Lovers and Husbands CHAPTER 1.
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Two maidens sat in earnest conversation one quiet afternoon in October, near the window of a tasteful cottage which looked out upon a gently declining lawn, encircled by elms that still retained their thick foliage. Beyond this lawn, was a dense forest, gayly attired in its many-colored autumn robes. The rays of the setting sun fell broad and unobstructed upon the bosom of this forest, lending to each gaudy leaf, or to the half-revealed silvery branches and trunks of the trees — a glittering luster which dazzled the eye.
"See, Flora!" said one of the maidens, suddenly interrupting their conversation, and glancing out of the window as she spoke: "is there anything in nature more beautiful than an autumn sunset?"
"Nothing!" returned her companion, half abstractedly, as her eyes followed the direction of her companion's. Then speaking with a sudden animation, inspired by the scene, she added,
"Beautiful, very beautiful! See, Emily, how the sun's declining rays fall in broad masses of golden light over that more somber and distant portion of the forest, softening it down, and blending it in exquisite harmony, like a skillfully-laid background, with the brighter picture that stands out nearer and in more gorgeous coloring."
"A living and real picture — not cold, inanimate canvass."
"Yes, living and real. That strong-armed, deep-bosomed oak, upon whose outermost branches lingers the sun's parting rays, is a different thing from the oak of the painter, no matter how perfect his work may be; and in looking at it, we have a different feeling. We esteem the work of art — but we love the work of nature. Art awakens admiration, if beautiful; but nature stirs something within us that is far deeper than a cold approval."
Flora Elton, who thus spoke, was the daughter of a widow who owned the lovely cottage in which she lived, the same that stood near the fine old woods just alluded to. She was not a maiden of showy exterior, nor were her manners and address such as to attract the attention of a stranger, unless he were more than a superficial observer; and yet she had a mind that was richly stored, and affections that were warm, chastened, and refined.
Her companion, Emily Cooper, was her opposite in temperament and manner. While Flora half shrunk from observation, and, therefore, attracted little notice — Emily's bright, animated, really beautiful face, combined with her great sprightliness and brilliant powers of conversation, made her a general favorite in company, and, in consequence, the recipient of the most general attentions. The one was quiet and thoughtful at all times — the other mirthful and imposing, and pleased with the admiration she won. Opposites in character — they were yet bosom friends, and had been for years.
The pleasant cottage in which Flora dwelt with her mother was in New Jersey, about five miles from the city of New York. Mrs. Elton, during the lifetime of her husband, resided in the city, where she still had many friends. Among these was Mrs. Cooper, whose daughter Emily spent a portion of every summer at Rose Hill, Mrs. Elton's unimposing yet tasteful cottage. In turn, Flora passed a part of her time in the city during the winter. Thus were the two maidens brought much together, and the consequence was, that their attachment grew from a girlish preference — into a deep, sisterly regard.
The conversation, which had been interrupted by Emily's remark upon the beauty of the old woods, bathed in the golden rays of an autumn sunset, was resumed after a brief interruption.
"And so, you do not admire Mr. Whitney?" Emily said, assuming a gayer tone.
"I have seen but little of him," Flora replied. "That little, however, I am free to confess, has not biased me in his favor."
"I am sure he is a very handsome man," Emily said.
"A handsome man and a good man — are two things."
"No doubt of that, Flora. But do you know that Mr. Whitney is not a good man?"
"Oh no, of course I do not. I only made the remark to show that I thought we ought to look a little deeper than the surface."
"Of course. Still, external beauty and external accomplishments are to be regarded. For my part, I could not love a dull-looking, awkward, homely man. Could you?"
Flora's cheek slightly flushed as she replied,
"Yes — if his mind were clear, orderly, and beautiful."
"It is more than I could, then. I would put up, cheerfully, with some mental defects, if the man of my choice were handsome in person, well educated, refined in his fellowship with society, and fairly to do in the world. I want a husband of whom I shall be proud. To be tied to a mere dull, lifeless drone — would kill me. I could not go into society with him, and avoid being mortified to death; and if I went without him, I would be subjected to remarks of an unpleasant kind. But see! if there isn't that dreary Doctor Arlington again! I wonder what brings him here! I would be half inclined to ask him if he came to see Nancy, the cook. But I would die if I didn't see a man's face now and then. So I suppose I shall have to tolerate the doctor as a necessary evil."
