The Maid of Maiden Lane Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  TWO PROPOSALS

  The ruling idea of any mind assumes the foreground of thought; andafter Arenta's marriage the dominant desire of George Hyde was to havehis betrothal to Cornelia recognized and assured. He was in haste tolight his own nuptial torch, and afraid every day of that summons toEngland which would delay the event. Hitherto, both had been satisfiedwith the delicious certainty of their own hearts. To bring Love todiscussion and catechism, to talk of Love in connection with house andmoney matters, to put him into bonds, however light those bonds mightbe, was indeed a safe and prudent thing for their future happiness;but, so far, the present with its sweet freedom and uncertainty hadbeen more charming to their imagination. Suddenly, however, Hyde feltthe danger and stress of this uncertainty and the fear of losing whathe appeared to hold so lightly.

  "I may have to go away with mother at any time--I may be detained byevents I cannot help--and I have not bound Cornelia to me by anypersonal recognized tie--and Rem Van Ariens will be ever near her. Oh,indeed, this state of affairs will never do! I will write to Corneliathis very moment and tell her I must see her father this evening. Icannot possibly delay it longer. I have been a fool--a careless, happyfool--too long. There is not now a day to lose. I have already wastedmore time than was reasonable over the love affairs of other people;now I must look after my own. Safe bind, safe find; I will bindCornelia to me before I leave her, then I have a good right to find hersafe when I return to claim her."

  While such thoughts were passing through his mind he had risen hastilyfrom the chair in which he had been musing. He opened his secretary andsitting resolutely down, began a letter to Doctor Moran. He poured outhis heart and desires, and then he read what he had written. It wouldnot do at all. It was a love letter and not a business letter. He wroteanother, and then another. The first was too long, it left nothing inthe inkstand; the last was not to be thought of. When he had finishedreading them over, he was in a passion with himself.

  "A fool in your teeth twice over, Joris Hyde!" he cried, "yes, sir,three times, and far too good for you! Since you cannot write a decentbusiness letter, write, then, to the adorable Cornelia; the words willbe at your finger ends for that letter, and will slip from your pen asif they were dancing:

  "MY SWEET CORNELIA:

  "I have not seen you for two days, and 'tis a miracle that I haveendured it. I can tell you, beloved, that I am much concerned about ouraffairs, and now that I have begun to talk wisely I may talk a littlemore without wearying you. You know that I may have to go to Englandsoon, and go I will not until I have asked your father what favour hewill show us. On the street, he gets out of my way as if I had theplague. Tell me at what hour I may call and see him in his house. Iwill then ask him point blank for your hand, and he is so candid that Ishall have in a word Yes or No on the matter. Do not keep me waitinglonger than seven this very night. I have a fever of anxiety, and Ishall not grow better, but worse, until I settle our engagement. Oh, mypeerless Cornelia, pearl and flower of womanhood, I speak your speech,I think your thought; you are the noblest thing in my life, and toremember you is to remember the hours when I was the very best and thevery happiest. Your image has become part of me, your memory is aperfume which makes sweet my heart. I wish this moment to give youthousands and thousands of kisses. Bid me come to you soon, very soon,sooner than seven, if possible, for your love is my life. Send youranswer to my city lodging. I shall follow this letter and beimpatiently waiting for it. Oh, Cornelia, am I not ever and entirelyyours?

  "GEORGE HYDE."

  It was not more than eight o'clock in the morning when he wrote thisletter, and as soon as possible he despatched a swift messenger with itto Cornelia. He hoped that she would receive it soon after the Doctorhad left his home for his usual round of professional visits; then shemight possibly write to him at once, and if so, he would get the lettervery soon after he reached the city.

  Probably Madame Hyde divined something of the importance and tenor of amissive sent in such a hurry of anxious love, so early in the day, butshe showed neither annoyance nor curiosity regarding it. In the firstplace, she knew that opposition would only strengthen whatever resolveher son had made; in the second place, she was conscious of a singularrestlessness of her own spirit. She was apprehending change, and shecould think of no change but that call to leave her home and her nativeland which she so much dreaded. If this event happened, then theaffairs of Joris would assume an entirely different aspect. He would beobliged to leave everything which now interested him, and he could notlive without interests; very well, then, he would be compelled toaccept such as a new Fate thrown into his new life. She had a greatfaith in circumstances. She knew that in the long run every one wrotebeneath that potent word, "Your obedient servant." Circumstances wouldeither positively deny all her son's hopes, or they would so powerfullyaid them that opposition would be useless; and she mentally bowedherself to an influence so powerful and perhaps so favourable.

  "Joris, my dear one," she said, as they rose from the breakfast table;"Joris, I think there is a letter from your father. To the city youmust go as soon as you can, for I have had a restless night, full offeeling it has been."

  "You should not go to bed to feel, mother. Night is the time for sleep."

  "And for dreams, and for many good things to come, that come not in theday. Yes, indeed, the nighttime of the body is the daytime of the soul."

  Then Joris smiled and kissing her, said, "I am going at once. If thereis a letter I will send a quick rider with it."

  "But come thyself."

  "That I cannot." "But why, then?"

  "To-morrow, I will tell you."

  "That is well. Into thy mother's heart drop all thy joys and sorrows.Thine are mine." And she kissed him, and he went away glad and hopefuland full of tender love for the mother who understood him sosympathetically. He stood up in his stirrups to wave her a last adieu,and then he said to himself, "How fortunate I am about women! Could Ihave a sweeter, lovelier mistress? No! Mother? No! Grandmother? No!Friend? No! Cornelia, mother, grandmother, Madame Jacobus, all of themjust what I love and need, sweet souls between me and the angels."

  It happened--but doubtless happened because so ordered--that the veryhour in which Joris left Hyde Manor, Peter Van Ariens received a letterthat made him very anxious. He left his office and went to see his son."Rem," he said, "there is now an opportunity for thee. Here has come aletter from Boston, and some one must go there; and that too in a greathurry. The house of Blume and Otis is likely to fail, and in it we havesome great interests. A lawyer we must have to look after them; gothyself, and it shall be well for both of us."

  "I am ready to go--that is, I can be ready in one or two days."

  "There are not one or two days to spare. Gerard will take care of thywork here. To-day is the best time of all."

  "I cannot go with a happy mind to-day. I will tell you, father. I thinknow my case with Cornelia will bear putting to the question. As youknow, it has been step with step between Joris Hyde and myself in thataffair, and if I go away now without securing the ground I have gained,what can hinder Hyde from taking advantage over me? He too must gosoon, but he will try and secure his position before he leaves. To dothe same thing is my only way. I wish, then, the time to give myselfthis security."

  "That is fair. A man is not a man till he has won a wife. CorneliaMoran is much to my mind. Tell her my home is thine, and she will be amistress dearly loved and honoured. And if a thing is to be done, thereis no time like the hour that has not struck. Go and see her now. Shewas in the garden gathering asters when I left home this morning."

  "I will write to her. I will tell her what is in my heart--though sheknows it well--and ask her for her love and her hand. If she is kind tomy offer she will tell me to come and see her to-night, then I can goto Boston with a free heart and look after your money and yourbusiness."

  "If things be this way, thou art reasonable. A good wife must not belost for the peril of some gold sov
ereigns. At once write to the maid;such letters are best done at the first thought, some prudences or somefears may come with the second thoughts."

  "I have no fear but Joris Hyde. That Englishman I hate. His calmconfidence, his smiling insolent air is intolerable."

  "It is the English way. But Cornelia is American--as thou art."

  "She thinks much of that, but yet--"

  "Be not afraid. The brave either find, or make, a way to success. Whatis in a girl's heart no man can tell, if she be cold and shy thatshould not cause thee to doubt. When water is ice, who would suspectwhat great heat is stored away in it? Write thy letter at once. Put thyheart into thy pen. Not always prudent is this way, but once in a man'slife it is wisdom."

  "My pen is too small for my heart."

