Читать книгу For Woman's Love - Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth - Страница 11

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It was near the close of a cold, bright day early in January, that Mrs. Rockharrt and Corona Haught, escorted by Mr. Clarence, stepped from the train at the depot of the capital city of their State—which must, for obvious reason, be nameless—and were driven to the Young Ladies' Institute, where the girl was left, and as the adieus were being said it was explained to Cora that discretion and social conventionality dictated that her correspondence with young Rothsay should cease. Clarence stated that he would write to the youth and explain that the rules of the school, also, forbade such a correspondence.

"I will also tell him that he can continue to send the Watch to you, with his own paragraphs marked as before," said Corona's uncle. "There can be no law against that. I will correspond with Rule occasionally, and keep you posted up as to how he is getting on. There can be no school law against your uncle writing to you."

Cora Haught graduated when she was eighteen. In all these years she had not seen Rule Rothsay. She only heard from him through his letters to her Uncle Clarence, reported second hand to herself. She knew that in these five years Rule had risen, step by step, in the office where he had begun his apprenticeship; that he had risen to be foreman, then sub-editor, and now he was part proprietor and one of the most powerful political writers on the paper.

The workingmen's party wished to put him up as a candidate for the State legislature. What a power he would have been for their cause in that place! but when the subject was proposed to him, he admonished the spokesman that he was, as yet, a little less than of legal age for an office that required its holder to be at least twenty-five years old.

After Cora's graduation the Rockharrt family spent a week in their town house, preparatory to a summer tour through the Northern States and Canada.

One morning, while the whole family were sitting around the breakfast table, old Aaron Rockharrt suddenly spoke:

"Fabian! Now that my granddaughter has left school, she will want a companion near her own age. Miss Rose Flowers would suit very well. Have you any idea where she is?"

"Miss Rose Flowers, my dear sir, is now Mrs. Slydell Stillwater, the—"

"Married!" interrupted all voices except that of the Iron King, who bent his heavy gray brows as he gazed upon his son.

"Stuff and nonsense! How did you know anything about her marriage?" demanded old Aaron Rockharrt.

"In the simplest and most natural way, sir. I saw it in the newspapers, about three years ago. And, in point of fact, I forgot it and should never have thought of it again but for your inquiries about the young woman this morning. Her husband is Captain Slydell Stillwater, captain and half owner of the East Indiaman Queen of Sheba," replied Mr. Fabian.

"Poor child! To be parted from her husband more than half her time. Is Captain Stillwater now at sea?"

"I think he must be, sir, as there has hardly been time for his return since he sailed soon after his marriage."

"Do you know where Mrs. Stillwater lives?"

"I do not, sir; but I might find out by inquiring of some mutual acquaintance."

"Do so. And, Mrs. Rockharrt," the King added, turning to his little old wife, "you will write a note to Mrs. Stillwater, inviting her to join our party for a summer tour, and as our guest, remember. Fabian, you will see that the note reaches the lady in time."

"I will do my best, sir," said Mr. Fabian.

"Very well," said the wife.

The note of invitation to Mrs. Stillwater was written. Mr. Fabian used such dispatch in his search for the lady that his efforts were soon rewarded with success. A letter came from Mrs. Stillwater, postmarked Baltimore, in which she cordially thanked Mrs. Rockharrt for her invitation, gratefully accepted it, and offered to join the Rockharrt party at any point most convenient to the latter. This answer was communicated to the family autocrat, who thereupon issued his commands:

"Write and say to Mrs. Stillwater that we will stop at Baltimore on our way, and call for her at her hotel on Friday; but say that if she should not be ready, we will wait her convenience."

This letter was also written and sent off.

Three days later the whole family left the capital for Baltimore, which they reached at night. They went directly to the hotel where Mrs. Stillwater was staying, and engaged rooms for their whole party.

They scarcely took time enough to wash the travel dust from their faces and brush it from their hair, and change their traveling suits for fresher dresses, before they hurried down stairs to their private parlor, whence Mrs. Rockharrt sent her own and her granddaughter's cards to Mrs. Stillwater's room.

A few minutes after, the young siren appeared.

"Heavens! how beautiful she is! More beautiful than before! Look, Cora! Was there ever such a perfect creature?" said Mr. Clarence, under his breath.

Cora looked at her former governess with a start of involuntary wonder and admiration. Rose Stillwater was more beautiful than ever. Her exquisite oval face was a little more rounded. Her fair complexion had a richer bloom on the cheeks and lips. Her hair was darker in the shade and brighter in the light; her blue eyes were softer and sweeter; her graceful form fuller. She was dressed in some floating material that enveloped her figure like a cloud.

She came, blooming, beaming, smiling, into the room, where all arose to meet her. She went first to Mr. Rockharrt, and bent and almost knelt before him, and raised his hand to her lips as if he had been her sovereign; and then, before he could respond—for she saw that he was slightly embarrassed as well as greatly pleased by this adoration—she turned and sank into the arms of old Mrs. Rockharrt, and cooed forth:

"How sweet of you to remember your poor, lonely child and call her to your side!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be married, my dear?" was the practical question of the old lady.

