Beulah - Page 233/348

She wept bitterly, and, more moved than he chose to appear, Eugene

shaded his face with his fingers. Beulah placed her hand on his

shoulder, and continued falteringly: "Eugene, I am not afraid to tell you the unvarnished truth. You may

get angry, and think it is no business of mine to counsel you, who

are older and master of your own fate; but when we were children I

talked to you freely, and why should I not now? True friendship

strengthens with years, and shall I hesitate to speak to you of what

gives me so much pain? In a very few days you are to be married.

Eugene, if the wine-cup is dearer to you than your beautiful bride,

what prospect of happiness has either of you? I had hoped her

influence would deter you from it, at least during her visit here;

but if not then, how can her presence avail in future? Oh, for

Heaven's sake! for Antoinette's, for your own, quit the ranks of

ruin you are in, and come back to temperance and honor. You are

bowing down Cornelia's proud head in humiliation and sorrow. Oh,

Eugene, have mercy on yourself!"

He tried to look haughty and insulted, but it would not answer. Her

pale face, full of earnest, tearful entreaty, touched his heart, not

altogether indurated by profligate associations. He knew she had not

given an exaggerated account; he had imagined that she would not

hear of his revels; but certainly she told only the truth. Yet he

resolved not to admit the charge, and, shaking off her hand,

answered proudly: "If I am the degraded character you flatteringly pronounce me, it

should certainly render my society anything but agreeable to your

fastidious taste. I shall not soon forget your unmerited insults."

He rose as he spoke.

"You are angry now, Eugene, because I have held up your own portrait

for your inspection. You are piqued because I tell you the truth.

But when all this has subsided, and you think the matter calmly

over, you will be forced to acknowledge that only the purest

friendship could prompt me to remonstrate with you on your ruinous

career. Of course, if you choose, you can soon wreck yourself; you

are your own master; but the infatuation will recoil upon you. Your

disgrace and ruin will not affect me, save that, as your friend, I

should mourn your fall. Ah, Eugene, I have risked your displeasure--

I have proved my friendship!"

He took his hat and turned toward the door; but she placed herself

before it, and, holding out both hands, exclaimed sorrowfully: "Do not let us part in anger! I am an orphan without relatives or

protectors, and from early years you have been a kind brother. At

least, let us part as friends. I know that in future we shall be

completely alienated, but your friend Beulah will always rejoice to

hear of your welfare and happiness; and if her warning words, kindly

meant, have no effect, and she hears, with keen regret, of your

final ruin, she at least will feel that she honestly and anxiously

did all in her power to save you. Good-by. Shake hands, Eugene, and

bear with you to the altar my sincere wishes for your happiness."