Beulah Part 76

He was absent two years, and came back so stern, so cynical, so unlike his former self, I scarcely knew him. Mrs. Chilton took charge of his house from the hour of his separation from Creola; but they were not congenial. He was vastly her superior, save in intellect, which none of the Hartwell family ever lacked. My husband is very much attached to Guy; thinks he has not an equal, yet mourns over the blight which fell upon him in the very morn of his glorious manhood. About a year after his return from Europe he took you to his house as an adopted child. I wondered at it, for I knew how imbittered his whole soul had become. But the heart must have an idol; he was desolate and miserable, and took you home to have something to love and interest him. You never knew him in the prime of his being, for, though comparatively young in years, he had grown prematurely old in feeling before you saw him. Poor Guy! may a merciful and loving G.o.d preserve him wherever he may be, and bring him to a knowledge of that religion which alone can comfort a nature like his--so n.o.ble, so gifted, yet so injured, so imbittered."

She brushed away the tears that stood on her cheeks, and looked sorrowfully at the portrait of the unfortunate young wife.

Beulah sat with her face partially averted, and her eyes shaded with her hand; once or twice her lips moved, and a shiver ran over her.

She looked up, and said abruptly:

"Leave the key of this room with me, will you? I should like to come here occasionally."

"Certainly; come as often as you choose; and here on this bunch is the key of the melodeon. Take it also; the instrument needs dusting, I dare say, for it has never been opened since Guy left, nearly five years ago. There, the clock struck two, and the boat leaves at four; there, too, is my husband's step. Come, my dear; we must go down.

Take these keys until I return."

She gave them to her, and they descended to the dining room, where the doctor awaited them.

"Beulah, what are you going to do with yourself next year? You must not think of living in that cottage alone. Since Mrs. Williams'

death you should abandon the thought of keeping house. It will not do, child, for you to live there by yourself." So said the doctor a short time before he bade her adieu.

"I don't know yet what I shall do. I am puzzled about a home."

"You need not be. Come and live in my house, as I begged you to do long ago. Alice and I will be heartily glad to have you. Child, why should you hesitate?"

"I prefer a home of my own, if circ.u.mstances permitted it. You and Mrs. Asbury have been very kind in tendering me a home in your house, and I do most sincerely thank you both for your friendly interest; but I--"

"Oh, Beulah, I should be so very glad to have you always with me! My dear child, come."

Mrs. Asbury pa.s.sed her arm affectionately around the girl's waist.

Beulah looked at her with trembling lips, and said hastily:

"Will you take me as a boarder?"

"I would rather take you as a friend--as a daughter."

"Not a bit of it, Alice. She shall pay the highest possible board.

Don't imagine, Miss Independence, that I expected for a moment to offer you a home gratis. Pay board? That you shall; always in advance, and candles, and fires, and the use of my library, and the benefit of my explanations and conversation charged as 'extras,'"

cried the doctor, shaking his fist at her.

"Then, sir, I engage rooms."

"Will you really come, my child?" asked Mrs. Asbury, kissing the orphan's pale cheek tenderly.

"Gladly, as a boarder, and very grateful for such a privilege."

"Beulah, on reflection, I think I can possibly take Charon for half- price; though I must confess to numerous qualms of conscience at the bare suggestion of receiving such an 'infernal' character into my household."

"Thank you," said she, and saw them depart for Saratoga, whither Georgia and Helen had preceded them. Several weeks elapsed without her receiving any tidings, and then a letter came giving her information of a severe illness which had attacked the doctor, immediately after his arrival in New York. He was convalescing rapidly when his wife wrote, and, in proof thereof, subjoined a postscript, in his scrawling hand and wonted bantering style. Beulah laughed over it, refolded the letter, and went into her little garden to gather a bouquet for one of her pupils who had recently been quite sick. She wore a white muslin ap.r.o.n over her black dress, and soon filled it with verbena, roses, and geranium sprigs. Sitting down on the steps, she began to arrange them, and soon became absorbed in her occupation. Presently a shadow fell on the step; she glanced up, and the flowers dropped from her fingers, while an exclamation of surprise escaped her.