"It was shyness on my part. I dared not obtrude my poor affairs on your attention until you should notice me in some way," she meekly replied, and then she gracefully slipped out of Mrs. Rockharrt's embrace and went and folded Cora to her bosom, murmuring:

"My own darling, how happy I am to meet you again! How lovely you are, my sweet angel!"

"Oh, why did you not write to me that you were going to be married? I should have so liked to have been your bridesmaid!" complained Cora.

"Sweetest sweet, if I had dreamed such honor and happiness were possible for me, I should have written and claimed them with pride and delight. But I dared not, my darling! I dared not. I was but a poor governess, without any claims to your remembrance, and should not now be with you had not the dear lady, your grandmamma, kindly recalled her poor dependant to mind and brought me into her circle."

"Oh, Rose, do not speak so! I should hate to hear even the poorest maid in our house speak so. You were never grandma's dependant, or anybody's dependant. You were one of the noble army whom I honor more than I do all the monarchs on earth," said Cora earnestly.

With remembrances and delightful chat the evening was wearing away, and it was time for the party to retire to rest.

Two days after this the Rockharrts, with Cora Haught and Mrs. Stillwater, left Baltimore for the North, en route for Canada and New Brunswick.

The party went first directly to Boston, where they stayed for a few days, to attend the commencement of the collegiate school at which Master Sylvanus Haught was preparing himself to become a candidate for admission to the military academy at West Point; but where, as yet, he had not distinguished himself by application to his studies.

On promising to do better, Sylvan was permitted to accompany his friends on their summer tour.

The party spent the season in traveling, and it was not until the 15th of September that they set out on their return South. They reached Baltimore late in September, yet found the weather in that latitude still oppressively warm, and roomed at a hotel.

Here it had been tacitly understood from the first that Mrs. Stillwater was to remain, while the rest of the party should proceed on their journey West.

But the family despot had become so habituated to the incense hourly offered up to his egotism by Circe, that he felt her society to be essential to his contentment. So he issued his commands to his wife to invite Mrs. Stillwater to accompany the family party to Rockhold for a long visit.

The old lady very willingly obeyed these orders, for she also desired the visit from the fascinator, whose presence kept the tyrant in a good humor and on his good behavior. So she pressed Rose Stillwater to accompany them to their mountain home.

Rose Stillwater raised her beautiful soft blue eyes, brimming with tears that ever came at will, gazed sorrowfully, penitently, deprecatingly, into the lady's face and cooed:

"I feel as if it were a sin to refuse you! You who have been a mother to me. And, oh! how dearly I should love to stay with you and wait on you forever and forever! I could not conceive a happier life! But duty constrains me to deny myself this delight, and to wrench myself away from all I love."

"Duty? What duty, my dear girl? I do not understand that. You have no children to take care of, no house to look after, no husband to please, for Captain Stillwater is at sea. What duty, then, can you have which is so pressing as to keep you away from your friends?"

"The Queen of Sheba was spoken and passed by the Liverpool and New York ocean steamer Arctic on Saturday, within three days' sail of land. And he may arrive here any hour. I must wait to receive him."

"Indeed! I did not know that. My dear, I congratulate you on your coming happiness. I can urge you no more, of course. It is a sacred duty as well as a sweet delight for you to remain here and meet your husband. So, of course, we must resign ourselves to our loss; but I hope, my dear, that you and your husband will come together at an early date and make us a long visit."

"I hope so, too, dearest lady!"

When, a little later in the evening, the Iron King heard the result of this interview, he was—as his wife had feared—dreadfully disappointed, and consequently in one of his morose and diabolical tempers, and sullenly set his despotic will against the reasonable wishes of everybody else. He announced that they should all set forward the next day. It was high time they should all be at home looking after house and business. So it was settled.

As the party needed rest, they retired very early.

That night Cora Haught had a rather strange adventure, to relate which intelligibly I must describe the situation of their rooms.

The suite occupied by the Rockharrt party was on the third floor of the house, and consisted of five rooms in a row, on the left hand side of the corridor, from the head of the stairs. The front room, overlooking an avenue, was tenanted by Mr. and Mrs. Rockharrt, the next one was occupied by Cora Haught, the third room was the private parlor of the suite, the fourth room was that of Mrs. Stillwater, and the fifth, and largest, was a double-bedded room, tenanted jointly by Mr. Fabian and Mr. Clarence. All these rooms had doors communicating with each other, and also with the corridor, all or any of which could be left open or made fast at discretion.

Cora's room, between her grandparents' bed-chamber and their private parlor, was the smallest, the closest and the warmest of the suite. That September night was sultry and stifling. Scarcely a breath of air came from without.

The girl could not sleep for the heat. Anathematizing her room as a "black hole" of Calcutta, she lay tossing from side to side, and listening for the hourly strokes of a neighboring clock, and praying for the night to be over. She heard that clock strike eleven, twelve, one.

