The Inheritance by Louisa May Alcott
"I have strained my arm a little, Amy. That is all. I will retire if you please." And, with a quick step, she passed out.
A moment afterward, a servant entered, saying, "Miss Adelon has fainted in the hall, my lady." Amy, forgetting worries and pain, sprang up, and they all hastened out and found her pale and still upon the marble floor.
Lord Arthur raised her, saying, as he laid her on the couch, "We should have watched more carefully. She must have been suffering in silence all this time, and not by word or sigh has she betrayed it until she could bear no more. She does not yet seem conscious. We must have a doctor. Percy, hold the water to her lips. Why, where is he?"
"Gone for a surgeon, my lord. I told him I would go, but he said I was not fast enough, and he rode away at full speed," said the servant.
"You may go, Robert. This is like him. He would do as much for any poor and suffering creature in the meanest hut," said Arthur as he bent over Edith.
"If she were not young and pretty, I should doubt it, Arthur," said Lady Ida with an incredulous smile. "Few young men would."
"There are but few Lord Percys, Cousin Ida. This selfish world would be the better were there more. Ah, she is reviving. Bathe her temples, Amy. We will not move her till Doctor Morton comes."
A horse dashed by the window, and in a moment more, Lord Percy entered, saying, "I met the good doctor in the park, and he will be here immediately. Has she recovered?" He took the cold hand in his own and gently chafed it.
"I never can forgive myself for being so forgetful and unkind. 'Twas lifting me up from that dreadful rock hurt her arm, and how silently she suffered till she could bear no more. Dear Edith, do you know me?" said Amy as, with a faint sigh, Edith looked about her.
"Yes, love, you are safe. Do not tell them I am hurt. I can bear it till we are at home. This pain is easier to bear than Lady Ida's unkind words."
"She is not herself yet," said Amy as she bent fondly over her to hide the blush that Edith's unconscious words of Ida caused.
"Here is the doctor. Now all will go well," said Arthur as he shook the old man's hand and led him to the couch.
"What's all this?" said he. "You are pale, Lady Amy, and Miss Adelon fainting. What is the trouble, Lady Hamilton? I met my friend Lord Percy riding like a madman, and all I understood was that someone was saved and someone hurt."
Lord Percy, with a smile, now told him all that had occurred. "Ah, yes, a strain, and a pretty serious one in cause a swoon like this. She must be taken to her loom directly," said the doctor.
"My lord, do not trouble yourself," said Lady Ida as Lord Percy and Arthur raised her. "The servants can carry Edith."
"It were a poor return for all she has done to leave her to the care of servants now," replied Lord Percy with a look of calm surprise. "Light me, Arthur. I will follow." And, tenderly lifting her, he bore his easy burden up the stairs, and Lady Ida was left alone, for Amy and her mother followed them.
"By this one thing," thought she, "that girl has won a place here that I never dreamed she would. When my aunt stoops to one beneath her as she has tonight, I fear she will raise her higher still, and then I am undone. Lord Percy's admiration she has won by her brave deed today, and that may deepen into love, for she is very lovely, as I know too well. No, no, it shall never be. I'll send her friendless from this house before I will see her placed above me, even by my aunt." And with bitter and revengeful thoughts, the proud woman sought her room.
CHAPTER
V
SEVERAL DAYS PASSED ON, AND Amy sat beside and tended her friend with unwearied care till she was well again and could resume her quiet seat below, bearing no trace of her illness save a paler cheek and her arm supported by a sling. All kindly welcomed her, and all but Lady Ida showed how much they felt the grateful love they owed her for the brave deed she had done .mil the silent suffering she had borne. Lady Hamilton was as kind and friendly as so cold and proud a woman could be, while Amy and her brother strove by tender words and every kind attention in their power in make her feel how high a place she had won in their affection and regard. Though Lord Percy never spoke of it, his eye would often rest on the young girl's pale and tranquil face with a deep reverence and silent admiration of the brave heart that beat within her. In his manner towards her there was a gentle courtesy quite different from his calm and graceful ease with Lady Ida, who seemed to appropriate his conversation to herself and in return bestowed her most winning smiles and fascinating words. When she chose, no one could be more charming, gay, witty, beautiful, and brilliant. Few would guess how selfish and how cold a heart was hers, and Edith, happy in the love she had won, forgot all past unkindness and neglect and daily grew more beautiful and gay.
