Tempest and Sunshine Part 37

"Lord knows," said Aunt Dilsey, "fust time she sa.s.ses me, I'll run away long of Jack and the baby. I'll tie up my new gown and cap in a handkerchief this night."

Leffie now proposed that her mother should defer her intended flight until the arrival of the dreaded Julia, while Rondeau added, "Besides, Dilsey, if you should run away your delicate body couldn't get further than the swamp, where you'd go in up to your neck first lunge, and all marster's horses couldn't draw you out."

This allusion to her size changed the current of Aunt Dilsey's wrath, which now turned and spent itself on Rondeau. Her impression of Julia, however, never changed, although she was not called upon to run away.

Mrs. Lacey, too, received the news of her son's engagement with evident dissatisfaction; but she thought remonstrance would be useless, and she kept silent, secretly praying that Julia might prove better than her fears. In due course of time there came from Kentucky a letter of congratulation from f.a.n.n.y; but she was so unaccustomed to say or write what she did not feel that the letter, so far as congratulations were concerned, was a total failure. She, however, denied her engagement with Frank, and this, if nothing else, was sufficient reason why Julia refused to show it to Dr. Lacey. Julia knew the chain by which she held him was brittle and might at any time be broken, and it was not strange that she longed for the last days of October, when with Dr. Lacey she would return to Kentucky.

They came at last, and one bright, cloudless morning Uncle Joshua got out his carriage and proceeded to Frankfort, where, as he had expected, he met Julia and his expected son-in-law. His greeting of the former was kind and fatherly enough, but the moment he saw the latter, he felt, as he afterward said, an almost unconquerable desire to flatten his nose, gouge his eyes, knock out his teeth and so forth, which operations would doubtless have greatly astonished Dr. Lacey and given him what almost every man has, viz., a most formidable idea of his wife's relations.

He, however, restrained his wrath, and when, at a convenient time, Dr.

Lacey, with a few ominous "ahems" and made-up coughs, indicated his intention of asking for Julia, Uncle Joshua cut him short by saying, "Never mind, I know what you want. You may have her and welcome. I only wish she would make as good a wife as you will husband. But mind now, when you find out what for a fury you've got, don't come whinin' round me, for I give you fa'r warnin'."

Here Dr. Lacey thought proper to say that possibly Mr. Middleton did not understand his daughter.

"Not understand her?" repeated Mr. Middleton. "What's to hinder? She's my own gal, and I like her well enough; but don't I know she's as fiery as a baker's oven?"

"She is greatly changed," continued Dr. Lacey. "Don't you give her credit for that?"

"Changed?" replied Mr. Middleton. "So's lightnin' changed! It's one of her tricks. Depend on it, you'll find it so." And Mr. Middleton walked off in search of his promising daughter.

Strange as it may seem, the old man's remarks had no other effect on Dr.

Lacey than to cause him to pity Julia, who he fancied was misunderstood and misused. He believed her reformation to be sincere, and could not help feeling that Mr. Middleton was mistaken in his opinion of both his daughters.

After tramping all over the house, banging doors and shouting at least a dozen times, "Ho, Tempest, whar for gracious sakes are you?" Mr. Middleton at length found his daughter in Mrs. Miller's room consulting with Kate about her bridal dress. Kate, too, was wholly deceived by Julia's gentleness and apparent frankness of manner, and readily complied with her request that she should be with her the two days preceding the marriage, for the purpose of a.s.sisting in the arrangement of affairs. This being settled, Mr. Middleton and his daughter started for home, which they reached about sunset.

Julia leaped gayly from the carriage, and running into the house, embraced her mother, and received the blacks as affectionately as f.a.n.n.y herself could have done; then missing her sister, she asked, "Where is Fan? Why does she not come to meet me?"

Mrs. Middleton looked inquiringly at her husband, who replied, "No, I hain't told her, jest because she didn't ask me. Suns.h.i.+ne is sick-sick in bed, and has had the potecary three times."

"f.a.n.n.y sick," said Julia. "Where is she? In her room? I will go to her immediately."

But in going to f.a.n.n.y, it was necessary to pa.s.s the parlor, and Julia could not resist the temptation to look in and see "if the old man had fixed up any."