At length Cora thought that she would go into the private parlor next her own room to get a breath of fresh air. She felt sure that there she should be perfectly safe from intrusion, as she knew that the door leading from the parlor into the corridor was secured from within by a strong bolt, and the other two doors led, the one into her own little room, and the other, on the opposite side, into Mrs. Stillwater's. So that she would be as secluded as in her own chamber.

She slipped on a thin, dark blue silk dressing gown, thrust her feet in slippers, opened the door and passed into the parlor.

The room was very dark, still and cool. The two side windows overlooking the alley were open, and a rising breeze from the harbor blew in. Cora went and sat down in an easy chair in the angle of the corner between an open side window and her own room door.

The room was pitch dark. The darkness, the coolness, and the stillness were all so soothing and refreshing to the girl's heated and excited nerves that she sank back in her high, cushioned chair and dozed off into sleep—into such a deep and dreamless sleep that she knew nothing until she was awakened, or rather only half awakened, by the sound of a key turning in a lock and a door creaking upon its hinges. The sound seemed to come from the direction of Mrs. Stillwater's room; but Cora was still half asleep, and almost unconscious of her whereabouts. As in a dream, she heard some one tiptoe slowly across and jar a chair in the deep darkness. She heard the bolt of the door leading into the corridor grate as it was slipped back. This awakened her thoroughly. She was about to call out:

"Who is there?"

Then a voice that she recognized even in its low, whispering tones spoke and arrested the words on her lips. It said:

"Fabe! Fabe! is that you?"

"Yes. Is all quiet?"

"Yes; and has been so for hours. Come in. Pass around, feeling by the wall until you reach the sofa. If you attempt to cross the room, you may strike a chair or table and make a noise, as I did."

The unseen man cautiously crept around by the wall, feeling his way, but occasionally striking and jarring a picture frame or looking glass as he passed, and muttering good-humored little growls of deprecation, and finally making the sofa creak as he struck and sat heavily down upon it.

Cora was wide awake now, and quite cognizant of the identity of the invisible persons in the room as that of Mr. Fabian Rockharrt and Mrs. Rose Stillwater.

It did not once occur to the girl that she was doing any wrong in remaining there, in the parlor common to the whole party. Surprise and wonder held her spellbound in her obscure seat.

The sofa on which they sat was between the two windows. She reclined in the easy chair in the corner between the right-hand window and the door of her room. She was so near them that she might have touched the sofa by stretching out her hand.

Without dreaming of harm, she overheard their conversation.

Mr. Fabian was the first to speak.

"I say, Rose," he began, "I have a deuce of a hard time to get a tete-a-tete with you. This is the first we have had for two months."

"And we could not have had this but for the accidental arrangement of these convenient rooms," she whispered.

"Exactly. We must arrange for future plans to-night. I understand that the old folks have been trying to persuade you to return home with us?"

"Yes; but, of course, I shall not go."

"Of course not; but how did you get out of it?"

"Oh, by raising the old gentleman."

"Do you mean the—the—the—de—"

"Certainly not. I mean my husband, the gallant Captain Stillwater, of the East Indiaman Queen of Sheba, who has been spoken within three days' sail of port, and is expected here every hour. So that, you see, I must remain here to welcome my husband. It is my sacred duty," said the woman demurely.

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Mr. Fabian, in a low, half-suppressed chuckle.

"Hush! Oh, be careful! You will be heard!" murmured Rose Stillwater, in a frightened whisper.

"What! at this hour? Why, everybody in this suite is in his or her deepest sleep. I say, Rosebud."

"What?"

"His Majesty the King of the Cumberland Mines has been in a demoniac humor ever since he learned that you were not coming home with us."

"I know it, and I am very sorry for it, especially on his family's account, but I could not help it."

"Certainly not. It would have been inconvenient and embarrassing. Look here, Rosalie."

"Well?"

"If the aged monarch was not such a perfect dragon of truth, honesty and fidelity, and all the cast-iron virtues, I should think that he was over head and ears in love with you."

"Nonsense, Fabian! Mr. Rockharrt is old enough to be my grandfather, and his hair is quite gray."

"If he were old enough to be your great-grandfather, and his hair was quite white, it need make no difference in that respect, my dear. The fires of Mt. Hecla burn beneath eternal snows."

"What rubbish you are talking, Fabian! But—to change the subject—when will my house be ready? I warn you that I will not go back to that brick block on Main Street in your State capital."

"You should not, Rosebella. Your home is finished and furnished; and a lovelier bower of roses cannot be found out of paradise! It is simply perfection, or it will be when you take possession of it."

"Yes; tell me all about it," whispered the lady, eagerly.

"It is a small, elegant villa, situated in the midst of beautiful grounds in a small, sequestered dell, inclosed with wooded hills rising backward into forest-crowned mountains, and watered by many little springs rising among the rocks and running down to empty into a miniature lake that lies shining before the house. It seems to be in the heart of the Cumberlands, in the depth of solitude, yet it is not fifteen minutes' walk by a forest footpath to the railway station at North End."

