The Maid of Maiden Lane

by Amelia E. Barr

  CHAPTER II

  THIS IS THE WAY OF LOVE

  Cornelia lingered in the garden, because she had suddenly, and as yetunconsciously, entered into that tender mystery, so common and sosovereign, which we call Love. In Hyde's presence she had been suffusedwith a bewildering, profound emotion, which had fallen on her as thegentle showers fall, to make the flowers of spring. A shy happiness, atrembling delightful feeling never known before, filled her heart. Thishandsome youth, whom she had only seen twice, and in the most formalmanner, affected her as no other mortal had ever done. She was a littleafraid; something, she knew not what, of mystery and danger anddelight, was between them; and she did not feel that she could speak ofit. It seemed, indeed, as if she would need a special language to do so.

  "I have met him but twice," she thought; "and it is as if I had a new,strange, exquisite life. Ought I tell my mother? But how can I? I haveno words to explain--I do not understand--I thought it would break myheart to leave the good Sisters and my studies, and the days so calmand holy; and now--I do not even wish to go back. Sister Langaard toldme it would be so if I let the world come into my soul--Alas! if Ishould be growing wicked!"

  The thought made her start; she hastened her steps towards the largeentrance door, and as she approached it a negro in a fine livery ofblue and white threw the door wide open for her. Answering his bow witha kind word, she turned quickly out of the hall, into a parlour full ofsunshine. A lady sat there hemstitching a damask napkin; a lady ofdainty plainness, with a face full of graven experiences and mellowedcharacter. Purity was the first, and the last, impression she gave. Andwhen her eyes were dropped this idea was emphasized by their beautifullids; for nowhere is the flesh so divine as in the eyelids. And AvaMoran's eyelids were full of holy secrets; they gave the impression ofa spiritual background which was not seen, but which could be felt. AsCornelia entered she looked up with a smile, and said, as she slightlyraised her work, "it is the last of the dozen, Cornelia."

  "You make me ashamed of my idleness, mother. Have I been a long timeaway?"

  "Longer than was unnecessary, I think."

  "I went to Embree's for the linen thread, and he had just opened someEnglish gauzes and lute-strings. Mrs. Willets was choosing a piece fora new gown, for she is to dine with the President next week, and shewas so polite as to ask my opinion about the goods. Afterwards, Iwalked to Wall Street with her; and coming back I met, on Broadway,Lieutenant Hyde--and he gave me these flowers--they came from Prince'snursery gardens--and, then, he walked home with me. Was it wrong? Imean was it polite--I mean the proper thing to permit? I knew not howto prevent it."

  "How often have you met Lieutenant Hyde?"

  "I met him for the first time last night. He was at the Sylvesters',and I danced three times with him."

  "That was too often."

  "He talked with father, and father did not oppose my dancing."

  "Your father thinks of nothing, now, but the Capital question. I daresay, after he had asked Lieutenant Hyde how he felt on that subject henever thought of the young man again. And pray what did Lieutenant Hydesay to you this afternoon?"

  "He gave me the flowers, and he told me about a beautiful opera, ofwhich I have never before heard. It is called Figaro. He says, inEurope, nothing is played, or sung, or whistled, but--Figaro; thatnobody goes to any opera but--Figaro; and that I do not know the mostcharming music in the world if I do not know--Figaro. He askedpermission to bring me some of the airs to-night, and I said somecivilities. I think they meant 'Yes.' Did I do wrong, mother?"

  "I will say 'no,' my dear; as you have given the invitation. But toprevent an appearance of too exclusive intimacy, write to Arenta, andask her and Rem to take tea with us. Balthazar will carry the note atonce."

  "Mother, Arenta has bought a blue lute string. Shall I not also have anew gown? The gauzes are very sweet and genteel, and I think Mrs. Jaywill not forget to ask me to her dance next week. Mr. Jefferson is sureto be there, and I wish to walk a minuet with him."

  "Your father does not approve of Mr. Jefferson. He has not spoken tohim since his return from France. He goes too far--IN HIS WORDS."

