CHAPTER IV.
"Forbear sharp speeches to her. She's a ladySo tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,And strokes death to her."--SHAKSPEARE.
As we have said, the storm lasted for a week; and all that time Edwardand Zoe were slowly drifting farther and farther apart.
But at last the clouds broke and the sun shone out cheerily. It wasabout the middle of the forenoon when this occurred.
"Oh," cried Miss Deane, "do see the sun! Now I shall no longer need toencroach upon your hospitality, my kind entertainers. I can go home bythis afternoon's train, if you, Mr. Travilla, will be so very good as totake or send me to the depot."
"The Ion carriage is quite at your service," he returned politely.
"Thanks," she said; "then I'll just run up to my room, and do my bit ofpacking."
She hurried out to the hall, then the front door was heard to open; andthe next minute a piercing shriek brought master, mistress, and servantsrunning out to the veranda to inquire the cause.
Miss Deane lay there groaning, and crying out "that she had sprained herankle terribly; she had slipped on a bit of ice, and fallen; and oh!when now would she be able to go home?"
The question found an echo in Zoe's heart, and she groaned inwardly atthe thought of having this most unwelcome guest fastened upon her forweeks longer.
Yet she pitied her pain, and was anxious to do what she could for herrelief. She hastened to the medicine-closet in search of remedies; whileEdward and Uncle Ben gently lifted the sufferer, carried her in, andlaid her on the sofa.
Also a messenger was at once despatched for Dr. Conly. Zoe stationedherself at a front window of the drawing-room to watch for his coming.Presently Edward came to her side. "Zoe," he said, "can't you go to MissDeane?"
"What for?" she asked, without turning her head to look at him.
"To show your kind feeling."
"I'm not sure that I have any."
"Zoe! I am shocked! She is in great pain."
"She has plenty of helpers about her,--Christine, Aunt Dicey, and aservant-maid or two,--who will do all they can to relieve her. If Icould do any thing more, I would; but I can't, and should only be in theway. You forget what a mere child you have always considered me, andthat I have had no experience in nursing."
"It isn't nursing, I am asking you to give her, but a little kindlysympathy."
A carriage was coming swiftly up the avenue.
"There's the doctor," said Zoe. "You'd better consult with him about hispatient; and, if he thinks my presence in her room will hasten herrecovery, she shall have all I can give her of it, that we may get herout of the house as soon as possible."
"Zoe! I had no idea you could be so heartless," he said, with muchdispleasure, as he turned and left the room.
Zoe remained where she was, shedding some tears of mingled anger andgrief, then hastily endeavoring to remove their traces; for Arthur wouldbe sure to step into the parlor, to see her before leaving, if it werebut for a moment.
She had barely recovered her composure when he came in, having found hispatient not in need of a lengthened visit.
His face was bright, his tone cheery and kind, as he bade hergood-morning, and asked after her health.
"I'm very well, thank you," she said, giving him her hand. "Is MissDeane's accident a very bad one?"
"It is a severe sprain," he said: "she will not be able to bear herweight upon that ankle for six weeks." Then seeing Zoe's look of dismay,shrewdly guessing at the cause, he hastened to add, "But she might besent home in an ambulance a few days hence, without the least injury."
Zoe looked greatly relieved, Edward scarcely less so.
"I can't understand how she came to fall," remarked Arthur reflectively.
"Nor I," said Zoe. "Wouldn't it be well for you to advise her never toset foot on that dangerous veranda again?"
Arthur smiled. "That would be a waste of breath," he said, "while Ion isso delightful a place to visit."
"How are they all at Viamede?" he asked, turning to Edward.
"Quite well at last accounts, thank you," Edward replied, adding, with aslight sigh, "I wish they were here,--my mother at least, if none of theothers."
Zoe colored violently. "Cousin Arthur, do you think I am needed in yourpatient's room?" she asked.
"Only to cheer and amuse her with your pleasant society," he answered.
"She would find neither pleasure nor amusement in my society," said Zoe;"and hers is most distasteful to me."
"That's a pity," said Arthur, with a look of concern. "Suppose I lendyou Ella for a few days? She, I think, would rather enjoy taking theentertainment of your guest off your hands."