"What shall we name this little Eden?"

"Rose Bower, and the locality Rose Valley."

"And when may I take possession?"

"Whenever you please. All is prepared and waiting the arrival of Mrs. Stillwater, who has taken the house and engaged the servants through her agent, and who is expected to reside there during the absence of her husband, Captain Stillwater, on long voyages."

"How long are these false appearances to be kept up, and when are our true relations to be announced?"

"Before very long, my sweet!"

"I hate this concealment! I know that I am a favorite with your father and mother, so I cannot see why you have not told them and will not tell them."

"Now, Rosamunda, don't be a little idiot! Be a little angel, as you always have been! Am I not doing everything I can for your comfort and happiness, only asking you in turn to be faithful and patient until I can make you my wife before the whole world? My father does not like the idea of my marrying—anybody! If he knew we were engaged to each other, he would never forgive me, and that means he would cut me off from all share in the patrimony. And we could not afford to lose that! Let me tell you a secret, Rose. Though our firm does business under the name 'Rockharrt & Sons,' yet 'Sons' have a merely nominal interest in the works while Rockharrt lives. So you see, I have very little of my own, and if the autocrat should learn, even by our own confession, that we had been—been—been—concealing our engagement from him, he would never forgive either of us."

At this moment a step was heard passing along the corridor outside.

It caused the two unseen inmates of the parlor to shrink into silence, and even when it had passed out of hearing it caused them, in renewing their conversation, to speak only in the lowest tones, so that Cora could no longer catch a word of their speech.

She would before this have risen and retired to her own room; but she was afraid of making a noise, and consequently causing a scene.

Were those two, her Uncle Fabian and Mrs. Stillwater, only secretly engaged? Secretly engaged? But whoever heard of a betrothed lover providing a home for his betrothed bride to live in before marriage! And then, again, was her Uncle Fabian really so dependent on his father as he had represented to Rose? Cora had always understood that he had a quarter share in the great business, and that Clarence had an eighth. And, worse than all, had they been so deceived as to the condition of Rose that, if she was Mrs. Stillwater at all, she was the widow and not the wife of Captain Stillwater, since she was engaged to be married, if not already married, to Mr. Fabian Rockharrt?

Altogether the affair seemed a blinding and confusing tissue of falsehood and deception that amazed and repulsed the mind of the girl.

Bewildered by the mystery, lulled by the hum of voices whose words she could not distinguish, fanned by the breeze from the harbor, and calmed by the darkness, the wearied girl sank back into her resting chair, closed her eyes, and lost the sequence of her thoughts in dreams—from which she presently sank into dreamless sleep, which lasted until she was awakened by the noise of the hotel servants moving about on their morning duties, opening windows, rapping at doors to call up travelers for early trains, dragging along trunks, and so on.

At breakfast Cora watched Mr. Fabian and Rose, because she could not help doing so, and she certainly discovered signs of a secret understanding between them—signs so slight that they would have been unnoticed by any one who had not the key to the mystery. But how sickening and depressing was all this! Rose Flowers, or Stillwater, or Rockharrt—whichever name she could legally claim—was a fraud. Mr. Fabian Rockharrt was another fraud. Those two were secretly engaged or secretly married.

After breakfast the party were ready for their journey Then came the leave-taking.

Every one, except Cora Haught, shook hands warmly with Rose Stillwater. Mrs. Rockharrt embraced and kissed her fondly, and renewed and pressed her invitation to the beauty to come and make a long visit.

Rose put her arms around the old lady's neck and clung to her, and, with tearful eyes and trembling tones and loving words, assured her that she would fly to Rockhold on the first possible opportunity, and, after many caresses, she reluctantly turned away and went toward Cora.

The girl had lowered her blue veil, and tied it mask-like over her face, in a way that women often do, but which Cora never did, except on this occasion, when she wished to evade the sure to be offered kiss of Rose Stillwater.

But Rose embraced her strongly and kissed her through the veil, endearments which the young girl could not repel without attracting attention, but which she only endured and did not return.

The party reached Rockhold on the evening of the second day's travel.

Old Aaron Rockharrt found himself so weary of traveling that he announced his intention of remaining in Rockhold for the entire winter, nor leaving it even to go to his town house for a few weeks during the session of the legislature.

Cora was disappointed. She longed to go to Washington for the season—to go into company, to go to balls and parties, concerts and operas, to see new people and make new friends, perhaps to attract new admirers; and as she was now nineteen years of age, she need not be too severely criticised for so natural an aspiration.

Mr. Fabian was the most zealous and active member of the firm. He would go to North End and stay two days at a time to be near his scene of duty.

Time passed, but Rose Stillwater did not make her promised visit.

Old Aaron often referred to it, and worried his wife to write to her and remind her of her promise. The old lady always complied with her husband's requirements, and wrote pressing letters; but the beauty always wrote back excusing herself on the ground of "the captain's" many engagements, which confined him to the ship and her to his side.

