 | CHAPTER XIX. The Morgesons |  |
19. CHAPTER XIX.
Alice and I were preparing for the first ball, when Charles
came home, having been absent several weeks. The conservatory
was finished, and looked well, jutting from the garden-room,
The flowers and plants it was filled with, were more fragrant
and beautiful, than rare. I never saw him look so genial as
when he inspected it with us. Alice was in good humor, also;
for he had brought her a set of jewels.
“Is it not her birth-day,” he said, when he gave her the
jewel-case, “or something, that I can give Cassandra this?”
taking a little box from his pocket.
“Oh yes,” said Alice; “show it to us.”
“Will you have it?” he asked me.
I held out my hand, and he put on the third finger a diamond
ring, which was like a star.
“How well it looks on your long hand!” said Alice.
“What unsuspected tastes I find I have!” I said. “I am
passionately fond of rings: this delights me.”
His swarthy face flushed with pleasure at my words; but
according to his wont, he said nothing.
A few days after his return, a man came into the yard, leading
a powerful horse chafing in his halter, which he took to the
stable. Charles asked me to look at a new purchase he had
made in Pennsylvania. The strange man was lounging about
the stalls when we went in, inspecting the horses with a knowing
air.
“I declare, Sir,” said Jesse, “I am afeared to tackle this
ere animal; he's a reglar brute, and no mistake.”
“He'll be tame enough; he is but four years old.”
“He's never been in a carriage,” said the man.
“Lead him out, will you?”
The man obeyed. The horse was a fine creature, black, and
thick-maned; but the whites of his eyes were not clear; they
were streaked with red, and he attempted continually to turn
his nostrils inside out. Altogether, I thought him diabolical.
“What's the matter with his eyes?” Charles asked.
“I thinks, Sir,” the man replied, “as how they got inflamed
like, in the boat coming from York. It's nothing perticalar, I
believe.”
Alice declared it was too bad, when she heard there was
another horse in the stable. She would not look at him, and
said she would never ride with Charles when he drove him.
I had been taking lessons of Professor Simpson, and was
ready for the Ball. All the girls from the Academy were going
in white, except Helen, who was to wear pink silk. It was
to be a Military Ball, and strangers were expected. Ben Somers,
and our Rosville beaux, were of course to be there, all in
he said,—silk stockings, pumps, and a white cravat.
We were dressed by nine o'clock, Alice in black velvet, with
a wreath of flowers in her black hair—I in a light blue velvet
boddice, and white silk skirt. We were waiting for the Ball
hack to come for us, as that was the custom, for no one owned
a close coach in Rosville, when Charles brought in some splendid
scarlet flowers which he gave to Alice.
“Where are Cassandra's?”
“She does not care for flowers; besides, she would throw
them away on her first partner.”
He put us in the coach, and went back. I was glad he did
not come with us, and gave myself up to the excitement of my
first Ball. Alice was surrounded by her acquaintance at once,
and I was asked to dance a quadrille by Mr. Parker, whose
gloves were much too large, and whose white trowsers were
much too long.
“I kept the flower you gave me,” he said in a breathless
way.
“Oh yes, I remember; mustn't we forward now?”
“Mr. Morgeson's very fond of flowers.”
“So he is. How de do, Miss Ryder?”
Miss Ryder, my vis-a-vis, bowed, looking scornfully at my
partner, who was only a clerk, while hers was a law student.
I immediately turned to Mr. Parker with affable smiles, and
went into a kind of dumb show of conversation, which made
him warm and uncomfortable. Mrs. Judge Ryder sailed by,
on Ben Somers's arm.
“Put your shoulders down,” she whispered to her daughter,
who had poked one very much out of her dress. “My love,”
she spoke aloud, “you mustn't dance every set.”
“No, ma,” and she passed on, Ben giving a faint cough, for
my benefit. We could not find Alice after the dance was over.
