Hesper, the Home-Spirit

Upon the fourth morning he was so much better, that after his bed was made, he proposed taking his pillow and lying down upon the sofa which was very comfortable. With the doctor’s consent Hesper had raised one window a little way, and thrown open the blinds to let in the sunshine and warm air. This seemed to refresh the invalid at once, and of his own accord he mentioned how very beautiful and fragrant the running roses and jessamines were, which peeped in at the window.

This encouraged Hesper, and upon the strength of it, she gathered a small bouquet, and placed it on his table. He glanced at it as she did so, and said in a pleasant tone —

“I see you are quite fond of flowers, Miss Hesper.”

“Yes sir,” she replied with a startled look, for these were the first words he had addressed to her since he entered the house – “I like them very well, though I do not make much talk about them.”

“That is just as it should be,” said Mr. Clyde. “People care very little for things which they are continually talking about. When a woman pretends to be in love, one can easily judge by her nonsensical prattle, as to the quality of her affections, though it takes some time to find it out.”

As he said this, there was the same expression to his countenance, which Hesper disliked so much, she felt uncomfortable, and hastened to get out of the room, but just as she was crossing the threshold, he called her back.

“Miss Hesper,” he said, “your brother informs me that he cannot be with me to-day; allow me therefore to ask the favor of a book, to wile away my time with.”

“I have only one that I think will interest you,” said Hesper, thoughtfully – “and that is ‘Brothers and Sisters,’ by Miss Bremer. Did you ever read it?”

“No,” he replied. “Please bring it, for I don’t care what it is, if it will only take up my mind.” She brought the book directly, for which he thanked her very courteously, and placed himself in a position to read. About half an hour afterwards, however, when she went in to give him his medicine, she found him lying there with the volume closed, in his hand.

“Don’t you find the book interesting?” she asked, timidly.

“Yes,” he replied, “but my head is weak, and my eyes get tired so soon, that I find an attempt to read is useless.”

Hesper turned quickly, as though she would speak, but she checked herself, and again proceeded towards the door. He had observed her movement however, and called after her.

“Hesper,” he said, “what was you about to remark?”

“Only sir,” she replied very meekly, “that if you wished, I would gladly read to you, as I am at leisure at present. But then I feared you would think me too officious.”

“Not at all,” he replied. “I should be very grateful, if you would read to me a while, for my mind is full of troublesome thoughts to-day. Only,” he added, as the unpleasant expression came again over his countenance – “sit where I cannot see you.”

Hesper took her chair and placed it a little way from the end of the sofa, where his head lay, so that he could not observe her. When she first commenced reading, her voice trembled a little, but she soon gained confidence, and as she became interested in the story, she quite forgot who she was reading to. She read on, chapter after chapter, for a long time, till suddenly Mr. Clyde interrupted her.

“Stop, my kind friend,” he said; “I had quite forgotten, while listening so intently, that you were mortal, and subject to weariness. I will trespass no farther upon your good will, at present, but must beg of you to favor me in a like manner, another time. Your kindness has been of great benefit to me, and I thank you, most sincerely.”

Hesper’s face brightened with a pleasant smile of satisfaction. “I am very glad,” she said, “if I have been of the least service, and shall be happy to read to you again, whenever you wish.” That very afternoon Mr. Clyde intimated to her, that if it would not be asking too much, he should be glad to hear a little more of the story. The next day he made the same request, and the next also, though now he was so much better that he was able to walk about the room, and even to go down into the yard among the flowers, which he greatly admired. He pleaded weariness, however, when he desired her to read, and so she continued till the book was finished. Towards the last, as they became better acquainted, he would sit beside her while she read, and no longer desired her to keep out of his sight.

At one such time, aunt Betsey happened in, and she regarded them with indignation and surprise. Her call was very short, and upon leaving she proceeded directly to aunt Nyna’s, in a state of great excitement, and informed her of what she had seen. She said she thought such things were scandalous, and ought to be attended to immediately, more especially as report said that Hesper was already engaged to Harry. She wondered, too, what Hesper’s mother could be thinking of, to allow such doings right before her eyes.

“But then,” she added, “Susan always was a strange woman, and always would be to the end of time,” therefore she advised aunt Nyna to go down that very night, and give Hesper “a real talking to.”

