Papers from Overlook-House. Beasley Frederic W.
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and with a slight pomp of declamation, "your will is law. My dress, for the next two or three weeks, shall be a grand deceit, as if it was my habit to be as particular as the young Quakeress, who once visited us, and who was as exact in arranging her robes, as the snow is, in taking care, that there shall be grace in its unblemished drifts. I intend, in fact, to be irresistible. Henceforth let all young men, quiet, respectable, who have not cross eyes, and who fascinate a mother, and give occasion to all her sanguine hopes of matrimonial felicity for a daughter, beware of Meta. They are as sure of being captives, as the poor little rabbits I so pity, when once they unwisely venture, to nibble at the bait in one of Peter's celebrated traps. So, best of mothers, forgive the past. Wisest of counsellors, for a brief space, farewell."
After the retreat of the daughter silence endured for a little while, while I walked to the window, and enjoyed the extensive and beautiful view. The residence of the Judge was on a hill, overlooking a picturesque village, and hence the name of the mansion which in time dispelled a very ugly name, from the small town, and gave its own designation to the place – the name of such a collection of dwellings generally becoming permanent when the post-office is established in its limits. After this I was engaged in the survey of some fine old plates upon the wall, and the picture of a portly old gentleman, whose dress indicated that he had lived in the olden time. I was seeking to find some clue to his character and history in his face, when Mrs. Almore rose, and crossed the room and joined me.
It was evident that the picture was too important for me to look upon it and not know what was due of admiration for him, of whom this uncertain resemblance was all that remained on earth, – the frail shadow of a shadow. I saw at once that she had a formidable history to relate, and that she had often told it to those who gazed on the form on the wall. I suspected that some family pride was gratified by the narrative; and prepared myself for some harmless amusement, as I was to watch and observe how the vanity would expose itself. But she had not got beyond some dry statistics, the name, the age, the offices held in the State in the good olden time, when such honors were always a pledge of merit in the possessors, before the Judge entered the room, without our observing it. He drew near, heard for a moment, with the greatest astonishment, the loud tones of the lady, who now addressed me.
He extended his hand to me, with very kind, but dignified, courtesy, and, after giving the assurance that I was most truly welcome on my own account, and for the sake of my father, who had been a fellow-student with him at Princeton College, and almost a life-long friend, he turned to the lady by us, his honored wife, and exclaimed, —
"My dear, I heard your elevated voice outside of the house, and in the extreme end of the hall. You really alarmed me. At first I could not imagine what had occurred in the room. Why do you speak in such tones of thunder to my young friend? Is this a new style of hospitality for Overlook-House?"
"You told me that our guest, Mr. Martin, was deaf." So spoke the good hostess, with a look of frightened inquiry, a perturbed glance at myself, – with a countenance that expressed a desire for relief, – while her tone was expressive of a great misgiving.
"I beg your pardon," said the Judge; "you are under an entire mistake. I told you that he wrote to me, some time ago, that he had met with an accident and become very lame. But when I told you this I remember that you were very much abstracted. I presume that you were deeply absorbed in some new order for your household, or in the state of Dinah's noisy heir. I never heard that Mr. Martin was deaf for a moment in his life. I told you that he was lame."
"Are you sure – are you sure that he is not deaf?"
"I am sure that he hears as well as either of us. And, – at least as far as you are concerned, that is to say that he could not have a better sense of hearing. He might possibly, it is true, be abstracted, when any one spoke to him, and imagine that he said 'deaf,' when in reality the speaker said 'lame.'"
"Dear me! my future peace is destroyed. It is worse than if a ghost intended perpetually to haunt me – for the ghost would come only in the dark; but this disaster will torture me day and night. I have buried myself under a mass of ruins from which I cannot extricate myself." And the lady looked as if an anaconda was threatening to creep in among us.
"I am sure that Mr. Martin will forgive you. He has only been annoyed by a loud conversation for a short time. It will be a pleasing variety to hear you address him in a gentle voice. Since he had such evidence of the pains you have taken to entertain him when you thought him deaf, he is assured that you will not change your desire to make him feel at home and to know that he is among friends, now that you hear so well."
"Judge, you have no sympathy. You should have taken care that I did not fall into such a terrible mistake. I often notice that you speak to me, and turn and go away, as if you never watched to observe whether I understood you or no. I have often felt it, Judge, often felt it, – although I kept my feelings on the subject to myself. And now you see the consequences. You see where you have landed me. And I am the one to suffer all the evil that results from such indifference. What shall I do? Here is Meta. Meta, what shall I do? Mr. Martin is not at all deaf. Somehow, your father did not impress what he said on my mind. I am sure that this is not the first time that I have misunderstood him, and I never have any desire to fall into error. People that are so accurate and so careful as he is, not to be guilty of any mistake in their professional duties, so accurate as they say he is when on the bench, are often careless of smaller matters at home. Meta, Mr. Martin can hear. My dear, he can hear as well as you or I."
"Let me, my dear mother, enter into your Christian joy, now that your sorrow over his supposed affliction is relieved. You know that it is an unmingled pleasure to you to learn that he is not afflicted with so great a calamity as you supposed."
"Very well, Meta."
"And then, mother, as far as I am involved in the consequences of your mistake, he knows that I appear in my present fascinations; see my smooth hair, and this frock almost new, not in my own will, or in accordance with my usual habits, but solely from a sense of filial duty. I am so charming, because of my reverential regard for the injunctions of my mother."
"Meta, can you never be still?"
"And then, mother, if there be a little art in my dress, if snares lurk around me to secure those who come near me, this does not proceed, in the least possible degree, from any guile in me. It is the mere expression of the anxiety of a mother that her daughter should not attain the condition of some of the best people on the earth. I allude to a class of my sex who are ignorantly, I will not say uncharitably, supposed to make the world uncomfortable through their inflexible devotion to minor morals."
"Meta, unless you are silent I shall have to leave the room."
"Well, mother, then I am mute. How fortunate it was that I was the only person with whom you conversed in the hearing of Mr. Martin!"
"Meta, you drive me mad. I did have another conversation, which he heard."
"Oh, do tell us! What happened? It could not have been as interesting to him as the one which you held with me. I shall not use my brush for some time without thinking about it. Do tell us. As Nancy often says, I am dying to hear all about it."
"Oh," said I, "Miss. Meta, all that your mother said was of no importance. She cannot care, when she reflects upon it, whether I heard it or no."
"But, Mr. Martin, then tell us what she said. It put my father and myself under a lasting obligation."
"Mr. Martin can be more considerate than you are."
"Yes, madam, because he has heard all. I will be as considerate as you please, if I can only acquire the same information. Well, walls have ears. And if ever walls heard anything, I am sure ours have heard to-day. They will speak in due time. Father, who has been in the room with mother since Mr. Martin arrived? I must ask Ben."
"Meta, I take my departure. If nothing is heard of me to-day or to-morrow, search the mill-pond. Oh, what a difference there is between being lame, or deaf! I cannot forgive your father. Really, he ought to be more cautious. I cannot forgive him."
CHAPTER III.
THE CHRISTMAS LOG IN THE KITCHEN
The day after my arrival, Miss Meta and I were returning