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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:27 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:27 -0700 |
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diff --git a/30270-h/30270-h.htm b/30270-h/30270-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3273e12 --- /dev/null +++ b/30270-h/30270-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4400 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Mother-in-Law + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + font-weight: normal; + } + h1 { + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: xx-large; + line-height: 150%; + letter-spacing: 0.2ex; + padding-left: 0.2ex; + } + h2 { + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-size: large; 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+ } + p.maintitle { + text-align: center; + font-size: x-large; + margin-top: 4em; + text-indent: 0em; + } + p.end { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + text-indent: 0em; + } + p.newsection { + text-indent: 0em; + } + p.sigline1 { + text-align: right; + padding-right: 4em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + } + p.signature { + text-align: right; + padding-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0em; + } + + span.floatleft { + float: left; + padding-right: 2px; + overflow: visible; + } + span.dropcap { + float: left; + padding-top: 2px; + padding-left: 0px; + padding-right: 2px; + font-size: 280%; + line-height: 80%; + overflow: visible; + } + span.firstword { + text-transform: uppercase; + } + + table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + } + table.toc { + font-size: medium; + width: 60ex; + line-height: 160%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + table.toc th { + font-size: medium; + font-variant: small-caps; + text-align: left; + vertical-align: bottom; + text-indent: 0em; + padding-left: 1em; + font-weight: normal; + } + table.toc th.onpage { + text-align: right; + } + table.toc td { + font-size: small; + vertical-align: bottom; + padding-left: 1.5em; + text-indent: 0em; + } + table.toc td.roman { + text-align: right; + } + table.toc td.caption { + text-align: left; + } + table.toc td.onpage { + text-align: right; + } + + div.note { + margin: 4em 10% 0 10%; + padding: 1em; + border: 1px dashed black; + color: inherit; + background-color: #F0F8FF; + font-size: smaller; + } + div.note p { + margin-top: 0em; + text-indent: 0em; + } + + ul { + list-style: none; + margin-left: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + padding-left: 1.5em; + text-indent: -1.5em; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + right: 1%; + font-size: x-small; + font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + letter-spacing: 0ex; + padding-left: 0ex; + color: gray; + background-color: inherit; + } + + a:link { + text-decoration: none; + color: rgb(10%,30%,60%); + background-color: inherit; + } + a:visited { + text-decoration: none; + color: rgb(10%,30%,60%); + background-color: inherit; + } + a:hover { + text-decoration: underline; + } + a:active { + text-decoration: underline; + } + + .blockquote { + font-size: 90%; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; + } + + .center { + text-align: center; + } + .smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + } + .smaller { + font-size: smaller; + } + + .poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + font-size: 90%; + text-align: left; + } + .poem br { + display: none; + } + .poem .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; + } + .poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; + } + .poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; + } + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30270 ***</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h1><span class="smcap">That Mother-in-Law<br /> +<span class="smaller">of</span><br /> +mine.</span></h1> + +<p class="motto"><span class="smcap">“Be to her virtues very kind,<br /> +Be to her faults a little blind.”</span></p> + +<p class="publisher">PHILADELPHIA:<br /> +THE KEYSTONE PUBLISHING CO.<br /> +1889.</p> + +<p class="copyright"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +COPYRIGHT<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY,<br /> +<span class="smaller">1879</span></p> + +<p class="dedication"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +Dedicated<br /> +<em class="gesperrt">TO ALL THOSE HAVING</em><br /> +MOTHERS-IN-LAW<br /> +<span class="smaller">OR EXPECTING TO HAVE.</span></p> + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> + + + + +<p class="contents"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>CONTENTS.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr><th colspan="2">Chapter</th><th class="onpage">Page</th></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Bessie and I and Bessie’s Mother</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Courting the Mother</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Our Marriage</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Mountains and more Mother-in-Law</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Rise and Fall</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">What is Home without a Mother-in-Law?</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Miss Van’s Party and another Unpleasantness</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Another Charlie in the Field</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">The Shadow on our Life</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">My Mother-in-Law Subdued</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">George’s New Departure</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Baby Talk, Old Dives, and Other Things</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">A Surprise</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="roman"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td class="caption"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">A Happy Prospect</a></td><td class="onpage"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> + + + +<p class="maintitle"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>MY MOTHER-IN-LAW.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /> + +<span class="caption">BESSIE AND I AND BESSIE’S MOTHER.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="floatleft">“</span><span class="dropcap">W</span>hy,</span> Charlie, you sha’n’t talk so about my +mother! I won’t allow it.”</p> + +<p>“It does sound a little rough, my dear; but I +can’t help it. She does exasperate me so. She +doesn’t show a proper deference for your husband, +my dear. We are married now, and she +ought to give up her objections to me. I can’t be +expected to place myself in her leading strings.”</p> + +<p>“But you mustn’t demand too much at once, +and should try to conciliate her. Now do, for my +sake; won’t you, dear?”</p> + +<p>Here we were, only a month married, and +spending our honeymoon at a most charming +summer resort, where there was no excuse for +getting out of patience. Everything was beautiful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>and attractive: Little hotel, strange to say, +quite delightful; no fault to find with surroundings +and accommodations; my darling Bessie, +as sweet as an angel and determined to be happy +and to make me happy; everything, in short, +calculated to give us a long summer of delight.</p> + +<p>That is, if Bessie had only been an orphan. +But there was her mother, who had joined us +on our summer trip, after the first two weeks of +unalloyed happiness, and threatened to accompany +us through life. Already it almost made +the prospect dismal. The idea that Bessie and +I would ever quarrel, or even have any impatient +words together, had seemed to me to be simply +ridiculous. I had seen what I had seen. My +dashing friend, Fred, and his stylish wife,—they +had been married two years, and a visible coldness +had come upon them. I knew, by an occasional +angry whisper and knitting of the brow before +people, that he must sometimes swear and rave in +the privacy of their own rooms, and her cutting +replies or haughty indifference showed that there +had been a deal of love lost between them in those +two years.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>Other people, too, got indifferent or downright +hostile in their marital relations. But then, I was +not a dashing fellow and Bessie was not stylish, +and in other ways we were quite different from +most people. Ours had been a real love-match +from the first. Bessie was simple and unaffected, +honest and pure in every thought, and determined +to make me a faithful and loving wife till death +did us part. As for me, why, of course I was generous +and affectionate, ready to make any sacrifice +and bear any burden for the trusting creature who +had so freely given herself into my keeping. +There should be no clouds to darken her life. I +would never be selfish or impatient, or for one +moment hurt her gentle heart by heedless act or +careless word.</p> + +<p>But plague upon it! I could not get on with her +mother; and here I was, before our summer holiday +was over, and before we had settled down +to that home life in which trouble and annoyance +must needs come, getting out of patience and saying +cruel things; and there was Bessie, sitting in +the summer twilight with a light shawl drawn over +her shoulders, pouting her pretty lips with vexation, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>and digging the toes of her little boots into +the balustrade in front of us, because I had expressed +a pious wish that her mother was in Jericho. +I declare, if there weren’t tears gathering +in her gentle blue eyes!</p> + +<p>I was angry with myself, and, putting my arm +around her slender waist, I laid my cheek against +hers and said soothingly, “Never mind, darling! I +didn’t mean it. Don’t think any more about it.”</p> + +<p>But as we sat for the next five minutes without +saying a word, I couldn’t help pondering on the +possibilities of the future, for Mrs. Pinkerton was +to live with us. That was one of the understood +conditions of our bargain, and it was evident that +she was to furnish the test of all my good resolutions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton had been left a widow when +Bessie was twelve years old, with a neat little cottage +in the suburbs of the city and a snug competence +in a secure investment. I was fairly settled +in business, with an income that would enable us +to live in modest comfort, and was determined +not to disturb the investment or have it drawn +upon in any way for household expenses. But +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>the old lady—I already began to speak of her by +that disrespectful epithet, although she was still +under fifty—was to live with us. I had readily +acquiesced in that arrangement, for was it not my +darling’s wish? And I could not decently make +any objection, for it was mighty convenient to +have a pretty cottage, ready furnished, in one of +the finest suburbs of the city in which I was employed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton was a good woman in her way: +how could she be anything else and the mother of +such an angel as I had secured for my wife? She +meant well, of course; I admitted that, and I +ought to be on the pleasantest terms with her, and +determined from the first that I would be. But +somehow we were not congenial, and when that +is the case the best people in the world find it +hard to get along agreeably together.</p> + +<p>The course of true love between Bessie and me +had run very smooth. From the moment my old +school-fellow, her brother George, now in Paris +studying medicine, had introduced me to her, I +had been completely won by her sweet disposition +and charming ways, and she in turn was captivated +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>by my manly independence, strong good sense, +and generous impulses. I am not vain, but the +truth is the truth; and, as I am telling this story +myself, I must set down the facts. We fell in love +right away, and it was not long before we were +mutually convinced that we were made expressly +for each other and could never be happy apart.</p> + +<p>So it happened that I had to do the courting +with the mother. She was the one to be won +over, and it was not likely to be an easy task, +for I plainly saw that she did not quite approve of +me. When I was first introduced to her, she +looked at me with her great, steady blue eyes, as +if analyzing me to the very boots, and evidently +set me down as a somewhat arrogant and self-sufficient +young fellow who needed a judicious +course of discipline to teach him humility. I was +generally self-possessed and had no little confidence +in myself, but I confess that I was embarrassed in +her presence. She was not at all like Bessie, I +thought. She had taught school in her youth, and +had learned to command and be obeyed. The +late Mr. Pinkerton, I fancied, had found it useless +to contend against her authority, and this had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>increased her disposition to carry things her +own way; and her seven years’ widowhood, +with its independence and self-reliance, had not +prepared her to be submissive to the wishes of +others.</p> + +<p>Still, she loved her daughter with tender devotion, +and her chief anxiety was to have her every +wish gratified. Therein was my advantage, for I +knew that Bessie, gentle and trusting as she was, +would never give me up or allow her life to be +happy without the gratification of her first love. +So I set to work confidently to make myself +agreeable to the widow and win her consent to +our marriage.</p> + +<p>“You must bring mamma around to approve of +it,” Bessie had said, on that ever-to-be-remembered +evening, when we were returning from a +long drive, and after an hour of sweet confidences +she had surrendered herself without reserve to +my future keeping. “She is the best mother in the +world, and loves me very much, but she is peculiar +in some ways, and I am afraid she doesn’t +altogether like you. I would not for the world +displease her, that is, if I could help it,” she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>added, glancing up, as much as to say, “It is all +settled now forever and forevermore, whatever +may befall, but do get my mother to consent to it +with a good grace.”</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /> + +<span class="caption">COURTING THE MOTHER.