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Kate Seymour Maclean - "The Coming of the Princess and Other Poems"

H. E. Marshall Author: Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall - "This Country Of Ours"

Madame D'Arblay - "The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume 3"

George Meredith - "The Tragic Comedians, Complete"

The Hand But Not the Heart

T >> T.S. Arthur >> The Hand But Not the Heart




"A matter of the heart, I believe," said Mrs. Denison.

"Indeed is he very much depressed?"

"He is changed," was the simple reply.

"Who was the lady?"

Jessie did not hear the answer.

"You don't tell me so!" In a tone of surprise, and the lady glanced
around the room.

"And he took it very much to heart?" she went on.

"Yes. I think it will change the complexion of his whole life," said
Mrs. Denison. "He is a man of deep feeling--somewhat peculiar; over
diffident; and not given to showing himself off to the best
advantage. But he is every inch a man--all gold and no tinsel! I
have known him from boyhood, and speak of his quality from certain
knowledge."

"He will get over it," remarked the lady. "Men are not apt to go
crazy after pretty girls. The market is full of such attractions."

"It takes more than a painted butterfly to dazzle him, my friend,"
said Mrs. Denison. "His eyes are too keen, and go below the surface
at a glance. The woman he loves may regard the fact as a high
testimonial."

"But you don't suppose he is going to break his heart over this
matter."

"No--oh, no! That is an extreme disaster."

"He will forget her in time; and there are good fish in the sea
yet."

"Time is the great restorer," said Mrs. Denison; "and time will
show, I trust, that good will come from this severe trial which my
young friend is now enduring. These better natures are oftenest
exposed to furnace heat, for only they have gold enough to stand the
ordeal of fire."

"He is wrong to shut himself out from society."

"So I tell him. But he says 'wait--wait, I am not strong enough
yet.'"

"He must, indeed, take the matter deeply to heart."

"He does."

Here the voice fell to such a low measure, that Jessie lost all
distinction of words. But the few sentences which had reached her
ears disturbed her spirit profoundly--too profoundly to make even a
ripple on the surface. No one saw a change on her countenance, and
her voice, answering a moment after to the voice of a friend,
betrayed no unusual sign of feeling.

And this was all she had heard of him for months.

Once, a little while before her marriage, she met him. It was a few
weeks after these brief unsatisfactory sentences had troubled the
waters of her spirit. She had been out with her aunt for the purpose
of selecting her wedding attire; and after a visit to the
dressmaker's, was returning alone, her aunt wishing to make a few
calls at places where Jessie did not care to go. She was crossing
one of the public squares when the thought of Hendrickson came
suddenly into her mind. Her eyes were cast down at the moment.
Looking up, involuntarily, she paused, for within a few paces was
the young man himself, approaching from the opposite direction. He
paused also, and they stood with eyes riveted upon each other's
faces--both, for a time, too much embarrassed to speak. Their hands
had mutually clasped, and Hendrickson was holding that of Jessie
tightly compressed within his own.

The first to regain self-possession was Miss Loring. With a quick
motion she withdrew her hand, and moved back a single step. The
mantling flush left her brow, and the startled eyes looked calmly
into the young man's face.

"Have you been away from the city, Mr. Hendrickson?" she inquired,
in a voice that gave but few signs of feeling.

"No." He could not trust himself to utter more than a single word.

"I have missed you from the old places," she said.

"Have you? It is something, even to be missed?" He could not
suppress the tremor in his voice.

"Good morning!"

Jessie almost sprang past him, and hurried away. The tempter was at
her side; and she felt it to be an hour of weakness. She must either
yield or fly--and she fled; fled with rapid unsteady feet, pausing
not until the door of her own chamber shut out all the world and
left her alone with Heaven. Weak, trembling, exhausted she bowed
herself, and in anguish of spirit prayed--

"Oh, my Father, sustain me! Give me light, strength, patience,
endurance. I am walking darkly, and the way is rough and steep. Let
me not fall. The floods roar about me--let me not sink beneath them.
My heart is failing under its heavy burden. Oh, bear me up! The sky
is black--show me some rift in the clouds, for I am fainting in this
rayless night. And oh, if I dare pray for _him_--if the desire for
his happiness springs from no wrong sentiment--let this petition
find favor--as he asked that I might be kept spotless as the angels,
so keep him; and after he has passed through the furnace, let not
even the smell of fire be upon him. Send him a higher blessing than
that which he has lost. Oh Lord, give strength to both--especially
to her whose voice is now ascending, for she is weakest, and will
have most to endure."

