Alida Part 6

He could not consent to disturb the happy tranquillity of his parents by reciting his own wretchedness. He pa.s.sed a week with them. He saw them once more comfortably seated at a calm retreat in he country; he saw them serenely blest in the pleasures of returning peace, and a ray of joy illumined his troubled bosom.

"Again the youth his wonted life regain'd, A transient sparkle in his eye obtain'd, A bright, impa.s.sion'd, cheering glow express'd The pleas'd sensation of his tender breast: But soon dark gloom the feeble smiles o'erspread; Like morn's gay hues, the fading splendours fled; Returning anguish froze his feeling soul; Deep sighs burst forth, and tears began to roll!"

His memory dwelt on Alida, from whom he had heard nothing since he had last seen her. He thought of the difficulties with which he was surrounded. He thought of the barriers which were now opposed to their happiness; and he immediately set out for the house of Raymond. He arrived at his residence near the close of the day. Raymond and his lady were at tea, with several young ladies that had pa.s.sed the afternoon there. Theodore cast an active glance at the company, in hopes to see Alida among them, but she was not there. He was invited, and took a seat at table.

After tea was over, Raymond led Theodore into an adjoining room. "You have come in good time," said he. "Something speedily must be done, or you lose Alida forever. The day after you were here, her father received a letter from Bonville, in which, after mentioning the circ.u.mstances of your father's insolvency, he hinted that the consequence would probably be a failure of her proposed marriage with you, which might essentially injure the reputation of a lady of her standing in life; to prevent which, and to place her beyond the reach of calumny, he offered to marry her at any appointed day, provided he had her free consent. As Bonville, by the recent death of his father, had been put in possession of a splendid fortune, the proposition might possibly allure the father of Alida, to use his endeavour to bring his daughter to yield implicit obedience to his wishes. Were he to command her to live single, it might be endured; but if he should endeavour to persuade her to discard you from her thoughts entirely, and to give her hand to a person she could have no esteem for, would be to perjure those principles of truth and justice, which he himself had ever taught her to hold most inviolable.

To add to Alida's distress, Bonville arrived there yesterday, and, I hope in some measure to alleviate it, Albert, her brother, came this morning. Mrs. Raymond has despatched a message to inform Alida of your arrival, and to desire her to come here immediately. She will undoubtedly comply with the invitation, if not prevented by something extraordinary."

Mrs. Raymond now came to the door of the room, and beckoned to her husband, who went out, but soon returned, leading in Alida, after which he retired. "Oh, Theodore," was all she could say, her further utterance was interrupted by her tears. Theodore led her to a seat, and overcome by sadness was unable to speak. Recovering at length, he begged her to moderate her grief.

"Where," said he, "is your fort.i.tude, and your firmness, Alida, which I have so often seen triumphing over affliction?" Her extreme anguish prevented a reply. Theodore endeavoured to console her, though consolation was a stranger to his own breast.

"Let us not," said he, "increase our flood of affliction by a tide of useless sorrow. Perhaps more prosperous days are yet in reserve for us; happiness may yet be ours. Heaven cannot desert Alida," said Theodore; "as well might it desert its angels. This th.o.r.n.y path may lead to fair fields of light and verdure. Tempests are succeeded by calms; wars end in peace; the splendours of the brightest morning arise on the wings of blackest midnight. Troubles will not always last."

The grief which had almost overwhelmed Alida, now began to subside, as the waves of the ocean gradually cease their tumultuous commotion after the turbulent winds are laid asleep. Deep and long drawn sighs succeeded. The irritation of her feelings had caused a more than usual glow upon her cheek which faded away as she became composed, until a livid paleness spread itself over her features.

Raymond and his lady now came into the room. They strenuously urged the propriety and necessity for Theodore and Alida to enter into the bands of matrimony.

"The measure would be hazardous," remarked Alida. "My circ.u.mstances,"

said Theodore. "Not on that account," interrupted Alida, "but the displeasure of my father."

"Come here, Alida, to-morrow evening," said Mrs. Raymond. "In the mean time you will consider the matter and then determine." To this Alida a.s.sented and prepared to return home.

Theodore attended her as far as the gate which opened into the yard surrounding the dwelling. It was dangerous for him to go further, lest he should be discovered even by a domestic of the family. He stood here awhile looking anxiously after Alida as she walked up the avenue, her white robes now invisible, now dimly seen, until they were totally obscured, mingling with the gloom and darkness of the night, ere she reached the door of her father's mansion.

"Thus," said Theodore, "fades the angel of peace from the visionary eyes of the war-worn soldier, when it ascends in the dusky clouds of early morning, while he slumbers on the field of recent battle." With mournful forebodings he returned to the house of his friend. After pa.s.sing a sleepless night, he arose and walked out into an adjoining field; he stood for some time, leaning, in deep contemplation, against a tree, when he heard quick footsteps behind him. He turned around, and saw Albert approaching. In a moment they were in each other's arms, and mingled tears. They soon returned to Raymond's where they conversed largely on present affairs.

