Alice Wilde: The Raftsman's Daughter. A Forest Romance

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by Metta Victoria Fuller Victor


  CHAPTER III.

  REJECTED ADDRESSES.

  Through the spacious lengths of a suite of richly-furnished rooms,a woman was wandering, with that air of nervous restlessness whichbetokens a mind ill at ease. The light, stealing in soft tints throughthe curtains, fell upon many pictures and objects of taste and art,and all that lavish richness of plenishing to which wealthy Gothamitesare prone--but upon nothing so beautiful as the mistress of them all,who now moved from place to place, lifting a costly toy here, pausingbefore a picture there, but really interested in neither.

  "Virginia!"

  Her cousin Philip had come in through the library so silently that shewas unaware of his presence until he spoke, although it was waiting forhim which had made her so uneasy.

  "Well, Philip?"

  She had started when he spoke her name, but recovered her haughtyself-possession immediately.

  "Sit down, please, on this sofa. I can not talk to you when you arestanding. You look too cold and too imperious. I have come to-day foryour answer, Virginia."

  They sat upon the sofa together, he turning so as to read her face,which was bent down as she played with the diamond ring upon herfinger. She looked cool and quiet enough to dampen the ardor of herlover; but he was so absorbed in his own feelings that he could not andwould not understand it.

  "Speak, Virginia! I can not bear this suspense."

  Still she hesitated; she _liked_ him too well to take any pleasure ingiving him pain, frivolous coquette though she was.

  "I have questioned my heart closely, Philip, as you bade me," she beganafter a few moments, "and I have satisfied myself that I can never behappy as the wife of a poor man."

  "Then you do not love me! Love does not put itself in the scales anddemand to be balanced with gold."

  "But gold is very necessary to its welfare and long life. No, Philip, Ido not know that I love you--perhaps I do not--since I am not willingto make this sacrifice. I certainly think better of you than of anyother living man, except my father; I would rather marry you than anyother man, if you had the wealth necessary to support me in the stationfor which only I am fitted. A young man, with nothing to rely upon butthe profession of the law, in a great city like this, must expect towait some time before he can pour many honors and much wealth into thelap of the woman he loves."

  "You are sarcastic, Virginia!"

  "No, only practical. My father is not so rich as in days gone by. Hisfortune has dwindled until it is barely sufficient to keep up the housein the old style. If I would still preserve the family pride, stillrule queen of the circle I have brought around me, I must marry rich."

  "And for this you can resign a love like mine."

  "It is my nature, Philip--born in me, cherished in me. My father, Iknow, would not listen to the match, as highly as he esteems you. I hada sister, a woman when I was a child--you remember her, do you not?she married against his will, married poor, and tried this 'love in acottage' sentiment--he never forgave her, and she never prospered; sheis dead, poor thing, and I do not care to emulate her."

  "Humph! I am to understand that your father then rears his children asslaves to be sold to the highest bidder--that you hold yourself readyfor the market?"

  "Don't provoke me, Philip." The black eyes were fixed upon himhaughtily.

  "Forgive me, Virginia. I am half-mad just now, you know. You can notsay that you have not encouraged me."

  "Perhaps I have--shown you the affection of a cousin. I have feltas if you were one of the family. I might even have felt a stillcloser interest, had I allowed myself. But I am, what you never willbe--prudent. I may yet see some one whom I can really respect and love,who has also the fortune you lack; if not, I shall accept some onefor glory's sake, and let the love go! Don't look so scornful, Phil.I have beauty, fashion, pride of place, family, every thing but themeans wherewith to set these off magnificently; and this has made meambitious. Dear Philip, much as I like you, I could never be contentedto wait your slow promotion."

  "Prudence is very commendable, Virginia. Its maxims fall with doubleforce from lips as beautiful as yours. I will try to learn it. I, aman, upon whom such cold duties are supposed most naturally to devolve,will be taught by you, a soft, tender woman, who looks as if made forthe better purpose of loving and teaching love. Farewell! when you seeme again, perhaps I shall rival you in prudence."

  "You are not going away, cousin Philip?" He was already opening thedoor into the hall, as she followed him, and caught his hand.

  "Oh, yes, I am. Since only rich men can possess the happiness suchgentle creatures have it in their power to bestow, I must make hasteafter wealth," and he looked down bitterly at the proud girl over whoseface was coming a faint expression of remorse and relenting.

  "Shall I not hear from you?" she asked, quite humbly.

  "No; not until I am in a fair way to achieve that which will recommendme to your _disinterested affection_!"

  He withdrew his hand from her clasp, and went out with a quick,resounding step which told of the firmness of his resolution. The girlwho had rejected him sank down in the nearest seat. She had neverseen him look more--as a woman is proud to have a man look--handsome,self-reliant, determined, than in the hour of his disappointment. Twoor three tears trickled through her jeweled fingers; she shook them offimpatiently.

  "He is a man who would never have shamed my choice," she whispered."But I have decided for the best. I know my own disposition; I shouldfret at the chains which limited my power. And I am used to everyindulgence. I am selfish. Poor Phil! if somebody would present you witha check for half-a-million, I'd marry you to-morrow."

  In the mean time Philip Moore, all the dregs stirred up from the bottomof the fountain in his usually transparent soul, hurried to the officewhich he had just set up in Wall-street. There, as if in answer tothe wish which had been aroused, he found a letter from a friend whohad emigrated westward three years previously, forsaking the law forspeculations in pine-lands and lumber, merchandise, etc. He was doingwell, was getting rich in seven-league strides, had married a prettywestern girl, was happy, had gone to housekeeping, wanted a partner inbusiness as well as domestic affairs--recommended Philip to accept thechance--a few thousand dollars would be all the capital required.

  Philip had seven thousand dollars in stocks; he sold out, shook off thedust from his feet as he left the great metropolis, and answered hisfriend's letter in person, in less than a fortnight.

  Virginia Moore missed the convenient escort, the constant attentions,_and_ the profound worship of her high-hearted cousin; but a richSpaniard, ugly and old, was come into the market, and she was amongthe bidders. Let us leave Virginia Moore, and return to that westernwilderness, where a certain little girl looks lovelier, in herblue-gingham dress and wild-flower wreath, than the other in all thefamily diamonds.

 

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