"I see that I must speak plainly," said that lady, solemnly, "and I will commence by saying, Redbud, that the whole male s.e.x are always engaged in endeavoring to make an impression on the hearts of the other s.e.x. The object to which every young man, without exception, dedicates his life, is to gain the ascendancy over the heart of some young person of the opposite s.e.x; and they well know that when this ascendancy is gained, breaking it is often more than human power can accomplish. Young girls should carefully avoid all this, and should always remember that the intimacies formed in early life, last, generally, throughout their whole existence."
Redbud looked down, and felt a strong disposition to wipe her eyes.
Miss Lavinia proceeded, like an ancient oracle, impa.s.sible and infallible.
"Now, I mean, Redbud," she said, "that while Verty may be, and no doubt is, all that you could wish in a friend, you still ought not to encourage him, and continue your injudicious friendship. Far be it from me to insist upon the necessity of cla.s.ses in the community, and the impropriety of marrying those who are uncongenial in taste and habit, and--"
"Marrying, ma"am!" exclaimed Redbud--then she stopped.
"Yes, Redbud," said Miss Lavinia, with dignity, "and nothing will persuade me that this young man has not conceived the design of marrying you. I do not say, mind me, that he is actuated by unworthy motives--I have no right to. I do not believe that this young man has ever reflected that Apple Orchard, a very fine estate, will some day be yours. I only say that, like all youths, he has set his heart upon possessing your hand, and that he is not a proper husband for you."
Having uttered this downright and unmistakeable opinion, Miss Lavinia raised her head with dignity, and smoothed down her silk dress with solemn grace.
As to poor Redbud, she could only lean her head on her hand, and endeavor to suppress her gathering tears.
"Verty is an Indian, and a young man of obscure birth--wholly uneducated, and, generally speaking, a savage, though a harmless one,"
said the lady, returning to the charge. "Now, Redbud, you cannot fail to perceive that it is impossible for you to marry an Indian whom n.o.body knows anything about. Your family have claims upon you, and these you cannot disregard, and unite yourself to one of an inferior race, who--"
"Oh, cousin Lavinia! cousin Lavinia!" cried Redbud, with a gush of tears, "please don"t talk to me anymore about this; you make me feel so badly! Verty never said a word to me about marrying, and it would be foolish. Marry! Oh! you know I am nothing but a child, and you make me very unhappy by talking so."
Redbud leaned her forehead on her hand, and wiped away the tears running down her cheeks.
"It is not agreeable to me to mention this subject," Miss Lavinia said, solemnly, smoothing Redbud"s disordered hair, "but I consider it my duty, child. You have said truly that you are still very young, and that it is ridiculous to talk about your being married. But, Redbud, the day will come when you will be a woman, and then you will find this intimacy with Verty a stone around your neck. I wish to warn you in time. These early friendships are only productive of suffering, when in course of time they must be dissolved. I wish to ward off this suffering from you!"
"Oh, ma"am!" sobbed Redbud.
"I love you very much."
"Yes, ma"am."
"And as I have more experience than you," said Miss Lavinia, grimly--"more knowledge of the wiles of men, I consider it my duty to direct your conduct."
"Yes, ma"am," said Redbud, seeing the wall closing round her inexorably.
"If, then, you would spare Verty suffering, as well as yourself, you will gradually place your relations on a different basis."
"On--a--dif--ferent--basis," said Redbud; "Yes, ma"am."
"It may be done," said Miss Lavinia; "and do not understand me, child, to counsel an abrupt and violent breaking off of all the ties between yourself and this young man."
"No, ma"am."
"You may do it gradually; make your demeanor toward him calmer at every interview--if he must come--do not have so many confidential conversations--never call him "Verty""--
"Oh, ma"am!" said Redbud, "but I can"t call him Mr. Verty."
"Don"t call him anything," said the astute enemy of the male s.e.x, "and gradually add "sir" to the end of your observations. In this manner, Redbud, you may place your relations on an entirely different footing."
