Part 18 (1/2)
She shook hands very quietly, but an expression of pleasure stole over her face. Her guardian observed it, and asked:
”Pray, Percy, what do you know of her?”
”That she sings very charmingly,” answered his friend, smiling at Beulah.
”He saw me once when I was at the asylum,” said she,
”And was singing part of the regime there?”
”No, Guy. She was wandering about the piney woods, near the asylum, with two beautiful elves, when I chanced to meet her. She was singing at the time. Beulah, I am glad to find you out again; and in future, when I pay the doctor long visits, I shall expect you to appear for my entertainment. Look to it, Guy, that she is present.
But I am fatigued with my unusual exercise, and must return home.
Good-by, Beulah; shake hands. I am going immediately to my room, Guy; so come as soon as you can.” He rode slowly on, while Dr.
Hartwell shook the reins, and Mazeppa sprang down the road again.
Beulah had remarked a great alteration in Mr. Lockhart's appearance; he was much paler, and bore traces of recent and severe illness. His genial manner and friendly words had interested her, and, looking up at her guardian, she said timidly:
”Is he ill, sir?”
”He has been, and is yet quite feeble. Do you like him?”
”I know nothing of him, except that he spoke to me one evening some months ago. Does he live here, sir?”
”No; he has a plantation on the river, but is here on a visit occasionally. Much of his life has been spent in Europe, and thither he goes again very soon.”
The sun had set. The bay seemed a vast sheet of fire, as the crimson clouds cast their s.h.i.+fting shadows on its bosom; and, forgetting everything else, Beulah leaned out of the buggy, and said almost unconsciously:
”How beautiful! how very beautiful!” Her lips were parted; her eyes clear and sparkling with delight. Dr. Hartwell sighed, and, turning from the bay road, approached his home. Beulah longed to speak to him of what was pressing on her heart; but, glancing at his countenance to see whether it was an auspicious time, she was deterred by the somber sternness which overshadowed it, and before she could summon courage to speak, they stopped at the front gate.
”Jump out, and go home; I have not time to drive in.”
She got out of the buggy, and, looking up at him as he rose to adjust some part of the harness, said bravely:
”I am very much obliged to you for my ride. I have not had such a pleasure for years. I thank you very much.”
”All very unnecessary, child. I am glad you enjoyed it.”
He seated himself, and gathered up the reins, without looking at her. But she put her hand on the top of the wheel, and said in an apologetic tone:
”Excuse me, sir; but may I wait in your study till you come home? I want to ask you something.” Her face flushed, and her voice trembled with embarra.s.sment.
”It may be late before I come home to-night. Can't you tell me now what you want? I can wait.”
”Thank you, sir; to-morrow will do as well, I suppose. I will not detain you.” She opened the gate and entered the yard. Dr. Hartwell looked after her an instant, and called out, as he drove on:
”Do as you like, Beulah, about waiting for me. Of course the study is free to you at all times.”
The walk, or rather carriage road, leading up to the house was bordered by stately poplars and cedars, whose branches interlaced overhead, and formed a perfect arch. Beulah looked up at the dark- green depths among the cedars, and walked on with a feeling of contentment, nay, almost of happiness, which was a stranger to her heart. In front of the house, and in the center of a gra.s.sy circle, was a marble basin, from which a fountain ascended. She sat down on the edge of the reservoir, and, taking off her bonnet, gave unrestrained license to her wandering thoughts. Wherever her eyes turned, verdure, flowers, statuary met her gaze; the air was laden with the spicy fragrance of jasmines, and the low, musical babble of the fountain had something very soothing in its sound. With her keen appreciation of beauty, there was nothing needed to enhance her enjoyment; and she ceased to remember her sorrows. Before long, however, she was startled by the sight of several elegantly dressed ladies emerging from the house; at the same instant a handsome carriage, which she had not previously observed, drove from a turn in the walk and drew up to the door to receive them. Mrs. Chilton stood on the steps, exchanging smiles and polite nothings, and, as one of the party requested permission to break a sprig of geranium growing near, she gracefully offered to collect a bouquet, adding, as she severed some elegant cl.u.s.ters of heliotrope and jasmine:
”Guy takes inordinate pride in his parterre, arranges and overlooks all the flowers himself. I often tell him I am jealous of my beautiful rivals; they monopolize his leisure so completely.”
”Nonsense! we know to our cost that you of all others need fear rivalry from no quarter. There; don't break any more. What superb taste the doctor has! This lovely spot comes nearer my ideal of European elegance than any place I know at the South. I suppose the fascination of his home makes him such a recluse! Why doesn't he visit more? He neglects us shamefully! He is such a favorite in society too; only I believe everybody is rather afraid of him. I shall make a most desperate effort to charm him so soon as an opportunity offers. Don't tell him I said so though--'forewarned, forearmed.'” All this was very volubly uttered by a das.h.i.+ng, showy young lady, dressed in the extreme of fas.h.i.+on, and bearing unmistakable marks of belonging to beau monde. She extended a hand eased in white kid, for the flowers, and looked steadily at the lady of the house as she spoke.
”I shall not betray your designs, Miss Julia. Guy is a great lover of the beautiful, and I am not aware that anywhere in the book of fate is written the decree that he shall not marry again. Take care, you are tearing your lace point on that rose bush; let me disengage it.” She stooped to rescue the cobweb wrapping, and, looking about her, Miss Julia exclaimed: