Wives and Widows; or, The Broken Life. Ann S. Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ head of Mr. Lee. Gratitude had deepened my reverence for that man into such worship as only a sensitive child can feel. Yes, worship is the word, for this young man in the grandeur of his fine person, gentle manners, and superior age, seemed as far above me as the clouds of heaven are above the daisies in a meadow. Even now I cannot comprehend the feelings with which I regarded him.

      Have I said that Mr. Lee was a partner in the Olmsly Iron Works, and though he boarded in town, half his time was of necessity spent at the Ridge? My guardian only attended to business through him, and expected a report at least twice a week.

      Many and many a time, when I knew that he was coming, have I wandered down the carriage-road to the grove where it curved off from the highway, and was closed into our private ground by a gate. There, sheltered by the spruce-trees and hidden by the laurel-bushes, I have waited hours, listening for the tread of his horse, and feeling supremely rewarded by a brief glimpse of his manly figure, as it dashed up the road, unconscious alike of my presence and my worship.

      I never mentioned these feelings, or all the secret sources of happiness to which my soul awoke, not even to Miss Olmsly. I would have died rather than breathe them to any human being; they were sacred to me as my prayers. Sometimes I would be days together without speaking to Mr. Lee, but I was seldom out of the sound of his voice when he visited the Ridge, and would follow him and Miss Olmsly like a pet dog about the garden, glad to see her brighten and smile when he looked upon her, and loving them both with my whole heart.

      Sometimes other company came from the town. We frequently drove over there and brought Mr. Lee home with us; indeed, he was one of the family in every respect, save that he did not sleep at the Ridge, and called himself a visitor. One thing is very certain—on the days he did not come Miss Olmsly was sure to grow serious, almost sad; only there never was any real sadness at our house in those days.

CHAPTER IV.

       THREATENED WITH SEPARATION.

       Table of Contents

      This beautiful life must have an end. Even childhood has its duties, and mine could no longer be evaded.

      One day Miss Olmsly came into my room, and looking around, sighed; but there was a smile on her lip and an expression in her face that made me wonder at the sigh; for I had not learned that superabundant joy has sometimes the same expression as grief; but oh, how different the feeling.

      She sat down by the window, and drawing me close to her, kissed my forehead two or three times with so much feeling that I began to tremble.

      "Is anything the matter?" I said, winding my arms around her neck; "have I done wrong?"

      "Wrong, my sweet child, no; who ever accused you of being anything but the best girl in the world? I was only thinking how lonesome you would be without us."

      "Without you?" I faltered—"without you?"

      I felt myself growing pale, my arms fell away from that white neck, and I looked piteously in her kind face, afraid to ask the meaning of these words.

      "Don't look so frightened, dear," said Miss Olmsly, drawing me fondly to her side. "Even if we were not going, you must have been sent to school. No young lady can get along without education, you know; still, I shall feel very anxious about you."

      "Are you going away; am I to be left?"

      I could ask no more; the very idea of parting with them choked me.

      Miss Olmsly drew my face to hers as if she wanted to keep me from looking at her so earnestly. My cheek was wet with tears, but hers was red as it touched mine, and I could feel that it was burning.

      "I am about to tell you something that I hope you will be glad to hear, darling," she said, almost in a whisper. "In two weeks Mr. Lee and I are going to be married. Why, how you shiver, child! I should have told you of this first; the very thought of a school terrifies you."

      I heard this and no more. Another death seemed upon me; I fell upon my knees and caught at her dress with both hands.

      "Oh, do not leave me—I shall die! I shall die!" She lifted me from the floor and attempted to soothe me, but I was not to be pacified. To live without him—never to see him! There would be nothing worth loving in my life after that.

      "Is it so hard to part with us," she said, smoothing my hair with both hands.

      I flung my arms around her neck in passionate grief.

      "Let me go too; oh, take me, take me!"

      "But we are going to Europe."

      "Over the sea? I know, I know, take me!"

      She kissed me again, and seemed thoughtful. My heart rose: I began to plead with hope. She listened tenderly; told me not to cry, and left me in a state of suspense hard to bear. An hour after this I saw her walking in the garden with Mr. Lee. She was addressing him with sweet earnestness. He looked smilingly down into her face and seemed to expostulate against something that she was urging. At last he appeared to give way, but shook his head and threatened her with his finger, which she answered by tossing the ripe leaves of an autumn rose in his face. As he shook them laughingly away, his eyes fell on me where I leaned from the window, and he made a sign for me to come down.

      Breathless, and wild with anxiety, I ran down to the garden and stood beside him, panting for breath, eager to speak, and yet afraid.

      "Well, little lady," he said, holding out a hand; "you are determined that we shall not leave you behind."

      "It would kill me," I murmured, striving to read my fate in his eyes.

      "But we shall be gone from home a long time."

      "My home is where—where she is," I answered.

      Why did I hesitate to include him. I think he noticed it, for he said, laughing, "Then you care everything for her, nothing for me?"

      I burst into tears and cried out in my trouble, "Oh, you are cruel to me; you laugh when I am so unhappy."

      "But no one shall be made so unhappy when—when—" Here Miss Olmsly broke off what she had begun to say, and flushed like the rose she had just torn to pieces.

      "When we are married; that is what she will not say, sweetheart," broke in Mr. Lee, blushing a little himself; "and if it really will make you unhappy to stay behind, why, there must be some way found by which you can go with us."

      I caught a deep breath and felt a glow of keen happiness rush up to my face, but no word would leave my lips.

      "Now, this will make you happy?" questioned Miss Olmsly, looking into my eyes—I think as much to avoid his, as from a wish to read my joy there.

      "So happy," I answered.

      "But we shall be gone a long time and shall travel a great deal, while you must be put to school."

      This dampened my spirits a little, but I answered, bravely, that I did not mind, so long as there was no ocean between us.

      Then they informed me that Mr. Olmsly had СКАЧАТЬ