"Oh, how neat, how pleasant!" was her first exclamation, and truly the cheerless old room had undergone a great renovation. It had been thoroughly cleaned and repainted. The walls were hung with bright, cheerful-looking paper. A handsome carpet covered the floor, while curtains of corresponding beauty shaded the windows. The furniture, tastefully arranged, was nearly all new, and in the waxen flowers, which filled the vases on the mantelpiece, Julia recognized the handiwork of her sister.

Yes, f.a.n.n.y's love had wrought this change. At first her father had refused to do anything. "No, I won't," said he. "It's good enough, and if it don't suit Lady Tempest, she can go to the hoss barn; that's just fit for 'em."

"Then, father," said f.a.n.n.y, "do it for my sake. It would please me to have a pleasanter parlor."

This was sufficient. A well-filled purse was placed in f.a.n.n.y's hands, with liberty to do as she pleased. Then with untiring love, aching heart and throbbing temples, she worked on day after day, until all was completed, parlor, bridal chamber and all. The hangings and drapery of the latter were as white and pure as was she who so patiently worked on, while each fresh beauty added to the room pierced her heart with a deeper anguish, as she thought what and whom it was for. When her mother remonstrated against such unceasing toil, she would smile a sweet, sad smile and say, "Don't hinder me, dear mother, 'tis all I can do to show my love for Julia, and after I am gone they will perhaps think more kindly of me, when they know how I worked for them."

At last all was done; the finis.h.i.+ng stroke was given, and then came a reaction. f.a.n.n.y took her bed, and her father, instantly, alarmed, called the nearest physician. Dr. Gordon readily saw that f.a.n.n.y's disease was in her mind, and in reply to Mrs. Middleton's inquiries, he frankly told his opinion, and said that unless the cause of her melancholy could be removed, the consequence might be fatal.

"Don't tell my husband," said Mrs. Middleton, "his life is bound up in f.a.n.n.y, and the day that sees her dead will, I fear, also make me a widow."

Accordingly, Mr. Middleton was deceived into a belief that f.a.n.n.y's illness was the result of over-exertion, and that she would soon recover.

In a day or two she seemed better, but was not able to come downstairs.

Instead, she had no desire or intention of doing so until after the wedding, for she felt she could not, would not, see Dr. Lacey for the world. Since the receipt of her sister's letter she had been given a holier love, a firmer faith, than aught on earth can bestow, and she was now under the influence of religion; of lasting, true religion. This then was the reason why she welcomed her sister so affectionately, and felt no emotion either of resentment or anger toward those who were thus trampling on the bleeding fibers of her heart.

As Julia kissed the almost transparent brow of her sister, and clasped her thin, white fingers, tears gathered in her eyes and she thought, "This ruin have I wrought, and for it I must answer"; but not long did she ever suffer her conscience to trouble her, and the next hour she was chatting away to f.a.n.n.y about the preparations for her wedding, which was to take place one week from that day. f.a.n.n.y listened as one who heard not. She was praying for more grace, more strength to endure yet a little longer.

Slowly to Julia dragged the days of that week, while to f.a.n.n.y they sped on rapid wing. And now everything within and without the house betokened the coming event. Servants scampered hither and thither, thinking they were doing it all, while in reality they were doing nothing. Mrs. Middleton scolded the blacks, and Uncle Joshua scolded Mrs. Middleton, at the same time walking mechanically from the kitchen to the parlor, from the parlor to f.a.n.n.y's sick room and from f.a.n.n.y's sick room back to the kitchen, occasionally kicking from his path some luckless kitten, dog or black baby, which latter set up most l.u.s.ty yells, just to vary the scene.

In the midst of all this f.a.n.n.y lay calmly and quietly on her low bed, counting each succeeding sun as it rose and set, bringing nearer and nearer a day she so much dreaded. True to her promise, Kate Miller came two days before the wedding. f.a.n.n.y was asleep when she entered the room to see her, but on the white, wasted face Kate's tears fell as she said, "Poor f.a.n.n.y! I did not know she was so ill."

Mr. Middleton, who was present, muttered: "Yes, cursed be the one who made her so!" He knew not that he cursed his own child.

