shining as with gold and pearls, more precious than all thejewels of the earth. In spite of all his efforts, when Thomas Merriamstudied the Scriptures in those days he was more nearly touched bythose old human hearts which throbbed down to his through the ages,welding the memories of their old loves to his living one until theyseemed to prove its eternity, than by the Messianic prophecies. Oftenhe spent hours upon his knees, but arose with Evelina's face beforehis very soul in spite of all.
And as for Evelina, she tended the flowers in the elder Evelina'sgarden with her poor cousin, whose own love-dreams had beenillustrated as it were by the pinks and lilies blooming around themwhen they had all gone out of her heart, and Thomas Merriam'shalf-bold, half-imploring eyes looked up at her out of every flowerand stung her heart like bees. Poor young Evelina feared much lestshe had offended Thomas, and yet her own maiden decorum had beenoffended by him, and she had offended it herself, and she was faintwith shame and distress when she thought of it. How had she been sobold and shameless as to give him that look at the meeting-house? andhow had he been so cruel as to accost her afterwards? She toldherself she had done right for the maintenance of her own maidendignity, and yet she feared lest she had angered him and hurt him."Suppose he had been fretted by her coolness?" she thought, and thena great wave of tender pity went over her heart, and she would almosthave spoken to him of her own accord. But then she would reflect howhe continued to write such beautiful sermons, and prove so clearlyand logically the tenets of the faith; and how could he do that witha mind in distress? Scarcely could she herself tend the flower-bedsas she should, nor set her embroidery stitches finely and evenly, shewas so ill at ease. It must be that Thomas had not given the matteran hour's worry, since he continued to do his work so faithfully andwell. And then her own heart would be sorer than ever with the beliefthat his was happy and at rest, although she would chide herself forit.
And yet this young Evelina was a philosopher and an analyst of humannature in a small way, and she got some slight comfort out of ashrewd suspicion that the heart of a man might love and suffer on asomewhat different principle from the heart of a woman. "It may be,"thought Evelina, sitting idle over her embroidery with far-away blueeyes, "that a man's heart can always turn a while from love to otherthings as weighty and serious, although he be just as fond, while awoman's heart is always fixed one way by loving, and cannot be turnedunless it breaks. And it may be wise," thought young Evelina, "elsehow could the state be maintained and governed, battles forindependence be fought, and even souls be saved, and the gospelcarried to the heathen, if men could not turn from the concerns oftheir own hearts more easily than women? Women should be patient,"thought Evelina, "and consider that if they suffer 't is due to thelot which a wise Providence has given them." And yet tears welled upin her earnest blue eyes and fell over her fair cheeks and wet theembroidery--when the elder Evelina was not looking, as she seldomwas. The elder Evelina was kind to her young cousin, but there weredays when she seemed to dwell alone in her own thoughts, apart fromthe whole world, and she seldom spoke either to Evelina or her oldservant-man.
Young Evelina, trying to atone for her former indiscretion andestablish herself again on her height of maiden reserve in ThomasMerriam's eyes, sat resolutely in the meeting-house of a Sabbath day,with her eyes cast down, and after service she glided swiftly downthe aisle and was out of the door before the young minister couldmuch more than descend the pulpit stairs, unless he ran an indecorousrace.
And young Evelina never at twilight strolled up the road in thedirection of Thomas Merriam's home, where she might quite reasonablyhope to meet him, since he was wont to go to the store when theevening stage-coach came in with the mail from Boston.
Instead she paced the garden paths, or, when there was not too heavya dew, rambled across the fields; and there was also a lane where sheloved to walk. Whether or not Thomas Merriam suspected this, or hadever seen, as he passed the mouth of the lane, the flutter ofmaidenly draperies in the distance, it so happened that one eveninghe also went a-walking there, and met Evelina. He had entered thelane from the highway, and she from the fields at the head. So he sawher first afar off, and could not tell fairly whether her lightmuslin skirt might not be only a white-flowering bush. For, since hisoutlook upon life had been so full of Evelina, he had found thatoften the most common and familiar things would wear for a second alook of her to startle him. And many a time his heart had leaped atthe sight of a white bush ahead stirring softly in the evening wind,and he had thought it might be she. Now he said to himselfimpatiently that this was only another fancy; but soon he saw that itwas indeed Evelina, in a light muslin gown, with a little lacekerchief on her head. His handsome young face was white; his lipstwitched nervously; but he reached out and pulled a spray of whiteflowers from a bush, and swung it airily to hide his agitation as headvanced.
