The Old Man's Bride CHAPTER 12.
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The sun of fortune was rising on Henry Wellford. He had now been six months in the business of Lane & Latta, and so trusty and capable was he, that his new employers had already raised him to a more responsible position. In doing this, an ulterior purpose was in their minds. They wished to test his higher abilities. They had business views beyond their present operations, which, if carried out, would require one of the partners to reside abroad. Before this change was made, they had decided to bring in a third partner, a young and active man, to take the place of Mr. Latta, who designed being absent. Of all their clerks, no one possessed just the qualities they desired, except Wellford; and their test of his higher abilities proved altogether satisfactory. Accordingly, the offer of a partnership in the business, with a fair percentage on the profits, was made and accepted. The young man was taken altogether by surprise at this new stroke of good fortune. He understood the business and resources of the business well enough to know, that as an integral part thereof, his own permanent prosperity was secured. Even from the beginning, should no unforeseen drawback occur, his dividend could not fall short of two or three thousand dollars.
How quickly turned his thoughts to Helen Lee, when, through this new vista, reaching into the future, light dawned upon him! Good fortune seemed a double blessing when he thought of her as sharing therein.
Never, since he was so insultingly repulsed by Mrs. Lee, had Wellford called at the residence of his heart's idol; and never since then, had he been so fortunate as to meet her on the street, though hour after hour, many and many a time, he walked the pavement in neighborhoods where he hoped she might be; yet searched for her thus in vain. Of what was passing in regard to her — not a whisper had reached him. Nor had the faintest imagination of the truth crossed his mind.
"More good fortune, mother," said the young man, in a mirthful voice, on returning home after receiving the proposition from Lane & Latta, to which we have referred.
Mrs. Wellford lifted her pleasant, cheerful face, and looked earnestly into the animated countenance of her son, but without speaking.
"More good fortune, mother," he repeated, "And what do you think it is?"
"I'm sure I cannot tell, my son," was the quiet response.
"No, I'm sure you cannot," said Henry. "Would you believe it? They've offered me a partnership."
"Who?" quickly asked Mrs. Wellford.
"Lane & Latta," replied Henry, struggling to appear composed, yet betraying his emotion.
"You are not in earnest, surely, my son!" replied Mrs. Wellford, in a voice that was now unsteady.
"Entirely in earnest, mother. Mr. Latta is going to London to reside, as a representative of the business abroad. They do not wish to fill his place here, which is a most important one, with an irresponsible clerk, and so have determined to take in a partner."
"And they have chosen you?" said Mrs. Wellford, eagerly.
"They have, mother.
"It seems incredible, my son." Mrs. Wellford's voice trembled. "O, do not let this good fortune uplift your mind too greatly."
"Do not fear for that," said Henry, speaking now in a more subdued tone. "I have enough to keep my thoughts sober."
Both were silent for some moments.
"Mother," said the young man; his voice was low, hesitating and unsteady, "Mother, there is one thing of which I have never spoken to you."
"What is that, my son?"
"Have you seen Helen Lee?"
"Oh yes."
"For a long time she has been very dear to me, mother."
Mrs. Wellford did not look surprised, but waited, in silence, for her son to proceed.
"Very dear, mother," he repeated. "But for the curse of poverty," (he spoke with a sudden bitterness) "I would have long ago brought her to our home, and you would have loved her as your own child. She is poor, mother, yet noble and self-devoted in her poverty. Bravely is she battling with the world, and wresting from it, in daily toil, the means of support for parents, who have, in her, their sole dependence. Oh, how often I have sighed for the means to lift her above her unhappy condition! And now they are about coming into my hands. So faithful and devoted a child, cannot but make a true and loving wife."
"You have been to me a good son," replied Mrs. Wellford, as Henry ceased speaking, "and I know you will make a good husband. If Helen is worthy of you, and I doubt not that she is — make her your wife. Only be sure, Henry, that you have the ability to meet the added expense. If Mr. and Mrs. Lee have no means of support but the earnings of their daughter, you cannot remove the support of their life, without taking the burden on yourself."
"How thankful I am," said the young man, "that I now have the ability to do this. No, no; I will not remove the support of their life, without myself taking up the burden."
In the ardor of his new hopes and brighter prospects, Wellford could not bear, it seemed, the intervention of a single hour between this and the time of another meeting with Helen.
