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Samh 9.04.1342 22:00
The apartments exclusively devoted to Jeanilotta and Abaledina—the daughter and niece of Lieutenant Gillfillian, were peculiar in their construction and arrangement, the result of genuine taste and unsparing wealth. In the center was a parlor common to both, small but elegant and convenient in structure. One wall of the parlor was made of glass triangles with a rectangular glass door in the center that led to the upper balcony where they could look down on the street below.
A plush gray rug rivalling the richest velvet in beauty and softness was in the center of the dark gray rubber tile floor. Neon tube lights ran between some of the tiles and matched similar designs on the walls and between some of the triangular window frames. White, low, plush sofas and ottomans invited all entering to indolent and luxurious repose.
Next to the entry door opposite the windowed wall was an ornamented gray fireplace with tiny lights in blue and pink accenting it. Upon both side of the beautifully carved electric fireplace were two immense mirrors outlined in the neon lights. Over it was a viewscreen.
The remaining two walls that connected the wall with the fireplace to the windowed wall were identical in look. One each light gray wall were three black sliding panels. One panel led to a small private den with a miniature library, collections of curiosities, beautiful and rare pictures, writing tables, and easy chair unique to each girl’s style and preferences. The window in this room was made of two triangles that shared a side. Under that was a window-box filled with fragrant and treasured exotic plants, giving the dens the highest degree to tranquility and mental enjoyment.
The center sliding panel contained each girls’ bright, white bathroom with a vanity beneath a mirrored wall and large closet. On the other side of the bathroom, the last sliding panel concealed a sleeping room with a luxuriant queen-sized bed spread with silk and down comforters. Jeanilotta’s private room was decorated in yellow hues and Abaledina’s in violet. A sliding door on one wall of the bedroom allowed the girls direct access to their bathrooms.
It was to her bedroom Abaledina retreated after bringing Jeanilotta her requested seltzer and medicine. She bade her maid to retire, and afterward, as was frequently her custom, she prepared herself for bed and seated herself for an hour's calm reflection at the bathroom vanity. Her figure was slight, her features regular, slightly rounded and singularly expressive of ingenuous frankness, strong intellectual power, moral greatness, and childlike simplicity. Her eyes were blue and wore that clear, calm, confiding look, which it would be so difficult to betray. Her hair was a rich, silky chestnut-color, and hung over her fair neck in the simple, natural, wavy ringlets of childhood. Despite her cherubic face, twenty summers had dawned upon her. Inwardly, the circumstances through which she had already lived had produced in her a maturity of thought and feeling belonging to greater years.
As Abaledina re-entered her bedroom, she touched the button that closed the panel now open to the shared parlor, and it quickly concealed her from all intrusion. Then, climbing into her bed, she gazed long upon the yet unopened message from Eriath, as if by staring at it without opening she could discern its contents. At last, she clicked on it.
Now and then tears of sorrow flowed sadly over each pale cheek. Then she would wipe them and resume reading:
“Do you remember, dearest, the day of our betrothal—when you, a little angel of twelve years, knelt with me beside my parents and your only surviving one—as your father prayed for our happiness after we fulfilled his last dying wish? Through our long separation, I have been constant to our pledge. Not a thought, not a wish, not a dream of my soul has been given to another, and I have reveled in an excess bliss when anticipating the hour that will place the happiness of my whole future life in your keeping.”
“I have closed my course of study. I enter the world as a man. Permit my hand and heart to be my first offering at the shrine I have so long worshipped. I am confident that in your gentle bosom there is neither the will nor the power to destroy my long-cherished hopes. Tomorrow I shall be with you to receive your confirmation of my wishes to set a near date to marry.”
"Tomorrow" repeated she sadly, "so soon? Ah! Eriath, you know not what you ask.” With that, she pressed one small hand over her eyes as if to shutout the future.
At this moment, the panel to her room slide open, and her aunt stood in the entrance before her. Pointing to her com-tab and smiling in a way that those who did not know the woman would presume was sweet and artless, she said, "This is my apology for disturbing you at so late an hour. I have but this moment been able to peruse mine, and I see by your face that yours must have shared the same fate.”
