A HAPPY LOVER.
The lover is a king; the ground
He treads on is not ours;
His soul by other laws is bound,
Sustained by other powers.
Liver of a diviner life,
He turns a vacant gaze
Toward the theater of strife,
Where we consume our days.
--R. M. MILNES.
On that Monday morning Alden Lytton left Blue Cliff Hall with his heart
full of joy and thankfulness.
He was the accepted lover of Emma Cavendish. And he was so somewhat to
his own amazement, for he had not intended to propose to her so soon.
She was a very wealthy heiress, and he was a poor young lawyer, just
about to begin the battle of life.
They were both still very young and could afford to wait a few years.
And, ardently as he loved her, he wished to see his way clearly to fame
and fortune by his profession before presuming to ask the beautiful
heiress to share his life.
But the impulse of an ardent passion may, in some unguarded hour,
overturn the firmest resolution of wisdom.
This was so in the case of Alden Lytton.
Up to Saturday, the last day but one of his stay at Blue Cliff Hall, the
lovers were not engaged.
Rumor, in proclaiming their engagement, had been, as she often is,
beforehand with the facts.
But on that Saturday evening, after tea, Alden Lytton found himself
walking with Emma Cavendish up and down the long front piazza.
It was a lovely summer night. There was no moon, but the innumerable
stars were shining with intense brilliancy from the clear blue-black
night sky; the earth sent up an aroma from countless fragrant flowers
and spicy shrubs; the dew lay fresh upon all; and the chirp of myriads
of little insects of the night almost rivaled the songs of birds during
the day. And so the night was filled with the sparkling light of stars,
the fresh coolness of dew, the rich perfume of vegetation and the low
music of insect life.
The near mountains, like walls of Eden, shut in the beautiful scene.
Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish sauntered slowly up and down the long
piazza feeling the divine influence of the hour and scene, without
thinking much about either.
Indeed, they thought only of each other.
They were conscious that this was to be their last walk together for
many months, perhaps for years.
Something to this effect Alden murmured.
He received no reply, but he felt a tear drop upon his hand.
Then he lost his self-control. The strong love swelling in his soul
burst forth into utterance, and with impassioned tones and eloquent,
though broken words, he told her of his most presuming and almost
hopeless love.
And then he waited, trembling, for the rejection and rebuke that his
modesty made him more than half expect.
But no such rebuff came from Emma Cavendish.
She paused in her walk, raised her beautiful eyes to his face and placed
both her hands in his.
And in this manner she silently accepted him.
How fervently he thanked and blessed her!
Emma Cavendish had always been a dutiful daughter to the doting old lady
in the "throne room;" so that night, before she slept, she went in and
told her grandmother of her engagement to Alden Lytton.
Now, by all the rules of wrong, Madam Cavendish should have resolutely
set her face against the betrothal of her wealthy granddaughter to a
young lawyer with no fortune of his own and with his way yet to make in
the world.
And if the old lady had been somewhat younger she would probably have
done this very thing.
But as it was, she was "old and childish;" which means that she was more
heavenly-minded and nearer heaven than she ever had been since the days
of her own infancy and innocence.
So, instead of fixing a pair of terrible spectacled eyes upon the young
girl and reading her a severe lecture upon "the eternal fitness of
things," as illustrated in wealth mating with wealth and rank with rank,
she looked lovingly upon her granddaughter, held out her venerable hand,
and drew her up to her bosom, kissed her tenderly, and said:
"Heaven bless you, my own darling! This has come rather suddenly upon
me; but since, in the course of nature, you must some time marry, I do
not know a young gentleman in this world to whom I would as soon see you
married as to Mr. Alden Lytton. But, my child, I do not think you ought
to be married very soon," she added.
"No, dear grandma, I know that," said Emma, kneeling down by her side
and tenderly caressing and kissing her withered hands. "No, dear
grandma, I will never leave you--never for any one--not even for him!"
"My darling child, you mistake my meaning. It is not for the selfish
purpose of keeping you here near me that I advise you to defer your
marriage for a time. It is because I think it is decorous that some
months should elapse between the betrothal of a young pair and their
wedding. Though, of course, there are some cases in which a short
engagement and a speedy marriage become expedient or even necessary. As,
for instance, my child, if I felt myself near death now I should
certainly wish to hasten your marriage, rather than leave you
unprotected in this world."
