 | CHAPTER XIII. Vashti, or, "Until death us do part" |  |
13. CHAPTER XIII.
“ULPIAN, have you had any conversation with Salome?”
“Upon what subject?”
“Have you talked with her concerning her studies?”
“Not recently. Soon after Muriel and Miss Dexter came, I
mentioned to her the fact that I should be glad to see her enter
a class with Muriel and pursue the same studies, and that such
an arrangement would be entirely agreeable to Miss Dexter;
but she declined the proposition, saying she would only trouble
the latter to teach her Italian. Do you know why she is so
anxious to acquire that language?”
“No; to tell you the truth, I know less and less every day
about her actions, for the child has suddenly grown very reserved.
This morning she was walking up and down the library
with her hands behind her and her eyes looking as if they were
travelling to Jericho or Jeddo, and when I asked her why she
was so unusually silent, she snapped like a toy-torpedo, `I am
silent because this is one of my wicked days, and I am fighting
the devil; and if I open my lips I shall say something that will
give him the victory.' I held out my hand to her and begged
her to come and sit by me and tell me what troubled or tempted
her, — and what do you suppose she said?”
“Something, I am afraid, that I shall be sorry to hear you
repeat.”
“She laid her hand on her heart and answered, `You are
very good, Miss Jane, but you can no more help me than the
disciples could relieve that wretch whom only Christ healed.
`This kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.' Whereupon,
she snatched a book from the table and left the room. I
did not see her for several hours, and when I met her in the
hall, a few moments since, I said, `Well, dear, which won the
victory, sin or my little girl?' She put her hands on my shoulders,
laughed bitterly, and answered, `It was a drawn battle.
— nay, glaring at each other. Let me be quiet a little while,
and don't ask me about it.'”
“Can you conjecture the cause of the present trouble?”
“I have a suspicion.”
Miss Jane paused, sighed, and frowned.
“I should think you might persuade her to confide in you.”
“Pooh! Persuade her? I would quite as soon undertake
to persuade the Andes to dance a jig as attempt to discover
what she has determined not to divulge. If you knew her as
well as I do, you would appreciate the uselessness of trying to
persuade her to do anything. But you men never see what lies
right under your noses, and I believe if you lived in the same
house with that child for five years longer you would understand
her as little as you do to-day. Ulpian, shut the door, and
sit down here close to me.”
Dr. Grey complied; and, laying her shrunken hand on her
brother's knee, Miss Jane said, hesitatingly, —
“My dear boy, I don't know whether I ought to tell you,
and, indeed, I do not see my way clearly; but you seem so unsuspecting
that I think it is my duty to talk to you.”
“Pray come to the point, dear Janet. Your exordium is
very tantalizing. Tell me frankly what disturbs you.”
“It pains me to call your attention to a fact that I know
cannot fail to produce annoyance.”
He put his arm around her, and, drawing her head to his
shoulder, answered, tenderly, —
“My precious sister, I have seen for some days that you were
perplexed and anxious, but I abstained from questioning you
because I felt assured whenever you deemed it best to confide
in me, you would voluntarily unburden your heart. Now lay
all your troubles upon me, and keep back nothing. Has
Salome grieved you?”
“Oh, the child does not intend to grieve me! Ulpian,
can't you imagine what makes her unhappy, and restless, and
contrary?”
“She is very wayward, passionate, and obstinate, and any
to her; but I believe she is really striving to correct the unfortunate
defects in her character. She evidently dislikes our
guests, and this proves a continual source of disquiet to her;
for, while she endeavors to treat them courteously, I can see
that she would be excessively rude if she dared to indulge her
antipathies.”
“Do you know why she dislikes Muriel so intensely?”
“No; I cannot even conjecture. Muriel is very amiable and
affectionate, and seems disposed to become very fond of Salome,
if she would only encourage her advances. Can you explain
the mystery?”
“If you were not as blind as a mole, or the fish in Mammoth
Cave, you would see that Salome is insanely jealous of
your affection for your ward, and that is the cause of all the
trouble.”
“It is unreasonable and absurd in her to entertain such feelings;
and, moreover, she has no right to cherish any jealousy
towards my ward.”
“Unreasonable! Yes, quite true; but did you ever know a
woman to be very reasonable concerning the man she loves?”
Dr. Grey's quiet face flushed, and he rose instantly, looking
incredulous and embarrassed.
“Surely, my dear sister, you do not intend to insinuate, or
desire me to infer, that Salome has any —”
He paused, bit his lip, and walked to the window.