For a long time after the murmur of prayer had died on her lips,
Jessie remained prostrate. When she arose at last, it was with a
slow, weary movement, dreary eyes, and absent manner. The shock of
this meeting had been severe--disturbing her too profoundly for even
the soothing influence of prayer. She did not arise from her knees
comforted--scarcely strengthened. A kind of benumbing stupor
followed.

"What ails the girl!" said Mrs. Loring to herself as she vainly
strove at dinner-time to draw her forth into lively conversation.
"She gets into the strangest states--just like her poor mother! And
like her I'm afraid, sometimes, will make herself and every one else
around her miserable. I pity Leon Dexter, if this be so. He may find
that his caged bird will not sing. Already the notes are few and far
between; and little of the old sweetness remains."






CHAPTER VIII.





A FEW days after the meeting between Mr. Hendrickson and Miss
Loring, as just mentioned, Mr. Dexter received the following
communication:

"DEAR SIR--I am scarcely well enough acquainted with you to venture
this note and request; but I happen to know of something so vital to
your happiness, that I cannot feel conscience-clear and not ask an
interview. I shall be at home this evening.

"ALICE DENISON."

Early in the evening, Dexter was at the house of Mrs. Denison.

"You have frightened me my dear madam!" he said, almost abruptly, as
he entered the parlor, where he found her awaiting him.

"I have presumed on a slight acquaintance, Mr. Dexter, to ask an
interview on a very delicate subject," Mrs. Denison replied. "May I
speak freely, and without danger of offending, when no offence is
designed?"

"I have not had the pleasure of knowing you intimately, Mrs.
Denison," replied the visitor, "but it has been no fault of mine. I
have always held you in high regard; and always been gratified with
our passing intercourse on the few occasions it has been my
privilege to meet you. That you have felt enough concern for my
welfare to ask this interview, gratifies me. Say on--and speak
freely. I am eager to hear."

"You are about to marry Jessie Loring," said Mrs. Denison.

"I am." And Dexter fixed his eyes with a look of earnest inquiry
upon the lady's face.

Mrs. Denison had come to the subject more abruptly than she at first
intended, and she was already in doubt as to her next remark; but
there could be no holding back now.

"Are you sure, Mr. Dexter, that you possess her undivided heart?"

"I marvel at your question, madam!" he answered, with a start, and
in a tone of surprise.

"Calmly, my friend." And Mrs. Denison, who was a woman of remarkably
clear perceptions, laid her hand upon his arm. "I am not questioning
idly, nor to serve any sinister or hidden purpose--but am influenced
by higher motives. Nor am I acting at the instance of another. What
passes between us this evening shall be sacred. I said that I knew
of something vital to your happiness; therefore I asked this
interview. And now ponder well my question, and be certain that you
get the right answer."

Dexter let his eyes fall. He sat for a long while silent, but
evidently in earnest thought.

"Have you her full, free, glad assent to the approaching union?"
asked Mrs. Denison, breaking in upon his silence. She saw a shade of
impatience on his countenance as he looked up and checked the words
that were on his lips, by saying:

"Marriage is no light thing, my young friend. It is a relation
which, more than any other, makes or mars the future; and when
entered into, should be regarded as the must solemn act of life.
Here all error is fatal. The step once taken, it cannot be retraced.
Whether the path be rough or even, it must be pursued to the end. If
the union be harmonious--internally so, I mean--peace, joy, interior
delight will go on, finding daily increase--if inharmonious, eternal
discord will curse the married partners. Do not be angry with me
then, for pressing the question--Have you her full, free, glad,
assent to the approaching union? If not, pause--for your
love-freighted bark may be drifting fast upon the breakers--and not
yours only, but hers.

"I have reason to fear, Mr. Dexter," continued Mrs. Denison, seeing
that her visitor did not attempt to reply, but sat looking at her in
a kind of bewildered surprise, "that you pressed your suit too
eagerly, and gained a half unwilling consent. Now, if this be so,
you are in great danger of making shipwreck. An ordinary
woman--worldly, superficial, half-hearted, or no-hearted--even if
she did not really love you, would find ample compensation in your
fortune, and in the social advantages it must secure. But depend
upon it, sir, these will not fill the aching void that must be in
Jessie Loring's heart, if you have no power to fill it with your
image--for she is no ordinary woman. I have observed her carefully
since this engagement, and grieve to see that she is not happy. Have
you seen no change?"

Mrs. Denison waited for an answer.

"She is not so cheerful; I have noticed that," replied the young
man.

"Have you ever questioned in your own mind as to the cause?"

"Often."

"And what was the solution!"

