The Old Man's Bride CHAPTER 5.
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"All lost! all lost!" sobbed the wretched girl, as she hastily retired from the dwelling of Mrs. Barker, and took her way, she knew not, in the bewildered state of her mind, where. Utterly hopeless as she now was, fluttering like a charmed bird almost in the very jaws of the serpent — she yet held back from the final, dreadful alternative which loomed up the more awfully the nearer it approached.
With her eyes cast upon the ground, Helen moved along with hurried steps, the agitation of her mind giving fleetness to her motions, and continued to walk for nearly an hour; when, in some measure, recovering her external consciousness, she looked around in surprise to find that she was in a strange part of the city, and remote from her home. Retracing, now, her steps, and, at the same time, forcing her thoughts to a consideration of what was next to be done in the limited space of time left to her, she took her way towards the dwelling of Mr. Bullfinch, attracted thitherward by an influence which she did not seek to resist, and yet she was not fully determined to go there, without another effort to escape the doom which now seemed almost inevitable. She had reached the neighborhood in which Mr. Bullfinch resided, and was only a short distance from his house, when, lifting her eyes, she saw, a few paces in advance of her, one, whom of all others, she least wished to encounter — her lover, Henry Wellford. And yet, how the sight of him caused her heart to bound, and the blood to rush in hot currents through all her veins! How earnestly did her woman's nature take up instantly the plea for him — and chide the cold, mercenary, calculating spirit to whose influence she was giving herself up body and soul.
Wellford was not approaching Helen, and did not, therefore, see her at the moment she recognized him. How little she knew, of what was in his thought! How little she dreamed that he was then in search of her; and that he was both able and ready to save her from a fate more dreaded than death.
Checking her pace, Helen lingered along, in order that Wellford might get sufficiently in advance, to remove the danger of observation. A crowd of passengers hiding him, for the space of a minute from her sight, she found herself suddenly within a few feet of him. He had paused on a corner, and was gazing, first along one street and then another, his eyes alternately ranging both pavements. At the moment he was partly turned from her; starting quickly forward, she almost brushed him with her garments, passing and hurrying on. For the time, her heart ceased to beat, and her breath was suspended.
"Helen! Helen!"
In an instant after, his voice reached her. Why, why did she not obey the quick impulse of her heart, and pause as that voice, to her ears so full of music, fell upon her ears? Why did she not turn for one more look at the face so beautiful to her eyes? Had she done so, she would have been saved. Alas! that it was otherwise. For an instant only, were her steps arrested; then, like a frightened deer, she fled forward, and quickly disappeared from the sight of Wellford, who did not attempt to follow, but, with a heavy heart, took his way to his place of business. Fortune had begun to smile upon him; but, how cold the smile now, that was so warm and bright when its beams first shone!
Panting from excitement and hurry, Helen next found herself at the door of Mr. Bullfinch, and, with a kind of blind desperation, ascended the marble steps, and placed her hand upon the bell to ring for admission. But, before the summons was given, the native delicacy of her pure heart aroused itself against the unmaidenly act, and, still irresolute, she was about turning away, when the door opened, and Adam Bullfinch met her face to face.
"My dear girl!" he exclaimed, seizing her hand, and drawing her with a force she had neither the strength of mind or body to resist, into the hall, closed the door, and led her, now all passive, to her destiny, into the elegant parlors where she was so soon to preside as mistress!
"My dear Miss Lee!" He still held tightly the hand of the poor young girl. "I have been looking for you this hour. My heart told me you would be here" — he laid a hand gracefully on his bosom, "and more than this, told me that my love for you was no rejected passion."
The words were like heavy strokes on the heart of Helen. She caught her breath, panted, grew faint, and would have sunk to the floor, had not the arm of Mr. Bullfinch, who saw, from her extreme paleness, that she was suddenly ill, been drawn around her. Her head drooped upon his shoulder. Not voluntary, oh no! She had become half unconscious. Slightly alarmed, the old man bore her to a sofa, and commenced bathing her face with cold water. He called for no attendance. In fact, his niece was not at home. In expectation of the coming of Helen, he had induced her, on some pretense, to go out on a visit for the morning.
Suspended consciousness was but temporary. Helen soon recovered, and arose from the reclining position in which she had been placed. Mr. Bullfinch was holding her hand; but now she forcibly withdrew it from his grasp, a movement that caused a shadow to flit over his animated face.
"You have come to a decision, Helen — or you would not be here," said Mr. Bullfinch, endeavoring to recover the hand of his victim, but not succeeding in the effort. "Do not keep me long in suspense; and before you speak, remember how much is at stake."
