CHAPTER XVI.
THE OATH IN THE TOWER OF TORONTO UNIVERSITY.
"Yes, dear, draw over your rocker, he will not return, and since you are willing, I shall pour my griefs into the lap of your mind; seeking, as you say, to lessen the dead weight on my own.
"Just about this time last year, not so late though, for the trees were lovely in tints of deep orange and crimson, with the brown of the oak. Our beautiful suburbs, with the Queen's Park, looking like huge bouquets in the hands of Dame Nature; you know my passion for scenery, Ella. One day—a bright and glorious day, it had been—the blue sky, almost out of sight, it was so uplifted; a day sufficient to raise one's spirits as by some powerful stimulant, I was returning from town to my modest quarters (not here you know, dear), about four p.m., through the park; when, Mr. Cobbe overtaking me, suggested our going up into the tower of the Toronto University to enjoy the view. I consented, knowing that the slanting beams of the sinking sun would kiss good-night to the tree-tops, lighting them with additional loveliness. We entered the grandly beautiful building, the janitor, unlocking the door to the tower, reminding us of the rule, "keys turned at five." Up, and ever upwards, the spiral stairway, making one dizzy in the ascent; at length, the top is reached; and, oh! the view, Ella, was more than beautiful. My eyes only rested with a passing glance at the handsome villas skirting the park, ever returning to dwell on the superb mass of color in the trees; the sun seeming to linger lovingly while photographing their shadows upon the grass.
"I sat silent, or nearly so, for some time, when somehow the very air seemed full of such quiet, solemn grandeur, that thought becoming active, travelled in and about by-gone scenes and faces, bringing tears to my eyes, as a strange fit of loneliness came upon me.
"I was just in the mood to say yes, to a proposal to link my life with another, when Philip Cobbe pleaded his suit, saying, 'In a home together we would be companions each for the other; that we would be happier in a little home together than in the cold formality of a boarding-house; that in our short acquaintance, we knew each other as well as people who had a life-long knowledge of each other; that we were each too warm-hearted to be content alone; that the long, dark autumn was coming on, in which we would be all in all to each other; that his love for me filled his heart.'
"Then, Ella, he was really eloquent in his description of a little home together—a picture particularly inviting to me in my loneliness and in my despondent mood.
"I had been, as you know, under fortune's wheel, season after season, in the ice-bound winter, in the scorching sun of summer; sometimes in doubt in which I suffered most. With a purse as 'trash,' society turned a cold shoulder to me. Summer friends did not see me; my real friends at a distance—yourselves among the foremost—could not prevail upon me to visit them, as I knew the only sin society refuses to pardon is an out-at-elbows gown; and I was too proud to accept gifts I could not repay.
"Yet, still I hesitated in accepting Philip's offer, which seemed tempting in its home view; but would it be wise for me to marry him, simply because my life was a lonely one? I was in the act of telling him, 'I would sleep on it, and give him his answer, to-morrow,' when saying so, we were startled by the city clocks and bells striking, ringing and chiming six o'clock! Ella, Ella, my heart with fright seemed to stop beating; even yet a nervous tremor runs through me when I recall that moment; it was too true, on Philip consulting his watch, really, in the gloaming; for the sun was then sinking to rest at about five-thirty.
"'Great Heavens!' I cried; 'the tower door will be locked!' At this, can you credit it, Ella; the face of my companion grew exultant, as he cried: