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Alonzo and Melissa; Or, The Unfeeling Father: An American Tale, Page 2

Daniel Jackson and I. Mitchell

business. He had loaned money, and taken mortgages on landsand houses for securities; and as payment frequently failed, he oftenhad opportunities of purchasing the involved premises at his own price.He well knew the worth of a shilling, and how to apply it to its bestuse; and in casting interest, he was sure never to lose a farthing.He had no other children except Edgar and Melissa, on whom hedoated.--Destitute of literature himself, he had provided the means ofobtaining it for his son, and as he was a rigid presbyterian, heconsidered that Edgar could no where figure so well, or gain moreeminence, than in the sacred desk.

  The time now arrived when Edgar and Alonzo were to part. The formerrepaired to New-York, where he was to enter upon his professionalstudies. The latter entered in the office of an eminent attorney in hisnative town, which was about twenty miles distant from the village inwhich lived the family of Edgar and Melissa. Alonzo was the frequentguest of this family; for though Edgar was absent, there was still acharm which attracted him hither. If he had admired the manly virtues ofthe brother, could he fail to adore the sublimer graces of the sister?If all the sympathies of the most ardent friendship had been drawn forthtowards the former, must not the most tender passions of the soul beattracted by the milder and more refined excellencies of the other?

  Beauman had become the suitor of Melissa; but the distance of residencerendered it inconvenient to visit her often. He came regularly once intwo or three months; of course Alonzo and he sometimes met. Beauman hadmade no serious pretensions, but his particularity indicated somethingmore than fashionable politeness.

  His manners, his independent situation, his family, entitled him torespect. "It is not probable therefore that he will be objectionable toMelissa's friends or to Melissa herself," said Alonzo, with aninvoluntary sigh.

  But as Beauman's visits to Melissa became more frequent, an increasinganxiety took place in Alonzo's bosom. He wished her to remain single;the idea of losing her by marriage, gave him inexpressible regret. Whatsubstitute could supply the happy hours he had passed in her company?What charm could wing the lingering moments when she was gone? In therecess of his studies, he could, in a few hours, be at the seat of herfather: there his cares were dissipated, and the troubles of life, realor imaginary, on light pinions, fleeted away.--How different would bethe scene when debarred from the unreserved friendship and conversationof Melissa; And unreserved it could not be, were she not exclusivelymistress of herself. But was there not something of a more refinedtexture than friendship in his predilection for the company of Melissa?If so, why not avow it? His prospects, his family, and of course hispretensions might not be inferior to those of Beauman. But perhapsBeauman was preferred. His opportunities had been greater; he had formedan acquaintance with her. Distance proved no barrier to his addresses.His visits became more and more frequent. Was it not then highlyprobable that he had secured her affections? Thus reasoned Alonzo, butthe reasoning tended not to allay the tempest which was gathering in hisbosom. He ordered his horse, and was in a short time at the seat ofMelissa's father.

  It was summer, and towards evening when he arrived. Melissa was sittingby the window when he entered the hall. She arose and received him witha smile. "I have just been thinking of an evening's walk, said she, buthad no one to attend me, and you have come just in time to perform thatoffice. I will order tea immediately, while you rest from the fatiguesof your journey."

  When tea was served up, a servant entered the room with a letter whichhe had found in the yard. Melissa received it.--"'Tis a letter, saidshe, which I sent by Beauman, to a lady in New-London, and the carelessman has lost it." Turning to Alonzo, "I forgot to tell you that yourfriend Beauman has been with us a few days; he left us this morning."

  "My friend!" replied Alonzo, hastily.

  "Is he not your friend?" enquired Melissa.

  "I beg pardon, madam," answered he, "my mind was absent."

  "He requested us to present his respects to his friend Alonzo," saidshe. Alonzo bowed and turned the conversation.

  They walked out and took a winding path which led along pleasant fieldsby a gliding stream, through a little grove and up a sloping eminence,which commanded an extensive prospect of the surrounding country; LongIsland, and the sound between that and the main land, and the openingthereof to the distant ocean.

