CHAPTER XVII
OH, WHICH IS LOVE?
March opened cold and stormy. Rheumatism made a clutch at M. deRonville. For several days he did not come downstairs, but insistedthat some of the guests must come to him. Dr. Langdale skipped awayfrom a lecture he really desired to hear, and spent an hour comfortingthe invalid. Madame Clerval came in with a budget of news and friendlygossip, and Daffodil talked of her little girlhood, and old Pittsburg,as they had begun to call it, and sitting on the arm ofgreat-grandfather's chair, and listening to tales of a still oldertime. He did not wonder that his friend Duvernay had lived to bealmost a hundred, with all that affection to make the way pleasant.
Then he improved and came downstairs, took up chess-playing, andlittle promenades on the porch when the sun shone. And then the talkveered round to Daffodil's departure. He would not hear anything aboutit at first.
"Yet we have no right to keep her away from her own household, whenshe has been brave enough to give up all the winter to us," Mr.Bartram said.
"Oh, no, I suppose not. If I was younger, or in assured health, Ishould go and spend the summer with them. Oh, don't look so startled.I know it wouldn't do, with my uncertain health."
Aldis smiled. "If the summer is fine, and you keep pretty well, wemight both take a trip. I would hardly trust you to go alone."
"So we might." The elder was gratified with the consideration.
"Aldis?" presently, in a half-enquiring tone.
"Well?" glancing up.
"Do you think--that Dr. Langdale--that there is anything between himand Daffodil?"
"There has been some talk. But young Pemberton is devoted to her aswell."
"With either she would have to come back here to live. I like thedoctor. He is such a fine, large-hearted, sympathetic young fellow,with so much real charity for suffering. I seem to be envying otherpeople's sons and daughters;" ending with a longing sound. "Yes, ifshe were in love with him."
Aldis Bartram experienced a feeling of protest. Yet, why should heobject? They were both young, they had been friends from childhood,and he was certainly worthy of her.
That very evening he dropped in. There had been a wonderful surgicaloperation on a poor fellow, who had been mashed and broken by a badfall. There had been a dispute at first, whether they could save himintact, but after hours of the most careful work there was a goodchance. Dr. Langdale was so proud and enthusiastic, giving every onehis due with no narrowness.
Then he said, "Oh, Daffodil, are you really going home?"
"They have sent for me. The winter has gone!" and there was a piquantsmile hovering about her face.
"It has been such a short winter I have not done half the things Iplanned to do. But I am resolved to run away some time in the summer.It is ungrateful not to visit mother. And I do want to see the town,and all the old friends."
"Oh, do come!" There was a joyous light in her eyes, and a sweetnessplayed about her lips.
Yes, he surely thought he would. Then they went on about othermatters. Bartram was not much versed in love indications, butsomething rose within him--as if there should be a higher, stronger,more overwhelming love for _her_.
She would make them talk cheerfully about her going. She said sagelythere was such a thing as wearing out one's welcome, and that now sheshould feel free to come again.
"Next winter," said her guardian. "I think I can get along through thesummer with this thought to sustain me, but I shall be a year older,and perhaps more feeble."
"I strictly forbid either of the consequences;" she laughed withadorable gayety, her eyes alight with fun.
"One would think I was of great consequence," she exclaimed a few dayslater, "by the lamentations my friends make. Or is it a fashion? Itwill make it harder for me to go. If we could move Pittsburg over! Butthere are the splendid rivers, and the hills covered withrhododendrons. And, you see, I shall miss the daffodils."
"If it is such sorrow to part with one, I hardly know how you canendure losing so many," said Aldis Bartram gravely.
She looked at him enquiringly. He seldom paid compliments to any onebut Madame Clerval.
