Woman As She Should Be Part 9

Lights streamed gayly from every window of Mr. Hilton's s.p.a.cious and hospitable mansion, where a party of friends had a.s.sembled to celebrate the return of the long-lost Agnes. This gentleman, whose letter had confirmed to Arthur, while yet in France, the painful intelligence of the destruction of the steamer in which Agnes had embarked, and the subsequent supposed shipwreck of its pa.s.sengers, had been among the first to hasten to welcome her home, for a warm admirer of woman in general, Miss Wiltshire had secured his especial regard, and having no daughters of his own, he used often to remark to his excellent wife, that there was but one thing he envied Mr. Denham, and that was the possession of so winningly lovely a niece.

The party had been postponed from time to time, awaiting Mr. Denham's recovery, and it was not until early in July, that his perfect restoration to health, enabled him, together with Mrs. Denham, to accompany his niece on this festive occasion.

Mr. Denham, as he entered the brilliantly illuminated drawing-room, seemed by his appearance almost to have recovered his youth, so much so, as to call forth from more than one of the company,--

"The old gentleman is looking twenty years younger, than when I last saw him. What a change the return of his niece has made."

Mr. and Mrs. Denham were accompanied by Mr. Clifford, on whose arm Agnes leaned as she entered the room. His fine form, no longer enveloped in sailor-garb, but in more appropriate costume, was displayed to full advantage, and elicited the admiration of not a few of the ladies, as the whispers, here and there, of "What a fine looking-man; so tall, and dignified, so imposing in appearance,"--bore ample testimony.

Agnes was attired in snowy white; a few rose-buds forming her only ornament; her face was lit up with a joyous smile, as she greeted one after another of her old companions; and there was something in the expression of that countenance, a blending of the highest and loftiest emotions, with all the social tenderness in which woman finds her chief earthly happiness, so irresistibly attractive, that he who could turn away coldly or unmoved, must indeed be a cynic, if not the veriest stoic that ever trod our beautiful earth.

In a recess, formed by a large bow window, and which, though at the furthest end of the room, was admirably fitted for a looker-on, commanding, as it did, a view of the whole, two ladies were seated, busily engaged in that most delightful of occupations, gossiping, for which they found ample material, as guest after guest paid their respects to the mistress of the dwelling.

"Only look," said the elderly lady, addressing her companion, as Arthur crossed the room, to speak to Agnes; "just look, what a melancholy appearance Mr. Bernard wears. I wonder where his sister is to-night?"

"I heard Mr. Clifford, who you know is a visitor there, say that she had a violent toothache, and his mother, fearing she would feel lonely, had remained at home with her."

"Mr. Clifford's mother! You surely do not mean that that old lady, Mrs.

Cartwright, who accompanied the Bernards on their return from France, is the mother of that fine looking young man?"

"Yes, indeed, his is quite a romantic history."

"Oh, I should like to hear it of all things. Do oblige me by narrating it, will you? You are so intimate with the Bernards, that you have an opportunity of hearing everything."

The younger lady's face wore a gratified expression, for it was very pleasant to learn, whatever the facts of the matter really were, that others believed her on terms of close intimacy with a family, whose high standing in the community had never been disputed; and she now gladly complied with the request, certain that it would afford to her friend confirmation of her previously expressed opinion, "strong as Holy Writ."

"You must know, then," she commenced, "that when Ella was visiting the South of France for the benefit of her health, (for I told Mr. Bernard, again and again, before they left, that nothing but change of air would restore her,) she met with this Mrs. Cartwright, whose own home was in America, but who was then on a visit to a relative. They became quite intimate in a short time, and Ella, on her return to B----, persuaded Mrs. Cartwright to accompany them, and to spend some time with them.

"A widow and childless, as she then supposed, and having no near kin to bind her to her home, she accepted Ellen's invitation, and, accordingly, they all returned together.

"But this old lady, it appears, had a son, the child of a previous marriage,--for she has buried two husbands,--who, some five years ago, sailed on some distant voyage, I do not exactly know what his destination. However, no tidings were ever received of the vessel having reached the desired port, and, of course, Mrs. Cartwright, who Ella told me was exceedingly attached to him, mourned him bitterly as one dead.

But instead of being lost at sea, he had been picked up, the only survivor of the shipwrecked vessel, by Moorish pirates, who, taking him into their country, sold him as a slave.

"He managed to make his escape somehow, about six months ago, though he had a terrible time of it; but he succeeded getting on board an English vessel, which was just about leaving for America."

"But how did he come to meet with Miss Wiltshire?"

"Why the vessel put into the place where Agnes was conveyed by the Captain of the fishing schooner, who went to her rescue, and, of course, Agnes gladly availed herself of the opportunity to return home, and this accounts, in part, for their intimacy."

"And how did Mr. Clifford meet with his mother? Surely he did not expect to find her here?"

"No; it was a very singular coincidence. Mr. Bernard happened to be at Mr. Denham's when Agnes, accompanied by Mr. Clifford, arrived there; and in the course of subsequent conversation with him, Mr. Bernard ascertained that he was the son of the very lady who was then a guest at his dwelling, and, of course, insisted that he, also, should be a partaker of his hospitality."