To her great disappointment, however, the good lady replied, that she didn’t see any harm in such things, and that she thought Hesper did perfectly right. She added still more to aunt Betsey’s vexation, by calling in Fred Greyson, who was at work in her garden, and sending him to ask Mose and Hesper, with Mr. Clyde, to tea, which invitation was very promptly accepted. At the end of three weeks, as Mr. Clyde’s health seemed to be fully re-established, he began to talk of leaving, to which proposition both Mose and Hesper listened with regret, for although he was often silent and reserved, yet there were hours when all his better nature shone forth, and then he seemed to Hesper a man whom any one might respect and admire. The day of his departure was not set, but he was awaiting the answer to a letter which would determine it. He proposed starting immediately for Europe, where he intended travelling for a few years, to restore his wasted energies, both of mind and body.

“But,” he added seriously, as they were conversing together concerning his plans – “I have met with so many crosses and disappointments in life, that I cannot expect much for the future. At best, the remainder of my days will be but a staying, and not a cheerful, actual existence.”

Shortly after this conversation Mr. Clyde went out with Mose, and left Hesper at her sewing. She became at length very weary with her monotonous toil; so she took her gipsey hat and strolled away into the woods beyond the old Rolling Mill. After wandering about among the hills and hollows for some time, gathering ferns and wild flowers, she struck at length into the deeply shaded path which led by the side of the brook. She continued musingly on her way, till she came to the great rock where she had talked with Mose, just before he went to sea. Here she seated herself, and gathering up the violets and tender green leaves which grew profusely about her, commenced forming them into a wreath. She became very much interested in her employment, but just as she was giving the finishing touches to her work, she heard the sound of footsteps, and looking along the green pathway, she beheld Mr. Clyde coming towards her. He did not smile when he saw her, and she thought he looked paler and more serious than ever.

“Ah, Hesper!” he said, “I am glad that I have found you at last, for I have received a letter, saying that I must be in the city to-night, therefore, in the course of an hour or so, I shall be on my way.”

“O, I am so sorry!” said Hesper, with the instinctive utterance of an innocent heart. She let the violet wreath fall upon her lap, and gazed up at him as he leaned silently against a tree. The changing light and shadow which came through the green leaved boughs, played fitfully over his countenance. He held his hat in his hand, and had brushed back the masses of dark hair from his high pale brow. His eyes were turned from her, yet she could see in them a look of unutterable sorrow, and around his mouth a quivering expression of anguish, as though he felt obliged to compress his lips firmly, to keep back a rush of contending emotions. She could not behold that expression unmoved. Her kindly heart beat in sympathy, and her eyes filled with tears. He turned and looked at her one moment, and then threw himself upon the grass beside her.

“Hesper, my sweet sister,” he said, “I cannot leave you without telling you how much I have to thank you for – more than you can realize in yourself – nay, nay, do not shrink from me like a frightened dove. I am not quite an ice-berg, though oftentimes my cold exterior would make you think so. Circumstances have made me what I am, and given me this mask of formality, which I wear before the world, where curious eyes are ever ready to prey upon a bleeding heart, but before the never failing charity of your pure soul, I dare appear as I am. Not only must I thank you for your kindly services during my sickness, but also for saving me from an utter disbelief in woman’s truth and goodness, for when a man loses his faith in woman, the brightest star in the heaven of his existence is quenched. Had you intruded in the least upon my feelings – had you by word, or look, or sign, overstepped the boundary which my jealous soul had placed for you, I should have hated you. But no: it was not thus, for ever gentle, helpful and retiring, you manifested your sympathy for my stricken heart in the simplest, most unobtrusive way, and always conducted towards me with that cheerful, pure-hearted simplicity, which is the greatest charm of the true woman. From this and from what I have learned of your past history, you have shown me, that however much I may have been disappointed, yet my cherished ideal of woman is not altogether false, and so I go forth to the world again, with the faint hope in my heart, that somewhere on the face of the earth, I may find that ideal, and make it the altar for my yearning affections.”

