The Morgesons Part 25

She raised her eyebrows merely, and asked me if I would have more tea.

"In my room," I thought, "I shall find myself again." And as I opened my door, it welcomed me with so friendly and silent an aspect, that I betrayed my grief, and it covered my misery as with a cloak.

CHAPTER XX.

Helen was called home by the illness of her father and did not return to Rosville. She would write me, she said; but it was many weeks before I received a letter. Ben Somers about this time took a fit of industry, and made a plan for what he called a well-regulated life, averring that he should always abide by it. Every hour had its duty, which must be fulfilled. He weighed his bread and meat, ate so many ounces a day, and slept watch and watch, as he nautically termed it.

I guessed that the meaning of his plan was to withdraw from the self-chosen post of censor. His only alienation was an occasional disappearance for a few days. I never asked him where he went, and had never spoken to him concerning his mysterious remark about having been in Surrey. Neither had I heard anything of his being there from father. Once he told me that his father had explained the marriage of old Locke Morgeson; but that it was not clear to him that we were at all related.

In consequence of his rigorous life, I saw little of him. Though urged by Alice, he did not come to our house, and we rarely met him elsewhere. People called him eccentric, but as he was of a rich family he could afford to be, and they felt no slight by his neglect.

There was a change everywhere. The greatest change of all was in Charles. From the night of the sleigh-ride his manner toward me was totally altered. As far as I could discern, the change was a confirmed one. The days grew monotonous, but my mind avenged itself by night in dreams, which renewed our old relation in all its mysterious vitality.

So strong were their impressions that each morning I expected to receive some token from him which would prove that they were not lies. As my expectation grew cold and faint, the sense of a double hallucination tormented me--the past and the present.

The winter was over. I pa.s.sed it like the rest of Rosville, going out when Alice went, staying at home when she stayed. It was all one what I did, for my aspect was one of content.

Alice alone was unchanged; her spirits and pursuits were always the same. Judging by herself, if she judged at all, she perceived no change in us. Her theory regarding Charles was too firm to be shaken, and all his oddity was a matter of course. As long as I ate, and drank, and slept as usual, I too must be the same. He was not at home much. Business, kept him at the mills, where he often slept, or out of town. But the home machinery was still under his controlling hand. Not a leaf dropped in the conservatory that he did not see; not a meal was served whose slightest detail was not according to his desire. The horses were exercised, the servants managed, the children kept within bounds; nothing in the formula of our daily life was ever dropped, and yet I scarcely ever saw him! When we met, I shared his attentions. He gave me flowers; noticed my dress; spoke of the affairs of the day; but all in so public and matter-of-fact a way that I thought I must be the victim of a vicious sentimentality, or that he had amused himself with me. Either way, the sooner I cured myself of my vice the better.

But my dreams continued.

"I miss something in your letters," father complained. "What is it?

Would you like to come home? Your mother is failing in health--she may need you, though she says not."

I wrote him that I should come home.

"Are you prepared," he asked in return, "to remain at home for the future? Have you laid the foundation of anything by which you can abide contented, and employed? Veronica has been spending two months in New York, with the family of one of my business friends. All that she brings back serves to embellish her quiet life, not to change it.

Will it be so with you?"

I wrote back, "No; but I am coming."

He wrote again of changes in Surrey. Dr. Snell had gone, library and all, and a new minister, red hot from Andover, had taken his place. An ugly new church was building. His best s.h.i.+p, the _Locke Morgeson_, was at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, he had just heard. Her loss bothered him, but his letters were kinder than ever.

I consulted with Alice about leaving the Academy. She approved my plan, but begged me not to leave her. I said nothing of my determination to that effect, feeling a strange disinclination toward owning it, though I persisted in repeating it to myself. I applied diligently to my reading, emulating Ben Somers in the regularity of my habits, and took long walks daily--a mode of exercise I had adopted since I had ceased my rides with Charles. The pale blue sky of spring over me, and the pale green gra.s.s under me, were charming perhaps; but there was the same monotony in them, as in other things. I did not frequent our old promenade, Silver Street, but pushed my walks into the outskirts of Rosville, by farms bordered with woods. My schoolmates, who were familiar with all the pleasant spots of the neighborhood, met me in groups. "Are you really taking walks like the rest of us?" they asked. "Only alone," I answered.

