A VISIT TO THE BREEZES
Sunrise will come next!
The shadow of the night is passed away!
BROWNING.
“Yes,” said the Lady of Edengarden to herself on the morning after her
eventful conversation with Em., and while she and her young companion
sat together in the blue parlor, engaged with their embroidery—“yes,
though I have never left this island except to leave the country, I will
try to break the strong spell that has bound me, and to cast off the
dark nightmare that has oppressed me for years, and, for the sake of
this gentle child, and of one who bears the name and likeness of him I
loved and lost, I will seek the presence of the man whom I most dreaded
to meet in this world.”
All who ever knew Emolyn Wyndeworth knew that she was sensitive, timid,
and retiring in the extreme. To these weaknesses she owed all her
misfortunes. To these she had so succumbed as to have died a moral and
social death daily for the last seventeen years.
It required, therefore, a heroic effort in her to form this resolution.
It would require an almost superhuman one to carry it into effect.
While she was still trying to
“Screw ‘her’ courage to the sticking place”
for an interview with Commodore Bruce, two cards were brought in by her
page and placed in her hands.
“‘Dr. Willet,’ ‘Lieutenant Bruce,’” she read aloud.
Em. looked up suddenly, too much frightened to blush. She expected to
see a frown of anger at this intrusion on the face of her who had worn
nothing but smiles for her protégée.
But, no! that very grave face had not the slightest trace of displeasure
on it.
“Where have you left these gentlemen?” she inquired of her page.
“In the small white saloon, madam.”
“I will see them there. Go and say so.”
The page left the room and the lady turned to Emolyn, whose color was
rolling over her face like rose-leaves before a breeze.
“You are afraid I am not going to let you see your lover? Do not fear
that, my child ; I shall send him in to you. I have something to say to
Dr. Willet,” said the lady as she stooped and left a kiss on the brow of
the girl and passed from the room.
In the small white saloon—which was a sort of anteroom to the large
white saloon—the hostess found Dr. Willet and Lieutenant Bruce.
The former arose and advanced toward her with outstretched hands and
deprecating smile, saying:
“I have to beg your pardon for what I fear you will consider an
unpardonable liberty; but my young friend here——Allow me to present
Lieutenant Bruce——”
Here the young officer approached and bowed reverentially, and the lady
smiled on him and offered her hand, saying:
“I have heard of Lieutenant Bruce from a young lady who is staying with
me, and I am very happy to make him welcome to Edengarden.”
The young officer bowed again and lifted the hand of the lady to his
lips.
“So! the great gun is fired, and nobody killed or desperately wounded,”
muttered the doctor to himself; then, aloud: “My young friend here, as I
was about to say, asked me to introduce him to you, madam, and, in fact,
would take no denial.”
“I am very glad to see him,” repeated the lady.
“He had, in fact, a small parcel belonging to your young protégée, which
he did not care to trust to an ordinary messenger, and which I, for
reasons, did not volunteer to bring myself,” added the doctor with a
merry look.
“And perhaps, for the same cause, you would prefer to deliver your
parcel in person, Mr. Bruce,” suggested the lady with a smile.
“If you please, madam,” replied the young gentleman with a bow,
expecting that his hostess would then send for her little companion.
In fact, the lady touched the bell and brought her young page to her
presence.
“Show this gentleman to the blue parlor,” she said to the boy. “You will
find Miss Palmer there,” she added to the man.
Ronald Bruce arose, turned a grateful look upon the lady, and followed
the page.
“I perceive that you have divined this pretty little love idyl, and do
not disapprove it,” said Dr. Willet as soon as he was left alone with
the Lady of Edengarden.
“I was about to make the very same observation to you. No, indeed, I do
not disapprove of it. On the contrary, I wish to do everything I can to
forward it. Dr. Willet!”
“Well, my dear?”
“I am going to match-making.”
“You, my child?”
“Yes. From what I have understood, her want of fortune is the only
objection the lover’s friends have to his chosen bride—the only
objection they _can_ have—for the girl is beautiful, intellectual,
graceful, amiable, fairly educated, ladylike, and young enough to
improve in all these things.”
“But her want of fortune, my dear lady——”
“I can supply. I have ample means and no children, no, nor even near
relations in this world. I have fallen in love with this little girl!
You smile, but, indeed, that is the only way in which I can express my
sudden and increasing affection for little Emolyn Palmer. I will endow
her richly on her marriage, and make her my heiress at my death. You
smile again.”
“I am thinking, dear lady, that you and your protégée seem to be so
nearly of an age, that, to use a homely proverb, ‘When one dies of old
age, the other may quake for fear!’”
“There is sixteen years’ difference between our ages, doctor.”
“Indeed! But, yes, of course, when I come to remember, I know there must
be. And you will really endow this child?”
“Yes, Dr. Willet, and——”
“Well, my dear?”
“I wish to see Commodore Bruce myself on this subject.”
“You do! Oh, I am delighted to hear you say that you will see him on
_any_ subject! He will be so rejoiced to know that you live that I
believe it will add years to his own lease of life.”
