The latter had found the right antidote4. Not a moment was left for morbid5 brooding. On every side were sharp physical distress6, deadly peril7 to life and limb, pathetic efforts to hold ground against diseases or sloughing8 wounds. In aiding such endeavor, in giving moral support and physical care, Martine forgot himself. Helen's letters also were an increasing inspiration. He could scarcely take up one of them and say, "Here her words begin to have a warmer tinge9 of feeling;" but as spring advanced, imperceptibly yet surely, in spite of pauses and apparent retrogressions, just so surely she revealed a certain warmth of sympathy. He was engaged in a work which made it easy for her to idealize him. His unselfish effort to help men live, to keep bitter tears from the eyes of their relatives, appealed most powerfully to all that was unselfish in her nature, and she was beginning to ask, "If I can make this man happier, why should I not do so?" Nichol's letter gained a new meaning in the light of events: "I do not ask you to forget me—that would be worse than death—but I ask you to try to be happy and to make others happy."
"A noble, generous nature prompted those words," she now often mused10. "How can I obey their spirit better than in rewarding the man who not only has done so much for me, but also at every cost sought to rescue him?"
In this growing disposition11 she had no innate12 repugnance13 to overcome, nor the shrinking which can neither be defined nor reasoned against. Accustomed to see him almost daily from childhood, conscious for years that he was giving her a love that was virtually homage14, she found her heart growing very compassionate15 and ready to yield the strong, quiet affection which she believed might satisfy him. This had come about through no effort on her part, from no seeking on his, but was the result of circumstances, the outgrowth of her best and most unselfish feelings.
But the effect began to separate itself in character from its causes. All that had gone before might explain why she was learning to love him, and be sufficient reason for this affection, but a woman's love, even that quiet phase developing in Helen's heart, is not like a man's conviction, for which he can give his clear-cut reasons. It is a tenderness for its object—a wish to serve and give all in return for what it receives.
Martine vaguely16 felt this change in Helen long before he understood it. He saw only a warmer glow of sisterly affection, too high a valuation of his self-denying work, and a more generous attempt to give him all the solace17 and support within her power.
One day in July, when the war was well over and the field hospitals long since broken up, he wrote from Washington, where he was still pursuing his labors18:
"My work is drawing to a close. Although I have not accomplished19 a tithe20 of what I wished to do, and have soon so much left undone21, I am glad to remember that I have alleviated22 much pain and, I think, saved some lives. Such success as I have had, dear Helen, has largely been due to you. Your letters have been like manna. You do not know—it would be impossible for you to know—the strength they have given, the inspiration they have afforded. I am naturally very weary and worn physically23, and the doctors say I must soon have rest; but your kind words have been life-giving to my soul. I turn to them from day to day as one would seek a cool, unfailing spring. I can now accept life gratefully with the conditions which cannot be changed. How fine is the influence of a woman like you! What deep springs of action it touches! When waiting on the sick and wounded, I try to blend your womanly nature with my coarser fibre. Truly, neither of us has suffered in vain if we learn better to minister to others. I cannot tell you how I long to see the home gardens again; and it now seems that just to watch you in yours will be unalloyed happiness."
Helen smiled over this letter with sweet, deep meanings in her eyes.
One August evening, as the Kemble family sat at tea, he gave them a joyous24 surprise by appearing at the door and asking in a matter-of-fact voice, "Can you put an extra plate on the table?"
There was no mistaking the gladness of her welcome, for it was as genuine as the bluff25 heartiness26 of her father and the gentle solicitude27 of her mother, who exclaimed, "Oh, Hobart, how thin and pale you are!"
"A few weeks' rest at home will remedy all that," he said. "The heat in
Washington was more trying than my work."
"Well, thank the Lord! you ARE at home once more," cried the banker. "I was thinking of drawing on the authorities at Washington for a neighbor who had been loaned much too long."
