Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 14 (36 page)

 
          
"Who
is with you now?" she asked, in a low, mellow voice that was full of
music.

 
          
"My
sister and my cousin are yonder. You may remember Tavia as a child, she is
little more now. Maurice is an invalid, but the finest fellow breathing."

 
          
"I
understand," and Mrs. Snowdon's eyes softened with a sudden glance of pity
for one cousin and admiration for the other, for she knew the facts.

 
          
"Major Royston, my father's friend, and Frank Annon, my own.
Do you know him?" asked Sir Jasper.

 
          
"No."

 
          
"Then
allow me to make him happy by presenting him, may I?"

 
          
"Not
now. I'd rather see your cousin."

 
          
"Thanks,
you are very kind. I'll bring him over."

 
          
"Stay,
let me go to him," began the lady, with more feeling in face and voice
than one would believe her capable of showing.

 
          
"Pardon,
it will offend him, he will not be pitied, or relinquish any of the duties or
privileges of a gentleman which he can possibly perform. He is
proud,
we can understand the feeling, so let us humor the
poor fellow."

 
          
Mrs.
Snowdon
bowed
silently,
and Sir Jasper called out in his hearty, blunt way, as if nothing was amiss
with his cousin, "Maurice, I've an honor for you. Come and receive
it."

 
          
Divining
what it was, Treherne noiselessly crossed the room, and with no sign of
self-consciousness or embarrassment, was presented to the handsome woman.
Thinking his presence might be a restraint, Sir Jasper went away. The instant
his back was turned, a change came over both: an almost grim expression
replaced the suavity of Treherne's face, and Mrs. Snowdon's smile faded
suddenly, while a deep flush rose to her brow, as her eyes questioned his
beseechingly.

 
          
"How
dared you come?" he asked below his breath.

 
          
"The
general insisted."

 
          
"And
you could not change his purpose; poor woman!"

 
          
"You
will not be pitied, neither will I," and her eyes flashed; then the fire
was quenched in tears, and her voice lost all its pride in a pleading tone.

 
          
"Forgive
me, I longed to see you since your illness, and so I 'dared' to come."

 
          
"You
shall be gratified; look, quite helpless, crippled for life, perhaps."

 
          
The
chair was turned from the groups about the fire, and as he spoke, with a bitter
laugh Treherne threw back the skin which covered his knees, and showed her the
useless limbs once so strong and fleet. She shrank and paled, put out her hand
to arrest him, and cried in an indignant whisper, "No, no, not that! You
know I never meant such cruel curiosity, such useless pain to both—"

 
          
"Be
still, someone is coming," he returned inaudibly; adding aloud, as he
adjusted the skin and smoothed the rich fur as if speaking of it, "Yes, it
is a very fine one, Jasper gave it to me. He spoils me, like a dear,
generous-hearted fellow as he is. Ah, Octavia, what can I do for you?"

 
          
"Nothing, thank you.
I want to recall myself to Mrs.
Snowdon's memory, if she will let me."

 
          
"No
need of that; I never forget happy faces and pretty pictures. Two years ago I
saw you at your first ball, and longed to be a girl again."

 
          
As
she spoke, Mrs. Snowdon pressed the hand shyly offered, and smiled at the
spirited face before her, though the shadow in her own eyes deepened as she met
the bright glance of the girl.

 
          
"How
kind you were that night! I remember you let me chatter away about my family,
my cousin, and my foolish little affairs with the sweetest patience, and made
me very happy by your interest. I was homesick, and Aunt could never bear to
hear of those things. It was before your marriage, and all the kinder, for you
were the queen of the night, yet had a word for poor little me."

 
          
Mrs.
Snowdon was pale to the lips, and Maurice impatiently tapped the arm of his
chair, while the girl innocently chatted on.

 
          
"I
am sorry the general is such an invalid; yet I dare say you find great
happiness in taking care of him. It is so pleasant to be of use to those we
love." And as she spoke, Octavia leaned over her cousin to hand him the
glove he had dropped.

