CHAPTER XXIV.
MAY AND DECEMBER.
"She looked to the river--looked to the hill-- And thought on the spirit's prophecy; Then broke the silence stern and still: 'Not you, but Fate, has vanquished me.'" LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.
"Celeste, Celeste! do not leave me. Oh! all the world has left me, andwill you go, too? This heart--this restless, beating heart--will itnever stop aching? Oh, Celeste! once I thought I had no heart; but bythis dull, aching pain where it should be, I know I must have had onesome time. Stay with me, Celeste. You are the only one in the world leftfor me to love now."
Gipsy--small, fair and fragile, with her little wan face and unnaturallylustrous eyes--lay moaning restlessly on her low couch, like sometempest-tossed soul quivering between life and death. Like an angel oflight, by her side knelt Celeste, with her fair, pitying face and hersoft blue eyes, from which the tears fell on the small brown fingersthat tightly clasped hers.
"Dear Gipsy, I will not leave you; but you know you must get up anddress soon."
"Oh, yes; but not yet. It is so nice to lie here, and have you besideme. I am so tired, Celeste--I have never rested since I made thatpromise. It seems as if ever since I had been walking and walking onthrough the dark, unable to stop, with such an aching here."
And she pressed her hand to the poor quivering heart that wasfluttering to escape from the heavy chain fate was drawing tighter andtighter around it.
"What can I do for you, Gipsy?" said Celeste, stooping and kissing herpale lips, while two pitying drops fell from her eyes on the poor littleface below her.
"Don't cry for me, Celeste. I never wept for myself yet. Sing for me,dear friend, the 'Evening Hymn' we used to sing at the Sisters' school,long ago."
Forcing back her tears, Celeste sang, in a voice low and sweet as liquidmusic:
"Ave sanctissima! We lift our souls to thee-- Ora pro nobis, Bright star of the sea! Watch us while shadows lie Far o'er the waters spread; Hear the heart's lonely sigh-- Thine, too, hath bled!"
Gipsy listened, with her eyes closed, an expression of peace and restfalling on her dark, restless face, until Celeste ceased.
"Oh, Celeste, I always feel so much better and happier when you are withme--not half so much of a heartless imp as at other times," said Gipsy,opening her eyes. "I wish I could go and live with you and Miss Hagar atValley Cottage, or enter a convent, or anywhere, to be at peace. Whileyou sang I almost fancied myself back again at school, listening tothose dear, kind sisters singing that beautiful 'Evening Hymn.'"
She paused, and murmured, dreamily:
"Watch us while shadows lie Far o'er the waters spread; Hear the heart's lonely sigh-- Thine, too, hath bled!"
"Dear Gipsy, do not be so sad. Our Heavenly Father, perhaps, has butsent you this trial to purify your heart and make it His own. In thetime of youth and happiness we are apt ungratefully to forget the Authorof all good gifts, and yield the heart that should be His to idols ofclay. But in the days of sorrow and suffering we stretch out our arms toHim; and He, forgetting the past, takes us to his bosom. And, dearestGipsy, shall we shrink from treading through trials and sufferings inthe steps of the sinless Son of God, to that home of rest and peace thatHe died to gain for us?"
Her beautiful face was transfigured, her eyes radiant, her lips glowingwith the fervor of the deep devotion with which she spoke.
"I cannot feel as you do, Celeste," said Gipsy, turning restlessly. "Ifeel like one without a light, groping my way in the dark--like one whois blind, hastening to my own doom. I cannot look up; I can see into thedark grave, but no farther."
"Light will come yet, dear friend. Every cloud has its silver lining."
"Never for me. But, hark! What is that?"
Celeste arose, and went to the window.
"It is the carriages bringing more people. The parlors below are full.You must rise, and dress for your bridal, Gipsy."
"Would to heaven it were for my burial! I am _so_ tired, Celeste. _Must_I get up?"
"Yes, dear Gipsy; they are waiting for you. I will dress you myself,"said Celeste, as Gipsy, pale, wan, and spirituelle, arose from hercouch, her little, slight figure smaller and slighter than ever.
Rapidly moved the nimble fingers of Celeste. The dancing dark locks fellin short, shining curls around the superb little head, making the paleface of the bride look paler still by contrast. Then Celeste went intoher wardrobe and brought forth the jewels, the white vail, the orangeblossoms, and the rich robes of white brocade, frosted with seed pearls,and laid them on the bed.
