PART II - CHAPTER IV

Tales for Fifteen

by James F. Cooper

PART II - CHAPTER IV, TALES FOR FIFTEEN by James F. Cooper
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NOTWITHSTANDING the earnest injunction that
Maria had given to Mr. Delafield to continue where
she left him, until her return, she expressed no
surprise at not finding him in the room. The
countenance of this young lady exhibited a droll
mixture of playful mirth and sadness; she glanced
her eyes once around the apartment, and perceiving
it was occupied only by her friend, she said,
laughing--

"Well, Charlotte, when is it to be? I think I retired
in very good season."

"Perhaps you did, Maria," returned the other,
without raising her face from the reflecting attitude
in which she stood--"I believe it is all very well."

"Well! you little philosopher--I should think it was
excellent--that--that is--if I were in your place. I
suspected this from the moment you met."

"What have you suspected, Maria?--what is it you
imagine has occurred?"

"What! why Seymour Delafield has been
stammering--then he looked doleful--then he
sighed--then he hemmed--then he said you were an
angel--nay, you need not look prudish, and affect to
deny it; he got as far as that before I left the
room--then he turned to see if I were not coming
back again to surprise him--then he fell on his
knees--then he stretched out his handsome hand--
it is too handsome for a man's hand!--and said take
it, take me, take my name, and take my three
hundred thousand dollars!--Now don't deny a
syllable of it till I tell your answer."

Charlotte smiled, and taking her work, quietly
seated herself at her table before she replied--

"You go through Cupid's exercise so dexterously,
Maria, one is led to suspect you have seen some
service."

"Not under such an officer, girl! Ah! Colonel
Delafield, or General--no, Field Marshal Delafield, is
an officer that might teach"--as Miss Osgood spoke
with short interruptions between her epithets, as if
in search of proper terms, she dwelt a moment on
the last word in such a manner as to give it a
particular emphasis--Charlotte started, more
perhaps from the manner than the expression, and
turning her glowing face towards her friend, she
cried involuntarily--

"Is it possible that you could have overheard--"

"What?"

"Nothing--what nonsense!"

"Let me tell you, Miss Prude, it is in such nonsense,
however, that the happiness or misery of us poor
sports of fortune, called women, in a great measure
blooms or fades--now that I call poetical!--but for
your answer: first you said--indeed, Mr. Delafield,
this is SO unexpected---though you knew well
enough what was coming--then you blushed as you
did a little while ago, and said I am so young--I--
am but poor seventeen--then he swore you were
seventy--no, no,--but he said you are old enough to
be his ruling star--his destiny--his idol--his object
of WORSHIP--ha! I do hit the right epithet now and
then. Well--then you said you had parents, as if the
poor man did not know that already, and that they
must be consulted; and he desired you to ask the
whole city--he defied them all to say aught against
him--he was regular at church--subscribed to the
widow's society, and the assembly; and in short,
was called a 'good' young man, even in Wall-
street."

"All this is very amusing, Maria--but--"

"It is all very true. Then he was pressing, and you
were coy, until finally he extorted your definitive
answer, which was--" Maria paused, and seemed to
be intensely studying the looks of the other--Miss
Henley smiled as she turned her placid, ingenuous
features to her gaze, and continued the
conversation by repeating,

"Which was?"

"NO; irretrievable--unanswerable--unalterable NO."

"I have not authorized you to suspect any part of
this rhapsody to be true--I have not said you were
right in a single particular."

"Excuse me, Miss Henley, you have said all, and
Seymour Delafield told me the same as we passed
each other at the street door."

"Is it possible!"

"It could not be otherwise. His mouth was shut, it
is true, and his tongue might have been in his
pocket, for any thing I know: but his eyes and his
head, his walk, and even his nose were downcast,
and spoke mortification. On the other hand, your
little body looks an inch higher, your eyes look
resolute, as much as to say, 'Avaunt, false one!
your whole appearance is that of determined denial,
mingled--"

"Mingled with what, trifler?"

"Mingled with a little secret, woman's pride, that
you have had an opportunity of showing your
absolute character."

"You know these feelings from experience, do you?"

"No child, my very nature is charity; if the request
had been made to me, I should have sent the
desponding youth to my father, and if he refused,
to my mother--"

"And if she refused?"

"Why then I should have said, two negatives make
an affirmative."

Charlotte laughed, and in this manner the serious
explanation which, between friends so intimate
might have been expected, was avoided. Maria, at
the same time, that she fell and manifested a deep
interest in the TETE-A-TETE that she had promoted,
always avoided any thing like a grave explanation,
and we have failed in giving the desired view of the
character of Miss Henley, if our readers deem it
probable that she would ever touch on the subject
voluntarily.

