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A Romantic Young Lady, a novel by Robert Grant |
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Book 1. Innocence - Chapter 6 |
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_ BOOK I. INNOCENCE CHAPTER VI I went to my room and bolted the door. Presently Aunt Helen knocked, but I declined to let her in. I felt grievously wronged. My father had trampled upon the most sacred sentiments of my soul. He had spurned and insulted the man I loved. What proofs had he of the charges he had brought? Dissipation! It could not be. I surely would have discovered this long ago if it had been true. Mercenary! Could he be called mercenary whom a high sense of honor had forbidden to assist me in the investment of my property? Good for nothing! Ah, my father did not know the noble impulses that underlay Roger Dale's unostentatious manner! I do not know how long it was before Aunt Helen knocked a second time, and said that my father had sent for me. It was probably not more than half an hour, but it had seemed to me an eternity. I was waiting for the summons, with the box containing my securities beside me; and with this in my hands I confronted my father once more in the parlor. He was no longer visibly angry. Both he and Roger were smoking, and sitting at ease as I entered. I took a chair close by my lover's side, and looked at him fondly. He returned my glance, but there was a shadow of annoyance in his expression that made me feel uneasy. It brought to my mind his face as I had noticed it the previous evening, when he spoke of my father's prejudice against him. At last my father saw fit to begin. He spoke in a deliberate, business-like tone, free from passion. "I have sent for you, Virginia, to repeat to you what I have already said to Mr. Dale. Once and for all, I will never give my consent to your marriage. I am utterly and radically opposed to it. I have been from the first, as you are aware. If you ask for my reasons, I do not consider this gentleman fitted to be my son-in-law. He has on his own admission no means to support a wife; he has no ambition or desire to excel, and I know from positive evidence that his habits are by no means exemplary." He paused, and I glanced anxiously at Roger; but his eyes were fixed on the floor, and he sat drumming gently on the table with the fingers of one hand. "If you persevere in this piece of folly contrary to my expressed wishes, you do it, Virginia, at your own peril, for I warn you that my resolution is fixed and cannot be shaken. Do not hope, either of you, by nursing the affair along to overcome my objections later. That is a favorite resort of young people in novels; but if fathers in real life are so weak in general, I shall prove an exception. As you know, Virginia, the part of a tyrannical parent is the last I ever expected to be called upon to play. I have allowed you every indulgence, and trusted you to an extent that I am beginning to believe was unwise. But I will not waste time in words; my resolution is perfectly explicit. My will is made in your favor. If I should die to-day, you would be mistress of all my property. Unless you promise me not to marry this man, I shall alter it to-morrow, and neither of you shall ever receive one cent from me during my lifetime or at my decease. This sounds like a threat, but it is only intended to show to the fullest extent in my power how fatal to your happiness I consider this union would be. I can say no more than this. I cannot prevent you from marrying Mr. Dale if you are bent upon it. There are no laws to punish foolish women or mercenary men; but you must take the consequences. What you have in that box," he continued, nodding towards me, "is all you will ever receive at my hands. If I am not mistaken, this young gentleman would play ducks-and-drakes with that in a very short time. I have said my say, and now you can suit yourselves." I had listened to his words with a constantly increasing indignation that overshadowed the remorse I felt at having disappointed his hopes. So incensed was I at his aspersions of Roger that I almost laughed when he spoke of disinheriting me. But the taunt that Roger was courting me for my money was most galling of all, by very force of reiteration. I started to my feet once more with a defiant air. "It is not true. You misjudge Mr. Dale cruelly. To show you, father, how free our love is from the base and paltry motives you impute, and that we do not need your help, see there!" I rushed through the open window which led to the piazza, and before either my father or Roger divined my intention, hurled with all my might the box of securities over the railing into the sea beneath. It opened just before reaching the water, and the contents were submerged by the seething surf. I re-entered the parlor with a triumphant air. Roger's face wore a half-scared look as he began to realize what I had done. "Mad girl!" cried my father with a sneer. "Mr. Dale will not thank you for that, I fancy. You have, however, done me an infinite service." He turned and left the room. When he was gone, exhausted and unnerved I buried my face on Roger's shoulder and sobbed bitterly. He tried to soothe me, and finally induced me to sit down. He sat beside me, holding my hand and urging me to calm myself. At last I turned to him and said with a sudden transport of new happiness, and smiling through my tears,-- "I promised to remain true to you, Roger, and I have." "Yes, dear, I know. When you are a little more composed, we will talk the matter over seriously." There was something in his tone that chilled me; he was so calm, and I so carried away by excitement. "Do not think of my father's words," I said. "Forget them. I shall be perfectly happy so long as you love me." "He will never relent," he answered gloomily. "He is known