Mr. Lindsay held out his hand.

"After four years of absence, of separation, have you no word of welcome?"

She gave him both hands, and said eagerly:

"Oh, yes; I am very glad to see you again; very glad that I have an opportunity of congratulating you on your signal success. I am heartily glad my friend is soon to enter Congressional halls. Accept my most sincere congratulations on your election."

A sudden flush rose to his temples, and, clasping her hands tightly, he exclaimed pa.s.sionately:

"Oh, Beulah, your congratulations mock me. I come to offer you, once more, my hand, my heart, my honors, if I have any. I have waited patiently; no, not patiently, but still I have waited, for some token of remembrance from you, and could bear my suspense no longer.

Will you share the position which has been accorded me recently?

Will you give me this hand which I desire more intensely than the united honors of the universe beside? Beulah, has my devoted love won me your affection? Will you go with me to Washington?"

"I cannot; I cannot!"

"Cannot? Oh, Beulah, I would make you a happy wife, if it cost me my life!"

"No. I could not be happy as your wife. It is utterly impossible.

Mr. Lindsay, I told you long ago you could never be more than a friend."

"And have years wrought no change in your heart?"

"Years have strengthened my esteem, my sincere friendship; but more than this all time cannot accomplish."

"Your heart is tenacious of its idol," he answered moodily.

"It rebels, sir, now, as formerly, at the thought of linking my destiny with that of one whom I never loved." Beulah spoke rapidly, her cheeks burned and her eyes sparkled with displeasure.

He looked at her and sighed deeply; then threw down a letter, saying:

"Ah, Beulah, I understood long ago why you could not love me; but I hoped years of absence would obliterate the memory that prevented my winning you. I made unusual exertions to discover some trace of your wandering guardian; have written constantly to my former banker in Paris, to find some clew to his whereabouts. Through him I learn that your friend was last heard of at Canton, and the supposition is that he is no longer living. I do not wish to pain you, Beulah; but I would fain show you how frail a hope you cling to. Believe me, dear Beulah, I am not so selfish as to rejoice at his prolonged absence. No, no. Love such as mine prizes the happiness of its object above all other things. Were it in my power I would restore him to you this moment. I had hoped you would learn to love me; but I erred in judging your nature. Henceforth I will cast off this hope, and school myself to regard you as my friend only. I have, at least, deserved your friendship."

"And it is inalienably yours!" cried she very earnestly.

"In future, when toiling to discharge my duties, I may believe I have one sincere friend, who will rejoice at my success?"

"Of this you may well rest a.s.sured. It seems a poor return, Mr.

Lindsay, for all you have tendered me; but it is the most I can give, the most an honest heart will allow me to offer. Truly, you may always claim my friendship and esteem, if it has any worth."

"I prize it far more than your hand unaccompanied by your heart.

Henceforth we will speak of the past no more; only let me be the friend an orphan may require. You are to live in my uncle's house, I believe; I am very glad you have decided to do so; this is not a proper home for you now. How do you contrive to exorcise loneliness?"

"I do not always succeed very well. My flowers are a great resource; I don't know how I should live without them. My books, too, serve to occupy my attention." She was making a great effort to seem cheerful, but he saw that her smile was forced; and, with an a.s.surance that he would see her again before he went to Washington, he shook hands cordially, and left her. She tied her bouquet, and dispatched it to the sick child, with a few lines of kind remembrance; then took the letter which Mr. Lindsay had thrown on the steps, and opened it with trembling fingers.

"MR. R. LINDSAY

"Dear Sir: Yours of the 3d came to hand yesterday. As I wrote you before, I accidentally learned that Dr. Hartwell had been in Canton; but since that have heard nothing from him, and have been unable to trace him further. Letters from Calcutta state that he left that city, more than a year since, for China. Should I obtain any news of him, rest a.s.sured it shall be immediately transmitted to you.

"Very respectfully,

"R. A. FIELDS."

She crumpled the sheet, and threw it from her; and if ever earnest, heartspoken prayer availed, her sobbing cry to the G.o.d of travelers insured his safety.