So time passed, and nearly another year went by. The Rockharrts were still at Rockhold.

A political crisis was at hand—the election for the State legislature.

The candidate for representative of the liberal party in that election district was Regulas Rothsay.

The election day came at length, as anxious a day for Cora Haught as for any one.

It was a grand success, a glorious triumph for the printer boy and for the workingmen's cause as well. Rule Rothsay was elected representative for his district in the State legislature by an overwhelming majority.

Cora was destined to a joyful surprise the next morning, when the domestic autocrat suddenly announced:

"I shall take the family to my town house on the first of next week. My last bill, which was defeated last year, may be passed this session."

Cora now, on the Irishman's principle of pulling the pig backward if you want him to go forward, ventured on the assurance of counseling her grandfather by saying:

"I would not approach Mr. Rothsay on the subject of this bill, if I were you, sir."

"But you are not I, miss!" exclaimed the old man, opening his eyes wide to stare her down. "And the new man is the very one to whom I shall first speak. He is the most proper person to present the bill. He represents my own district. His election is largely due to the men in my own employ. I am surprised that you should presume to advise upon matters of which you can know nothing whatever."

Cora bowed to the rebuke, but did not mind it in the least, since now she felt sure of meeting Rule Rothsay in town.

On the following Monday the Rockharrts went to town.

Mr. Rockharrt met and compared notes with some of the lobbyists.

One veteran lobbyist gave him what he called the key to the riddle of success.

"You appealed to reason and conscience!" said he. "My dear sir, you should have appealed to their stomachs and pockets. You should have given them epicurean feasts, and put money in your 'purse' to be transferred to theirs!"

"Bribery and corruption! I would lose my bill forever! And I would see the legislature—exterminated, before I would pay one cent to get a vote," said the Iron King. And he used a much stronger as well as much shorter word than the one underscored; but let it pass.

As soon as the morning papers announced—among other arrivals—that of the new assemblyman, the Hon. Regulas Rothsay, Aaron Rockharrt sought out the young legislator, and explained that he wished to get a charter for a railroad that he wished to build. The company—all responsible men—had been incorporated some time, but he had never succeeded in getting a charter from the legislature.

Rule saw that the enterprise would be a benefit to the community at large, and especially to the workingmen, the farmers, shop keepers and mechanics; so when he had heard all the old Iron King had to say on the subject, he promptly gave a promise which neither favor, affection nor self-interest could ever have won from him, but which reason, conscience and the public good constrained him to give—namely, to present the petition for the charter to the assembly, and to support it with all his might.

After this Regulas Rothsay came often and more often, until at length he passed every evening with the Rockharrts when they were at home. Old Aaron Rockharrt esteemed him as he esteemed very, very few of his fellow creatures. Mrs. Rockharrt really loved him. Mr. Fabian and Mr. Clarence liked him. Cora admired and honored him. He was made so welcome in the family circle that he felt himself quite at home among them.

On the second of January the first business taken up was that of the bill to charter the projected railroad. It was presented by Mr. Rothsay, and referred to the proper committee.

The charter bill was reported with certain amendments, sent back again and reported again, with modified amendments, laid on the table, taken up and generally tormented for ten days, and then passed by a small majority.

Rule had conscientiously done his best, and this was the result: Old Aaron Rockharrt thanked him stiffly.

"You have worked it through, sir! No one but yourself could have done it! And it is a wonder that even you could do so with such a set of pig-headed rascals as our assemblymen. And now, will it pass the senate?"

"I believe it will, Mr. Rockharrt. I have been speaking to many of the senators, and find them well disposed toward it," said Rule.

To be brief, the bill was soon taken up by the senate; and after much the same treatment it had received in the assembly, it came safely through the ordeal, and was passed—again by a small majority.

Old Aaron Rockharrt was triumphant, in his sullen, dogged and undemonstrative way.

But having gained his ends, for which alone he had come to the city, he ordered his family to pack up and be ready to leave town for Rockhold the next day but one.

But the worst was to come.

When all the household were assembled at luncheon, he shot his last bolt.

"Now look you here, all of you! We are going to Rockhold to-morrow. I do not wish to have any company there. I am tired of company! I hate company! I am going to the country to get rid of company. So see that you do not, any of you, invite any one to visit us."

The next morning the Rockharrt family left town for North End, where they arrived early in the afternoon.

A monotonous season followed, at least for the two ladies, who led a very secluded life at the dreary old stone house on the mountain side.

Winter, spring, summer and autumn crept slowly away in, the lonely dwelling. In the last days of November he announced to his family, with the usual suddenness of his peremptory will, that he should go to Washington City for the winter, taking with him his wife and granddaughter, and leaving his two sons in charge of the works, and that they would be joined in Washington at Christmas by his grandson, for whom he was about to apply for admission into the military academy at West Point.

Regulas called frequently, and his attentions to Cora were marked.

The Rockharrt party went to Washington on the first of December, and took possession of the suite of rooms previously engaged for them at one of the large West End hotels.

