University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

The young girl wept for a few moments, without heeding the tender assiduities
with which James Daily tried to soothe her, though withal surprised
at her excessive grief, accompanied, as it was, at the same time, by an apparent
wish to shun his kindly sympathies. Poor maiden! the more gently
he spoke, the more reason did she feel she had to let her tears flow; for she
felt that its tones could not always be for her! Deeply distressed, and
ignorant of the true cause of her grief, and finding he could not soothe her,
he sat by her, regarding her with surprise and sorrow.

`What, dearest sister, can I do to restore you once more to cheerfulness?'
he said, after surveying her a few moments in silence. `You see I am not
hurt; and if I were, this grief is too great. It shows me you love me very
much, and that I need not regret, as I have more than once done of late,
when I reflected how dear you were to me, that you were not my own
sister!' and he let his fingers bury themselves in the rich masses of her
glorious hair, and lifting them from her neck, he admired their lustre an instant
in the play of the light.

Slowly she lifted her face from his hand, upon which she had laid her
forehead to weep. Her tears were sealed suddenly up; though a few glittered
like dew-drops upon her cheeks. Her face was calm — the calmness
of effort. She put back her hair slowly with one hand, and then fixed her
gaze upon the lips which had uttered those fatal words; words that had
pierced her heart like arrows! words containing in themselves death to all
her hopes! Till this moment she had a hope she had cherished in the corner
of her heart! She thought that he only need be told her love for
him was deeper than a sister's love, to awaken in his bosom, all at once, that
sweet passion of his heart for her, which slumbered there all unknown to
him; and which he believed (as he suffered himself to reason) was only a
brother's love for a sister. But now this little, timid, trembling hope of her
young and loving heart, was slain by these few words: `I need not regret, as
I have more than once done of late, when I reflected how very dear you
were to me, that you are not my own sister!'

Alas! how these words sunk like lead into the deep fountain of her love!

Steadily she fixed her deep blue eyes upon his face, and neither spoke,
nor moved lip or eye-lash. She sat like some pale, beautiful statue of
Niobe. He drew back with surprise, and looks of alarm. Her pure, young
face was so full of woe — so pitiful in its look, that tears came fresh to his
eyes, he knew not wherefore.

`Frederica! my sister — my own dear sister, speak to me! Do not look
so piteously grieved. Your looks are enough to make one's heart break.
For God's sake, Frederica, alter the expression of your countenance! I
cannot bear to have you look upon me so!'

A smile, like the first glimmer of a wintery dawn, cold and faint, passed
slowly over her lips, which were motionless. This was more painful than
her sad, fixed gaze, and James, unable to endure the scene any longer,
caught her hands, and pressing his lips to her cheek, strove to rouse her
from a condition which alarmed him for her reason! Yet what cause there
was sufficient to induce this painful state, he could not divine. Her hand

and cheek were cold as marble to his touch, and seeing her eyes fixed, he
was about to call loudly upon his mother for her assistance, when she struggled
for utterance, and spoke:

`Do not — do not — I am well now, quite well!' she articulated, in
broken sentences, and in a voice so soft and low, that he could scarcely hear
the words. `You see I smile, James!' and she did smile — oh! how sadly
— how touchingly! James felt his heart swelling with emotion. He was
overwhelmed with wonder and sorrow. `Don't — alarm — alarm mother!
I shall be quite well! I — I couldn't breathe well! It is over now!' and
the poor girl breathed heavily several times, as if she had been laboring under
a sense of suffocation. `There, James, you see I am much better now,'
and she smiled more naturally upon him, and the soft expression of her eyes
came back. He saw that she was indeed better, and greatly relieved, for he
knew not how to understand it all, (as Frederica had never appeared so before,)
and he impulsively pressed her to his heart.

`God be thanked! I feared you were losing your reason. What has
been the matter with you, dearest sister?'

`Nothing, James, it is nothing. I am well — at least I will try to be
well,' she added, in the most touching accents, which, to those who knew her
heart's secret, if heard by them, would have been infinitely painful.

`I am so very happy you are recovered. I never was more alarmed!
You smile to reassure me. Thanks, thanks! I feel that you are safe now.
Was it a headache?'

`A rushing of the blood, I believe, from the heart to the head! Do not
speak of it, James. It will not recur. It was a weakness. I shall try and
be stronger than this.'

