Part 12 (1/2)
”I am going to California!” he said, almost sternly, for he feared Elma's tenderness might unman him.
”Not without me?” she asked, with pleading eyes.
”Yes! Elma, I cannot take you, for I shall be constantly travelling, and subject to the greatest hards.h.i.+ps,--you could not bear it! I shall be back in a year and a half.”
”I could bear anything better than to be left behind--you do not know as well as I what would be the greatest hards.h.i.+p for me. Ah!
Horace, do not put me to this dreadful trial. Let me go with you, and you will find that I will not utter a complaint. You can leave me at some place, while you travel over the roughest country--you may be sick, and need me. I fear men grow hard and selfish there, and what you gain in purse, you may lose in what is dearest to me.
'It is not good for man to be alone.'”
”Hush, darling; every word is vain!” answered Horace, clasping her to his breast, and kissing her with pa.s.sionate vehemence. For the first time in his life he wept without any restraint over her. ”Do you think anything but duty would tear me from you? It is my duty to be just to all men, and to pay what I owe as soon as I can.”
”But take me!” sobbed Elma.
”Dear child! you must be reasonable. I know that you fear the influence about me will not be as angelically pure as your own, and I love you for that fear. I shall go where no man will care for my soul as you do; but I shall not forget you, Elma. Now, cheer up, and show me the ready resolution you have always had at hand.”
”I never had such a cruel blow as this before!” returned Elma, in an entire abandonment of grief. ”Oh! take me with you, Horace, and nothing in the world will be hard for me.”
The wife's pleadings were vain, and in a week she parted from her husband. After he had gone, she won back a spirit of resignation; indeed, as soon as she found her doom was sealed, she gathered up her strength, and strove to cheer Horace, whose spirits sunk miserably when he had no longer to support Elma. She laid out a plan for her life during her widowhood, as she called it, and this plan was after the example of One who went about doing good. The weary time pa.s.sed slowly, but each day added a little gem to Elma's heavenly life, and when, at length, she received her husband's last letter before his return, her thanks gushed forth in gladness, as they had so often before done, in holy confidence. Part of his letter ran thus:--
And now, dear love, having told you of the outward success which has met my efforts, let me tell you a little of the heart that belongs to you--which you have won from darkness to light. It is filled with images of hope and love, and a light from your spirit s.h.i.+nes through all--have been ever with me, ever leading me to that 'true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.' I often gave you pain, my darling, when we were together; it was unintentional, and sprang from the evil of my nature; and a thousand times, when you did not suspect it, your gentle look and touch brought to my spirit better thoughts, and the thoughts brought better words and deeds. You have been the angel of my life still more during our separation; for my soul has yearned for your dear presence constantly, and every day I have said to myself, 'Would this please Elma?' and when I have been enabled to do a kindness, my heart glowed at the thought of Elma's approval. Your blessed spirit never seems so near to me as when I lift up my soul in prayer. I sometimes fancy your prayers, beloved, have unlocked the Kingdom of Heaven for me. Good bye, dearest life, we shall soon meet.
HORACE.”
And when they met, the joy of their first wedding days seemed doubled. Elma rejoiced at the discipline she had been through, for it had better fitted her for the joyful existence that was before her. It had now become more of a habit for her soul to dwell in a heavenly atmosphere--she had learned to rely steadfastly upon her G.o.d for the good gifts of her life, and they were showered upon her abundantly; doubly beautiful, they were shared by a heart in unison.
LIVING LIKE A LADY.
MR. HAMILTON BURGESS was a man of limited means, but having married a beautiful and amiable woman, he resolved to spare no expense in surrounding her with comforts, and in supporting her, as he said, ”like a lady.”
”My dear Ammy,” said Mrs. Burgess, to her indulgent husband, about a year after their marriage--”My dear Ammy”--this was the name she called him by _at home_--”you are too kind to me, altogether. You are unwilling that I should work, or do anything towards our support, when I actually think that a little exertion on my part would not only serve to lighten your expenses, but be quite as good for my health and spirits as the occupations to which my time is now devoted.”
”Oh, you industrious little bee!” exclaimed Mr. Burgess, ”you have great notions of making yourself useful, I declare! But, Lizzie, I shall never consent to your propositions. I did not marry you to make you my slave. When you gave me this dear hand, I resolved that it should never be soiled and made rough by labour--and it never shall, as long as I am able to attend to my business.”
Mrs. Burgess would not have done anything to displease her husband for the world, and she accordingly allowed him to have his way without offering farther remonstrance.
But Hamilton's business was dull, and it required the greatest exertion on his part, and the severest application, to raise sufficient money to meet the daily expenses of his family.
”My affairs will be in a better state next year,” he said to himself, ”and I must manage to struggle through this dull season some way or another. I will venture to run in debt a little, I think; for any way is preferable to reducing our household expenditures, which are by no means extravagant. At all events, Lizzie must not know what my circ.u.mstances are, for she would insist upon a change in our style of living, and revive the subject of doing something towards our support.”
Mr. Burgess then ventured to run in debt a little; he did not attempt to reduce the expenses of his housekeeping; he never gave his wife a hint respecting the true state of his business matters, but insisted upon her accepting, as usual, a liberal allowance of funds to meet her private expenses.
Lizzie seemed quite happy in her ignorance of her husband's circ.u.mstances, never spoke again of a.s.sisting to support the establishment, but seemed to devote herself to the pursuit of quiet pleasures, and to procuring Hamilton's happiness. But Mr. Burgess's circ.u.mstances, instead of improving, grew continually worse. His venture of ”running in debt a little,” resulted in running in debt a great deal. Thus the second year of his married life pa.s.sed, and the dark shadows of disappointed hope and the traces of corroding care began to change the aspect of his brow.
One day a friend said to Hamilton--
”I am surprised at your conduct! Here you are, making a slave of yourself, while your wife is playing the lady. She is not to blame; it is _you_. She would gladly do something for her own support, if you would permit her; and it would be better for her and for you.