ADAH
I heard often from the farmhouse, and learned that Mr. Hearn had gone
to Europe almost immediately, but that he had returned in the latter
part of September, and had spent a week with his little girl, Mrs.
Bradford, his sister, accompanying him. "They seem to think Adela is
doing so well," Mrs. Yocomb wrote, "that they have decided to leave her
here through October. Adah spends part of every forenoon teaching the
little girls." In the latter part of November I received a letter that
made my heart beat thick and fast.
"We expect thee to eat thy Thanksgiving dinner with us, and we expect
also a friend from the West. I think she will treat thee civilly. At
any rate we have a right to invite whom we please. We drew up a
petition to Emily, and all signed it. Father added a direful
postscript. He said, 'If thee won't come quietly, I will go after thee.
Thee thinks I am a man of peace, but there will be commotion and
violence in Ohio if thee doesn't come; so, strong-willed as thee is,
thee has got to yield for once.' She wrote father the funniest letter
in reply, in which she agreed, for the credit of the Society of
Friends, not to provoke him to extremities. She doesn't know thee is
coming, but I think she knows me well enough to be sure that thee would
be invited. Emily writes that she will not return to New York to live,
since she can obtain more scholars than she needs at Columbus."
Mrs. Yocomb also added that Adah had left home that day for an extended
visit in the city, and she gave me her address.
I had written to Adah more than once, and had made out a programme of
what we should do when she came to town.
Quite early in the evening I started out to call upon her, but as I
drew near the house I saw that a handsome coupe stood before the door,
drawn by two horses, and that the coachman was in livery. My steps were
speedily arrested, for the door of the dwelling was opened, and Mr.
Hearn came out, accompanied by Adah. They entered the coupe and were
driven rapidly toward Fifth Avenue. I gave a long, low whistle, and
took two or three turns around the block, muttering, "Gilbert Hearn,
but you are shrewd. If you can't have the best thing in the world,
you'll have the next best. Come to think of it, she is the best for
you. If this comes about for Adah, I could throw my hat over yonder
steeple."
I went back to the house, proposing to leave my card, and thus show
Adah that I was not inattentive. The interior of the dwelling, like its
exterior, was plain, but very substantial and elegant. The servant
handed my card to a lady passing through the hall.
"Oh, thee is Richard Morton?" she said. "Cousin Ruth and Adah have told
us all about thee. Please come in, for I want to make thy acquaintance.
Adah will be so sorry to miss thee. She has gone out for the evening."
"If she will permit me," I said, "I will call to-morrow, on my way
downtown, for I wish to see her very much."
"Do so, by all means. Come whenever thee can, and informally. Thee'll
always find a welcome here."
Before I was aware I had spent an hour in pleasant chat, for with the
Yocombs as mutual friends we had common interests.
Mrs. Winfield, my hostess, had all the elegance of Mrs. Bradford; but
there was also a simple, friendly heartiness in her manner that stamped
every word she spoke with sincerity. I was greatly pleased, and felt
that the wealthy banker and his sister could find no fault with Adah's
connections.
She greeted me the next morning like the sister she had become in very
truth.
"Oh, Richard!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see thee. Why! thee's so
improved I'd hardly know thee. Seems to me thee's grown taller and
larger every way."
"I fear I looked rather small sometimes in the country."
"No, Richard, thee never looked small to me; but when I think what I
was when thee found me, I don't wonder thee went up to thy room in
disgust. I've thought a great deal since that day, and I've read some
too."
"If you knew how proud of you I am now, it would turn your head."
"Perhaps it isn't very strong. So thee's going to eat thy Thanksgiving
dinner at home. I shall be well out of the way."
"You will never be in my way; but perhaps I might have been in
somebody's way had I come earlier last night."
"I thought thee was blind," she said, an exquisite color coming into
her beautiful face.
"Never to your interests, Adah. Count on me to the last drop."
"Oh, Richard, thee has been so kind and helpful to me. Thee'll never
know all that's in my heart. When I think what I was when I first knew
thee, I wonder at it all."
"Adah," I said, taking her hand, "you have become a genuine woman. The
expression of your face has changed, and it has become a fine example
of the truth, that even beauty follows the law of living growth--from
within outward. Higher thoughts, noble principle, and unselfishness are
making their impress. After our long separation I see the change
distinctly, and I feel it still more. You have won my honest respect,
Adah; I predict for you a happy life, and, what is more, you will make
others happy. People will be the better for being with you."
"Well, Richard, now that we are brother and sister, I don't mind
telling thee that it was thee who woke me up. I was a fool before thee
came."
"But the true, sweet woman was in your nature ready to be awakened.
Other causes would soon have produced the same effect."
