"Oh, how much this is like home!" he exclaimed, when the lateness of the hour compelled him to depart; "how happy, how grateful I am, to meet so kind, so dear a welcome. It warmed my heart, in anticipation, beyond the Atlantic waves. I remembered the maternal kindness that cheered and sustained me in my collegiate probation, and blessed my dawning manhood. I remembered Edith's heavenly music, and Gabriella's."
He had become so excited by the recollections he was clothing in words, that he lost the command of his voice as soon as he mentioned my name. Perhaps the associations connected with it were more powerful than he imagined; but whatever was the cause he stopped abruptly, bowed, and left the room.
Mrs. Linwood followed him into the passage, and I heard her telling him that he must consider Grandison Place his home indeed, for she felt that she had welcomed back another beloved son. She was evidently hurt by the chilling reserve of Ernest's manners, and wished to make up for it by the cordial warmth of her own.
"There goes as fine a youth as ever quickened the pulses of a maiden's heart," said Dr. Harlowe, as Richard's quick steps were heard on the gravel walk; "I am proud of him, we all ought to be proud of him. He is a whole-souled, whole-hearted, right-minded young man, worth a dozen of your fashionable milk-sops. He is a right down splendid fellow. I cannot imagine why this sly little puss was so blind to his merits; but I suppose the greater glory dimmed the less."
Good, excellent Dr. Harlowe! Why was he always saying something to rouse the slumbering serpent in the bosom of Ernest? Slumbering, did I say? Alas! it was already awakened, and watching for its prey. The doctor had the simplicity of a child, but the shrewdness of a man. Had he dreamed of the suffering Ernest's unfortunate temperament caused, he would have blistered his tongue sooner than have given me a moment's pain. He suspected him of jealousy, of the folly, not the madness of jealousy, and mischievously liked to sport with a weakness which he supposed evaporated with the cloud of the brow, or vanished in the lightning of the eye. He little imagined the stormy gust that swept over us after his departure.
"Mother!" exclaimed Ernest, as soon as the doctor had closed the door, in a tone which I had never heard him use to her before, "I will no longer tolerate that man's impertinence and presumption. He never comes here that he does not utter insulting words, which no gentleman should allow in his own house. It is not the first, nor the second, nor the third time that he has insulted me through my wife. His superior age, and your profound respect for him, shall no longer prevent the expression of my indignation. I shall let him know on what terms he ever again darkens this threshold."
"Ernest!" cried his mother, with a look in which indignation and grief struggled for mastery, "do you forget that it is your mother whom you are addressing?—that it is her threshold not yours on which you have laid this withering ban?"
"Had not Dr. Harlowe been your friend, and this house yours, I should have told him my sentiments long since; but while I would not forget my respect as a son, I must remember my dignity as a husband, and I will allow no man to treat my wife with the familiarity he uses, polluting her wedded ears with allusions to her despairing lovers, and endeavoring indirectly to alienate her affections from me."
"Stop, Ernest, you are beside yourself," said Mrs. Linwood, and the mounting color in her face deepened to crimson,—"you shall not thus asperse a good and guileless man. Your insane passion drives you from reason, from honor, and from right. It dwarfs the fair proportions of your mind, and deforms its moral beauty. I have been wrong, sinful, weak, in yielding to your infirmity, and trying by every gentle and persuasive means to lead you into the green pastures and by the still waters of domestic peace. I have counselled Gabriella, when I have seen her young heart breaking under the weight of your suspicions, to bow meekly and let the storm pass over her. But I do so no more. I will tell her to stand firm and undaunted, and breast the tempest. I will stand by her side, and support her in my arms, and shield her with my breast. Come, Gabriella, come, my child; if my son will be unjust, will be insane, I will at least protect you from the consequences of his guilty rashness."
I sprang into her arms that opened to enfold me, and hid my face on her breast. I could not bear to look upon the humiliation of Ernest, who stood like one transfixed by his mother's rebuking glance. I trembled like an aspen, there was something so fearful in the roused indignation of one usually so calm and self-possessed. Edith sunk upon a seat in a passion of tears, and "oh, brother!—oh, mother!" burst through thick-coming sobs from her quivering lips.