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CHAPTER VI
AUNT ANGELICA
The first changes referred especially to Hyde's life, and were notaltogether approved by him. His pretence of reading law had to beabandoned, for he had promised to remain at home with his mother, andit would not therefore be possible for him to dawdle about Pearl Streetand Maiden Lane watching for Cornelia. But he had that happy andfortunate temper that trusts to events; and also, he soon began torealize that if circumstances alter cases, they also alter feelings.
For, looking upon Hyde Manor as the future home of himself and hiswife--and that wife, happily, Cornelia--he found it very easy to takean almost eager interest in all that concerned its welfare and beauty."How good! How unselfish he is!" thought his mother. "Never before hashe been so ready to listen and so willing to please me." But, really,the work soon became delightful to him. The passion for land and forits improvement--the ruling passion of an Englishman--was not absent inGeorge; it was only latent, and the idea of home, of his own personalhome, developed it with amazing rapidity. He was soon able to makeexcellent suggestions to his mother; for her ideas, beautiful enough inthe cultivation of flat surfaces, did not embody the granderpossibilities of the higher lands near the river. But George saw everyadvantage, and with great ability directed his little gang of labourersamong the rocks and woody crags of the yet unplanted wilderness.
In spite of their anxiety about the General, in spite of George'slonging to see Cornelia, these early summer days, with their glory ofsunshine and shade and their miracles of growth, were very happy days;though madame reached her happiness by putting the future quite out ofher thoughts, and George reached his by anticipating the future as thefruition of the present. Never since his early boyhood had madame andher son been so near and so dear to each other; for herbrother-in-law's probable death and her husband's dangerous journeyingreleased her from social engagements, and permitted her to spend hertime in the employments and the companionship she loved best of all.
George, while accepting for himself the same partial seclusion, hadmore freedom. He rode into town three or four times every week; got thenews of the clubs and the streets; loitered about Maiden Lane and theshopping district; and when disappointed and vexed at events went tohis Grandmother Van Heemskirk for sympathy. For, as yet, he hesitatedabout naming Cornelia to his mother. He was sure she was aware of hispassion, and her reticence on the subject made him fear she was goingto advocate the fulfilment of his father's promise. And he had such asingular delicacy about the girl he loved that he could not endure thethought of bandying her name about in an angry discussion. Added tothis fine sense was an adoring love for his mother. She was in anxietyenough, and would be, until she heard of her husband's safety; why,then, should he add his anxiety to hers?
Yet he was not happy about Cornelia. Since that unfortunate morning atRichmond Hill they had never met. If she saw him go up or down MaidenLane, she made no sign. Several times Arenta's face at her parlourwindow had given him a passing hope; but Arenta's own love affairs werejust then at a very interesting point; and, besides, she regarded theyoung Lieutenant's admiration for her friend as only one of his manytransient enthusiasms.
"If there was anything real in it," she reflected, "Cornelia would havetalked about him; and that she has never done." Then she began toremember, with pride, the very sensible behaviour of her own lover. "MyAthanase," she reflected, "did not give me an hour's rest until we wereengaged. He insisted on talking to father about our marriagesettlements and our future--in fact, he made of love a thing possibleand practical. A lover like Joris Hyde is not, I think, very fortunate."
She did not understand that the quality of love in its finestrevelation desires, after its first sweet inception, a little period ofwithdrawal--it wonders at its strange happiness--broods over it--isfearful of disturbing emotions so exquisite--prefers the certainty ofits delicious suspense to a more definite understanding, and finds akeen strange delight in its own poignant anxieties and hopes. These arethe birth pangs of an immortal love--of a love that knows withinitself, that it is born for Eternity, and need not to hurry thethree-score-and-ten years of time to a consummation.
Of such noble lineage was the love of Cornelia for Joris Hyde. Hisgracious, beautiful youth, seemed a part of her own youth; his ardent,tender glances had filled her heart with a sweet trouble that she didnot understand. It was the most natural thing in the world that sheshould wish to be apart; that she should desire to brood over feelingsso strangely happy; and that in this very brooding they should grow tothe perfect stature of a luminous and unquenchable affection.
Joris was moved by a sentiment of the same kind, though in a lesserdegree. The masculine desire to obtain, and the delightfulconsciousness that he possessed, at least, the tremendous advantage ofasking for the love he craved, roused him from the sweet torpor towhich delicious, dreamy love had inclined him.
