Family Pride; Or, Purified by Suffering

by Mary Jane Holmes

"Hush-h!" came warningly from the mother as Juno reappeared, the warning indicating that Genevra, whoever she might be, was a personage never mentioned, except by mother and son.

As Juno remained the conversation was not resumed, and the next morning Wilford wrote to Katy Lennox the letter which carried to her so much of joy, and to Dr. Grant so much of grief. To wait four weeks, as Katy said he must, was a terrible trial to Wilford, who counted every moment which kept him from her side. It was all owing to Dr. Grant and that perpendicular Helen, he knew, for Katy in her letter had admitted that the waiting was wholly their suggestion; and Wilford's thoughts concerning them were anything but complimentary, until a new idea was suggested, which drove every other consideration from his mind.

Wilford was naturally jealous, but that fault had once led him into so deep a trouble that he had struggled hard to overcome it, and now, at its first approach, after he thought it dead, he tried to shake it off—tried not to believe that Morris cared especially for Katy. But the mere possibility was unendurable, and in a most feverish state of excitement he started again for Silverton.

As before, Morris was waiting for him at the station, his cordial greeting and friendly manner disarming him from all anxiety in that quarter, and making him resolve anew to trample the demon jealousy under his feet, where it could never rise again. Katy's life should not be darkened by the green monster, he thought, and her future would have been bright indeed had it proved all that he pictured it as he drove along with Morris in the direction of the farmhouse, for he was to stop there first and then at night go over to sleep at Linwood.

Katy was waiting for him, and as he met her alone, he did not hesitate to kiss her more than once as he kept her for a moment in his arms, and then held her off to see if her illness had left any traces upon her. It had not, except it were in the increased delicacy of her complexion and the short hair now growing out in silky rings. She was very pretty in her short hair, but Wilford felt a little impatient as he saw how childish it made her look, and thought how long it would take for it to attain its former length. He was already appropriating her to himself, and devising ways of improving her. In New York, with Morris Grant standing before his jealous gaze, he could see no fault in Katy, and even now, with her beside him, and the ogre jealousy gone, he saw no fault in her; it was only her dress, and that could be so easily remedied. Otherwise she was perfect, and in his delight at meeting her again he forgot to criticise the farmhouse and its occupants, as he had done before.

They were very civil to him—the mother overwhelmingly so—insomuch that Wilford could not help detecting her anxiety that all should be settled this time. Helen, on the contrary, was unusually cool, confirming him in his opinion that she was strong-minded and self-willed, and making him resolve to remove Katy as soon as possible from her strait-laced influence. When talking with his mother he had said that if Katy had told him "yes," he should probably place her at some fashionable school for a year or two; but on the way to Silverton he had changed his mind. He could not wait a year, and if he married Katy at all, it should he immediately. He would then take her to Europe, where she could have the best of teachers, besides the advantage of traveling; and it was a very satisfactory picture he drew of the woman whom he should introduce into New York society as his wife, Mrs. Wilford Cameron. It is true that Katy had not yet said the all-important word, but she was going to say it, and when late that afternoon they came up from the walk he had asked her to take, she was his promised wife.

They had sat together on the very rock where Katy sat that day when Uncle Ephraim told her of the different paths there were through life, some pleasant and free from care, some thorny and full of grief. Katy had never forgotten the conversation, and, without knowing why, she had always avoided that rock beneath the butternut as a place where there had been revealed to her a glimpse of something sad; and so, when Wilford proposed resting there, she at first objected, but yielded at last, and, with his arm around her, listened to the story of his love. It was what she had expected and thought herself prepared for, but when it came it was so real, so earnest, that she could only clasp her hands over her face, which she hid on Wilford's shoulder, weeping passionately as she thought how strange it was for a man like Wilford Cameron to seek her for his wife. Katy was no coquette; whatever she felt she expressed, and when she could command herself she frankly confessed to Wilford her love for him, telling him how the fear that he had forgotten her had haunted her all the long, long winter; and then with her clear, truthful blue eyes looking into his, asking him why he had not sent her some message if, as he said, he loved her all the time.

For a moment Wilford's lip was compressed and a flush overspread his face, as, drawing her closer to him, he replied: "My little Katy will remember that in my first note I spoke of certain circumstances which had prevented my writing earlier. I do not know that I asked her not to seek to know those circumstances; but I ask it now. Will Katy trust me so far as to believe that all is right between us, and never allude to these circumstances?"

He was kissing her fondly, and his voice was so winning that Katy promised all that was required; and then came the hardest, the trying to tell her all, as he had said to his mother he would. Twice he essayed to speak, and as often something sealed his lips, until at last he began: "You must not think me perfect, Katy, for I have faults, and perhaps if you knew my past life you would wish to revoke your recent decision and render a different verdict to my suit. Suppose I unfold the blackest leaf for your inspection?"

"No, no, oh, no," and Katy playfully stopped his mouth with her hand. "Of course you have some faults, but I would rather find them out myself. I could not hear anything against you now. I am satisfied to take you as you are."