CONCLUSION.
We hope the reader does not expect us to describe the meeting between
Durward and ’Lena, for we have not the least, or, at the most, only a
faint idea of what took place. We only know that it occurred in the
summer-house at the foot of the garden, whither ’Lena had fled at the
first intimation of his arrival, and that on her return to the house,
after an interview of two whole hours, there were on her cheeks traces
of tears, which the expression of her face said were not tears of
grief.
“How do you like my daughter?” asked Mr. Graham, mischievously, at the
same time laying his arm proudly about her neck.
“So well that I have asked her to become my wife, and she has promised
to do so, provided we obtain your consent,” answered Durward, himself
throwing an arm around the blushing girl, who tried to escape, but he
would not let her, holding her fast until his father’s answer was
given.
Then turning to Mrs. Graham, he said, “Now, mother, we will hear you.”
Kind and affectionate as she tried to be toward ’Lena, Mrs. Graham had
not yet fully conquered her olden prejudice, and had the matter been
left wholly with herself, she would, perhaps, have chosen for her son a
bride in whose veins _no plebeian blood_ was flowing; but she well knew
that her objections would have no weight, and she answered, that “she
should not oppose him.”
“Then it is settled,” said he, “and four weeks from to-night I shall
claim ’Lena for my own.”
“No, not so soon after grandma’s death,” ’Lena said, and Durward
replied:
“If grandma could speak, she would tell you not to wait!” but ’Lena was
decided, and the most she would promise was, that in the spring she
would think about it!
“Six months,” said Durward, “I’ll never wait so long!” but he forbore
pressing her further on the subject, knowing that he should have her in
the house with him, which would in a great measure relieve the tedium
of waiting.
During the autumn, his devotion to ’Lena furnished Carrie with a
subject for many ill-natured remarks concerning newly-engaged people.
“I declare,” said she, one evening after the departure of Durward,
’Lena, and Nellie, who had been spending the day at Maple Grove, “I’m
perfectly disgusted, and if this is a specimen, I hope I shall never be
engaged.”
“Don’t give yourself a moment’s uneasiness,” retorted John Jr., “I’ve
not the least idea that such a calamity will ever befall you, and years
hence my grandchildren will read on some gravestone, ‘Sacred to the
memory of Miss Caroline Livingstone, aged 70. In single blessedness she
lived—and in the same did die!’”
“You think you are cunning, don’t you,” returned Carrie, more angry
than she was willing to admit.
She had received the news of Durward’s engagement much better than
could have been expected, and after a little she took to quoting and
cousining ’Lena, while John Jr. seldom let an opportunity pass of
hinting at the very recent date Of her admiration for Miss Graham.
Almost every day for several weeks after Durward’s return, he looked
for a visit from Joel Slocum, who did not make his appearance until
some time toward the last of November. Then he came, claiming, and
_proving_, his relationship with Mrs. Graham, who was terribly annoyed,
and who, it was rumored, _hired_ him to leave!
During the winter, nothing of importance occurred, if we except the
fact that a part of Mabel’s fortune, which was supposed to have been
lost, was found to be good, and that John Jr. one day unexpectedly
found himself to be the lawful heir of fifty thousand dollars. Upon
Mrs. Livingstone this circumstance produced a rather novel effect,
renewing, in its original force, all her old affection for Mabel, who
was now “our dear little Meb.” Many were the comparisons drawn between
Mrs. John Jr. No. 1, and Mrs. John Jr. No. 2, that was to be, the
former being pronounced far more lady-like and accomplished than the
latter, who, during her frequent visits at Maple Grove, continually
startled her mother-in-law elect by her loud, ringing laugh, for Nellie
was very happy. Her influence, too, over John Jr. became ere long,
perceptible in his quiet, gentle manner, and his abstinence from the
rude speeches which heretofore had seemed a part of his nature.
Mrs. Graham had proposed spending the winter in New Orleans, but to
this Durward objected. He wanted ’Lena all to himself, he said, and as
she seemed perfectly satisfied to remain where she was, the project was
given up, Mrs. Graham contenting herself with anticipating the splendid
entertainment she would give at the wedding, which was to take place
about the last of March. Toward the first of January the preparations
began, and if Carrie had never before felt a pang of envy, she did now,
when she saw the elegant trousseau which Mr. Graham ordered for his
daughter. But all such feelings must be concealed, and almost every day
she rode over to Woodlawn, admiring this, going into ecstasies over
that, and patronizingly giving her advice on all subjects, while all
the time her heart was swelling with bitter disappointment. Having
always felt so sure of securing Durward, she had invariably treated
other gentlemen with such cool indifference that she was a favorite
with but few, and as she considered these few her inferiors, she had
more than once feared lest John Jr.’s prediction concerning the
_lettering_ on her tombstone should prove true!
“Anything but that,” said she, dashing away her tears, as she thought
how ’Lena had supplanted her in the affections of the only person she
could ever love,
“Old Marster Atherton done want to see you in the parlor,” said
Corinda, putting her head in at the door.
