It was late in February before the party reached home. Thurston's business finished he also hastened back and sought out Marian. One memorable1 episode must be related. Thurston had met Marian not many yards down the lonely forest foot-path, leading from the village school to Old Fields one evening.
After a walk of about a quarter of a mile through the bushes they descended2 by the natural staircase of moss-covered rocks, and sat down together upon a bed of violets at its foot.
Before them, through the canopy3 of over-arching trees, was seen, like a picture in its frame of foliage4, a fine view of the open country and the bay now bathed in purple haze5 of evening.
But the fairest prospect6 that ever opened had no more attraction for Thurston than if it had been a view of chimney tops from a back attic7 window. He passed his right hand around Marian's shoulders, and drew her closer to his side, and with the other hand began to untie8 her bonnet9 strings10.
"Lay off this little bonnet. Let me see your beauteous head uncovered. There!" he said, putting it aside, and smoothing her bright locks. "Oh, Marian! my love! my queen! when I see only the top of your head, I think your rippling11, sunny tresses your chief beauty; but soon my eyes fall to the blooming cheek—there never was such a cheek—so vivid, yet so delicate, so glowing, yet so cool and fresh—like the damask rose bathed in morning dew—so when I gaze on it I think the blushing cheek your sweetest charm—ah! but near by breathe the rich, ripe lips, fragrant12 as nectarines; and which I should swear to be the very buds of love, were not my gaze caught up to meet your eyes—stars!—and then I know that I have found the very soul of beauty! Oh! priceless pearl! By what rare fortune was it that I ever found you in these Maryland woods? Love! Angel! Marian! for that means all!" he exclaimed, in a sort of ecstasy13, straining her to his side.
And Marian dropped her blushing face upon his shoulder—she was blushing not from bashful love alone—with it mingled14 a feeling of shame, regret, and mistrust, because he praised so much her form and face; because he seemed to love her only for her superficial good looks. She would have spoken if she could have done so; she would have told what was on her heart as earnest as a prayer by saying:
"Oh, do not think so much of this perishable16, outward beauty; accident may ruin it, sickness may injure it, time will certainly impair17 it. Do not love me for that which I have no power over, and which may be taken from me at any time—which I shall be sure to lose at last—love me for something better and more lasting18 than that. I have a heart in this bosom19 worth all the rest, a heart that in itself is an inner world—a kingdom worthy20 of your rule—a heart that neither time, fortune, nor casualty can ever change—a heart that loves you now in your strong and beautiful youth, and will love you when you are old and gray, and when you are one of the redeemed21 of heaven. Love me for this heart."
But to have saved her own soul or his, Marian could not then have spoken those words.
So he continued to caress22 her—every moment growing more and more enchanted23 with her loveliness. There was more of passion than affection in his manner, and Marian felt and regretted this, though her feeling was not a very clearly defined one—it was rather an instinct than a thought, and it was latent, and quite subservient24 to her love for him.
"Love! angel! how enchanting25 you are," he exclaimed, catching26 her in his arms and pressing kisses on her cheek and lips and neck.
Glowing with color, Marian strove to release herself. "Let me go—let us leave this place, dear Thurston," she pleaded, attempting to rise.
"Why? Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you wish to leave me?" he asked, without releasing his hold.
"It is late! Dear Thurston, it is late," she said, in vague alarm.
"That does not matter—I am with you."
"They will be anxious about me, pray let us go! They will be so anxious!" she said, with increasing distress27, trying to get away. "Thurston! Thurston! You distress me beyond measure," she exclaimed in great trouble.
But he stopped her breath with kisses.
Marian suddenly ceased to struggle, and by a strong effort of will she became perfectly28 calm. And looking in his eyes, with her clear, steady gaze, she said:
"Thurston, I have ceased to strive. But if you are a man of honor, you will release me."
His arms dropped from around her as if he had been struck dead.
Glad to be free, Marian arose to depart. Thurston sat still—his fine countenance29 overclouded with mortification30 and anger. Marian hesitated; she knew not how to proceed. He did not offer to rise and attend her. At length she spoke15.
"Will you see me safely through the woods, Thurston?"
He did not answer.
"Thurston, it is nearly dark—there are several runaway31 negroes in the forest now, and the road will not be safe for me."
"Good-night, then," she said.
"Good-night, Marian."