 
          
The
affectionate smile that accompanied the act made the color deepen again in Mrs.
Snowdon's cheek, and lit a spark in her softened eyes. Her lips curled and her
voice was sweetly sarcastic as she answered, "Yes, it is charming to
devote one's life to these dear invalids, and find one's reward in their
gratitude. Youth, beauty, health, and happiness are small sacrifices if one
wins a little comfort for the poor sufferers."

 
          
The
girl felt the sarcasm under the soft words and drew back with a troubled face.

 
          
Maurice
smiled, and glanced from one to the other, saying significantly, "Well for
me that my little nurse loves her labor, and finds no sacrifice in it. I am
fortunate in my choice."

 
          
"I
trust it may prove so—" Mrs.
Snowdon
got
no further, for at that moment dinner was
announced,
and Sir Jasper took her away. Annon approached with him and offered his arm to
Miss Treherne, but with an air of surprise, and a little gesture of refusal,
she said coldly:

 
          
"My
cousin always takes me in to dinner. Be good enough to escort the major."
And with her hand on the arm of the chair, she walked away with a mischievous
glitter in her eyes.

 
          
Annon
frowned and fell back, saying sharply, "Come, Major, what are you doing
there?"

 
          
"Making discoveries."

 
          
A
right splendid old dowager was Lady Treherne, in her black velvet and point
lace, as she sat erect and stately on a couch by the drawing-room fire, a couch
which no one dare occupy in her absence, or share uninvited. The gentlemen were
still over their wine, and the three ladies were alone. My lady never dozed in
public, Mrs. Snowdon never gossiped, and Octavia never troubled herself to
entertain any guests but those of her own age, so long pauses fell, and
conversation languished, till Mrs. Snowdon roamed away into the library. As she
disappeared, Lady Treherne beckoned to her daughter, who was idly making chords
at the grand piano. Seating herself on the ottoman at her mother's feet, the
girl took the still handsome hand in her own and amused herself with examining
the old-fashioned jewels that covered it, a pretext for occupying her telltale
eyes, as she suspected what was coming.

 
          
"My
dear, I'm not pleased with you, and I tell you so at once, that you may amend
your fault," began Madame Mère in a tender tone, for though a haughty,
imperious woman, she idolized her children.

 
          
"What
have I done, Mamma?" asked the girl.

 
          
"Say
rather, what
have you
left undone. You have been very
rude to Mr. Annon. It must not occur again; not only because he is a guest, but
because he is your—brother's friend."

 
          
My
lady hesitated over the word "lover," and changed it, for to her
Octavia still seemed a child, and though anxious for the alliance, she forbore
to speak openly, lest the girl should turn willful, as she inherited her
mother's high spirit.

 
          
"I'm
sorry, Mamma. But how can I help it, when he teases me so that I detest
him?" said Octavia, petulantly.

 
          
"How
tease, my love?"

 
          
"Why,
he follows me about like a dog, puts on a sentimental look when I appear;
blushes, and beams, and bows at everything I say, if I am polite; frowns and
sighs if I'm not; and glowers tragically at every man I speak to, even poor
Maurice. Oh, Mamma, what foolish
creatures
men
are!" And the girl laughed blithely, as she looked up for the first time
into her mother's face.

 
          
My
lady smiled, as she stroked the bright head at her knee, but asked quickly,
"Why
say
'even poor Maurice,' as if it were
impossible for anyone to be jealous of him?"

 
          
"But
isn't it, Mamma? I thought strong, well men regarded him as one set apart and
done with, since his sad misfortune."

 
          
"Not
entirely; while women pity and pet the poor fellow, his comrades will be
jealous, absurd as it is."

 
          
"No
one pets him but me, and I have a right to do it, for he is my cousin,"
said the girl, feeling a touch of jealousy herself.

 
          
"Rose
and Blanche Talbot outdo you, my dear, and there is no cousinship to excuse
them."

 
          
"Then
let Frank Annon be jealous of them, and leave me in peace. They promised to
come today; I'm afraid something has happened to prevent them." And
Octavia gladly seized upon the new subject. But my lady was not to be eluded.