"What is that white dress for?" demanded Gipsy, abruptly, looking upfrom a reverie into which she had fallen.
"For you to wear, of course," replied Celeste, astonished at thequestion.
"A white dress for me! Ha! ha! ha!" she said, with a wild laugh. "True,I forgot--when the ancients were about to sacrifice a victim, they robedher in white and crowned her with flowers. But I will differ from allother victims, and wear a more suitable color. _This_ shall be mywedding-dress," said Gipsy, leaving the room, and returning with a dressof _black_ lace.
Celeste shrank back from its ominous hue with something like a shudder.
"Oh, not in black! Oh, Gipsy! any other color but black for yourwedding. Think how you will shock every one," said Celeste, imploringly.
"Shock them! Why, Celeste, I've shocked them so continually ever since Iwas a year old, that when I cease to shock them they won't know GipsyGower. And that reminds me that after to-day I will be 'Mad Gipsy Gower'no longer, but Mrs. Doctor Nicholas Wiseman. Ha! ha! ha! Wiseman! howappropriate the name will be! Oh! _won't_ I lead him a life--_won't_ Imake him wish he had never been born--_won't_ I teach him what it is todrive a girl to desperation? He thinks because I am a little thing hecan hold me up with one hand--and, by the way, Celeste, his hands alwaysremind me of a lobster's claw stuck into a pump-handle--that he can dowhat he pleases with me. We'll see! Hook my dress, Celeste. It's a pityto keep my Adonis waiting, and disappoint all these good people whohave come to see the fun."
"Dear Gipsy, do not look and talk so wildly. And pray, take off thatblack dress, and wear any other color you wish. People _will_ talk so,you know."
"Let 'em talk then, my dear. They'll only say it's one of Gipsy's whims.Besides, it will shock Spider, which is just what I want. He'll get afew more shocks before I have done with him, I rather think. Hook mydress, Celeste."
With a sigh at the elf's perversity, Celeste obeyed; and with a sadface, watched the eccentric little bride shake out the folds of herblack robe, and fasten a dark crimson belt around her waist.
"Now, if I had a few poppies or marigolds to fasten in my hair, I'd lookbewitching; as I haven't, these must do." And with a high, ringinglaugh, she twined a dark, purplish passion-flower amid her shiningcurls. "Now for my rouge. I must look blooming, you know--happy bridesalways should. Then it will save me the trouble of blushing, which issomething I never was guilty of in my life. No, never mind those pearls,Celeste; I fear Dr. Wiseman might find them brighter than my eye, whichwould not do by 'no manner of means.' There! I'm ready. Who ever saw sobewildering a bride?"
She turned from the mirror, and stood before Celeste, her eyes shininglike stars, streaming with an unnaturally blazing light, the pallor ofher face hidden by the rouge, the dark passion-flower drooping amid hercurls, fit emblem of herself. There was an airy, floating lightnessabout her, as if she scarcely felt the ground she walked on--a fire andwildness in her large, dark eyes that made Celeste's heart ache for her.Very beautiful she looked, with her dark, oriental face, shaded by itssable locks, the rich, dark dress falling with classic elegance fromher round, little waist. She looked, as she stood, bright, mocking,defiant, scornful--more like some fairy changeling--some fay of themoonlight--than a living creature, with a woman's heart. And yet, underthat daring, bright exterior, a wild, anguished heart lay crushed andquivering, shedding tears of blood, that leape
d to the eyes to bechanged to sparks of fire.
"Let us go down," said Celeste, with a sigh.
"Yes, let us go. Do you know, Celeste, I read once of a man whom theIndians were going to burn to death at the stake, and who began cursingthem when they led him there for making him wait so long. Now I feeljust like that man; since I _am_ to be doomed to the stake--why, thesooner the torture is over the better."
She looked so beautiful, so bewitching, yet so mocking and unreal, solike a spirit of air, as she spoke, that, almost expecting to see hervanish from her sight, Celeste caught her in her arms, and gazed uponher with pitying, yearning, love-lit eyes, from which the tears werefast falling.