“I mean to say, in plain Anglo-Saxon, and I desire you to
understand, that Salome is no longer a child; and that she loves
you, my dear boy, better than she will ever love any other
human being. These things are very strange, indeed, and girls'
whims baffle all rules and disappoint all reasonable expectations;
but, nevertheless, it does no good to shut your eyes to facts that
are as clear as daylight. It is not a sudden freak that has
seized the poor child; it has grown upon her, almost without
her understanding herself; but I discovered it the day that you
left home so unexpectedly for New York. Her distress betrayed
see how completely her thoughts centre in you.”
“Oh, Janet, I hope you mistake her! I cannot believe it
possible, for I recall nothing in her conduct that justifies your
supposition; and I do not think I lack penetration. If she
were really interested in me, as you imagine, she certainly would
not thrust so prominently and constantly before me faults of
character which she well knows I cannot tolerate. Moreover,
my dear sister, consider the disparity in our years, the incompatibility
of our tastes and habits, and the improbability that a
handsome young girl should cherish any feeling stronger than
esteem or friendship for a staid man of my age! No, no; it is
too incredible to be entertained, and I am sorry you ever suggested
such an annoying chimera to me. Salome is rather a
singular compound, I willingly admit, but I acquit her of the
folly you seem inclined to impute to her.”
Dr. Grey walked up and down the library floor, and, as his
sister watched him, a sad smile trembled over her thin, wrinkled
face.
“Ulpian, you are considerably younger than our poor father
was when he married a beautiful creature not one month older
than Salome is to-day. Will you sit in judgment on your own
young mother?”
“Nay, Janet; the parallelism is not as apparent as you imagine,
for my manner toward Salome has been calculated to
check and chill any sentiment analogous to that which my father
sought to win from my mother. Pray, do not press upon me a
surmise which is indescribably painful to me.”
He resumed his seat, and, thrusting his fingers through his
hair, leaned his head on his open hand.
“My dear boy, if true, why should it prove indescribably
painful to you?”
“Cannot your womanly intuitions spare me an explicit
reply?”
“No; speak frankly to me.”
“No man of honor — no man who has any delicacy or refinement
of feeling — can fail to be distressed and annoyed by the
in a woman's heart an interest which he cannot possibly reciprocate.”
“But, if you have never considered the subject until now,
how do you know that you may not be able to return the
affection?”
“Because, when I examine my own heart, I find not even the
germ of a feeling which years might possibly ripen into love.”
“Will you candidly answer the question I am about to ask
you?”
“Yes, I think I can safely promise that much, simply because
I wish to conceal nothing from you; and I cannot conjecture
any inquiry on your part from which I should shrink. What
would you ask?”
“Is it because you are interested in some other woman, that
you speak so positively of the hopelessness of my poor Salome's
case?”
“No, my sister; no woman has any claim or hold on my
heart stronger than that of mere friendship. I have never
loved any one as I must love the woman I make my wife; and
since I have seen and merely admired so many who were attractive,
lovely, and lovable, I often think that I shall probably
never marry.
I have liked several women; never any
With so full a soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owned,
And put it to a foil.'
dogmatize, for we are all more or less the victims of caprice;
and, like other men, I may some day set the imperious feet of
fancy upon the neck of judgment and sound reason. As yet, I
have not met the perfect character whom I could ask to bear
my name; still, I may be so fortunate as either to find my ideal,
or imagine that I do; or else become so earnestly attached to
some beautiful woman, that, for her sake, I will willingly lower my
I have little inclination to discuss them; but I wish at all times
to be entirely frank with you. Salome would never suit me as
a life-long companion. She meets none of the requirements of
my intellectual nature, and her perverse disposition, and what
might almost be termed diablerie, repel instead of attracting
me. I pity the child, and can sympathize cordially with her
efforts to redeem herself from the luckless associations of earlier
years that wofully distorted her character; and I can truly say
that I am interested in her welfare and improvement, and have
a faint brotherly affection for her; but I thoroughly comprehend
my own feelings when I assure you, Janet, that were Salome
and I left alone in the world I could never for a moment entertain
the idea of calling such a wayward child my wife. Are
you satisfied?”
“Convinced, at least, that you are not deceiving me. But,
Ulpian, the girl is growing very beautiful — don't you think
so? — or, is it my love that makes me see her through flattering
lenses?”
“Her lips are too thin, and her eyes too keen and restless for
perfect beauty, which claims repose as one of its essential elements;
but, notwithstanding these flaws, she has undoubtedly
one of the handsomest faces I have ever seen, and certainly a
graceful, fine figure.”
“And you are such an admirer of beauty,” said Miss Jane,
slipping her fingers caressingly into her brother's hand.
