 | CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONCLUSION. 'Lena Rivers |  |
38. CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONCLUSION.
We hope the reader does not expect us to describe the
meeting between Durward and 'Lena, for we have not the
least, or, at the most, only a faint idea of what took place.
We only know that it occurred in the summer-house at
the foot of the garden, whither 'Lena had fled at the first
intimation of his arrival, and that on her return to the
house, after an interview of two whole hours, there were
on her cheeks traces of tears, which the expression of her
face said were not tears of grief.
“How do you like my daughter?” asked Mr. Graham,
mischievously, at the same time laying his arm proudly
about her neck.
“So well that I have asked her to become my wife, and she
has promised to do so, provided we obtain your consent,”
answered Durward, himself throwing an arm around the
blushing girl, who tried to escape, but he would not let
her, holding her fast until his father's answer was given.
Then turning to Mrs. Graham, he said, “Now, mother,
we will hear you.”
Kind and affectionate as she tried to be toward 'Lena,
Mrs. Graham had not yet fully conquered her olden prejudice,
and had the matter been left wholly with herself,
she would, perhaps, have chosen for her son a bride in
whose veins no plebeian blood was flowing; but she well
and very wisely she answered, that “she should interpose
no impediment to his marriage with her husband's
daughter.”
“Then it is settled,” said he, “and four weeks from
to-night I shall claim 'Lena for my own.”
“No, no, not so soon after poor grandma's death,”
said 'Lena, her tears flowing afresh at the mention of her
loss.
“If grandma could speak, she would tell you not to
wait,” urged Durward; but 'Lena was decided, and the
most that she would promise was, that early in the spring
she would think about it!
“Six whole months,” said Durward, counting them off
upon his fingers. “I'll never wait so long as that!” but
for the present he forebore pressing her further on the
subject, consoling himself with the reflection that he
should, at least, have her in the house with him, which
would in a great measure relieve the tedium of waiting
the prescribed length of time.
During the autumn, his entire devotion to 'Lena,
whom he would hardly suffer to be out of his sight, furnished
Carrie with a subject for very many ill-natured remarks
concerning the “sickish actions of newly engaged
people.”
“I declare,” said she, one evening after the departure
of Durward, 'Lena, and Nellie, who had all been spending
the day at Maple Grove, “I declare, I'm perfectly
disgusted, and if this is a specimen, I hope I shall never
be engaged.”
“Pray don't give yourself a moment's uneasiness,” retorted
John Jr., for whom the speech was partially intended.
“I've not the least idea that such a calamity
will ever befall you, and years hence my grandchildren
memory of Miss Caroline Livingstone, aged 70. In single
blessedness she lived—and in the same did die!”
“You think you are cunning, don't you,” returned Carrie,
more angry than she was willing to admit.
She had received news of Durward's engagement much
better than, under the circumstances, could have been expected,
and when some of her acquaintances joked her on
the subject, asking why she did not marry Durward herself,
she replied, as was very true, that “he knew and she
knew,” saying further, that there were some good things
about him, and she presumed he would be tolerably happy
with Cousin 'Lena, as they were somewhat alike!
Very naturally, too, she took to quoting and cousining
'Lena, while John Jr. seldom let an opportunity pass of
hinting at the very recent date of her admiration of Miss
Graham.
Almost every day for several weeks after Durward's
return, he looked for a visit from Joel Slocum, who, being
proverbially slow in his movements, did not make his
appearance until sometime toward the last of November.
Then he came in full dress, claiming, and proving, too,
his relationship with Mrs. Graham, who was terribly annoyed,
as a matter of course, and who, it was rumored,
at last hired him to leave! For the truth of this we cannot
vouch. We only know, that the morning after his departure,
Mr. Graham's pocket-book was minus some two
hundred dollars, and when he declared his intention of
investigating the case, his lady went into violent hysterics,
thereby inducing him to desist.
