Hearts Afire - By J. D. Rawden Page 0,33
love this one and then that one? If I were so light-of-love, contempt I should have from all, even from thee.”
“Now, I have something to say. I have heard that someone,—very like to thee,—someone went twice or three times with Mistress Gordon to see the man when he lay ill at the “King's Arms.” To such talk, my anger and my scorn soon put an end; and I will not ask of thee whether it be true, or whether it be false. For a young girl I can feel.”
“O father, if for me thou could feel!”
“See, now, if I thought this man would be to thee a good husband, I would forgive him his light, loose life, and his wicked way he talked to me, and give thee to him, with thy fortune and with my blessing. But I think he will be to thee a careless husband. He will get tired of thy beauty; thy goodness he will not value; thy money he will soon spend. Three sweethearts had he in town before thee. Their very names, I dare say, he hath forgotten ere this.”
“If Harleigh could make you sure, father, that he would be a good husband, would you then be content that we should be married?”
“That he cannot do. Can the leopard change his spots? This is what I fear: if thou marry Harleigh Daly, either thou must grow like him, or else he will hate thee, and make thee miserable.”
“Just a young woman I am. Let us not talk of husbands. Why are you so hurried, father, to give me to this Guy Barrington? Little is known of him but what he says.”
“The Van Heemskirks have known him a long time. They are very good at discerning character. And I am not in a hurry to give thee away. What I fear is, that thou wilt be a foolish woman, and give thyself away.”
Charlotte stood with dropped head, looking apparently at the brown earth, and the green box borders, and the shoots of white and purple and gold. But what she really saw, was the pale, handsome face of her sick Harleigh Daly.
Joris watched her curiously. The expression on her face he could not understand. “So happy she looks!” he thought, “and for what reason?” Charlotte was the first to speak.
“Who has told you anything about Harleigh Daly, father?”
“Many have spoken.”
“Does he get back his good health again?”
“I hear that. When the warm days come, to New York City he is going. So says Guy Barrington. What has Mistress Gordon told thee? For to see her I know thou goes.”
“Twice only have I been. I heard not of New York City.”
“But that is certain. He will go, and what then? Thee he will quite forget, and never more will thou see or hear tell of him.”
“That I believe not. In the cold winter one would have said of these flowers, “They come no more.” But the winter goes away, and then here they are. Harleigh has been in the dead valley. Sometimes I thought, he will come back to me no more. But now I am sure I shall see him again.”
Joris turned sadly away. That night he did not speak to her more. But he had the persistence which is usually associated with slow natures. He could not despair. He felt that he must go steadily on trying to move Charlotte to what he really believed was her highest interest. And he permitted nothing to discourage him for very long. Guy Barrington was also a prudent man. He had no intention in his wooing to make haste and lose speed. As to Charlotte's love troubles, he had not been left in ignorance of them. A great many people had given him such information as would enable him to keep his own heart from the wiles of the siren. He had also a wide knowledge of books and life, and in the light of this knowledge he thought that he could understand her. But the conclusion that he deliberately came to was, that Charlotte could not be understood.
Amid all these different elements, political, social, and domestic, Nature kept her own even, unvarying course. The gardens grew every day fairer, the air more soft and balmy, and the sunshine warmer and more cherishing. Charlotte was not unhappy. As Harleigh grew stronger, he spent his hours in writing long letters to Charlotte. He told her every trivial event, he commented on all she told him. And her letters