WHEN the tide has long been rising the time comes for it to recede.From the moment of Marian's awakening to a desire for a betterwomanhood, she had been under a certain degree of mental excitementand exaltation. This condition had culminated with the eventsthat wrought up the loyal North into suspense, anguish, and stern,relentless purpose.
While these events had a national and world-wide significance, theyalso pressed closely, in their consequences, on individual life.It has been shown how true this was in the experience of Marian.Her own personal struggle alone, in which she was combating thehabits and weakness of the past, would not have been a trivialmatter,--it never is when there is earnest endeavor,--but, inaddition to this, her whole soul had been kindling in sympathy withthe patriotic fire that was impelling her dearest friends towardsdanger and possible death. Lane's, Strahan's, and Blauvelt'sdeparture, and her father's peril, had brought her to a point thatalmost touched the limit of endurance. Then had come the man whoseattentions had been so humiliating to her personally, and whorepresented to her the genius of the Rebellion that was bringingher such cruel experience. She saw his spirit of condescension evenin his offer of marriage; worse still, she saw that he belittledthe conflict in which even her father was risking his life; and herindignation and resentment had burst forth upon him with a powerthat she could not restrain.
The result had been most unexpected. Instead of slinking awayoverwhelmed with shame and confusion, or departing in haughty anger,Merwyn had revealed to her that which is rarely witnessed by anyone,--the awakening of a strong, passionate nature. In the cynical,polished, self-pleasing youth was something of which she had notdreamed,--of which he was equally unaware. Her bitter words piercedthrough the strata of self-sufficiency and pride that had beenaccumulating for years. She stabbed with truth the outer man andslew it, but the inner and possible manhood felt the sharp thrustand sprung up wounded, bleeding, and half desperate with pain. Thatwhich wise and kindly education might have developed was evoked insudden agony, strong yet helpless, overwhelmed with the humiliatingconsciousness of what had been, and seeing not the way to whatshe would honor. Yet in that supreme moment the instinct asserteditself that she, who had slain his meaner self, had alone the powerto impart the impulse toward true manhood and to give the truemeasure of it. Hence a declaration so passionate, and an appeal sofull of his immense desire and need, that she was frightened, andfaltered helplessly.
In the following weary days of suffering and weakness, she realizedthat she was very human, and not at all the exalted heroine thatshe had unconsciously come to regard herself. The suitor whom shehad thought to dismiss in contempt and anger, and to have done with,could not be banished from her mind. The fact that he had provedhimself to be all that she had thought him did not satisfy her,for the reason that he had apparently shown himself to be so muchmore. She had judged him superficially, and punished him accordingly.She had condemned him unsparingly for traits which, except for a fewshort months, had been her own characteristics. While it was truethat they seemed more unworthy in a man, still they were essentiallythe same.
"But he was not a man," she sighed. "He was scarcely more than theselfish boy that wealth, indulgence, and fashionable life had madehim. Why was I so blind to this? Why could I not have seen thatnothing had ever touched him deeply enough to show what he was,or, at least, of what he was capable? What was Strahan before hismanhood was awakened? A little gossiping exquisite. Even Mr. Lane,who was always better than any of us, has changed wonderfullysince he has had exceptional motives for noble action. What was I,myself, last June, when I was amusing myself at the expense of aman whom I knew to be so good and true? In view of all this, insteadof having a little charity for Mr. Merwyn, who, no doubt, is onlythe natural product of the influences of his life, I only toleratedhim in the vindictive hope of giving the worst blow that a woman caninflict. I might have seen that he had a deeper nature; at least,I might have hoped that he had, and given him a chance to revealit. Perhaps there has never been one who tried to help him towardtrue manhood. He virtually said that his mother was a Southernfanatic, and his associations have been with those abroad whosympathized with her. Is it strange that a mere boy of twenty-oneshould be greatly influenced by his mother and her aristocraticfriends? He said his father was a Northern man, and he may haveimbibed the notion that he could not fight on either side. Well,if he will give up such a false idea, if he will show that he isnot cold-blooded and calculating, as his last outbreak seemed toprove, and can become as brave and true a soldier as Strahan, Iwill make amends by treating him as I do Strahan, and will try tofeel as friendly towards him. He shall not have the right to sayI'm 'not a woman but a fanatic.'"
She proved herself a woman by the effort to make excuses for onetowards whom she had been severe, by her tendency to relent aftershe had punished to her heart's content.
"But," added the girl aloud, in the solitude of her room, "while Imay give him my hand in some degree of kindliness and friendship,if he shows a different spirit, he shall never have my colors, nevermy loyal and almost sisterly love, until he has shown the courageand manhood of Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan. They shall have the firstplace until a better knight appears."
When, one September evening, her father quietly entered his homehe gave her an impulse towards convalescence beyond the power ofall remedies. There were in time mutual confidences, though hiswere but partial, because relating to affairs foreign to her life,and tending to create useless anxieties in respect to the future.He was one of those sagacious, fearless agents whom the government,at that period, employed in many and secret ways. For obvious reasonsthe nature and value of their services will never be fully known.
