Добавил:
ivanov666
Опубликованный материал нарушает ваши авторские права? Сообщите нам.
Вуз:
Предмет:
Файл:The Ways of The Hour
.pdf
THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
possibility that she could escape an early marriage in a state
of society like that of Manhattan. These were the reasons Mrs.
Updyke gave to her female confidants, when she deemed it
well to explain the motives of her present purpose. Without
intending to deceive, there was not a word of truth in these
explanations. In point of fact, Mrs. Updyke, well as she had
loved the husband of her youth, preserved les beaux restes of a
very warm and affectionate heart; and McBrain, a well – preserved, good – looking man, about a dozen years older than
herself, had found the means to awaken its sympathies to such
a degree, as once more to place the comely widow completely
within the category of Cupid. It is very possible for a woman of
forty to love, and to love with all her heart; though the world
seldom takes as much interest in her weaknesses, if weakness
it is, than in those of younger and fairer subjects of the passion. To own the truth, Mrs. Updyke was profoundly in love,
while her betrothed met her inclination with an answering
sympathy that, to say the least, was fully equal to any tender
sentiment he had succeeded in awakening.
All this was to Tom Dunscomb what he called “nuts.” Three
times had he seen his old friend in this pleasant state of feeling, and three times was he chosen to be an attendant at the
altar; once in the recognised character of a groomsman, and
on the other two occasions in that of a chosen friend. Whether
the lawyer had himself completely escaped the darts of the
little god, no one could say, so completely had he succeeded in
veiling this portion of his life from observation; but, whether
he had or not, he made those who did submit to the passion
the theme of his untiring merriment.
191
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Children usually regard these tardy inclinations of their
parents with surprise, if not with downright distaste. Some
little surprise the pretty Anna Updyke may have felt, when
she was told by a venerable great – aunt that her mother was
about to be married; but of distaste there was none. She had
a strong regard for her new step – father, that was to be; and
thought it the most natural thing in the world to love. Sooth
to say, Anna Updyke had not been out two yearsthe American
girls are brought out so young! without having sundry suitors.
Manhattan is the easiest place in the world for a pretty girl,
with a good fortune, to get offers. Pretty girls with good fortunes are usually in request everywhere; but it requires the
precise state of society that exists in the “Great Commercial
Emporium,” to give a young woman the highest chance in the
old lottery. There, where one – half of the world came from
other worlds some half a dozen years since; where a good old
Manhattan name is regarded as upstart among a crowd that
scarcely knows whence it was itself derived, and whither it is
destined, and where few have any real position in society, and
fewer still know what the true meaning of the term is, money
and beauty are the constant objects of pursuit. Anna Updyke
formed no exception. She had declined, in the gentlest manner
possible, no less than six direct offers, coming from those who
were determined to lose nothing by diffidence; had thrown
cold water on more than twice that number of little flames
that were just beginning to burn; and had thrown into the
fire some fifteen or sixteen anonymous effusions, in prose and
verse, that came from adventurers who could admire from a
distance, at the opera and in the streets, but who had no pres-
192
THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
ent means of getting any nearer than these indirect attempts
at communication. We say “thrown into the fire;” for Anna
was too prudent, and had too much self – respect, to retain
such documents, coming, as they did, from so many “Little Unknowns.” The anonymous effusions were consequently burnt
with one exception. The exception was in the case of a sonnet, in which her hair and very beautiful it is was the theme.
From some of the little free – masonry of the intercourse of
the sexes, Anna fancied these lines had been written by Jack
Wilmeter, one of the most constant of her visiters, as well as
one of her admitted favourites. Between Jack and Anna there
had been divers passages of gallantry, which had been very
kindly viewed by McBrain and the mother. The parties themselves did not understand their own feelings; for matters had
not gone far, when Mary Monson so strangely appeared on the
stage, and drew Jack off, on the trail of wonder and mystery, if
not on that of real passion. As Sarah Wilmeter was the most
intimate friend of Anna Updyke, it is not extraordinary that
this singular fancy of the brother’s should be the subject of
conversation between the two young women, each of whom
probably felt more interest in his movements than any other
persons on earth. The dialogue we are about to relate took
place in Anna’s own room, the morning of the day which preceded that of the wedding, and followed naturally enough, as
the sequence of certain remarks which had been made on the
approaching event.
“If my mother were living, and must be married,” said Sarah
Wilmeter, “I should be very well content to have such a man as
Dr. McBrain for a step – father. I have known him all my life,
193
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
and he is, and ever has been, so intimate with uncle Tom, that
I almost think him a near relation.”
“And I have known him as long as I can remember,” Anna
steadily rejoined, “and have not only a great respect, but a warm
regard for him. Should I ever marry myself, I do not believe I
shall have one – half the attachment for my father – in – law
as I am sure I shall feel for my step – father.”
