CHAPTER III
HYDE AND ARENTA
Seldom is Love ushered into any life with any pomp of circumstance orceremony; there is no overture to our opera, no prologue to our play,and the most momentous meetings occur as if by mere accident. A frienddelayed Cornelia a while on the street; and turning, she met Hyde faceto face; a moment more, or less, and the meeting had not been. Ah, butsome Power had set that moment for their meeting, and the delay hadbeen intended, and the consequences foreseen!
In a dim kind of way Hyde realized this fact as he sat the next daywith an open book before him. He was not reading it; he was thinking ofCornelia--of her pure, fresh beauty; and of that adorable air ofreserve, which enhanced, even while it veiled her charms. "For her loveI could resign all adventures and prison myself in a law book," hesaid, "I could forget all other beauties; in a word, I could marry, andlive in the country. Oh how exquisite she is! I lose my speech when Ithink of her!"
Then he closed his book with impatience, and went to Prince's andbought a little rush basket filled with sweet violets. Into their midsthe slipped his visiting card, and saw the boy on his way with theflowers to Cornelia ere he was satisfied they would reach her quicklyenough. This finished, he began to consider what he should do with hisday. Study was impossible; and he could think of nothing that waspossible. "It is the most miserable thing," he muttered, "to be inlove, unless you can go to the adored one, every hour, and tell herso,"--then turning aimlessly into Pearl Street, he saw Cornelia.
She was dressed only in a little morning gown of Indian chintz, but insuch simple toilet had still more distinctively that air of youthfulmodesty which he had found so charmingly tantalizing. He hasted to herside. He blessed his good angel for sending him such an enchantingsurprise. He said the most extravagant things, in the most truthfulmanner, as he watched the blushes of pleasure come and go on her lovelyface, and saw by glimpses, under the veiling eyelids, that tender lightthat never was on sea or land, but only on a woman's face when her soulis awakening to Love.
Cornelia was going to the "Universal Store" of Gerardus Duyckinck, andHyde begged to go with her. He said he was used to shopping; that healways went with his mother, and with Lady Christina Griffin, and Mrs.White, and many others; that he had good taste, and could tell thevalue of laces, and knew how to choose a piece of silk, or match thecrewels for her embroidery; and, indeed, pleaded his case so merrily,that there was no refusing his offer. And how it happened lovers cantell, but after the shopping was finished they found themselves walkingtowards the Battery with the fresh sea wind, and the bright sunshineand the joy of each other's presence all around them.
"Such a miraculous piece of happiness!" the young fellow ejaculated;and his joy was so evident that Cornelia could not bear to spoil itwith any reluctances, or with half-way graciousness. She fell into hisjoyous mood, and as star to star vibrates light, so his soul touchedher soul, through some finer element than ordinary life is consciousof. A delightsome gladness was between them, and their words had suchheart gaiety, that they seemed to dance as they spoke; while the windblowing Cornelia's curls, and scarf, and drapery, was like a merryplayfellow.
Now Love has always something in it of the sea; and the murmur of thetide against the pier, the hoarse voices of the sailor men, the scentof the salt water, and all the occult unrecognized, but keenly feltlife of the ocean, were ministers to their love, and forever and everblended in the heart and memory of the youth and maid who had set theirearly dream of each other to its potent witchery. Time went swiftly,and suddenly Cornelia remembered that she was subject to hours andminutes, A little fear came into her heart, and closed it, and shesaid, with a troubled air, "My mother will be anxious. I had forgotten.I must go home." So they turned northward again, and Cornelia wassilent, and the ardour of her lover was a little chilled; but yet neverbefore had Cornelia heard simple conversation which seemed so eloquent,and so full of meanings--only, now and then, a few brief words; but oh!what long, long thoughts, they carried with them!
At the gates of her home they stood a moment, and there Hyde touchedher hand, and said, "I have never, in all my life, been so happy. Ithas been a walk beyond hope, and beyond expression!" And she lifted herface, and the smile on her lips and the light in her eyes answered him.Then the great white door shut her from his sight, and he walkedrapidly away, saying to his impetuous steps--
"An enchanting creature! An adorable girl! I have given her my heart;and lost, is lost; and gone, is gone forever. That I am sure of. But,by St. George! every man has his fate, and I rejoice that mine is sosweet and fair! so sweet! so sweet! so fair!"
