The Clever Woman of the Family - Page 267/364

Eagerly she desired that he should be admitted, tremulously she awaited

his sentence upon her mother's peace, and, as she thought of all he must

have heard, all he must believe, she felt as if she must flee; or, if

that were impossible, cower in shrinking dread of the glance of his

satirical eye!

Here he was, and she could not look or speak, nor did he; she only felt

that his clasp of greeting was kind, was anxious, and he put forward the

easy-chair, into which she sank, unable to stand. He said, "I saw your

mother and sister going into the town. I thought you would like to hear

of this business at once."

"Oh yes, thank you."

"I could not see the man till the day before yesterday," he said, "and I

could get nothing satisfactory from him. He said he had taken the papers

to a legal friend, but was not authorized to give his name. Perhaps his

views may be changed by his present condition. I will try him again if

you like."

"Thank you, thank you! Do you think this is true!"

"He is too cunning a scoundrel to tell unnecessary lies, and very likely

he may have disposed of them to some Jew attorney; but I think nothing

is to be feared but some annoyance."

"And annoyance to my mother is the one thing I most fear," sighed

Rachel, helplessly.

"There might be a mode of much lessening it to her," he said.

"Oh, what? Tell me, and I would do it at any cost."

"Will you?" and he came nearer. "At the cost of yourself?"

She thrilled all over, and convulsively grasped the arm of her chair.

"Would not a son be the best person to shield her from annoyance," he

added, trying for his usual tone, but failing, he exclaimed, "Rachel,

Rachel, let me!"

She put her hands over her face, and cried, "Oh! oh! I never thought of

this."

"No," he said, "and I know what you do think of it, but indeed you need

not be wasted. Our women and children want so much done for them, and

none of our ladies are able or willing. Will you not come and help me?"

"Don't talk to me of helping! I do nothing but spoil and ruin."

"Not now! That is all gone and past. Come and begin afresh."

"No, no, I am too disagreeable."

"May not I judge for myself?" he said, drawing nearer, and his voice

falling into tremulous tenderness.

"Headstrong--overbearing."

"Try," and his smile overbore her.

"Oh no, no, nobody can bear me! This is more than you--you ought to

do--than any one should," she faltered, not knowing what she said.

"Than any one to whom you were not most dear!" was the answer, and he

was now standing over her, with the dew upon his eyelashes.