Was It Right to Forgive? Part 20

"But I cannot--I cannot let her marry. I cannot give her up--and to that man!"

"If we have been recreant to our duty, Emma, and he is willing to a.s.sume our arrears, and do it for us in the future, we deserve to endure loss and obligation because we did not honor our office as parents."

"I am sure I have never had a single thought but for my children."

"Well, well! In the morning we shall perhaps understand things better.

Trouble, like a turbid river, runs itself clear in the night."

They talked thus for hours, but nothing further was reached. And Rose was just as wretched and restless. As they pa.s.sed through the dining-room, which was under Rose's room, they heard her slowly pacing up and down the floor, though it was then long past midnight. For Rose's conscience was still very quick, and she was quite capable of estimating the sin and folly of her afternoon's escapade, so that the tide of self-reproach went on rising, until she could not struggle against it. A disgust of all things, but especially of herself, darkened both the past and the future; and she felt the wretchedness of a combat where defeat had followed defeat, until her thoughts were all remorse. Those few hours of the past afternoon--dull enough while she possessed them--returned to her memory only to make her feel how much more they might have given. She had disappointed and deceived her mother to obtain them, and what had they brought her? Nothing but an intolerable shame and remorse.

Spiritually, she felt a prostration worse than death. She told herself that she had prayed, that she had asked G.o.d to help her, and that he had not done so. If G.o.d had so willed, it need not have been thus with her. But alas! accusing G.o.d brought her no comfort; her conscience continually reminded her of what she had done, and what she had left undone--of her selfishness--her lost time--her idle languors--her hypocrisy--her rebellion against G.o.d,--all these sins she realized, and she hated herself for them.

Still, this very activity of despair was hopeful; for it is not despair, but the sombre inertia of despondency, that is fatal to improvement. It was the happiest thing in the world for Rose that she was capable of being unhappy. For when she met with herself thus, she felt the need of meeting with G.o.d. If she had suffered less, she might have been content to leave G.o.d in heaven; but this utter sense of misery and weakness made her at last fall humbly before "the Father which is in heaven," and murmur, "Have mercy upon me!" And with that prayer, she slept.

Very early in the morning Antony called on Mr. Filmer. But there was no need to apologize for the hour. Mr. Filmer was possessed by the necessity for rapid action, and he welcomed Antony the more warmly for his prompt.i.tude.

"I am a lover, Mr. Filmer," said Antony, "and you know lovers run ahead of the clock. I love Miss Filmer most sincerely, and I desire to make her my wife. Of course, this desire implies the means to support her in the position to which she has been accustomed, and I have therefore brought you this schedule of my income to examine."

Mr. Filmer lifted the paper and read its contents with the caution and respect the circ.u.mstances warranted. He laid it down with an air of pleasure and astonishment. "This is an extraordinary record of property for so young a man as you are, Mr. Van Hoosen."

"I have had extraordinary good fortune, sir. As you see, my share in the hotel, of itself, insures Miss Filmer's adequate support; and I am desirous to make over to her absolutely, for her own use in any way she wishes, the income from the Aladdin Reef mine. It is now worth from eight to ten thousand dollars yearly. I only ask that our marriage may not be delayed, as I desire to go to Europe early in April; and if I could take Rose with me, I should count myself the most fortunate man in the world."

"You have my full consent to all you desire, Mr. Van Hoosen. Perhaps I ought to say something about Rose. Do you know my daughter well enough to make her your wife? She is not without faults, sir."

"Neither am I without faults, Mr. Filmer. I think perhaps those who have something to forgive may love the best. If Rose will take me with my faults, I shall be most favored and fortunate."

"Then, Mr. Van Hoosen, go and ask her."

"Sir, I will call this afternoon for her answer. It may be that in the interim you can say a word in my favor; and I must not lose a single aid to success. I had hoped to have won her without calling in the question of my wealth, but there are now reasons which seem to make delay inadvisable. Therefore, I must gain all I can from any circ.u.mstance."

"I shall say everything in your favor that is possible, sir; but at the last, you know, it is Rose that must decide."

Still Mr. Filmer was well aware that Antony had acted with great discrimination. No one is insensible to the power of wealth and all that wealth can give, and Antony's fortune was sufficiently large to command respect. When Mrs. Filmer followed the suitor, she found her husband walking excitedly about the room.