During the winter, nothing of importance occurred, if
we expect the fact that a part of Mabel's fortune, which
was supposed to have been lost, was found to be good,
and that John Jr. one day unexpectedly found himself to
Livingstone this circumstance produced a rather novel
effect, renewing, in its original force, all her old affection
for Mabel, who was now “our dear little Meb.” Many
were the comparisons drawn between Mrs. John Jr. No. 1,
and Mrs. John Jr. No. 2, that was to be, the former being
pronounced far more lady-like and accomplished than the
latter, who, during her frequent visits at Maple Grove,
continually startled her mother-in-law elect by her loud,
ringing laugh, for Nellie was now very happy. Her influence,
too, over John Jr. became, erelong, perceptible
in his quiet, gentle manner, and his abstinence from the
rude speeches which heretofore had almost seemed a part
of his nature.
Mrs. Graham had proposed spending the winter in New
Orleans, but to this Durward objected. He wanted
'Lena all to himself, he said, and as she seemed perfectly
satisfied to remain where she was, the project was given
up, Mrs. Graham contenting herself with anticipating the
splendid entertainment she would give at the wedding,
which was to take place about the last of March. Toward
the first of January the preparations began, and if
Carry had never before felt a pang of envy, she did now,
when she saw the elegant bridal trosseau which Mr. Graham
saw fit to purchase for his daughter. But all such feelings
must be concealed, and almost every day she rode
over to Woodlawn, admiring this, going into ecstasies
over that, and patronizingly giving her advice on all subjects,
while all the time her heart was swelling with its
heavy weight of bitter disappointment. Having always
felt so sure of securing Durward, she had invariably treated
other gentleman with such cool indifference that she
was a favorite with but few, and as she considered these
few greatly her inferiors, she had more than once felt a
on her tomb-stone should prove true!
“Anything but that,” said she, dashing away the angry
tears, as she thought how 'Lena had supplanted her in the
affections of the only person she could ever love.
“Old Marster Atherton done want to see you in the
parlor,” said Corinda, putting her woolly head in at the
door, and interrupting her young mistress' reflections.
Since his unfortunate affair with Anna, the captain had
rather avoided Maple Grove, but feeling lonely at Sunnyside,
he had come over this morning to call. Finding
Mrs. Livingstone absent, he had asked for Carrie, who
was so unusually gracious that the bachelor gentleman
wondered he had never before discovered how agreeable
and how greatly superior to her sister Carrie was! All
his favorite pieces were sung to him, and then, with the
patience of a martyr, the young lady seated herself at the
backgammon board, her special aversion, playing game
after game, until she could scarcely tell her men from his.
On his way home the captain fell into a curious train of
reflections touching his future, while Carrie, when asked
by Corinda, if “old marster was done gone,” sharply
reprimanded the negro girl, telling her “it was very impolite
to call anybody old, particularly one so young as
Captain Atherton!”
The next day the captain came again, and the next, and
the next, until at last his former intimacy at Maple Grove
seemed to be fully reëstablished. And all this time no
one had an inkling of the true state of things, not even
John Jr., who never dreamed it possible for his haughty,
beautiful sister, to grace Sunnyside as its mistress. “But
stranger things than that had happened and were happening
every day.” Thus reasoned Carrie as she sat alone
in her room, revolving the propriety or impropriety of
captain had that morning placed in her hand at parting.
She looked at herself in the long mirror. Her face was
fair, very fair, and as yet untouched by a single mark or
line. She thought of him, bald, wrinkled, fat and forty-six!
“No, I'll never do it,” she exclaimed, passionately,
tearing the note into fragments. “Better live single all
my days.”
At this moment, the handsome carriage of Mrs. Graham
drew up, and from it alighted 'Lena, richly clad in velvets
and costly furs. The sight of her produced a reaction,
and Carrie thought again. Captain Atherton was generous
to a fault. He was both able and willing to grant
her slightest wish, and as his wife, she could compete with,
if not outdo, 'Lena in the splendor of her surroundings.