`We will not speak of it. This is a sweet hat you were trimming,' he
said, taking up a hat from the table. `A velvet drab, bound with blue color,
and white and pink flowers inside! If you are making this for any one in
particular, I can tell you the complexion of the lady who ordered it.'

`I have not just trimmed that. It was not made to order, but only by my
fancy. It was, however, purchased to-day by a young lady.'

`A blue-eyed lady, with a delicate complexion, I will promise you,' he
said, smiling, and turning the hat round and surveying it.'

`Yes. But how did you know?' she asked, her voice still tremulous, yet
making in her soul a superhuman effort to appear interested, and not let him
suspect the state of her heart; for the generous girl, now that she felt there
was no hope for her love, would not that he should be made unhappy by
knowing of how much unhappiness he was the innocent cause. It was this
noble sentiment that enabled her to control herself when reason had nearly
left its throne, and all seemed darkness and chaos around her.

Before replying, struck by her deep tones, he looked upon her still pale
face, deeply touched by the sadness seen through its cheerfulness. He saw
that she was making an exertion to appear what she did not feel, and he was
impressed with the conviction that some secret sorrow lay at her heart. This
impression made him resolve to seek out the cause, and use his influence to
remove it. But the present, he felt, was no time to refer to the subject; for
she looked as if each moment she would dissolve in tears, of which, in spite
of all her restraining efforts, her eyes were swimming full!

`None, dearest Frederica, but a blue-eyed young lady (if she has taste
would chose blue,' he said, in a cheerful tone. `You know I am something
of a critie in these matters. Nothing, now, looks so badly as blue on a brunette,
or scarlet on a blonde. Let them exchange colors, and they would then

wear what would be in good taste, and becoming. The light brunette should
wear straw-color, and the very florid, pinks! It is not all ladies that know how
to choose becoming colors. Two-thirds of them, I have noticed, as they come
into the shop, when I have been sitting here unobserved, select velvets and
ribbons from the richness of the pattern, without the least reference to what
is becoming to them. You may always know a lady of taste by the harmony
that prevails in the choice of her colors, selected with reference, primarily,
to her style of complexion. You smile; and that is what I want, to
make you smile! I would be willing to go to work, and try to trim a hat
after my own fancy, if I thought I could make you laugh at me!'

`I will promise to laugh, James.'

`Will you? Then here is a hat — a delicate lemon-color! I will — but
I see it is quite trimmed, and in the most perfect taste. Now, I will bet
you — let me see, Frederica, what I shall bet you! It shall be a pair of
snow-white gloves, for you always wear white gloves, against — against that
vest pin-cushion you were to make me! I will bet you the one against the
other, sister mine, that the lady who purchases this hat will have, let me see,
dark eyes —'

`It is made to order,' said Frederica, dropping her eyes, and trembling
lest she should betray herself, as he took up the hat, in the front of which
she had been arranging the flowers when he came in.

`To order! Then I sha'n't fail to guess. She was young — she was
beautiful?' he said, interrogatively.

`Very, very beautiful. You put your hand to your head often, James!
Are you not ill?'

No — it is but a slight headache, the effects of my rencounter. Let us talk
about this fair bonnet-buyer. You say she is very beautiful?'

`Oh, very lovely indeed, James,' she said, sighing.

`Let me see! Lemon; that is a fair brunette's choice. She is a fair
brunette! She must have dark-brown eyes, and brown hair shaded so deep
as to be almost black. A jet black hair would have chosen deeper crimson,
and orange instead of lemon! Am I not right, sister?' he inquired, smiling.

`You have described her, James,' she answered with difficulty, while her
bosom began to heave with deep emotion.

`You are ill again, Frederica!'

`No — no! Don't think of me, James. You described the lady as if you
knew who it was.'

`I haven't the least idea.'

`Can you guess? Have you no friend whom you think this hat would
become?'

This was a very courageous question for Frederica; but she felt a nervous
desire to know the worst. James laughed, colored slightly, and looking
handsomer than she thought she had ever seen him, he answered, with that
happy look with which one recalls pleasant objects.

`Yes — there is one, Frederica, you have heard me speak of! She has
been absent, from time to time, the last four years, at a boarding-school, at
Troy; but a few weeks ago returned to remain at home permanently. It is
Grace Weldon. She,' he added, with praiseworthy emotion, `who, when I
was a poor lad, starving and in rags, and she a lovely child of ten, gave me
food and clothing, and the sixpence with which I was enabled to purchase
my first little stock of newspapers! You have not forgotten this, Frederica?'
'No, James, no; I have not forgotten,' responded Frederica, who felt as
if her heart was bursting.