  "But all the ladies of distinction are proud to be seen in his company;and pray what is there against him?"

  "Only his politics, Cornelia. I think New York has gone mad on thatsubject. Madame Barens will not speak to her son, because he is aFederalist; and Madame Lefferts will not speak to HER son, because heis NOT a Federalist. Mr. Jefferson, also, is thought to favourPhiladelphia for the capital; and your father is as hot on this subjectas he was on the Constitution. My dear, you will find that society istorn in two by politics."

  "But women have nothing to do with politics."

  "They have everything to do with politics. They always have had. Youare not now in a Moravian school, Cornelia; and Bethlehem is not NewYork. The two places look at life from different standpoints."

  "Then, as I am to live in New York, why was I sent to Bethlehem?"

  "You were sent to Bethlehem to learn how to live in New York,--or inany other place. Where have you seen Mr. Jefferson?"

  "I saw him this afternoon, in Cedar Street. He wore his red coat andbreeches; and it was then I formed the audacious intention of dancingwith him. I told Mrs. Willets of it; and she said, 'Mr. Jeffersoncarried the Declaration on his shoulders, and would not dare to bow;'and then with such a queer little laugh she asked me 'if his redbreeches did not make me think of the guillotine?' I do not think Mrs.Willets likes Mr. Jefferson very much; but, all the same, I wish todance once with him. I think it will be something to talk about when Iam an old woman."

  "My dear one, that is so far off. Go now, and write to Arenta. YoungMr. Hyde and Figaro will doubtless bring her here."

  "I hope so; for Arenta has an agreeableness that fits every occasion."She had been folding up, with deliberate neatness, the strings of herbonnet, as she talked, and she rose with these words and went out ofthe parlour; but she went slowly, with a kind of hesitation, as ifsomething had been left unsaid.

  About six o'clock Arenta Van Ariens made a personal response to herfriend's message. She was all excitement and expectation. "What adelightful surprise!" she cried. "To-day has been a day to be praised.It has ticked itself away to wonders and astonishments. Who do youthink called on me this afternoon?"

  "Tell me plainly, Arenta. I never could guess for an answer."

  "No less a person than Madame Kippon. Gertrude Kippon is going to bemarried! She is going to marry a French count! And madame is besideherself with the great alliance."

  "I heard my father say that Madame Kippon had 'the French disease' in adangerous form."

  "Indeed, that is certain. She has put the Sabbath day out of hercalendar; and her daughter's marriage is to be a legal one only. Iwonder what good Dr. Kunz will say to that! As for me, I lost allpatience with madame's rigmarole of philosophies--for I am not inclinedto philosophy--and indeed I had some difficulty to keep my temper; youknow that it is occasionally quite unmanageable."

  Cornelia smiled understandingly, and answered with a smile, "I hope,however, that you did not put her to death, Arenta."

  "I have, at least, buried her, as far as I am concerned. And my fathersays I am not to go to the marriage; that I am not even to drink a cupof tea with her again. If my father had been at home--or even Rem--shewould not have left our house with all her colours flying; but I amgood-natured, I have no tongue worth speaking of."

  "Come, come, Arenta! I shall be indeed astonished if you did not sayone or two provoking words."

  "I said only three, Cornelia. When madame finally declared--'she reallymust go home,' I did answer, as sweetly as possible, 'Thank you,madame!' That was something I could say with becoming politeness."

  Cornelia was tying the scarlet ribbon which held back her flowing hair,but she turned and looked at Arenta, and asked, "Did madame boast anyafterwards?"

  "No; she went away very modestly, and I was not sorry to see the angrysurprise on her face. Gertrud
e Kippon a countess! Only imagine it!Well, then, I have no doubt the Frenchman will make ofGertrude--whatever can be made of her."

  "Our drawing-rooms, and even our streets, are full of titles," saidCornelia; "I think it is a distinction to be plain master and mistress."

  "That is the truth; even this handsome dandy, Joris Hyde, is alieutenant."