“Yes; I shall not deny that I yield to no one in appreciation
of lovely faces; but, if I am aware that, like some rich crimson
June rose whose calyx cradles a worm, the heart beneath the
perfect form is gnawed by some evil tendency, or shelters vindictive
passion and sinful impulses, I should certainly not select
it in making up the precious bouquet that is to shed perfume
and beauty in my home, and call my thoughts from the din and
strife of the outer world to holiness and peace.”
“You have no mercy on the child.”
“I ought to have no mercy on glaring faults which she should
ere this have corrected.”
“But she is so young — only seventeen! Think of it!”
Dr. Grey frowned, and partially withdrew his hand from his
sister's clasp.
“Janet, you grieve me. Surely you are not pleading with
me in behalf of Salome?”
Tears trickled over Miss Jane's sallow cheeks and dripped on
the doctor's hand, as she replied, —
“Bear with me, Ulpian. The girl is very dear to me; and,
loving you as she unquestionably does, I know that you could
make her a noble, admirable woman, — for she has some fine
traits, and your influence would perfect her character. Believe
me, my dear boy, you, and you only, can remould her heart.”
“Possibly, — if I loved her; for then I would be patient and
forbearing towards her faults. But I cannot even respect that
handsome, fiery, impulsive, unreasonable child, much less love
her; and, if I ever marry, my wife must be worthy to remould
my own defective life and erring nature. I am surprised, my
dear sister, that you, whose sincere affection I can not doubt,
should be willing to see me link my life with that of one so
much younger, and, I grieve to say it, so far inferior in all
respects. What congenial companionship could I promise myself?
What confidence could I repose — what esteem could I
entertain — for a silly girl, who, without warrant and utterly
unsought, bestows her love (if, indeed, what you say be true)
upon a man who never even dreamed of such folly, and is old
enough to be her father?”
“I can not comprehend the logic that condemns Salome, and
justifies your own mother; for, if there be any difference in their
lines of conduct, I am too stupid to see it.”
Miss Jane lifted, her head from her brother's shoulder, resolutely
dried her eyes, and settled her cap.
“My mother's tombstone should shelter her from all animadversion,
especially from the lips that owe their existence to her.
Do not, my sister, disturb the mouldering ashes of the long-buried
past. The unfortunate fact you have mentioned, and
which I should gladly doubt if you would only permit me to do
so, renders it necessary for me to be perfectly candid with you,
I have remarked that you watch me quite closely whenever I
am engaged in conversation with my ward or her governess;
and yesterday, when Muriel came, stood by me, and leaned her
arm on my shoulder, you frowned and looked harshly at the
child. Once for all, let me tell you that there is no more possibility
of my loving Muriel or Edith, than Salome. Of the three,
I care most for Muriel, who looks upon me as her second father,
and to whom I am deeply attached. If I caress the poor,
stricken child, and allow her to approach me familiarly, you ought
to understand your brother sufficiently well not to ascribe his
conduct to any feeling which he would blush to confess to his
sister. The day before Horace died, he said, `Be a father to
my daughter; take my place when I am gone.' If I were at
liberty to divulge some matters confided to me, I could easily
assure you that there is not a shadow of possibility that Muriel
will ever grieve and mortify me as Salome has done. Now look
at me, dear Janet, and kiss me, and trust your brother; for he
will never deceive you, and can not endure a moment's estrangement
from you.”
Miss Jane put up her lips for the caress, and, after a short
silence, Dr. Grey continued, —
“Tell me now what you think best under the circumstances,
and I will endeavor to coöperate with you. Does Salome know
you are cognizant of her weakness — her misfortune —”
He stammered, and again his face flushed.
“Upon my word, Ulpian, you are positively blushing! Don't
worry yourself, dear, over what can not be helped, or at least is
attributable to no fault of yours. No; you may be sure Salome
would be drawn, quartered, and broiled, before she would confess
to me the feeling which she does not suspect I have discovered.
Poor thing! I can't avoid pitying her whenever you take
Muriel's hand or caress her in any way. This morning you
smoothed the hair back from her forehead while she was stooping
over her drawing, and poor Salome's eyes flashed and looked
like a leopard's. She clenched her fingers as if she were strangling
something, and an expression came over her face that was dangerous,
but I am sure I do not know what to advise.”
“How futile and mocking are merely human schemes! My
principal object in bringing Muriel and Miss Dexter here, was
to provide agreeable and improving companions for your pet,
and to afford her the privilege of sharing the educational advantages
which Muriel enjoyed. L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose;
if, indeed, an occurrence so earnestly to be deplored can be deemed
providential. What are her plans relative to Jessie?”