down town as a man who makes up his mind once for all time." "I would rather disobey my father than be false to you," I responded firmly. "Yes. But how are we to live?" he asked, rising from the sofa and promenading the room nervously, with his hands in his pockets. "Live?" I echoed. "Unfortunately we should have to eat and drink, like everybody else. It was a pity," he continued reflectively, "that you flung that money overboard; we might have been very comfortable with that." "Yes," I replied in a dazed sort of way. "Was it the whole?" He stood looking at me with his head on one side. "The whole of what?" "Was all the property your father gave you in that box?" "Certainly: I wonder you ask, Roger." He walked up and down a few times and then took a seat beside me. "Let us look at this matter in a common-sense way, Virginia. Heaven knows I love you, and that I am as romantic in my feelings as any one could desire. But suppose we were to marry without your father's consent, what would be the result? We should starve. To speak frankly, I find it difficult enough to make both ends meet as a single man. You are used to every luxury and comfort, and have not been accustomed to economize. Do not misunderstand me, Virginia," he continued, speaking quickly, struck perhaps by my expression, which if my emotions were adequately reflected therein must have made him uneasy. "I know that you are capable of any sacrifice; it is I who am unwilling to permit you to give up your fortune and your family for my sake. If there were any chance of your father's relenting, if I thought there was a possibility that time would make a difference in his views, I would not speak so. But as it is, I see no alternative for us but an unsuccessful struggle with poverty, that would end in unhappiness. It breaks my heart to come to this conclusion, but justice to you, as well as common-sense, will not let me suffer you to commit a folly which after the glamour of the moment was over, you would regret." It was the manner even more than the matter of his speech that stabbed me to the heart. Had he spoken less calmly and deliberately, I might have believed that he shrank from accepting my self-sacrifice, and have regarded his dampening words as a mere cloak for his own generosity. But his unconcerned and dispassionate air left no doubt in my mind that it was he who was unwilling to face the romantic but desperate circumstances in which my father's decree had placed us. Instinct told me that he in whose constancy and in whose devotion to ideality I had believed with all the ardor and trust of which I was capable, was false, and ready to subordinate a love like ours to temporal considerations. Yet with the persistence of one who clutches at any semblance of hope however slender, I refused to believe the truth without further evidence. "I should not be a burden to you, Roger. People can live on much less than they suppose. We could both work, I as well as you." He shrugged his shoulders, and taking both my hands in his looked into my face with a trivial smile, so little in accord with the intensity of my feelings that I almost shrieked with pain. "Do you think I would allow my dear girl to demean herself in any such way as that? No, no! Love in a cottage is a delightful theory, but put into practice it becomes terribly disappointing." I drew away my hands from him and sat for some moments in silence. "I think it is best that our engagement should come to an end," I said presently. He made a sigh of resignation. "That is for you to decide. It rests with you, of course." "I agree with you that it would be very foolish of us to marry without my father's consent, Mr. Dale." He drew himself up a little, and looked at me as if hurt. "Are you angry with me, Virginia?" "Angry? Why should I be angry?" "Then why call me Mr. Dale?" "Because," I answered quietly and firmly, though I felt my anger rising, "unless you are to be my husband, you must be Mr. Dale." "Can we not be friends?" he asked in a dejected tone. "We can never be anything else," I answered with some ambiguity; and I rose and rang the bell. The servant entered. "Tell Mr. Harlan, please, that I would like to speak to him." "I think we are acting for the best," he said, after an awkward pause. "I am sure we are, Mr. Dale." It was undignified, it may be, to betray my feelings, but my love was too strong to die without a murmur. My father looked inquiringly at us as he entered. His face seemed to me almost haggard. I said at once, "Father, we have made up our minds that you are right. It would be madness in us to marry without your consent. The credit of our decision belongs to Mr. Dale. He has proved to me that our engagement should come to an end." My father turned toward him with a scornful smile, appreciating, I think, the gentle sarcasm of my words. But I doubt if Roger did, for he added immediately,-- "Yes, sir; I cannot consent to the sacrifice your daughter is prepared to make." "I am glad that she as well as you have come to your senses, and I thank you for making the only amends possible for having endeavored to enter my family contrary to my desire, by teaching my daughter her duty. I have no doubt that we shall both be very grateful to you in the future." This time Roger perceived that he was being laughed at, for his cheeks flushed. But he recovered his composure, and looking at me, said,-- "I trust I may continue to come to see you as usual." I trembled all over at his words, but I controlled myself, and answered,-- "If you wish." After a few moments of awkward hesitancy he left us. When I knew that he was really gone, I could restrain myself no longer. Sinking into a chair, I covered my face with my hands and burst into a flood of tears. "Oh, father, he has deceived me! He has broken my heart!" _ |
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