"I remain ignorant of the cause."

"Mr. Dexter; _I_ am not ignorant of the cause!"

"Speak, then, in Heaven's name!"

The young man betrayed a deeper excitement than he wished to
manifest. He had been struggling with himself.

"Her heart is not yours!" said Mrs. Denison, with suppressed
feeling. "It is a hard saying, but I speak it in the hope of saving
both you and the maiden from a life of wretchedness."

"By what authority and under what instigation do you say this?" was
demanded almost angrily. "You are going a step too far, madam!"

The change in his manner was very sudden.

"I speak from myself only," replied Mrs. Denison, calmly.

"If her heart is not mine, whose is it?" Dexter showed strong
excitement.

"I am not her confidant."

"Who is? Somebody must speak from her, if I am to credit your
assertion."

"Calm yourself, my young friend," said Mrs. Denison; "there are
signs which a woman can read as plainly as if they were written
words; and I have felt too deep an interest in this matter not to
have marked every sign. Miss Loring is not happy, and the shadow
upon her spirit grows darker every day. Before this engagement, her
glad soul looked ever out in beauty from her eyes; now--but I need
not describe to you the change. You have noted its progress. It is
an extreme conclusion that her heart is not in the alliance she is
about to form."

A long silence followed.

"If you were certain that I am right--if, with her own lips, Jessie
Loring were to confirm what I have said--what then?"

"I would release her from this engagement; and she might go her
ways! The world is wide."

He spoke with some bitterness.

"The way is plain, then. From what I have said, you are fully
warranted in talking to her without reserve. Quote me if you please.
Say that I made bold to assert that you did not possess the key that
would unlock the sacred places of her heart; and you may add
further, that I say the _key is held by another_. This will bring
the right issue. If she truly loves you, there will be no mistaking
her response. If she accepts the release you offer, happy will you
be in making the most fortunate escape of your life."

"I will do it!" exclaimed Dexter, rising, "and this very night!"

"If done at all, it were well done quickly," said Mrs. Denison,
rising also. "And now, my young friend, let what will be the result,
think of me as one who, under the pressure of a high sense of
responsibility, has simply discharged a painful duty. I have no
personal or private ends to gain; all I desire is to save two hearts
from making shipwreck. If successful, I shall have my reward."

"One question, Mrs. Denison," said Dexter, as they were about
separating. "Its answer may give me light, and the strength to go
forward. I have marked your words and manner very closely; and this
is my conclusion: You not only believe that I do not possess the
love of Jessie Loring, but your thought points to another man whom
you believe does rule in her affections. Am I wrong?"

The suddenness of the question confused Mrs. Denison. Her eyes sunk
under his gaze, and for some moments her self possession was lost.
But, rallying herself, she answered:

"Not wholly wrong."

Dexter's countenance grew dark.

"His name!--give me his name!"

He spoke with agitation.

"That is going a step too far," said Mrs. Denison, with firmness.

"Is it Hendrickson?"

Dexter looked keenly into the lady's face.

"A step too far, sir," she repeated. "I cannot answer your inquiry."

"You _must_ answer it, madam!" He was imperative. "I demand the yes
or no. Is it or is it not Paul Hendrickson?"

"Your calmer reason, sir, will tell you to-morrow that I was right
in refusing to give any man's name in this connection," replied Mrs.
Denison. "I am pained to see you so much disturbed. My hope was,
that you would go to Miss Loring in the grave dignity of
manhood--But, while in this spirit of angry excitement, I pray you
keep far from her."

"Hendrickson is the man!" said Dexter, his brows still contracting
heavily. "But if he still hopes to rival me in Jessie's love, he
will find himself vastly in error. No, no, madam! If it is for him
you are interested, you had better give it up. I passed him in the
race long ago!"

A feeling of disgust arose in the mind of Mrs. Denison, mingled with
a stronger feeling of contempt. But she answered without a visible
sign of either.

"I am sorry that you have let the form of any person come in to give
right thought and honorable purpose a distorting bias. I did hope
that you would see Miss Loring under the influence of a better
state. And I pray you still to be calm, rational, generous, manly.
Go to her in a noble, unselfish spirit. If you love her truly you
desire her happiness; and to make her happy, would even release her
pledged hand, were such a sacrifice needed."

"You give me credit for more virtue than I claim to possess," was
answered, a little sarcastically. "Love desires to hold, not lose
its object."

