THE CONFESSION.
“She’ll go with him, in all his weal and woe;
She’ll be with him in sunshine and in storm;
In his afflictions, should they fall on him;
In his temptations, when bad men beset him;
In all the perils which may press around him;
And, should they crush him, in the hour of death.”
_Taylor—“Philip Van Artevelde.”_
“Come here, Rosalie; I want to have a very serious talk with you, my
child,” said Colonel Ashley, rising to meet his niece, as she entered,
and leading her to a seat. “Now, my dear, I am very sorry for something
that I have just heard. Nay, now, be calm, my dear—I am not going to
scold. If I indulge in any sort of reproach, it must be in self-reproach
for my own reprehensible carelessness. And so, my child, you are engaged
to be married!”
Rosalie’s face crimsoned, and her eyes fell to the ground.
“And what good, Rosalie, do you think will ever come of this imprudent
step?”
The blush deepened on her cheek, but she did not reply.
“And what am I to think of this penniless young man, who uses his
position in my family to wile the affections of my niece—an heiress?
Would it not be a fair and rational conclusion to set him down as an
unprincipled fortune-hunter?”
Rosalie started. Her eyes flashed, her lips quivered. She exclaimed—
“Uncle, you do not believe that—you do not!”
“Would it not be fair to believe it?”
“Uncle, you are a noble-hearted being—you always recognise true nobility
in others. Uncle, be just to Mr. Sutherland—nay, be just to
yourself—unsay your words.”
“Why, Rosalie, ninety-nine out of a hundred would call your lover a
fortune-hunter.”
“Oh, sir, they could not—they could not! knowing that Mr. Sutherland
voluntarily renounced a large fortune for an idea of duty.”
“At any rate, Rosalie, here are the naked facts: Mark Sutherland, being
quite penniless, and well knowing that he has no way on earth of
supporting a wife, makes the best use of his opportunities to woo and
win an heiress!”
Rosalie dropped her face into her hands; her bosom heaved convulsively,
as with some inward struggle, for an instant, and then lifting a
countenance blushing and tearful, yet gently resolute, she said, in a
faltering voice:
“I must make a confession, even if it cover me with humiliation. I must
clear Mr. Sutherland, and take the blame where it truly belongs—upon my
own head. Uncle, it was _my fault_—_my own_—_mine solely_.”
She paused, for her girl’s nature would not bear the look the old man
fixed upon her. She averted her face, and with deeply flushed cheek and
low, tremulous voice, resumed:
“I loved him, uncle. It was impossible, adoring moral heroism as I did,
_not_ to love him. God and angels know it, and you must know it, too”——
Again she paused for an answer, but Colonel Ashley did not reply, and
she asked—
“Uncle! you exonerate Mr. Sutherland now, do you not?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Colonel Ashley, speaking as if waking up out of a
reverie. “I exonerated him at first; I only wanted to see, Rosalie,
whether you would have the honour and generosity to admit what you have.
Good heaven! It seems to me fully one half the love originates with the
girls, although they have too much tact to let us know it! Now, there
was your aunt: I was two years courting her. In truth, I thought I had a
terrible time to win her heart; but listen, now. Some time after we had
been married, she told me how many months she had been ‘setting her cap’
at me before I ever thought of her; and yet you see after she had once
gained her point, and brought me to her feet, she kept me on the
tenterhooks of suspense for two years!”
“May I go now? Are you done with me, uncle?”
“No, my dear, I have not begun with you yet! I must give you a lecture!
Don’t you know it was a very unmaidenly thing of you to ‘set your cap’
at Mr. Sutherland?”
“Uncle, Mr. Sutherland evidently does not pronounce such a judgment, and
therefore it is not so.”
“No, poor fellow! because he doesn’t know you _did_ it. _He’s_ under the
illusion that he did all the lovemaking himself. That’s natural. But
now, then, Rosalie, how do you expect to get along in this world if you
and Mark are married? You may know that _he_ has no way of supporting
you, and your guardian would see you both in the bottomless pit before
_he’d_ advance a cent of your fortune. Come, stop blushing and
trembling, and answer me, my dear. I like people to be practical. What
do you expect to do?”
