Part 47 (2/2)
”Your son's wife is not so far removed from a colored ancestry as mine is,” rejoined Mr. King; ”but I think you would soon forget her origin, also, if you were in a country where others did not think of it. I believe our American prejudice against color is one of what Carlyle calls 'the phantom dynasties.'”
”It may be so,” she replied coldly; ”but I do not wish to be convinced of it.”
And Mr. King bowed good morning.
A week or two after this interview, Mrs. Fitzgerald called upon Mrs.
King; for, after all, she felt a certain sort of attraction in the secret history that existed between them; and she was unwilling to have the world suppose her acquaintance had been dropped by so distinguished a lady. By inadvertence of the servant at the door, she was shown into the parlor while Henriet was there, with her child on the floor, receiving directions concerning some muslin flounces she was embroidering. Upon the entrance of a visitor, she turned to take up her infant and depart. But Mrs. King said, ”Leave little Hetty here, Mrs. Falkner, till you bring my basket for me to select the floss you need.”
Hetty, being thus left alone, scrambled up, and toddled toward Mrs.
King, as if accustomed to an affectionate reception. The black curls that cl.u.s.tered round her yellow face shook, as her uncertain steps hastened to a place of refuge; and when she leaned against her friend's lap, a pretty smile quivered on her coral lips, and lighted up her large dark eyes.
Mrs. Fitzgerald looked at her with a strange mixture of feelings.
”Don't you think she's a pretty little creature?” asked Mrs. King.
”She might be pretty if the yellow could be washed off,” replied Mrs.
Fitzgerald.
”Her cheeks are nearly the color of your hair,” rejoined Mrs. King; ”and I always thought that beautiful.”
Mrs. Fitzgerald glanced at the mirror, and sighed as she said: ”Ah, yes. My hair used to be thought very pretty when I was young; but I can see that it begins to fade.”
When Henriet returned and took the child, she looked at her very curiously. She was thinking to herself, ”What _would_ my father say?” But she asked no questions, and made no remark.
She had joined a circle of ladies who were sewing and knitting for the soldiers; and after some talk about the difficulty she had found in learning to knit socks, and how fas.h.i.+onable it was for everybody to knit now, she rose to take leave.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.
The months pa.s.sed on, and brought ever-recurring demands for more soldiers. Mr. King watched the progress of the struggle with the deepest anxiety.
One day, when he had seen a new regiment depart for the South, he returned home in a still more serious mood than was now habitual to him. After supper, he opened the Evening Transcript, and read for a while. Then turning to his wife, who sat near him knitting for the army, he said, ”Dear Rosabella, during all the happy years that I have been your husband, you have never failed to encourage me in every good impulse, and I trust you will strengthen me now.”
With a trembling dread of what was coming, she asked, ”What is it, dear Alfred.”
”Rosa, this Republic _must_ be saved,” replied he, with solemn emphasis. ”It is the day-star of hope to the toiling ma.s.ses of the world, and it _must_ not go out in darkness. It is not enough for me to help with money. I ought to go and sustain our soldiers by cheering words and a brave example. It fills me with shame and indignation when I think that all this peril has been brought upon us by that foul system which came so near making a wreck of _you_, my precious one, as it has wrecked thousands of pure and gentle souls. I foresee that this war is destined, by mere force of circ.u.mstances, to rid the Republic of that deadly incubus. Rosa, are you not willing to give me up for the safety of the country, and the freedom of your mother's race?”
She tried to speak, but utterance failed her. After a struggle with herself, she said: ”Do you realize how hard is a soldier's life? You will break down under it, dear Alfred; for you have been educated in ease and luxury.”
”My education is not finished,” replied he, smiling, as he looked round on the elegant and luxurious apartment. ”What are all these comforts and splendors compared with the rescue of my country, and the redemption of an oppressed race? What is my life, compared with the life of this Republic? Say, dearest, that you will give me willingly to this righteous cause.”
”Far rather would I give my own life,” she said. ”But I will never seek to trammel your conscience, Alfred.”
They spoke together tenderly of the past, and hopefully of the future; and then they knelt and prayed together.
Some time was necessarily spent in making arrangements for the comfort and safety of the family during his absence; and when those were completed, he also went forth to rescue Liberty from the jaws of the devouring dragon. When he bade farewell to Flora's family, he said: ”Look after my precious ones, Blumenthal; and if I never return, see to it that Percival carries out all my plans with regard to George Falkner.”
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