BREEDS TROUBLE FOR AFTER YEARS.
When Lemuel Dalton rode into his yard fresh from his encounter with Harry
Dalton, Aunt Catherine and Morlene were in a wagon ready to be driven to
the city, where it was their purpose to dwell.
Lemuel Dalton noticed the look of inquiry which his battered appearance
evoked from Morlene's expressive eyes, and, as if to prevent her from
thinking that he had been worsted and that her prophecy was already coming
true, said in a haughty tone: "I do not know how much interest a knowledge
of the fact may be to you, yet, I inform you that I have just shot down
that impudent Negro, Harry Dalton."
Morlene was of a deeply sympathetic mould, and, upon receiving this
information, tears came into her eyes. Alighting from the wagon, she said:
"Go! Go! Aunt Catherine, from this accursed place. I will come to the city
soon. It may be that Harry is not killed. If I can save his life I can ward
off that much of the terrible debt that this man is piling up against
himself." Gathering her skirts about her, weeping as she ran, she arrived
at Stephen Dalton's house and assumed charge of the nursing of Harry.
Harry's wound was an exceedingly dangerous one, but the doctor's skill,
supplemented by Morlene's zealous care, eventually brought him to a stage
of convalescence. But Morlene's tenderness of heart had brought her into a
situation where unforeseen complications arose to sorely disturb her peace
of mind.
So, soon as Harry became conscious of Morlene's presence in his home as his
nurse, he began to look upon his being shot as an especially kind act on
the part of providence. From early childhood he had been an ardent admirer
of Morlene, but her stay at the Dalton house under the guardianship of
Maurice Dalton, had caused him to feel that there was an impassable gulf
between them. He had never been able to summon sufficient courage to go up
to the "big house" with the intention of paying his respects to Morlene. He
now entertained not one spark of ill will toward Lemuel Dalton for shooting
him, since it was the means of drawing Morlene to his side. The scrupulous
care and great tenderness exercised by her in the nursing of Harry, were
construed by him to be indications of a strong attachment, and his hopes of
a favorable outcome of his suit grew greater from day to day, until he at
last regarded his acceptance as an assured fact.
One day, after he was able to sit up, he beckoned for Morlene to come to
his side, intending to make a declaration of love. Morlene came and looked
into Harry's face tenderly, awaiting his request, which she presumed would
be upon some matter in line with her duties as a nurse. When Harry looked
up into her face, so tenderly beautiful, his heart failed him. "Too
beautiful for a fellow like me," he thought. "I have changed my mind, Miss
Dalton," said Harry, abandoning his purpose for the time being.
Morlene looked at Harry out of those wondrous eyes of hers, playfully
feigning reproach, shaking her forefinger at him the while, in no wise
dreaming of the emotions at work in Harry's bosom.
The day at last came when Harry found himself possessing sufficient courage
to make a declaration of love. It was indeed a rude awakening for Morlene
when she realized in what manner she had been the object of Harry's
thoughts, a contingency upon which she had in no wise calculated. When her
emotion of surprise had sufficiently abated to permit it, she told Harry in
a very pleasant manner that he was sick and should wait until he was well
before giving attention to so grave a question as marriage.
Harry had discerned how his proposal had surprised Morlene, and he now knew
that she had not given him one thought as a possible husband. He saw
clearly that Morlene's many acts of kindness to him were based purely on
sympathy, not love. This so discouraged Harry that it was not many days
before he began to grow worse. His decline was so persistent, refusing to
yield to any treatment, that the doctor was sorely puzzled as to the cause
of the relapse and the treatment necessary to effect a change.
Harry's illness now reached such a stage that all began to despair of his
life. Beulah kept constant watch at his bedside, noting his every
expression. She noticed how Harry's eyes followed wherever Morlene moved
about in the room; how that he was restless when she was out of sight and
contented when she was near. And in all this devotion exhibited by Harry
she intuitively felt the presence of hopelessness. She framed the theory in
her mind that the mysterious cause of Harry's decline was none other than
an unrequited love for Morlene.
The doctor came, felt Harry's pulse, shook his head, and left the room.
Beulah also went out and revealed to him her thoughts.
"By Jove!" said he, "Why did I not think of that myself? The girl is as
beautiful as a sylph. She can save him, I am sure. That boy's relapse can
be explained on no other hypothesis. See what you can do with the girl. It
is the only hope left." So saying, the doctor went his way.
Beulah now re-entered the house and asked Morlene to take a walk with her.
Arm in arm the two girls went down the little pathway leading from the
house. Coming opposite to a grove of trees they turned toward it, entered,
and sat down upon a fallen log.
"Morlene, are you in love with any one?" asked Beulah.
"No, my dear. Why do you ask?" replied Morlene.
"I have a request to make of you, which I can the more freely do since you
say that you are not in love."