There were bloom and beauty enough in the grand old town, where everypoint was romantic. Every day Daffodil and her guardian were outdriving, until it seemed to her she could have found her way about inthe dark. And in his office Aldis Bartram sat thinking how lonely thehouse would be without the sunshine of her golden head, and the soundof her sweet, merry voice, her small, thoughtful ways, and the easewith which she could change from one mode of action that she saw wasnot bringing about a desirable result. At first he considered this asort of frivolity, but he understood presently that she notinfrequently gave up her own pleasure or method for something thatsuited M. de Ronville better.
He was ambitious, and he had marked out a career for himself. He meantto be rich and respected, his instincts were all honorable, and thishad commended him to his employer, who detested anything bordering ondouble dealing. So, from one position he had been advanced to another,and by persistent study had taken his degree with honor. He enjoyedthe life of the class with which he was in keen touch, and he found hecould maintain a degree of mental superiority that satisfied hisambition.
There had been a partnership; he was junior counsel, and some of theclients preferred the young, broad-minded man. Then had come theproffer of a home that really surprised him. There were no relativesto be jealous; why, then, should he not be as a son to this man, whono longer felt equal to the burthen and heat of the new day that haddawned on the country, and was calling forth the highest aims andenergies of the men of the time?
There had been one intense fascination in his life that had turned tothe ashes of bitterness. And now, while he was affable and enjoyed thesociety of women, he considered himself proof against theirblandishments. He had heard of Daffodil's interrupted marriage, andgave her a very sincere sympathy. But he had not been warmly in favorof her visit. Still, it seemed cruel and selfish not to agree to thelonging of the invalid, who had an obstinate idea that his days werenumbered. A pet and play-thing was perhaps what he needed, forsometimes the devotion exacted bored him and seemed a painful waste oftime and energy.
Then M. de Ronville saw the necessity of arranging his guardianship ofDaffodil Carrick on a different basis, so that there might be notrouble at his death. Her father might not understand all the finepoints, and need some legal aid. This had brought about the visit toPittsburg, and he had joined his solicitation to that of the guardian,truly believing M. de Ronville's days were numbered, and he didfervently desire to give him whatever happiness and comfort waspossible.
But Daffodil was different from the vague idea he had formed of her.She was not a sentimental girl, even if she had been caught by aspecious love, and though gay and eager, had a tender, truthful, andnoble side to her nature. They were all of a higher class than he hadthought possible, and Felix he considered quite an unusual boy. Mr.Carrick had made one brief explanation of the marriage, none of theothers alluded to it.
"But you know that the law holds her as an unmarried woman. There wasnothing binding in the vows on her side, and pure fraud on his," saidBartram decisively.
"Yes, we are aware of that, but young as she is, it has changed her insome respects. But she is dearer than ever to us. I deprecate thisfashion of such youthful marriages, though mine has been very happy,"returned the father.
Dr. Langdale came in one morning with a face full of the highestsatisfaction. Bartram had been lingering about, discussing thejourney. Madame Clerval had offered one of her French maids, but sheknew so little of American ways.
"Daffodil," the doctor exclaimed, "will you take me for an escort? Ifind there is nothing very important for the next few weeks. I havebut one more lecture in my course. And I do want to see mother. So, ifyou have no objection----"
"Why, I should be delighted, though I begin to feel quite like a wiseand travelled body. And think how women are coming from abroad andfrom Canada, and going West, and
all over, and reach their destinationsafely. But I shall be very glad all the same, and your mother will bewild with joy."
"I am afraid we do not think of the pleasure we can give our elders,who, in the nature of things, have less time for the enjoyment oftheir children. And I feel ashamed that I have allowed the time toslip by, content with a hurried letter. I mean to do better in thefuture."
"And I applaud your decision," exclaimed M. de Ronville. "Oh, I thinkyou young people really do not know how much happiness you can give uselders just by the sight of your happy faces, and a little cordialattention."
Daffodil glanced at Dr. Langdale with a smile that seemed almost acaress, it was so approving, enchanting. Aldis Bartram caught it andturned away, saying--
"I must leave you to perfect arrangements. I am late now, so I mustwish you good-morning," bowing himself out of the room.