"I have thought of Cornelia long enough," he said one delightful summermorning; "with all my soul I now long to see her. And it is not animpossible thing I desire. In short, there is some way to compass it."Then a sudden, invincible persuasion of success came to him; hebelieved in his own good fortune; he had a conviction that the verystars connived with a true lover to work his will. And under thisenthusiasm he galloped into town, took his horse to a stable, and thenwalked towards Maiden Lane.
In a few moments he saw Arenta Van Ariens. She was in a mist of blueand white, with flowing curls, and fluttering ribbons; and a generalair of happiness. He placed himself directly in her path, and doffedhis beaver to the ground as she approached.
"Well, then," she cried, with an affected air of astonishment, "whowould have thought of seeing you? Your retirement is the talk of thetown."
"And pray what does the town say?"
"Some part of it says you have lost your fortune at cards; another partsays you have lost your heart and got no compensation for it. 'Tisstrange to see the folly of young people of this age," she added, witha little pretended sigh of superior wisdom.
"As if you, also, had not lost your heart!" exclaimed Hyde.
"No, sir! I have exchanged mine for its full value. Where are yougoing?"
"With you."
"In a word, no. For I am going to Aunt Angelica's."
"Upon my honour, it is to your Aunt Angelica's I desire to go most ofall!"
"Now I understand. You have found out that Cornelia Moran is goingthere. Are you still harping on that string? And Cornelia never saidone word to me. I do not approve of such deceit. In my love affairs Ihave always been open as the day."
"I assure you that I did NOT know Miss Moran was going there. I had nota thought of Madame Jacobus until we met. To tell the very truth, Icame into town to look for you."
"For me? And why, pray?"
"I want to see Miss Moran. If I cannot see her, then I want to hearabout her. I thought you, of all people, could tell me the most and thebest. I assured myself that you had infinite good temper. Now, pray donot disappoint me."
"Listen! We meet this afternoon at my aunt's, to discuss the dressesand ceremonies proper for a very fine wedding."
"For your own wedding, in fact--Is not that so?"
"Well, then?"
"Well, then, who knows more on that subject than Joris Hyde? Was I not,last year, at Lady Betty Somer's splendid nuptials; and at FannyPaget's, and the Countess of Carlisle's? Indeed, I maintain that insuch a discussion _I_ am an absolute necessity. And I wish to knowMadame Jacobus. I have long wished to know her. Upon my honour, I thinkher to be one of the most interesting women in New York!"
"I will advise you a little. Save your compliments until you can saythem to my aunt. I never carry a word to any one."
"Then take me with you, and I will repeat them to her face."
"So? Well, then, here we are, at her very door. I know not what shewill say--you must make your own excuses, sir."
As she was speaking, they ascended the white steps leading to a veryhandsome brick house on the west side of Broadw
ay. It had wide ironpiazzas and a fine shady garden at the back, sloping down to the riverbank; and had altogether, on the outside, the very similitude of awealthy and fashionable residence. The door was opened by a very darkman, who was not a negro, and who was dressed in a splendid andoutlandish manner--a scarlet turban above his straight black hair, andgold-hooped earrings, and a long coat or tunic, heavily embroidered instrange devices.
"He was an Algerine pirate," whispered Arenta. "My Uncle Jacob broughthim here--and my aunt trusts him--I would not, not for a moment."
As soon as the front door closed, Joris perceived that he was in anunusual house. The scents and odours of strange countries floated aboutit. The hall contained many tall jars, full of pungent gums and roots;and upon its walls the weapons of savage nations were crossed in idleand harmless fashion. They went slowly up the highly polished stairwayinto a large, low parlour, facing the vivid, everyday business drama ofBroadway; but the room itself was like an Arabian Night's dream, forthe Eastern atmosphere was supplemented by divans and sofas coveredwith rare cashmere shawls, and rugs of Turkestan, and with cushions ofall kinds of oriental splendour. Strange tables of wonderful mosaicwork held ivory carvings of priceless worth; and porcelain from unknownlands. Gods and goddesses from the yellow Gehenna of China and theutterable idolatry of India, looked out with brute cruelty, orsempiternal smiles from every odd corner; or gazed with a fascinatingprescience from the high chimney-piece upon all who entered.