And thus things went till Lady Arlington and her son arrived, and preparations were made for a fete to be given in honor of Amy's birthday.
"Who was that lovely girl we passed on the lawn as we drove up?" asked Lord Arlington of his young host as they stood on the balcony, where they had assembled, as it was their custom, to watch the sunset and lay plans for tomorrow's pleasures.
"One of the gardener's daughters, I presume," said Lady Ida coldly.
"Hardly that, I think, begging your ladyship's pardon," he replied, "for though simply dressed, there was a graceful elegance about her that led me to suppose she was a visitor, and that was why I asked."
"Oh, then it must be Edith," said Amy. "Had she dark hair and lovely eyes?"
"Yes, very lovely, I assure you. She was a fascinating little object altogether as she stood gathering flowers by the lake. If all the statues in your park, Arthur, were like this one, it would soon be stripped. But who may this mysterious Edith be, if I might ask?"
"A poor Italian girl and Amy's governess," said Lady Ida with a haughty smile.
"Also the preserver of Lady Amy's life and a very beautiful and noble woman," said Lord Percy, who was leaning on the carved stone balustrade watching Edith as she came up through the garden.
"Ah, I forgot you are her chosen champion and wear her colors as a true knight should," said Lady Ida as she glanced at the flower he wore.
"This is Lady Amy's gift and a fitting emblem of its fair and gentle giver," he calmly answered, bowing null a smile to Amy. "But if Miss Adelon should need a champion, where could we find a better cause than in defending innocence and beauty from the dangers of an envious and cruel world? Ah, here she comes like Flora with her flowers," he added.
Edith came along the balcony and laid her well-filled basket at Amy's feet with a playful smile.
"I lay my humble gifts before your highness, queen of our tomorrow's fete, hoping they are worthy of your acceptance."
"How kind of you, dear Edith, to think of gathering them. We need so many garlands for tomorrow," said Amy. "Now sit here and rest while teaching me to weave the lovely wreaths you make with so much skill."
Young Hamilton stepped forward, saying, "Edith, my friend Lord Arlington has heard of your great deeds and longs to know my sister's dearest friend. This is Miss Adelon, Frederick."
With a deep blush at the bold look of admiration the young man gave her, she returned his bow and, kneeling on the cushion at Amy's feet, began to form a wreath while the conversation was resumed.
"What is the order of performances tomorrow, Arthur?" said Lady Ida as she placed a flower in her bosom.
"Our plan is this," he answered. "The tables for the villagers are to be spread in the park, where they shall drink to dear Amy's health till the ale gives out, and then a dance upon the green shall finish off the fete to them. In the evening we illuminate the grounds and welcome all our friends who choose to come. We will dance and sing, and those romantically disposed like Percy and myself can wander through the park and admire my taste in decorating sober rakes with colored lamps and turning night to day. This is mv plan, but if you can suggest any new and striking improvements, I beg you will."
"Why not have boats upon the lake? It would be delightful sailing there by t
"Queens' wishes are commands. I will give Robert orders that it may be so," said her brother as, with a playful bow, he hastened out.
"How beautiful and how becoming," cried Amy as she placed a wreath of pure white flowers on Edith's head. "Dear Ida, I have often asked you for a sketch. Take Edith as she is and I will never tease again."
"My book and pencils are not here, Amy, and I do not care to send for them," said her cousin coldly.
"They are here. Allow me to bring them to you, Lady Ida," said young Arlington as he took the book from a table just within the window.
"Thank you, but I am too tired now. Another time I will obey you, Amy."
"These flowers will be withered then and the wearer may be gone. Taken now, in this soft light, a lovely picture might be made. Can we not persuade you?" said Lord Percy, offering again the book.
"No, my lord, but why not take the sketch yourself? I know your talent, and if you like Italian faces, Edith's will just suit you," answered Lady Ida as she laid the book aside.
" 'Tis a most tempting offer. How can you resist?" said young Arlington. "I never cared for it before, but I would gladly be a painter now. You surely will not refuse?"
