英语天堂-第43部分

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　similar　in　temperament　and　character；　one　had　settled　on　a　flourishing　farm　in　Vermont；　and　the　other　became　an　opulent　planter　in　Louisiana。　The　mother　of　Augustine　was　a　Huguenot　French　lady；　whose　family　had　emigrated　to　Louisiana　during　the　days　of　its　early　settlement。　Augustine　and　another　brother　were　the　only　children　of　their　parents。　Having　inherited　from　his　mother　an　exceeding　delicacy　of　constitution；　he　was；　at　the　instance　of　physicians；　during　many　years　of　his　boyhood；　sent　to　the　care　of　his　uncle　in　Vermont；　in　order　that　his　constitution　might；　be　strengthened　by　the　cold　of　a　more　bracing　climate。
In　childhood；　he　was　remarkable　for　an　extreme　and　marked　sensitiveness　of　character；　more　akin　to　the　softness　of　woman　than　the　ordinary　hardness　of　his　own　sex。　Time；　however；　overgrew　this　softness　with　the　rough　bark　of　manhood；　and　but　few　knew　how　living　and　fresh　it　still　lay　at　the　core。　His　talents　were　of　the　very　first　order；　although　his　mind　showed　a　preference　always　for　the　ideal　and　the　aesthetic；　and　there　was　about　him　that　repugnance　to　the　actual　business　of　life　which　is　the　common　result　of　this　balance　of　the　faculties。　Soon　after　the　completion　of　his　college　course；　his　whole　nature　was　kindled　into　one　intense　and　passionate　effervescence　of　romantic　passion。　His　hour　came；—the　hour　that　comes　only　once；　his　star　rose　in　the　horizon；—that　star　that　rises　so　often　in　vain；　to　be　remembered　only　as　a　thing　of　dreams；　and　it　rose　for　him　in　vain。　To　drop　the　figure；—he　saw　and　won　the　love　of　a　high…minded　and　beautiful　woman；　in　one　of　the　northern　states；　and　they　were　affianced。　He　returned　south　to　make　arrangements　for　their　marriage；　when；　most　unexpectedly；　his　letters　were　returned　to　him　by　mail；　with　a　short　note　from　her　guardian；　stating　to　him　that　ere　this　reached　him　the　lady　would　be　the　wife　of　another。　Stung　to　madness；　he　vainly　hoped；　as　many　another　has　done；　to　fling　the　whole　thing　from　his　heart　by　one　desperate　effort。　Too　proud　to　supplicate　or　seek　explanation；　he　threw　himself　at　once　into　a　whirl　of　fashionable　society；　and　in　a　fortnight　from　the　time　of　the　fatal　letter　was　the　acomepted　lover　of　the　reigning　belle　of　the　season；　and　as　soon　as　arrangements　could　be　made；　he　became　the　husband　of　a　fine　figure；　a　pair　of　bright　dark　eyes；　and　a　hundred　thousand　dollars；　and；　of　course；　everybody　thought　him　a　happy　fellow。
The　married　couple　were　enjoying　their　honeymoon；　and　entertaining　a　brilliant　circle　of　friends　in　their　splendid　villa；　near　Lake　Pontchartrain；　when；　one　day；　a　letter　was　brought　to　him　in　that　well…remembered　writing。　It　was　handed　to　him　while　he　was　in　full　tide　of　gay　and　sucomessful　conversation；　in　a　whole　room…full　of　company。　He　turned　deadly　pale　when　he　saw　the　writing；　but　still　preserved　his　composure；　and　finished　the　playful　warfare　of　badinage　which　he　was　at　the　moment　carrying　on　with　a　lady　opposite；　and；　a　short　time　after；　was　missed　from　the　circle。　In　his　room；　alone；　he　opened　and　read　the　letter；　now　worse　than　idle　and　useless　to　be　read。　It　was　from　her；　giving　a　long　acomount　of　a　persecution　to　which　she　had　been　exposed　by　her　guardian’s　family；　to　lead　her　to　unite　herself　with　their　son：　and　she　related　how；　for　a　long　time；　his　letters　had　ceased　to　arrive；　how　she　had　written　time　and　again；　till　she　became　weary　and　doubtful；　how　her　health　had　failed　under　her　anxieties；　and　how；　at　last；　she　had　discovered　the　whole　fraud　which　had　been　practised　on　them　both。　The　letter　ended　with　expressions　of　hope　and　thankfulness；　and　professions　of　undying　affection；　which　were　more　bitter　than　death　to　the　unhappy　young　man。　He　wrote　to　her　immediately：