"Don't cry for me, Celeste; you make me feel more like an imp than ever.I really think I must be a family relation of the goblin page we readabout in the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel,' for I feel like doing as hedid, throwing up my arms, and crying, 'Lost!' I'm sure that goblin pagewould have made his fortune in a circus, since his ordinary mode ofwalking consisted of leaps of fifty feet high or so. Crying still,Celeste! Why, I thought I'd make you laugh. Now, Celeste, if you don'tdry your eyes, I'll go right up to where Aunty Gower keeps prussic acidfor the rats, and commit suicide right off the reel. I've felt likedoing it all the time lately, but never so much so as when I see youcrying for me. Why, Celeste, I never was worth one tear from those blueeyes, body and bones. What's the use of anybody's grieving for alittle, mad, hare-brained thing like me? _I'll_ do well enough; I'll beperfectly happy--see if I don't! It will be such glorious fun, you know,driving Spider mad! And, oh, _won't_ I dose him! Tra! la, la, la, la,la!" and Gipsy waltzed airily around the room.
At this moment there came a knock at the door. Celeste opened it, andMrs. Gower, in the well-preserved silk and lace cap she had worn yearsbefore to Lizzie Oranmore's wedding, stood in the doorway.
"Oh, Celeste! why don't you hurry? Where is Gipsy? Oh, good gracious,child! not dressed yet? What on earth have you been doing? The peoplehave been waiting these two hours, almost, in the parlors! Do hurry, formercy sake, and dress!"
"Why, aunty, I _am_ dressed. Don't you see I am all ready to become Mrs.Wiseman?"
"But my _dear_ child, that black dress----"
"This black dress will do very well--suits my complexion best, which israther of the mulatto order than otherwise; and it's a pity if a blessedbride can't wear what she likes without such a fuss being made about it.Now, aunty, don't begin to lecture--it'll only be a waste of powder anda loss of time; and I'm impatient to arrive at the place of execution."
Mrs. Gower sank horrified into a chair, and gazed with a look of despairinto the mocking, defiant eyes of the elfin bride.
"Oh, Gipsy! what ever will the people say? In a _black dress_! Goodheavens! Why, you'll look more like the chief mourner at a funeral thana bride! And what will Dr. Wiseman say?"
"Oh, don't, aunty! I hope he'll get into a passion, and blow me andeverybody else up when he sees it!" cried Gipsy, clapping her hands withdelight at the idea.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! did any one ever know such a strange girl? Just tothink of throwing aside that beautiful dress that your guardian paid asmall fortune for, for that common black lace thing, the worst dress youhave!"
"Aunty--see here!--you may have this 'beautiful dress' when you getmarried. You're young, and good-looking, and substantial, too, and Ishouldn't wonder if you had a proposal one of these days. With a littleletting down in the skirt, and a little letting out in the waist----"
"Gipsy, hush! How can you go on with such nonsense at such a time? MissPearl, can you not induce her to take off that horrid black dress?"
"I think you had better let her wear it, madam. Miss Gower will not bepersuaded."
"Well, since it must be so, then come. Luckily, everybody knows what anodd, flighty thing Gipsy is, and therefore will not be so muchsurprised."
"I should think the world would not be surprised at anything I would dosince I have consented to marry that hideous orang-outang, that mockeryof man, that death's-head, that 'thing of legs and arms,' that----"
"Hush! hush! you little termagant! What a way to speak of the man youare going to promise to 'love, honor, and obey,'" said the profoundlyshocked Mrs. Gower.
"_Love, honor, and obey!_ Ha, ha, ha! Oh, won't I though, with avengeance! Won't I be a pattern wife! You'll see!"
"What do you mean, child?"
"Nothing, aunty," said Gipsy, with a strange smile, "merely making ameditation. Here we are at the stake at last, and there I perceiveReverend Mr. Goodenough ready to act the part of executioner; and there,too, is Dr. Wiseman, the victim--who, as he will by and by find out, isgoing to prove himself most decidedly a silly man to-day. Now, GipsyGower, you are going to create a sensation, my dear, though you arepretty well accustomed to that sort of thing."
They had reached the hall by this time, where Dr. Wiseman, SquireErliston, and a number of others stood. All stared aghast at the sablerobes of Gipsy.
"Oh? how is it? Why, what is the meaning of this?" demanded the squire,in a rage.
"Meaning of what, Guardy?"
"What do you mean, miss, by wearing that black frock?"
