Vashti Part 51

It was a long, dreary drive to the distant cemetery, and she was relieved to some extent when they found themselves at the family vault. Miss Jane had always desired to be buried under the slab that covered her brother, and had directed a s.p.a.ce left for that purpose.

Now the marble was removed, and the coffins of Jane and Enoch Grey rested side by side. The voice of the minister ceased, and only little Stanley's sobs broke that mournful silence which always ensues while spade or trowel does its sad work. Then the sculptured slab was replaced, and brother and sister were left to that blessed repose which is granted only to the faithful when "He giveth His beloved sleep."

"Write, 'Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, Because they rest,' ... because their toil is o'er.

The voice of weeping shall be heard no more In the Eternal City. Neither dying Nor sickness, pain nor sorrow, neither crying, For G.o.d shall wipe away all tears. Rest,--rest."

In the death of his sister, Dr. Grey mourned the loss of the only mother he had ever known, for his earliest recollections were of Miss Jane's tender care and love, and his affection was rather that of a devoted son than brother; consequently, the blow was doubly painful: but he bore it with a silent fort.i.tude, a grave and truly Christian resignation, that left an indelible impression upon the minds of Miss Dexter and Muriel, and taught them the value of a faith that could bring repose and trust in the midst of a trial so severe.

His continued vigils at "Solitude," and the profound grief that could not find vent in tears or words, had printed characters on his pale, wearied face, that should have commanded the sympathy of all who shared his friends.h.i.+p; but the sight of his worn features and the sound of his slow step only embittered the heart of the orphan, who saw in these evidences of fatigue and anxiety new manifestations of affection for the patient who was not yet entirely beyond danger.

Four days after the funeral, Dr. Grey came in to breakfast later than usual, having driven over very early to "Solitude;" and, as he seated himself at the table and received from Muriel's hand a cup of coffee, he leaned forward and kissed her rosy cheek.

"Thank you, my child. You are very kind to wait for me."

"How is that poor Mrs. Gerome? Will she never be well enough to dispense with your services?"

Once, Salome would have answered, "He hopes not;" but now she merely turned her head a little, to catch his reply.

"She is better to-day than I feared I should find her, as some alarming symptoms threatened her yesterday; but now I think I can safely say the danger has entirely pa.s.sed."

Muriel hung over the back of his chair, pressing him to try several dishes that she p.r.o.nounced excellent, but he gently refused all except the coffee; and, when he had pushed aside the empty cup, he drew the face of his ward close to his own, and murmured a few words that deepened the glow on her fair cheeks, while she hastily left the room to read a letter.

For some moments he sat with his head resting on his hand, thinking of the dear old face that usually watched him from the corner of the fire-place, and of the kind words that were showered on him while he breakfasted; but to-day the faded lips were frozen forever, and the dim eyes would never again brighten at his approach.

He sighed, brushed back the hair that cl.u.s.tered in glossy brown rings on his forehead, and rose.

"Salome, if you are not particularly engaged this morning, I should be glad to see you in the library."

"At what hour?"

"Immediately, if you are at leisure."

The orphan put aside the fold of c.r.a.pe which she was converting into a collar, and inclined her head slightly.

Since that brief and painful interview held beside Miss Jane's coffin, not a syllable had pa.s.sed between them, and the girl shrank with a vague, s.h.i.+vering dread from the impending _tete-a-tete_.

Silently she followed the master of the house into the library, where Dr. Grey drew two chairs to the table, and, when she had seated herself in one, he took possession of the other.

Opening a drawer, he selected several papers from a ma.s.s of what appeared to be legal doc.u.ments, and spread them before her.

"I wish to acquaint you with the contents of my sister's will, which I examined last night. Will you read it, or shall I briefly state her wishes?"

"Tell me what you wish me to know."

She swept the papers into a pile, and pushed them away.

"Have you ever read a will?"

"No, sir."

She leaned her elbows on the table, and rested her face in her hands.