Cornelia trembled as she opened the parlour door, she feared to lookinto her mother's face, but it was as serene as usual, and she met herdaughter's glance with one of infinite affection and some littleexpectancy. This was a critical moment, and Cornelia hesitatedslightly. Some little false sprite put a ready excuse into her heart,but she banished it at once, and with the courage of one who fears lestthey are not truthful enough, she said with a blunt directness whichput all subterfuge out of the question--
"Mother, I have been a long time, but I met Lieutenant Hyde, and wewalked down to the Battery; and I think I have stayed beyond the hour Iought to have stayed--but the weather was so delightful."
"The weather is very delightful, and Lieutenant Hyde is very polite.Did he speak of the violets he sent you?"
"I suppose he forgot them. Ah, there they are! How beautiful! Howfragrant! I will give them to you, mother."
"They are your own, my dear. I would not give them away."
Then Cornelia lifted them, and shyly buried her face in their beautyand sweetness; and afterwards took the card in her hand and read"Lieutenant George Hyde." "But, mother," she said, "Arenta called himJoris."
"Joris is George, my dear."
"Certainly, I had forgotten. Joris is the Dutch, George is the Englishform. I think I like George better."
"As you have neither right nor occasion to call him by either name, itis of no consequence Take away your flowers and put them in water--theyoung man is very extravagant, I think. Do you know that it is quitenoon, and your father will be home in a little while?"
And there was such kind intent, such a divining sympathy in the simplewords, that Cornelia's heart grew warm with pleasure; and she felt thather mother understood, and did not much blame her. At the same time shewas glad to escape all questioning, and with the violets pressed to herheart, and her shining eyes dropped to them, she went with some hasteto her room. There she kissed the flowers, one by one, as she put themin the refreshing water; and then, forgetting all else, sat down andpermitted herself to enter the delicious land of Reverie. She let thethought of Hyde repossess her; and present again and again to herimagination his form, his face, his voice, and those long caressinglooks she had seen and felt, without seeming to be aware of them.
A short time after Cornelia came home, Doctor Moran returned from hisprofessional visits. As he entered the room, his wife looked at himwith a curious interest. In the first place, the tenor of her thoughtsled her to this observation. She wished to assure herself again thatthe man for whom she had given up everything previously dear to her wasworthy of such sacrifice. A momentary glance satisfied her. Nature hadleft the impress of her nobility on his finely-formed forehead; nothingbut truth and kindness looked from his candid eyes; and his manner, ifa little dogmatic, had also an unmistakable air of that distinctionwhich comes from long and honourable ancestry and a recognizedposition. He had also this morning an air of unusual solemnity, and onentering the room, he drew his wife close to his heart and kissed heraffectionately, a token of love he was not apt to give without thought,or under every circumstance.
"You are a little earlier to day," she said. "I am glad of it."
"I have had a morning full of feeling. There is no familiarity withDeath, however often you meet him."
"And you have met Death this morning, I see that, John?"
"As soon as I went out, I heard
of the death of Franklin. We have trulybeen expecting the news, but who can prepare for the final 'He isgone.' Congress will wear mourning for two months, I hear, and all goodcitizens who can possibly do so will follow their example. The flagsare at half-mast, and there is sorrow everywhere."
"And yet, John, why?" asked Mrs. Moran. "Franklin has quite finishedhis work; and has also seen the fruit of all his labours. Not many menare so happy. I, for one, shall rejoice with him, and not weep for him."
"You are right, Ava. I must now tell you that Elder Semple died thismorning. He has been long sick, but the end came suddenly at last."
"The dear old man! He has been sick and sorrowful, ever since his wifedied. Were any of his sons present?"
"None of them. The two eldest have been long away. Neil was obliged toleave New York when the Act forbidding Tory lawyers to practice waspassed. But he was not quite alone, his old friend Joris Van Heemskirkwas with him to the last moment. The love of these old men for eachother was a very beautiful thing."
"He was once rich. Did he lose everything in the war?"
"Very near all. His home was saved by Van Heemskirk, and he had alittle money 'enough to die wi'' he said one day to me; and then hecontinued, 'there's compensations, Doctor, in having naething to leave.My lads will find no bone to quarrel over.' I met a messenger comingfor me this morning, and when I went to his bedside, he said, with apleasant smile, 'I'll be awa' in an hour or twa now, Doctor; and thenI'll hae no mair worrying anent rebellion and democrats; I'll be underthe dominion o' the King o' kings and His throned Powers andPrincipalities; and after a' this weary voting, and confiscations, andguillotining, it will be Peace--Peace--Peace:'--and with that word onhis lips, the 'flitting' as he called it was accomplished."