"Miss Adelon's consent should first be won, and then I will gladly give Lady Amy my best sketch of her friend," replied Lord Percy as he looked at Edith for permission.
"Another time, dear Amy, but not now, not here," pled Edith as she took the garland from her hair.
"Nay, you have called me queen, and as my subject I command you to submit. You see what a tyrant you have made me," said Amy as she replaced the wreath. "How shall she stand, my lord?"
"Kneel as she knelt before and go on weaving flowers, if it please your majesty. It was very natural and graceful," said Lord Percy as he placed the paper and began.
"With all your skill you cannot keep the blush, my lord," said young Arlington as he stood beside him watching Edith's crimsoned cheek, half hidden by her hair. "Should not the eyes be raised and turned toward vou?"
"She is timid and it were not kind to ask for more; for Lady Amy's sake alone has she consented, and we should respect her too much to give her pain for a picture's sake," replied Lord Percy, adding in a lower tone, "I can remember how the eyes should look."
Lady Ida heard it, and though trying to appear indifferent and careless, she thought she had never seen Edith look more beautiful than now, and in her jealous heart she could not bear to see Lord Percy look so long and earnestly upon her and hear Lord Arlington's whispered admiration of "the loveliest girl he had ever seen."
At length it was done and Lady Amy, as she looked, exclaimed, "Oh, thank you! You have caught her very look and made her as she really is, so beautiful and sweet. See, Edith, is it not like you?" '
"Your love, dear Amy, makes your friends fairer than they truly are, but if it pleases you, I shall be happy that it is done" was the gentle answer.
"I will reward you with another flower," said Amy as she took a bud from Edith's wreath and gave it to Lord Percy.
"He doubtless would prefer a copy of the picture, Amy. Painters like to keep all their successful efforts," said Lady Ida as she carelessly threw by the sketch she had been looking at.
"I can hardly hope for that, though I should like to place it with some other sketches I had made of all the virtues," he replied.
"What would Edith represent?" asked Lady Ida. "Purity?"
"Or Patience," he replied as he saw her meek eyes look reproachfully at Lady Ida, who seemed to lose no opportunity to hurt and try her gentle spirit.
"I have Lady Amy there as Innocence, and why not give her friend a place beside her, and I may venture to include you in the number, if you will honor me," tic added with a smile, seeing the frown on Lady Ida's face. And fearing he had offended her, he took a seat beside her, and she soon forgot both Edith and her anger in listening to the voice so musically sounding at her side. The picture was forgotten, but Lord Arlington, while watching the lovely model, had been captivated by her beauty, grace, and simple dignity and had resolved to win her if he could and forget her I nimble birth by surrounding her with all the charms of rank and wealth.
Young, thoughtless, and gay, he had been spoiled by the world. Now, selfish, passionate, discontented, and tired of the pleasures he had once enjoyed, he was more easily charmed by Edith's pure and gentle nature, for it was new. Therefore, he pursued this pleasing novelty as he did all things, careless of the pain he gave and bent on gaining what he sought. From the hour when he stood looking on as she knelt among the flowers with the rosy evening light upon her pure, pale face, she was ever before him, and he longed to win her more and more.
CHAPTER
VI
THE MORROW CAME, AND AMY' S seventeenth birthday was as bright and beautiful as she herself when crowned with flowers and leaning on her brother's arm. She bowed her thanks to the happy villagers, who waved their hats and drank to her health beneath the trees at the feast so bountifully spread for them.
"This is Edith's table. Come and see her wait upon the children. She never yields her place to anyone, and there she is surrounded by the little ones," said Arthur, pointing to her as she moved among them with a kind word and cheerful smile for all.
"How is your mother, little Jenny?" said Amy to a bright-eyed child, who dropped a curtsy as she answered.
"Almost well, your ladyship, though Father says we owe it all to dear Miss Adelon, who comes through wind and rain each day bringing fruit and wine to Mother and cheers her up by her sweet face and gentle words. She will not let us thank her for her great kindness, so will you tell how grateful we all feel and beg her not to come when she is ill, for often she looks pale and sad," said the child, forgetting her timidity in her earnest wish to show her gratitude and love for her kind friend.
