Part 32 (1/2)
Whatever his plans or purposes were, the impression grew stronger in her mind that he would not change them.
”But I have a pride and a will equal to his,” she a.s.sured herself.
”He can come thus far and no farther. Papa thinks I will yield eventually to his persistence and many fascinations. Were this possible, no one should know it until he had proved himself the peer of the bravest and best of my time.”
Winter had pa.s.sed, and spring brought not hope and gladness, but deepening dread as the hour approached when the b.l.o.o.d.y struggle would be renewed. Mr. Lane had partic.i.p.ated in more than one cavalry expedition, but had received no wounds. Strahan was almost ready to return, and had sent much good material to the thinned ranks of his regiment. His reward came promptly, for at that late day men were most needed, and he who furnished them secured a leverage beyond all political influence. The major in his regiment resigned from ill-health, and Strahan was promoted to the vacancy at once.
He received his commission before he started for the front, and he brought it to Marian with almost boyish pride and exultation.
He had called for Merwyn on his way, and insisted on having his company. He found the young fellow nothing loath.
Merwyn scarcely entertained the shadow of a hope of anything more than that time would soften Marian's feelings toward him. The war could not last forever. Unexpected circ.u.mstances might arise, and a steadfast course must win a certain kind of respect. At any rate it was not in his nature to falter, especially when her tolerance was parting with much of its old positiveness. His presence undoubtedly had the sanction of her father and mother, and for the former he was gaining an esteem and liking independent of his fortunes with the daughter. Love is a hardy plant, and thrives on meagre sustenance.
It was evident that the relations between Marian and Strahan were not such as he had supposed during the latter's illness. Her respect and friends.h.i.+p he would have, if it took a lifetime to acquire them. He would not be balked in the chief purpose of his life, or retreat from the pledge, although it was given in the agony of humiliation and defeat. As long as he had reason to believe that her hand and heart were free, it was not in human nature to abandon all hope.
On this particular evening Mr. Vosburgh admitted the young men, and Marian, hearing Strahan's voice, called laughingly from the parlor: ”You are just in time for the wedding. I should have been engaged to any one except you.”
”Engaged to any one except me? How cruel is my fate!”
”Pardon me,” began Merwyn quickly, and taking his hat again; ”I shall repeat my call at a time more opportune.”
Marian, who had now appeared, said, in polite tones: ”Mr. Merwyn, stay by all means. I could not think of separating two such friends.
Our waitress has no relatives to whom she can go, therefore we are giving her a wedding from our house.”
”Then I am sure there is greater reason for my leave-taking at present. I am an utter stranger to the bride, and feel that my presence would seem an intrusion to her, at least. Nothing at this time should detract from her happiness. Good-evening.”
Marian felt the force of his words, and was also compelled to recognize his delicate regard for the feelings of one in humble station. She would have permitted him to depart, but Mr. Vosburgh interposed quickly: ”Wait a moment, Mr. Merwyn; I picked up a rare book, down town, relating to the topic we were discussing the other evening. Suppose you go up to my library. I'll join you there, for the ceremony will soon be over. Indeed, we are now expecting the groom, his best man, and the minister. It so happens that the happy pair are Protestants, and so we can have an informal wedding.”
”Oh, stay, Merwyn,” said Strahan. ”It was I who brought you here, and I shouldn't feel that the evening was complete without you.”
The former looked doubtfully at Marian, who added, quickly: ”You cannot refuse papa's invitation, Mr. Merwyn, since it removes the only scruple you can have. It is, perhaps, natural that the bride should wish to see only familiar faces at this time, and it was thoughtful of you to remember this, but, as papa says, the affair will soon be over.”
”And then,” resumed Strahan, ”I have a little pie to show you, Miss Marian, in which Merwyn had a big finger.”
”I thought that was an affair between ourselves,” said Merwyn, throwing off his overcoat.
”Oh, do not for the world reveal any of Mr. Merwyn's secrets!”
cried the girl.
”It is no secret at all to you, Miss Marian, nor did I ever intend that it should be one,” Strahan explained.
”Mr. Merwyn, you labor under a disadvantage in your relations with Mr. Strahan. He has friends, and friends.h.i.+p is not based on reticence.”
”Therefore I can have no friends, is the inference, I suppose.”
”That cannot be said while I live,” began the young officer, warmly; but here a ring at the door produced instant dispersion. ”I suppose I can be present,” Strahan whispered to Marian. ”Barney Ghegan is an older acquaintance of mine than of yours, and your pretty waitress has condescended to smile graciously on me more than once, although my frequent presence at your door must have taxed her patience.”
”You have crossed her palm with too much silver, I fear, to make frowns possible. Silver, indeed! when has any been seen? But money in any form is said to buy woman's smiles.”
”Thank Heaven it doesn't buy yours.”
”Hus.h.!.+ Your gravity must now be portentous.”