The effect upon Hyde was instantaneous and uncanny. His Saxon-Dutchnature was in instant revolt against influences so foreign andunnatural. Arenta was unconsciously in sympathy with him; for she saidwith a shrug of her pretty shoulders, as she looked around, "I havealways bad dreams after a visit to this room. Do these things have alife of their own? Look at the creature on that corner shelf! What aserene disdain is in his smile! He seems to gaze into the very depthsof your soul. I see that there is a curtain to his shrine; and I shalltake leave to draw it." With these words she went to the scornfuldivinity, and shut his offending eyes behind the folds of hisgold-embroidered curtain.
Hyde watched her flitting about the strange room, and thought of alittle brown wren among the poisonous, vivid splendours of tropicalswamp flowers. So out of place the pretty, thoughtless Dutch girllooked among the spoils of far India, and Central America, and ofArabian and African worship and workmanship. But when the door opened,and Madame Jacobus, with soft, gliding footsteps entered, Hydeunderstood how truly the soul, if given the wherewithal, builds thehabitation it likes best. Once possessed of marvellous beauty, and yetextraordinarily interesting, she seemed the very genius of the room andits strange, suggestive belongings. She was unusually tall, and herfigure had kept its undulating, stately grace. Her hair, dazzlinglywhite, was piled high above her ample brow, held in place with jewelledcombs and glittering pins. Her face had lost its fine oval and youthfulfreshness, but who of any feeling or intelligence would not have farpreferred the worn countenance, expressing in a thousand sensitiveshades and emotions the story of her life and love? And if every otherbeauty had failed, Angelica's eyes would have atoned for the loss. Theywere large, softly-black, slow-moving, or again, in a moment, flashingwith the fire that lay hidden in the dark pit of the iris.
It was said that her slaves adored her, and that no man who came withinher influence had been able to resist her power--no man, perhaps, butCaptain Jacobus; and he had not resisted, he had been content toexercise over her a power greater than her own. He had made her hiswife; he had lavished on her for ten years the spoils of the fourquarters of the world; and his worship of her had only been equalled byher passionate attachment to him. Ten years of love, and then partingand silence--unbroken silence. Yet she still insisted that he wasalive, and would certainly come back to her. With this faith in herheart, she had refused to put on any symbol of loss or mourning. Shekept his fine house open, his room ready, and herself constantlyadorned for his home-coming. Society, which insists on uniformity, didnot approve of this unreasonable hope. It expected her to adopt thegarments of widowhood for a time, and then make a match in accordancewith the great fortune Captain Jacobus had left her. But AngelicaJacobus was a law unto herself; and society was compelled to take herwith those apologizing shrugs it gives to whatever is original andindividual.
She came in with a smile of welcome. She was always pleased that herfine home should be seen by those strange to it; and perhaps wasparticularly pleased that General Hyde's son should be her visitor. Andas Joris was determined to win her favour, there was an almostinstantaneous birth of good-will.
"Let me kiss your hand, madame," said the handsome young fellow,lifting the jewelled fingers in his own. "I have heard that my fatherhad once that honour. Do not put me below him;" and with the words hetouched with his warm lips the long white fingers.
Her laugh rang merrily through the dim room, and she answered--"You areDick Hyde's own son--nothing else. I see that"--and she drew the youngman towards the light and looked with a steady pleasure into hissmiling face as she asked--
"What brought you here this morning, sir?"
"Madame, I have heard my father speak of you; I have seen you; can youwonder that I desired to know you? This morning I met Miss Van Ariens,and when she said she was coming here, I found myself unable to resistthe temptation of coming with her."
"Let me tell you something, aunt. I think Lieutenant Hyde can be ofgreat service to us. He took part in several noble English weddingslast year, and he offers his advice in our consultation to-day."
"But where is Cornelia? I thought she would come with you."
"She will be here in a few minutes. I saw her half-an-hour ago."
"What a beautiful girl she has become!" said madame.
"She is an angel," said Hyde.
Angelica laughed. "The man who calls a woman an angel has never had anysisters," she answered; "but, however, she has beauty enough to setyoung hearts ablaze. I like the girl, and I wonder not that others dothe same."