"I have discoursed with my father on the subject," said Albert; "I have urged him with every possible argument, to relinquish his determination to keep you and Alida separate. I fear, however, he is inflexible."

"To endeavour to a.s.suage the grief which rent Alida's bosom was my next object, and in this I trust I have not been unsuccessful. You will see her this evening, and will find her more calm and resigned. You, Theodore, must exert your fort.i.tude. The ways of Heaven are inscrutable, but they are right. We must acquiesce in its dealings; we cannot alter its decrees. Resignation to its will, whether merciful or afflictive, is one of those eminent virtues which adorn the good man's character, and will ever find a brilliant reward in the regions of unsullied happiness."

Albert told Theodore that circ.u.mstances compelled him that day to return to the city. "I would advise you," said he, "to remain here until your affair comes to some final issue. It must, I think, ere long, be terminated. Perhaps you and my sister may yet be happy."

Theodore feelingly expressed his grat.i.tude to Albert. He found in him that disinterested friendship which his early youth had experienced.

Albert the same day departed for New-York.

The shades of night came on almost insensibly, as Theodore was anxiously expecting Alida. He antic.i.p.ated the consolation her presence would bestow. Albert had told him she was more composed. The evening pa.s.sed on, but she came not.

Raymond a.s.sured him she would soon be there. He paced the room, and then walked out on the way whither she was expected to come. He hesitated some time whether to advance or return. It was possible, though not probable, that she might have come some other way. He hastened back to the house of his friend; she had not arrived.

"Something extraordinary," said Mrs. Raymond, "has undoubtedly prevented her coming. Perhaps she is ill." Theodore shuddered at the suggestion.

He looked at his watch: it was past twelve o'clock. Again he hastily sallied out and took the road to her father's. The night was exceedingly dark, being illuminated only by the feeble glimmering of the twinkling stars. When he came within sight of the house, and as he drew near, no lights were visible, all was still and silent. He entered the yard, walked up the avenue, and approached the door. A solemn stillness prevailed around, interrupted only by the discordance of nightly insects. The dwelling was shrouded in darkness. In Alida's room no gleam of light appeared.

"They are all buried in sleep," said Theodore, deeply sighing, and I have only to return in disappointment.

Theodore now withdrew slowly from the place, and repa.s.sed the way he came. As he went back through the garden, he found a person standing at the foot of it, near the road. After a moment's scrutiny, he perceived it to be Bonville.

"What, my chevalier, why are you here?" said he to Theodore. "Hast thou, then, eluded the watchful eyes of Argus, and the vigilance of the dragon?"

"Unfeeling and impertinent intruder!" retorted Theodore, "dost thou add impudence to thy interference? Go," said he, "you are unworthy of my anger. Pursue thy grovelling schemes. Strive to win to your arms a lady who must ever continue to despise you."

"Theodore," replied Bonville, "You and I were rivals in the pursuit for the hand of Alida. Whether from freak or fortune the preference was given to you, I know not; and I retired in silence. From coincidence of circ.u.mstances, I think she will now be induced to give the preference to me, especially after her prospects of connecting with you are cut off by the events which ruined your fortune. You, Theodore, have yet, I find, to learn the character of woman. It has been my particular study. Alida, now ardently impa.s.sioned by first impressions, irritated by recent disappointment, her feelings delicate and vivid, her affections animated, it would be strange if she could suddenly relinquish premature attachments founded on such premises. But remove her from your presence one year, with only distant and uncertain prospects of seeing you again, admit me as the subst.i.tute in your absence, and she accepts my hand as freely as she would now receive yours. I had no design. It never was my wish to marry her without her free consent;--that I believe I shall yet obtain. Under existing circ.u.mstances it is impossible but that you must be separated. Then, when cool deliberation succeeds to the wild vagaries of fancy, she will discover the dangerous precipice to which her present inclinations lead. She will prefer indifference and splendour to love and a cottage. At present I relinquish all further pursuit; to-morrow I shall return home. When Alida, from calm deliberation, and the advice of friends, shall freely consent to yield me her hand, I shall return to receive it. I came from my lodgings this evening to declare these intentions to her father; but it being later than I was aware of, the family had gone to rest. I was about to return, but, looking back again at the house, to see if I could descry a light, I stood a moment by the garden gate, when you approached and discovered me." So saying, he bade Theodore good night, and walked hastily away.

"I find he knows not the character of Alida," said Theodore, as he pursued his way to Raymond's. When he arrived at the house of his friend, he related all that had pa.s.sed between himself and Bonville; and from what he related, the Raymonds concluded that Alida must be watched and guarded.

