Part 23 (1/2)

”Yes.”

Mrs. Merwyn's face became rigid, but nothing more was said. When he bade her good-by there was an evident struggle in her heart, but she repressed all manifestations of feeling, and mother and son parted.

CHAPTER XVII.

COMING TO THE POINT.

WHEN the tide has long been rising the time comes for it to recede.

From the moment of Marian's awakening to a desire for a better womanhood, she had been under a certain degree of mental excitement and exaltation. This condition had culminated with the events that wrought up the loyal North into suspense, anguish, and stern, relentless purpose.

While these events had a national and world-wide significance, they also pressed closely, in their consequences, on individual life.

It has been shown how true this was in the experience of Marian.

Her own personal struggle alone, in which she was combating the habits and weakness of the past, would not have been a trivial matter,--it never is when there is earnest endeavor,--but, in addition to this, her whole soul had been kindling in sympathy with the patriotic fire that was impelling her dearest friends towards danger and possible death. Lane's, Strahan's, and Blauvelt's departure, and her father's peril, had brought her to a point that almost touched the limit of endurance. Then had come the man whose attentions had been so humiliating to her personally, and who represented to her the genius of the Rebellion that was bringing her such cruel experience. She saw his spirit of condescension even in his offer of marriage; worse still, she saw that he belittled the conflict in which even her father was risking his life; and her indignation and resentment had burst forth upon him with a power that she could not restrain.

The result had been most unexpected. Instead of slinking away overwhelmed with shame and confusion, or departing in haughty anger, Merwyn had revealed to her that which is rarely witnessed by any one,--the awakening of a strong, pa.s.sionate nature. In the cynical, polished, self-pleasing youth was something of which she had not dreamed,--of which he was equally unaware. Her bitter words pierced through the strata of self-sufficiency and pride that had been acc.u.mulating for years. She stabbed with truth the outer man and slew it, but the inner and possible manhood felt the sharp thrust and sprung up wounded, bleeding, and half desperate with pain. That which wise and kindly education might have developed was evoked in sudden agony, strong yet helpless, overwhelmed with the humiliating consciousness of what had been, and seeing not the way to what she would honor. Yet in that supreme moment the instinct a.s.serted itself that she, who had slain his meaner self, had alone the power to impart the impulse toward true manhood and to give the true measure of it. Hence a declaration so pa.s.sionate, and an appeal so full of his immense desire and need, that she was frightened, and faltered helplessly.

In the following weary days of suffering and weakness, she realized that she was very human, and not at all the exalted heroine that she had unconsciously come to regard herself. The suitor whom she had thought to dismiss in contempt and anger, and to have done with, could not be banished from her mind. The fact that he had proved himself to be all that she had thought him did not satisfy her, for the reason that he had apparently shown himself to be so much more. She had judged him superficially, and punished him accordingly.

She had condemned him unsparingly for traits which, except for a few short months, had been her own characteristics. While it was true that they seemed more unworthy in a man, still they were essentially the same.

”But he was not a man,” she sighed. ”He was scarcely more than the selfish boy that wealth, indulgence, and fas.h.i.+onable life had made him. Why was I so blind to this? Why could I not have seen that nothing had ever touched him deeply enough to show what he was, or, at least, of what he was capable? What was Strahan before his manhood was awakened? A little gossiping exquisite. Even Mr. Lane, who was always better than any of us, has changed wonderfully since he has had exceptional motives for n.o.ble action. What was I, myself, last June, when I was amusing myself at the expense of a man whom I knew to be so good and true? In view of all this, instead of having a little charity for Mr. Merwyn, who, no doubt, is only the natural product of the influences of his life, I only tolerated him in the vindictive hope of giving the worst blow that a woman can inflict. I might have seen that he had a deeper nature; at least, I might have hoped that he had, and given him a chance to reveal it. Perhaps there has never been one who tried to help him toward true manhood. He virtually said that his mother was a Southern fanatic, and his a.s.sociations have been with those abroad who sympathized with her. Is it strange that a mere boy of twenty-one should be greatly influenced by his mother and her aristocratic friends? He said his father was a Northern man, and he may have imbibed the notion that he could not fight on either side. Well, if he will give up such a false idea, if he will show that he is not cold-blooded and calculating, as his last outbreak seemed to prove, and can become as brave and true a soldier as Strahan, I will make amends by treating him as I do Strahan, and will try to feel as friendly towards him. He shall not have the right to say I'm 'not a woman but a fanatic.'”

She proved herself a woman by the effort to make excuses for one towards whom she had been severe, by her tendency to relent after she had punished to her heart's content.

”But,” added the girl aloud, in the solitude of her room, ”while I may give him my hand in some degree of kindliness and friends.h.i.+p, if he shows a different spirit, he shall never have my colors, never my loyal and almost sisterly love, until he has shown the courage and manhood of Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan. They shall have the first place until a better knight appears.”

When, one September evening, her father quietly entered his home he gave her an impulse towards convalescence beyond the power of all remedies. There were in time mutual confidences, though his were but partial, because relating to affairs foreign to her life, and tending to create useless anxieties in respect to the future.

He was one of those sagacious, fearless agents whom the government, at that period, employed in many and secret ways. For obvious reasons the nature and value of their services will never be fully known.

Marian was unreserved in her relation of what had occurred, and her father smiled and rea.s.sured her.

”In one sense you are right,” he said. ”We should have a broader, kindlier charity for all sorts of people, and remember that, since we do not know their antecedents and the influences leading to their actions, we should not be hasty to judge. Your course might have been more Christian-like towards young Merwyn, it is true.

Coming from you, however, in your present state of development, it was very natural, and I'm not sure but he richly deserved your words. If he has good mettle he will be all the better for them.

If he spoke from mere impulse and goes back to his old life and a.s.sociations, I'm glad my little girl was loyal and brave enough to lodge in his memory truths that he won't forget. Take the good old doctrine to your relenting heart and don't forgive him until he 'brings forth fruits meet for repentance.' I'm proud of you that you gave the young aristocrat such a wholesome lesson in regard to genuine American manhood and womanhood.”

Mrs. Vosburgh's reception of her husband was a blending of welcome and reproaches. What right had he to overwhelm them with anxiety, etc., etc.?

”The right of about a million men who are taking part in the struggle,” he replied, laughing at her good-naturedly.

”But I can't permit or endure it any longer,” said his wife, and there was irritation in her protest.

”Well, my dear,” he replied, with a shrug, ”I must remain among the eccentric millions who continue to act according to their own judgment.”