"And what business is it of yours, sir?"
"You impudent minx! Go right up stairs and take it off."
"I won't do anything of the kind! There now! Anybody that doesn't likeme in this can let me alone," retorted Gipsy.
A fierce imprecation was on the lips of the squire, but Dr. Wiseman laidhis hand on his arm, and said, in his oiliest tones:
"Never mind her, my dear sir; let her consult her own taste. I am aswilling my bride should wear black as anything else; she looksbewitching in anything. Come, fairest lady."
He attempted to draw her arm within his, but she sprang back, andtransfixing him with a flashing glance, she hissed:
"No; withered be my arm if it ever rests in yours! Stand aside, Dr.Wiseman; there is pollution in the very touch of your hand."
"You capricious little fairy, why do you hate me so?"
"Hate! Don't flatter yourself I hate you, Dr. Wiseman--I despise youtoo much for that," she replied, her beautiful lip curling scornfully.
"Exasperating little dare-devil that you are!" he exclaimed, growingwhite with impotent rage, "take care that I do not make you repentthis."
"You hideous old fright! do you dare to threaten now?"
"Yes, and dare to perform, too, if you do not beware. Keep a guard onyour tongue, my lady, or you know who will suffer for it."
The fierce retort that hovered on the lip of Gipsy was checked by theirentrance into the drawing-room. Such a crowd as was there, drawntogether for miles around by the news of this singular marriage. Allshrank back and looked at one another, as their eyes fell on the ominousgarments of the bride, as she walked in, proudly erect, beside her grimbridegroom.
"Beauty and the Beast!" "Vulcan and Venus!" "May and December!" were thewhispers that went round the room as they appeared.
The Rev. Mr. Goodenough approached, and the bridal party stood beforehim--the doctor glancing uneasily at his little bride, who stood withher flashing eyes riveted to the floor, her lips firmly compressed,proud, erect and haughty.
The marriage ceremony commenced, and Mr. Goodenough, turning to thedoctor, put the usual question:
"Nicholas Wiseman, wilt thou have Aurora Gower, here present, to be thywedded wife, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer, forpoorer, in sickness and health, until death doth you part?"
"Yes," was the reply, loud, clear, and distinct.
Turning to the bride the clergyman demanded;
"Aurora Gower, wilt thou have Nicholas Wiseman, here present, to be thylawful husband, to have, and to hold?" etc.
A loud, fierce, passionate "_No!_" burst from the lips of the bride. Dr.Wiseman saw her intention, and was immediately seized with a violent fitof coughing, in which her reply was drowned.
The mockery of a marriage was over, and Nicholas Wiseman and AuroraGower were solemnly pronounced
"man and wife."
A mocking smile curled the lips of the bride at the words, and sheturned to receive the congratulations of her many friends, to bear allthe hand-shaking, and hear herself addressed as "Mrs. Wiseman."
"Now, beautiful fairy, you are my own at last. You see fate had decreedit," said the doctor, with a grim smile.
"And bitterly shall you repent that decree. Do you know what I was doingwhen I stood up before the clergyman with you?"
"No, sweet wife."
"Well, then, listen. I was vowing and consecrating my whole life to onepurpose--one aim; and that is _deadly vengeance against you_ for whatyou have done. Night and day, sleeping or waking, it shall always occupymy thoughts, and I will live now only for revenge. Ha! I see I can makeyour saffron visage blanch already, Dr. Wiseman. Oh! you'll find what ahappy thing it is to be married. Since I must go down, I shall drag downwith me all who have had part or share in this, my misery. You, viper,ghoul that you are, have turned my very nature into that of a fiend. Dr.Wiseman, if I thought, by any monstrous possibility, you could ever goto heaven, I would take a dagger and send my own soul to perdition,sooner than go there with you."
There was something in her words, her tone, her face, perfectlyappalling. Her countenance was deadly white, save where the rougecolored it, and her eyes. Oh! never were such wild, burning, gleamingeyes seen in any face before. He cowered from her like the soul-struckcoward that he was; and, as with one glance of deadly concentrated hateshe glided from his side and mingled with the crowd, he wiped the coldperspiration off his brow, and realized how true were the words oftquoted:
"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,"
and began to fear that, after all, Mount Sunset was purchased at a dearprice.
Sharing Her Crime: A Novel Page 25
