CHAPTER XXVIII
A VISIT TO THE BREEZES
Sunrise will come next! The shadow of the night is passed away! BROWNING.
“Yes,” said the Lady of Edengarden to herself on the morning after her eventful conversation with Em., and while she and her young companion sat together in the blue parlor, engaged with their embroidery—“yes, though I have never left this island except to leave the country, I will try to break the strong spell that has bound me, and to cast off the dark nightmare that has oppressed me for years, and, for the sake of this gentle child, and of one who bears the name and likeness of him I loved and lost, I will seek the presence of the man whom I most dreaded to meet in this world.”
All who ever knew Emolyn Wyndeworth knew that she was sensitive, timid, and retiring in the extreme. To these weaknesses she owed all her misfortunes. To these she had so succumbed as to have died a moral and social death daily for the last seventeen years.
It required, therefore, a heroic effort in her to form this resolution. It would require an almost superhuman one to carry it into effect.
While she was still trying to
“Screw ‘her’ courage to the sticking place”
for an interview with Commodore Bruce, two cards were brought in by her page and placed in her hands.
“‘Dr. Willet,’ ‘Lieutenant Bruce,’” she read aloud.
Em. looked up suddenly, too much frightened to blush. She expected to see a frown of anger at this intrusion on the face of her who had worn nothing but smiles for her protégée.
But, no! that very grave face had not the slightest trace of displeasure on it.
“Where have you left these gentlemen?” she inquired of her page.
“In the small white saloon, madam.”
“I will see them there. Go and say so.”
The page left the room and the lady turned to Emolyn, whose color was rolling over her face like rose-leaves before a breeze.
“You are afraid I am not going to let you see your lover? Do not fear that, my child ; I shall send him in to you. I have something to say to Dr. Willet,” said the lady as she stooped and left a kiss on the brow of the girl and passed from the room.
In the small white saloon—which was a sort of anteroom to the large white saloon—the hostess found Dr. Willet and Lieutenant Bruce.
The former arose and advanced toward her with outstretched hands and deprecating smile, saying:
“I have to beg your pardon for what I fear you will consider an unpardonable liberty; but my young friend here——Allow me to present Lieutenant Bruce——”
Here the young officer approached and bowed reverentially, and the lady smiled on him and offered her hand, saying:
“I have heard of Lieutenant Bruce from a young lady who is staying with me, and I am very happy to make him welcome to Edengarden.”
The young officer bowed again and lifted the hand of the lady to his lips.
“So! the great gun is fired, and nobody killed or desperately wounded,” muttered the doctor to himself; then, aloud: “My young friend here, as I was about to say, asked me to introduce him to you, madam, and, in fact, would take no denial.”
“I am very glad to see him,” repeated the lady.
“He had, in fact, a small parcel belonging to your young protégée, which he did not care to trust to an ordinary messenger, and which I, for reasons, did not volunteer to bring myself,” added the doctor with a merry look.
“And perhaps, for the same cause, you would prefer to deliver your parcel in person, Mr. Bruce,” suggested the lady with a smile.
“If you please, madam,” replied the young gentleman with a bow, expecting that his hostess would then send for her little companion.
In fact, the lady touched the bell and brought her young page to her presence.
“Show this gentleman to the blue parlor,” she said to the boy. “You will find Miss Palmer there,” she added to the man.
Ronald Bruce arose, turned a grateful look upon the lady, and followed the page.
“I perceive that you have divined this pretty little love idyl, and do not disapprove it,” said Dr. Willet as soon as he was left alone with the Lady of Edengarden.
“I was about to make the very same observation to you. No, indeed, I do not disapprove of it. On the contrary, I wish to do everything I can to forward it. Dr. Willet!”
“Well, my dear?”
“I am going to match-making.”
“You, my child?”
“Yes. From what I have understood, her want of fortune is the only objection the lover’s friends have to his chosen bride—the only objection they _can_ have—for the girl is beautiful, intellectual, graceful, amiable, fairly educated, ladylike, and young enough to improve in all these things.”
“But her want of fortune, my dear lady——”
“I can supply. I have ample means and no children, no, nor even near relations in this world. I have fallen in love with this little girl! You smile, but, indeed, that is the only way in which I can express my sudden and increasing affection for little Emolyn Palmer. I will endow her richly on her marriage, and make her my heiress at my death. You smile again.”
“I am thinking, dear lady, that you and your protégée seem to be so nearly of an age, that, to use a homely proverb, ‘When one dies of old age, the other may quake for fear!’”
“There is sixteen years’ difference between our ages, doctor.”
“Indeed! But, yes, of course, when I come to remember, I know there must be. And you will really endow this child?”
“Yes, Dr. Willet, and——”
“Well, my dear?”
“I wish to see Commodore Bruce myself on this subject.”
“You do! Oh, I am delighted to hear you say that you will see him on _any_ subject! He will be so rejoiced to know that you live that I believe it will add years to his own lease of life.”
