Vashti Part 53

"When were you in Madeira?"

"Two years ago. The villa I occupied was situated on the side of a mountain, whose base was covered with vineyards; and from a grove of lemon and oleanders that stood in front of the house I could see the surging Atlantic at my feet, and the crest of the mountain clothed with chestnuts, high above and behind me. In one corner of my vineyard stood a solitary palm, which tradition a.s.serted was planted when Zarco discovered the island; and the groves of orange, citron, and pomegranate trees were always peopled with humming-birds, and flocks of green canaries. There, surrounded by grand and picturesque scenery of which I never wearied, I resolved to live and die; but Elsie's desire to return to America, which held the ashes of her husband and child, overruled my inclination and the dictates of judgment, and reluctantly I left my mountain Eden and came here. Now, when I smell violets and heliotrope, regret mingles with their aroma; and, after all, the sacrifice was in vain, and Elsie would have slept as calmly there, under palm and chestnut, as yonder, where the deodar-shadows fall."

"Is your life here a faithful transcript of that portion of it pa.s.sed at Funchal?"

"Yes; except that there I saw no human being but the servants, who transacted any business that demanded interviews with the consul."

"It was fortunate that Elsie's wise counsel prevailed over your caprice, for many of your griefs proceed from the complete isolation to which you so strangely doom yourself; and until you become a useful member of that society you are so fully fitted to adorn and elevate, you need not hope or expect the peace of mind that results only from the consciousness of having n.o.bly discharged the sacred obligations to G.o.d, and to your race. 'Bear ye one another's burdens,' was the solemn admonition of Him who sublimely bore the burdens of an entire world.

Now tell me, have you ever stretched out a finger to aid the toiling mult.i.tudes whose cry for help wails over even the most prosperous lands? What have you done to strengthen trembling hands, or comfort and gladden oppressed hearts? How dare you h.o.a.rd within your own home the treasure of fortune, talent, and sympathy, which were temporarily entrusted to your hands, to be sown broadcast in n.o.ble charities,--to be judiciously invested in promoting the cause of Truth in the fierce war Evil wages against it? Hitherto you have lived solely for yourself, which is a sin against humanity; and have pampered a morbid and rebellious spirit, that is a grevious sin against your G.o.d. Shake off your lethargy and cynicism, and let a busy future redeem a vagrant and worthless past. '_He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him._'"

The flowers dropped on her bosom, and, clasping her hands across her forehead, she turned her face towards the sea, and seemed pondering his words.

"Dr. Grey, my purse has always been open to the needy, and Elsie was my almoner. Whenever you find a dest.i.tute family, or hear an appeal for help, I shall gladly respond, and const.i.tute you the agent for the distribution of my charity-fund. As for bearing the sorrows of others, pray excuse me. I am so weighed down with my own burdens that I have no strength or leisure to spare to my neighbors, and since I ask no aid, must not be censured for rendering none. It is utterly useless to urge me to enter society, for like that sad pilgrim in Brittany, 'In losing solitude I lose the half of my soul. I go out into the world with a secret horror. When I withdraw, I gather together and lock up my scattered treasure, but I put away my ideas sorely handled, like fruits fallen from the tree upon stones.' No, no; in seclusion I find the only modic.u.m of peace that earth can ever yield me, and can readily understand why Chateaubriand avoided those crowds which he denominated, 'The vast desert of men.'"

"You must not be offended, if, in reply, I remind you of the rude but vigorous words of that prince of cynics, Schopenhauer, 'Society is a fire at which the wise man from a prudent distance warms himself; not plunging into it, like the fool who after getting well blistered, rushes into the coldness of solitude, and complains that the fire burns.' Of the two evils, reckless dissipation and gloomy isolation, the latter is probably an economy of sin; but since neither is inevitable, we should all endeavor to render ourselves useful members of society, and unfurl over our circle the banner of St. Paul, 'Use this world as not abusing it.' Mrs. Gerome, do not obstinately mar the present and future, by brooding bitterly over the trials of the past; but try to believe that, indeed,--

... 'Sorrows humanize our race; Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.

And memory of things precious keepeth warm The heart that once did hold them.'"

