Child, years have not dealt lightly with me since then. I am no longer a young man. Look here!" He threw off his hat, and, pa.s.sing his fingers through his curling hair, she saw, here and there, streaks of silver. He watched her as she noted it. She saw, too, how haggard he looked, now that the light fell full on his pale face.
The splendid, dark eyes were unaltered, and, as they looked down into hers, tears gathered on her lashes, her lips trembled, and, throwing her arms again round his neck, she laid her face on his shoulder.
"Beulah, do you cling to me because you love me? or because you pity me? or because you are grateful to me for past love and kindness?
Answer me, Beulah."
"Because you are my all."
"How long have I been your all?"
"Oh, longer than I knew myself!" was the evasive reply.
He tried to look at her, but she pressed her face close to his shoulder and would not suffer it.
"Beulah!"
"Sir."
"Oh, don"t "sir" me, child! I want to know the truth, and you will not satisfy me."
"I have told you the truth."
"Have you learned that fame is an icy shadow? that gratified ambition cannot make you happy? Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Better than teaching school and writing learned articles?"
"Rather better, I believe, sir."
"Beulah!"
"Well, sir."
"You have changed in many things since we parted, nearly six years ago!"
"Yes; I thank G.o.d, I am changed. My infidelity was a source of many sorrows; but the clouds have pa.s.sed from my mind; I have found the truth in Holy Writ." Now she raised her head, and looked at him very earnestly.
"Child, does your faith make you happy?"
"Yes; the universe could not purchase it," she answered solemnly.
There was a brief silence. He put both hands on her shoulders, and, stooping down, kissed her brow.
"And you prayed for me, Beulah?"
"Yes; evening and morning. Prayed that you might be shielded from all dangers and brought safely home. And there was one other thing which I prayed for not less fervently than for your return: that G.o.d would melt your hard, bitter heart, and give you a knowledge of the truth of the Christian religion. Oh, sir, I thought sometimes that possibly you might die in a far-off land, and then I should see you no more, in time or eternity! and oh, the thought nearly drove me wild! My guardian, my all, let me not have prayed in vain." She clasped his hand in hers, and looked up pleadingly into the loved face; and, for the first time in her life, she saw tears glistening in the burning eyes. He said nothing, however; took her face in his hands, and scanned it earnestly, as if reading all that had pa.s.sed during his long absence. Presently he asked:
"So you would not marry Lindsay and go to Congress. Why not?"
"Who told you anything about him?"
"No matter. Why did not you marry him?"
"Because I did not love him."
"He is a n.o.ble-hearted, generous man."
"Yes, very; I do not know his superior."
"What!"
"I mean what I say," said she firmly.
He smiled, one of his genial, irresistible smiles; and she smiled also, despite herself. "Give me your hand, Beulah?"
She did so very quietly.
"There--is it mine?"
"Yes, sir; if you want it."
"And may I claim it as soon as I choose?"
"Yes, sir."
She had never seen him look as he did then. His face kindled, as if in a broad flash of light; the eyes dazzled her, and she turned her face away, as he drew her once more to his bosom, and exclaimed:
"At last, then, after years of sorrow, and pain, and bitterness, I shall be happy in my own home; shall have a wife, a companion, who loves me for myself alone. Ah, Beulah, my idol; I will make you happy!"
The rain fell heavily, and it grew dark, for the night came rapidly down. There was a furious ringing of the library bell; the doctor had come home, and, as usual, wanted half a dozen things at once.
"Have you seen Dr. Asbury?"
"No. I came directly to the house; saw no one as I entered; and, hearing the melodeon, followed the sound."
"What a joyful surprise it will be to him!" said Beulah, closing the window and locking the melodeon. She led the way down the steps, followed by her guardian and Charon. "Suppose you wait a while in the music room? It adjoins the library, and you can see and hear without being seen." suggested she, with her hand on the bolt of the door. He a.s.sented, and stood near the threshold which connected the rooms, while Beulah went into the library. The gas burned brightly, and the doctor sat leaning far back in his armchair, with his feet on an ottoman. His wife stood near him, stroking the gray hair from his furrowed brow.
"Alice, I wish, dear, you would get me an iced lemonade, will you?"
"Let me make it for you," said Beulah, coming forward.
"Not you! At your peril, you touch it. You are overfond of the sour, miss. Alice knows exactly how to suit me."
"So you have turned homeopathist? take acids to--"
"None of your observations, if you please. Just be good enough to open the shutters, will you? It is as hot in this room as if the equator ran between my feet and the wall. Charming weather, eh? And still more charming prospect, that I shall have to go out into it again before bedtime. One of my delectable patients has taken it into his head to treat his wife and children to a rare show, in the shape of a fit of mania-a-potu; and, ten to one, I shall have to play spectator all night." He yawned as he spoke.
"You have an arduous time indeed," began Beulah; but he hastily put in: