Beulah - Page 196/348

"I do, in the sense of great superiority."

"The world is not so flattering in its estimate."

"No; for slander loves a lofty mark."

"Beulah Benton, do you mean that for me?"

"Not unless you feel that it applies to you particularly."

"If he is so faultless and unequaled, pray, why did not you remain

in his house?"

"I am not in the habit of accounting to anyone for my motives or my

actions." She lifted her slender form haughtily.

"In which case the public has a habit of supplying both."

"Then accept its fabrications."

"You need not be so fierce. I like Dr. Hartwell quite as well as you

do, I dare say; but probably I know more of his history."

"It is all immaterial to me. Drop the subject, if you please, and

let me read to you. I believe I came here for quiet companionship,

not recrimination and cross-questioning."

"Beulah, the world says you are to marry your guardian. I do not ask

from impertinent curiosity, but sincere friendship--is it true?"

"About as true as your notion of my marriage with Eugene. No;

scarcely so plausible."

"Our families were connected, you know."

"No; I neither know, nor wish to know. He never alluded to his wife,

or his history, and I have just now no desire to hear anything about

the matter. He is the best friend I ever had; I want to honor and

reverence him always; and, of course, the world's version of his

domestic affairs does him injustice. So be good enough to say no

more about him."

"Very well. On hearing your voice from the parlor he left a small

parcel, which he requested me to give you. He laid it on the table,

I believe; yes, there it is. Now read 'Egmont' to me, if you

please."

Cornelia crossed the room, threw herself on a couch, and settled her

pillow comfortably. Beulah took the parcel, which was carefully

sealed, and wondered what it contained. It was heavy and felt hard.

They had parted in anger; what could it possibly be? Cornelia's

black eyes were on her countenance. She put the package in her

pocket, seated herself by the couch, and commenced "Egmont." It was

with a feeling of indescribable relief that the orphan awoke, at

dawn the following morning, and dressed by the gray twilight. She

had fallen asleep the night before amid the hum of voices, of

laughter, and of dancing feet. Sounds of gayety, from the merry

party below, had found their way to the chamber of the heiress, and

when Beulah left her at midnight she was still wakeful and restless.

The young teacher could not wait for the late breakfast of the

luxurious Grahams, and, just as the first level ray of sunshine

flashed up from the east, she tied on her bonnet and noiselessly

entered Cornelia's room. The heavy curtains kept it close and dark,

and on the hearth a taper burned with pale, sickly light. Cornelia

slept soundly; but her breathing was heavy and irregular, and the

face wore a scowl, as if some severe pain had distorted it. The

ivory-like arms were thrown up over the head, and large drops

glistened on the wan brow. Beulah stood beside the bed a few

minutes; the apartment was furnished with almost Oriental splendor;

but how all this satin, and rosewood, and silver, and marble mocked

the restless, suffering sleeper! Beulah felt tears of compassion

weighing down her lashes, as she watched the haggard countenance of

this petted child of fortune; but, unwilling to rouse her, she

silently stole down the steps. The hall was dark; the smell of gas

almost stifling. Of course, the servants followed the example of

their owners, and, as no one appeared, she unlocked the street door,

and walked homeward with a sensation of pleasurable relief which

impressed itself very legibly on her face. The sky was cloudless;

the early risen run looked over the earth in dazzling radiance; and

the cold, pure, wintry air made the blood tingle in Beulah's veins.

A great, unspeakable joy filled her soul; the uplifted eyes beamed

with gladness; her brave, hopeful spirit looked into the future with

unquestioning trust; and, as the image of her unhappy friend flitted

across her mind, she exclaimed: "This world is lull of beauty, like other worlds above, And if we

did our duty, it might be full of loe."