  A soft and silent shower had descended; a thousand transitory gemstrembled upon the foliage glittering the western ray.--A bright rainbowsat upon a southern cloud; the light gales whispered among the branches,agitated the young harvest to billowy motion, or waved the tops of thedistant deep green forest with majestic grandeur. Flocks, herds, andcottages were scattered over the variegated landscape.

  Hills piled on hills, receding, faded from the pursuing eye, minglingwith the blue mist which hovered around the extreme verge of thehorizon. "This is a most delightful scene," said Melissa.

  "It is indeed, replied Alonzo; can New-London boast so charming aprospect?"

  Melissa. No--yes; indeed I can hardly say. You know, Alonzo, how I amcharmed with the rock at the point of the beach.

  Alonzo. You told me of the happy hours you had passed at that place.Perhaps the company which attended you there, gave the scenery itshighest embellishment.

  Melissa. I know not how it happened; but you are the only person whoever attended me there.

  Alonzo. That is a little surprising.

  Mel. Why surprising?

  Al. Where was Beauman?

  Mel. Perhaps he was not fond of solitude. Besides he was not always myBeauman.

  Al. Sometimes.

  Mel. Yes, sometimes.

  Al. And now always.

  Mel. Not this evening.

  Al. He formerly.

  Mel. Well.

  Al. And will soon claim the exclusive privilege so to do.

  Mel. That does not follow of course.

  Al. Of course, if his intentions are sincere, and the wishes of anothershould accord therewith.

  Mel. Who am I to understand by another?

  Al. Melissa. [A pause ensued.]

  Mel. See that ship, Alonzo, coming up the sound; how she ploughs throughthe white foam, while the breezes flutter among the sails, varying withthe beams of the sun.

  Al. Yes, it is almost down.

  Mel. What is almost down?

  Al. The sun. Was not you speaking of the sun, madam?

  Mel. Your mind is absent, Alonzo; I was speaking of yonder ship.

  Al. I beg pardon, madam. O yes--the ship--it--it bounds with rapidmotion over the waves.

  A pause ensued. They walked leisurely around the hill, and moved towardhome. The sun sunk behind the western hills.--Twilight arose in theeast, and floated along the air. Darkness began to hover around thewoodlands and vallies. The beauties of the landscape slowly receded."This reminds me of our walk at New-London," said Melissa. "Do youremember it?" enquired Alonzo. "Certainly I do," she replied, "I shallnever forget the sweet pensive scenery of my favourite rock." "Nor Ineither," said Alonzo with a deep drawn sigh.

  The next day Alonzo returned to his studies; but, different from hisformer visits to Melissa, instead of exhilarating his spirits, this hadtended to depress them. He doubted whether Melissa was not alreadyengaged to Beauman. His hopes would persuade him that this was not thecase; but his fears declared otherwise.

  * * * * *

  It was some time before Alonzo renewed his visit. In the interim hereceived a letter from a friend in the neighbourhood of Melissa'sfather; an extract from which follows:

  "We are soon to have a wedding here; you are acquainted with theparties--Melissa D---- and Beauman. Such at least is our opinion fromappearances, as Beauman is now here more than half his time.--You willundoubtedly be a guest. We had expected that you would have put in yourclaims, from your particular attention to the lady. She is a fine girl,Alonzo."

  "I shall never be a guest at Melissa's wedding," said Alonzo, as hehastily paced the room; "but I must once again see her before that eventtakes place, when I lose
her forever." The next day he repaired to herfather's. He enquired for Melissa; she was gone with a party to theshores of the sound, attended by Beauman. At evening they returned.Beauman and Alonzo addressed each other with much seeming cordiality."You have deceived us, Alonzo, said Melissa. We concluded you hadforgotten the road to this place."

  "Was not that a hasty conclusion?" replied Alonzo. "I think not, sheanswered, if your long absence should be construed into neglect. But wewill hear your excuse said she, smiling, by and by, and perhaps pardonyou." He thanked her for her condescension.

  The next morning Beauman set out for New-London. Alonzo observed that hetook a tender leave of Melissa, telling her, in a low voice, that heshould have the happiness of seeing her again within two or three weeks.After he was gone, as Melissa and Alonzo were sitting in a room alone,"Well, said she, am I to hear your excuses?"

  Alonzo. For what,