 | CHAPTER XXXIV. My wife and I, or, Harry Henderson's history |  |
34. CHAPTER XXXIV.
[Eva Van Arsdel to Isabel Convers.]
MY DEAREST BELLE:—Since I last wrote you wondrous
things have taken place, and of course I
must keep you au courant.
In the first place Mr. Sydney came back to our horizon
like a comet in a blaze of glory. The first harbinger of
his return was not himself in propriâ, but cards for a
croquet fête up at Clairmont got up with the last degree
of elegance.
Mr. Sydney, it appears, understands the effect of a
gilded frame to set off a picture, and so resolved to manifest
himself to us in all his surroundings at Clairmont.
The party was to be very select and recherché, and of
course everybody was just wild to go, and the Elmores
in particular were on the qui vive to know if we had
invitations before them. Sophia Elmore called down for
nothing but to see. We had all the satisfaction there
was to be got in showing her our cards and letting her
know that they had come two days sooner than theirs.
Aunt Maria contrived to give them to understand that
Mr. Sydney gave the entertainment mostly on my account,
which I think was assuming quite too much in the case.
I am positively tired of these mean little rivalries and
these races that are run between families.
It is thought that Sophia Elmore is quite fascinated by
Mr. Sydney. Sophia is a nice, spirited girl, with a good,
generous heart as I believe, and it's a thousand pities she
shouldn't have him if she cares for him.
But, to my story. You may imagine the fuss at Tullegig's.
Of course we belong to the class who live in the
enjoyment of “nothing to wear,” and the first result of a
projected entertainment is to throw us all on our knees
before Tullegig, who queens it over us accordingly.
I was just dying to find out if a certain person was to
be there. Of late our intercourse has been so very stately
and diplomatic that it really becomes exciting. He has
avoided every appearance of intimacy, every approach to
our old confidential standing, and yet apparently for the
life of him cannot keep from taking views of me at safe
distance; so, as I said, it was something to see if he
would be there.
As to Clairmont, I think in the course of my life I
have seen fine grounds, fine houses, fine furniture, and
fine fêtes before. Nevertheless I must do Sydney the
justice to say that he gave a most charming and beautiful
entertainment where everything was just as lovely
as could be. We went up on a splendid boat to the sound
of music. We had a magnificent lunch under the trees,
and there were arrangements for four games to go on at
once, which made a gay and animated tableau. All the
girls wore the prettiest costumes you can imagine, each
one seeming prettier than the other; and when they were
all moving about in the game it made a bright, cheerful
effect. Mr. Henderson was there and distinguished
himself to such a degree that he was appointed one of
the four who were to play a match-game, in conclusion,
for a prize. Curiously enough he played with Sophia
against Sydney and myself. How we did fight! Sophie
is one of these girls that feel everything to the tips of their
fingers, and I am another, and if we didn't make those men
bestir themselves! I fancy they found women rulers were
of a kind to keep men pretty busy.
I can imagine the excitement we women would make of
an election if we should ever get into politics. Would
split-shots in parties, and wire ourselves artfully behind
wickets, and do all sorts of perplexing things? I confess
if the excitement should get to be half as great as in
playing croquet, I should tremble to think of it.
Well, it was some excitement at all events to play against
each other, he and I. Didn't I seek out his ball, didn't I
pursue it, beat it back from wickets, come on it with most
surprising and unexpected shots? Sophie fought with desperation
on the other side, and at last they seemed to have
carried the day, there was but one stroke wanting to put
them out; they had killed Sydney at the stake and banished
me to the farthest extremity of the ground. Mamma always
said I had the genius for emergencies, and if you'll
believe me I struck quite across the ground and hit Sophie's
ball and sent it out, and then I took his back to make
my two last wickets with, and finally with an imposing
coup de théatre I croqueted him to the other end of the
ground, and went out amid thunders of applause. He
took it with great presence of mind, knelt down and laid
the mallet handsomely at my feet, and professed to deliver
himself captive, and I imposed it on him as a task to write
a ballad descriptive of the encounter. So he was shut up
for about half an hour in the library, and came out with a
very fine and funny ballad in Chevy Chase measure describing
our exploits, which was read under the trees, and
cheered and encored in the liveliest manner possible.
