Chapter XII

“Who buys a minute’s mirth, to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape, who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be stricken down?” —Shakespeare.

Next morning, as soon as he got an opportunity to speak with Mrs. Taine—(and he always made a point of letting her feel the honor of his confidences,) Mr. Smiles informed her that he had received a call from his Society to an important field of duty at Cincinnati, and caused that good woman no small amount of consternation by telling her that he should be compelled (though much against his wishes) to postpone his marriage with Hagar for at least a year on account of these labors and the meagreness of his revenues.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mrs. Taine, with a penetrating glance through the gold-rimmed spectacles, “Did you suppose for one moment that I had failed to provide for such a contingency? Listen: I have it plotted, mapped, and scheduled, as my agent says; that’s my habit with all I do. I have $2,000 in the house that I have been waiting to place in your hands. And now that you must make this trip, I will send for $2,000 more, and you shall take your wife with you. Oh! not a word, not a word—I won’t hear it. I’m an awful tyrant to those I love. Sit down and listen!” She was quite out of breath as she dropped into her chair, and seemed more than usually excited.

“You see, Dr. Taine,” said she, speaking with anxious haste, and clasping one of the young man’s hands in both her own, “with his usual wrong-headedness, said he thought the wedding should be a quiet family affair, and performed here at the house by himself. But I want it to take place in church—your church, I mean, with all the requisite surroundings, floral decorations and so forth, as dictated by good breeding. I want a brilliant choral service too—a regular stylish wedding, you know. Some people have reviled me and misrepresented me for my treatment of Hagar, and I mean to let them see by the wedding I give her how they have wronged and misjudged me.”

“My dear Madame,” said Mr. Smiles, concealing his amusement, and leaning towards her with a look of entreaty, “you are too good and generous. I could not allow you to waste your money in such a way upon us. I should prefer to have you send the sum such a service would cost, to one of the hospitals. My own tastes, as you well know, are opposed to everything like ostentation, and the public wedding which you unselfishly propose, would be entirely out of keeping with my character and calling. I trust, therefore, that you will let your bounty take another shape, and absolve me from such an ordeal.”

“But what will the friends of my family think?” asked Mrs. Taine, in a tone which told that her resolution had been sadly shaken by the parson’s few well chosen words.

“What will they think in any case?” He asked, significantly, but with a good-natured smile. “Some would doubtless say that our public wedding was for vulgar display, while others would contend with equal vehemence that a private ceremony is the result of vulgar parsimony. I should much prefer Dr. Taine to officiate: besides, it will please Hagar. And, moreover, why would it not be well since we cannot evade reproach as the world goes, to choose the course which is most congenial to ourselves?”

The magical effect of his reasoning was evidenced by the old lady’s reply:

“Well then, I won’t oppose you,” she said, with her characteristic little laugh, a sort of forced titter, “for it is entirely useless, I find. And besides, by having a quiet wedding, we shall keep all the more money for our European travels: I have given quite enough for the war, when you count the new taxes! Very well; that is settled—now let me proceed. No use thinking of crossing the ocean before April or May, and in the meantime you can give the society notice that you want leave for a few months; say, from May 1st: that will give them time to send somebody to relieve you. When shall we have the wedding?” She asked the last question suddenly as if the remainder of her plan depended on the reply.

“Without delay,” answered Mr. Smiles, “if I am to take Hagar with me, for my orders are to go to Cincinnati at the earliest possible moment.”

“Yes, if Hagar is agreeable: I will ask her.”

“I will answer for her—it will be all right.”

And it was even so: Hagar was not in the least opposed to a hasty marriage, but stipulated that one more day should be allowed her for indispensable preparations.

“This being Tuesday,” she said to her betrothed, who was holding her fast in his embrace, “let us have the ceremony on Thursday afternoon. I must go and fetch Josephine, you know. Will you come with me, Benjamin?” she concluded, with an arch look.

“Hagar,” he replied, “I do not think Mrs. Leigh will care to come and I hope you won’t urge her. You are quite right that Thursday will be better than to-morrow, and you might go and see Mrs. Leigh to-day. I, however, shall not have the pleasure of going with you, as I shall be detained by some important correspondence which I have already neglected too long. And, by the bye, dear Hagar, you might ask Mrs. Leigh, casually, you know, for the address of her husband: I’m anxious to communicate with him.”

“But why may I not urge Josephine to come?”

“Because I want you all to myself, you little rogue.”

“I believe you are jealous of her!”

“Well, it doesn’t signify so long as you are not,” he replied, laughingly. “So be off with you, and don’t forget your errand to obtain the address of Captain Leigh.”

A few minutes later Hagar drove over to Newberg, where she passed the day with her friend.

Though he had been subjected to several interruptions by his most assiduous hostess, Mr. Smiles completed his tasks before the short winter day had dropped its curtains in the west. He then seemed restless for Hagar’s return, and after walking to the gate and taking a long look down the road, he paced the avenue listening for the approach of her carriage wheels.

“Well, my darling, how did you find Mrs. Leigh?” he asked, as he helped her to alight.

“Lonely and sad enough. She is in a dreadful way about her husband—you know, he never came back to see her after he was kidnapped?”

“What can it mean? Of course you have invited her to come here on Thursday—and is she coming?”

“No; she said it would be impossible. She is oppressed by some great sorrow, I am sure. She tries to conceal it but it shows too plainly on her face. Ever since I left her that sad white face has haunted me. She seems to be quite desperate.”

“Poor woman!” exclaimed Mr. Smiles. “I was right, she remembers”—he said to himself.

“Hagar,” said he tenderly as they went along in the twilight, “can you realize that only this night and one more have to pass, and you will be my own?” Her eyes were on the ground and she made no reply.

“Now suppose,” he continued, watching her closely, “suppose that anything should happen to prevent our union?” She looked up suddenly, startled from her reverie.

“But nothing can!” she replied, simply.

“Nothing of the sort seems likely, I know. But, suppose (bearing in mind the uncertainties of life), that some unforeseen contingency should arise to prevent it?”

“It would kill me!” she replied, nestling more closely to his strong arm.

“Well then,” he went on, after kissing her to quiet her fears, “what if we are duly married and I always remain a poor missionary, as at present?”

“Poverty has no terrors for me,” she replied spiritedly; “I know how to work, and I am neither ashamed nor afraid to do so. Whether we have a cot or a mansion, I will always strive to give it the attractions of home for you.”

“But, if I should be driven and persecuted and we never have even a cot to call our own?”

“Why talk of such things? You will never be ‘driven’ or ‘persecuted,’ and a man of your talent and education can obtain whatever he wants in this great land. I don’t believe in talking about misfortune before it comes, and even then, I think, the least said about it, the better.”

“Ha! ha!” he cried merrily, “I only asked these questions to hear your sweet replies, and now I am satisfied. Even if I had to suffer martyrdom, would you wish to perish with me at the stake?”

“Indeed I would; I could not survive your loss for a day!”

“And all this for a poor unknown parson! Ah, well, Hagar, perhaps you might have done worse. Heaven knows! But now, tell me, did Mrs. Leigh give you her husband’s address?”

“Yes, it is Cairo, Illinois, at present, but he is going into Tennessee at once.”

Before he said good night, after a game of chess and some music, he informed Hagar that he must go into the city next day to communicate by telegraph with his superiors, and to attend to other urgent business.