A brass band alternated with the quadrille band, and it played
so loudly that we had to talk at the top of our voices to be
heard. Mine soon gave out, and I begged Mr. Parker to bring
Helen, for I had not yet seen her. She was with Dr. White,
who had dropped in to see the miserable spectacle. The air,
he said, shaking his finger at me, was already miasmal; it
would be infernal by midnight. Christians ought not to be
there. “Go home early, Miss. Your mother never went to a
Ball, I'll warrant.”
“We are wiser than our mothers.”
“And wickeder; you will send for me to-morrow.”
“Your Valenciennes lace excruciates the Ryders,” said
Helen. “I was standing near Mrs. Judge Ryder, and the
girls, just now. `Did you ever see such an upstart?' And,
`What an extravagant dress she has on—it is ridiculous,' Josephine
Ryder said. When Ben Somers heard this attack on
you, he told them that your lace was an heir-loom. Here
he is.”
Mr. Parker took her away for the next quadrille; Ben Somers
went in pursuit of a place where there was a seat. The
quadrille was over; I was engaged for the next, and he had
not come back. I saw nothing of him till the country dance
before supper. He was at the foot of the long line, opposite a
pretty girl in blue, looking very solemn and stately. I took
off the glove from the hand which wore the new diamond, and
held it up, expecting him to look my way soon. Its flash caught
his eyes, as they roamed up and down, and, as I again expected,
he left his place and came behind me.
“Where did you get that ring?” wiping his face with his
handkerchief.
“Ask Alice.”
“You are politic.”
“Handsome, is n't it?
“And valuable; it cost as much as the new horse.”
“Have you made a memorandum of it?”
“Destiny has brilliant spokes in her wheel, hasn't she?”
“Is that from the Greek tragedies?”
“To your places, gentlemen,” the floor manager called, and
the band struck up the Fisher's Hornpipe. At supper, I saw
Ben Somers, still with the pretty girl in blue; but he came to
my chair to ask me if I did not think she was a pretty toy for
a man to play with.
“How much wine have you drank? Enough to do justice
to the family annals?”
“Really, you have been well informed. No, I have not
drank enough for that; but Mrs. Ryder has sent her virgins
home without me. I am afraid their lamps are upset again. I
drink nothing after to-night. You shall not ask again, `How
much.'”
My fire was out when I reached home. My head was burning
and aching. I was too tired to untwist my hair, and I pulled
and dragged at my dress, which seemed to have a hundred
fastenings. Creeping into bed, I perceived the odor of
flowers, and looking at my table discovered a bunch of white
roses.
“Roses are nonsense, and life is nonsense,” I thought.
When I opened my eyes, Alice was standing by the bed,
with the glass of roses in her hand.
“Charles put these roses here, hey?'
“I suppose so; throw them out of the window, and me too;
my head is splitting.”
“To make amends for not giving you any last night,”
she went on; “he is quite childish.”
“Can't you unbraid my hair, it hurts my head so.”
She felt my hands. I was in a fever, she said, and ran down
for Charles. “Cass is sick, in spite of your white roses.”
“The devil take the roses. Can't you get up, Cassandra?”
“Not now. Go away, will you?”
He went abruptly. Alice loosened my hair, bound my head
with a wet towel, and poured cologne-water over me, lamenting
all the while that she had not brought me home with her; and
then went down for some tea, presently returning to say that
Charles had been for Dr. White, who said he would not come.
But he was there shortly afterwards. By night I was well again.
Dr. Price gave us a lecture on late hours that week, requesting
us, if we had any interest in our education, or expected
him to have any, to abstain from Balls.
Ben Somers disappeared; no one knew where he had gone.
The Ryders were in consternation, for he was an inmate of the
family, since he had gone into Judge Ryder's office, six weeks
before. He returned, however, with a new overcoat trimmed
with fur, the same as that with which my new cloak was
trimmed. A great snow storm began the day of his return,
and blocked us in doors for several days, and we had permanent
sleighing afterwards.
In January it was proposed that we should go to the Swan
Tavern, ten miles out of Rosville.