"Yes, ma"am!"
Miss Lavinia looked at the child for some moments with a singular expression of commiseration. Then smoothing the small head again, she said more softly:--
"What I advise is for your own good, Redbud. I only aim at your happiness. Pursue the plan I have indicated, and whenever you can, avoid this young man--as you will both suffer. Men, men," murmured Miss Lavinia, "they are our masters, and ask nothing better than that delightful tribute to their power--a broken heart."
"Yes, yes, Redbud," said the solemn lady, rising, "this advice I have given you is well worthy of your attention. Both you and this young man will undergo cruel suffering if you persist in your present relations. I will say no more. I have done my duty, and I am sure you will not think that I am actuated by old-maidish scruples, and have made a bugbear for myself. I love you, Redbud, as well as I love any one in the world, and all I have said is for your good. Now I must go."
And Miss Lavinia solemnly enclosed the weeping girl in her arms, and returned to her carriage. Before her sailed Miss Sallianna, smiling and languishing--her eyes upon the sky, and uttering the most elegant compliments. These were received by Miss Lavinia with grave politeness; and finally the two ladies inclined their heads to each other, and the carriage drove off toward Winchester, followed by Redbud"s eye. That young lady was standing at the window, refusing to be comforted by her friend f.a.n.n.y--who had given her the pigeon, it will be remembered--and obstinately bent on proving to herself that she was the most wretched young lady who had ever existed.
Meanwhile Miss Lavinia continued her way, gazing in a dignified att.i.tude from the window of her carriage. Just as she reached the bottom of the hill, what was her horror to perceive a cavalier approach from the opposite direction--an elegant cavalier, mounted on a s.h.a.ggy horse, and followed by a long-eared hound--in whose richly clad person she recognized the whilom forest boy.
Miss Lavinia held up both her hands, and uttered an exclamation of horror.
As to Verty, he pa.s.sed rapidly, with a fascinating smile, saying, as he disappeared:--
"I hope you gave my love to Redbud, Miss Lavinia!"
Miss Lavinia could only gasp.
CHAPTER XIX.
ONLY A FEW TEARS.
The theories of Miss Lavinia upon life and matrimony had so much truth in them, in spite of the address and peculiarities of the opinions upon which they were based, that Redbud was compelled to acknowledge their justness; and, as a consequence of this acknowledgment, to shape her future demeanor toward the young man in conformity with the advice of her mentor.
Therefore, when Miss Redbud saw Verty approach, clad in his new costume, and radiant with happy expectation, she hastily left the window at which she had been standing, and, in the depths of her chamber, sought for strength and consolation.
Let no one deride the innocent prayer of the child, and say that it was folly, and unworthy of her. The woes of youth are not our woes, and the iron mace which strikes down the stalwart man, falls not more heavily upon his strong shoulders, than does the straw which bears to the earth the weak heart of childhood.
Then, when the man frowns, and clenches his hand against the hostile fate pressing upon him, the child only weeps, and endeavors to avoid the suffering.
Redbud suffered no little. She loved Verty very sincerely as the playmate of her earlier years, and the confidential friend of her happiest hours. The feeling which was ripening in her heart had not yet revealed itself, and she felt that the barrier now raised between herself and the young man was cruel. But, then, suddenly, she would recollect Miss Lavinia"s words, recall that warning, that they both would suffer--and so poor Redbud was very unhappy--very much confused--not at all like herself.
