XIV.

  IN THE NIGHT WATCHES.

  Meantime in the old house Hermione sat watching Emma as she combed outher long hair before the tiny mirror in their bedroom. Her face,relieved now from all effort at self-control, betrayed a deepdiscouragement, which deepened its tragic lines and seemed to fill theroom with gloom. Yet she said nothing till Emma had finished her taskand looked around, then she exclaimed:

  "Another curse has fallen upon us; we might have been rich, but mustremain poor. Do you think we can bear many more disappointments, Emma?"

  "I do not think that I can," murmured Emma, with a pitiful smile. "Butwhat do you mean by riches? Gaining our case would not have made usrich."

  "No."

  "Has--has Mr. Etheridge offered himself? Have you had a chance of _that_happiness, and refused it?"

  Hermione, who had been gazing almost sadly at her sister as she spokethe foregoing words, flushed, half angrily, half disdainfully, andanswered with sufficient bitterness in her voice:

  "Could I accept any man's devotion _now_! Could I accept even _his_ ifit were offered to me? Emma, your memory seems very short, or you havenever realized the position in which I stand."

  Emma, who had crimsoned as painfully as her sister at that oneemphasized word, which suggested so much to both sisters, did not answerfor a moment, but when she did her words came with startlingdistinctness.

  "You do me wrong; I not only have realized, to the core of my heart,your position and what it demands, but I have shared it, as you know,and never more than when the question came up as to whether we girlscould marry with such a shadow hanging over us."

  "Emma, what do you mean?" asked Hermione, rising and confronting hersister, with wide open, astonished eyes. For Emma's appearance wasstartling, and might well thrill an observer who had never before seenher gentleness disturbed by a passion as great as she herself mightfeel.

  But Emma, at the first sight of this reflection of her own emotions inHermione's face, calmed her manner, and put a check upon her expression.

  "If you do not know," said she, "I had rather not be the one to tellyou. But never say again that I do not realize your position."

  "Emma, Emma," pursued Hermione, without a change of tone or anydiminution in the agitation of her manner to show that she had heardthese words, "have _you_ had a lover and I not know it? Did you give upthat _when_----" The elder sister choked; the younger smiled, but withan infinite sadness.

  "I should not have spoken of it," said she; "I would not have done so,but that I hoped to influence you to look on this affair with differenteyes. I--I believe you ought to embrace this new hope, Hermione. Do buttell him----"

  "_Tell him_! that would be a way to gain him surely."

  "I do not think it would cause you to lose him; that is, if you couldassure him that your heart is free to love him as such a man ought to beloved."

  The question in these words made Hermione blush and turn away; but heremotion was nothing to that of the quieter sister, who, after she hadmade this suggestion, stood watching its effect with eyes in which thepain and despair of a year seemed at once to flash forth to light.

  "I honor him," began Hermione, in a low, broken voice, "but you know itwas not honor simply that I felt for----"

  "Do not speak his name," flashed out Emma. "He--you--do not care foreach other, or--or--you and I would never be talking as we are doinghere to-night. I am sure you have forgotten him, Hermione, for all yourhesitations and efforts to be faithful. I have seen it in your eyes forweeks, I have heard it in your voice when you have spoken to this newfriend. Why then deceive yourself; why let a worn-out memory stand inthe way of a new joy, a real joy, an unsullied and wholly promisinghappiness?"

  "Emma! Emma, what has come to you? You never talked to me like thisbefore. Is it the memory of this folly only that stands in the way ofwhat you so astonishingly advocate? Can a woman situated as I am, giveherself up to any hope, any joy?"

  "Yes, for the situation will change when you yield yourself once againto the natural pleasures of life. I do not believe in the attitude youhave taken, Hermione; I have never believed in it, yet I have cheerfullyshared it because, because--you know why; do not let us talk of thosedays."

  "You do not know all my provocation," quoth Hermione.

  "Perhaps not, but nothing can excuse the sacrifice you are making ofyour life. Consider, Hermione. Why should you? Have you not duties tothe present, as well as to the past? Should you not think of the longyears that may lie between this hour and a possible old age, years whichmight be filled with beneficence and love, but which now----"

  "Emma, Emma, what are you saying? Are you so tired of sharing my fatethat you would try to make me traitor to my word, traitor to mylove----"

  "Hush," whispered again Emma, "you do not love _him_. Answer me, if youdo. Plunge deep into your heart, and say if you feel as you did once; Iwant to hear the words from your lips, but be honest."

