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Page 38
"The next morning there came in to Mr. Denham's, a young gentleman with
Mr. Clifford, who you know stopped here with Captain Pierce; and they
both shook me warmly by the hand. This young gentleman's name was
Bernard, and while Agnes was talking to Mr. Clifford, he asked me many
questions about my home, and about the people that lived here, and
wanted to know if there were often shipwrecks near the place. I knew
well enough what he wished to find out, for I saw him, every now and
then, look at Miss Agnes so wistfully and sad, and then at Mr. Clifford,
as though he envied him the seat near her, and so I felt a kind of pity
for him, and began to tell him, in a low tone, what I knew he was
longing to hear, though I suppose he had heard it all before; but,
somehow, people never get weary of hearing about the one they love. And,
oh, he grew so lively, as I went on, and seemed such a pleased
listener,--and when I told him how much good she had done, and what a
change had come over the place, while she stopped here; the day and
night schools she had formed, and the services she had held on the
Sabbath, his very eyes seemed to thank me, they shone so brightly; and
when I had finished, he said, in a low tone, which he did not think I
overheard,
"'Yes, she is indeed an angel; so much the more bitter for me!'
"They left soon after, Mr. Clifford being in somewhat of a hurry; so Mr.
Bernard had but little opportunity of conversing with Miss Agnes; and
after they were gone, she stood by the window in silence for a few
moments, and when she turned to speak, I saw that a tear had fallen on
her long lashes, but she said, in a cheerful tone, 'We will go now and
take the promised drive.'
"And so we did, and a charming one it was. Mr. Denham came with us, and
he pointed out everything to me that was new and beautiful; if I had
been his own daughter, he could not have been kinder.
"But still, while I was looking at all the noble buildings, I could not
help thinking of Mr. Bernard; and then Miss Agnes, while she talked and
laughed a good deal, seemed as though she were striving to be cheerful,
I thought it did not come as natural to her there, as it did when she
was with us, and I half fancied something was going wrong.
"Then her uncle began to talk of Mr. Clifford, and to praise him very
much; and I watched her, though she little knew it; but she joined with
him warmly, and her color never rose a bit, nor her voice faltered. By
and bye, somehow or another, I believe it was myself spoke of Mr.
Bernard, and he, too, came in for a large share of praise from Mr.
Denham; but Agnes only responded, 'Yes, I have no doubt of it,' looking
at the same time very earnestly out of the carriage window; but I caught
a glimpse of her face, as she turned it, and saw a delicate rose-color
flush her cheeks, and then I knew that Mr. Bernard need not despair.
"So it went on from day to day. We rode, and walked, and shopped, and
visited, and attended museums, and lectures, and meetings, and yet I
fancied Agnes grew sadder and sadder; and Mr. Bernard, when I saw him
now and then, for he did not come much to the house, looked like a man
who was bravely struggling against some misfortune, which, in spite of
his efforts, was well nigh crushing him.
"But one evening, Agnes had been invited out to a dinner party; they had
sent me an invitation, also, but I declined going, for I knew I should
not feel at home among so many strangers, and they so far above me; so I
remained with Mr. and Mrs. Denham.
"'I would far rather stay with you,' Miss Agnes said, 'than go out this
evening, but these are very particular friends, who would feel I
slighted them, if I remained away; but, indeed, I do not feel at all
well.'
"I was in her dressing-room at the time, and she was preparing for the
occasion.
"'You do look pale, Miss Agnes,' I replied, 'and your eyes look heavy.'
I was pretty sure, from their appearance, she had been weeping that
afternoon.
"However, she went; for it was not her fashion to consult her own ease,
when others were to be gratified.
"It was little more than 10 o'clock that night; Edward had been with me
during the evening, but had just returned to his ship, and Mr. and Mrs.
Denham had retired to rest, for they kept early hours; I was sitting in
the parlor, reading a beautiful book, a present from Agnes, when I heard
steps coming up the gravel walk, and a murmur of voices in earnest
conversation. I peeped through the half-closed blind, and beheld Miss
Wiltshire arm in arm with a gentleman, whom I took to be, though I could
not see very distinctly, Mr. Bernard.
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