Wives and Widows; or, The Broken Life

by Ann S. Stephens

Mr. Lee and the widow rode out once or twice without Jessie, who, feeling a little hurt for her mother's sake, decided to remain at home and sit with the gentle invalid. I do not know that she observed it, but there certainly was very little entreaty used to induce her to join them. Indeed, upon the third morning nothing was said on the subject; Jessie was not even invited.

One day, just after Mr. Lee and his guest had ridden from the door, Mr. Lawrence called. He had seen them from a distance, he said, and came to inquire after Miss Lee's health. The flood of crimson that rushed over Jessie's face, when I told her this, made my heart beat heavily. She arose, and went down, avoiding my anxious glance as she passed me.

The doors were all open, but I heard no voices in the drawing-room; they must have been talking very low: what did that portend between two persons perfectly alone? So anxious had I become that it seemed to me as if some harm were intended our Jessie among these strange people. She had never seemed really happy since their advent among us. Indeed, there had been little of comfort for any one.

What passed between Jessie and Lawrence I learned afterward. But only so far as a young girl can force herself to speak of things pertaining to her affections. One thing is certain: when she came up-stairs, after his departure, a look of uncertain joy pervaded her face, and she breathed quickly. I asked no questions, and was not surprised that she said little about the interview. After that day Jessie's manner became more elastic; and from some words that escaped, I am confident that, up to this time, she had fancied Lawrence engaged to Mrs. Dennison; or, at the least, ready at any moment to assume that position. Indeed, the widow had told her as much.

The next day Jessie was invited to join Mr. Lee and his guest in their ride; but she refused it coldly, nay, almost haughtily. Her father, for the first time in his life, seemed really angry with her. He said nothing, however, but rode forth with a flush on his brow.

Again Mr. Lawrence called, or would have called, but that he saw Jessie wandering off toward the pine woods, and followed her. I saw them sitting a long time on a garden-chair stationed on the skirts of the grove, but said nothing to any one, not even to herself when she came down the hill, alone, with a light in her eyes that I had never seen there before.

I think Lawrence must have made five or six of these morning visits before they were suspected by any one in the house. Cora was generally busy in her mistress's room all the forenoon, and Lottie took the occasion of Mrs. Dennison's absence to sit with loving watchfulness by our invalid, only too happy if a low word or patient smile rewarded her devotion. But it came out at last.

One day I went suddenly upon the terrace platform, and found Cora standing close by one of the drawing-room windows, with her shoulder against the framework. The blind swinging open concealed her from any person within; and the position she maintained, while sorting the shades from some skeins of worsted that she held, was that of careless rest. She moved indolently, and sauntered away on seeing me; but it was with a heavy, sullen manner, as if she had been unwarrantably disturbed. I looked into the sitting-room in passing, and, as I expected, Lawrence and Jessie were sitting on a sofa close to that window.

Mrs. Dennison was in splendid spirits when she came back from her ride that day. There was something triumphant in her step which put one in mind of some handsome Amazon returning from battle. She leaned heavily on Mr. Lee, as he lifted her from the saddle; nay, I am certain that she rested against him a moment longer than was necessary.

Jessie was standing near me, but noticed none of these things. Noble girl, she was never on the lookout for evil. Her upright mind tinted everything with its own pure hues.