The golden pen was resumed, and with a steady hand
Carrie Livingstone wrote the words which sealed her
destiny for life. This done, nothing could move her, and
though her father entreated, her mother scolded, and
John Jr. actually swore, it made no difference. “She was
old enough to choose for herself,” she said, “and she had
done so.”
When Mrs. Livingstone became convinced that her
daughter was in earnest, she gave up the contest, taking
sides with her, and saying she would not have it otherwise
if she could. Like Durward, Captain Atherton was
in a hurry, and as Carrie's chief desire was to be married
before 'Lena, thus preventing John Jr. from teasing her
about being left in the rear, it was decided that the wedding
should take place just one week before the time appointed
for that of her cousin. Determining not to be
outdone by Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Livingstone launched forth
on a large scale, and there commenced between the two
Did Mrs. Graham purchase for 'Lena a costly silk,
Mrs. Livingstone forthwith secured a piece of similar quality,
but different pattern, for Carrie. Did Mrs. Graham
order forty dollar's worth of confectionary, Mrs. Livingstone
immediately increased her order to fifty dollars.
And when it was known that Mrs Graham had engaged
a Louisville French cook at two dollars per day, Mrs. Livingstone
sent to Cincinnati, offering three dollars for one!
Carrie had decided upon a tour to Europe, and the
captain had given his consent, when it was currently reported
that Durward and 'Lena were also intending to
sail for Liverpool. In this dilemma there was no alternative
save a trip to California, or the Sandwich Islands!
The former was chosen, Captain Atherton generously offering
to defray Mrs. Livingstone's expenses if she would
accompany them. This plan Carrie warmly seconded, for
she knew her mother's presence would greatly relieve her
from the society of her husband, which was not as agreeable
to her as it ought to have been. But now a new obstacle
arose. Mr. Livingstone refused to let his wife go,
unless Anna could be persuaded to come home and remain
with him while she was gone.
Unwilling as Carrie was to meet her sister, under existing
circumstances, she, for the sake of her mother's
company, reluctantly consented, and her father accordingly
wrote to Anna, inviting her and Malcolm to be
present at Carrie's wedding, purposely omitting the name
of the bridegroom. A little fidgety, Captain Atherton
awaited the answer, which was that they would come, and
three days before the appointed time they were there.
It was dark when they arrived, and as they were not expected
that night, they entered the house ere any one was
aware of their presence. John Jr. chanced to be in the
arms, shouting so uproarously that his father and mother
at once hastened to the spot.
“Will you forgive me, father,” said Anna. “You would
if you knew how much I loved him—Malcolm—my husband.”
Mr. Livingstone replied by clasping her closer to his
bosom, while he extended his hand toward Malcolm, who,
proud as ever, had no forgiveness to ask. With a haughtiness
equal to her own, he returned the greeting of his
mother-in-law, who, after welcoming her daughter, turned
to him, saying, “she hoped he was well.”
“Where's Carrie?” asked Anna, and John Jr. replied,
“In the parlor, with her future spouse. Shall I introduce
you?”
So saying, he dragged her into the parlor, where she
recoiled almost in terror as she saw Captain Atherton, sitting
much nearer to Carrie than he had ever sat to her!
“Oh, Carrie!” she exclaimed, “It is impossible. It
cannot be—that I see you again!” she added, as she
met her sister's warning look.
Another moment and they were in each other's arms,
weeping bitterly, the one that her only sister should thus
wantonly throw herself away, and the other, she scarcely
knew why, only she was wretched. It was but for an
instant, however, and then Carrie was herself again.
Playfully presenting Anna to her future brother-in-law,
she said, “Ain't I good to take up with what you left!”
But no one smiled at this joke—the captain, least of all,
and as Carrie glanced from him to the noble, manly form of
Malcolm, she felt that her sister had made a happy choice.