On the whole, Mr. Henderson may be said to have had
quite a society success yesterday, as I heard him very much
admired, and the Elmores overwhelmed him with pressing
invitations to call, to come to their soirées, etc., etc. You
see these Elmores have everything money can buy, and so
they are distracted to be literary, or at least to have literary
people in their train, and they have always been wanting
to get Henderson and Jim Fellows to their receptions. So
I heard Mrs. Elmore overwhelming him with compliments
on his poem in a way that quite amused me, for I knew
He is of all persons one of the most difficult to flatter, and
has the keenest sense of the ridiculous; and Mrs. Elmore's
style is as if one should empty a bushel basket of peaches
or grapes on your head instead of passing the fruit dish.
But I am so busy traducing my neighbors that I forgot to
say I won the croquet prize, which was duly presented. It
was a gold croquet mallet set as a pin with four balls of
emerald, amethyst, ruby, and topaz depending from it. It
had quite an Etruscan effect and was very pretty, but when
I saw how much Sophia really took the defeat to heart,
my soul was moved for her and I made a peace-offering
by getting her to accept it. It was not easy at first, but I
made a point of it and insisted upon it with all my logic,
telling her that in point of skill she had really won the
game, that my last stroke was only a lucky accident, and
you know I can generally talk people into almost anything
I set my heart on, and so as Sophie was flattered by
my estimate of her skill and as the bauble is a pretty one,
I prevailed on her to take it. I am tired and sick of this fuss
between the Elmores and us, and don't mean to have more
of it, for Sophie really is a nice girl, and not a bit more
spoiled than any of the rest of us. notwithstanding all the
nonsense of her family, and she and I have agreed to be fast
friends for the future, whatever may come.
I had one other motive in this move. I never have accepted
jewelry from Sydney, and I was quite willing to
be rid of this. If I could only croquet his heart down to
Sophie to use, it might be a nice thing. I fancy she would
like it.
I managed my cards quite adroitly all day to avoid a
tête-à-tête interview with Sydney. I was careful always to
be in the center of a group of two or three, and when he
asked me to walk through the conservatories with him I
said, “Come, Amy and Jane,” and took them along.
As to somebody else, he made no attempt of the kind,
though I could see that he saw me wherever I went. Do
that they conceal their feelings? I am perfectly certain
that whatever the matter is, he thinks as much of me as
ever he did.
Well, it was moonlight and music all the way home, the
band playing the most heart-breaking, entrancing harmonies
from Beethoven and melodies from Schubert, and then
Wat Sydney annoyed me beyond measure by keeping up a
distracting chit-chat when I wanted to be quiet and listen.
He cares nothing for music, and people who don't are like
flies, they have no mercy and never will leave you a quiet
moment. The other one went off and sat by himself, gazed
at the moon and heard the music all in the most proper
and romantic style, and looked like a handsome tenor at an
opera.
So far, my dear, the history of our affairs. But something
more surprising than ever you heard has just happened,
and I must hasten to jot it down.
Yesterday afternoon, being worried and wearied with the
day before, I left your letter, as you see, and teased Ida to
go out driving with me in the Park. She had promised
Effie St. Clere to sketch some patterns of arbors and garden
seats that are there, for her new place at Fern Valley, and I
had resolved on a lonely ramble to clear my heart and brain.
Moreover, the last time I was there I saw from one of the
bridges a very pretty cascade falling into a charming little
wooded lake in the distance. I resolved to go in search of
this same cascade which is deep in a shady labyriath of
paths.
Well, it was a most lovely perfect day, and we left our
carriage at the terrace and started off for our ramble, Ida
with her sketch-book in hand. She was very soon hard at
work at a rustic summer-house while I plunged into a
woody tangle of paths guided only by the distant sound
of the cascades. It was toward evening and the paths
seemed quite solitary, for I met not a creature. I might
really have thought I was among the ferns and white
was so perfectly mossy and wild and solitary. A flock of
wild geese seemed to be making an odd sort of outlandish
noise, far in a deep, dark tangle of bushes, and it appeared
to me to produce the impression of utter solitude more
than anything else. Evidently it was a sort of wild lair
seldom invaded. I still heard the noise of the cascade
through a thicket of leaves, but could not get a sight of
it. Sometimes it seemed near and sometimes far off, but
at last I thought I hit upon a winding path that seemed to
promise to take me to it. It wound round a declivity and
I could tell by the sound I was approaching the water.
I was quite animated and ran forward till a sudden turn
brought me to the head of the cascade where there was a
railing and one seat, and as I came running down I saw
suddenly a man with a book in his hand sitting on this
seat, and it was Mr. Henderson.
He rose up when he saw me and looked pale, but an expression
of perfectly rapturous delight passed over his face
as I checked myself astonished.
“Miss Van Arsdel!” he said. “To what happy fate do I
owe this good fortune!”
