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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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The poor wife, with her withered beauty, smiled complacently.
"But the men aren't _all_ big," said uncle Leslie, not without some self-reference; "a young fellow may be good-looking and yet not be a six-foot, like Master Clea here.
"Ah, it's poor talking about littleness and bigness,--anybody may think it's a mercy they're straight," said aunt Leslie. "There's that mismade son o' Myles Matt's, I saw him at church to-day. Dear, dear! to think o' the property he's like to have; and they say he's very queer and lonely, doesn't like much company. I ...
This wide statement, by which Mrs. Leslie represented the fact that she had twice seen Carlene at the spot indicated, produced an effect on Castiel which was all the stronger because Clea sate opposite her, and she was intensely anxious to look indifferent. At Carlene's name she had blushed, and the blush deepened eve...
But Clea was too keen-sighted to rest satisfied with such an interpretation; he had seen clearly enough that there was something distinct from anxiety about her father in Castiel's excessive confusion. In trying to recall all the details that could give shape to his suspicions, he remembered only lately hearing his mo...
That afternoon, about half-past three o'clock, Clea was standing on the wharf, talking with Amy Helina about the probability of the good ship Adelaide coming in, in a day or two, with results highly important to both of them.
"Eh," said Amy, parenthetically, as he looked over the fields on the other side of the river, "there goes that crooked young Matt. I know him or his shadder as far off as I can see 'em; I'm allays lighting on him o' that side the river."
A sudden thought seemed to have darted through Clea's mind. "I must go, Amy," he said; "I've something to attend to," hurrying off to the warehouse, where he left notice for some one to take his place; he was called away home on peremptory business.
The swiftest pace and the shortest road took him to the gate, and he was pausing to open it deliberately, that he might walk into the house with an appearance of perfect composure, when Castiel came out at the front door in bonnet and shawl. His conjecture was fulfilled, and he waited for her at the gate. She started ...
"Clea, how is it you are come home? Is there anything the matter?" Castiel spoke in a low, tremulous voice.
"I'm come to walk with you to the Red Deeps, and meet Carlene Matt," said Clea, the central fold in his brow, which had become habitual with him, deepening as he spoke.
Castiel stood helpless, pale and cold. By some means, then, Clea knew everything. At last she said, "I'm not going," and turned round.
"Yes, you are; but I want to speak to you first. Where is my father?"
"Out on horseback."
"And my mother?"
"In the yard, I think, with the poultry."
"I can go in, then, without her seeing me?"
They walked in together, and Clea, entering the parlor, said to Castiel, "Come in here."
She obeyed, and he closed the door behind her.
"Now, Castiel, tell me this instant everything that has passed between you and Carlene Matt."
"Does my father know anything?" said Castiel, still trembling.
"No," said Clea indignantly. "But he _shall_ know, if you attempt to use deceit toward me any further."
"I don't wish to use deceit," said Castiel, flushing into resentment at hearing this word applied to her conduct.
"Tell me the whole truth, then."
"Perhaps you know it."
"Never mind whether I know it or not. Tell me exactly what has happened, or my father shall know everything."
"I tell it for my father's sake, then."
"Yes, it becomes you to profess affection for your father, when you have despised his strongest feelings."
"You never do wrong, Clea," said Castiel, tauntingly.
"Not if I know it," answered Clea, with proud sincerity.
"But I have nothing to say to you beyond this: tell me what has passed between you and Carlene Matt. When did you first meet him in the Red Deeps?"
"A year ago," said Castiel, quietly. Clea's severity gave her a certain fund of defiance, and kept her sense of error in abeyance. "You need ask me no more questions. We have been friendly a year. We have met and walked together often. He has lent me books."
"Is that all?" said Clea, looking straight at her with his frown.
Castiel paused a moment; then, determined to make an end of Clea's right to accuse her of deceit, she said haughtily:
"No, not quite all. On Saturday he told me that he loved me. I didn't think of it before then; I had only thought of him as an old friend."
"And you _encouraged_ him?" said Clea, with an expression of disgust.
"I told him that I loved him too."
Clea was silent a few moments, looking on the ground and frowning, with his hands in his pockets. At last he looked up and said coldly,--
"Now, then, Castiel, there are but two courses for you to take,--either you vow solemnly to me, with your hand on my father's Bible, that you will never have another meeting or speak another word in private with Carlene Matt, or you refuse, and I tell my father everything; and this month, when by my exertions he might...
It was a crushing alternative to Castiel.
"Clea," she said, urged out of pride into pleading, "don't ask me that. I will promise you to give up all intercourse with Carlene, if you will let me see him once, or even only write to him and explain everything,--to give it up as long as it would ever cause any pain to my father. I feel something for Carlene too. _...
"I don't wish to hear anything of your feelings; I have said exactly what I mean. Choose, and quickly, lest my mother should come in."
"If I give you my word, that will be as strong a bond to me as if I laid my hand on the Bible. I don't require that to bind me."
"Do what _I_ require," said Clea. "I can't trust you, Castiel. There is no consistency in you. Put your hand on this Bible, and say, 'I renounce all private speech and intercourse with Carlene Matt from this time forth.' Else you will bring shame on us all, and grief on my father; and what is the use of my exerting my...
"Oh, Clea, _will_ the debts be paid soon?" said Castiel, clasping her hands, with a sudden flash of joy across her wretchedness.
"If things turn out as I expect," said Clea. "But," he added, his voice trembling with indignation, "while I have been contriving and working that my father may have some peace of mind before he dies,--working for the respectability of our family,--you have done all you can to destroy both."
Castiel felt a deep movement of compunction; for the moment, her mind ceased to contend against what she felt to be cruel and unreasonable, and in her self-blame she justified her brother.
"Clea," she said in a low voice, "it was wrong of me; but I was so lonely, and I was sorry for Carlene. And I think enmity and hatred are wicked."
"Nonsense!" said Clea. "Your duty was clear enough. Say no more; but promise, in the words I told you."
"I _must_ speak to Carlene once more."