Marian was unreserved in her relation of what had occurred, andher father smiled and reassured her.
"In one sense you are right," he said. "We should have a broader,kindlier charity for all sorts of people, and remember that, sincewe do not know their antecedents and the influences leading totheir actions, we should not be hasty to judge. Your course mighthave been more Christian-like towards young Merwyn, it is true.Coming from you, however, in your present state of development,it was very natural, and I'm not sure but he richly deserved yourwords. If he has good mettle he will be all the better for them.If he spoke from mere impulse and goes back to his old life andassociations, I'm glad my little girl was loyal and brave enoughto lodge in his memory truths that he won't forget. Take the goodold doctrine to your relenting heart and don't forgive him untilhe 'brings forth fruits meet for repentance.' I'm proud of you thatyou gave the young aristocrat such a wholesome lesson in regard togenuine American manhood and womanhood."
Mrs. Vosburgh's reception of her husband was a blending of welcomeand reproaches. What right had he to overwhelm them with anxiety,etc., etc.?
"The right of about a million men who are taking part in thestruggle," he replied, laughing at her good-naturedly.
"But I can't permit or endure it any longer," said his wife, andthere was irritation in her protest.
"Well, my dear," he replied, with a shrug, "I must remain amongthe eccentric millions who continue to act according to their ownjudgment."
"Mamma!" cried Marian, who proved that she was getting well by atendency to speak sharply, "do you wish papa to be poorer-spiritedthan any of the million? What kind of a man would he be should hereply, 'Just as you say, my dear; I've no conscience, or will of myown'? I do not believe that any girl in the land will suffer morethan I when those I love are in danger, but I'd rather die thanblockade the path of duty with my love."
"Yes, and some day when you are fatherless you may repent thosewords," sobbed Mrs. Vosburgh.
"This will not answer," said Mr. Vosburgh, in a tone that quietedboth mother and daughter, who at this stage were inclined to be alittle hysterical. "A moment's rational thought will convince youthat words cannot influence me. I know exactly what I owe to you andto my country, and no earthly power can change my course a hair'sbreadth. If I should be brought home dead to-morrow,
Marian wouldnot have the shadow of a reason for self-reproach. She would haveno more to do with it than with the sunrise. Your feelings, inboth instances, are natural enough, and no doubt similar scenes aretaking place all over the land; but men go just the same, as theyshould do and always have done in like emergencies. So wipe awayyour tears, little women. You have nothing to cry about yet, whilemany have."
The master mind controlled and quieted them. Mrs. Vosburgh lookedat her husband a little curiously, and it dawned upon her moreclearly than ever before that the man whom she managed, as shefancied, was taking his quiet, resolute way through life with hisown will at the helm.
Marian thought, "Ah, why does not mamma idolize such a man and findher best life in making the most of his life?"
She had, as yet, scarcely grasped the truth that, as diseaseenfeebles the body, so selfishness disables the mind, robbing it ofthe power to care for others, or to understand them. In a senseMr. Vosburgh would always be a stranger to his wife. He hadphilosophically and patiently accepted the fact, and was makingthe best of the relation as it existed.
It was now decided that the family should return at once to theircity home. Mr. Vosburgh had a few days of leisure to superintendthe removal, and then his duties would become engrossing.
The evening before their departure was one of mild, charmingbeauty, and as the dining-room was partially dismantled, it was Mr.Vosburgh's fancy to have the supper-table spread on the veranda.The meal was scarcely finished when a tall, broad-shouldered manappeared at the foot of the steps, and Sally, the pretty waitress,manifested a blushing consciousness of his presence.
"Wud Mr. Vosburgh let me spake to him a moment?" began the stranger.
Marian recognized the voice that, from the shrubbery, hadgiven utterance to the indignant protest against traits which hadonce characterized her own life and motives. Thinking it possiblethat her memory was at fault, she glanced at Sally's face and theimpression was confirmed. "What ages have passed since that Juneevening!" she thought.
"Is it anything private, my man?" asked Mr. Vosburgh, pushing backhis chair and lighting a cigar.
"Faix, zur, it's nothin' oi'm ashamed on. I wish to lave the countryand get a place on the perlace force," repeated the man, with analacrity which showed that he wished Sally to hear his request.
"You look big and strong enough to handle most men."
"Ye may well say that, zur; oi've not sane the man yit that oi wasafeared on."
Sally chuckled over her knowledge that this was not true in respectto women, while Marian whispered to her father: "Secure him theplace if you can, papa. You owe a great deal to him and so do I,although he does not know it. This is the man whose words, spokento Sally, disgusted me with my old life. Don't you remember?"
Mr. Vosburgh's eyes twinkled, as he shot a swift glance at Sally,whose face was redder than the sunset. The man's chief attractionto the city was apparent.
