An Original Belle

Chapter XXIII. "My Friendship is Mine to Give."

Strahan's convalescence need not be dwelt upon, nor the subtle aid given by Marian through flowers, fruit, and occasional calls upon his mother.

These little kindnesses were tonics beyond the physician's skill, and he grew stronger daily. Mrs. Strahan believed that things were taking their natural course, and, with the delicacy of a lady, was content to welcome the young girl in a quiet, cordial manner. Merwyn tacitly accepted the mother's view, which she had not wholly concealed in the sick-room, and which he thought had been confirmed by Marian's manner and interest. With returning health Strahan's old sense of humor revived, and he often smiled and sighed over the misapprehension. Had he been fully aware of Marian's mood, he might have given his physician cause to look grave over an apparent return of fever.

In the reticence and delicacy natural to all the actors in this little drama, thoughts were unspoken, and events drifted on in accordance with the old relations. Merwyn's self-imposed duties of nurse became lighter, and he took much-needed rest. Strahan felt for him the strongest good-will and gratitude, but grew more and more puzzled about him. Apparently the convalescent was absolutely frank concerning himself. He spoke of his esteem and regard for Marian as he always had done; his deeper affection he never breathed to any one, although he believed the young girl was aware of it, and he did not in the least blame her that she had no power to give him more than friendship.

Of his military plans and hopes he spoke without reserve to Merwyn, but in return received little confidence. He could not doubt the faithful attendant who had virtually twice saved his life, but he soon found a barrier of impenetrable reserve, which did not yield to any manifestations of friendliness. Strahan at last came to believe that it veiled a deep, yet hopeless regard for Marian. This view, however, scarcely explained the situation, for he found his friend even more reticent in respect to the motives which kept him a civilian.

"I'd give six months' pay," said the young officer, on one occasion, "if we had you in our regiment, and I am satisfied that I could obtain a commission for you. You would be sure of rapid promotion. Indeed, with your wealth and influence you could secure a lieutenant-colonelcy in a new regiment by spring. Believe me, Merwyn, the place for us young fellows is at the front in these times. My blood's up,--what little I have left,--and I'm bound to see the scrimmage out. You have just the qualities to make a good officer. You could control and discipline men without bluster or undue harshness. We need such officers, for an awful lot of cads have obtained commissions."

Merwyn had walked to a window so that his friend could not see his face, and at last he replied, quietly and almost coldly: "There are some things, Strahan, in respect to which one cannot judge for another. I am as loyal as you are now, but I must aid the cause in my own way. I would prefer that you should not say anything more on this subject, for it is of no use. I have taken my course, and shall reveal it only by my action. There is one thing that I can do, and shall be very glad to do. I trust we are such good friends that you can accept of my offer. Your regiment has been depleted. New men would render it more effective and add to your chances of promotion. It will be some time before you are fit for active service. I can put you in the way of doing more than your brother-officers in the regiment, even though you are as pale as a ghost. Open a recruiting office near your country home again,--you can act at present through a sergeant,--and I will give you a check which will enable you to add to the government bounty so largely that you can soon get a lot of hardy country fellows. No one need know where the money comes from except ourselves."

Strahan laughed, and said: "It is useless for me to affect squeamishness in accepting favors from you at this late day. I believed you saved my life last summer, and now you are almost as haggard as I am from watching over me. I'll take your offer in good faith, as I believe you mean it. I won't pose as a self-sacrificing patriot only. I confess that I am ambitious. You fellows used to call me 'little Strahan.' You are all right now, but there are some who smile yet when my name is mentioned, and who regard my shoulder-straps as a joke. I've no doubt they are already laughing at the inglorious end of my military career. I propose to prove that I can be a soldier as well as some bigger and more bewhiskered men. I have other motives also;" and his thought was, "Marian may feel differently if I can win a colonel's eagles."

Merwyn surmised as much, but he only said, quietly: "Your motives are as good as most men's, and you have proved yourself a brave, efficient officer. That would be enough for me, had I not other motives also."

"Hang it all! I would tell you my motives if you would be equally frank."

"Since I cannot be, you must permit me to give other proofs of friendship. Nor do I expect, indeed I should be embarrassed by receiving, what I cannot return."

"You're an odd fish, Merwyn. Well, I have ample reason to give you my faith and loyalty, as I do. Your proposition has put new life into me already. I needn't spend idle weeks--"

"Hold on. One stipulation. Your physician must regulate all your actions. Remember that here, as at the front, the physician is, at times, autocrat."

