Mr. Claghorn's Daughter Part 16

CHAPTER XV.

SUR LE PONT D'AVIGNON ON Y DANSE, ON Y DANSE.

It was, perhaps, because she was conscience-stricken that Mrs. Joe essayed to make atonement to Natalie by being especially confiding with her. We know, also, that she saw an opportunity of strengthening those bonds between Stormpoint and the White House, which Mr. Hacket insisted it was advisable to make as close as possible; for it became day by day more evident that Miss Achsah had taken her new inmate into her heart of hearts; other motives there may have been; certain it is that next to her yellow adviser, whom she loathed with a deeper loathing each time that she saw him anew, she opened her heart to Natalie in regard to those cherished projects which concerned Mark.

"I want to see him famous," she said. "It will be harder for him than for others, because of this wretched money."

"He has more talent than most, and, I think, sincerity," replied Natalie, pausing on the last word.

The elder lady looked sharply at the speaker. The two were alone together; occasionally they could hear the strains of Paula's organ from the distant music-room. "You saw much of him after he left the University?" she questioned.

"Yes, he was with us constantly for a time." The widow had a fine sense of hearing, which she strained to the utmost to note what might be told in the tone that remained untold by the words. She was quite aware that Mark had been for weeks a daily visitor, if not an actual inmate, of the household of Beverley Claghorn. She had herself arranged that it should be so; but she had not then feared possibilities, which had engaged her thoughts a good deal since she had heard of the rupture between the Marquise and Natalie. The tone of the girl's voice told her nothing, and the eyes that met her own were serene.

"I wished Mark to remain abroad until Stormpoint was complete. I wished to surprise him, and impress him with the fact that I am in earnest, that this place is but a means to an end."

"It is a beautiful and a fitting home for what he is and aspires to be."

"It will help. What has he said to you about Stormpoint?"

"You forget that I have not seen him since he made its acquaintance."

"Surely he was not so neglectful as not to write!"

"He wrote to my father. I don't recall what he said about Stormpoint."

The eyes bent upon the girl, who looked steadily out of the window at the sea, were keen and questioning. "Pardon me, Natalie, I hope the breach between you and the Marquise is not irreparable," said the lady softly.

Natalie looked up smiling. "Indeed, I hope not. I am not angry with her, though she is with me."

"I can hardly be sorry that you disappointed her--I never fancied her lieutenant--but I was surprised. I had supposed the matter settled with your consent."

"My dear father, it seems, did so arrange it. I quite appreciate her standpoint and know that she has much to forgive. Naturally, she approves of the customs of her country. Unfortunately, I was not trained strictly _ la mode Franaise_."

"The French custom as regards betrothal is repulsive; but I supposed you were French--and----"

"I must have inherited independent views. I might have acquiesced had I not seen too much of Adolphe. You are not to think badly of him--only that he is unendurable."

"That is more d.a.m.ning than faint praise," laughed Mrs. Joe; "but I understand. Well, my dear, since you decline to become a 'female Markis,' as Mr. Weller has it, we must do as well for you as possible in a republic that offers no n.o.bles."

"I am quite content with things as they are."

"That, of course, is eminently proper; but we are all slaves of destiny and there is one always possible to maidens. We shall select a permanent city home as soon as I can consult Mark; meanwhile we shall not spend our winters here; and in the winter Miss Achsah must reward our forbearance by surrendering you to us."

"I shall be glad to be with you and Paula sometimes; but, Mrs. Joe, you know I am only visiting my aunt. I intend to have a home of my own."

"That will come. Perhaps it will be with me for a time, if you can bear with another old woman. Mark and Paula will want their own establishment. Of course, they'll have Stormpoint."

She had sped her bolt. If it had been needless, it was harmless; if it had wounded, so much the more was it needed. But she felt mean--in the proper frame to meet Mr. Hacket, who was announced, to the relief of both.

The distant organ notes must have been pleasing to the ear, for, after Mrs. Joe had gone, Natalie sat long, listening and motionless; they must have been tender, for tears glistened in her eyes. When they ceased she rose and left the room and the house. In the grounds she found Paula, who said, "I came out at this moment, and saw that," pointing to the buggy; "then I knew that you would soon be here."

They strolled to a sheltered nook of the cliffside, and thence looked out upon the silver sea, peaceful under the summer sky.

"One could hardly believe that it could ever be angry," said Paula, "but you shall see it in fury; then it will be awful."

"It is awful now."

"Now!" exclaimed Paula. "Why, it is as serene as the sky above it."

"But think what it hides. Listen to the moan; see the swell of its heavy sighs."

"Natalie, I have discovered something!"

"Like Columbus," laughed Natalie.

"You are like the sea to-day. The surface wavelets laugh in the glint of the sun; but sadness is beneath. The sea hides sorrow; and you are so.

You and Mark----"

And there she stopped. The other knew why. Paula was looking straight at her face, and she knew that her face had suddenly told a story.

"Does the sea remind you of Mark?" she asked in even tones, guarding her secret in her manner of utterance.

"Of both of you," answered Paula, who had quickly turned a somewhat troubled gaze upon the water. "Natalie," she added, rather hurriedly, "there is a balm for every sorrow, a sure one. _That_"--she slightly emphasized the word--"is why I thought of you in connection with Mark.

Ah, if he were only religious!"

"Then he would be perfect, you think." She laughed, and Paula laughed, but the merriment seemed hollow.

"n.o.body can be perfect," said Paula, after the pause which had followed the unmeaning mirth. She spoke in a low tone and timidly, but for that reason all the more engagingly; "but so far as perfection can be attained, it can only be with the aid of religion."

It was one of the words in season, which Natalie had become accustomed to hear from those about her, and which from this exhorter she always liked to hear. There was an atmosphere of calm about Paula and a serenity in her face which fascinated the unbeliever. And her admonitions, if timidly uttered, were sincere. It was as though the young preacher, though longing for a convert, feared to frighten the disciple away.

Natalie bent over and kissed the girl's cheek. "Is he unhappy? Mark, I mean."

"His life is evidence that he is not happy. He wanders aimlessly. Cousin Alice built Stormpoint for him, yet he leaves it."

"His large interests compel his wanderings."

"He has agents who make them unnecessary. Cousin Alice needs him."

"You would be glad to have him home?"

Paula looked up; her sparkling eyes answered the question. There was a pause.

"I hope he will come," said Natalie, after awhile, "and that you will have your wish."

"That he will become religious? I pray for it, so it must come."