Cora and The Doctor Part 36

If I can steady my hand sufficiently to hold a pen I will tell you some news. I went this afternoon to the village on an errand for Emily, who is still suffering from an attack of her old complaint, the nervous head-ache. In company with Pauline, I was walking home slowly, as it is very warm, when a gentleman pa.s.sed me on horse-back. I did not recognize him; but when I addressed some remark to Pauline, he turned, sprang from his horse, and was by my side in a moment.

"Mr. Benson!" I exclaimed in a glad voice, for at the time I only felt my old respect for him. His manner was very cordial; and I could not but acknowledge that he was greatly improved by his travels. But as he grew more free, I became more embarra.s.sed, and as he walked by my side leading his horse, I began to wonder what I should do with him. He took great notice of Pauline, in whom he was formerly much interested. He had not yet inquired for sister, and I determined to give him no chance. "I am surprised," I said, "to see you on horse-back."

"I was always fond of the exercise, and I have almost lived on the backs of horses, or rather mules and camels for the last five years."

"But _now_," said I, hesitating, meaning without his wife.

His countenance brightened with a smile, as he said, "You will find me very little changed in my tastes. I am just the same man."

I blushed with indignation, and wanted to say, "no, you are very much altered, for you are a married man." "Where is your wife?" I asked, after a pause.

He started and looked me full in the face. Seeing I still waited for an answer, he said, "I did not understand you."

"Where is _Mrs._ Benson?" I repeated.

For an instant he looked terribly stern. Then recovering himself, and evidently forcing a laugh, said, "that is a question far easier to ask than to answer."

I made no reply, but looked at him in astonishment.

Seeing me very serious, he said, "I fear you are laboring under a mistake, and are giving me more than is my due. I have not the happiness to be a married man."

I'm sure, I can't tell whether I screamed, or not; I know I felt like it. "And aren't you about to be married to Miss Karswell, from the South?" I asked eagerly.

He bit his lips as he smiled and looked down, but presently said, "I have not even that honor."

"And not to"--I checked myself in much confusion.

"Dear Mrs. Lenox," said he, taking my hand, "I see you are the same kind friend as ever," and bowing adieu he sprang upon his horse and rode away, looking back to send his regards to my husband. I had not time or presence of mind to invite him to call. But as soon as we were in our own grounds, I flew along the walks, up the steps into the library, hoping Frank had returned. I must tell somebody. Fortunately he was there. I ran across the room, and began to caress him so convulsively that he started up to see what could have happened.

"Why, Cora, you're all in a heat. What excites you so?"

"Wait till I can get my breath," said I, "Oh, Frank! I'm so glad! Mr.

Benson isn't married!"

"But where is Miss Karswell from the South?" said he sternly.

"You need not look so grave, I _don't care_ where she is; only I know he is neither married nor engaged to her."

"How do you know?" he inquired in a doubting tone.

"Because I asked him, and he told me so."

Frank now began to be as much astonished, and as eager for news as I wished. I commenced at the beginning and related all the conversation.

"Now Frank," said I, when I had finished, "Emily mustn't go to C----.

Even if I had not seen Mr. Benson, and found out the mistake under which we were laboring, she is not really well enough to undertake the journey alone; and I feel confident that her only object in going was to avoid meeting him at present."

"I grant all this, my dear, and love you for your enthusiastic interest in your sister; but you are going too fast; and jumping at a conclusion which may be far from true, that because he is not engaged to be married to one particular lady at the South, it necessarily follows that he must be in love with and wishing to marry a lady who haughtily refused him five years ago. I can't say, my dear, I think logic is exactly your forte."

"I don't wish any logic applied to my love nor to that of those with whom I have to do. I want nothing but the outbursting of a full heart which overleaps all the deductions of logic. I shouldn't think much of any man's love, much less of a woman's," said I proudly, "who stopped to reason and calculate."

Frank smiled, as he saw me working myself up into such an excitement.

"Well," said he, "I think I can name one man who reasoned and calculated, as you so indignantly express it, and who, being well convinced that reason justified and approved his love, he then calculated his chance of success, and finding that a pair of bright eyes grew brighter at his approach, and that notwithstanding all the owner's efforts to prevent it, the blushes burned upon her cheeks, he continued,

"'You know, you must have known, I long have lov'd--lov'd you alone, But cannot know how dearly.'

'He told her if his hopes were cross'd, His every aim in life was lost.

She knew he spoke sincerely.'"

"Then encouraged by her downcast looks, he allowed his heart free vent, and soon found himself the fortunate owner of the most true, and loving heart that ever man was blessed with."

I was completely overcome, though I tried to conceal it. "Oh!" said I, "if the lords of creation were only not so vain. There might be ten thousand things to make one blush beside"--but I felt my own cheeks burn, and I concluded to return to the original subject. Frank advised me certainly to tell Emily what I had intended, but by no means to encourage in her the idea that Mr. Benson wished to renew his addresses to her.

"You don't know, Emily," I said, "as well as I do. She has as proud a spirit as your own; and I think, she would die rather than to allow any one to suppose, she were sitting meekly waiting his affection."

_Thursday, August 6th._

After the conversation yesterday afternoon, I was obliged to own to myself that I had been too hasty in my conclusions; and I determined to be very careful of what I said to sister. I _walked_ over to the cottage, therefore, instead of running, as I felt inclined, and found mother alone in the parlor completing a dress for Emily.

"Where is sister?" I asked.

"She is in her room, packing. I wish you would persuade her to give up this journey, or at least to postpone it. She really is not well."

"That is just my errand. Frank is decided against it."

"Well then, go and talk with the child, and I wish you success."

I peeped into the room, and saw her on her knees at the trunk, while Ruth was pa.s.sing articles to her young mistress from the drawers, closets, etc. I said, "Ruth, I will take your place," and she went below. Now I had prepared a kind of speech for the occasion; but at the time I couldn't think of a word of it. "Emily," said I, sitting down instead of a.s.sisting her, "I have come to ask a great favor of you. Will you grant it?"

"Certainly, my love, why should you doubt it?"

"Well then, Frank, mother and I, are very unhappy to have you leave in your present state of health, and we ask you to please defer your visit to C---- until another time."

Emily looked much troubled, as she rose and stood before me. "You mean kindly; but believe me, dear sister, it would be far better and easier for me to be away. My head-ache is better, and is only occasioned by the heat."

"Well, darling, will you, to please me, postpone it for one week?"

She stood a full minute, as if calculating her own strength to endure; and then said, "I will, from such a motive, and for so short a time."

"Then," said I, joyfully, "one subject is disposed of. You've granted me one favor,--I want another."

"You're fortunate," she replied, smiling, "in finding me in good humor.

However, you're not very troublesome in that way. I think I can venture to promise."

"Well," said I, casting down my eyes, (I could not for my life meet hers,) "I want that beautiful bride's cake."