Читать книгу Miss Hurd: An Enigma - Anna Katharine Green - Страница 6

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“Why seek at once to dive into

The depths of all that meets your view?”

Goethe

“Is that all?” cried a voice.

“Yes, that’s all. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“Do you know,” spake up another voice, “that it makes me think of an experience my sister Caroline once had. It was not of the same kind, of course, and the people were very different, and all that, but the woman showed the same fear and antipathy to a man, and—well, it was all very curious, and—”

“Hear! hear!” exclaimed more than one of the young people present.

“Do you want the story?”

“Hear! hear!” was again the cry.

The speaker, who was a slim young man of somewhat whimsical turn of countenance, and who had been introduced to me at table as Mr. Parke, came slowly forward at this, and, waiting for no further encouragement, began at once to relate the following.

“My sister has a leaning towards charities. I say this because many of you do not know her. She is the prettiest, sweetest girl in all New York, but she does not care a fig for her beauty, and does care, more than such a fellow as I can understand, for soup kitchens, crêches, working-women’s homes, and such like. She even went so far at one time as to join a sisterhood wholly given up to good works, and it was while she was a member of this body that the episode occurred of which I am asked to speak. It was a Protestant organization, and the members were not compelled to remain in it any longer than they wished, but while they did do so they wore the dress of the institution, and submitted to rules almost as arbitrary as those which govern Catholic nunneries. My sister, who has a natural aptitude for anything involving self-sacrifice, was devoted to this institution for over a year, during which time she took up her abode with the Ministering Sisters, as they were called, and came and went according to the will of the Matron, with as much zeal as if she had no further duty in life than to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and watch at the bedside of the sick and dying.

“One day—for she used to come home at odd times to see my father, who is devotedly attached to her—she told us of a new sister who had lately been admitted into the house, and of whose charm, accomplishments, and usefulness she could not say enough.

“ ‘She is absolutely the most superior being I ever saw,’ she cried, and with characteristic disregard to her own claims as a beauty, added: ‘And for all my love for the work, I do not see what such a woman means by shutting herself out from society in which she would shine so conspicuously.’

“ ‘Perhaps she has the same devotion as yourself,’ I suggested; but to this she answered: ‘She undoubtedly has; but she has something more; something which I have not—a powerful mind, and a tremendous capability. She looks like a queen in the simple habit which we wear, and when she speaks, there is a persuasion, mingled with authority, in her voice, that makes us all submit, rich and poor alike.’

“ ‘Very good qualities,’ urged my father, ‘for the calling to which she has devoted herself.’

“ ‘And,’ my sister, smiling, remarked: ‘I ought not to question it, nor question her aptitude for the work, for she looks absolutely radiant at times.’

“These glowing accounts of a woman whom even my sister thought admirable, naturally interested us, and the next time Caroline came home I was the first to demand news of Sister Eulalia, as she was called. Caroline’s countenance at once changed, and I saw that something of an unpleasant nature had transpired.

“ ‘She has left the sisterhood,’ was her unexpected reply. ‘She was dragged away. But, no; that is not true,’ corrected Caroline. ‘She went quietly enough; but it seemed to break her heart. I cannot think of it with any patience. Besides, it was all so mysterious!’

“ ‘How?’ we all asked.

“ ‘Why, it was like this. We were all in the great room awaiting the hour for prayers. Sister Eulalia was with us, and I remember that she wore a peculiarly beaming look, as if she had been visited by some great joy. I was told afterwards that she had just come from the death-bed of a little child. The Matron was late; something which does not often happen, so we had leisure to note each other more particularly, and even to say a few words, and were naturally improving the occasion, when I suddenly heard some one whisper in my ear: “Look at Sister Eulalia.” I did look, and was astonished to see our noble comrade shaking with terror and white as a sheet. Her eyes were on the door, and at the sudden lull which her emotion produced in us all, we heard advancing steps, and presently saw the figure of the Matron enter, followed by a gentleman of highly attractive appearance. We were so surprised at this—for we never receive gentlemen visitors—that for a moment we forgot Sister Eulalia, but when we remembered her again, we were astonished to find her in another part of the room, where the shadows were thickest and she ran the best chance of remaining unseen.

“ ‘ “I am convinced,” observed the Matron, addressing with marked deference the gentleman who accompanied her, “that you are mistaken in your suppositions. Yet, that you may lay no blame to my charge, I have summoned you at a time when you will be sure to see the whole sisterhood together, and if she is here, you have but to say so and take her away. We keep nobody against their inclinations or in defiance of any superior claim or duty. Young ladies, you will form yourselves into a row, that this gentleman may have every facility for observing your faces and of satisfying himself that the person he seeks is not here. But first,” she asked, “are any of our number absent?”

“ ‘ “Sister Agnes and Sister Helena,” we rejoined.

“ ‘ “Sister Agnes is a young girl of fifteen,” the Matron reported, turning to the gentleman; “and Sister Helena is pock-marked and entirely unlike the person you describe.”