Since his unfortunate affair with Anna, the captain had avoided Maple
Grove, but feeling lonely at Sunnyside, he had come over this morning
to call. Finding Mrs. Livingstone absent, he had asked for Carrie, who
was so unusually gracious that he wondered he had never before
discovered how greatly superior to her sister she was! All his favorite
pieces were sung to him, and then, with the patience of a martyr, the
young lady seated herself at the backgammon board, playing game after
game, until she could scarcely tell her men from his. On his way home
the captain fell into a curious train of reflections, while Carrie,
when asked by Corinda, if “old marster was done gone,” sharply
reprimanded the girl, telling her “it was very impolite to call anybody
_old_, particularly one so young as Captain Atherton!”
The next day the captain came again, and the next, and the next, until
at last his former intimacy at Maple Grove seemed to be re-established.
And all this time no one had an inkling of the true state of things,
not even John Jr., who never dreamed it possible for his haughty
sister, to grace Sunnyside as its mistress. “But stranger things than
that had happened and were happening every day,” Carrie reasoned, as
she sat alone in her room, revolving the propriety of answering “Yes”
to a note which the captain had that morning placed in her hand at
parting. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was very fair,
and as yet untouched by a single mark or line. She thought of him,
_bald_, _wrinkled_, _fat_ and _forty-six_!
“I’ll never do it,” she exclaimed. “Better live single all my days.”
At this moment, the carriage of Mrs. Graham drew up, and from it
alighted ’Lena, richly clad. The sight of her produced a reaction, and
Carrie thought again. Captain Atherton was generous to a fault. He was
able and willing to grant her slightest wish, and as his wife, she
could compete with, if not outdo, ’Lena in the splendor of her
surroundings. The pen was resumed, and Carrie wrote the words which
sealed her destiny for life. This done, nothing could move her, and
though her father entreated, her mother scolded, and John Jr. _swore_,
it made no difference. “She was old enough to choose for herself,” she
said, “and she had done so.”
When Mrs. Livingstone became convinced that her daughter was in
earnest, she gave up the contest, taking sides with her. Like Durward,
Captain Atherton was in a hurry, and it was decided that the wedding
should take place a week before the time appointed for that of her
cousin. Determining not to be outdone by Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Livingstone
launched forth on a large scale, and there commenced between the two
houses a species of rivalry extremely amusing to a looker on. Did Mrs.
Graham purchase for ’Lena a costly silk, Mrs. Livingstone forthwith
secured a piece of similar quality, but different pattern, for Carrie.
Did Mrs. Graham order forty dollars’ worth of confectionery, Mrs.
Livingstone immediately increased her order to fifty dollars. And when
it was known that Mrs. Graham had engaged a Louisville French cook at
two dollars per day, Mrs. Livingstone sent to Cincinnati, offering
three for one!
Carrie had decided upon a tour to Europe, and the captain had given his
consent, when it was reported that Durward and ’Lena were also
intending to sail for Liverpool. In this dilemma there was no
alternative save a trip to California or the Sandwich Islands! The
former was chosen, Captain Atherton offering to defray Mrs.
Livingstone’s expenses if she would accompany them. This plan Carrie
warmly seconded, for she knew her mother’s presence would greatly
relieve her from the society of her husband, which was _not_ as
agreeable to her as it ought to have been. But Mr. Livingstone refused
to let his wife go, unless Anna came home and stayed with him while she
was gone.
He accordingly wrote to Anna, inviting her and Malcolm to be present at
Carrie’s wedding, purposely omitting the name of the bridegroom; and
three days before the appointed time they came. It was dark when they
arrived, and as they were not expected that night, they entered the
house before any one was aware of their presence. John Jr. chanced to
be in the hall, and the moment he saw Anna, he caught her in his arms,
shouting so uproariously that his father and mother at once hastened to
the spot.
“Will you forgive me, father ?” Anna said, and Mr. Livingstone replied
by clasping her to his bosom, while he extended his hand to Malcolm.
“Where’s Carrie?” Anna said, and John Jr. replied, “In the parlor, with
her future spouse. Shall I introduce you?”
So saying, he dragged her into the parlor, where she then recoiled in
terror as she saw Captain Atherton.
“Oh, Carrie!” she exclaimed. “It cannot be——that I see you again!” she
added, as she met her sister’s warning look.
Another moment and they were in each other’s arms weeping bitterly, the
one that her sister should thus throw herself away, and the other,
because she was wretched. It was but for an instant, however, and then
Carrie was herself again. Playfully presenting Anna to the Captain, she
said, “Ain’t I good to take up with what you left!”
But no one smiled at this joke—the captain, least of all, and as Carrie
glanced from him to Malcolm, she felt that her sister had made a happy
choice. The next day ’Lena came, overjoyed to meet Anna, who more than
any one else, rejoiced in her good fortune.
“You deserve it all,” she said, when they were alone, “and if Carrie
had one tithe of your happiness in store I should be satisfied.”
