STRAHAN improved rapidly in health, and was soon able to divide histime between his city and his country home. The recruiting stationnear the latter place was successful in securing stalwart men,who were tempted by the unusually large bounties offered throughMerwyn's gift. The young officer lost no opportunities of visitingMarian's drawing-room, and, while his welcome continued as cordialas ever, she, nevertheless, indicated by a frank and almost sisterlymanner the true state of her feelings toward him. The impulsearising at the critical hour of his illness speedily died away. Hisrenewed society confirmed friendship, but awakened nothing more,and quieter thoughts convinced her that the future must reveal whather relations should be to him and to others.
As he recovered health her stronger sympathy went out to Mr. Lane,who had not asked for leave of absence.
"I am rampantly well," he wrote, "and while my heart often travelsnorthward, I can find no plausible pretext to follow. I may receivea wound before long which will give me a good excuse, since, forour regiment, there is prospect of much active service while theinfantry remain in winter quarters. It is a sad truth that thearmy is discouraged and depleted to a degree never known before.Homesickness is epidemic. A man shot himself the other day becauserefused a furlough. Desertions have been fearfully numerous amongenlisted men, and officers have urged every possible excuse forleaves of absence. A man with my appetite stands no chance whatever,and our regimental surgeon laughs when I assure him that I amsuffering from acute heart-disease. Therefore, my only hope is awound, and I welcome our prospective raid in exchange for drearypicket duty."
Marian knew what picket duty and raiding meant in February weather,and wrote words of kindly warmth that sustained her friend throughhard, prosaic service.
She also saw that her father was burdened with heavy cares andresponsibilities. Disloyal forces and counsels were increasing inthe great centres at the North, and especially in New York City.Therefore he was intrusted with duties of the most delicate anddifficult nature. It was her constant effort to lead him to forgethis anxieties during such evenings as he spent at home, and whenshe had congenial callers she sometimes prevailed upon him to takepart in the general conversation. It so happened, one evening, thatStrahan and Merwyn were both present. Seeing that the latter felta little de trop, Mr. Vosburgh invited him to light a cigar in thedining-room, and the two men were soon engaged in animated talk,the younger being able to speak intelligently of the feeling inEngland at the time. By thoughtful questions he also drew out hishost in regard to affairs at home.
The two guests departed together, and Marian, observing the pleasedexpression on her father's face, remarked, "You have evidentlyfound a congenial spirit."
"I found a young fellow who had ideas and who was not averse toreceiving more."
"You can relieve my conscience wholly, papa," said the young girl,laughing. "When Mr. Merwyn comes hereafter I shall turn him overto you. He will then receive ideas and good influence at theirfountain-head. You and mamma are inclined to give him so muchencouragement that I must be more on the defensive than ever."
"That policy would suit me exactly," replied her father, witha significant little nod. "I don't wish to lose you, and I'm moreafraid of Merwyn than of all the rest together."
"More afraid of HIM!" exclaimed the girl, with widening eyes.
"Of him."
"Why?"
"Because you don't understand him."
"That's an excellent reason for keeping him at a distance."
"Reason, reason. What has reason to do with affairs of this kind?"
"Much, in my case, I assure you. Thank you for forewarning me soplainly."
"I've no dark designs against your peace."
Nevertheless, these half-jesting words foreshadowed the future,so far as Mr. Vosburgh and Mr. Merwyn were concerned. Others wereusually present when the latter called, and he always seemed toenjoy a quiet talk with the elder man. Mrs. Vosburgh never failedin her cordiality, or lost hope that his visits might yet lead toa result in accordance with her wishes. Marian made much sport oftheir protege, as she called him, and, since she now treated him withthe same courtesy that other mere calling acquaintances received,the habit of often spending part of the evening at the modest homegrew upon him. Mr. Vosburgh soon discovered that the young manwas a student of American affairs and history. This fact led tooccasional visits by the young man to the host's library, whichwas rich in literature on these subjects.
On one stormy evening, which gave immunity from other callers,Marian joined them, and was soon deeply interested herself. Suddenlybecoming conscious of the fact, she bade them an abrupt good-nightand went to her room with a little frown on her brow.
"It's simply exasperating," she exclaimed, "to see a young fellowof his inches absorbed in American antiquities when the honor andliberty of America are at stake. Then, at times, he permits suchan expression of sadness to come into his big black eyes! He isdistant enough, but I can read his very thoughts, and he thinksme obduracy itself. He will soon return to his elegant home andproceed to be miserable in the most luxurious fashion. If he wereriding with Mr. Lane, to-night, on a raid, he would soon distinguishbetween his cherished woe and a soldier's hardships."