She turned away and ascended32 the steps with her heart filled nearly to bursting with grief, indignation and fear. That he should let her take that long, dark, dangerous walk alone! it was incredible! she could scarcely realize it, or believe it! Her unusually excited feelings lent wings to her feet, and she walked swiftly for about a quarter of a mile, and then was forced to pause and take breath. And then every feeling of indignation and fear was lost in that of sorrow, that she had wounded his feelings, and left him in anger. And Marian dropped her face into her open hands and wept. A step breaking through the brushwood made her start and tremble. She raised her head with the attitude of one prepared for a spring and flight. It was so dark she could scarcely see her hands before her, but as the step approached, a voice said:
"Fear nothing, Marian, I have not lost sight of you since you left me," and Thurston came up to her side.
With a glad smile of surprise Marian turned to greet him, holding out her hand, expecting him to draw it through his arm and lead her on. But no, he would not touch her hand. Lifting his hat slightly, he said:
"Go forward if you please to do so, Marian. I attend you."
Marian went on, and he followed closely. They proceeded in silence for some time. Now that she knew that he had not left her a moment alone in the woods, she felt more deeply grieved at having so mortified33 and offended him. At last she spoke:
"Pray, do not be angry with me, dear Thurston."
"I am not angry that I know of, fair one; and you do me too much honor to care about my mood. Understand me once for all. I am not a Dr. Grimshaw, in any phase of that gentleman's character. I am neither the tyrant34 who will persecute35 you to exact your attention, nor yet the slave who will follow and coax36 and whine37 and wheedle38 for your favor. In either character I should despise myself too much," he answered, coolly.
"Thurston, you are deeply displeased39, or you would not speak so, and I am very, very sorry," said Marian in a tremulous voice.
"Do not distress yourself about me, fair saint! I shall trouble you no more after this evening!"
What did he mean? What could Thurston mean? Trouble her no more after this evening! She did not understand the words, but they went through her bosom like a sword. She did not reply—she could not. She wished to say:
"Oh, Thurston, if you could read my heart—how singly it is devoted40 to you—how its thoughts by day, and dreams by night are filled with histories and images of what I would be, and do or suffer for you—of how faithfully I mean to love and serve you in all our coming years—you would not mistake me, and get angry, because you would know my heart." But these words Marian could not have uttered had her life depended on it.
And they went on until the light from Old Field Cottage was visible.
Then Marian said:
"You had better leave me now. They are sitting up and watching for me."
"No! go on, the night is very dark. I must see you to the gate."
They walked rapidly, and just as they approached the house Marian saw a little figure wandering about on the moor, and which suddenly sprang toward her with an articulate cry of joy! It was Miriam, who threw herself upon Marian with such earnestness of welcome that she did not notice Thurston, who now raised his hat slightly from his head, with a slight nod, and walked rapidly away.
"Here she is, mother! Oh! here she is!" cried Miriam, pulling at
Marian's dress and drawing her in the house.
"Oh! Marian, how anxious you have made us! Where have you been?" asked
Edith, in a tone half of love, half of vexation.
"I have been detained," said Marian, in a low voice.
The cottage room was very inviting42. The evening was just chilly43 enough to make the bright little wood fire agreeable. On the clean hearth44 before it sat the tea-pot and a covered plate of toast waiting for Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off her straw bonnet and muslin scarf and sat down and tried to eat, for affectionate eyes had already noticed the trouble of her countenance, and were watching her now with anxiety.
"You do not seem to have an appetite, dear; what is the matter?" asked
Edith.
"I am not very well," said Marian, rising and leaving the table, and refraining with difficulty from bursting into tears.
"It's dat ar cussed infunnelly party at Lockemup—last Toosday!" said Jenny, as she cleared away the tea service—"a-screwin' up tight in cusseds an' ball-dresses! an' a-dancing all night till broad daylight! 'sides heavin' of ever so much unwholesome 'fectionery trash down her t'roat—de constitution ob de United States hisself couldn't stan' sich! much less a delicy young gall45! I 'vises ov you, honey, to go to bed."
"Indeed, Marian, it was too much for you to lose your rest all night, and then have to get up early to go to school. You should have had a good sleep this morning. And then to be detained so late this evening. Did you have to keep any of the girls in, or was it a visit from the trustees that detained you?"
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1
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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2
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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3
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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4
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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5
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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6
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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7
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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8
untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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9
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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10
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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11
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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12
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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13
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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14
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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15
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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16
perishable
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| adj.（尤指食物）易腐的，易坏的 | |
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17
impair
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| v.损害，损伤；削弱，减少 | |
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18
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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19
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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20
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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21
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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22
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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23
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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24
subservient
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| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
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25
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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26
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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27
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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28
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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29
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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30
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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31
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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32
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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34
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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35
persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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36
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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37
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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38
wheedle
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| v.劝诱，哄骗 | |
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39
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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40
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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41
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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42
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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43
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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44
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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45
gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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46
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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