What Answer?
CHAPTER XII
"_And down on aching heart and brain Blow after blow unbroken falls._"
BOKER
"A letter for you, sir," said the clerk, as Surrey stopped at the deskfor his key. It was a bulky epistle, addressed in his aunt Russell'shand, and he carried it off, wondering what she could have to say atsuch length.
He was in no mood to read or to enjoy; but, nevertheless, tore open thecover, finding within it a double letter. Taking the envelope of onefrom the folds of the other, his eye fell first upon his mother'swriting; a short note and a puzzling one.
* * * * *
"My dear Willie:--
"I have tried to write you a letter, but cannot. I never wounded you ifI could avoid it, and I do not wish to begin now. Augusta and I had atalk about you yesterday which crazed me with anxiety. She told me itwas my place to write you what ought to be said under these tryingcircumstances, for we are sure you have remained in Philadelphia to seeMiss Ercildoune. At first I said I would, and then my heart failed me. Iwas sure, too, that she could write, as she always does, much betterthan I; so I begged her to say all that was necessary, and I would sendher this note to enclose with her letter. Read it, I entreat you, andthen hasten, I pray you, hasten to us at once.
"Take care of your arm, do not hurt yourself by any excitement; and,with dear love from your father, which he would send did he know I waswriting, believe me always your devoted
"MOTHER."
* * * * *
"'Trying circumstances!'--'Miss Ercildoune!'--what does it mean?" hecried, bewildered. "Come, let us see."
The letter which he now opened was an old and much-fingered one,written--as he saw at the first glance--by his aunt to his mother. Whyit was sent to him he could not conjecture; and, without attempting toso do, at once plunged into its pages:--
* * * * *
"CONTINENTAL HOTEL, PHILADELPHIA, JUNE 27, 1861
"MY DEAR LAURA:--
"I can readily understand with what astonishment you will read thisletter, from the amazement I have experienced in collecting its details.I will not weary you with any personal narration, but tell my tale atonce.
"Miss Ercildoune, as you know, was my daughter's intimate at school,--aschool, the admittance to which was of itself a guarantee ofrespectability. Of course I knew nothing of her family, nor ofher,--save as Clara wrote me of her beauty and her accomplishments, and,above all, of her style,--till I met Mrs. Lancaster. Of her it isneedless for me to speak. As you know, she is irreproachable, and herposition is of the best. Consequently when Clara wrote me that herfriend was to come to New York to her aunt, and begged to entertain herfor a while, I added my request to her entreaty, and Miss Ercildounecame. Ill-fated visit! would it had never been made!
"It is useless now to deny her gifts and graces. They are, reluctantly Iconfess, so rare and so conspicuous--have so many times been seen, andknown, and praised by us all,--that it would put me in the most foolishof attitudes should I attempt to reconsider a verdict so frequentlypronounced, or to eat my own words, uttered a thousand times.
"It is also, I presume, useless to deny that we were well pleased--nay,delighted--with Willie's evident sentiment for her. Indeed, sothoroughly did she charm me, that, had I not seen how absolutely hisheart was enlisted in her pursuit, she is the very girl whom I shouldhave selected, could I have so done, as a wife for Tom and a daughterfor myself.
"I knew full well how deep was this feeling for her when he marchedaway, on that day so full of supreme splendor and pain, unable to seeher and to say adieu. His eyes, his face, his manner, his very voice,marked his restlessness, his longing, and disappointment. I waspositively angry with the girl for thwarting and hurting him so, and,whatever her excuse might be, for her absence at such a time. Howconstantly are we quarrelling with our best fates!
"She remained in New York, as you know, for some weeks after the 19th;in fact, has been at home but for a little while. Once or twice, soprovoked with her was I for disappointing our pet, I could not resistthe temptation of saying some words about him which, if she cared forhim, I knew would wound her: and, indeed, they did,--wounded her sodeeply, as was manifest in her manner and her face, that I had not theheart to repeat the experiment.