The next day Mr. William Middleton arrived, bringing the intelligence that Florence and Mabel had accompanied him, and would next evening be present at the wedding. Slowly the last rays of a bright October sun faded in the west, giving no sign of the stormy day which was to succeed. Long after midnight a lone watcher sat by the window in f.a.n.n.y's room, gazing at the stars, which looked so quietly on from their distant homes, and praying, not for herself, but for Dr. Lacey, that he might be happy with her he had chosen. At last, chilled with the night air, she crept s.h.i.+vering to her pillow, nor woke again until aroused by the fierce moaning of the autumn wind, which shook the cas.e.m.e.nt, and by the sound of the driving rain which beat against the pane. Yes, the morning which dawned on Julia's bridal day was wild and stormy, but before noon the clouds cleared away and the afternoon was dry, hot and oppressive, a precursor to the mightier and more wrathful storm which followed.

About five o'clock there was a noise in the yard, and Kate, who was in f.a.n.n.y's room, arranging her young friend's hair, looked from the window and said, "It is Dr. Lacey. Julia has looked for him for more than three hours."

Quickly f.a.n.n.y hurried to the window. She could not meet Dr. Lacey face to face, but she wished to look at him once more. She was too late, however.

He had entered the house, and soon the sound of his voice reached her ear.

He had not been there long ere he asked for f.a.n.n.y.

On being told she was sick, he seemed rather disturbed. Possibly, however, he felt relieved to know she would not be present when he took upon him vows which should have been breathed to her. Ashton, Florence and Mabel now arrived, and soon after came Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, accompanied by Mrs.

Carrington, who had been invited because it would not do to slight her, and who came because she had a mind to!

The ceremony was to take place at seven o'clock, and guests each moment arrived, until the parlor seemed almost full. Alone in her chamber sat f.a.n.n.y, listening to the sounds of mirth, which grated on her ear. Night, dark and stormy, was gathering over the earth, but a darker night lay round the heart of the young girl, as she watched from her pillow a dense, black pile of clouds, which had appeared in the west, and now increased until the whole sky was overspread, as with a pall of darkness, while distant peals of muttered thunder announced the coming storm.

And now louder roared the howling wind and brighter the glaring lightning flashed, while fiercer grew the conflict in f.a.n.n.y's bosom. Her faith was weak, and well nigh blotted with tears of human weakness. But He, whose power could stay the storm without, could also still the agony within, and o'er the troubled waters of that aching heart there fell a peaceful calm.

Suddenly the door opened and a creature of wondrous, dazzling beauty appeared. It was Julia, in her bridal robe. She would fain have her sister's blessing ere she descended to the parlor. The struggle was over and the blessing which f.a.n.n.y gave her sister was sincere, but when Julia asked forgiveness for all the evil she had ever done, the reply was prevented by a crash of thunder so terrific that Julia trembled with terror, and hastily left the room.

In a moment there was a light step upon the stair. f.a.n.n.y knew it was Dr.

Lacey, for he soon returned with Julia, and as they pa.s.sed her door she heard the merry laugh of Florence, who was bridesmaid. In an instant they were in the parlor, throughout which a general gloom seemed to reign.

Perhaps it was owing to the wildness of the storm, which each moment increased in fury. The bridal party took their places and Uncle Joshua shut his eyes, while the marriage ceremony commenced.

The reader may now accompany me to the border of yonder wood, where stands a low-roofed building, the property of Mrs. Dunn. There in a darkened room lay the widow's only son, raving in the madness of delirium. The fever flame burned in each vein, and as he tossed from side to side he would shriek out, "Quick, I tell you or you are too late. She must not wed him.

Don't you know she's doubly, trebly steeped in guilt? Go quick, I tell you, and stop it."

Mrs. Dunn could only weep, for she knew not, dreamed not, what her son could mean. Soon he grew calm, and fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke Billy Jeffrey, who lived near, was sitting by him. To Mrs. Dunn's delight, Joseph was sane, and calling her to him he said, "Isn't Julia Middleton to be married tonight?"

"She is," answered his mother.

"At what hour?"

"At seven."

"What time is it now?"

"Half-past six," replied Mrs. Dunn.

"It must not be," said Joseph, and turning to Bill he added, "listen, William, to what I have to tell, then speed along on the lightning's wing, and tear her from the altar-take her from his side, I say, and put there the other one, the pale, golden-haired one"; then, as he noticed the vacant look on Bill's face, he added, "oh, no, you can't tell it. You wouldn't understand it. Mother, bring me a pen and some paper."

The paper was brought, and as soon as possible Joseph wrote a confession of his own and Julia's guilt. "Now, Bill," said he, "run for your life, and give this to Dr. Lacey. Do it for the sake of f.a.n.n.y."