But Carrie asked for no sympathy. “It was no one’s business whom she
married,” she said; and so one pleasant night in the early spring, they
decked her in her bridal robes, and then, white, cold, and feelingless
as a marble statue, she laid her hand in Captain Atherton’s, and took
upon her the vows which made her his forever. A few days after the
ceremony, Carrie began to urge their immediate departure for
California.
“There was no need of further delay,” she said. “No one cared to see
’Lena married. Weddings were stupid things, anyway, and her mother
could just as well go one time as another.”
At first Mrs. Livingstone hesitated, but when Carrie burst into a
passionate fit of weeping, declaring “she’d kill herself if she had to
stay much longer at Sunnyside and be petted by _that old fool_,” she
consented, and one week from the day of the marriage they started. In
Carrie’s eyes there was already a look of weary sadness, which said
that the bitter tears were constantly welling up, while on her brow a
shadow was resting, as if Sunnyside were a greater burden than she
could bear. Alas, for a union without love! It seldom fails to end in
misery, and thus poor Carrie found it. Her husband was proud of her,
and, had she permitted, would have loved her after his fashion, but his
affectionate advances were invariably repulsed, until at last he
treated her with a cold politeness, far more endurable than his fawning
attentions had been. She was welcome to go her own way, and he went
his, each having in San Francisco their own suite of rooms, and setting
up, as it were, a separate establishment. In this way they got on quite
comfortably for a few weeks, at the end of which time Carrie took it
into her capricious head to return to Maple Grove. She would never go
back to Sunnyside, she said. And without a word of opposition the
captain paid his bills, and started for Kentucky, where he left his
wife at Maple Grove, she giving as a reason that “ma could not spare
her yet.”
Far different from this were the future prospects of Durward and ’Lena,
who with perfect love in their hearts were married, a week after the
departure of Captain Atherton for California. Very proudly Durward
looked down upon her as he placed the first husband’s kiss on her brow,
and in the soft brown eyes, brimming with tears, which she raised to
his face, there was a world of tenderness, telling that theirs was a
union of hearts as well as hands.
The next night a small party assembled at the house of Mr. Douglass, in
Frankfort, where Nellie was transformed into Nellie Livingstone.
Perhaps it was the remembrance of the young girl to whom his vows had
once before been plighted, that made John Jr. appear for a time as if
he were in a dream. But the moment they rallied him upon the
strangeness of his manner, he brightened up, saying that he was trying
to get used to thinking that Nellie was really his. It had been decided
that he should accompany Durward and ’Lena to Europe, and a day or two
after his marriage he asked Mr. Everett to go too. Anna’s eyes fairly
danced with joy, as she awaited Malcolm’s reply. But much as he would
like to go, he could not afford it, and so he frankly said, kissing
away the big tear which rolled down Anna’s cheek.
With a smile John Jr. placed a sealed package in his sister’s hand,
saying to Malcolm, “I have anticipated this and provided for it. I
suppose you are aware that Mabel willed me all her property, which
contrary to our expectations, has proved to be considerable. I know I
do not deserve a cent of it, but as she had no nearer relative than Mr.
Douglass, I have concluded to use it for the comfort of his daughter
and for the good of others. I want you and Anna to join us, and I’ve
given her such a sum as will bear your expenses, and leave you more
than you can earn dickering at law for three or four years. So, puss,”
turning to Anna, “it’s all settled. Now hurrah for the sunny skies of
France and Italy, I’ve talked with father about it, and he’s willing to
stay alone for the sake of having you go. Oh, don’t thank me,” he
continued, as he saw them about to speak. “It’s poor little Meb to whom
you are indebted. She loved Anna, and would willingly have her money
used for this purpose.”
After a little reflection Malcolm concluded to accept John’s offer, and
a happier party never stepped on board a steamer than that which, on
the 15th of April, sailed for Europe, which they reached in safety,
being at the last accounts in Paris, where they were enjoying
themselves immensely.
A few words more, and our story is told. Just as Mr. Livingstone was
getting tolerably well suited with his bachelor life, he was one
morning surprised by the return of his wife and daughter, the latter of
whom, as we have before stated, took up her abode at Maple Grove.
Almost every day the old captain rides over to see her, but he
generally carries back a longer face than he brings. The bald spot on
his head is growing larger, and to her dismay Carrie has discovered a
“crow track” in the corner of her eye. Frequently, after a war of words
with her mother, she announces her intention of returning to Sunnyside,
but a sight of the captain is sufficient to banish all such thoughts.
And thus she lives, that most wretched of all beings, an unloving and
unloved wife.
During the absence of their children, Mr. and Mrs. Graham remain at
Woodlawn, which, as it is the property of Durward, will be his own and
’Lena’s home.
Jerry Langley has changed his occupation of driver for that of a
brakeman on the railroad between Canandaigua and Niagara Falls.
In conclusion we will say of our old friend, Uncle Timothy, that he
joined “the _Hindews_” as proposed, was nominated for constable, and,
sure of success, bought an old gig for the better transportation of
himself over the town. But alas for human hopes—if funded upon
politics—the whole American ticket was defeated at Laurel Hill, since
which time he has gone over to the Republicans, to whom he has sworn
eternal allegiance.
THE END