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">M</span>rs. Pinkerton</span> sat in an easy-chair near +the window, doing nothing, when I marched +in to begin the siege. I felt diffident and uneasy, +although I am not usually troubled that +way. But if I should live to the advanced age of +Methusaleh, I could never forget Mrs. Pinkerton’s +appearance on that memorable occasion. Before +I had spoken a word I saw that she knew what +was coming, and had hardened her heart against +me. She had anticipated all that I would say, +had discounted my plea, as it were, and prejudged +the whole case. Her look plainly said: “Young +man, I know your pitiful story. You needn’t +tell me. You may be very well as young men go, +you fancy you can more than fill a mother’s place +in Bessie’s inexperienced heart, but you can’t get +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>me out. I am Adamant. Your intentions are all +very honorable, but you are a graceless intruder. +Your credentials are rejected on sight.” I saw the +difficult task I had undertaken. “Mrs. Pinkerton,” +I said, mustering all my forces, “it is no use +mincing the matter, or beating about the shrubbery. +I am in love with your daughter, and +Bessie is in love with me. I believe I can make +Bessie happy, and am sure nothing but Bessie can +make me happy. I have come to ask your consent +to our marriage.” Then I hung my head like +a whipped school-boy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton took off her eye-glasses, and +then put them on again with considerable care; +after which she leveled a look at me and through +me that made me feel like calling out “Murder!” +or making for the door. But I stood my ground, +and heard her say quietly,—</p> + +<p>“So you are engaged to my daughter?”</p> + +<p>A simple remark, but the tone meant “You are +a puppy.” I had to muster all my resolution to +reply politely and coolly that, with her gracious +consent, such was the fact.</p> + +<p>“Are you aware that it is customary to obtain +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>parental consent before proceeding to such +lengths?”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Pinkerton, excuse me. I thought in my +ignorance that it would be just as well to do that +afterwards; or rather, I didn’t think anything +about it. I was so much in love with Bessie that it +was all out before I knew it. If I had thought, +of course I would have—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Pinkerton, “if your kind +of people ever thought, they would undoubtedly +do differently. Bessie certainly ought to know +better. Girls rush into matrimony now-a-days +with as much carelessness as they would choose +partners at a game of croquet. I should have +been consulted in this. It is all wrong to allow +young people to have such entire freedom in affairs +of this kind as they are allowed in these days.”</p> + +<p>“But certainly, my dear Mrs. Pinkerton,” I +said, becoming somewhat impatient, “you will +not refuse your consent in this case? Bessie’s +happiness—that is, the happiness of all of us, or—our +happiness—Bessie’s and mine, I would +say—”</p> + +<p>“No doubt your happiness is very important to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>yourself, Mr. Travers, and as to my daughter’s +well-being, I have looked to that for quite a number +of years past, and I flatter myself I shall be +able to look out for it in the future.”</p> + +<p>“Not if you insist on parting us!” I cried, getting +out of patience and letting all my carefully +prepared plans of assault go by the board. “You +may withhold your consent, but that cannot prevent +our loving each other!”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. Nothing on earth can prevent +young people who are in love from making themselves +ridiculous. But getting married and living +together soon cures them of sentimentalism.”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you give us that chance to be cured +then, my dear Mrs. Pinkerton?” I exclaimed, regaining +a little tact.</p> + +<p>She seemed to be taking it under advisement, +and my courage came up a little. Then, looking +at me with her peculiarly searching gaze, she said, +“It isn’t necessary to argue the case; I know +all you would say. You love Bessie to distraction; +you could not live without her; your heart +would be hopelessly broken if you had to give +her up; you will be true to her forever and a day; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>you offer her all of the good things of this world +that any sane woman could desire, besides which +you throw in an eternal, undying devotion; and +so on, to the end of the chapter. We will consider +that all said, and so save time and trouble. +You think that ought to end the matter and bring +me to your way of thinking. I wonder at the effrontery +of young men, who walk into our households +and carelessly tell us mothers what is best +for our children, and assure us, between their +puffs of tobacco smoke, that a case of three weeks’ +moonshining outweighs the devotion of a lifetime.”</p> + +<p>I began to see what course was open for me. +The old lady was jealous, and I could not blame +her. Her objections were general, not specific. +Strategy must take the place of a direct assault. +There flashed through my mind the ridiculous old +nonsense rhyme quotation,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“I must soften the heart of this terrible cow.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I said gently, “I can readily see how a mother +must regard the claims of the man who comes to +her demanding her most precious treasure; and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>what you say makes me feel how presumptuous my +demand must seem. I love your daughter—that +must be my only excuse. And after all, what has +happened was only what a mother must expect. +Your daughter’s love will not be the less yours +because she also loves the man of her choice. That +she should love and be loved was inevitable.”</p> + +<p>“We will not go into the discussion any further,” +she interrupted. “I don’t wish to say anything +uncomplimentary of you personally, but I +simply am not prepared to give my daughter up +at present. My opinion of men in general is +good, so long as they do not interfere with me or +mine.”</p> + +<p>(Mental note: “May there be precious little +interference between us!”)</p> + +<p>“Your judgment is doubtless good,” I said, +smiling; “but there are exceptions which prove +the rule, and I hope you will find that even I will +improve upon acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“Your conceit is abominable, young man.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. I have found no one who could +flatter me except myself, so I lose no opportunity +to give myself a good character.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>“Especially in addressing the mother of the +woman you wish to marry, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Precisely, as she is naturally prejudiced against +me. My dear Mrs. Pinkerton, what must I do to +please you?”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue!”</p> + +<p>“Anything but that. You admit that I am a +good fellow enough, and that Bessie would probably +marry some one in course of time. Now, I +don’t see why you cannot make us both happy by +giving your consent. It costs you a pang to do it. +I honor you for that. Give me the right to console +you.”</p> + +<p>“By making myself an object of pity? No, +not yet, not yet. I must, at least, have time to +think.”</p> + +<p>I inwardly cursed my luck. How long was +this sort of thing going to last? I was about to +rise and take my leave, when an inspiration +struck me.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Pinkerton,” I said gravely, “what you +have said of the ties that exist between you and +your daughter has touched me deeply. I believe +we young people do not half appreciate a mother’s +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>unchanging love. It lies so far beneath the surface +that we are too apt to forget its constant +blessing. My mother died when I was very +young. Ah, if she were only here now, to plead +my cause for me!”</p> + +<p>With these words, I turned on my heel and +hastily got out of the room. I went into the +garden and lighted a cigar, the better to think +over the situation. I could not determine what +progress, if any, I had made in the good graces +of Mrs. Pinkerton. While I was cogitating, +Bessie came out and approached me with an +inquiring look. I am afraid my returning glance +did not greatly reassure her. As she came up +and took my arm, she said,—</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Well! No, it’s not very well. I am beaten, +my dear. Your mother is simply a stony-hearted +parent!”</p> + +<p>“What did she say?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she wants you to grow up an old maid—as +if such a thing were possible!—and says that +lovers have no idea of what a mean, cruel thing it +is to rob people of only daughters; and that she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>shall require time to think of it. What do you +think of that?”</p> + +<p>Bessie knitted her pretty brows, and dug her +toes into the walk.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I had better go to her?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Of course you must. But I know it won’t be +of any use just yet. We must, as she says, give her +time. She will come around all right at the end +of nine or ten years. The fact is, Bessie, she’s +a little bit jealous of me and regards me as an +intruder.”</p> + +<p>“Poor, dear mamma!” said Bessie, her eyes +becoming moist.</p> + +<p>“Poor, dear pussy-cat! You should have seen +her shoot me with her eyes and ridicule my honest +sentiment. She used me roughly, my dear, and I +can’t help wondering at my amazing politeness to +her.”</p> + +<p>Bessie was not discouraged. She had several +interviews with her mother, in which protestations, +tears, smiles, and coaxings played a part, but +there was no apparent change of heart on the part +of the old lady, after all. I don’t know how long +this disagreeable state of affairs would have continued +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>under ordinary circumstances, had not an +unexpected, thrilling, and, as it happened, fortunate +occurrence hastened a crisis and brought an +end to the siege. It was a very singular thing, +and it seemed to have been pre-arranged to bring +me glory, and, what was better, the desired goodwill +of the “stony-hearted parent.”</p> + +<p>If there was any one thing that the worthy Mrs. +Pinkerton detested more than men and tobacco, +that thing was a burglar. Add fear to detestation, +and you will see that when I defended the +old lady from the attentions of a burglar, I had +taken a long step into her good graces.</p> + +<p>It was a week after the interview narrated above, +and in the early summer, Mrs. Pinkerton had gone +down to a quiet sea-side resort for a short stay, +thinking to get away from me; but I was not to +be put off so. I followed her, taking a room at +the same hotel.</p> + +<p>About one o’clock at night, the particular burglar +to whom I owe so much, effected an entrance +into the hotel through a basement window, and +quietly made his way up stairs. Every one was +asleep except myself, and I was planning all sorts +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>of expedients to conquer the prejudices of my +mother-in-law that was to be. Mrs. Pinkerton’s +room opened on a long corridor, near the end of +which my modest seven-by-nine snuggery was situated. +It was a warm night, and the transoms +over the doors of almost all the bed-chambers had +been left open to admit the air. A gleam of light +from a dark-lantern, coming through my transom, +was what led me to hastily don a pair of trousers +and take my revolver from my valise. Then I +opened my door very cautiously, without having +struck a light, and could see—nothing! I waited +a few moments, almost holding my breath. At +the end of those few moments I could make out +the form of a man swarming over the top of the +door of Mrs. Pinkerton’s room. His head and +shoulders were already inside the room, and I +could see his legs wriggle about as he noiselessly +wormed his way through the narrow transom. It +took me but a brief second of time to glide forward +on tiptoe and mount the same chair which +had been used by the intruder in climbing to the +transom. This done, I seized both the wriggling +legs simultaneously, and gave a tremendous pull.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>My excitement must have imbued me with +double my natural strength, and the result of that +pull was simply indescribable. Burglar, transom-glass, +chair and all, went in a heap on the floor of +the corridor, producing the most appalling and +unearthly racket conceivable. The whole house +was in an uproar in a moment. People seemed to +spring up from every square foot of floor in the corridor +as if by magic. Cries of “Fire!” “Murder!” +“Help!” and screams of frightened women, rose +on every hand. The costumes which I beheld on +that momentous occasion were not only varied but +exceedingly amusing and picturesque as well. +The assembled multitude found nothing to interest +them, however. I alone was to be seen, seated on +a broken chair, with a rapidly swelling black eye, +while broken glass and an extinguished lantern lay +on the floor. I told the male guests what had happened. +The burglar had not waited to ask for my +card, but had contented himself with planting one +blow from the shoulder on my left eye, before I +could get upon my legs. And my revolver. +Well, I had not had the ghost of a chance to use +it. It was in my pocket. Fifteen minutes after +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>the fracas, Mrs. Pinkerton came to my room, completely +dressed, and insisted upon coming in to hear +all about it and to overwhelm me with thanks and +admiration. I was as modest as heroes proverbially +are, and then and there told her never to refer +to the subject again unless she addressed me as +Bessie’s betrothed.</p> + +<p>We went riding together, Bessie, Mrs. Pinkerton, +and I, the day after this episode; and without +any previous indication of an approaching +thaw, that singular old lady began to talk freely +about what should be worn at “the wedding,” +referring to it as though she had been the principal +agent in bringing it about.