Chapter XIV: The Separation
I MUST pass rapidly over the succeeding months. The first of October found Gertrude in her old home renewing her acquaintance with every nook and corner of the farm, caressing the old house dog, coaxing the draught horse to let her mount for a ride, and winning anew the hearts of the neighbors by her evident sympathy with all that concerned them.
Bridget was there too, having accompanied her master and mistress to New York at Edward's special request. He could see that Hannah's lame ancle made it painful for her to be on her feet from morning till night, as had been her custom; though she would acknowledge nothing of the kind, the young lawyer was sure Bridget's faithful service would turn to good account on the farm, when once initiated into the mysteries of butter and cheese making, raising Jersey calves and rare kinds of fowls.
Paul sailed from New York the last week in September, remaining in the city only three days. He was astonished to find that his brother-in-law had gathered a lucrative practice; for the gentleman had been very reticent concerning his own affairs, and was surprised into the remark:
"I've been thinking for some time that I made a mistake in going to Chicago; and perhaps if I don't succeed in making a good thing of this patent business I shall never go back."
It only needed this, to confirm Edward in his opinion of Paul. He was wanting in perseverance. "'Unstable as water thou shalt not excel,'" his father had frequently quoted to him, when he wished to leave college to go into mercantile business, or any where that he saw a prospect of rapidly accumulating a fortune.
During his visits to Chicago, Mr. Wallingford had learned that his brother-in-law was not considered as established in that city;—that he talked openly of going to Rochester or some place farther East. He bid Paul adieu at the wharf with a belief that it was the lawyer's intention to abandon his wife for some years.
In January Gertrude went to New York city, where her brother had engaged board for her and Marion who had promised to pass the rest of the winter with her friend. Here the best teachers were provided for the ardent scholar; who was bent on improving every hour of her husband's absence in fitting herself to ensure his respect. Constant employment was necessary to her happiness, else memory carried her back to the parting with Paul, so cool and careless on his part;—while she wept and clung to him as if she were never to see him again.
Once a month he had promised she should have a letter from him informing her where to direct to him.
For three months he kept his word. His letters were short, and one was addressed to Edward, requesting him to forward some documents necessary to his success; but they were more kind than his wife had looked for, and her spirits rose accordingly. She gained both strength and color in these quiet days; reminding Marion when she came on, of the bride when she first saw her.
In the third letter Paul told her to direct next to Paris, where he should remain till the first of the year; after that he should be travelling, and she must not be worried if she heard nothing for some months. He omitted in his haste to mention that Mr. Curtis and himself had joined a party of Americans and were intending to travel with them for the rest of the winter; and that Mr. Jackson, (who with his wife, and a younger sister were members of the party) having turned out a mere fortune hunter, found it very convenient to have some one to play the agreeable to his wife; and relieve him from a duty already become irksome.
This was the last they heard of the travellers for many months; and knew not therefore where to direct letters.
In May there was news for him; for on the first of the month when the fields were expected to be green, and the flowers in profusion, all of which the lateness of the season prevented, a second little blossom came to gladden Gertrude's anxious heart.
This was a boy, strong and resolute, who bid fair to fight his way in the world. Without a moment's hesitation his mother called him Paul, thereby proving, that however her husband regarded her, the affection she had professed for him remained in all its force.
Bridget's faculties were now brought into full play. She lived but for her darling; and proved herself so faithful a nurse that Gertrude still found many hours every day which she could devote to her books. She was now wanting six months of being nineteen, an age when many young ladies are leaving school, fancying their education complete; but when Gertrude was just awaking to the delight of gaining knowledge. Her thirst for it seemed almost unquenchable. She applied her acquisitions to a practical use, keeping all the farm, as well as the family accounts; and greatly amusing Marion, who had staid on from time to time, because her friend would not part from her, by sending for a book and studying the diseases of cattle; and finding cures for their various ills.
