Vashti Part 34

"My dear child, where do you desire to go? If your wishes are reasonable they shall be granted."

"Will you persuade Miss Jane to take Jessie in my place, and send me to France or Italy?"

"To study music with the intention of becoming a _prima donna_?"

"Yes, sir."

"My young friend, I cannot conscientiously advise a compliance with wishes so fraught with danger to yourself."

"You fear that my voice does not justify so expensive an experiment?"

"On the contrary, I have not a doubt that your extraordinary voice will lift you to the highest pinnacle of musical celebrity; and, because your career on the stage promises to prove so brilliant, I shudder in antic.i.p.ating the temptations that will unavoidably a.s.sail you."

"You are afraid to trust me?"

"Yes, my little sister; you are so impulsive, so p.r.o.ne to hearken to evil dictates rather than good ones, that I dread the thought of seeing you launched into the dangerous career you contemplate, without some surer, safer, more infallible pilot than your proud, pa.s.sionate heart. If you were homely, and a dullard, I should entertain less apprehension about your future."

Her broad brow blackened with a frown that became a terrible scowl, and her eyes gleamed like lightning under the edge of a thunderous summer cloud.

"What is it to you whether I live or die? The immaculate soul of Ulpian Grey, M.D., will serenely wing its way up through the stars, on and on to the great Gates of Pearl,--oblivious of the beggar who, from the lowest Hades, where she has fallen, eagerly watches his flight."

"The anxious soul of Ulpian Grey will pray for yours, as long as we remain on earth. Salome, I am the truest friend you will ever find this side of the City of G.o.d; and, when I see you plunging madly into ruin, I shall s.n.a.t.c.h you back, cost me what it may. Your jeers and struggle have not deterred me hitherto, nor shall they henceforth. You are as incapable of guiding yourself aright, as a rudderless bark is of stemming the gulf-stream in a south-west gale; and I am afraid to trust you out of my sight."

"Yes, I understand you; the good angel in your nature pities the demon in mine. But your pity stifles me; I could not endure it; and, besides, I cannot stay here any longer. I must go out into the world, and seize the fortune that people tell me my voice will certainly yield me."

Flush and sparkle had died out of her face, which, in its worn, haggard pallor, looked five years older than when she entered the parlor, three hours before.

"Pecuniary considerations must not influence you, because, while Janet and I live, you shall want nothing; and when either dies, you will be liberally provided for. Dismiss from your mind a matter that has long been decided, and which no wish of yours can annul or alter."

With an impatient wave of the hand, she answered,--

"Give to poor little Jessie and Stanley what was intended for me. They are helpless, but I can take care of myself; and, moreover, I am not contented here. I want to see something of the world in which--_bon gre mal gre_--I find myself. Let me go. Rousseau was a sage. '_Le monde est le livre des femmes_.'"

He shook his head, and said, sorrowfully,--

"No, your instincts are unreliable; and if you roam away from Jane and from me, you will sip more poison than honey. Be wise, and remain where Providence has placed you. I will bring Jessie here, and you shall teach her what you choose, and Stanley can command all the educational advantages he will improve. After a while, you shall, if you prefer it, have a pleasant home of your own, and dwell there with the two little ones. Such has long been my scheme and purpose; but, during my sister's life, she will never consent to give you up; and you owe it to her not to desert her in the closing years, when she most urgently requires the solace of your love and society."

Salome covered her face with her hands, and something like a heavy dry sob shook her frame; but the spring of bitterness seemed exhaustless, and her voice was indescribably scornful in its defiant ring.

"You are very charitable, Dr. Grey, and I thank you for all your embryonic benevolent plans for me and my pauper relatives; but I have drawn a very different map for my future years. You seem to regard this house as a second '_La Tour sans venin_,' which, like its prototype near Gren.o.ble, possesses an atmosphere fatal to all poisonous, noxious things; but surely you forget that it has long sheltered me."

"No, it has never arrogated the prerogative of '_La Tour sans venin_,'

but of one thing, my poor wilful child, you shall never have reason to be skeptical,--that dear Jane and I will indefatigably strive to serve you as faithfully and successfully, as did in ancient days, the Psylli whom Plutarch immortalized."

While he spoke Dr. Grey had been turning over the leaves of the old family Bible, which happened to lie within his reach; and now, without premonition, he read aloud the fifty-fifth Psalm.

She listened, not willingly, but _ex necessitate rei_, and rebelliously; and, when he finished the Psalm, and knelt, with his face on his arms, which were crossed upon the back of a chair, she stood haughtily erect and motionless beside him.

His prayer was brief and fervent, that G.o.d would aid her in her efforts to curb her pa.s.sionate temper, and to walk in accordance with the teachings of Jesus; and that he would especially overrule all things, and guide her decision in the important step she contemplated.