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /> + +<span class="caption">OUR MARRIAGE.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">S</span>o</span> it was that I brought my darling’s mother +around to consent, if not with a very good +grace, still with apparent cheerfulness, and she at +once took the direction of the nuptial preparations. +I made a show of consulting her about +many things, but she invariably gave me to understand +that her experience and superior knowledge +in such matters were not to be gainsaid. I was willing +to leave to her all the fuss and frippery of preparing +clothes for her daughter. It always seemed +to me that she had clothes enough, and clothes +that were good enough for married life. I couldn’t +understand why a young woman, on becoming a +wife, should need a lot of new and elaborate dresses, +such as she had never worn and never cared to +wear, and an endless variety of under-garments +of mysterious and incomprehensible make, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>frills and fringes and laces and edgings, as if, up +to that time, she had never had anything next to +her precious person, except what was visible to the +exterior world. And even assuming that she +donned these things for the first time as parts of +a manifold and complicated wedding garment, why +should so much fine needle-work and delicate +trimming be prepared to be stowed away out of +sight of prying mortals, for whose vision women +are presumed to dress themselves? Are they got +up to show to friends and excite envy, and to fill +the minds of other young people with a sense of +the difficulties of getting married?</p> + +<p>One day, when I happened in,—by accident, +of course,—and the mother happened +to be out on one of her many pilgrimages +to town, Bessie took me up to her room in +a half-frightened way, as if doing something +that she was afraid was terribly improper, and +showed me a bewildering profusion of these +things, neatly tucked away in bureau drawers. +I laughed outright, and asked her who was to see +all that finery. She was vexed and bit her lip, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>and I was sorry and voted myself a brute. From +that moment, I determined not to say a word +about the clothes, except to express unstinted +admiration.</p> + +<p>There was not only clothing, but blankets and +quilts and bed linen, though we were to live in +her old home, which was already well supplied. +One would suppose that a large and sudden +increase of family was expected at once. These +things annoyed me as senseless, and as absorbing +so much of my Bessie’s attention that we didn’t +have half the blissful times together that we had +before our engagement was an acknowledged +thing. But I knew that it was the mother’s +doings. Bessie did not really have any foolish +care for dress, though always beautifully arrayed +without any apparent effort; but she supposed it +was the proper thing, and submitted to her +mother.</p> + +<p>But there was one thing I set my heart on. I +wanted a quiet wedding, without display or pretence. +It did seem to me that this was a private +occasion in which the wishes of the persons chiefly +concerned should be consulted. It was their business +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>and should be conducted in their own way. +Bessie sympathized with me, and wanted of all +things to go to church quietly and privately, and +then, after a leave-taking with a few intimate +friends at home, start right off on our proposed trip +to the White Mountains. But no; we were inexperienced, +and the widow knew what the occasion +demanded much better than we did. She was a +little grand in her ideas, and felt the importance of +keeping on good terms with society. I was disposed +to apply profane epithets to society, and to +insist that this marriage was mine and Bessie’s, and +nobody’s else. But what was the use? There would +be unpleasant feelings, and the mamma must be conciliated, +and so I yielded after a warm but altogether +affectionate little controversy with Bessie.</p> + +<p>Every time I came to the house now, I was +informed of some new feature which Mrs. P. had +decided upon as indispensable to the gorgeousness +of the occasion.</p> + +<p>“Have you ordered your dress suit yet?” she +asked one evening.</p> + +<p>“Dress suit? Oh yes. I had almost forgotten +that.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>“And, by the way, those cards? I think you +had better send them out: you write such a good, +legible hand.”</p> + +<p>“Y-e-s, oh yes. With pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“When you go to the city to-morrow, I wish +you would drop in at Draper’s and get me a few +little things. I have made out a list, so it won’t +be any trouble to you.”</p> + +<p>“No trouble at all. Glad to do it.”</p> + +<p>“That white ribbon should be medium width. +And before I forget it, have you written yet to +your friend De Forest about his standing up?”</p> + +<p>“No, I forgot it. I’ll drop him a line to-morrow. +But what do you want that ribbon to be so long for?”</p> + +<p>“That is to be held across the aisle by the +ushers, you know, to keep off the <i>ignobile vulgus</i>. +You and Bessie will march up <i>here</i>, you see, +preceded by the four ushers and the bridesmaids +and groomsmen, who will then range themselves +off this way. The members of the families and +the friends will be separated from the other people +<i>thus</i>. It’s very pretty. Belle Graham was +married that way at St. Thomas’s, and everybody +said it was splendid.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>This is the kind of talk I had to listen to for +weeks, and is it any wonder that I grew thin and +had sleepless nights?</p> + +<p>I was now a mere puppet in the hands of Mrs. +Pinkerton, and came and went as she pulled the +wires. She had arranged that the affair was to +take place in “her church”—and a very fashionable +temple of worship it was. Her rector was to +officiate, assisted by the vealy young man who had +just graduated from the theological seminary. +There were to be four bridesmaids and an equal +number of groomsmen and of ushers. I should have +liked to have something to say about who should +“stand up” with us, as Mrs. Pinkerton expressed +it; but when I timidly suggested that some of my +friends would be available for the purpose, I was +taken aback to learn that the entire list had been +made up and decided upon without my knowledge, +and that only one of the groomsmen chosen was a +friend of mine,—De Forest,—the others being +young men whom the worthy Mrs. Pinkerton had +selected from her list of society people. One of +the young men was a downright fool, if I must call +things by their right names, but he dressed to perfection; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>the remaining two I scarcely knew by +sight, but I did know that one of them had seen +the time when he aspired to occupy the place I +was now filling in respect to the Pinkerton household: +need I say more concerning my sentiments +regarding him?</p> + +<p>The ushers,—well, of course, they were the +four young gentlemen who knew everybody who +was anybody, and I could not object to them, +considering that they charged nothing for their +onerous services.</p> + +<p>The bridesmaids were all old school friends of +Bessie’s, and two of them were considered pretty, +and the other two were stylish.</p> + +<p>One of my keenest regrets was that Bessie’s +brother George was away off in Paris, and could +not grace the occasion with his superb presence; +for he was a superb fellow in all respects, and I +felt a true brotherly affection for him. Had he +not introduced me to Bessie? Had he not always +wanted me to become his brother-in-law?</p> + +<p>The great day came at last. The town was full +of the invited people, and the weather, so anxiously +looked to on such occasions, was all that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>could be desired. My remembrance of the solemn +events of that day is now rather misty. I +remember the tussle De Forest and I had with my +collar and cravat in the morning, and how he +stuck pins into my neck, and wrestled mightily +with his own elaborate toilet. I remember, and +this very distinctly, how awfully tight were my +new patent-leather boots, which caused me for the +time being the most excruciating anguish. Beyond +these, and similar minor things which have a way +of sticking in the memory, all the rest is very +much like a vivid dream. The close carriage +whirling through the streets; a great crush of +people, with here and there a familiar, smiling +face; Bessie in her wedding-dress of white silk, +with her long veil and twining garlands of orange +blossoms; the bridesmaids, radiant in tarletan, +with pretty blue bows and sashes; the long aisle, +up which we marched with slow and reverent +tread; the pealing measures of the Wedding Chorus; +the dignified and fatherly clergyman; the +vealy young assistant; the unction of the slowly +intoned words of the marriage-service; the fumbling +for the ring,—and through it all there rises, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>as out of a mist, the face of my mother-in-law, the +presiding genius of it all, the unknown quantity in +the equation of my married life, now begun amid +the felicitations, more or less sincere, of a host of +kissing, hand-shaking, smiling, chattering, good-natured +aunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives of all +degrees.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /> + +<span class="caption">MOUNTAINS AND MORE MOTHER-IN-LAW.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">S</span>o</span> the bells were rung, metaphorically speaking, +and we were wed. I had a long leave +of absence from the banking-house in which I +held a responsible and confidential position, and +we started for the mountains, leaving mamma +Pinkerton to put things to rights and follow us in +a fortnight, when we had decided to settle down +for a month’s quiet stay in a picturesque town of +the mountain region. Oh, the unrestrained joy of +that fortnight! Everybody at the hotels seemed +to know by instinct that we were a newly-married +pair, and knowing glances passed between them. +But what did we care? With pride and a conscious +embarrassment that made my hand tremble, +I wrote on the registers in a bold hand “Charles +Travers and wife.” I asked for the best room +with a pleasant out-look. The smiling clerk, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>trained to dissimulation, would appear as unconscious +as the blank safe behind him, but he knew +all the while, the sly rascal, that we were on a +wedding trip, and he paid special attention to our +comfort. We saw the glories and wonders of the +mountains, and shared their inspiration as with a +single heart. We rose early to drink the clear air +and greet the rising sun together. We strolled +out in the evening to romantic spots, and there, +with arms around each other, as we walked or +stood gazing on the scene and listening to the +rustling breeze, we were happy. For two weeks +our lives blended with each other and with nature, +and it was with a sigh that we mounted the lumbering +stage to take up our sojourn in the retired +town on the hills. We came to the little hotel +just at night, and were stared at and commented +upon by those who had been there three days and +assumed the air of having had possession for years. +We were tired, and kept aloof that evening, and +the next day mother-in-law arrived.</p> + +<p>As she dismounted from the coach, she gave the +driver a severe warning to be careful of her trunk, +an iron-bound treasure that would have defied the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>efforts of the most determined baggage-smasher. +Bessie had flown to meet her, and their greeting was +affectionate; but to me the old lady presented a +hand encased in a mitt, or sort of glove with amputated +fingers, and gave me a stately, “I hope you +are well, sir,” that rather made me feel sick. She +looked full at me in her steady and commanding +way, as much as to say, “Well, you have committed +no atrocious crime yet, I suppose; but I +am rather surprised at it.”</p> + +<p>If there is anything I pride myself on, it is self-possession +and a willingness to face anybody and +give as good as I get, but that magnificently imperious +way of looking with those large eyes +always disconcerted me. I could not brace myself +enough to meet them with any show of impudence, +though the old lady had not ceased to +regard that as the chief trait of my character. As +Mrs. Pinkerton trod with stately step the rude +piazza of that summer hotel, she put her eye-glasses +on and surveyed its occupants with a look that +made them shrink into themselves and feel ashamed +to be sitting about in that idle way. I believe the +old lady’s eyesight was good enough, and that she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>used her glasses, with their gold bows and the +slender chain with which they were suspended +about her neck, for effect. I noticed that if they +were not on she always put them on to look at +anything, and if they happened to be on she took +them off for the same purpose.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, going into the little parlor, and +looking from the windows, “this really seems to be +a fine situation. The view of the mountains is quite +grand.”</p> + +<p>“Very kind of you to approve of the mountains, +but you could give them points on grandeur,” +I thought; but I merely remarked, “We find it +quite pleasant here.”</p> + +<p>She turned and glanced at me without reply, +as much as to say, “Who addressed you, sir? +You would do well to speak when you are spoken +to.” I was abashed, but was determined to do +the agreeable so far as I could, in spite of the +rebuke of those eyes.</p> + +<p>“The house doesn’t seem to me to be very attractive,” +she continued, glancing around with a gaze +that took in everything through all the partition +walls, and assuming a tone that meant, “I am +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>speaking to you, Bessie, and no one else.” “What +sort of people are there here?