"What a strange circ.u.mstance," loudly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the attentive listener, "and how delighted the old lady must have been. You know I was out of town at the time, and never heard the rights of the matter."

"Yes, I remember, and the old lady, as you say, was indeed delighted, so much so, that at first she was completely overcome. She took immediately to her bed, from which she has not been able to rise, till within the last few weeks."

"Ah, so that is the reason they have resided so long at Mr. Bernard's."

"That is one reason, but I strongly suspect there is another and greater," was the reply, as the younger lady, observing that Mr. Bernard had approached, and stood by a table near examining some very exquisitely carved ornaments, thought it a good opportunity to give him, without pretending to notice his proximity, some little information,--information which might hereafter aid in accomplishing her own well-planned schemes.

"You said he had another reason for remaining so long, did you not, Maria?"

"Oh, yes, and one palpable enough to any person who has eyes. Just look yonder, and you will see for yourself."

Mr. Bernard involuntarily raised his eyes, and glanced at the spot indicated. At a side-table, a little apart from the others, Agnes was seated, looking over a large and elegant portfolio, the peculiar beauties of whose admirable engravings, Ernest Clifford seemed eagerly pointing out, as he bent over her chair; his handsome countenance lit up with a smile of pleasurable emotion.

"Ah, yes, I understand you now, Maria. But I heard Mr. Bernard had some partiality that way."

"Hush, speak lower, for he is standing at the table near you."

"Oh, dear me, I had no idea he was so handy."

"That was mere idle gossip, I a.s.sure you," was the reply, as the tones sank into a whisper. "I have the best evidence in the world as to that."

"Well, well, they will make a handsome couple, I must say," remarked Maria's companion, as Mr. Bernard moved away with a firm step, which gave no indication of the mental agony that was rending his soul.

Glad to make his escape, he stepped out from an open window in the balcony, and from thence descended, by a short flight of marble steps, into the large and thickly-shaded garden, which it overlooked.

With a feverish step he traversed its winding walks, until wearied he sank on a rustic seat, beneath the welcome shade of a graceful elm. The sounds of music and mirth came wafted to him through the open cas.e.m.e.nt, and never seemed they less congenial to his feelings.

"If I could only think it some of that ill-natured woman's gossip, I would not care," he said, half aloud, "for the mind that could indite such an epistle as Ella received, containing the account of Agnes's supposed death, would be capable of anything,--but, alas, I fear it is too true.

'Her heart it is another's, and It never can be mine.'

Yes, she appears reserved, almost cold with me. I am evidently shunned by her, while =he= is welcomed most warmly, whenever he appears. But I cannot blame her. It was natural that an acquaintance, thus strangely formed, should lead to such a result, and he, too, yes, he is worthy of her. He loves her dearly, I am sure of that; but never, never can he regard her as I do."

Again the sounds of music swelled on the balmy evening breeze. It was now a woman's voice that warbled clear and sweet a touching strain.

"It is Agnes," he murmured, adding as a fine manly voice took up another part, "and that is Ernest Clifford. My fondest hopes, a long, a last, farewell."

CHAPTER XIV.

A fortnight had elapsed subsequent to the festivity recorded in the preceding chapter, when, late one afternoon, Arthur,--who had been engaged from early morning in a distant part of the city, transacting some business of importance,--as he returned, pa.s.sing by Mr. Denham's dwelling, suddenly came in contact with Mr. Clifford, who, with a quick, eager step, and a countenance all aglow with some pleasurable emotion, was hurrying on, so absorbed in his own thoughts, that he was only arrested by the sound of his friend's voice.

"You seem to be in a great hurry, Clifford," said Arthur smiling, though it must be confessed his heart felt little attuned to mirth; "and, judging from the expression of your countenance, combined with your unusual absent-mindedness, something more than usual must have occurred, and that of a very pleasurable nature, to have thus excited you."

"You have made a capital guess of it, Arthur. I have been putting forth every energy of late to win a priceless treasure, and after a desperate effort, have succeeded. Is not that a subject for congratulation?"

"At last, at last, she is won," inwardly murmured poor Arthur, while his whole frame seemed convulsed, but controlling himself, as he observed his companion's glance fixed eagerly upon him, he replied, in a tone which, in spite of his efforts, sounded cold and somewhat ungracious.

"I shall be a better judge of that, Clifford, when I know what the nature of the prize, and whether it was valuable enough to warrant the efforts put forth to obtain it."

"=Valuable=, there is no boon on earth to be compared to it. I might exhaust comparisons in vain to furnish a fit simile; for, in it, is combined all that is lovely, virtuous and excellent. To descend, however, from parable, in order to enlighten you, allow me to say," and a slight flush mounted to the speaker's face, while his companion's cheek grew ashy pale, "that I have been so truly fortunate as to secure a place in the affections of a woman, to my mind, the loveliest of her s.e.x. But, happy as I am in obtaining such an avowal, there is one drawback to my felicity; her consent must be ratified, so she affirms, by a beloved relative, before I am to consider it binding. And I--do you know, Arthur--I never dreamed I was a coward until now; but it seems such presumption in me to expect a man to part with a flower that he has tenderly nurtured and cherished, that it may adorn with its beauty and grace another homestead, far removed, perhaps, from the eyes that delighted to watch its expanding charms."