  "My opinion is that thou hast wavered too long. It is a greatfoolishness to let the cherry knock against the lips too often or toolong. A pretty pastime, perhaps, to will, and not will, to dare, andnot dare; but at last the knock comes that drops the cherry--it may beinto some other mouth."

  "I fear no one but that rascal, Joris Hyde."

  "A rascal he is not, because the same woman he loves as thyself. Suchwords weaken any cause. No wrong have I seen or known of LieutenantHyde."

  "I will call him a rascal, and I will give him no other title, thoughhis father leave him an earl."

  "Now, then, I shall go. I like not ill words. Write thy letter, but putout of thy mind all bad thoughts first. A love letter from a bitterheart is not lucky. And of all thy wit thou wilt have great need if toa woman thou write."

  "Oh, they are intolerable, aching joys! A man who dares to love awoman, or dares to believe in her, dares to be mad."

  "Come, come! No evil must thou speak of good women, I swear that I wasnever out of it yet, when I judged men as they judged women. The art ofloving a woman is the art of trusting her--yes, though the heavensfall. Now, then, haste with thy letter. Thou may have 'Yes' to it erethou sleep to-night."

  "And I may have 'No.'"

  "To be sure, if thou think 'no.' But, even so, if thou lose the weddingring, the hand is still left; another ring may be found."

  "'No,' would be a deathblow to me."

  "It will not. While a man has meat and drink love will not starve him;with world's business and world's pleasure an unkind love he makesshift to forget. Bring to me word of thy good fortune this night, andin the morning there is the Boston business. Longer it can hardly wait."

  But the letter to Cornelia which Hyde found to slip off his pen likedancing was a much more difficult matter to Rem. He wrote anddestroyed, and wrote again and destroyed, and this so often that hefinally resolved to go to Maiden Lane for his inspiration. "I may seeCornelia in the garden, or at the window, and when I see what I desire,surely I shall have the wit to ask for it."

  So he thought, and with the thought he locked his desk and went towardshis home in Maiden Lane. He met George Hyde sauntering up the streetlooking unhappy and restless, and he suspected at once that he had beenwalking past Doctor Moran's house in the hope of seeing Cornelia andhad been disappointed. The thought delighted him. He was willing tobear disappointment himself, if by doing so some of Hyde's smilingconfidence was changed to that unhappy uneasiness which he detected inhis rival's face and manner. The young men bowed to each other but didnot speak. In some occult way they divined a more positive antagonismthan they had ever before been conscious of.

  "I cannot go out of the house," thought Rem, "without meeting that fop.He is in at one door, and out at another; this way, that way, upstreet, and down street--the devil take the fellow!"

  "What a mere sullen creature that Rem Van Ariens is!" thought Hyde,"and with all the good temper in the world I affirm it. I wonder whathe is on the street for at this hour! Shall I watch him? No, that wouldbe vile work. I will let him alone; he may as well play the ill-naturedfool on the street as in the house--better, indeed, for some one mayhave a title to tell him so. But I may assure myself of one thing, whenI met him he was building castles in the future, for he was lookingstraight before him; and if he had been thinking of the past, he wouldhave been looking down. I should not wonder if it was Cornelia thatfilled his dreams. Faith, we have blockheads of all ages; but on thatroad he will never overtake his thought"--then with a movement ofimpatience he added,

  "Why should I let him into my mind?--for he is the least welcome of allintruders.--Good gracious! how long the minutes are! It is plain to methat Cornelia is not at home, and my letter may not even have touchedher hands yet. How shall I endure another hour?--perhaps many hours.Where can she have gone? Not unlikely to Madame Jacobus. Why did I notthink of this before? For who can help me to bear suspense better thanmadame? I will go to her at once."

  He hastened his steps and soon arrived at the well-known residence ofhis friend. He was amazed as soon as the door was opened to findpreparations of the most evident kind for some change. The corded trunkin the hall, the displaced furniture, all things he saw were full ofthe sad hurry of parting. "What is the matter?" he asked in a voice offear.

  "I am going away for a time, Joris, my good friend," answered madame,coming out of a shrouded and darkened parlour as she spoke. She had onher cloak and bonnet, and before Joris could ask her another question acoach drove to the door. "I think it is a piece of good fortune," shecontinued, "to see you before I go."

