Beulah - Page 294/348

"'Look not mournfully on the past--it comes not back;

Enjoy the present--it is thine.

Go forth to meet the shadowy future

With a manly heart, and without fear.'"

"You know little of what oppresses me. It is the knowledge of my--of

Antoinette's indifference which makes the future so joyless, so

desolate. Beulah, this has caused my ruin. When I stood by

Cornelia's coffin, and recalled her last frantic appeal; when I

looked down at her cold face, and remembered her devoted love for

her unworthy brother, I vowed never to touch wine again; to absent

myself from the associates who had led me to dissipation. Beulah, I

was honest, and intended to reform from that hour. But Antoinette's

avowed coldness, or, to call it by its proper name, heartless

selfishness and fondness for admiration, first disgusted and then

maddened me. I would have gladly spent my evenings quietly, in our

elegant home; but she contrived to have it crowded with visitors as

soulless and frivolous as herself. I remonstrated; she was sneering,

defiant, and unyielding, and assured me she would 'amuse' herself as

she thought proper; I followed her example, and went back to the

reckless companions who continually beset my path. I was miserably

deceived in Antoinette's character. She was very beautiful, and I

was blind to her mental, nay, I may as well say it at once, her

moral, defects. I believed she was warmly attached to me, and I

loved her most devotedly. But no sooner were we married than I

discovered my blind rashness. Cornelia warned me; but what man,

fascinated by a beautiful girl, ever listened to counsels that

opposed his heart? Antoinette is too intensely selfish to love

anything or anybody but herself; she does not even love her child.

Strange as it may seem, she is too entirely engrossed by her weak

fondness for display and admiration even to caress her babe. Except

at breakfast and dinner we rarely meet, and then, unless company is

present (which is generally the case), our intercourse is studiedly

cold. Do you wonder that I am hopeless in view of a life passed with

such a companion? Oh, that I could blot out the last two years of my

existence!"

He groaned, and shaded his face with his hands.

"But, Eugene, probably your reformation and altered course will win

you your wife's love and reverence," suggested Beulah, anxious to

offer some incentive to exertion.

"I know her nature too well to hope that. A woman who prefers to

dance and ride with gentlemen rather than remain in her luxurious

home with her babe and her duties, cannot be won from her moth-like

life. No, no! I despair of happiness from her society and affection,

and, if at all, must derive it from other sources. My child is the

one living blossom amidst all my withered hopes. She is the only

treasure I have, except your friendship. She shall never blush for

her father's degradation. Henceforth, though an unhappy man, I shall

prove myself a temperate one. I cannot trust my child's education to

Antoinette; she is unworthy the sacred charge; I must fit myself to

form her character. Oh, Beulah, if I could make her such a woman as

you are, then I could indeed bear my lot patiently! I named her

Cornelia, but henceforth she shall be called Beulah also, in token

of her father's gratitude to his truest friend."