Surprised and perplexed at how her aunt had discerned she had just read it, Abaledina replied, “Then you have received an intimation of—of—his intention to return?”
“And of his desire for the immediate consummation of your father's last command," continued Mrs. Gillfillian.
“My father did not command me," said Abaledina, gently but proudly.
“Pardon me, my dear," replied Mrs. Gillfillian almost condescendingly, “I only refer to your dying father’s last wish—your marriage to my son. Timidity, no doubt, prevents you from speaking with me freely, but you of course are faithful to your pledge and will appoint an early day for its fulfilment. My son expresses himself warmly."
During this speech, Abaledina's resumed her usual serenity.
“Eriath is far too noble, too generous, and too confiding to be willfully deceived by me,” she said. “I respect and admire him, but I do not love him. Without that, my hand would be a worthless bauble.”
“But your pledge to your father as he was breathing his last—you surely will redeem that?" asked Mrs. Gillfillian.
As a child," the noble girl continued fearlessly, "I loved my cousin Eriath more than anything else, but it was with a pure sister's love. Time and a deeper knowledge of my own nature have since revealed this to me. I am aware that within me there is a slumbering fountain to which he has never spoken. I must remain free of marriage until I find the man who can awaken true love in me."
A frown had gradually gathered over her aunt’s brow, and she began rubbing her fingers over it as the frown steeled. As soon as Abaledina finished, she shook her head and replastered a strained smile upon it.
“You must be concealing something from me,” she began sweetly. “Is there some other attachment? Do not fear. You can trust me with your secret, my love. You know I would be the last person to urge you to fulfill this promise, sacred though it be, if that were the case. You know I would support you even though Eriath's future happiness and his very life, may depend upon your fulfillment your promise to marry him. Come; trust your secret with me.”
“I have already explained my feelings to you,” said Abaledina, not for an instant thrown off her guard by this insinuating address. "You well know that I have no other lover. Nothing prevents my acceptance of Eriath's offer but my exalted idea of true love. I am done talking on this subject. I shall frankly express my feelings to Eriath tomorrow. I have the confidence in both him and his honor. I have no doubt that he will voluntarily relinquish my hand because the hand does not come with my heart.”
“And what if he is not disinterested as you seem to assume,” pressed the proud woman with narrowed eyes. “What if he refuses to release you from your promise?”
Abaledina started. She had not conceived a possibility of this. “Then I will gladly and without guilt rid myself of the attentions of a man, who is neither noble nor great and who instead has no love in his heart and does not understand the value of love. But I know him better than you. He will, at my request, delay it a year or two, and in the meantime—"
“Yes! In the meantime, what will happen?” angrily demanded her aunt.
“There can be but two results. I shall begin loving him and decide to be his bride, or I shall never love him and attain the age when my person and property will be independent of the control of my uncle. If the latter occurs, I will be my own person," replied Abaledina.
Mrs. Gillfillian was surprised and disconcerted. Abaledina could easily understand the shock. For the past eight years during her residence with them, she had been the pattern of submission and obedience. This was the first time she had ever tested her strength and firmness against her aunt.
A dark shadow of evil jealousy flitted across her aunt’s face so quickly, Abaledina thought perhaps it was the dim light playing tricks on her eyes. It was replaced with that seemingly sweet and artless smile that her aunt had used when she originally approached her.
Her aunt gracefully walked over to her, moved back the fair curls of her husband’s ward, and kissed her brow.
"Fear not,” she said almost lovingly, “all shall be as you wish. I could not find it in my heart to deny you anything. Eriath loves you so tenderly that you will not—you cannot resist the pleasure of returning it. Retire now, my love, and let him find fresh roses upon your cheeks tomorrow."
The young girl spent time reflecting in solitude when once again left alone, after her panel slid shut. She could love—she was conscious of it—yet she knew she never had loved. Further, she was certain that Eriath was not going to be the man who revealed to her that one great source of life's joy and bitterness. Her only distress came from having to break so noble a heart since he apparently believed himself to be in love with her.
“Tomorrow!" she again repeated slowly and sadly as she pressed into her soft pillow and tried to forget with her dreams the bitter waking reality of her situation.
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