“That is very pleasant to hear. Yet I do not see why the aged commodore should take such a great interest in me! Why, indeed, he should take _any_ interest now,” said the lady thoughtfully.
“I think it is from a morbid compunction—almost remorse.”
“‘Remorse?’”
“Yes, Emolyn! For on the last night before his son Leonidas embarked on that fatal voyage from which he never returned the boy, moved by some prophetic spirit, implored his father to watch over YOU—his own lifelong playmate and companion. The father gave less heed to this parting prayer than he afterwards had reason to suppose he should have done; and he has fostered a morbid remorse of which he has only very lately made me the confidant. He will be so glad to know that you still live, dear Emolyn, that he will be likely to yield to any wish of yours, even to the consenting that his nephew and heir shall marry the overseer’s daughter.”
“Heaven grant it,” she breathed in tones so low, so full of controlled emotion, that the doctor turned and regarded her with surprise. He could not know the depths of bitter memory in her bosom that had been stirred by the name of Leonidas Bruce.
“You take this girl’s interests very deeply to heart. No doubt you will be able to influence the old commodore in their favor. Shall I bring him here to see you to-morrow?” he inquired.
“No, no, for he is aged, and, as I have heard from Emolyn Palmer, unwilling ever to stir from his home. No; but I will ask you, Dr. Willet, to take me to see him. Will you do so?”
“Most willingly, my dear young friend. When shall I have the pleasure? To-morrow? Next day? When?”
“Can I not go to-day? Accompany you when you return?” inquired the lady.
“Assuredly you can if you wish! I shall be very happy to have you. Young Bruce and I rowed ourselves here, and we shall be very glad to row you back with us.”
“How soon do you return? Do not think me inhospitable; for I know, of course, by your bringing Lieutenant Bruce, that you did not intend to give _us_ the pleasure of your company all day, and I only wished to know if you were going directly to The Breezes, or intending to keep on to Gray Rock?” said the lady with a deprecating smile.
“Oh, I understand perfectly, and so I am not sensitive! We are going directly back to The Breezes, my dear lady, and will be happy to take you with us,” said the doctor.
“Then, if you will kindly excuse me, I will go and put on my hat and shawl and be ready, so that when our young friends have got through their _tête-à-tête_ I may not keep you waiting,” replied the lady as she left the room.
In the meantime Ronald Bruce passed into the blue parlor, where he found Em. awaiting him.
The girl’s countenance prompted her to rebuke her lover for his second audacious attempt to break through her father’s prohibition. But at the sight of his loving, happy, radiant face her heart condoned the offense.
“Dear Em., dear, dearest Em.! don’t reproach me! I have not seen you for a month. I could not stand it any longer. I had to make a friend of old Dr. Willet, I mean a confidant, for he was always my friend—one of my oldest and best friends—and I got him to bring me here and introduce me to the lady of the house. Oh! Em., my treasure, I am so glad to see you! Don’t reproach me!”
Indeed, she could not do so. His beaming countenance continued to shine on her, while he held her hands, rapturously kissing them from time to time as he poured forth his impetuous stream of words.
“I am _very_ glad to see you, Ronald, but, oh! I know I ought not to be glad. Did my dear lady send you in to see me?” she inquired while he placed himself at her side on the sofa.
“Oh, yes, to be sure she did! Some good spirit must have whispered to her how much I wished to see you alone,” he said, still tightly holding her hand and pressing it to his lips.
“Don’t, Ronald, please don’t do that,” she said, withdrawing her hand, but adding, “I told the lady all about us, Ronald.”
“You! There, I said some angel had enlightened her, and you are the one!” he murmured, as he recaptured her hand and deftly slipped a ring upon her finger.
“Oh! what is this?” she exclaimed, raising the hand that he had then released and gazing upon the sparkling solitaire diamond set in the golden circle around her finger.
“It is something belonging to you,” he gravely replied.
“Belonging to me!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, it is your betrothal ring, ordered for you some weeks ago, but never received until yesterday.”
She began to withdraw the ring from her finger, but he caught her hand and prevented her from doing so as he said:
“No, Em., you must not remove it. You must wear it until it is replaced by a wedding ring. Listen, Em.! Don’t make me out a story-teller! I said I had a parcel to deliver which _belonged to you_, as it did belong to you, since it was ordered and made for you—and that was my excuse for wanting to intrude on the seclusion of this hermit lady! Don’t make me out a mendacious villain by refusing to take _what belongs to you_!”
“I don’t understand your logic, dear Ronald; but I _know_ I must not take a betrothal ring from you in the face of my father’s prohibition of our engagement,” replied the girl as she steadily withdrew the ring from her finger and returned it to him.
“Little wooden post! Little marble pillar! Little iceberg!” exclaimed the young man half angrily. “Are we _not_ engaged, then? Do you withdraw from your promise?”
