A Romantic Young Lady. Grant Robert
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Well, dear, I should hardly call it that," said my aunt. "Your father has an idea, I believe, that Mr. Dale is mercenary in his views. What foundation for it he may have I do not know. As for myself, I cannot say I am opposed, for I scarcely know the young man."
"My father is very unjust," I said with tears in my eyes.
"It may be, dear. Very likely he would own himself that it was merely an impression; but it is only right that he should watch over your interests carefully."
"Is it watching over my interests to cast suspicion on the motives of one of my best friends?"
"It will all come right in the end, dear."
"He is noble and high-minded. No one shall say anything against him in my presence," I cried fiercely.
My aunt smoothed out the lap of her dress reflectively. "You are quite justified in standing up for your friend, Virginia. No one can blame you for that. I have no doubt this young Dale is all you describe him to be. Only," she added, with an apologetic cough, "be discreet. Some persons, perhaps, would wish to be better informed before ceasing to feel uneasy. I believe, though, in trusting to a girl's own instinct in these matters: it rarely goes astray. If my parents had followed that course, I might have been more happy."
She raised her handkerchief to her eyes to stay a tear, and with an impulse of gratitude and pity I went to her and kissed her.
"Yes," she murmured, acknowledging my sympathy with a pressure of the hand, "when I was just about your age there was a young man who was very fond of me, and I liked him. He wished to marry me."
"And your father objected to him?"
"He thought we were too young. He insisted upon our waiting until we had more money. So we did, and he fell into bad habits, and – and we drifted apart. It is a long story."
"Oh, Aunt Helen, I am very sorry."
"Thank you, dear. I should never have told you except to show that I could sympathize with you. Only, as I have said, be discreet. It is a serious responsibility for me to assume. I hope you will take no decisive steps without consulting your father. Kiss me, Virginia."
We embraced with fervor, and I was sure that I had gained an ally.
Mr. Dale arrived on the expected day and was kindly welcomed by my aunt, who asked him to stay to tea. It was a superb evening, and he proposed that we should go out on the water as was the custom at Tinker's Reach.
He had been an accomplished oar in College, and a dozen strokes sent the light boat skimming beyond the bevy of similar craft by which we were surrounded. The sea was calm as a mill-pond, and the moon was at the full. I lay back with my face turned to the heavens and my fingers trailing in the cool water. Mr. Dale rowed on until the lights on shore seemed mere specks, and we could just perceive the gentle roll of the Atlantic swell. He rested on his oars and listened. The voices of the others were lost in the distance, and only the tinkle of a banjo wafted from afar broke the night's tranquillity. The water was alive with phosphorescence that sparkled like gems around the blades.
We had neither of us spoken since starting. I know not what were his thoughts, but mine were full of happiness. I felt sure, – sure of his love, and sure that he should have mine for the asking. And yet, so perfect was my peace, that I hoped he would postpone the words that were to make us still nearer to each other. We had talked so much of love and of its rapture and unselfishness earlier in our acquaintance, that now it was come to us silence seemed the most fitting commentary.
But he had made up his mind to speak at once.
"Virginia, I have brought you out here where we are alone, and where only Nature can interrupt us, to tell you that I adore you. Let the inconstant moon and twinkling stars laugh as they please. I know that true love exists, for my soul is full of it at this moment. Speak, dearest, and make me happy forever."
In the fulness of my transport at his ardent words, it seemed to me that heaven was come down to earth. My dreams had promised no such blessedness as this. Faintly and softly I murmured, —
"Roger, you know that I love you with all my heart."
"My darling!"
"My beloved!
Is there an hour to compare in unqualified happiness with that in which a woman of impulsive nature, ignorant of the world and blindly trusting, whispers the confidences of her innocent bosom in the ear of her accepted lover? Roger and I, alternately silent with bliss or overflowing with the rapture of the heart's language, strolled arm in arm along the moonlit shores far into the night.
Only one incident marred our content. "Virginia," said Roger suddenly, "what will your father say?"
My father! I had never thought of him. So absorbing had been the consciousness that Roger Dale loved me and I returned his love, that every other consideration was blotted from my mind.
"Not to-night. We will not talk of that to-night. Let me be happy while I can," I cried, pressing his arm with feverish fondness.
"He dislikes me then? I was sure of it," he said quietly, but there was a scowl on his face.
"He does not know you, Roger. But I will make him give his consent. He cannot refuse me anything."
We walked on in silence. I felt stirred and rebellious. "Dearest," said I, in a low tone of determination, "I will be true to you whatever happens."
He stooped his head and kissed me. "If you are as constant to me, sweet Virginia, as I shall be to you, nothing can separate us."
Oh, joyous words! Were they not the very same with which I had fortified my courage scarcely a month ago?
We parted just after midnight. My aunt was sitting up for me, and I burst into the room in great excitement.
"Oh, Aunt Helen, I am engaged, I am engaged! I am so happy!"
"My darling child!"
We wept in each other's arms.
"He is so noble, Aunty; so good and kind!"
"God grant he may continue so!" she said, stroking my hair.
I gave a vent to my ecstasy in talk. While I rattled on she sat drying her eyes and looking at me with a half fond, half uneasy expression. Now and again she sobbed hysterically. At last she exclaimed, "What will your father say?"
"We will think of that to-morrow," I said. "I mean to be perfectly happy to-night."
"You will have to write to him of course."
"We have decided on nothing yet."
"Oh, Virginia, I am all in a flutter. What will he say? He is sure to blame me, and Heaven knows I acted for what seemed to me the best."
"It was the best, dear Aunt Helen. Can't you see how happy I am? When Roger and I are married, you shall come and live with us always, and have the best room in the house; for if it hadn't been for you I might never have known what it is to be loved by the noblest man in the world."
It was a long time before I fell asleep. I was aroused in the morning by a knock at my door. It was Aunt Helen.
"Let me in," she said mysteriously.
"Well?" said I when I had risen and admitted her, "what is it? What has happened?"
"Your father has just arrived. He is downstairs."
"Father?"
"Yes. He knows nothing of course. I have scarcely slept a wink all night, Virginia. I feel dreadfully nervous. What will he say?"
I got back into bed and drew the clothes up to my chin in an affectation of composure. But I was overwhelmed by the news. His opposition seemed a much more serious consideration than when regarded by moonlight. A visit from him at any other time would not have been a surprise, for he had said he should run down to Tinker's Reach at his first leisure moment.
My aunt stood at the foot of the bed, watching my face and expecting me to speak.
"What do you mean to do about it?" she asked.
"Tell him," I replied.
"I suppose