IN THE DEPTHS
I awoke late Sunday morning and found Reuben watching beside me.
"Thee's better, isn't thee?" he asked eagerly.
"Well, I ought to be. You're a good fellow, Reuben. What time is
it?--nearly night again, I hope."
"Oh, no, it's only about eleven; they're all gone to meeting. I made
'em leave you in my care. Adah would have stayed, but mother told her
she was to go. Emily Warren's grandfather wanted to go spooning off in
the woods, but she made him go to meeting too. I don't see how she ever
came to like him, with his grand airs."
"She has good reasons, rest assured."
"Well, he ain't the kind of a man I'd go for if I was a girl."
"Miss Warren is not the girl to go for any man, Reuben. He had to seek
her long and patiently. But that's their affair--we have nothing to do
with it."
"I thought thee was taken with her at first," said Reuben innocently.
"I do admire Miss Warren very much--now as much as ever. I admire a
great many ladies, especially your mother. I never knew a truer, kinder
lady."
"And if it had not been for thee, Richard, she might have been burned
up," and tears came into his eyes.
"Oh, no, Reuben. You could have got them all out easily enough."
"I fear I would have lost my head."
"No, you wouldn't; you are not of that kind. Please say no more about
that affair. I've heard too much of it."
"Does thee think thee'll be able to come down to dinner? Mother and
father and all of us will be awfully disappointed if thee isn't."
"Yes, I'll come down if you'll stand by me, and help me back when I
give you the wink. I won't go down till dinner's ready; after it's over
you can help me out under some tree. I'm just wild to get out of doors."
I had a consuming desire to retrieve myself, and prove that I was not
weakness personified, and I passed through the ordeal of dinner much
better than I expected. Mr. Hearn was benignness itself, but I saw that
he was very observant. The shrewd Wall Street man had the eye of an
eagle when his interests were concerned, and he very naturally surmised
that no one could have seen so much of Miss Warren as I had, and still
remain entirely indifferent; besides, he may have detected something in
my manner or imagined that the peculiar events of the past few weeks
had made us better acquainted than he cared to have us.
Miss Warren's greeting was cordial, but her manner toward me was so
quiet and natural that he had no cause for complaint, and I felt that I
had rather be drawn asunder by wild horses than give him a clew to my
feelings. I took a seat next to Mr. Yocomb, and we chatted quietly most
of the time. The old gentleman was greatly pleased about something, and
it soon came out that Mr. Hearn had promised him five hundred dollars
to put a new roof on the meeting-house and make other improvements. I
drew all the facts readily from the zealous Friend, together with quite
a history of the old meeting-house, for I proposed to make a
complimentary item of the matter in my paper, well knowing how grateful
such incense was to the banker's soul. Mr. Hearn, who sat nearest to
us, may have heard my questions and divined my purpose, for he was
peculiarly gracious.
I was not able to do very much justice to Mrs. Yocomb's grand dinner,
but was unstinted in my praise. The banker made amends for my
inability, and declared he had never enjoyed such a repast, even at
Delmonico's. I though Miss Warren's appetite flagged a little, but to
the utmost extent of my power I kept my eyes and thoughts from her.
After dinner Reuben helped me to a breezy knoll behind the dwelling,
and spreading some robes from the carriage-house under a wide-branching
tree, left me, at my request, to myself. The banker now had his way,
and carried Miss Warren off to a distant grove. I would not look at
them as they went down the lane together, but shut my eyes and tried to
breathe in life and health.
Adah read to the two little girls for some time, and then came
hesitatingly toward me. I feigned sleep, for I was too weak and
miserable to treat the girl as she deserved. She stood irresolutely a
moment or two, and then slowly and lingeringly returned to the house.
My feigning soon became reality, and when I awoke Reuben was sitting
beside me, and I found had covered me well to guard against the
dampness of the declining day.
"You are always on hand when I need you most," I said smilingly. "I
think I will go back to my room now, while able to make a respectable
retreat."