 
          
"They
said they could not come till after dinner. They will soon arrive. Before they
do so, I must say a few words, Tavia, and I beg you to give heed to them. I
desire you to be courteous and amiable to Mr. Annon, and before strangers to be
less attentive and affectionate to Maurice. You mean it kindly, but it looks
ill, and causes disagreeable remarks."

 
          
"Who
blames me for being devoted to my cousin? Can I ever do enough to repay him for
his devotion? Mamma, you forget he saved your son's life."

 
          
Indignant
tears filled the girl's eyes, and she spoke passionately, forgetting that Mrs.
Snowdon was within earshot of her raised voice. With a frown my lady laid her
hand on her daughter's lips, saying coldly, "I do not forget, and I
religiously discharge my every obligation by every care and comfort it is in my
power to bestow. You are young, romantic, and tender-hearted. You think you
must give your time and health, must sacrifice your future happiness to this
duty. You are wrong, and unless you learn wisdom in season, you will find that
you have done harm, not
good
."

 
          
"God
forbid! How can I do that? Tell me, and I will be wise in time."

 
          
Turning
the earnest face up to
her own,
Lady Treherne
whispered anxiously, "Has Maurice ever looked or hinted anything of love
during this year he has been with us, and you his constant companion?"

 
          
"Never,
Mamma; he is too honorable and too unhappy to speak or think of that. I am his
little nurse, sister, and friend, no more, nor ever shall be. Do not suspect
us, or put such fears into my mind, else all our comfort will be spoiled."

 
          
Flushed
and eager was the girl, but her clear eyes betrayed no tender confusion as she
spoke, and all her thought seemed to be to clear her cousin from the charge of
loving her too well. Lady Treherne looked relieved, paused a moment, then said,
seriously but gently, "This is well, but, child, I charge you tell me at
once, if ever he forgets himself, for this thing cannot be. Once I hoped it
might, now it is impossible; remember that he
continue
a friend and cousin, nothing more. I warn you in time, but if you neglect the
warning, Maurice must go. No more of this; recollect my wish regarding Mr. Annon,
and let your cousin amuse himself without you in public."

 
          
"Mamma,
do you wish me to like Frank Annon?"

 
          
The
abrupt question rather disturbed my lady, but knowing her daughter's frank,
impetuous nature, she felt somewhat relieved by this candor, and answered
decidedly, "I do. He is your equal in all respects; he loves you, Jasper
desires it, I approve, and you, being heart-whole, can have no just objection
to the alliance."

 
          
"Has
he spoken to you?"

 
          
"No, to your brother."

 
          
"You
wish this much, Mamma?"

 
          
"Very much, my child."

 
          
"I
will try to please you, then." And stifling a sigh, the girl kissed her
mother with unwonted meekness in tone and manner.

 
          
"Now
I am well pleased. Be happy, my love. No one will urge or distress you. Let
matters take their course, and if this hope of ours can be fulfilled, I shall
be relieved of the chief care of my life."

 
          
A
sound of girlish voices here broke on their ears, and springing up, Octavia
hurried to meet her friends, exclaiming joyfully, "They have come!
they
have come!"

 
          
Two
smiling, blooming girls met her at the door, and, being at an enthusiastic age,
they gushed in girlish fashion for several minutes, making a pretty group as
they stood in each other's arms, all talking at once, with frequent kisses and
little bursts of laughter, as vents for their emotion. Madame Mère welcomed
them and then went to join Mrs. Snowdon, leaving the trio to gossip
unrestrained.

 
          
"My
dearest creature, I thought we never should get here, for Papa had a tiresome
dinner party, and we were obliged to stay, you know," cried Rose, the
lively sister, shaking out the pretty dress and glancing at herself in the
mirror as she fluttered about the room like a butterfly.

 
          
"We
were dying to come, and so charmed when you asked us, for we haven't seen you
this age, darling," added Blanche, the pensive one, smoothing her blond
curls after a fresh embrace.

 
          
"I'm
sorry the Ulsters couldn't come to keep Christmas with us, for we have no
gentlemen but Jasper, Frank Annon, and the major. Sad, isn't it?" said
Octavia, with a look of despair, which caused a fresh peal of laughter.

