Lovers and Husbands CHAPTER 10.
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As Garnett had made no direct proposal to Flora, her course was not a difficult one. That such a proposal was to be made she had no reason to doubt, for she had been so informed by Emily. In the afternoon she returned to the house of Mrs. Whitney, and very frankly stated to her where she had been, what she had heard — and, still farther, whateffect had been produced upon her mind.
To the effect Emily mainly looked. That disturbed her. In the cause there was nothing to her adequate to such an effect.
"My dear friend," she said, anxiously, "surely you do not intend making a matter of this kind a reason for declining the attentions of a man like Mr. Garnett?"
"I certainly do, Emily!" was the firm reply.
"But why should you? His profession, and the manner of his prosecuting it, has nothing to do with him as a lover, or, indeed, as a husband. It is at home, not in business, that we are to regard the man of our choice. If we are truly loved and cared for, we need not trouble ourselves about how business is conducted. That is a matter outside of our province — a matter of which we cannot judge correctly."
At this moment a sealed note, enveloped in perfumed tinted paper, was handed to Flora by the waiter, who had just received it at the door. She broke the seal, without retiring. It was from Garnett, and contained an offer of his hand in marriage. The face of the maiden grew instantly pale. Twice she read the note, and then handed it to her friend. A silence of some moments ensued, when Emily said,
"Flora, you will not, you cannot decline this offer!"
"I both will and can!" was the firm reply, although her face still remained very pale. "I will never marry a man whose principles I despise as heartily as I despise those of Mr. Garnett!"
"You are beside yourself, Flora. How can ever false principles, assuming them to be such, acted upon in the mere business relations of life — affect the strength and purity of a man's love for his wife?"
"They must and will affect it!" Flora said, earnestly.
"I cannot conceive how!"
"It is no problem to my mind, Emily."
"It is, to mine, a problem hard to solve."
"You will admit," said Flora, "that one man may have a love of truth and justice grounded in the internal of his mind — and another a love of truth and justice that is merelyassumed?"
"Yes."
"Very well. The first of these characters, then, will show his love of truth and justice in every relation of life; the latter, merely when it subserves his own ends. Cannot you see a great difference between the two?"
"Yes, I think I can."
"Let me lay down another axiom. A man can only truly love in another, what has some affinity for like things in himself. I then ask myself, For what am I loved? Is it for thoseprinciples of truth and justice that I am seeking to love supremely, or is it for something external to these? For my person or accomplishments, for instance? If I discover that the individual who thus seeks my favor does not really love these good interior principles, then it is clear that he cannot love me, even if he sees them in me, from any genuine affection for them. He must love me for my person and accomplishments only. Now, if for these alone I am loved — these external things, which must, from familiarity, lose daily and hourly their influence — then by what power am I to hold permanently a husband's affections? If he had no real love for the principles from which I act — can see no beauty in them — but rather feels them as opposed to all his ends of life, how is it possible for us to be more and more conjoined in heart, as time progresses, and we get to know each other more and more interiorly? Can you answer that question, Emily?"
"You are merely supposing objections of a nature too abstract to bear upon real life," was the cold reply to this.
"Emily!" ejaculated her young friend, in painful surprise.
"I confess I cannot see anything very conclusive in your axioms or arguments. They fly far above my head."
"I am sorry for it," Flora said, in a changed voice. "Certain it is, however, that between me and the writer of this note" (holding up the proposal of Garnett) "there is a great gulf fixed — and fixed forever! I tremble when I think of the infatuation in regard to him, under which I have been laboring."
It was in vain that her friend urged her to take time for reflection before deciding to reject the offer just made to her to meet Garnett, and let him explain the things to which she objected. Flora was immovable. On the next day she returned to her suitor his note, with an answer, in which she declined meeting his proposal; and in the evening was at Rose Hill, opening up to her mother her whole heart.
As soon as Garnett had received the answer to his note, he sought out his particular friend Whitney, and asked of him an explanation of Flora's conduct.
"She's a fool! That's the best explanation I can give," was the impatient reply of Whitney.
"But I want a more satisfactory reason than that," Garnett said.
"You were so unfortunate as to be retained in a case against a particular friend of hers."
"What case?"
"That of Hartzog against the estate of Harper."
"Is Mrs. Harper her friend?"
"Yes; the families are intimate."
"The result was, however, in her favor."
