Mary Hope

“ Then Mary herself collapsed; she sank down on the dais and broke into weeping. It had all been so pitiful, and somehow so terrible. Her quick tumultuous sobbing sounded through the place which the vibrations of the old man’s voice had lately filled.
She felt Beaumaroy’s hand on her shoulder. “You must make sure,” he said, in a low voice. “You must make your examination.”
With trembling hands she did it—she forced herself to it, Beaumaroy aiding her. There was no doubt. Life had left the body which reason had left long before. ”

“ However, Mary, we will still hope. Your sweet voice has mitigated my sorrow. May my poor nephew be restored to me. The happiness I expected in my old age may yet be a reality. You, Mary,—pure image of piety, goodness, and love,—you will be my child! And when old Deodati will be called to leave this world, he will see you and Geronimo by his dying bed, like two angels, pointing out to his expiring goal the path to heaven. ”

“ There are older people than this young lady, this pretty Mary Dering, who are almost as unintelligent about the workers of the world, and they would have been almost as astonished as she, not only at the good taste of the simple furnishings, but at the signs of intelligent thought in the collection of books and magazines on the table. If pretty Mary Dering, however, could have seen all these things, she would not have wondered so much at Hope's speaking and looking like any well-brought-up little girl. ”

“ Here Mary’s voice sounded quite straightforward and sincere. An odd little note of contempt crept into it as she added, “And it sounds—ideal!”
“Yes, it does,” old Naylor agreed, with a private smile all to himself, whilst Mary still gazed into the fire. “Quite ideal. You’re a lucky young woman, Mary.” He rose to take his leave. “So, with our young folk happily married, and you installed, and friend Beaumaroy suited to his liking—why, upon my word, we may ring the curtain down on a happy ending—of Act I, at all events!” ”

“ Hope was a well-brought-up little girl, as you will see,—as well brought up as Mary herself, or Mary's sister Dolly, who was just Hope's age. If you had said this to Mary Dering, she would have told you that she could not imagine a well-brought-up child selling things on the street. Dolly would never have been allowed to stand in public places and cry, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" ”

“ Beaumaroy was equally obstinate.
Mary rose. “Then that’s settled, and we needn’t keep Captain Alec waiting any longer.”
“How do you know that I sha’n’t cheat you?” he asked.
“I don’t know how I know that,” Mary admitted. “But I do know it. And I want to tell you—”
She suddenly felt embarrassed under his gaze; her cheeks flushed, but she went on resolutely:
“To tell you how glad, how happy, I am that it all ends like this; that the poor old man is free of his fancies and his fears, beyond both our pity and our laughter.” ”

“ Yet no invitation came to the Devil’s Tooth ranch, not a word was said to them by Mary Hope, not a hint that they were expected, or would be welcome.
Belle met Mary Hope in the trail one day, just a week before the Fourth. Mary Hope was riding home from school; Belle was driving out from Jumpoff. It is the custom of the outland places for acquaintances to stop for a bit of friendly conversation when they meet, since meetings are so far between. But, though Belle slowed the pintos to a walk, Mary Hope only nodded, said, “How do you do,” and rode on. ”

“ Ah, Mary! I forget continually that for me there is no such joy in the future.
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast,"
and no reasoning can quell it. I subdue my fancy to my fate sometimes, as a rational creature ought surely to do; but then I suffer acutely, and am wretched; while in a careless abandonment of myself to any and every dream of coming joy I find present contentment. I cannot help myself. I shall continue to dream, I am sure, until I have grown so old that I can resign all earthly hopes without sighing. ”

“ Well, was I to give him up—to the law, and the Radbolts, and the jailers of an asylum—a man who trusted me like that?”
“But he was mad,” objected Doctor Mary obstinately.
“A man has his feelings, or may have, even when he’s mad. He trusted me and he loved me, Doctor Mary. Won’t you allow that I’ve my case—so far?” She made no sign of assent. “Well then, I loved him—does that go any better with you? If it doesn’t, I’m in a bad way; be cause what I’m giving you now is the strong part of my case.”
“I don’t see why you should put what you call your case to me at all, Mr. Beaumaroy.” ”

