Beulah - Page 88/348

He mounted the steps, opened the door, and entered. Beulah was

standing by the window. She had recognized his step, and knew that

he was in the room, but felt as if she would not meet his eye for

the universe. Yet there was in her heart an intense longing to see

him again. During the two past days she had missed his kind manner

and grave watchfulness, and now, if she had dared to yield to the

impulse that prompted, she would have sprung to meet him and caught

his hand to her lips. He approached, and stood looking at the

drooped face; then his soft, cool touch was on her head, and he said

in his peculiar low, musical tones: "Proud little spirit, come home and be happy."

She shook her head, saying resolutely: "I cannot; I have no home. I could not be happy in your house."

"You can be in future. Beulah, I know the whole truth of this

matter. How I discovered it is no concern of yours--you have not

broken your promise. Now, mark me; I make your return to my house

the condition of my sister's pardon. I am not trifling! If you

persist in leaving me, I tell you solemnly I will send her and

Pauline out into the world to work for their daily bread, as you

want to do! If you will come back, I will give them a comfortable

home of their own wherever they may prefer to live, and see that

they are always well cared for. But they shall not remain in my

house whether you come or not. I am in earnest! Look at me; you know

I never say what I do not mean. I want you to come back; I ask you

to come with me now. I am lonely; my home is dark and desolate.

Come, my child; come!" He held her hands in his, and drew her gently

toward him. She looked eagerly into his face, and, as she noted the

stern sadness that marred its noble beauty, the words of his sister

flashed upon her memory: He had been married! Was it the loss of his

wife that had so darkened his elegant home?--that gave such

austerity to the comparatively youthful face? She gazed into the

deep eyes till she grew dizzy, and answered indistinctly: "I have no claim on you--will not be the means of parting you and

your sister. You have Pauline; make her your child."

"Henceforth my sister and myself are parted, whether you will it or

not, whether you come back or otherwise. Once for all, if you would

serve her, come, for on this condition only will I provide for her.

Pauline does not suit me; you do. I can make you a friend, in some

sort a companion. Beulah, you want to come to me; I see it in your

eyes; but I see too that you want conditions. What are they?"