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, some very pleasant people, I should +judge,” said Bessie, “but we have been here only +one day, you know, and have made no acquaintances +to speak of. Charlie’s friend, Fred Marston, +from the city, is here with his wife; and I +met a young lady to whom I took quite a fancy +this morning, a Miss Van Duzen. She is quite +wealthy, and an orphan, and is here with her +uncle, a fine-looking gentleman, who is president +of a bank, or an insurance company, or some +thing of the sort. You saw him, I think, on the +piazza,—the large man, with gray side-whiskers, +white vest, and heavy gold chain.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I noticed him. A pompous-looking old +gentleman, isn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he is dignified in his manner, but not at +all pompous,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“Well, I call him pompous, if looks mean anything,” +said the mother, with the air of one to +whom looks were quite sufficient. “I think I +will go to my room,” she added, and turned a +glance on me, as much as to say, “You needn’t +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>come, sir.” I had no intention of going, and +wandered out on the piazza, feeling as though +Bessie had almost been taken away from me +again.</p> + +<p>When she rejoined me, leaving her mother +above stairs, I asked, “What does she think of +her room?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it doesn’t quite suit her. She thinks +the furniture scanty and shabby, water scarce, +towels rather coarse, and she can’t endure the +sight of a kerosene lamp; but she will make herself +quite comfortable, I dare say.”</p> + +<p>“And everybody else uncomfortable,” I felt +like adding, but restrained myself.</p> + +<p>She came down to tea, and being offered a seat +on the other side of me from Bessie, firmly declined +it, and took the one on the other side of her +daughter from me. As she unfolded her napkin +she took in the whole table with a searching glance, +and had formed a quick estimate of everybody +sitting around it. Miss Clara Van Duzen and Mr. +Desmond, her uncle, sat opposite, and an introduction +across the table took place. The young lady +was vivacious and talkative, and tried to make herself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>agreeable, but my mother-in-law did not like +what she afterwards called her “chatter,” and set +her down as a frivolous young person. “Miss +Van,” as everybody called her, with her own approval,—for, +as she said, she detested the Duzen +which her Dutch ancestors had bequeathed her with +their other property,—was of New York Knickerbocker +origin, now living with her uncle in Boston, +and was by no means frivolous, though uncommonly +lively. She had fine, brown eyes, beautiful +hair, and a complexion that defied sun and wind. +It had the rosy glow of health, and indicated a +good digestion and high spirits. Mr. Desmond +seemed to be mostly white vest, immaculate shirt-front, +and gold chain, the last-named article being +very heavy and meandering through the button-holes +of his vest and up around his invisible neck. +He said little, and was evidently not much given +to light conversation. He was very gracious in his +attentions to the ladies, however, and seemed to +pay special deference to Mrs. Pinkerton. I afterwards +learned that he was a widower of long standing, +without chick or child, and the guardian of his +niece, whom he regarded with great admiration.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>Down at the other end of the table was Marston, +evidently giving vent to his impatience +about something, and his wife, with fierce eyes, +telling him, in manner if not in words, not to +make a fool of himself. The rest of the company +was made up either of transient visitors or +of persons with whom this story has nothing in +particular to do.</p> + +<p>As we emerged on the piazza after tea, Fred, +who had impolitely gone out in advance, called +out, “Charlie, old boy, come over here and have +a smoke!”</p> + +<p>I must confess that these long sittings on the +piazzas of summer hotels had lured me back to +my old habits, which I had forsworn in my efforts +to conciliate Bessie’s mother. Bessie had +encouraged me in it, for to tell the truth she +rather liked the fragrance of a good cigar, and +dearly loved to see me enjoying it. It was my +nature to defy the whole world and be master of +my own habits, but I had felt a mean inclination, +after mother-in-law joined the party, to slink away +and smoke on the sly. There was nothing for it +now, however, but to put on a bold face, or play +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>the hypocrite and pretend I didn’t smoke. The +latter I would not do, and if I had attempted it, +it wouldn’t go down with Fred, and I should have +been in a worse predicament than ever. I went +boldly across the piazza and took the proffered +cigar. Glancing out at the corner of my eye as +I was lighting it, I saw my mother-in-law regarding +me through her glasses with increased disfavor. +She did not, however, seem to be surprised, +and doubtless believed me capable of any perfidy.</p> + +<p>“I say, Charlie, old boy, let’s have a game of +billiards,” said Fred, after a few puffs. “I’ll give +you twenty points and beat you out of your boots.” +Now I was very fond of billiards, and usually +didn’t care who knew it, but Mrs. Pinkerton did +not approve of the game, and had no knowledge +that I indulged in it. But Fred would speak in +that absurd shouting way of his, and all the ladies +heard him. Again I mustered up resolution and +went into the billiard room, but I played very +indifferently, and was thinking all the time of my +mother-in-law and her opinion of me. I really +wanted to get into her good graces, but it required +the sacrifice of all my own inclinations, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>despised a man who deliberately played the hypocrite +to win anybody’s favor.</p> + +<p>After two or three listless games I said to Fred, +“I guess I will join the ladies.” I was feeling +some qualms of conscience for staying away from +Bessie a whole hour at once.</p> + +<p>“Oh, hang the ladies!” was Fred’s graceless +response; “they can take care of themselves. My +wife gets along well enough without me, I know, +and yours will soon learn to be quite comfortable +without your guardian presence; besides she’s got +her mother now. By the way, what a mighty +grand old dowager Mrs. Pink is!”</p> + +<p>“Pinkerton is her name,” I said, a little haughtily, +as if resenting the liberty he took with my +mother-in-law’s cognomen.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I know, but the name is too long; and +besides, she reminds one of a full-blown pink, a +little on the fade, perhaps, but still with a good +deal of bloom about her. Is she going to live +with you? Precious fine time you will have!” he +added, having received his answer by a nod. +“She’ll boss the shebang, you bet!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I guess not,” I answered, not liking his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>slangy way of talking about my affairs, and resolving +in my own mind that I would be master in +my own house.</p> + +<p>“Well, then there’ll be a fine old tussle for +supremacy, and don’t you forget it!”</p> + +<p>With this remark Fred wandered off down the +dusty road, humming Madame Angot, and I drew +up a chair by Bessie’s side. She had evidently +been wishing I would come. Mr. Desmond was +sitting a little apart from the rest, twisting his +fingers in his watch-chain and looking intently at +the mountain-top opposite, as if expecting somebody +to come over with a dispatch for him. Mrs. +Pinkerton sat by her daughter’s side in calm +grandeur, her gray puffs—that fine silver-gray +that comes prematurely on aristocratic brows—seeming +like appendages of a queenly diadem. +Miss Van had been diverting the company with a +lively account of her day’s adventures. She was +always having adventures, and had a faculty of +relating them that was little short of genius.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear, are you having a good time?” +I murmured in Bessie’s ear.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; but I was feeling a little lonesome +without you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>The conversation degenerated into commonplace +about the scenery and points of interest in +the neighborhood, and after a while the company +dispersed with polite good-evenings.</p> + +<p>When we reached our room, I remarked to +Bessie, who seemed more quiet than usual, “I +hope your mother will like it here.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I guess she will like it when she has +been here a little while,” was the answer. “You +know she has not been away from home much, of +late years, except to the seaside with the Watsons +and other of her old friends, and she does not +adapt herself readily to strange company.”</p> + +<p>I said nothing more, but was absorbed in +thought about my mother-in-law. It is evident +by this time that she was no ordinary woman, no +coarse or waspish mother-in-law, but a woman of +good breeding and the highest character. She +was intelligent and well-informed, a consistent +member of the Episcopal Church, with the highest +views of propriety and a reverential regard for +the rules of conduct laid down by good society. +This made her all the harder to deal with. If she +were a common or vulgar sort of mother-in-law, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>I could assert my prerogatives without compunction; +and I was forced to admit that she was a +very worthy woman, and not given to petty +meddling, but I felt that her presence was an +awful restraint. Without her we could have such +good times, going and coming as we pleased, and +acting with entire freedom; but she must be +counted in, and was a factor that materially +affected the result. She could not be ignored; +her opinions could not be disregarded. That +would be rude, and besides, their influence would +make itself felt. Strange, the irresistible effect of +a presence upon one! She might not openly interfere +or directly oppose, but there she was, and +she didn’t approve of me or like my friends, +could not fall in with my ways or my wishes, and +make one of any company in which I should feel +at ease, and I knew that her presence would be +depressing, and spoil our summer’s pleasure; and +after that was over and we were at home, what? +Well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. +We slept the sound sleep that mountain and +country quiet brings, and took the chances of the +future.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /> + +<span class="caption">THE RISE AND FALL.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">D</span>uring</span> the next week of our stay at the +Fairview hotel, it grew rather dull. There +was little to do but drive on the long country +roads, or wander over the hills and in the fields +and woods. I could have found plenty of pleasure +in that with Bessie and a party of congenial +friends, but it didn’t seem to be right always to +leave my worthy mother-in-law behind, with her +crochet work or the last new novel from the city, +on the sunny piazza or in her dim little chamber. +She was not averse to drives, in fact enjoyed them +very much, but she seemed to divine that I did +not really want her company, though I protested, +as became a dutiful son-in-law, that I should be +very glad to take her at any time. She did go +with us once or twice, but the laughter and romping +behavior which gave our rides their chief zest +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>were extinguished, and we jogged along in the +most proper manner, professing admiration for the +outlines of the hills and the far-away stretches of +scenery between the more distant mountains. We +returned as quiet and demure as if we had been to +a funeral. Mrs. Pinkerton saw the effect, and with +her fine feeling of independence, she politely but +firmly declined to go afterwards. As for walking +on anything but level sidewalks or gravel-paths, +she could not think of such a thing. The idea of +her climbing a hill or getting herself over a fence +seemed ridiculous to anybody that knew her.</p> + +<p>So it was that we were continually forced to +leave her behind, or deny ourselves the chief recreation +of the country. I was sincerely disinclined +to slight her in any way, and desirous of +contributing to her pleasure, but what could I do? +A fellow can’t get an iceberg to enjoy tropical sunshine. +Our dislike to leave the old lady alone, +although she insisted that she didn’t mind it at +all, led us to pass a large portion of each day, +sometimes all day, about the house. It was +“deuced stupid,” to use Marston’s elegant phrase, +but there was little to do for it. To be sure, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>there was Desmond, “old Dives,” Fred called him. +He seldom went out of sight of the house, but he +had a perfect mail-bag of newspapers and letters +every morning, and spent the forenoon indoors, +holding sweet communion with them and answering +his correspondents. In the afternoon he sat +on the piazza by the hour, contemplating the +mountain-top that had such a fascination for him. +He had a prodigious amount of information on +all manner of subjects, and a quick and accurate +judgment; but he was generally very reticent, +as he tipped back in his chair and twisted his +fingers in and out of that fine gold chain. My +mother-in-law, from her shady nook of the piazza, +would glance at him occasionally from her work +or her book, as much as to say, “It is strange +people can’t make some effort to be agreeable, +instead of being so stiff and dignified all the +afternoon”; but he seemed unconscious of her +looks and her mental comments. His thoughts +were probably in the marts of trade.</p> + +<p>Fred was continually going off to distant towns, +or down to the great hotels in the mountains, for +livelier diversion. His wife often insisted on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>going with him, to his evident disgust, not +because she cared to be in his company, but +because she wanted to go to the same places and +could not well go alone. Now, Fred wasn’t a +bad fellow at heart. I had known him for years, +and used to like him exceedingly. But he was +left without a father at an early age, with a considerable +fortune, and his mother was indulgent and +not overwise. He got rather fast as he grew up, +and then he contracted a thoughtless marriage +with Lizzie Carleton, a handsome and stylish young +lady, fond of dress and gay society, and without +a notion of domestic responsibility or duty. +Like most women who are not positively bad, +she had in her heart a desire to be right, but she +didn’t know how. She was all impulse, and gave +way to whims and feelings, as if helpless in any +effort to manage her own waywardness. As a +natural consequence there were constant jars +between the pair. Fred took to his clubs and +mingled with men of the race-course and the billiard +halls, and Lizzie beguiled herself as best she +could with her fashionable friends.