Beulah - Page 126/348

"It must be a delightful anticipation for you."

"Why so, pray?"

"Why? Because you and Euguene are such old friends."

"Oh, yes; as far as Eugene is concerned, of course it is a very

pleasant anticipation."

"He is identified with the Grahams."

"Not necessarily," answered Beulah coldly.

A sad smile flitted over Clara's sweet face as she rose and kissed

her friend's brow, saying gently: "Good-night, dear. I have a headache, and must try to sleep it off.

Since you have determined to battle with difficulties I am very glad

to have you here with me. I earnestly hope that success may crown

your efforts and the sunshine of happiness dispel for you the

shadows that have fallen thick about my pathway. You have been rash,

Beulah, and short-sighted; but I trust that all will prove for the

best. Good-night."

She glided away, and, locking the door, Beulah returned to her seat

and laid her head wearily down on the window-sill. What a Hermes is

thought! Like a vanishing dream fled the consciousness of

surrounding objects, and she was with Eugene. Now, in the earlier

years of his absence, she was in Heidelberg, listening to the

evening chimes, and rambling with him through the heart of the

Odenwald. Then they explored the Hartz, climbed the Brocken, and

there, among the clouds, discussed the adventures of Faust and his

kinsman, Manfred. Anon, the arrival of the Grahams disturbed the

quiet of Eugene's life, and, far away from the picturesque haunts of

Heidelberg students, he wandered with them over Italy, Switzerland,

and France. Engrossed by these companions, he no longer found time

to commune with her, and when occasionally he penned a short letter

it was hurried, constrained, and unsatisfactory. One topic had

become stereotyped; he never failed to discourage the idea of

teaching; urged most earnestly the folly of such a step, and dwelt

upon the numerous advantages of social position arising from a

residence under her guardian's roof. We have seen that from the hour

of Lilly's departure from the asylum Beulah's affections, hopes,

pride, all centered in Eugene. There had long existed a tacit

compact which led her to consider her future indissolubly linked

with his; and his parting words seemed to seal this compact as holy

and binding, when he declared, "I mean, of course, to take care of

you myself, when I come home, for you know you belong to me." His

letters for many months retained the tone of dictatorship, but the

tenderness seemed all to have melted away. He wrote as if with a

heart preoccupied by weightier matters, and now Beulah could no

longer conceal from herself the painful fact that the man was far

different from the boy. After five years' absence he was coming back

a man; engrossed by other thoughts and feelings than those which had

prompted him in days gone by. With the tenacious hope of youth she

still trusted that she might have misjudged him; he could never be

other than noble and generous; she would silence her forebodings and

wait till his return. She wished beyond all expression to see him

once more, and the prospect of a speedy reunion often made her heart

throb painfully. That he would reproach her for her obstinate

resolution of teaching, she was prepared to expect; but, strong in

the consciousness of duty, she committed herself to the care of a

merciful God, and soon slept as soundly as though under Dr.

Hartwell's roof.