The winter passed by in the ordinary manner in
which other winters pass in this climate, being a
mixture of mild, delightful days, clear sky, and
invigorating sun, and of intense, cold, raw winds,
and snow storms. The two latter seemed to try the
constitution of poor George Morton to the utmost.
The severe cold that he took in his charitable
excursion lingered about him through the cold
months, and before the genial warmth of May
occurred to relieve him, his physicians pronounced
that his lungs were irremediably affected. During
the period of doubt and apprehension which
preceded the annunciation of this opinion, and of
distress and agony which succeeded it, the family
of Mr. Henley warmly sympathized in the feelings of
their neighbours. The long intimacy that had
existed between George and Charlotte and their
parents, removed all superfluous forms, and the
latter passed a great deal of her time with Mrs.
Morton, or by the side of the invalid. Her presence
gave him such manifest and lively pleasure, that it
would have been cruel to have denied him what the
other appeared to grant spontaneously. Charlotte
had gradually withdrawn herself from society as the
illness of George increased, and his danger became
more apparent; and at the expiration of the month
of April, she was seldom visible to those who are
called the world, with the exception of the
immediate connexions of her family, and her friend
Maria 0sgood. In the beginning of May both Mr.
Morton and his neighbour withdrew to their country
houses, and thus the retirement from the world and
the intercourse between the two families became
more complete.

Delafield had made one or two efforts to renew his
addresses to Charlotte, but finding them in every
instance firmly, though mildly rejected, he
endeavoured to discover such imperfections in the
object of his regard as might justify him in disliking
her. The more he reflected on her conduct, however,
the more he became sensible of the propriety and
simplicity of her deportment; and had not the
impression she had made on the young man
proceeded rather from the effect on his fancy, than
from having touched his heart, the consequences of
his conviction of her purity and truth might have
been more lasting and deplorable. As it was, his
heated imagination gradually ceased to glow with
the beauties of an image that was, however perfect
in itself, extravagantly coloured by his own youthful
imagination, and in time, if he thought at all of
Charlotte Henley, he thought of her as a beautiful
object, it is true, but as of one that brought
somewhat mortifying reflections along with it. This
might not have been manly or generous, perhaps,
but we believe it is the manner in nine cases out of
ten in which such sudden emotions expire,
especially if the ardour of the youth has
precipitated a declaration that the more chastened
feelings of the damsel are not yet prepared to
reciprocate. While the image of Charlotte was still
lingering in his mind, he was in the habit of visiting
Maria Osgood almost daily, to ask questions about
her, and perhaps with a secret expectation of their
meeting her at the house of her friend. The gay
trifling of Miss Osgood aided greatly both in cooling
his spleen and removing his melancholy, till in the
course of a month he even proceeded so far as to
make her the confidant of what she already knew,
though only by conjecture and inference. Delafield
at this time was so urgent, and secretly so
determined to prevail, in order that his pride if not
his affections might be soothed, that in an
unguarded moment he induced the inconsiderate
Maria to betray, we will not say the confidence of
her friend, but such facts as could only have come
to her knowledge by the intimacy of unaffected
association. If there were any thing to extenuate
this breach of decorum by Maria, it was the manner
in which it was effected. Miss Osgood had just
returned from one of her frequent visits to the villa
of Mr. Henley, when Delafield made his customary
morning call: the absence of Maria, and the object
of her visit, had been well known to him, and as it
was a time when he began to speak of Miss Henley
without much emotion, and but little love, he could
not avoid yielding so far to his pique as to express
himself as follows:

"So, Miss Maria, you have just returned from paying
another visit to your beautiful little friend without
any heart."

"My little friend without any heart! Of whom do you
speak? and what do you mean!"

"I speak of Miss Charlotte Henley, the nun,--she
who has all of heaven about her but its love--that
brilliant casket without its jewels--that woman--
yes, that YOUNG woman without any heart."

"Upon my word, sir, this is a very pretty poem you
have been reciting! but in my opinion, your
conclusion is wrong. As she refused to give you her
heart, it is the more probable that she has it yet in
that brilliant casket you speak of--"

"No--she never had one. She wants the greatest
charm that nature can give to a woman--a warm,
grateful, and affectionate heart."

"And pray, sir," said Maria, bending her eyes
inquisitively toward the youth, "if she want it, what
has she done with it!"

"She never had one, Miss Osgood. I will grant you
that she is lovely, exquisitely lovely! pure, gentle,
amiable, every epithet you may wish to apply, that
indicates nothing but acquired excellence: but as to
natural feelings, she is as cold as an icicle--in short
she is destitute of HEART--the thing of all others I
most prize in a woman, and for which I admire you
so much."

Maria laughed, but she coloured also. It had long
been obvious to herself, and to the world too, that
Delafield sought her society, now that he was not
admitted at Mr. Henley's, much more than that of
my other young woman in the city; but she thought
that she well understood the secret reason for this
preference, though the world might not. How
gratifying this speech was to the feelings of the
gay girl, the sequel of our tale must show. The
young man however did not judge her too
favourably, when he supposed her to possess those
kindred sensations that unite us with our fellow-
beings, and he might have added a good deal of
generosity to the catalogue of her virtues. After a
pause of a moment she replied--

"I suppose I must thank you, Delafield, for the
pretty compliment you have just paid me, but I am
so unused to this sort of thing, that I really feel as
bashful as sweet fifteen, though I am at mature
twenty."

