Macaria

by Augusta J. Evans

  CHAPTER XII

  A SACRIFICE

  Once more the labours of a twelvemonth had been exhibited at the Academy ofDesign--some to be classed among things "that were not born to die;" othersto fall into nameless graves. Mr. Clifton was represented by an exquisiteOEnone, and on the same wall, in a massive oval frame, hung the firstfinished production of his pupil. For months after Russell's departure shesat before her easel, slowly filling up the outline sketched while his eyeswatched her. Application sometimes trenches so closely upon genius as to bemistaken for it in its results, and where both are happily blended, the budof Art expands in immortal perfection. Electra spared no toil, and so itcame to pass that the faultless head of her idol excited intense anduniversal admiration. In the catalogue it was briefly mentioned as "No.17--a portrait; first effort of a young female artist." _Connoisseurs_, whohad committed themselves by extravagant praise, sneered at the announcementof the catalogue, and, after a few inquiries, blandly asserted that no tyrocould have produced it; that the master had wrought out its perfection, andgenerously allowed the pupil to monopolize the encomiums. In vain Mr.Clifton disclaimed the merit, and asserted that he had never touched thecanvas; that she had jealously refused to let him aid her. Increduloussmiles and unmistakable motions of the head were the sole results of hisexpostulation. Electra was indignant at the injustice meted out to her,and, as might have been expected, rebelled against the verdict. Some weeksafter the close of the exhibition, the OEnone was purchased and theportrait sent home. Electra placed it on the easel once more, and stoodbefore it in rapt contemplation. Coldness, silence, neglect, all wereforgotten when she looked into the deep, beautiful eyes, and upon thebroad, bold, matchless brow.

  She had not the faintest hope that he would ever cherish a tenderer feelingfor her; but love is a plant of strange growth. A curious plant, truly, andone which will not bear transplanting, as many a luckless experiment hasproved. To-day, as Electra looked upon her labours, the coils of Timeseemed to fall away; the vista of Eternity opened before her, peopled withtwo forms, which on earth walked widely separate paths, and over herfeatures stole a serene, lifted expression, as if, after painful scaling,she had risen above the cloud-region and caught the first rays of perpetualsunshine.

  Mr. Clifton had watched her for some moments with lowering brow and jealoushatred of the picture. Approaching, he looked over her shoulder, and said--

  "Electra, I must speak to you; hear me. You hug a phantom to your heart;Russell does not and will not love you, other than as his cousin."

  The blood deserted her face, leaving a greyish pallor, but the eyes soughthis steadily, and the rippling voice lost none of its rich cadence.

  "Except as his cousin, I do not expect Russell to love me."

  "Oh child! you deceive yourself; this is a hope that you cling to with madtenacity."

  She wrung her hand from his, and drew her figure to its utmost height.

  "No; you must hear me now. I have a right to question you--the right of mylong, silent, faithful love. You may deny it, but that matters little; bestill, and listen. Did you suppose that I was simply a generous man when Ioffered to guard and aid you--when I took you to my house, placed you inmy mother's care, and lavished affection upon you? If so, put away thehallucination. Consider me no longer your friend, look at me as I am, ajealous and selfishly exacting man, who stands before you to-day and tellsyou he loves you. Oh, Electra! From the morning when you first showed meyour sketches, you have been more than my life to me. Every hope I havecentred in you. I have not deceived myself; I knew that you loved Russell.When he came here, I saw that the old fascination still kept its hold uponyou, but I saw, too, what you saw quite as plainly--that in RussellAubrey's heart there is room for nothing but ambition. I knew how yousuffered, and I believed it was the death-struggle of your love. But,instead, I find you, day by day, before that easel--oblivious of me, ofeverything but the features you cling to so insanely. Do you wonder that Ihate that portrait? Do you wonder that I am growing desperate? If he lovedyou in return, I could bear it better; but as it is, I am tortured beyondall endurance. I have spent nearly three years in trying to gain yourheart; all other aims have faded before this one absorbing love. To-day Ilay it at your feet, and ask if I have not earned some reward. Oh, Electra!have you no gratitude?"

  A scarlet spot burned on his pale cheeks, and the mild liquid grey eyessparkled like stars.