He watched her eagerly yet gravely, hoping that her face would soften; but she raised her hand with a proud, impatient motion.

"You talk at random, concerning matters of which you know nothing. I hate the world and have abjured it, and you might as well go down yonder and harangue the ocean on the sin of its ceaseless muttering, as expect to remodel my aimless, blank life."

Pained and disappointed, he remained silent, and, as if conscious of a want of courtesy, she added,--

"Do not allow your generous heart to be disquieted on my account, but leave me to a fate which can not be changed,--which I have endured seven years, and must bear to my grave. Now that you see how desolate I am, pity me, and be silent."

"It will be difficult for you to regain your strength here, where so many mournful a.s.sociations surround you, and I came to-day to beg you to take a trip somewhere, by sea or land. Almost any change of scene and air will materially benefit you, and you need not be absent more than a few weeks. Will you take the matter under consideration?"

"No, sir; why should I? Can hills or waves, dells or lakes, cure a mind which you a.s.sure me is diseased? Can sea breeze or mountain air fan out recollections that have jaundiced the heart, or furnish an opiate that will effectually deaden and quiet regret? I long ago tried your remedy--travelling, and for four years I wandered up and down, and over the face of the old world; but amid the crumbling columns of Persepolis, I was still Agla Gerome, the wretched; and when I stood on the margin of the Lake of Wan, I saw in its waves the reflection of the same hopeless woman who now lies before you. Change of external surroundings is futile, and no more affects the soul than the roar of surface-surf changes the hollow of an ocean bed where the dead sleep; and, verily,--

'My heart is a drear Golgotha, where all the ground is white With the wrecks of joys that have perished,--the skeletons of delight.'"

He saw that in her present mood expostulation would only aggravate the evil he longed to correct, and hoping to divert the current of her thoughts, he said,--

"I trust you will not deem me impertinently curious if I ask what singular freak bestowed upon you the name of 'Agla'?"

A startling change swept over her features, and her tone was haughtily challenging.

"What interest can Dr. Grey find in a matter so trivial? If I were named Hecate or Persephone, would the world have a right to demur, to complain, or to criticise?"

"When a lady bears the mystic name, which, in past ages, was given to the Deity, by a race who, if superst.i.tious, were at least devout and reverent, she should not be surprised if it excites wonder and comment. Forgive me, however, if my inquiry annoyed you."

He rose and took his hat, but her hand caught his arm.

"Do you know the import of the word?"

"Yes; I understand the significance of the letters, and the wonderful power attributed to them when arranged in the triangles and called the 'Shield of David.' Knowing that it was considered talismanic, I could not imagine why you were christened with so mystical a name."

"I was never christened."

He could not explain the confusion and displeasure which the question excited, and anxious to relieve her of any feeling of annoyance, he added,--

"Have you ever looked into the nature of the _Aglaophotis_?"

She struggled up from her cushions, and exclaimed, with a vehemence that startled him,--

"What induced you to examine it? I know that it is a strange plant, growing out of solid marble, and accounted a charm by Arab magicians.

Well, Dr. Grey, do not I belong to that species? You see before you a human specimen of _Aglaophotis_, growing out of a marble heart."

Sometimes an exaggerated whimsicality trenches so closely upon insanity, that it is difficult to discriminate between them; and, as Dr. Grey noted the peculiarly cold glitter of her large eyes, and the restless movement of her usually quiet hands, he dreaded that the crushing weight on her heart would ultimately impair her mind. Now he abruptly changed the topic.

"Mrs. Gerome, whenever it is agreeable to you to drive down the beach or across the woods and among the hills, it will afford me much pleasure to place my horse, buggy, and myself at your disposal; and, in fine weather like this, a drive of a few miles would invigorate you."

"Thank you. I shall not trouble you, for I have my low-swung easy carriage, and my grays--my fatal grays. Ah if they would only serve me as they did my poor Elsie! When I am strong enough to take the reins, I will allow them an opportunity. Dr. Grey, if I seem rude, forgive me. You are very kind and singularly patient, and sometimes when you have left me, I feel ashamed of my inability to prove my sincere appreciation of your goodness. For these beautiful flowers, I thank you cordially."

