THE SEPARATION.
I MUST pass rapidly over the succeeding months. The first of October
found Gertrude in her old home renewing her acquaintance with every
nook and corner of the farm, caressing the old house dog, coaxing the
draught horse to let her mount for a ride, and winning anew the hearts
of the neighbors by her evident sympathy with all that concerned them.
Bridget was there too, having accompanied her master and mistress to
New York at Edward's special request. He could see that Hannah's lame
ancle made it painful for her to be on her feet from morning till
night, as had been her custom; though she would acknowledge nothing
of the kind, the young lawyer was sure Bridget's faithful service
would turn to good account on the farm, when once initiated into the
mysteries of butter and cheese making, raising Jersey calves and rare
kinds of fowls.
Paul sailed from New York the last week in September, remaining in the
city only three days. He was astonished to find that his brother-in-law
had gathered a lucrative practice; for the gentleman had been very
reticent concerning his own affairs, and was surprised into the remark:
"I've been thinking for some time that I made a mistake in going to
Chicago; and perhaps if I don't succeed in making a good thing of this
patent business I shall never go back."
It only needed this, to confirm Edward in his opinion of Paul. He was
wanting in perseverance. "'Unstable as water thou shalt not excel,'"
his father had frequently quoted to him, when he wished to leave
college to go into mercantile business, or any where that he saw a
prospect of rapidly accumulating a fortune.
During his visits to Chicago, Mr. Wallingford had learned that his
brother-in-law was not considered as established in that city;—that
he talked openly of going to Rochester or some place farther East. He
bid Paul adieu at the wharf with a belief that it was the lawyer's
intention to abandon his wife for some years.
In January Gertrude went to New York city, where her brother had
engaged board for her and Marion who had promised to pass the rest
of the winter with her friend. Here the best teachers were provided
for the ardent scholar; who was bent on improving every hour of her
husband's absence in fitting herself to ensure his respect. Constant
employment was necessary to her happiness, else memory carried her back
to the parting with Paul, so cool and careless on his part;—while she
wept and clung to him as if she were never to see him again.
Once a month he had promised she should have a letter from him
informing her where to direct to him.
For three months he kept his word. His letters were short, and one was
addressed to Edward, requesting him to forward some documents necessary
to his success; but they were more kind than his wife had looked for,
and her spirits rose accordingly. She gained both strength and color in
these quiet days; reminding Marion when she came on, of the bride when
she first saw her.
In the third letter Paul told her to direct next to Paris, where he
should remain till the first of the year; after that he should be
travelling, and she must not be worried if she heard nothing for some
months. He omitted in his haste to mention that Mr. Curtis and himself
had joined a party of Americans and were intending to travel with them
for the rest of the winter; and that Mr. Jackson, (who with his wife,
and a younger sister were members of the party) having turned out a
mere fortune hunter, found it very convenient to have some one to play
the agreeable to his wife; and relieve him from a duty already become
irksome.
This was the last they heard of the travellers for many months; and
knew not therefore where to direct letters.
In May there was news for him; for on the first of the month when the
fields were expected to be green, and the flowers in profusion, all of
which the lateness of the season prevented, a second little blossom
came to gladden Gertrude's anxious heart.
This was a boy, strong and resolute, who bid fair to fight his way in
the world. Without a moment's hesitation his mother called him Paul,
thereby proving, that however her husband regarded her, the affection
she had professed for him remained in all its force.
Bridget's faculties were now brought into full play. She lived but for
her darling; and proved herself so faithful a nurse that Gertrude still
found many hours every day which she could devote to her books. She
was now wanting six months of being nineteen, an age when many young
ladies are leaving school, fancying their education complete; but when
Gertrude was just awaking to the delight of gaining knowledge. Her
thirst for it seemed almost unquenchable. She applied her acquisitions
to a practical use, keeping all the farm, as well as the family
accounts; and greatly amusing Marion, who had staid on from time to
time, because her friend would not part from her, by sending for a
book and studying the diseases of cattle; and finding cures for their
various ills.