"Yes, I know; but the prying, forward gipsy, if I must so speak of her, went to the courtroom in disguise, for the very purpose of seeing how you would conduct the case. You happened not to do the thing exactly according to her liking, and for this reason she has given you the slip."
"You must certainly be jesting," Garnett replied to this, the color mounting to his face.
"No, I am not. She told Emily all about it; and how you tried your best, as a lawyer, to wrong Mrs. Harper out of her property; or, in other words, gain your client's cause."
"As I was in duty bound to do."
"Of course; but the girl thinks herself a wonderfully wise one. Emily tells me, now, that she tried her best to persuade her not to marry me, alleging it as her opinion that I would neglect and abuse my wife before ten years had passed over our heads!"
"Really, I am confounded! Can all this be true?"
"Yes, as true as that you are alive."
"And she really disguised herself and came into the courtroom during the progress of the trial?"
"She did, upon her own confession."
"And took a prejudice against me because I strove, like an honest man, to gain my client's cause?"
"Yes."
"And tried to break off the match between you and Emily?"
"She did." Was ever such a piece of bold-faced duplicity acted out in real life before? Am I not fortunate in having escaped before a discovery of my mistake would have been in vain? Happy riddance! say I."
"Yes, that you may say with truth and feeling. For my part, I confess myself to have been strangely deceived in Flora Elton. I always thought her a frank, sensible girl; but this affair has presented her in other colors. Poor Emily is greatly troubled by her conduct, and tries to make excuses for her; but I won't hear a word in her favor, and have told Emily that she must cease to hold any farther fellowship with her. I think her to be a very dangerous friend to my wife. She knows too much."
"Where is she now?"
"She left this morning for Rose Hill."
"Where I hope she may stay!"
"Where she will stay, for all I can do," Whitney said, angrily.
"There are good fish yet in the sea," Garnett remarked, after a short silence, in a mirthful tone, rising and walking the floor with a brisk air.
"Yes, and much more easily caught than that floundering torpedo that has just broken the meshes of your net."
"And, when caught, worth a thousand of her."
"Oh! ay, in more senses than one. I have several times wondered that the modest little Rose Hill should have outweighed in your estimation — the more substantial claims of a certain splendid estate on Long Island, that could be named, backed by half a million in city expectancies."
"Haven't you guessed the reason before this?"
"No."
"Flora is a girl of brilliant mind. She would shine with the best, so far as intelligence is concerned."
"Well?"
"The heir-expectant of a large Long Island estate is a simpering, silly little creature; well enough to dance with — but not exactly the kind of companion wanted by a man with my views in life. I wish to have a wife of whose intellect I shall not be ashamed; one of whom I shall feel really proud. It was this reason, and this only, that induced me to pass by many golden attractions and fix upon Flora Elton."
"But the golden attractions will now take the ascendant, I presume."
"Perhaps so; but I am not yet able to speak upon this subject. I have been knocked down so suddenly, that, although on my feet again, I do not yet see clearly. After a while I shall understand myself better, I hope."
The young lady to whom allusion was made so lightly was named Arabella Lyon. She resided in the family of a rich uncle and aunt in the city, who had no children of their own. In the eyes of everyone, Arabella was the heir in expectancy, as Whitney had said, of the large fortune of her uncle, Mr. Lorman. This tempting expectancy had exercised a strong influence, in times past, upon Garnett; but ambition was a powerful principle in his mind, and from this, looking to a high position in society, not from wealth — but talent, he felt bound to seek one for a wife of more intellect than was displayed by the sprightly little Arabella Lyon.
Disappointed in his suit with Flora Elton, he soon began to think, with something of his former seriousness, of Miss Lyon. "After all," he argued with himself, "it might be bad policy to get a woman of too much sense for a wife. She might prove hard to manage; and to be checked and called to account by a wife, is what I never could stand."
Finally, Garnett came to the conclusion that half a million dollars would be much more easily managed — than a wife who had too much sense; and upon this conclusion he acted. His attentions to Arabella were renewed — but did not meet with much favor from Mr. Lorman, who had never imagined the young attorney. An offer for her hand was next made. This the uncle declined, although the niece was very willing. A secret marriage was the result. When this became known to Mr. Lorman, he was deeply incensed; but, being much attached to his niece, she was, after a time, forgiven, and received again into the old man's affections.
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