The next day 'Lena came, overjoyed to meet Anna, who,
since the night of her elopement, had looked upon her
any one else, rejoiced in her good fortune.
“You deserve it all,” said she, when they were alone,
and if Carrie only had one tithe of your happiness in store,
I should be satisfied.”
But Carrie asked for no sympathy, would receive none.
“It was no one's business whom she married,” she said,
“if she only suited herself;” and so one pleasant night in
the early spring, when the new moon hung like a silver
thread in the western sky, and the shining stars from
their far-off homes looked sadly down upon her, they
decked her in her bridal robes, arranged the fall of her
flowing veil, placed the orange wreath among the heavy
braids of her hair, and then, white, cold, and feelingless
as a marble statue, she laid her hand in Captain Atherton's,
and in a calm, unwavering voice took upon her the
vows which made her his forever. It was a grand affair,
outrivaling anything which had been seen in the country
for a long time, but Mrs. Graham smiled complacently,
thinking how she would outdo it all. A few days after
the ceremony, Carrie, already grown weary of her
new position, began to urge their immediate departure for
California.
“There was no need of further delay,” she said. “No
one cared to see 'Lena married. Weddings were stupid
things, anyway, and her mother could just as well go one
time as another.”
At first Mrs. Livingstone hesitated, but when the bride
of four days burst into a passionate fit of weeping, declaring
“she'd kill herself if she had to stay much longer at
Sunnyside and be petted by that old fool,” she consented,
and one week from the day of their marriage they started.
In Carrie's eyes there was already a look of weary sadness,
which said that the bitter tears were constantly
if Sunnyside were a greater burden than she could bear.
But the elegance of her traveling costume in a measure
consoled her, and when she was repeatedly mistaken for
the daughter of her portly spouse, she thought of his great
wealth, and gathered what comfort she could from that.
Alas, for a union without love! It seldom fails to end
in misery, and thus, when all too late, poor Carrie found
it. Her husband was proud of her, and had she permitted,
would have loved her after his fashion, but to use her own
words, “the very sight of him was hateful,” and his affectionate
advances were invariably repulsed, until at last he
treated her with a cold politeness, far more endurable
than his fawning attentions had been. She was welcome
to go her own way, and he went his, each having in San
Francisco their own suite of rooms, Carrie's being with
her mother, and each setting up, as it were, a separate
establishment. In this way they got on quite comfortably
for a few weeks, at the end of which time Carrie took it
into her capricious head to return home, to Maple Grove.
She would never go back to Sunnyside, she said. And
without a word of opposition the captain picked up his
things, paid his bills, and started for Kentucky, leaving
his wife at Maple Grove, she giving as a reason that “ma
could not spare her yet.”
Far different from this were the future prospects of
Durward and 'Lena, who with perfect love in their hearts
were made one, a week after the departure of Captain
Atherton for California. In the style of her dress 'Lena
had followed the dictates of her own good taste, rather
than the wishes of Mrs. Graham, and the assembled guests
unanimously pronounced her the most beautiful bride
they had ever seen. Very proudly Durward looked down
upon her as he placed the first husband's kiss on her pure,
tears, which she raised to his face, there was a world of
tenderness, telling that theirs was a union of hearts as
well as hands.
“Nellie and Anna—John Jr. and Malcolm, were bridesmaids
and groomsmen, Anna being arrayed in the same
white satin and embroidered lace which had been destined
for the bride of Captain Atherton. But far better
they became the fair wife of Malcolm Everett, who laughingly
proposed that they be married over, as he led her to
the crowded drawing-rooms. Mrs. Graham was in her
element, for many whispered remarks reached her ears
concerning the superiority of her entertainment to that
of Mrs. Livingstone, who unfortunately was not present
to be mortified by her triumph.
