Infelice Part 7

"Do you think I read your letter?"

"I shall think no more about it."

"I will paint her as I see her, Ten times have the lilies blown Since she looked upon the sun, Face and figure of a child,-- Though top calm, you think, and tender, For the childhood you would lend her."

CHAPTER IV.

"Indeed, Peyton, you distress me. What can be the matter? I heard you walking the floor of your room long after midnight, and feared you were ill."

"Not ill, Elise, but sorely perplexed. If I felt at liberty to communicate all the circ.u.mstances to you, doubtless you would readily comprehend and sympathize with the peculiar difficulties that surround me; but unfortunately I am bound by a promise which prevents me from placing all the facts in your possession. Occasionally ministers involuntarily become the custodians of family secrets that oppress their hearts and burden them with unwelcome responsibility, and just now I am suffering from the consequences of a rash promise which compa.s.sion extorted from me years ago. While I heartily regret it, my conscience will not permit me to fail in its fulfilment."

An expression of pain and wounded pride overshadowed Mrs. Lindsay's usually bright, happy face.

"Peyton, surely you do not share the unjust opinion so fas.h.i.+onable nowaday, that women are unworthy of being entrusted with a secret?

What has so suddenly imbued you with distrust of the sister who has always shared your cares, and endeavoured to divide your sorrows? Do you believe me capable of betraying your confidence?

"No, dear. In all that concerns myself, you must know I trust you implicitly,--trust not only your affection, but your womanly discretion, your subtle, critical judgment; but I have no right to commit even to your careful guardians.h.i.+p some facts which were expressly confided solely to my own."

He laid his hand on his sister's shoulder, and looked fondly, almost pleadingly, into her clouded countenance, but the flush deepened on her fair cheek.

"The conditions of secrecy, the envelope of mystery, strongly implies something socially disgraceful, or radically wicked, and ministers of the Gospel should not const.i.tute themselves the locked reservoirs of such turbid streams."

"Granting that you actually believe in your own supposition, why are you so anxious to pollute your ears with the recital of circ.u.mstances that you a.s.sume to be degrading, or sinful?"

"I only fear your misplaced sympathy may induce you to compromise your ministerial dignity and consistency, for it is quite evident to me that your judgment does not now acquit you in this matter--whatever it may be."

"G.o.d forbid that, in obeying the dictates of my conscience, I should transgress even conventional propriety, or incur the charge of indiscretion. None can realize more keenly than I that a minister's character is of the same delicate magnolia-leaf texture as a woman's name,--a thing so easily stained that it must be ever elevated beyond the cleaving dust of suspicion, and the scorching breath of gossiping conjecture. The time has pa.s.sed (did it ever really exist?) when the prestige of pastoral office hedged it around with impervious infallibility, and to-day, instead of partial and extenuating leniency, pure and uncontaminated society justly denies all ministerial immunities as regards the rigid mandates of social decorum and propriety,--and the world demands that, instead of drawing heavily upon an indefinite fund of charitable confidence and trust in the clergy, pulpit-people should so live and move that the microscope of public scrutiny can reveal no flaws. Do you imagine I share the dangerous heresy that the sanct.i.ty of the office ent.i.tles the inc.u.mbent to make a football of the restrictions of prudence and discretion? Elise, I hold that pastors should be as circ.u.mspect, as guarded as Roman vestals; and untainted society, guided by even the average standard of propriety, tolerates no lat.i.tudinarians among its Levites. I grieve that it is necessary for me to add, that I honour and bow in obedience to its exactions."

The chilling severity of his tone smote like a flail the loving heart, which had rebelled only against the apparent lack of faith in its owner, and springing forward Mrs. Lindsay threw her arms around her brother's neck.

"Oh, Peyton! don't look at me so sternly, as if I were a sort of domestic Caiaphas set to catechise and condemn you; or as if I were unjustly impugning your motives. It is all your fault,--of course it is,--for you have spoiled me by unreserved confidence heretofore, and you ought not to blame me in the least for feeling hurt when at this late day you indulge in mysteries. Now kiss me, and forget my ugly temper, and set it all down to that Pandora legacy of sleepless curiosity, which dear mother Eve received in her impudent tete-a-tete with the serpent, and which she spitefully saw fit to bequeath to every daughter who has succeeded her. So--we are at peace once more?

