She bowed and returned home, with an almost intolerable weight on
her heart. She sat with her face buried in her hands, collecting her
thoughts, and, when summoned to meet Eugene, went down with a firm
heart, but trembling frame. It was more than probable that she would
be misconstrued and wounded, but she determined to hazard all,
knowing how pure were the motives that actuated her. He seemed
restless and ill at ease, yet curious withal, and, after some
trifling commonplace remarks, Beulah seated herself on the sofa
beside him, and said: "Eugene, why have you shunned me so pertinaciously since your return
from Europe?"
"I have not shunned you, Beulah; you are mistaken. I have been
engaged, and therefore could visit but little."
"Do not imagine that any such excuses blind me to the truth," said
she, with an impatient gesture.
"What do you mean?" he answered, unable to bear the earnest,
troubled look of the searching eyes.
"Oh, Eugene! be honest--be honest! Say at once you shunned me lest I
should mark your altered habits in your altered face. But I know it
all, notwithstanding. It is no secret that Eugene Graham has more
than once lent his presence to midnight carousals over the wine-cup.
Once you were an example of temperance and rectitude, but vice is
fashionable and patronized in this city, and your associates soon
dragged you down from your proud height to their degraded level. The
circle in which you move were not shocked at your fall. Ladies
accustomed to hear of drunken revels ceased to attach disgrace to
them, and you were welcomed and smiled upon, as though you were all
a man should be. Oh, Eugene! I understand why you have carefully
shunned one who has an unconquerable horror of that degradation into
which you have fallen. I am your friend, your best and most
disinterested friend. What do your fashionable acquaintances care
that your moral character is impugned and your fair name tarnished?
Your dissipation keeps their brothers and lovers in countenance;
your once noble, unsullied nature would shame their depravity. Do
you remember one bright, moonlight night, about six years ago, when
we sat in Mrs. Williams' room at the asylum and talked of our
future? Then, with a soul full of pure aspirations, you said:
'Beulah, I have written "Excelsior" on my banner, and I intend, like
that noble youth, to press forward over every obstacle, mounting at
every step, until I too stand on the highest pinnacle and plant my
banner where its glorious motto shall float over the world!'
'Excelsior!' Ah, my brother, that banner trails in the dust! Alpine
heights tower far behind you, dim in the distance, and now with
another motto--'Lower still'--you are rushing down to an awful gulf.
Oh, Eugene! do you intend to go on to utter ruin? Do you intend to
wreck happiness, health, and character in the sea of reckless
dissipation? Do you intend to spend your days in disgusting
intoxication? I would you had a mother, whose prayers might save
you, or a father, whose gray hairs you dared not dishonor, or a
sister to win you back from ruin. Oh, that you and I had never,
never left the sheltering walls of the asylum!"