Even as she spoke Cornelia entered. There was a little flush and hurryon her face; but oh, how innocent and joyous it was! Quick-glancing,sweetly smiling, she entered the musky, scented parlour, and in herwhite robe and white hat stood like a lily in its light and gloom. Andwhen she turned to Hyde an ineffable charm and beauty illumed hercountenance. "How glad I am to see you!" she said, and the very ring ofgladness was in her voice. "And how strange that we should meet here!"
"That is so," replied Madame Jacobus. "One can never see where thesecond little bird comes from."
"Am I late, madame? Surely your clock is wrong."
"My clock is never wrong, Cornelia, A Dutch clock will always go justabout so. Come, now, sit down, and let us talk of such follies asweddings and wedding gowns."
In this conversation Hyde triumphantly redeemed his promise ofassistance. He could describe with a delightful accuracy--orinaccuracy--the lovely toilets and pretty accessories of the highEnglish wedding feasts of the previous year. And in some subtle way hethrew into these descriptions such a glamour of romance, suchbackgrounds of old castles and chiming bells, of noble dames glitteringwith gems, and village maids scattering roses, of martial heroes, andrejoicing lovers, all moving in an atmosphere of song and sunshine,that the little party sat listening, entranced, with sympathetic eyesdrinking in his wonderful descriptions.
Madame Jacobus was the first to interrupt these pretty reminiscences."All this is very fine," she said, "but the most of it is no good forus. The satin and the lace and even the gems, we can have; the musiccan be somehow managed, and we shall not make a bad show as to love andbeauty. But castles and lords and military pomp, and old cathedralshung with battle flags-- Such things are not to be had here, and, inplain truth, they are not necessary for the wedding of a simple maidlike our Arenta."
"You forget, then, that my Athanase is of almost royal descent," saidArenta. "A very old family are the Tounnerres--older, indeed, than theroyal Capets."
"No one is to-day so poor as to e
nvy the royal Capets; and as for anancient family, Captain Jacobus used to speak of his forefathers as'the old fellows whom the flood could not wash away.' Jacobus alwaysput his ideas in such clear, forcible words. What I want to know isthis--where is the ceremony to be performed?"
"The civil ceremony is to be at the French Embassy," answered Arentawith some pride.
"Is that all there is to it?"
"Aunt! How could you imagine that I should be satisfied with a civilceremony? My father also insists upon a religious ceremony; and myAthanase told him he was willing to marry me in every church inAmerica. I am not Gertrude Kippon! No, indeed! I insist on everythingbeing done in a moral and respectable manner. My father spoke of DoctorKunz for the religious part."
"I like not Doctor Kunz," answered madame. "Bishop Provoost and theEpiscopal service is the proper thing. Doctor Kunz will be sure to saysome sharp words--his tongue is full of them--he stands too stiff--hedoes not use his hands gracefully--his walk and carriage is notdignified--and he looks at you through spectacles--and I, for one, donot like to be looked at through spectacles. We must decide for theEpiscopal church."
"And the little trip after it," continued Arenta. "Lieutenant Hyde saysthat, in England, it is now the proper thing."
"But in America it is not the proper thing. It is a rude unmannerly wayto run off with a bride. We are not red Indians, nor is the Marquiscarrying you by force from some hostile tribe. The nuptial trip is abarbarism. I am now weary. Lieutenant, take Miss Moran and show her mygarden. I tell you, it is worth walking through; and when you have seenthe flowers, Arenta and I will give you a cup of tea."
Arenta would gladly have gone into the garden also, but her auntdetained her. "Can you not see," she asked, "that those two are in lovewith each other? Give love its hour. They do not want your company."
"And for that very reason I wish to go with them. My brother is in lovewith Cornelia, and I am for Rem, and not for a stranger--also, myfather and Cornelia's father are both for Rem; and, besides, DoctorMoran hates the Hydes. He will not let Cornelia marry the man."
"HE WILL NOT LET! When did Doctor John become omnipotent? Love laughsat fathers, as well as at locksmiths. And if Doctor John is againstyoung Hyde, then I shall the more cheerfully be for him--a pleasant,handsome youth as ever I saw, is he; and Doctor John--well, he isneither pleasant nor handsome."
"Aunt Angelica! I am astonished at you! Every one will contradict whatyou say."
"For that reason, I will maintain it. It is not my way to shout withthe multitude."
