DEPARTURES.
“We foresee and could foretel
Thy future fortune sure and well;
But those passionate eyes speak true, speak true,
And let them say what thou shalt do!”—_Browning._
With Miss Vivian’s uncle the difficulty was even less in obtaining his
consent to the marriage with Mark Sutherland; and for the following
reasons:—Colonel Ashley worshipped his proud, talented son, St. Gerald;
and in his estimation no interests could compete for an instant with St.
Gerald’s interests. Colonel Ashley liked Rosalie well enough, and wished
her well enough, and he was resolved to do all he could to insure her
future happiness; yet if a slight risk of her welfare would insure the
domestic peace and content of St. Gerald, Colonel Ashley was not one to
hesitate between the conflicting interests of his niece and son. And
that the marriage and departure of Mark Sutherland and Rosalie would
tend greatly to tranquillise the life of the already disturbed husband,
he could not _now_ doubt.
It was dreadful to notice all the fatal effects of India’s want of
faith—it was awful to anticipate the final result. The once haughty and
self-possessed woman was growing spiritless and nervous, subject to
extremes of excitement and depression, moody, irritable, and flighty to
the last degree. Her glorious beauty was _withering_, _wilting_, as you
have seen some richly-blooming flower wither suddenly without apparent
cause—wither as if scorched by the burning breath of the sirocco. And
the cause was apparent to every one around her, not excepting her
bitterly-wronged and most wretched husband—to every one around her but
Rosalie, whose perfect truth and innocence of heart shielded her from
the suspicion of so much evil. If it was fearful to see the ravages that
misery had made in the glorious beauty of India, it was not less so to
observe its desolating effect upon the splendid genius of St. Gerald.
It was now a stirring time with aspiring young statesmen. A great
national crisis was at hand; and it behooved all prominent politicians
to be up and doing. St. Gerald, of all statesmen, should have been the
most active, the most energetic. The eyes of his party were turned in
anxiety towards him—the eyes of old grey heads, exhausted by a long
life’s service, and reposing on their well-earned laurels, and the eyes
of young aspirants, panting to succeed to them, were all fixed upon St.
Gerald, as their hope, their leader, and their deliverer! A senator
already, he is carried up on the tenth wave of popular favour! Should he
serve them well in this crisis, as he surely _can_ if he _will_, for his
talent, his eloquence, his influence is mighty among the nations; should
he serve them well this time, there is no honour, no, not the highest in
the gift of the people, to which he may not reasonably aspire! St.
Gerald should be busy now—riding from town to town, from county to
county, from State to State—convening the people, organising meetings,
making speeches, drawing up resolutions, and doing all those
multifarious acts by which statesmen in the recess of Congress touch the
secret springs of the great political machinery, to keep it in motion,
or haply to stop it altogether. St. Gerald should be up and doing, for
now is the “tide” in his affairs, which “taken at the flood” may bear
him on to fortune—aye, ultimately to the Presidential chair. St. Gerald
should be active, stirring—for every day is destiny! But the young
statesman is doing absolutely nothing. He is withering in inaction,
because his bride is withering from his side.
Colonel Ashley perceives it all. And can he see the brilliant fortunes
of his proud boy thus wrecked, if the sacrifice of Rosalie will help to
avert the ruin? No, Rosalie! Only give yourself to Mark Sutherland, and
coax him away to “parts unknown,” to that “borne whence no traveller
returneth,” if possible, and your uncle will smooth your path—he will
try to persuade Clement Sutherland to forego his wrath and hate, and
yield you up your own fortune—he will give you his blessing, and as much
assistance of every kind as your independent spirit will permit you to
accept.
Colonel Ashley, in fact, gave his full consent and approbation to the
engagement of Mark Sutherland and Rosalie Vivian. He even joined Mr.
Sutherland in persuading Rosalie to fix an early day for the
solemnization of the marriage.
And, having settled that matter to his satisfaction, he next sought his
friend, Clement Sutherland, and, having informed him of the betrothal,
entreated him to make some provision from the bride’s fortune for the
young couple, or at least to settle an annuity upon _her_ until she
should be of age, and enter upon the possession of her property.
But Clement Sutherland was proof against all arguments and entreaties.
He locked his grim jaws fast, and would yield not a cent or a kind word.
At last Colonel Ashley left him in indignation and despair. He did not
_then_ know that hate and revenge were not the only reasons that
constrained the guardian of Mark Sutherland’s young bride to hold a
death-grip upon her purse-strings. No one _then_ suspected that the
money-grasping passion of the man had tempted him into ruinous
speculations and embezzlement of the orphan’s funds. “Sufficient unto
the day is the evil thereof;” therefore, let them not dream it yet!
A week after this betrothal, Mr. Lauderdale arrived, to fulfil his
engagement with the “sparkling” young widow. He was received with the
utmost pleasure by his old friends and acquaintances, and welcomed with
cordial hospitality by Colonel Ashley.
The next week witnessed two bridals. Mr. Lauderdale and Mrs. Vivian were
married at Ashley Hall, by the pastor of the parish; and at the same
time and place, by the same minister, Mark Sutherland and Rosalie Vivian
were united in that bond that only death can sever.
The next day there were two departures: Mr. and Mrs. Lauderdale bade an
affectionate adieu to their friends, and set out for their palace home
in the South; and Mark Sutherland, and Rosalie, his wife, departed for
their log cabin in the West.