One morning, when Rule was out of the way, being on a canvassing round with Mr. Rockharrt among such members of Congress as had remained in the city, Sylvan suddenly asked his sister:

"Cora, what's to make the pot boil?"

"What do you mean?" inquired the young lady, looking up from "Bleak House," which she was reading.

"Who's to get the grub?"

"I—don't understand you."

"Oh, yes, you do. What are you and Rothsay to live on after you are married? He is poor as a church mouse, and you are not much richer. You are reported to be an heiress and all that, but you know very well that you cannot touch a cent of your money until you are twenty-five years old, and not even then if you have married in the interim without our great Mogul's consent. Such are the wise provisions of our father's will. Now then, when you and Rule are married, what is to make the pot boil?"

"There is no question of marriage between Mr. Rothsay and myself," replied Cora, with a fine assumption of dignity, which was, however, quite, lost on Sylvan, who favored her with a broad stare and then exclaimed:

"No question of marriage between you? My stars and garters! then there ought to be, for you are both carrying on at a—at a—at a most tremendous rate!"

Cora took up her book and walked out of the room in stately displeasure.

No; there had been no question of marriage between them; no spoken question, at least, up to this day.

This was true to-day, but it was not true on the following day, when Cora and Rule, being alone in the parlor, fell into thoughtful silence, neither knowing exactly why.

This was broken at last by Rule.

"Cora, will you look at me, dear?"

She raised her eyes and meet his fixed full and tenderly on hers.

"Cora, I think that you and I have understood each other a long time, too long a time for the reserve we have practiced. My dear, will you now share the poverty of a poor man who loves you with all his heart, or will you wait for that man until he shall have made a home and position more worthy of you? Speak, my love, or if you prefer, take some time to think of this. My fate is in your hands."

These were calm words, uttered with much, very much, self-restraint; yet eyes and voice could not be so perfectly controlled as language was, and these spoke eloquently of the man's adoration of the woman.

She put her hand in his large, rough palm—the palm inherited from many generations of hard workers—where it lay like a white kernel in a brown shell, and she answered quietly, with controlled emotion:

"Rule, I would rather come to you now forever, and share your life, however hard, and help your work, however difficult, than part from you again; or, if this happiness is not for us now, I would wait for years—I would wait for you forever."

"God bless you! God bless you, my dear! my dear! But is not this in your own choice, Cora?"

"No; it is in my grandfather's."

"You are of age, dear."

"Yes. But not because I am of age would I disobey his will. He has always done his duty by me faithfully. I must do mine by him. He is old now. I must not oppose him. He may consent to our union at once, for you are a very great favorite with him. But his will must be consulted."

"Of course, dear. I meant to speak to Mr. Rockharrt after speaking to you."

"And to abide by his wishes, Rule?"

"If I must. But I would rather abide by yours only, since you are of age," said the young man.

And what more was spoken need not be repeated here. The next day Rule Rothsay called early, and asked to see Mr. Rockharrt.

"Ah! Ah! You come to tell me that you have seen Hunter, I suppose? How does he stand affected toward my bill?" exclaimed the Iron King, pointing to one chair for his guest and dropping into another himself.

"The truth is, Mr. Rockharrt, I came to see you on quite another matter—"

The young man paused. The old man looked attentive and curious.

"It is a matter of the deepest interest to me—"

Again Rule paused, for Mr. Rockharrt was looking at him with bent brows, staring eyes, and bristling iron gray hair and beard, or hair and beard that seemed to bristle.

"Your granddaughter—" began Rule. "Your granddaughter has made me very happy by consenting to become my wife, with your approbation," calmly replied Rule.

"Oh!" exclaimed the old man, in a peculiar tone, between surprise and derision. "And so you have come to ask my consent to your marriage with my granddaughter?"

"If you please, Mr. Rockharrt."

"And so that is the reason why you worked so hard to get my railroad bill through the legislature. Well, I always believed that every man had his price; but I thought you were the exception to the general rule. I thought you were not for sale. But it seems that I was mistaken, and that you were for sale, and set a pretty high price upon yourself, too—the hand of my granddaughter!"

The young man was not ill-tempered or irritable. Perfectly conscious of his own sound integrity, he was unmoved by this taunt; and he answered with quiet dignity:

"If you will reflect for a moment, Mr. Rockharrt, you will know that your charge is untrue and impossible, and you will recall it. I took up your railroad bill because I saw that its provisions would be beneficial to the small towns, tradesmen and farmers all along the proposed line—interests that many railroads neglect, to the ruin of parties most concerned. And I took up this cause before I had ever met your granddaughter since her childhood or as a woman."

"That is true. Well, well, the selfish and mercenary character of the men, and women, too, that I meet in this world has made me, perhaps, too suspicious of all men's motives," said the champion egotist of the world, speaking with the air of the great king condescending to an apology—if his answer could be called an apology.

Rule accepted it as such. He knew it was as near to a concession as the despot could come. He bowed in silence.

"And so you want my granddaughter, do you?" demanded the old man.