We have said very little of this child"s character, preferring rather to let the current of our narrative reflect her pure features from its surface, as it flowed on through those old border days which were ill.u.s.trated and adorned by the soft music of her voice, the kindness of her smile. Perhaps, however, this is a favorable occasion to lay before the reader what was written by a poor pen, in after years, about the child, by one who had loved, and been rendered purer by her. Some one, no matter who, had said to him one day--"Tell me about little Redbud, whom you praise so much"--and he had taken his pen and written--
"How can I? There are some figures that cannot be painted, as there are some melodies which cannot be uttered by the softest wind which ever swept the harp of Aeolus. You can scarcely delineate a star, and the glories of the sunset die away, and live not upon canvas. How difficult, then, the task you have imposed upon me, _amigo mio_--to seal up in a wicker flask that moonlight; chain down, by words, that flitting and almost imperceptible perfume--to tell you anything about that music which, embodied in a material form, was known as Redbud!
"Observe how I linger on the threshold, and strive to evade what I have promised to perform. What can I say of the little friend who made so many of my hours pure sunshine? She was the most graceful creature I have ever seen, I think, and surely merrier lips and eyes were never seen--eyes very blue and soft--hair golden, and flowing like sunset on her shoulders--a mouth which had a charming archness in it--and withal an innocence and modesty which made one purer. These were the first traits of the child, she was scarcely more, which struck a stranger.
But she grew in beauty as you conversed with her. She had the most delightful voice I have ever heard--the kindest and most tender smile; and one could not long be in her company without feeling that good fortune had at last thrown him with one of those pure beings which seem to be sent down to the earth, from time to time, to show us, poor work-a-day mortals, that there are scales of existence, links as it were, between the inhabitants of this world and the angels: for the heavenly goodness, which sent into the circle which I lived in such a pure ray of the dawn, to verify and illumine the pathway of my life--thanks--thanks!
"How beautiful and graceful she was! When she ran along, singing, her fair golden locks rippling back from her pure brow and rosy cheeks, I thought a sunbeam came and went with her. The secret of Redbud"s universal popularity--for everybody loved her--was, undoubtedly, that love which she felt for every one around her. There was so much tenderness and kindness in her heart, that it shone in her countenance, and spoke plainly in her eyes. Upon the lips, what a guileless innocence and softness!--in the kind, frank eyes, what all-embracing love for G.o.d"s creatures everywhere! She would not tread upon a worm; and I recollect to this day, what an agony of tears she fell into upon one occasion, when some boys killed the young of an oriole, and the poor bird sat singing its soul away for grief upon the poplar.
"Redbud had a strong vein of piety in her character; and this crowning grace gave to her an inexpressible charm. Whatever men may say, there are few who do not reverence, and hope to find in those they love, this feeling. The world is a hard school, and men must strike alone everywhere. In the struggle, it is almost impossible to prevent the mind from gathering those bitter experiences which soil it. It is so hard not to hate so tremendous a task, to strangle that harsh and acrid emotion of contempt, which is so apt to subdue us, and make the mind the hue of what it works in, "like the dyer"s hand." Men feel the necessity of something purer than themselves, on which to lean; and this they find in woman, with the nutriment I have spoken of--the piety of this child. It did not make her grave, but cheerful; and nothing could be imagined more delightful, than her smiles and laughter. Sometimes, it is true, you might perceive upon her brow what resembled the shadow of a cloud floating over the bright autumn fields--and in her eyes a thoughtful dew, which made them swim, veiling their light from you; but this was seldom. As I have spoken of her, such she was--a bright spirit, who seemed to scatter around her joy and laughter, gilding all the world she lived in with the kindness of her smiles.
"Such, _amigo mio_, was little Redbud when I knew her; and I have spoken of her as well as I could. No one can be more conscious of the insufficiency of my outline than myself. My only excuse is, a want of that faculty of the brain which--uniting memory, that is to say, the heart, with criticism, which is the intellect--is able to embody with the lips, or the pen, such figures as have appeared upon the horizon of life. I can only say that I never went near the child, but I was made better by her sincere voice. I never took her hand in my own, but a nameless influence seemed to enter into my heart, and purify it. And now, _amigo_, I have written it all, and you may laugh at me for my pains; but that is not a matter of very great importance. Farewell!"