</p> + +<p>And where was Miss Van Duzen these long and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>tedious days? They were never tedious to her, +for she was always on the go. She would go off +alone on interminable strolls, and bring back loads +of flowers and strange plants, and she could tell +all about them too. Her knowledge of botany +was wonderful, and she could make very clever +sketches; she would sit by the hour on some lonely +rock, putting picturesque scenery on paper, just for +the love of it; for when the pictures were done she +would give them away or throw them away without +the least compunction. She had a fine sense +of the ludicrous and was all the time seeing funny +things, which she described in a manner quite inimitable. +She had grown up in New York, before +her father’s death, in the most select of Knickerbocker +circles, but there was not a trace of aristocracy +in her ways. She was sociable with the +ostler and the office-boy, and agreeable to the +neighboring farmers, talking with them with a +spirit that quite delighted them. And yet there +was nothing free and easy in her ways that encouraged +undue familiarity. It was merely natural +ease and good nature. She inspired respect in +everybody but my mother-in-law, who was puzzled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>with her conduct, so different from her own ideas +of propriety, and yet so free from real vulgarity. +Mrs. Pinkerton could by no means approve of her, +and yet she could accuse her of no offence which +the most rigid could seriously censure.</p> + +<p>Miss Van was the life of the company when +she was about, telling of her adventures, getting +up impromptu amusements in the parlor, and +planning excursions. She was the only person +in the world, probably, who was quite familiar +with Mr. Desmond, and she would sit on his +knee, pull his whiskers, and call him an “awful +glum old fogy,” whereat he would laugh and say +she had gayety enough for them both. He admired +and loved her for the very qualities that he +lacked.</p> + +<p>All this while I was trying to win the gracious +favor of my mother-in-law, but it was up-hill +work. She would answer me with severe politeness, +and volunteer an occasional remark intended +to be pleasant, but the moment I seemed to be +gaining headway, a turn at billiards with Marston, +for whom she had a great aversion, a thoughtless +expression with a flavor of profanity in it, or my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>cigars, which I now indulged in without restraint, +brought back her freezing air of disapproval.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear!” I yawned sometimes, “why can’t I +go ahead and enjoy myself without minding that +very respectable and severe old woman?” But I +couldn’t do it. I was always feeling the influence +of those eyes, and even of her thoughts. I +couldn’t get away from it. Sunday came, and +Mrs. Pinkerton expressed the hope that we were +to attend divine service together. I hadn’t +thought of it till that moment, and then it struck +me as a terrible bore. There was no church +within ten miles except a little white, meek edifice +in the neighboring village, occupied alternately +by Methodist and Baptist expounders of a +very Calvinistic, and, to me, a very unattractive +sort of religion. It was not altogether to my +mother-in-law’s liking, but she regarded any +church as far better than none.</p> + +<p>“I presume you will go, sir,” she said, addressing +me when I made no reply to the previous hint. +She always used “sir,” with a peculiar emphasis, +when any suggestion was intended to have the +force of a command.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>“Well, really, I had not thought about it,” I +said, rather vexed, as I secretly made up my mind, +reckless of my policy of conciliation, that I would +not go at any price. A tedious, droning sermon +of an hour and perhaps an hour and a half in a +country church, full of dismal doctrines,—the +sermon, not the church,—I couldn’t stand, I +thought.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton’s eyes were upon me, waiting +for a more definite answer. “I—well, no, I don’t +think I really feel like it this morning. I thought +I would read to Bessie quietly in our room, and +take a rest.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir,” she said, “Bessie and I will +walk down to the village.”</p> + +<p>“The deuce you will!” I thought; “walk a mile +and a half on a dusty road; to be bored!” I +knew it was useless to protest, and I was too wilful +to take back what I had said, have the team +harnessed, and go, like a good fellow, to church. +“No, I’ll be blowed if I do!” I muttered.</p> + +<p>So off went the widow and her daughter without +me. Bessie tripped around to me on the piazza, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>looking like a fairy in her white dress and bit of +blue ribbon, gave me a sweet kiss, and said, “I’ll +be back before dinner. Have a nice quiet time, +now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; have a nice quiet time, and you gone +off with that old dragon!” It was a wicked +thought, for she was not a bit of a dragon, but +the feeling came over me that I was going to feel +miserable all the forenoon, and so I did. Miss +Van and her uncle had gone early to the neighboring +town, the largest in the county, for church and +the opportunity of observing; Fred and his wife +had gone, the night before, round to the other +side of the mountains, where there was to be a +sort of ball or hop at the leading hotel; and the +rest of the people in the house might as well have +been in the moon, for all that I cared about them. +A nice quiet time! Oh, yes; lounging about and +trying to think of something besides Mrs. Pinkerton +and my own shabby behavior. I would ten +times rather have been in the dullest country +church that ever echoed to the voice of the old +and unimproved theology of Calvin’s day. But I +was in for it, and lay in the hammock and looked +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>through the stables, tried to read, tried to sleep, +started on a walk and came back, and almost +cursed the quiet country Sunday, as specially calculated +to make a man of sense feel wretched.</p> + +<p>At last Bessie and her mother returned, and we +had dinner. In the afternoon I was an outcast +from Mrs. Pinkerton’s favor, but I had Bessie and +read to her, and, on the whole, got through the +rest of the day comfortably.</p> + +<p>The week following I began to feel that this +was getting tiresome. Under other circumstances +it might be very pleasant, but really I began to +doubt whether I was enjoying it. But I made up +my mind that during these days of leisure I +ought to be making progress in the favor of my +mother-in-law, with whom I was destined to live, +nobody could say how many years. I couldn’t +and wouldn’t make a martyr or a hypocrite of +myself. I wouldn’t conceal my actions or deny +myself freedom. So I smoked with Fred, played +billiards, rolled ten-pins with Fred’s wife and +Miss Van, and even beguiled Bessie into that vigorous +and healthful exercise, which brought a gentle +reprimand from her mother, addressed to her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>but directed at me. She did not think that kind +of amusement becoming to ladies who had a +proper respect for themselves.</p> + +<p>“Why, mamma, Miss Van Duzen plays, and +says she thinks it jolly fun,” said Bessie innocently.</p> + +<p>“That doesn’t alter the case in the least,” was +the rejoinder. “Miss Van Duzen can judge for +herself. I don’t think it proper. Besides, your +husband’s familiar way with those ladies—one of +whom is married and no better than she ought to +be, if appearances mean anything—does not please +me at all.”</p> + +<p>“O mamma, how absurd! I see no harm in it +at all, and poor Lizzie, I am sure, never means +any harm.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, my dear, I don’t wish to say anything +about other people, and I only hope you +will never have occasion to see any harm in your +husband’s evident preference for the company of +people with loose notions about proper and becoming +behavior.”</p> + +<p>On Saturday of that week a little incident +occurred that raised me perceptibly in Mrs. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>Pinkerton’s estimation. The great, lumbering +stage-coach came up just at evening, more heavily +laden than usual, and top-heavy with trunks piled +up on the roof. The driver dashed along with his +customary recklessness, the six horses breaking +into a canter as they turned to come up the rather +steep acclivity to the house. The coach was +drawn about a foot from its usual rut, one of the +wheels struck a projecting stone, and over went +the huge vehicle, passengers, trunks, and all. The +driver took a terrible leap and was stunned. The +horses stopped and looked calmly around on the +havoc. There was great consternation in and +about the house. Here my natural self-possession +came into full play. I took command of the +situation at once, directed prompt and vigorous +efforts to the extrication of the passengers, had +the injured ones taken into the house, applied +proper restoratives, and in a few minutes ascertained +that only one was seriously hurt. She was +a young girl, who had insisted on riding outside, +higher up even than the driver. She had been +thrown headlong, striking, fortunately, on the +grass, but terribly bruising one side of her face and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>dislocating her left shoulder. In a trice I had +made her as comfortable as possible; dashed down +to the village for the nearest doctor, having had +the forethought to order a team harnessed in anticipation +of such a necessity; and, having started +the doctor up in a hurry, kept on to the neighboring +county town for a surgeon who had considerable +local reputation. I had him on the ground in +a surprisingly short time, and before bedtime the +unfortunate girl was put in the way of recovery, +having received no internal injury.</p> + +<p>My behavior in this affair, as I said, gave me a +lift in my mother-in-law’s estimation, and of course +filled Bessie with the most unbounded admiration, +though I had never thought of the moral effect +of my action. In the morning I determined to +follow up my advantage. It was Sunday again, +and I bespoke the team early, to go to the neighboring +town, where there was an Episcopal +church, and where, for that day, a distinguished +divine from the city, who was spending his vacation +in those parts, was to hold forth. When I +had announced my preparation for the religious +observance of the day, I actually received what was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>almost a smile of approval from my mother-in-law. +I enjoyed the ride, and was not greatly bored by the +service, for I was thinking of something else most +of the time, or amusing my mind with the native +congregation. We got back late to dinner, and +the rest had left the dining-room. The ladies +went in without removing their bonnets, and after +dinner retired to their rooms.</p> + +<p>As I came out on the piazza, Fred, who was +walking about in a restless way, puffing his cigar +with a sort of ferocity, as though determined to +put it through as speedily as possible, shouted, +“Hello! Charlie, old boy, where the eternal furies +have you been? Here I have been about this +dead, sleepy, stupid place all the morning, with +nothing to do and nobody to speak to!”</p> + +<p>“Why, where’s Mrs. M.?”</p> + +<p>“Lib? Oh, she’s been here, but then she was +reading a ghastly stupid novel, and wasn’t company; +and she went off to the big boarding-house +down the road half a mile, to dine with a friend. +I wouldn’t go to the blasted place, and really +think she didn’t want me to. But where in +thunder were you all the while?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>“At church, to be sure, with my wife and her +mother.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes!” was the reply, peculiarly prolonged, +as if the idea never occurred to him before. “How +long since you became so pious, old man? +Didn’t suppose you knew what the inside of a +church was used for. The outside is mainly useful +to put a clock on, where it can be seen. Old +Pink,—beg pardon! Mrs. Pinkerton,—I suppose, +dragged you along by main force.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all. I went of my own motion; in fact, +suggested it to the ladies.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say so! Well, I see she is bringing +you around. It is she that is destined to gain +the supremacy.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! Is my going to church such an indication +of submission? It wouldn’t do you any +harm to go to church once in a while, Fred.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know about that,” he said, taking +out his cigar, and stretching his feet to the top +of the balustrade; “I don’t know about that. I +am afraid it might be the ruin of me. I might +become awfully pious, and then what a stick and +a moping man of rags I should become. I tell +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>you, Charlie, my boy, there’s many a good fellow +spoilt by too much church and Sunday school.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” I replied, “but you and I are beyond +danger.”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, but you can’t be too careful of +yourself, you know.”</p> + +<p>There was no answering that, and we relapsed +into commonplace, and finished our cigars.</p> + +<p>“Where’s old Dives to-day, and his charming +niece, the lively Van?” asked Fred, after an +uncommon fit of silent contemplation.</p> + +<p>“They went over to some town thirty or forty +miles away, yesterday, and haven’t got back,” +I replied.