"I will see her this very night," said he, as his thoughts grew more active in that direction. "Poor, dear girl! what may she not have borne and suffered, since our last meeting! But it is all over now." And yet even as he spoke thus within himself, a shadow from the wing of doubt fell upon his spirit. Utterly unaccountable had ever been, and still remained, her sudden turning from him. That it was not from estranged affection, he knew, even though her mother had rudely striven to make him believe otherwise. And yet, might there not exist causes which would separate them forever? As doubt formed this question in his mind, a cold thrill ran along his nerves. Less confident now than when, under the impulse awakened by his unexpected good fortune, his thoughts turned fondly and hopefully towards Helen, Wellford prepared himself to make her a visit.
Daylight had faded, and night was closing in darkly when he left his now comfortable home, and took his way to the humble abode of Helen. Love gave fleetness to his steps, and he hurried along the pavement like one, on whose errand life and death were depending. Just as he turned into the little street where Mr. Lee resided, two carriages started from the immediate vicinity of his dwelling, and came sweeping past him rapidly. Into one of these carriages, a gas lamp threw its bright glare. Was it an illusion? or did his eyes rest upon the pale, passionless face of Helen Lee, as she crouched beside an old man! Instantly his steps were arrested, and he stood, for a time, like a statue.
Then, as the carriage whirled out of sight, he sprung forward, and was soon at the door of the dwelling he sought. His loud knock was answered by a hollow reverberation from within. He knocked again and again, but only echo replied to his summons. Gazing up at the house, he found all the shutters closed. What could be the meaning of this? Had they moved away, or were they only absent temporarily? Again he knocked, and more loudly; it was with the same result. All the while that he stood thus, vainly seeking to gain admission, the vision that had so suddenly fallen upon his eyes, remained before him with annoying distinctness.
Disappointed and troubled, he turned at length, away, and walked slowly from the seemingly deserted house. He paused, however, before passing the next street, looked back with an earnest gaze, and finally retraced his steps. His second attempt to arouse the inhabitants of Mr. Lee's dwelling, if any were therein, proved as fruitless as the first.
"I will make inquiry concerning them," said he, as a suggestion crossed his mind. "Their neighbors can tell me whether they have moved, and if so, where they are now to be found."
And so he applied at the adjoining house.
"Has Mr. Lee moved?" he asked of a servant, who answered the bell he rung with a pretty decided hand.
"I believe not," was the reply. "I have rung several times, but no one seems to hear."
"Maybe they're out," suggested the servant.
"You're sure they've not moved?" said Wellford.
"Haven't seen any moving going on there, though I wouldn't wonder."
"Why wouldn't you wonder?" asked the young man, in a voice that betrayed more interest than he wished to show.
"Oh, because." And there was a knowing, vulgar leer on the servant's face.
"Because what?" So sharp and imperative was the voice of Wellford, that the girl looked frightened, and stepped back a pace or two.
"Why wouldn't you wonder if they had moved?" he repeated, bending towards the girl, and now speaking in a milder and more persuasive voice. "Nothing wrong there, I hope?"
"O, no sir; nothing that I know of."
"But what reason have you to think they have moved?"
"It was only my fun, sir; nothing else," replied the girl, who now began to fear that she might have said something that would bring her into trouble. Seeing that the young man was about pressing the matter on her still further, she shut the door, and left him standing outside.
More troubled and perplexed than ever, Wellford moved away, and again left the immediate neighborhood of Mr. Lee's dwelling. Dissatisfied, he once more returned, unwilling to go until the mystery, which, in his mind, now closed around Helen and her family, was cleared up.
"There was something in that girl's mind;" thus he communed with himself; "what could it be? She had light thoughts of the family; and such thoughts are never entirely baseless. Can there be any true foundation in the appearances upon which they rest? Where has Helen been — what has she been doing for over six months — the long, long period that has elapsed since I last gazed upon her face? Can anything be wrong? I tremble at the thought. In some fearful extremity, can she have yielded to temptation? No, no! I fling the unworthy thought aside, scorning myself for having given it utterance. But where is she? Could that have been her I saw in the carriage?"
In spite of his manliness, a shudder crept along his excited nerves.
"I must solve this mystery!" said he, and he rang the bell of another house in the immediate proximity to that of Mr. Lee.
"Has the family next door to you moved away?" he asked.