With some hesitation, yet quite carried away by Hyde's personal longingand impulse, Cornelia went into the garden with her lover. It was agreen, shady place, full of great maple-trees and flowering vines andshrubs, and patches of green grass. All kinds of sweet old-fashionedflowers grew there, mingling their scent with the strawberries' perfumeand the woody odours of the ripening cherries. They were alone in thislovely place; the high privet hedges hid them from the outside world,and the babble and rumble of Broadway came to them only as the murmurof noise in a dream. Speechless with joy, Hyde clasped Cornelia'sslender fingers, and they went together down the few broad low stepswhich led them into the green shadows of the trees. How soft was thegrassy turf! How exquisite the westering sunlight, sifting through themaple leaves! They looked into each other's eyes and smiled, but weretoo happy to speak. For they had suddenly come into that land, which iseast of the sun, and west of the moon; that land not laid down on anychart, but which we feel to be our rightful heritage.
Slowly, as they stepped, they came at length to a little summerhouse.It was covered with a thick jessamin vine; and the mysterious,languorous perfume of its starlike flowers filled the narrowresting-place with the very atmosphere of love. They sat down there,and in a few moments the seal was broken and Hyde's heart found out allthe sweetest words that love could speak. Cornelia trembled; sheblushed, she smiled, she suffered herself to be drawn close to hisside; and, at last, in some sweet, untranslatable way, she gave him theassurance of her love. Then they found in delicious silence theeloquence that words were incompetent to translate; time was forgotten,and on earth there was once more an interlude of heavenly harmony inwhich two souls became one and Paradise was regained.
Arenta's voice, petulant and not pleasant, broke the charm. With a sighthey rose, dropped each other's hand, and went out of their heaven onearth to meet her.
"Tea is waiting," she said, "and Rem is waiting, and my aunt is tired,and you two have forgotten that the clock moves." Then they laughed,and laughter is always fatal to feeling; the magical land of love wassuddenly far away, and there was the sound of china, and the heavytones of Rem's voice--dissatisfied, if not angry--and Arenta's lighterfret; and they stood once more among fetishes and forms so foreign,fabulous and fantastical, that it was difficult to pass from the landof love, and all its pure delights, into their atmosphere.
It would have been harder but for Madame Jacobus. She understood; andshe sympathized; and there was a kindly element in her nature whichdisposed her to side with the lovers. Her smile,--quick and short as aflash of the eyes--revealed to Hyde her intention of favour, andwithout one spoken word, these two knew themselves to be of the samemind. And, in parting, she held his hand while she talked, saying atlast the very words he longed to hear--
"We shall expect you again on Thursday, Lieutenant. Everything is yetundecided, and the work you have begun, it is right that you shouldfinish."
He answered only, "Thank you, madame!" but he accompanied the wordswith a look which asked so much, and confessed so much, that madamefelt herself to be a silent confidante and a not unwilling accomplice.And when she had closed the door on her guests, she acknowledged it."But then," she whispered, "I always did dearly love a lover; and thispromises to be a love affair that will need my help--plenty of goodhonest hatred for it to combat--and wealth and rank and all sorts ofconflicting conditions to get the better of--Well, then, my help isready. In plain truth, I don't like such perfection as Doctor John; andmy nephew Rem is not interesting. He is sulky, and Hyde isgood-tempered, just like his father, too; and there never was a morefascinating man than Dick Hyde. HE-HO! I remember!--I remember!--andyet I dare say Dick has forgotten my very name--this is a marriage thatwill exactly suit me--I don't care who is against it!" Then she saidsoftly to herself--
"REM went to Cornelia as they were about to leave, and he reminded herthat, by her permission, he had come to walk home with her.
"CORNELIA turned to Hyde, excused herself, and, cool and silent, tookher place by Rem's side.
"HYDE accepted the position with a smile, and a gracious bow, and thenjoined Arenta.
"ARENTA was far less agreeable than she ought to have been; for bothshe and her brother had a kind of divination. They knew, in spite ofappearances, that Rem had not got the best of Joris Hyde. I am quick inmy observations, and I know this is so. Well then, it is a veryinteresting affair as it stands--and it is like to grow far moreinteresting. I am not opposed to that. I shall enjoy it. Hyde andCornelia ought to marry--and they have my good wishes."
