A Day of Fate, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  THE SHINING TIDE

  As I was strenuously seeking to gain possession of my wits, so that Icould avail myself of any opportunity that offered, or could be made byadroit, prompt action, the stalwart and elderly Friend, who had seemedthus far one of the ministers of my impending fate, again took my handand said:

  "I hope thee'll forgive me for asking thee to conform to our ways, andnot think any rudeness was meant."

  "The grasp of your hand at once taught me that you were friendly aswell as a Friend," I replied.

  "We should not belie our name, truly. I fear thee did not enjoy oursilent meeting?"

  "You are mistaken, sir. It was just the meeting which, as a weary man,I needed."

  "I hope thee wasn't asleep?" he said, with a humorous twinkle in hishonest blue eyes.

  "You are quite mistaken again," I answered, smiling; but I should havebeen in a dilemma had he asked me if I had been dreaming.

  "Thee's a stranger in these parts," he continued, in a manner thatsuggested kindness rather than curiosity.

  "Possibly this is the day of my fate," I thought, "and this man thefather of my ideal woman." And I decided to angle with my utmost skillfor an invitation.

  "You are correct," I replied, "and I much regret that I have wanderedso far from my hotel, for I am not strong."

  "Well, thee may have good cause to be sorry, though we do our best; butif thee's willing to put up with homely fare and homely people, thee'swelcome to come home with us."

  Seeing eager acquiescence in my face, he continued, without giving metime to reply, "Here, mother, thee always provides enough for one more.We'll have a stranger within our gates to-day, perhaps."

  To my joy the Friend lady, with a face like a benediction, turned athis words. At the same moment a large, three-seated rockaway, with aruddy boy as driver, drew up against the adjacent horse-block, whilethe fair unknown, who had stood among a bevy of young Quakeresses likea tall lily among lesser flowers, came toward us holding a little girlby the hand. The family group was drawing together according to myprophetic fancy, and my heart beat thick and fast. Truly this was theday of fate!

  "Homely people" indeed! and what cared I for "fare" in the very hour ofdestiny!

  "Mother," he said, with his humorous twinkle, "I'm bent on makingamends to this stranger who seemed to have a drawing toward thy side ofthe house. Thee didn't give him any spiritual fare in themeeting-house, but I think thee'll do better by him at the farmhouse.When I tell thee that he is not well and a long way from home, thee'llgive him a welcome."

  "Indeed," said the old lady, taking my hand in her soft, plump palm,while her face fairly beamed with kindness; "it would be poor faiththat did not teach us our duty toward the stranger; and, if I mistakenot, thee'll change our duty into a pleasure."

  "Do not hope to entertain an angel," I said.

  "That's well," the old gentleman put in; "our dinner will be rather tooplain and substantial for angels' fare. I think thee'll be the betterfor it though."

  "I am the better already for your most unexpected kindness, which I nowgratefully accept as a stranger. I hope, however, that I may be able towin a more definite and personal regard;" and I handed the oldgentleman my card.

  "Richard Morton is thy name, then. I'll place thee beside Ruth Yocomb,my wife. Come, mother, we're keeping Friend Jones's team from theblock. My name is Thomas Yocomb. No, no, take the back seat by my wife.She may preach to thee a little going home. Drive on, Reuben," headded, as he and his two daughters stepped quickly in, "and give FriendJones a chance. This is Adah Yocomb, my daughter, and this is littleZillah. Mother thought that since the two names went together inScripture they ought to go together out of it, and I am the last man inthe world to go against the Scripture. That's Reuben Yocomb driving.Now thee knows all the family, and I hope thee don't feel as much of astranger as thee did;" and the hearty old man turned and beamed on mewith a goodwill that I felt to be as warm and genuine as the Junesunshine.

  "To be frank," I exclaimed, "I am at a loss to understand yourkindness. In the city we are suspicious of strangers and stand alooffrom them; but you treat me as if I had brought a cordial letter ofintroduction from one you esteemed highly."

