Vashti Part 75

The forests were gaudy in their painted shrouds of scarlet and yellow leaves, and long, feathery flakes of purple bloom nodded over crimson berries, emerald mosses, and golden-hearted asters.

Only a few weeks previous, Dr. Grey had driven along that road, and, while the echo of harvest hymns rang on the hay-scented air, had asked himself how men and women could become so completely absorbed in temporal things, ignoring the solemn and indisputable fact of the brevity of human life and the restricted dominion of man,--

"Whose part in all the pomp that fills The circuit of the summer hills Is, that his grave is green."

But to-day all sober-hued reflections were exorcised by the rapturous _Jubilate_ that hope was singing through the sunlit chambers of his happy heart; and when he entered the grounds of "Solitude" they seemed bathed in that soft glamour, that witching "light that never was on sea or land."

As he sprang from his buggy and opened the little gate leading into the _parterre_, Robert came slowly forward, bearing a basket filled with a portion of the crimson apples that flushed the orchard, just beyond the low hedge.

"You could not have chosen a better time to come, Dr. Grey; and if I were allowed to have my way you would have been here last night. Were you sent for at last, or was it a lucky chance that brought you?"

"Merely an accident, as I received no summons. Robert, how is your mistress?"

"G.o.d only knows, sir; I am sure I never can tell how she really is.

She has not seemed well since she took that journey to the North, and for two weeks past she appears to have been slipping down by inches into her grave. She neither eats nor sleeps, and for the last three nights has not lain down,--so old Ruth, the housekeeper, tells me.

Yesterday I begged my mistress to let me go for you, but she smiled that awful freezing smile that strikes to the very marrow of my bones, worse than December sleet,--and raised her finger so: and said, 'At your peril, Robert. Mind your orchard, man, and I will take care of myself. I want neither doctors nor nurses, and only desire that you, and Ruth, and Anna, will attend to your respective duties and let me be quiet. All will soon be well with me.' I killed a partridge, had it nicely broiled, and carried it to her; and she thanked me, and made a pretence of eating the wing, just to please me; but when the waiter was taken away to the kitchen, I found all the bird on the plate. This morning, just before daylight, I heard her playing a wild, mournful thing on the piano, that sounded like a dirge or a wail; and Ruth says when she went into the parlor to open the blinds, she found her praying, and thinks she was on her knees for an hour. Please G.o.d!

sometimes I wish she was in heaven with my mother, for she will never see any peace in this life."

"What seems to be the disease?"

"Heart-ache."

"You should have come and told me this long ago."

"And pray to what purpose, Dr. Grey? She vowed she would allow no human being to cross her threshold, except the servants, and I would sooner undertake to curl a steel, or make ringlets out of a pair of tongs, than bend her will when once she takes a stand. Humph! My mistress is no willow wand, and is about as easily moved as the church-steeple, or the stone-tower of the lighthouse."

"Has she recently received letters that contained tidings which excited or distressed her?"

"A letter came last week, but I know nothing of its contents. You need not go into the house if you wish to find her, for about an hour and a half ago I saw her come out into the grounds, and she never goes in till the lamps are lighted."

An anxious look clouded for an instant Dr. Grey's countenance, but undaunted hope sang on of the hours of hallowed communion that the future held, while in her invalid condition he a.s.sumed the care and guardians.h.i.+p of his beloved; and, turning into the lawn, he eagerly searched the winding walks for some trace of her, some flutter of her garments, some faint, subtle odor of orange-flowers or tube-roses.

Here and there cl.u.s.ters of purple, pink, and orange crysanthemums flecked the lawn with color; and a flower-stand, covered with china jars that held geraniums, seemed almost a pyramid of flame, from the profusion of scarlet blooms.

The sun had gone down behind a waving line of low hills, where,--

"Thinned to amber, rimmed with silver, Clouds in the distance dwell, Clouds that are cool, for all their color, Pure as a rose-lipped sh.e.l.l.

Fleets of wool in the upper heavens Gossamer wings unfurl; Sailing so high they seem but sleeping Over yon bar of pearl."

Still as crystal was the sapphire sea that mirrored that quiet, sapphire sky, and not a murmur, not a ripple, stirred the evening air or the yellow sands that stretched for miles along the winding coast.

When Dr. Grey had partially crossed the lawn, he glanced towards the marble temple that gleamed against the dark background of deodars, and saw a woman sitting on the steps of the tomb. Softly he approached and entered the mausoleum by an arch on the opposite side, but, notwithstanding his cautious tread, he startled a white pigeon that had perched on the altar, where fresh violets, heliotrope, and snowy sprigs of nutmeg-geranium were leaning over the scalloped edge of the Venetian gla.s.ses, and distilling perfume in their delicate chalices.

Mrs. Carlyle had brought her floral tribute to the sepulchral urn, and, having carefully arranged her daily Arkja, had seated herself on the steps to rest.

From the two sentinel poplars that guarded the front, golden leaves were sifting down on the marble floor, and three or four had drifted upon the lap of the quiet figure, while one, bright and rich as autumn gilding could make it, rested like a crown on the silver waves that covered her head.