As for Hyde, no thought that could mar the sweetness and joy of thisfortunate hour came into his mind. Neither Rem's evident hatred, norArenta's disapproval, nor yet Cornelia's silence, troubled him. He hadwithin his heart a talisman that made everything propitious. And he wasso joyous that the people whom he passed on the street caught happinessfrom him. Men and women alike turned to look after the youth, for theyfelt the virtue of his passing presence, and wondered what it mightmean. Even the necessary parting from Cornelia was only a phase of thiswonderful gladness; for Love never fails of his token, and, thoughArenta's sharp eyes could not discover it, Hyde received the silentmessage that was meant for him, and for him only. That one thought madehis heart bound and falter with its exquisite delight--for himonly--for him only, was that swift but certain assurance; thatinstantaneous bright flash of love that held in it all heaven andearth, and left him, as he told himself again and again, the happiestman i
n all the world.
He was hardly responsible for his actions at this hour; for when aswift gallop brought him to the Van Heemskirk house, he quiteunconsciously struck the door some rapid, forceful blows, with hisriding whip. His grandfather opened it with an angry face.
"I thought it was thee," he said. "Now, then, in such lordly fashion,whom didst thou summon? dog or slave, was it?"
"Oh, grandfather, I intended no harm. Did I strike so hard? Upon myword, I meant it not."
At this moment Madame Van Heemskirk came quickly forward. She turned aface of disapproval on her husband, and asked sharply, "Why dost thoucomplain?"
"I like not my house-door struck so rudely, Lysbet. No man in allAmerica, but Joris Hyde, would dare to do it."
At these words Joris flung himself from his horse and clasped hisgrandfather's hand. "I did wrong," he said warmly; "but I am besidemyself with happiness; and I thought of nothing but telling you. Myheart was in such a hurry that my hands forgot how to behavethemselves."
"So happy as that, art thou? Good! Come in, and tell us what hashappened to thee."
But Lysbet divined the joy in her grandson's face; and she said softlyas he seated himself at the open window where his grandfather's chairwas placed--
"It is Cornelia?"
"Yes, it is Cornelia. She loves me! The most charming girl the sun evershone upon loves me. It is incredible! It is amazing! I cannot believein my good fortune. Will you assure me it is possible? I want to hearsome one say so--and who is there but my grandfather and you? I do notlike to tell my mother, just yet. What do you say?"
"I say that thou hast chosen a good girl for a wife. God bless thee,"answered Lysbet with great emotion.
Van Heemskirk smiled, but was silent; and Hyde stooped forward, gentlymoved his long pipe away from his lips, and said, "Grandfather, speak,You know Cornelia Moran?"
"I have seen her. With thee I saw her--walking with thee--dancing withthee. A great beauty I thought her. Thy grandmother says she is good.Well, then, the love of a good, beautiful girl, is something to be gladover. Not twice in a lifetime comes such great fortune. But make up thymind to expect much opposition. Doctor John and thy father were everunfriends. Thy father has other plans for thee; Cornelia's father hasdoubtless other plans for her. Few men can stand against Doctor John;he has the word, and the way, to carry all before him. I know not howthe little Cornelia can dare to disobey him."
"She has said 'yes' to me; and, before heaven and earth, she will standby it."
"Say that much. And of thyself, art thou sure?"
"Why art thou throwing cold water on such sweet hopes?" said Lysbet toher husband.
"Because, when love flames beyond duty and honour and all expediences,Lysbet, some one a little cold water ought to throw. And THOU will notdo it. No! Rather, would thou add fuel to the flame."
"I know not what you mean, sir," said Hyde, vaguely troubled by hisgrandfather's words.
"I think thou knowest well what I mean. Thy father has told thee thatthy duty and thy honour are pledged to Annie Hyde."
"I never pledged! Never!"
"But, as in thy baptism thy father made vows for thee, so also for thymarriage he made promises. Noble birth has responsibility, as well asprivilege. For thyself alone it is not permitted thee to live, fromboth the past and the future there are demands on thee."
"Grandfather, this living for the future is the curse of the Englishland-owners. They enjoy not the present, for they are busy taking careof the years they will never see. Their sons are in their way; it istheir grandsons and their great-grandsons that interest them. Whyshould my father plan for my marriage? He may be Earl Hyde for twentyyears--and I hope he will. For twenty years Cornelia and I can be happyhere in America; and twenty years is a great opportunity. Everythingcan happen in twenty years. Of one thing I am sure--I will marryCornelia Moran, even if I run away with her to the ends of the earth."
