XXIV
OLD LOVE'S STRIVING WITH YOUNG LOVE
That night Philip Alston stayed later than usual at Cedar House. He waswaiting for the others to go to bed, so that he might have a quiet talkwith Ruth. On one or two rare occasions they had been left alonetogether before the wide hearth, and they both looked back on thesetimes as among the pleasantest they had ever known. But theopportunities for privacy are very few where there is only one livingroom for an entire family, and the size and publicity of this great roomof Cedar House made them fewer than they could have been in almost anyother household. And Ruth, seeing what he wished, was looking forwardnow with even greater delight than she had felt heretofore; the delightthat young love feels at the thought of giving its first confidence to aloving, sympathetic heart. She looked at him often through the waiting,with shining eyes, so happy, so eager to ask him to share her happinessthat she could hardly wait till the others were gone. William Pressleydid not tax her patience long and the judge, too, soon went away to hiscabin with David to see that he reached it safely. The old ladies wereslower in going; Miss Penelope had many domestic duties to perform, andthe movements of the widow Broadnax were always governed entirely byhers. But they, also, went at last with Ruth to assist the stouter ladyin getting up the stairs.
The girl came flying down again, with her eyes dancing and her heartplaying a tune. Philip Alston rose as she approached, and stood awaitingher with a look on his face that she had never seen before.
"You are tired, dear uncle Philip," she said, taking his hand andholding it against her cheek as she raised her radiant eyes to his face."Come to the fire and take this big chair. I will sit on the footstoolat your knee. There, now! You can rest and be happy. Isn't it sweet tobe alone--just you and I--together like this! I love you so dearly, dearuncle Philip. It seems as if I had never before really known just howmuch I do love you. It seems as if my heart couldn't hold quite all thehappiness that fills it to-night. And the tenderness filling it to thebrim brings a new feeling of your goodness to me."
She had taken the low seat by his side, and now laid her head down onhis knee. He stroked her hair with an unsteady hand; sorely troubled andnot knowing what to say. He suddenly looked very old, and felt morehelpless than ever before in his life. Looking down on this beautifulhead he realized in every sensitive fibre of his soul and body that thislovely young creature, clinging to his knee, was the one thing in thewhole world that he had ever loved--deeply, truly, purely, andunselfishly; that her gentle heart was the only heart out of all thehearts beating on the earth that had ever loved him as the innocent lovethe good. Thinking of this he shrank and trembled, feeling that he heldin his grasp a fragile treasure precious beyond all price, which a rudetouch might destroy forever. He knew the evil reputation which rumor hadgiven him, and he had seen that Paul Colbert believed the worst. Therehad been no disguise in the expression of the young doctor's eyes. Hisgaze bold and keen as an unhooded falcon's, had frankly proclaimed hisdislike and mistrust, making it only too plain that he asked no favor bypretending ignorance or on the score of any friendliness that he did notfeel. His look and attitude had indeed been so unmistakable that PhilipAlston now wondered in sudden terror if she had not already observedthem, and he--who had feared nothing in all his life--quailed andquivered before this sudden fear with abject cowardice. In anothermoment he knew that her trust in him had not been shaken; the resting ofher head on his knee told him so much. But how long would it or could itstand against the doubts of the man she loved? That was the questionwhich went through Philip Alston's breast like the thrust of a sword.Her husband's influence would be supreme. A tender, gentle creature, shewould be easily influenced through her affections. The young doctormight keep silence, seeing her love for himself and respecting herregard for her foster-father; but he was not the man to hide what hereally thought and felt, and she must divine the truth before long.Philip Alston had no hope of changing Paul Colbert's opinion of himself;he knew the world and mankind too well to think for a moment that anyman might hope to live down such charges as those which had been broughtagainst himself. Ruth must know sooner or later, and, knowing, would shestill love him? There came now a sort of piteous appeal in the touch ofhis unsteady hand on her hair. The slightest suspicion must blast theexquisite flower of her tender love. With his quick, full appreciationof everything truly noble he had often noted the firm principles, whichlay under her sweet gentleness like fine white marble under soft greenmoss. He did not know that this very trait for which he had loved her,and which now made him afraid, had already been tested again and again;and that her love for him and trust in him, had stood against everyattack as firmly as great rocks stand against shallow waves. No, he knewnothing of all this, and he was now in such desperate fear that hedared not speak or move or do anything but stroke her hair with ashaking hand, and stare over her head at the fire trying to clear hismind. She had been silent also, but presently she spoke, putting up herhand to pat the one that was stroking her hair.