"You can tell her that henceforth your mother will have other friends who will try to be as watchful and unwearied as herself, and she may rest from her silent acts of charity and let us learn of her. Now go and join your playmates, Jenny; we will remember you," said Lord Hamilton. As the child ran gaily off, he turned to his companions, saying, "Did you not tell me, Percy, that you had seen Edith cross the park several times quite early in the morning?"
"Yes. I fancied she was as fond of early rambles as myself and would have gladly borne her basket, which seemed often heavy when her arm was weak, but she seemed to avoid me and I would not annoy her by my presence," replied Lord Percy.
"We must not let her go alone, Amy," said her In iii her. "She is not strong and often does too much loi others, forgetful of herself. We will share her good works and she shall teach us how to win gratitude and love like little Jenny's. Now come to the lake and see the boats you ordered. They are ready for the evening"
Gaily passed the day, and, as sunset faded into twilight and the villagers were gone, a thousand lights gleamed forth among the drooping trees, and music sounded from the balconies as carriage after carriage lulled through the lighted park and left its gay burden on the lawn. Soon throughout the brilliant house and grounds sounded happy voices, and gay parties wandered by.
"Is it not beautiful?" said Amy, glancing round the flower-decked saloon as she stood beside Lord Percy, her partner in the dance. "I am so happy tonight. I fear I shall shock Mama and Lady Arlington by my undignified display of spirits. Ah, there comes Edith with Lord Arlington to join our set. I am glad she has been asked by someone besides Arthur."
"Why?" said Lord Percy.
"Because she is often neglected by the friends who visit us and, loving her as I do, it grieves me to see others slight her because, though beautiful and good, she is poor. You do not feel so, I know, and will you dance with her?" said Amy timidly.
"I have asked her, and for three dances I shall have the pleasure of showing those who slight her that Lord Percy feels honored by the choice of one he respects and admires so sincerely as Miss Adelon," replied he with a smile.
"Well, dear Edith, we have a gay evening before us, have we not?" said Amy as her friend joined her, looking so beautiful and bright in her simple ball dress, with no ornaments save flowers in her hair and the rare loveliness of her own sweet face.
"After a hard struggle, I have won her for this dance," said Lord Arlington gaily, "but some troublesome person has engaged her for the three next, and if he will not yield, why, I must live on hope till then."
"The troublesome person will not yield on any account," replied Lord Percy with a smile, "unless Miss Adelon prefers a gayer partner than myself."
"I beg your pardon, Percy," said Lord Arlington, laughing, "but it was provoking when I had promised myself the pleasure of Miss Adelon's hand for as many dances as she chooses to honor me with it. But there is the music; we begin."
"Frederick is very attentive to that Miss Adelon," said Lady Arlington to Lady Hamilton as they sat watching the gay scene before them. "I think you told me she was wellborn, though poor."
"Yes, Edith is of good birth, though there is a mystery about her parents that has never been explained. She is so lovely that no doubt she will soon win a home for herself. Till then I consider her my charge."
"She does not visit with you, I believe," said Lady Arlington, who felt curious to know why she had nevcr seen Edith before, though she often visited Lady Hamilton.
"She will in the future go wherever Amy goes. She has been her teacher for many years, and by her virtue and fidelity has won a place in all our hearts. Amy's education is now nearly finished, and Edith is to be provided for. She is beautiful and young, and in a home of her own will be far happier than here. I have told you of her courage in saving Amy. From that time I have looked upon her as a friend to whom I owe a debt that I never can repay and, as a small return for the precious life she saved, I shall do all I can to make her happy." Lady Hamilton spoke more kindly than usual, for where her children were concerned she felt deeply, and though she never showed how much she thought of it, Edith's fearless love for Amy had wakened in the mother's heart a new interest in the gentle orphan. She silently resolved to show her gratitude by placing Edith in a happy home of her own, and for this reason she gladly granted Amy's wish that Edith might be always with her. Edith's natural grace and refinement fitted her for any circle she might enter, and thus, though many wondered and some disapproved, Amy's lovely friend was with her wherever she might go.