  "But where are you going?"

  "To Charleston."

  "But why?"

  "I am going because my sister Sabrina is sick--dying; and there is noone so near to her as I am."

  "I knew not you had a sister."

  "She is the sister of my husband. So, then, she is twice my sister.When Jacobus comes home he will thank me for going to his dear Sabrina.But what brings you here so early? Yesterday I asked for you, and I wastold that you were waiting on your good mother."

  "My mother felt sure there was a letter from father, and I came at onceto get it for her."

  "Was there one?"

  "There was none."

  "It will come in good time. Now, I must go. I have not one moment tolose. Good-bye, dear Joris!"

  "For how long, my friend?"

  "I know not. Sabrina is incurably ill. I shall stay with her till shedeparts." She said these words as they went down the steps together,and with eyes full of tears he placed her carefully in the coach andthen turned sorrowfully to his own rooms. He could not speak of his ownaffairs at such a moment, and he realized that there was nothing forhim to do but wait as patiently as possible for Cornelia's answer.

  In the meantime Rem was writing his proposal. He was not assisted inthe effort by any sight of his mistress. It was evident Cornelia wasnot in her home, and he looked in vain for any shadow of the sweet facethat he was certain would have made his words come easily. Finally,after many trials, he desisted with the following, though it was theleast affective of any form he had written:

  To MISS MORAN,

  Honoured and Beloved Friend:

  Twenty times this day I have tried to write a letter worthy to comeinto your hands and worthy to tell you how beyond all words I love you,But what can I say more than that I love you? This you know. It hasbeen no secret to you since ever you were a little girl. Many years Ihave sought your love,--pardon me if now I ask you to tell me I havenot sought in vain. To-morrow I must leave New York, and I may be awayfor some time. Pray, then, give me some hope to-night to take with me.Say but one word to make me the proudest and happiest lover in theworld. Give me the permission to come and show to your father that I amable to maintain you in every comfort that is your right; and all mylife long I will prove to you the devotion that attests my undyingaffection and gratitude. I am sick with longing for the promise of yourlove. May I presume to hope so great a blessing? O dearest Cornelia, Iam, as you know well, your humble servant, REMBRANDT VANARIENS.

  When he had finished this letter, he folded and sealed it, and walkedto the window with it in his hand. Then he saw Cornelia returning homefrom some sho
pping or social errand, and hastily calling a servant,ordered him to deliver the letter at once to Miss Moran. And asCornelia lingered a little among the aster beds, the man put it intoher own hands. She bowed and smiled as she accepted it, but Rem,watching with his heart in his eyes, could see that it awakened nospecial interest. She kept it unopened as she wandered among the purpleand pink, and gold and white flowers, until Mrs. Moran came to the doorto hurry her movements; then she followed her mother hastily into thehouse, "Do you know how late it is, Cornelia? Dinner is nearly ready.There is a letter on your dressing table that came by Lieutenant Hyde'sservant two or three hours ago."

  "And Tobias has just brought me a letter from Rem--at least thedirection is in Rem's handwriting."

  "Some farewell dance I suppose, before our dancers go to gayPhiladelphia."

  "I dare say it is." She made the supposition as she went up the stairs,and did not for a moment anticipate any more important information. Asshe entered her room an imposing looking letter met her eyes--a letterwritten upon the finest paper, squarely folded, and closed with a largeseal of scarlet wax carrying the Hyde arms. Poor Rem's message lostinstantly whatever interest it possessed; she let it fall from herhand, and lifting Hyde's, opened it with that marvellous womanlyimpetuosity which love teaches. Then all the sweet intimate ardour andpassionate disquietude of her lover took possession of her. In a momentshe felt all that he felt; all the ecstasy and tumult of a greataffection not sure. For this letter was the "little more" in Hyde'slove, and, oh, how much it was!