"Yes, sir; as the greatest good that you, or the world, or heaven, could bestow on me," earnestly replied the suitor.

"Rubbish! Don't talk like an idiot! How do you propose to support her?"

"By the labor of my brain and hands," gravely and confidently replied Rule.

"Worse rubbish than the other! How much a year does the labor of your brain and hands bring you in?—not enough to keep yourself in comfort! And you would bring my granddaughter down to divide that insufficient income with you"

"My income would provide us both with modest comforts," replied Rule.

"I think your ideas and our ideas of comfort may differ importantly. Now see here, Mr. Rothsay, I do believe you to be a true, honest, straightforward man; I believe you are attracted to Cora by a sincere preference for herself, irrespective of her prospects; and you are a rising man. Wait a year or two, or three. Take a few steps higher on the ladder of rank and fame, and then come and ask me for my granddaughter's hand, and if you are both of the same mind, I will give it to you. There!"

"Mr. Rockharrt—" began Rule.

"There, there, there! I will not even hear of an engagement until that time shall arrive. How do I know how you will pass through the ordeal of a political career, or into what bad company, evil habits, riotous living, dissipation, drunkenness, bribery and corruption, embezzlements, ruin and disgrace you may not be tempted?"

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Rule.

"Amen! I believe you will stand the test, but I have seen too many brilliant and aspiring young politicians go up like a rocket and come down a burnt stick, to be very sure of any man in the same circumstances."

"But, Mr. Rockharrt, such men were most probably brought up in wealth and luxury. They were not trained, perhaps, as I have been, in the hard but wholesome school of labor and self-denial."

"There may be something in that; but if you advance it as an argument for me to change my mind in this matter of a prudent delay, it is thrown away upon me. You should know me well enough to know that I never change my mind."

Rule did know it. But he answered earnestly:

"I accept your conditions, Mr. Rockharrt. I will wait and work as long for Cora as Jacob did for Rachel, if necessary. Cora has been the inspiration of all that I have wrought, endured and achieved—and she was all that to me long before I dreamed of aspiring to her hand in marriage, and she will be as long as we both shall live in this world or the world to come."

Rule bowed and left. He at once recounted to Cora the interview and the condition imposed on him.

When the short season ended, and the city was tilted upside down and emptied like a bucket of half its contents, the Rockharrts went with the rest.

Old Aaron was in his very worst fit of sullen ferocity. He had not been able to get a charter for clearing out the channel of the Cumberland River (another pet project of his), or even to form a company strong enough to undertake the enterprise.

After a while, out of restlessness, he started with his wife, granddaughter and grandson for a tour to the Northern Pacific Coast. He spent some time in traveling through that region of country, and returned East.

He stopped at West Point to leave Sylvan Haught, who had successfully passed his examination and received his appointment at the military academy.

Then he took his womenkind home to Rockhold.

A few days later young Rothsay was elected senator.

Some weeks later Rothsay again pressed his suit on the attention of Mr. Rockharrt.

But the old man was adamant.

"No, sir, no! You must have a firmer foundation to build upon than the fickle favor of the public. Wait a year or two longer. Let us see whether your success is to be permanent."

"But," urged Rule, "my chosen bride is twenty-three years of age, and I am twenty-seven. Time is flying."

"What has that got to do with the question? If you were to marry this morning, would that stop the flight of time? Would not time fly just as fast as ever? Suppose you should not marry for two years? My granddaughter would then be twenty-five and you thirty, and many wise philosophers think that such are the relative ages at which man and woman should marry. Then the Iron King cast a thunderbolt. He said:

"I am going to take my girl on a trip to Europe this summer. When we return, it will be time enough to talk about marriage."

Rule bowed a reluctant admission to this mandate. He knew well that argument would be thrown away upon the Iron King, and he knew that, even if he himself were tempted to try to persuade Cora to marry him at present, she would not do so in opposition to her grandfather's will.

Mr. Rockharrt had not as yet said one word to his family concerning his intended trip to Europe, although he had been thinking of it, and laying his plans, and making his arrangements, preparatory to the voyage, all the winter.

So it was with amazement that Cora first heard of the matter from Rule Rothsay, who came to her to report the result of his last attempt to gain the consent of the old gentleman to his marriage with the granddaughter.

A few days later the family despot announced to his subjects that he should start for Europe in two weeks, taking his wife and granddaughter with him, and leaving his two sons in charge of the works.

Active preparations went on for the voyage. Mr. Rockharrt went every day to the works to lay out plans for the summer to be completed during his absence.

Mrs. Rockharrt and Cora had few arrangements to make, for the autocrat had warned them that they were to take only sufficient for the voyage, as they could buy whatever they needed on the other side.

A few days before they left Rockhold, Rule Rothsay came uninvited to visit his beloved Cora.

Mr. Rockharrt happened to be the first to see him, and received him well.

When they were seated, Rule said:

"You refused to allow me to marry your granddaughter at present, and—"

"Now begin all that over again, Rothsay. I said that in two years you can marry her and take her fortune, if you both choose, whether I like it or not. That is all."

