Honor Edgeworth; Or, Ottawa's Present Tense Part 14

Guy started and looked around. Poor fellow! Already the traits of sadness were visible in his handsome face. He only parted his lips slightly as he turned to greet his friend.

"What, in the name of all that's nice, have you been doing with yourself, Guy? We've missed you awfully."

"I dare say, I have been a little quiet lately," Guy answered. "I am busy at present, but I don't think I need complain of it. I am feeling better than if I were living more on the streets."

Vivian Standish laughed the laziest sort of drawl.

"Now Elersley, don't take to moralizing--you were never made for it, your face would get so deuced eloquent looking, that the rest of us would lose all our present chances."

But Guy neither smiled nor spoke, and this set his friends wondering.

On reaching the corner, Will Airey took an arm of each of his companions, and said:

"Come along boys to see the tumblers. Come Elersley."

"Thank you, no," said Guy, releasing his arm, "I am very busy and must get back to my room. _Au plaisir!_ Good afternoon!" and he was gone.

Willie Airey looked after him and then at Vivian Standish, and gave a long, low whistle.

"There's something up there, by Jove," he said, tossing his head in the direction Guy had taken. "If Elersley has started a reform, it is time for the retail dealers in 'gratifications' to close up, for it is a sure sign we must all follow him."

Vivian Standish looked thoughtful for a moment, saying, as he drew a long breath, "I wish to Heaven we could, for upon my word I'm sick of my own life. Anything would be better than the existence we fellows try to drag out. I think we are all fools who do not do as Elersley has done to-night, and I for another refuse the treat with thanks."

So instead of repairing to the familiar marble counter inside a familiar gla.s.s door, these two spoilt darlings of sensuality joined Miss Bella Dash and her friend, and escorted them home, much to the intense gratification of the first-named young lady.

Without complimenting himself at all on the moral victory he had achieved, Guy Elersley walked along, sunk in deep reflection. His long strides brought him over many crossings and round many corners, till at length he stopped before a demure, respectable looking hall door.

Thrusting a key into the lock, he opened it and stepped into the hall, from which place he admitted himself into a small and silent apartment.

Guy's room presented a strange spectacle. Suits of clothes, shirt boxes, silk handkerchiefs, slippers, boots, ties, books, cigars and a host of other male appendages, were lying around on the bed, and chairs, and floor, in fact, every available resting place had been taken advantage of. In the midst of this confusion stood a large Saratoga, wide open.

Guy was evidently "packing up" this time, not because he had been "dunned" for half-a-year's board, though that would have been no new item in his well-patched-up experience. He was going away, and I doubt if ever a man felt half so sorry for being "naughty" as Guy Elersley felt on this particular evening.

One by one he folded away all his possessions into the depths of his trunk, and when at last the chaotic ma.s.s of belongings had crept into a tidy s.p.a.ce, he looked around--that last surveying glance one gives to see that nothing has been left out. Nothing had been left out, so he took down his overcoat, that was hanging on a peg behind the door, and he began to turn out the pockets.

As he did so the most melancholy of smiles crept over his sad face, and drawing out his hand, his eyes fell on a small, narrow band of chestnut hair, fastened with a gold clasp, on which were engraved in large characters the initials, "H. E."

A struggle ensued. The memories he had buried forever, as he thought, surged upon him now in all their force, and almost overwhelmed him. He took the little bracelet in both his hands and looked at it tenderly, longingly. He had not thought it possible that any woman could ever have filled his heart with so much bitterness--the bitterness of remorse and repentance. He who had flirted and fooled with almost every girl he had met, now felt what it was to have met with one who was the embodiment of goodness and purity and truth. Her sweet face haunted him through all his misery. He knew she would be wondering about him, they had been such good _friends_. After all, must he go away? Perhaps never to see her again, without knowing whether she would miss him or not. Oh! at least, pain and sorrow and suffering are not so crushing when one is loved. It is something when the head is weary with its thoughts of anguish to pillow it on the sympathizing bosom of one who loves us; it is in the deep, imploring gaze of the eyes that watch us with a tender solicitude, that one learns an easy lesson of resignation, it is in the warm pressure of the hand whose power it is to make our pulses throb, that one gathers the courage for action in the moment of distress, and the who have never been loved are they who suffer indeed.

Guy felt that he loved Honor Edgeworth in a way which involved his own future happiness, and yet how could he ascertain whether he might hope or not? Reader, do you know that it is a dreadful thing to love in silence and in doubt? The victim of such a cruel fate wonders at the mysterious Providence which dooms him to spend his most violent emotions in a fruitless combat with himself, gaining no returns for the lavishness of his soul's affection, for if G.o.d is love, love is surely mystery.