  She pondered it until she was called to dinner. There was then no timeto read Rem's letter, but she broke the seal and glanced at its tenor,and an expression of pity and annoyance came into her eyes. Hastily shelocked both letters away in a drawer of her desk, and as she did so,smilingly said to herself, "I wonder if papers are sensitive! Shutclose together in one little drawer will they like it? I hope they willlie peaceably and not quarrel."

  Doctor Moran was not at home, nor was he expected until sundown, somother and daughter enjoyed together the confidence which Hyde's letterinduced. Mrs. Moran thought the young man was right, and promised, to acertain extent, to favour his proposal. "However, Cornelia," she added,"unless your father is perfectly agreeable and satisfied, I would notadvise you to make any engagement. Clandestine engagements come togrief in some way or other, and if your marriage with Joris Hyde isprearranged by THOSE who know what is best for your good, then, mydear, it is as sure to take place as the sun is sure to rise to-morrow.It is only waiting for the appointed hour, and you may as well wait ina happy home as in one you make wretched by the fret and complainingwhich a secret in any life is certain to produce."

  Now, it is not often that a girl has to answer in one hour two suchepistles as those received by Cornelia. Yet perhaps such an eventoccurs more frequently than is suspected, for Love--like otherthings--has its critical moment; and when that moment arrives it findsa voice as surely as the flower ready to bloom opens its petals. And ifthere be two lovers equally sincere, both are likely to feel at thesame moment the same impetus to revelation. Besides which, Fate of anykind seeks the unusual and the unexpected; it desires to startle, andto force events by surprises.

  The answering of these letters was naturally Cornelia's first afternoonthought. It troubled her to remember that Joris had already beenwaiting some hours for a reply, for she had no hesitation as to whatthat reply should be. To write to Joris was a delightful thing, anunusual pleasure, and she sat down, smiling, to pen the lines which shethought would bring her much happiness, but which were doomed to bringher a great sorrow.

  MY JORIS! My dear Friend:

  'Tis scarce an hour since I received your letter, but I have read itover four times. And whatever you desire, that also is my desire; and Iam deceived as much as you, if you think I do not love you as much as Iam loved by you. You know my heart, and from you I shall never hide it;and I think if I were asleep, I should tell you how much I love you;for, indeed, I often dream that I do so. Come, then, this very night assoon as you think convenient. If my father is in a suitable temper itwill be well to speak plainly to him, and I am sure that my mother willsay in our favour all that is wise.

  Our love, with no recognition but our own, has been so strangely sweetthat I could be content never to alter that condition; and yet I fearno bond, and am ready to put it all to the trial. For if our love isnot such as will uphold an engagement, it will sink of itself; and ifit is true as we believe it to be, then it may last eternally. Whatmore is to say I will keep for your ear, for you are enough in my heartto know all my thoughts, and to know better than I can tell you howdearly, how constantly, how entirely I love you.

  Yours forever, CORNELIA.

  Without a pause, without an erasure this letter had transcribed itselffrom Cornelia's heart to the small gilt-edged note paper; but she foundit a much more difficult thing to answer the request of Rem Van Ariens.She was angry at him for putting her in such a dilemma. She thoughtthat she had made plain as possible to him the fact that she waspleased to be a companion, a friend, a sister, if he so desired, butthat love between them was not to be thought of. She had told Arentathis many times, and she had done so because she was certain Arentawould make this position clear to her brother. And under ordinarycircumstances Arenta would have been frank and free enough with Rem,but while her own marriage was such an important question she was notinclined to embarrass or shadow its arrangements by suggesting thingsto Rem likely to cause disagreements when she wished all to beharmonious and cheerful. So Arenta had encouraged, rather than dashed,Rem's hopes, for she did not doubt that Cornelia would finally undovery thoroughly what she had done.

  "A little love experience will be a good thing for Rem," she said toherself--"it will make a man of him; and I do hope he has moreself-respect and courage than to die of her denial."

