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"Oh, yes," said Miss Hetty, sharply, "we have been speaking of him all along, and--"
The door from the hall was opened quickly, and Hesden looking in, said pleasantly,
"I hope you are not suffering, mother?"
"Not more than usual, Hesden," said Mrs. Le Moyne, "but I wish to see you very particularly, my son."
"I am very busy, mother, on a most important matter; but you know I will always make everything give way for you."
So saying, he stepped into the room and stood awaiting his mother's pleasure, after bowing somewhat formally to the younger lady.
"What are these reports I hear about you, Hesden?" asked his mother, with some show of anger.
"I beg your pardon, little mother," said Hesden smiling; "but was it to make this inquiry you called me from my business?"
"Yes, indeed," was the reply; "I should like to know what there could be of more importance to you than such slanderous reports as Cousin Hetty tells me are being circulated about you."
"I have no doubt they are interesting if Cousin Hetty brings them,"
said Hesden; "but you will please excuse me now, as I have matters of more importance to attend to."
He bowed, and would have pa.s.sed out, but the good lady cried out almost with a shriek,
"But Hesden! Hesden! Hetty says that--that--that they say--you--are a--a Radical!"
She started from her pillows, and leaned forward with one white hand uplifted, as she waited his reply.
He turned back instantly, stepped quickly to the bedside, and put his one arm caressingly about her as he said earnestly, "I am afraid, mother, if one speaks of things which have occurred in Horsford during the past few days as a man of honor ought, he must expect to be called bad names."
"But Hesden--you are not--do tell me, my son," said his mother, in a tone of entreaty, "that you are _not_ one of those horrid Radicals!"
"There, there; do not excite yourself, mother. I will explain everything to you this evening," said he, soothingly.
"But you are not a Radical?" she cried, catching his hand.
"I am a man of honor, always," he replied, proudly.
"Then you cannot be a Radical," she said, with a happy smile.
"But he is--he is!" exclaimed the younger lady, starting forward with flushed cheeks and pointing a trembling finger at his face, as if she had detected a guilty culprit. "He is!" she repeated.
"Deny it if you dare, Hesden Le Moyne!"
"Indeed, Miss Hetty," said Hesden, turning upon her with dignified severity. "May I inquire who const.i.tuted you either my judge or my accuser."
"Oh fie! Hesden," said his mother. "Isn't Hetty one of the family?"
"And has every Richards and Le Moyne on the planet a right to challenge my opinions?" asked Hesden.
"Certainly!" said his mother, with much energy, while her pale face flushed, and her upraised hand trembled--"certainly they have, my son, if they think you are about to disgrace those names. But do deny it! Do tell me you are not a Radical!" she pleaded.
"But suppose I were?" he asked, thoughtfully.
"I would disown you! I would disinherit you!" shrieked the excited woman, shrinking away from his arm as if there were contagion in the touch. "Remember, sir," she continued threateningly, "that Mulberry Hill is still mine, and it shall never go to a Radical--never!"
"There, there, mother; do not excite yourself unnecessarily," said Hesden. "It is quite possible that both these matters are beyond either your control or mine."
"Why, what do you mean?"
"I simply mean that circ.u.mstances over which we have no control have formed my opinions, and others over which we have as little control may affect the owners.h.i.+p of this plantation."
"Why--what in the world! Hesden, are you mad? You know that it is mine by the will of my father! Who or what could interfere with my right?"
"I sincerely hope that no one may," answered Hesden; "but I shall be able to tell you more about these matters after dinner, when I promise that you shall know all, without any reservation."
There had been a calm, almost sorrowful, demeanor about Hesden during this conversation, which had held the excited women unconsciously in check. They were so astonished at the coolness of his manner and the matter-of-fact sincerity of his tones that they were quite unable to express the indignation and abhorrence they both felt that his language merited. Now, however, as he moved toward the door, the younger lady was no longer able to restrain herself,
"I knew it was so!" she said. "That miserable n.i.g.g.e.r-teacher wasn't here for nothing! The mean, low hussy! I should think he would have been ashamed to bring her here anyhow--under his mother's very nose!"
Hesden had almost reached the door of the room when these words fell upon his ear. He turned and strode across the room until he stood face to face with his mother once more. There was no lack of excitement about him now. His face was pale as death, his eyes blazed, and his voice trembled.
"Mother," said he, "I have often told you that I would never bring to you a wife whom you did not approve. I hope never to do so; but I wish to say one thing: Miss Ainslie is a pure and lovely woman.
None of us have ever known her superior. She is worthy of any man's devotion. I would not have said this but for what has been spoken here. But now I say, that if I ever hear that anyone having a single drop of our blood in her veins has spoken ill of her--ay, or if her name is linked with mine in any slighting manner, even by the breath of public rumor--I will make her my wife if she will accept my hand, whatever your wishes. And further, if any one speaks slightingly of her, I will resent it as if she were my wife, so help me G.o.d!"
He turned upon his heel, and strode out of the room.
He had not once looked or spoken to the lady whose words had given the offense. The mother and cousin were overwhelmed with astonishment at the intensity of the usually quiet and complaisant Hesden. Miss Hetty soon made excuses for returning to her home, and Mrs. Le Moyne waited in dull wonder for the revelation which the evening was to bring. It seemed to her as if the world had lost its bearings and everything must be afloat, now that Hesden had been so transformed as to speak thus harshly to the mother for whom his devotion had become proverbial all the country around.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE PRICE OF HONOR.
When Hesden came to his mother's room that night, his countenance wore an unusually sad and thoughtful expression. His mother had not yet recovered from the shock of the morning's interview. The more she thought of it, the less she could understand either his language or his manner. That he would once think of allying himself in political thought with those who were trying to degrade and humiliate their people by putting them upon a level with the negro, she did not for a moment believe, despite what he had said. Neither did she imagine, even then, that he had any feeling for Mollie Ainslie other than mere grat.i.tude for the service she had rendered, but supposed that his outburst was owing merely to anger at the slighting language used toward her by Cousin Hetty. Yet she felt a dim premonition of something dreadful about to happen, and was ill at ease during the evening meal. When it was over, the table cleared, and the servant had retired, Hesden sat quiet for a long time, and then said, slowly and tenderly:
"Mother, I am very sorry that all these sad things should come up at this time--so soon after our loss. I know your heart, as well as mine, is sore, and I wish you to be sure that I have not, and cannot have, one unkind thought of you. Do not cry," he added, as he saw the tears pouring down her face, which was turned to him with a look of helpless woe upon it--"do not cry, little mother, for we shall both of us have need of all our strength."
"Oh, Hesden," she moaned, "if you only would not--"
"Please do not interrupt me," he said, checking her with a motion of his hand; "I have a long story to tell, and after that we will speak of what now troubles you. But first, I wish to ask you some questions. Did you ever hear of such a person as Edna Richards?"
"Edna Richards--Edna Richards?" said Mrs. Le Moyne, wiping away her tears and speaking between her sobs. "It seems as if I had, but--I--I can't remember, my son. I am so weak and nervous."
"Calm yourself, little mother; perhaps it will come to your mind if I ask you some other questions. Our grandfather, James Richards, came here from Pennsylvania, did he not?"
"Certainly, from about Lancaster. He always promised to take me to see our relatives there, but he never did. You know, son, I was his youngest child, and he was well past fifty when I was born. So he was an old man when I was grown up, and could not travel very much. He took me to the North twice, but each time, before we got around to our Pennsylvania friends, he was so tired out that he had to come straight home."
"Did you ever know anything about his family there?"