I saw Mr. Hearn and Miss Warren entering the house, and thought that
they had had a long afternoon together, but that time no doubt had
passed more quickly with them than with me, even though I had slept for
hours. When reaching the parlor door I saw Miss Warren at the piano;
she turned so quickly as almost to give me the impression that she was
waiting to intercept me.
"Would you not like to hear your favorite nocturne again?" she asked,
with a friendly smile.
I hesitated, and half entered the parlor. Her face seemed to light up
with pleasure at my compliance. How divine she appeared in the quaint,
simple room! I felt that I would gladly give the best years of my life
for the right to sit there and feast my eyes on a grace and beauty that
to me were indescribable and irresistible; but the heavy tread of the
banker in the adjoining room reminded me that I had no right--that to
see her and to listen would soon become unendurable pain. I had twice
been taught my weakness.
"Thank you," I said, with a short, dry laugh; "I'm sorely tempted, but
it's time I learned that for me discretion is certainly the better part
of valor," and I turned away, but not too soon to see that her face
grew sad and wistful.
"Heaven bless her kind heart!" I murmured as I wearily climbed the
stairs.
Adah brought me up my supper long before the others were through, and I
felt a faint remorse that I had feigned sleep in the afternoon, even
though my motive had been consideration for her as truly as for myself.
"Miss Adah!" I exclaimed, "you are growing much too unselfish. Why
didn't you get your supper first?"
"I've had all I wish. I'm not hungry to-night."
"Truly, you look as if you lived on roses; but you can't thrive long on
such unsubstantial diet. It was real good of you to read to those
children so long. If I had been an artist, I would have made a sketch
of you three. You and that little dark-eyed girl make a lovely
contrast."
"I like her," she said simply; "I feel as if I wanted some one to pet.
Can't I read to you while you eat your supper?"
"I'd rather have you talk to me: what do you think of the little girl's
father?"
"I haven't thought much about him."
"I wish you could see his house in New York; it's a superb one, and on
your favorite Fifth Avenue."
"Yes, I know," she replied absently.
"I should think you would envy Miss Warren."
"I don't," she said emphatically; "the man is more than the house."
"I don't think you would have said that a month ago."
"I fear not. I fear thee didn't like me that Sunday afternoon when I
was so self-satisfied. I've thought it over."
"Indeed, Miss Adah, I would gladly be struck by lightning myself if it
would change me for the better as greatly as you are changed."
"It wasn't the lightning," she said, blushing and slowly shaking her
head. "I've been thinking."
"Ah," I laughed, "you are shrewd. If women only knew it, there's
nothing that gives beauty like thought, and it's a charm that increases
every year. Well," I continued, with the utmost frankness, "I do like
you now, and what is more, I honestly respect you. When you come to New
York again, I am going to ask your mother to trust me as if I were your
older brother, and I'll take you to see and hear much that I'm sure
you'll enjoy."
"Oh, that will be splendid!" she cried gladly. "I know mother will let
me go with thee, because--because--well, she says thee is a gentleman."
"Do you know, Miss Adah, I'd rather have your mother say that than have
all Mr. Hearn's thousands. But your mother judges me leniently. To tell
you the honest truth, I've come lately to have a very poor opinion of
myself. I feel that I would have been a much better man if, in past
years, I had seen more of such people as dwell in this house."
"Thee remembers what father said to thee," she replied, shyly, with
downcast eyes; "this is thy home hereafter."
"She looks now," I thought, "as if she might fulfil the dream I wove
about her on that memorable day when I first saw her in the
meeting-house. How perverse my fate has been, giving me that for which
I might well thank God on my knees, and yet which my heart refuses, and
withholding that which will impoverish my whole life. Why must the
heart be so imperious and self-willed in these matters? An elderly
gentleman would say, Everything is just right as it is. It would be the
absurdity of folly for Miss Warren to give up her magnificent prospects
because of your sudden and sickly sentiment; and what more could you
ask or wish than this beautiful girl, whose womanhood has awakened and
developed under your very eyes, almost as unconsciously as if a rosebud
had opened and shown you its heart? Indeed, but a brief time since I
would have berated any friend of mine who would not take the sensible
course which would make all happy. If I could but become 'sane and
reasonable,' as Miss Warren would say, how she would beam upon me, and,
the thought of my disappointment and woe-begone aspect banished, how
serenely she would go toward her bright future! And yet in taking this
sane and sensible course I would be false to my very soul--false to
this simple, true-hearted girl, to whom I could give but a cold, hollow
pretence in return for honest love. I would become an arrant hypocrite,
devoid of honor and self-respect."