I bade farewell at last to Miss Prior. We parted with all friendliness and respect; from the fact, possibly, that we parted ignorant of each other. It was the most rational relation that I had ever held with any one. We parted without emotion or regret, and I started on my usual walk.

As I was returning I met Ben Somers. When he saw me he threw his cap into the air, with the information that he had done with his plans, and had ordered an indigestible supper, in honor of his resolve. As people had truly remarked, he could afford to be eccentric. He was tired of it; he had money enough to do without law. "Not as much as your cousin Morgeson, who can do without the Gospel, too."

This was the first time that he had referred to Charles since that memorable night. Trifling as his words were, they broke into the foundations of my stagnant will, and set the tide flowing once more.

"You went to Surrey."

"I was there a few hours. Your father was not at home. He asked me there, you remember. I introduced myself, therefore, and was politely received by your mother, who sent for Veronica. She came in with an occupied air, her hands full of what I thought were herbs; but they were gra.s.ses, which she had been re-arranging, she said.

"'You know my sister?' she asked, coming close, and looking at me with the most singular eyes that were ever on earth." He stopped a moment.

"Not like yours, in the least," he continued. "'Ca.s.sandra is very handsome now, is she?'

"'Why, Veronica,' said your mother, 'you astonish Mr. Somers.'

"'You are not astonished,' she said with vehemence, 'you are embarra.s.sed.'

"'Upon my soul I am,' I replied, feeling at ease as soon as I had said so.

"'Tell me, what has Ca.s.sandra been taught? Is Rosville suited to her?

We are not.'

"'Veronica!' said your mother again.

"'Mother," and she shook the gra.s.ses, and made a little snow fall round her; 'what shall I say then? I am sure he knows Ca.s.sandra. What did you come here for?' turning to me again.

"'To see you,' I answered foolishly.

"'And has Ca.s.sandra spoken of me?' Her pale face grew paler, and an indescribable expression pa.s.sed over it. 'I do not often speak of her.'

"'She does not of you,' I was obliged to answer. And then I said I must go. But your mother made me dine with them. When I came away Veronica offered me her hand, but she sent no message to you. She has never been out of my mind a moment since."

"You remember the particulars of the interview very well."

"Why not?"

"Would she bear your supervision?"

"Forgive me, Ca.s.sandra. Have I not been making a hermit of myself, eating bread and meat by the ounce, for an expiation?"

"How did it look there? Oh, tell me!"

"You strange girl, have you a soul then? It is a grand place, where it has not been meddled with. I hired a man to drive me as far as any paths went, into those curving horns of land, on each side of Surrey to the south. The country is crazy with barrenness, and the sea mocks it with its terrible beauty."

"You will visit us, won't you?"

"Certainly; I intend to go there."

"Do you know that I left school to-day?"

"It is time."

I hurried into the house, for I did not wish to hear any questions from him concerning my future. Charlotte, who was rolling up an umbrella in the hall, said it was tea-time, adding that Mr. Morgeson had come, and that he was in the dining-room. I went upstairs to leave my bonnet. As I pulled off my glove the ring on my finger twisted round. I took it off, for the first time since Charles had given it to me. A sense of haste came upon me; my hands trembled. I brushed my hair with the back of the brush, shook it out, and wound it into a loose ma.s.s, thrust in my comb and went down. Charlotte was putting candles on the tea table. Edward was on his father's knee; Alice was waiting by the tray.

"Here--is--Ca.s.sandra," said Charles, mentioning the fact as if he merely wished to attract the child's attention.

"Here--is--Ca.s.sandra," I repeated, imitating his tone. He started.

Some devil broke loose in him, and looking through his eyes an instant, disappeared, like a maniac who looks through the bars of his cell, and dodges from the eye of his keeper. Jesse brought me a letter while we were at the table. It was from Helen. I broke its seal to see how long it was, and put it aside.

"I am free, Alice. I have left the Academy, and am going to set up for an independent woman."