  It is easy, then, to understand how Cornelia, relying on Arenta'susually ready advice and confidences, was sure that Rem had acceptedthe friendship that was all in her power to give him, and that thisbelief gave to their intercourse a frank and kindly intimacy that itwould not otherwise have obtained. This state of things was desirableand comfortable for Arenta, and Cornelia also had found a greatsatisfaction in a friendship which she trusted had fully recognized andaccepted its limitations. Now, all these pleasant moderate emotionswere stirred into uncomfortable agitation by Rem's unlooked-for andunreasonable request. She was hurt and agitated and withal a littlesorry for Rem, and she was also in a hurry, for the letter for Joriswas waiting, as she wished to send both by the same messenger. Finallyshe wrote the following words, not noticing at the time, butremembering afterwards, what a singular soul reluctance sheexperienced; how some uncertain presentiment, vague and dark and drear,stifled her thoughts and tried to make her understand, or at leastpause. But alas! the doom that walks side by side with us, never warns;it seems rather to stand sarcastic at our ignorance, and to watchspeculatively the cloud of trouble coming--coming on purpose because wefoolishly or carelessly call it to us.

  MY DEAR AND HONOURED FRIEND:

  Your letter has given me very great sorrow. You must have known formany weeks, even months, that marriage between us was impossible. Ithas always been so, it always will be so. Why could you not be content?We have been so happy! So happy! and now you will end all. But Fortune,though often cruel, cannot call back times that are past, and I shallnever forget our friendship. I grieve at your going away; I pray thatyour absence may bring you some consolation. Do not, I beg you, attemptto call on my father. Without explanations, I tell you very sincerely,such a call will cause me great trouble; for you know well a girl musttrust somewhat to others' judgment in her disposal. It gives me morepain than I can say to write in this mood, but necessity permits me nokinder words. I want you to be sure that the wrench, the "No" here isabsolute. My dear friend, pity rather than blame me; and I will be sounselfish as to hope you may not think so kindly of me as to be cruelto yourself. Please to consider your letter as never written
, it is thegreatest kindness you can do me; and, above all, I beg you will nottake my father into your confidence. With a sad sense of the pain mywords must cause you, I remain for all time your faithful friend andobedient servant,

  CORNELIA MORAN.

  Then she rang for a lighted candle, and while waiting for its arrivalneatly folded her letters. Her white wax and seal were at hand, and shedelayed the servant until she had closed and addressed them.

  "You will take Lieutenant Hyde's letter first," she said; "and make nodelay about it, for it is very important. Mr. Van Ariens' note you candeliver as you return."

  As soon as this business was quite out of her hands, she sank with ahappy sigh into a large comfortable chair; let her arms drop gently,and closed her eyes to think over what she had done. She was quitesatisfied. She was sure that no length of reflection could have madeher decide differently. She had Hyde's letter in her bosom, and shepressed her hand against it, and vowed to her heart that he was worthyof her love, and that he only should have it. As for Rem, she had adecided feeling of annoyance, almost of fear, as he entered her mind.She was angry that he had chosen that day to urge his unwelcome suit,and thus thrust his personality into Hyde's special hour.

  "He always makes himself unwelcome," she thought, "he ever has the wayto come when he was least wanted; but Joris! Oh there is nothing Iwould alter in him, even at the cost of a wish! JORIS! JORIS!" and shelet the dear name sweeten her lips, while the light of love brightenedand lengthened her eyes, and spread over her lovely face a blushingglow.

  After a while she rose up and adorned herself for her lover's visit.And when she entered the parlor Mrs. Moran looked at her with a littlewonder. For she had put on with her loveliest gown a kind ofbewildering prettiness. There was no cloud in her eyes, only a glow ofsoft dark fire. Her soul was in her face, it spoke in her brightglances, her sweet smiles, and her light step; it softened her speechto music, it made her altogether so delightful that her mother thought"Fortune must give her all she wishes, she is so charming."

  The tea tray was brought in at five o'clock, but Doctor Moran had notreturned, and there was in both women's hearts a little sense ofdisappointment. Mrs. Moran was wondering at his unusual delay, Corneliafeared he would be too weary and perhaps, too much interested in othermatters to permit her lover to speak. "But even so," she thought,"Joris can come again. To-night is not the only opportunity."

