Part 9 (1/2)
Nevertheless, Mr. Gorton did think it strange. He had no idea of the tender a.s.sociations cl.u.s.tering around one's home. He had no idea of the depth and richness and sweetness of a mother's love, of a sister's yearning fondness, for they ever had been denied him; consequently the emotions that thrilled the heart of his bride could find no response and met with no sympathy in his own. It was rather with wonder, than with any other sensation, that he regarded her sorrow. Was she not entering upon a newer and higher sphere of life?
Was she not to be the mistress of a splendid mansion? Was she not to be the envied of many and many a one who had feigned every attraction and exerted every effort for the station, she was to a.s.sume; and should she weep with this in view?
Thus Mr. Gorton thought--as man often reasons.
After having proceeded a little distance, they came within view of an humble cottage, when Ellen said,
”I must stop here, Mr. Gorton, and see Grandma Nichols (she was an elderly member of the church of which Ellen was a member), and when I was last to see her, she said, as she should not be able to walk to to see me married, I must call on her, or she should think me proud. I will stop for a moment--just a moment,” she added, after a pause, observing he did not answer.
They were just opposite the cottage at that moment, yet he gave no orders to stop. With a fresh burst of tears, Ellen exclaimed,
”Please, Mr. Gorton, let me see her. I may never see her again, and she will think I did not care to bid her a last farewell.”
But Mr. Gorton said,
”Really, Ellen, I am very much surprised at the apparent necessity of trifles to make your happiness. You went to see your aunt after I had a.s.sured you there was not time. I wish you to remember that your little wishes and whims, however important they may scene to you, cannot seem of such importance to me as to interfere with my arrangements. What matters it if my bride do not say farewell to an old woman whom I never heard of, and shall never think of again, and who will soon probably die and cease to remember that you slighted her?”
And he laid Ellen's head upon his shoulder, and wiping the tears from her face, wondered of what nature incomprehensible she was.
But, it _did_ matter to her in more respects than one, that she was not permitted to call at the cottage. A mind so sensitive as Ellen's feels the least neglect and the slightest reproof, and is equally pained by giving cause for pain, as receiving. Besides, how much was expressed in that last sentence of Mr. Gorton's, accompanying the denial of her simple request! How much contained in that denial, too! How plainly she read in it the future--how fully did it reveal the disposition of him by whose will she saw she was herself to be hereafter governed! Though her mind was full of these thoughts, there was no less of love for him--love in Ellen Lawton could never change, though she wondered, too, how he could refuse what seemed to her so easy to grant. And so they both silently pursued their way, wondering in their hearts as to the nature of each other. This, however, did not continue long; and soon Ellen's tears ceased to flow, and she listened, delighted, to the eloquent words of her gifted husband, spoken in the most musical and rich of all voices.
Woman will have love for her husband so long as she has admiration, and Ellen knew she would never cease to admire the talents and brilliant acquirements of Frederic Gorton.
After several days travel through a delightfully romantic country, they reached the town of M--, where was the residence of Mr.
Gorton. It was an elegant mansion, the exterior planned and finished in the most tasteful and handsome style--the interior equally so--and furnished with all that a young bride of most cultivated taste could desire. The eye of Ellen was delighted and surprised, even to tears, and inaudibly, but fervently in her heart she murmured, ”how devotedly will I love him who has provided for me so much comfort and splendour, and how cheerfully will I make sacrifices of my feelings, 'my wishes and my whims,' for him who has loved me so much as to make me his wife!” and she gazed into her husband's face through her tears, and kissed reverently his hand.
”Why weep you, my Ellen? Are you not pleased?”
”O, yes; but you have done too much for me. I can never repay you, only in my love, which is so boundless I have not dared to breathe it all to you, nor could I.”
Gorton looked upon her in greater astonishment than before. Tears he had ever a.s.sociated with sorrow; and surely, thought he, here is no occasion for tears, and he said,
”Well, if you love me, you will hasten to wipe away those tears, and let me see you in smiles. I do not often smile myself, therefore the more need for my lady to do so. Moreover, we may expect a mult.i.tude of callers; and think, Ellen, of the effect of any one's seeing the bride in tears.”
Calling a servant to conduct her to her dressing-room, and expressing his wish for her to dress in her most becoming manner, he left her.
It is unnecessary to say that Ellen was admired and loved by all the friends of her husband, even by his brother judges and politicians.
Herbert Lester, the particular friend of Mr. Gorton, whose prophecy had thus soon been verified, came many miles to express personally his sympathy and condolence. These he changed to congratulations, when he felt the influence of the grace and beauty of the wife of his friend--and he declared that he would make an offer of his hand and heart, could he find another Ellen.
Meanwhile time pa.s.sed, and though Ellen was daily called upon to yield her own particular preferences to Mr. Gorton's, as she had done even on her bridal day, she was comparatively happy. Had she possessed less keenness of sensibility, she might have been happier; or had Mr. Gorton possessed more, that he could have understood her, many tears would have been spared her. Oftentimes, things comparatively trifling to him would wound the sensitive nature of Ellen most painfully, and he of course would have no conception _why_ they should thus affect her.
Occupied as he was mostly with worldly transactions and political affairs, Ellen's mind often, in his absence, reverted to the scenes of her youth, and her childhood home, her mother, and the bright band of her young sisters; and longings would come up in her heart to behold them once more.
Two years having pa.s.sed without her having seen one member of her family, she one day asked Mr. Gorton if it would not be convenient soon to make a visit to Chester. He answered that his arrangements would not admit of it at present--and coldly and cruelly asked her if she had yet heard of Grandma Nichols' decease. Ellen answered not, and bent her head over the face of her little Frederic, who was sleeping, to hide her tears. Perceiving her emotion, however, he added,
”Ellen, I a.s.sure you it is impossible for me to comply with your wish, but I will write to your mother, and urge her to visit us--will not that do?”
Ellen's face brightened, as with a beam of suns.h.i.+ne, and springing to her husband's side, she laid her glowing cheek upon his, and then smiled upon him so sweetly that even the cold heart of Frederic Gorton glowed with a warmth unusual.
Seven years pa.s.sed away, leaving their shadows as the sun does. And Ellen--