Lost Lenore Part 44

Jessie loved me. I was now sure of it. Several circ.u.mstances had combined to bring this misfortune upon her. Grateful for the service I had done in saving their child, her father and mother acted, as if they could not treat me with sufficient consideration. Little Rosa herself thought me the most remarkable man in the world; and was always talking of me to her sister.

It was natural for a girl like Jessie to love some one; and she had met but few, from whom she could make a choice. There was nothing strange in her young affections becoming centred on me; and they had done so.

Conscience told me that I should at once take myself from her presence; but the fascination of that presence proved stronger than my sense of duty; and I remained--each day, becoming more enthralled by the spell of her beauty.

Why was it wrong in me to stay by the side of Jessie H--? Lenore Hyland had forsaken me; and why should I not love another? Where could I hope to find a woman more beautiful, more truthful, more worthy of being loved, or more capable of loving than Jessie. The task of learning to love her seemed every day to grow less difficult; and why should I bring the process to an abrupt termination?

These considerations required my most profound reflection. They obtained it--at least I thought so;--but the reflections of a man, under the fascinating influence of female beauty, are seldom guided by wisdom.

Certainly mine were not, else I would not have allowed the hopes and happiness of my life to have been wrested from me by the loss of Lenore.

Volume Two, Chapter XXVII.

"LOVE BUT ONE!"

"What should I do?" This was the question that presented itself to my mind, almost every hour of the day. It called energetically for an answer.

I loved Lenore Hyland--I felt that I ever should, as long as life was left me. Such being the case, was it right for me to endeavour to gain the affections of an unsophisticated girl like Jessie H--? Would it be honourable of me to take advantage of that incident--which had no doubt favoured her first inclination towards me? To win her heart, and then forsake her, would be to inflict upon her the same sorrow I was myself suffering for the loss of Lenore.

Lenore was still more dear to me than life; and I had only lived since losing her, because I believed it a crime to die, until some Supreme Power should call me to come. And yet should I ever return to Liverpool, and find Lenore a widow--even though she should wish it--I could never marry her!

"She can never be mine," thought I. "She never loved me; or she would have waited for my return. Why, then, should I not love Jessie, and make her my wife?"

There are many who would have adopted this alternative; and without thinking there was any wrong in it.

I did, however. I knew that I could never love Jessie, as I had loved Lenore--to whose memory I could not help proving true, notwithstanding that she had abandoned me for another. This feeling on my part may have been folly--to a degree scarce surpa.s.sed by my mother's infatuation for Mr Leary; but to know that a certain course of action is foolish, does not always prevent one from pursuing it.

"Shall I marry Jessie, and become contented--perhaps happy? Or shall I remain single--true to the memory of the lost Lenore--and continue the aimless, wandering, wretched existence I have lately experienced?"

Long and violent was the struggle within my soul, before I could determine upon the answers to these self-asked questions. I knew that I could love Jessie; but never as I should. "Would it be right, then, for me to marry her?" I answered the last question by putting another.

"Should I myself wish to have a wife, who loved another man, and yet pretended for me an affection she did not feel?"

I need scarcely say, that this interrogatory received an instantaneous response in the negative. It determined me to separate from Jessie H--, and at once. To remain any longer in her society--to stay even another day under the roof of her father's house, would be a crime for which I could never forgive myself. To-morrow I should start for Melbourne.

I had been walking on the bank of the river, when these reflections, and the final resolve, pa.s.sed through my mind. I was turning to go back to the house, when I saw Jessie straying near. She approached me, as if by accident.

"Miss H--," said I, "I am going to take leave of you."

"Going to leave me!" she exclaimed, her voice quivering as she spoke.

"Yes; I must start for Melbourne to-morrow morning."

She remained silent for some seconds; and I could see that the colour had forsaken her checks.

"I am very sorry," she said at length, "very sorry to hear it."

"Sorry!" I repeated, hardly knowing what I said, "why should that grieve you?"

I should not have asked such a question; and, as soon as I had done so, I perceived the mistake I had made.

She offered no reply to it; but sate down upon the bank; and rested her head upon her hands. An expression had come over her countenance, unmistakeably of a painful character; and I could see that her eyes were fast filling with tears.

"Surely this girl loves me? And surely I could love her?"

I know not how these two mental interrogatories were answered. I only know that, instead of rejoicing in the knowledge that I had gained her love, I was made miserable by the thought.

I raised her to her feet; and allowed her head to rest upon my shoulder.

"Miss H--," said I, "can it be that you show so much emotion, merely at parting with a friend?"

"Ah!" she replied, "I have thought of you as a friend; but such a one as I never knew before. My life has been lonely. We are here, as you know, shut out from all intercourse with the world. We can form but few friendships. Yours has been to me like some unknown joy of life. You have been my only thought, since I first saw you."

"You must try to forget me--to forget that we have ever met; and I will try to forget you. _I should_ only think of you as a friend!"

For a second she stood gazing upon me in silence. Then tremblingly put the question:

"You love another?"

"I do, although I love without hope. It is one who can never be mine-- one I may, perhaps, never see again. She and I were playmates when young. I fancied she loved me; but she did not: she has married another."

"How very strange! To me it seems impossible!"

The artless innocence of these observations, proved the purity of the mind from which they could emanate.

"And yet," continued she, "for one who has acted in that manner, you can still feel love?"

"Alas! such is my unfortunate fate."

"Oh! sir, if you but knew the heart you are casting away from you!--its truth--its devotion and constancy--you would never leave me; but stay here and be happy. You would learn to love me. You could not hate one, who loves you as I can; and will to the end of my life!"

I could make no reply to this speech. Sweet as it might have been to the ears of some, I listened to it only with pain. I scarce knew either what to say, or do; and I was only relieved, from my painful embarra.s.sment, when our steps brought us back to the house.

I loved Lenore for what she had been; and regarded her now as lost--as dead; yet I determined to remain true to her. My affections were not wandering fancies--finding a home wherever circ.u.mstances might offer it.

I could "love but one."

Jessie H--was beautiful, innocent, and affectionate; but all these qualities could not conquer my love for Lenore; and honour commanded me to depart speedily from her presence.

Shortly after entering the house, she retired to her own room; and I saw no more of her for the night.

Before doing so myself, I took leave of Mr and Mrs H--, telling them that I must be off by daybreak in the morning.

My companions, Vane and Cannon, declared their unwillingness to accompany me; and used every argument to dissuade me from such an abrupt departure; but their arguments were only thrown away upon me. I had formed the determination; and nothing could have influenced me to abandon it. On becoming a.s.sured of this, they at length consented to go along with me.

Mr and Mrs H--did not urge me very strenuously to remain; and I believe that their silent eloquence could have been explained: by the supposition that it arose, from a regard for the happiness of their daughter.

We took our departure from the station at an early hour of the morning-- before any of the household--except some of the domestics--were astir.

This manner of leaving may appear unceremonious; and would be so, in many parts of the world. But it is nothing unusual in Australia--where early setting out upon a journey is almost the universal fashion.

I did not care for the company of Vane and Cannon, on the way back to Melbourne. I would much rather have dispensed with it: as I wished to be alone. I wanted an opportunity for reflection--such as that journey would have afforded me. The society of Jessie H--had revived many memories within me. It had rekindled my pa.s.sion for Lenore-- strengthened my regrets for the past, and my despair for the future.