“No, dear Ronald, not one iota! I promised never to marry any other person but you, and, of course, I never shall. It was hardly worth while to have made such a promise, though! It was altogether a word of supererogation, for in _no_ case could I ever think of any other marriage. But notwithstanding that, Ronald, I can never marry you until my father withdraws his opposition, and so, dear, I must not take your ring.”
“It is _you_ who are as relentless as a griffin! I do not find it so difficult to manage the old man. He did not forbid me the house the last time I went to see you there! No, although I went there on that occasion against his order!”
“I suppose he thought it was no use to prohibit the visits of a man who paid no attention to his prohibition,” said Em. gravely.
“No, that was not the reason! My father-in-law who is to be would have been more likely to have kicked out any other man but me, under the like circumstances. But I am really very much attached to the old man, and he knows it, and he _could_ not snub me while I smiled in his face! That was the reason why he did not repeat his prohibition or even forbid me to visit you here!”
“Oh, my father would never have done the last! He had no right to say that you should not come to Edengarden. But, Ronald, he confides in your honor and in mine. And we must not abuse his confidence. He shall not be disappointed in us, Ronald. Oh, I have something so delightful to tell you, dear Ronald! I have already told you how I made known our case to my dear friend and benefactress, and I suppose that was the reason why she staid with Dr. Willet and sent you in to see me. Well, Ronald, this dear lady feels so interested in us that she is going to interfere, and she says she has a _talisman_—that is only her way of saying that she has power and influence with the commodore sufficient to win his consent to our marriage.”
“The Lady of Edengarden said that?” exclaimed young Bruce in surprise.
“Indeed she did, dear, and she promised faithfully to use her power in our favor.”
“I do not know what power or influence this beautiful, mysterious and most interesting lady can have with my old uncle. I am very sure that he is not even acquainted with her; for on one occasion, when I first came to The Breezes, I asked him if he knew his neighbor on the island, whose name was on everybody’s lips; he said no, he didn’t know her, and had never even heard of her until very recently; and he added in his rough way that he didn’t want to know her—that he disapproved of women whose eccentricities placed their names in everybody’s mouth! That is a dark prospect for her success with my uncle, Em., my darling!”
“Ah! but I suspect that the Lady of Edengarden knows what she is talking about. Besides, how should Commodore Bruce be able to tell whether he has ever known her before? Hardly any one knows who she was, or where she came from. For my part, I believe she _has_ the power and influence which she claims,” said Em., speaking with confidence, although she did not feel at liberty to speak with explicitness.
“Very well, my dearest, I pin my faith on Mrs. Lynn and on your superior knowledge of that lady, only devoutly praying that my faith, as well as yours, may be justified,” said Ronald Bruce.
What more he might have said on the same subject does not appear, because the abrupt entrance of the little page stopped the conversation.
“If you please, sir, Dr. Willet bid me say to you, with his compliments, that he is ready to go,” said the boy.
“Very well! Tell Dr. Willet I will join him in a minute,” replied the young man.
The boy withdrew to carry his message.
When they were once more alone Em. said:
“Dear Ronald, do not keep the good doctor waiting.”
“I will not, darling, especially as I owe to him the introduction that enables me to visit you here; for now that an _entrée_ has been effected, I shall come often, Em., unless my excellent father-in-law-elect should take it into his conscientious head to forbid me! Well, good-by, my precious!” he said, stooping to kiss her.
“Stop,” she said, deftly evading the caress. “I am going out with you to see Dr. Willet. I want to ask him how my dear old Aunty Whitlock is!”
“Oh, Em., was ever a girl so blessed or burdened with relations as you are?”
“Blessed—not burdened,” said Em. as they left the parlor and walked on together to the little white saloon.
“Oh, Dr. Willet, I am so glad to see you to-day. Have you been to the Wilderness this morning?” inquired Em. as she shook hands with the good physician.
“Yes, my child; and I left them all well, with the exception of Mrs. Whitlock, who is no better,” replied the doctor as he arose to take leave.
“You are going out, dear madam?” inquired Em. as she saw Mrs. Lynn standing beside the door, dressed for her visit.
“Yes, my love. The doctor’s call this morning is very opportune, since it affords me the privilege of his escort to The Breezes,” said Mrs. Lynn with a bow to the physician.
Em. exchanged an intelligent glance with her lover; but that was all they could do, for the doctor advanced and shook hands with her again, this time bidding her good-by.
“But who is to bring you home again, madam?” anxiously inquired Em. of her benefactress.
“_I_ shall have that honor, so I will not say good-by, but _au revoir_,” Ronald Bruce hastened to add as he seized and pressed her hand.
The lady and her escort then left the house and walked down to the boat.
“It is only about half way to the Wilderness Manor Landing that we have to go to reach The Breezes, I believe,” said Mrs. Lynn, as she permitted herself to be assisted into the boat and accommodated with a cushioned seat in the stern.
“Scarcely so far. We shall reach The Breezes in half an hour with _our_ rowing,” answered Ronald Bruce, as he pushed off the boat.
Then both gentlemen laid themselves to the oars and the boat sped on.