She held out her hand, and, as he accepted it, he drew from his pocket the silver key which he had so carefully preserved.

"Accident made me the custodian of this key, which I found on the floor the day of Elsie's burial. Knowing that it belonged to your escritoire, whence I saw you take it, I thought it best not to commit it to a servant's care, and have kept it in my pocket until I thought you might need it."

Although the room was growing dim, he detected the expression of dread that crossed her countenance, and saw her bite her thin lip with vexation.

"You have worn for one month the key of my desk, where lie all my papers and records; and when I was so desperately ill, I presume you looked into the drawers, merely to ascertain whether I had prepared my will?"

The mockery of her tone stung him keenly, but he allowed no evidence of the wound to escape him. Bending over her as she sat partially erect, supported by cushions, he took her white face tenderly in his hands, and said, very calmly and gently,--

"When you know me better, you will realize how groundless is your apprehension that I have penetrated into the recesses of your writing-desk. Knowing that it contained valuable papers, I guarded it as jealously as you could have done; and, upon the honor of a gentleman, I a.s.sure you I am as ignorant of its contents as if I had never entered the house. When I consider it essential to my peace of mind to become acquainted with your antecedents, I shall come to you and ask what I desire to learn. While you were so ill, I told Robert that your friends should be notified of your imminent danger, and inquired of him whether you had made a will, as I deemed it my duty to inform your agent of your alarming condition. He either could not or would not give me any satisfactory reply, and there the matter ended.

When I am gone, do not reproach yourself for having so unjustly impugned my motives, for I shall not allow myself to believe that you really entertain so contemptible an opinion of me; and shall ascribe your hasty accusation to mere momentary chagrin and pique."

"Ah, sir! you ought not to wonder that I am so suspicious; you--but how can you understand the grounds of my distrust, unless--"

"Hush! We will not discuss a matter which can only excite and annoy you. Mrs. Gerome, under all circ.u.mstances you may unhesitatingly trust me, and I beg to a.s.sure you I shall never divulge anything confided to me. You need a friend, and perhaps some day you may consider me worthy to serve you in that capacity; meantime, as your physician, I shall continue to watch over and control you. To-day you have cruelly overtasked your exhausted system, and I can not permit you to remain here any longer. Come immediately to your own room."

His manner was so quietly authoritative that she obeyed instantly, and when he lifted her from the sofa, she took his arm, and walked towards the door. Before they had crossed the hall, he felt her reel and lean more heavily against him, and silently he took the thin form in his arms, and carried her to her room.

The gray head was on his shoulder, and the cold marble cheek touched his, as he laid her softly down on her bed and arranged her pillows.

He rang for Katie, and, in crossing the floor, stepped on something hard. It was too dusky in the closely curtained apartment to see any object so small, but he swept his hand across the carpet and picked up the key that had slipped from her nerveless fingers. Placing it beside her, he smiled and said,--

"You are incorrigibly careless. Are you not afraid to tax my curiosity so severely, and tempt me so pertinaciously, by strewing your keys in my path? The next time I pick up this one, which belongs to your escritoire, I shall engage some one to act as your guardian. Katie, be sure she takes that tonic mixture three times a day. Good-night."

When the sound of his retreating footsteps died away, Mrs. Gerome thrust the key under her pillow, and murmured,--

"I wonder whether this Ulpian can be as true, as trusty, as n.o.bly fearless as his grand old Roman namesake, whom not even the purple of Severus could save from martyrdom? Ah! if Ulpian Grey is really all that he appears. But how dare I hope, much less believe it? Verily, he reminds me of Madame de Chatenay's description of Joubert, 'He seems to be a soul that by accident had met with a body, and tried to make the best of it.'"

"Did you speak to me, ma'am?" asked Katie, who was bustling about, preparing to light the lamp.

"No. The room is like a tomb. Open the blinds and loop back all the curtains, so that I can look out."

"And the sunset paled, and warmed once more With a softer, tenderer after-glow; In the east was moon-rise, with boats off-sh.o.r.e And sails in the distance drifting slow."