"All these pages amount simply to this,--dear Jane made her will immediately after my return from Europe, and its provisions are: that this place, with house, land, furniture, and stock, shall be given to and settled upon you; and moreover that, for the ensuing five years, you shall receive every January the sum of one thousand dollars. Until the expiration of that period, she desired that I should act as your guardian. By reference to the date and signature of these papers, you will find that this will was made as soon as she was able to sit up, after her illness produced by pneumonia; but appended to the original is a codicil stating that the validity of the distribution of her estate, contained in the former instrument, is contingent upon your conduct. Feeling most earnestly opposed to your contemplated scheme of going upon the stage as a _prima donna_, she solemnly declares, that, if you persist in carrying your decision into execution, the foregoing provisions shall be cancelled, and the house, land, and furniture shall be given to Jessie and Stanley; while only one thousand dollars is set apart as your portion. This codicil was signed one month ago."

Dr. Grey glanced over the sheets of paper, and refolded them, allowing his companion time for reflection and comment, but she remained silent, and he added,--

"However your views may differ from those entertained by my sister, I hope you will not permit yourself to doubt that a sincere desire to promote your life-long happiness prompted the course she has pursued."

Five minutes elapsed, and the orphan sat mute and still.

"Salome, are you disappointed? My dear friend, deal frankly with me."

She lifted her pale, quiet face, and, for the first time in many weeks, he saw unshed tears s.h.i.+ning in her eyes, and glittering on her lashes.

"I should be glad to know whether Miss Jane consulted you, in the preparation of her will?"

"She conferred with me concerning the will, and I cordially approved it; but of the codicil I knew nothing, until her lawyer--Mr.

Lindsay--called my attention to it yesterday afternoon."

"You are very generous, Dr. Grey, and no one but you would willingly divide your sister's estate with paupers, who have so long imposed upon her bounty. I had no expectation that Miss Jane would so munificently remember me, and I have not deserved the kindness which she has lavished on me, for Jessie and Stanley I gratefully accept her n.o.ble gift, and it will place them far beyond the possibility of want; while the only regret of which I am conscious, is, that I feel compelled to pursue a career, which my best, my only friend disapproved. In the name of poor little Jessie and Stanley, I thank you, sir, for consenting to such a generous bequest of property that is justly yours. You, who--"

"Pray do not mention the matter, for independent of the large legacy left me by my sister, my own fortune is so ample that I deserve no thanks for willingly sharing that which I do not need. My little sister, you must not rashly decide a question which involves your future welfare, and I can not and will not hear your views at present.

Take one week for calm deliberation, weigh the matter prayerfully and thoughtfully, and at the expiration of that time, meet me here, and I will accept your decision."

She shook her head, and a dreary smile pa.s.sed swiftly over her pa.s.sionless face.

"Twenty years of reflection would not alter, or in any degree bend my determination, which is as firmly fixed as the base of the Blue-Ridge; and--"

"Pardon me, Salome, but, until the week has elapsed, I do not wish or intend to receive your verdict. Before this day week, recollect all the reasons which dear Janet urged against your scheme; recall the pain she suffered from the bare contemplation of such a possibility, and her tender pleadings and wise counsel. Ah, Salome, you are young and impulsive, but I trust you will not close your ears against your brother's earnest protest and appeal. If I were not sincerely attached to you, I should not so persistently oppose your favorite plan, which is fraught with perils and annoyances that you can not now realize.

Hus.h.!.+ I will not listen to you to-day."

He rose, and laying his hands softly on her head, added, in a solemn but tremulously tender tone,--

"And may G.o.d in His infinite wisdom and mercy overrule all things for your temporal and eternal welfare, and so guide your decision, that peace and usefulness will be your portion, now and forever."

CHAPTER XXIV.

"Yes, Dr. Grey, I am better than I ever expected or desired to be in this world."

"Mrs. Gerome, this is scarcely the recompense that my anxious vigilance and ceaseless exertions merit at your hands."

The invalid leaned far back in her cus.h.i.+oned easy-chair, and, as the physician rested his arm on the mantelpiece and looked down at her, he thought of the lines that had more than once recurred to his mind, since the commencement of their acquaintance,--

"What finely carven features! Yes, but carved From some clear stuff, not like a woman's flesh, And colored like half-faded, white-rose leaves.

'Tis all too thin, and wan, and wanting blood, To take my taste. No fulness, and no flus.h.!.+

A watery half-moon in a wintry sky Looks less uncomfortably cold. And ... well, I never in the eyes of a sane woman Saw such a strange, unsatisfied regard."