Mervvyn called twice on Marian during his friend's convalescence, and could no longer complain of any lack of politeness. Indeed, her courtesy was slightly tinged with cordiality, and she took occasion to speak of her appreciation of his vigils at Strahan's side. Beyond this she showed no disposition towards friendliness. At the same, time, she could not even pretend to herself that she was indifferent. He piqued both her pride and her curiosity, for he made no further effort to reveal himself or to secure greater favor than she voluntarily bestowed. She believed that her father looked upon her course as an instance of feminine prejudice, of resentment prolonged unnaturally and capriciously,--that he was saying to himself, "A man would quarrel and have done with it after amends were made, but a woman--"

"He regards this as my flaw, my weakness, wherein I differ from him and his kind," she thought. "I can't help it. Circumstances have rendered it impossible for me to feel toward Mr. Merwyn as toward other men. I have thought the matter out and have taken my stand. If he wishes more than I now give he must come up to my ground, for I shall not go down to his."

She misunderstood her father. That sagacious gentleman said nothing, and quietly awaited developments.

It was a glad day for Arthur Strahan when, wrapped and muffled beyond all danger, he was driven, in a close carriage, to make an afternoon visit to Marian. She greeted him with a kindness that warmed his very soul, and even inspired hopes which he had, as yet, scarcely dared to entertain. Time sped by with all the old easy interchange of half-earnest nonsense. A deep chord of truth and affection vibrated through even jest and merry repartee. Yet, so profound are woman's intuitions in respect to some things, that, now she was face to face with him again, she feared, before an hour passed, that he could never be more to her than when she had given him loyal friendship in the vine-covered cottage in the country.

"By the way," he remarked, abruptly, "I suppose you never punished Merwyn as we both, at one time, felt that he deserved? He admits that he calls upon you quite frequently, and speaks of you in terms of strongest respect. You know I am his sincere, grateful friend henceforth. I don't pretend to understand him, but I trust him, and wish him well from the depths of my heart."

"I also wish him well," Marian remarked, quietly.

He looked at her doubtfully for a moment, then said, "Well, I suppose you have reasons for resentment, but I assure you he has changed very greatly."

"How do you know that, when you don't understand him?"

"I do know it," said the young fellow, earnestly. "Merwyn never was like other people. He is marked by ancestry; strong-willed, reticent on one side, proud and passionate on the other. My own mother was not more untiring and gentle with me than he, yet if I try to penetrate his reserve he becomes at once distant, and almost cold. When I thought he was seeking to amuse himself with you I felt like strangling him; now that I know he has a sincere respect for you, if not more, I have nothing against him. I wish he would join us in the field, and have said as much to him more than once. He has the means to raise a regiment himself, and there are few possessing more natural ability to transform raw recruits into soldiers."

"Why does he not join you in the field?" she asked, quickly, and there was a trace of indignation in her tones.

"I do not think he will ever speak of his reasons to any one. At least, he will not to me."

"Very well," she said; and there was significance in her cold, quiet tones.

"They result from no lack of loyalty," earnestly resumed Strahan, who felt that for some reason he was not succeeding as his friend's advocate. "He has generously increased my chances of promotion by giving me a large sum towards recruiting my regiment."

"After your hard experience, are you fully determined to go back?" she asked, with a brilliant smile. "Surely you have proved your courage, and, with your impaired health, you have a good reason not for leaving the task to stronger men."

"And take my place contentedly among the weaker ones in your estimation?" he added, flushing. "How could you suggest or think such a thing? Certainly I shall go back as soon as my physician permits, and I shall go to stay till the end, unless I am knocked over or disabled."

Her eyes flashed exultantly as she came swiftly to him. "Now you can understand me," she said, giving him her hand. "My friendship and honor are for men like you and Mr. Lane and Mr. Blauvelt, who offer all, and not for those who offer--money."

"By Jove, Miss Marian, you make me feel as if I could storm Richmond single-handed."

"Don't think I say this in any callous disregard of what may happen. God knows I do not; but in times like these my heart chooses friends among knightly men who voluntarily go to meet other men as brave. Don't let us talk any more about Mr. Merwyn. I shall always treat him politely, and I have gratefully acknowledged my indebtedness for his care of you. He understands me, and will give me no opportunity to do as you suggested, were I so inclined. His conversation is that of a cultivated man, and as such I enjoy it; but there it all ends."

"But I don't feel that I have helped my friend in your good graces at all," protested Strahan, ruefully.

"Has he commissioned you to help him?" she asked, quickly.

"No, no, indeed. You don't know Merwyn, or you never would have asked that question."

"Well, I prefer as friends those whom I do know, who are not inshrouded in mystery or incased in reticence. No, Arthur Strahan, my friendship is mine to give, be it worth much or little. If he does not care enough for it to take the necessary risks, when the bare thought of shunning them makes you flush hotly, he cannot have it. All his wealth could not buy one smile from me. Now let all this end. I respect your loyalty to him, but I have my own standard, and shall abide by it;" and she introduced another topic.