Nevertheless, she could do little more than maintain a mentalprotest at his course, in which he persevered unobtrusively, yetunfalteringly. There was no trace of sentiment in his manner towardher, nor the slightest conscious appeal for sympathy. His conversationwas so intelligent, and at times even brilliant, that she could nothelp being interested, and she observed that he resolutely chosesubjects of an impersonal character, shunning everything relatingto himself. She could not maintain any feeling approaching contempt,and the best intrenchment she could find was an irritated perplexity.She could not deny that his face was growing strong in its manlybeauty. Although far paler and thinner than when she had firstseen it, a heavy mustache and large, dark, thoughtful eyes relievedit from the charge of effeminacy. Every act, and even his tones,indicated high breeding, and she keenly appreciated such things.His reserve was a stimulus to thought, and his isolated life wasunique for one in his position, while the fact that he sought herhome and society with so little to encourage him was strong andsubtle homage. More than all, she thought she recognized a traitin him which rarely fails to win respect,--an unfaltering will.Whatever his plans or purposes were, the impression grew strongerin her mind that he would not change them.
"But I have a pride and a will equal to his," she assured herself."He can come thus far and no farther. Papa thinks I will yieldeventually to his persistence and many fascinations. Were thispossible, no one should know it until he had proved himself thepeer of the bravest and best of my time."
Winter had passed, and spring brought not hope and gladness, butdeepening dread as the hour approached when the bloody strugglewould be renewed. Mr. Lane had participated in more than one cavalryexpedition, but had received no wounds. Strahan was almost readyto return, and had sent much good material to the thinned ranks ofhis regiment. His reward came promptly, for at that late day menwere most needed, and he who furnished them secured a leveragebeyond all political influence. The major in his regiment resignedfrom ill-health, and Strahan was promoted to the vacancy at once.He received his commission before he started for the front, andhe brought it to Marian with almost boyish pride and exultation.He had called for Merwyn on his way, and insisted on having hiscompany. He found the young fellow nothing loath.
Merwyn scarcely entertained the shadow of a hope of anything morethan that time would soften Marian's feelings toward him. The warcould not last forever. Unexpected circumstances might arise, anda steadfast course must win a certain kind of respect. At any rateit was not in his nature to falter, especially when her tolerancewas parting with much of its old positiveness. His presence undoubtedlyhad the sanction of her father and mother, and for the former hewas gaining an esteem and liking independent of his fortunes withthe daughter. Love is a hardy plant, and thrives on meagre sustenance.It was evid
ent that the relations between Marian and Strahan werenot such as he had supposed during the latter's illness. Her respectand friendship he would have, if it took a lifetime to acquirethem. He would not be balked in the chief purpose of his life,or retreat from the pledge, although it was given in the agony ofhumiliation and defeat. As long as he had reason to believe thather hand and heart were free, it was not in human nature to abandonall hope.
On this particular evening Mr. Vosburgh admitted the young men,and Marian, hearing Strahan's voice, called laughingly from theparlor: "You are just in time for the wedding. I should have beenengaged to any one except you."
"Engaged to any one except me? How cruel is my fate!"
"Pardon me," began Merwyn quickly, and taking his hat again; "Ishall repeat my call at a time more opportune."
Marian, who had now appeared, said, in polite tones: "Mr. Merwyn,stay by all means. I could not think of separating two such friends.Our waitress has no relatives to whom she can go, therefore we aregiving her a wedding from our house."
"Then I am sure there is greater reason for my leave-takingat present. I am an utter stranger to the bride, and feel that mypresence would seem an intrusion to her, at least. Nothing at thistime should detract from her happiness. Good-evening."
Marian felt the force of his words, and was also compelled torecognize his delicate regard for the feelings of one in humblestation. She would have permitted him to depart, but Mr. Vosburghinterposed quickly: "Wait a moment, Mr. Merwyn; I picked up a rarebook, down town, relating to the topic we were discussing the otherevening. Suppose you go up to my library. I'll join you there, forthe ceremony will soon be over. Indeed, we are now expecting thegroom, his best man, and the minister. It so happens that the happypair are Protestants, and so we can have an informal wedding."
"Oh, stay, Merwyn," said Strahan. "It was I who brought you here,and I shouldn't feel that the evening was complete without you."
The former looked doubtfully at Marian, who added, quickly: "Youcannot refuse papa's invitation, Mr. Merwyn, since it removes theonly scruple you can have. It is, perhaps, natural that the brideshould wish to see only familiar faces at this time, and it wasthoughtful of you to remember this, but, as papa says, the affairwill soon be over."