“If she has matured any, she keeps them shut up in her own
heart. Once she talked freely to me on all subjects, but recently
she seems to avoid acquainting me with her intentions or
schemes. Of course, Ulpian, you know I have always expected
to leave her a portion of my property.”
“Certainly, dear Janet; you ought to provide comfortably
for the girl whom you have taught to rely upon your bounty.
It would be cruel and unpardonable to foster hopes that you
could not fully realize.”
“It was my intention to put into your hands the share I
intended for her, and to leave her also to your care, when I die;
but now I know not what is best. If she could be separated
from you, she might divert her thoughts and become interested
in other things or persons; but so long as you are in the same
house I know there will be nothing but wretchedness and disappointment
for her.”
After a long pause, during which Dr. Grey looked seriously
pained and perplexed, he said, sorrowfully, —
“You are right in thinking separation would be best; and I
will go away at once —”
“Go where?” exclaimed his sister, grasping his coat-sleeve.
“I will furnish the rooms over my office, and live there. It
will be more convenient for my business; but I dislike to leave
you and the dear old homestead.”
“Stuff! You will churn the Atlantic, with the North Pole
for a dasher! Ulpian Grey! come weal come woe, I don't
intend to give you up. Here, right here, you will live while
there is breath in my body, — unless you wish to make me sob
not recompense me for the loss of my boy's blue ones, and I
will not hear of such nonsense as the move you propose. You
know, dear, I can't be here very long at the best, and while God
spares me I want you near me. Besides, the separation of a few
miles would not be worth a thimbleful of chaff; for, of course,
Salome would hear of or see you daily, and the change would
amount to nothing but anxiety and grief on my part. We will
think the matter over, and do nothing rashly. But try to be
patient with my little girl; and, for my sake, Ulpian, do not
allow her to suspect that you dream of her feeling towards you.
It is pitiable, — it is distressing beyond expression; and God
knows, if I had thought for an instant that such a state of things
would ever have come to pass, I would have left her in the
poor-house sooner than have been instrumental in bringing such
misery upon her young life. Last night I was suffering so much
with my shoulder that I could not sleep, and I heard the child
pacing her room until after three o'clock. It was useless to
question her; for, of course, she would not confess the real cause,
and I did not wish her to know that I noticed what I could not
cure. But, my dearest boy, we are not to be blamed; so don't
look so mortified and grieved. I would not have opened your
unsuspecting eyes if I had not feared that your ignorance of the
truth might increase the trouble, and I knew I could safely
appeal to my sailor-boy's honor. Now you know all, and must
be guided by your own good sense and delicacy in your future
course toward the poor, proud young thing. Be guarded, Ulpian,
and don't torment her by petting Muriel in her presence; for
sometimes I am afraid there is bad blood in her veins, that
brings that wicked glow to her eyes, and I dread that she might
suddenly say or do some desperate thing that would plunge us
all in sorrow. You know she is not a meek creature, and we
must pity her weakness.”
Dr. Grey had grown very pale, and the profound regret printed
on his countenance found expression also in the deepened and
saddened tones of his voice.
“Trust me, Janet! I will do all a man can to rectify the
entirely unintentional cause. Salome's course is unwomanly,
and lowers her in my estimation; but she is so young I shall
hope and pray that her preference for me is not sufficiently
strong to prove more than an idle, fleeting, girlish fancy.”
He took his gloves from the table and left the room; and, for
some time after his departure, his sister sat rocking herself to and
fro, pondering all that had passed. Finally, she struck her hand
decisively upon the cushioned top of her crutch, and muttered, —
“Yes, he certainly is as nearly perfect as humanity can be;
but, after all, Ulpian Grey is only flesh and blood, and despite
his efforts to crush it, there must be some vanity hidden under
his proud humility, — for certainly he is both humble in one
sense, and inordinately proud in another; and I do not believe
there lives a man of his age who would not be flattered by the
love of a fresh young beauty like Salome. He thinks now that
he is distressed and mortified; and, of course, he is honest in
what he tells me; but I have studied human nature to very
little purpose for the last fifty years, if, before long, he does not
find himself more interested in Salome than he will be willing to
confess. Her love for him will invest her with a charm she
never possessed before, for men are vulnerable as women to the
cunning advances of flattery. One thing is as sure and clear
as that two and two make four, — if he is proof against Salome's
devotion it will be attributable to the fact that he gives his heart
to some one else; and I thought his blue eyes rather shied away
from mine when he said he had yet to meet the woman he could
marry. You don't intend to deceive me, my precious boy, I
know you don't; but I should not be astounded if you had
hoodwinked yourself, — a very little. But `sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof,' and I will wait, — and we shall see what
we shall see.”
| CHAPTER XIII. Vashti, or, "Until death us do part" | |