Beulah - Page 151/348

It was the middle of November, and the absentees who had spent their

summer at the North were all at home again. Among these were Mrs.

Asbury and her two daughters; and only a few days after their return

they called to see Beulah. She found them polished, cultivated, and

agreeable; and when, at parting, the mother kindly pressed her hand

and cordially invited her to visit them often and sociably, she felt

irresistibly drawn toward her, and promised to do so. Ere long there

came a friendly note, requesting her to spend the evening with them;

and thus, before she had known them many weeks, Beulah found herself

established on the familiar footing of an old friend. Universally

esteemed and respected, Dr. Asbury's society was sought by the most

refined circle of the city, and his house was a favorite resort for

the intellectual men and women of the community. Occupying an

enviable position in his profession, he still found leisure to

devote much of his attention to strictly literary topics, and the

honest frankness and cordiality of his manners, blended with the

instructive tone of his conversation, rendered him a general

favorite. Mrs. Asbury merited the elevated position which she so

ably filled as the wife of such a man. While due attention was given

to the education and rearing of her daughters, she admirably

discharged the claims of society, and, by a consistent adherence to

the principles of the religion she professed, checked by every means

within her power the frivolous excesses and dangerous extremes which

prevailed throughout the fashionable circles in which she moved.

Zealously, yet unostentatiously, she exerted herself in behalf of

the various charitable institutions organized to ameliorate the

sufferings of the poor in their midst; and while as a Christian she

conformed to the outward observances of her church, she faithfully

inculcated and practiced at home the pure precepts of a religion

whose effects should be the proper regulation of the heart and

charity toward the world. Her parlors were not the favorite

rendezvous where gossips met to retail slander. Refined, dignified,

gentle, and hospitable, she was a woman too rarely, alas! met with,

in so-called fashionable circles. Her husband's reputation secured

them the acquaintance of all distinguished strangers, and made their

house a great center of attraction. Beulah fully enjoyed and

appreciated the friendship thus tendered her, and soon looked upon

Dr. Asbury and his noble wife as counselors to whom in any emergency

she could unhesitatingly apply. They based their position in society

on their own worth, not the extrinsic appendages of wealth and

fashion, and readily acknowledged the claims of all who (however

humble their abode or avocation) proved themselves worthy of respect

and esteem. In their intercourse with the young teacher there was an

utter absence of that contemptible supercilious condescension which

always characterizes an ignorant and parvenu aristocracy. They

treated her as an equal in intrinsic worth, and prized her as a

friend. Helen Asbury was older than Beulah and Georgia somewhat

younger. They were sweet-tempered, gay girls, lacking their parent's

intellectual traits, but sufficiently well-informed and cultivated

to constitute them agreeable companions. Of their father's extensive

library they expressed themselves rather afraid, and frequently

bantered Beulah about the grave books she often selected from it.

Beulah found her school duties far less irksome than she had

expected, for she loved children, and soon became interested in the

individual members of her classes. From eight o'clock until three

she was closely occupied; then the labors of the day were over, and

she spent her evenings much as she had been wont ere the opening of

the session. Thus November glided quickly away, and the first of

December greeted her ere she dreamed of its approach. The Grahams

had not returned, though daily expected; and, notwithstanding two

months had elapsed without Eugene's writing, she looked forward with

intense pleasure to his expected arrival. There was one source of

constant pain for her in Dr. Hartwell's continued and complete

estrangement. Except a cold, formal bow in passing there was no

intercourse whatever; and she sorrowed bitterly over this seeming

indifference in one to whom she owed so much and was so warmly

attached. Remotely connected with this cause of disquiet was the

painful change in Clara. Like a lily suddenly transplanted to some

arid spot, she had seemed to droop since the week of her ride.

Gentle, but hopeless and depressed, she went, day after day, to her

duties at Madam St. Cymon's school, and returned at night wearied,

silent, and wan. Her step grew more feeble, her face thinner and

paler. Often Beulah gave up her music and books, and devoted the

evenings to entertaining and interesting her; but there was a

constraint and reserve about her which could not be removed.