</p> + +<p>“I tell you, that girl knows how to circumvent +these stupid Sundays, don’t she, though? And +she takes old Dives along wherever she wants to +go. I believe she would take him where the +other Dives went, if she was disposed to take a +trip there herself. But, holy Jerusalem! what +are we to do to get through the rest of the day. +No company, no billiards, no fishing. Confound +the prejudices of society. I tell you, it is just +such women as that mother-in-law of yours that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>keep society intimidated, as it were, into artificial +proprieties. Now where’s the harm of a +pleasant game on a Sunday, more than sitting +here and grumbling and cursing because there’s +nothing to do?”</p> + +<p>I made no reply, and Fred lighted another cigar. +He was evidently thinking of something. “Look +here, old fellow,” he said at length in an undertone, +something very unusual with him, “come up to +my room. You haven’t seen it. Lib won’t be back +till teatime, and perhaps we can find something to +amuse ourselves.”</p> + +<p>He led the way and I followed, thinking no +harm. His room was up stairs and on the back +of the house, looking up the great hill that stretched +back to the clouds. As we entered, I found he +had brought a good many things with him, and +given the room much the air of the quarters of a +bachelor in the city. His sleeping-room was separate +from that, and formed a sort of boudoir for his +wife. He motioned me to an easy-chair, set a box +of fine cigars on the table, and going to the closet +brought out a decanter of sherry and some glasses.</p> + +<p>“In these cursed places, you can get nothing to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>drink,” he said, “unless on the sly, and I hate that; +so I bring along my own beverages, you see.”</p> + +<p>I saw and tasted, and found it very good. He +was still fumbling about the closet, with profane +ejaculations, and finally emerged with something in +his hand that I at first took for a small book. +But he unblushingly put on the table that pasteboard +volume sometimes called the Devil’s Bible. +“Come,” he said, “where’s the harm? Let us +have a quiet game of Casino or California Jack, +or something else. It is better than perishing of +stupidity.”</p> + +<p>I demurred. I was not over-scrupulous, but I +had sufficient of my early breeding left to have a +qualm of conscience at the thought of playing +cards on Sunday.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nonsense!” said Fred, carelessly, as he +proceeded to deal the cards for Casino. “There, +you have an ace and little Casino right before you. +Go ahead, old man!”</p> + +<p>I made a feeble show of protesting, but took +up my cards, and, finding that I could capture the +ace and little Casino, took them. From that the +play went on; I became quite absorbed, and dismissed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>my scruples, when, as the sun was getting +low, a shadow passed the window.</p> + +<p>“Great Jupiter!” I exclaimed, looking up. +“Does that second-story piazza go all the way +round here?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure,” answered Fred, whose back was +to the window. “Why not? What did you +see,—a spook?”</p> + +<p>“My mother-in-law!”</p> + +<p>“The devil!”</p> + +<p>“No, Mrs. Pinkerton!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you care? You are your own +boss, I hope.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course; but she will be terribly +offended, and I think it would be pleasanter for +all concerned to keep in her good graces.”</p> + +<p>“Gammon! Assert your rights, be master of +yourself, and teach the old woman her place. +D—— me, if I would have a mother-in-law riding +over me, or prying around to see what I was about!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am sure she passed the window by accident. +She would never pry around; it isn’t her +style; she has a fine sense of propriety, has my +mother-in-law!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>“Oh, yes, old Pink is the pink of propriety, no +doubt about that!” said the rascal, laughing heartily +at his heartless pun.</p> + +<p>But I couldn’t laugh. I saw plainly enough +that I had lost more than all the ground that I had +gained in my mother-in-law’s favor, and my task +would be harder than ever. I had no more desire +to play cards, and sauntered down stairs and out +of doors as if nothing had happened. At the tea-table +Mrs. Pinkerton was very impressive in her +manner, but showed no direct consciousness of anything +new. On the piazza, after tea, she was uncommonly +affable to her daughter, and, I thought, +a little disposed to keep Bessie from talking to +me. The latter appeared troubled somewhat, and +looked at me in an anxious way, as if longing to +rush into my arms and ask me all about it and say +how willingly she forgave me; but her mother +kept her within the circle of her influence, and I +sat apart, harboring unutterable thoughts and saying +nothing. At last Mrs. Pinkerton arose, and +said sweetly, “I wouldn’t stay out any later, dear, +it is rather damp.”</p> + +<p>“Stay with me, Bessie,” I said, “I want to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>speak to you. Your mother is at liberty to go in +whenever she pleases.” It was then she gave me +a disdainful look and swept in, and I muttered +the wish regarding her transportation to a distant +clime, which brought out the gentle rebuke with +which this story opens.</p> + +<p>I saw no prospect of enjoying a longer stay at +the Fairview, unless some burglary or terrible +accident should occur to give me chance for a new +display of my heroic qualities, and even then, I +thought, it would be of no use, for I should spoil +it all next day. So we determined to go home +a week earlier than we had intended. The Marstons +were going to Canada and Lake George, and +wouldn’t reach home till October. Mr. Desmond +and his niece stayed a month longer where they +were, and that would bring them home about the +same time. Bessie and I went home with a lack +of that buoyant bliss with which we had travelled +to the mountains and spent those first two weeks. +There was no change in us, but it was all due to +my mother-in-law.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /> + +<span class="caption">WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER-IN-LAW?</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">H</span>ome!</span> We were back from the mountains, +and our brief wedding-journey had become +a thing of the past. Mrs. Pinkerton’s iron-bound +trunk had been reluctantly deposited in her bed-chamber +by a puffing and surly hack-driver; and +here was I, installed in the little cottage as head +of the household, for weal or for woe. It was +Mrs. Pinkerton’s cottage, to be sure, but I entered +it with the determination not to live there as a +boarder or as a guest subject to the proprietor’s +condescending hospitality. I was able and not unwilling +to establish a home of my own, and inasmuch +as I refrained from doing so because of Mrs. +Pinkerton’s desire to keep her daughter with her, +I had the right to consider myself under no obligation +to my mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>The cottage was far from being a disagreeable +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>place in itself. It was small, but extremely neat +and pleasant. The rooms were furnished with a +degree of quiet taste that defied criticism. The +hand of an accomplished housekeeper was everywhere +made manifest, and everything had an air +of refinement and comfort. There was no ostentatious +furniture; the chairs were made to sit in, +but not to put one’s boots on. The cleanliness of +the house was terrible. One could see that no +man had lived there since the death of the late +Pinkerton.</p> + +<p>Our room was the same that had been occupied +by Bessie since she was a school-girl in short +frocks. It was full of Bessie’s “things,” and it +was lucky that my effects occupied but very little +space.</p> + +<p>“This is jolly,” I said, as I sat down on the +edge of the bed and pulled a cigar from my +pocket. “How soon will supper be ready, I wonder?”</p> + +<p>There was no response. Bessie was unpacking,—and +such an unpacking!</p> + +<p>I lighted my cigar and threw myself back on +the bed, wondering how they had got on without +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>me at the bank. Presently in came mother-in-law +to lend a hand at the unpacking. She did not see +me at first, but the fragrance of my Manila soon +reached her nostrils, and she turned.</p> + +<p>Such a look as she cast upon me! It almost +took my breath away. But she did not say a word. +“The subject is beyond her powers of speech,” I +said to myself. “Let us hope it will be so as a +general thing.”</p> + +<p>However, it made me feel uncomfortable, so by +and by I got off the bed and went down stairs.</p> + +<p>At the supper-table I tried to make myself as +agreeable as possible. I talked over the trip, and +spoke of the people we had met at the mountains; +but I had most of the conversation to myself. +Bessie did not seem to be in a mood to chat; Mrs. +Pinkerton devoted herself to impaling me with +her eyes once in a while; in a word, the mental +atmosphere was muggy.</p> + +<p>“Desmond has travelled a great deal,” I said. +“I was speaking of French politics the other day, +and he gave me a long harangue on the situation. +He was in Paris several years, when he was a +good deal younger than he is now.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>“Mr. Desmond is not a very old man,” said +Mrs. Pinkerton, “but he has passed that age +when men think they know all there is to be +known.”</p> + +<p>I accepted this shot good-naturedly, and laughed.</p> + +<p>“His niece is a remarkably bright girl,” I continued. +“Don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say I think it either bright or proper +for a young lady to go off alone on mountain +excursions for half a day, and return with her +dress torn and her hands all scratched.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it was rather imprudent, but you know +she said she had no intention of going so far when +she started, and she missed her way.”</p> + +<p>“I did not hear her excuses. She appeared to +be a spoiled child, and her manners were insufferably +offensive. I should have known she came +from New York, even if I had not been told.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think all New-Yorkers are loud?”</p> + +<p>“I said no such thing. There is a class of New +York young people who are so ‘loud’ that respectable +people cannot have anything to do with +them without lowering themselves. Miss Van +Duzen belongs to that class.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>“You are rough on her, upon my word. I +don’t think she’s half so bad, do you, Bessie?”</p> + +<p>“I liked her very much,” said Bessie. “She +may not be our style exactly, but I think at heart +she is a good, true girl.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if she will call,” I said. “By the +way, Fred Marston is coming out to see us as +soon as he gets back to the city.”</p> + +<p>“As to that young man,” Mrs. Pinkerton +remarked, with some show of vivacity, “he +impressed me as being little less than disreputable.”</p> + +<p>“Disreputable! I would have you understand +that Fred Marston is one of my friends,” I exclaimed, +growing angry, “and he is as respectable +as the rector of St. Thomas’s Church!”</p> + +<p>Phew! Now I had done it. Mrs. Pinkerton +was thoroughly scandalized and offended. She +got up, and we left the table, Bessie looking troubled. +I went into the library, and after lighting +a cigar, sat down to read the papers. Bessie, who +had followed me, brushed the journal out of my +hand and seated herself on my knee.</p> + +<p>“Charlie,” she said, kissing me, and smoothing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>the hair away from my brow, “can’t you and +mamma ever get along any better than this?”</p> + +<p>“A conundrum! I never guessed one, so I +shall have to give this up. But don’t you see how +it is, dearest? I try to be good to her, and she +won’t meet me half-way. On the contrary, she +tries to nag me, I think. It wasn’t my fault to-night. +What right has she to run down my +friends? If she don’t like them, she might leave +them alone, and be precious sure they’d leave her +alone. She don’t like smoking; I tried to swear +off, tried mighty hard, but it was no use. You +see—”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t quite necessary for you to make that +remark about the Rev. Dr. McCanon, was it, +Charlie?”</p> + +<p>“Well, no; I’m sorry, but she provoked me to +it. I’ll apologize.”</p> + +<p>“And then, Charlie, you will try to be a little +more patient with mamma, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do try, but the trouble is that she don’t +like me. Must I keep my mouth shut, throw +away my cigars, bounce all my friends, and sit up +with my arms folded?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>“Oh, no, dear. Be good to her, and be patient; +it will all come around right in time.”</p> + +<p>That was Bessie’s way of lightening present +troubles,—“It will all come around right in +time.” Blessed hope! “Man never is, but +always to be blest.”</p> + +<p>My duties now kept me at the bank nearly all +day, and for a few weeks affairs went on at home +very smoothly. At table Mrs. Pinkerton maintained +a sphinx-like silence, and I directed my +conversation to Bessie. When the old lady +opened her mouth, it was to snub me. The snub +direct, the snub indirect, the snub implied, and +the snub far-fetched,—I submitted to all with a +cheerful spirit, and not a hasty retort escaped me.</p> + +<p>At Bessie’s request, I now smoked only in the +library, or in our own room. I bought a highly +ornamental Japanese affair, of curious workmanship, +as a receptacle for cigar-ashes. Altogether, +I behaved like a good boy.</p> + +<p>One evening Marston dropped in. When his +card was brought up stairs, I handed it over to +Bessie, and hurried to the library.</p> + +<p>“How are you, old man?” he said, or, rather, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>shouted. “How do you like it, as far as you’ve +got?”</p> + +<p>“Tip-top. I’m glad to see you. When did +you get back?”</p> + +<p>“Last Saturday, and mighty glad to get back +to a live place, too. Smoke?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Bessie will be down in a minute.”</p> + +<p>“How’s old Pink?”