Jane Was Here (27 page)

Dear Lysander,

I could not come because of Mr. Graynier’s funeral. You must have heard the passing-bell toll all yesterday – Papa and Rebecca and I went up to the mansion to pay our respects. We were shocked to see him laid out – so shrunken and withered by the disease – which consumed him very quickly. They say the face shows peace upon the soul’s departure, but that cannot be true for a soul bound for damnation – Mr. Graynier’s lips were twisted as from horror, and there was an atmosphere of doom in the curtained room where he lay.

His two daughters received everyone in cool silence. I reckon they do not mourn him in their hearts, as he was rumored to be a neglectful father, showing little concern for their academic, moral, or religious education, and thus, although only 15 and 17 years of age, they are bored, enervated creatures. I believe Mr. Graynier bestowed all his affections on Ellis, whom we found sitting by himself in the corner. He had not bothered to don a cravat or jacket for propriety’s sake, and though there were many visitors who wished to pay their sympathies, his manner seemed to warn them away. The Negress housekeeper served refreshments with lowered eyes. Mr. Graynier did not emancipate her before dying, so I suppose her fate is now in the hands of the young master.

I did not like to see Ellis so morbidly aloof. I approached with hesitation, but when he glanced up I saw that I was welcome. I knelt before him and took his hands, praying that a little of the Spirit that I have received from your dear hands would now pass into Ellis for it would console him. We spoke in low voices, for the others were watching us curiously. I said I was sorry for the loss of his father, yet he could take comfort that Mr. Graynier was finally free from pain.

“His torment is over,” he agreed with a bitter smile. “But mine is just begun.” When I asked what he meant, he replied almost angrily, “Jane, what shall I do with a factory?”

I drew back, for I could smell strong spirits on his breath, and I thought it likely that he was not in a rational state. I told him that he must make acquaintance with his own strength – as his father had been strong, this must be his true inheritance – and then he could meet the task with conviction. This made him laugh outright. He said when I looked at him thus prettily, and spoke such a pile of nonsense, he couldn’t help believing it, and he would rather be my fool than remain a cynic, because then he might be capable of the manly exploits I imagined for him. I felt, once again, that any effort I might apply to Ellis’ reformation would have no positive issue. I think God has no preferment: He may abandon a beggar to the misery of shantytown, and also abandon a rich man to a dark and soulless existence, and it is all Justice, for I think the rich man’s is the greater poverty.

Today will be the royal procession and burial, and you will see the whole of Graynier done up properly for public grieving. However, I believe most will be thinking not of the deceased nor of the disposition of his soul but rather of what lies ahead for Graynier Glass with the young master in charge. There you may see praying in earnest! For everyone’s fortune is bound to the factory, whether for good or ill.

For myself, I muse on the vanity of life and the powerlessness of that powerful man before the great Tribunal beyond; and how rare, how beautiful, is the path you and I are called to follow.

My mind is clear and certain now. After the funeral I shall tell Uli that I will not be his wife.

You must, for your part, most delicately but without equivocation, make Rebecca understand that you are not looking to wed any woman. My fervent hope is that Uli will next ask for her hand, and she will accept him because you have made plain your preference for a life of chastity.

They will marry, and Papa will be relieved, and soon perhaps I may tell him of our sacred pact, and procure his blessing. Dearest, we say we strive for purity, yet there is nothing pure about our deceit. I long for the day when we no longer hide or dissemble, but instead live by our truth openly. When I looked upon Mr. Graynier’s face in his coffin yesterday, I felt I knew death’s most urgent instruction: to live in truth, from this time on, even if only a minute of life remains.

Your loving
Jane

Dear Lysander,

Forgive me for not coming to Eden this morning. Rebecca has been very dispirited and dependent on my company since you asked her not to visit anymore. Papa was quick to condemn you but in private he told me that she is proud and disingenuous and will stubbornly fancy a connexion where none exists, for which her lot must always be disappointment. I do believe she was more in love with you than we knew. (Adding to her woe was the news that Uli Haff was accepted by her friend Mabel – they are to be married in a month’s time.)