 
          
"One
apiece, my dear, it might be worse." And Rose privately decided to
appropriate Sir Jasper.

 
          
"Where
is your cousin?" asked Blanche, with a sigh of sentimental interest.

 
          
"He
is here, of course. I forget him, but he is not on the flirting list, you know.
We must amuse him, and not expect him to amuse us, though really, all the
capital suggestions and plans for merrymaking always come from him."

 
          
"He
is better, I hope?" asked both sisters with real sympathy, making their
young faces womanly and sweet.

 
          
"Yes,
and has hopes of entire recovery. At least, they tell him so, though Dr. Ashley
said there was no chance of it."

 
          
"Dear, dear, how sad!
Shall we see him, Tavia?"

 
          
"Certainly;
he is able to be with us now in the evening, and enjoys society as much as
ever. But please take no notice of his infirmity, and make no inquiries beyond
the usual 'How do you do.' He is sensitive, and hates to be considered an
invalid more than ever."

 
          
"How
charming it must be to take care of him, he is so accomplished and delightful.
I quite envy you," said Blanche pensively.

 
          
"Sir
Jasper told us that the General and Mrs. Snowdon were coming. I hope they will,
for I've a most intense curiosity to see her—" began Rose.

 
          
"Hush,
she is here with Mamma! Why curious? What is the mystery? For you look as if
there was one," questioned Octavia under her breath.

 
          
The
three charming heads bent toward one another as Rose replied in a whisper,
"If I knew, I shouldn't be inquisitive. There was a rumor that she married
the old general in a fit of pique, and now repents. I asked Mamma once, but she
said such matters were not for young girls to hear, and not a word more would
she say.
N'importe
, I have wits of my own, and I can satisfy myself. The
gentlemen are coming! Am I all right, dear?" And the three glanced at one
another with a swift scrutiny that nothing could escape, then grouped
themselves
prettily, and waited, with a little flutter of
expectation in each young heart.

 
          
In came the gentlemen, and instantly a new atmosphere seemed to
pervade the drawing room, for with the first words uttered, several romances
began.
Sir Jasper was taken possession of by Rose, Blanche intended to
devote herself to Maurice Treherne, but Annon intercepted her, and Octavia was
spared any effort at politeness by this unexpected move on the part of her
lover.

 
          
"He
is angry, and wishes to pique me by devoting himself to Blanche. I wish he
would, with all my heart, and leave me in peace. Poor Maurice, he expects me,
and I long to go to him, but must obey Mamma." And Octavia went to join
the group formed by my lady, Mrs. Snowdon, the general, and the major.

 
          
The
two young couples flirted in different parts of the room, and Treherne sat
alone, watching them all with eyes that pierced below the surface, reading the
hidden wishes, hopes, and fears that ruled them. A singular expression sat on
his face as he turned from Octavia's clear countenance to Mrs. Snowdon's gloomy
one. He leaned his head upon his hand and fell into deep thought, for he was
passing through one of those fateful moments which come to us all, and which
may make or mar a life. Such moments come when least looked for: an unexpected
meeting, a peculiar mood, some trivial circumstance, or careless word produces
it, and often it is gone before we realize its presence, leaving aftereffects
to show us what we have gained or lost. Treherne was conscious that the present
hour, and the acts that filled it, possessed unusual interest, and would exert
an unusual influence on his life. Before him was the good and evil genius of
his nature in the guise of those two women. Edith Snowdon had already tried her
power, and accident only had saved him. Octavia, all unconscious as she was,
never failed to rouse and stimulate the noblest attributes of mind and heart. A
year spent in her society had done much for him, and he loved her with a
strange mingling of passion, reverence, and gratitude. He knew why Edith
Snowdon came, he felt that the old fascination had not lost its charm, and
though fear was unknown to him, he was ill pleased at the sight of the
beautiful, dangerous woman. On the other hand, he saw that Lady Treherne
desired her daughter to shun him and smile on Annon; he acknowledged that he
had no right to win the young creature, crippled and poor as he was, and a pang
of jealous pain wrung his heart as he watched her.