CHAPTER XXI
RIPPLES ON DEEP WATER
After dinner was over, Reuben cried, "Come, Zillah, I'm going out withDapple, and I'll give thee a ride that'll settle thy dinner. Emily,thee hasn't petted Dapple to-day. Thee's very forgetful of one of thybest friends."
"Do you know," said Miss Warren to me as we followed the boy, "Reubensent Dapple's love to me every time he wrote?"
"It's just what Dapple would have done himself if he could. Did yourefuse to receive it?"
"No, indeed. Why should I?"
"Oh, I'm not jealous; only I can't help thinking that the horse hadgreater privileges than I."
She bit her lip, and her color deepened, but instead of answering shetripped away from me toward the barn. Dapple came prancing out, andwhinnied as soon as he saw her.
"Oh, he knows thee as well as I do," said Reuben. "He thinks thee's ajolly good girl. Thee's kind of cut me out; but I owe thee no grudge.See how he'll come to thee now," and sure enough, the horse came andput his nose in her hand, where he found a lump of sugar.
"I won't give you fine words only, Dapple," she said, and the beautifulanimal's spirited eyes grew mild and gentle as if he understood herperfectly.
"Heaven grant that she gives me more than words!" I muttered.
While Reuben was harnessing Dapple, Miss Warren entered the barn,saying:
"I feel a little remorseful over my treatment of Old Plod, and think Iwill go and speak to him."
"May I be present at the interview?"
"Certainly."
Either the old horse had grown duller and heavier than ever, or elsewas offended by her long neglect, for he paid her but little attention,and kept his head down in his manger.
"Dapple would not treat you like that, even if you hadn't a lump ofsugar in your hand."
"Dapple is peculiar," she remarked.
"Do you mean a little ill-balanced? He was certainly very precipitateon one occasion."
"Yes, but he had the grace to stop before he did any harm."
"But suppose he couldn't stop? Did Old Plod give you any more advice?"
"Mr. Morton, you must cub your editorial habit of inquiring intoeverything. Am I a dragon?"
"I fear you more than all the dragons put together."
"Then you are a brave man to stay."
"Not at all. To run away would be worse than death."
"What an awful dilemma you are in! It seems to me, however, the coolestveteran in the land could not have made a better dinner while in suchperil."
"I had scarcely eaten anything since yesterday morning. Moreover, I wasloyally bound to compliment Mrs. Yocomb's efforts in the only way thatwould have satisfied her."
"That reminds me that I ought to go and help Mrs. Yocomb clear away thevast debris of such a dinner."
"Miss Warren, I have only this afternoon and evening."
"Truly, Mr. Morton, the pathos in your tones would move a post"
"But will it move you? That's the question that concerns me. Will youtake a walk with me?"
"Indeed, I think I must go now, if I would not be thought moreinsensible than a post. Wait till I put on more wraps, and do you getyour overcoat, sir, or you will take cold."
"Yes, I'm awfully afraid I shall be chilled, and the overcoat wouldn'thelp me. Nevertheless, I'll do your bidding in this, as in allrespects."
"What a lamblike frame of mind!" she cried; but her step up the piazzawas light and quick.
"She could not so play with me if she meant to be cruel, for she hasnot a feline trait," I murmured, as I pulled on my ulster. "This genialday has been my ally, and she has not the heart to embitter it. So farfrom finding 'other interests,' she must have seen that time hasintensified the one chief interest of my life. Oh, it would be likedeath to be sent away again. How beautiful she has become in herrenewed health! Her great spiritual eyes make me more conscious of thewoman-angel within her than of a flesh-and-blood girl. Human she isindeed, but never of the earth, earthy. Even when I take her hand, nowagain so plump and pretty, I feel the exquisite thrill of her lifewithin. It's like touching a spirit, were such a thing possible. Icrushed her hand this morning, brute that I was! It's been red all day.Well, Heaven speed me now!"
"What! talking to yourself again, Mr. Morton?" asked Miss Warren,suddenly appearing, and looking anything but spirit-like, with her richcolor and substantial wraps.
"It's a habit of lonely people," I said.
"The idea of a man being lonely among such crowds as you must meet!"
"I have yet to learn that a crowd makes company."
"Wouldn't you like to ask Mr. Yocomb to go with us?"
"No," I replied, very brusquely.
"I fear your lamblike mood is passing away."
"Not at all. Moreover, I'm a victim of remorse--I hurt your hand thismorning."
"Yes, you did."
"I've hurt you a great many times."
"I'm alive, thank you, and have had a good dinner."
"Yes, you are very much alive. Are you very amiable after dinner?"
"No; that's a trait belonging to men alone. I now understand yourlamblike mood. But where are you going, Mr. Morton? You are walking atrandom, and have brought up against the barn."
"Oh, I see. Wouldn't you like to visit Old Plod again?"
"No, I thank you; he has forgotten me."
"By the way, we are friends, are we not, and can be very confidential?"
"If you have any doubt, you had better be prudent and reticent."
"I wish I could find some sweetbrier; I'd give you the whole bush."
"Do you think I deserve a thorny experience?"
"You know what I think. When was there an hour when you did not lookthrough me as if I were glass. But we are confidential friends, are wenot?"
"Well, for the sake of argument we may imagine ourselves such."
"To be logical, then, I must tell you something of which I have not yetspoken to any one. I called on Adah the evening I learned she was intown, and I saw her enter an elegant coupe driven by a coachman instunning livery. A millionaire of your acquaintance accompanied her."
"What!" she exclaimed, her face becoming fairly radiant.
I nodded very significantly.