"Possibly; but I don't know anything about other causes. I do know
thee, and I trust thee with my whole heart, and I'm going to talk
frankly with thee because I want to ask thy advice. Thee knows how near
to death I came. I've thought a great deal about it. Having come so
near losing life, I began to think what life meant--what it was--and I
was soon made to see how petty and silly my former life had been. My
heart just overflowed with gratitude toward thee. When thee was so ill
I would often lie awake whole nights thinking and trembling lest thee
should die. I felt so strangely, so weak and helpless, that I stretched
out my hands to thee, and thy strong hands caught and sustained me
through that time when I was neither woman nor child. Thee never
humiliated me by even a glance. Thee treated me with a respect that I
did not deserve, but which I want to deserve. I am not strong, like
Emily Warren, but I am trying to do right. Thee changed a blind impulse
into an abiding trust and sisterly affection. Thee may think I'm giving
thee a strange proof of my trust. I am going to tell thee something
that I've not told any one yet. Last evening Gilbert Hearn took me to
see his sister, Mrs. Bradford, and I spent the evening with them and
little Adela. Coming home he asked me to be his wife. I was not so very
greatly surprised, for he spent every First Day in October at our house
while Adela was with us, and he was very attentive to me. Father and
mother don't like it very much, but I think they are a little
prejudiced against him on thy account. I believe thee will tell me the
truth about him."
"Adah dear, you _have_ honored me greatly. I will advise you just as I
would my own sister. What did you answer him last evening?"
"I told him that I was a simple country girl, and not suited to be his
wife. Then he said that he had a right to his own views about that. He
said he wanted a genuine wife--one that would love him and his little
girl, and not a society woman, who would marry him for his money."
"That is exceedingly sensible."
"Yes, he said he wanted a home, and that he was fond of quiet home
life; that I came of a quiet, sincere people, and that he had seen
enough of me to know that he could trust me. He said also that I could
be both a mother and a companion to Adela, and that the child needed
just such a disposition as I had."
I laughed as I said, "Mr. Hearn is sagacity itself. Even Solomon could
not act more wisely than he is seeking to act. But what does your heart
say to all this, Adah?"
Her color deepened, and she averted her face. "Thee will think I'm
dreadfully matter-of-fact, Richard, but I think that perhaps we are
suited to each other. I've thought about it a great deal. As I said
before, my head isn't very strong. I couldn't understand half the
things thee thinks and writes about. I've seen that clearly. He
wouldn't expect a wife to understand his business, and he says he wants
to forget all about it when he comes home. He says he likes a place
full of beauty, repose, and genial light. He likes quiet dinner parties
made up of his business friends, and not literary people like thee. We
haven't got great, inquiring minds like thee and Emily Warren."
"You are making fun of me now, Adah. I fear Miss Warren has thrown me
over in disgust."
"Nonsense, Richard. She loves thy little finger more than I am capable
of loving any man. She is strong and intense, and she could go with
thee in thought wherever thee pleases. I'm only Adah."
"Yes, you are Adah, and the man who has the reputation of having the
best of everything in the city wants you badly, and with good reason.
But I want to know what _you_ want."
"I want to know what thee thinks of it. I want thee to tell me about
him. Does thee know anything against him?"
"No, Adah. Even when I feared he would disappoint my dearest hope, I
told your mother that he was an honorable man. He is exceedingly shrewd
in business, but I never heard of his doing anything that was not
square. I think he would make you a very kind, considerate husband,
and, as he says, you could do so much for his little girl. But, rich as
he is, Adah, he is not rich enough for you unless you can truly love
him."
"I think I can love him in my quiet way. I think I would be happy in
the life I would lead with him. I'm fond of housekeeping, and very fond
of pretty things and of the city, as thee knows. Then I could do so
much for them all at home. Father and mother are growing old. Father
lent money some years ago, and lost it, and he and mother have to work
too hard. I could do so much for them and for Zillah, and that would
make me happy. But I am so simple, and I know so little, that I fear I
can't satisfy him."
"I have no fear on that score. What I am anxious about is, will he
satisfy you? You can't realize how bent upon your happiness I am."
"I thank thee, Richard. I was not wrong in coming to thee. Well, I told
him that I wanted to think it all over, and I asked him to do the same.
He said he had fully made up his mind and that his sister heartily
approved of his course, and had advised it. He said that he would wait
for me as long as I pleased. Now if thee thinks it's best, thy words
would have much influence with father and mother."
I raised her hand to my lips, and said, feelingly: "Adah, I am very
grateful for this confidence. I feel more honored that you should have
come to me than if I had been made Governor. In view of what you have
said, I do think it's best. Mr. Hearn will always be kind and
considerate. He will be very proud of you, and you will grow rapidly in
those qualities that will adorn your high social position. Do not
undervalue yourself. Gilbert Hearn may well thank God for you every day
of his life."
I went down to the office in a mood to write an interminable
Thanksgiving editorial, for it seemed as if the clouds were all
breaking away.