He rose, and turned towards her, but her countenance was hidden.

"Good night, Salome. G.o.d bless you and direct you."

She raised her face, and her eyes sought his with a long, questioning, pleading gaze, so full of anguish that he could scarcely endure it.

Then he saw the last spark of hope expire; and she bent her queenly head an instant, and silently pa.s.sed from the parlor.

"I have watched my first and holiest hopes depart, One after one; I have held the hand of Death upon my heart, And made no moan."

CHAPTER XVII.

"Pardon my intrusion, Mrs. Gerome, and ascribe it to Elsie's anxiety concerning your health. In compliance with her request, I have come to ascertain whether you really require my attention."

Dr. Grey placed his hat and gloves on the piano, and established himself comfortably in a large chair near the arch, where Mrs. Gerome, palette in hand, sat before her easel.

"Elsie's nerves have run away with her sound common sense, and filled her mind with vagaries. She imagines that I need medicine, whereas I only require quiet and peace, which neither she nor you will permit me to enjoy."

She did not even glance at the visitor, but mixed some colors rapidly, and deepened the rose-tints in a cl.u.s.ter of apple-blossoms she was scattering in the foreground of a picture.

"If it is not of vital importance that those pearly petals should be finished immediately, I should be glad to have you turn your face towards me for a few moments. There,--thank you. Mrs. Gerome, do I look like a nervous, whimsical man, whose fancy mastered his professional judgment, or blunted his ac.u.men?"

"You certainly appear as phlegmatic, as utterly unimaginative, as any lager-loving German, whom Teniers or Ostade ever painted '_Unter den linden_.'"

"Then my words should possess some influence when they corroborate Elsie's statement, that you are far from well. Do not be childishly incredulous, and impatiently shake your head; from a woman of your age and sense one expects more dignity and prudence."

"Sir, your rudeness has at least a flavor of stern honesty that makes it almost palatable. Do you propose to take my case into your skilful hands?"

"I merely propose to expostulate with you upon the unfortunate and ruinous course of life you have decided to pursue. No eremite of the Thebaid, or the Nitroon, is more completely immured than I find you; and the seclusion from society is quite as deleterious as the want of out-door air and sunshine. Your mind, debarred from communion with your race and denied novel and refreshing themes, centres in its own operations and creations, broods over threadbare topics until it has grown morbid; and, instead of deriving healthful nourishment from the world that surrounds it, exhausts and consumes itself, like fabled Araline, spinning its substance into filmy nothings."

"Filmy nothings! Thank you. I flatter myself, when I am safely housed under marble, the world will place a different estimate upon some things I shall leave behind to challenge criticism."

"How much value will public plaudits possess for ears sealed by death?

Mrs. Gerome, you are too lonely; you must have companionship that will divert your thoughts."

"Not I, indeed! All that I require, I have in abundance,--music, books, and my art. Here I am independent, for remember that he was a petted son of fame, who said, 'Books are the true Elysian fields, where the spirits of the dead converse, and into these fields a mortal may venture unappalled. What king's court can boast such company,--what school of philosophy such wisdom?' Verily if you had ever examined my library you would not imagine I lacked companionship. Why sir, yonder,--

'The old, dead authors throng me round about, And Elzevir's gray ghosts from leathern graves look out.'

Count Oxenstiern spoke truly, when he declared, 'Occupied with the great minds of antiquity, we are no longer annoyed by contemporaneous fools.'"

She rose and pointed to the handsome cases in the rear room, filled with choice volumes; and, while she stood with one arm resting on the easel, Dr. Grey looked searchingly at her.

To-day there was a _spirituelle_ beauty in the white face that he had never seen before; and the large eloquent eyes were full of dreamy sunset radiance, unlike their wonted steely glitter. A change, vague and indefinable, but unmistakable, had certainly pa.s.sed over that countenance since its owner came to reside at "Solitude," and, instead of marring, had heightened its loveliness. The features were thinner, the cheeks had lost something of their pure oval moulding, and the delicate nostrils were almost transparent in their waxen curves; but the arch of the lip was softened and lowered, and the face was like that of some marble G.o.ddess on which mid-summer moonshine sleeps.

Her white mull robe was edged at the skirt and up the front with a rich border of blue morning-glories, and a blue cord and ta.s.sel girded it at her waist, while the broad braids of hair at the back of her head were looped and fastened with a ribbon of the same color. Her sleeves were gathered up to keep them clear of the paint on the palette, and the dimples were no longer visible in her arms. The ivory flesh was shrinking closer to the small bones, and the diaphanous hands were so thin that the sapphire asp glided almost off the slender finger around which it was coiled.