Volume Iii Part 15 (1/2)
”And you do not find it very painful?”
A wan smile was the answer.
”Dear Mary!” the brother exclaimed, turning away to hide a bright drop that started to his eye, ”how shall we ever be able to repay you for all you have suffered so long and patiently?”
A smile again played upon her lips, as she marked the _we_ for the first time used in a speech of this nature, and putting her hand in her brother's, she replied:
”By allowing me to witness your happiness, dear Arthur.”
Too much occupied with unselfish concern for his sister, the young man did not understand the speech as it was intended; but after a moment's anxious consideration, inquired:
”Mary, has anything occurred since our conversation the day before yesterday, to hasten this step? I know that Trevor went away early this morning, but had you any meeting with him yesterday?”
”I had,” she answered, colouring deeply; ”but, Arthur,” in a faltering voice, ”spare me any further questions; let what I have done suffice.”
”Selfish--heartless--double-hearted,” were the emphatic murmurings of the young man's lips, as he turned away with dark and moody brow, ”would that _I_ might ask a few questions of him.”
”Arthur!” Mary exclaimed, laying her hands reproachfully on his shoulder, ”you will make me believe that after all you are vexed and disturbed that our engagement is over.”
”No, Mary, Heaven knows that is not the case; but still, it makes my blood boil to think how you have waited so long and faithfully, and that after all your trust and patience will have been all in vain, that your precious affection should have been wasted.”
”Then, Arthur, console yourself with the a.s.surance that I grudge no measure of faith and patience I may have exerted. Faith and patience can never be in vain; would that was all I have now to mourn over. As for wasted affection--affection never can be wasted,” unconsciously quoting the words once sounded in her ear, in tones which ever since had lingered there. ”My affection, though blind, perhaps, and mistaken, was pure and innocent. G.o.d will not suffer it to return fruitless to my bosom.”
Arthur Seaham was obliged to go and prepare himself for the judge's dinner, and Mary to exert herself during her _tete-a-tete_ evening with Miss Elliott.
The next day she was too ill to rise. Her maid was sent for, and with her Mary a day or two after went to a pretty cottage not far distant, belonging to her brother, where he was soon to join her. The Morgans were not then in the country.
CHAPTER XV.
But now, alas! the place seems changed, Thou art no longer here: Part of the suns.h.i.+ne of the scene With thee did disappear.
LONGFELLOW.
Confess! Record myself A villain!
VENICE PRESERVED.
Mary Seaham's letter reached Montrevor the day after Mabel Marryott's funeral. Eugene Trevor tore it open eagerly, turned ashy pale as he perused it, then, thrusting it into his pocket, went about his business as before.
Day after day went by, and the letter remained unanswered--unacted upon.
With sullen defiance, or silent contempt, Eugene Trevor seemed to have determined upon treating the earnest appeal the important requisition it contained. The appeal he endeavoured to consider it of a weak, simple woman, who probably looked upon an affair of so serious--nay, he was forced to acknowledge, so fearful--a nature in no stronger light than that of some romantic fiction, only costing the actor engaged in it the struggle of some heroic and high-wrought feeling to bring the matter to a satisfactory issue; and who little knew that it would have been far easier to him to put a pistol to his head, than to draw down upon himself such ruin--in every sense of the word--as the sacrifice so calmly required of him by the fair and gentle Mary Seaham must entail.
”Senseless girl! what! recall my father's incensed heir to his admiring friends, now all up in arms at the treatment--the persecution, they would call it--that he had received at my hands! restore him in all the strength and brightness of his intellect, striking conviction to every mind as to the truth of the testimonies, which would not fail to start up on every side, to substantiate the false nature of the plea which had alienated him from his lawful rights. Then how would vague reports find confirmation! surmises, suspicions be brought to light! And what would become of _me_? what would become of my debts--my character--my honour--my covetousness?”
If these were in any sort the reflections which influenced Eugene Trevor for the next week or so after the receipt of Mary's letter, that letter seemed to have had at any rate the power of subduing for a time his energies and courage in the prosecution of former designs.