"There is nothing to mourn in such a death, John."
"Indeed, no. It was just as he said 'a flitting.' And it was strangethat, standing watching what he so fitly called the 'flitting,' Ithought of some lines I have not consciously remembered for many years.They reflect only the old Greek spirit, with its calm acceptance ofdeath and its untroubled resignation, but they seemed to me veryapplicable to the elder's departure:
Not otherwise to the hall of Hades dim He fares, than if some summer eventide A Message, not unlooked for, came to him; Bidding him rise up presently, and ride Some few hours' journey, to a friendly home."
"There is nothing to fear in such a death."
"Nothing at all. Last week when Cornelia and I passed his house, he wasleaning on the garden gate, and he spoke pleasantly to her and told hershe was a 'bonnie lassie.' Where is Cornelia?"
"In her room. John, she went to Duyckinck's this morning for me, andGeorge Hyde met her again, and they took a walk together on theBattery. It was near the noon hour when she returned."
"She told you about it?"
"Oh yes, and without inquiry."
"Very good. I must look after that young fellow." But he said the wordswithout much care, and Mrs. Moran was not satisfied.
"Then you do not disapprove the meeting, John?" she asked.
"Yes, I do. I disapprove of any young man meeting my daughter everytime she goes out. Cornelia is too young for lovers, and it is notdesirable that she should have attentions from young men who have nointentions. I do not want her to be what is called a belle. Certainlynot."
"But the young men do not think her too young to be loved. I can seethat Rem Van Ariens is very fond of her."
"Rem is a very fine young man. If Cornelia was old enough to marry, Ishould make no objections to Rem. He has some money. He promises to bea good lawyer. I like the family. It is as pure Dutch as any in thecountry. There is no objection to Rem Van Ariens."
"And George Hyde?"
"Has too many objectionable qualities to be worth considering."
"Such as?"
"Well, Ava, I will only name one, and one for which he is notresponsible; but yet it would be insuperable, as far as I am concerned.His father is an Englishman of the most pronounced type, and this youngman is quite like him. I want no Englishman in my family."
"My family are of English descent."
"Thoroughly Americanized. They are longer in this country than theWashingtons."
"There have been many Dutch marriages among the Morans."
"That is a different thing. The Dutch, as a race, have every desirablequality. The English are natural despots. Rem was quite right lastnight. I saw and felt, as much as he did, the quiet but sovereignarrogance of young Hyde. His calm assumption of superiority was inreality insufferable. The young man's faults are racial; they are inthe blood. Cornelia shall not have anything to do with him. Why do youspeak of such disagreeable things, Ava?"
"It is well to look forward, John."
"No. It is time enough to meet annoyances when they arrive. But this isone not even to be thought of--to tell the last truth, Ava, I dislikehis father, General Hyde, very much indeed."
"Why?"
"I cannot tell you 'why.' Yes, I will be honest and acknowledge that healways gives me a sense of hostility. He arrogates himself too much.When I was in the army, a good many were angry at General Washington,for making so close a friend of him--but Washington has much of thesame exclusive air. I hope it is no treason to say that much, for agood deal of dignity is permissible, even peremptory, when a man fillsgreat positions. As for the Hydes, father and son, I would prefer tohear no more about them. When the youth was my guest, I was civil tohim; but Arenta. You know that I have never seen her."
"That is the truth. I had forgotten. Well, then, I went to her with thenews; and she rubbed her chin, and called to her man Govert, to get abow of crape and put it on the front door. 'It is moral, and proper,and respectable, Arenta,' she said, 'and I advise you to do the same.'But then she laughed and added, 'Shall I tell you, niece, what I thinkof the great men I have met? They are disagreeable, conceitedcreatures; and ought, all of them, to have died before they were born;and for my part, I am satisfied not to have had the fate to marry oneof them. As for Benjamin Franklin,' she continued, 'he was aparticularly great man, and I am particularly grateful that I never sawhim but once. I formed my opinion of him then; for I only need to see aperson once, to form an opinion--and he is dead! Well, then, every onedies at their own time.'"
"My father says Congress goes into mourning for him."
"Does it?" asked Arenta, with indifference. "Aunt was beginning to tellme something about him when he was in France, but I just put a stop totalk like that, and said, 'Now, aunt, for a little of my own affairs.'So I told her about George Berckel, and asked her if she thought Imight marry George; and she answered, 'If you are tired of easy days,Arenta, go, and take a husband,' After a while I spoke to her aboutLieutenant Hyde, and she said, 'she had seen the little cockrelstrutting about Pearl Street.'"