“I　have　received　yours；—but　too　late。　I　believed　all　I　heard。　I　was　desperate。　I　am　married；　and　all　is　over。　Only　forget；—it　is　all　that　remains　for　either　of　us。”
And　thus　ended　the　whole　romance　and　ideal　of　life　for　Augustine　St。　Clare。　But　the　real　remained；—the　real；　like　the　flat；　bare；　oozy　tide…mud；　when　the　blue　sparkling　wave；　with　all　its　company　of　gliding　boats　and　white…winged　ships；　its　music　of　oars　and　chiming　waters；　has　gone　down；　and　there　it　lies；　flat；　slimy；　bare；—exceedingly　real。
Of　course；　in　a　novel；　people’s　hearts　break；　and　they　die；　and　that　is　the　end　of　it；　and　in　a　story　this　is　very　convenient。　But　in　real　life　we　do　not　die　when　all　that　makes　life　bright　dies　to　us。　There　is　a　most　busy　and　important　round　of　eating；　drinking；　dressing；　walking；　visiting；　buying；　selling；　talking；　reading；　and　all　that　makes　up　what　is　commonly　called　living；　yet　to　be　gone　through；　and　this　yet　remained　to　Augustine。　Had　his　wife　been　a　whole　woman；　she　might　yet　have　done　something—as　woman　can—to　mend　the　broken　threads　of　life；　and　weave　again　into　a　tissue　of　brightness。　But　Marie　St。　Clare　could　not　even　see　that　they　had　been　broken。　As　before　stated；　she　consisted　of　a　fine　figure；　a　pair　of　splendid　eyes；　and　a　hundred　thousand　dollars；　and　none　of　these　items　were　precisely　the　ones　to　minister　to　a　mind　diseased。
When　Augustine；　pale　as　death；　was　found　lying　on　the　sofa；　and　pleaded　sudden　sick…headache　as　the　cause　of　his　distress；　she　recommended　to　him　to　smell　of　hartshorn；　and　when　the　paleness　and　headache　came　on　week　after　week；　she　only　said　that　she　never　thought　Mr。　St。　Clare　was　sickly；　but　it　seems　he　was　very　liable　to　sick…headaches；　and　that　it　was　a　very　unfortunate　thing　for　her；　because　he　didn’t　enjoy　going　into　company　with　her；　and　it　seemed　odd　to　go　so　much　alone；　when　they　were　just　married。　Augustine　was　glad　in　his　heart　that　he　had　married　so　undiscerning　a　woman；　but　as　the　glosses　and　civilities　of　the　honeymoon　wore　away；　he　discovered　that　a　beautiful　young　woman；　who　has　lived　all　her　life　to　be　caressed　and　waited　on；　might　prove　quite　a　hard　mistress　in　domestic　life。　Marie　never　had　possessed　much　capability　of　affection；　or　much　sensibility；　and　the　little　that　she　had；　had　been　merged　into　a　most　intense　and　unconscious　selfishness；　a　selfishness　the　more　hopeless；　from　its　quiet　obtuseness；　its　utter　ignorance　of　any　claims　but　her　own。　From　her　infancy；　she　had　been　surrounded　with　servants；　who　lived　only　to　study　her　caprices；　the　idea　that　they　had　either　feelings　or　rights　had　never　dawned　upon　her；　even　in　distant　perspective。　Her　father；　whose　only　child　she　had　been；　had　never　denied　her　anything　that　lay　within　the　compass　of　human　possibility；　and　when　she　entered　life；　beautiful；　acomomplished；　and　an　heiress；　she　had；　of　course；　all　the　eligibles　and　non…eligibles　of　the　other　sex　sighing　at　her　feet；　and　she　had　no　doubt　that　Augustine　was　a　most　fortunate　man　in　having　obtained　her。　It　is　a　great　mistake　to　suppose　that　a　woman　with　no　heart　will　be　an　easy　creditor　in　the　exchange　of　affection。　There　is　not　on　earth　a　more　merciless　exactor　of　love　from　others　than　a　thoroughly　selfish　woman；　and　the　more　unlovely　she　grows；　the　more　jealously　and　scrupulously　she　exacts　love；　to　the　uttermost　farthing。　When；　therefore；　St。　Clare　began　to　drop　off　those　gallantries　and　small　attentions　which　flowed　at　first　through　the　habitude　of　courtship；　he　found　his　sultana　no　way　ready　to　resign　her　slave；　there　were　abundance　of　tears；　poutings；　and　small　tempests；　there　were　discontents；　pinings；　upbraidings。　St。　Clare　was　good…natured　and　self…indulgent；　and　sought　to　buy　off　with　presents　and　flatteries；　and　when　Marie　became　mother　to　a　beautiful　daughter；　he　really　felt　awakened；　for　a　time；　to　something　like　tenderness。