"Heaven bless you, Adah!" I murmured. "I love you too well for all your
kindness and goodness to pretend to love you so ill."
Thoughts like these passed through my mind as I thanked her for all
that she had done for me, and told her of such phases of New York life
as I thought would interest her. She listened with so intent and
childlike an expression on her face that I could scarcely realize that
I was talking to one in whose bosom beat the heart of a woman. I felt
rather as if I were telling Zillah a fairy story.
Still I had faith in her intuition, and believed that after I was gone
she would recognize and accept the frank, brotherly regard that I now
cherished toward her.
Reuben was not very long in joining us, and boy-like did not note that
his sister evidently wished him far away. My greeting was so cordial
that she noted with a sigh that I did not regard him as the unwelcome
third party. Then Mr. Yocomb and the little girls came to the door and
asked if there was room for a crowd. Soon after Mrs. Yocomb appeared,
with her comely face ruddy from exercise.
"I've hurried all I could," she said, "but thee knows how it is with
housekeepers; and yet how should thee know, living all thy life alone
in dens, as thee said? Why, thee's having a reception."
"I fear your guests downstairs will feel neglected, Mrs. Yocomb."
"Don't thee worry about that, Richard," Mr. Yocomb said, laughing. "I'm
not so old, mother, but I can remember when we could get through an
evening together without help from anybody. I reckon we could do so
again--eh? mother? Ha, ha, ha! so thee isn't too old to blush yet?
How's that, Richard, for a young girl of sixty? Don't thee worry about
Emily Warren. I fear that any one of us would make a large crowd in the
old parlor."
This was sorry comfort, and I fear that my laugh was anything but
honest, while Mrs. Yocomb stared out of the window, at which she sat
fanning herself, with a fixedness that I well understood.
But they were all so kind and hearty that I could no more give way to
dejection than to chill and cheerlessness before a genial wood fire.
They seemed in truth to have taken me into the family. Barely was I now
addressed formally as Richard Morton. It was simply "Richard," spoken
with the unpremeditated friendliness characteristic of family
intercourse. Heathen though I was, I thanked God that he had brought me
among these true-hearted people; "and may He blast me," I muttered, "if
I ever relapse into the old sneering cynicism that I once affected. Let
me at least leave that vice to half-fledged young men and to bad old
men."
One thing puzzled me. Miss Warren remained at her piano, and it struck
me as a little odd that she did not find the music of her lover's voice
preferable, but I concluded that music was one of the strongest bonds
of sympathy between them, and one of the means by which he had won her
affection. Sometimes, as her voice rose clear and sweet to my open
windows, I answered remarks addressed to me with an inaptness that only
Mrs. Yocomb understood.
Before very long, that considerate lady looked into my face a moment,
and then said decisively:
"Richard, thee is getting tired. We must all bid thee good-night at
once."
Adah looked almost resentfully at her mother, and lingered a little
behind the others. As they passed out she stepped hastily back, and
unclasping a rosebud from her breastpin laid it on the table beside me.
"It was the last one I could find in the garden," she said,
breathlessly, and with its color in her cheeks. Before I could speak
she was gone.
"It shall be treated with reverence, like the feeling which led to the
gift," I murmured sadly. "Heaven grant that it may be only the impulse
of a girlish fancy;" and I filled a little vase with water and placed
the bud near the window, where the cool night air could blow upon it.
Still Miss Warren remained at the piano. "How singularly fond of music
he is!" I thought.
