If there is any removable condition which interferes with your free entrance into and enjoyment of the social life around you,tell me,Ibeg of you,tell me what it is,and it shall be eliminated.Think it not strange,O my brother,that I thus venture to introduce myself into the hidden chambers of your life.I will never suffer myself to be frightened from the carrying out of any thought which promises to be of use to a fellow-mortal by a fear lest it should be considered "unfeminine."I can bear to be considered unfeminine,but I cannot endure to think of myself as inhuman.Can I help you,my brother'?
Believe me your most sincere well-wisher,LURIDA VINCENT.
Euthymia had carried off this letter and read it by herself.As she finished it,her feelings found expression in an old phrase of her grandmother's,which came up of itself,as such survivals of early days are apt to do,on great occasions.
"Well,I never!"
Then she loosened some button or string that was too tight,and went to the window for a breath of outdoor air.Then she began at the beginning and read the whole letter all over again.
What should she do about it?She could not let this young girl send a letter like that to a stranger of whose character little was known except by inference,--to a young man,who would consider it a most extraordinary advance on the part of the sender.She would have liked to tear it into a thousand pieces,but she had no right to treat it in that way.Lurida meant to send it the next morning,and in the mean time Euthymia had the night to think over what she should do about it.
There is nothing like the pillow for an oracle.There is no voice like that which breaks the silence--of the stagnant hours of the night with its sudden suggestions and luminous counsels.When Euthymia awoke in the morning,her course of action was as clear before her as if it bad been dictated by her guardian angel.She went straight over to the home of Lurida,who was just dressed for breakfast.
She was naturally a little surprised at this early visit.She was struck with the excited look of Euthymia,being herself quite calm,and contemplating her project with entire complacency.
Euthymia began,in tones that expressed deep anxiety.
"I have read your letter,my dear,and admired its spirit and force.
It is a fine letter,and does you great credit as an expression of the truest human feeling.But it must not be sent to Mr.Kirkwood.
If you were sixty years old,perhaps if you were fifty,it might be admissible to send it.But if you were forty,I should question its propriety;if you were thirty,I should veto it,and you are but a little more than twenty.How do you know that this stranger will not show your letter to anybody or everybody?How do you know that he will not send it to one of the gossiping journals like the 'Household Inquisitor'?But supposing he keeps it to himself,which is more than you have a right to expect,what opinion is he likely to form of a young lady who invades his privacy with such freedom?Ten to one he will think curiosity is at the bottom of it,--and,--come,don't be angry at me for suggesting it,--may there not be a little of that same motive mingled with the others?No,don't interrupt me quite yet;you do want to know whether your hypothesis is correct.You are full of the best and kindest feelings in the world,but your desire for knowledge is the ferment under them just now,perhaps more than you know."Lurida's pale cheeks flushed and whitened more than once while her friend was speaking.She loved her too sincerely and respected her intelligence too much to take offence at her advice,but she could not give up her humane and sisterly intentions merely from the fear of some awkward consequences to herself.She had persuaded herself that she was playing the part of a Protestant sister of charity,and that the fact of her not wearing the costume of these ministering angels made no difference in her relations to those who needed her aid.
"I cannot see your objections in the light in which they appear to you,"she said gravely."It seems to me that I give up everything when I hesitate to help a fellow-creature because I am a woman.I am not afraid to send this letter and take all the consequences.""Will you go with me to the doctor's,and let him read it in our presence?And will you agree to abide by his opinion,if it coincides with mine?"Lurida winced a little at this proposal."I don't quite like,"she said,"showing this letter to--to"she hesitated,but it had to come out--"to a man,that is,to another man than the one for whom it was intended."The neuter gender business had got a pretty damaging side-hit.
"Well,never mind about letting him read the letter.Will you go over to his house with me at noon,when he comes back after his morning visits,and have a talk over the whole matter with him?You know I have sometimes had to say must to you,Lurida,and now I say you must go to the doctor's with me and carry that letter."There was no resisting the potent monosyllable as the sweet but firm voice delivered it.At noon the two maidens rang at the doctor's door.The servant said he had been at the house after his morning visits,but found a hasty summons to Mr.Kirkwood,who had been taken suddenly ill and wished to see him at once.Was the illness dangerous?The servant-maid did n't know,but thought it was pretty bad,for Mr.Paul came in as white as a sheet,and talked all sorts of languages which she couldn't understand,and took on as if he thought Mr.Kirkwood was going to die right off.
And so the hazardous question about sending the letter was disposed of,at least for the present.