This was unwisely said. Helen did remember how much was at stake, and it caused her to startle in sudden terror, at thought of the horrible pit opening at her feet, to rise quickly from the sofa, and spring towards the door, saying, as she did so, in an agonized voice, "O spare me! In mercy, spare me! I am too weak for this. Kill me — but ask me not to encounter so fearful an ordeal."
Pausing, before she had reached the door, the wretched creature pressed, convulsively, her open hands over her face. A gush of tears gave vent to the stifling oppression of her bosom, and sinking into a chair, she sobbed for a time violently.
There came not to the selfish heart of Adam Bullfinch, as he looked upon the quivering form of the poor girl, now within his toils — the smallest motion of relenting. In fear of losing the object of his sensual regard, his passion grew into an intenser flame; and, with the skill of the mere sensual man, he composed and controlled his exterior with most consummate art.
Until Helen had grown calm, Mr. Bullfinch did not speak again; but he was by her side, caressing a hand she had relinquished; not without resistance. With the utmost tenderness, he now spoke to her; but he did not urge his suit as at first.
"It is a hard life that you are leading, Helen," he said, with such well assumed sympathy, that her heart was deceived, and it leaned, hearkening, and with a softened response, to the tone.
"A life," he continued, "which is obscuring and destroying one fitted to adorn the highest station."
This was not adroitly said. It appealed to her pride — and that was nearly extinct. Perceiving the lack of response, Mr. Bullfinch, after a moment's silence, resumed —
"You have seemed in trouble for some time, Helen. Will you not confide in me as a true friend? There is, believe me, none living who would do more to secure your happiness than I. Come! Make me your confidant. Tell me freely of your anxieties, your cares, and your fears — and if there is power in a human arm, they shall be relieved. Love ever seeks to bless its object."
"I am in trouble," said Helen, with the calmness that always follows the subsiding of strong emotion.
"Speak, then. Let it have full utterance. There is no human ear that will listen so earnestly as mine."
Helen, with partly averted face, remained silent.
"Your father is in poor health," said Mr. Bullfinch slowly. "His physician has forbidden all exertion, bodily, as well as mental. On your feeble arm rests the heavy burden of sustaining the family. But your arm is too weak. Will you not let me hold it up? I have manly strength. Let me put it forth in your behalf. Believe me, that the privilege of doing so, will be the dearest pleasure of my life."
"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Helen, turning suddenly towards him, "you can aid me if you will."
A smile of encouragement lit up the old man s countenance.
"Speak!" said he. "Speak freely, my dear Miss Lee. To your wish I can only give a quick response."
"My father needs, "
"Go on," said Mr. Bullfinch, seeing that Helen paused with hesitation.
"Our circumstances are very limited, as you must know, Mr. Bullfinch." Helen was now entirely self-possessed, and as she spoke, she looked calmly into the old man's face. "My earnings are our sole income. But these have, hitherto, proved insufficient for our needs, as small as we have endeavored to make them. Several debts have accumulated, and the people to whom they are owed, have become impatient. Yesterday, a man to whom sixty-four dollars is owed, demanded its payment. He was angry and insolent. Distressed beyond measure at my parents' distress, I desperately promised the payment of the money this morning. If you can lend me that sum, or advance it on Fanny's lessons, the act will be one for which my heart will bless you."
"Is it so bad with you, my poor child?" said Mr. Bullfinch with great tenderness. "Why did you not tell me of this before? Have I not ever sought your friendship and confidence? Have I not always manifested the warmest interest in your welfare?"
He was now holding her hand tightly, and looking fondly into her face.
"You have but to say the word," he continued, "and all I have is yours. One little word, spoken now, will lift you, and those you love with such deep self-devotion, above the shadow of earthly evil. I hold your promise to an answer to my suit this morning. Are you ready for the response? Think, dear Helen, how much you have to gain for you and yours: and think of the exquisite happiness you will confer upon one, who, until he looked upon your sweet young face, never saw the angel of his being. Say that you will be mine, Helen, and the words will unlock for you the iron doors of wealth. A day need not pass, before the joy of seeing your parents forever raised above the pressure of need and care, may be yours. Can you look at them, and hesitate?"
Helen was silent for a few moments. But, her choice was made. That appeal in favor of her parents, had decided the question. But, there was still a matter of justice that she wished to settle — justice to her infatuated suitor. If he took her, he must take her for what she was. She could yield him a hand — but she had no love to give. So far as she was concerned, the struggle was now over. The throbbings of her heart had ceased. Upon its surface, had passed an icy calm; and if there was agitation beneath, it was far too deep for visible manifestation.