"What's your name?" the gentleman asked.
"Barney Ghegan, zur."
"Are you perfectly loyal to the North? Will you help carry out thelaws, even against your own flesh and blood, if necessary?"
"Oi'll 'bey orders, zur," replied the man, emphatically. "Oi'vecome to Amarekay to stay, and oi'll stan' by the goovernment."
"Can you bring me a certificate of your character?"
"Oi can, zur, for foive years aback."
"Bring it then, Barney, and you shall go on the force; for you'rea fine, strong-looking man,--the kind needed in these days," saidMr. Vosburgh, glad to do a good turn for one who unwittingly hadrendered him so great a service, and also amused at this lateraspect of the affair.
This amusement was greatly enhanced by observing Barney's proud,triumphant glance at Sally. Turning quickly to note its effect onthe girl, Mr. Vosburgh caught the coquettish maid in the act ofmaking a grimace at her much-tormented suitor.
Sally's face again became scarlet, and in embarrassed haste shebegan to clear the table.
Barney was retiring slowly, evidently wishing for an interviewwith his elusive charmer before he should return to his presentemployers, and Mr. Vosburgh good-naturedly put in a word in hisfavor.
"Stay, Barney, and have some supper before you go home. In behalfof Mrs. Vosburgh I give you a cordial invitation."
"Yes," added the lady, who had been quietly laughing. "Now that youare to be so greatly promoted we shall be proud to have you stay."
Barney doffed his hat and exclaimed, "Long loife to yez all,espacially to the swate-faced young leddy that first spoke a goodwourd for me, oi'm a-thinkin';" and he stepped lightly around tothe rear of the house.
"Sally," said Mr. Vosburgh, with preternatural gravity.
The girl courtesied and nearly dropped a dish.
"Mr. Barney Ghegan will soon be receiving a large salary."
Sally courtesied again, but her black eyes sparkled as she whiskedthe rest of the things from the table and disappeared. She maintainedher old tactics during supper and before the other servants, exultingin the fact that the big, strong man was on pins and needles, devoidof appetite and peace.
"'Afeared o' no mon,' he says," she thought, smilingly. "He's soafeared o' me that he's jist a tremblin'."
After her duties were over, Barney said, mopping his brow: "Faix,but the noight is warm. A stroll in the air wudn't be bad, oi'ma-thinkin'."
"Oi'm cool as a cowcumber," remarked Sally. "We'll wait for ye tillye goes out and gits cooled off;" and she sat down complacently,while the cook and the laundress tittered.
An angry sparkle began to assert itself in Barney's blue eyes, andhe remarked drily, as he took his hat, "Yez moight wait longer thanyez bargained for."
The shrewd girl saw that she was at the length of her chain, andsprung up, saying: "Oh, well, since the mistress invited ye sopolitely, ye's company, and it's me duty to thry to entertain ye.Where shall we go?" she added, as she passed out with him.
"To the rustic sate, sure. Where else shud we go?"
"A rustic sate is a quare place for a stroll."
"Oi shall have so much walkin' on me bate in New York, that it'swell to begin settin' down aready, oi'm a-thinkin'."
"Why, Barney, ye're going to be a reg'lar tramp. Who'd 'a thoughtthat ye'd come down to that."
"Ah! arrah, wid ye nonsense! Sit ye down here, for oi'm a-goin' tospake plain the noight. Noo, by the Holy Vargin, oi'm in arenest.Are ye goin' to blow hot, or are ye goin' to blow could?"
"Considerin' the hot night, Barney, wouldn't it be better for meto blow could?"
Barney scratched his head in perplexity. "Ye know what I mane," heejaculated.
"Where will ye foind the girl that tells all she knows?"
"O Sally, me darlint, what's the use of batin' around the bush?Ye know that a cat niver looked at crame as oi look on ye," saidBarney, in a wheedling tone, and trying the tactics of coaxing oncemore.
He sat down beside her and essayed with his insinuating arm tofurther his cause as his words had not done.
"Arrah, noo, Barney Ghegan, what liberties wud ye be takin' wid arespectable girl?" and she drew away decidedly.
He sprung to his feet and exploded in the words: "Sally Maguire,will ye be me woife? By the holy poker! Answer, yis or no."
Sally rose, also, and in equally pronounced tones replied: "Yes,Barney Ghegan, I will, and I'll be a good and faithful one, too.It's yeself that's been batin' round the bush. Did ye think a womanwas a-goin' to chase ye over hill and down dale and catch ye bythe scruff of the neck? What do ye take me for?"
"Oi takes ye for better, Sally, me darlint;" and then followedsounds suggesting the popping of a dozen champagne corks.
Mr. Vosburgh, his wife, and Marian had been chatting quietlyon the piazza, unaware of the scene taking place in the screeningshrubbery until Barney's final question had startled the night likea command to "stand and deliver."
Repressing laughter with difficulty they tiptoed into the houseand closed the door.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A GI
RL'S STANDARD.