  "So thee has, so thee has; only the letter came before thee did. 'Benot forgetful to entertain strangers'--that's the way it reads, doesn'tit, mother?"

  "Moreover, Richard Morton," his wife added, "thee has voluntarily comeamong us, and sat down with us for a quiet hour. Little claim to thefaith of Abraham could we have should we let thee wander off to get thydinner with the birds in the woods, for the village is miles away."

  "Mother'll make amends to thee for the silent meeting," said Mr.Yocomb, looking around with an impressive nod.

  "I trust she will," I replied. "I wanted to hear her preach. It was herkindly face that led to my blunder, for it so attracted me from myperch of observation on the wall that I acted on my impulse andfollowed her into the meeting-house, feeling in advance that I hadfound a friend."

  "Well, I guess thee has, one of the old school," laughed her husband.

  The daughter, Adah, turned and looked at me, while she smiledapprovingly. Oh, blessed day of destiny! When did dream and reality sokeep pace before? Was I not dreaming still, and imagining everything tosuit my own fancy? When would the perverse world begin to assert itself?

  Sitting just before me, on the next seat, so that I could often see thesame perfect profile, was the maiden that I had already wooed and wonin fancy. Though she was so near and in the full sunlight, I coulddetect no cloudiness in her exquisite complexion, nor discover a faultin her rounded form. The slope of her shoulders was grace itself. Shedid not lean back weakly or languidly, but sat erect, with a quiet,easy poise of vigor and health. Her smile was frank and friendly, andyet not as enchanting as I expected. It was an affair of facial musclesrather than the lighting up of the entire visage. Nor did her fullface--now that my confusion had passed away and I was capable of closeobservation--give the same vivid impression of beauty made by herprofile. It was pretty, very pretty, but for some reasonsdisappointing. Then I smiled at my half-conscious criticism, andthought, "You have imagined a creature of unearthly perfection, andexpect your impossible ideal to be realized. Were she all that you havedreamed, she would be much too fine for an ordinary mortal likeyourself. In her rich, unperverted womanly nature you will find thebeauty that will outlast that of form and feature."

  "I fear thee found our silent meeting long and tedious," said Mrs.Yocomb, deprecatingly.

  "I assure you I did not," I replied, "though I hoped you would have amessage for us."

  "It was not given to me," she said meekly. Then she added, "Those notused to our ways are troubled, perhaps, with wandering thoughts duringthese silent hours."

  "I was not to-day," I replied with bowed head; "I found a subject thatheld mine."

  "I'm glad," she said, her face kindling with pleasure. "May I ask thenature of the truth that held thy meditations?"

  "Perhaps I will tell you some time," I answered hesitatingly; thenadded reverently, "It was of a very sacred nature."

  "Thee's right," she said, gravely. "Far be it from me to wish to lookcuriously upon thy soul's communion."

  For a moment I felt guilty that I should have so misled her, butreassured myself with the thought, "That which I dwelt upon was assacred to me as my mother's memory."

  I changed the subject, and sought by every means in my power to leadher to talk, for thus, I thought, I shall learn the full source ofwomanly life from which the peerless daughter has drawn her nature.

  The kind old lady needed but little incentive. Her thoughts flowedfreely in a quaint, sweet vernacular that savored of the meeting-house.I was both interested and charmed, and as we rode at a quiet jogthrough the June sunlight felt that I was in the hands of a kindly fatethat, in accordance with the old fairy tales, was bent on giving onepoor mortal all he desired.

  At last, on a hillside sloping to the south, I s
aw the farmhouse of mydream. Two tall honey locusts stood like faithful guardians on eachside of the porch. An elm drooped over the farther end of the piazza.In the dooryard the foliage of two great silver poplar or aspen treesfluttered perpetually with its light sheen. A maple towered high behindthe house, and a brook that ran not far away was shadowed by a weepingwillow. Other trees were grouped here and there as if Nature hadplanted them, and up one a wild grape-vine clambered, its unobtrusiveblossoms filling the air with a fragrance more delicious even than thatof the old-fashioned roses which abounded everywhere.

