Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 14 (16 page)

 
          
           
The sound of Bella's voice recalled him, for she was saying, half kindly, half
petulantly, "Don't look so sad, Jean. Ned will outlive it, I dare say. You
remember you said once men never died of love, though women might. In his one
note to me, he spoke so beautifully of you, and begged me to be kind to you for
his sake, that I try to be with all my heart, though if it was anyone but you,
I really think I should hate them for making my dear boy so unhappy."

 
          
           
"You are too kind, Bella, and I often think I'll go away to relieve you of
my presence; but unwise and dangerous as it is to stay, I haven't the courage
to go. I've been so happy here." And as she spoke, Jean's head dropped
lower over the dog as it nestled to her affectionately.

 
          
           
Before Bella could utter half the loving words that sprang to her lips,
Coventry came to them with all languor gone from face and mien, and laying
Jean's letter before her, he said, with an undertone of deep feeling in his
usually emotionless voice, "A right womanly and eloquent letter, but I
fear it will only increase the fire it was meant to quench. I pity my brother
more than ever now."

 
          
           
"Shall I send it?" asked Jean, looking straight up at him, like one
who had entire reliance on his judgment.

 
          
           
"Yes, I have not the heart to rob him of such a sweet sermon upon
self-sacrifice. Shall I post it for you?"

 
          
           
"Thank you; in a moment."
And with a
grateful look, Jean dropped her eyes. Producing her little purse, she selected
a penny, folded it in a bit of paper, and then offered both letter and coin to
Coventry
, with such a pretty air of business, that
he could not control a laugh.

 
          
           
"So you won't be indebted to me for a penny? What a proud woman you are, Miss
Muir."  

 
          
           
"I am; it's a family failing." And she gave him a significant glance,
which recalled to him the memory of who she was. He understood her feeling, and
liked
her the
better for it, knowing that he would
have done the same had he been in her place. It was a little thing, but if done
for effect, it answered admirably, for it showed a quick insight into his
character on her part, and betrayed to him the existence of a pride in which he
sympathized heartily. He stood by Jean a moment, watching her as she burnt
Edward's letter in the blaze of the spirit lamp under the urn.

 
          
           
"Why do you do that?" he asked involuntarily.

 
          
           
"Because it is my duty to forget" was all her answer.

 
          
           
"Can you always forget when it becomes a duty?"

 
          
           
"I wish I could! I wish I could!"

 
          
           
She spoke passionately, as if the words broke from her against her will, and,
rising hastily, she went into the garden, as if afraid to stay.

 
          
           
"Poor, dear Jean is very unhappy about something, but I can't discover what
it is. Last night I found her crying over a rose, and now she runs away,
looking as if her heart was broken. I'm glad I've got no lessons."

 
          
           
"What kind of a rose?" asked
Coventry
from behind his paper as Bella
paused.
 

 
          
           
"A lovely white one.
It must have come from the
Hall; we have none like it. I wonder if Jean was ever going to be married, and
lost her lover, and felt sad because the flower reminded her of bridal
roses."

 
          
           
Coventry
made no reply, but felt
himself
change countenance as he recalled the little scene behind the rose hedge, where
he gave Jean the flower which she had refused yet taken. Presently, to Bella's
surprise, he flung down the paper, tore
Sydney
's note to atoms, and rang for his horse
with an energy which amazed her.

 
          
           
"Why, Gerald, what has come over you? One would think Ned's restless
spirit had suddenly taken possession of you. What are you going to do?"

 
          
           
"I'm going to work" was the unexpected answer, as
Coventry
turned toward her with an expression so
rarely seen on his fine face.

 
          
           
"What has waked you up all at once?" asked Bella, looking more and
more amazed.

 
          
           
"You did," he said, drawing her toward him.

 
          
           
"I! When?
How?"

 
          
           
"Do you remember saying once that energy was better than beauty in a man,
and that no one could respect an idler?"

 
          
           
"I never said anything half
so
sensible as that.
Jean said something like it once, I believe, but I forgot. Are you tired of
doing nothing, at last, Gerald?"

 
          
           
"Yes, I neglected my duty to Ned, till he got into trouble, and now I
reproach myself for it. It's not too late to do other neglected tasks, so I'm
going at them with a will. Don't say anything about it to anyone, and don't
laugh at me, for I'm in earnest,
Bell
."

 
          
           
"I know you are, and I admire and love you for it, my dear old boy,"
cried Bella enthusiastically, as she threw her arms about his neck and kissed
him heartily. "What will you do first?" she asked, as he stood
thoughtfully smoothing the bright head that leaned upon his shoulder, with that
new expression still clear and steady in his face.

 
          
           
"I'm going to ride over the whole estate, and attend to things as a master
should; not leave it all to Bent, of whom I've heard many complaints, but have
been too idle to inquire about them. I shall consult Uncle, and endeavor to be
all that my father was in his time. Is that a worthy ambition, dear?"