"Oh, thank you!" said Zoe, brightening; "that would be a relief: and,besides, I should enjoy Ella myself, between times, and after Miss Deanegoes home."
"Please tell Ella we will both be greatly obliged if she will come,"Edward said.
"I'll do so," said Arthur, rising to go; "but I have a long drive totake, in another direction, before returning to Roselands. And you mustremember," he added with a smile, "that I lend her for only a few days.Cal and I wouldn't know how to do without her very long."
With that, he took his departure, leaving Edward and Zoe alone together.
"I am sorry, Zoe, that you thought it necessary to let Arthur into thesecret of the mutual dislike between Miss Deane and yourself," remarkedEdward, in a grave, reproving tone.
Zoe colored angrily. "I don't care who knows it," she retorted, with alittle toss of her head. "I did not think it _necessary_ to let Arthurinto the secret, as you call it (I don't consider it one), but neitherdid I see any objection to his knowing about it."
"Then, let me request you to say no more on the subject to any one," hesaid, with vexation.
"I sha'n't promise," she muttered, half under her breath. But he heardit.
"Very well, then, I forbid it; and you have promised to obey me."
"And you promised that it should always be love and coaxing," she said,in tones trembling with pain and passion. "I'll have to tell Ellasomething about it."
"Then, say only what is quite necessary," he returned, his tonessoftening.
Then, after a moment's silence, in which Zoe's face was turned from himso that he could not see its expression, "Won't you go now, and ask ifMiss Deane is any easier? Surely, as her hostess, you should do somuch."
"No, I won't! I'll do all I can to make her comfortable; I'll provideher with society more agreeable to her than mine; I'll see that she hasinteresting reading-matter, if she wants it; I'll do any thing and everything I can, except that; but you needn't ask that of me."
"O Zoe! I had thought you would do a harder thing than that at myrequest," he said reproachfully.
Ignoring his remark, she went on, "I just believe she fell and hurtherself purposely, that she might have an excuse for prolonging hervisit, and continuing to torment me."
"Zoe, Zoe, how shockingly uncharitable you are!" he exclaimed. "I couldnever have believed it of you! We are told, 'Charity thinketh no evil.'Do try not to judge so harshly."
He left the room; and Zoe indulged in a hearty cry, but hastily driedher eyes, and turned her back toward the door, as she heard his stepapproaching again.
He just looked in, saying, "Zoe, I am going to drive over to Roselandsfor Ella: will you go along?"
"No. I've been lectured enough for one day," was her ungraciousrejoinder; and he closed the door, and went away.
He was dumb with astonishment and pain. "What has come over her?" heasked himself. "She has always before been so delighted to go any andevery where with me. Have I been too ready to reprove her of late? Ihave thought myself rather forbearing, considering how much ill-tempershe has shown. She has had provocation, to be sure; but it is high timeshe learned to exercise some self-control. Yet perhaps I should havebeen more sympathizing, more forbearing and affectionate."
He had stepped into his carriage, and was driving down the avenue. Hepassed through the great gates, and
turned into the road, still thinkingof Zoe, and mentally reviewing their behavior toward each other sincethe unfortunate day in which Miss Deane had crossed their threshold.
The conclusion he presently arrived at was, that he had not beenaltogether blameless; that, if his reproofs had been given in moreloving fashion, they would have been received in a better spirit; thathe had not been faithful to his promise always to try "love and coaxing"with the impulsive, sensitive child-wife, who, he doubted not, loved himwith her whole heart; and, once convinced of that, he determined to sayso on his return, and make it up with her.
True, it seemed to him that she ought to make the first advances towardan adjustment of their slight differences (quarrels they could scarcelybe called; a slight coldness, a cessation of accustomed manifestationsof conjugal affection, a few sharp or impatient words on each side), buthe would be too generous to wait for that; he loved her dearly enough tosacrifice his pride to some extent; he could better afford that than thesight of her unhappiness.
In the mean time Zoe was bitterly repenting of the rebuff she had givenhim. He had hardly closed the door when she started up, and ran to it tocall him back, apologize for her curt refusal to go with him, and ask ifshe might still accept his invitation. But it was too late: he wasalready beyond hearing.