If Gertrude could have been relieved of anxiety concerning her husband,
she would now have been perfectly happy. She was not only a pet but a
companion to her brother, who confided to her his most important cases;
and told her the course of argument he intended to pursue.
For his sake she interested herself in polities; and often surprised
him and Marion by her shrewd remarks.
July was ushered in by a terrific thunder storm. Marion had insisted
that she must leave directly after the fourth; and they were all
congratulating her that she was not already in the cars. Edward who
came up every night did not appear till an hour later than usual; and
then looked so very stern and forbidding that Gertrude gazed at him in
wonder, and profound astonishment.
By this time Marion seemed indeed like a sister, and was treated, both
by Mr. Wallingford and Mrs. Dudley, with the frankness due to that
relation. Gertrude was not at all surprised, therefore, to hear her
brother ask the young girl to walk with him on the piazza.
She went to her room to undress little Paul, a delightful task, never
delegated to another. On this occasion she lingered longer than usual,
for the wide awake child was not readily soothed to sleep. At last
dropping the lace netting around his crib, she descended the stairs
leaving Bridget, with her sewing, within hearing.
Edward and Marion were sitting on the piazza; and she was about to join
them, when she heard an exclamation:
"Disgraceful! He is a villain! I am surprised though I always
distrusted him! And so lovely as she is; worthy the affection of a
noble heart?"
Gertrude paused trembling from head to foot. Could it be Paul, her
husband, of whom her dear friend was saying such hard things. Then he
was alive; and one great throb of joy quickened her whole being; but
presently came a resolve to hear the worst and stepping quickly forward
she said:
"What is it, Edward? What bad news have you heard. If it concerns me, I
can bear almost any thing better than to be kept in suspense."
"Come with me," said her brother, leading her into the parlor, when he
shut the door.
"I have seen a gentleman to-day," he began, leading her to a seat, "who
is acquainted with Paul. He parted from him the first of June. Your
husband was aware he was coming direct to New York; and yet he sent no
message."
He waited to see how she bore this; but as her countenance remained
unchanged and she sat as erect as ever, he went on:
"Gertrude, darling sister, your affections were misplaced. Paul Dudley
is unworthy of your love. You must forget him."
She found her voice now. Her eyes sparkled with indignation.
"Edward Wallingford," she began, "is it you who counsel me to break my
vows; who tells a wife to forget the husband of her choice, the father
of her babes? I cannot believe you are in earnest in what you say. I
married too young, brother. I have always regretted that I did not
listen to your advice, and wait till I had completed my education; but
I never regretted that I chose Paul Dudley. I don't pretend that he has
no faults. None of us are perfect; but whoever says I ought not to love
and respect him, gives me wrong counsel and I reject it."
She drew up her form to its full height, her nostrils dilating; and her
whole face expressing derision. The gazer thought he had never seen a
finer, grander model of beauty.
"Gertrude," he urged tenderly, "do you think I would have taken up a
mere rumor and brought it to you? The gentleman I saw was a stranger to
me; and gave his evidence unbiased."
"What evidence?" She asked the question proudly.
"That Paul gained his case in March, and made a large sum of money by
it. That Mr. Curtis was so much pleased he offered to make Dudley a
sort of partner in the profits; that is he was to stay abroad and have
a royalty on every article sold under their patent. It will be a year
more, my informant tells me, before it is necessary for Paul to be
there; but he is wasting his time while—"
"No, Edward; don't draw inferences which you may regret. He is
travelling as he proposed to do. Why he doesn't write I don't pretend
to explain. He may have written frequently and the letters be still
delayed. You have told me nothing as yet which is disgraceful; unworthy
an honorable man. (You see I overheard Marion's expressions.) Nothing
to lead me even to a desire to forget the words, 'I promise to love,
honor and obey Paul Dudley; to cling to him till death us do part.' You
are prejudiced, Edward; Paul observed the change and mourned it. You
will live to regret you suspected him. The year is not out. You know he
is not aware he has a son; and you will see that he will either return
or send for me to join him, and I shall go."