Moreover,in his changed mood he again began to chafe irritably at Ida's associations.She herself had been thoroughly redeemed in an artistic point of view,and it was his nature to look at things in this light.While he shuddered at her terrible purpose he recognized the high,strong spirit which in it perversion and wrong had rendered the deed possible,and her dark design made a grand and sombre background against which the maiden he had sketched that morning was all the more luminous.Hitherto everything connected with her change of character had been not only conventional,but had appealed to his aesthetic temperament as singularly beautiful.
The quaint garden with its flowers,brook,and allegorical tree were associations that harmonized with Ida's loveliness,while Mr.Eltinge,who had rendered such an immeasurable service to them both,realized his best ideal of dignified and venerable age.
But when he compared her spiritual father with the man she expected that night,he found his whole nature becoming full of irritable protest and dissatisfaction.
"This morning,"he muttered,"she appeared capable of realizing a poet's dreams,but already I see the hard and prosaic conditions of her lot dwarfing her growth and throwing their grotesque shadows across her beauty.What can she do while inseparable from such a father and mother?The more unlike them she becomes the more hideous they will appear.Mrs.Mayhew is essentially lacking in womanly delicacy,and mere coarseness is more tolerable than fashionable,veneered vulgarity.Mr.Mayhew is a spiritless wretch whose only protest against his wife's overbearance and indifference has been intoxication.Linked on either side to so much deformity,what chance has the daughter unless she escapes from them and develops a separate life?But are not the ties of nature too close to permit such escape,and would it not be wrong to seek it?It certainly would not be Christian,and I am confident Mr.Eltinge would not advise it.Her lot is indeed a cruel one.No wonder she clings to Mr.Eltinge and the garden,and that the outside world seems full of thorns and thistles.Well,I pity her from the depths of my heart,and cannot see how she will solve the harsh problem of her life.I imagine she will soon become discouraged and seek by marriage to obliterate her present ties as far as possible."Having reached this unsatisfactory conclusion he threw his sketch impatiently aside and went down to the piazza.Ida and her mother were already there,for it was about time for arrivals from the earlier train.Van Berg felt almost sure that Ida must have been aware that he was standing near her,but she exhibited no consciousness of his presence.When a little later they met in promenade she bowed politely but absently,and in a way that would lead any who were observing them to think that he was not in her thoughts.So he was led to believe himself,but Miss Burton,who was reading in one of the parlor windows,smiled and whispered to herself,"Well done."Ida was in hopes that her father would take the first opportunity of reaching the Lake House,and she was not disappointed.The telegram had flashed into his leaden-hued life that day like a meteor.Did it portend good or evil?Evil only,he feared,for it seemed to him that evil would ever be his portion.It was therefore with a vague sense of apprehension that he looked forward to meeting his wife and daughter.
As he emerged from the stage with the others he found Ida half-way down the steps to greet him.
"I'm so glad you've come!"she said in a low earnest voice,and she kissed him,not in the old formal way,as if it were the only proper thing to do,but as a daughter greeting her father.Then,before he could recover from his surprise,his light travelling bag was taken from him and the young girl's arm linked lovingly in his,and he led to Mrs.Mayhew,who also kissed him,but in a way,it must be admitted,that suggested a duty rather than a pleasure.
Her husband scarcely gave to her a glance,however,but kept his eyes fixed on his daughter.
"Ida is bewitched,"said Mr.Mayhew.
"And I hope you will find me bewitching,father,for I want as much of your society as you will give me during this visit."She tried to speak playfully and naturally,but tears were gathering in her eyes,for his expression of perplexity was singularly pathetic and full of the keenest reproach."O God,"she murmured,"what have I been that he should be speechless from surprise,when I merely greet him as a daughter should!"Van Berg turned hastily away,for he felt that scenes were coming,on which he had no right to look.There was nothing yet to indicate a wish on Ida's part to avoid inartistic associations,and deep in his heart he was compelled to admit that she had never appeared so supremely beautiful as when she looked love and welcome into the eyes of the smirched and disheartened man to whom nature gave the best right to claim these gifts.
"Come with me,father,"said Ida,trying to give him a reassuring smile,"and I will answer your scared and questioning glances in your room,"and he went with her as if walking in a dream.
Tears now gathered in Jennie Burton's eyes,but she smiled again as she thought,"Better done still,Ida Mayhew,and Mr.Van Berg,who is stalking away so rapidly yonder,is not the man I think him,if you have not now made your best and deepest impression on his heart.""Ida,"her father faltered,after they had reached the privacy of his room,"what does your telegram mean?What is important?""YOU are to me.O father,please,please forgive me,"and she put her arms around his neck and burst into a passion of tears.
The bewildered man began to tremble."Can it--can it be that my daughter has a heart?"he muttered.
"Yes,father,but it's broken because of my cruel treatment of you;I now hope better days are coming for us all."He held her away from him and looked into her face with a longing intensity that suggested a soul perishing for the lack of love and hope.
