The Morgesons Part 15

I stopped by the door, while Charles went to the desk and stood before him to intercept my view, but he could not help my hearing what was said, though he spoke low.

"Did you give something to Sam, Parker, for bringing me your note at such a late hour?"

"Certainly," in a loud voice.

"He must be fifty, at least."

"I should say so," rather lower.

"Well, here is your money; you had better stay. I shall be devilish sorry for your father, who is my friend; you know he will be disappointed if you leave; depend upon it he will guess at the girl.

Of course you would like to have me say I was in fault about giving you a blow--as I was. Stay. You will get over the affair. We all do.

Is she handsome?"

"Beautiful," in a meek but enthusiastic tone.

"That goes, like the flowers; but they come every year again."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I say."

"No; I'll stay and see."

Charles turned away.

"Good-evening, Mr. Parker," I said, stepping forward. I had met him at several parties at Rosville, but never at our house.

"Excuse me, Miss Morgeson; I did not know you. I hope you are well."

"Come," said Charles, with his hand on the latch.

"Are you going to Mrs. Bancroft's whist party on Wednesday night, Mr.

Parker?"

"Yes; Miss Perkins was kind enough to invite me."

"Ca.s.sandra, come." And Charles opened the door. I fumbled for the flower at my belt. "It's nice to have flowers so late; don't you think so?" inhaling the fragrance of my crushed specimens; "if they would but last. Will you have it?" stretching it toward him. He was about to take it, with a blush, when Charles struck it out of my hand and stepped on it.

"Are you ready now?" he said, in a quick voice.

I declared it was nothing, when I found I was too ill to rise the next morning. At the end of three days, as I still felt a disinclination to get up, Alice sent for her physician. I told him I was sleepy and felt dull pains. He requested me to sit up in bed, and rapped my shoulders and chest with his knuckles, in a forgetful way.

"Nothing serious," he said; "but, like many women, you will continue to do something to keep in continual pain. If Nature does not endow your const.i.tution with suffering, you will make up the loss by some fatal trifling, which will bring it. I dare say, now, that after this, you never will be quite well."

"I will take care of my health."

He looked into my face attentively.

"You wont--you can't. Did you ever notice your temperament?"

"No, never; what is it?"

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen, and four months."

"Is it possible? How backward you are! You are quite interesting."

"When may I get up?"

"Next week; don't drink coffee. Remember to live in the day. Avoid stirring about in the night, as you would avoid Satan. Sleep, sleep then, and you'll make that beauty of yours last longer."

"Am I a beauty? No living creature ever said so before."

"Adipose beauty."

"Fat?"

"No; not that exactly. Good-day."

He came again, and asked me questions concerning my father and mother; what my grandparents died of; and whether any of my family were strumous. He struck me as being very odd.

My school friends were attentive, but I only admitted Helen Perkins to see me. Her liking for me opened my heart still more toward her. She was my first intimate friend--and my last. Though younger than I, she was more experienced, and had already pa.s.sed through scenes I knew nothing of, which had sobered her judgment, and given her feelings a practical tinge. She was noted for having the highest spirits of any girl in school--another result of her experiences. She never allowed them to appear fluctuating; she was, therefore, an aid to me, whose moods varied.

After my illness came a sense of change. I had lost that careless security in my strength which I had always possessed, and was troubled with vague doubts, that made me feel I needed help from without.

I did not see Charles while I was ill, for he was absent most of the time. I knew when he was at home by the silence which pervaded the premises. When he was not there, Alice spread the children in all directions, and the servants gave tongue.

He was not at home the day I went downstairs, and I missed him, continually asking myself, "Why do I?" As I sat with Alice in the garden-room, I said, "Alice." She looked up from her sewing. "I am thinking of Charles."

"Yes. He will be glad to see you again."

"Is he really related to me?"

"He told you so, did he not? And his name certainly is Morgeson."

"But we are wholly unlike, are we not?"

"Wholly; but why do you ask?"

"He influences me so strongly."

"Influences you?" she echoed.

"Yes"; and, with an effort, "I believe I influence him."

"You are very handsome," she said, with a little sharpness. "So are flowers," I said to myself.