Wives and Widows; or The Broken Life Part 25

"But she may think that I have done wrong."

"She is too just, too n.o.ble, Jessie, to blame any one for that which was not a fault."

"Oh, Aunt Matty! even you speak and look so grave! I cannot bear it--indeed I cannot!"

I was softened at once. How could I speak so coldly to my Jessie, while she stood there trembling, with her great eyes full of tears.

"My own darling!" I said, quickly. "You know I could never feel anything but love for you. Don't shake so, dear! We won't speak of this, if it troubles you."

"No, no! I ought to hear--I must not be so weak."

She struggled against her feelings, brushed away her tears, and stood up so firm and determined, that I felt a new respect for her. It was beautiful to see how the true womanhood that lay at the bottom of her nature roused itself, and a.s.serted its supremacy in that moment of doubt and distress.

"You are a brave girl!" I exclaimed,--"my dear, honest-hearted Jessie!"

"You must not praise me," she said. "I feel so guilty and wicked."

"That is wrong; you should not give way to these morbid feelings."

"Indeed, Aunt Matty, I am not like the same girl I was a few months ago."

I knew whence the change came--I could have given its exact date; but it did not extend back over a period of months--a few weeks had served to bring that unrest and trouble upon the sweet girl. With the coming of Mrs. Dennison all those shadows had crept into the house, gathering silently but surely about every heart, dividing those who before had no thought nor wish that was not common to all. I felt, too, that she was preparing the way for deeper and darker troubles, which lingered not far off, only awaiting the command of the arch-magician to approach and wrap us in their folds.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

MRS. DENNISON GATHERS WILD FLOWERS.

While I was lost in gloomy thoughts which those words had aroused, Jessie turned from my chair and walked slowly up and down the terrace, after a habit she had inherited from her father in any season of doubt or perplexity. At last she came softly back and leaned over me again.

"Aunt Matty," she whispered, timidly.

"Yes, dear."

"I have made up my mind."

I looked in her face, and its expression told me at once what her decision had been.

"You will go," I said.

"Yes, I will. It is right--it is my duty! If he were never to get well, I should reproach myself bitterly for not having granted his request."

"G.o.d bless you, Jessie! I knew you would not refuse."

"I am sure that my parents will have no objection."

"I can answer for that--the most scrupulous person could see no harm.

Besides, Bosworth is a favorite both with your father and mother."

"Yes. Dear mamma will be so sorry to hear that he is ill--poor young man!"

"We will go to-morrow, Jessie. I dare say your father will accompany you."

"But I want you also, Aunt Matty; I should have no courage if you were not there."

"I will go, of course. You must speak to Mr. Lee about it--don't forget."

"I am not likely to; I will tell him this evening. But Aunt Matty--"

"Yes. Don't hesitate so. One would think you were afraid of your old friend. Not a cross one, am I?"

That made her laugh again; but the merriment died quickly. Her sensitive heart was so sorely troubled that her usual gayety was quite gone.

"I shall never fear you; but what I meant was that I don't wish Mrs.

Dennison to know that I am going."

"She is not likely to learn it from me, Jessie."

"She would laugh at me--and this is no subject nor time for a jest."

"I should think not, indeed. The woman who could make a mockery of such feelings would be a libel on her s.e.x."

"Ah! you must not be harsh."

"Only the old bitterness--don't mind it, Jessie. But we won't tell Mrs.

Dennison."

At that moment I detected a rustle in the hall. My hearing was always singularly acute,--Jessie used to say that I was like a wild animal in that respect,--and I felt confident that I heard some one stealing away from behind us.

I started up at once, hurried into the hall, and met Cora, Mrs.

Dennison's maid, face to face. She was running off--I could have sworn to that; but the moment she heard my step she turned toward me with her usual composure and pleasant smile.

"What do you want here, Cora?" I asked, more sharply than I often spoke to a dependant; for, of all people in the world, it is my habit to treat servants kindly. "Pray, what brings you into this hall?"

"I was just coming to look for my mistress, ma'am. Excuse me; I didn't know it was wrong."

"I have not said that it was," I answered, still convinced that she had been listening; "but our own domestics are never permitted to pa.s.s through this hall unless called."

"I will remember--I beg pardon."

"Mrs. Dennison is not here."

"Oh! excuse me--"

She stopped. I saw her curtsy, turned, and there stood Mr. Lee, looking at me gravely. He had heard my ill-natured tone, and could see the flush of anger on my face.