"Helen," said Martine, with pleased eyes, "how well you look! It is a perfect delight to see color in your cheeks once more. They are gaining, too, their old lovely roundness. I'm going to say what I think right out, for I've been with soldiers so long that I've acquired their bluntness."
"It's that garden work you lured28 me into," she explained. "I hope you won't think your plants and trees have been neglected."
"Have you been keeping my pets from missing me?"
"I guess they have missed you least of all. Helen has seen to it that they were cared for first," said Mrs. Kemble, emphatically.
"You didn't write about that;" and he looked at the girl gratefully.
"Do you think I could see weeds and neglect just over the fence?" she asked, with a piquant29 toss of her head.
"Do you think I could believe that you cared for my garden only that your eyes might not be offended?"
"There, I only wished to give you a little surprise. You have treated us to one by walking in with such delightful30 unexpectedness, and so should understand. I'll show you when you are through supper."
"I'm through now;" and he rose with a promptness most pleasing to her. His gladness in recognizing old and carefully nurtured31 friends, his keen, appreciative32 interest in the new candidates for favor that she had planted, rewarded her abundantly.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "what a heavenly exchange from the close, fetid air of hospital wards33! Could the first man have been more content in his divinely planted garden?"
She looked at him shyly and thought, "Perhaps when you taste of the fruit of knowledge the old story will have a new and better meaning."
She now regarded him with a new and wistful interest, no longer seeing him through the medium of friendship only. His face, thin and spiritualized, revealed his soul without disguise. It was the countenance34 of one who had won peace through the divine path of ministry—healing others, himself had been healed. She saw also his unchanged, steadfast35 love shining like a gem36 over which flows a crystal current. Its ray was as serene37 as it was undimmed. It had taken its place as an imperishable quality in his character—a place which it would retain without vicissitude38 unless some sign from her called it into immediate1 and strong manifestation39. She was in no haste to give this. Time was touching40 her kindly41; the sharp, cruel outlines of the past were softening42 in the distance, and she was content to remember that the treasure was hers when she was ready for it—a treasure more valued daily.
With exultation43 she saw him honored by the entire community. Few days passed without new proofs of the hold he had gained on the deepest and best feelings of the people. She who once had pitied now looked up to him as the possessor of that manhood which the most faultless outward semblance44 can only suggest.
Love is a magician at whose touch the plainest features take on new aspects. Helen's face had never been plain. Even in its anguish45 it had produced in beholders the profound commiseration46 which is more readily given when beauty is sorrowful. Now that a new life at heart was expressing itself, Martine, as well as others, could not fail to note the subtile changes. While the dewy freshness of her girlish bloom was absent, the higher and more womanly qualities were now revealing themselves. Her nature had been deepened by her experiences, and the harmony of her life was all the sweeter for its minor47 chords.
To Martine she became a wonderful mystery, and he almost worshipped the woman whose love he believed buried in an unknown grave, but whose eyes were often so strangely kind. He resumed his old life, but no longer brooded at home, when the autumn winds began to blow. He recognized the old danger and shunned48 it resolutely49. If he could not beguile50 his thoughts from Helen, it was but a step to her home, and her eyes always shone with a luminous51 welcome. Unless detained by study of the legal points of some case in hand, he usually found his way over to the Kemble fireside before the evening passed, and his friends encouraged him to come when he felt like it. The old banker found the young man exceedingly companionable, especially in his power to discuss intelligently the new financial conditions into which the country was passing. Helen would smile to herself as she watched the two men absorbed in questions she little understood, and observed her mother nodding drowsily52 over her knitting. The scene was so peaceful, so cheery, so hopeful against the dark background of the past, that she could not refrain from gratitude53. Her heart no longer ached with despairing sorrow, and the anxious, troubled expression had faded out of her parents' faces.