“How do you know there will be any father – in – law
in the case? I am sure John has no parent.” “John!” returned
Anna, faintly “What is John to me?”
“Thank you, my dear he is something, at least, to me.”
“To be surea brother naturally is but Jack is no brother of
mine, you will please to remember.”
Sarah cast a quick, inquiring look at her friend; but the
eyes of Anna were thrown downward on the carpet, while the
bloom on her cheek spread to her temples. Her friend saw that,
in truth, Jack was no brother of hers.
“What I mean is this”continued Sarah, following a thread
that ran through her own mind, rather than anything that
had been already expressed “Jack is making himself a very silly
fellow just now.”
Anna now raised her eyes; her lip quivered a little, and
the bloom deserted even her cheek. Still, she made no reply.
Women can listen acutely at such moments; but it commonly
exceeds their powers to speak. The friends understood each
other, as Sarah well knew, and she continued her remarks precisely as if the other had answered them.
“Michael Millington brings strange accounts of Jack’s behaviour at Biberry! He says that he seems to do nothing, think
194
THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
of nothing, talk of nothing, but of the hardship of this Mary
Monson’s case.”
“I’m sure it is cruel enough to awaken the pity of a rock,”
said Anna Updyke, in a low tone; “a woman, and she a lady,
accused of such terrible crimes murder and arson!”
“What is arson, child? and how do you know anything
about it?”
Again Anna coloured, her feelings being all sensitiveness
on this subject; which had caused her far more pain than she
had experienced from any other event in her brief life. It was,
however, necessary to answer.
“Arson is setting fire to an inhabited house,” she said, after
a moment’s reflection; “and I know it from having been told its
signification by Mr. Dunscomb.”
“Did uncle Tom say anything of this Mary Monson, and of
Jack’s singular behaviour?”
“He spoke of his client as a very extraordinary person, and
of her accomplishments, and readiness, and beauty. Altogether, he does not seem to know what to make of her.”
“And what did he say about Jack? You need have no reserve with me, Anna; I am his sister.”
“I know that very well, dear Sarah but Jack’s name was not
mentioned, I believe certainly not at the particular time, and
in the conversation to which I now refer.”
“But at some other time, my dear, and in some other con-
versation.”
“He did once say something about your brother’s being
very attentive to the interests of the person he calls his Duke’s
county client nothing more, I do assure you. It is the duty of
195
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
young lawyers to be very attentive to the interests of their clients, I should think.”
“Assuredly and that most especially when the client is a
young lady with a pocket full of money. But Jack is above want,
and can afford to act right at all times and on all occasions. I
wish he had never seen this strange creature.”
Anna Updyke sat silent for some little time, playing with
the hem of her pocket – handkerchief. Then she said timidly,
speaking as if she wished an answer, even while she dreaded it
“Does not Marie Moulin know something about her?”
“A great deal, if she would only tell it. But Marie, too, has
gone over to the enemy, since she has seen this siren. Not a
word can I get out of her, though I have written three letters,
beyond the fact that she knows Mademoiselle, and that she
cannot believe her guilty.”
“The last, surely, is very important. If really innocent, how
hard has been the treatment she has received! It is not surprising that your brother feels so deep an interest in her. He is very
warm – hearted and generous, Sarah; and it is just like him to
devote his time and talents to the service of the oppressed.”
It was Sarah’s turn to be silent and thoughtful. She made
no answer, for she well understood that an impulse very different from that mentioned by her friend was, just then, influencing her brother’s conduct.
We have related this conversation as the briefest mode of
making the reader acquainted with the true state of things in
and about the neat dwelling of Mrs. Updyke in Eighth – street.
Much, however, remains to be told; as the morning of the very
day which succeeded that on which the foregoing dialogue
196
THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
was held, was the one named for the wedding of the mistress
of the house.
At the very early hour of six, the party met at the church
door, one of the most gothic structures in the new quarter of
the town; and five minutes sufficed to make the two one. Anna
sobbed as she saw her mother passing away from her, as it then
appeared to her; and the bride herself was a little overcome. As
for McBrain, as his friend Dunscomb expressed it, in a description given to a brother bachelor, who met him at dinner
“He stood fire like a veteran! You’re not going to frighten
a fellow who has held forth the ring three times. You will remember that Ned has previously killed two wives, besides all
the other folk he has slain; and I make no doubt the fellow’s
confidence was a good deal increased by the knowledge he
possesses that none of us are immortalas husbands and wives,
at least.”