"That was not a proper thing to say. Lieutenant Hyde carries himself inthe most distinguished manner."
"Well, then, that is exactly so; but Aunt Angelica has her own way ofsaying things. She intended nothing unkind or disrespectful. She toldme that she had frequently danced with his father when she was a girland a beauty; and she added with a laugh, 'I can assure you, Arenta,that in those days he was no saint; although he is now, I hear, thevery pink of propriety.'"
"Is not that as it should be, Arenta? We ought surely to grow better aswe grow older."
"That is not to be denied, Cornelia. Now I can tell you something worthhearing about General Hyde."
"If it is anything wrong, or unkind, I will not listen to it, Arenta.Have you forgotten that the good Sisters always forbid us to listen toan evil report?"
"Then one must shut one's ears if one lives in New York. But, indeed,it is nothing wrong--only something romantic and delightful, and quiteas good as a story book. Shall I tell you?"
"As you wish."
"As you wish."
"Then I would like to hear it."
"Listen! When Madame Hyde was Katherine Van Heemskirk, and younger thanyou are, she had two lovers; one,
Captain Dick Hyde, and the other ayoung man called Neil Semple; and they fought a duel about her, andnearly cut each other to pieces."
"Arenta!"
"Oh, it is the truth! It is the very truth, I assure you! And whileHyde still lay between life and death, Miss Van Heemskirk married him;and as soon as he was able, he carried her off at midnight to England;and there they lived in a fine old house until the war. Then they cameback to New York, and Hyde went into the Continental army and did greatthings, I suppose, for as we all knew, he was made a general. Youshould have heard Aunt Angelica tell the story. She remembered thewhole affair. It was a delightful story to listen to, as we drank ourchocolate. And will you please only try to imagine it of Mrs. GeneralHyde! A woman so lofty! So calm! So afar off from every improprietythat you always feel it impossible in her presence to commit the leastbit of innocent folly. Will you imagine her as Katherine Van Heemskirkin a short, quilted petticoat, with her hair hanging in two braids downher back, running away at midnight with General Hyde!"
"He was her husband. She committed no fault."
"I was thinking of the quilted petticoat, and the two braids; for whonow dresses so extravagantly and so magnificently as Madame Hyde? Shehas an Indian shawl that cost two hundred pounds. Aunt Angelica saysJohn Embree told her 'THAT much at the very least'--and as for theGeneral! is there any man in New York so proud, and so full ofdignity--and morality? He is in St. Paul's Chapel every Sunday, andwhen you see him there, how could you imagine that he had foughthalf-a-dozen duels, for half-a-dozen beauties?"
"Half-a-dozen duels! Oh, Arenta!"
"About that number--more or less--before and after the Van Heemskirkincident. Look at him next Sunday, and then try and believe that he wasthe topmost leader in all the fashionable follies, until he went to thewar. People say it is General Washington--"
"General Washington?"
"That has changed him so much. They have been a great deal together,and I do believe the proprieties are catching. If evil is to be takenin bad company, why not good in the presence of all that is moral andrespectable? At any rate, who is now more proper than General Hyde?Indeed, as Aunt Angelica says, we must all pay our respects to theHydes, if we desire our own caps to set straight. Cornelia, shall Itell you why you are working so close to the window this afternoon?"
"You are going to say something I would rather not hear, Arenta."
"Truth is wholesome, if not agreeable; and the truth is, you expectLieutenant Hyde to pass. But he will not do so. I saw him booted andspurred, on a swift horse, going up the river road. He was bound forHyde Manor, I am sure. Now, Cornelia, you need not move your frame; forno one will disturb you, and I wish to tell you some of my affairs."
"About your lovers?"
"Yes. I have met a certain French marquis, who is attached to the Countde Moustier's embassy. I met him at intervals all last winter, andto-day, I have a love letter from him--a real love letter--and hedesires to ask my father for my hand. I shall now have something to sayto Madame Kippon."
"But you would not marry a Frenchman? That is an impossible thought,Arenta."
"No more so than an Englishman. In fact, Englishmen are not to bethought of at all; while Frenchmen are the fashion. Just consider thedrawing-rooms of our great American ladies; they are full of Frenchnobles."
"But they are exiles, for the most part very poor, and devoted to theidea of monarchy."
