Hearts Afire (2 page)

“But of course I do!” cried Charlotte, returning the kiss with
fervour
. “Nay,
Harleigh
, tell
me.”

“I see ye mean to have the whole tale out of me, so—”

“To be sure I do!” Charlotte nodded.

He laid a warning finger on her lips and summoned up a mighty frown.

“Now will ye be done interrupting, me my lady?”

Not a whit abashed, she bit the finger, pushed it away, and folding her
hands in her chest, cast her eyes meekly heavenwards.

With a twinkle in his own eyes the young man continued:

“Well, Charlotte, ye must know that yesterday I was at the machine shop with
your father—and he treated me roughly, and I had very uneasy feelings about the
matter—”

On a sudden Charlotte's demure air changed.

“Is that so,
Harleigh
? I make no doubt your
feelings were true? Realize, how much father loves me?”

“
Whisht
,
darlin
', is a
mere
thrifle
, I assure you.... things will play out—”

My lady's eyes widened in comfortableness, and two little hands clutched at
his coat.

“Oh,
Harleigh
!”

His arm tightened round her waist.

“Such a miraculous piece of happiness!” the young fellow
ejaculated; and his joy was so evident that Charlotte could not bear to spoil
it with any reluctances, or with half-way graciousness. She fell into his joyous
mood, and as star to star vibrates light, so his soul touched her soul, through
some finer element than ordinary life is conscious of. A delightsome gladness
was between them, and their words had such heart gaiety, that they seemed to
dance as they spoke; while the wind blowing Charlotte's hair, and scarf, and
drapery, was like a merry playfellow.

Time went swiftly, and suddenly Charlotte remembered that she was subject to
hours and minutes, A little fear came into her heart, and closed it, and she said,
with a troubled air, “My mother will be anxious. I had forgotten. I must go
home.” So they walked with much determination, and Charlotte was silent, and
the
ardour
of her lover was a little chilled; but yet
never before had Charlotte heard simple conversation which seemed so eloquent,
and so full of meanings— only, now and then, a few brief words; but oh! What
long, long thoughts, they carried with them!

At the gates of her home they stood a moment, and there
Harleigh
touched her hand, and said, “I have never, in all my life, been so happy. It
has been a walk beyond hope, and beyond expression!” And she lifted her face,
and the smile on her lips and the light in her eyes answered him. Then the
great white door shut her from his sight, and he walked rapidly away, saying to
his impetuous steps—

“An enchanting creature! An adorable girl! I have given
her my heart; and lost, is lost; and gone, is gone forever. That I am sure of.
But, by George! Every man has his fate, and I rejoice that mine is so sweet and
fair! So sweet! So sweet! So fair!”

Charlotte trembled as she opened the parlor door, she feared to look into
her mother's face, but it was as serene as usual, and she met her daughter's
glance with one of infinite affection and some little expectancy. This was a
critical moment, and Charlotte hesitated slightly. Some little false sprite put
a ready excuse into her heart, but she banished it at once, and with the
courage of one who fears lest they are not truthful enough, she said with a
blunt directness which put all subterfuge out of the question—

“Mother, I have been a long time, but I met
Harleigh
,
and we walked down to the Universal Store; and I think I have stayed beyond the
hour I ought to have stayed—but the weather was so delightful.”

“The weather is very delightful, and
Harleigh
is
very polite.”

“I suppose he is.”

“The young man is very extravagant, I think. Do you know
that it is quite noon, and your father will be home in a little while?”

And there was such kind intent, such a divining sympathy
in the simple words, so that Charlotte's heart grew warm with pleasure; and she
felt that her mother understood, and did not much blame her. At the same time
she was glad to escape all questioning, and with the violets pressed to her
heart, and her shining eyes dropped to them, she went with some haste to her
room. There she kissed the flowers, one by one, as she put them in the
refreshing water; and then, forgetting all else, sat down and permitted herself
to enter the delicious land of Reverie. She let the thought of
Harleigh
repossess her; and present again and again to her
imagination his form, his face, his voice, and those long caressing looks she
had seen and felt, without seeming to be aware of them.