But Tom Dunscomb’s pleasantries had no influence on his
friend’s happiness. Odd as it may appear to some, this connection was one of a warm and very sincere attachment. Neither
of the parties had reached the period of life when nature begins to yield to the pressure of time; and there was the reasonable prospect before them of their contributing largely to each
other’s future happiness. The bride was dressed with great
simplicity, but with a proper care; and she really justified the
passion that McBrain insisted, in his conversations with Dunscomb, that he felt for her. Youthful, for her time of life, modest in demeanour and aspect, still attractive in person, the
`Widow Updyke’ became Mrs. McBrain, with as charming
an air of womanly feeling as might have been exhibited by one
197
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
of less than half her age. Covered with blushes, she was handed by the bridegroom into his own carriage, which stood at the
church – door, and the two proceeded to Timbully.
As for Anna Updyke, she went to pass a week in the country
with Sarah Dunscomb; even a daughter being a little de trop,
in a honey – moon. Rattletrap was the singular name Tom
Dunscomb had given to his country – house. It was a small
villa – like residence, on the banks of the Hudson, and within
the island of Manhattan. Concealed in a wood, it was a famous
place for a bachelor to hide his oddities in. Here Dunscomb
concentrated all his out – of – the – way purchases, including
ploughs that were never used, all sorts of farming utensils that
were condemned to the same idleness, and such contrivances
in the arts of fishing and shooting as struck his fancy; though
the lawyer never handled a rod or levelled a fowling – piece.
But Tom Dunscomb, though he professed to despise love, had
fancies of his own. It gave him a certain degree of pleasure to
seem to have these several tastes; and he threw away a good
deal of money in purchasing these characteristic ornaments
for Rattletrap. When Jack Wilmeter ventured, one day, to ask
his uncle what pleasure he could find in collecting so many
costly and perfectly useless articles, implements that had not
the smallest apparent connection with his ordinary pursuits
and profession, he got the following answer:
“You are wrong, Jack, in supposing that these traps are useless. A lawyer has occasion for a vast deal of knowledge that he
will never get out of his books. One should have the elements
of all the sciences, and of most of the arts, in his mind, to make
a thoroughly good advocate; for their application will become
198
THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
necessary on a thousand occasions, when Blackstone and Kent
can be of no service. No, no; I prize my professions highly, and
look upon Rattletrap as my Inn of Court.”
Jack Wilmeter had come over from Biberry to attend the
wedding, and had now accompanied the party into the country, as it was called; though the place of Dunscomb was so near
town that it was not difficult, when the wind was at the southward, to hear the fire – bell on the City Hall. The meeting between John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke had been fortunately
a little relieved by the peculiar circumstances in which the
latter was placed. The feeling she betrayed, the pallor of her
cheek, and the nervousness of her deportment, might all, naturally enough, be imputed to the emotions of a daughter, who
saw her own mother standing at the altar, by the side of one
who was not her natural father. Let this be as it might, Anna
had the advantage of the inferences which those around her
made on these facts. The young people met first in the church,
where there was no opportunity for any exchange of language
or looks. Sarah took her friend away with her alone, on the
road to Rattletrap, immediately after the ceremony, in order
to allow Anna’s spirits and manner to become composed, without being subjected to unpleasant observation. Dunscomb and
his nephew drove out in a light vehicle of the latter’s; and Michael Millington appeared later at the villa, bringing with him
to dinner, Timms, who came on business connected with the
approaching trial.
There never had been any love – making, in the direct
meaning of the term, between John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke. They had known each other so long and so intimately,
199
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
that both regarded the feeling of kindness that each knew
subsisted, as a mere fraternal sort of affection. “Jack is Sarah’s
brother,” thought Anna, when she permitted herself to reason
on the subject at all; “and it is natural that I should have more
friendship for him than for any other young man.” “Anna is
Sarah’s most intimate friend,” though Jack, “and that is the
long and short of my attachment for her. Take away Sarah,
and Anna would be nothing to me; though she is so pretty,
and clever, and gentle, and lady – like. I must like those Anna
likes, or it might make us both unhappy.” This was the reasoning of nineteen, and when Anna Updyke was just budding
into young womanhood; at a later day, habit had got to be
so much in the ascendant, that neither of the young people
thought much on the subject at all. The preference was strong
in each so strong, indeed, as to hover over the confines of passion, and quite near to its vortex; though the long accustomed
feeling prevented either from entering into its analysis. The
attachments that grow up with our daily associations, and get
to be so interwoven with our most familiar thoughts, seldom
carry away those who submit to them, in the whirlwind of passion; which are much more apt to attend sudden and impulsive love. Cases do certainly occur in which the parties have
long known each other, and have lived on for years in a dull
appreciation of mutual merit sometimes with prejudices and
alienation active between them; when suddenly all is changed,
and the scene that was lately so tranquil and tame becomes
tumultuous and glowing, and life assumes a new charm, as the
profound emotions of passion chase away its dulness; substituting hope, and fears, and lively wishes, and soul – felt im-
200
Соседние файлы в предмете [НЕСОРТИРОВАННОЕ]