Beulah - Page 227/348

"When I told you so I expected to marry Beulah; not so much because

I loved her, but because I supposed that she rather considered me

bound to her by early ties. I discovered, however, that her

happiness was not dependent on me, and therefore abandoned the

idea."

"And my peerless cousin is to be your bride, eh?"

"Yes; she has promised me her hand at an early day."

"No doubt. You don't deserve anything better. Beulah scorns you; I

see it in her eyes. Marry you! You! Oh, Eugene, she is far too

superior to you. You are blind now; but the day will surely come

when your charmer will, with her own hand, tear the veil from your

eyes, and you will curse your folly. It is of no use to tell you

that she is false, heartless, utterly unprincipled; you will not

believe it, of course, till you find out her miserable defects

yourself. I might thunder warnings in your ears from now till

doomsday, and you would not heed me. But whether I live to see it or

not, you will bitterly rue your infatuation. You will blush for the

name which, as your wife, Antoinette will disgrace. Now leave me."

She pointed to the door, and, too much incensed to reply, he quitted

the room with a suppressed oath, slamming the door behind him.

Cornelia went up to her own apartment and, without ringing for her

maid, took off the elegant dress she wore, and threw her dressing

gown round her. The diamond hairpins glowed like coals of fire in

her black braids, mocking the gray, bloodless face, and look of

wretchedness. She took out the jewels, laid them on her lap, and

suffered the locks of hair to fall upon her shoulders. Then great

hot tears rolled over her face; heavy sobs convulsed her frame, and,

bowing down her head, the haughty heiress wept passionately. Eugene

was the only being she really loved; for years her hopes and pride

had centered in him. Now down the long vista of coming time she

looked and saw him staggering on to ruin and disgrace. She knew her

own life would at best be short, and felt that now it had lost its

only interest, and she was ready to sink to her last rest rather

than witness his future career. This was the first time she had wept

since the days of early childhood; but she calmed the fearful

struggle in her heart, and, toward dawn, fell asleep, with a

repulsive sneer on her lips. The ensuing day she was forced to

listen to the complacent comments of her parents, who were well

pleased with the alliance. Antoinette was to return home

immediately, the marriage would take place in June, and they were

all to spend the summer at the North; after which it was suggested

that the young couple should reside with Mr. Graham. Cornelia was

standing apart when her mother made this proposition, and, turning

sharply toward the members of her family, the daughter exclaimed: "Never! You all know that this match is utterly odious to me. Let

Eugene have a house of his own; I have no mind to have Antoinette

longer in my home. Nay, father; it will not be for a great while.

When I am gone they can come; I rather think I shall not long be in

their way. While I do live, let me be quiet, will you?"