  "He was in the field two years. He told me so this afternoon. I daresay, he has earned his title, even if he is a lieutenant."

  "Don't be so highty-tighty, Cornelia. I have no objections to militarytitles. They mean something; for they at least imply, that a man iswilling to fight if his country will find him a quarrel to fight in. Infact, I rather lean to official titles of every kind."

  "I have not thought of them at all."

  "But I have. They affect me like the feathers in a cock's tail; ofcourse the bird would be as good without them, but fancy him!" andArenta laughed mirthfully at her supposition. "As for women," shecontinued, "lady, or countess, or Marquise, what an air it gives! Itfinishes a woman like a lace ruff round her neck. Every woman ought tohave a title--I mean every woman of respectability. I have a fancy tobe a marquise, and Aunt Jacobus says I look Frenchy enough. I haveheard that there is a title in the Hyde family. I must ask AuntJacobus. She knows everything about everybody. Lieutenant Hyde! I dowonder what he is coming for!"

  The words dropped slowly, one by one, from her lips; and with a kind offateful import; but neither of the girls divined the significance ofthe inquiry. Both were too intent on those last little touches to thetoilet, which make its effectiveness, to take into considerationreflections without form; and probably, at that time, without personalintention.

  Then Arenta, having arranged her ringlets, tied her sash, and hersandals, began to talk of her own affairs; for she was a young lady whofound it impossible to be sufficient for herself. There had beentrouble with the slaves in the Van Ariens' household, and she toldCornelia every particular. Also, she had VERY NEAR had an offer ofmarriage from George Van Berckel; and she went into explanations abouther diplomacies in avoiding it.

  "Poor George!" she sighed, and then, looking up, was a trifle dismayedat the expression upon Cornelia's face. For Cornelia was as reticent,as Arenta was garrulous; and the girls were incomprehensible to eachother in their deepest natures, though, superficially, they were muchon the same plane, and really thought themselves to be distinctlysympathetic friends.

  "Why do you look so strangely at me, Cornelia?" asked Arenta. "Am I notproperly dressed?"

  "You are perfectly dressed, Arenta. Women as fair as you are, knowinstinctively how to dress." And then Arenta stood up before the mirrorand put her hand upon Cornelia's shoulder, and they both looked at thereflection in it.

  A very pretty reflection it was!--a slender girl with a round, fairface, and a long, white throat, and sloping shoulders. Her pale brownhair fell in ripples and curls around her until they touched a robe ofheavenly blue, and half hid a singular necklace of largepearls:--pearls taken from some Spanish ship and strung in oldZierikzee, and worn for centuries by the maids and dames of the houseof Van Ariens.

  "It is the necklace!" said Cornelia after a pause, "It is the pearlnecklace, which gives you such an air of mystery and romance, andchanges you from an everyday maiden into an old-time princess."

  "No doubt, it is the necklace," answered Arenta. "It is my AuntAngelica's, but she permits me to wear it. When she was young, shecalled every pearl after one of her lovers; and she had a lover forevery pearl. She was near to forty years old when she married; and shehad many lovers, even then."

  "It would have been better if she had married before she was near toforty years old--that is, if she had taken a good husband."

  "Perhaps that; but good husbands come not on every day in the week. Ihave three beads named already--one for George Van Berckel--one forFred De Lancey--and one for Willie Nichols. What do you think of that?"

  "I think, if you copy your Aunt Angelica, you will not marry any ofyour lovers till you are forty years old. Come, let us go downstairs."

  She spoke a little peremptorily--indeed, she was in the habit, quiteunconsciously of using this tone with her companion, consequently itwas not noticed by her. And it was further remarkable, that the girlsdid not walk down the broad stairs together, but Cornelia went first,and Arenta followed her. There was no intention or consideration inthis procedure; it was the natural expression of underlying qualities,as yet not realized.