He was very busy, and did not go home to dinner, as he had been doingof late. And it was not until he was walking home in the lateafternoon that he allowed himself to think of Daffodil's departure.
"She will marry Dr. Langdale and come back here to live, which will bea great pleasure to M. de Ronville," he said to himself, rememberingit had his friend's approval. And why should it not have his? Yet hefelt as if he did not cordially assent. And if she returned nextwinter--he lost a sudden interest in the plan. They would be loversand there would be their joy and satisfaction flaunted in everybody'sface.
How could Daffodil keep so bright and cheerful? Had she any realdepth? Did not every change, every new plan appeal to her just thesame?
But if he had seen her with her arms about Mrs. Jarvis' neck, and thetears in her eyes, he would not have made the comment to himself. Andthe tender, beseeching tone in which she was saying--
"Oh, you will not let him miss me too much. And when it is pleasant,won't you walk about the garden with him and praise his roses and theflowers he cares for? And keep him thinking that he is better, and hasyears yet to live, and if Mr. Bartram will go on being devoted tohim."
"Mr. Bartram seems to have grown more tenderly thoughtful. Of course,he has a great deal on his mind, and now there are so many perplexingquestions about the country, and when one is tired out with the day'swork it is hard to rehearse it all over. Oh, my dear, I think you haveworked a change in us all with your sweet, generous ways, and yourlovely outflowing youth. I am afraid I was beginning to think too muchof my own comfort."
Dr. Langdale proved himself most solicitous. Bartram found theplanning was taken quite out of his hands, and he chafed a little.Madame Clerval declared herself inconsolable, but she had the finegrace that speeds the parting guest when the going is inevitable.
There was only one day more. M. de Ronville had his breakfast sentupstairs. Daffodil went to find some papers her guardian was goingover, and turning, she met Aldis Bartram entering the library.
"I was afraid you might forget them," she said, handing the packet tohim.
"Thank you." How often she had charged her mind with these littlethings.
"I suppose," he began in a wandering sort of tone, as if his mind hadstrayed to something else, "that it will not really be out of order tocongratulate you, since it will be a long while before I shall see youagain."
"Oh, about going home? But I shall often think of you all here, andwish the old fairy stories were true, where you could be transportedelsewhere in a moment. I think I did truly believe in them once."
How charming she was in that absolute simplicity, the exquisite,innocent, glowing face too frank for concealment. He had no businessto probe her secret, and yet he must know.
"Oh, I meant, you will not come back to us the same. You will havelearned the lesson of love, and I hope--you will be very happy."
"I don't understand"--a puzzled line settling in her fair brow. "Oh!"suddenly relieved, and then half smiling, "did you think," and thenher face crimsoned to its utmost capacity, "that I, that Dr.Langdale--it is a mistake. We were dear friends in childhood, we arewarm friends now. For, you see, he has been like a little bit ofPittsburg to me, and sometimes, when I was longing for the dear onesat home, it was comforting to talk them over. And he has no thought ofmarrying in a long, long while. He means to do so much first."
Was she a finished coquette by the grace of nature? Young men were notgiven to consideration of this or that when the bewildering passionseized them. But coquette or not, a sharp, overmastering knowledgeseized him. Once she had advised him to marry and bring in thehousehold a charming girl. She recognized that his duty would be to M.de Ronville while he lived. He knew that, too, if he would not provehimself an ingrate. And here was the charming girl.
He looked at her so long and steadily that there came faint colors inher face, growing deeper, the lines about her mouth showed tremors,the bronze-fringed lids drooped over her eyes, and she turned away.But the delicious half-bashful movement set his pulses aflame.
"Daffodil," and he caught her hand, "if there is no other among theseyoung men, or even at home, may I not sue for a little favor? I knowit surprises you; then perhaps I am too old to win a young girl'sregard, love I mean----"
"Oh, you must not," she interrupted. "For I think you hardly likeme--you did not at first. And then, I--well--I do not mean to marry.You know there was the----"
"Which simply has no weight in your life."