"Mr. Bullfinch," said she, her fine person seeming to grow taller under his admiring gaze, while a change passed over her pale countenance which excited a moment's surprise. How beautiful it was, in its pale, cold, elevated dignity! "Mr. Bullfinch, you have asked of me this hand, in marriage. It is yours."
She extended the hand, which he seized eagerly, and covered with kisses. Not a flush passed over her face. There was no softness in her cold, bright eyes. An observer would have noticed on her finely arched lips, a slight curving motion, and he would not have mistaken its meaning.
"But" — she added, as the ardent lover lifted his eyes again to her countenance, "that is all which is in my power to give you. The heart, Mr. Bullfinch, is not so easy of disposal."
"I will trust for that," said he fondly. "Love begets love. I have no fears. Give me the hand — and I will not despair of the heart. That will come in its own good time. Oh! you have made me the happiest man alive, today!"
And with ardor he kissed her brow, cheek, and lips. Helen did not shrink from the salutation; but her reception of it was statue-like. Her eyes now rested upon a mantle clock, and she saw that it was near the hour when the money she had promised must be paid.
"Let me repeat, Mr. Bullfinch," and Helen spoke with solemnity, "that my heart cannot go with my hand — and you must never hope to possess it. I will be to you dutiful and faithful. All in my power, will be done for your happiness. But, love goes not at the mere bidding. I do not love you — I can never love you. The difference between us is too great. And now, sir, if, after this declaration, you wish to withdraw the offer you have made, still hold yourself at full liberty to do so."
"Not for a moment will I think of it," replied Mr. Bullfinch, with ardor, "no, not for a moment! Angel!" And again seizing her hand, he pressed it to his lips. "Be it the highest aim of my life to secure your happiness."
From Helen there was not the slightest response. Nothing could have been colder or more passive, than her reception of this little piece of fond enthusiasm on the part of her lover.
"Ah, my Helen," he resumed, "you do not yet know me fully. You cannot realize how entirely my life will be devoted to your happiness, and to that of your parents."
"For the sake of my parents," said Helen, in a voice from which all feeling was removed, "I would do and sacrifice everything I dare sacrifice. And now, that you refer to them, let us understand each other in regard to the future. My home — must be their home."
"I desire nothing else," was quickly answered.
"They must be at once raised above care and need; in fact, above all anxiety concerning the future."
"It shall be as you wish, Helen. You cannot be happy without seeing them happy; and your happiness I desire above all things. Such filial devotion I honor. And, moreover, it is a pledge to me of a pleasant future. So devoted, self-sacrificing a daughter, cannot but make a good and loving wife. Heaven bless you, sweet one!"
"And now, Mr. Bullfinch," said Helen, rising — he kept tightly hold of her hand, "I can remain no longer. The time has already come when my promise to the collector must be fulfilled. I wish to keep my word with him, as well as save my parents from the pain his insolence will occasion."
Mr. Bullfinch released her hand, and going to a secretary which stood in one of the parlors, unlooked it, and, taking a purse, filled it with pieces of gold.
"Here, sweet one," said he, placing the money in her hands, and kissing her white cheek as he did so, "go home quickly and set the hearts of your parents at rest.
"They may thank Heaven for so good a child — as I do for the destiny of so good a wife."
Helen received the purse, and, without looking at it, thrust it in her pocket.
"You will call as usual, tomorrow," said Mr. Bullfinch. "We will then talk about the future."
"Call here, Mr. Bullfinch!" returned Helen, in a tone of surprise.
"Yes — no — why — I didn't think" — stammered the old man, "oh no; of course not. It wouldn't be just delicate for you to visit here now. But when shall I see you again?"
"That will be according to your own good pleasure," replied Helen, coldly.
"I will visit you this evening."
Helen inclined her head in acquiescence, and then, with a "Good day, sir," turned and passed hurriedly from the room. At the door, Mr. Bullfinch, who had followed with light footsteps, was by her side. He had lifted his hat from the rack, in passing, and was now ready to accompany her in her walk home. Against this, she offered a feeble remonstrance; but gallantry and inclination were not to be overcome.
Of the many, tender things said by Mr. Bullfinch, and unheard by Helen — we will make no record. They parted at her father's door, Helen not even looking into his face, nor, in fact, giving to his stealthy pressure of her hand, or low spoken, "I will see you tonight," the smallest response.
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