She could not refrain from another cry, and was very angry with herselffor her petulance. She regretted the loss of the drive, too, which wouldhave been a real treat after the week of confinement to the house.
She had refused to comply with her husband's request that she would goto Miss Deane and ask how she was: now she repented, and went as soon asshe had removed the traces of her tears.
"Ah! you have come at last!" was the salutation she received on enteringthe room where Miss Deane lay on a sofa, with the injured limb proppedupon pillows. "I began to fear," sweetly, "that your delicate nerves hadgiven way under the sight of my sufferings."
"My nerves are not delicate," returned Zoe coldly; "in fact, I neverdiscovered that I had any; so please do not trouble yourself withanxiety on that account. I trust the applications have relieved yousomewhat."
"Very little, thank you. I suppose it was hardly to be expected thatthey would take effect so soon. Ah, me!" she added with a profound sigh,"I fear I am tied to this couch for weeks."
"No; do not disturb yourself with that idea," said Zoe. "The doctor toldme you could easily be taken home in a few days in an ambulance."
"I shall certainly avail myself of the first opportunity to do so," saidMiss Deane, her eyes flashing with anger, "for I plainly perceive that Ihave worn out my welcome."
"No, not at all," said Zoe; "at least, not so far as I am concerned."Miss Deane looked her incredulity and surprise, and Zoe explained,--"Ithink I may as well be perfectly frank with you," she said. "You havenot worn out your welcome with me, because I had none for you when youcame. How could I, knowing that you invariably make trouble between myhusband and myself?"
"Truly, a polite speech to make to a guest!" sniffled Miss Deane. "Ihope you pride yourself on your very polished manners."
"I prefer truth and sincerity." said Zoe, "I shall do all I can to makeyou comfortable while you are here; and, if you choose to avoid the lineof conduct I have objected to, we may learn to like each other. I verywell know that you do not love me now."
"Since frankness is in fashion at this moment," was the contemptuousretort, "I will own that there is no love lost between us. Stay," as Zoewas about to leave the room, "let me give you a piece of disinterestedadvice. Learn to control your quick temper, and show yourself moreamiable, or you may find one of these days, when it is too late, thatyou have lost your husband's heart."
At that, Zoe turned away, and went swiftly from the room. She was beyondspeaking, her whole frame quivering from head to foot with the agitationof her feelings.
Lose the love of her idolized husband? That would be worse than death.But it should never be: he loved her dearly now (it could not bepossible that these last few wretched days had robbed her quite of thedevoted affection she had known beyond a doubt to be hers before); andshe would tell him, as soon as he came in, how sorry she was for theconduct that had vexed him, and never, no, never again, would she do orsay any thing to displease him, or lower herself in his estimation.
As she thought thus, hurrying down the hall, she caught the sound ofwheels on the drive, and ran out, expecting to see him, as it was abouttime for his return from Roselands.
It was the Ion carriage she had heard, but only Ella Conly alighted fromit.
They exchanged greetings, then Zoe asked half breathlessly, "Where'sEdward?"
"Gone," Ella responded, moving on into the hall. "Come, let's go intothe parlor, and sit down, and I'll tell you all I know about it. Why,Zoe," as she turned and caught sight of her companion's face, "you areas pale as death, and look ready to faint! There's nothing to be scaredabout, and you mustn't mind my nonsense."
"Oh, tell me! tell me quickly!" gasped Zoe, sinking into a chair, herhands clasped beseechingly, her eyes wild with terror: "what, what hashappened?"
"Nothing, child, nothing, except that we met cousin Horace on our wayhere, and he carried Ned off to Union. They had to hurry to catch atrain, in order to be in time for some business matter in the city, Ididn't understand what: so Ned couldn't wait to write the least bit of anote to tell you about it; and he told me to explain every thing to you,and say you were not to fret or worry, not even if he shouldn't get hometo-night; for he might not be able to finish up the business in time foreven the last train that would bring him."
The color had come back to Zoe's cheek, but her countenance was stilldistressed; and as Ella concluded, two scalding tears rolled quicklydown her face, and plashed upon the small white hands lying clasped inher lap.