"That is because you DO feel, Miss Osgood; I might
have said as much to Charlotte Henley without
exciting the least emotion in her, or of even
bringing one tinge of that bright blush over her
features which makes you look so handsome."

"Mercy! mercy! have mercy, I entreat you," cried
Maria, averting her face, "or I shall soon be as red
as the cook. But I cannot, I will not consent to hear
my friend traduced in such a manner; so far from
wanting feeling, Charlotte Henley is all heart. To
use your own language," she added, turning her
eyes towards him archly, "it is for her heart that I
most love her."

"You deceive yourself. Early attachment, and long
association, and your own generous, warm feelings
deceive you. She is accustomed to show gentle and
kind civilities to all around her, and you mistake
habit for affection."

"She is accustomed to do all that, I own; but to do
it in a manner that adds to its value by her simple
unaffected feelings. She is not, I must
acknowledge, like certain people of my
acquaintance, a bundle of tinder to take fire at
every spark that approaches, but she loves all she
should love, and I fear she loves one too well that
she should not love."

"Love one that she should not love?" cried
Delafield: "what, is her heart then engaged to
another! Is it possible that Miss Henley, the cold,
prudish Miss Henley, can indulge an improper
attachment after all?"

"Mr. Delafield," said Miss Osgood, gravely, "I am
not apt to betray what I ought to conceal, although
I am the giddy creature that I seem. But I have
spoken unguardedly, and must explain: in the first
place, I would not have you suppose that Charlotte
Henley and I talk of our hearts and our lovers to
each other, like two girls at a boarding school. If I
know that she has such a thing as a heart at all, it
is not from herself but from my own observation;
and as for lovers, though she may have had dozens
for any thing I know, to ME they are absolutely
strangers.--Don't interrupt me, I am not begging
one. After this explanation I will say, trusting,
Delafield entirely in your honour, which I do believe
you to possess in a high--"

"You may--you may," interrupted the young man
eagerly: "I will never betray your confidence--you
might trust yourself to my honour and good faith--"

"I wish you would not be bringing yourself and
myself constantly into the conversation," said the
lady, compressing her lips to conceal a smile; "we
are talking of Charlotte Henley, and of her only. She
was brought up in the daily habit of seeing much of
George Morton, who, I believe, even you will own
has a heart, for it will cost him his life."

"His life!"

"I fear so; nay, it is without hope. The cold he took
in carrying the poor sufferer to the hospital last
winter has thrown him into a decline. I do believe
that Charlotte Henley is fond of him; but mind, I do
not say that she is in love--if appears to be less of
passion than of intense affection."

"Yes, such as she would feel for a brother."

"She has no brother. I do not intend to define the
passions: but I do believe that if he were to live
and offer himself, she would marry him, and make
him such a wife as any man might envy."

"What! do you think she loves him unasked, and
yet refuse me who begged her hand like her slave."

"It is not unasked; he has known her all her life--
has ever shown a preference for her--has been kind
to her and to all others in her presence--he has
long anticipated her wishes, in trifles, and--and--in
short, he has done just what he ought to do, to
gain her love."

"Then you think I erred in the manner in which I
made my advances?"

"Your advances, as you call them, would have
succeeded with nine girls in ten, though not with
Miss Henley--besides, you are too late."

"Certainly not too late when no declaration had
been made by any other."

"I am not about to discuss the proprieties of
courtship with you, Mr. Delafield," cried Maria,
laughing and rising from her chair. "Come, let us
walk; it is a sin to shut ourselves up on such a
morning. The subject must now he changed and the
scene too."

He accepted her challenge, and they proceeded
through the streets together; but she evaded every
subsequent attempt he made to renew the
discourse. Perhaps she felt that she had gone too
far--perhaps there was something in it that was
painful to her own feelings.

The explanation, however, had a great tendency to
destroy the remains of what Delafield mistook for
love. Instead of having his affections seriously
engaged in a short intercourse with Miss Henley,
our readers may easily perceive that it was nothing
but his imagination that was excited, and which
had kept his brain filled with images still more
lovely than the original: but now that the wan
features of George Morton were constantly brought
into the picture by the side of the deity he had
worshipped, the contemplation of these fancied
beauties become hourly less pleasant, and in a
short time he ceased to dwell on the subject
altogether.

A consequence, however, grew out of his short-lived
inclination, that was as unlooked for by himself as
by the others interested in the result. He became
so much accustomed to the society of Maria
Osgood, that at length he fell it was necessary to
his comfort. To the surprise of the whole city, the
handsome, rich, witty, and accomplished Mr.
Seymour Delafield declared himself in form before
the spring had expired to one of the plain
daughters of Mr. Osgood, a man with a large family,
and but little money. Maria had a difficult task to
conceal the pleasure she felt, as she listened to,
not the passionate declaration of her admirer, but
to his warm solicitation that she would unite her
destinies to his own. She did conceal it, however,
and would only consent to receive his visits for a
time, on the condition that he was not to consider
her as at all engaged by the permission.