`Perhaps it was Grace who ordered the bonnet. Do you know the name
of the young lady?'

With a great effort to appear calm, Frederica replied,

`It was a Miss Weldon.'

`Miss Weldon! Then, surely, it must have been Grace,' he cried, with a
glow of delight; and taking the hat in his hand, he again examined it with
new and pleased interest. `Yes; it will become no other person so well as
Grace! What perfect taste she possesses! With what just harmony the
colors of the ribbon, of the flowers, of the velvet are chosen! No one could
choose so perfectly!'

Frederica could not repress a slight sigh. She did not tell James that
Miss Weldon had left the choice of every thing to her own taste, and that in
praising Miss Weldon so warmly he was praising her! She felt happy in
his commendation, though his thoughts were not of herself while he commended.
She was too generous, the noble girl, to rob Grace, her rival in
his affections as she was, of a single word of the praise he bestowed upon her.
James went on to say, still admiring the hat,

`Yes, sister; this hat is a manifestation of the cultivated mind of Miss
Weldon. Praise too, and not a little either, is due to your own fine taste
and judgment. But for so skilful an artist to execute, these colors would
have failed in their effect. United, your taste and that of Grace together,
you have produced a perfect thing in its way! So you saw Miss Weldon!
How were you pleased with her, sister?' he asked, and awaiting, with deep
attention, her reply.

Frederica did not lift her long fringed eye-lids; but, with them cast down
and tremulous, a deep glow in her cheeks, and a just perceptible quiver of
the under lip, while with her fingers she mechanically rolled up the ribbon
of the bonnet into the shape of paper candle-lighters, she answered,

`I thought her very lovely and — and very happy.'

`I am glad you were pleased with her appearance. But why did you
think her happy, and mention it so sadly, too?'

`She laughed, and was gay, as if her heart was light. I loved her — I
mean I felt then that if I knew her I should love her very much!'

`Indeed you would, Frederica. Grace is a charming girl — lovely in
mind as in person, and her heart overruns with good and noble feelings. I
have seen much of her of late, and the more I see of her, the more I discover
in her to — to admire! I wish you did know her. I know that she
would love you, Frederica.'

`I am a poor orphan — a humble bonnet-girl. She would not care to
know one like me! She is rich and happy!'

`And are you not happy, Frederica? Why this word so often?' he
asked, with a slight tone of kind reproach. `Are you not happy?'

`Oh, yes — yes, I am very happy,' she said, hardly knowing what she
said; and she did feel happy then, for James held her hand in his, and she
was by his side, though he loved her not with that love she sought for in his
heart, and for which her own was breaking.

`Grace, it is true, is rich, but she is not proud, my sister. You must
know her. When does she send for this hat?'

`To-morrow.'

`Take it home to her yourself, Frederica, and please me. I wish her to
see you, and you to see her. Two persons so dear to me should love each
other!' he said, blushing at his first open confession of an interest in Miss
Weldon; for, till this moment, he had hardly dared to confess it to himself.

Did poor Frederica hear aright! Had the last blow to her hopes at
length fallen upon her soul! She knew already that she was loved only as
a sister. She had heard him say, in the frankness of his heart, that he
wished she were his own sister, so dear was she to him! But she only
feared he loved another as she would be loved! She had trembled lest
Grace should be that other! But now he had confessed. He had said
that Grace was equally dear to him. But she herself was dear only as a
sister! herself he loved only as a sister! He could not love Grace as a
sister too! If he loved her, it was with that love she mourned for in her
heart of hearts! And if Grace and herself were alike dear, she could
measure his attachment to Grace by his brotherly affection for her. Oh,
then! oh, how fond and dear must that lovely and happy one be to him, if
he but love her with half the love which, as a brother, he bestows upon
me!

Such were the reflections that rapidly passed through her mind; and, almost
overpowered by the sensations of sorrow which rushed upon her, she
hastily rose, and excusing herself to him, in scarcely articulate sentences, she
left the apartment, to retire to her pillow, which she bathed with tears of the
most poignant grief; for in one short hour all her hopes of love had been
crushed!