Keeping up Appearances CHAPTER 3.
Back to Three Years in a Man-trap
"What does she say now?" eagerly asked Mr. Hartman of his wife, who returned to the parlor where she had left her husband an hour before, and where he had continued to walk quickly backwards and forwards, during the whole time of her absence.
"I do not think," replied Mrs. Hartman, calmly, "that anything could induce her to enter into a marriage which she does not approve; nor do I think, Lester, upon careful reflection, that we should permit her, much less compel her, to do so."
"Madness!" exclaimed Mr. Hartman, stamping passionately on the floor. "Is this the time to talk of a young girl's approval or disapproval — whims and nonsense — when ruinyawns like a gulf at our feet? Agnes! are you beside yourself?"
"I do not know," replied the wife, meekly. "Certainly, for the last two hours I have not been in my right mind."
"I will see Lucy myself!" said Hartman, firmly. "She must consent to save us from ruin. It is but little that we ask of her, in return for all that she has received from us."
Mr. Hartman was moving towards the door, when his wife laid her hand firmly upon his arm, and said,
"Lester, like me, you are beside yourself. Take more time for reflection."
"Time for reflection!" he returned, impatiently. "What shall I reflect about? Can there be any question as to what is to be done? The time for reflection has passed, and now is the time for action. One of two things must take place — the marriage of Lucy with Mr. Burnside — or my utter ruin. There is no other alternative. You may call them both evils, if you will, though I do not; but call them both evils, and can there be any hesitation about a choice between them!"
"There certainly is great hesitation in my mind, though I believe there would be none if I alone were interested."
"How would you then decide?" asked Mr. Hartman.
"To give up every external good, rather than see Lucy sacrificed!" was the firm reply. "Better for us to bear any reverse than make this dear child unhappy for life, as she must be if thrown away upon one for whom she can have no real affection."
"Real affection! nonsense! She can like him if she will. What's to hinder her?"
"It is strange, Lester, that you can ask such a question," said his wife.
"And stranger far that you can put the simple fact of a young girl's not romantically loving the man we wish her to marry — against my total destruction. It is strange, indeed! But I must see her. I am not going to be dragged under without an effort to save myself."
"Like a drowning man, I am afraid you are catching at a straw, Lester."
But before Mrs. Hartman had finished this brief sentence, he to whom it was spoken, had left the room and was beyond the sound of her voice.
The mind of Lucy had not had time to collect itself, after her aunt left her room, before she was startled by a loud and imperative knock at her door. On opening it, she found the visitor to be her uncle.
"Can I have a little conversation with you, Lucy?" he said, in a voice, which, though quiet, betrayed the agitation he endeavored to conceal.
Lucy opened wide the door of her room, and stepping back, reached a chair to Mr. Hartman. As soon as he was seated, he said,
"Lucy, your aunt has already informed you of Mr. Burnside's proposal, which I think a most advantageous one for you. I know him to be a man of excellent character; and also, to be the possessor of great wealth. Your aunt has likewise informed you of the unhappy condition of my affairs. Ruin, inevitable ruin, must fall upon me, unless you consent to accept this offer; nothing else can save me!"
"But how," asked Lucy, in surprise, "can my marrying Mr. Burnside save you from ruin?"
"Has not your aunt explained that to you?"
"No, sir."
"The connection," said Mr. Hartman, with a slight embarrassment of manner, "will give me claims upon Mr. Burnside for business aid, which otherwise I could not have. All I need is the use of a few hundred pounds, and as he has more money than he well knows what to do with, I could easily obtain from him as much as I needed. Understanding this, can you, for a moment, hesitate?"
This information greatly disturbed the mind of Lucy. It was a new and startling feature in the case. Her eyes, that had been fixed full upon her uncle's countenance, now fell to the floor, and she remained for some time in the vain endeavor to collect her thoughts.
"Lucy, can you hesitate?" repeated Mr. Hartman.
"A matter that involves so much cannot be decided in a moment," Lucy replied, lifting her eyes to the face of her uncle. "Give me time for reflection."
"How long do you want?"
"Give me until tomorrow."
"So long?"
"The time will be short for the right decision of a question that involves so much."
"Let it be until tomorrow, then. But remember, Lucy, that upon your decision rest all my hopes. A word from you — and all is gained or lost."
"Oh! say not that, uncle," returned Lucy, much disturbed.
"It is a solemn truth. Everything depends upon you. Let me implore you not to forget this!"
Saying which, Mr. Hartman arose and retired.
Something about the manner and appearance of Lucy had subdued him. Before he entered her room, he felt that he could disperse all her objections like chaff; but he found, in her presence, that he could not say half what he had intended to say, nor exert a tenth of the influence he had imagined himself to possess.
Lucy, when left alone, after the agitating interview that had passed between her and her uncle, endeavored to calm her feelings, and to think earnestly upon the subject, under thenew aspect in which it was presented to her. It was not now a simple question of whether she could like Mr. Burnside well enough to marry him, and to be decided on that ground alone. The whole subject had assumed a graver aspect, and involved matters of the first importance to others as well as to herself. Upon her act, rested the salvation or ruin of her uncle in a worldly point of view.