"One week ago I had a letter from Willie, enclosing another to her, andan entreaty, as he had written one which he was sure had miscarried,that I would see that this reached her hands in safety. So anxious was Ito fulfil his request in its word and its spirit, and so certain that Icould further his cause,--for I was sure this letter was alove-letter,--that I did not forward it by post, but, being compelledto come to Burlington, I determined to go on to Philadelphia, drive outto her home, and myself deliver the missive into her very hands. A mostfortunate conclusion, as you will presently decide.
"Last evening I reached the city,--rested, slept here,--and this morningwas driven to her father's place. For all our sakes, I was somewhatanxious, under the circumstances, that this should be quite the thing;and I confess myself, on the instant of its sight, more than satisfied.It is really superb!--the grounds extensive, and laid out with the mostabsolute taste. The house, large and substantial, looks very like anEnglish mansion; with a certain quaint style and antique elegance,refreshing to contemplate, after the crude newness and ostentatiousvulgarity of almost everything one sees here in America. It is within asit is without. Although a great many lovely things are scattered aboutof recent make, the wood-work and the heavy furniture are aristocraticfrom their very age, and in their way, literally perfection.
"Miss Ercildoune met me with not quite her usual grace and ease. Shewas, no doubt, surprised at my unexpected appearance, and--I thenthought, as a consequence--slightly embarrassed. I soon afterwardsdiscovered the constraint in her manner sprang from another cause.
"I had reached the house just at lunch-time, and she would take me outto the table to eat something with her. I had hoped to see her father,and was disappointed when she informed me he was in the city. All I sawcharmed me. The appointments of the table were like those of the house:everything exquisitely fine, and the silver massive and old,--not a newpiece among it,--and marked with a monogram and crest.
"I write you all this that you may the more thoroughly appreciate myabsolute horror at the final _denouement_, and share my astonishment atthe presumption of these people in daring to maintain such style.
"I had given her Willie's letter before we left the parlor, with asignificant word and smile, and was piqued to see that she did notblush,--in fact, became excessively white as she glanced at the writing,and with an unsteady hand put it into her pocket. After lunch she madeno motion to look at it, and as I had my own reasons for desiring her toperuse it, I said, 'Miss Francesca, will you not read your letter? thatI may know if there is any later news from our soldier.'
"She hesitated a moment, and then said, with what I thought an unnaturalmanner, 'Certainly, if you so desire,' and, taking it out, broke theseal. 'Allow me,' she added, going towards a window,--as though shedesired more light, but in reality, I knew, to turn her back uponme,--forgetting that a mirror, hanging opposite, would reveal her facewith distinctness to my gaze.
"It was pale to ghastliness, with a drawn, haggard look about the mouthand eyes that shocked as much as it amazed me; and before commencing toread she crushed the letter in her hands, pressing it to her heart witha gesture which was less of a caress than of a spasm.
"However, as she read, all this changed; and before she finished said,'Ah, Willie, it is clear your cause needs no advocate.' Positively, Idid not know a human countenance could express such happiness; there wassomething in it absolutely dazzling. And evidently entirely forgetful ofme, she raised the paper to her mouth, and kissed it again and again,pressing her lips upon it with such clinging and passionate fondness aswould have imbued it with life were that possible."
Here Willie flung down his aunt's epistle
and tore from his pocket thisself-same letter. He had kept it,--carried it about with him,--for tworeasons: because it was _hers_, he said,--this avowal of his love washers, whether she refused it or no, and he had no right to destroy herproperty; and because, as he had nothing else she had worn or touched,he cherished this sacredly since it had been in her dear hands.
Now he took it into his clasp as tenderly as though it were Francesca'sface, and kissed it with the self-same clinging and passionate fondnessas this of which he had just read. Here had her lips rested,--here; hefelt their fragrance and softness thrilling him under the cold, deadpaper, and pressed it to his heart while he continued to read:--
"Before she turned, I walked to another window,--wishing to give hertime to recover calmness, or at least self-control, and was at onceabsorbed in contemplating a gentleman whom I felt assured to be Mr.Ercildoune. He stood with his back to me, apparently giving some orderto the coachman: thus I could not see his face, but I never before wasso impressed with, so to speak, the personality of a man. His physiquewas grand, and his air and bearing magnificent, and I watched him withadmiration as he walked slowly away. I presume he passed the window atwhich she was standing, for she called, 'Papa!' 'In a moment, dear,' heanswered, and in a moment entered, and was presented; and I, raising myeyes to his face,--ah, how can I tell you what sight they beheld!