I had made good resolutions since the Ball, and declined going
to the second, which came off three weeks afterwards The
truth was, I did not enjoy the first; but I preferred to give
my decision a virtuous tinge. I also determined to leave the
Academy when the spring came, for I was no school girl. But
for Helen, I could not have remained as I did. She staid for
pastime now, she confessed, it was so dull at home; her father
was wrapped in his studies, and she had a step-mother. I resolved
again that I would study more, and was translating,
in view of this resolve, “Corinne,” with Miss Prior, and singing
sedulously with Mrs. Lane, and had begun a course of reading
with Dr. Price.
I refused two invitations to join the sleighing party, and on
the night it was to be had prepared to pass the evening in my
own room with Oswald and Corinne. Before the fire, with
lighted candles, I heard a ringing of bells in the yard, and a
stamping of feet on the piazza. Alice sent up for me. I
found Ben Somers with her, who begged me to take a seat in
his sleigh. Helen was there, and Amelia Bancroft. Alice applauded
me for refusing him; but when he whispered in
my ear, that he had been to Surrey, I changed my mind. She
assisted me with cheerful alacrity to put on a merino dress—
its color was purple, a color I hate now, and never wear—and
wrapped me warmly. Charles appeared before we started.
“Are you really going?” he asked, in a tone of displeasure.
“She is really going,” Ben answered for me. “Mr.
and Mrs. Bancroft are going,” Helen said. “Why not drive
out with Mrs. Morgeson?”
“The night is splendid,” Ben remarked.
“Won't you come?” I asked.
“If Alice wishes it. Will you go?” he asked her.
“Would you?” she inquired of all, and all replied, “Yes.”
We started in advance. Helen and Amelia were packed on
the back seat, in a Buffalo robe, while Ben and I sat in the
shelter of the driver's box, wrapped in another. It was moon-light,
and as we passed the sleighs of the rest of the party, exchanging
greetings, we grew very merry. Ben, voluble and
airy, enlivened us by his high spirits.
We were drinking mulled wine round the long pine dinner-table
of the Swan, when Charles and Alice arrived. There
were about thirty in the room, which was lighted with tallow
candles. When he entered, it seemed as if the candles suddenly
required snuffing, and we ceased to laugh. All spoke to
him with respect, but with an inflection of the voice which denoted
that he was not one of us. As he carelessly passed
round the table all made a movement as he approached, scraping
their chairs on the bare floor, moving their glass of mulled
wine, or altering the position of their arms or legs. An indescribable
appreciation of the impression which he made upon
others filled my heart. His isolation from the sympathy
of every person there, gave me a pain and a pity, and for the
first time I felt a pang of tenderness, and a throe of pride for
him. But Alice, upon whom he never made any impression,
saw nothing of this; her gayety soon removed the stiffness and
silence his appearance had created. The party grew noisy
again, except Ben, who had not broken the silence into which
him untouched. I moved to the corner of the table, to
allow room for the chair which Charles was turning towards
me. Ben ordered more wine, and sent a glass full to him.
Taking it from the boy who brought it, I gave it to him.
“Drink,” I said. My voice sounded strangely. Barely tasting
it, he set the glass down, and leaning his arm on the table,
turned his face to me, shielding it with his hand from the gaze
of those about us. I pushed away a candle that flared in our
faces.
“You never drink wine?”
“No.”
“How was the ride down?”
“Delightful.”
“What about the new horse?”
“He is an awful brute.”
“When shall we have a ride with him?”
“When you please.”
The boy asked us, would you please go to the parlor; our
room was wanted for supper. An immediate rush, with loud
laughing took place, near the parlor fire; but Charles and I did
not move. I was busy re-making the bow of my purple silk
cravat.
“`I drink the cup of a costly death,'” Ben hummed, as he
sauntered along by us, hands in his pockets—the last in the
room, except us two.
“Indeed, Somers; perhaps you would like this too.” And
he offered him his glass of wine.
