CHAPTER XVIII.THE NEW-FOUND HEIR.
Ernest.—Which is the bridegroom?Wilhelm.—Marry! the heir.—Newman.
Ernest.—Which is the bridegroom?Wilhelm.—Marry! the heir.—Newman.
Ernest.—Which is the bridegroom?Wilhelm.—Marry! the heir.—Newman.
Ernest.—Which is the bridegroom?
Wilhelm.—Marry! the heir.
—Newman.
Magnus had returned home with his cousin. The next day the family from the Hollow dined at Mount Calm, by invitation. General Garnet was still cold and reserved to Magnus, but showed the most marked attention to Lionel. This at first surprised Dr. Hardcastle; but soon, with a haughty curl of the lip, he thought:
“I see how it is; fortune has changed. I have lost an inheritance.”
After dinner Lionel told a tale of an Algerine cruiser, of a long captivity, of a hair-breadth escape, but left as vague an impression of reality upon the minds of his hearers as it leaves now upon the minds of my readers. They did not doubt his story, but they could not well connect the effeminate beauty of the man with any life of pirate-adventure and slavery hardships.
Elsie was saddened for the first time in her life, and she scarcely knew wherefore. During the short estrangement between herself and her lover she had been nervous, anxious, excitable; now she was depressed. She loved her mother very tenderly; she loved her father passionately; and Magnus she loved—oh, how shall I say?—with an infinite future reservation. But now she saw a cloud—she was too guileless to know wherefore—settle and deepen, dark, cold, and chill, between her lover and her father; and the happy, buoyant Elsie grew pensive and thoughtful. General Garnet, with all his coldness, was studiously polite; and Magnus was self-possessed and social.
As this day passed—as far as the relative positions of some of the parties were concerned—so passed the weeks, and brought the day upon which Judge Wylie’s party was to be given.
There was a heavy cloud of thought and care upon the brow of General Garnet; and those who knew him well surmised that he was considering the best manner of transferring the hand of the heiress of Mount Calm from the poor doctor to the rich heir of Hemlock Hollow.
Magnus continued his visits, as usual, undisturbed by the freezing exterior of General Garnet.
Alice always received him with affection; and Elsie’s manner to him was earnest, affectionate, deferential, as if she wished to make up for her father’s coldness. She was no longer shy and diffident. It seemed as if the presentiment of some impending misfortune, which she felt rather than understood, had thrown down the barriers of her reserve, and that she could not do too much, in her sweet, feminine way, to assure Magnus of her unchangeable affection and unswerving truth. Her eyes waited on him, shyly, all day long, for her maiden pride was self-subdued, but not her maidenly delicacy. Elsie had no suspicion of what her father really meant until the morning of the day upon which Judge Wylie’s ball was to be given. General Garnet called Elsie into his room, and having explained in his polite way—he was polite even to his child—that circumstances beyond all human calculation or control had rendered it expedient that a new adjustment of affairs should take place, and that she must no longer look upon Magnus Hardcastle in the light of a suitor for her hand, but must, on the contrary, prepare herself to think of, and accept, Lionel Hardcastle, to whom he had given permission to visit her—Elsie opened wide her eyes in undisguised astonishment, that her father, her revered father, should ask her to break her plighted faith; but without one atom of terror, and without an instant’s hesitation, she answered:
“Why, father, being engaged to Magnus, with yours and mother’s consent, I would no more forsake him now than if I were already his wedded wife.”
“We shall see, Miss Garnet. I will give you time,” replied the General, in his soft, but sarcastic, manner.
“Father,” said Elsie, her cheek burning with shameand indignation, “if I should give you to suppose that any lapse of time could alter my determination, I should be a coward or a hypocrite. Father, I would not have engaged myself without your consent and my mother’s, for I should have felt that to be wrong; but having engaged myself with your consent and blessing, I will not break that engagement, come what may. I promised, with your approbation, to give my hand to Dr. Hardcastle on Thursday week, and Thursday week, father, I must do it. Dr. Hardcastle has lost an inheritance; an event which he rejoices in, since it gives his uncle back a dearly beloved and long-lost son. But he must not lose his wife, father; he shall not.”
General Garnet stood like one thunderstruck. His wife had never ventured to oppose his will, except
“To plead, lament, and sue,”
“To plead, lament, and sue,”
“To plead, lament, and sue,”
“To plead, lament, and sue,”
to avert some cruel deed. His servants had ever trembled before him. His very neighbors and associates had fallen into the habit of yielding to his inflexible will; and here was a little girl of seventeen years of age, with positively her own notions of right and wrong, of faith and infidelity, of honor and dishonor—and telling him, with a high, unblanching cheek, and a clear, unfaltering voice, that she meant to abide by right, and eschew wrong! He turned pale with suppressed rage; his eyes gleamed with their sinister light; he clenched his fist, and made one step towards her, but retreated again, and dropped his hand. The polished “gentleman” asserted its supremacy of habit over the angry “man.” It would not becomme-il-fautfor “General Garnet” to give “Miss Garnet” a good drubbing with his fists; besides, there was a look of calm, healthful moral strength about the mere child that forcibly impressed him.
“Father, this thing came suddenly upon me, and surprised me out of my self-possession, and the respect that is due to you. I spoke hastily, and, I fear, irreverently. I earnestly repent it, and ask your pardon. Forgive me,” said Elsie; and she approached, and would haveoffered herself in his embrace; but General Garnet extended his hand, and waved her off.
“Do I understand you to say, Miss Garnet, that you repent your foolish decision? If so, I am sincerely rejoiced to hear it.”
“No, sir. Always, father, and in all else, I will be your submissive child. But for this, sir, you, yourself, laid on me this other duty, which I cannot shake off. Forgive me.”
General Garnet looked at her steadily, while gleamed that red light from his dark eyes, and slowly shook his head, as communing with himself. Then, turning suddenly, and muttering something that sounded very much like a threat to “break her will or break her heart,” he left the room; and Elsie sank down in her chair, and leaning upon the windowsill, raised her eyes to heaven, “full of thought and prayer.”