"Self-possessed as I think I am, and as I certainly ought to be, Istarted back with an involuntary exclamation, a mingling doubtless ofincredulity and disgust. This man, who stood before me with all the easeand self-assertion of a gentleman, was--you will never believe it, Ifear--_a mulatto_!
"Whatever effect my manner had on him was not perceptible. He had notseated himself, and, with a smile that was actually satirical, he bowed,uttered a few words of greeting, and went out of the room.
"'How dared you?' I then cried, for astonishment had given place torage, 'how dared you deceive me--deceive us all--so? how dared you palmyourself off as white and respectable, and thus be admitted to Mr.Hale's school and to the society and companionship of his pupils?' Icould scarcely control myself when I thought of how shamefully we hadall been cozened.
"'Pardon me, madam,' she answered with effrontery,--effrontery under thecircumstances,--'you forget yourself, and what is due from one lady toanother.' (Did you ever hear of such presumption!) 'I practised nodeceit upon Professor Hale. He knew papa well,--was his intimate friendat college, in England,--and was perfectly aware who was Mr.Ercildoune's daughter when she was admitted to his school. For myself, Ihad no confessions to make, and made none. I was your daughter's friend;as such, went to her house, and invited her here. I trust you have seenin me nothing unbecoming a gentlewoman, as, _up to this time_, I havebeheld in you naught save the attributes of a lady. If we are to haveany farther conversation, it must be conducted on the old plan, and notthe extraordinary one you have just adopted; else I shall be compelled,in self-respect, to leave you alone in my own parlor.'
"Imagine if you can the effect of this speech upon me. I assure you Iwas composed enough outwardly, if not inwardly, ere she ended hersentence. Having finished, I said, 'Pardon me, Miss Ercildoune, for anywords which may have offended your dignity. I will confine myself forthe rest of our interview to your own rules!'
"'It is well,' she responded. I had spoken satirically, and expected tosee her shrink under it, but she answered with perfect coolness and_sang froid_. I continued, 'You will not deny that you are a negro, atleast a mulatto.'
"'Pardon me, madam,' she replied; 'my father is a mulatto, my mother wasan Englishwoman. Thus, to give you accurate information upon thesubject, I am a quadroon.'
"'Quadroon be it!' I answered, angrily again, I fear. 'Quadroon,mulatto, or negro, it is all one. I have no desire to split hairs ofdefinition. You could not be more obnoxious were you black as Erebus. Ihave no farther words to pass upon the past or the present, butsomething to say of the future. You hold in your hands a letter--alove-letter, I am sure--a declaration, as I fear--from my nephew, Mr.Surrey. You will oblige me by at once sitting down, writing a peremptoryand unqualified refusal to his proposal, if he has made you one,--arefusal that will admit of no hope and no double interpretation,--andgive it into my keeping before I leave this room.'
"When I first alluded to Willie's letter she had crimsoned, but before Iclosed she was so white I should have thought her fainting, but for thefire in her eyes. However, she spoke up clear enough when she said, 'Andwhat, madam, if I deny your right to dictate any action whatever to me,however insignificant, and utterly refuse to obey your command?'
"'At your peril do so,' I exclaimed. 'Refuse, and I will write the wholeshameful story, with my own comments; and you may judge for yourself ofthe effect it will produce.'
"At that she smiled,--an indescribable sort of smile,--and shut herfingers on the letter she held,--I could not help thinking as though itwere a human hand. 'Very well, madam, write it. He has already toldme'--
"'That he loves you,' I broke in. 'Do you think he would continue to doso if he knew what you are?'
"'He knows me as well now,' she answered, 'as he will after reading anyletter of yours.'
"'Incredible!' I exclaimed. 'When he wrote you that, he did not know, hecould not have known, your birth, your race, the taint in your blood. Iwill never believe it.'