Emma Cavendish could only kiss her grandmother's hands and thank her
through falling tears.
"And now; my child, I must go to sleep. I always want to go to sleep
after anything exciting has happened to me. Good-night, and may Heaven
bless you, my love!" said the old lady, affectionately, as she dismissed
her granddaughter.
While Emma Cavendish was talking with her grandmother, Alden Lytton went
into the parlor, where he found his sister alone, sitting by one of the
windows, gazing thoughtfully out upon the beautiful night.
He drew a chair to her side, seated himself and, with his arm around her
waist, told her of his new-born happiness.
She congratulated him fervently and earnestly; and then, returning
confidence for confidence, told him of her engagement to the young
minister of Wendover.
For rumor, in Mr. Lyle's and Miss Lytton's case also, had anticipated
the facts, and had reported their betrothal all over the country long
before it was announced to their nearest friends.
Alden Lytton, with all his approving heart, wished his sister joy in her
prospective union with the worthy young clergyman.
And then the two, talking together over their future, decided that they
must write at once to their Uncle John Lytton and inform him of their
engagements.
Alden undertook to write a letter on the part of both his sister and
himself that night.
And, on further discussion, it was decided that at the close of her
visit to Blue Cliff Hall, Laura should go to Lytton Lodge to make a
visit to her relatives there.
The entrance of Emma Cavendish put an end to the discussion, and was the
occasion of new congratulations.
The next morning Madam Cavendish sent for Alden Lytton and Emma
Cavendish to come up to her room together.
And she then and there read them a grave and affectionate little lecture
upon the duties and responsibilities of an engaged couple, gave them her
blessing and dismissed them to go to church.
That Sunday morning every one at Blue Cliffs knew of the betrothal of
Mr. Lytton to the young mistress of the Hall.
And on Monday morning all the county knew it just as well as they had
known it a month before it happened.
And every one said over once more what they had already said so
often--that it was a great pity the daughter of the late Governor
Cavendish should be allowed to throw herself and her wealth away upon a
penniless young fortune-hunter like Alden Lytton, and all for the want
of a proper guardian at hand to restrain her. Old Madam Cavendish, they
said, was no better than none at all. And really the Orphans' Court
ought to interfere, etc.
But the very bitterest of the malcontents were parents with marriageable
sons of their own, any one of which might one day have aspired to the
hand of the heiress.
Little cared the happy lovers what their neighbors might think about
their betrothal.
They parted that morning, not with tears, but with bright smiles and
promises of frequent correspondence.
Alden Lytton stopped in Wendover to take leave of his friend, Mr. Lyle,
and to announce the betrothal of Miss Cavendish and himself.
And then, scarcely waiting to receive the congratulations of the
minister, he hurried off to catch his train for Richmond.
An hour after this Mr. Lyle had an interview with Victor Hartman, and
delighted that poor fellow's soul with the announcement of the
betrothal.
And on the same day Mr. Lyle, commissioned by Victor Hartman, went to
Blue Cliff Hall and requested an interview with Madam Cavendish.
The old lady, thinking this was the usual pastoral call from the
minister, sent word for him to come up to her room.
And there she received him alone, and after the usual greetings opened
the conversation herself by informing him of the betrothal of her
granddaughter to Mr. Alden Lytton.
"It was upon that very subject that I came to see you, madam, on the
part of the young gentleman's guardian," replied the minister, and then
and there announced the fact that Mr. Alden Lytton's "guardian" would be
prepared to pay down to his ward one hundred thousand dollars on the day
of his marriage with Miss Cavendish.
"Emma has money enough," said the old lady; "but that indeed is very
liberal. I never could understand about that secret guardian, friend,
patron, or whatever you might call him, of the young Lyttons," she
added, as if she would have liked some information on the subject.
"No, madam, and I am sorry that I am not yet at liberty to tell you more
about him. This, however, I may say, that he is able and willing to keep
his word."
And so that interview ended.