"I am waiting, dear heart," she said softly, "waiting to hear what youthink of my Paul. I have been wanting so long to tell you; it was onaccount of William that I waited. But you know now, and I am so glad--soglad! Tell me what you think of him. There is no one but you who can seeall that he is. And there is no one but him who can see all that youare. But you two, my dearest, are capable of appreciating each other.And I am a happy, happy girl."
He was feeling faint and sick under the hopelessness of any strugglebetween old love and young love. With every look of her radiant eyes,with every gentle word that fell from her sweet lips, he was feelingmore and more how utterly useless would be any attempt to come betweenher and her lover. And looking at her he could not think of making anysuch attempt. When an all-absorbing love has taken complete possessionof an empty and worldly heart, that heart becomes more powerless beforethat love, than a fuller and softer heart ever does. He could not speak,but he murmured something and she went on:--
"How sweet it is to be here alone with you, like this, in the dear,dark, big, old room. Why, uncle, dear, it seems only yesterday that youwere rocking me in my cradle, over there in the chimney-corner; when youwere already petting and spoiling me, just as you have always done. Andto think that I am talking to you to-night about my Paul! Can yourealize that it's true? Well, it is--the very truest thing in all theworld."
She paused for a moment, but she did not observe that he made noresponse, and she began again:--
"You see, dear uncle, I didn't mean to love him. I meant to love Williamand I did in a way as I do now. He is such a good man, but I have foundout that goodness, just by itself, is not enough. It may make love last,but it can't make it begin. Why, I never even thought whether my Paulwas good or not. I must have loved him just the same."
"But you couldn't love a man if you found out that he was bad, afterbelieving him to be good. It wouldn't be possible for you to do that,would it?" in strange, agitated haste.
She lifted her head and looked at him wonderingly. "I don't know whatyou mean. My Paul is good! Why, he is here in the wilderness solely forlove of humanity, giving his strength, his skill, his time, and all thathe has to the service of his country and his kind, just because he isgood, and for no other reason. There is no better man living, not evenFather Orin, not even you, sir," throwing her arms around his knee andgiving it a loving squeeze. "And you know it, too, you are only laughingat me. I don't mind at all. I am too happy to care for teasing."
She laid her head back on his knees and fell happily silent, gazingdreamily into the flames. The wind was rising, and went roaring throughthe trees around the house; but she heard it with the peaceful feelingof shelter and safety that only happiness feels in wild weather.Presently she asked him if he thought that souls could speak to oneanother.
"It was at Anvil Rock," she said as simply as if she had been thinkingaloud. "I had never thought about loving him. He had never told me thathe loved me, but I knew then that he did. Something told me while he w
aslying on the ground like a dead man. What do you think it could havebeen? What was it?"
Looking up she saw the shrinking in his face, and she thought it camefrom his dislike of any mention of painful subjects; but her whole heartwas in this question so that she could not let it go without pressing ita little further.
"But tell me, dearest, can souls communicate without speech or sign--ifthey only love enough?" she urged.
"You are a fanciful, romantic child," he said, trying to smile and tospeak lightly. "Why--the man was an utter stranger then--you didn't knowhim at all."
He had taken her chin in his hand, and his eyes were now lookingsteadily into hers; but the courage of the moment fled when sheinvoluntarily drew away. He was alarmed at the effect of this one slighteffort.
