Wives and Widows; or The Broken Life Part 12

CHAPTER XV.

THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT.

After the party was out of sight, I went into Mrs. Dennison's room to see that the maid had performed her duty, as was my custom; for I had a.s.sumed these light cares in the household, and loved them from the fact that they attached an idea of usefulness to my residence in the house.

Everything seemed in order. Cora, the mulatto girl, was busily arranging the dress her mistress had just taken off. Ear-rings and a brooch of blue lava were lying on the toilet, and the pretty cap, with its streamers of black velvet and azure ribbon, hung upon one of the supports of the dressing-table, as she had left them.

I looked for the basket of mossrose-buds, but it was gone; some buds were opening in one of the toilet-gla.s.ses, but that was all. Why had the widow Dennison taken such pains to put the basket out of sight?

"What have you done with the basket?" I inquired very quietly of the girl. "If you wet the moss again, we can fill it with fresh flowers."

"What basket, Miss?" inquired the girl, lifting her black eyes innocently to my face.

"The basket you brought in here last evening."

"Oh, that!" she continued, dropping her eyes; "I've made so many of them things that mistress doesn't seem to care for 'em any more."

"You--you make them?"

"Yes, indeed! Is there any harm, Miss?" she said, lifting her eyes again, with a look of genuine earnestness.

"And you arranged those buds in the moss?"

"Yes, indeed!"

"And placed the half peach among them?"

"Was there any harm, Miss?"

"The half peach--after an Oriental fashion?"

"Dear me! I hope there wasn't any harm in the gardener's letting me have that one. It was the first I had seen this year, so I couldn't give up more than I did; but it was the biggest half that I saved for the mistress."

Nothing could be more natural than her dawning contrition, nothing more satisfactory than the solution she had given to a subject that had kept me awake half the night. What a fool I had been! Was I, in fact, becoming fanciful and old-maidish--ready to find error in shadows, and crimes in everything? Heaven forbid that anything so unwomanly and indelicate as this should come upon me.

Was it possible that I, in the waning freshness of my life, had begun to envy brighter and handsomer women the homage due to their attraction, and had thus become suspicious? The very idea humiliated me; I felt abashed before that mulatto girl, who sat so demurely smoothing the folds of her mistress's breakfast-dress across her lap. It seemed as if she must have some knowledge of the mean suspicion that had brought me there. How artful and indirect my conduct had been! In my heart I had rather plumed myself on the adroit way in which my questions had been put regarding that annoying basket. Now, I was heartily ashamed of it all, and stole out of the room bitterly discomfited.

In shutting the door, I glanced back; the girl was looking up from her work. The demure expression had left her face, the black eyes flashed and danced as they followed me; but the moment my look met hers, all this pa.s.sed away so completely, that my very senses were confused, and the doubts that I had put aside came crowding back upon me.

I went up to Mrs. Lee's room. She was resting on the lounge, sound asleep; but her face seemed cold as well as pale. There was a strange look about it, as if all the vitality were stricken out; yet she breathed evenly, and though I made some noise in entering, it did not disturb her in the least.

I sat down on a low chair by the side of her couch; for Jessie had desired me to sit by her during all the time I could command. Thus I was placed close to the gentle sleeper. The deathly stillness in which she lay troubled me; it seemed too profound for healthy slumber. One little hand fell over the couch. I took it in my own, and pa.s.sed my other hand softly over it. Strange enough, she did not move, but began to murmur in her sleep, while a cold, troubled cloud contracted her forehead.

"Ah! now I can see everything--everything; they are cantering by the old mill. I haven't seen it before in years. How beautifully the shadows fall on the water; the waves are tipped with silver; the trees rustle pleasantly! No wonder they draw up to look at the mill; it always was a picturesque object!"

She was following the equestrians in her dreams--those strange dreams that seemed to drink up all the color and warmth from her body.

According to the best calculation I could make, the party would have reached the old mill about this time. It stood under the curve of the precipitous banks, a mile or two up the river, and Mr. Lee had spoken of riding that way at breakfast. Thus it seemed more than probable that the party was exactly as she fancied it. Mr. Lee had doubtless informed her what route he would take, and so her imagination followed him while her frail form slumbered.

She stirred uneasily on her pillow, drew her black eyebrows together, and spoke again:--

"Why does he leave my Jessie? She don't want to be left with that young man;--and he, poor fellow! how frightened he is! What is that he is saying? Wants to marry my Jessie! Alas! how the heart shrinks in her bosom! My poor child! he should not distress you so! Yet it is an honest heart he offers--full of warmth, full of goodness! Can't you understand that, my darling?"

After this speech she lay quiet a few minutes, and then spoke like one who had been examining something that puzzled her.

"Jessie, Jessie! what is this? Why does your heart stand still while he speaks to her? It troubles me, darling. I am your mother, and this thing disturbs me more than you can guess. You have driven one away--he retreats to the rear, heart-broken. That other one comes up. Who is he?

what is he? Ask her, for she is watching him, and her loaded heart follows after, though he, my husband, is by her side."

Here she dropped into silence again, only breaking it by faint moans, and a single e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, "Oh, not that! not that!"

Her face grew so painfully wan, and she gave evidence of so much inward anguish, that I was constrained to arouse her. My voice made no impression, and the clasp of my hand only threw her into a more deathly slumber. I began to comprehend her state. I had heard of deep trances, when the soul seems released from the body, or is gifted with something like prophecy. I knew, or believed, that this was an unhealthy state, the result of disease, or the offspring of a badly balanced organization; and this thought horrified me; there was something of the supernatural in it that filled my soul with awe. By the contraction of her pale forehead, I saw that there was some distress in the head; so lifting my hand, I pa.s.sed it across her brow, hoping to soothe away the pain.

Certainly, the face became calm, a smile stole across the lips, and after a moment her eyes opened, and looked vaguely around, as a child awakes from its sleep.

CHAPTER XVI.

AFTER DREAMING.

"I have been asleep," said Mrs. Lee, pleasantly; "sound asleep. When did you come in?"

"Only a short time since."

"And you have been sitting here while I slept?"

"Yes; after a restless night, I fancied a quiet sleep would do you no harm."

"Harm? It has given me strength."

"Do you think so?"

She smiled.

"Have you been dreaming again?" I inquired, a little anxiously.

"Dreaming? No, my sleep was profound, perfect rest. But where is Jessie?

She sat where you are when I fell off."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, I remember--her left hand held mine, with her right she was soothing the pain from my forehead."