Morlene's face took on a puzzled expression.
"What possible relation does my not being in love bear to any request that
you might make?" inquired Morlene.
"The doctor has told me that the only hope of saving Harry's life lies in
your consenting to marry him. He is dying of love for you," said Beulah.
Morlene stood up affrighted.
Beulah continued: "Harry looks at you so sad-like. A word from you,
Morlene, will save him."
Morlene sat down and raised a hand to her forehead. "Beulah," said she, "I
fear that there is something in what you say. I now recall that his decline
in health began about the time when I refused to consider a proposal of
marriage which he made. But Beulah, I do not _love_ Harry. I think well of
him, but I do not love him."
"You could learn to love him," said Beulah.
"No, I am quite sure, Beulah, that I could never love a man on Harry's
order. Something within tells me that somewhere in the world there is an
ideal man that awaits my coming. He shall awaken all the slumbering fires
of my soul and my life shall entwine itself about his. Beulah, I believe
all this with my whole heart."
Morlene spoke in tones quavering with emotion, her beautiful face showing
signs of tragic earnestness and her eyes assuming a far-off expression as
if the soul was seeking to divine the future.
"Morlene, you and I are poor country girls and can talk plainly to each
other. You have been reading books up at the Dalton house which set forth
the deeds of mighty men. Out of all that you have gleaned from books you
have constructed your ideal man whom you feel awaits you in the world.
Morlene, we country girls have only a limited education and know but little
of the requirements of the higher walks of life. The man whom your
imagination has selected will be so much your superior in point of culture
that he will not notice you."
This was a well directed shaft and Morlene's body twitched as if it had
been entered by some deadly missile; for it had been the one dread of her
life that the man whom she could love would consider her mind too poorly
trained to become his companion. Morlene buried her face in her hands.
Beulah followed up the advantage which she saw that she had gained, saying:
"Morlene, your own judgment must teach you that your ideal is impossible of
attainment. Put over against this impracticable ideal my honest,
industrious, wounded brother, who is being destroyed by his love for you.
Do not, Morlene, allow poor Harry to die because of a vague hope."
A pet squirrel which had been tamed by Harry, and which was very fond of
him, was jumping from limb to limb in a neighboring tree. Spying Morlene
and Beulah, it began to descend, making looks of inquiry at various stages
of its journey. Upon reaching the ground, it began to hop in the direction
of the two girls, halting now and then to turn its little head first one
way and then another, always keeping one or the other of his brown eyes
looking in their direction. When only a few feet from them, it reared upon
its hind feet and looked intently at them. They were evidently too sad in
appearance, for it immediately scampered away to resume its sport.
"Even the squirrel has come to plead for Harry, Morlene," said Beulah.
Morlene's answer was a deep sigh.
"Beulah," said Morlene, taking her hands from her face, "you hardly know
what you ask. This love which God has planted in a woman's bosom is the
source of the highest joy that she knows during her stay on earth. You are
asking me to surrender the most precious gift of my Creator, my one chance
of supreme happiness."
Beulah now burst into crying, calling into play woman's most formidable
weapons--her tears.
"All right, Morlene. Poor Harry will be dead to-morrow, and I shall soon
die of grief. You know how my dear father loves us. Our deaths will break
his heart. When we are dead, Morlene, remember that the surrender of an
idle hope on your part would have saved us all."
Beulah, weeping bitterly, now arose to go. Morlene's sympathetic nature
could not longer resist the strain.
"Beulah, Beulah, it is hard to do as you ask. How hard, the future alone
can tell. I consent to sacrifice myself. I don't understand this world,
anyway! Why am I placed in such a trying situation? I will marry Harry!"
It was now Morlene's time to cry. She wept bitterly, her gentle spirit
chiding the cruel fate that had woven such a web about her feet.
Parentless, homeless, friendless, now doomed to a loveless marriage, she
considered her lot an inexpressibly hard one.
The two girls wept together, Beulah now weeping over the necessity of
imposing such a marriage on Morlene. Having as Harry's sister persuaded
Morlene into agreeing to the marriage, she now as a woman wept in sympathy
with Morlene over a prospective wedlock without love. When the two had
regained self-control, they returned to the house. Morlene went to Harry's
bedside and knelt there. She took his enfeebled arm and laid it across her
shoulder, smiling at him sweetly the while.
"Harry," said she, "I have come to tell you that I am going to be your
wife, a true wife--one that will do all that is in her power for your
comfort and welfare."
So saying she leaned forward and sealed her doom with a kiss.
Beulah, eager to insure Harry's recovery, and fearing that Morlene, after a
period of reflection, might deny the binding force of a vow extorted from
her in the dread presence of death, hastened matters. The next day Harry
and Morlene were duly pronounced man and wife.
When a woman's hand is chained and her heart is free!