CHAPTER II.

THE LETTER OF INSTRUCTIONS.

'Good-night' and 'good-bye.' These words, uttered by Alston Griswold to certain departing guests as he stood on the top of what is called in New York the stoop (equivalent to our steps) outside his open door, gave a fresh turn to the last proceedings of the evening. Good-bye? Why, of course, he was going to Europe the next day; most of them had forgotten that, and many of them thought it a favourable opportunity for cracking another bottle of champagne to wish their host health, happiness, and a safe voyage. Those wishes for the prosperity of others, which always increase in fervour with the advance of the night and the circulation of the wine, were mingled with the expression of hopes from some that Griswold would not remain away long; that he was a representative New Yorker, one of their merchant princes, and a thoroughly good fellow, and of fears from others lest when he did come back he should be spoiled and Europeanised, as was the case with too many of them; but none of these expressions of doubt were whispered above the speaker's breath, while all the good-byes and God-speeds were loud and protracted, so that a man of less genial and kindly impulses than Alston Griswold might have been excused in indulging in a little self-gratification at the esteem in which he was held, and the regrets of losing him which were so loudly manifested.

The last guest had gone, and Griswold, after waving his farewell to them from the door, had turned back into the hall, when it suddenly struck him that his wife had not been present at these final joyous ceremonies. To stand well in her eyes, to have her as the mute witness of the honours paid him in acknowledgment of his social and commercial position, was his greatest pride, and he was vexed and angry to think that the warm compliments of which he had just been the recipient had been unheard by her.

He looked into the supper-room, but she was not there; into the ball-room, and there he found her on a seat at the far end, listless and dejected.

'Helen, what ails you?'

And all his anger vanished in an instant as she lifted up her eyes, and he saw they were filled with tears.

'Helen, my darling, what is the matter? Has anything happened?'

'Nothing, dear,' she said, in a low flat voice. 'Tell me, are the people all gone? every one, I mean? O, I am so glad!'

'You are over-fatigued, child, that is all,' said he, bending tenderly down to her.

'I wish it were all,' said Helen, rising and throwing herself into her husband's arms. 'I am so horribly wretched!'

'Wretched!' he repeated, with infinite tenderness. 'What makes you wretched, dear?'

'You do, and no one else. You are going to leave me, and it seems cruel and unkind of you.'

'My sweet Helen, those are very hard words, and--'

'I don't mean them harshly, Alston; but you have no idea how I dread your absence. If I have any influence with you, you will give up these plans and stay with me.'

'Put off my voyage now, on the very eve of my departure, with all my plans arranged? It would be impossible, Helen.'

'Nothing is impossible to you in business if you choose, Alston,' she replied; 'but you don't choose. You are carried away by the inordinate ambition to be rich. That contemptible money-worship, which is everywhere sapping the foundations of New York society, has you for one of its high-priests, and my comfort and my happiness are nothing in comparison with your desire for the accumulation of money.'

Griswold was silent for a moment, regarding her earnestly; then he pushed his hair from off his forehead, and with the faintest sigh and a grave smile, more in his eyes than on his lips, said,

'You are speaking hurriedly and like a woman, Helen, and do not, I am sure, mean half you say; but even if I have this wild desire for the accumulation of money, for whose sake is it indulged in, to whom is the acquired wealth devoted? Not, I think--' and a grave smile now broke on to his lips--'not, I think, to myself entirely. I go down town in the morning in the stage for ten cents, and I return on foot; my clothes are the standing topic for my friends' abuse and--'

'I know, Alston--I know it all. You are the least selfish of men; and it is for me and for my sake alone that you are condemning yourself to a life of slavery, and making both of us wretched. But this is precisely the reason why I am the person to enjoin you to give it up. We are quite rich enough for my ambition, dear. Stay with me, and let us enjoy together what we have. But for Heaven's sake do not leave me.'

'I love to hear you talk like this,' said he, putting his arm around her as she pillowed her head on his broad chest and looked up with soft entreaty into his face. 'It shows you to me as what I have always known you to be, the most affectionate and most trusting of God's creatures. But though I would give my life to save you a pang, what you now ask me is an impossibility. If I had had any idea that you would have taken my going away so much to heart, I would have endeavoured, though it would have been difficult, to send some one else in my place. At this late hour, however, it is impossible to make any such substitution, and it is imperative that I should go in person; not merely to look after my own business, but after very large interests of others, which have been staked on a guarantee that I would attend to them. Helen, darling, when you say that my inordinate ambition to be rich and my worship of money are greater than my love for you, you talk foolishly, and you know it. To part from you will half break my heart. I would willingly surrender all the profits, large though we expect them to be, of this projected undertaking, if by so doing I could remain with you; but I could not do so without a sacrifice of honour and credit; and, utterly unbusinesslike as you are, you know the meaning of those two words and the value which is necessarily attached to them. Do you understand me, child?'

'Yes,' she said, wiping the traces of tears from her face and looking up at him almost calmly, 'I understand all you say, and I see there is nothing for me to do but to acquiesce in the arrangement. Only understand one thing, Alston; this protest of mine against your leaving me is not the mere pettish fancy of a woman who hates to be alone, or who is possessed by any absurd jealousy as to what may be her husband's proceedings during his absence--you and I understand each other too well for any nonsense of that sort; but I hate you going away on this voyage, Alston. I have had a presentiment about it which nothing can dispel, though which I should find impossible to explain. However, it is useless saying any more about it; only promise me one thing, that you will never undertake such a voyage again.'