I darkened my room, and sat at the window that I might hear every note.
The old garden, half hidden by trees, looked cool and Eden-like in the
light of the July moon, athwart whose silver hemisphere fleecy clouds
were drifting like the traces of thought across a bright face.
Motionless shadows stretched toward the east, from which the new day
would come, but with a dreary sinking of heart I felt as it each coming
day would bring a heavier burden.
But a little time passed before I recognized Chopin's Nocturne, to
which I had listened with kindling hope on the night of the storm. Was
it my own mood, or did she play it with far more pathos and feeling
than on that never-to-be-forgotten evening? Be that as it may, it
evoked a fiercer storm of unavailing passion and regret in my mind. In
bitterness of heart I groaned aloud and insulted God.
"It was a cruel and terrible thing," I charged, "to mock a creature
with such a hope. Why was such power over me given to her when it was
of no use?" But I will say no more of that hour of weak human idolatry.
It was a revelation to me of the depths of despair and wretchedness
into which one can sink when unsustained by manly fortitude or
Christian principle. It is in such desperate, irrational moods that
undisciplined, ill-balanced souls thrust themselves out from the light
of God's sunshine and the abundant possibilities of future good. I now
look back on that hour with shame, and cannot excuse it even by the
fact that I was enfeebled in mind as well as body by disease. We often
never know ourselves or our need until after we have failed miserably
under the stress of some strong temptation.
I was the worse the next day for my outburst of passion, and the
wretched night that followed, and did not leave my room; but I was grim
and rigid in my purpose to retrieve myself. I appeared to be occupied
with my mail and paper much of the day, and I wrote a very
complimentary paragraph concerning the banker's gift for the
meeting-house. Mr. Hearn and Miss Warren were out riding much of the
time. I saw them drive away with a lowering brow, and was not disarmed
of my bitterness because I saw, through the half-closed blinds, that
the young girl stole a swift glance at my window.
Adah was pleased as she saw how I was caring for her gift; but I
puzzled and disheartened her by my preoccupation and taciturnity. She
took the children off on a long ramble in the afternoon, and heaped
coals of fire on my head by bringing me an exquisite collection of
ferns.
The next morning I went down to breakfast resolving to take my place in
the family, and make no more trouble during the brief remainder of my
stay, for I proposed to go back to the city as soon as I had shown
enough manhood to satisfy my pride, and had made Miss Warren believe
that she could dismiss her solicitude on my account, and thus enjoy the
happiness which apparently I had clouded. As I saw her pale face again
I condemned my weakness unsparingly, and with the whole force of my
will endeavored to act and appear as both she and Mr. Hearn would
naturally wish.
"Richard," said Reuben, after breakfast, "I've borrowed a low phaeton,
and I'm going to take thee out with Dapple. He'll put life in thee,
never fear. He'd cure me if I were half dead."
He was right; the swift motion through the pure air braced me greatly.
When we returned, the banker sat on the piazza. Adah was near, with
some light sewing, and the connoisseur was leisurely admiring her. Well
he might, for in her neat morning gown she again seemed the embodiment
of a June day. She rose to meet me, with a faint accession to her
delicate color, and said:
"The ride has done thee good; thee looks better than thee has any day
yet."
"Reuben's right," I said, laughing; "Dapple would bring a fossil to
life," and the young fellow drove chuckling down toward the barn,
making Dapple rear and prance in order to show off a little before Mr.
Hearn.
I sat down a few moments to rest. Miss Warren must have heard our
voices; but she went on with an intricate piece of music in which she
was displaying no mean skill. I did not think Mr. Hearn was as much
interested in it as I was. His little girl came out of the house and
climbed into Adah's lap. She evidently liked being petted, and was not
a little spoiled by it The banker continued to admire the picture they
made with undisguised enjoyment, and I admitted that the most critical
could have found no fault with the group.
After exerting myself to seem exceedingly cheerful, and laughing
heartily at a well-worn jest of Mr. Hearn's, I went to my room and
rested till dinner, and I slept away the afternoon as on the previous
day.