"Such things are too subtle for an old man, my child, too subtle,perhaps, for any man either young or old," he said hurriedly andconfusedly. "You women see and feel many things that fly high above ourheads. And then I am duller than usual to-night. I am anxious aboutbusiness matters. The river is rising rapidly, there is danger of adisastrous flood. My boats are not in safe places, and worst of all theCold Plague broke out to-day on one of them. The boat is tied up to theisland. I sent it over there immediately so that you, and the rest ofthe family, might be in no danger from the spread of the epidemic. Butit worries me, and one of the boatmen is said to be dying."
"Send for my Paul. He can cure him. The plague-stricken hardly ever dieif he can get to them in time."
She said this with a pretty air of pride in her lover, and a gentle liftof her head. He made no reply, and she turned her eyes from the fire tohis face to see why he was silent so long. He was pale with a strangegray pallor, and he met her gaze with a startled, alarmed look. It wasthe look of a man who blanches and shrinks before some sudden greattemptation. She misread the look, taking it for unwillingness to sendfor her lover.
"You mustn't think of sending for Doctor Colbert if you prefer the otherdoctor," with swift, fiery jealousy. "But I warn you that if you do, theman will certainly die."
"Do you know where he is to be found in case I should want to send forhim?" he said after a moment's silence, and with constraint andhesitation.
"He is riding so much that it is hard to tell; but, uncle, dear,"melting and putting her arms about him, "I should not be reallyoffended, of course, if you were to send for the other doctor. You can,dear, if you want to. I like him ever so much better myself, since hetook such good care of my Paul."
He laughed uneasily and got up, saying that he was going to see aboutthe trouble on the boat. He saw that he must have a cleared mind andsteadied nerves with time to think. And he could not think in herpresence, he could only feel her blue eyes on his face and her littlehands clasped around his knee or about his arm. He tried not to look ather, and hurriedly began buttoning his coat before starting on his coldway home. In drawing his coat closer, his hand came in contact with thepearls which he had forgotten. He drew them out and hung them againaround her neck. She thanked him with a smile, but he saw that shescarcely looked at them, that she was thinking only of her love and herlover, though she held his hand and walked beside him to the front door.
From it they could see dimly and were able to make out the black bulk ofthe boat lying far out in the river beside the island. As he looked atit a feeling of the worthlessness of all that he owned swept over him,overwhelming him with despair. All the gold that he had gathered, orever could gather, would be worthless yellow dust if he might not use itto give her comfort or pleasure or happiness. He realized suddenly thatthis was everything that his riches had meant to him ever since she hadwound herself around his heart. Money could do little for him; he wasweary and old and sad and had come to feel--as every rich man must cometo feel sooner or later--that for himself his riches meant, after all,only food and clothes. And now he found himself facing the end of thesole interest and happiness that he could ever hope to find in life.Henceforth it would be with the utmost that he could do, as it had beenjust now with these pearls. He fully recognized the hopelessness oftrying to win her away from her lover. That had grown plainer with everygentle word that she had said while they had sat before the fire. And heknew that this proud young fellow, whose glance had met his like thecrossing of swords, would never allow her to touch a penny of his money,or anything that it could buy, if he could help it. The thought was liketearing the heart out of his breast, and another thought sprang up againin defence of all that he held dear. He began to breathe quickly andheavily, like a man who has been running. He feared that she must feelthe plunging of his heart, for she was leaning against him, looking outat the wild, windy night. But she heard only the mournful wail of thewind through the great trees, and the roar of the river rushing underthe misty darkness. There was no moon, but the stars were shining in thedark dome of the universe.
"I wonder why the stars look so old, while the world looks so new," shemurmured, with her head on his shoulder and her face upturned. "I wonderwhy there is such a look of changelessness about the heavens, while theearth seems changing so fast!"
Her eyes were wandering over the infinite starry spaces with wonderingawe, but he was looking down at her and he started when she cried out inamazement, touched with alarm. She lifted her hand and pointed, andfollowing its direction, he saw that the comet had disappeared.
The celestial visitor was gone almost as suddenly and mysteriously as ithad come.
Round Anvil Rock: A Romance Page 24