"'No,' she said, 'I did not say he did. I said he knew _me_; so well, Ithink, judging from this,'--clasping his letter with the same curiouspressure I had before noticed,--'that you could scarcely enlighten himfarther. He knows my heart, and soul, and brain,--as I said, he knows_me_.'
"'O, yes,' I answered,--or rather sneered, for I was uncontrollablyindignant through all this,--'if you mean _that_, very likely. I am nottalking lovers' metaphysics, but practical common-sense. He does notknow the one thing at present essential for him to know; and he willabandon you, spurn you,--his love turned to scorn, his passion tocontempt,--when he reads what I shall write him if you refuse to do whatI demand!'
"I expected to see her cower before me. Conceive, then, if you can, mysensations when she cried, 'Stop, madam! Say what you will to me;insult, outrage me, if you please, and have not the good breeding anddignity to forbear; but do not presume to so slander him. Do not presumeto accuse him, who is all nobility and greatness of soul, of asentiment so base, a prejudice so infamous. Study him, madam, know himbetter, ere you attempt to be his mouth-piece.'
"As she uttered these words, a horrible foreboding seized me, or, tospeak more truthfully, I so felt the certainty of what she spoke, that ashudder of terror ran over me. I thought of him, of his character, ofhis principles, of his insane sense of honor, of his terrible will underall that soft exterior,--the hand of steel under the silken glove; I sawthat if I persisted and she still refused to yield I should lose all. Onthe instant I changed my attack.
"'It is true,' I said, 'having asked you to become his wife, he willmarry you; he will redeem his pledge though it ruin his life and blasthis career, to say nothing of the effect an unending series of outragesand mortifications will have upon his temper and his heart. A prettylove, truly, yours must be,--whatever his is,--to condemn him to soterrible an ordeal, so frightful a fate.'
"She shivered at that, and I went on,--blaming my folly in notremembering, being a woman, that it was with a woman and her weakness Ihad to deal.
"'He is young,' I continued; 'he has probably a long life before him.Rich, handsome, brilliant,--a magnificent career opening tohim,--position, ease, troops of friends,--you will ruthlessly ruin allthis. Married to you, white as you are, the peculiarity of your birthwould in some way be speedily known. His father would disinherit him (itwas not necessary to tell her he has a fortune in his own right), hisfamily disown him, his friends abandon him, society close its doors uponhim, business refuse to seek him, honor and riches elude his grasp. Ifyou do not know the strength of this prejudice, which you call infamous,pre-eminently in the circle to which he belongs, I cannot tell it you.Taking all this from him, what will you
give him in return? Ruining hislife, can your affection make amends? Blasting his career, will yourlove fill the gap? Do you flatter yourself by the supposition that youcan be father, mother, relatives, friends, society, wealth, position,honor, career,--all,--to him? Your people are cursed in America, andthey transfer their curse to any one mad enough, or generous enough(that was a diplomatic turn), to connect his fate with yours.'
"Before I was through, I saw that I had carried my point. All the fineairs went out of my lady, and she looked broken and humbled enough. Imight have said less, but I ached to say more to the insolent.
"'Enough, madam,' she gasped, 'stop.' And then said, more to herselfthan to me, 'I could give heaven for him,'--the rest I rather guessedfrom the motion of her lips than from any sound,--'but I cannot ask himto give the world for me.'
"'Will you write the letter?' I asked.
"'No.'--She said the word with evident effort, and then, still moreslowly, 'I will give you a message. Say "I implore you never to write meagain,--to forget me. I beseech of you not to try me by any fartherappeals, as I shall but return them unopened."' I wrote down the wordsas she spoke them. 'This is well,' I said when she finished; 'but it isnot enough. I must have the letter.'
"'The letter?' she said. 'What need of a letter? surely that issufficient.'
"'I do not mean your letter. I mean his,--the one which you hold in yourhands.'
"'This?' she queried, looking down on it,--'this?'
"I thought the repetition senseless and affected, but I answered,'Yes,--that. He will not believe you are in earnest if you keep hisavowal of love. You must give him up entirely. If you let me send thatback, with your words, he shall never--at least from me--have clew orreason for your conduct. That will close the whole affair.'