"Do you know, Emma," he said, "that Rose has the opportunity to make a stupendously fortunate marriage? The man is worth a couple of millions, and his property is of that kind that grows while he sleeps and plays. He owns half of one of the largest hotels in this country, ranches and cattle, and a good deal of excellent mining stock. He has real estate in most of the growing towns on the Pacific coast, and a lot of property in San Francisco. Why, the man actually proposes to settle about ten thousand dollars yearly on Rose, to simply do as she likes with. I am amazed! I am grateful beyond measure!"

"The idea! Who could have imagined that man owning anything of consequence? And yet, he always had that air of sublime indifference which rests itself upon a good bank account. I do hope Rose will be reasonable."

"He wishes to marry immediately, for he desires to take Rose to Europe early in April, for a year's travel. The prospect for the dear girl is all we could desire--and such a good, honorable, strong man, Emma! He will be Rose's salvation. I am sure he is a lover that even her good angel would approve."

"We shall see. Rose will need some management. She is often very cross in the morning, and disposed to dislike every one."

This morning, however, Rose was in her sweetest and most obliging mood. Something of the night's struggle yet lingered in her subdued and conciliating manner; and Mrs. Filmer fortunately chose the subject most suitable for the condition--her daughter's weary look, and the necessity for some rest. "Your father was talking seriously about going back to Woodsome," she said. "I never saw him more determined about anything."

"That would be so ridiculous! You never would do such a thing, mamma, not for two or even three months?"

"He spoke of going in a day or two. He finds the city's noise and exigencies very trying. But you need not go, unless you desire."

"And pray, who would chaperon me?"

"Perhaps Miss Alida Van Hoosen."

"Oh, mamma! You know she has Yanna with her; and besides, their way of living is unutterably dull and stupid--lectures and concerts, and such things. I could not endure it, and they could not endure me."

"Your father had an offer for your hand this morning; but, of course, you will refuse it."

"Of course I shall if the offer came from Antony Van Hoosen, as I suspect it does."

"The man really thought that his enormous wealth would count with you; for he must have known it could not affect your father."

"His enormous wealth! Pray, when did Antony become enormously wealthy?"

"He must have been rich for some time. Your father says he brought him the evidences of millions--fancy it, Rose, _of millions!_ And he offered to settle a large yearly income on you, just to do as you please with."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"Hum--m--m!"

"Your father was quite firm with him. He said the decision was yours entirely, and that he would have to take your 'yes' or 'no' in the matter."

"I should think so! The idea of going to father at all!"

"As for that, it was right to show your father his position. Money is such a wonderful thing! I am sure I wish I had some of his millions!

For, do you know, Rose, Harry's rapid life lately has been a dreadful thing for us. I relied upon Harry doing as much as he always has done, but my hopes have all been vain. He talks about the depression of business; but, my dear, it is the expansion in his own life. Club after club, and all of them cost a living. And then he has other expenses, which I do not care to name to you. I think Harry has been cruelly forgetful of us. Just look at that pile of bills on my table.

They make me sick."

"Why do you not carry them to papa?"

"They are bills for costumes and such things. Your father would take a fit over them. Harry has always helped me out of such dilemmas before.

But he has been running an awful rig this winter."

"It would have been better if he had married Yanna."

"Do not name the girl. I wish I had never seen her. And now, her brother wanting to marry you! It is too absurd!"

"I--do--not--know--about--that. You say _millions_!"

"Millions! That is what your father told me, and he saw the vouchers for them. People like the Van Hoosens, with all that money! and _we_ on the verge of bankruptcy!"

"Most of the Van Hoosens are rich. Look at Miss Alida. Father says no one can keep an acre of land for her. Where is Antony's property?"

"It is in San Francisco, chiefly. My dear, he owns half an hotel, and has nothing to do but sit still in New York, or Paris, or anywhere, and get the results sent to him. And he has property in mines, and cattle, and land, and lots of real estate, all down the Pacific coast.

The man is vulgarly rich."

"Antony is not vulgar, mamma. One ought to give even the devil his due. I have often noticed him in a room, and he wears a dress suit as well as any one. Besides, you know, he really does belong to a very good old family."

"Well, he is going to Paris, London, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Rome, and I know not where else; so he will doubtless acquire some foreign polish. He is an old friend of the California grand dame who queens it over the American colony in Paris, so he is sure to be a great favorite at the French court. Oh, it takes Europeans to appreciate California millionaires."