Part 22 (2/2)
”Yes, sir.”
”Can you say 'No' when he asks you to say 'Yes,' and wait a little for your happiness?”
”I can.”
”And will you?”
”I will.”
”Then I'm satisfied, and a great weight taken off my heart. I can't help seeing what goes on, or trembling when I think of you setting sail with no better pilot than poor Charlie. Now you answer as I hoped you would, and I am proud of my girl!”
They had been standing with the width of the room between them, Dr.
Alec looking very much like a commander issuing orders, Rose like a well-drilled private obediently receiving them; and both wore the air of soldiers getting ready for a battle, with the bracing of nerves and quickening of the blood brave souls feel as they put on their armor.
At the last words he went to her, brushed back the hair, and kissed her on the forehead with a tender sort of gravity, and a look that made her feel as if he had endowed her with the Victoria cross for courage on the field.
No more was said then; for Aunt Plenty called them down, and the day's duties began. But that brief talk showed Rose what to do, and fitted her to do it; for it set her to thinking of the duty one owes one's self in loving as in all the other great pa.s.sions or experiences which make or mar a life.
She had plenty of time for quiet meditation that day, because every one was resting after yesterday's festivity; and she sat in her little room planning out a new year, so full of good works, grand successes, and beautiful romances, that if it could have been realized the Millennium would have begun. It was a great comfort to her, however, and lightened the long hours haunted by a secret desire to know when Charlie would come, and a secret fear of the first meeting.
She was sure he would be bowed down with humiliation and repentance, and a struggle took place in her mind between the pity she could not help feeling, and the disapprobation she ought to show. She decided to be gentle, but very frank; to reprove, but also to console, and try to improve the softened moment by inspiring the culprit with a wish for all the virtues which make a perfect man.
This fond delusion grew quite absorbing, and her mind was full of it as she sat watching the sun set from her western window, and admiring with dreamy eyes the fine effect of the distant hills clear and dark against a daffodil sky, when the bang of a door made her sit suddenly erect in her low chair, and say with a catch in her breath,--
”He is coming! I must remember what I promised uncle, and be very firm.”
Usually Charlie announced his approach with music of some sort: now he neither whistled, hummed, nor sung, but came so quietly Rose was sure that he dreaded the meeting as much as she did, and, compa.s.sionating his natural confusion, did not look round as the steps drew near. She thought perhaps he would go down upon his knees, as he used to after a boyish offence, but hoped not; for too much humility distressed her: so she waited for the first demonstration anxiously.
It was rather a shock when it came, however; for a great nosegay dropped into her lap, and a voice, bold and gay as usual, said lightly,--
”Here she is, as pretty and pensive as you please. Is the world hollow, our doll stuffed with sawdust, and do we want to go into a nunnery to-day, cousin?”
Rose was so taken aback by this unexpected coolness that the flowers lay unnoticed, as she looked up with a face so full of surprise, reproach, and something like shame, that it was impossible to mistake its meaning. Charlie did not; and had the grace to redden deeply, and his eyes fell, as he said quickly, though in the same light tone,--
”I humbly apologize for--coming so late last night. Don't be hard upon me, cousin: you know America expects every man to do his duty on New-Year's day.”
”I am tired of forgiving! You make and break promises as easily as you did years ago, and I shall never ask you for another,” answered Rose, putting the bouquet away; for the apology did not satisfy her, and she would not be bribed to silence.
”But, my dear girl, you are so very exacting, so peculiar in your notions, and so angry about trifles, that a poor fellow can't please you, try as he will,” began Charlie, ill at ease, but too proud to show half the penitence he felt, not so much for the fault as for her discovery of it.
”I am not angry: I am grieved and disappointed; for _I_ expect every man to do his duty in another way, and keep his word to the uttermost, as I try to do. If that is exacting, I'm sorry, and won't trouble you with my old-fas.h.i.+oned notions any more.”
”Bless my soul! what a rout about nothing! I own that I forgot: I know I acted like a fool, and I beg pardon; what more _can_ I do?”
”Act like a man, and never let me be so terribly ashamed of you again as I was last night,” and Rose gave a little s.h.i.+ver as she thought of it.
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