  Cornelia's self-contained, independent nature was further revealed bythe erect dignity of her carriage down the centre of the stairway, onehand slightly lifting her silk robe, the other laid against thedaffodils at her breast. Her face was happy and serene, her stepslight, and without hesitation or hurry. Arenta was a little behind herfriend. She stepped idly and irresolutely, with one hand slipping alongthe baluster, and the other restlessly busy with her curls, herribbons, the lace that partially hid her bosom, and the pearls thatmade a moonlight radiance on her snowy throat. At the foot of thestaircase Cornelia had to wait for her, and they went into the parlourtogether.

  Doctor Moran, Rem Van Ariens, and Lieutenant Hyde were present. Thegirls had a momentary glance at the latter ere he assumed the manner hethought suitable for youth and beauty. He was talking seriously to theDoctor and playing with an ivory paper knife as he did so, but whateverremark he was making he cut it in two, and stood up, pleased andexpectant, to receive Beauty so fresh and so conspicuous.

  He was handsomely dressed in a dark-blue velvet coat, silver-laced, along white satin vest and black satin breeches. His hair was thrownbackwards and tied with the customary black ribbon, and his linen andlaces were of the finest quality. He met Cornelia as he might have meta princess; and he flashed into Arenta's eyes a glance of admirationwhich turned her senses upside down, and made her feel, for a moment ortwo, as if she could hardly breathe.

  Upon Arenta's brother he had not produced a pleasant impression.Without intention, he had treated young Van Ariens with that negativepoliteness which dashes a sensitive man and makes him resentfullyconscious that he has been rendered incapable of doing himself justice.And Rem could neither define the sense of humiliation he felt, nor yetruffle the courteous urbanity of Hyde; though he tried in various waysto introduce some conversation which would afford him the pleasure ofcontradiction. Equally he failed to consider that his barely veiledantagonism compelled from the Doctor, and even from Cornelia andArenta, attentions he might not otherwise have received. The Doctor wasindeed much annoyed that Rem did not better respect the position ofguest; while Mrs. Moran was keenly sensitive to the false note in theevening's harmony, and anxious to atone for it by many little extracourtesies. So Hyde easily became the hero of the hour; he waspermitted to teach the girls the charming old-world step of the Pas deQuatre, and afterwards to sing with them merry airs from Figaro, andsentimental airs from Lodoiska, and to make Rem's heart burn with angerat the expression he threw into the famous ballad "My Heart and Lute"which the trio sang twice over with great feeling.

  Fortunately, some of Doctor Moran's neighbours called early in theevening. Then whist parties were formed; and while the tables werebeing arranged Cornelia found an opportunity to reason with Rem. "Inever could have believed you would behave so unlike yourself," shesaid; and Rem answered bluntly--"That Englishman has insulted me eversince he came into the room."

  "He is not an Englishman," said Cornelia.

  "His father is an Englishman, and the man himself was born in England.The way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me, is insulting."

  "I have seen nothing but courtesy to you, Rem."

  "You have not the key to his impertinences. To-morrow, I will tell yousomething about Lieutenant Hyde."

  "I shall not permit you to talk evil of him. I have no wish to hear illreports about my acquaintances, Their behaviour is their own affair; atany rate, it is not mine. Be good-tempered, Rem; you are to be mypartner, and we must win in every game."

  But though Cornelia was a
ll sweetness and graciousness; though Remplayed well, and Lieutenant Hyde played badly; though Rem had thesatisfaction of watching Hyde depart in his chair, while he stood witha confident friendship by Cornelia's side, he was not satisfied. Therewas an air of weariness and constraint in the room, and the little stirof departing visitors did not hide it. Doctor Moran had been at anunusual social tension; he was tired, and not pleased at Rem forkeeping him on the watch. Cornelia was silent. Rem then approached hissister and said, "it is time to go home." Arenta looked at her friend;she expected to be asked to remain, and she was offended when Corneliadid not give her the invitation.

  On the contrary, Cornelia went with her for her cloak and bonnet, andsaid not a word as they trod the long stairway but "Oh dear! How warmthe evening is!"

