The Bondage of Ballinger | Page 7

would remember how kind and gentle was Thomas, and her mind would go back swiftly to the old days when they were children, and to the time when he shielded her from all the simple griefs of childhood, and the gratitude for the past and the love of the present drove away all remonstrance and killed the words that rose in reproof.
It pleased her, even in moments of loneliness and fear, to know that Thomas had gained a reputation and a standing among wise men of books and letters; that he was sought out for the value of his opinions and for the extent of his knowledge; and when poets and romancists came to their rooms to talk with Thomas of his possessions, and to speak to him of the giants he had met in boyhood, her foolish little heart would swell with rapture, and she would wonder how so learned and great a man could have been attracted to so weak and insignificant a woman. Thomas Ballihger was not the first hero in this pleasant humbug of a world who has blossomed into greatness through the memory of some childish chivalrous deed or the magnified recollection of a sympathetic word. And, haplessly, all heroes, wife-made, do not have his gentleness and amiability to speak in extenuation of the delusion.
Again the restlessness of spirit stirred Thomas, and again he wearied of his environment, and the round of drudging duties. He said to Hannah: "Our life is monotonous and changeless, and we have no chance to know the world that is so beautiful. We are wasting ourselves and our opportunities. The city is so great, so sordid, so given over to the roar of commerce and the pursuit of money, that every noble impulse is crushed and every better feeling is repressed." He took Hannah's hand, just as he had taken it in the happy days of early love, and he smiled that same old persuasive, irresistible smile as he added: "Come, Hannah, let us renew our wedding journey. Thee will find how much of the old lover is left in me. Let us go to the South, where we can be young and foolish once more, where everything is new and everybody is strange, and where sweethearts, like thee and me, Hannah, find fresh inspiration for their love,"
Hannah listened rapturously, for she was still young and foolish, and she believed in Thomas and trusted in his great wisdom. And as the tears came to her eyes at the gentleness of his voice and the reminder of the old days she answered: "Let us go, Thomas" and then, with a little blush at her own boldness "let us go where there are no book-stores, dear."
So they journeyed southward, lingering now a week, now a month, in cities and towns, while Thomas, pursuing his trade, made money necessary not only for their expenses, but for the accumulation of literature. The beginning of the second winter found them in the loveliest of spots, the land of perpetual summer, a fair town, where the people lived in the laziness of dreamland, a land green with the palmetto and the magnolia, where the birds sang all the year, the roses bloomed perpetually, and the breezes languidly waved the moss on the old trees and barely stirred the ripple of the sparkling river. Here Thomas worked diligently and saved sums of money for the future, and here Hannah found the realization of her dreams of a honeymoon in the hours they spent together. It seemed to her that they had come at last into life and happiness that must never end, and great was her sorrow when one night, wandering home along the riverbank, Thomas said:
"Hannah, I have bought the tickets, we must go to-morrow. '
She clutched his arm nervously as she asked: "Why must we go to-morrow, or the next day? Where can we find so beautiful a home as this? We left behind us the ice and snow I dreaded, and the great cities that so displeased thee, and we have come here to find everything that speaks for the life we love. Why must we go?"
Thomas turned away his head and did not answer. She touched his arm again, and said, "Have we not been very happy, dear?"
"Yes, very happy, but..."
"There is no 'but' in my happiness, Thomas."
"I was going to say, Hannah, that you do not understand. In fact, you see you know I was going to say"
"Well, Thomas?"
He laughed, guiltily. Then he drew her toward him and kissed her. "I know I am asking thee to make a great sacrifice," he went on, falling into the speech she loved, "but if thee only knew how I have suffered here, thee would not blame me, Hannah."
"Suffered, Thomas?"
"Yes, suffered, dear heart. Has thee