The Old Man's Bride CHAPTER 13.
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Henry Wellford was sitting at his desk on the morning after the marriage of Helen Lee, with his thoughts far away from business, when his attention was arrested by a remark from Mr. Lane, who was looking over a morning paper.
"Oh my!" said that gentleman, speaking to a friend, who was sitting near him, also engaged with a paper. "Here is news!"
The friend looked up inquiringly.
"Who do you think is married?" asked Mr. Lane. There was a broad smile on his face.
"Who?"
"You wouldn't guess in a month."
"Then I won't be so foolish as to make the trial. Who is the happy man?"
"Old Bullfinch."
"No!"
"It's a fact, as I live. Here it is, all in black and white. Listen: Married, on Wednesday evening, 21st, Mr. Adam Bullfinch to Miss Helen Lee."
"Why, the old sinner! He'd better be thinking of his grave. Married! And to Miss Helen Lee? And please, who is the damsel? A spinster of fifty — or some blooming maiden of sweet sixteen? The latter! Well, it does beat all!"
"You remember Lee who failed in the West India trade, after crippling himself through an unfortunate sugar speculation?" said Mr. Lane.
"O yes, very well."
"You also remember his daughter Helen?"
"I do. She was a lovely girl. But I'll not believe that she has thrown herself away upon old Adam Bullfinch."
"He is rich; or, at least so esteemed," said Mr. Lane, meaningly.
"What of that? If my impression of the girl is correct, money would never have bought her. She would have died of starvation, before thus proving traitor to her woman's heart."
"For the sake of her parents — she may have done this. They are very poor, and Mr. Lee is in bad health. He has not been able to engage in any business for some time."
The friend shook his head, remarking, "Bad, bad, bad. Nothing will justify a marriage like this. Can she possibly find happiness?"
"She hardly took that into the account," said Mr. Lane. "So far as she is herself concerned, if the girl I supposed her to be, she expects happiness in her marriage relation, about as much as the martyr looks for pleasure at the stake! She is passing through the fire, hoping for something beyond — or, I might rather say, is giving up her very life for the sake of her parents' external comfort. This, at least, is my interpretation of the matter."
"How sad to think of," was remarked, in answer to this. "Ah me! It is a fearful mistake. And such a husband for a young, innocent, pure-minded woman! Why, he is the merest sensualist. A man who has blotted out from his impure mind, every idea involved in a true marriage! It is shocking to think of. Poor girl! If she has thus sacrificed herself for the sake of her parents — she is to be pitied indeed. They should never have allowed it to take place. Better have starved together, than buy luxurious living at such a price."
"As for the luxurious living," said Mr. Lane, "I am not so certain — at least so far as permanency is concerned." He spoke in rather a lower tone of voice. "The fact is, Mr. Bullfinch is far from being as shrewd in business matters as formerly, and I wouldn't be at all astonished if he were to find himself thrown to the wall one of these days. You remember that nice operation of his, in sugars and coffees?"
"Very well. It is said that he lost about ten thousand dollars."
"Do you think the speculation was so bad as that?"
"I am sure of it. Then, he sold Wayland after everyone else had refused to credit him a single dollar, and bore, in consequence, the heaviest loss sustained by a failure which the merest novice in business, saw must inevitably take place. It's my opinion, though I wouldn't like to say it out of doors, that Adam Bullfinch isn't worth as much now as he was twelve months ago, by twenty thousand dollars."
"You surprise me," said the friend.
"And what is more, if he doesn't show himself wiser in his business operations than he has been for some time past, he'll find the end of his rope much sooner than he or anyone else dreams of."
"In that case, the bird who has just entered his cage, will not have even gilded bars against which to beat and bruise herself. Ah! what a mistake that young bride has committed!"
"Yes, look at it as you will, it is all a mistake. What compensation is there in mere wealth, or the external good it procures — for a life-long association against which the heart revolts, even from its profounder depths?"
