Vashti Part 55

"My dear child, did you suppose that I would permit you to travel alone to New York, and thrust yourself upon the notice of strangers? I will accompany you whenever you go, and not only present you to the professor, but request him to receive you into his family as a member of his home-circle."

A quiver shook out the hard lines around her lips, and she turned her eyes full on his.

"You are very kind, sir, but that is not necessary; and a letter of introduction will have the same effect, and save you from a disagreeable trip. Your time is too valuable to be wasted on such journeys, and I have no right to expect that solely on my account you should tear yourself away--from--those dear to you."

"I think my time could not be more profitably employed than in promoting the happiness and welfare of my adopted sister, who was so inexpressibly dear to my n.o.ble Janet. It is neither pleasant nor proper for a young lady to travel without an escort."

He had risen, and laid his hand lightly on the back of her chair.

"She smiled; but he could see arise Her soul from far adown her eyes, Prepared as if for sacrifice."

"Is it a mercy, think you, Dr. Grey, to foster a fastidiousness that can only barb the shafts of penury? What right have toiling paupers to harbor in their thoughts those dainty scruples that belong appropriately to princesses and palaces? Why tell me that this, that, or the other step is not 'proper,' when you know that necessity goads me? Sir, I feel now like that isolated Florentine, and echo her words,--

... 'And since help Must come to me from those who love me not, Farewell, all helpers. I must help myself, And am alone from henceforth.'"

"You prefer that I should not accompany you to New York?"

"Yes, sir; but I gratefully accept a letter to Professor V----."

"Very well; it shall be in readiness when you wish it. Have you fixed any time for your departure?"

"This is Friday,--and I shall go on the six o'clock train, Monday morning."

"Is there any service that I can render you in the interim?"

"No, thank you."

"As you have no likeness of the children, would it be agreeable to you to have their photographs taken to-day,--and, at the same time, a picture of yourself to be left with them? If you desire it I will meet you in town, at the gallery, at any hour you may designate."

Standing before him, she answered, almost scornfully,--

"I shall not have time. Some day--if I succeed--I will send them my photograph, taken in gorgeous robes as _prima donna_; provided you promise that said robes shall not const.i.tute a _San Benito_, and doom the picture to the flames. I will detain you no longer, Dr. Grey, as the sole object of the interview has been accomplished."

"Pardon me; but I have a word to say. Your career will probably be brilliantly successful, in which event you will feel no want of admirers and friends,--and will doubtless ignore me for those who flatter you more, and really love you less. But, Salome, failure may overtake you, bringing in its train countless evils that at present you can not realize,--poverty, disease, desolation, in the midst of strangers,--and all the woes that, like hungry wolves, attack homeless, isolated women. I earnestly hope that the leprous hand of disaster and defeat may never be laid upon your future, but the most cautious human schemes are fallible--often futile--and if you should be unsuccessful in your programme, and find yourself unable to consummate your plans, I ask you now, by the memory of our friendship, by the sacred memory of the dead, to promise me that you will immediately write and acquaint me with all your needs, your wishes, your real condition. Promise me, dear Salome, that you will turn instantly to me, as you would to Stanley, were he in my place,--that you will let me prove myself your elder brother,--your truest, best friend."

He put his hand on her head, but she recoiled haughtily from his touch.

"Dr. Grey, I promise you,

'I will not soil thy purple with my dust, Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-gla.s.s.'

I promise you that if misfortune, failure, and penury lay hold of me, you shall be the last human being who will learn it; for I will cloak myself under a name that will not betray me, and crawl into some lazaretto, and be buried in some potter's field, among other mendicants,--unknown, 'unwept, unhonored, and unsung.'"

If some motherless young chamois, rescued from destruction, and pampered and caressed, had suddenly turned, and savagely bitten and lacerated the hand that fondled and fed it, Dr. Grey would not have been more painfully startled; but experience had taught him the uselessness of expostulation during her moods of perversity, and he took his hat and turned away, saying, almost sternly,--

"Bear in mind that neither palace nor potter's field can screen you from the scrutiny of your Maker, or mask and shelter your shivering soul in the solemn hour when He demands its last reckoning."

"Which 'reckoning,' your eminently Christian charity a.s.sures you will prove more terrible for me than the b.l.o.o.d.y a.s.sizes. 'By the memory of our friendship!' Oh, shallow sham! Pinning my faith to the _dictum_, 'The tide of friendship does not rise high on the bank of perfection,'

my fatuity led me to expect that your friendship was wide as the universe, and lasting as eternity. Wise Helvetius told me that, 'To be loved, we should merit but little esteem; all superiority attracts awe and aversion;' _ergo_, since my credentials of unworthiness were indisputable, I laid claim to a vast share of your favor. But, alas!

the logic of the seers is well-nigh as hollow as my hopes."