My plan was now to get sufficiently strong to take my departure by the
following Monday, and I was glad indeed that the tonic of out-of-door
air promised an escape from a position in which I must continually seem
to be what I was not--a cheerful man in the flood tide of
convalescence. Were it not that my kind friends at the farmhouse would
have been grievously hurt, I would have left at once.
As I returned from my ride the next day, Mr. Hearn greeted me with a
newspaper in his hand.
"I'm indebted to you," he said, in his most gracious manner, "for a
very kindly mention here. So small a donation was not worth the
importance you give it, but you have put the matter so happily and
gracefully that it may lead other men of means to do likewise at the
various places of their summer sojourn. You editors are able to wield a
great deal of influence."
I bowed, and said I was glad the paragraph had been worded in a way not
disagreeable to him.
"Oh, it was good taste itself, I assure you, sir. It seemed the natural
expression of your interest in that which interests your good friends
here."
When I came down to dinner I saw that there was an unwonted fire in
Miss Warren's eyes and unusual color in her cheeks. Moreover, I
imagined that her replies to the few remarks that I addressed to her
were brief and constrained. "She is no dissembler," I thought;
"something has gone wrong."
After dinner I went to my room for a book, and as I came out I met her
in the hall.
"Mr. Morton," she said, with characteristic directness, "if you had
given a sum toward a good object in a quiet country place, would you
have been pleased to see the fact paraded before those having no
natural interest in the matter?"
"I have never had the power to be munificent, Miss Warren," I replied,
with some embarrassment.
"Please answer me," she insisted, with a little impatient tap of the
floor with her foot.
"No," I said bluntly.
"Did you think it would be pleasing to me?"
"Pardon me," I began, "that I did not sufficiently identify you with
Mr. Hearn--"
"What!" she interrupted, blushing hotly, "have I given any reason for
not being identified with him?"
"Not at all--not in one sense," I said bitterly. "Of course you are
loyalty itself."
She turned away so abruptly as to surprise me a little.
"You had no more right to think it would be pleasing to him than to
me," she resumed coldly.
"Miss Warren," I said, after a moment, "don't turn your back on me. I
won't quarrel with you, and I promise to do nothing of the kind again;"
and I spoke gravely and a little sadly.
"When you speak in that way you disarm me completely," she said, with
one of the sudden illuminations of her face that I so loved to see; but
I also noted that she had become very pale, and as my eyes met hers I
thought I detected the old frightened look that I had seen when I had
revealed my feelings too clearly after my illness.
"She fears that I may again speak as I ought not," I thought; and
therefore I bowed quietly and passed on. Mr. Hearn was reading the
paper on the piazza. I took a chair and went out under the elm, not far
away. In a few moments Miss Warren joined her affianced, and sat down
with some light work.
"Emily," I heard the banker say, as if the topic were uppermost in his
mind, "I'd like to call your attention to this paragraph. I think our
friend has written it with unusual good taste and grace, and I've taken
pains to tell him so."
I could not help hearing his words; but I would not look up to see her
humiliation, and turned a leaf, as if intent on my author.
After a moment she said, with slight but clear emphasis:
"I can't agree with you."
A little later she went to the piano; but I never heard her play so
badly. A glance at Mr. Hearn revealed that his dignity and complacency
had received a wound that he was inclined to resent. I strolled away
muttering:
"She has idealized him as she did Old Plod, but after all it's not a
very serious foible in a man of millions."
Before the day passed she found an opportunity to ask:
"Why did you not tell me that Mr. Hearn had spoken to you approvingly
of that paragraph?"
"I would not willingly say anything to annoy you," I replied quietly.
"Did you hear him call my attention to it?"
"I could not help it."
"You did not look up and triumph over me."
"That would have given me no pleasure."
"I believe you," she said, in a low tone; but she devoted herself so
assiduously to the stately banker that he became benignness itself. I
also observed that Mr. Yocomb looked in vain for the paper after tea.
"I happened to destroy the copy," I said very innocently.