“ ‘ “I will undoubtedly find the lady I claim somewhere in this line,” he declared, crossing the room to where we had drawn ourselves up in a row that was anything but straight, so agitated were we by the conflicting emotions of surprise and curiosity, to which the peculiarities of the occasion had given rise. I especially could not control myself, knowing as I did that it was Sister Eulalia he was seeking, and more than once stole a look along the line to the place where she stood with her veil drooping over her features and her hands clasped so tightly together that the finger tips were scarlet with the blood imprisoned in them. I was thus looking when he came to a standstill before me. Why he should have stopped in front of me I do not know, but the action recalled me to myself and impelled me to look up and meet his glance. I had expected a hard face, and I encountered a kind one. Indeed he was smiling, and though I felt I hated him because he had caused fear in Sister Eulalia, I could not but acknowledge he was as fine a looking man as I had seen in some time, and that if I had not known his errand, I should have felt an instant attraction towards him. But hating him, I could only answer his inquiring look by a fierce little nod, at which he first stared and then laughed and so passed on with somewhat increased speed down the line. As he approached nearer and nearer to Sister Eulalia we all held our breath, and when he paused directly before her and laid his finger first on her folded hands and then on her fallen chin which he slowly lifted till her eyes met his, we all felt such a revulsion of feeling that an unconscious murmur broke out on every side; and without waiting for our Matron’s command we broke rank and crowded up in support of our beloved sister whom we somehow felt had reached the crisis of her fate. Meantime he had dropped his hand and stood before her, calmly speaking. Those who were happy enough to stand at her side say that his words were very commonplace and that he merely asked her if she was ready to go home; but I will never believe that they did not convey some hint of constraint to which she felt forced to submit, for after her first gesture of repulsion she gave an apathetic nod, and stepping softly from her place, took his arm and crossed the room to the Matron. What she said to her and what he said in extenuation of his rather peculiar proceedings, I do not know, but when Sister Eulalia turned to leave the room, she threw us a look that was full of the old power and yet modulated by an inexpressible suggestion of suffering. I could not bear it. Flinging decorum to the winds, I sprang forward and asked if I might not be permitted to say farewell to my friend. Instantly Sister Eulalia caught me to her breast with a fervor that filled my heart to the brim, then she turned to the Matron and requested, as a final favor, that I might be allowed to accompany her to the door. Her wish was granted, and feeling somewhat easier in my mind I followed her into the hall where she again took me to her heart.

“ ‘ “Pray for me,” she whispered. “When you are sitting by the couches of the dying, when you are kissing an innocent child, remember my need and beseech the Almighty that I may be given strength to endure my life. It will keep me—it will keep me from—” She stole a look at the man who was standing near her and slowly let fall her arms. “God will watch over us all,” she added, and began to move towards the door.

“ ‘But here the most impressive thing of all occurred, or so it seemed to me. The gentleman whom she studiously avoided introducing to me, stopped her as she was walking away, and lifting the veil from her head, he laid it on a table that stood near. Then he pointed at the crucifix she wore, which she quietly took off, and then, ignoring the dress, which, as you know, is dark and unobtrusive, he handed her an elegant cloak of sable, which she drew mechanically about her, and then, taking up a little gem of a French hat, which he had evidently brought with the cloak from some home into which my thoughts did not dare to penetrate, he waited while she put it on, smiling with more and more satisfaction as she gradually assumed the appearance of an elegant woman of the world.

“ ‘When she was thus accoutred he held out a pair of gloves, and though I saw the dawn of an almost tragic impatience in her studiously composed face, she took the gloves and drew them on, and not till they were properly buttoned did she turn her face for one farewell instant upon mine. Then she did indeed give me those two gloved hands to hold, and when she saw the tears welling in my eyes, stooped and gave me a kiss, which was at once an apology for her hasty departure and an assurance of her lasting love.

“ ‘As she followed her companion through the front door, which he had considerately opened for her, I caught a glimpse of the carriage and horses which were awaiting her. They were in keeping with her attire, and as I shut the door upon her retreating form I knew that this house of mercy and devotion had just seen the last of one of New York’s most distinguished women.’

“This, my fair young friends, was the story my sister told me, and don’t you think it will bear comparison with that just related in the letter written to Mr. Lillie?”

“But is that all?” repeated some one. “Didn’t your sister ever see Sister Eulalia again? Surely she must have met her since?”

“It would seem so, but she never has. Even after she left the sisterhood and so had opportunity to make extended inquiries about her mysterious friend, she failed, and I failed, to see or learn of any one who corresponded to the description of Sister Eulalia or to the gentleman under whose guardianship she went away.”

“Then we are likely to have two mysteries to retire upon,” observed Miss Dalrymple, in her smooth, unsympathetic way,

“Who is that playing in the music-room?” I now ventured to ask, struck by the odd and broken strains which for the last few minutes had issued from the adjoining apartment.

“That? Oh, that is Miss Hurd; she usually plays for us at this hour.”