George William Curtis

“ I find that my heart, after foolish wanderings, is still true to its first devotion. We can both view things more calmly, not less truly, however, than we once did. I am upon the eve of a public career. I have outgrown morbid emotions, and I come to ask you if you would take time to reflect whether I might not renew my addresses; for indeed I love, and can love, no other woman.”
Hope Wayne stood pale, incredulous, and confounded while Abel Newt, with some of the old fire in the eye and the old sweetness in the voice, poured out these rapid words, and advanced toward her. ”

“ Hope Wayne had not met Abel Newt since they had parted after the runaway at Delafield, except in his mother’s conservatory, and when she was stepping from the carriage. In the mean while she had been learning every thing at once.
As her eyes fell upon him now she remembered that day upon the lawn at Pinewood, when he stood suddenly beside her, casting a shadow upon the page she was reading. The handsome boy had grown into this proud, gallant, gay young man, surrounded by that social prestige which gives graceful confidence to the bearing of any man. ”

“ Lawrence Newt was not unmindful of the difference of age between Amy Waring and himself; and instinctively he did nothing which could show to others that he felt more for her than for a friend. Younger men, who could not help yielding to the charm of her presence, never complained of him. He was never “that infernal old bore, Lawrence Newt,” to them. More than one of them, in the ardor of young feeling, had confided his passion to Lawrence, who said to him, bravely, “My dear fellow, I do not wonder you feel so. God speed you—and so will I, all I can.” ”

“ CHAPTER XXXVII. — ABEL NEWT, vice SLIGO MOULTRIE REMOVED.
The Plumers were at Bunker’s. The gay, good-hearted Grace, full of fun and flirtation, vowed that New York was life, and all the rest of the world death.
“You do not compliment the South very much,” said Sligo Moultrie, smiling.
“Oh no! The South is home, and we don’t compliment relations, you know,” returned Miss Grace.
“Yes, thank Heaven! the South is home, Miss Grace. New York is like a foreign city. The tumult is fearful; yet it is only a sea-port after all. It has no metropolitan repose. It never can have. ”

“ If I kick a small boy who contradicts me, is he likely to be opinionated and dogmatic? If I eat up my fag’s plum-cake just sent by his mamma, hot, as it were, from the maternal heart, and moist with a mother’s tears, is that fag likely to be selfish? Not at all. The boots, and the kicking, and the general walloping make him manly. It teaches him to govern his temper and hold his tongue. I swear I should like to have a fag!” perorated Abel, meaning that he should like to be the holy office, and to have Gabriel Bennet immediately delivered up to him for discipline. ”

“ She still looked at him, and suspicion, incredulity, and scorn were mingled in her look, while her uplifted finger still shook, as if appealing to Heaven. Then she asked abruptly, and fiercely,
“To which, in the name of God, are you false—the mother or the daughter?”
“Stop!” replied Lawrence Newt, in a tone so imperious that the hand of his companion fell at her side, and the scorn and suspicion faded from her eyes. “Mrs. Simcoe, there are things that even you must not say. You have lived alone with a great sorrow; you are too swift; you are unjust. ”

“ Somehow Grace Plumer is troubled. She fears the fascination she enjoys. She dreads the assumption of power over her which she has observed in Abel. She recoils from the cold blackness she has seen in his eyes. She sees it at this moment again, in that glittering glance which slips across the room and holds her as she stands. Involuntarily she leans upon Sligo Moultrie, as if clinging to him.
There is more music?—a lighter, then a sadder and lingering strain. It recedes slowly, slowly up the street. The company stand in the pretty parlor, and not a word is spoken. ”

“ She did not even seem to be excited by seeing Hope Wayne in her house, but merely said, “Good-morning,” and then sank quietly upon the sofa, as if she had said every thing she had to say.
“I came to ask you if you know any thing about Abel?” said Hope.
“No; nothing in particular,” replied Fanny; “I believe he’s going to Congress; but I never see him or hear of him.”
“Doesn’t Alfred see him?”
“He used to meet him at Thiel’s; but Alfred doesn’t go there much now. It’s too fine for poor gentlemen. ”

“ To die, while I live; to be buried alive close to my nearest and dearest; to know that my sister thinks of me as dead, and is glad that I am so—”
“Stop, Aunt Martha, stop!” cried Amy, with the same firm tone in which, upon a previous visit, in this room, she had dismissed the insolent shopman, “how can you say such things?” and she stood radiant before her aunt, while Lawrence Newt looked on.
“Amy, dear, you can not understand. Sons and daughters of evil, when we see that we have sinned, we must be brave enough to assist in our own punishment. ”