A short time after Charlotte came home, Mr. Morgan
returned from his shop. As he entered the room, his wife looked at him with a
curious interest. In the first place, the tenor of her thoughts led her to this
observation. She wished to assure herself again that the man for whom she had
given up everything previously dear to her was worthy of such sacrifice. A
momentary glance satisfied her. Nature had left the impress of her nobility on
his finely-formed forehead; nothing but truth and kindness looked from his
candid eyes; and his manner, if a little dogmatic, had also an unmistakable air
of that distinction which comes from long and honorable ancestry and a
recognized position. He had also this morning an air of unusual solemnity, and
on entering the room, he drew his wife close to his heart and kissed her
affectionately, a token of love he was not apt to give without thought, or
under every circumstance.

“You are a little earlier today,” she said. “I am glad
of it.”

“I have had a morning full of back orders from the shop,
and had to get away from all.”

“And have you met with the rigorous demand this
morning?”

“Indeed, yes, and where is Charlotte?”

“In her room, she went to the Universal Store this morning for me, and
Harleigh
met her, and they took a walk together to
the store.
It was near the noon hour when she returned.”

“She told you about it?”

“Oh yes, and without inquiry.”

“Very good. I must look after that young fellow.” But he
said the words without much care, Mrs. Morgan was not satisfied.

“Then you do not disapprove the meeting?” she asked.

“Yes, I do. I disapprove of any young man in my
employment meeting my daughter. Charlotte is too young for lovers, and it is
not desirable that she should have attentions from young men who have no
intentions. I do not want her to be what is called a belle. Certainly not.”

“But the young men do not think her too young to be
loved. I can see that young Sir Edward is very fond of her.”

“Sir Edward is a very fine young man. If Charlotte were
to marry him, I should make no objections to Edward. He has some money. He
promises to be a good lawyer.

“And
Harleigh
?”

“
Harleigh
, Has too many objectionable qualities to
be worth considering.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I will only name one, and one for which he is not
responsible; but yet it would be insuperable, as far as I am concerned. His
father is of low degree of the most pronounced type, and this young man is
quite like him. I will have no commoner of the beggarly sort in my family.”

“My family could be considered of low degree, but you married me.”

The young man's faults are in breeding; they are in the blood. Charlotte
shall not have anything to do with him.

Why do you speak of such disagreeable things?”

“Disagreeable things, Mean you that our little daughter should marry some
good-for-nothing? Look, then, I would rather see her white and cold in the
dead-chamber. In a word, I will have no person of objectionable qualities among
the Morgan s. There, Today I will speak no more of this matter.”

Elder Alexander Van
Heemskirk
was a great man in
his sphere. He had a reputation for both riches and godliness, and was scarcely
more respected in the market-place than he was in the Middle Kirk. And there
was an old tie between the Van
Heemskirks
and the
Morgans
,—a tie going back to the days when the Scotch
Covenanters and the Netherland Confessors clasped hands as brothers in their
“churches under the cross.” Then one of the Van
Heemskirks
had fled for life from Scotland to Holland, and been sheltered in the house of
a Morgan; and from generation to generation the friendship had been continued.
So there was much real kindness and very little ceremony between the families.

“Sit down, Elder, near the fire. A glass of hot
Hollands
will take the chill from you.”

“You are more than kind,
Joris
, I'll now say that
a small glass would be nice, what with the late hour, and the thick mist.”

“Come, come, Elder. Mists in every country you will find, until you reach
the New Jerusalem.”

“Very true, but there's a difference in mists. Now, a Scotch mist isn’t at
all unhealthy. When I was a lad, I had been out in them for a week straight,
and I never felt better.” He had taken off his plaid and hat as he spoke; and
he drew the chair set for him in front of the blazing logs, and stretched out
his thin legs to the comforting heat.