  It was nearly seven o'clock when the doctor came, and Cornelia was sureher lover would not be much behind that hour; but tea time was ever agood time to her father, he was always amiable and gracious with a cupin his hand, and the hour after it when his pipe kept him company, washis best hour. She told her heart that things had fallen out betterthan if she had planned them so; and she was so thoughtful for theweary man's comfort, so attentive and so amusing, that he found it easyto respond to the happy atmosphere surrounding him. He had a score ofpleasant things to tell about the fashionable exodus to Philadelphia,about the handsome dresses that had been shown him, and the funnyhousehold dilemmas that had been told him. And he was much pleasedbecause Harry De Lancey had been a great part of the day with him, andwas very eloquent indeed about the young man's good sense and gooddisposition, and the unnecessary, and almost cruel, confiscation ofproperty his family had suffered, for their Tory principles.

  And in the midst of the De Lancey lamentation, seven o'clock struck andCornelia began to listen for the shutting of the garden gate, and thesound of Hyde's step upon the flagged walk. It did not come as soon asshe hoped it would, and the minutes went slowly on until eight struck.Then the doctor was glooming and nodding, and waking up and saying aword or two, and relapsing again into semi-unconsciousness. She feltthat the favourable hour had passed, and now the minutes went far tooquickly. Why did he net come? With her work in her hand-makinglaborious stitches by a drawn thread--she sat listening with all herbeing. The street itself was strangely silent, no one passed, and thefitful talk at the fireside seemed full of fatality; she could feel theinfluence, though she did not inquire of her heart what it was, of whatit might signify.

  Half-past eight! She looked up and caught her mother's eyes, and thetrouble and question in them, and the needle going through the finemuslin, seemed to go through her heart. At nine the watching becameunbearable. She said softly "I must go to bed. I am tired;" but she putaway with her usual neatness her work, and her spools of thread, herthimble and her scissors. Her movement in the room roused the doctorthoroughly. He stood up, stretched his arms outward and upward, andsaid "he believed he had been sleeping, and must ask their pardon forhis indifference." And then he walked to the window and looking outadded "It is a lovely night but the moon looks like storm. Oh!"--and heturned quickly with the exclamation--"I forgot to tell you that I hearda strange report to-day, nothing less than that General Hyde returnedon the Mary Pell this morning, bringing with him a child."

  "A child!" said Mrs. Moran.

  "A girl, then, a little mite of a creature. Mrs. Davy told me theCaptain carried her in his arms to the carriage which took them to HydeManor."

  "And how should Mrs. Davy know?"

  "The Davys live next door to the Pells, and the servants of one housecarried the news to the other house. She said the General sent to hisson's lodging to see if he was in town, but he was not. It was thenonly eight o'clock in the morning."

  "How unlikely such a story is! Do you believe it?"

  "Ask to-morrow. As for me, I neither know nor care. That is the report.Who can tell what the Hydes will do?"

  Then Cornelia said a hasty "good-night" and went to her room. She wassick at heart; she trembled, something in her life had lost itsfoot-hold, and a sudden bewildering terror--she knew not how toexplain--took possession of her. For once she forgot her habitual orderand neatness; her pretty dress was thrown heedlessly across a chair,and she fell upon her knees weeping, and yet she could not pray.

  Still the very posture and the sweet sense of help and strength itimplied, brought her the power to take into consideration suchunexpected news, and such unexplained neglect on her lover's part,"General Hyde has returned; that much I feel certain of," she thought,"and Joris must have left Hyde Manor about the time his father reachedNew York. Joris would take the river road, being the shortest, hisfather would take the highway as the best for the carriage.Consequently, they passed each other and did not know it. Then Jorishas been sent for, and it was right and natural that he should go--butoh, he might have written!--ten words would have been enough--It wasright he should go--but he might have written!--he might havewritten!"--and she buried her face in her pillow and wept bitterly.Alas! Alas! Love wounds as cruelly when he fails, as when he strikes;and even when Cornelia had outworn thought and feeling, and fallen intoa sorrowful sleep, she was conscious of this failure, and her soulsighed all night long "He might have written!"