  "Would it be any credit to me if I did not? Would you think more of meif I acknowledged the past was a mistake, and that I wrecked my life fora passion which a year's absence could annul."

  But the tender Emma was inexorable, and held her sister by the handswhile she repeated.

  "Answer, answer! or I shall take your very refusal for a reply."

  But Hermione only drooped her head, and finally drew away her hands.

  "You seem to prefer the cause of this new man," she murmured ironically."Perhaps you think he will make the better brother-in-law."

  The flush on Emma's cheek spread till it dyed her whole neck.

  "I think," she observed gravely, "that Mr. Etheridge is the more devotedto you, Hermione. Dr. Sellick--" what did not that name cost her?--"hasnot even looked up at our windows when riding by the house."

  Hermione's eye flashed, and she bounded imperiously to her feet.

  "And that is why I think that he still remembers. And shall I forget?"she murmured more softly, "while he cherishes one thought of grief orchagrin over the past?"

  Emma, whose head had fallen on her breast, played idly with her longhair, and softly drew it across her face.

  "If you knew," she murmured, "that he did not cherish one thought suchas you imagine, would you then open your heart to this new love and thebrightness in the world and all the hopes which belong to our time oflife."

  "If, if," repeated Hermione, staring at the half-hidden face of hersister as at some stranger whom she had found persistent andincomprehensible. "I don't know what you mean by your _ifs_. Do youthink it would add to my content and self-satisfaction to hear that Ihad reared this ghastly prison which I inhabit on a foundation of sand,and that the walls in toppling would crash about my ears and destroy me?You must have a strange idea of a woman's heart, if you thought it wouldmake me any readier to face life if I knew I had sacrificed my all to achimera."

  Emma sighed. "Not if it gave you a new hope," she whispered.

  "Ah," murmured Hermione, and her face softened for the first time. "Idare not think of that," she murmured. "I dare not, Emma; I DARE NOT."

  The younger sister, as if answered, threw back her hair and looked atHermione quite brightly.

  "You will come to dare in time," said she, and fled from the room like aspirit.

  When she was gone, Hermione stood still for many minutes; then shebegan quietly to let down her own hair. As the long locks fell curlingand dark about her shoulders, a dreamier and dreamier spirit came uponher, mellowing the light in her half-closed eyes, and bringing such asweet, half-timid, half-longing smile to her lips that she looked theembodiment of virginal joy. But the mood did not last long, and ere thethick curls were duly parted and arranged for the night, the tears hadbegun to fall, and the sobs to come till she was fain to put out herlight and hide behind the curtains of her bed the grief and remorsewhich were pressing upon her.

  Meanwhile Emma had stolen to her aunt's room, and was kneeling downbeside her peaceful figure.

  "Aunt, dear Aunt," she cried, "tell me w
hat my duty is. Help me todecide if Hermione should be told the truth which we have so long keptfrom her."

  She knew the old lady could not hear, but she was in the habit ofspeaking to her just as if she could, and often through some subtlesympathy between them the sense of her words was understood and answeredin a way to surprise her.

  And in this case Mrs. Lovell seemed to understand, for she kissed Emmawith great fondness, and then, taking the sweet, troubled, passionateface between her two palms, looked at her with such love and sympathythat the tears filled Emma's eyes, for all her efforts at self-control.

  "Tell her," came forth at last, in the strange, loud tones of theperfectly deaf, "and leave the rest to God. You have kept silence, andthe wound has not healed; now try the truth, and may heaven bless youand the two others whom you desire to make happy."

  And Emma, rising up, thanked God that he had left them this one blessingin their desolation--this true-hearted and tender-souled adviser.

  * * * * *

  That night, as Hermione was tossing in a restless sleep, she suddenlybecame aware of a touch on her shoulder, and, looking up, she saw hersister standing before her, with a lighted candle in her hand, and herhair streaming about her.

  "What is the matter?" she cried, bounding up in terror, for Emma's facewas livid with its fixed resolve, and wore a look such as Hermione hadnever seen there before.

  "Nothing," cried the other, "nothing; only I have something to tellyou--something which you should have known a long time ago--somethingabout which you should never have been deceived. It is this, Hermione.It was not you Dr. Sellick wished to marry, but myself." And with thewords the light was blown out, and Hermione found herself alone.

  BOOK II.

  THE SECRET OF THE LABORATORY.