Still holding the precious little bracelet in his trembling hands, Guy stood thinking and wondering. We are too p.r.o.ne, in our cool and pa.s.sionless moments, to judge harshly of the deeds that are done under the influence of strong emotion, and for this reason many would condemn Guy for his weakness on this occasion, for as he stood, the large, round, tears rose to his eyes, and he tasted for the first time, the over-flowing bitterness of a heart that is tried. At last he seemed to have learned from this little talisman the proper thing to do, for going over to the table that stood by the window, he sat down, and drawing a sheet of paper to him, took his pen between his nervous fingers, and began to write.

"Honor darling, there are a few little words waiting to be said that you must be good enough to hear. If I spoke them, they would sound like choking sobs, as I write them, know that they are written with tears.

Honor, you cannot but feel what it is that I am longing to say. You who understand the human heart so well, will not exact that I should break the iron bonds of a cruel discretion, to let you know that which is often best understood unsaid. By my own folly, I have placed the barrier of distance between us. I go from this place in a few hours more--where?

G.o.d knows. And for what? He likewise alone can tell. But there is a determination in my heart that was never there before--a stimulant causing it to beat in heavy throbs, and each throb echoes your name.

Maybe you call mine a worthless love, I cannot tell, I wish I could.

There is one little word, my guardian angel, that will fill me with courage if your lips will but p.r.o.nounce it. It is "Hope." Remember in any case, that whatever I shall do of right or good will be on account of your redeeming influence, and that the day on which I first met you is in my memory, the day of my salvation. If you have any little word of encouragement for me, my friend, the bearer of this message, will kindly have it sent me. You have taught me to hope once, Honor, do not crush the pa.s.sion you have awakened, for though it be vainly--wildly--madly, I do hope now. I hope and wait.

Anxiously and lovingly yours,

GUY."

It was done. Only a few scratches of his pen to interpret the misery of his soul, but how stiff it sounded! He has scarcely been able to restrain the gusts of emotions that lay in ready words on the threshold of his lips. But first he must know whether it was all despair for him in the doubtful future before pouring out all the fullness of his heart.

He had scarcely finished the last stroke of his letter when a tap was heard at the door, followed by the appearance of a familiar face, the owner of which entered the room and approached Guy without waiting for an invitation.

"Hallo! Elersley, what in the name of all that's wonderful are you at now?"

Guy looked suddenly up, but he could not hide the worn and pained expression that covered his face. His voice a.s.sumed a cheerfulness, he was far from feeling as he bade his friend be seated.

"The room is in a queer state," he said, "but you wont mind that."

"Well I mind it a good deal, if it means what it looks like--are you off?

"Yes," answered Guy in a steady tone, "I am leaving Ottawa to-morrow, it's a cursed hole for a fellow to live in, and I'm sorry I did not find it out before."

"Well, upon my word," said Standish, throwing one leg over the end of Guy's trunk, "you _are_ a queer fellow. What's going wrong that you are so blue about matters? I thought you were an enviable sort of fellow, with a snug little prospect before you, and here you are, as down in the mouth as if you hadn't a hope in the world. What's up old boy?"

Guy turned his back to the window, and leaned against the writing table with both hands.

"Oh! things have gone a little roughly that's all, and I prefer new pastures when there are troubles in the old ones. I have been a little foolish, I suppose, and now I am reaping my reward."

His face grew pitiably serious as he turned to Vivian saying:

"There's only one little matter I am leaving unsettled, Standish, and will you manage it for me? I cannot do it myself."

"By all means Elersley. Who is he? The tailor or--"

"Oh nonsense!" interrupted Guy impatiently, "it is nothing of that kind.

I have a note here to be carefully delivered, and I would ask you to see to it for me."

"A young lady eh?" Standish replied good-humoredly, as he took the offered letter. "I thought there was surely a woman at the bottom of it.

Egad!" he continued under his moustache, "we owe them a long debt of revenge, as the cause of all our grievous and petty wrongs. However,"

this more cheerfully, "you can trust this to me. But talking business, Guy are you actually going away?"

"And why need it surprise you so," asked Guy, peevishly, "what are the railroads for, if not to take us miles away from the scenes we love or hate? I certainly am going, and I have never realized until this moment what I owe to the kind friends I have met during my sojourn here. If I have solved the bitter mysteries of hidden sinful life, I owe a word of grat.i.tude to some worthy companions."

Here the memory of all he had lost through his own recklessness, rushed upon him and before his emotion subsided, he had cursed in bitter terms the false deceitful friends, who had lured him from his innocence into vice and depravity.

CHAPTER XVIII.

"With G.o.ddess-like demeanour forth she went Not unattended, for on her as queen, A pomp of winning graces waited still.

And from about her shot darts of desire Into all eyes to wish her still in sight."

"Are the ladies at home?"

"Yes. Will you come inside?" said Fitts, with his politest bow, as he extended an exquisite little card receiver towards his visitors.