The Missing Bride Part 26

"Hish-is.h.!.+ I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen--"

"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes and hanging secrets--don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!"

"'Fraid o' what? n.o.body can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little incoherently.

"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you."

"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses!

Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely; "let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as they do! if I am a lone 'oman!"

"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything against you except unpopularity."

"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!"

"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my feelings--yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell me how you found it out!"

"Well, yes, I am certain--sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, n.o.body in this country don't know it but myself--and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before anybody else finds it out!"

"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor.

"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me!

Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her property, and her, too--would have her all to yourself, and n.o.body to interfere. Don't you see?"

"Well, to be sure--when one looks at the thing in this light,"

deliberated the sorely-tempted lover.

"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see?

Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest favor."

CHAPTER XX.

AS A LAST RESORT.

In the meantime Marian's heart was weighed down by a new cause of sorrow and anxiety. Thurston never approached her now, either in person or by letter. She never saw him, except at the church, the lecture-room, or in mixed companies, where he kept himself aloof from her and devoted himself to the beautiful and accomplished heiress Angelica Le Roy, to whom rumor gave him as an accepted suitor.

So free was Marian's pure heart from jealousy or suspicion that these attentions bestowed by Thurston, and these rumors circulated in the neighborhood, gave her no uneasiness. For though she had, for herself, discovered him to be pa.s.sionate and impetuous, she believed him to be sound in principle. But when again and again she saw them together, at church, at lecture, at dinner parties, at evening dances; when at all the Christmas and New Year festivities she saw her escorted by him; when she saw him ever at her side with a devotion as earnest and ardent as it was perfectly respectful; when she saw him bend and whisper to the witching girl and hang delighted on her "low replies," her own confidence was shaken. What could he mean? Was it possible that instead of being merely impulsive and erring, he was deliberately wicked? No, no, never! Yet, what could be his intentions? Did he really wish to win Angelica's heart? Alas! whether he wished so or not, it was but too evident to all that he had gained her preference. In her blus.h.i.+ng cheek and downcast eyes, and tremulous voice and embarra.s.sed manner, when he was present, in her abstracted mind, and restless air of wandering glances when he was absent, the truth was but too clear.

Marian was far too practical to speculate when she should act. It was clearly her duty to speak to Thurston on the subject, and, repugnant as the task was, she resolved to perform it. It was some time before she had the opportunity.

But at last, one afternoon in February, she chanced to meet Thurston on the sea beach. After greeting him, she candidly opened the subject. She spoke gently and delicately, but firmly and plainly--more so, perhaps, than another woman in the same position would have done, for Marian was eminently frank and fearless, especially where conscience was concerned.

And Thurston met her arguments with a graceful nonchalance, as seemingly polite and good-humored as it was really ironical and insulting.

Marian gave him time--she was patient as firm--and firm as sorrowful.

And until every argument and persuasion had failed, she said:

"As a last resort, it may be necessary for me to warn Miss Le Roy--not for my own sake. Were I alone involved, you know how much I would endure rather than grieve you. But this young lady must not suffer wrong."

"You will write her an anonymous letter, possibly?"

"No--I never take an indirect road to an object."

"What, then, can you do, fair saint?"

"See Miss Le Roy, personally."

"Ha! ha! ha! What apology could you possibly make for such an unwarrantable interference?"

"The Lord knoweth! I do not now. But I trust to be able to save her without--revealing you."

"Do you imagine that vague warnings would have any effect upon her?"

"Coming from me they would."

"Heavens! What a self-wors.h.i.+per! But selfishness is your normal state, Marian! Self-love is your only affection--self-adulation your only enthusiasm--self-wors.h.i.+p your only religion! You do not desire to be loved--you wish only to be honored! The love I offered you, you trampled underfoot! You have no heart, you have only a brain! You cannot love, you only think! Nor have you any need of love, but only of power!

Applause is your vital breath, your native air! To hear your name and praise on every tongue--that is your highest ambition! Such a woman should be a gorgon of ugliness that men might not waste their hearts'

wealth upon her!" exclaimed Thurston, bitterly, gazing with murky eyes, that smoldered with suppressed pa.s.sion, upon the beautiful girl before him.

Marian was standing with her eyes fixed abstractedly upon a distant sail. Now the tears swelled under the large white eyelids and hung glittering on the level lashes, and her lip quivered and her voice faltered slightly as she answered:

"You see me through a false medium, dear Thurston, but the time will come when you will know me as I am."

"I fancy the time has come. It has also come for me to enlighten you a little. And in the first place, fair queen of minds, if not of hearts, let me a.s.sure you that there is a limit even to your almost universal influence. And that limit may be found in Miss Le Roy. You, who know the power of thought only, cannot weigh nor measure the power of love. Upon Miss Le Roy your warnings would have no effect whatever. I tell you that in the face of them (were I so disposed), I might lead that girl to the altar to-morrow."

Marian was silent, not deeming an answer called for.

"And now, I ask you, how you could prevent it?"

"I shall not be required to prevent such an act, Thurston, as such a one never can take place. You speak so only to try your Marian's faith or temper--both are proof against jests, I think. Hitherto you have trifled with the young lady's affections for mere _ennui_ and thoughtlessness, I do believe! but, now that some of the evil consequences have been suggested to your mind, you will abandon such perilous pastime. You are going to France soon--that will be a favorable opportunity of breaking off the acquaintance."

"And breaking her heart--who knows? But suppose now that I should prefer to marry her and take her with me?"

"Nay, of course, I cannot for an instant suppose such a thing."

"But in spite of all your warnings, were such an event about to take place?"

"In such an exigency I should divulge our marriage."

"You would?"

"a.s.suredly! How can you possibly doubt it? Such an event would abrogate my obligations to silence, and would impose upon me the opposite duty of speaking."

"I judged you would reason so," he said, bitterly.