Chapter 28

their ears, like the far-off sounds we hear at night from woods or the sea, whose face was ineffaceably marked, whose air impressed with a sense of mystery. I think both would have annihilated my personality if possible, for the sake of comprehending me, for both loved me in their way.

"What are you reading, father?" asked Veronica suddenly.

"To-day's letters, and I must be off for Boston; would you like to go?"

"My sister Adelaide has sent for you, Cassandra, to visit us," said Ben, "and will you go too, Veronica?"

"Thanks, I must decline. If Cass should go--and she will--I may go to Boston."

He looked at her curiously. "It would not be pleasant for you to attempt Belem. I hate it, but I feel a fate-impelling power in regard to Cassandra; I want her there."

"May I go then?" I asked.

"Certainly," father replied.

"Please come out to supper," called Fanny. "We have something particular for you, Mr. Morgeson."

We saw mother at the table, a book in her hand. She was finishing a chapter in "The Hour and the Man." Aunt Merce stood eyeing the dishes with the aspect of a judge. As father took his seat, near Veronica, Fanny, according to habit, stood behind it. With the most _degagé_ air, Ben suffered nothing to escape him, and I never forgot the picture of that moment.

We talked of Helen's visit--a subject that could be commented on freely. Veronica told Ben Helen's opinion of him; he reddened slightly, and said that such a sage could not be contradicted. When father remarked that the opinions of women were whimsical, Fanny gave an audible sniff, which made Ben smile.

Soon after tea I met Veronica in the hall, with a note in her hand. She stopped and hesitatingly said that she was going to send for Temperance; she wanted her while Mr. Somers stayed.

"Your forethought astonishes me."

"She is a comfort always to me."

"Do you stand in especial need of a comforter?"

She looked puzzled, laughed, and left me.

Temperance arrived that evening, in time to administer a scolding to Fanny.

"That girl needs looking after," she said. "She is as sharp as a needle. She met me in the yard and told me that a man fit for a nobleman had come on a visit. 'It may be for Cass,' says she, 'and it may not be. I have my doubts.' Did you ever?" concluded Temperance, counting the knives. "There's one missing. By jingo! it has been thrown to the pigs, I'll bet."

When Ben made a show of going, we asked him to stay longer. He said "Yes," so cordially, that we laughed. But it hurt me to see that he had forgotten all about my going to Belem. "I like Surrey so much," he said, "and you all, I have a fancy that I am in the Hebrides, in Magnus Troil's dwelling; it is so wild here, so _naïve_. The unadulterated taste of sea-spray is most beautiful."

"We will have Cass for Norna," said Verry; "but, by the way, it is you that must be of the fitful head; have you forgotten that she is going to Belem soon?"

"I shall remember Belem in good time; no fear of my forgetting that ace--ancient spot. At least I may wait till your father goes to Boston, and we can make a party. You will be ready, Cassandra? I wrote Adelaide yesterday that you were coming, and mother will expect you."

It often stormed during his visit. We had driving rains, and a gale from the southeast, oceanward, which made our sea dark and miry, even after the storm had ceased and patches of blue sky were visible.

Our rendezvous was in the parlor, which, from the way in which Ben knocked about the furniture, cushions, and books, assumed an air which somehow subdued Veronica's love for order; she played for him, or they read together, and sometimes talked; he taught her chess, and then they quarreled. One day--a long one to me,--they were so much absorbed in each other, I did not seek them till dusk.

"Come and sing to me," called Ben.

"So you remember that I do sing?"

"Sing; there is a spell in this weird twilight; sing, or I go out on the rocks to break it."

He dropped the window curtains and sat by me at the piano, and I sang:

"I feel the breath of the summer night, Aromatic fire; The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir With tender desire.

"If I were alone, I could not sing, Praises to thee; O night! unveil the beautiful soul That awaiteth me!"

"A foolish song," said Veronica, pulling her hair across her face. No reply. She glided to the flower-basket, broke a rosebud from its stalk, and mutely offered it to him. Whether he took it, I know not; but he rose up from beside me, like a dark cloud, and my eyes followed him.

"Come Veronica," he whispered, "give me yourself. I love you, Veronica."

He sank down before her; she clasped her hands round his head, and kissed his hair.

"I know it," she said, in a clear voice.

I shut the door softly, thinking of the Wandering Jew, went upstairs, humming a little air between my teeth, and came down again into the dining-room, which was in a blaze of light.

"What preserves are these, Temperance?" I asked, going to the table. "Some of Abram's quinces?"

"Best you ever tasted, since you were born."

"Call Mr. Somers, Fanny," said mother. "Is Verry in the parlor, too?"