The next night a smaller party assembled at the house of
Mr. Douglass, in Frankfort, proceeding thence to the Episcopal
church, where Nellie was soon transformed into
Nellie Livingstone. Perhaps it was the remembrance of
the frail young girl to whom his vows had once before
been plighted that made John Jr. so unusually serious,
appearing for a time as if he were in a dream. But the
moment they rallied him upon the strangeness of his manner,
he brightened up, saying he was trying to get used
to thinking that Nellie was really his. It had been decided
that he should accompany Durward and 'Lena to
Europe, and a day or two after his marriage he asked Mr.
Everett to go, too. Anna's eyes fairly danced with joy,
for of all things, a tour to Italy, and with Malcolm, too,
was in her estimation the very best. But much as her
husband would like to go, he could not afford it, and so
he frankly said, kissing away the big tear which rolled
down Anna's cheek.
With a peculiar smile John Jr. placed a sealed package
all this and provided for it. “I suppose you are aware
that Mabel generously willed me all her property, which,
contrary to our expectations, has proved to be considerable.
I know I do not deserve a cent of it, but as she had
no nearer relative than Mr. Douglass, I have concluded
to use it for the comfort of his daughter and for the good
of others. I wan't you and Anna to join us, and I've
given her such a sum as will bear your expenses, and leave
you more than you can earn dickering at law for three or
four years. So, puss,” turning to Anna, “it's all settled,
and do you go and buy all those dresses you've thought
of by this time. We can wait a week or two, until they
are made, and then, hurrah for the sunny skies of France
and Italy. I've talked with father about it, and he's willing
to stay alone for the sake of having you go. Oh, don't
thank me,” he continued, retreating toward the door, as
he saw them about to speak. “It makes me ashamed.
Besides that, it's poor little Meb to whom you are indebted.
She loved Anna, and would willingly have her money
used for this purpose.”
After a little reflection Malcolm concluded to accept
John's offer, and a happier, more merry party never stepped
on board a steamer than that which, on the 15th of April,
sailed for Europe, which they reached in safety, being at
the last accounts in Paris, where Durward's high English
blood had already procured for them an acquaintance with
the emperor and empress, 'Lena having come to the honor
of actually kissing the Prince of Algiers, while Nellie and
Anna contented themselves with a look at the dress of the
royal infant, John Jr. slily bidding them take pattern!
A few words more, and our story is told. Just as Mr.
Livingstone was getting tolerably well suited with his
bachelor life, he was one morning surprised by the return
before stated, took up her abode at Maple Grove. Almost
every day the old captain rides over to see her, but
he generally carries back a longer face than he brings.
The bald spot on his head is growing larger, and to her
utter dismay Carrie has discovered a “crow track” in the
corner of her eye. Frequently, after a war of words with
her mother, which occurs oftener than it ought, she announces
her intention of repairing forthwith to Sunnyside,
but a sight of the captain on his cream-colored horse is
sufficient to banish all such thoughts. And thus she lives,
that most wretched of all beings, an unloving and unloved
wife.
During the absence of their children, Mr. and Mrs. Graham
remain at Woodlawn, which, as it is the property of
Durward, will be his own and 'Lena's home, his parents
going back to Louisville.
Jerry Langley has changed his occupation of driver for
that of a brakeman on the railroad between Canandaigua
and Niagara Falls, where he is the unfailing friend of all
the halt, blind, maimed, and lazy, who call on him for aid.
In conclusion, we will say of our old friend, Uncle
Timothy, that he joined “the Hindews” as proposed, was
nominated for constable, and, sure of success, bought an
old gig for the better transportation of himself over the
town. But alas for human hopes—particularly if founded
upon politics—the whole American ticket was defeated
at Laurel Hill, since which time he has gone over to the
Republicans, swearing eternal allegiance to them, provided
they procure for him the desired office, and denouncing
his quondam brethren as Know Nothings in reality.
| CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONCLUSION. 'Lena Rivers | |