"And you think her heart will so revolt! That she really has no affection for the old man? That she will not love him with something like filial tenderness? That, should wealth fail him, she will not cling to him more closely, hiding his defects lovingly from the world, and sustaining him, even as a vine the decaying branches which bore it at first from the earth, where it lay with no inherent power to lift itself into the pure air and warm sunshine."
"No!" was the emphatic answer.
"That little word no, comprehends a great deal."
"It does, and fully covers this question. What Mr. Bullfinch is, as a man, we know pretty well. His heart lies not in the center, but beats everywhere, so to speak, in the very external of his life. He comprehends only by the touch. He is, in plainer language, the mere sensualist — taking the term in its broader signification — in the world. What does he understand of the delicate emotions, the pure, almost spiritual perceptions, the exquisite appreciation of qualities, possessed by the heart of a truly virtuous woman, such as I believe his child-wife to be? Nothing — less than nothing."
"Not much, I can readily believe," was answered.
"And it is to be supposed, that the grosser qualities of his mind will be perceived, instinctively, by the finer appreciation of hers — and that such a perception will be accompanied by a suffocating disgust! We cannot reasonably hope for a different result."
"I suppose not," was remarked in reply. A customer entered at the moment, and there the conversation, every word of which had fallen upon the ears of Wellford, ended. He knew that Helen had married an old man; that he learned on the night previous — but he was not prepared to hear that Adam Bullfinch was her husband. Of him, he knew quite enough — knew him to be essentially a gross and impure-minded man.
"Unhappy girl!" he sighed, as a momentary forgetfulness of his own bitter disappointment, left his heart free to pity the wretched victim of a mistaken sense of duty, "into what agulf of wretchedness you have thrown yourself!"
A short time he remained at the desk; then, unable to compose his mind, or to fix his thoughts on business, he went out, and wandered through the streets for an hour, striving, though vainly, to repress the wild agitation into which he had been thrown. Returning to the store, he sought to compose his mind, and give renewed attention to the duties which devolved upon him; but this he found utterly impossible. The disturbance from which he suffered was no mere ripple on the surface of his life — it went to the very depths of his being! The whole current of thought and feeling was in commotion. Strong of will though he was by nature, and habitual in self-control — he failed now, utterly, in every effort to subdue the strife within. A plea of sickness — far from being assumed on his part — sufficed to release him from duties which, in his state of mind, he found it impossible to perform — and he left the store and returned home.
On the following morning, Wellford was absent from his post. On sending to his house, word came back that he was still too much indisposed for business, but hoped to be well enough on the next day to resume his place. But the next day, and the next following, he was still absent. Two weeks elapsed, and then his old position was resumed. All saw that he was a changed man, yet none guessed the cause and nature of the change. It was not strongly marked, yet clearly apparent to everyone who was familiar with his daily manner and habit of mind. He did not converse as freely as before, nor take his usual interest in passing events. He was often absent-minded to a degree that, at first, made his business action partially defective; but this he gradually overcame, and devoted himself to trade with greater concentration of thought than ever. In fact, the new position he had assumed in the house of Lane, Latta & Co. demanded this intense application of all his powers.
It was well for him, perhaps, that such was the case. It prevented the sickly, brooding state into which he would have fallen almost inevitably. He not only felt the responsibility of his new relation in business, but a desire to make the most of it in a worldly point of view, from ends not even fully acknowledged to himself, came gradually into activity. And so he was sustained in the great trial he had been called to pass through; sustained so far, at least, as the world's observation was concerned. No eye penetrated the secret chambers of his heart; none knew of the darkness and coldness which dwelt there; none saw the anguish that overmastered him in his hours of solitude. Intimately blended with all his hopes in life — more intimately than was known even to himself — had been the image of Helen Lee. Though she had turned from him, he felt that there was no estrangement in her heart; and he was patiently awaiting the time that would remove the cloud from the sun of his life, when it was darkened suddenly by a total eclipse.
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