I have been distracting Rebecca with gossip, for every village maiden is in a fever of conjecture, wondering when – and whom!

Ellis Graynier will marry, now that he has taken command of the factory and will doubtless want to present a more mature appearance to the community. I do think that the gossipers presume a haste that he does not himself feel, and that it will be a year – or many! – before he considers matrimony. But I suppose the girls of Graynier need a topic to match their high spirits in this lovely warm weather: thus rumors flower most pungently with the lilacs. Rebecca has allowed this topic to revive her natural energy, and by tomorrow I warrant she will be back to visiting friends and showing off her new hat on the avenue in case Ellis should drive by. He will probably not – he is working long hours with my father and Mr. Haff to learn the business of glass.

Papa does not speak to me much since I refused Mr. Haff. I can tell he is not angry so much as embarrassed, and worried on my account. The rest of the village, of course, believes me either insane or conceited or both. It is true that I hold myself high, though to my mind I am justified, having been surrounded by ignorance and prejudice for twenty years. I blush to realize how ignorant I myself was, for all my airs and learning, before you came to Graynier, my love.

I shall be there to greet you in the Garden of Eden at half past three!

Your constant
Jane

Beloved,

I can no longer come to Eden – all eyes follow me – everywhere – daily streams of visitors to congratulate me – must trust Widow S. to bring this note – hoping she is ever our friend – have asked her to call again tomorrow for a longer letter – no matter what you hear about me, presume nothing, do nothing, until I write next –

Dear Lysander,

I pray my emotions, which are very turbulent, do not prevent me from writing with clarity, for there is nothing I dread more than your misunderstanding me, which might destroy your faith in me and in our mission together.

Everything, as you know, has changed. Yet nothing that truly matters has changed. My mortal heart and eternal soul are ever yours.

I was as astonished as anyone at Ellis’ proposal. When the words left his lips, I recoiled so conspicuously that he could not miss it. We were alone, as my father had arranged it, Papa knowing as I did not what was to transpire (Ellis spoke to him privately the day before, in his manager’s office). I stammered my lines, so often delivered to Mr. Haff, thanking him in all humility for extending such an honor, after which I requested some time to ponder my reply. All the while, images rushed into my mind: of myself before the altar pledging my existence to this arrogant libertine – of a life sentenced to the Graynier mansion – where no echo of God was ever heard – the vapid company of his sisters – and above all, a world of terrible emptiness, where Lysander once breathed.

Ellis did not care that I showed my aversion. Rather he seemed animated by it. I will describe his aspect without exaggeration – eyes like a hound’s, when the game has burst from cover.

I fear he is dangerous.

More shocking still is that my father should force me to accept Ellis, when Papa has always championed my independence. He does not even permit discussion, but tells me sharply that ever since my rejection of Uli he no longer trusts me to recognize where my best interests lie and therefore he must decide this matter for me.

Of course everyone is amazed that Ellis Graynier would choose a bride of lesser station and no fortune. I am stared at like a bauble in a shop. Yes, it may be beautiful, but the low price tells the tale. What can he want with a paste diamond?

His sisters, it must be said, have been perfectly cordial, and perhaps their excitement is genuine, since in that dreary house any extra soul would enliven their days. They tell me how Ellis has changed, how deeply he must care for me to have achieved such a transformation of character (they freely admit his past roguery), how soberly he now shoulders his responsibilities, with the vigor of one inspired by love.

I do not believe he loves me. He hunts me.

And my sister – oh, Rebecca! She turns away so I do not see her pain. Twice now I have snatched, through no effort of my own, the object of her assiduous schemes. Worse, I do not even want what I have won. What would be her suffering if she knew there was a third one, whose heart she once coveted, who is mine
– my true beloved – a union, moreover, nourished by the light of the Holy Spirit? She would never forgive it!

And my poor father – weary and unwell – what an awful wound I would deal him, if I revealed our conspiracy! I cannot imagine confessing it now. Lysander, what shall we do?

In despair,
Jane