Ben took it, and with his thumb and finger snapped it off at
the stem, and tipped the wine over Charles's hand.
I saw it staining his wristband, like blood. He did not
stir, but a slight smile travelled swiftly over his face.
“I know Veronica,” said Ben. “Has this man seen
her?”
I was crushed. What a barrier his expression of contempt
made between her and me!
Withal I felt a humiliating sense of defeat.
Charles read me.
As he folded his wristband under his sleeve, carefully and
slowly, his slender fingers did not tremble with the desire that
possessed him, which I saw in his terrible eyes, asking me,
“Shall I kill him?”
An involuntary groan burst from me.
“Somers,” he said, rising, and tapping him on the shoulder;
“behave like a man, and let us alone. I love this girl.”
His face glowed, pale as it was; his eyes softened, and mine
filled with tears.
“Cassandra,” urged Ben in a gentle voice, “come with me;
come away.”
“Fool,” I answered; “let me alone. Go out.”
He hesitated, and then obeyed, turning at the door, and again
urging, “Come.”
“Go, go,” stamping my foot. The door closed without a
sound.
“Now Charles, we”— A horrible taste came into my
mouth; I put my handkerchief to my lips, and wiped away
streaks of blood. “Look at this.”
“It is nothing, by God!” And he snatched the handkerchief.
“Take mine.” But he looked agitated, and I felt dizzy.
“We must go back,” I said. That fact was an imperative
one, important before all others, even if I were dying.
“Be quiet.”
He opened the window softly, and took from the sill a handfull
of snow, which I swallowed, and which revived me.
“Do you hear me?” I said. “Never say those frightful
words again. Never, — never—never.”
“Never, if it must be so.”
He touched my hand; I opened it, and his closed over mine.
A heavy throb went through all my frame, and I swayed
towards him; but he held me from him, with his firm grasp.
“Go now,” he said, and springing to the window, threw it
up, and jumped out. The boy came in with a table cloth on
his arm, and behind him Ben.
“Glass broken, sir.”
“Put it in the bill.”
He offered me his arm, which I was glad to take.
“Where is Charles?” Alice asked, when we went in
“He has just left us,” Ben answered; “looking after his
horses probably.”
“Of course,” she replied. “You look blue, Cass. Here,
take my chair by the fire; we are going to dance a Virginia
reel.”
I accepted her offer, and was thankful that the dance would
take them away. I wanted to be alone forever. Helen glided
behind my chair, and laid her hand on my shoulder; I shook
it off.
“What is the matter, Cass?”
“I am going away from Ros— school.”
“We are all going; but not to-night.”
“I am going to-night.”
“So you shall, dear; but wait till after supper.”
“Do you think, Helen, that I shall ever have consumption?”
fumbling for my handkerchief, forgetting in whose possession
it was. But Charles came in at that instant, and I remembered
that he had it.
“What on earth has happened to you? Oh!” she exclaimed.
I looked at her. “You were out there with Morgeson
and Ben Somers,” she whispered; “something has occurred;
what is it?”
“You shall never know; never—never—never.”
“Cassandra, that man is a devil.”
“I like devils.”
“The same blood rages in both of you.”
“It's mulled wine,—thick and stupid.”
“Pooh.”
“Will there be tea, at supper?”
“You shall have some”
“Ask Ben to order it.”
“Heaven forgive us all!”
“Remember the tea.”
Charles stood near his wife; wherever she moved afterwards
he moved. I saw it, and felt that it was the shadow of something
which would follow.
At last the time came for us to return. Helen had plied
me with tea, and was otherwise watchful, but scarcely spoke.
“It is an age,” I said, “since I left Rosville.”
She raised her eyebrows merely, and asked me if I would
have more tea.
“In my room,” I thought, “I shall find my self again.” And
as I opened my door, it welcomed me with so friendly and
silent an aspect, that I betrayed my grief, and it covered my
misery as with a cloak.
| CHAPTER XIX. The Morgesons | |