She gave orders for the fire, and went herself to see that it burned.
Soon I was sitting before it, my feet on a stool, and a poker in my hand with which I smashed the smoky lumps of coal which smoldered in the grate.
I stayed there all day, looking out of the window when I heard the horses tramp in the stable or a step on the piazza. It was a dull November day; the atmosphere was glutinous with a pale mist, which made the leaves stick together in bunches, helplessly c.u.mbering the ground. The boughs dropped silent tears over them, under the gray, pitiless sky. I read Byron, which was the only book in the house, I believe; for neither Charles nor Alice read anything except the newspapers. I looked over my small stores also, and my papers, which consisted of father"s letters. As I was sorting them the thought struck me of writing to Veronica, and I arranged my portfolio, pulled the table nearer the fire, and began, "Dear Veronica." After writing this a few times I gave it up, cut off the "Dear Veronicas," and made lamplighters of the paper.
Ben Somers called at noon, to inquire the reason of my absence from school, and left a book for me. It was the poems he had spoken of.
I lighted on "Fatima," read it and copied it. In the afternoon Alice came up with the baby.
"Let me braid your hair," she said, "in a different fashion."
I a.s.sented; the baby was bestowed on a rug, and a chair was put before the gla.s.s, that I might witness the operation.
"What magnificent hair!" she said, as she unrolled it. "It is a yard long."
"It is a regular mane, isn"t it?"
She began combing it; the baby crawled under the bed, and coming out with the handkerchief in its hand, crept up to her, trying to make her take it. She had combed my hair over my face, but I saw it.
"Do I hurt you, Ca.s.s?"
"No, do I ever hurt you, Alice?" And I divided the long bands over my eyes, and looked up at her.
"Were any of your family ever cracked? I have long suspected you of a disposition that way."
"The child is choking itself with that handkerchief."
She took it, and, tossing it on the bed, gave Byron to the child to play with, and went on with the hair-dressing.
"There, now," she said, "is not this a masterpiece of barber"s craft?
Look at the back of your head, and then come down."
"Yes, I will, for I feel better."
When I returned to my room again it was like meeting a confidential friend.
A few days after, father came to Rosville. I invited Ben Somers and Helen to spend with us the only evening he stayed. After they were gone, we sat in my room and talked over many matters. His spirits were not as buoyant as usual, and I felt an undefinable anxiety which I did not mention. When he said that mother was more abstracted than ever, he sighed. I asked him how many years he thought I must waste; eighteen had already gone for nothing.
"You must go in the way ordained, waste or no waste. I have tried to make your life differ from mine at the same age, for you are like me, and I wanted to see the result."
"We shall see."
"Veronica has been let alone--is master of herself, except when in a rage. She is an extraordinary girl; independent of kith and kin, and everything else. I a.s.sure you, Miss Ca.s.sy, she is very good."
"Does she ever ask for me?"
"I never heard her mention your name but once. She asked one day what your teachers were. You do not love each other, I suppose. What hatred there is between near relations! Bitter, bitter," he said calmly, as if he thought of some object incapable of the hatred he spoke of.
"That"s Grandfather John Morgeson you think of. I do not hate Veronica. I think I love her; at least she interests me."
"The same creeping in the blood of us all, Ca.s.sy. I did not like my father; but thank G.o.d I behaved decently toward him. It must be late."
As he kissed me, and we stood face to face, I recognized my likeness to him. "He has had experiences that I shall never know," I thought.
"Why should I tell him mine?" But an overpowering impulse seized me to speak to him of Charles. "Father," and I put my hands on his shoulders. He set his candle back on the table.
"You look hungry-eyed, eager. What is it? Are you well?"
"No."
"You are faded a little. Your face has lost its firmness."
My impulse died a sudden death. I buried it with a swallow.
"Do you think so?"
"You are all alike. Let me tell you something; don"t get sick. If you are, hide it as much as possible. Men do not like sick women."
"I"ll end this fading business as soon as possible. It _is_ late.
Good-night, dad."
I examined my face as soon as he closed the door. There _was_ a change. Not the change from health to disease, but an expression lurking there--a reflection of some unrevealed secret.
The next morning was pa.s.sed with Alice and the children. He was pleased with her prettiness and sprightliness, and his gentle manner and disposition pleased her. She asked him to let me spend another year in Rosville; but he said that I must return to Surrey, and that he never would allow me to leave home again.
"She will marry."
"Not early."
"Never, I believe," I said.
"It will be as well."
"Yes," she replied; "if you leave her a fortune, or teach her some trade, that will give her some importance in the world."
Her wisdom astonished me.
He was sorry, he said, that Morgeson was not at home. When he mentioned him I looked out of the window, and saw Ben Somers coming into the yard. As he entered, Alice gave him a meaning look, which was not lost upon me, and which induced him to observe Ben closely.
"The train is nearly due, Mr. Morgeson; shall I walk to the station with you?"
"Certainly; come, Ca.s.sy."
On the way he touched me, making a sign toward Ben. I shook my head, which appeared satisfactory. The rest of the time was consumed in the discussion of the relationship, which ended in an invitation, as I expected, to Surrey.
"The governor is not worried, is he?" asked Ben, on our way back.
"No more than I am."
"What a pity Morgeson was not at home!"