I sat listening and reflecting for something like ten minutes. Steadily, from one side the room overhead to the other, went the noise of feet; now slowly, now with a quicker motion: and now with a sudden tramp, that sent the listeners blood with a start along its courses.
Wont you see him, doctor?
I did not answer at once, for I was in the dark as to what was best to be done. If I had known the origin of his trouble, I could have acted understandingly. As it was, any intrusion upon the young man might do harm rather than good.
He has asked to be let alone, I replied, and it may be best to let him alone. He says that he will come out right. Give him a little more time. Wait, at least, until to-morrow. Then, if there is no change, I will see him.
Still the mother urged. At last I said
Go to your son. Suggest to him a visit from me, and mark the effect.
I listened as she went up stairs. On entering his room, I noticed that he ceased walking. Soon came to my ears the murmur of voices, which rose to a sudden loudness on his part, and I distinctly heard the words:
Mother! you will drive me mad! If you talk of that, I will go from the house. I must be left alone!
Then all was silent. Soon Mrs. Wallingford came down. She looked even more distressed than when she left the room.
Im afraid it might do harm, she said doubtingly.
So am I. It will, I am sure, be best to let him have his way for the present. Something has disturbed him fearfully; but he is struggling hard for the mastery over himself, and you may be sure, madam, that he will gain it. Your son is a young man of no light stamp of character; and he will come out of this ordeal, as gold from the crucible.
You think so, Doctor?
She looked at me with a hopeful light in her troubled countenance.
I do, verily. So let your heart dwell in peace.
I was anxious to get back to my good Constance, and so, after a few more encouraging words for Mrs. Wallingford, I tried the storm again, and went through its shivering gusts, to my own home. There had been no calls in my absence, and so the prospect looked fair for a quiet eveningjust what I wanted; for the strange condition of Henry Wallingford, and the singular circumstance connected with the old Allen House, were things to be conned over with that second self, towards whom all thought turned and all interest converged as to a centre.
After exchanging wet outer garments and boots, for dressing gown and slippers; and darkness and storm for a pleasant fireside; my thoughts turned to the north-west chamber of the Allen House, and I said
I have seen something to-night that puzzled me.
What is that? inquired my wife, turning her mild eyes upon me.
You know the room in which old Captain Allen died?
Yes.
The chamber on the north-west corner, which, as far as we know, has been shut up ever since?
Yes, I remember your suspicion as to foul play on the part of Mrs. Allen, who, it is believed, has never visited the apartment since the Captains death.
Well, you will be surprised to hear that the shutters are unclosed, and lights burning in that chamber.
Now!
Yesor at least half an hour ago.
That is remarkable.
My wife looked puzzled.
And more remarkable stillI saw shadows moving on the walls, as of two or three persons in the room.
Something unusual has happened, said my wife.
Perhaps Mrs. Allen is dead.
This thought had not occurred to me. I turned it over for a few moments, and then remarked,
Hardly probablefor, in that case, I would have been summoned. No; it strikes me that some strangers are in the house; for I am certain that I saw a young girl come to the window and press her face close up to one of the panes, as if trying to penetrate the darkness.
Singular! said my wife, as if speaking to herself. Now, that explains, in part, something that I couldnt just make out yesterday. I was late in getting home from Aunt Elders you know. Well, as I came in view of that old house, I thought I saw a girl standing by the gate. An appearance so unusual, caused me to strain my eyes to make out the figure, but the twilight had fallen too deeply. While I still looked, the form disappeared; but, through an opening in the shrubbery, I caught another glimpse of it, as it vanished in the portico. I was going to speak of the incident, but other matters pushed it, till now, from my thoughts when you were at home.
Then my eyes did not deceive me, said I; your story corroborates mine. There is a young lady in the Allen House. But who is she? That is the question.
As we could not get beyond this question, we left the riddle for time to solve, and turned next to the singular state of mind into which young Henry Wallingford had fallen.
Well, said my wife, speaking with some emphasis, after I had told her of the case, I never imagined that he cared so much for the girl!
What girl? I inquired.
Why, Delia Floydthe silly fool! if I must speak so strongly.
Then he is really in love with Squire Floyds daughter?
It looks like it, if hes taking on as his mother says, answered my wife, with considerable feeling. And Delia will rue the day she turned from as true a man as Henry Wallingford.
Bless me, Constance! youve got deeper into this matter, than either his mother or me. Who has been initiating you into the love secrets of S?
This affair, returned my wife, has not passed into town talk, and will, I trust, be kept sacred by those who know the facts. I learned them from Mrs. Dean, the sister of Mrs. Floyd. The case stands thus: Henry is peculiar, shy, reserved, and rather silent. He goes but little into company, and has not the taking way with girls that renders some young men so popular. But his qualities are all of the sterling kindsuch as wear well, and grow brighter with usage. For more than a year past, he has shown a decided preference for Delia Floyd, and she has encouraged his attentions. Indeed, so far as I can learn from Mrs. Dean, the heart of her niece was deeply interested. But a lover of higher pretensions came, dazzling her mind with a more brilliant future.
Who? I inquired.
That dashing young fellow from New York, Judge Bigelows nephew.
Not Ralph Dewey?
Yes.
Foolish girl, to throw away a man for such an effigy! It will be a dark day that sees her wedded to him. But I will not believe in the possibility of such an event.
Well, to go on with my story, resumed Constance. Last evening, seeing, I suppose, that a dangerous rival was intruding, Henry made suit for the hand of Delia, and was rejected.
I understand the case better now, said I, speaking from a professional point of view.
Poor young man! I did not suppose it was in him to love any woman after that fashion, remarked Constance.
Your men of reserved exterior have often great depths of feeling, I remarked. Usually women are not drawn towards them; because they are attracted most readily by what meets the eye. If they would look deeper, they would commit fewer mistakes, like that which Delia Floyd has just committed.
CHAPTER VI
Delia Floyd was a girl of more than ordinary attractions, and it is not surprising that young Wallingford was drawn, fascinated, within the charmed circle of her influence. She was, by no means, the weak, vain, beautiful young woman, that the brief allusion I have made to her might naturally lead the reader to infer. I had possessed good opportunities for observing her, for our families were intimate, and she was frequently at our house. Her father had given her a good educationnot showy; but of the solid kind. She was fond of books, and better read, I think, in the literature of the day, than any other young lady in S. Her conversational powers were of a high order. Good sense, I had always given her credit for possessing; and I believed her capable of reading character correctly. She was the last one I should have regarded as being in danger of losing a heart to Ralph Dewey.