"And then," resumed Strahan, "I have a little pie to show you, MissMarian, in which Merwyn had a big finger."
"I thought that was an affair between ourselves," said Merwyn,throwing off his overcoat.
"Oh, do not for the world reveal any of Mr. Merwyn's secrets!"cried the girl.
"It is no secret at all to you, Miss Marian, nor did I ever intendthat it should be one," Strahan explained.
"Mr. Merwyn, you labor under a disadvantage in your relationswith Mr. Strahan. He has friends, and friendship is not based onreticence."
"Therefore I can have no friends, is the inference, I suppose."
"That cannot be said while I live," began the young officer, warmly;but here a ring at the door produced instant dispersion. "I supposeI can be present," Strahan whispered to Marian. "Barney Ghegan isan older acquaintance of mine than of yours, and your pretty waitresshas condescended to smile graciously on me more than once, althoughmy frequent presence at your door must have taxed her patience."
"You have crossed her palm with too much silver, I fear, to makefrowns possible. Silver, indeed! when has any been seen? But moneyin any form is said to buy woman's smiles."
"Thank Heaven it doesn't buy yours."
"Hush! Your gravity must now be portentous."
The aggressive Barney, now a burly policeman, had again broughtpretty Sally Maguire to terms, and on this evening received thereward of his persistent wooing. After the ceremony and a substantialsupper, which Mrs. Vosburgh graced with her silver, the couple tooktheir brief wedding journey to their rooms, and Barney went on dutyin the morning, looking as if all the world were to his mind.
When Mr. Vosburgh went up to his library his step was at firstunnoted, and he saw his guest sitting before the fire, lost in agloomy revery. When observed, he asked, a little abruptly: "Is thematter to which Mr. Strahan referred a secret which you wish kept?"
"Oh, no! Not as far as I am concerned. What I have done is abagatelle. I merely furnished a little money for recruiting purposes."
"It is not a little thing to send a good man to the front, Mr.Merwyn."
"Nor is it a little thing not to go one's self," was the bitterreply. Then he added, hastily, "I am eager to see the book to whichyou refer."
"Pardon me, Mr. Merwyn, your words plainly reveal your inclination.Would you not be happier if you followed it?"
"I cannot, Mr. Vosburgh, nor can I explain further. Therefore,I must patiently submit to all adverse judgment." The words werespoken quietly and almost wearily.
"I suppose that your reasons are good and satisfactory."
"They are neither good nor satisfactory," burst out the young manwith sudden and vindictive impetuosity. "They are the curse of mylife. Pardon me. I am forgetting myself. I believe you are friendlyat least. Please let all this be as if it were not." Then, as ifthe possible import of his utterance had flashed upon him, he drewhimself up and said, coldly, "If, under the circumstances, you feelI am unworthy of trust--"
"Mr. Merwyn," interrupted his host, "I am accustomed to deal withmen and to be vigilantly on my guard. My words led to what haspassed between us, and it ends here and now. I would not give youmy hand did I not trust you. Come, here is the book;" and he ledthe way to a conversation relating to it.
Merwyn did his best to show a natural interest in the subject, butit was evident that a tumult had been raised in his mind difficultto control. At last he said: "May I take the book home? I willreturn it after careful reading."
Mr. Vosburgh accompanied him to the drawing-room, and Mariansportively introduced him to Major Strahan.
For a few minutes he was the gayest and most brilliant member ofthe party, and then he took his leave, the young girl remarking,"Since you have a book under your arm we cannot hope to detain you,for I have observed that, with your true antiquarian, the longerpeople have been dead the more interesting they become."
"That is perfectly natural," he replied, "for we can form all sortsof opinions about them, and they can never prove that we are wrong."
"More's the pity, if we are wrong. Good-night."
"Order an extra chop, Merwyn, and I'll breakfast with you," criedStrahan. "I've only two days more, you know."
"Well, papa," said Marian, joining him later in the library, "didyou and Mr. Merwyn settle the precise date when the Dutch tookHolland?"
"'More's the pity, if we ARE wrong!' I have been applying yourwords to the living rather than to the dead."
"To Mr. Merwyn, you mean."
"Yes."
"Has he been unbosoming himself to you?"
"Oh, no, indeed!"
"Why then has he so awakened your sympathy?"
"I fear he is facing more than any of your friends."
"And, possibly, fear is the reason."
"I do not think so."
"It appears strange to me, papa, that you are more ready to trustthan I am. If there is nothing which will not bear the light, whyis he so reticent even to his friend?"