The tears streamed down Hesper’s cheeks as he spoke. “O, Mr. Clyde!” she said earnestly, “believe me, although there is so much of deception in the worlds that you will find many, many women much better than my own poor self. There are many pure and faithful hearts filled with a never failing fountain of affection, scattered up and down in the world, but you will find that they scarce ever beat beneath silken garments and glancing jewels. Look for true love rather among those who serve humbly and suffer long, for the heart grows tender and truthful under the discipline of sorrow. I have not lived long in the world, but I have seen enough of it to know that.”

“You are right, good angel,” said Mr. Clyde, as he regarded her with an earnest, sorrowful look. “What I could not learn through years of varied experience, has come to you through your own intuitions, and now your speak it to my shame. I know myself, now, after the first feeling of bitterness has passed, that heretofore I have worshipped false deities, and laid my soul’s best offerings upon shrines wholly unworthy of them, but while the arrow of disappointment still rankles in my heart that thought can give me little consolation. Time alone can heal the wound, and teach me that indifference which shall turn my heart to stone.” “O no! no!” said Hesper, quickly, as she laid her hand upon his shoulder, and looked him earnestly in the face – “not to stone, for is there not much in the world to live for and enjoy, even though one particular affection cannot be gratified?”

Mr. Clyde shook his head seriously. “Put the question to your own heart,” he said. “An earnest, joyful love for the companion of your childhood, gladdens and inspires your whole being. You are sitting in the sunshine of a great hope, and your whole future is radiant with the golden hues which your own soul casts before you. Tell me, should these hopes be disappointed, should this light go out in darkness, would you turn unmoved to the world, and find much there, even then, to make you happy? If so, then you have not the tender, sympathizing nature, which I had ascribed to you.”

For the first time did it cross Hesper’s mind, that such a shadow might fall upon her pathway, and her deep sympathy for her friend made her feel how terrible it would be. She laid her hand for an instant upon her heart, while an expression of pain crossed her countenance. Then the cloud passed, and the calm sweet look returned again.

“I know,” she said frankly, “that I should not be indifferent. I know it would almost crush me to the earth, but I trust it would only be for a while, and when I arose again, my soul would be stronger and better for the trial. Mr. Clyde, the only sure refuge from any such sorrow, is to forget one’s self entirely, and live only for the sake of others. That is what I think I should do, and it would be my only chance of safety.”

For one moment Mr. Clyde held her clasped hands in his own, and looked searchingly into her face.

“I know, you good, true soul,” he said, “that you would do thus, for it is precisely the turn which such natures as yours would take, but it would be a hard task for me.”

“It is always easier to advise than to do,” replied Hesper, “and especially in such cases – but Mr. Clyde,” she added, with great earnestness, “I believe you have a nature equal to any such thing, and that the reason of your disappointment, is because God has something better in reserve for you, than a union with a vain, false-hearted woman.”

Her words seemed to have a powerful effect upon him, for he closed his eyes and compressed his lips firmly, while that same quivering expression of anguish which she had so often observed, played around them. It was but for a moment however, and then he started up suddenly.

“Hesper,” he said, “I must not tarry longer, for time flies rapidly. Let me bid you farewell here. I may never see you again, and therefore when I think of you, I want to picture you in my memory as you sit here, like a wood-nymph, with this back ground of moss-covered hills, and the spring violets blooming at your feet.”

He laid his hand upon her head, and gently smoothed away the tresses of soft, brown hair. “God grant,” he continued, “that the blight of wasted affection may never fall upon you, for of all the trials that rend the human heart, there are none which wound it so deeply as those which come through the avenues of the affections.” As he spoke, he bowed his head and imprinted a light kiss upon her forehead. A tear-drop fell upon her cheek, and she knew that his manly heart must be stirred with deep emotions, or it would never manifest itself thus. She glanced up at him timidly. He clasped her hand warmly in his own for a moment, then he suddenly dropped it – took the little violet wreath from her lap, and without casting one backward glance, hastened along the green pathway.

Hesper was bewildered by her feelings. She could not understand herself, and yielding to her motions, she laid her face upon the mossy hill-side and wept like a child. She did not know before, how much she cared for Mr. Clyde, but now it seemed as though one, dear as a brother, was taken from her. Musing deeply upon “life’s mysterious destinies,” she wandered slowly along the wood-path, and then, not wishing to meet him again, she took her way across the hills to the cottage of aunt Nyna.