“ I tell you now, if you did not already know it, that you have been my beacon and guiding star, the hope which I held fast to my heart, when all others deserted me. I love you, Mary, with every drop of my mortal blood. I’ll love you in this world, and if there is a God, then surely I will love you in the next. ”

“ Mary replied.
"Miss Irving, without the benign and elevating influence of Hope, that great actuating principle from the opening to the close of life, what a dreary blank our existence would prove. In childhood it gorgeously gilds the future; the tints fade as maturity gains that future, and then it gently brightens the evening of life, while memory flings her mantle of witchery over the past, recalling, in hours of sadness, all of joy to cheer the heart, and banishing forever the phantoms of terror—the seasons of gloom that once haunted us." ”

“ She paused and thought hard. "Poor we must have been; very poor. I can see that now that I am rich." She paused and thought hard. "But all was peace and love. There were two of us, yet we seemed one."
Then in a moment Mary left the past, her eyes resigned the film of thought, and shone with the lustre of her great heart, and she burst at once into that simple eloquence which no hearer of hers from John Baker to William Hope ever resisted. "Ah! sweet memories, treasures of the past, why are you so dim and wavering, and this hard world so clear and glaring it seems cut out of stone? ”

“ Mary was looking from the window somewhat sadly—Claude was gazing into her large dark eyes fondly and earnestly, while my poor foolish heart was weaving a bright fabric for those two gifted beings who sat beside me—a dream which I was to waken from, even before that bright ray of moonlight which was sleeping in its holiness upon Mary’s brow, and which I had been watching for the last ten minutes, should pass away. So golden and so fleeting is the light which hope flings on the fairy fabric of love. ”

“ I am a giddy, giggling girl, with no depth of character, and not worthy of all this affection. Why does everybody love me? They ought to be ashamed of themselves."
Hope told her she was a little angel, and everybody was right to love her; indeed, they deserved to be hanged if they did not.
Mary fixed on the word angel. "If I was an angel," she said, "I shouldn't be hungry, and I am, awfully. Oh, please come home; papa is so punctual. Mr. Hope, are you going to tell papa? ”

“ The phrase sounded rather an odd one to Mary, but Beaumaroy accepted the assurance with a nod: “All right, I’ll wait downstairs, sir. I hope you’ll bring me a good account of him, Doctor.” So he left Mary to make her examination; going downstairs, he shook his head once, pursed up his lips, and then smiled doubtfully, as a man may do when he has made up his mind to take a chance. ”

“ Of course this behaviour (I loved Mary the more that she could not conceal her delightful embarrassment!) excited the dragon's curiosity; she turned round and favoured me with a searching gaze. I was equal to the occasion. I comprehended them both in a long, cool, deliberate, empty stare. The strain on my self-control was immense, but I supported it. Mary blushed crimson, and her eyes sank to her plate. Poor girl! She had sadly overrated her powers of deception. I was not surprised that Miss Dibbs frowned severely and sniffed audibly. ”

“ She poured this simple philosophy into Doctor Mary’s ears, vouching Alec’s authority for its application to Beaumaroy. The theory was too simple for Mary, whose profession had shown her at all events something of the complexity of human nature; and she was no infallibilist; she would bow unquestioningly to no man’s authority, not even to Alec’s, much as she liked and admired him. ”

“ My sack, the sack I rescued?”
“Including the sack in the water-butt. Yes, every single sovereign!” Though Mary was pursuing the high moral line, there was now more mischief than gravity in her demeanor.
“Well, I’ll do it!” He evidently spoke with a great effort. “I’ll do it! But, look here, Doctor Mary, you’ll live to be sorry you made me do it. Oh, I don’t mean that that conscience of yours will be sorry. That’ll approve, no doubt, being the extremely conventionalized thing it is. But you yourself, you’ll be sorry, or I’m much mistaken in the Radbolts.” ”

“ I have struggled through the clouds which have gathered around me, cheered by the thought that Mary's love would render the evening of my days tranquil and happy. Desperate must have been the temptations which beset the dear girl's mind, when she took the cruel step which has forever wrenched that hope from me. ”

