POVERINA 2
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Ten years had passed since the sisters parted. The day had arrived upon which they had agreed to meet once more. In the old homestead all was unchanged, but that it looked grayer and more neglected. In the well-remembered sitting-room, all wore a different aspect. Statues filled the niches, flowers breathed odors commingled — books lay upon chairs, tables, and window-seats — books everywhere. At a desk filled with writing materials sat Parnassa, a laurel wreath was upon her brow; but that brow was ashen, and the eyes beneath it dim and lustreless.
The door opened, and a strange figure entered; a woman bowed and shrunken. Her still luxuriant hair was threaded with silver, and shone through the artificial ringlets. The rouge upon her cheek and lip, the carefully-pencilled eyebrow and richly-fashioned robe, could not conceal the ravages of dissipation, or the meager form, grown old before its time.
"Reichen!" cried Parnassa.
"Parnassa!" replied the mummy; and the sisters exchanged embraces in silence — too wonder-stricken for words.
At this moment, a little gray hood peeped in at the door. The face therein was fresh and youthful, the form round and the step elastic. Were not the cheeks much paler than of yore, the sisters would have thought that Poverina had not changed in the least since their separation.
"Sisters," she cried, hastening to greet them, "God has permitted us all to live to meet once more, blessed be His name!"
When they were composed, they seated themselves, and prepared to recount each their progress toward happiness during their ten years' search.
Parnassa, being the one who remained at home, and believing her life less eventful than her sister's, commenced —
"When my tears had ceased to flow at your departure, I came into the house, and taking a quantity of gold, sent it, with a list of books, to the city. By the next day, a large car of these valuables arrived. I had shelves placed around my room, and filled them. I then procured one thousand reams of paper, four gallons of ink, and a huge box of pens.
Thus supplied, I commenced writing and reading, leaving to Hanna the domestic avocations. I spared myself neither time nor pains. I wrought early and late. I lost sleep, took no exercise, and scarcely allowed myself time to partake of my meals.
"When my first work was finished, with many hopes and misgivings, I published it. It pleased the public, that public whose name is legion, and whose voice is life or death. That public, so feared by a debutante authoress, was pleased to shower upon me golden opinions. They cried for my name. It was given. I was inundated with invitations and congratulations. I wrote again and again. I drank a full measure of fame — but in the empty goblet found no solace. I had worked, toiled, eight years for this laurel wreath — but when it became mine, and action was no longer necessary to secure it, life was all a blank page. Money filled the old vault in the cellar, but all was lonely. There was no one to love me — no one for me to love. Unsatisfied I lived — and longed to die, hoping, in another life, to find that rest I longed for. My health is impaired from constant sedentary habits and late vigils. I must now care as much for my ailing body, as I have heretofore neglected it.
"I hope, dear Reichen, that your history will not be so sad in its termination. With me the belief lies that there is no happiness on this earth. The labor is here, the happiness in Heaven."
Reichen shook sadly her withered head.
"I drove far away from you, my sisters, to a distant city. I stayed at the largest and most imposing hotel in appearance. The splendor of the interior of this house, quite dazzled me. There were many articles that I did not know the use of, nor did I ever learn that they were put to any useful purpose. At the table, I met ladies in elegant attire. There was a preponderance of jewelry about them, and appropriate selections for different forms and complexions. At the table, I was handed 'a bill of fare.' I think I am right in the term. There were many French words thereon, quite puzzling to one unacquainted with the language, but I managed to get through the courses very well until I arrived at the dessert. A gentleman beside me had a dish of a most delightful appearance, and I wished for some also. But, study my bill as I would, there was nothing that read as that appeared. I made, however, a bold stroke; and, pointing to an unpronounceable name, I requested a waiter to bring me some of that. It was a failure. I tried another and another; but, at length, frightened at the untouched dishes surrounding me, I desisted, and left the table.
"Having nothing to do but to amuse myself and assist many others, with whom I became acquainted, in passing the time as rapidly and giddily as possible, we walked out. I dressed as they did, in a most peculiar style. My robe of heavy silk dragged upon the ground. The day was muddy, and, to avoid being thrown down, I followed the example of those I met. I gathered my robe in my hands, displaying not only my elaborately embroidered skirts, but the new-fashioned gaiters then in vogue. I suspected, afterwards, that many of the ladies, accustomed to long robes, held them on high for the especial purpose of displaying their high-heeled Chinese shoes; for they were so dear in price as to enable ladies only to purchase them. My bonnet was a Lilliputian, and stuck on to the back of my head with a wafer. My mantle was embroidered in Paris, and represented, in crimson thread, a family seal — a lion rampant on green fields, thirteen crosslets, and a turbot's head. I carried in my hand a 'lachrymal,' made of cobweb, just patented.
Thus equipped, I walked or rode daily. Our carriages were made of a species of quicksilver, so shining and glasslike that they mirrored the poor wretched beings who, with naked feet and shrunken forms, crawled by. I used to notice the poor much, when I first went there, but I imagine, afterward, they did not frequent the fashionable streets, for I do not remember seeing them. Our coachmen were clothed in livery, with the most magnificent furs wrapped about them. Each one endeavored to surpass the others in equipage, and thus many thousands were placed in the hands of wealthy financiers.
