Ishmael, or In The Depths - Page 60/567

"I should have told her!" interrupted Hannah vehemently. "I should not

have borne her evil charges for one moment in silence! I should have

soon let her know who and what I was! I should have taken possession of

my rightful place then and there! I should have rung a bell and sent for

Mr. Herman Brudenell and had it out with the old lady once for all!"

"Hannah, I could not! my tongue was tied by my promise, and besides--"

"It was not tied!" again dashed in the elder sister, whose unusual

vehemence of mood seemed to require her to do all the talking herself.

"Herman Brudenell--he is a generous fellow with all his

faults!--released both you and myself from our promise, and told us at

any time when we should feel that the marriage ought not any longer to

be kept secret it might be divulged. You should have told her!"

"What! and raised a storm there between mother and son when both those

high spirits would have become so inflamed that they would have said

things to each other that neither could ever forgive? What! cause a

rupture between them that never could be closed? No, indeed, Hannah!

Burned and shriveled up as I was with shame in the glare of that lady's

scornful look, I would not save myself at such a cost to him and--to

her. For though you mayn't believe me, Hannah, I love that lady! I do in

spite of her scorn! She is my husband's mother; I love her as I should

have loved my own. And, oh, while she was scorching me up with her

scornful looks and words, how I did long to show her that I was not the

unworthy creature she deemed me, but a poor, honest, loving girl, who

adored both her and her son, and who would, for the love I bore them--"

"Die, if necessary, I suppose! That is just about what foolish lovers

promise to do for each other," said the elder sister, impatiently.

"Well, I would, Hannah; though that is not what I meant to say; I meant

that for the love I bore them I would so strive to improve in every

respect that I should at last lift myself to their level and be worthy

of them!"

"Humph! and you can rest under this ban of reproach!"

"No, not rest, Hannah! no one can rest in fire! and reproach is fire to

me! but I can bear it, knowing it to be undeserved! For, Hannah, even

when I stood shriveling in the blaze of that lady's presence, the

feeling of innocence, deep in my heart, kept me from death! for I think,

Hannah, if I had deserved her reproaches I should have dropped,

blackened, at her feet! Dear sister, I am very sorry I told you anything

about it. Only I have never kept anything from you, and so the force of

habit and my own swelling heart that overflowed with trouble made me do

it. Be patient now, Hannah! Say nothing to my dear husband of this. In

two days the lady and her daughters will be in Washington. Herman will

take us home, acknowledge me and write to his mother. There will then be

no outbreak; both will command their tempers better when they are apart!

And there will be nothing said or done that need make an irreparable

breach between the mother and son, or between her and myself. Promise

me, Hannah, that you will say nothing to Herman about it to-morrow!"