  "I expected you would ask me to stay with you, Cornelia." Arenta wastying her bonnet strings as she made this remark, and her fingerstrembled, and her voice was full of hurt feeling.

  "Rem behaved so badly, Arenta."

  "I think that is not so. Did I also behave badly?"

  "You were charming every moment of the evening; but Rem was on thepoint of quarrelling with Lieutenant Hyde. You must have seen it. In myfather's house, this was not proper."

  "I never saw Rem behave badly in my life. Suppose he does quarrel withthat dandy Englishman, Rem would not get the worst of it. I have nofear for my brother Rem! No, indeed!"

  "Bulk does not stand for much in a sword game."

  "Do you mean they might fight a duel?"

  "I think it is best for you to go home with Rem. Otherwise, he might,in his present temper, find himself near Becker's; and if a man isquarrelsome he may always get principals and seconds there. You havetold me this yourself. In the morning Rem will, I hope, be reasonable."

  "I thought you and I would talk things over to-night. I like to talkover a new pleasure."

  "Dear Arenta, we shall have so much more time, to-morrow. Cometo-morrow."

  But Arenta was not pleased. She left her friend with an air ofrepressed injury, and afterwards made little remarks about Cornelia toher brother, which exactly fitted his sense of wounded pride. Indeed,they stood a few minutes in the Van Ariens' parlour to exchange theiropinions still further--

  "I think Cornelia was jealous of me, Rem. That, in plain Dutch, is whatit all means. Does she imagine that I desire the attentions of a manwho is neither an American nor a Dutchman? I do not. I speak the truthalways, for I love the truth."

  "Cornelia does desire them; I think that--and it makes me wretched."

  "Oh, indeed, it is plain to see that she has fallen in love with thatblack-eyed man of many songs and dances. Well, then, we must admit thathe danced to perfection. One may dislike the creature, and yet tell thetruth."

  "Do you truly believe that Cornelia is in love with him?"

  "Rem, there are things a woman observes. Cornelia is changed to-night.She did not wish me to stay and talk about this man Hyde--she preferredthinking about him--such reveries are suspicious. I have felt thesymptom. But, however, I may be wrong. Perhaps Cornelia was angry atHyde, and anxious about you--Do you think that?"

  Rem would not admit any such explanation; and, indeed, Arenta only madesuch suppositions to render more poignant those entirely contrary.

  "Ever since she was a little girl, twelve, eleven years old, I haveloved her," said Rem; "and she knows it."

  "She knows it; that is so. When I was at Bethlehem, I read her all yourletters; and many a time you spoke in them of her as your 'littlewife.' To be sure, it was a joke; but she understood that you, atleast, put your heart in it. Girls do not need to have such thingsexplained. Come, come, we must go to our rooms; for that is our fatherI hear moving about. In a few minutes he will be angry, and then--"

  She did not finish the sentence; there was no necessity; Rem knew whatunpleasantness the threat implied, and he slipped off his shoes andstole quietly upstairs. Arenta was not disinclined to a few words ifher father wished them; so she did not hurry, though the great Flemishclock on the stair-landing chimed eleven as she entered her room. Itwas an extraordinarily late hour, but she only smiled, as she struckher pretty fore-fingers together in time with it. She was not disposedto curtail the day; it was her method, always, to take the full flavourof every event that was not disagreeable.

  "And, after all," she mused, "the evening was a possibility. It was adoor on the latch--I may push it open and go in--who can tell? I sawhow amazed he was at my beauty when I first entered the parlour--and heis but a man--and a young man who likes his own way--so much isevident." She was meanwhile unclasping her pearl necklace, and at thispoint she held it in her hands taking the fourth bead between herfingers, and smiled speculatively.

  Then she heard her brother moving about the floor of the room aboveher, and a shadow darkened her face. She had strong family affections,and she was angry that Rem should be troubled by any man or woman,living:

  "I have always thought Cornelia a very saint," she muttered; "but Loveis the great revealer. I wonder if she is in love--to tell the truth,she was past finding out. I cannot say that I saw the least sign ofit--and between me and myself, Rem was unreasonable; however, I am notpleased that Rem felt himself to be badly used."