“That is very pleasant to hear. Yet I do not see why the aged commodore
should take such a great interest in me! Why, indeed, he should take
_any_ interest now,” said the lady thoughtfully.
“I think it is from a morbid compunction—almost remorse.”
“‘Remorse?’”
“Yes, Emolyn! For on the last night before his son Leonidas embarked on
that fatal voyage from which he never returned the boy, moved by some
prophetic spirit, implored his father to watch over YOU—his own lifelong
playmate and companion. The father gave less heed to this parting prayer
than he afterwards had reason to suppose he should have done; and he has
fostered a morbid remorse of which he has only very lately made me the
confidant. He will be so glad to know that you still live, dear Emolyn,
that he will be likely to yield to any wish of yours, even to the
consenting that his nephew and heir shall marry the overseer’s
daughter.”
“Heaven grant it,” she breathed in tones so low, so full of controlled
emotion, that the doctor turned and regarded her with surprise. He could
not know the depths of bitter memory in her bosom that had been stirred
by the name of Leonidas Bruce.
“You take this girl’s interests very deeply to heart. No doubt you will
be able to influence the old commodore in their favor. Shall I bring him
here to see you to-morrow?” he inquired.
“No, no, for he is aged, and, as I have heard from Emolyn Palmer,
unwilling ever to stir from his home. No; but I will ask you, Dr.
Willet, to take me to see him. Will you do so?”
“Most willingly, my dear young friend. When shall I have the pleasure?
To-morrow? Next day? When?”
“Can I not go to-day? Accompany you when you return?” inquired the lady.
“Assuredly you can if you wish! I shall be very happy to have you. Young
Bruce and I rowed ourselves here, and we shall be very glad to row you
back with us.”
“How soon do you return? Do not think me inhospitable; for I know, of
course, by your bringing Lieutenant Bruce, that you did not intend to
give _us_ the pleasure of your company all day, and I only wished to
know if you were going directly to The Breezes, or intending to keep on
to Gray Rock?” said the lady with a deprecating smile.
“Oh, I understand perfectly, and so I am not sensitive! We are going
directly back to The Breezes, my dear lady, and will be happy to take
you with us,” said the doctor.
“Then, if you will kindly excuse me, I will go and put on my hat and
shawl and be ready, so that when our young friends have got through
their _tête-à-tête_ I may not keep you waiting,” replied the lady as she
left the room.
In the meantime Ronald Bruce passed into the blue parlor, where he found
Em. awaiting him.
The girl’s countenance prompted her to rebuke her lover for his second
audacious attempt to break through her father’s prohibition. But at the
sight of his loving, happy, radiant face her heart condoned the offense.
“Dear Em., dear, dearest Em.! don’t reproach me! I have not seen you for
a month. I could not stand it any longer. I had to make a friend of old
Dr. Willet, I mean a confidant, for he was always my friend—one of my
oldest and best friends—and I got him to bring me here and introduce me
to the lady of the house. Oh! Em., my treasure, I am so glad to see you!
Don’t reproach me!”
Indeed, she could not do so. His beaming countenance continued to shine
on her, while he held her hands, rapturously kissing them from time to
time as he poured forth his impetuous stream of words.
“I am _very_ glad to see you, Ronald, but, oh! I know I ought not to be
glad. Did my dear lady send you in to see me?” she inquired while he
placed himself at her side on the sofa.
“Oh, yes, to be sure she did! Some good spirit must have whispered to
her how much I wished to see you alone,” he said, still tightly holding
her hand and pressing it to his lips.
“Don’t, Ronald, please don’t do that,” she said, withdrawing her hand,
but adding, “I told the lady all about us, Ronald.”
“You! There, I said some angel had enlightened her, and you are the
one!” he murmured, as he recaptured her hand and deftly slipped a ring
upon her finger.
“Oh! what is this?” she exclaimed, raising the hand that he had then
released and gazing upon the sparkling solitaire diamond set in the
golden circle around her finger.
“It is something belonging to you,” he gravely replied.
“Belonging to me!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, it is your betrothal ring, ordered for you some weeks ago, but
never received until yesterday.”
She began to withdraw the ring from her finger, but he caught her hand
and prevented her from doing so as he said:
“No, Em., you must not remove it. You must wear it until it is replaced
by a wedding ring. Listen, Em.! Don’t make me out a story-teller! I said
I had a parcel to deliver which _belonged to you_, as it did belong to
you, since it was ordered and made for you—and that was my excuse for
wanting to intrude on the seclusion of this hermit lady! Don’t make me
out a mendacious villain by refusing to take _what belongs to you_!”
“I don’t understand your logic, dear Ronald; but I _know_ I must not
take a betrothal ring from you in the face of my father’s prohibition of
our engagement,” replied the girl as she steadily withdrew the ring from
her finger and returned it to him.
“Little wooden post! Little marble pillar! Little iceberg!” exclaimed
the young man half angrily. “Are we _not_ engaged, then? Do you withdraw
from your promise?”
