Part 3 (2/2)
Were it possible to probe the recesses of cerebration by some psychological process as searching as the Roentgen ray, many strange beliefs would be dragged from secret chambers sedulously guarded, where mental fetiches are wors.h.i.+pped. Those who knew Eliza Mitch.e.l.l well considered her a very pretty, dignified, reticent young widow, who won respect by her adherence to mourning garments--never laid aside after her husband's death; but her rigid observance of the strictest phase of Methodist discipline presented a certain austerity of character that appeared to rebuke quietly even the members of her own denomination who indulged in ”the putting on of gold and costly apparel, and taking such diversions” as aforetime were considered appanages of the ”flesh and the devil.”
Keenly observant and silently contemplative, she had grown shrewd as a judge of character, and laid the tribute of her confidence at the feet of few; yet this little woman, eminently practical and rigidly orthodox in the faith of her father, had surrendered to one belief that dominated heart, soul, and mind--that ruled her absolutely, and that she jealously guarded from all but her G.o.d. Her most intense and precious conviction was that the soul created and intended for her baby boy, who never breathed, had been a.s.signed to the body of Marcia's infant girl born a little later. She was a.s.sured that her child had never known life on earth, and had been in his coffin but a few hours when Eglah first opened her eyes. Souls never die. What of the soulless still-born? Would G.o.d deny any Christian mother reunion with her innocent baby in the world of spirits? From the hour that Marcia's wailing child was laid on Eliza's bosom she accepted it as an incarnation of the soul of little Elliot, adrift in s.p.a.ce but housed at last in the form committed to her fostering care. Whether this phantasmal belief sprang from feverish conditions under which she first felt the baby's warm lips at her breast, Eliza never questioned; and as the years pa.s.sed the conviction strengthened, until she easily explained all Eglah's waywardness by the hypothesis that a boy's soul fretted under the limitations of a girl's body. Ignorant of the complex elements that fed her devotion to the child, even Mrs. Maurice could not fully understand her idolatrous fondness, her perfect and marvellous patience that condoned all errors, and only Eglah could have told how often she was fondled as ”my Elliot”
when cradle songs were crooned in the sanctuary of the nursery.
Notwithstanding Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l was zealous in missionary work, and when she read her reports as treasurer of the ”Hindustan” fund, she dwelt feelingly on the benighted superst.i.tion that wors.h.i.+pped idols and believed in transmigration of soul.
After Mrs. Maurice's death, Mr. Whitfield as administrator closed Nutwood, leaving Aaron and his daughter Celia custodians, and Eglah and Eliza went to Was.h.i.+ngton, where two small rooms were selected for their occupancy in the fas.h.i.+onable ”apartments” leased by Senator Kent. His daughter now enjoyed every educational advantage that a governess for modern languages and a tutor for Greek and mathematics could supply, while teachers in the entire range of feminine accomplishments were eager to encourage cultivation of any special talent. In dancing and riding she was found surprisingly proficient, and as Senator Kent was desirous she should enter as early as possible a ”woman's college” in his native State where one of his sisters was professor, the child was industriously coached to achieve this purpose.
Standing as it were on the rim of a new world, strewn with the flotsam and jetsam of shattered political, ethical, and domestic systems, where all nations and social conditions found representation, Eglah and Eliza confronted novel customs, strange beliefs, and cosmopolitan diction that clashed sharply on the conservative standards of old Southern usage.
Tethered to the pivot of her Methodist discipline, Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l swung around the narrow circle of conscientious orthodoxy; but Eglah made alarming excursions into ecclesiastical provinces, and their first serious altercation arose from the announcement that the girl had decided to join the cla.s.s for confirmation in the Episcopal church where Judge Kent wors.h.i.+pped.
”Confirmation? Oh, no; you are too young to take such an important step.”
”Now, Ma-Lila, would you say that if I asked to join the Methodist Church?”
”That would be different, because you know more about the Church in which you have been raised.”
”I know the Episcopal catechism from cover to cover, and I like the service, and the choristers, and the candles used in some Episcopal churches, and----”
”Dearie, you merely want to follow your father, and, moreover----”
”Did not you follow your father? You are what you are just because your father was a Methodist preacher, and a chaplain who was killed bringing my grandfather off the battle-field. What are fathers for, if not to set us examples?”
”Do you forget your dear grandmother, and her love for the church you were christened in, and could you who owe her so much defy her wishes?”
”Grandmother is so glad to get away and be in heaven that she never will worry over me any more; and if I am only good enough to go where she is when I die, what difference will it make to her how I got there? Seems to me, Ma-Lila, all this strife over different faiths is as foolish as denying people their choice of routes when they go travelling in summer.
If we have perfect right to trust our bodies to our favorite railroad, we ought to feel as free to take tickets for our souls on any line that leads to G.o.d.”
Eliza took the girl's hands and pressed the soft palms to her own cheeks, as she said, in a voice that faltered despite her will:
”My darling, let us wait. Promise me one thing; do nothing for another year at least. For my sake, baby, I beg of you.”
Eglah saw unshed tears in the black eyes that had always shone tenderly on her, and rising she stole one arm around the nurse's neck and kissed her unsteady lips.
”Please don't fret about it. You shall have your wish. Of course I will wait a year if you think it best; but you must help me, because somehow it is harder for me to be good here than it was down at home.”
”It is a sacred promise you make me now.”
”I told you I would wait. Did I ever deceive you? You ought to know me better than Mrs. Kent, and even she told father yesterday she had been trying to find out whether I had most talent for the piano or the mandolin, and she concluded I really had no talent for anything--showed only genius for telling the truth.”
Thenceforth Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l redoubled her efforts to control the spiritual aspirations of the girl to whom she had devoted her life, and the bargain she made with her conscience was that Judge Kent had the right to train and develop and decorate the body of his daughter, even along lines she deemed Philistine, but the immortal spark--the soul intended for her little Elliot--was immutably hers, to be saved eternally in the faith to which her own hopes were anch.o.r.ed. That night, when she had brushed and braided Eglah's golden-brown hair that no one else ever arranged, she suddenly caught the slim form in a straining embrace.
”G.o.d bless my Elliot--my own precious baby!”
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