He looked over his shoulder at her, with an expression of pity as profound as that which must have filled the eyes of the angel, who, standing in the blaze of the sword of wrath, watched Adam and Eve go mournfully forth into the blistering heats of unknown lands. Before he could reply, she laughed contemptuously, and continued,--

"_Nil desperandum_, Dr. Grey. Remember that, 'Faith and persistency are life's architects; while doubt and despair bury all under the ruins of any endeavor.' When I have trilled a fortune into that abhorred vacuum, my pocket, I shall go down to the Tigris, and catch the mate to Tobias' fish, and by the cremation thereof, fumigate my pestiferous soul, and smoke out the Asmodeus that has so long and comfortably dwelt there."

"G.o.d grant you a Raphael, as guide on your journey," was his calm, earnest reply, as he disappeared, closing the door after him.

When the sound of his buggy-wheels on the gravelled avenue told her he had gone, she threw herself on the floor, and crossing her arms on a chair, hid her face in them.

During Sat.u.r.day, no opportunity presented itself for renewing the conversation, and early on Sunday morning Dr. Grey sent to her room a package marked $1,000.00--though really containing $1,500.00--and a letter addressed to Professor V----. Without examining either, she threw them into her trunk, which was already packed, and went down to breakfast.

She declined accompanying Miss Dexter and Muriel to church, alleging, as an excuse, that it was the last day she could spend with the children.

Dr. Grey approached her when the remainder of the family had left the table, where she sat abstractedly jingling her fork and spoon.

He noticed that her breakfast was untasted, and said, very gently,--

"I suppose that you wish to visit our dear Jane's grave, before you leave us, and, if agreeable to you, I shall be glad to have you accompany me there to-day."

"Thank you; but if I go, it will be alone."

He stooped to kiss Jessie, who leaned against her sister's chair, and, when he left the room, Salome caught the child in her arms, and pressed her lips twice to the spot where his had rested.

Late in the afternoon she eluded the children's watchful eyes, and stole away from the house, taking the road that led towards "Solitude." In one portion of the osage hedge that surrounded the place, the lower branches had died, leaving a small opening, and here Salome gained access to the grounds. Walking cautiously under the thick and dark ma.s.ses of shrubbery and trees, she reached the arched path near the clump of pyramidal deodars, whose long, drooping plumes were fluttering in the evening wind.

Thence she could command a view of the house and grounds in front, and thence she saw that concerning which she had come to satisfy herself,--believing that the evidence of her own eyes would fortify her for the approaching trial of separation. Dr. Grey's horse and buggy stood near the side gate, and Dr. Grey was walking very slowly up and down the avenue leading to the beach, while Mrs. Gerome's tall form leaned on his arm, and the greyhound followed sulkily.

Salome had barely time to look upon the spectacle that fired her heart and well-nigh maddened her, ere the dog lifted his head, gave one quick, savage bark, and darted in the direction of the cedars.

Dread of detection and of Dr. Grey's pitying gaze was more potent than fear of the brute, and she ran swiftly towards the gap in the hedge, by which she had effected an entrance into the secluded grounds. Just as she reached it, the greyhound bounded up, and they met in front of the opening. He set his teeth in her clothes, tearing away a streamer of her black dress, and, as she silently struggled, he bit her arm badly, mangling the flesh, from which the blood spouted. Disengaging a shawl which she wore around her shoulders, she threw it over his head, and, as the meshes caught in his collar, and temporarily entangled him, she sprang through the gap, and seized a heavy stick which lay within reach. He followed, snarling and pawing at the shawl that ultimately dropped at Salome's feet; but finding himself beyond the boundary he was expected to guard, and probably satisfied with the punishment already inflicted, he retreated before a well-aimed blow that drove him back into the enclosure.

The instant he started towards the cedars Dr. Grey suspected mischief, and, placing Mrs. Gerome on a bench that surrounded an elm, he hurried in the same direction.

When he reached the spot, the dog was snuffing at a patch of bombazine that lay on the gra.s.s; and, confirmed in his sad suspicion, the doctor pa.s.sed through the opening in the hedge and looked about for the figure which he dreaded, yet expected to see.

Bushy undergrowth covered the ground for some distance, and, hoping that nothing more serious than fright had resulted from the escapade, he stowed away the bombazine fragment in his coat pocket, and slowly retraced his steps.

Secreted by two friendly oaks that spread their low boughs over her, Salome had seen his anxious face peering around for the intruder, and when he abandoned the search and disappeared, she smothered a bitter laugh, and strove to stanch the blood that trickled from the gash by binding her handkerchief over it. Torn muscles and tendons ached and smarted; but the great agony that seemed devouring her heart rendered her almost oblivious of physical pain. In the dusk of coming night she crossed the gloomy forest, where a whippoorwill was drearily lamenting, and, walking over an unfrequented portion of the lawn, went up to her own room.

She bathed and bound up the wound as securely as the use of only one hand would permit, and put on a dress whose sleeves fastened closely at the wrist.

Ere long, Dr. Grey's clear voice echoed through the hall, and the sound made her wince, like the touch of some glowing brand.

"Jessie, where is sister Salome? Tell her tea is ready."

The orphan went down and took her seat, but did not even glance at the master of the house, who looked anxiously at her as she entered.

During the meal Jessie asked for some sweetmeats that were placed in front of her sister, and, as the latter drew the gla.s.s dish nearer, and proceeded to help her, the child exclaimed,--