“I do not know, uncle; I wish to leave it all to Mr. Sutherland. I have
so much confidence in his judgment and in his regard for me, that I feel
perfectly sure he will never draw me into any evil or suffering.”
“Always faith in Mark! Suppose he should be going away in a few days,
and suppose he should wish to marry and take you with him?”
“In that case, I should wish to go, dear uncle. Have you done with me
now, sir?” asked Rosalie, really distressed by the length and closeness
of the examination to which she had been subjected.
“Yes, you may go!” answered the old gentleman, rising, and holding the
door open for her to pass. And Rosalie left the study.
In the lower hall she saw Mark Sutherland. He came to meet her, drew her
arm within his own, and then they both walked into the garden.
“Well, dear Rosalie, do you know that I shall probably leave here in the
course of a week?”
“My uncle has just hinted it to me. Where do you go?”
“Back to the village of S——, to take possession of an established office
about to be vacated by my friend Lauderdale, who is coming on here, upon
an errand of which you are already apprised, my dear Rosalie.”
“Yes, I know mamma and Mr. Lauderdale will be united next month.”
“Well, dear Rosalie?”
“Well?”
“I am going away in a week—must we then part?”
“Not unless you wish to go and leave me behind, Mark.”
“Wish to leave you behind! In leaving you I should turn my back upon my
guiding star, my inspiration, my life!”
“Then I accompany you, Mark.”
“Your friends, Rose, will they not raise serious opposition?”
“No! I have neither father nor mother, and there are no other friends
who have any wish to rule me, or any interest in doing so. My young
step-mother is going to break the conventional tie between herself and
me by marrying a second time; and with her _own_ heart under the gentle
influence of happiness, she will not be disposed to wring mine. As for
my uncle, his son has brought a wife home now, who will be the mistress
of his house, and he no longer requires my presence in that capacity.
Indeed, I might even be considered in the way. And neither am I disposed
to take a second place in a household of which I have hitherto been at
the head. And that reminds me that I am at the head of it _still_, and
that the duties of the position press upon me every hour—even now,” said
Rosalie, moving to go.
He caught her hand to detain her.
“Stay—do not leave me just yet. And so, my dearest Rosalie, when I go
forth you will accompany me?”
“I have said that if you wish it—yes, I will accompany you.”
“God bless you, dearest Rose!” burst from his lips with impassioned
fervour. “But, my dear girl—my fairy, fragile girl—do you know what
women in the far West have to encounter? hardships from which the most
robust shrink; hardships from which the strong and beautiful India
shrank; and will my pale, frail Rosalie dare them? and can she bear
them?”
“India, with her glorious physique, is still a delicate daughter of the
sun; she is like a gorgeous, brilliant exotic, that can bloom only in a
luxurious conservatory; while I, with my wan face and fragile form, am
yet a child of the wind—a wood-anemone, that only withered in a Southern
hothouse—that will flourish and thrive in the wilderness.”
“Heaven grant it may be as you say, dear Rosalie! It is impossible for
me to give you up, to leave you; yet when I think of all you may have to
suffer in being my companion, my heart is filled with anxiety and
trouble. What did you say, dearest? Your sweetest words hide under low
tones, just as the sweetest violets lurk under thick shade. What were
you murmuring?”
“Only that I should not suffer half as much in meeting anything _with
you_, as I should—as I should”—
“Well, dearest?”
“_In being left behind_,” said Rosalie, dropping her head upon his
shoulder, as he caught her to his heart, and exclaimed, in a sudden
burst of emotion—
“You shall _not_ be left behind, my darling! my darling! By all my hopes
of earth and heaven, I will never, never part from you!”
For a moment her head had rested on his breast in peace, and then she
began to grow restless and twisted herself out of his embrace.
“Where now?” he asked, rather impatiently.
She looked at him with a comic expression of countenance, and said:
“It is a mortifying necessity to confess, but the truth is, the _ham_
has to be taken out of soak and put on to boil for dinner, and I have
got to see it done; also there are gooseberry tarts and lemon custard to
be prepared for the dessert, and I have got to go and do it. I wonder if
uncle and cousin St. Gerald, who both love their palates, (low be it
spoken,) will ever get anything fit to eat when the gorgeous Mrs. India
takes my place!” and so, laughing and escaping, she ran off.