CHAPTER XIII.

Friendship! thou sovereign balm of every care.

When all serene and placidly appear; Domestic happiness! of that possessed, Then may we leave to Providence the rest.

The father of Alida now thought proper to enter into a second marriage.

A lady of worth and understanding had wrought upon his fancy, and won his particular regards. Her elegance of manner and dignified deportment engaged general attention; and although she was rather advanced in life, yet "the remains of former beauty were still visible in her appearance."

She was honourably descended from English parents, who had resided in New-York since the revolution. Her father had been actively engaged in business there, which had been ultimately crowned with the successful gifts of fortune.

Her education had been governed by the strictness of the English discipline. A foundation laid in early piety continued to influence her mind with unaffected ardour, blended with a generous benevolence, the genuine effects of the inexhaustible goodness of her heart. She was one who manifested to the world that a "doer of good" is far preferable to any other character, and in a superlative degree above those who maintain high principles in theory, without ever once reducing them to practice.

This lady had an only sister, who married a native of Ireland, and after the course of a few years went to reside there, where she had recently died. The children returned to this country, having lost their father long before, and several of her nephews now resided in the city. Having been always accustomed to reside in town herself, where her many excellent qualities had endeared her to numerous friends and acquaintances, who would now feel themselves lost without her society, therefore the parents of Alida formed the conclusion to pa.s.s their winters in the city, and return to the country in the summer season.

In the mean time, Alida's father thought the event fortunate, and was pleased at this time to remove his daughter from the place where the late scenes appeared so trying and afflictive, with the hope that in mingling her with the gay world she would in a while forget Theodore, while he in his turn would be induced to leave the neighbourhood.

It was now at that season when weary summer had lapsed into the fallow arms of autumn, and was approaching to the chilly breezes of winter. The morning was clear, and the light gales bore invigorating coolness on their wings as they tremulously agitated the foliage of the western forest, or fluttered among the branches of the trees that surrounded the mansion. The green splendours of the lawn had faded into a yellow l.u.s.tre; the flowery verdure of the fields was changed to a russet hue.

A robin chirped in a favourite tree in the yard; a wren chattered beneath, while some few solitary birds still continued to warble their notes among the leaves of the aspen.

The surrounding groves partially rung with melody; while deep in the adjacent wilderness the woodp.e.c.k.e.r, hammering on some dry and blasted trees, filled the woods with reverberant echoes.

The face of the Sound was ruffled by the lingering breezes, as they idly wandered over its surface. Long Island was thinly enveloped in smoky vapour; scattered along its sh.o.r.es lay the numerous small craft, with larger ships, of the hostile fleet. A few skiffs were pa.s.sing and re-pa.s.sing the Sound. Several American war-sloops lay on a point which jutted out from the mainland into the river.

Alida walked leisurely around the yard, contemplating the various beauties of the scene, the images of departed joys (that she was now about to leave). The days when Theodore partic.i.p.ated with her in admiring the splendours of rural prospect, raised in her bosom the sigh of deep regret. She entered the garden, and traced the walks, now overgrown with weeds and tufted gra.s.s. The flower-beds were choked with the low running brambles, and tall rushes and daisies had usurped the empire of the kitchen garden. The viny arbour was princ.i.p.ally gone to decay, and the eglantine blushed mournfully along the fences.

Alida continued to walk the garden until the servant informed her that the carriage was waiting to take her to the city.

Although they set out rather late in the day, they arrived in town some hours before sunset. They drove immediately to their dwelling, which was situated in a pleasant part of Greenwich-street, near the Battery.

Alida, after she had thrown off her travelling apparel, seated herself by the window in silence. Her mind was absorbed in deep reflection and thoughtfulness. She watched the slow declining sun, as it was sinking beneath the horizon. Pensive twilight spread her misty mantle over the landscape. The western sky glowed with the spangles of evening; deepening glooms advanced. The last beam of day faded from the view, and all was enveloped in night. Innumerable stars glittered in the firmament, intermingling their quivering l.u.s.tre with the pale splendours of the milky way.

When Alida was summoned to tea, her parents made various observations to endeavour to amuse her thoughts, and draw her from her taciturnity.

After tea she again returned to the window, where she sat till a late hour, apparently in deep meditation, till at length growing weary and restless, she retired to her room.

As she had for several nights in succession slept but little, she soon fell into a slumber, and did not awake till near the dawn of day. She did not close her eyes again to sleep. Daylight soon appeared, and the cheerful sun darting his enlivening rays through the windows of this antique mansion, recovered her exhausted spirits, and dissipated, in some measure, the cheerless reflections that still continued to hover about her imagination.

She arose, and went down to breakfast with spirits somewhat revived, and changed to a temporary resignation to past events and recent occurrences. A thought impressed her mind which gave her new consolation.