Ernest Linwood Part 9

"If you live to years of womanhood," said my expiring mother, "and your heart awakens to love, as alas for woman's destiny it will, then read my life's sad experience, and be warned by my example."

Sad prophetess! Death has consecrated thy prediction, but it is yet unfulfilled. When will womanhood commence, on whose horizon the morning star of love is to rise in clouded l.u.s.tre?

Surely I am invested with a woman's dignity, in that great arm-chair, behind the green-covered desk. I feel very much like a blown rose, surrounded by the rose-bud garland of childhood. Yet Dr. Harlowe calls me "little girl," and Mr. Regulus "my child," when the pupils are not by; then it is "Miss Gabriella." They forget that I am sixteen, and that I have grown taller and more womanly in the last year; but the awakening heart has not yet throbbed at its dawning destiny, the day-star of love has not risen on its slumbers.

CHAPTER XIII.

"I wish you had a vacation too," said Richard Clyde, as we ascended together the winding hill.

"Then we should not have these pleasant walks," I answered.

"Why not?"

"Why, I should not be returning from school at this hour every day, and you would not happen to overtake me as you do now."

"How do you know it is accident, Gabriella? How do you know but I wander about the woods, a restless ghost, till glad ringing voices chiming together, announce that you are free, and that I am at liberty to play guardian and knight, as I did three or four years ago?"

"Because you would not waste your time so foolishly, and because I do not need a guardian now. I am in authority, you know, and no one molests or makes me afraid."

"Nevertheless, you need a guardian more than ever, and I shall remain true to my boyish allegiance."

Richard always had a gay, das.h.i.+ng way of talking, and his residence in college had certainly not subdued the gay spirit of chivalry that sparkled in his eye. He had grown much taller since I had seen him last, his face was more intellectual and altogether improved, and his dress was elegantly, though not foppishly, fas.h.i.+onable. He was an exceedingly agreeable companion. Even when I was most shy and sensitive, I felt at ease with him. When I say that I looked upon him something as an elder brother, I mean what I express,--not the sickly affectation with which young girls sometimes strive to hide a deeper feeling,--I remembered his steady school-boy friends.h.i.+p, his sympathy in the dark days of anguish and despair, and more than all, the rose, the sacred rose he had planted at my mother's grave.

I thanked him for this, with a choking voice and a moistened eye.

"Do not thank me," said he; "I had a mother once,--she, too, is gone.

The world may contain for us many friends, but never but one mother, Gabriella. I was only ten years old when mine was taken from me, but her influence is around me still, a safeguard and a blessing."

Words so full of feeling and reverence were more impressive falling from lips usually sparkling with gaiety and wit. We walked in silence up the gradual ascent, till we came to a fine old elm, branching out by the way-side, and we paused to rest under its boughs. As we did so, we turned towards the valley we were leaving behind, and beheld it stretching, a magnificent panorama, to the east and the west, the north and the south, wearing every shade of green, from the deep, rich hue of the stately corn to the brighter emerald of the oat fields, and the dazzling verdure of the pasture-land; and over all this glowing landscape the golden glory of approaching sunset hung like a royal canopy, whose purple fringes rested on the distant mountains.

"How beautiful!" I exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"How beautiful!" he echoed with equal fervor.

"You are but mocking my words, Richard,--you are not looking at the enchanting prospect."

"Yes, I am,--a very enchanting one."

"How foolis.h.!.+" I cried, for I could not but understand the emphasis of his smiling glance.

"Why am I more foolish in admiring one beautiful prospect than you another, Gabriella? You solicited my admiration for one charming view, while my eyes were riveted on another. If we are both sincere, we are equally wise."

"But it seems so unnecessary to take the pains to compliment me, when you know me so well, and when I know myself so well too."

"I doubt your self-knowledge very much. I do not believe, in the first place, that you are aware how wonderfully you are improved. You do not look the same girl you did a year ago. You have grown taller, fairer, brighter, Gabriella. I did not expect to see this, when I heard you had shut yourself up in the academy again, under the shadow of old Regulus's beetling brows."

