VI.
A HAND CLASP.
"_Fer._--Here's my hand.
_Mir._--And mine with my heart in it."
--TEMPEST.
Once arrived at a settled conclusion, I put every thought of waveringout of my mind. Deciding that with such a friend in business circles asyourself, I needed no other introducer to my new life, I set apart thisevening for a confab with you on the subject. Meanwhile it is prettygenerally known that I make no more engagements to appear through thecountry.
I have but one more incident to relate. Last Sunday in walking downFifth Avenue I met her. I did not do this inadvertently. I knew hercustom of attending Bible class and for once put myself in her way. Idid not give her time to remonstrate.
"Do not express your displeasure," said I, "this shall never berepeated. I merely wish to say that I have concluded to leave aprofession so little appreciated by those whose esteem I most desire topossess; that I am about entering a banker's office where it shall be myambition to rise if possible, to wealth and consequence. If Isucceed--you shall then know what my incentive has been. But till Isucceed or at least give such tokens of success as shall insure respect,silence must be my portion and patience my sole support. Only of onething rest assured, that until I inform you with my own lips that thehope which now illumines me is gone, it will continue to burn on in mybreast, shedding light upon a way that can never seem dark while thatglow rests upon it." And bowing with the ceremonious politeness ourpositions demanded, I held out my hand. "One clasp to encourage me," Ientreated.
It seemed as if she did not comprehend. "You are going to give up music,and for--for--"
"You?" said I. "Yes, don't forbid me," I implored; "it is too late."
Like a lovely image of blushing girlhood turned by a lightning flashinto marble, she paused, pallid and breathless where she was, gazingupon me with eyes that burned deeper and deeper as the fullcomprehension of all that this implied gradually forced itself upon hermind.
"You make a chaos of my little world," she murmured at length.
"No," said I, "_your_ world is untouched. If it should never be my goodfortune to enter it, you are not to grieve. You are free, Miss Preston,free as this sunshiny air we breathe; I alone am bound, and that becauseI must be whether I will or no."
Then I saw the woman I had worshipped in this young fair girl shinefully and fairly upon me. Drawing herself up, she looked me in the faceand calmly laid her hand in mine. "I am young," said she, "and do notknow what may be right to say to one so generous and so kind. But thismuch I can promise, that whether or not I am ever able to duly rewardyou for what you undertake, I will at least make it the study of my lifenever to prove unworthy of so much trust and devotion."
And with the last lingering look natural to a parting for years, weseparated then and there, and the crowd came between us, and the Sundaybells rang on, and what was so vividly real to us at the moment, becamein remembrance more like the mist and shadow of a dream.
The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life Page 7