</p> + +<p>“S-s-h! She’s all right. Don’t speak so confoundedly +loud.”</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha! I see how it is. By and by you +won’t dare say your soul’s your own. I pity you, +Charlie, upon my word I do. Ned Tupney was +married a few days ago, did you know it? and +he’s got a devil of a mother-in-law on his hands, +a regular roarer—”</p> + +<p>“Here comes my wife,” I broke in. “For +Heaven’s sake, change the subject. Talk about +roses!”</p> + +<p>Bessie entered and exchanged a friendly greeting +with Fred.</p> + +<p>“I was telling Charlie about some wonderful +roses I saw at Primton’s green-house,” said the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>unabashed visitor, and he forthwith laid aside his +cigar—on the tablecloth!—and launched into a +glowing description of the imaginary flowers.</p> + +<p>Before he had finished, Mrs. Pinkerton entered +much to my surprise. She bowed in a stately +manner, inquired formally as to the state of +Fred’s health, and as she took a seat I saw her +glance take in that cigar.</p> + +<p>Fred could talk exceedingly well when he was +so disposed, and he entertained us excellently, I +thought. He had seen a good deal of the world, +was a close observer, and had the faculty of chatting +in a fascinating way about subjects that would +usually be called commonplace. He was pleased +with the aspect of the cottage, and complimented +it gracefully.</p> + +<p>“Love in a cottage,” he sighed, casting a quick +glance around the room,—“well, it isn’t so bad +after all, with plenty of books, a pleasant garden, +sunny rooms, a pretty view, and a mother-in-law +to look after a fellow and keep him straight.” And +the wretch looked at Mrs. Pinkerton, and laughed +in a sociable way.</p> + +<p>I promptly called his attention to a beautiful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>edition of Thackeray’s works in the bookcase, a +recent purchase.</p> + +<p>In the course of a half-hour’s call, Fred managed +to introduce the dangerous topic at least a +half-dozen times, and each time I was compelled +to choke him off by ramming some other subject +down his throat willy-nilly.</p> + +<p>Finally he rose to go. I accompanied him to +the front door.</p> + +<p>“Sociable creature, old Pink, eh?” he said. +“Doesn’t love me too well. Is she always as festive +and amusing as to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Hold on a minute,” was my reply. I ran back +and got my hat and cane, and accompanied him +toward the railroad station.</p> + +<p>“See here, Fred,” I said, “your intentions are +good, but I wish you would quit talking about +Mrs. Pinkerton. I am doing my best to live +peaceably and comfortably in the same house with +her, and you don’t help me a bit with your gabble. +She is a very worthy woman, and not half +so stupid as you imagine. I admit that we don’t +get along together quite as I could wish, but I’m +trying to please my wife by being as good a son +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>as I can be to her mother. What’s the use of +trying to rile up our little puddle?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, all right!” he rejoined. “If you prefer +your puddle should be stagnant—admirable +metaphor, by the way—it shall be as you wish. +Only I hate to see the way things are going with +you, and I’m bound to tell you so. You are +losing your spirit, tying your hands, and throwing +all your manly independence to the winds. +If you live two years with that irreproachable +mummy, you won’t be worth knowing. Do you +dare go into town with me and have a game of +billiards?”</p> + +<p>I went. We had several games. I got home +about midnight. The next morning, at the breakfast-table, +Mrs. Pinkerton said dryly,—</p> + +<p>“Your friend Marston pities you, doesn’t +he?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; if he does, he wastes his emotions,” +I replied.</p> + +<p>“I am glad you think so. He takes a good +deal of interest in your welfare, and I suppose he +could be prevailed upon to give you wise advice +in case of need.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>“I dare say. Fred is a good fellow, and advice +is as cheap as dirt.”</p> + +<p>“And pity?”</p> + +<p>“Pity! Why do you think Fred pities me? +Why should he pity me?”</p> + +<p>“Your question is hypocritical, because you +know very well that he thinks you are a victim,—a +victim of a terrible mother-in-law.”</p> + +<p>It was the first time she had ever spoken out so +openly. I said,—</p> + +<p>“We will leave it to Bessie. Bessie, do I look +like a victim?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Bessie, “but you are both the queerest +puzzles! Mamma is always her dearest self when +you are away, Charlie. You don’t know each other +at all yet. When you are together you are both +horrid, and when you are apart you are both lovely. +And yet I don’t know why it should be so; there +is no quarrel between you—and—and—”</p> + +<p>And Bessie began to cry. I got up.</p> + +<p>“No, there’s no quarrel between us,” I said; +“but perhaps a straight-out row would be better +than forever to be eating our own vitals with suppressed +rancor.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>Mrs. Pinkerton made as if she would go around +to where Bessie sat, to condole with her, without +noticing my remark.</p> + +<p>“No, don’t trouble yourself,” I cried. “It’s my +place to comfort my wife.” And I took Bessie in +my arms tenderly, and kissed her tear-stained +cheek almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>This theatrical demonstration caused my mother-in-law +to sweep out of the room promptly, with +her temper as nearly ruffled as I had ever seen it.</p> + +<p>“O Charlie!” whimpered my poor little wife +despairingly, “what shall I do? It’s awful to +have you and mamma this way!”</p> + +<p>And now it was my turn to say, “Cheer up, my +love! It will all come around right in time.”</p> + +<p>But my <i>arrière pensée</i> was, “Would that that +burglar had bagged the old iceberg, and carried +her off to her native Nova Zembla!”</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /> + +<span class="caption">MISS VAN’S PARTY AND ANOTHER UNPLEASANTNESS.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">O</span>ne</span> day in the early fall, Mrs. Pinkerton +received a letter postmarked at Paris, which +seemed to throw her into a state of extraordinary +excitement. I knew her well enough to be certain +that she would not tell me the news, but that +I should hear it later through Bessie. Such was +the case. When I came home towards evening +and went up stairs to prepare for supper, Bessie, +who was seated in our room, said in a joyful +tone,—</p> + +<p>“George is coming home next month!”</p> + +<p>“That’s good,” I said; and the more I thought +of it the better it seemed. A new element would +be infused into our home life with his advent, +and I confidently believed that the widow’s society +would be vastly more tolerable when he was +among us. George had been so long in Paris that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>he had become a veritable Parisian. That he +would bring along with him a large amount of Paris +sunshine and vivacity to enliven the atmosphere of +our little circle, I felt certain.</p> + +<p>“Is he coming to stay?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“He don’t know. He says he never makes any +plans for six months ahead. It will depend upon +circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s Parisian. I’m very glad he’s +coming, and I hope circumstances will keep him +here. Isn’t old Dr. Jones pretty nearly dead? +Seems to me George could take his practice.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Charlie!”</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, puss; doctors must die as well +as their patients.”</p> + +<p>I broached the subject to mother-in-law at the +supper-table, and—<i>mirabile dictu!</i>—she agreed +with me that we must keep George with us when +we got him.</p> + +<p>In November George arrived. He didn’t telegraph +from New York, but came right on by a +night train, and, walking into the house while we +were at breakfast, took us by surprise.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton taken by surprise was a funny +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>phenomenon, and I’m afraid propriety received a +pretty smart blow when she threw her napkin into +a plate of buckwheat cakes, dropped her eye-glasses, +and rushed to meet the long-lost prodigal.</p> + +<p>As for George, he brought such a gale into the +house with him—there are plenty of them on the +Atlantic in November—that everything seemed +metamorphosed. He laughed and shouted, and +hugged first one of us and then another, and +finally sat down and ate breakfast enough for six +Frenchmen, every minute ripping out some wicked +little French oath and winking at his mother with +the utmost complacency. Never since I had +become an inmate of the cottage had we enjoyed +a meal so much as that one. There was an +<i>abandon</i>, an <i>insouciance</i>, an <i>esprit</i>, a <i>je-ne-sais-quoi</i> +about this young frog-eater that thoroughly +carried away the whole party, including even Mrs. +Pinkerton.</p> + +<p>When George had eaten everything he could +find on the table, he lighted a cigarette,—right +there in the dining-room, too, and under his +mother’s eyes,—and we had a good, long, jolly +talk together, Bessie sitting between us and feasting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>her eyes on her brother’s comeliness. He +certainly was handsome.</p> + +<p>“I have no plans,” he said, “except to loaf here +awhile and wait for an opening.”</p> + +<p>“A French Micawber,” said I. “And I suppose +you know all about medicine and surgery?”</p> + +<p>“I have learned when not to give medicine, I +believe, and so, I think, I can save lots of lives.”</p> + +<p>A few days after George’s arrival we received +a call from the Watsons. I had never had the +pleasure of meeting the Watsons, but I had had +the Watsons held up before me as examples of the +right sort of style so many times, that I felt already +well acquainted with them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watson was a very retiring, quiet little +man, awed into obscurity by his wife. After a +long and persistent effort to interest him in conversation, +I was compelled to give it up, and to +leave him smiling blankly, with his gaze directed +toward the Argand burner.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Watson was immense in every sense of +the word. Her moral and mental dimensions +were awe-inspiring; and she delivered what I afterwards +found, on reflection, to be very commonplace +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>utterances in a style in which unction, +dogmatism, self-satisfaction, and finality were predominant. +Once, when she had brought forth an +unusually imposing sentence, her husband fairly +smacked his lips.</p> + +<p>The Watsons had no children. They were +among the most prominent attendants of St. +Thomas’s, and the old gentleman was reputed to +be worth about a million.</p> + +<p>George came in while the call was in progress, +and after greeting the Watsons, he turned to Mrs. +W., and uttered one of the most polished, delicate, +pleasing little compliments it has ever been +my fortune to hear uttered. Then he quietly withdrew +into the background.</p> + +<p>Just then some more callers were announced, +and what was my surprise to see Mr. Desmond +and Miss Van Duzen enter. The former was as +resplendent as to his watch-chain as ever, and his +niece looked charming. Introductions all round +followed, and the company broke up into groups.</p> + +<p>George took a seat near Miss Van, and a brisk fire +of conversation was soon under way between them, +varied by frequent bursts of friendly laughter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>Mr. Desmond soon drew out Mr. Watson, and +their talk was on stocks, bonds, and the like.</p> + +<p>After Mrs. Watson had proved her theory of +the laws of the universe, and had almost intoxicated +my worthy mother-in-law with her glittering +rhetoric, the Watsons took their departure. Before +the others followed their example, Miss Van +extended an informal invitation to us to attend a +“social gathering” at her uncle’s residence the +following Wednesday evening.</p> + +<p>We went, of course, Mrs. Pinkerton, George, +Bessie, and I. It was a pleasant party, and it +could not have been otherwise with Miss Van as +the hostess. There was a little dancing,—not +enough to entitle it to be called a dancing-party; +a little card-playing,—not enough to make it a +card-party; and there was a vast amount of bright +and pleasant conversation, but still one could not +name it a <i>converzatione</i>. The company was remarkably +good, and Miss Van’s management, +although imperceptible, was so skilful that her +guests found themselves at their ease, and enjoying +themselves, without knowing that their pleasure +was more than half due to her <i>finesse</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>George was quite a lion, and I envied his easy +tact, his unconscious grace of manner, and his +faculty of saying bright things without effort. He +and Miss Van got on famously together, and she +found him an efficient and trustworthy aid in her +capacity as hostess.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton made a lovely wall-flower, and +I could not refrain from a wicked chuckle when I +saw her sitting on a sofa, exchanging commonplaces +with a puffing dowager. Presently, however, +I noticed that she had gone, and I found +that Mr. Desmond had been kind enough to +relieve me from the onerous duty of taking her +down to supper.</p> + +<p>I wish I had a printed bill of fare of that supper, +for even George, fresh from Véfour’s and the +Trois Frères Provençaux, acknowledged that it +was sublime, magnificent, perfect. We men folks, +in fact, talked so much about it afterwards, that +Bessie rebuked us by remarking that “men didn’t +care about anything so much as eating.”</p> + +<p>As Fred Marston remarked to me, while helping +himself a third time to the salad, “It’s a stunning +old lay-out, isn’t it!” His wife was there, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>dressed “to kill,” as he himself said, and dancing +with every gentleman she could decoy into asking +her.