If Gertrude could have been relieved of anxiety concerning her husband, she would now have been perfectly happy. She was not only a pet but a companion to her brother, who confided to her his most important cases; and told her the course of argument he intended to pursue.
For his sake she interested herself in polities; and often surprised him and Marion by her shrewd remarks.
July was ushered in by a terrific thunder storm. Marion had insisted that she must leave directly after the fourth; and they were all congratulating her that she was not already in the cars. Edward who came up every night did not appear till an hour later than usual; and then looked so very stern and forbidding that Gertrude gazed at him in wonder, and profound astonishment.
By this time Marion seemed indeed like a sister, and was treated, both by Mr. Wallingford and Mrs. Dudley, with the frankness due to that relation. Gertrude was not at all surprised, therefore, to hear her brother ask the young girl to walk with him on the piazza.
She went to her room to undress little Paul, a delightful task, never delegated to another. On this occasion she lingered longer than usual, for the wide awake child was not readily soothed to sleep. At last dropping the lace netting around his crib, she descended the stairs leaving Bridget, with her sewing, within hearing.
Edward and Marion were sitting on the piazza; and she was about to join them, when she heard an exclamation:
"Disgraceful! He is a villain! I am surprised though I always distrusted him! And so lovely as she is; worthy the affection of a noble heart?"
Gertrude paused trembling from head to foot. Could it be Paul, her husband, of whom her dear friend was saying such hard things. Then he was alive; and one great throb of joy quickened her whole being; but presently came a resolve to hear the worst and stepping quickly forward she said:
"What is it, Edward? What bad news have you heard. If it concerns me, I can bear almost any thing better than to be kept in suspense."
"Come with me," said her brother, leading her into the parlor, when he shut the door.
"I have seen a gentleman to-day," he began, leading her to a seat, "who is acquainted with Paul. He parted from him the first of June. Your husband was aware he was coming direct to New York; and yet he sent no message."
He waited to see how she bore this; but as her countenance remained unchanged and she sat as erect as ever, he went on:
"Gertrude, darling sister, your affections were misplaced. Paul Dudley is unworthy of your love. You must forget him."
She found her voice now. Her eyes sparkled with indignation.
"Edward Wallingford," she began, "is it you who counsel me to break my vows; who tells a wife to forget the husband of her choice, the father of her babes? I cannot believe you are in earnest in what you say. I married too young, brother. I have always regretted that I did not listen to your advice, and wait till I had completed my education; but I never regretted that I chose Paul Dudley. I don't pretend that he has no faults. None of us are perfect; but whoever says I ought not to love and respect him, gives me wrong counsel and I reject it."
She drew up her form to its full height, her nostrils dilating; and her whole face expressing derision. The gazer thought he had never seen a finer, grander model of beauty.
"Gertrude," he urged tenderly, "do you think I would have taken up a mere rumor and brought it to you? The gentleman I saw was a stranger to me; and gave his evidence unbiased."
"What evidence?" She asked the question proudly.
"That Paul gained his case in March, and made a large sum of money by it. That Mr. Curtis was so much pleased he offered to make Dudley a sort of partner in the profits; that is he was to stay abroad and have a royalty on every article sold under their patent. It will be a year more, my informant tells me, before it is necessary for Paul to be there; but he is wasting his time while—"
"No, Edward; don't draw inferences which you may regret. He is travelling as he proposed to do. Why he doesn't write I don't pretend to explain. He may have written frequently and the letters be still delayed. You have told me nothing as yet which is disgraceful; unworthy an honorable man. (You see I overheard Marion's expressions.) Nothing to lead me even to a desire to forget the words, 'I promise to love, honor and obey Paul Dudley; to cling to him till death us do part.' You are prejudiced, Edward; Paul observed the change and mourned it. You will live to regret you suspected him. The year is not out. You know he is not aware he has a son; and you will see that he will either return or send for me to join him, and I shall go."
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Good for evilChapter XIV: The Separation
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