Down the s.h.i.+ning steps trailed the folds of the white merino robe, and around her shoulders was wrapped the blue c.r.a.pe shawl, while a cl.u.s.ter of violets seemed to have slipped from her fingers, and strewed themselves at random on her dress.

Softly Dr. Grey drew near, and his voice was tremulously tender, as he said,--

"Mrs. Carlyle, no barrier divides us now."

She did not speak, or turn her queenly head, and he laid his hand caressingly on the glistening gray hair.

"My darling, my first and only love--my brave, beautiful 'Agla,' may I not tell you, at last, what conscience once forbade my uttering?"

As motionless and silent as the sculptured poppies above her, she took no notice of his pa.s.sionate pleading, and he sprang down one step directly in front of her.

The white face was turned to the sea, and the large, wide, wonderfully lovely yet mournful gray eyes were gazing fixedly across the waste of water, at a filmy cloud as fine as lace, that like a silver netting caught the full October moon which was lifting itself in the pearly east.

The long black lashes did not droop, nor the steady eyes waver, and with a horrible foreboding Dr. Grey seized her hands. They were rigid and icy. He stooped, caught her to his bosom, and pressed his lips to hers, but they were colder than the marble column against which she leaned; for, one hour before, Vashti Carlyle had fronted her G.o.d.

Alone in the autumn evening, sitting there with the golden poplar leaves drifting over her, the desolate woman had held her last communion with the watching ocean that hushed its murmuring, to see her die; and, laying down the galling burden of her sunless, dreary life, she had joyfully and serenely "put on immortality" in that everlasting rest, where "there was no more sea, no more death, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are pa.s.sed away."

Ah! beautiful and holy was--

"That peaceful face wherein all past distress Had melted into perfect loveliness."

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

Since that October day when Ulpian Grey sat on the steps of the tomb, holding in his arms the beautiful white form, whom in life G.o.d had denied him the privilege of touching, six months had drifted slowly; yet time had not softened the blow, that, while almost crus.h.i.+ng his tender, unselfish heart, had no power to shake the faith which was so securely anch.o.r.ed in Christ.

Among the papers found in Mrs. Carlyle's desk was one containing the request that Dr. Grey would superintend the erection of a handsome monument over the remains of her husband, whenever and wherever he chanced to die; and her will provided that her fortune should be appropriated as the nucleus of a relief fund for indigent painters.

Her own pictures, to which she had carefully affixed in delicate violet ciphers the name "Agla," she directed placed on exhibition in a New York gallery, and ultimately sold for the benefit of the orphans of artists. To Robert she bequeathed a sum sufficient to maintain him in ease and comfort; and to Dr. Grey her escritoire, piano, books, and the sapphire ring she had always worn.

The latter was found in the silver casket, and had been folded in a sheet of paper containing these words,--

"According to the teachings of the Buddhists, 'the sapphire produces equanimity and peace of mind, as well as affording protection against envy and treachery. It produces also prayer and reconciliation with the G.o.dhead, and brings more peace than any other gem of necromancy; _but he who would wear it must lead a pure and holy life_.' Finding my sapphire asp mockingly inefficacious in its traditional talismanic powers, I conclude that my melancholy career has been a violation of the stipulated condition, and therefore bequeath it to the only human being whom I deem worthy to wear it with any hope of success."

While awaiting orders from the naval department, Dr. Grey purchased "Solitude," whither he removed, with Muriel and Miss Dexter, and temporarily established himself, until the arrival of Mr. Granville.

Immediately after her return from Europe, Salome invested a portion of Mr. Minge's legacy in the site of the old mill that had fallen to ruin. Here she built a small but tasteful cottage _orne_ on the spot where her father had died, and here, with Jessie and Stanley, she proposed to spend her winters; while Mark and Joel were placed at the "Gra.s.smere Farm," a mile distant, and entrusted with its management until the younger children should attain their majority.

Too proud to accept the home which Dr. Grey had tendered her, Salome was earnestly endeavoring to imitate the n.o.ble example of self-abnegation that lifted him so far above all others whom she had ever known; and the most precious hope of her life was to reach that exalted excellence which alone could compel his admiration and respect.

From the day of Mrs. Carlyle's death, the orphan had been a comparatively happy woman, for jealousy could not invade or desecrate the grave and its harmless sleeper; and Salome fervently thanked G.o.d, that, since she was denied the blessing of Dr. Grey's love, at least she had been spared the torture of seeing him the fond husband of another.

Time had deepened, but refined, purified, and consecrated her unconquerable affection for the only man who had ever commanded her reverence, and whose quiet influence had so happily remoulded her wayward, fiery nature.

There were seasons when the old element of innate perversity re-a.s.serted itself, but the steady reproving gaze of his clear, true eyes, or the warning touch of his hand on her head, had sufficed to still the rising storm.

Conscientiously the pa.s.sionate, exacting woman was striving to bring her heart and life into subjection to the law,--into conformity with the precepts of Christ; and though she was impulsive, proud Salome still,--the glaring blemishes in her character were gradually disappearing.