St。　Clare’s　mother　had　been　a　woman　of　uncommon　elevation　and　purity　of　character；　and　he　gave　to　his　child　his　mother’s　name；　fondly　fancying　that　she　would　prove　a　reproduction　of　her　image。　The　thing　had　been　remarked　with　petulant　jealousy　by　his　wife；　and　she　regarded　her　husband’s　absorbing　devotion　to　the　child　with　suspicion　and　dislike；　all　that　was　given　to　her　seemed　so　much　taken　from　herself。　From　the　time　of　the　birth　of　this　child；　her　health　gradually　sunk。　A　life　of　constant　inaction；　bodily　and　mental；—the　friction　of　ceaseless　ennui　and　discontent；　united　to　the　ordinary　weakness　which　attended　the　period　of　maternity；—in　course　of　a　few　years　changed　the　blooming　young　belle　into　a　yellow　faded；　sickly　woman；　whose　time　was　divided　among　a　variety　of　fanciful　diseases；　and　who　considered　herself；　in　every　sense；　the　most　ill…used　and　suffering　person　in　existence。
There　was　no　end　of　her　various　complaints；　but　her　principal　forte　appeared　to　lie　in　sick…headache；　which　sometimes　would　confine　her　to　her　room　three　days　out　of　six。　As；　of　course；　all　family　arrangements　fell　into　the　hands　of　servants；　St。　Clare　found　his　menage　anything　but　comfortable。　His　only　daughter　was　exceedingly　delicate；　and　he　feared　that；　with　no　one　to　look　after　her　and　attend　to　her；　her　health　and　life　might　yet　fall　a　sacrifice　to　her　mother’s　inefficiency。　He　had　taken　her　with　him　on　a　tour　to　Vermont；　and　had　persuaded　his　cousin；　Miss　Ophelia　St。　Clare；　to　return　with　him　to　his　southern　residence；　and　they　are　now　returning　on　this　boat；　where　we　have　introduced　them　to　our　readers。
And　now；　while　the　distant　domes　and　spires　of　New　Orleans　rise　to　our　view；　there　is　yet　time　for　an　introduction　to　Miss　Ophelia。
Whoever　has　travelled　in　the　New　England　States　will　remember；　in　some　cool　village；　the　large　farmhouse；　with　its　clean…swept　grassy　yard；　shaded　by　the　dense　and　massive　foliage　of　the　sugar　maple；　and　remember　the　air　of　order　and　stillness；　of　perpetuity　and　unchanging　repose；　that　seemed　to　breathe　over　the　whole　place。　Nothing　lost；　or　out　of　order；　not　a　picket　loose　in　the　fence；　not　a　particle　of　litter　in　the　turfy　yard；　with　its　clumps　of　lilac　bushes　growing　up　under　the　windows。　Within；　he　will　remember　wide；　clean　rooms；　where　nothing　ever　seems　to　be　doing　or　going　to　be　done；　where　everything　is　once　and　forever　rigidly　in　place；　and　where　all　household　arrangements　move　with　the　punctual　exactness　of　the　old　clock　in　the　corner。　In　the　family　“keeping…room；”　as　it　is　termed；　he　will　remember　the　staid；　respectable　old　book…case；　with　its　glass　doors；　where　Rollin’s　History；1　Milton’s　Paradise　Lost；　Bunyan’s　Pilgrim’s　Progress；　and　Scott’s　Family　Bible；2　stand　side　by　side　in　decorous　order；　with　multitudes　of　other　books；　equally　solemn　and　respectable。　There　are　no　servants　in　the　house；　but　the　lady　in　the　snowy　cap；　with　the　spectacles；　who　sits　sewing　every　afternoon　among　her　daughters；　as　if　nothing　ever　had　been　done；　or　were　to　be　done；—she　and　her　girls；　in　some　long…forgotten　fore　part　of　the　day；　“did　up　the　work；”　and　for　the　rest　of　the　time；　probably；　at　all　hours　when　you　would　see　them；　it　is　“done　up。”　The　old　kitchen　floor　never　seems　stained　or　spotted；　the　tables；　the　chairs；　and　the　various　cooking　utensils；　never　seem　deranged　or　disordered；　though　three　and　sometimes　four　meals　a　day　are　got　there；　though　the　family　washing　and　ironing　is　there　performed；　and　though　pounds　of　butter　and　cheese　are　in　some　silent　and　mysterious　manner　there　brought　into　existence。
On　such　a　farm；　in　such　a　house　and　family；　Miss　Ophelia　had　spent　a　quiet　existence　of　some　forty…five　years；　when　her　cousin　invited　her　to　visit　his　southern　mansion。　The　eldest　of　a　large　family；　she　was　still　considered　by　her　father　and　mother　as　one　of　“the　children；”　and　the　proposal　that　she　should　go　to　Orleans　was　a　most　momentous　one　to　the　family　circle。　The　old　gray…headed　father　took　down　Morse’s　Atlas3　out　of　the　book…case；　and　looked　out　the　exact　latitude　and　longitude；　and　read　Flint’s　Travels　in　the　South　and　West；4　to　make　up　his　own　mind　as　to　the　nature　of　the　country。