  It was to this touch of resentment in her drifting thoughts that sheperformed her last duties. She did not hurry them. "Very soon therewill be the noise of chairmen and carriages to disturb me," shethought; "and I may as well think a little, and put my things away."

  So she folded each dainty blue morocco slipper in its separate piece offine paper, and straightened out her ribbons, and wrapped her pale bluerobe in its holland covering, and put every comb and pin in its properplace, all the time treading as softly as a mouse. And by and by thestreet was dark and still, and her room in the most perfect order.These things gave her the comfort of a good conscience; and she saidher prayers, and fell calmly asleep, to the flattering thought, "Iwould not much wonder if, at this moment, Lieutenant Hyde is thinkingabout me."

  In reality, Lieutenant Hyde was at that moment in the Belvedere Club,singing the Marseillaise, and listening to a very inflammatory speechfrom the French Minister. But a couple of hours later, Arenta's"wonder" would have touched the truth. He was then alone, and very illsatisfied; for, after some restless reflections, he said impatiently--

  "I have again made a fool of myself. I have now all kinds of unpleasantfeelings; and when I left that good Doctor's house I was wellsatisfied. His daughter is an angel. I praise myself for finding thatout. She made me believe in all goodness; yes, even in patriotism! I,that have seen it sold a dozen times! Oh, how divinely shy and proudshe is! I could not get her one step beyond the first civilities; evenmy eyes failed me to-night--her calm glances killed their fire--and shebarely touched my hand, though I offered it with a respectful ardour,she must have understood:"--then he looked admiringly at the long,white hand and thoroughbred wrist which lay idly on the velvet cushionof his armchair; an exquisite ruffle of lace just touched it, and hiseyes wandered from the ruffle to the velvet and silver embroidery ofhis coat; and the delicate laced lawn of his cravat.

  "I have the reputation of beauty," he continued; "and I am perfectlydressed, and yet--yet--this little Beauty seemed unconscious of myadvantages. But I cannot accept failure in this case. The girl isunparagoned. I am in love with her; sincerely in love. She fills mythoughts, and has done so, ever since I first saw her. It is a puredelight to think of her."

  Then he rose, threw off his velvet and lace, and designedly let histhoughts turn to Arenta. "She is pretty beyond all prettiness," he saidsoftly as he moved about, "She dances well, talks from hand to mouth,and she gave me one sweet glance; and I think if she has gone sofar--she might go further." At this reflection he smiled again, andlifting a decanter slowly poured into a goblet some amber-colouredsherry; saying--

  "I dare not yet drink to the unapproachable Cornelia; but I may atleast pour the wine to the blue-eyed goddess, with the pearl necklace,and the golden hair;" and as he lifted
the glass, a memory from somepast mirthful hour came into his remembrance; and he began to hum astrain of the song it brought to his mind--

  "Let the toast pass, Drink to the lass I'll warrant, she'll prove an excuse for the glass."

  It was remarkable that he did not take Arenta's brother into hisspeculations at all, and yet Rem Van Ariens was at that very hourchafing restlessly and sleeplessly under insults he conceived himselfto have received, in such fashion and under such circumstances as madereprisal impossible. In reality, however, Van Ariens had not beenintentionally wounded by Hyde. The situation was the natural result ofincipient jealousy and sensitive pride on Rem's part; and of that calmindifference and complaisance on Hyde's part, which appeared tacitly toassert its own superiority and expect its recognition as a matter ofcourse. Indeed, at their introduction, Rem had affected Hyde ratherpleasantly; and when the young Dutch gentleman's opposition becameevident, Hyde had simply ignored it. For as yet the thought of Rem as arival had not entered his mind.

  But this is the way of Love; its filmiest threads easily spinthemselves further; and a man once entangled is bound by that unseenchain which links the soul to its destiny.