Susan Warner - Say and Seal, Volume II

"What was the colour of Cupid's?"

"Blue, certainly!"

"Miss Derrick!"—said the doctor,—"let us have your opinion."

Faith gave him at least a frank view of her own, all blushing and laughing as she was, and answered readily,—"As to the colour of Cupid's eyes?—I have never seen him, sir."

The doctor was obliged to laugh himself, and the chorus became general, at something in the combination of Faith and her words. But Faith's confusion thereupon mastered her so completely, that perhaps to shield her the doctor requested silence and attention and began to read; of a lady who, he said he was certain, had borrowed of nobody—not even of Cupid.—

"I believe she is impossible, to begin with," said Miss Essie. "You will never let any woman command you, Dr. Harrison."

"You don't know me, Miss Essie," said the doctor, with a curiously grave face, for him.

"He means—

'Who shall command my heart— not me.'"

said Mr. Linden.

"If she can command my heart—what of me is left to rebel?" said the doctor.

"Sophy," said Mrs. Somers, "how long has Julius been all heart?"

"Ever since my aunt Ellen has been all eyes and ears. Mr. Somers, which portion of your mental nature owns the supremacy of your wife? may I inquire, in the course of this investigation?"

"Ha!" said Mr. Somers blandly, thus called upon—"I own her supremacy, sir—ha—in all proper things!"

"Ha! Very proper!" said the doctor.

"That is all any good woman wants," said the old Judge benignly. "I take it, that is all she wants."

"Then you must say which are the proper things, father!" said MissSophy laughing.

"You'll have to ask every man separately, Sophy," said Mrs. Somers,—"they all have their own ideas about proper things. Mr. Somers thinks milk porridge is the limit."

"Mr. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor, "haven't you owned yourself commanded, ever since your heart gave up its lock and key?"

"Yes indeed," said the Squire earnestly,—"I am so bound up in slavery that I have even forgotten the wish to be free! All my wife's things are proper!"

"O hush!" his wife said laughing, but with a little quick bright witness in her eyes, that was pretty to see. Dr. Harrison smiled.

"You see, Miss Derrick!" he said with a little bow to her,—"there is witness on all sides;—and now I will go on with my not impossible she."—

He got through several verses, not without several interruptions, till he came to the exquisite words following;—

While Miss Essie exclaimed, Miss Harrison stole a look at Faith; who was looking up at the doctor, listening, with a very simple face of amusement. Her thoughts were indeed better ballasted than to sway to such a breeze if she had felt it. But the real extreme beauty of the image and of the delineation was what she felt; she made no application of them. The doctor came to this verse.

What does that mean, Linden?—isn't that an error in the description?"

"Poetical license," said Mr. Linden smiling. "Psyche will give you trouble enough, wings and all,—there is no fear you will find her 'tamed'."

"How is Campaspe in that respect?"

"She has never given me much trouble yet," said Mr. Linden.

"What I object to is the 'long choosing'," said the doctor. "Miss deStaff—do you think a good heart should be very hard to win?"

"Certainly!—the harder the better," replied the lady. "That's the only way to bring down your pride. The harder she is, the more likely you are to think she's a diamond."

"Mrs. Stoutenburgh!"—

"What has been the texture of yours all these years, doctor?"

"He thinks that when he has dined the rest of the world should follow suit—like the Khan of Tartary," said Mrs. Somers.

"Miss Derrick!" said the doctor—"I hope for some gentleness from you. Do you think such a heart as we have been talking of, should be very difficult to move?"

Faith's blush was exquisite. Real speech was hard to command. She knew all eyes were waiting upon her; and she could not reason out and comfort herself with the truth—that to them her blush might mean several things as well as one. The answer came in that delicate voice of hers which timidity had shaken.

"I think—it depends on what there is to move it."

"What do you call sufficient force?" said Mrs. Somers.

"I?"—said Faith.—

"Yes, you," replied the parson's wife with a look not unkindly amused."What sort and degree of power should move 'such a heart'?—to quoteJulius."

Faith's blush was painful again, and it was only the sheer necessity of the case that enabled her to rally. But her answer was clear. "Something better than itself, Mrs. Somers."

"I should like to know what that is!" said Mrs. Somers.

Mr. Linden's involuntary "And so should I"—was in a different tone, but rather drew eyes upon himself than Faith.

"It's of no consequence to you!" said the doctor, with a funny, mock serious tone of admonition.

Mr. Linden bowed, acquiescingly.—"Psychology is an interesting study"—he added, in qualification. "But let me return your warning, doctor—you have a formidable rival."

"Qui donc?"

"Cupid carried off Psyche some time ago—do you suppose you can get her back?" And with a laughing sign of adieu, Mr. Linden went away.

Luckily for Faith, she was not acquainted with the heathen mythology; and was also guiltless of any thought of connexion between herself and the doctor's ideal. So her very free, unsuspicious face and laughter quite reassured him.

"Mr. Linden is an odd sort of person," said Miss Essie philosophically. "I have studied him a good deal, and I can't quite make him out. He's a very interesting man! But I think he is deeper than he seems."

"He's deeper than the salt mines of Salzburg then!" said the doctor.

"Why?" said Miss Essie curiously.

The doctor answered gravely that "there were beautiful things there";—and went on with his reading. And Faith listened now with unwavering attention, till he came to—

Faith's mind took a leap. And it hardly came back again. The reading was followed by a very lively round game of talk; but it was not such talk; and Faith's thoughts wandered away and watched round that circlet of brightness that was covered by her glove; scattered rays from which led them variously,—home, to her Sunday school, to Pequot,—and to heaven; coming back again and again to the diamonds and to the image that was in the centre of them. No wonder her grave sweet face was remarked as being even graver and sweeter than usual; and the doctor at last devoted himself to breaking up its quiet. He took her into the library to finish the Rhododendrons—ostensibly—but in reality to get rid of the stiff circle in the other room. The circle followed; but no longer stiff; under the influence of the cold weather and the big fires and good prompting, their spirits got up at last to the pitch of acting charades. Miss Harrison brought down her stores of old and new finery; and with much zeal and success charades and tableaux went on for some length of time; to the extreme amusement of Faith, who had never seen any before. They did not divert her from watching for the sound of Mr. Linden's return; but it came not, and Miss Essie expected and hoped aloud in vain. The hour did come, and passed, at which such gatherings in Pattaquasset were wont to break up. That was not very late to be sure. The Stoutenburghs, and the De Staffs, and finally Mr. and Mrs. Somers, went off in turn; and Faith was left alone to wait; for she had refused all offers of being set down by her various friends.