"Enough, my young friend," said Mrs. Denison, in her calm, earnest
way. "We will not bandy words--that would be fruitless. I grieve
that you should have misunderstood me in even the least thing, or
let the slightest suggestion of a sinister motive find a lodgment in
your mind. I have had no purpose but a good one to serve, and shall
be conscience-clear in the matter. A more delicate task than this
was never undertaken. That I have not succeeded according to my
wishes, is no matter of surprise."

"Good evening, madam!"

Dexter bowed with a cold formality.

"Good evening!" was mildly returned.

And so the young man went away.

"I fear that only harm will come of this," said Mrs. Denison, as she
retired from the door. "I meant it for the best, and pray that no
evil may follow the indiscretion, if such it be!"






CHAPTER IX.





MRS. DENISON'S fears were prophetic. Evil, not good, came of her
well meant efforts to prevent the coming sacrifice. Instead of
awakening generous impulses in the mind of Leon Dexter, only anger
and jealousy were aroused; and as they gained strength, love
withdrew itself, for love could not breathe the same atmosphere. The
belief that Hendrickson was the man to whom Mrs. Denison referred,
was fully confirmed by this fact. Dexter had resolved to see Miss
Loring that very evening, and was only a short distance from her
home, and in sight of the door, when he saw a man ascend the steps
and ring. He stopped and waited. A servant came to the door and the
caller entered. For a time, the question was revolved as to whether
he should follow, or not.

"It is Hendrickson. I'll wager my life on it!"--he muttered,
grinding his teeth together. "There is a cursed plot on foot, and
this insinuating, saintly Mrs. Denison, is one of the plotters! My
very blood is seething at the thought. Shall I go in now, and
confront him at his devilish work?"

"It were better not," he said, after a brief struggle with his
feelings. "I am too excited, and cannot answer for myself. A false
step now might ruin all. First, let me cage my singing bird, and
then"--

He strode onwards and passed the house of Mrs. Loring with rapid
steps. There was a light in the parlor, and he heard the sound of
voices. Ten minutes after, he returned--the light was there still;
but though he went by slowly, with noiseless
footsteps--listening--not a murmur reached his ears.

"He is there, a subtle tempter, whispering his honeyed allurements!"
It was the fiend Jealousy speaking in his heart. "Madness!" he
ejaculated, and he strode up the marble steps. Grasping the bell, he
resolved to enter. But something held back his hand, and another
voice said--"Wait! Wait! A single error now were fatal."

Slowly he descended, his ear bent to the windows, listening--slowly,
still listening, he moved onwards again; his whole being convulsed
in a stronger conflict of passion than he had ever known--reason at
fault and perception blindfold.

A full half hour had elapsed, when Dexter reappeared. He was in a
calmer frame of mind. Reason was less at fault, and perception
clearer. His purpose was to go in now, confront Jessie and Mr.
Hendrickson, and act from that point onward as the nature of the
case might suggest. He glanced at the parlor windows. There was no
light there now. The visitor had departed. He felt relieved, yet
disappointed.

"Is Miss Loring at home?" he asked of the servant.

"Yes, sir." And he entered. The lights, which were burning low in
the parlors, were raised, and Dexter sat down and awaited the
appearance of Jessie.

How should he meet her? With the warmth of a lover, or the distance
of a mere acquaintance? Would it be wise to speak of his interview
with Mrs. Denison, or let that subject pass untouched by even the
remotest allusion? Mr. Dexter was still in debate, when he heard
some one descending the stairs. Steps were in the passage near the
door. He arose, and stood expectant.

"Miss Loring says, will you please excuse her this evening?"

"Excuse her!" Mr. Dexter could not veil his surprise. "Why does she
wish to be excused, Mary?"

"I don't know sir. She didn't say."

"Is she sick?"

"I don't think she is very well. Something isn't right with her,
poor child!"

"What isn't right with her?"

"I don't know, sir. But she was crying when I went into her room."

"Crying?"

"Yes, sir; and she cries a great deal, all alone there by herself,
sir," added Mary, who had her own reasons for believing that Dexter
was not really the heart-choice of Jessie--and with the tact of her
sex, took it upon herself to throw a little cold water over his
ardor. It may be that she hoped to give it a thorough chill.

"What does she cry about, Mary?"

"Dear knows, sir! I often wonder to see it, and she so soon to be
married. It doesn't look just natural. There's something wrong."

"Wrong? How wrong, Mary?"

"That's just what I asked myself over and over again," replied the
girl.

"She had a visitor here to-night," said Dexter, after a moment or
two. He tried to speak indifferently; but the quick perception of
Mary detected the covert interest in his tones.

"Yes." A single cold (sic) monosylable was her reply.

"Who was he?"

"'Deed I don't know, sir."

"Was he a stranger?"