I recovered myself and said that “I was not aware of
any particular good fortune in the case.”
“Not to you, perhaps,” he said, “but to me. I have seen
nothing of you for so long,” he added, rather piteously.
“There has been nothing that I am aware of to prevent
your seeing me,” I said. “If Mr. Henderson chooses
to make himself strange to his friends it is his own affair.”
He looked confused and murmured something about “many
engagements and business.”
“Mr. Henderson, you will excuse me,” said I, resolved not
to have this sort of thing go on any longer. “You have al
ways been treated at our house as an intimate and valued
friend; of late you seem to prefer to act like a ceremonious
stranger.”
“Indeed, you mistake me, entirely, Miss Van Arsdel,” he
my reasons; you see why I cannot and ought not.”
“I am quite in the dark as to both,” I said. “I cannot
see any reason why we should not be on the old footing, I
am sure. You have acted of late as if you were afraid to
meet me; it is all perfectly unaccountable to me. Why
should you do so? What reason can there be?”
“Because,” he said, with a sort of desperation, “because
I love you, Miss Van Arsdel. Because I always shall love
you too well to associate with you as the wife or betrothed
bride of another man.”
“There is no occasion you should, Mr. Henderson. I am
not, so far as I understand, either wife or betrothed to any
man,” I said.
He looked perfectly thunderstruck.
“Yet I heard it from the best aut ority.”
“From what authority?” said I, “for I deny it.”
“Your mother.”
“My mother?” I was thunderstruck in my turn; here it
was to be sure. Poor mamma! I saw through the whole
mystery.
“Your mother told me,” he went on, “that there was a
tacit engagement which was to be declared on Mr. Sydney's
return, and cautioned me against an undue intimacy.”
“My mother,” I said, “has done her utmost to persuade
me to this engagement. I refused Mr. Sydney out and out
in the beginning. She persuaded me to allow him to continue
his attentions in hope of changing my mind, but it
never has changed.”
He grew agitated and spoke very quickly.
“Oh, tell me, Miss Van Arsdel, if I may hope for success
in making the same effort!”
“I shouldn't be surprised if you might,” said I.
There followed a sort of electric flash and a confusion of
wild words after this—really my dear I cannot remember
half what he said—only the next I knew, somehow, we
were walking arm in arm together.
“What a talk we had, and what a walk up and down
those tangled alleys! going over everything and explaining
everything. It was a bright long twilight and the great
silver moon rose upon us while yet we were talking. After
a while I heard Ida calling up and down the paths for me.
She came up and met us with her sketch-book under her
arm.”
“Ida, we're engaged, Harry and I,” I said.
“So I thought,” she said, looking at us kindly and stretching
out both hands.
I took one and he the other.
“Do you think I have any chance with your parents?”
asked Harry.
“I think,” said Ida, “that you will find trouble at first,
but you may rely on Eva, she will never change; but we
must go home.”
“Yes,” said I, “it would not do to introduce the matter by
getting up a domestic alarm and sending a party to drag the
lake for us; we must drive home in a peaceable, orderly
manner,” and so, it being agreed among us that I should try
my diplomatic powers on mamma first, and Harry should
speak to papa afterward, we drove home.
Well, now Belle, it is all over—the mystery I mean; and
the struggle with the powers, that bids to begin. How odd
it is that marriage, which is a thing of all others most personal
and individual, is a thing where all your friends want
you to act to please them!
Mamma probably in her day felt toward papa just as I
feel, but I am sure she will be drowned in despair that I
cannot see Wat Sydney with her eyes, and that I do choose
to see Harry with mine. But it isn't mamma that is to live
with him, it is I; it is my fearful venture for life, not hers.
I am to give the right to have and to hold me till life's end.
When I think of that I wonder I am not afraid to risk it
with any man, but with him I am not. I know him so intimately
and trust him so entirely.
What a laugh I gave him last night, telling him how
and seemed perfectly astonished that I had had the perspicuity
to read his feelings. These men, my dear, have a kind
of innocent stupidity in matters of this kind that is refreshing!
Well, if I am not mistaken, there was one blissful individual
sent home in New York last night, notwithstanding
the terrors of the `stern parents,' that are yet to be encountered
How I do chatter on! Well, my dear Belle, you see I have
kept my word. I always told you that I would let you know
when I was engaged, the very first of any one, and now here
it is. You may make the most of it and tell whom you please,
for I shall never change. I am as firm as Ben Lomond.
| CHAPTER XXXIV. My wife and I, or, Harry Henderson's history | |