A Day of Fate Part 53

Yocomb, please excuse me. I'm selfish enough to prefer the cool piazza."

"But thee hasn't eaten anything."

"Oh, yes, I have, and I made a huge dinner," I replied carelessly, and sauntered out and lighted a cigar. Instead of coming out on the piazza, as I hoped, Miss Warren bade Mr. Hearn good-night in the hall, and, pleading fatigue, went to her room.

She was down to see him off in the morning, and at his request accompanied him to the depot. I was reading on the piazza when she returned, and I hastened to a.s.sist her from the rockaway.

"Miss Warren," I exclaimed, in deep solicitude, "this long, hot ride has been too much for you."

"Perhaps it has," she replied briefly, without meeting my eyes. "I'll go and rest."

She pleaded a headache, and did not come down to dinner. Mrs. Yocomb returned from her room with a troubled face.

I had resolved that I would not seek to see her alone while Mr. Hearn was away, and so resumed my long rambles. When I returned, about supper time, she was sitting on the piazza watching Adela and Zillah playing with their dolls. She did not look up as I took a seat on the steps not far away.

At last I began, "Can I tell you that I am very sorry you have been ill to-day?"

"I wasn't dangerous, as country people say," she replied, a little brusquely.

"You look as if Dapple might run over you now."

"A kitten might run over me," she replied briefly, still keeping her eyes on the children.

By and by she asked, "Why do you look at me so intently, Mr. Morton?"

"I beg your pardon."

"That's not answering my question."

"Suppose I deny that I was looking at you. You have not condescended to glance at me yet."

"You had better not deny it."

"Well, then, to tell you the truth, as I find I always must, I was looking for some trace of mercy. I was thinking whether I could venture to ask forgiveness for being more of a brute than Dapple yesterday."

"Have your words troubled you very much?"

"They have indeed."

"Well, they've troubled me too. You think I'm heartless, Mr. Morton;"

and she arose and went to her piano.

I followed her instantly. "Won't you forgive me?" I asked; "I've repented."

"Oh, nonsense, Mr. Morton. You know as well as I do that I'm the one to ask forgiveness."

"No, I don't," I said, in a low, pa.s.sionate tone. "I fear you are grieving about what you can't help."

"Can't help?" she repeated, flus.h.i.+ng.

"Yes, my being here makes you unhappy. If I knew it, I'd go to-night."

"And you think that out of sight would be out of mind," she said, with a strange smile.

"Great G.o.d! I don't know what to think. I know that I would do anything under heaven to make you look as you did the first night I saw you."

"Do I look so badly?"

"You look as if you might take wings and leave us at any moment."

"Then I wouldn't trouble you any more."

"Then my trouble would be without remedy. Marry Mr. Hearn; marry him to-morrow, if you wish. I a.s.sure you that if you will be honestly and truly happy, I won't mope a day--I'll become the jolliest old bachelor in New York. I'll do anything within the power of man to make you your old joyous self."

Now at last she turned her large, glorious eyes upon me, and their expression was sadness itself; but she only said quietly:

"I believe you, Mr. Morton."

"Then tell me, what can I do?"

"Come to supper;" and she rose and left me.

I went to my old seat by the window, and the tumult in my heart was in wide contrast with the quiet summer evening.

"You are mistaken, Emily Warren," I thought. "You have as much as said that I can do nothing for you. I'll break your chain. You shall not marry Gilbert Hearn, if I have to protest in the very church and before the altar. You are mine, by the best and divinest right, and with your truth as my ally I'll win you yet. From this hour I dedicate myself to your happiness. Heavens, how blind I've been!"

"Come, Richard," said Mrs. Yocomb, putting her head within the door.

Miss Warren sat in her place, silent and apathetic. She had the aspect of one who had submitted to the inevitable, but would no longer pretend she liked it. Mr. Yocomb was regarding her furtively, with a clouded brow, and Adah's glances were frequent and perplexed. I felt as if walking on air, and my heart was aglow with gladness; but I knew her far too well to show what was in my mind. My purpose now was to beguile the hours till I could show her what truth really required of her. With the utmost tact that I possessed, and with all the zest that hope confirmed inspired, I sought to diffuse a general cheerfulness, and I gradually drew her into the current of our talk. After supper I told them anecdotes of public characters and eminent people, for my calling gave me a great store of this kind of information. Ere she was aware, the despondent girl was asking questions, and my answers piqued her interest still more; at last, quite late in the evening, Mr. Yocomb exclaimed:

"Look here, Richard, what right has thee to keep me out of my bed long after regular hours? I'm not a night editor. Good people, you must all go to bed. I'm master of this house. Now, don't say anything, mother, to take me down."

Finding myself alone with Miss Warren a moment in the hall, I asked:

"Have I not done more than merely come to supper?"

She turned from me instantly, and went swiftly up the stairway.

But the apathetic, listless look was on her face when she came down in the morning, and she appeared as if pa.s.sively yielding to a dreaded necessity. I resumed my old tactics, and almost in spite of herself drew her into the genial family life. Mr. Yocomb seconded me with unflagging zeal and commendable tact, while Mrs. Yocomb surpa.s.sed us both. Adah seemed a little bewildered, as if there were something in the air which she could not understand. But we made the social suns.h.i.+ne of the house so natural and warm that she could not resist it.

"Reuben," I said, after breakfast, "Miss Warren is not well. A ride after Dapple is the best medicine I ever took. Take Miss Warren out for a swift, short drive; don't let her say no. You have the tact to do the thing in the right way."

She did decline repeatedly, but he so persisted that she at last said:

"There, Reuben, I will go with you."

"I think thee might do that much for a friend, as thee calls me."

When she returned there was a faint color in her cheeks. The rapid drive had done her good, and I told her so as I helped her from the light wagon.