A Forgotten Hero | Page 9

to the friar, the Countess made answer, "It shall be
seen to, holy Father;" while the friar, with equal composure, as though
it were quite a matter of course, repeated to the Earl, "The Lady will
see to it, my Lord."
"Does she always answer him so?" demanded Clarice of Heliet, in an
astonished whisper. "Always," replied Heliet, with a sad smile. "But
surely," said Clarice, her amazement getting the better of her shyness,
"it must be very wanting in reverence from a dame to her baron!"
Clarice's ideas of wifely duty were of a very primitive kind. Unbounded
reverence, unreasoning obedience, and diligent care for the husband's
comfort and pleasure were the main items. As for love, in the sense in
which it is usually understood now, that was an item which simply
might come into the question, but it was not necessary by any means.
Parents, at that time, kept it out of the matter as much as possible, and
regarded it as more of an encumbrance than anything else.
"It is a very sad tale, Clarice," answered Heliet, in a low tone. "He
loves her, and would cherish her dearly if she would let him. But there
is not any love in her. When she was a young maid, almost a child, she
set her heart on being a nun, and I think she has never forgiven her

baron for being the innocent means of preventing her. I scarcely know
which of them is the more to be pitied."
"Oh, he, surely!" exclaimed Clarice.
"Nay, I am not so sure. God help those who are unloved! but, far more,
God help those who cannot love! I think she deserves the more
compassion of the two."
"May be," answered Clarice, slowly--her thoughts were running so fast
that her words came with hesitation. "But what shouldst thou say to one
that had outlived a sorrowful love, and now thought it a happy chance
that it had turned out contrary thereto?"
"It would depend upon how she had outlived it," responded Heliet,
gravely.
"I heard one say, not many days gone," remarked Clarice--not meaning
to let Heliet know from whom she had heard it--"that when she was
young she loved a squire of her father, which did let her from wedding
with him; and that now she was right thankful it so were, for he was
killed on the field, and left never a plack behind him, and she was far
better off, being now wed unto a gentleman of wealth and substance.
What shouldst thou say to that?"
"If it were one of any kin to thee I would as lief say nothing to it," was
Heliet's rather dry rejoinder.
"Nay, heed not that; I would fain know."
"Then I think the squire may have loved her, but so did she never him."
"In good sooth," said Clarice, "she told me she slept many a night on a
wet pillow."
"So have I seen a child that had broken his toy," replied Heliet, smiling.
Clarice saw pretty plainly that Heliet thought such a state of things was
not love at all.

"But how else can love be outlived?" she said.
"Love cannot. But sorrow may be."
"Some folks say love and sorrow be nigh the same."
"Nay, 'tis sin and sorrow that be nigh the same. All selfishness is sin,
and very much of what men do commonly call love is but pure
selfishness."
"Well, I never loved none yet," remarked Clarice.
"God have mercy on thee!" answered Heliet.
"Wherefore?" demanded Clarice, in surprise.
"Because," said Heliet, softly, "`he that loveth not knoweth not God,
for God is charity.'"
"Art thou destined for the cloister?" asked Clarice.
Only priests, monks, and nuns, in her eyes, had any business to talk
religiously, or might reasonably be expected to do so.
"I am destined to fulfil that which is God's will for me," was Heliet's
simple reply. "Whether that will be the cloister or no I have not yet
learned."
Clarice cogitated upon this reply while she ate stewed apples.
"Thou hast an odd name," she said, after a pause.
"What, Heliet?" asked its bearer, with a smile. "It is taken from the
name of the holy prophet Elye, [Elijah] of old time."
"Is it? But I mean the other."
"Ah, I love it not," said Heliet.

"No, it is very queer," replied Clarice, with an apologetic blush, "very
odd--Underdone!"
"Oh, but that is not my name," answered Heliet, quickly, with a little
laugh; "but it is quite as bad. It is Pride."
Clarice fancied she had heard the name before, but she could not
remember where.
"But why is it bad?" said she. "Then I reckon Mistress Underdone hath
been twice wed?"
"She hath," said Heliet, answering the last question first, as people