“ At any rate she must soon have learned that so long as she chose to be the jailer of the most beautiful, accomplished and renowned woman in Europe, she could not hope for a peaceful career. Who so foolish as to think that Mary would not use all her energy to regain her liberty, or that powerful parties at home and abroad would not make the captive's cause their own? Certainly not the crafty Elizabeth. ”

“ However the heart of man is wicked. This fact alone can explain why Mary sat sadly in the drawing-room, feeling a letter that was tucked inside her waistband and John strode moodily up and down the gravel walk, a cigar, badly bitten, between his teeth, and his hand over and again covertly stealing toward his breast-pocket and pressing a scented note that lay there. In the course of every turn John would pass the window of the drawing-room; then Mary would look up with a smile and blow him a kiss, and he nodded and laughed and returned the salute. ”

“ He was so pleased with his explanation that his last doubt vanished and he watched Mary and John start for a walk—the fraternal relations they had established would have allowed such a thing even in London, much more in Paris—with quite a benevolent smile.
“Aunt Sarah is really quite poorly,” remarked Mary as they crossed the road and entered the Tuileries Gardens. “She’ll have to stay in all to-day and perhaps tomorrow. Isn’t it hard upon her? Paris amuses her so much.” ”

“ Mary persisted.
“So that’s how great fortunes are made? That’s how individuals—to say nothing of nations—rise to wealth and power! And I never knew it,” Beaumaroy reflected in a gentle voice. His eye caught Mary’s, and she gave a little laugh. “By deciding doubtful cases against themselves! Dear me, yes!”
“I didn’t say they rose to greatness and power.”
“Then the people who do rise to greatness and power—and the nations—don’t they go by right of conquest, Doctor Mary? Don’t they decide cases in their own favor?” ”

“ Mary suddenly whispered. “He’ll kill himself if he goes on like this!”
“I’ve never been able to stop him,” Beaumaroy whispered back. “Hush! If he hears us speaking he’ll be furious, and carry on worse.”
The old man’s blue eyes fixed themselves on Beaumaroy—of Mary he took no heed. He pointed at Beaumaroy with his scepter, and from him to the gleaming gold in Captain Duggle’s grave. A streak of coherency, a strand of mad logic, now ran through his hurtling words; the money was there, Beaumaroy was to take it—to-day, to-day!—to take it to Morocco, to raise the tribes, to set Africa aflame. ”

“ Reading the history of Mary's prison life in England, one is surprised at the frequent expressions of hope in Elizabeth's good will which are found in her letters. How she could continue to hope in one who had repeatedly deceived her is difficult to explain, except on the supposition that she was constitutionally incapable of believing that misery such as hers could fail to awaken sympathy in the heart of a woman. There can be little doubt, however, that she believed considerably less in Elizabeth's friendship than she professed. ”

“ We’ll rest for half an hour, and then get him upstairs, and—and do the rest. Come with me!” He put his hand lightly within her arm. “He will rest quietly on his throne for a little while. He’s not afraid any more. He’s at rest.”
Still with his arm in Mary’s, he bent forward and kissed the old man on the forehead. “I shall miss you, old friend,” he said. Then, with gentle insistence, he led Mary away. They left the old man, propped up by the high stool on which his feet rested, seated far back in the great chair, hard by Captain Duggle’s grave, where the scepter lay on a carpet of gold. ”

“ Mary’s eyes opened. She sat up. “Cranster and Beaumaroy?” They were the words which her ears had caught. “What in the world has Mr. Beaumaroy to do with—” But she broke off, as she saw the couple by the fire. “But what are you two doing?”
Cynthia broke away from her lover, and ran to her friend with joyous avowals.
“I must have been sound asleep,” cried Mary, kissing her. Alec had followed across the room and now stood close by her. She looked up at him. “Oh, I see! She’s to be safe now from such people?” On this particular occasion Mary’s look at the Captain was not admiring ”

“ Mary was half impatient, half reluctantly admiring; not an uncommon mixture of feeling for the extreme forms of virtue to produce. In the net result, however, her mental image of Alec lost something of its heroic proportions.
But professionally (the distinction must not be pushed too far, she was not built in water-tight compartments) Tower Cottage remained obstinately in the centre of her thoughts; and, connected with it, there arose a puzzle over Dr. Irechester's demeanour. ”