  "Was there ever a sweeter nook?" I thought as I stepped out on the widehorse-block and gave my hand to one who seemed the beautifulculmination of the scene.

  Miss Adah needed but little assistance to alight, but she took my handin hers, which she had ungloved as she approached her home. It was hermother's soft, plump hand, but unmarked, as yet, by years of toil. Iforgot we were such entire strangers, and under the impulse of my fancyclasped it a trifle warmly, at which she gave me a look of slightsurprise, thus suggesting that there was no occasion for the act.

  "You are mistaken," I mentally responded; "there is more occasion thanyou imagine; more than I may dare to tell you for a long time to come."

  A lady who had been sitting on the piazza disappeared within the house,and Adah followed her.

  "Now, mother," said Mr. Yocomb, "since thee did so little for friendMorton's spiritual man, see what thee can do for the temporal. I'lltake the high seat this time, and can tell thee beforehand thatthere'll be no silent meeting."

  "Father may seem to thee a little irreverent, but he doesn't mean tobe. It's his way," said his wife, with a smile. "If thee'll come withme I'll show thee to a room where thee can rest and prepare for dinner."

  I followed her through a wide hall to a stairway that changed its mindwhen half-way up and turned in an opposite direction. "It suggests thefreedom and unconventionality of this home," I thought, yielding to mymood to idealize everything.

  "This is thy room so long as thee'll be pleased to stay with us," shesaid, with a genial smile, and her ample form vanished from the doorway.

  I was glad to be alone. The shining tide of events was bearing mealmost too swiftly. "Can this be even the beginning of true love, sinceit runs so smoothly?" I queried. And yet it had all come about sosimply and naturally, and for everything there was such adequate causeand rational explanation, that I assured myself that I had reason forself-congratulation rather than wonder.

  Having seen such a maiden, it would be strange indeed if I had not beenstruck by her beauty. With an hour on my hands, and thoughts thatcalled no one master, it would have been stranger still if I had notbeen beguiled into a dream which, in my need, promised so much that Iwas now bent on its fulfilment. Kind Mr. and Mrs. Yocomb had butcarried out the teachings of their faith, and thus I was within thehome of one who, developing under the influences of such a mother andsuch surroundings, would have the power beyond most other women ofcreating another home. I naturally thought that here, in this lovelyand sheltered spot, and under just the conditions that existed, mightbe perfected the simple, natural flower of womanhood that thenecessities of my life and character required.

  I was too eager to prove my theories, and too strongly under thepresentiment that my hour of destiny had come, to rest, and so gladlywelcomed the tinkle of the dinner-bell.

  The apparent mistress of my fate had not diminished her unconsciouspower by exchanging her Sunday-morning costume for a light muslin, thatrevealed more of her white throat than the strict canons of her sectwould warrant perhaps, but none too much for maidenly modesty andartistic effect. Indeed, the gown harmonized with her somewhat worldlyhat. I regarded these tendencies as good omens, however, felicitatingmyself with the thought that while her Quaker antecedents would alwaysgive to her manner and garb a beautiful simplicity, they would nottrammel her taste with arbitrary custom. Though now more clearlysatisfied that the beauty of her full face by no means equalled that ofher profile, I was still far more than content with a perfection offeatures that sustained a rigorous scrutiny.

  "Richard Morton," said Mrs. Yocomb, "let me make thee acquainted withEmily Warren."

  I turned and bowed to a young woman, who seemed very colorless andunattractive to my brief glance, compared with the radiant creatureopposite me. It would appear that I made no very marked impression onher either, for she chatted with little Zillah, who sat beyond her, andwith Reuben across the table, making no effort to secure my attention.

