F. W. Robinson

“ He did not think of himself, or ask if it were possible to love her; possibly for the first time in his life, he was wholly unselfish, and thought only of a return for all the sacrifices she had made. He could remember now that hers had been a life of abnegation—that she had risked her good name once for Harriet Wesden—once, and in the latter days, for himself. All this simply Mattie's gratitude for the kindness extended in the old days—nothing more. It was not likely that that ignorant woman below could know all that had been unfathomable to brighter, keener intellects. ”

“ Mattie quietly entered the shop. The spell was broken; Mr. Gray paused with his right arm above his head—he was just coming down with another bang on the counter—and Maurice leaped off his stool, to which he had been transfixed, and shook hands violently with Mattie in his bewilderment.
"He will see me, Miss Gray?"
"Yes. If you wish it."
"Thank you—thank you! Is he in the parlour?"
"Yes."
"And so be warned, young man—there is no excuse left you—not one, now. You have been warned of all the evils which a guilty life incurs upon those who go on their way defiantly!" ”

“ Perhaps you know of some one who is likely to take care of Mattie in the way you think?"
"I don't know."
"Some one who calls and sees her, and in whom she is interested?"
"Oh! no—no one calls to see her," said Ann, "her father's jealous of her liking anybody save himself. I saw that long ago."
"I should like to see—ah, ha! to see!" he cried—"Mattie happy. She deserves it."
"Those who think so little of theirselves seldom find happiness though—do they, sir?"
Sidney started at the axiom—it was deeper than Ann Packet's general run of observations. ”

“ Miss Gray, I engage your hand for the first dance in the evening—we'll wind up with a ball that day—is it a bargain between us?"
"I make no hasty promises," said Mattie, with a faint smile.
"Well, there will be time to talk of that idea," said Maurice, laughing; "and, talking about time, how I have been absorbing yours, to be sure! Still time is well wasted when it is employed for others' happiness—your father could offer no objection to that sentiment. You are on my side?"
"On Sidney's, if he think of Harriet Wesden still." ”

“ That I was too old, and had experienced too much sorrow to talk like a lover in a novel."
"It seems to me—I do not know, Sid—that true love must belong partly to romance. It is too pure—too full of fancies, if you will—to mingle readily with business life; it is too deep down in the heart to rise to an every-day surface—it is full of sacrifice as well as love. All this, my idea, not yours, Sidney—I who would at least be romantic in that fashion, and would care for no one but a romantic lover."
"You have altered, Mattie—you are talking like a school-girl now. ”

“ Did the change upon that face tell all, or was it the natural result of such news as Mattie had hissed forth?
"Dead!—dead did you say?" asked Harriet, hastily.
"I did not tell your father a few nights ago that Sidney had left us—I reserved the news for you, and then missed you going home. He is in the hands of clever and scientific men, who hope to cure him of his blindness."
"Yes—go on."
"But there is a chance of failure, which Sidney risks, and thinks, perhaps, too lightly of. That failure will not subject him to his old estate, but drive him mad, or kill him." ”

“ That Harriet had not loved him truly and firmly, did not matter; he had given her up for his pride's sake, even for her own sake, but he loved her none the less. She would have been unhappy with him after a while—she could not have endured the place of nurse and comforter—she, who was made for the brightness of life, and to be comforted herself when that brightness was shut from her; she was not like Mattie, a woman of rare character and energy. ”

“ Sidney sat and thought for a while. Then he pronounced his verdict.
"All this assures me that you are easily led away—that it is only chance that has kept you from being wholly a bad man. You are weak, vacillating, and unprincipled—you are no Hinchford."
"I have tried to do my best all my life, but somehow failed," said Maurice, ruefully; "impulse has led me wrong when my heart has meant right—candidly, cousin, I have been a fool more than once. But you cannot believe that I would do harm to any human being in cold blood?" ”

“ Mattie did not blame Sidney; she saw how far he had been led to deceive himself, and how far pity and gratitude had betrayed him; she knew that he considered himself bound to her still, and that only her word could release him from his. She felt that he was miserable like herself, and she fretted impatiently for the day when she could let him go free to his sphere, and to the only woman whom he had loved. ”

“ A selfish, and an inconsiderate request, Mattie, which I should not have thought of, had I not fancied that it was in my power to make you a good husband, a true and faithful husband, and to love you more dearly as a wife than friend. But always understand, Mattie, that on your side it will be a sacrifice—that no after-repentance, only my death, can relieve you from the incubus—that for life you are tied to a blind man, and that all natural positions of life are reversed, when I ask you to be my guide, protector, comforter! ”

“ Mattie had deceived her; it was natural—but she saw no longer darkly through the glass; beyond there was the successful rival, whom Sidney Hinchford would marry out of gratitude!
Sidney continued to dilate upon the prospects in life before him. Harriet had risen, and was standing with her hand upon the door, watching her opportunity to escape.
"Who would have dreamed of a man becoming resigned to an utter darkness, Mattie? Who would have thought of me in particular, cut out for a man of action, with no great love for books, or for anything that fastened me down to the domesticities?" ”