In the meantime Joanna Van
Heemskirk
daughter of
Elder Van
Heemskirk
, had gone upstairs; and their
footsteps and voices, and Charlotte's rippling laugh, could be heard distinctly
through the open doors. Then Madam called, “Joanna!” and the girl came down at
once. She was tying on her white apron as she entered the room; and, at a word
from her mother, she began to take from the cupboards various Dutch dainties,
and East Indian jars of fruits and sweetmeats, and a case of crystal bottles,
and some fine lemons. She was a fair, rosy girl, with a kind, cheerful face, a
pleasant voice, and a smile that was at once innocent and bright. Her fine
light hair was rolled high and backward; and no one could have imagined a dress
more suitable to her than the trig dark bodice, the quilted skirt, and the
white apron she wore.

Her father and mother watched her with a loving satisfaction; and though
Elder Van
Heemskirk
was discoursing on that memorable
dispute between the
Caetus
and
Conferentie
parties, which had resulted in the establishment of a new independent Dutch
church in America, he was quite sensible of Joanna's presence, and of what she
was doing.

“I was aye for the ordaining of American ministers in America,” he said, as
he touched the fingertips of his left hand with those of his right; and then in
an aside full of deep personal interest, “Joanna, my dearie, I'll have a
Holland bloater and
nae
other thing. And I was a
proud man when I got the invite to be secretary to the first meeting of the new
Caetus
. Maybe it is praising green barley to say just
yet that it was a wise departure; but I think so, I think so.”

At this point, Charlotte Morgan came into the room; and the elder slightly
moved his chair, and said, “Come in, my bonnie lass, and let us have a look at
you.” And Charlotte laughingly pushed a stool toward the fire, and sat down
between the two men on the hearthstone. She was the daintiest little maiden
that ever latched a shoe,—very diminutive, with a complexion like a sea-shell,
great brown eyes, and such a quantity of brown hair
hair
,
that it made light of its ribbon snood, and rippled over her brow and slender
white neck in bewildering waves. She dearly loved fine clothes; and she had not
removed her outer wrap of Indian silk, nor her scarf of French design. And in
her hands she held a great mass of lilies of the valley, which she caressed
almost as if they were living things.

“Father,” Charlotte said, nestling close to his side, “look at the lilies.
How straight they are! How strong! Oh, the white bells full of sweet scent! In
them put your face, father. They smell of the spring.” Her fingers could
scarcely hold the bunch she had gathered; and she buried her lovely face in
them, and then lifted it, with a charming look of delight, and the cries of
“Oh, oh, how delicious!”

Long before supper was over, Madam Morgan had discovered that this night
Elder Van
Heemskirk
had a special reason for his
call. His talk of
Mennon
and the Anabaptists and the
objectionable Lutherans, she perceived, was all surface talk; and when the meal
was finished, and the girls gone to their room, she was not astonished to hear
him say, let us light another pipe. I have something to speak. Sit still, good
wife, we shall want your word on the matter.”

“On what matter, Elder?”

“A marriage between my son Sir Edward and your daughter Charlotte.”

The words fell with a sharp distinctness, not unkindly, but as if they were
more than common words. They were followed by a marked silence, a silence which
in no way disturbed Van
Heemskirk
. He knew his friends
well, and therefore he expected it. He puffed his pipe slowly, and glanced at
Joris
and
Lysbet
Morgan. The
father's face had not moved a muscle; the mother's was like a handsome closed
book. She went on with her knitting, and only showed that she had heard the
proposal by a small pretense of finding it necessary to count the stitches in
the heel she was turning. Still, there had been some faint, evanescent flicker
on her face, some droop or lift of the eyelids, which
Joris
understood; for, after a glance at her, he said slowly, “For Charlotte the
marriage would be good, and
Lysbet
and I would like
it. However, we will think a little about it; there is time, and to spare. One
should not run on a new road. The first step is what I like to be sure of; as you
know,
Elder
, to the second step it often binds
you.—Say what you think,
Lysbet
.”