“ Do you think, then, it helps a man’s temper to be as furious with himself as with other people? He burst into the room.
There stood Hope: Abel at her side, in the merry midst of his talk, with his sketch in his hand, his port-folio under his arm, and his finger pointed toward the portrait; Gabriel, at a little distance, confounded and abashed by an acquaintance between Hope and Abel of which he had no previous suspicion. The poor boy! forgotten by Hope, and purposely trampled down by the eager talk of Abel.
“Hope, go up stairs!” shouted the old gentleman. ”

“ Nobody spoke.
“I am sorry for that poor little Grace Plumer,” Lawrence Newt gravely said.
“Don’t you be troubled about little Grace Plumer. She can take proper care of herself,” answered Arthur, merrily.
Hope Wayne’s busy fingers did not stop. She remembered Miss Grace Plumer, and she did not agree with Arthur Merlin. Hope did not know Grace; but she knew the voice, the manner, the magnetism to which the gay girl was exposed,
“If Mr. Godefroi Plumer is really as rich as I hear,” said Lawrence, “I think we shall have a Mrs. Abel Newt in the autumn. Poor Mrs. Abel Newt!” ”

“ Dagon—“if it was so wonderfully impossible that Abel should marry Hope Wayne, why might he not have married Grace Plumer, or some other rich girl? I’m sure I don’t care who. It was evidently the only thing for him, whatever it may be for other people. When you are of my age, May, you will rate things differently. Well-bred men and women in society ought to be able to marry any body. Society isn’t heaven, and it’s silly to behave as if it were. Your romance is very pretty, dear; we all have it when we are young, as we have the measles and the whooping-cough. ”

“ You are, perhaps, not aware—”
“Oh! thank you, yes, I am fully aware,” replied Lawrence Newt. “But one thing I do not know.”
The Honorable Budlong Dinks bowed with dignity as if he understood Mr. Newt to compliment him by insinuating that he was the man who knew all about it, and would immediately enlighten him.
“I do not know why, if a man does a mean and unfeeling, yes, an inhuman act, it is bad manners to speak of it. Old Van Boozenberg ought to be sent to the penitentiary for his treatment of his daughter, and we all know it.” ”

“ William Condor joined with an entirely unruffled face.
“As for Belch,” continued Abel, with what would be called in animals an ugly expression—“Belch is the clown, and they left him off easy. The Party is like the old kings, it keeps a good many fools to make it laugh.”
His tone was threatening, and nobody laughed. General Belch looked as if he were restraining himself from knocking his friend down. But they all saw that their host was mastered by his own liquor.
“Squeeze Lawrence Newt, will you? Why, Lord, gentlemen, what do you suppose he thinks of you—I mean, of fellows like you?” ”

“ Fanny Newt, who had seated herself with an air of utter and chronic contempt and indifference, and who looked away from Gabriel the moment she had spoken to him, now turned toward him again suddenly with an expression like that of an animal which pricks up his ears. The keen fire of the old days shot for a moment into her eyes, for it was the first word of badinage or humor that Fanny Newt had heard for a long, long time.
“A woman who is such a fool as to marry ought to be unhappy,” she replied, with her eyes fixed upon Gabriel. ”

“ She was standing on the step; her full, dark eyes, swimming with moisture, were fixed upon his; her luxuriant hair curled over her clear, rich cheeks—youth, love, and beauty, they were all there. Lawrence Newt could hardly believe they were not all his. It was so natural to think so. Somehow he and Amy had grown together. He understood her perfectly.
“Perfectly?” he said to himself. “Why you are holding her hand; you are kissing it with reverence; you are looking into the face which is dearer and lovelier to you than all other human faces; and you are as far off as if oceans rolled between.” ”

“ Hal Battlebury’s eyes are clear, but his heart is full of tears as he listens and thinks of Amy Waring. He knows that all is in vain. She has told him, with a sweet dignity that made her only lovelier and more inaccessible, that it can not be. He is trying to believe it. He is hoping to show her one day that she is wrong. Listening, he follows in his mind the song the band is playing.
Sligo Moultrie feels and admires the audacious skill of Abel in crowning the feast with music. Grace Plumer leans upon his arm. Abel Newt’s glittering eyes are upon them. ”

“ Lawrence Newt was alarmed. “Does she mean to convey to me delicately that there may be cases of true mutual love where it is better not to marry?” thought he. “Where, for instance, there is a difference of age perhaps, or where there has been some other and earlier attachment?”
“I mean,” said Amy, as if answering his thoughts, “that there may sometimes be reasons why even lovers should not marry—reasons which every noble man and woman understand; and therefore I do not agree with you that it is always a pity for a girl not to be married.” ”

