Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels (144 page)

Read Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels Online

Authors: Harriet Beecher Stowe

Tags: #test

BOOK: Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels
9.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Page 829
iting; nobody to take care of him, and see to his clothes, and nurse him up when he gets a little hoarse and run down. Well, I suppose if I
am
unregenerate, I do know how to keep things in order; and if I should keep
such
a man's soul in his body, I should be doing some good in the world; because, if ministers don't live, of course they can't convert anybody. Just think of his saying that I could be a comfort to
him!
I told him that it was perfectly ridiculous. 'And besides,' says I, 'what will everybody think?' I thought that I had really talked him out of the notion of it last night; but there he was in again this morning, and told me he had derived great encouragement from what I had said. Well, the poor man really is lonesome,his mother's dead, and he hasn't any sisters. I asked him why he didn't go and take Miss Olladine Slocum: everybody says she would make a first-rate minister's wife.''
"Well, and what did he say to that?" said Mary.
"Well, something really silly,about my looks," said Cerinthy, looking down.
Mary looked up, and remarked the shining black hair, the long dark lashes lying down over the glowing cheek, where two arch dimples were nestling, and said, quietly,
"Probably he is a man of taste, Cerinthy; I advise you to leave the matter entirely to his judgment."
"You don't, really, Mary!" said the damsel, looking up. "Don't you think it would injure
him,
if I should?"
"I think not, materially," said Mary.
"Well," said Cerinthy, rising, "the men will be coming home from the mowing, before I get home, and want their supper. Mother has got one of her headaches on this afternoon, so I can't stop any longer. There isn't a soul in the house knows where anything is, when I am gone. If I should ever take it into my head to go off, I don't know what would become of father and mother. I was telling mother, the other day, that I thought unregenerate folks were of some use in
this
world, any way."
"Does your mother know anything about it?" said Mary.
"Oh, as to mother, I believe she has been hoping and praying about it these three months. She thinks that I am such a desperate case, it is the only way I am to be brought in, as she calls it. That's what set me against him at first; but the

 

Page 830
fact is, if girls will let a man argue with them, he always contrives to get the best of it. I am kind of provoked about it, too. But, mercy on us! he is so meek, there is no use of getting provoked at him. Well, I guess I will go home and think about it."
As she turned to go, she looked really pretty. Her long lashes were wet with a twinkling moisture, like meadow-grass after a shower; and there was a softened, childlike expression stealing over the careless gayety of her face.
Mary put her arms round her with a gentle caressing movement, which the other returned with a hearty embrace. They stood locked in each other's arms,the glowing, vigorous, strong-hearted girl, with that pale, spiritual face resting on her breast, as when the morning, songful and radiant, clasps the pale silver moon to her glowing bosom.
"Look here now, Mary," said Cerinthy; "your folks are all gone. You may as well walk with me. It's pleasant now."
"Yes, I will," said Mary; "wait a minute, till I get my bonnet."
In a few moments the two girls were walking together in one of those little pasture foot-tracks which run so cozily among huckleberry and juniper bushes, while Cerinthy eagerly pursued the subject she could not leave thinking of. Their path now wound over high ground that overlooked the distant sea, now lost itself in little copses of cedar and pitchpine, and now there came on the air the pleasant breath of new hay, which mowers were harvesting in adjoining meadows.
They walked on and on, as girls will; because, when a young lady has once fairly launched into the enterprise of telling another all that
he
said, and just how
he
looked, for the last three months, walks are apt to be indefinitely extended.
Mary was, besides, one of the most seductive little confidantes in the world. She was so pure from selfishness, so heartily and innocently interested in what another was telling her, that people in talking with her found the subject constantly increasing in interest,although, if they really had been called upon afterwards to state the exact portion in words

 

Page 831
which she added to the conversation, they would have been surprised to find it so small.
In fact, before Cerinthy Ann had quite finished her confessions, they were more than a mile from the cottage, and Mary began to think of returning, saying that her mother would wonder where she was, when she came home.

 

Page 832
XXXV.
Old Love and New Duty
The sun was just setting, and the whole air and sea seemed flooded with rosy rays. Even the crags and rocks of the sea-shore took purple and lilac tints, and savins and junipers, had a painter been required to represent them, would have been found not without a suffusion of the same tints. And through the tremulous rosy sea of the upper air, the silver full-moon looked out like some calm superior presence which waits only for the flush of a temporary excitement to die away, to make its tranquillizing influence felt.
Mary, as she walked homeward with this dreamy light around her, moved with a slower step than when borne along by the vigorous arm and determined motion of her young friend.
It is said that a musical sound uttered with decision by one instrument always makes the corresponding chord of another vibrate; and Mary felt, as she left her positive but warmhearted friend, a plaintive vibration of something in her own self, of which she was conscious her calm friendship for her future husband had no part. She fell into one of those reveries which she thought she had forever forbidden to herself, and there rose before her mind the picture of a marriage-ceremony,but the eyes of the bridegroom were dark, and his curls were clustering in raven ringlets, and her hand throbbed in his as it had never throbbed in any other.
It was just as she was coming out of a little grove of cedars, where the high land overlooks the sea, and the dream which came to her overcame her with a vague and yearning sense of pain. Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her, and some one said, "Mary!" It was spoken in a choked voice, as one speaks in the crises of a great emotion; and she turned and saw those very eyes, that very hair, yes, and the cold little hand throbbed with that very throb in that strong, living, manly hand; and, whether in the body or out of the body God

 

