“But,” he added seriously, as they were conversing together concerning his plans—“I have met with so many crosses and disappointments in life, that I cannot expect much for the future. At best, the remainder of my days will be but a staying, and not a cheerful, actual existence.”
Shortly after this conversation Mr. Clyde went out with Mose, and left Hesper at her sewing. She became at length very weary with her monotonous toil; so she took her gipsey hat and strolled away into the woods beyond the old Rolling Mill. After wandering about among the hills and hollows for some time, gathering ferns and wild flowers, she struck at length into the deeply shaded path which led by the side of the brook. She continued musingly on her way, till she came to the great rock where she had talked with Mose, just before he went to sea. Here she seated herself, and gathering up the violets and tender green leaves which grew profusely about her, commenced forming them into a wreath. She became very much interested in her employment, but just as she was giving the finishing touches to her work, she heard the sound of footsteps, and looking along the green pathway, she beheld Mr. Clyde coming towards her. He did not smile when he saw her, and she thought he looked paler and more serious than ever.
“Ah, Hesper!” he said, “I am glad that I have found you at last, for I have received a letter, saying that I must be in the city to-night, therefore, in the course of an hour or so, I shall be on my way.”
“O, I am so sorry!” said Hesper, with the instinctive utterance of an innocent heart. She let the violet wreath fall upon her lap, and gazed up at him as he leaned silently against a tree. The changing light and shadow which came through the green leaved boughs, played fitfully over his countenance. He held his hat in his hand, and had brushed back the masses of dark hair from his high pale brow. His eyes were turned from her, yet she could see in them a look of unutterable sorrow, and around his mouth a quivering expression of anguish, as though he felt obliged to compress his lips firmly, to keep back a rush of contending emotions. She could not behold that expression unmoved. Her kindly heart beat in sympathy, and her eyes filled with tears. He turned and looked at her one moment, and then threw himself upon the grass beside her.
“Hesper, my sweet sister,” he said, “I cannot leave you without telling you how much I have to thank you for—more than you can realize in yourself—nay, nay, do not shrink from me like a frightened dove. I am not quite an ice-berg, though oftentimes my cold exterior would make you think so. Circumstances have made me what I am, and given me this mask of formality, which I wear before the world, where curious eyes are ever ready to prey upon a bleeding heart, but before the never failing charity of your pure soul, I dare appear as I am. Not only must I thank you for your kindly services during my sickness, but also for saving me from an utter disbelief in woman’s truth and goodness, for when a man loses his faith in woman, the brightest star in the heaven of his existence is quenched. Had you intruded in the least upon my feelings—had you by word, or look, or sign, overstepped the boundary which my jealous soul had placed for you, I should have hated you. But no: it was not thus, for ever gentle, helpful and retiring, you manifested your sympathy for my stricken heart in the simplest, most unobtrusive way, and always conducted towards me with that cheerful, pure-hearted simplicity, which is the greatest charm of the true woman. From this and from what I have learned of your past history, you have shown me, that however much I may have been disappointed, yet my cherished ideal of woman is not altogether false, and so I go forth to the world again, with the faint hope in my heart, that somewhere on the face of the earth, I may find that ideal, and make it the altar for my yearning affections.”
The tears streamed down Hesper’s cheeks as he spoke. “O, Mr. Clyde!” she said earnestly, “believe me, although there is so much of deception in the worlds that you will find many, many women much better than my own poor self. There are many pure and faithful hearts filled with a never failing fountain of affection, scattered up and down in the world, but you will find that they scarce ever beat beneath silken garments and glancing jewels. Look for true love rather among those who serve humbly and suffer long, for the heart grows tender and truthful under the discipline of sorrow. I have not lived long in the world, but I have seen enough of it to know that.”
“You are right, good angel,” said Mr. Clyde, as he regarded her with an earnest, sorrowful look. “What I could not learn through years of varied experience, has come to you through your own intuitions, and now your speak it to my shame. I know myself, now, after the first feeling of bitterness has passed, that heretofore I have worshipped false deities, and laid my soul’s best offerings upon shrines wholly unworthy of them, but while the arrow of disappointment still rankles in my heart that thought can give me little consolation. Time alone can heal the wound, and teach me that indifference which shall turn my heart to stone.”
“O no! no!” said Hesper, quickly, as she laid her hand upon his shoulder, and looked him earnestly in the face—“not to stone, for is there not much in the world to live for and enjoy, even though one particular affection cannot be gratified?”
Mr. Clyde shook his head seriously. “Put the question to your own heart,” he said. “An earnest, joyful love for the companion of your childhood, gladdens and inspires your whole being. You are sitting in the sunshine of a great hope, and your whole future is radiant with the golden hues which your own soul casts before you. Tell me, should these hopes be disappointed, should this light go out in darkness, would you turn unmoved to the world, and find much there, even then, to make you happy? If so, then you have not the tender, sympathizing nature, which I had ascribed to you.”
For the first time did it cross Hesper’s mind, that such a shadow might fall upon her pathway, and her deep sympathy for her friend made her feel how terrible it would be. She laid her hand for an instant upon her heart, while an expression of pain crossed her countenance. Then the cloud passed, and the calm sweet look returned again.