The　good　mother　inquired；　anxiously；　“if　Orleans　wasn’t　an　awful　wicked　place；”　saying；　“that　it　seemed　to　her　most　equal　to　going　to　the　Sandwich　Islands；　or　anywhere　among　the　heathen。”
It　was　known　at　the　minister’s　and　at　the　doctor’s；　and　at　Miss　Peabody’s　milliner　shop；　that　Ophelia　St。　Clare　was　“talking　about”　going　away　down　to　Orleans　with　her　cousin；　and　of　course　the　whole　village　could　do　no　less　than　help　this　very　important　process　of　taking　about　the　matter。　The　minister；　who　inclined　strongly　to　abolitionist　views；　was　quite　doubtful　whether　such　a　step　might　not　tend　somewhat　to　encourage　the　southerners　in　holding　on　to　their　slaves；　while　the　doctor；　who　was　a　stanch　colonizationist；　inclined　to　the　opinion　that　Miss　Ophelia　ought　to　go；　to　show　the　Orleans　people　that　we　don’t　think　hardly　of　them；　after　all。　He　was　of　opinion；　in　fact；　that　southern　people　needed　encouraging。　When　however；　the　fact　that　she　had　resolved　to　go　was　fully　before　the　public　mind；　she　was　solemnly　invited　out　to　tea　by　all　her　friends　and　neighbors　for　the　space　of　a　fortnight；　and　her　prospects　and　plans　duly　canvassed　and　inquired　into。　Miss　Moseley；　who　came　into　the　house　to　help　to　do　the　dress…making；　acquired　daily　acomessions　of　importance　from　the　developments　with　regard　to　Miss　Ophelia’s　wardrobe　which　she　had　been　enabled　to　make。　It　was　credibly　ascertained　that　Squire　Sinclare；　as　his　name　was　commonly　contracted　in　the　neighborhood；　had　counted　out　fifty　dollars；　and　given　them　to　Miss　Ophelia；　and　told　her　to　buy　any　clothes　she　thought　best；　and　that　two　new　silk　dresses；　and　a　bonnet；　had　been　sent　for　from　Boston。　As　to　the　propriety　of　this　extraordinary　outlay；　the　public　mind　was　divided；—some　affirming　that　it　was　well　enough；　all　things　considered；　for　once　in　one’s　life；　and　others　stoutly　affirming　that　the　money　had　better　have　been　sent　to　the　missionaries；　but　all　parties　agreed　that　there　had　been　no　such　parasol　seen　in　those　parts　as　had　been　sent　on　from　New　York；　and　that　she　had　one　silk　dress　that　might　fairly　be　trusted　to　stand　alone；　whatever　might　be　said　of　its　mistress。　There　were　credible　rumors；　also；　of　a　hemstitched　pocket…handkerchief；　and　report　even　went　so　far　as　to　state　that　Miss　Ophelia　had　one　pocket…handkerchief　with　lace　all　around　it；—it　was　even　added　that　it　was　worked　in　the　corners；　but　this　latter　point　was　never　satisfactorily　ascertained；　and　remains；　in　fact；　unsettled　to　this　day。
Miss　Ophelia；　as　you　now　behold　her；　stands　before　you；　in　a　very　shining　brown　linen　travelling…dress；　tall；　square…formed；　and　angular。　Her　face　was　thin；　and　rather　sharp　in　its　outlines；　the　lips　compressed；　like　those　of　a　person　who　is　in　the　habit　of　making　up　her　mind　definitely　on　all　subjects；　while　the　keen；　dark　eyes　had　a　peculiarly　searching；　advised　movement；　and　travelled　over　everything；　as　if　they　were　looking　for　something　to　take　care　of。
All　her　movements　were　sharp；　decided；　and　energetic；　and；　though　she　was　never　much　of　a　talker；　her　words　were　remarkably　direct；　and　to　the　purpose；　when　she　did　speak。
In　her　habits；　she　was　a　living　impersonation　of　order；　method；　and　exactness。　In　punctuality；　she　was　as　inevitable　as　a　clock；　and　as　inexorable　as　a　railroad　engine；　and　she　held　in　most　decided　contempt　and　abomination　anything　of　a　contrary　character。
The　great　sin　of　sins；　in　her　eyes；—the　sum　of　all　evils；—was　expressed　by　one　very　common　and　important　word　in　her　vocabulary—“shiftlessness。”　Her　finale　and　ultimatum　of　contempt　consisted　in　a　very　emphatic