"Sometimes, a poor woman ventured to accost us, begging for aid; but most of the ladies would be so shocked at her lack of manners, or knowledge of the language, that they frowned upon her in contempt. Some advised her to wear better shoes; but, when the half-frozen wretch asked how she could obtain them, cried, "Work, work! Is the woman crazy?"
"The wretched creature turned her eyes to Heaven, and passed on.
"I will give you an idea of our manner of passing time. We all rose late, and threw on a rich morning robe and elaborate cap. The one who appeared in the greatest disorder was pronounced to be in the most charming dishabille. We talked over much gossip and nonsense at our meals, lounged in the parlor, looked at the late fashions, or read any work that was quite the style (for you know one likes to be thought to be literary, without the trouble of being so). I generally skimmed over the story, then I asked the opinion of those who had read it carefully, and adopted their opinion, generally remembering the language in which it was given.
"At eleven we rode — called later — shopped, met at lunch to gossip, raved over goods, and gave as much trouble as we could, consistently with politeness. Our afternoons were engaged in joyous amusements. Our evenings passed at the opera, theater, or any other fashionable places. When any celebrity lectured, we heard him. But we liked only thestars that were fixed planets; those that were rising, or those likely to set, we never troubled ourselves about.
"Parties were our great abominations, yet we never missed one, and dressed ourselves in rivalry as well as our coachmen. We wore long trains in the evenings, and might have been taken for peacocks by a casual observer. Having been called 'angels without wings,' we determined to have them (the wings). Emulating Mercury's cap, we wore our hair puffed out to the last degree, filling all the spaces with green-ribbons.
"Had the flowers bloomed within our heads — rose-leaves of thought, and lily-bells of charity, might have dropped from our lips, equal to the 'pearls and diamonds' of the fairy tale. Here we smiled and chatted, danced, sang, played cards, and drank wine, returning to our homes at a very late hour of the night.
"It is needless to say, my dear sisters, that in this happy life, I enjoyed myself to perfection at first. But, after awhile, quarrels ensued. One friend spoke evil of another; some were less discreet and prudent than I could have wished. I became fatigued — there was nothing new to engage in. I was restless and unhappy. As my health gave way, my beauty faded.
"When our prescribed limit of time drew near, I was not sorry to return to my childhood's home. No one regretted my loss. I had no friend. I am firmly convinced, that as in these joys I found no happiness — that there is no such reality. It is a chimera of the brain. One imagines they have found it often — but time disenchants them. As for me, I detest it. I have lost health in seeking it. There is nothing in the future for me. I can look back upon nothing which gives me comfort. Life is a stubble-field — death a desert. Now you tell us about yourself, Poverina."
"Be not disturbed, my beloved Reichen," cried the tender Poverina, embracing her.
"It is never too late to learn goodness. When I left you, Parnassa, looking with tearful eyes down the road after me, I, too, journeyed to the city. I hired a cosy room in a small plain house. I hid my gold in the hearth, and started forth ostensibly to sell my little produce. Ah, sisters, how many wretched forms I met; not unhappy with lack ofextravagances, but the lack of necessities staring them in the face — driving them, they knew not, cared not where, to drown them. I wished to help all, but I waited to look well.
"The little children cried to my heart the most imploringly — those sent by parents to steal or beg, beaten by them, if unsuccessful, and fed alcoholic drinks if they brought in gains; those who have no childhood, but were born old — old in cunning and guilt. These little fire-brands, I plucked from the burning. I built a house for them, tore them from their unnatural parents. I employed poor but educated girls to teach and oversee them. Daily I added to my number.
"Then I took by the hand the erring and intoxicated. I pointed toward a ray of escape; I watched over them, and when the cavern of despair ceased to cover them, and they stood in the free air, men and women, they blessed God and wept.
"I walked with the poor — I was of them. I toiled, suffered, grieved, and endured with them. I could always relieve. God knows, how I would have felt, had I been unable to do so! I had my own pleasures, too, which they had not. I read — passed stolen hours with intelligent friends — interchanged confidences and hopes. When labor was numbing to my faculties, I sought some congenial amusement. When my gold had vanished, more poured in. I received contributions, and with economy and judgment it sufficed. I tore myself with pain from my beloved ones, to fulfill our compact. I have a monitor here," she continued, placing her hand upon her heart, "who bids me to prepare for a long journey. I, sisters, have found happiness on earth, in doing good, in constant occupation in following in the footsteps of Him, who has said, 'I was hungry — and you fed me; naked — and you clothed me.' I have lived — I leave in the hearts of many, my monument. I die in peace with all, assured of becoming happier in the next world than in this."
Here lived the sisters, all awaiting the angel of death.
Parnassa, cold, haughty, and passive, received in silence death's summons.
Reichen, peevish, fretful, and despairing, gazed at her own image in death's polished scythe, as she was mowed into the outer field.
Poverina, smiling, patient, and hopeful, hailed with joy the rustle of his wings, and rose, with a song of praise upon her lip, into the glorious light of Heaven!
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