"Do you, however, sanction our engagement, Mr. Rockharrt? Shall your granddaughter and myself be betrothed, openly betrothed, so that all may know our mutual relations, before the ocean divides us? That is what I would know now. That is what I have come down here to ask."

The old man ruminated for a few moments, and then answered:

"Well, yes; you may be, with the understanding that you will wait to marry for two years longer. These two years will be a probation to both. If you fulfill the promise of your youth, and rise to the position that you can, if you will, attain, and if you remain faithful to her, and if she remains true to you, you may then marry. With all my heart I shall wish you well. But if either of you fail in truth and fidelity, the defaulting one, whether it be you or she, shall never look me in the face again," concluded the Iron King.

Rule's eyes lighted up with the fire of love and faith. He seized the hand of the old man and shook it warmly, saying:

"You have made me very happy by your words, Mr. Rockharrt, and I assure you, by all my hopes on earth or in heaven, that whatever may change in time or eternity, my heart will never vary a hair's breadth from its fidelity to its queen."

"I believe you, or rather I believe you think so."

A kind impulse, a rare one, moved the old man. Perhaps he reflected that these two young people might, have defied him and married without his consent had they pleased to do so; but they had submitted themselves to his will, and as his favorite motto told him that "Government is maintained by reward and punishment," he may have reasoned that this was an occasion for reward. So he said to the young man, who had risen, and was standing before him:

"Rothsay, we shall leave here for New York on Tuesday, to sail by the Saturday's steamer for Liverpool. If your engagements admit of it, and if you would like to spend the intervening time near Cora, we should be pleased to have you stay here."

Rule spent three happy days at Rockhold, and in the evening of the third day, the evening before they were to leave for Europe, he asked Mr. Rockharrt if he might have the privilege of attending the travelers to the seaport, and seeing them off by the steamer.

The Iron King found no objection to this plan. Mrs. Rockharrt was pleased, and Cora was delighted with it.

Accordingly, on the next morning, they left Rockhold for New York, where they arrived on the evening of the next day.

And on Saturday morning they went on board the steamer Persia, bound for Liverpool.

They bade good-by to Regulas Rothsay, on the deck, at the last moment.

The signal gun was fired, and our party sailed away to a new life, in which the faith of a woman was to be tempted and lost, and the career of a man was to be wrecked.

It was in the third year of their absence that they returned from the Continent to England. They reached London in February, in time to see the grand pageant of the queen opening parliament. After which they attended the first royal drawing room of the season, on which occasion Mrs. Rockharrt and Miss Haught were presented to her Majesty by the wife of the American minister.

Cora Haught was a new beauty and a new social sensation. She was, indeed, more beautiful than she had been when she left America. A richly colored Southern brunette was unique among British blondes. It was for this, perhaps, she was so much admired.

Moreover, she was reported to be the only descendant of her grandfather and the sole heiress of his fabulous wealth.

There was at this time another debutant in society, a young man, the Duke of Cumbervale, who had lately reached his majority and come into his estates, or what was left of them—an ancient castle and a few barren acres in Northumberland, an old hall and a few acres in Sussex, and a town house in London; but his title was an historical one. His person was handsome, his manners attractive, and his mind highly cultivated.

Cora met him first at the queen's drawing room, and afterward at every ball and party to which she went.

It was, perhaps, natural—very natural—that the handsome blonde man should be attracted by the beautiful brunette woman, without thought of the supposed fortune that might have redeemed his mortgaged estates and supported his distinguished title. But why should the betrothed of Regulas Rothsay have been fascinated by this elegant English aristocrat?

Surely no two men were ever more diametrically opposite than the American printer and the English duke.

Regulas Rothsay was tall, muscular, and robust, with large feet and hands, inherited from many generations of hard-working forefathers. His movements were clumsy; his manners were awkward, except when he was inspired by some grand thought or tender sympathy, when his whole person and appearance became transfigured. His sole enduring charms were his beautiful eyes and melodious voice.

The Duke of Cumbervale was slight and elegant in form, with small, perfectly shaped hands and feet—derived from a long line of idle and useless ancestors—finely cut Grecian profile, pure, clear, white skin, fine, silken, pale yellow hair and mustache, calm blue eyes, graceful movements, and refined manners.

Regulas Rothsay was a man of the people, who did not know any ancestry behind his laboring father, who could not have told the names of his grandparents.

The Duke of Cumbervale was descended from eight generations of noblemen.

Cora Haught saw and felt this contrast between the two men, so opposite in birth, rank, person, manner, character, and cultivation.

Not all at once could she become an apostate to her faith, pledged to Rule. But, in truth, she had always loved him more as a sister loves a dear brother than as a maiden loves her betrothed husband. She had not seen him for three years. And she had seen so much since they had parted! In truth, his image had grown dim in her imagination.

She wrote to him briefly from London that her engagements were so numerous as to preclude the possibility of her writing much, but that at the end of the London season they expected to return home. This was before she had—