"Yes," she would murmur54 softly to herself, "Albert was right; the bloody55 war has ceased, and the happy days of peace are coming. Heaven has blessed him and made his memory doubly blessed, in that he had the heart to wish them to be happy, although he could not live to see them. Unconsciously he took the thorns out of the path which led to his friend and mine. How richly father enjoys Hobart's companionship! He will be scarcely less happy—when he knows—than yonder friend, who is such a very scrupulous56 friend. Indeed, how either is ever going to know I scarcely see, unless I make a formal statement."
Suddenly Martine turned, and caught sight of her expression.
"All I have for your thoughts! What wouldn't I give to know them!"
Her face became rosier57 than the firelight warranted as she laughed outright58 and shook her head.
"No matter," he said; "I am content to hear you laugh like that."
"Yes, yes," added the banker; "Helen's laugh is sweeter to me than any music I ever heard. Thank God! we all can laugh again. I am getting old, and in the course of nature must soon jog on to the better country. When that time comes, the only music I want to hear from earth is good, honest laughter."
"Now, papa, hush59 that talk right away," cried Helen, with glistening60 eyes.
"What's the matter?" Mrs. Kemble asked, waking up.
"Nothing, my dear, only it's time for us old people to go to bed."
"Well, I own that it would be more becoming to sleep there than to reflect so unfavorably on your conversation. Of late years talk about money matters always puts me to sleep."
"That wasn't the case, was it, my dear, when we tried to stretch a thousand so it would reach from one January to another?"
"I remember," she replied, smiling and rolling up her knitting, "that we sometimes had to suspend specie payments. Ah, well, we were happy."
When left alone, it was Helen's turn to say, "Now your thoughts are wool-gathering. You don't see the fire when you look at it that way."
"No, I suppose not," replied Martine. "I'll be more frank than you. Your mother's words, 'We were happy,' left an echo in my mind. How experience varies! It is pleasant to think that there are many perfectly61 normal, happy lives like those of your father and mother."
"That's one thing I like in you, Hobart. You are so perfectly willing that others should be happy."
"Helen, I agree with your father. Your laugh WAS music, the sweetest I ever heard. I'm more than willing that you should be happy. Why should you not be? I have always felt that what he said was true—what he said about the right to laugh after sorrow—but it never seemed so true before. Who could wish to leave blighting62 sorrow after him? Who could sing in heaven if he knew that he had left tears which could not be dried on earth?"
"You couldn't," she replied with bowed head.
"Nor you, either; nor the brave man who died, to whom I only do justice in believing that he would only be happier could he hear your laugh. Your father's wholesome63, hearty64 nature should teach us to banish65 every morbid tendency. Let your heart grow as light as it will, my friend. Your natural impulses will not lead you astray. Good-night."
"You feel sure of that?" she asked, giving him a hand that fluttered in his, and looking at him with a soft fire in her eyes.
"Oh, Helen, how distractingly beautiful you are! You are blooming again like your Jack-roses when the second growth pushes them into flower. There; I must go. If I had a stone in my breast instead of a heart—Good-night. I won't be weak again."
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1
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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amputation
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| n.截肢 | |
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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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8
sloughing
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| v.使蜕下或脱落( slough的现在分词 )；舍弃；除掉；摒弃 | |
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9
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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17
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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19
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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alleviated
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| 减轻，缓解，缓和( alleviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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24
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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28
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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31
nurtured
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| 养育( nurture的过去式和过去分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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33
wards
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| 区( ward的名词复数 )； 病房； 受监护的未成年者； 被人照顾或控制的状态 | |
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34
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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36
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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37
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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38
vicissitude
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| n.变化，变迁，荣枯，盛衰 | |
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manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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40
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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41
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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42
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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43
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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44
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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45
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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48
shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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50
beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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51
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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52
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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53
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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54
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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55
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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56
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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57
rosier
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| Rosieresite | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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59
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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60
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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61
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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62
blighting
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| 使凋萎( blight的现在分词 )； 使颓丧； 损害； 妨害 | |
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63
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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64
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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65
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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