'I promise; that is to say, I promise never to sail again for Europe unless you go with me. O, you need not purse your little mouth up in that manner! Charley Vanderlip tells me that his friend Dillon, who has just returned from the other side, vows that Europe is the only place in the world fit to live in.'

'Then Mr. Dillon is a--never mind; I will say not a good American citizen,' said Helen, tossing her head. 'Do you know what o'clock it is, Alston?'

'Late enough,' said Alston, looking at his watch; 'but I have some work to do in the library before I can think of rest.'

'I will join you there, then,' said Helen, rising. 'I am not in the least sleepy, only I must first get rid of this stiff silk dress, and these bracelets and jewels. I can then send that wretched Hortense to bed, and I will be down again in five minutes.'

Alston Griswold leaned back in his chair, and looked long and lovingly at his wife as she glided away, and at the spot which she had occupied after she had passed out of his sight. Then his brow darkened, and he thrust his hands deeply into his pockets as he slowly rose from his seat.

Did he share the presentiment as to his departure which his wife had confessed? Not the least in the world. He was by far too practical a man of business to have given way to any such folly. But the word--and yet-- No, it would be madness. He would be the laughing-stock of Wall-street and the butt of his clubs if he allowed a woman's weakness to influence him in a matter where three or four millions were involved, and in the conduct of which his reputation and his fortune would be made or marred. He would close up his preparations at once, and the first thing to be attended to was that letter of instructions.

Acting at once upon this determination, he crossed the hall and entered the library--an old room furnished with black oak, and entirely surrounded with antique bookcases filled with a choice collection, which, indeed, their owner never opened, but which were Helen's greatest resource and delight. On the other side of the large open folding-doors were the supper-rooms, the lights in which were still burning, though the tables had been cleared ere the servants retired to rest. Griswold looked somewhat surprised when he saw the room still lighted, and was on the point of ringing the bell; but remembering there was no one to answer it, he turned back into the library, lit a cigar, and seating himself at the writing-table, took from one of the drawers a sheet of paper, two sides of which were already covered.

By the shaded light of the kerosene lamp, which stood upon the writing-table, Griswold read this paper carefully through; then laying it down before him, fell into a train of thought. 'It looks innocent enough,' he said; 'it might be what I shall tell her it is, when I put into her hand--a mere paper on business, to be read at a future time--and yet to think how all-powerful it will be, or ought to be, in the event of anything happening to me. To be read at some future time, eh! I think I can see the scene which will occur at that future time plainly enough; what a commotion there would be in Wall-street, what an anxiety amongst a certain set to know whether I had carried out the commission with which I had been intrusted, before I died. The commission with which I have been intrusted, that is what they would be anxious about--not me, their agent; only poor Helen would think of me. What she said just now about her little regard for wealth was true enough. If the enterprise succeeded, she would be rich as an empress; if it failed, she would have comparatively little to live upon; but in neither case would she care much, I flatter myself, if I were gone. The joys or the woes of life would affect her equally little if I were not there to share them with her. What a wretchedly gloomy train of thought I have fallen into!' he muttered, half aloud, striking his hand upon the desk. 'Hundreds of men go to and return from Europe every week; it is the boast of the Cunard Company that they have never lost a passenger, and yet here am I, in rude health and strength, picturing to myself what is to happen after my immediately approaching death. Helen must have innoculated me with a touch of her presentiment; however, I will shake it off at once. I will finish this letter of instructions, for it is better for her in any contingency to know exactly how she stands, and then I will get some rest, of which I fancy I am more than usually in need.'

He drew the paper towards him again, and bending over the desk commenced writing earnestly. From time to time he paused in his occupation and stared earnestly before him, as though weighing certain matters in his mind before committing his thoughts to paper. At length, after about ten minutes' work, he came to the end of his task; and, having folded the letter, placed it into an envelope, and was about to return it to the drawer, when he suddenly stopped.

'No,' he muttered; 'in her present state of mind it is best to be prudent over such a matter as this. I will not leave it behind for her and tell her where it is; I will not give it to her myself, for she is but a woman, and her woman's curiosity might impel her to open it at once, and that would certainly impose a scene between us; I will send it to her to-morrow by Warren. Helen will not come down to the wharf; Warren is sure to be there to see me off, and I will send the letter to her by him. I have only him to trust to for seeing after her while I am away, and this little commission will break the ice between them, and show her to him--though he has never properly valued her--in colours that must compel him to acknowledge her the perfect wife she is.'

So saying, he sealed the letter and deposited it in his pocket-book, after restoring which to his breast he continued his musing.

'What a wonderful stroke of luck for me, situated as I am, to have made such a friend as Trenton Warren! He will be indispensable to Helen, and to me as the means of communication with her. I must get all her letters through him, for I could never make her simple heart and unbusiness-like head comprehend the necessity for my taking a false name in England. She would be frightened at the mere idea, and she must never know it. This necessity alone would oblige me to endeavour to establish thoroughly good relations between Helen and Trenton Warren before I sail to-morrow.'

'Before I sail to-morrow.' The words turned his mind into a new train of thought. Absorbed, he let his chin recline upon his breast, and did not notice Helen's entrance at the other end of the supper-room. She was clad in a loose dressing-gown and looked lovely, with her hair hanging around her shoulders.

When she had progressed halfway up the room, her eyes were attracted by something shining on the ground just in front of her. Stooping and picking the object up, she found it to be a portion of a sleeve-link, an engraved cameo in a gold setting; the gold work had been twisted and broken under the feet of the throng. All this Helen saw at a glance; but placing it in the pocket of her dressing-gown, she thought no more of it, and entered the library to join her husband.