"Ah, but my Frenchman is different. He is rich, he is in the confidenceof the present French government, and he adores republican principles.Indeed he wore at Lady Griffin's, last week, his red cap of Liberty,and looked quite distinguished in it."
"I am astonished that Lady Griffin permitted such a spectacle. I amsure it was a vulgar thing to do. Only the san-culottes, make suchexhibition of their private feelings."
"I think it was a very brave thing to do--and Lady Griffin, with herEnglish prejudices and aristocratic notions, had to tolerate it. He isvery tall and dark, and he was dressed in scarlet, with a long blacksatin vest; and you may believe that the scarlet cap on his blackcurling hair was very imposing."
"Imposing! How could it possibly be that? It is only associated withmobs, and mob law--and guillotining."
"I shall not contradict you--though I could do so easily. I will say,then, that it was very picturesque. He asked me to dance a minuet withhim, and when I did not refuse he was beside himself with pleasure andgratitude. And after I had opened the way, several of the best ladiesin the town followed. After all, it was a matter of political opinion;and it is against our American ideas to send any man to Jersey for hispolitics. Mr. Jefferson was in red also."
"I wish to dance with Mr. Jefferson, but I now think of waiting till hegets a new suit."
"I am sure that no one ever made a finer figure in a dance than I, inmy white satin and pearls, and the Marquis Athanase de Tounnerre in hisscarlet dress and Liberty cap. Every one regarded us. He tells me,to-day, that the emotion I raised in his soul that hour has not beenstilled for a moment."
"Have you thought of your father? He would never consent to such amarriage--and what will Rem say?"
"My father will storm, and speak words he should not speak; but I amnot afraid of words. Rem is more to be dreaded. He will not talk hisanger away. Yes, I should be afraid of Rem."
"But you have not really decided to accept the Marquis Tounnerre?"
"No. I have not quite decided. I like to stand between Yes and No. Ilike to be entreated to marry, and then again, to be entreated NOT tomarry. I like to hesitate between the French and the Dutch. I am not inthe least sure on which side I shall finally range myself."
"Then do not decide in a hurry."
"Have I not told you I like to waver, and vacillate, and oscillate, andmake scruples? These are things a woman can do, both with privilege andinclination. I think myself to be very clever in such ways."
"I would not care, nor dare, to venture--"
"You are a very baby yet. I am two years older than you. But indeed youare progressing with some rapidity. What about George Hyde?"
"You said he had gone out of town."
"And I am glad of it. He will not now be insinuating himself withviolets, and compelling you to take walks with him on the Battery. Oh,Cornelia! you see I am not to be put out of your confidence. Why didyou not tell me?"
"You have given me no opportunity; and, as you know all, why should Isay any more about it?"
"Cornelia, my dear companion, I fear you are inclined to concealmentand to reticence, qualities a young girl should not cultivate--I am nowspeaking for dear Sister Maria Beroth--and I hope you will carefullyconsider the advantages you will derive from cultivating a more opendisposition."
"You are making a mockery of the good Sisters; and I do not wish tohear you commit such a great fault. Indeed, I would be pleased toreturn to their peaceful care again."
"And wear the little linen cap and collar, and all the othersimplicities? Cornelia! Cornelia! You are as fond as I am of Frenchfashions and fripperies. Let us be honest, if we die for it. And youmay as well tell me all your little coquetries with George Hyde; for Ishall be sure to find them out. Now I am going home; for I must lookafter the tea-table. But you will not be sorry, for it will leave youfree to think of--"
"Please, Arenta!"
"Very well. I will have 'considerations.' Good-bye!"
Then the door closed, and Cornelia was left alone. But the atmosphereof the room was charged with Arenta's unrest, and a feeling ofdisappointment was added to it. She suddenly realized that her lover'sabsence from the city left a great vacancy. What were all the thousandsin its streets, if he was not there? She might now indeed remove herframe from the window; if Hyde was an impossibility, there was no oneelse she wished to see pass. And her heart told her the report was atrue one; she did not doubt for a moment Arenta's supposition, that hehad gone to Hyde Manor. But the thought made her lonely. Something, sheknew not what, had altered her life. She had a new strange happiness,new hopes, new fears and new wi
shes; but they were not an unmixeddelight; for she was also aware of a vague trouble, a want that nothingin her usual duties satisfied:--in a word, she had crossed thethreshold of womanhood and was no longer a girl,
"Singing alone in the morning of life, In the happy morning of life, and May."