"'Close the whole affair,' she repeated after me, mechanically,--'closethe whole affair.'
"I was getting heartily tired of this, and had no desire to listen to anecho conversation; so, without answering, I stretched out my hand forit. She held it towards me, then drew it back and raised it to her heartwith the same gesture I had marked when she first opened it,--a gestureas I said, of that, which was less of a caress than a spasm. Indeed, Ithink now that it was wholly physical and involuntary. Then she handedit to me, and, motioning towards the door, said, 'Go!'
"I rose, and, infamous as I thought her past deceit, wearied as I waswith the interview, small claim as she had upon me for the slightestconsideration, I said 'You have done well, Miss Ercildoune! I commendyou for your sensible decision, and for your ability, if late, toappreciate the situation. I wish you all success in life, I am sure;and, permit me to add, a future union with one of your own race, if thatwill bring you happiness.'
"Heavens! what a face and what eyes she turned upon me as, rising, sheonce more pointed to the door, and cried, 'Go!' And indeed I went,--thegirl actually frightened me.
"When I got on to the lawn, I missed my bag and parasol, and had toreturn for them. I opened the door with some slight trepidation, but hadno need for fear. She was lying prostrate upon the floor, as I saw oncoming near, in a dead faint. She had evidently fallen so suddenly andwith such force as to have hurt herself; her head had struck against anornament of the bookcase, near which she had been standing; and a littlestream of blood was trickling from her temple. It made me sick to beholdit. As I looked at her where she lay, I could not but pity her a little,and think what a merciful fate it would be for her, and such as she, ifthey could all die,--and so put an end to what, I presume, though Inever before thought of it, is really a very hard existence.
"It was no time, however, to sentimentalize. I rang for a servant, and,having waited till one came, took my leave.
"Of course all this is very shocking and painful, but I am glad I came.The matter is ended now in a satisfactory manner. I think it has beenwell done. Let us both keep our counsel, and the affair will soonbecome a memory with us, as it is nothing with every one else.
"Always your loving sister,
"AUGUSTA."
* * * * *
It is better to be silent upon some themes than to say too little. Wordswould fail to express the emotions with which Willie read this history:let silence and imagination tell the tale.
Flinging down the paper with a passionate cry, he saw yet anotherletter,--the one in which these had been enfolded,--a letter written tohim, and by Mrs. Russell. As by a flash, he perceived that there hadbeen some blunder here, by which he was the gainer; and, partly atleast, comprehended it.
These two, mother and aunt, fearing the old fire had not yet burned toashes,--nay, from their knowledge of him, sure of it,--hearing naught ofhis illness, for he did not care to distress them by any accountthereof, were satisfied that he had either met, or was remaining tocompass a meeting, with Miss Ercildoune. His mother had not the courage,or the baseness, to write such a letter as that to which Mrs. Russellurged her,--a letter which should degrade his love in his own eyes, andrecall him from an unworthy pursuit. "Very well!" Mrs. Russell had thensaid, "It will be better from you; it will look more like unwarrantedinterference from me; but I will write, and you shall send anaccompanying line. Let me have it to-morrow."
The next morning Mrs. Surrey was not well enough to drive out, and thussent her note by a servant, enclosing with it the letter of June27th,--thinking that her sister might want it for reference. When itreached Mrs. Russell, it was almost mail-time, and with the simplethought, "So,--Laura has written it, after all," she enclosed it in herown, and sent it off, post-haste; not even looking at the unsealedenvelope, as Mrs. Surrey had taken for granted she would, and thusfailing to know of its double contents.
Thus the very letter which they would have compassed land and sea tohave prevented coming under his eyes, unwisely yet most fortunately keptin existence, was sent by themselves to his hands.
Without pausing to read a line of that which his aunt had written him,he tore it into fragments, flung it into the empty grate; and, boundingdown the stairs and on to the street, plunged into a carriage and waswhirled away, all too slowly, to the home he had left but a little spacebefore with such widely, such painfully different emotions.