"I do not know the reasons for his course, nor am I sure that theywould seem good ones to me, but my knowledge of human nature isat fault if he is not trustworthy. I wish we did know what burdenshis mind and trammels his action. Since we do not I will admit,to-night, that I am glad you feel toward him just as you do."
"Papa, you entertain doubts at last."
"No, I admit that something of importance is unknown and bids fairto remain so, but I cannot help feeling that it is something forwhich he is not to blame. Nevertheless, I would have you take nosteps in the dark, were the whole city his."
"O papa! you regard this matter much too seriously. What steps hadI proposed taking? How much would it cost me to dispense with hissociety altogether?"
"I do not know how much it mig
ht cost you in the end."
"Well, you can easily put the question to the test."
"That I do not propose to do. I shall not act as if what may bea great misfortune was a fault. Events will make everything clearsome day, and if they clear him he will prove a friend whom I, atleast, shall value highly. He is an unusual character, one thatinterests me greatly, whatever future developments may reveal. Itwould be easy for me to be careless or arbitrary, as I fear manyfathers are in these matters. I take you into my confidence andreveal to you my thoughts. You say that your reason has much todo with this matter. I take you at your word. Suspend judgment inregard to Merwyn. Let him come and go as he has done. He will notpresume on such courtesy, nor do you in any wise commit yourself,even to the friendly regard that you have for others. For yoursake, Marian, for the chances which the future may bring, I shouldbe glad if your heart and hand were free when I learn the wholetruth about this young fellow. I am no match-maker in the vulgaracceptation of the word, but I, as well as you, have a deep interestat stake. I have informed myself in regard to Mr. Merwyn, senior.The son appears to have many of the former's traits. If he can nevermeet your standard or win your love that ends the matter. But, inspite of everything, he interests you deeply, as well as myself;and were he taking the same course as your friend who has justleft, he would stand a better chance than that friend. You see howfrank I am, and how true to my promise to help you."
Marian came and leaned her arm on his shoulder as she lookedthoughtfully into the glowing grate.
At last she said: "I am grateful for your frankness, papa, andunderstand your motives. Many girls would not make the sad blundersthey do had they such a counsellor as you, one who can be frankwithout being blunt and unskilful. In respect to these subjects,even with a daughter, there must be delicacy as well as precisionof touch."
"There should also be downright common-sense, Marian, a recognitionof tacts and tendencies, of what is and what may be. On one sidea false delicacy often seals the lips of those most interested,until it is too late to speak; on the other, rank, wealth, andlike advantages are urged without any delicacy at all. These havetheir important place, but the qualities which would make yourhappiness sure are intrinsic to the man. You know it is in my lineto disentangle many a snarl in human conduct. Look back on thepast without prejudice, if you can. Merwyn virtually said that hewould make your standard of right and wrong his,--that he wouldmeasure things as you estimate them, with that difference, of course,inherent in sex. Is he not trying to do so? Is he not acting, withone exception, as you would wish? Here comes in the one thing wedon't understand. As you suggest, it may be a fatal flaw in themarble, but we don't know this. The weight of evidence, in my mind,is against it. His course toward Strahan--one whom he might easilyregard as a rival--is significant. He gave him far more thanmoney; he drained his own vitality in seeking to restore his friendto health. A coarse, selfish man always cuts a sorry figure in asick-room, and shuns its trying duties even in spite of the strongestobligations. You remember Mrs. Strahan's tribute to Merwyn. Yetthere was no parade of his vigils, nor did he seek to make capitalout of them with you. Now I can view all these things dispassionately,as a man, and, as I said before, they give evidence of an unusualcharacter. Apparently he has chosen a certain course, and he hasthe will-power to carry it out. Your heart, your life, are stillyour own. All I wish is that you should not bestow them so hastilyas not to secure the best possible guaranties of happiness. Thisyoung man has crossed your path in a peculiar way. You have immenseinfluence over him. So far as he appears free to act you influencehis action. Wait and see what it all means before you come to anydecision about him. Now," he concluded, smiling, "is my common-senseapplied to these affairs unnatural or unreasonable?"
"I certainly can wait with great equanimity," she replied, laughing,"and I admit the reasonableness of what you say as you put it. Norcan I any longer affect any disguises with you. Mr. Merwyn DOESinterest me, and has retained a hold upon my thoughts which hasannoyed me. He has angered and perplexed me. It has seemed as ifhe said, 'I will give you so much for your regard; I will not give,however, what you ask.' As you put it to-night, it is the same asif he said, 'I cannot.' Why can he not? The question opens unpleasantvistas to my mind. It will cost me little, however, to do as youwish, and my curiosity will be on the qui vive, if nothing more."
CHAPTER XXV.
A CHAINED WILL.
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