Part 17 (2/2)
”No, my dear Akos.h.!.+ not by any means!” said Mrs. Ershebet, with great composure. ”If I did not respect you so much, surely there would be no need of this conversation; nor would I, for the first time in my life, disobey my husband's commands. I would not receive you in my house if I were not convinced of your n.o.ble and generous nature. But, Akosh, you are rich--you have a grand future before you; and it is this which makes me anxious. Look at all the great families whom you know, and tell me how many there are with whom real love and real happiness dwell? Your life offers a thousand enjoyments--a thousand temptations: it is full of purpose and splendour; glory and popularity surround you. Have you the strength to keep your heart undivided amidst so many objects? For to be happy, Vilma wants your whole heart. The fragments of a husband's love cannot satisfy her. And besides,” continued Mrs. Ershebet, when Akosh had done his best to convince her of the immutability of his love, ”have you thought of all the objections which others may raise?”
”I shall be twenty-four in a few weeks, and consequently independent. My mother's property, of which I am already possessed, is enough to keep my wife and me; and if my father _were_ to quarrel with me, I do not care.
I prefer Vilma's love to all!”
”I believe you, dear Akosh,” said Mrs. Ershebet; ”but what will Tengelyi say? He is good and loving; but when he takes it into his head that something is opposed to his principles, no power on earth can make him yield.”
”Except the power of love,” said Akosh.
”No, not even that: Jonas never loved any thing or anybody as he does me; may G.o.d bless him for it! and still I cannot obtain any thing from him that is opposed to his convictions.”
”Yes; but can it be against his principles to see his daughter happy?
may we not hope for his blessing? As for _my_ father, why should we despair of _his_ consent? n.o.body knows him better than Vandory does, and he told me over and over again that my father is sure to yield.”
Mrs. Ershebet's fears were dispelled. Akosh told her that he intended to take Vilma to his new residence, in a neighbouring county, where she need not come into contact with his mother-in-law. Mrs. Ershebet, to whom he explained the whole arrangement of the house, rose up as her daughter entered, and pressed her to her heart.
”So, my children,” said Mrs. Ershebet, taking Akosh and Vilma by the hand, ”be true and constant in your love, and G.o.d will not allow you to be separated. You see Jonas and me; we had many difficulties to contend with; but we overcame them. Come, my dears,” continued the good woman, kissing Vilma's forehead, ”speak to each other now, and say all you have to say, for G.o.d knows when you will meet again.”
”Vilma,” said Akosh, taking the blus.h.i.+ng girl by the hand, ”your eyes were filled with tears when I came. Why did you weep?”
”Oh! you will laugh at me! I am a weak, frightened girl; we were all anxious about you; and when I saw you safe----”
”My angel, how happy you make me with your love! When I look into your eyes, and see their loving gaze fixed upon me; and when I hear your sweet voice; when I press your hand to my lips, and think that this hand is to be mine--that within a short time perhaps you are to be truly, wholly mine, I feel as in a dream, or as if some misfortune _must_ happen to us, for I cannot conceive it possible for human beings to be so thoroughly happy!”
”For G.o.d's sake take care!” cried Vilma. ”You are bold and careless of danger. You shun n.o.body; but you ought to think of _us_. My mother, too, was greatly frightened to-night.”
”On account of my staying away?”
”Certainly! and on account of the fog. We thought you had met with some accident in the swamps of St. Vilmosh.”
”If there are no greater dangers than those of the Dustbury road, you may be easy,” replied Akosh, smiling. ”There is not at present water enough in the swamps of St. Vilmosh to drown a child; and my only danger to-night was one which certainly does no credit to me--I lost my way.
The fog was so dense that I was hopelessly lost; and perhaps I should still be erring in the wilderness but for the sound of hoofs, which I heard at a distance. I turned my horse in the direction of the sound; but when I approached the horseman, he went off in a gallop. I followed, and we made a race of it, in which he beat me. At last I saw a light, and found myself at the entrance of the village. I presume the man, who belonged to the village, mistook me for a robber. Thank goodness I met him, for without him I had no chance of finding my way.”
”But how will you return?” said Vilma, anxiously. ”My mother tells me that you intend going back this very night.”
”Of course I must, unless I wish my expedition to be known at Dustbury.
I have tied my horse to the garden gate. At midnight I must take to the saddle, and the dawn of morning finds me in the council-house. But I promise you I will not lose my way this time; and----but really things cannot remain as they are! This state of uncertainty is unbearable. I will speak to your father.”
”Beware!” cried Vilma. ”We cannot hope for my father's consent until your father gives his.”
”But I know my father will approve of my choice. I will open my heart to him. I will tell him how dearly I love you, and that I cannot be happy without you. I will tell him that to live with you is bliss; but that to live away from you is worse than h.e.l.l. And if I tell him all this, asking for his blessing and nothing else, trust me he will not refuse it. Oh, Vilma! we are sure to be happy!”
Vilma did not withdraw her hand, which Akosh seized; nor did she speak to confirm her lover in his hopes; but there was a heaven of joy in the look which she cast upon him.
”Yes, Vilma, we are sure to be happy. I have spoken to your mother, and explained everything. I have a home not far from here--it was my mother's property; and my father gave it into my hands. I have had the garden put to rights. The rooms of the little house are comfortably furnished--it is there we will live. Of course your father and mother go with us.”
”And Mother Liptaka,” said the girl, smiling with gladness, ”she is so fond of us.”
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