_ enjoyment, but don't people sometimes get intoxicated
on beer?"
"Only slightly elevated," said Edward laughingly.
"O, Edward!" broke forth Little Wolf in agony, "I wish you could see
this thing as I do but you cannot."
There was silence for a few moments, which Edward broke by saying,
sympathizingly, "I know why you feel as you do, darling, and I do not
wonder at it, but warned by my own, as well as the experience of
others, I shall keep a strict watch over myself for your dear sake,
and I assure you there is no danger of me."
"Then," said Little Wolf, despairingly, "I cannot persuade you to
pledge yourself to total abstinence?"
"No," said Edward decidedly, his pride deeply wounded by her implied
doubts of his inability to control his appetite, "if you feel that you
cannot trust yourself with me after all I have said, I can say no
more."
Had Edward fallen dead at her feet, Little Wolf could not have looked
at him more hopelessly. But Edward was blind to her mute anguish, and
mortified and impatient at her silence, and little dreaming of what
her answer would be, he at length asked rather coolly, "Do you really
feel that you cannot trust your happiness with me?"
Little Wolf struggled a moment for composure, and then bowed her head
in the affirmative.
Edward's flushed face suddenly paled. "Very well," said he proudly,
and without another word abruptly withdrew. His quick, impetuous
footsteps echoed through the hall; the front door opened and closed,
and soon the distant tinkling of bells announced that he had really
gone.
As the lovely violet closes its leaves when the shadows of night
gather round, so closed the flower, which, in the sunshine of love,
had bloomed in the heart of Little Wolf. She neither wept nor made any
other demonstration of sorrow, but as she sat silent and alone her
lips grew firm, and her eyes brightened and the pupils expanded, and
her whole being seemed rising up in supernatural strength to bear the
blow.