“No, dear Ronald, not one iota! I promised never to marry any other
person but you, and, of course, I never shall. It was hardly worth while
to have made such a promise, though! It was altogether a word of
supererogation, for in _no_ case could I ever think of any other
marriage. But notwithstanding that, Ronald, I can never marry you until
my father withdraws his opposition, and so, dear, I must not take your
ring.”
“It is _you_ who are as relentless as a griffin! I do not find it so
difficult to manage the old man. He did not forbid me the house the last
time I went to see you there! No, although I went there on that occasion
against his order!”
“I suppose he thought it was no use to prohibit the visits of a man who
paid no attention to his prohibition,” said Em. gravely.
“No, that was not the reason! My father-in-law who is to be would have
been more likely to have kicked out any other man but me, under the like
circumstances. But I am really very much attached to the old man, and he
knows it, and he _could_ not snub me while I smiled in his face! That
was the reason why he did not repeat his prohibition or even forbid me
to visit you here!”
“Oh, my father would never have done the last! He had no right to say
that you should not come to Edengarden. But, Ronald, he confides in your
honor and in mine. And we must not abuse his confidence. He shall not be
disappointed in us, Ronald. Oh, I have something so delightful to tell
you, dear Ronald! I have already told you how I made known our case to
my dear friend and benefactress, and I suppose that was the reason why
she staid with Dr. Willet and sent you in to see me. Well, Ronald, this
dear lady feels so interested in us that she is going to interfere, and
she says she has a _talisman_—that is only her way of saying that she
has power and influence with the commodore sufficient to win his consent
to our marriage.”
“The Lady of Edengarden said that?” exclaimed young Bruce in surprise.
“Indeed she did, dear, and she promised faithfully to use her power in
our favor.”
“I do not know what power or influence this beautiful, mysterious and
most interesting lady can have with my old uncle. I am very sure that he
is not even acquainted with her; for on one occasion, when I first came
to The Breezes, I asked him if he knew his neighbor on the island, whose
name was on everybody’s lips; he said no, he didn’t know her, and had
never even heard of her until very recently; and he added in his rough
way that he didn’t want to know her—that he disapproved of women whose
eccentricities placed their names in everybody’s mouth! That is a dark
prospect for her success with my uncle, Em., my darling!”
“Ah! but I suspect that the Lady of Edengarden knows what she is talking
about. Besides, how should Commodore Bruce be able to tell whether he
has ever known her before? Hardly any one knows who she was, or where
she came from. For my part, I believe she _has_ the power and influence
which she claims,” said Em., speaking with confidence, although she did
not feel at liberty to speak with explicitness.
“Very well, my dearest, I pin my faith on Mrs. Lynn and on your superior
knowledge of that lady, only devoutly praying that my faith, as well as
yours, may be justified,” said Ronald Bruce.
What more he might have said on the same subject does not appear,
because the abrupt entrance of the little page stopped the conversation.
“If you please, sir, Dr. Willet bid me say to you, with his compliments,
that he is ready to go,” said the boy.
“Very well! Tell Dr. Willet I will join him in a minute,” replied the
young man.
The boy withdrew to carry his message.
When they were once more alone Em. said:
“Dear Ronald, do not keep the good doctor waiting.”
“I will not, darling, especially as I owe to him the introduction
that enables me to visit you here; for now that an _entrée_ has
been effected, I shall come often, Em., unless my excellent
father-in-law-elect should take it into his conscientious head to
forbid me! Well, good-by, my precious!” he said, stooping to kiss
her.
“Stop,” she said, deftly evading the caress. “I am going out with you to
see Dr. Willet. I want to ask him how my dear old Aunty Whitlock is!”
“Oh, Em., was ever a girl so blessed or burdened with relations as you
are?”
“Blessed—not burdened,” said Em. as they left the parlor and walked on
together to the little white saloon.
“Oh, Dr. Willet, I am so glad to see you to-day. Have you been to the
Wilderness this morning?” inquired Em. as she shook hands with the good
physician.
“Yes, my child; and I left them all well, with the exception of Mrs.
Whitlock, who is no better,” replied the doctor as he arose to take
leave.
“You are going out, dear madam?” inquired Em. as she saw Mrs. Lynn
standing beside the door, dressed for her visit.
“Yes, my love. The doctor’s call this morning is very opportune, since
it affords me the privilege of his escort to The Breezes,” said Mrs.
Lynn with a bow to the physician.
Em. exchanged an intelligent glance with her lover; but that was all
they could do, for the doctor advanced and shook hands with her again,
this time bidding her good-by.
“But who is to bring you home again, madam?” anxiously inquired Em. of
her benefactress.
“_I_ shall have that honor, so I will not say good-by, but _au revoir_,”
Ronald Bruce hastened to add as he seized and pressed her hand.
The lady and her escort then left the house and walked down to the boat.
“It is only about half way to the Wilderness Manor Landing that we have
to go to reach The Breezes, I believe,” said Mrs. Lynn, as she permitted
herself to be assisted into the boat and accommodated with a cushioned
seat in the stern.
“Scarcely so far. We shall reach The Breezes in half an hour with _our_
rowing,” answered Ronald Bruce, as he pushed off the boat.
Then both gentlemen laid themselves to the oars and the boat sped on.