  If Mrs. Yocomb's powers as a spiritual provider were indicated by thetable she had spread for us, the old meetinghouse should be crowdedevery Sunday, on the bare possibility that she might speak. From thehuge plate of roast-beef before her husband to the dainty dish of wildstrawberries on the sideboard, all was appetizing, and although it wasthe day of my destiny, I found myself making a hearty meal. Mybeautiful vis-a-vis evidently had no thoughts of destiny, and provedthat the rich blood which mantled her cheeks had an abundant andhealthful source. I liked that too. "There is no sentimental nonsenseabout her," I thought, "and her views of life will never be dyspeptic."

  I longed to hear her talk, and yet was pleased that she was notgarrulous. Her father evidently thought that this was his hour andopportunity, and he seasoned the ample repast with not a little homelywit and humor, in which his wife would sometimes join, and again curband deprecate.

  I began to grow disappointed that the daughter did not manifest some ofher mother's quaint and genial good sense, or some sparkle and piquancythat would correspond to her father's humor: but the few remarks shemade had reference chiefly to the people at the meeting, and vergedtoward small gossip.

  I broached several subjects which I thought might interest her, butcould obtain little other response than "Yes," with a faint risinginflection. After one of these unsuccessful attempts I detected aslight, peculiar smile on Miss Warren's face. It was a mischievouslight in her dark eyes more than anything else. As she met my puzzledlook it vanished instantly, and she turned away. Everything in mytraining and calling stimulated alertness, and I knew that smile was atmy expense. Why was she laughing at me? Had she, by an intuition,divined my attitude of mind? A plague on woman's intuitions! What manis safe a moment?

  But this could scarcely be, for the one toward whom my thoughts hadflown for the last three hours, and on whom I had bent glances that didher royal homage, was serenely unconscious of my interest, or elsesupremely indifferent to it. She did not seem unfriendly, and Iimagined that she harbored some curiosity in regard to me. My dress,manner, and some slight personal allusions secured far more attentionthan any abstract topic I could introduce. Her lips, however, were soexquisitely chiselled that they made, for the time, any utteranceagreeable, and suggested that only tasteful thoughts and words couldcome from them.

  "Now, mother," said Mr. Yocomb, leaning back in his chair afterfinishing a generous cup of coffee, "I feel inclined to be a goodChristian man. I have a broad charity for about every one excepteditors and politicians. I am a man of peace, and there can be no peacewhile these disturbers of the body politic thrive by setting people bythe ears. I don't disparage the fare, mother, that thee gives us at themeetinghouse, that is, when thee does give us any, but I do take myaffirmation that thee has prepared a gospel feast for us since we camehome that has refreshed my inner man. As long as I am in the body,roast-beef and like creature comforts are a means of grace to me. I amnow in a contented frame of mind, and am quite disposed to be amiable.Emily Warren, I can even tolerate thy music--nay, let me speak thetruth, I'd much like to hear some after my nap. Thee needn't shake thyhead at me, mother, I've caught thee listening, and if thee brings meup before the meeting, I'll tell on thee. Does thee realize, EmilyWarren, that thee is leading us out of the straight and narrow way?"

  "I would be glad to lead you out of a narrow way," she replied, in atone so quiet and yet so rich that I was inclined to believe I had notyet seen Miss Warren. Perhaps she saw that I was becoming conscio
us ofher existence, for I again detected the old mirthful light in her eyes.Was I or Mr. Yocomb's remark the cause?

  Who was Emily Warren anyway, and why must she be at the farmhouse at atime when I so earnestly wished "the coast clear?" The perverse worldat last was asserting its true self, and there was promise of adisturbance in my shining tide. Moreover, I was provoked that the oneremark of this Emily Warren had point to it, while my perfect flower ofwomanhood had revealed nothing definitely save a good appetite, andthat she had no premonitions that this was the day of her destiny.