Lovers and Husbands CHAPTER 6.
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It was some time after Flora entered her own room, before her mind became sufficiently composed, and her thoughts calm enough to enable her to ascertain the true nature of her own feelings. As soon as she could read her heart with anything like an accurate perception of its true state, she found that she had been far too well-pleased with Mr. Garnett's attentions.
"Who and what is he?" was a question that she put to herself with unflinching resolution. The answer was not entirely satisfactory. He was a young man of education — his tastes had been well cultivated — his exterior was attractive. But of his moral qualities she could not speak from any certain knowledge. Her heart plead for him; but reason was not satisfied, and reason's voice confirmed her first perception of a right course, which was to return at once to Rose Hill, and there, entirely removed from his society, and from the half-bewildering excitement of a city life passed amid a round of festivities — weigh the whole subject dispassionately. In her mother's judgment, she had the highest confidence, and on this judgment she determined to repose if Garnett pressed his suit, as Emily's words led her to believe that he would.
As she had declared — so she acted. On the evening of the next day she was with her mother at Rose Hill. On the same evening Garnett called in to see her at the newly-arranged dwelling of Charles Whitney and his young wife. The former sat alone in one of their handsome parlors.
"Ah, good-evening, good-evening, Garnett!" said Whitney, taking his friend's hand: "you are just too late — the bird has flown."
"How?"
"Flora is at Rose Hill long before this."
"At Rose Hill!" said Garnett, with surprise and chagrin. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Emily hinted to her that you felt something like a preference for her, and she fluttered off in instant alarm!"
"By George! but that is a good sign; don't you think so?"
"I don't know — perhaps it is; but Flora is an odd creature, and apt to get crotchets into her head; and, what is worse, these crotchets are too apt to stick there."
"What is your opinion about the matter as it now stands? Or, what is your wife's opinion? that is worth a dozen of yours."
"My own opinion is, that it's a little ruse — an attempt to play shy, to see if you think her worth taking some trouble to secure. I have always thought her as proud as Lucifer himself; and with a little something hanging to one corner of her heart, shaped like an icicle."
"But your wife's opinion? I wouldn't give a snap for yours when hers is to be had. What does she think?"
"She? Why, she thinks you can win Flora easily enough if you will follow her up."
"She does?"
"Yes, that's her opinion."
"And mine too; but there was no use in her flying off at a tangent. I don't see any sense in that."
"He who wins Flora Elton must woo her; don't you say so, Emily?"
The young wife entered at this moment.
"Say what?" asked Emily, after she had briefly greeted Garnett.
"That whoever wins Flora must woo her?"
"Certainly. No maiden is won before she is wooed."
"How in the world did you come to let your friend run away in such a hurry?" Garnett now said, smiling, and in a less concerned voice.
"Oh, as to that," was the reply, "Flora is a resolute little body, and when she makes up her mind to do a thing, all the world couldn't stop her. She took it into her head all at once that she would go back to Rose Hill. I coaxed, and persuaded, and scolded — but it was all to no purpose. Home she had determined to go — and home she went."
"Rose Hill? How far is that from the city?"
"About five miles."
"In New-Jersey?"
"Yes."
"I must call on her, then, at Rose Hill, I suppose. Do you think I would be welcome?"
"Oh yes. Everybody receives a warm welcome at Rose Hill. But there is a rival there!" Emily laughed as she said this.
"Indeed!" ejaculated Garnett, looking half alarmed. "A formidable one?"
"That I can hardly tell. You never know exactly how to take Flora. If it was any other girl, I would hardly think a booby of a country doctor to be feared as a rival — where youcame into the field."
"Thank you for your compliment! But who or what is this booby of a country doctor, as you call him?"
"He is just what I have called him. The term 'booby' expresses the idea capitally; but if you wish me to be more explicit, I will say, that of all the awkward, ungainly, boorish-looking fellows that I have met in civilized society — Doctor Arlington bears off the palm!"
"And he, you think, is a rival?"
"I can hardly believe so; but still, it is true that Flora would never let me laugh at him without bestowing on me a lecture for my pains."
"Does he visit her regularly?"
"As clockwork."
"With serious intentions?"
"No doubt in the world of it; but, of course, he cannot stand a moment's chance — if you seriously contend for her favor."
"That I intend doing in right good earnest."
"I hope you will. I would never get over it in the world, if she were to throw herself away upon such a fellow as that Arlington. She is too lovely a girl to be sacrificed thus. But if you address her, I have no doubt of your success. My word for it, a lovelier one than she — lovely in mind especially — is not numbered among either your acquaintances or mine."
"So I think," returned Garnett. "From the first she interested me. A more intimate acquaintance with her, has only made apparent new features of loveliness, which are more attractive than those at first seen."
"And the longer and more intimately you know her, the more she will charm you. Flora is one who wears well. Her best points are not at first seen — are not, it seems to me, ever all seen. Each recurring day shows something new to admire."
This only had the effect to stimulate Garnett in the pursuit of Flora. He, as may have been seen, was hoping for her, something more than a mere passing preference. As has been already stated, he was a young attorney, in practice at the New York bar. His family was reputable and wealthy, and he an only son. Great expense had been lavished upon his education by his father, who felt ambitious that his son should become distinguished in some way. The young man promised well — that is, promised to become eminent as a man of talents. Inheriting from his father a love of distinction — he was stimulated to application and activity in his profession, by the hope of one day occupying a high position in the eye of his country. Already he was beginning to rise above the struggling — but less gifted mass of young attorneys — already he had been alluded to in warm terms of commendation by some of the newspapers. These indications of success flattered his vanity, quickened the energies of his mind, and confirmed him in his already well-formed resolution to stand high in the estimation of his countrymen — not as a benefactor — but as a man of distinguishing talents.
Like that of the great mass, his ambition regarded his own glory, not his country's good — and therein lay his danger. A genuine love of country will sustain a man, no matter how high his elevation, as it sustained the great and good Washington, amid the strongest trials; but mere self-love, after it has carried a man up to a pinnacle of the temple of fame, will, like another Satan, tempt him to cast himself down headlong, and too often, alas! with success; but no promised angels bear him up; he is dashed in pieces by the fall.
The end which Garnett set before him being his own elevation, for the sake of the honor that would become his due — he regarded all the means to the attainment of that end which could be used as perfectly legitimate. It made no difference to him whether a cause that came into his hands was clearly just or clearly unjust. Indeed, the worse the cause, the more willing was he often to undertake it; for then he had the chance of displaying the force of his talents, and, by that mere force, turning even the course of justice aside. To gain a just cause was not, in his estimation, half so creditable as to gain a bad one. In the former, he had in his favor the court's common sense of justice; but, in the latter, he had to put down by sophistical reasonings, that common sense of justice — or so obscure it that it could no longer clearly discriminate the right from the wrong. Nor had he much clearer perceptions in regard to his duties in ordinary society; or, to speak more correctly, as a man acting out of the sphere of his regular calling. The gratification of something in himself was always his governing end.
Thus, in the preference he felt for Flora, there was no thought of mutual happiness — no careful scanning of his ruling loves and hers, to see if there could be that true unity between them, whose natural products is mutual happiness. What really captivated him was her strong, discriminating mind, which had been well educated. He looked confidently to a high position in society, and he wanted a wife who could do her husband credit as an intellectual and accomplished woman. Flora, he soon perceived, was fit to shine, and that with luster — place her as high as he could; and this was his leading inducement in determining to secure her hand. Those who have true ideas in regard to marriage, can readily determine how far such an end, as the leading one, could produce happiness between two partners.
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