As for Evelina, when she first espied Thomas she started and halfturned, as if to go back; then she held up her white-kerchiefed headwith gentle pride and kept on. When she came up to Thomas she walkedso far to one side that her muslin skirt was in danger of catchingand tearing on the bushes, and she never raised her eyes, and not aflicker of recognition stirred her sweet pale face as she passed him.
But Thomas started as if she had struck him, and dropped his spray ofwhite flowers, and could not help a smothered cry that was half asob, as he went on, knocking blindly against the bushes. He went alittle way, then he stopped and looked back with his piteous hurteyes. And Evelina had stopped also, and she had the spray of whiteflowers which he had dropped, in her hand, and her eyes met his. Thenshe let the flowers fall again, and clapped both her little hands toher face to cover it, and turned to run; but Thomas was at her side,and he put out his hand and held her softly by her white arm.
"Oh," he panted, "I--did not mean to be--too presuming, and offendyou. I--crave your pardon--"
Evelina had recovered herself. She stood with her little handsclasped, and her eyes cast down before him, but not a quiver stirredher pale face, which seemed turned to marble by this last effort ofher maiden pride. "I have nothing to pardon," said she. "It was I,whose bold behavior, unbecoming a modest and well-trained youngwoman, gave rise to what seemed like presumption on your part." Thesense of justice was strong within her, but she made her speechhaughtily and primly, as if she had learned it by rote from somemaiden school-mistress, and pulled her arm away and turned to go; butThomas's words stopped her.
"Not--unbecoming if it came--from the heart," said he, brokenly,scarcely daring to speak, and yet not daring to be silent.
Then Evelina turned on him, with a sudden strange pride that laybeneath all other pride, and was of a nobler and truer sort. "Do youthink I would have given you the look that I did if it had not comefrom my heart?" she demanded. "What did you take me to be--false anda jilt? I may be a forward young woman, who has overstepped thebounds of maidenly decorum, and I shall never get over the shame ofit, but I am truthful, and I am no jilt." The brilliant color flamedout on Evelina's cheeks. Her blue eyes met Thomas's with that courageof innocence and nature which dares all shame. But it was only for asecond; the tears sprang into them. "I beg you to let me go home,"she said, pitifully; but Thomas caught her in his arms, and pressedher troubled maiden face against his breast.
"Oh, I love you so!" he whispered--"I love you so, Evelina, and I wasafraid you were angry with me for it."
"And I was afraid," she faltered, half weeping and half shrinkingfrom him, "lest you were angry with me for betraying the state of myfeelings, when you could not return them." And even then she usedthat gentle formality of expression with which she had been taught byher maiden preceptors to veil decorously her most ardent emotions.And, in truth, her training stood her in good stead in other ways;for she presently commanded, with that mild dignity of hers whichallowed of no remonstrance, that Thomas should take away his arm fromher waist, and give her no more kisses for that time.
"It is not becoming for any one," said she, "and much less for aminister of
the gospel. And as for myself, I know not what MistressPerkins would say to me. She has a mind much above me, I fear."
"Mistress Perkins is enjoying her mind in Boston," said ThomasMerriam, with the laugh of a triumphant young lover.
But Evelina did not laugh. "It might be well for both you and me ifshe were here," said she, seriously. However, she tempered a littleher decorous following of Mistress Perkins's precepts, and she andThomas went hand in hand up the lane and across the fields.
There was no dew that night, and the moon was full. It was after nineo'clock when Thomas left her at the gate in the fence which separatedEvelina Adams's garden from the field, and watched her disappearbetween the flowers. The moon shone full on the garden.