Now keep your horrid secrets to yourself, and welcome!"

"You persist in believing that they must inevitably be horrid?" said he, softly stroking her rosy cheek with his open palm.

"I persist in begging that you will not expect me to adopt the acrobatic style, or require me to instantly attain sanctification _per saltum!_ You must be satisfied with the a.s.surance that you are indeed my 'Royal Highness,' and that in my creed it is written the king can do no wrong. There, dear, I am not at all addicted to humble pie, and I have already disposed of a large and unpalatable slice."

She made a grimace, whereat he smiled, kissed her again, and answered very gently:

"Will you permit me to put an appendix to your creed? 'Charity suffereth long, and is kind; is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.' My sister, I want you to help me. In some things I find myself as powerless without your co-operation as a pair of scissors with the rivet lost; I cannot cut through obstacles unless you are in your proper place."

"For shame, you spiteful Pequod! to rivet your treacherous appeal with so sharply pointed an ill.u.s.tration! Scissors, indeed! I will be revenged by cutting all your work after a biased fas.h.i.+on. How would it suit you, reverend sir, to take the rivet out of my tongue, and repair your clerical scissors?"

"How narrowly you escaped being a genius! That is precisely what I was about proposing to do, and now, dear, be sure you bid adieu to all bias. Elise, I received a letter two days since, which annoyed me beyond expression."

"I inferred as much, from the vindictive energy with which you thrust it into the fire, and bored it with the end of the poker. Was it infected with small-pox or leprosy?"

She opened her work basket, and began to crochet vigorously, keeping her eyes upon her needle.

"Neither. I destroyed it simply and solely because it was the earnest request of the writer, that I should commit it to the flames."

"_Par parenthese!_ from the beginning of time have not discord, mischief, trouble--been personified by females? Has there been a serious _imbroglio_ since the days of Troy without some vexatious Helen? Now don't scold me, if in this case I conjecture,--He? She?

It?"

"The letter was from a mother, pleading for her child, whom I several years ago promised to protect and to befriend. Subsequent events induced me to hope that she would never exact a fulfilment of the pledge, and I was unpleasantly surprised when the appeal reached me."

"Let me understand fully the little that you wish to tell me. Do you mean that you were unprepared for the demand, because the mother had forfeited the conditions under which you gave the promise?"

"You unduly intensify the interpretation. My promise was unconditional, but I certainly have never expected to be called upon to verify it."

"What does it involve?"

"The temporary guardians.h.i.+p of a child ten years old, whom I have never seen."

"He? She? It?"

"A girl, who will in all probability arrive before noon to-day."

"Peyton!"

The rose-coloured crochet web fell into her lap, and deep dissatisfaction spread its sombre leaden banners over her telltale face.

"I regret it more keenly than you possibly can; and, Elise, if I could have seen the mother before it was too late, I should have declined this painful responsibility."

"Too late? Is the woman dead?"

"No, but she has sailed for Europe, and notifies me that she leaves the little girl under my protection."

"What a heartless creature she must be to abandon her child."

"On the contrary, she seems devotedly attached to her, and uses these words: 'If it were not to promote her interest, do you suppose I could consent to put the Atlantic between my baby and me?' The circ.u.mstances are so unusual that I daresay you fail to understand my exact position."

"I neither desire nor intend to force your confidence; but if you can willingly answer, tell me whether the mother is in every respect worthy of your sympathy."

"I frankly admit that upon some points I have been dissatisfied, and her letter sorely perplexes me."

"What claim had she on you, when the promise was extorted?"

"She had none, save such as human misery always has on human sympathy. I performed the marriage ceremony for her when she was a mere child, and felt profound compa.s.sion for the wretchedness that soon overtook her as a wife and mother."

"Then, my dear brother, there is no alternative, and you must do your duty; and I shall not fail to help you to the fullest extent of my feeble ability. Since it cannot be averted, let us try to put our hearts as well as hands into the work of receiving the waif. Where has the child been living?"

"For nearly seven years in a convent."

"_Tant mieux!_ We may at least safely infer she has been s.h.i.+elded from vicious and objectionable companions.h.i.+p. How is her education to be conducted in future?"