"Dear me!" said Ella, "how fond you are of him!"
"Yes," said Zoe, with a not very successful effort to smile through hertears: "who wouldn't be, in my place? I owe every thing to Ned, and hepets and indulges me to the greatest extent. Besides, he is so good,noble, and true, that any woman might be proud to be his wife."
"Yes: I admit every word of it; but all that doesn't explain yourtears," returned Ella, half sympathizingly, half teasingly. "Now, Ishould have supposed that anybody who could boast of such a piece ofperfection for a husband would be very happy."
"But I--we've hardly ever been separated over night," stammered Zoe,blushing rosy red; "and--and--O Ella! I hadn't a chance to say good-byto him, and--and you know accidents so often happen"--
She broke down with a burst of tears and sobs that quite dismayed hercousin.
"Why, Zoe, I'm afraid you cannot be well," she said. "Come, cheer up,and don't borrow trouble."
"I'm afraid I'm very silly, and have been making you veryuncomfortable," said Zoe, hastily wiping away her tears, "and it's agreat shame; particularly, considering that you have kindly come onpurpose to help me through with a disagreeable task.
"I'll show you to your room now, if you like," she added, rising, "andtry to behave myself better during the rest of your visit."
"Apologies are quite uncalled for," returned Ella lightly, as they wentup-stairs together. "I have always had a good time at Ion, and don'tbelieve this is going to be an exception to the general rule. But do youknow," lowering her voice a little, "I don't propose to spend nearly allmy time with that hateful Miss Deane. I never could bear her."
"Then, how good it was in you to come!" exclaimed Zoe gratefully. "But Ishould never have asked it of you, if I had thought you disliked her aswell as I."
They were now in the room Ella was to occupy, and she was taking off herhat and cloak. "Oh, never mind! I was delighted to come anyhow," sheanswered gayly, as she threw aside the latter garment, and tookpossession of an easy-chair beside the open fire. "To tell you asecret," she went on laughingly, "I like my cousins Ned and Zoe Travillaimmensely, and am always glad of an excuse to pay them a visit. But thatMiss Deane,--oh! she's just _too sweet_ for _any thing!_" makin
g agrimace expressive of disgust and aversion, "and a consummate,incorrigible flirt: any one of the male sex can be made to serve herturn, from a boy of sixteen to a man of seventy-five."
"I think you are correct about that," said Zoe. "And, do you know, sheis forever making covert sneers at my youth; and it's perfectlyexasperating to me."
"Sour grapes," laughed Ella. "I wouldn't let it vex me in the least:it's all to hide her envy of you, because you are really young, andmarried too. I know very well she's dreadfully afraid of being called anold maid."
"I suspected as much," Zoe remarked. "But don't you think gentlemen aremore apt to be pleased with her than ladies?"
"Yes: they don't see through her as her own sex do. And she is handsome,and certainly a brilliant talker. I'd give a good deal forconversational powers equal to hers."
"So would I," Zoe said, with an involuntary sigh.
Ella gave her a keen, inquiring look; and Zoe flushed hotly under it.
"Shall we go down now?" she asked. "It is nearly dinner-time; and weshall have to dine alone unless some one drops in unexpectedly," sheadded, as they left the room together, and passed down the stairs, armin arm.
"If Arthur should, wouldn't it be a trial to Miss Deane to have to dinein her own room?" exclaimed Ella, with a gleeful laugh.
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Zoe, opening her eyes wide with surprise.
"That she would not have the slightest objection to becoming Mrs. Dr.Conly."
"But you don't think there's any danger?" queried Zoe, by no meanspleased with the idea of having the lady in question made a member ofthe family connection.
"No, and I certainly hope not. It wouldn't be I that would want to callher sister," returned Ella emphatically.
"I should think Art had sufficient penetration to see through her," saidZoe. "But no; on second thoughts, I'm not so sure; for Ned will have itthat it's more than half my imagination when I say she sneers at me."
"That's too bad," said Ella. "But Art is older than Ned by some years,and has probably had more opportunity to study character."
"Yes," replied Zoe, speaking with some hesitation, not liking to admitthat any one was wiser than her husband, little as she was inclined toown herself in the wrong when he differed from her.