"I am sure he is not old, Richard; he is in the very prime of manhood."

"Well, Professor Regulus, then. We boys have a habit of speaking of our teachers in this way. I know it is a bad one, but we all fall into it.

All our college professors have a metaphorical name, with the venerable epithet attached to it, which you condemn.

"I do not like it at all; it sounds so disrespectful, and, pardon me for saying it, even coa.r.s.e."

"You have a great respect for Mr. Regulus."

"I have; he is one of my best friends."

"I dare say he is; I should like to be in his place. You have another great friend, old Dr. Harlowe."

"There, again. Why, Dr. Harlowe is almost young, at least very far from being old. He is one of the finest looking men I ever saw, and one of the best. You college students must be a very presuming set of young men."

I spoke gravely, for I was really vexed that any one whom I esteemed as much as I did Richard, should adopt the vulgarisms he once despised.

"We _are_ a barbarous, rude set," he answered with redeeming frankness.

"We show exactly what a savage man is and would ever be, without the refining influence of women. If it were not for our vacations, we would soon get beyond the reach of civilization. Be not angry with my roughness, most gentle Gabriella. Pa.s.s over it your smoothing touch, and it shall have the polish of marble, without its coldness."

We had resumed our walk, and the granite walls of Grandison Place began to loom up above the surrounding shade.

"That is a n.o.ble mansion," said he. "How admirably such a residence must harmonize with your high, romantic thoughts. But there is one thing that impresses me with wonder,--that Mrs. Linwood, so rich, so liberal too, with only one daughter, should allow you, her adopted child, to devote your young hours to the drudgery of teaching. It seems so unnecessary, so inconsistent with her usual munificence of action."

The glow of wounded pride warmed my cheek. I had become happy in my vocation, but I could not bear to hear it depreciated, nor the motives of my benefactress misunderstood and misrepresented.

"Mrs. Linwood is as wise as she is kind," I answered, hastily. "It is my happiness and good she consults, not her own pleasure. Giving does not impoverish either her ample purse or her generous heart. She knows my nature, knows that I could not bear the stagnation of a life of luxurious ease."

"Edith can,--why not you?"

"We are so different. She was born for the position she occupies. She is one of the lilies of the valley, that toil not, neither do they spin, yet they fulfil a lovely mission. Do not try to make me discontented with a lot, so full of blessings, Richard. Surely no orphan girl was ever more tenderly cherished, more abundantly cared for."

"Discontented!" he exclaimed, "heaven forbid! I must be a wretched blunderer. I am saying something wrong all the time, with a heart full of most excellent intentions. Discontented! no, indeed; I have only the unfortunate habit of speaking before I think. I shall grow wiser as I grow older, I trust."

He reached up to a branch that bent over the way-side, and breaking it off, began to strip it of its green leaves and scatter them in the path.

"You do not think me angry, Richard?" I asked, catching some of the leaves, before they fell to the ground. "I once felt all that you express; and I was doubly wrong; I was guilty of ingrat.i.tude, you only of thoughtlessness."

"When does Mrs. Linwood expect her son?" he asked abruptly.

"Next summer, I believe; I do not exactly know."

"He will take strong hold of your poetic imagination. There is something 'grand, gloomy, and peculiar' about him; a mystery of reserve, which oft amounts to haughtiness. I am but very little acquainted with him, and probably never shall be. Should we chance to meet in society, we would be two parallel lines, never uniting, however near we might approach.

Besides, he is a number of years older than myself."

"I suppose you call him old Mr. Linwood," said I, laughing.

We had now entered the gate, and met Mrs. Linwood and Edith walking in the avenue, if Edith could be said to walk, borne on as she was by her softly falling crutches. She looked so exceedingly lovely, I wondered that Richard did not burst forth in expressions of irrepressible admiration. I was never weary of gazing on her beauty. Even after an absence of a few hours, it dawned upon me with new l.u.s.tre, like that of the rising day. I wondered that any one ever looked at any one else in her presence. As for myself, I felt annihilated by her dazzling fairness, as the little star is absorbed by the resplendent moon.