"What ought I to do? What is right?" she asked herself, in great perplexity, as the whole subject, with all that it involved, came up in her mind. "Should I think only of my uncle's worldly circumstances, or should I look to higher considerations? If my own interests were alone at stake, there would be no difficulty. But" — and she rested her head upon her hand thoughtfully — "but to do evil, in order to accomplish a seeming good! To sacrifice myself, body and soul — for it will be nothing less — in order to save my uncle from being ruined in business! Have I a right to do this?"
Thus she questioned herself — but it was long before she could obtain a satisfactory answer. Unfortunately for Mr. Hartman's wishes, his wife was a woman of great integrity of mind and singleness of purpose. Having no children of her own, she had taken Lucy into that place in her affections where her own children, if she had been blessed with any, would have resided. Her love for her niece led her, as her mind attained sufficient maturity to understand right precepts, to implant therein the seeds of good principles. Particularly had she, from knowing how many false views of marriage prevailed in common society, endeavored to make her understand that only when entered into from right ends, could happiness result from marriage. What these right ends were, she had carefully instructed her; and, to enforce her precepts, had pointed out many instances of marriage from selfish and sordid ends, such as a regard for things merely external, instead of mental and moral affinities. Nor had she failed to impress upon her the great injury that society as well as the individual sustains from marriage connections not based upon right views of that first and most important of all social relations. This being the case, Lucy found herself urged by her uncle, and even by her aunt, to do, what she had been most earnestly assured by the latter, would prove vitally injurious to herself as well as to others.
Lucy had always loved her uncle, and this love was mingled with gratitude. He was ever kind and affectionate, as much so as he could possibly have been had she borne to him the relation of a child. This was the first time, since she had been an inhabitant of his family, that he had asked her to do anything in her power to do, that she had not performed with alacrity and delight. Her gentle, obedient spirit, so fully seen in almost every act of her life, had, in fact, led Mr. Hartman, the moment Mr. Burnside made his unexpected proposal, to fix his mind upon Lucy's marriage with him as the most easily accomplished mode of obtaining relief in his pressing embarrassments. It was only, he believed, necessary for him to express himself in favor of the union, for his niece to approve and enter into it. Not until he mentioned the subject to his wife, did a thought of opposition from Lucy enter his mind. But Mrs, Hartman knew her better, for she knew the correct views of marriage upon which her mind was based, and unhesitatingly declared her belief that Lucy would decline Mr. Burnside's offer. This disturbed Mr. Hartman, and produced the impatient state of mind in which he had awaited the result of his wife's first interview with Lucy on the subject.
It is but justice to Mr. Hartman to say, that he was not, really, as sordid and heartless as his action in this matter, as far as seen, would make it appear. He was a man of theworld, engaged in business, and had been suffering from accumulating financial embarrassments for more than a year. Every possible mode of relief had been resorted to — but mere temporary expedients only put the evil day a little and a little further off. Just as things were about reaching a climax — the means of saving himself were unexpectedly presented, and he grasped at them with the eagerness that a drowning man catches hold of whatever comes within his reach. He could neither see nor appreciate anything but his own imminent danger. The marrying of a young girl to a man more than twice her age, whom she did not love, was a light matter in his eyes, compared with the total wreck of his fortunes, and the blasting of his good name in the mercantile world. Her hesitation to do what he wished fretted him, and blinded him still more to the real nature of the step he would compel her to take.
Lucy, as has been seen, found her situation to be one of a painfully difficult nature. Sometimes she would try to think of Mr. Burnside with favor, and endeavor to feel satisfied with becoming his wife; but the artificial state of mind thus temporarily assumed, would be quickly dissipated by her real feelings, and she would turn from the idea with horror and disgust.
"I could die, willingly — but not that — not that!" she murmured, with a shudder, as a full realization of the nature of the sacrifice she was asked to make, forced itself upon her.
As to what was passing in Lucy's thoughts, neither the uncle nor aunt was in any way apprised. At tea time, she did not make her appearance. Mr. Hartman wished his wife to go to her room, during the evening, and confer with her, that they might have some clue to the state of her mind. To wait until morning in entire ignorance of what was likely to be the result of her deliberations, seemed like waiting an age. But Mrs. Hartman declined in any way interfering with Lucy's free decision of a matter of such deep interest to herself. Secretly, she could not help entertaining the hope that her niece would decide the question from the higher principles of right, instead of from a weak deference to her uncle's unjust demand upon her to give up all that a true woman holds dear, for the sake of a temporary good to himself.
Heavily the hours passed away until bedtime, and the unhappy merchant and his wife retired — but not to sleep, except briefly and fitfully. Wearily did Mr. Hartman turn on his uncomfortable pillow throughout the long night. With the dawn he was up, and impatient to hear from Lucy. Everything hung upon a word from her.
Back to Three Years in a Man-trap