Doctor Arlington, the unconscious subject of these disparaging remarks, had by this time reached the door, and Emily felt it prudent to check her rather free tongue. Certainly no one who looked into his face for the first time would pronounce him a very handsome man, and it is much to be doubted whether anyone would have called him an agreeable companion after sitting an hour with him during the first interview. Still, Doctor Arlington had his good points, and these were intrinsic, like the good points in a piece of virgin ore. He could not dance, nor play on the flute, nor talk French; nor was he, indeed, at all externally accomplished. He was aloof, too, and awkward, and reserved in company. But, although but twenty-five, he was deeply skilled in his profession, and, as a physician, had the fullest confidence of the community in which he resided; and, besides, he was a man of firm, well-arranged principles, and possessed a warm heart.
In a moment or two after Emily uttered her light remarks, Doctor Arlington stood in the door of the room where the young ladies were seated. He felt awkward and embarrassed, as he always did when his visits were unprofessional, and to young ladies. He looked just as awkward and embarrassed as he felt. Emily, as she arose and curtsied formally, could scarcely help smiling in the young man's face, while Flora experienced a lack of self-possession which she had never before known on meeting him. The color rose to her face, and it was some moments before she was sufficiently composed to receive him with her usual kindness and attention.
Conversation dragged on very heavily during the hour that Doctor Arlington spent with the young ladies — much more heavily than it had ever done with him and Flora, even while the mother of the latter made one of the company. As the twilight began to thicken around, the visitor arose to depart. He was urged by Mrs. Elton, who had joined them, to remain to tea, and spend the evening; but he excused himself on the ground of professional engagements, and withdrew, not, however, without nearly falling backward, as he bowed out, awkwardly, from the presence of the young ladies.
"I wish in my heart, that he had fallen!" Emily said, laughing gayly, as soon as he was out of hearing range.
"Why so, Emily?" asked Mrs. Elton, half smiling.
"Oh, because he is so ugly and awkward. I have no patience with an awkward booby of a man."
"While for a handsome fellow, even if a villain — you would entertain the most exalted regard?"
"As to that, Mrs. Elton," Emily returned, laughing, "I don't believe a real handsome man can be a bad man."
"Time will teach you a different lesson from that, child. The most heartless man I ever knew had the most attractive appearance I remember to have seen."
"Was he accomplished?"
"Yes, in everything that could make him agreeable."
"Then I would say that he was the seventh wonder of the world."
"No — not a seventh wonder, nor any wonder at all. Such showy, handsome, heartless, accomplished men — are to be found in almost every fashionable circle — winning young hearts, but to break them."
"A story with which to frighten naughty children!" laughingly replied Emily Cooper. "But I'll be a good girl, Mrs. Elton — never fear."
"Be wise as well as good, my child," was the rather serious remark of Mrs. Elton, as she turned away and left the room, half sighing for the mirthful thoughtlessness of one whose many good qualities had won from her more than an evanescent regard.
"For whom was that visit intended, Flora?" Emily asked, turning with a mischievous face to her young friend as soon as Mrs. Elton had withdrawn. "For you — or for me?"
"For both of us, in all probability."
"Oh no, no! Doctor Arlington never could pick up the courage to visit two young ladies a once. A call upon one is enough for his delicate nerves."
"He knew there was more than one young lady at Rose Hill."
"No one would have thought so this evening!"
"Why, Emily, what do you mean?"
"I mean as I have said, that no one would have thought he knew there was more than a single young lady present this evening. I don't believe he looked at me when he came in, and I am sure he did not speak to me while he remained. He was either afraid to look at me, or unconscious of my presence: the latter, more probably. Take my word for it, Flora, the doctor is deeply smitten with you!"
Flora colored a good deal at this mirthful sally and seemed confused for a few moments. But she rallied herself, and replied, half jestingly,
"A young lady might attract a less harmless insect. The doctor is a very excellent man."
"Oh yes, one of the excellent of the earth, no doubt. But I don't relish him."
"We should not allow ourselves to entertain unfounded prejudices against anyone, Emily. Doctor Arlington cannot help being homely in person, nor can he help being timid, and sometimes a little awkward. But let us look at the good in him, and estimate him accordingly. If we do that, we shall find the simple country doctor to be a man worthy of a high regard."
"Well, let old women and clodpoles hold him in as high regard as his good qualities deserve. I shall not find fault with them, nor with him either — if he keeps out of my way! But, if he expects me to treat him as a gentleman — he must learn the manners of a gentleman."
Emily spoke with a little warmth. Flora made no reply to this last remark — but dexterously changed the subject of conversation.
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