Page 833
knoweth, she felt herself borne in those arms, and words that spoke themselves in her inner heart, words profaned by being repeated, were on her ear.
"Oh! is this a dream? is this a dream? James! are we in heaven? Oh, I have lived through such an agony! I have been so worn out! Oh, I thought you never would come!" And then the eyes closed, and heaven and earth faded away together in a trance of blissful rest.
But it was no dream; for an hour later you might have seen a manly form sitting in that self-same place, bearing in his arms a pale figure which he cherished as tenderly as a mother her babe. And they were talking together,talking in low tones; and in all this wide universe neither of them knew or felt anything but the great joy of being thus side by side.
They spoke of love mightier than death, which many waters cannot quench. They spoke of yearnings, each for the other,of longing prayers,of hopes deferred,and then of this great joy,for
one
had hardly yet returned to the visible world.
Scarce wakened from deadly faintness, she had not come back fully to the realm of life,only to that of love,to love which death cannot quench. And therefore it was, that, without knowing that she spoke, she had said all, and compressed the history of those three years into one hour.
But at last, thoughtful of her health, provident of her weakness, he rose up and passed his arm around her to convey her home. And as he did so, he spoke
one
word that broke the whole charm.
"You will allow me, Mary, the right of a future husband, to watch over your life and health."
Then came back the visible world,recollection, consciousness, and the great battle of duty,and Mary drew away a little, and said,
"Oh, James, you are too late! that can never be!"
He drew back from her.
"Mary, are you married?"
"Before God, I am," she said. "My word is pledged. I cannot retract it. I have suffered a good man to place his whole faith upon it,a man who loves me with his whole soul."
"But, Mary, you do not love
him. That
is impossible!" said

 

Page 834
James, holding her off from him, and looking at her with an agonized eagerness. "After what you have just said, it is not possible."
"Oh, James! I am sure I don't know what I have said,it was all so sudden, and I didn't know what I was saying,but things that I must never say again. The day is fixed for next week. It is all the same as if you had found me his wife."
"Not quite," said James, his voice cutting the air with a decided manly ring. "I have some words to say to that yet."
"Oh, James, will you be selfish? will
you
tempt me to do a mean, dishonorable thing? to be false to my word deliberately given?"
"But," said James, eagerly, "you know, Mary, you
never
would have given it, if you had known that I was living."
"That is true, James; but I
did
give it. I have suffered him to build all his hopes of life upon it. I
beg
you not to tempt me,help me to do right!"
"But, Mary, did you not get my letter?"
"Your letter?"
"Yes,that long letter that I wrote you."
"I never got any letter, James."
"Strange!" he said. "No wonder it seems sudden to you!"
"Have you seen your mother?" said Mary, who was conscious this moment only of a dizzy instinct to turn the conversation from where she felt too weak to bear it.
"No; do you suppose I should see anybody before you?"
"Oh, then, you must go to her!" said Mary. "Oh, James, you don't know how she has suffered!"
They were drawing near to the cottage-gate.
"Do, pray!" said Mary. "Go, hurry to your mother! Don't be too sudden, either, for she's very weak; she is almost worn out with sorrow. Go, my dear brother!
Dear
you always will be to me."
James helped her into the house, and they parted. All the house was yet still. The open kitchen-door let in a sober square of moonlight on the floor. The very stir of the leaves on the trees could be heard. Mary went into her little room, and threw herself upon the bed, weak, weary, yet happy,for deep and high above all other feeling was the great relief that
he
was living still. After a little while she heard the rat-

 

Page 835
tling of the wagon, and then the quick patter of Miss Prissy's feet, and her mother's considerate tones, and the Doctor's grave voice,and quite unexpectedly to herself, she was shocked to find herself turning with an inward shudder from the idea of meeting him. "How very wicked!" she thought,"how ungrateful!"and she prayed that God would give her strength to check the first rising of such feelings.
Then there was her mother, so ignorant and innocent, busy putting away baskets of things that she had bought in provision for the wedding-ceremony.
Mary almost felt as if she had a guilty secret. But when she looked back upon the last two hours, she felt no wish to take them back again. Two little hours of joy and rest they had been,so pure, so perfect! she thought God must have given them to her as a keepsake to remind her of His love, and to strengthen her in the way of duty.
Some will, perhaps, think it an unnatural thing that Mary should have regarded her pledge to the Doctor as of so absolute and binding force; but they must remember the rigidity of her education. Self-denial and self-sacrifice had been the daily bread of her life. Every prayer, hymn, and sermon, from her childhood, had warned her to distrust her inclinations, and regard her feelings as traitors. In particular had she been brought up to regard the sacredness of a promise with a superstitious tenacity; and in this case the promise involved so deeply the happiness of a friend whom she had loved and revered all her life, that she never thought of any way of escape from it. She had been taught that there was no feeling so strong but that it might be immediately repressed at the call of duty; and if the thought arose to her of this great love to another, she immediately answered it by saying, "How would it have been if I had been married? As I could have overcome then, so I can now."
Mrs. Scudder came into her room with a candle in her hand, and Mary, accustomed to read the expression of her mother's face, saw at a glance a visible discomposure there. She held the light so that it shone upon Mary's face.
"Are you asleep?" she said.
"No, mother."
"Are you unwell?"

Other books

Lost in Pleasure by Marguerite Kaye
A Thief of Time by Tony Hillerman
West Texas Kill by Johnny D. Boggs
Murder of a Bookstore Babe by Swanson, Denise
Birthday by Alan Sillitoe
Behind the Scene by Vargas, Emory