 
          
           
"Oh, Gerald, let me tell Mamma. It will make her so happy. You are her
idol, and to hear you say these things, to see you look so like dear Papa,
would do more for her spirits than all the doctors in
England
."

 
          
           
"Wait till I prove what my resolution is worth. When I have really done
something, then I'll surprise Mamma with a sample of my work."

 
          
           
"Of course you'll tell Lucia?"

 
          
           
"Not on any account. It is a little secret between us, so keep it till I
give you leave to tell it."

 
          
           
"But Jean will see it at once; she knows everything that happens, she is
so quick and wise. Do you mind her knowing?"

 
          
           
"I don't see that I can help it if she is so wonderfully gifted. Let her
see what she can, I don't mind her. Now I'm off." And with a kiss to his
sister, a sudden smile on his face,
Coventry
sprang upon his horse and rode away at a
pace which caused the groom to stare after him in blank amazement.

 
          
           
Nothing more was seen of him till dinnertime, when he came in so exhilarated by
his brisk ride and busy morning that he found some difficulty in assuming his
customary manner, and more than once astonished the family by talking
animatedly on various subjects which till now had always seemed utterly
uninteresting to him. Lucia was amazed, his mother delighted, and Bella could
hardly control her desire to explain the mystery; but Jean took it very calmly
and regarded him with the air of one who said, "I understand, but you will
soon tire of it." This nettled him more than he would confess, and he
exerted himself to silently contradict that prophecy.

 
          
           
"Have you answered Mr. Sydney's letter?" asked Bella, when they were
all scattered about the drawing room after dinner.

 
          
           
"No," answered her brother, who was pacing up and down with restless
steps, instead of lounging near his beautiful cousin.

 
          
           
"I ask because I remembered that Ned sent a message for him in my last
note, as he thought you would know
Sydney
's address. Here it
is,
something about a horse. Please put it in when you write," and Bella laid
the note on the writing table nearby.

 
          
           
"I'll send it at once and have done with it," muttered
Coventry
and, seating himself, he dashed off a few
lines, sealed and sent the letter, and then resumed his march, eyeing the three
young ladies with three different expressions, as he passed and repassed. Lucia
sat apart, feigning to be intent upon a book, and her handsome face looked
almost stern in its haughty composure, for though her heart ached, she was too
proud to own it. Bella now lay on the sofa, half asleep, a rosy little
creature, as unconsciously pretty as a child. Miss Muir sat in the recess of a
deep window, in a low lounging chair, working at an embroidery frame with a
graceful industry pleasant to see. Of late she had worn colors, for Bella had
been generous in gifts, and the pale blue muslin which flowed in soft waves
about her was very becoming to her fair skin and golden hair. The close braids
were gone, and loose curls dropped here and there from the heavy coil wound
around her well-shaped head. The tip of one dainty foot was visible, and a
petulant little gesture which now and then shook back the falling sleeve gave
glimpses of a round white arm. Ned's great hound lay nearby, the sunshine
flickered on her through the leaves, and as she sat smiling to herself, while
the dexterous hands shaped leaf and flower, she made a charming picture of all
that is most womanly and winning; a picture which few men's eyes would not have
liked to rest upon.

 
          
           
Another chair stood near her, and as
Coventry
went up and down, a strong desire to take
it possessed him. He was tired of his thoughts and wished to be amused by
watching the changes of the girl's expressive face, listening to the varying
tones of her voice, and trying to discover the spell which so strongly
attracted him in spite of himself. More than once he swerved from his course to
gratify his whim, but Lucia's presence always restrained him, and with a word
to the dog, or a glance from the window, as pretext for a pause, he resumed his
walk again. Something in his cousin's face reproached him, but her manner of
late was so repellent that he felt no desire to resume their former
familiarity, and, wishing to show that he did not consider himself bound, he
kept aloof. It was a quiet test of the power of each woman over this man; they
instinctively felt it, and both tried to conquer. Lucia spoke several times,
and tried to speak frankly and affably; but her manner was constrained, and
Coventry
, having answered politely, relapsed into
silence. Jean said nothing, but silently appealed to eye and ear by the pretty
picture she made of herself, the snatches of song she softly sang, as if
forgetting that she was not alone, and a shy glance now and then, half wistful,
half merry, which was more alluring than graceful figure or sweet voice. When
she had tormented Lucia and tempted
Coventry
long enough, she quietly asserted her
supremacy in a way which astonished her rival, who knew nothing of the secret
of her birth, which knowledge did much to attract and charm the young man.
Letting a ball of silk escape from her lap, she watched it roll toward the
promenader, who caught and returned it with an alacrity which added grace to
the trifling service. As she took it, she said, in the frank way that never
failed to win him, "I think you must be tired; but if exercise is
necessary, employ your energies to some purpose and put your mother's basket of
silks in order. They are in a tangle, and it will please her to know that you
did it, as your brother used to do."