Part 72 (1/2)
Mr. Andrews placed his hand on the orphan's bowed head.
”Miss Earl, you must let me tell you that I look upon you as a member of my family; that my wife and I love you almost as well as if you were one of our children; and I hope you will not refuse to accompany Kate on the tour she contemplates. Let me take your own father's place; and I shall regard it as a great favor to me and mine if you will consent to go, and allow me to treat you always as I do my Hattie. I have no doubt you will derive as much benefit from travelling, as I certainly hope for Felix.”
”Thank you, Mr. Andrews, I appreciate your generosity, and I prize the affection and confidence which you and your wife have shown me.
I came, an utter stranger, into your house, and you kindly made me one of the family circle. I am alone in the world, and have become strongly attached to your children. Felix is not merely my dear pupil, he is my brother, my companion, my little darling! I can not be separated from him. Next to his mother he belongs to me. Oh! I will travel with him anywhere that you and Mrs. Andrews think it best he should go. I will never, never leave him.”
She disengaged the boy's arms, laid him back on his pillows, and went to her own room.
In the midst of prompt preparations for departure Edna's new novel appeared. She had christened it ”s.h.i.+NING THORNS ON THE HEARTH,” and dedicated it ”To my countrywomen, the Queens who reign thereon.”
The aim of the book was to discover the only true and allowable and womanly sphere of feminine work, and, though the theme was threadbare, she fearlessly picked up the frayed woof and rewove it.
The tendency of the age was to equality and communism, and this, she contended, was undermining the golden thrones s.h.i.+ning in the blessed and hallowed light of the hearth, whence every true woman ruled the realm of her own family. Regarding every pseudo ”reform” which struck down the social and political distinction of the s.e.xes, as a blow that crushed one of the pillars of woman's throne, she earnestly warned the Crowned Heads of the danger to be apprehended from the unfortunate and deluded female malcontents, who, dethroned in their own realm, and despised by their quondam subjects, roamed as pitiable, royal exiles, threatening to usurp man's kingdom; and to proud, happy mothers, guarded by Praetorian bands of children, she reiterated the a.s.surance that
”Those who rock the cradle rule the world.”
Most carefully she sifted the records of history, tracing in every epoch the sovereigns of the hearth-throne who had reigned wisely and contentedly, enn.o.bling and refining humanity; and she proved by ill.u.s.trious examples that the borders of the feminine realm could not be enlarged, without rendering the throne unsteady, and subverting G.o.d's law of order. Woman reigned by divine right only at home. If married, in the hearts of husband and children, and not in the gilded, bedizened palace of fas.h.i.+on, where thinly veiled vice and frivolity hold carnival, and social upas and social asps wave and trail. If single, in the affections of brothers and sisters and friends, as the golden sceptre in the hands of parents. If orphaned, she should find sympathy and grat.i.tude and usefulness among the poor and the afflicted.
Consulting the statistics of single women, and familiarizing herself with the arguments advanced by the advocates of that ”progress,”
which would indiscriminately throw open all professions to women, she entreated the poor of her own s.e.x, if ambitious, to become sculptors, painters, writers, teachers in schools or families; or else to remain mantau-makers, milliners, spinners, dairymaids; but on the peril of all womanhood not to meddle with scalpel or red tape, and to shun rostra of all description, remembering St. Paul's injunction, that ”IT IS NOT PERMITTED UNTO WOMEN TO SPEAK”; and even that ”IT IS A SHAME FOR WOMEN TO SPEAK IN THE CHURCH.”
To married women who thirsted for a draught of the turbid waters of politics, she said: ”If you really desire to serve the government under which you live, recollect that it was neither the speeches thundered from the forum, nor the prayers of priests and augurs, nor the iron tramp of glittering legions, but the ever triumphant, maternal influence, the potent, the pleading 'My son!' of Volumnia, the mother of Coriola.n.u.s, that saved Rome.”
To discontented spinsters, who travelled like Pandora over the land, haranguing audiences that secretly laughed at and despised them, to these unfortunate women, clamoring for power and influence in the national councils, she pointed out that quiet, happy home at ”Barley Wood,” whence immortal Hannah More sent forth those writings which did more to tranquilize England, and bar the hearts of its yeomanry against the temptations of red republicanism than all the eloquence of Burke, and the cautious measures of Parliament.
Some errors of style, which had been pointed out by critics as marring her earlier writings, Edna had endeavored to avoid in this book, which she humbly offered to her countrywomen as the best of which she was capable.
From the day of its appearance it was a success; and she had the gratification of hearing that some of the seed she had sown broadcast in the land fell upon good ground, and promised an abundant harvest.
Many who called to bid her good-bye on the day before the steamer sailed, found it impossible to disguise their apprehensions that she would never return; and some who looked tearfully into her face and whispered ”G.o.d-speed!” thought they saw the dread signet of death set on her white brow.
To Edna it was inexpressibly painful to cross the Atlantic while Mr.
Hammond's health was so feeble; and over the long farewell letter which she sent him, with a copy of her new book, the old man wept.
Mrs. Murray had seemed entirely estranged since that last day spent at Le Bocage, and had not written a line since the orphan's return to New York. But when she received the new novel, and the affectionate, mournful, meek note that accompanied it, Mrs. Murray laid her head on her son's bosom and sobbed aloud.
Dr. Howell and Mr. Manning went with Edna aboard the steamer, and both laughed heartily at her efforts to disengage herself from a pertinacious young book-vender, who, with his arms full of copies of her own book, stopped her on deck, and volubly extolled its merits, insisting that she should buy one to while away the tedium of the voyage.
Dr. Howell gave final directions concerning the treatment of Felix, and then came to speak to the governess.
”Even now, sadly as you have abused your const.i.tution, I shall have some hope of seeing gray hairs about your temples, if you will give yourself unreservedly to relaxation of mind. You have already accomplished so much that you can certainly afford to rest for some months at least. Read nothing, write nothing (except long letters to me), study nothing but the aspects of nature in European scenery, and you will come back improved to the country that is so justly proud of you. Disobey my injunctions, and I shall soon be called to mourn over the announcement that you have found an early grave, far from your native land, and among total strangers. G.o.d bless you, dear child! and bring you safely back to us.”
As he turned away, Mr. Manning took her hand and said:
”I hope to meet you in Rome early in February; but something might occur to veto my programme. If I should never see you again in this world, is there anything that you wish to say to me now?”
”Yes, Mr. Manning. If I should die in Europe, have my body brought back to America and carried to the South--my own dear South, that I love so well--and bury me close to Grandpa, where I can sleep quietly in the cool shadow of old Lookout; and be sure, please be sure, to have my name carved just below Grandpa's, on his monument.
I want that one marble to stand for us both.”