“ Newt.
“Pooh! it isn’t such a dreadful thing, if he is only rich enough,” said Aunt Dagon, in a consoling voice. “Every thing depends on that; and I haven’t much doubt of it. Alfred Dinks is a fool, my dear, but Fanny Newt is not; and Fanny Newt is not the girl to marry a fool, except for reasons. You may trust Fanny, Nancy. You may depend there was some foolish something with Hope Wayne, on the part of Alfred, and Fanny has cut the knot she was not sure of untying. Pooh! pooh! When you are as old as I am you won’t be distressed over these things. Fanny Newt is fully weaned. ”

“ During all this time Gabriel Bennet is becoming a merchant. Every morning he arrives at the store with the porter or before him. He helps him sweep and dust; and it is Gabriel who puts Lawrence Newt’s room in order, laying the papers in place, and taking care of the thousand nameless details that make up comfort. He reads the newspapers before the other clerks arrive, and sits upon chests of tea or bales of matting in the loft, that fill the air with strange, spicy, Oriental odors, and talks with the porter. ”

“ The sun shines bright in his eyes—the street is gay—he nods to his friends—he admires the pretty faces—he wonders at the fast men driving fast horses—he sees the flowers in the windows, the smiling faces between the muslin curtains—he gazes with a kind of awe at the funerals going by, and marks the white bands of the clergymen and the physicians—the elm-trees in the hospital yard remind him of the woods at Delafield; and here comes Abel Newt, laughing, chatting, smoking, with an arm in the arms of two other young men, who are also smoking. As Gabriel passes Abel their eyes meet. ”

“ For the conversation at the Round Table sometimes fell upon Abel.
“He is certainly a handsome fellow,” said Amy Waring. “I don’t wonder at his success.”
“It’s beauty that does it, then, Miss Waring?” asked Arthur.
“Does what?” said she.
“Why, that gives what you call social success.”
“Oh! I mean that I don’t wonder such a handsome, bright, graceful; accomplished young man, who lives in fine style, drives pretty horses, and knows every body, should be a great favorite with the girls and their mothers. Don’t you see, Abel Newt is a sort of Alcibiades?”
Lawrence Newt laughed. ”

“ Some men are born to possess every quality of heart, and mind, and person that can awaken and satisfy the love of a woman. Yes, unquestionably, said Amy Waring in her mind, which was so cool, so impartial, so merely contemplating the subject as an abstract question, some men—let me see, shall I say like Lawrence Newt, simply as an illustration?—well, yes—some men like Lawrence Newt, for instance, are born to be all that some women dream of in their souls, and they are the very ones who are born to be bachelors. ”

“ We can not dispense with money, because money is a necessity. It gives me, therefore, great pleasure to hear that the choice of my son has evinced the good sense which, I may say without affectation, I hope he has inherited, and has justified the pains and expense which I have been at in his education. My son, I congratulate you. Mrs. Dinks, I congratulate you.”
The honorable gentleman thereupon shook hands with his wife and son, as if he were congratulating them upon having such an eloquent and dignified husband and father, and then blew his nose gravely and loudly. ”

“ And, if you please, Miss Fanny, with all your virtuous sniffs, dear, and all your hugging of men in waltzing, darling, Colonel Burr was not sent to Coventry because he was naughty. He might have been naughty all the days of his life, and Mrs. Jacob Van Boozenberg and the rest of ‘em would have been quite as glad to have him at their houses. No, no, dears, society doesn’t punish men for being naughty—only women. I am older than you, and I have observed that society likes spice in character. It doesn’t harm a man to have stories told about him.”
No ball was complete without Abel Newt. ”

“ Lawrence Newt paused a moment, while the young man still calmly puffed the smoke from his mouth, and calmly regarded his uncle.
“Abel, you are not a fool. You know the inevitable results of certain courses. I want to fortify your knowledge by my experience. I understand all the temptations and excitements that carry you along. But I don’t like your looks, Abel; and I don’t like the looks of other people when they speak of you and your father. Remember, we are of the same blood. Heaven knows its own mysteries! Your father and I were sons of one woman. ”

“ She had no profound respect for that gentleman; but men are willful. Suppose he should take a whim to stop it? On the other side, she knew that Boniface Newt was an obstinate man, and that fathers were sometimes implacable. Sometimes, even, they did not relent in making their wills. She knew all about Miss Van Boozenberg’s marriage with Tom Witchet, for it was no secret in society. Was it possible her darling Alfred might be in actual danger of such penury—at least until he came into his property? And what property was it, and what were the chances that old Burt would leave him a cent? ”

“ How would it do to paint an ideal figure for Endymion?”
“No, no,” said Lawrence Newt, laughing; “art must get its ideal out of the real. I demand a good, solid, flesh-and-blood Endymion.”
“I can’t just think of any body,” replied Arthur Merlin, musingly, looking upon the floor, and thinking so intently of Hope, in order to image to himself a proper Endymion, that he quite forgot to think of the candidates for that figure.
“How would my young friend Hal Battlebury answer?” asked Lawrence Newt. ”