"'Run away with her.' To be sure! That is in the blood;" and the oldman looked sternly back to the days when Hyde's father ran away withhis own little daughter.
With some anger Lysbet answered his thoughts. "What art thou talkingabout? What art thou thinking of? Many good men have run away withtheir wives. This almighty Doctor John ran away with his wife. Did notAva Willing leave her father's house and her friends and her faith forhim? And did not the Quakers read her out of their Meeting for hermarriage?--and I blame them not. Doctor John was no match for AvaWilling. More, too, if thou must look back; remember one May night,when thou and I sat by the Collect in the moonlight, and thou gave methis ring. What did thou say to me that night?"
"'Tis years ago, Lysbet, and If I have forgotten--"
"Forgotten! Well, then, men do forget; but they may be thankful thatGod has so made women that they do NOT forget. The words thou said thatnight have been singing in my heart for fifty years; and yet, if thoumust be told, some of those words were about RUNNING AWAY WITHTHEE;--for, at the first, my father liked thee not."
"Lysbet! My sweet Lysbet! I have not forgotten. For thy dear sake Iwill stand by Joris, though in doing so I am sure I shall make someunfriends."
"Good, my husband. I take leave to say that thou art doing right."
"Well, then," said Hyde, "if my grandmother stand by me, and you also,sir; and also Madame Jacobus--"
"Madame Jacobus!" cried Lysbet.
"Yes, indeed!" answered Hyde. "'Tis to her understanding and kindness Iowe my opportunity; and she gave me, also, one look which I cannotpretend to misunderstand--a look of clear sympathy--a look thatpromised help."
"She is a clever woman," said Van Heemskirk. "If Joris has her goodwill it is not to be thrown away."
"I like her not," said Lysbet. "With my grandson, with my affairs, whyshould she meddle? Pray, now, what took thee, Joris, to her house? Itis full of idolatries and graven images. Doctor Kunz once wrote to hera letter about them. He said she ought to remember the SecondCommandment. And she wrote to him a letter, and told him to troublehimself with his own business. Much anger and shame there might havebeen out of this, but Angelica Jacobus is rich, and she is generous tothe church, and to the poor; and Doctor Kunz said to the elders, 'Lether alone, for there is a savour of righteousness in her;' and when sheheard of that, she was pleased with the Doctor, and sent him onehundred dollars for the Indian Mission. But, Joris, she is no good tothee. I hear many queer stories of her."
"Downright lies, all of them," replied Hyde. Then he rose, saying, "Imust ride onward. My mother will not sleep until she sees me."
"It is nearly dark," said Van Heemskirk, "and to-night thou art in theclouds. The land and the water will be alike to thee. Rest until themorning."
"I fear not the dark. I know the road by night or by day."
"Yet, even so, mind what I tell thee--if thou ride in the dark, be notwiser than thy beast."
Then they walked with him to the door, and watched him leap to hissaddle and ride into the twilight trembling over the misty meadows,trickling with dews. And a great melancholy fell over them, and theycould not resume the conversation. Joris re-lit his pipe, and Lysbetwent softly and thoughtfully about her household duties. It was one ofthose hours in which Life distills for us her vague melancholy wine;and Joris and Lysbet drank deeply of it.
The moon was in its third day, and the silent crescent has no calmerand sweeter time; yet Joris it inclined to a sad presentiment. "In myheart there is a fear, Lysbet," he said softly. "I think our boy hasgone a road he will dearly rue. I foresee disputing, and woundedhearts, and lives made barren by many disappointed hopes."
"Nothing of the kind," answered Lysbet cheerfully. "Our little Joris isso happy to-night, why wilt thou think evil for him? To think evil isto bring evil. Out of foolishness or perchance such a great love hasnot come. No, indeed! That it comes from heaven I am sure; and toheaven I will leave its good fortune."
"Pleasant are thy hopes, Lysbet; but, too often, vain and foolish."
"Thy reasoning, is it any wiser? No. Often I have fo
und it wrong. Onething the years have said to me, it is this--'Lysbet put not thyjudgment in the place of Providence. If thou trust Providence, thouhast the easy heart of a child of God; if thou trust to thine ownjudgment, thou hast the troubled heart of an anxious woman.'"