CHAPTER IX. WORDS OF GOOD CHEER
When the key-note of some long-sought mystery has sounded, there is a strange fascination in going over and over the theme, now wondering why we had not been more struck by this or that fact, how we could have overlooked the importance of this incident or that coincidence. Trivial events come up to memory as missing links in the chain of proof, and small circumstances and chance words are brought up to fill the measure of complete conviction.
It was thus that this party of four sat almost till daybreak talking over the past. Each had some era to speak of as especially his own. Winthrop could tell of Godfrey Hawke when he came a young man to the States, and married his niece, the belle and the heiress of her native city. He remembered all the praises bestowed upon the young Englishman's manners and accomplishments, together with the graver forebodings of others, who had remarked his inordinate love of play and his indifference as to the company in which he indulged it. Next came the doctor, with his recollections of the man broken down by dissipation and excess, and at last dying of poison. There was but little, indeed, to recall the handsome Godfrey Hawke in the attenuated figure and distorted countenance of that miserable debauchee; but there were chance traits of manner that brought up the man to Winthrop's mind. There were also on the scene his beautiful wife, at that time in the fulness of her beauty. What a charm of gentleness, too, did she possess!—how meekly and patiently did she bear herself under provocations that seemed too great for human endurance! The doctor had to own that she actually forfeited some of his sympathy by the impression she gave him of being one deficient in a nice sense of self-esteem, and wanting in that element of resistance without which there is no real dignity of nature. “She seemed to me,” said he, “too craven, too abject by half,—one of those who are born to be the subject of a tyranny, and who, in their very submission, appear to court the wanton cruelty of an 'oppressor'. How rightly I read her!” cried he; “how truly I deciphered the inscription on her heart! and yet, I'll be sworn, no man living could have detected under that mask of gentleness this woman of long-pondering craft, this deeply designing plotter!”
“Quackinboss and I saw her under another aspect,” said Alfred. “She was depressed and sad, but only so much so as gave an added charm to the grace of her captivations, and made her every effort to please appear somewhat of a sacrifice of herself for those around her.”
“Well, ain't it strange, gentlemen,” said Quackinboss, “but it's a fact, she never deceived me? I remember the day of our visit at Marlia; after that adventure with the dog she fainted, and I took her up in my arms and carried her to the house. I thought, by course, she was insensible. Not a bit of it; she rallied enough to open her eyes, and give me one of the most wonderful looks ever I see in my life. It was just like saying, 'Shaver, are you quite certain that you have n't got in your arms one of the loveliest creatures as ever was formed? Are you sure, Shaver Quackinboss, that you are ever to have such another piece of luck as this?' And so certain was I that I heerd these very words in my ear, that I said aloud, 'Darn me pale blue if I don't wish the house was half a mile away!' And the words wasn't well out than she burst out a-laughin',—such a hearty, joyous laugh, too, that I knew in my heart she had neither pain nor ache, and was only a-foxin'. Well, gentlemen, we always had a way of lookin' at each other arter that was quite peculiar; it was sayin', 'Never fear, all's on honor here.' That was, at least, how I meant it, and I have a notion that she understood me as well. I have a strong notion that we understand these women critturs better than you Britishers!”
“You must leave me out of the category of the shrewd ones, however,” said Winthrop. “I saw her but once in my life, and yet I never came away from a visit with the same amount of favorable impression. She met me like an old friend, but at the same time there was a delicacy and reserve about her that seemed to say, 'It is for you to ratify this compact if you like. When you sign the treaty, it is finished.'”
From the discussion of the past they proceeded to the future, upon which all felt that Winthrop could speak with most authority, since he was Clara's kinsman and guardian.
“What do you mean to do by the gal, sir?” asked the Colonel.
“I intend to see her as soon as I can, give her the good news of her accession to fortune, and leave her to choose whether she will come back with me to the States, or would prefer that I should remain with her in Europe.”
“And ain't there any other alternative possible in the case, sir?” asked Quackinboss. “Does n't it strike you as just possible that she might say 'No' to each of these proposals, and fix another one for herself?”