"I didn't see him, sir," answered Mary.

"You let him in?"

"No, sir. The cook went to the door."

Dexter bit his lips with disappointment.

"Will you say to Miss Loring that I wish to see her particularly
to-night."

Mary hesitated.

"Why don't you take up my request?" He spoke with covert impatience.

"I am sure she wishes to be excused to-night," persisted the girl.
"She's not at all herself; and it will be cruel to drag her down."

But Dexter waved his hand, and said, sharply:

"I wish to hear no more from you, Miss Pert! Go to Miss Loring, and
tell her that she will confer a favor by seeing me this evening. I
can receive no apology but sickness."

Jessie was sitting as Mary had left her, both hands covering her
face, when that kind-hearted creature returned.

"It's too much!" exclaimed the girl, as she entered. "He must see
you, he says. I told him you wasn't well, and wished to be excused.
But no, he must see you! Something's gone wrong with him. He's all
out of sorts, and spoke as if he'd take my head off. He really
frightened me!"

Jessie drew a long deep sigh.

"If I must, I must," she said, rising and looking at her face in the
mirror.

"_I_ wouldn't go one step, Miss Jessie, if I were you. I'd like to
see the man who dared order me down in this style. He's jealous;
that's the long and short of it. Punish him--he deserves it."

"Jealous, Mary?" Miss Loring turned to the girl with a startled
look. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, he asked me if you hadn't a visitor to-night."

"Well?"

"I said yes. Only 'yes,' and no more."

"Why yes, and no more?" asked Miss Loring.

"D'ye think I was going to gratify him! What business had he to ask
whether you had a visitor or not? You ain't sold to him."

"Mary!" There was reproof in the look and voice of Miss Loring. "You
must not speak so of Mr. Dexter."

"Well, I won't if it displeases you. But I was downright mad with
him."

"You said yes to his question. What then, Mary?"

"Oh, then he wanted to know who he was."

"Did you tell him?"

"No."

"Why? And what did you answer?"

"I wasn't going to gratify him; and I said that I didn't know."

"Well?"

"'Was he a stranger?' said he. 'I didn't see him,' said I. 'You let
him in?' said he. 'No, the cook went to the door,' said I. You
should have seen him then. He was baffled. Then looking almost
savage, he bid me tell you that you must see him to-night."

"_Must_ see him! Did he say _must_?"

There was rebellion in Jessie's voice.

"Well no, not just that word. But he looked and meant it, which is
all the same."

"Then he doesn't know who called to see me?"

"Not from all he got from me, miss. But you're not going down?"

"Yes, Mary; I will see him as he desires. Go and say that I will
join him in a few minutes."

The girl obeyed, and Jessie, after struggling a few moments with her
feelings, went down to the parlor, where Mr. Dexter awaited her.

"I am sorry to learn that you are not well this evening," said the
young man, as he advanced across the room, with his eyes fixed
intently on the face of his betrothed. She tried to smile, and
receive him with her usual kindness of manner. But this was
impossible. She had been profoundly disturbed, and that too recently
for self-possession.

"What ails you? Has anything happened?"

Jessie had not yet trusted her lips with words. The tones of Dexter
evinced some fretfulness.

"I am not very well," she said, partly turning away her face that
she might avoid the searching scrutiny of his eyes.

Dexter took her hand and led her to a sofa. They sat down, side by
side, in silence--ice between them.

"Have you been indisposed all day?" inquired Dexter.

"I have not been very well for some time," was answered in a husky
voice, and in a manner that he thought evasive.

Again there was silence.

"I called to see Mrs. Denison this evening," said Dexter; and then
waited almost breathlessly for a response, looking at Jessie
stealthily to note the effect of his words.

"Did you?"

There was scarcely a sign of interest in her voice.

"Yes. You have met her, I believe?"

"A few times."

"Have you seen her recently?"

"No."

Dexter gained nothing by this advance.

"What do you think of her?" he added, after a pause.

"She is a lady of fine social qualities and superior worth."

Again the young man was silent. He could not discover by Jessie's
manner that she had any special interest in Mrs. Denison. This was
some relief; for it removed the impression that there was an
understanding between them.

"I don't admire her a great deal," he said, with an air of
indifference. "She's a little too prying and curious; and I'm
afraid, likes to gossip."

"Ah! I thought her particularly free from that vice."

"I had that impression also. But my interview this evening gave me a
different estimate of her character."

"Did you come from Mrs. Denison's directly here?" asked Jessie in a
changed tone, as if some thought of more than common interest had
flitted through her mind. This change Dexter did not fail to
observe.

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