LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

to marry in the spring. She would read it in the papers some day, and then – her own blank, empty, aimless life spread before her. She turned suddenly to the man beside her, with something of the look her face had worn last night when she had first heard of Thorndyke's marriage.

      "You are very good," she answered, quite steadily. "I will be your wife if you like."

      "Thank Heaven!" – he said under his breath. "Thank Heaven!"

      Her heart smote her. She was giving him so little – he was giving her so much. He had always been her good, kind, faithful friend, and she had liked him so much. Yes, that was just it, she liked him so well she could never love him. But at least she would be honest.

      "I – I don't care for – I mean I don't love – " she broke down, her eyes fixed on her muff. "Oh, Mr. Gilbert, I do like you, but not like that. I – I know I'm not half good enough ever to marry you."

      He smiled, a smile of great content.

      "You will let me be the judge of that, Norry. You are quite sure you like me?"

      "Oh, yes. I always did, you know, but I never – no never thought you cared for – Oh, dear me! how odd it seems. What will Uncle Reuben say?"

      Mr Gilbert smiled again.

      "Uncle Reuben won't lose his senses with surprise, I fancy. Ah, Norry, Uncle Reuben's eyes are not half a quarter so bright nor so black as yours, but he has seen more than you after all."

      And then all the way home he poured into her pleased listening ear the story of her future life. It sounded like a fairy tale to the country girl. A dazzling vista spread before her, a long life in "marble halls," Brussels carpets, satin upholstery, a grand piano, pictures, books, and new music without end. Silk dresses, diamond ear-rings, the theatres, the opera, a carriage, a waiting-maid – French, if possible – her favorite heroines all had French maids, Long Branch, Newport, balls, dinners – her head swam with the dazzle and delight of it all. Be his wife – of course she would be his wife – to-morrow, if it were practicable.

      But she did not say this, you understand. Her face was all rosy and dimpling and smiling as they drove home; and alas for Richard Gilbert, how little he personally had to do with all that girlish rapture. He saw that well-pleased face, and, like a wise man, asked no useless questions. She was going to be his wife, everything was said in that.

      CHAPTER VI.

      BEFORE THE WEDDING

      The sober March twilight lay low on the snowy earth when the sleigh whirled up to the door. The red firelight shone through the windows, and they could see Aunt Hetty bustling about the kitchen. Neither had spoken for a time, but now Norine turned to him, as she lightly sprang out.

      "Say nothing of this to-night," she said, hurriedly; "wait until to-morrow."

      She was gone before he could answer, and he drove round to the stable. Uncle Reuben was there, and Mr. Gilbert remained with him until Aunt Hetty's voice was heard calling them to supper. The lawyer was standing in the doorway, watching the solemn stars come out, a great silent gravity on his face. But oh, so happy, too – so deeply, unutterably happy.

      The supper table was spread, lamp-light beamed, firelight glowed, and Aunt Hetty awaited them impatient, lest her warm milk biscuits and sugared "flap-jacks" should grow cold.

      Norine stood leaning against the mantel, looking dreamily into the red fire. How pale she was, how strangely grave and thoughtful. Yet not unhappy, surely, for she glanced up in her lover's face with a quick blush and smile, and talked to him shyly throughout supper. Later still she played and sang for him the songs and pieces he liked best, played a game of euchre with him, and if she thought of Laurence Thorndyke, who had taught her the game, Richard Gilbert did not know it.

      "She will learn to love me," he thought. "My pretty, dark-eyed darling! I will love her so much. I will so gratify her in everything. I will be so devoted, in all ways, that she cannot help it. Please Heaven, her life shall be a happy one with me."

      Norine retired early. Her long drive had made her tired and sleepy she said; but she did not go to sleep.

      Moon and stars shone crystal clear, pearly bright. She blew out her lamp, wrapped a shawl about her, and sat down by the window. Weirdly still lay everything, ivory light, ebony shadows, no sound but the rattling of the skeleton trees in the wintry night wind. No living thing was visible far or near. There was only the star-gemmed sky above, the chill, white world below. She could read her heart in the holy hush of the night, and look into the life that was dawning for her, by its solemn light. Richard Gilbert's wife! How strange and unreal that seemed. She liked him very much as she might have liked an indulgent elder brother, but love him – no! She might have deluded herself into thinking so, had Laurence Thorndyke's splendid image never dazzled her. She knew better now – the knowledge had come upon her all at once, transforming her from a child to a woman.

      "If I had never met him," she thought, "I might have been a happy wife, but now! Now can I ever learn to forget him, and to give Mr. Gilbert his place?"

      She covered her face with her hands, alone as she was. Alas for Richard Gilbert! congratulating himself at that very moment on having won for his very own the fairest, the sweetest, the truest of her sex.

      Miss Bourdon sat mournfully musing there until long past bedtime, long past midnight. Moonlight and starlight paled presently, the prospect grew gloomy, the air bitter cold, and shivering and miserable, the girl crept away to bed. Even then she could not sleep – her nerves were all unstrung and on edge. She lay broad awake trying to imagine what her life would be like as Mr. Gilbert's wife. The fairy world of her dreams and her books would open to her. Costly dresses and jewels, a fine house in New York, her carriage and servants, summer travel and winter balls – all this he had promised her. And there in the midst of it all, once again she would meet Laurence Thorndyke. It would be part of the romance, she as the wife, he as the husband of another, and the weak silly heart fluttering under the bedclothes, gave a great bound. Then she remembered that it would be wicked to wish to see him – a sin to be happy in his presence; but do what she would, the hope of meeting him again, was at the bottom of her willingness to become the lawyer's wife.

      When Norine descended to breakfast next morning, she found Mr. Gilbert standing in the open doorway, looking out at the frosty sunshine. He came forward to meet her, his face suddenly radiant.

      "I have been waiting to waylay you," he said, smiling, "I want you to let me tell your uncle to-day."

      "You are in a hurry," Norine answered, rather impatiently.

      "Yes, my darling. Why should I not be? And I return to New York early next week. You say yes – do you not, Norine?"

      She smiled, and gave him her hand. She had said "yes" to a more important proposition, he had been very good to her, why should she not please him?

      "Do as you like, Mr. Gilbert. Tell my uncle if you choose."

      "And if he consents, Norine – as I think he will – when shall I tell him our marriage is to take place? I want it to be soon, my dearest girl, very soon, for I don't feel as though I could live much longer without you. Come, my little wife! name an early day."

      "Oh, I cannot! I don't know when. Next summer some time."

      "That is indefinite," he laughed. "Allow me to be definite. Say early next May."

      "No, no, no! that is too soon – greatly too soon! I couldn't be ready."

      "Then, when? I won't be selfish, but you must be merciful, mademoiselle, and not keep me in suspense too long."

      She laughed her old gay laugh.

      "Patience, monsieur; patience stands chief among the virtues. Will June do – the last?"

      "The first, Norine."

      Aunt Hetty was coming through the hall. Norine darted away.

      "Have it as you will! Don't you want me to help you with breakfast, auntie?"

      Mr. Gilbert smilingly looked after his bright little prize, so soon to be his bright little wife, then turned to Aunt Hetty.

      "Where is your

Скачать книгу