“ Newt, good-by!”
CHAPTER LXXIII. — THE BELCH PLATFORM.
“My dear Newt, as a friend who has the highest respect for you, and the firmest faith in your future, I am sure you will allow me to say one thing.”
“Oh! certainly, my dear Belch; say two,” replied Abel, with the utmost suavity, as he sat at table with General Belch.
“I have no peculiar ability, I know,” continued the other, “but I have, perhaps, a little more experience than you. We old men, you know, always plume ourselves upon experience, which we make do duty for all the virtues and talents.” ”

“ Mrs. Bennet was very curious. She looked at her sister Martha, who was smiling intelligently. Then at Lawrence Newt, who did not cease smiling, as if he were in no perplexity whatsoever. Then at Amy, who sat smiling at her through the tears that had gathered in the thoughtful womanly brown eyes.
“Let me speak,” said Lawrence Newt, quietly. “Why should we not all be glad and happy with you? You have found a sister, Aunt Martha has found herself and a son, I have found a wife, and Amy a husband.” ”

“ We have come to the last leaf, patient and gentle reader, and the girl we saw sitting, long ago, upon the lawn and walking in the garden of Pinewood is not yet married! Yes, and we shall close the book, and still she will be Hope Wayne.
How could we help it? How could a faithful chronicler but tell his story as it is? It is not at his will that heroes marry, and heroines are given in marriage. He merely watches events and records results; but the inevitable laws of human life are hidden in God’s grace beyond his knowledge. ”

“ Abel nods airily, and Gabriel quietly; the next moment they are back to back again—one is going up street, the other down.
It is not one of the splendid houses before which Gabriel stops when he has reached the upper part of the city. It is not a palace, nor is it near Broadway. Nor are there curtains at the window, but a pair of smiling faces, of friendly women’s faces. One is mild and maternal, with that kind of tender anxiety which softens beauty instead of hardening it. It has that look which, after she is dead, every affectionate son thinks he remembers to have seen in his mother’s face ”

“ But the story of his wealth and his engagement might very easily have been the ruse by which the skillful Mrs. Dinks meant to conduct her campaign in New York. In that case, what was more likely than that she should have improved Fanny’s evident delusion in regard to her son, and, by suggesting to him an elopement, have secured for him the daughter of a merchant so universally reputed wealthy as Boniface Newt?
Mrs. Dagon was clever—so was Mrs. Dinks; and it is the homage that one clever person always pays to another to believe the other capable of every thing that occurs to himself. ”

“ The large leather library chairs were arranged in precisely the proper angle at the corners of the table, and the smaller chairs stood under the windows two by two. All was cold and clean, and locked up—all—except a portrait that hung against the wall, and below which Mrs. Simcoe stopped, still holding the miniature in her hand.
It was the likeness of a lovely girl, whose rich, delicate loveliness, full of tender but tremulous character, seemed to be a kind of foreshadowing of Hope Wayne. The eyes were of a deep, soft darkness, that held the spectator with a dreamy fascination. ”

“ Boniface Newt sat in his office haggard and gray. His face, like his daughter Fanny’s, had grown sharp, and almost fierce. The blinds were closed, and the room was darkened. His port-folio lay before him upon the desk, open. The paper was smooth and white, and the newly-mended pens lay carefully by the inkstand. But the merchant did not write. He had not written that day. His white, bony hand rested upon the port-folio, and the long fingers drummed upon it at intervals, while his eyes half-vacantly wandered out into the store and saw the long shrouds drawn over the goods. ”

“ Oh, Sir, it is dreadful to think of a family divided!” Abel puffed for a moment in silence. “But I think my dearest father loves me enough to allow me to mould him a little. If, for instance, I could say to him that Mr. Dinks would contribute say fifteen hundred dollars a year, until Mr. Alfred comes into his fortune, I think in that case I might persuade him to advance as much; and so, Sir, your son and my dear sister might live somewhat as they have been accustomed, and their mutual affection would sustain them, I doubt not, until the grandfather died. ”

“ Simcoe, I do love Hope Wayne too tenderly, and respect her too truly, not to try to protect her against the sting of her own womanly pride. And so I have not staid away. I have not avoided a woman in whom I must always have so deep and peculiar an interest, I have been friend and almost father, and never by a whisper even, by a look, by a possible hint, have I implied any thing more. ”

“ The lad looked around the spacious office, on every table and desk and chair of which was written Prosperity as plainly as the name of Lawrence Newt upon the little tin sign by the door. Except for the singular magnetism of the merchant’s presence, which dissipated such a suggestion as rapidly as it rose, the youth would have said aloud what was in his heart.
“How easy ‘tis for a rich man to smile at poverty!” ”