Part 53 (1/2)
”When were you in Madeira?”
”Two years ago. The villa I occupied was situated on the side of a mountain, whose base was covered with vineyards; and from a grove of lemon and oleanders that stood in front of the house I could see the surging Atlantic at my feet, and the crest of the mountain clothed with chestnuts, high above and behind me. In one corner of my vineyard stood a solitary palm, which tradition a.s.serted was planted when Zarco discovered the island; and the groves of orange, citron, and pomegranate trees were always peopled with humming-birds, and flocks of green canaries. There, surrounded by grand and picturesque scenery of which I never wearied, I resolved to live and die; but Elsie's desire to return to America, which held the ashes of her husband and child, overruled my inclination and the dictates of judgment, and reluctantly I left my mountain Eden and came here. Now, when I smell violets and heliotrope, regret mingles with their aroma; and, after all, the sacrifice was in vain, and Elsie would have slept as calmly there, under palm and chestnut, as yonder, where the deodar-shadows fall.”
”Is your life here a faithful transcript of that portion of it pa.s.sed at Funchal?”
”Yes; except that there I saw no human being but the servants, who transacted any business that demanded interviews with the consul.”
”It was fortunate that Elsie's wise counsel prevailed over your caprice, for many of your griefs proceed from the complete isolation to which you so strangely doom yourself; and until you become a useful member of that society you are so fully fitted to adorn and elevate, you need not hope or expect the peace of mind that results only from the consciousness of having n.o.bly discharged the sacred obligations to G.o.d, and to your race. 'Bear ye one another's burdens,' was the solemn admonition of Him who sublimely bore the burdens of an entire world.
Now tell me, have you ever stretched out a finger to aid the toiling mult.i.tudes whose cry for help wails over even the most prosperous lands? What have you done to strengthen trembling hands, or comfort and gladden oppressed hearts? How dare you h.o.a.rd within your own home the treasure of fortune, talent, and sympathy, which were temporarily entrusted to your hands, to be sown broadcast in n.o.ble charities,--to be judiciously invested in promoting the cause of Truth in the fierce war Evil wages against it? Hitherto you have lived solely for yourself, which is a sin against humanity; and have pampered a morbid and rebellious spirit, that is a grevious sin against your G.o.d. Shake off your lethargy and cynicism, and let a busy future redeem a vagrant and worthless past. '_He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him._'”
The flowers dropped on her bosom, and, clasping her hands across her forehead, she turned her face towards the sea, and seemed pondering his words.
”Dr. Grey, my purse has always been open to the needy, and Elsie was my almoner. Whenever you find a dest.i.tute family, or hear an appeal for help, I shall gladly respond, and const.i.tute you the agent for the distribution of my charity-fund. As for bearing the sorrows of others, pray excuse me. I am so weighed down with my own burdens that I have no strength or leisure to spare to my neighbors, and since I ask no aid, must not be censured for rendering none. It is utterly useless to urge me to enter society, for like that sad pilgrim in Brittany, 'In losing solitude I lose the half of my soul. I go out into the world with a secret horror. When I withdraw, I gather together and lock up my scattered treasure, but I put away my ideas sorely handled, like fruits fallen from the tree upon stones.' No, no; in seclusion I find the only modic.u.m of peace that earth can ever yield me, and can readily understand why Chateaubriand avoided those crowds which he denominated, 'The vast desert of men.'”
”You must not be offended, if, in reply, I remind you of the rude but vigorous words of that prince of cynics, Schopenhauer, 'Society is a fire at which the wise man from a prudent distance warms himself; not plunging into it, like the fool who after getting well blistered, rushes into the coldness of solitude, and complains that the fire burns.' Of the two evils, reckless dissipation and gloomy isolation, the latter is probably an economy of sin; but since neither is inevitable, we should all endeavor to render ourselves useful members of society, and unfurl over our circle the banner of St. Paul, 'Use this world as not abusing it.' Mrs. Gerome, do not obstinately mar the present and future, by brooding bitterly over the trials of the past; but try to believe that, indeed,--
... 'Sorrows humanize our race; Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.
And memory of things precious keepeth warm The heart that once did hold them.'”
He watched her eagerly yet gravely, hoping that her face would soften; but she raised her hand with a proud, impatient motion.
”You talk at random, concerning matters of which you know nothing. I hate the world and have abjured it, and you might as well go down yonder and harangue the ocean on the sin of its ceaseless muttering, as expect to remodel my aimless, blank life.”
Pained and disappointed, he remained silent, and, as if conscious of a want of courtesy, she added,--
”Do not allow your generous heart to be disquieted on my account, but leave me to a fate which can not be changed,--which I have endured seven years, and must bear to my grave. Now that you see how desolate I am, pity me, and be silent.”
”It will be difficult for you to regain your strength here, where so many mournful a.s.sociations surround you, and I came to-day to beg you to take a trip somewhere, by sea or land. Almost any change of scene and air will materially benefit you, and you need not be absent more than a few weeks. Will you take the matter under consideration?”
”No, sir; why should I? Can hills or waves, dells or lakes, cure a mind which you a.s.sure me is diseased? Can sea breeze or mountain air fan out recollections that have jaundiced the heart, or furnish an opiate that will effectually deaden and quiet regret? I long ago tried your remedy--travelling, and for four years I wandered up and down, and over the face of the old world; but amid the crumbling columns of Persepolis, I was still Agla Gerome, the wretched; and when I stood on the margin of the Lake of Wan, I saw in its waves the reflection of the same hopeless woman who now lies before you. Change of external surroundings is futile, and no more affects the soul than the roar of surface-surf changes the hollow of an ocean bed where the dead sleep; and, verily,--
'My heart is a drear Golgotha, where all the ground is white With the wrecks of joys that have perished,--the skeletons of delight.'”
He saw that in her present mood expostulation would only aggravate the evil he longed to correct, and hoping to divert the current of her thoughts, he said,--
”I trust you will not deem me impertinently curious if I ask what singular freak bestowed upon you the name of 'Agla'?”
A startling change swept over her features, and her tone was haughtily challenging.
”What interest can Dr. Grey find in a matter so trivial? If I were named Hecate or Persephone, would the world have a right to demur, to complain, or to criticise?”
”When a lady bears the mystic name, which, in past ages, was given to the Deity, by a race who, if superst.i.tious, were at least devout and reverent, she should not be surprised if it excites wonder and comment. Forgive me, however, if my inquiry annoyed you.”
He rose and took his hat, but her hand caught his arm.
”Do you know the import of the word?”
”Yes; I understand the significance of the letters, and the wonderful power attributed to them when arranged in the triangles and called the 's.h.i.+eld of David.' Knowing that it was considered talismanic, I could not imagine why you were christened with so mystical a name.”
”I was never christened.”