"But you see, I thought I loved him. Oh, I _did_ love him. And I wasso happy. Why, I would have gone to the end of the world with him!Only when one deceives you, when one dares not tell the whole truth,and when one cannot, does not want to give up wealth and station, whatwas love is some way crushed out. But how could I tell if any new lovewas the right thing? I might be mistaken again. And there are ficklewomen in the world I have heard, who can love many times. I don'tdesire to be one of them. Maybe it is only friendship I am fittedfor."
She was trembling in every pulse, though she had made such a bravedefence. And she seemed to him a hundred times sweeter than she everhad before. He had much ado not to clasp her to his heart. "My dearlittle Daffodil," he said with passionate tenderness, "though you havebeen wooed and said marriage vows, you know nothing about a true andfervent love. That was not much beyond a child's fancy, and you haveoverlived it, or you could not be so light-hearted. It is only a dreamin your life. And I will wait until the woman's soul in you wakes. ButI shall not let you go from my influence, I shall keep watch and ward,and try to win you."
"No, no, I am not worth all that trouble. No, do not try," shepleaded.
"I shall take your earlier advice. You said I must marry some charminggirl and bring her here. No other girl or woman could satisfy M. deRonville as well."
"Did I advise you to do that?" and she blushed daintily. "Well," andthere was a glint of mischief in her eyes, soft as they were, "once Iwas offered to you, and you declined."
"Offered to me?" in surprise.
"When I was here before. It was in this very library. I was outside,and when I knew who was meant I ran away."
"Oh, you were such a child then! And I was doing something that I havealways despised myself for. I knew a beautiful and fascinating woman,who led me to believe she cared a great deal for me. And then shelaughed at my folly. I deserved it for my blindness. So you see, I toohad a rude awakening, and found that it was not love, but a mere sham.I believe for a month or so I have been trying _not_ to love you,shutting my eyes to a longing that stirred all my nature. And now thatI have admitted it, it has taken a giant's growth in a few hours. Iwill wait until you can give me the true, sincere regard of your soul.But I could not let you go until I had settled whether I had anyground for hope. Shall we be friends, dear and fond friends, untilthat time? But I want to be loved sincerely, deeply."
She stood like a lovely culprit before him, and then he did enfold herin his arms, and pressed his lips against her blushing cheek.
"Oh, I cannot tell--yes, I like you--and you will be good to _him_while I am gone. But it is new and strange to me, and I cannotpromise."
r /> "But there is no one else--tell me that."
"There is no one else. But whether--I can love again;" and there was agreat tremble in her voice, "whether it would be right."
"Oh, little innocent, you will find the right and the truth some day,I feel assured of that. I can trust you to tell me by word or signwhen that day comes, for I know you will be honest. And now I must go,but I take with me a joy that will make glad the days and weeks ofseparation. Oh, my little darling!"
He went out of the house with a proud tread. He would never pauseuntil he had won her. His soul was startled and roused by the suddenrevelation of himself. He had supposed he should marry sometime, afterhis duty was done here, for he could not imagine a woman broad enoughto share it with him. And here an angel had touched him with her finebeneficence, and shown him the duty in a stronger, truer light.
There was not much time for the ardent side of love, though AldisBartram had to fight with himself for a show of mere friendliness. Shewas to go at ten the next morning, and friends came to escort her.
"And I shall stay and help our good friend to bear the trial ofparting," declared Madame Clerval. "We will talk over your virtues andyour shortcomings, the lovers you might have had if you had been anastute young woman, and try to shed some sunshine on the doleful daysuntil next winter."
There was the maid with some budgets, there was Dr. Langdale, proudand serene enough for a lover, and it did rouse a spasm of jealousy inthe soul of Aldis Bartram. But he knew she was truth itself, and hecould depend upon her.