“ She had doubted his love for her until that day when Mattie came to draw her into the old vortex, and then her faith in him came back, and life took fairer colours—she knew not wherefore, save that the reflex of that day's brightness might have shone upon her from the distance. For it was a bright day for both these old lovers; Mattie had augured well that one explanation—a few words, true and gentle, that scarcely stood for explanation even—would be sufficient, and disperse all clouds that had hung heavily above them. ”

“ So they had parted, and Mattie had returned home to offer the great news concerning Sidney, and then escape to her room and be seen no more that night. What happened on that night—what resolves, what struggles, we need not dwell on here; she was one who had been injured—the best of women come in for the greatest injuries at times—and it was not a night's thought or struggle which could set her right. She was a heroine, but she was a woman—and women brood on matters which affect the heart for a long, long time after we have been deceived by their looks. ”

“ Mattie read the fear of one, and exaggerated in her imagination the reserve of the other; even then all might be marred, and all her efforts end in nothing, if she were not quick to act.
"I asked Sidney, as you entered, Harriet, if it were not something more than chance that brought you two together to-day—that brought him hither, in particular," she said; "I think it is—I trust that from to-day a brighter life opens for you both. Why should it not?—you who have kept so long asunder from each other, only require an honest mediator to pave the way for a fair explanation. ”

“ Gray would have beaten most men; his ideas were always in order, and he could pounce upon the right word, reason, or text, in an instant; but Mattie was certain that her father's zeal very often outran his discretion. She shuddered as she pictured Sidney Hinchford a victim to her father's obtrusiveness—her father, oblivious to suffering, and full of belief in the conversion he was attempting. She knew that her father was wrong, and she felt vexed that Sidney had been intruded upon at a time wherein she had not found the courage to face him herself. ”

“ Sidney had not exhibited any warmth of demeanour in breaking the news to Mr. Gray; many men might have remarked his quiet way of entering upon the subject. But Mr. Gray was of a quiet, unworldly sort himself, and took Sidney's love for granted. How was it possible to know Mattie, to live beneath the same roof with her, and not love her very passionately?
"I think—mind, I only think—that Mattie will not refuse you, Sidney," said Mr. Gray; "she understands you well, and knows thoroughly your character. ”

“ Mattie moved like an automaton towards her, and the two went out together arm-in-arm, down the broad staircase to the hall, from the hall to the street, where Maurice's cab still waited for them.
"I am faint and ill, Mattie," said Harriet, sinking back.
"Will you rest awhile?"
"No—let us get home at once. How coldly and quietly you take this news, Mattie!" she said, looking intently at her; "ah! if you had only loved him like me all your life!" ”

“ They saw only Mattie's effort to bring them together, nothing else, in that hour; and they were very grateful, and not selfish in their joy.
"To think it has all ended as you wished at last—as you have prophesied it would end!" said Harriet; "and to think that I even mistrusted you at one time, and was cold towards you, who sacrificed so much for me, in the old days."
"In the old days!" thought Mattie.
"It makes a great difference when one is unhappy," said Harriet; "we look at things sceptically, and are mistrustful of all good intentions." ”

“ For your happiness, not mine! Sidney, you have not settled down; you are not resigned to this present lot in life; there is a restlessness which you subdue now you are well and strong, but which may defeat you in the days to come. Years hence, I may be a trouble to you, a regret—you, a gentleman's son, and I—a stray! I may have made amends for my past life, but I cannot forget it ”

“ You're not like most blind men, dulled by your affliction—and Mattie is very different from most girls. If she thought that she could do more good by marrying you, make you more happy, she would do it."
"I don't want a sacrifice—I want to make her happy," said Sidney, a little peevishly. "If she could not love me, as well as pity me, I wouldn't marry her for all the world." ”

“ Gray felt was in its place again. He leaned his forehead on his hand, and looked down thoughtfully—an old position in his blindness, which Mr. Gray had often watched, and which drew again more forcibly the heart of the watcher towards him. That heart might have been a little estranged since yester-night; it had borne no malice, but it had thrilled a little at his daughter's confession, and the thought had crossed it that Sidney Hinchford might have spared Mattie an avowal of such weak love as had been borne towards her. Sid had guessed Mattie's secret, perhaps, and taken pity upon her ”

“ He held forth his hand, which Maurice took and shook heartily in his.
"Understand me," said Sidney, still coldly, "I forgive you, but I do not need your help, and your presence, under any circumstances, will always give me pain. We shall never be true friends—we shall respect each other better apart."
"Is it fair to think that? You who have heard me declaim against my vain and objectless life."
"Yours is a life to rejoice at, and to do good with, not to mourn over. Seek a wife, man, and settle down in your sphere, honoured by good men, and honouring good things." ”

“ Afar, then, she saw herself happy enough in the new world—with the familiar faces of her father and Ann Packet to remind her of the old. New friends, new pursuits, new incentives to do good, and defeat evil at every turn of her life—her young life still—with scope for energy and a fair time given her, not entirely alone, and never unloved, there would be nothing to disturb, and much to gladden, the future progress of the stray. ”