Beulah Part 51

"Well, I shan't go, that is all."

"Oh, you are not expected, sir," laughed Georgia, brushing the gray locks from his ample forehead.

"Not expected, eh? Does your lady mother contemplate leaving me to discuss my dinner in doleful solitude?"

"No, mother has gone with Mrs. Rallston to see about some poor, starving family in the suburbs. She will be back soon, I dare say.

Mrs. Delmont has sent her carriage, and Helen is waiting for me; so I must go. Beulah, I am very sorry, we have been cut out of our practicing. Don't go home; stay with mother to-day, and when I come back we will have a glorious time. Can't you now? There's a darling."

"Oh, you wheedling, hypocritical madcap, take yourself off! Of course Beulah will try to endure the stupid talk of a poor old man, whose daughters are too fashionable to look after him, and whose wife is so extremely charitable that she forgets it 'begins at home.' Clear out, you trial of paternal patience!" He kissed her rosy lips, and she hurried away, protesting that she would much prefer remaining at home.

"Beulah, I gave Hartwell that parcel you intrusted to me. He looked just as if I had plunged him into a snow-bank, but said nothing."

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh, don't thank me for playing go-between. I don't relish any such work. It is very evident that you two have quarreled. I would about as soon consult that poker as ask Hartwell what is to pay. Now, child, what is the matter?"

"Nothing new, sir. He has never forgiven me for turning teacher."

"Forgiven! Bless me, he is as spiteful as a Pequod!"

"Begging your pardon, Dr. Asbury, he is no such thing!" cried Beulah impetuously.

"Just what I might have expected. I am to understand, then, that you can abuse my partner sufficiently without any vituperative a.s.sistance from me?" He brushed the ashes from his cigar, and looked at her quizzically.

"Sir, it pains me to hear him spoken of so lightly."

"Lightly! Upon my word, I thought Indianic malice was rather a heavy charge. However, I can succeed better if you will allow--"

"Don't jest, sir. Please say no more about him."

His face became instantly grave, and he answered earnestly:

"Beulah, as a sincere friend, I would advise you not to alienate Hartwell. There are very few such men; I do not know his equal. He is interested in your welfare and happiness, and is the best friend you ever had or ever will have."

"I know it, and prize his friendship above all others."

"Then why did you return that watch? If he wished you to wear it, why should you refuse? Mark me, he said nothing about it to me; but I saw the watch, with your name engraved on the case, at the jewelry store where I bought one just like it for Georgia. I surmised it was that same watch, when you intrusted the package to me."

"I was already greatly indebted to him, and did not wish to increase the obligation."

"My child, under the circ.u.mstances, you were too fastidious. He was very much annoyed; though, as I told you before, he made no allusion to the subject."

"Yes; I knew he would be, and I am very sorry, but could not think of accepting it."

"Oh, you are well matched, upon my word!"

"What do you mean?"

"That you are both as proud as Lucifer and as savage as heathens.

Child, I don't see what is to become of you."

"Every soul is the star of its own destiny," answered Beulah.

"Well, very sorry destinies the majority make, I can tell you. Have you seen Mrs. Lockhart and Pauline?"

"No. I was not aware that they were in the city."

"Lockhart's health is miserable. They are all at Hartwell's for a few weeks, I believe. Pauline has grown up a perfect Di Vernon beauty."

"I should like very much to see her. She is a generous, n.o.ble-souled girl."

"Yes; I rather think she is. Hartwell said the other day that Pauline was anxious to see you; and, since I think of it, I believe he asked me to tell you of her arrival. Now, I will wager my head that you intend to wait until she calls formally, which it is your place to do."

"Then, sir, expect immediate decapitation, for I shall go out to see her this very afternoon," replied Beulah.

"That is right, my dear child."

"Dr. Asbury, if you will not think me troublesome, I should like to tell you of some things that perplex me very much," said she hesitatingly.

"I shall be glad to hear whatever you have to say, and if I can possibly help you, rest a.s.sured I will. What perplexes you?"

"A great many things, sir. Of late, I have read several works that have unsettled my former faith, and, indeed, confused and darkened my mind most miserably, and I thought you might aid me in my search after truth."

He threw his cigar into the fire, and, while an expression of sorrow clouded his face, said, very gravely:

"Beulah, I am afraid I am one of the last persons to whom you should apply for a.s.sistance. Do the perplexities to which you allude involve religious questions?"

"Yes, sir; almost entirely."

"I am too unsettled myself to presume to direct others."

Beulah looked up in unfeigned astonishment.

"You certainly are not what is termed skeptical?"

"Most sincerely do I wish that I was not."

There was a short silence, broken by Beulah's saying, slowly and sorrowfully:

"You cannot aid me, then!"

"I am afraid not. When a young man I was thoroughly skeptical in my religious views (if I may be said to have had any). At the time of my marriage I was an infidel, and such the world still calls me. If I am not now, it is because my wife's unpretending consistent piety has taught me to revere the precepts of a revelation which I long ago rejected. Her pure religion makes me respect Christianity, which once I sneered at. I am forced to acknowledge the happy results of her faith, and I may yet be brought to yield up old prejudices and confess its divine origin. I am no atheist, thank G.o.d! never have been. But I tell you candidly, my doubts concerning the Bible make me an unsafe guide for a mind like yours. For some time I have marked the course of your reading, by the books I missed from my shelves, and have feared just what has happened. On one point my experience may be of value to you. What is comprised under the head of philosophical research will never aid or satisfy you. I am an old man, Beulah, and have studied philosophic works for many years; but, take my word for it, the ma.s.s of them are sheer humbug. From the beginning of the world philosophers have been investigating the countless mysteries which present themselves to every earnest mind; but the arcana are as inscrutable now as ever. I do not wish to discourage you, Beulah; nor do I desire to underrate human capabilities; but, in all candor, this kind of study does not pay.

It has not repaid me--it has not satisfied Hartwell, who went deeper into metaphysics than anyone I know, and who now has less belief of any sort than anyone I ever wish to know. I would not advise you to prosecute this branch of study. I am content to acknowledge that of many things I know nothing, and never can be any wiser; but Guy Hartwell is too proud to admit his incapacity to grapple with some of these mysteries. Beulah, my wife is one of the happiest spirits I ever knew; she is a consistent Christian. When we were married, I watched her very closely. I tell you, child, I hoped very much that I should find some glaring incongruity in her conduct which would have sanctioned my skepticism. I was continually on the lookout for defects of character that might cast contempt on the religion she professed. I did not expect her to prove so pure-hearted, unselfish, humble, and genuinely pious as I found her. I do most sincerely revere such religion as hers. Ah! if it were not so rare I should never have been so skeptical. She has taught me that the precepts of the Bible do regulate the heart and purify the life; and to you, child, I will say, candidly, 'Almost she has persuaded me to be a Christian.' Whatever of--"

He said no more, for at this moment the door opened, and Mrs. Asbury entered. She welcomed Beulah with a cordial sincerity, singularly soothing to the orphan's heart, and, keeping her hand in a tight clasp, asked several questions, which her husband cut short by drawing her to his side.

"Where have you been straying to, madam?"

"Where you must stray to, sir, just as soon as you start out this evening on your round of visits."