"I'll call them," I said; "I have left my handkerchief there."

"Is anything else of yours there?" said Fanny, close to my ear.

Ben had pushed back the curtain, and was staring into the darkness; Veronica was walking to and fro on the rug.

"Haven't I a great musical talent?" I inquired.

"Am I happy?" she asked, coming toward me.

Ben turned to speak, but Veronica put her hand over his mouth, and said:

"Why should I be 'hushed,' my darling?"

"Come to supper, and be sensible," I urged.

The light revealed a new expression in Verry's face--an unsettled, dispossessed look; her brows were knitted, yet she smiled over and over again, while she seemed hardly aware that she was eating like an ordinary mortal. The imp Fanny tried experiments with her, by offering the same dishes repeatedly, till her plate was piled high with food she did not taste.

The next day was clear, and mild with spring. Ben and I started for a walk on the shore. We were half-way to the lighthouse before he asked why it was that Veronica would not come with us.

"She never walks by the shore; she detests the sea."

"Is it so? I did not know that."

"Do you mind that you know few of her tastes or habits? I speak of this as a general truth."

"I am a spectacle to you, I suppose. But this sea charms me; I shall live by it, and build a house with all the windows and doors toward it."

"Not if you mean to have Verry in it."

"I do mean to have her in it. She shall like it. Are you willing to have me for a brother? Will you go to Belem, and help break the ice? _She_ could never go," and he began to skip pebbles in the water.

"I will take you for a brother gladly. You are a fool--not for loving her, but all men are fools when in love, they are so besotted with themselves. But I am afraid of one fault in you."

"Yes," he answered hurriedly, "don't I know? On my honor, I have tried; why not leave me to God? Didn't you leave yourself that way once?"

"Oh, you are cruel."

"Pardon me, dear Cass. I _must_ do well now, surely. Will you believe in me? Oh, do you not know the strength, the power, that comes to us in the stress of passion and duty?"

"This is from _you_, Ben."

"Never mind; I knew I wanted to marry her, when I saw her. I love her passionately," and he threw a pebble in the water farther than he had yet; "but she is so pure, so delicate, that when I approach her, in spite of my besottedness, my love grows lambent. That's not like me, you know," with great vehemence. "Will she never understand me?"

His face darkened, and he looked so strangely intent into my eyes that I was obliged to turn away; he disturbed me.

"Veronica probably will not understand you, but you must manage for yourself. As you have discerned, she and I are far apart. She is pure, noble, beautiful, and peculiar. I will have no voice between you."

"You must, you do. We shall hear it if you do not speak. You have a great power, tall enchantress."

"Certainly. What a powerful life is mine!"

"You come to these shores often. Are you not different beside them? This colorless picture before us--these vague spaces of sea and land--the motion of the one--the stillness of the other--have you no sense that you have a powerful spirit?"

"Is it power? It is pain."

"Your gold has not been refined then."

"Yes, I confess I have a sense of power; but it is not a spiritual sense."

"Let us go back," he said abruptly.

We mused by our footprints in the wet sand, as we passed them. We were told when we reached home that Veronica had gone on some expedition with Fanny. She did not return till time for supper, looking elfish, and behaving whimsically, as if she had received instructions accordingly. I fancied that the expression Ben regarded her with might be the Bellevue Pickersgill expression, it was so different from any I had seen. There was a haughty curiosity in his face; as she passed near him, he looked into her eyes, and saw the strange cast which made their sight so far off.

"Veronica, where are you?" he asked.

The tone of his voice attracted mother's regards; an intelligent glance was exchanged, and then her eyes sought mine. "It is not as you thought, mamma," I telegraphed. But Verry, not bringing her eyes back into the world, merely said, "I am here, am I not?" and went to shut herself up in her room. I found her there, looking through the wicket.

"The buds are beginning to swell," she said. "I should hear small voices breaking out from the earth. I grow happy every day now."

"Because the earth will be green again?" I asked, in a coaxing voice.

She shut the wicket, and, looking in my face, said, "I will go down immediately." For some reason the tears came into my eyes, which she, taking up the candle, saw. "I am going to play," she said hurriedly, "come." She ran down before me, but turning, by the foot of the stairs, she pointed to the parlor door, and said, "Is he my husband?"

"Answer for yourself. Go in, in God's name."

Ben was chatting with father over the fire; he stretched out his hand to her, with so firm and assured an air, and looked so noble, that I felt a pang of admiration for him. She laid her hand in his a moment, passed on to the piano, and began to play divinely, drawing him to her side. Father peeled and twisted his cigar, as he contemplated them with a thoughtful countenance.