"For shame, Mr. Morton! What a gossip you are!" but her laugh rang outlike a chime of silver bells.
At that moment Mr. Yocomb appeared on the piazza, and he applaudedloudly, "Good for thee, Emily," he cried, "that sounds like old times."
"Come away, quick," I said, and I strode rapidly around the barn.
"Do you expect me to keep up with you?" she asked, stopping short andlooking so piquant and tempting that I rejoined her instantly.
"I'll go as slow as you please. I'll do anything under heaven you bidme."
"You treat Mr. Yocomb very shabbily."
"You won't make me go after him, will you?"
"Why, Mr. Morton? What base ingratitude and after such a dinner, too."
"You know how ill-balanced I am."
"I fear you are growing worse and worse."
"I am, indeed. Left to myself, I should be the most unbalanced man inthe world."
"Mr. Morton, your mind is clearly unsettled. I detected the truth thefirst day I saw you."
"No, my mind, such as it is, is made up irrevocably and forever. I musttell you that I can't afford to keep a coupe."
"There is a beautiful sequence in your remarks. Then you ought not tokeep one. But why complain. There are always omnibuses within call."
"Are you fond of riding in an omnibus?"
"What an irrelevant question! Suppose I followed your example, and askwhat you think of the Copernican system?" "You can't be ill-balanced ifyou try, and your question is not in the least irrelevant. TheCopernican system is true, and illustrates my position exactly. Thereis a heavenly body, radiant with light and beauty, that attracts meirresistibly. The moment I came within her influence my orbit wasfixed."
"Isn't your orbit a little eccentric?" she asked, wit
h averted face."Still your figure may be very apt. Another body of greater attractionwould carry you off into space."
"There is no such body in existence."
"Mr. Morton, we were talking about omnibuses."
"And you have not answered my question."
"Since we are such confidential friends, I will tell you a profoundsecret. I prefer street cars to omnibuses, and would much rather ridein one than in a carriage that I could not pay for."
"Well, now, that's sensible."
"Yes, quite matter-of-fact. Where are you going, Mr. Morton?"
"Wherever you wish--even to Columbus."
"What! run away from your work and duty? Where is your conscience?"
"Where my heart is."
"Oh, both are in Columbus. I should think it inconvenient to have themso far off."
I tried to look in her eyes, but she turned them away.
"I can prove that my conscience was in Columbus; I consulted you onevery question I discussed in the paper."
"Nonsense! you never wrote me a line."
"I was enjoined not to in a way that made my blood run cold. But Ithought Mrs. Vining's opinions might be influenced by a member of herfamily, and I never wrote a line unmindful of that influence."
Again her laugh rang out. "I should call the place where you wrote theCircumlocution Office. Well, to keep up your way of doing things, thatmember of the family read most critically all you wrote."
"How could you tell my work from that of others?"
"Oh, I could tell every line from your hand as if spoken to me."
"Well, fair critic?"
"Never compliment a critic. It makes them more severe."
"I could do so much better if you were in New York."
"What! Do you expect me to go into the newspaper business?"
"You are in it now--you are guiding me. You are the inspiration of mybest work, and you know it."
We had now reached a point where the lane wound through a hemlockgrove. My hope was glad and strong, but I resolved at once to removeall shadow of fear, and I shrank from further probation. Therefore Istopped decisively, and said in a voice that faltered not a little:
"Emily, our light words are but ripples that cover depths which in mycase reach down through life and beyond it. You are my fate. I knew itthe day I first met you. I know it now with absolute conviction."
She turned a little away from me and trembled.
"Do you remember this?" I asked, and I took from my pocketbook thewithered York and Lancaster rosebud.
She gave it a dark glance, and her crimson face grew pale.
"Too well," she replied, in a low tone.
I threw it down and ground it under my heel; then, removing my hat, Isaid:
"I am at your mercy. You are the stronger, and your foot is on my neck."
She turned on me instantly, and her face was aflame with her eagerimperious demand to know the truth. Taking both my hands in a tense,strong grasp, she looked into my eyes as if she would read my verysoul. "Richard," she said, in a voice that was half entreaty, halfcommand, "in God's name, tell me the truth--the whole truth. Do yourespect me at heart? Do you trust me? Can you trust me as Mr. Yocombtrusts his wife?"
"I will make no comparisons," I replied, gently. "Like the widow in theBible, I give you all I have."
Her tense grasp relaxed, her searching eyes melted into love itself,and I snatched her to my heart.
"What were the millions I lost compared with this dowry!" she murmured."I knew it--I've known it all day, ever since you crushed my hand. Oh,Richard, your rude touch healed a sore heart."
"Emily," I said, with a low laugh, "that June day was the day of fateafter all."
"It was, indeed. I wish I could make you know how gladly I accept mine.Oh, Richard, I nearly killed myself trying not to love you. It wasfate, or something better."
"Then suppose we change the figure, and say our match was made inheaven."
I will not attempt to describe that evening at the farmhouse. We weremade to feel that it was our own dear home--a safe, quiet haven everopen to us when we wished to escape from the turmoil of the world. Ithank God for our friends there, and their unchanging truth.
I accompanied Emily to Columbus, but I went after her again in thespring and for a time she made her home with Mrs. Yocomb.
Adah was married at Mrs. Winfield's large city mansion, for Mr. Hearnhad a host of relatives and friends whom he wished present. Thefarmhouse would not have held a tithe of them, and the banker was soproud of his fair country flower that he seemed to want the whole worldto see her.
We were married on the anniversary of the day of our fate, and in theold garden where I first saw my Eve, my truth. She has never tempted meto aught save good deeds and brave work.
THE END
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