  He stretched out his hand, but she drew back a step.

  "God forgive me! but I have no such love for you."

  A ghastly smile broke over his face, and, after a moment, the snowyhandkerchief he passed across his lips was stained with ruby streaks.

  "I know that, and I know the reason. But, once more, I ask you to give meyour hand. Electra, dearest, do not, I pray you, refuse me this. Oh, child!give me your hand, and in time you will learn to love me."

  He seized her fingers, and stooped his head till the silky brown beardmingled with her raven locks.

  "Mr. Clifton, to marry without love would be a grievous sin; I dare not. Wewould hate each other. Life would be a curse to both, and death a welcomerelease. Could you endure a wife who accepted your hand from gratitude andpity? Oh! such a relationship would be horrible beyond all degree. Ishudder at the thought."

  "But you would learn to love me."

  "But you cannot take Russell's place. None can come between him and myheart."

  "Electra Grey, you are unwomanly in your unsought love."

  "Unwomanly! If so, made such by your unmanliness. Unwomanly! Were you moremanly, I had never shocked your maudlin sentiments of propriety."

  "And this is my reward for all the tenderness I have lavished on you. WhenI stooped to beg your hand, to be repulsed with scorn and loathing. Tospend three years in faithful effort to win your heart, and reap ----contempt, hatred."

  Staggering back, he sank into his arm-chair and closed his eyes a moment,then continued--

  "I would not have troubled you long, Electra. It was because I knew that mylife must be short at best, that I urged you to gild the brief period withthe light of your love. I would not have bound you always to me; and when Iasked your hand a few minutes since, I knew that death would soon sever thetie and set you free. Let this suffice to palliate my 'unmanly' pleading. Ihave but one request to make of you now, and, weak as it may seem, I beg ofyou not to deny me. You are preparing to leave my house; this I know; I seeit in your face, and the thought is harrowing to me. Electra, remain undermy roof while I live; let me see you every day, here, in my house. If notas my wife, stay as my friend, my pupil, my child. I little thought I couldever condescend to ask this of anyone; but the dread of separation bows medown. Oh, child, I will not claim you long."

  She stood up before him with the portrait in her arms, resolved then andthere to leave him for ever. But the ghastly pallor of his face, thescarlet thread oozing over his lips and saturating the handkerchief withwhich he strove to staunch it, told her that the request was preferred onno idle pretext. In swift review, his kindness, generosity, and unwaveringaffection passed before her, and the mingled accents of remorse andcompassion whispered: "Pay your debt of gratitude by sacrificing yourheart. If you can make him happy, you owe it to him."

  Softly she took his hand, and said in a low, thrilling tone--

  "Mr. Clifton, I was passionate and hasty, and said some unkind things whichI would fain recall, and for which I beg your pardon, I thank you for thehonour you would have conferred on me, and for the unmerited love youoffered me. Unless it were in my power to return that love, it would besinful to give you my hand; but, since you desire it so earnestly, I willpromise to stay by your side, to do what I can to make you happy; to proveby my devotion that I am not insensible to all your kindness, that I amvery grateful for the affection you have given me. I come and offer youthis, as a poor return for all that I owe you; it is the most my consciencewill permit me to tender. My friend, my master, will you accept it andforgive the pain and sorrow I have caused you?"<
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  He felt her tears falling on his fingers, and, for a moment, neither spoke;then he drew the hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly.

  "Thank you, Electra. I know it is a sacrifice on your part, but I amselfish enough to accept it. Heaven bless you, my pupil."

  "In future we will not allude to this day of trial--let it be forgotten;'let the dead past bury its dead.' I will have no resurrected phantoms. Andnow, sir, you must not allow this slight hemorrhage to depress you. In afew days you will be stronger, quite able to examine and find fault with mywork. Shall I send a note to Dr. Le Roy, asking him to call and see youthis evening?"

  "He has just left me. Say nothing of the hemorrhage to mother; it wouldonly distress her."

  He released her hands, and, stooping over his pillow, she smoothed thedisordered hair, and for the first time pressed her lips to his forehead.

  Thus she bowed her neck to the yoke, and, with a fixed, unalterable will,entered on the long dreary ministry to which she felt that duty called.