"Which family?" was returned.
"That of Mr. Lee."
"I believe not, sir."
"There is no one in the house. I have rung the bell a number of times."
"I saw Mrs. Lee from our back windows, several times during the afternoon."
"You did?"
"Oh, yes."
"What is wanted?" now called out a voice, at some distance along the passage within.
"A gentleman is inquiring about Mr. Lee," replied the servant.
"What about them?"
"He wishes to know if they have moved away?"
"They haven't moved their things out yet," said a lady, now advancing to the door.
"Then they are going to leave here," remarked Wellford.
"Oh, dear, yes. Their daughter was married tonight, and they have gone with her to her new home."
"Married!" exclaimed the young man.
"Oh, yes, indeed! And such a marriage! January and May! Spring in the lap of Winter! It's the strangest thing I ever heard of."
"To whom is she married?" asked Wellford, in a hoarse voice. It was only by a strong effort that he could control his feelings sufficiently to give utterance to the question.
"To a man old enough to be her grandfather. Who he is, I don't know. But they say he's as rich as a Jew. But, if she isn't sorry for it before she dies, then I don't know anything of woman's nature."
Nothing more, did the young man pause to hear. The blasting fact, so rudely announced, was enough for him. What need he care for details and particulars? It was a late hour when he reached his home, the time verging on to midnight. Mrs. Wellford still sat up, awaiting his return. She knew the purpose of his visit to the house of Mr. Lee, and she did not care about retiring until advised of the issue of his suit. That it would be favorable, she had no reason to doubt. Well might she be startled at his appearance when he, at length, came in so quietly that her watchful ear had scarcely noticed his entrance, and stood before her, revealed suddenly, like an apparition.
"Oh, Henry!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "What has happened? Why do you look so?"
The young man's colorless lips quivered as he tried, but in vain, to speak. For a few moments, the mother and son gazed into each other's faces. Then the latter attempted to pass on to his own room; but Mrs. Wellford caught his hand and detained him, saying, in a voice full of tender interest —
"Henry, my son, what ails you? Is anything wrong with Helen?"
"Wrong — wrong! Oh, mother!"
This was his first utterance, and the words were rather sobbed out than spoken.
A long silence ensued, in which Henry was striving for the mastery over his feelings; and his mother, conscious of the struggle, sat awaiting the result. At last the sufferer lifted his face — how changed in a few short hours! — and said, speaking now with icy calmness —
"As I came near the house of Mr. Lee, tonight, two carriages drove away. In one of them was a young girl, in whose very pale face, I thought I recognized the features of Helen. She sat beside an old man, and seemed as if she were shrinking away from, rather than toward him. This was seen only at a single glance, as a strong light shone for an instant into the passing vehicle. The house of Mr. Lee, I found deserted. I rang and rang again, but no one answered the bell. Then I made inquiry of a neighbor, as to whether the family had moved away, and learned that Helen had just been married!"
"Married, Henry!"
"Yes, mother, married, and to an old man!" He spoke with bitterness.
"Who is he?"
Henry shook his head, sighing. "I know not."
"Married — married! Had you no intimation of this?"
"None in the world. Oh! how could I have dreamed of such a thing? It has fallen on me like a thunder-bolt from the sky, searing my very heart. Good night! good night, dear mother!" he added quickly, and with returning emotion; and, as he spoke, he left the room hurriedly, and went up to his own chamber.
Hours went by, and Mrs. Wellford, too much disturbed for sleep, could hear, ever and always, the footsteps of her unhappy son, as he walked restlessly the floor above her.
In the morning, he came down early, as usual. How that night of suffering had marred his fresh, young countenance, and dimmed the light of his pleasant eyes! He looked as if years had left upon him, their marks of suffering and disappointment. His mother's eyes grew dim as she read the change, and understood too well how deep must have been the anguish that produced it. But few words were said as they sat at the scarcely tasted morning meal, and in these was not even a remote allusion to the incidents of the evening before. Each spoke to the other in tones of deeper affection; each felt for the other a stronger love. Their hearts were closer knit. Henceforth, in the bosom of Henry Wellford, the altar-fires were to be kept alive only by the oil of filial love. Beyond this, the support of his life had failed; and, like a long-absent wanderer, storm-tossed and tempest-marred, he sought rest and refuge where it was surely to be found.
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