Part 2 (1/2)
”Yes, and so will Fred,” added Amelia with a sly wink.
It was, therefore, agreed upon that little Richard, for so he was named, should go to his new home that very evening. Tea being over, he was dressed in his best clothes. A couple of carpet bags were filled with other necessary articles. All things being in readiness Mrs. Charlston and her daughters took their departure, accompanied with Clara and the child.
When they arrived home Mr. Charlston and the others of his family were at tea, Mrs. C. entered carrying Richard in her arms, followed by the others.
”Look here, old lad, and guess what I have got, as a present for my good behavior this afternoon,” exclaimed Mrs. Charlston.
”Only a baby,” said Mr. C. ”You seem as much excited as if you had found a purse of gold.”
”Just look at the sweet, little, silvery-mouthed hazle-eyed, rosy-cheeked cherub,” said Mrs. C.
”'Tis little Richard, I declare,” shouted Charlotte, springing forth to see him. ”What a sweet little fellow he is. Just come, pa, and see the little darling.” ”O, Fred come and see him, he is your very picture, what a dear lovely angel he is,” &c.
After the excitement had abated, they all removed to the sitting-room.
Every one had to kiss and fondle little Richard; and even Frederick, whose heart had become softened by the touch of tender humanity, took the child into his arms, and with a parent's affection bestowed a dozen of fond kisses upon its ruby lips, feeling at the same time as if he could have similarly complimented Clara, as an expression of his affection, and a recompense for the abrupt manner in which he had treated her at their previous interview. Mrs. Charlston then told them that Richard had come to stay with them until he was weaned. Mr.
Charlston felt apparently well pleased with the idea; it seemed to him as a happy acquisition to his household.
Clara at length prepared herself to depart, and before leaving bestowed a dozen of fond kisses on the dear little fellow, and with a lingering look bade them all good night, promising to return on the following evening.
Frederick put on his hat and quietly followed her to the door, and in a sort of undertone interrogated, ”May I have the pleasure of seeing you home to-night, Clara?”
”If you please,” she replied. Fred very courteously complied therewith.
The character of their conversation on the way that night may be guessed from the fact, that Fred and Clara became more lovingly attached to each other than ever they had been.
Next day Fred hurried away to the house of his old master; and on the following morning was at his former place as a journeyman and an a.s.sociate of his old companion and fellow-workman, Charles Holstrom.
Clara also found immediate employment. The Charlstons were once more rendered happy at seeing Fred so spirited and reconciled; and also the presence of little Richard gave a relish to their happiness.
Even old Collins was so well pleased with the change of affairs in his own household that he gave expression to his joyous feelings by getting pleasantly drunk every day for a whole week.
The beautiful days of summer glided smoothly along. The nights were calm and refres.h.i.+ng. Under the exhilarating rays of the evening moonlight, Fred and Clara frequently strolled out pleasantly together. Feelings were reciprocated. Ideas of future prospects towered higher than the moon. A happy home, brightened by the golden beams of the honeymoon was seen peeping through the sylvan avenues of imagination. A few months, perchance only a few weeks had only to pa.s.s by, and their souls were to be pressed so closely together by the legal stamp of matrimony that nothing but the chisel of death could be able to separate them.
What a delightful picture of future life is often sketched by the artistic fancy of the soul. What beautiful delineations of all that is exquisitely pleasing and profitable! The scenes are of the grandest descriptions: the coloring, of the richest hues, admirably shaded and intermingled. Even the darkest spots are glistening by the surrounding beauty. All appears as an enchanted dream; a glimpse of fairyland, or as a primeval paradise modernized, and rendered suitable in every part to gratify the desires of the mind.
But, alas! too frequently these prospects of ideality are built only upon corner pillars, and tower to so great an alt.i.tude above their slender bases, that their summits, like the top of Babel become mystified by the clouds; and when the first storm of adversity, or the breath of insidious circ.u.mstances are blown against them, they totter, and eventually fall cras.h.i.+ng to the earth, and lie scattered in shapeless ruins around their basis.
But, perhaps, it is cruel to predict, or even to suggest, such ruinous consequences to the moonlit dreams of that happy pair. Time alone can unfold the mysterious realities of life. I will, therefore, pursue the windings of their course, and note down the various incidents and events as they are struck out, like the sparks from the heated iron under the blacksmith's hammer.
CHAPTER IV.
We now come to that eventful evening referred to in chapter first, of which a part of the proceedings is described. We shall now continue our narration, and make known the consequences of that unfortunate meeting.
No sooner had Clara departed from the house of Mr. Charlston than Frederick, from some impulsive motive, glided out of the room; and having hastily disguised himself in his father's great coat, hat and m.u.f.fler, hurried out, and followed in pursuit of Clara. In the vicinity of the house at which she had left her acquaintance, he observed a young man sauntering around. This person Fred discovered to be none other than Charles Holstrom. So pa.s.sing hurriedly onward without being recognized he crossed over at the first corner to the other side of the street and walked back. When nearly opposite the house referred to the door opened and a young woman, alone, whom he knew to be Clara, came out. She hurried forward only a few steps when Holstrom wheeled around and addressed her; and having received her hand on his arm they glided hastily along the street. Frederick was startled at the reality. His blood flooded in tidal waves to his heart. His nerves quivered. His soul became exasperated. He inwardly threatened immediate violence to both parties. But having hastily checked the outpourings of his resentment he secretly followed them, yet still breathing volumes of deprecations which rose in steaming vapor from his phrenzied brain.
”Can it be possible?” he soliloquised, ”that Clara has been practising deception upon my faithful affection? I have discovered when too late that she has flattered my fond heart with her insidious wiles. I loved her once, I despise her now. She has got rid of her child, and she is now trying to dispose of me also. Ah! the syren that she is! No longer shall I breathe her name but with feelings of hatred and disgust. Ah!
that villain too, who is leading her headlong to her own ruin! I hate him also. His affection towards me as a friend and companion has only served as a mantle to cover his deceitful heart. He is a serpent more subtle and venomous than that which entered the Garden of Eden. Ah! the vile wretch that he is! The deed is too base to forgive. I spurn the debased villain. I shall humble his proud heart. I shall crush him to the earth. I shall have revenge upon his guilty head. Revenge, revenge I must have!”
In this excited state of feelings poor Frederick followed them unperceived to the very doorsteps of her home. His impulses had made him recklessly desperate. His savage nature was aroused. He was, indeed, no longer himself. Like a wild beast he was ready to spring upon them, and would have done so had not the uprisings of his moral nature suggested to him not to do so.