</p> + +<p>After we had come up from the supper-room, +Fred Marston pulled me into a corner, and inflicted +on me a volley of stinging observations +about the people in the room. George, Bessie, +Mrs. Pinkerton, and Miss Van were, I supposed, +in one of the other rooms; I had lost sight of +them.</p> + +<p>“Old Jenks lost a cool hundred thousand fighting +the tiger at Saratoga, this last summer,” said +Fred. “I had it from a man who backed him. +Do you know that young widow talking with him +near the end of the piano? No? Why, that’s +Mrs. Delascelles, and a devil of a little piece she +is,—twice divorced and once widowed, and she +isn’t a day over twenty-five. You ought to know +her. By the way, that brother of yours is a +whole team, with a bull-pup under the wagon. +Does he let old Pink boss him around as she does +you?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a fine night,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Delightful! I say, Charlie, it must be a terrible +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>bore to lug the old woman around to all these +shindigs with you, hey?”</p> + +<p>“What do you think about the State election?” +I demanded.</p> + +<p>“The Republicans have got a dead sure thing, +I’ll lay you a V. She has bulldozed you till you +don’t dare open your head, my boy. Yours is +one of the saddest and most malignant cases of +mother-in-law I ever struck.”</p> + +<p>“Fred,” I said, in hopes of bringing his tirade +to an end, “your friendship is slightly oppressive. +Confine your attentions to your own grievances. +I will take care of mine.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! at last you acknowledge that you have +one. Confess, now, that old Pink is a confounded +nuisance!”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, yes, she is! Does that satisfy +you, scandal-monger? Now, for Heaven’s sake, +shut up!”</p> + +<p>I heard a brisk rustling of silk just at my left +and a little back of where I sat, and some one +passed toward the front parlor.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” ejaculated Fred, looking intently. +“It’s old Pink herself, and I hope she got the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>benefit of what we said about her. I had no +idea she was sitting near us.”</p> + +<p>“What <i>we</i> said about her!” I repeated. “I +didn’t say anything about her.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you did. Ha, ha! You said she was a +confounded nuisance!”</p> + +<p>I shuddered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, brace up! Perhaps she didn’t hear +that impious remark,” said Fred, chuckling maliciously. +“Or if she did, perhaps she’ll let you +off easy: only a few hours in the dark closet, +or bread and water for a day or two.”</p> + +<p>“Confound your mischief-making tongue!” I +growled. “Here comes Miss Van Duzen to bid +you quit spreading scandal about her guests.”</p> + +<p>Miss Van Duzen, on the contrary, only wished +Mr. Marston to secure a partner for the Lanciers, +which he promptly did.</p> + +<p>I sat brooding while the dancing went on, and +was somewhat astonished, when it was over, to +see George making for my corner.</p> + +<p>“How’s this?” he said. “Didn’t you go home +with them?”</p> + +<p>“With them? What! You don’t mean to say—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>“But I do, though! Bessie and mother made +their adieux half an hour ago, and I thought of +course you had gone home with them, as nothing +was said to me. This is a pretty go! Bessie +must have been ill.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” I exclaimed. “I should have +known if that was the case. Where’s Miss Van?”</p> + +<p>“I saw her. She thought it was odd, but supposed +you had gone with them. What could have +started them off in that fashion?”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, don’t let’s stand here talking. +Come on.”</p> + +<p>We did not stop for ceremony. Rushing up +stairs, we donned our hats and coats, and made +our way out to the sidewalk without losing any +time. I hailed a carriage, and we drove rapidly +out of town. It was about half past one o’clock +when we arrived home. There were lights in our +room and in Mrs. Pinkerton’s chamber. George +followed me up stairs, and I tapped at the door of +our room.</p> + +<p>“Is it you, Charlie?” said Bessie’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes,—and George.”</p> + +<p>She opened the door. It was evidently not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>long since their arrival home, for she had not +begun to undress.</p> + +<p>“Explain, for our benefit, the new method of +leaving a party,” said George, “and why it was +deemed necessary to give us a scare in inaugurating +the same.” He threw himself into an easy-chair.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps Mr. Travers is better able to tell you +why mother should have left in the way she did,” +said Bessie, trying to make her speech sound sarcastic +and cutting, but finding it a difficult job, +with her breath coming and going so quickly.</p> + +<p>“The deuce he is!” roared George. “Come, +Charlie, what have you been up to? I must get it +out of some of you.”</p> + +<p>“I am utterly unable to tell you why your +mother should have left in the way she did,” was +all I could find to say.</p> + +<p>“Sapristi! This is getting mysterious and +blood-curdling. The latest <i>feuilleton</i> is nothing to +it. Must I go to bed without knowing the cause +of this escapade? Well, so be it. But let me +tell you, young woman, that it wasn’t the thing +to do. If you find your husband flirting with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>some siren, you must lead him off by the ear next +time, but don’t sulk. Good night.”</p> + +<p>George walked out and shut the door after him.</p> + +<p>“See here, Bessie,” I said kindly, “don’t cry, +because I want to talk sensibly with you.”</p> + +<p>She was sobbing now in good earnest.</p> + +<p>“I want you to tell me what your mother said +to you about me.”</p> + +<p>She couldn’t talk just then, poor little woman! +But when she had had her cry partly out, she +told me.</p> + +<p>Her mother had not told her a word of what +had passed between Fred Marston and me! The +outraged dignity of the widow would not admit of +an explicit account of the unspeakable insult she +had received. She had simply given Bessie to +understand that I had uttered some unpardonable, +infamous slander, and had hustled the poor girl +breathlessly into a cab and away, before she fairly +realized what had happened.</p> + +<p>I then told Bessie what our conversation had +been, and left her to judge for herself. I had not +the heart to scold her for her part in the French +leave-taking, though it made me feel miserable to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>think how few episodes of such a sort might bring +about endless misunderstandings and heart-aches.</p> + +<p>Of course more or less talk was caused by the +mysterious manner of our several departures from +Miss Van’s party; and, thanks to Fred Marston +and his wife and similar rattle-pates, it became +generally known that there was a skeleton in the +Pinkerton closet.</p> + +<p>Miss Van soon heard how it came about, and +nothing could have afforded a more complete +proof of her refinement of character than the delicacy +and tact with which she ignored the whole +affair.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> + +<span class="caption">ANOTHER CHARLIE IN THE FIELD.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> winter, with its petty trials and contentions, +had gone by; spring, with its bloom and +fragrance, was far advanced; and already another +summer, with its possible pleasures and recreations, +was close upon us. Before it had fairly set +in, however, an event of extraordinary importance +was to occur in our little household. There had +been premonitions of it for some time, which had +a tendency to soften and soothe all asperities, +and cause a rather sober and subdued air to pervade +the little cottage, and now there were active +preparations going on. Of course, the widow was +gradually assuming the management of the whole +affair, and it was a matter in which I could hardly +venture to dispute her right. Her experience and +knowledge were certainly superior to mine, and it +was an affair in which these qualities were very +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>important. In fact, I seemed to be counted out +altogether in the preparations, as if it was something +in the nature of a surprise party in my +honor. Mrs. Pinkerton had an air of mysterious +and exclusive knowledge concerning the grand +event. Miss Van, who had come to have confidential +relations with Bessie, of the most intimate +kind, notwithstanding the mother’s objections, +knew all about it, but had a queer way of appearing +unconscious of anything unusual. There +seemed to be a general consent to a shallow pretence +that I was in utter and hopeless ignorance. +It annoyed me a little, as I flattered myself that I +knew quite as much about what was coming as any +of them, and I thought it silly to make believe I +didn’t, and to ignore my interest in the affair. +Bessie had no secrets from me, of course, and our +understanding was complete, but one might have +thought from appearances that we had less concern +in the matter than anybody else.</p> + +<p>As the auspicious time drew near, the goings-on +increased in mystery and the widow’s control +grew more and more complete. Bessie showed +me one day a wardrobe that amused me immensely. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>It was quite astonishing in its extent +and variety, but so liliputian in the dimensions of +the separate garments as to seem ridiculous to +me.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t they cunning?” said the dear girl, holding +up one after another of the various articles of +raiment. Then she showed me a basket, marvellously +constructed, with a mere skeleton of wicker-work +and coverings of pink silk and fine lace, and +furnished with toilet appliances that seemed to +belong to a fairy; and finally, removing a big quilt +that had excited my curiosity, she showed me the +most startling object of all,—a cradle! I had seen +such things before and felt no particular thrill, but +this had a strange effect upon me. I didn’t stop +to inquire how these things had all been smuggled +into the house without my knowledge or consent, +but kissed my little wife fondly, and went down +stairs in a musing and pensive mood.</p> + +<p>The next day a decree of virtual exile was pronounced +upon me. My mother-in-law thought +perhaps it would be better if I would occupy +another room in the house for a time, and let her +share Bessie’s chamber. The poor, dear girl +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>might need her care at any time, and the widow +looked at me as much as to say, “You cannot be +expected to know anything about these matters, +and have nothing to do but obey my directions.” +I consented without a murmur or the least show +of resistance, for I admitted everything that could +possibly be said, and lost all my spirit of independence +in view of the impressive event that was +coming. So I meekly took to the attic, and put +up with the most forlorn and desolate quarters. +One or two mornings after, I was aroused at an +inhuman hour, and ordered in the most imperative +tones to call in Dr. Lyman as quickly as possible, +and haste after Mrs. Sweet. I hurried into my +clothes in the utmost agitation, raced down the +street in a manner that led a watchful policeman +to stop me and inquire my business, rung up the +doctor with the most unbecoming violence, and +delivered my errand up a speaking-tube, in answer +to his muffled, “What’s wanted?” Then I +rushed to the neighboring stable, and got up the +sleepy hostler with as much vehemence in my +manner as if he were in danger of being burned +to death, and induced him to harness a team, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>in what I considered about twice the necessary +length of time; drove three miles in the morning +twilight for Mrs. Sweet, a motherly old maid in +the nursing business, who had officiated at Bessie’s +own <i>début</i> upon the stage of life. When I +had got back and returned the team to the stable, +and was walking about the lower rooms in a restless +manner, feeling as if I had suddenly become +a hopeless outcast, the doctor came down stairs, +and said, with amazing calmness, as though it +was the most commonplace thing in the world,—</p> + +<p>“Getting on nicely. Fine boy, sir! Mrs. Travers +is quite comfortable. Will look in again in +the course of the morning.”</p> + +<p>Then I was left alone again, an outcast and a +wanderer in my own home. All the life was up +stairs, including the wee bit of new life that had +come to venture upon the perils and vicissitudes +of the great world. It was two hours, but it +seemed a month, before any one relieved my solitude, +and then it was at Bessie’s interposition—in +fact, a command that she had to insist upon until +her mother was afraid of her getting excited—that +I was admitted to behold the mysteries above.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>Well, it is nobody’s business about the particulars +of that chamber. It was too sacred for +description; but there was the tiny, quivering, +red new-comer, already dressed in some of the +dainty liliputian garments, and very much astonished +and not altogether pleased at the effect. +Bessie was proud and happy, the nurse, moving +about silently, knew just what to do and how to do +it, and the mother-in-law held supreme command. +She was grand and severe, and evidently her wishes +had been disregarded in respect to the sex of +her grandchild. She feared the consequences of +another Charlie launched into a world already too +degenerate, and she had hoped for an addition to +the superior sex. But Bessie and I were mightily +pleased that it was a boy.</p> + +<p>There was little to be said then, but in a few +days the restraint began to be relaxed, and discussions +arose about what had become the most important +member of the household. Even the +widow must be content with the second place +now, but I began to have misgivings lest my +position had been permanently fixed as the third. +In my secret mind, however, I determined to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>assert my rights as soon as Bessie was strong +again, and reduce my mother-in-law to the position +in which she belonged. I had put off doing it too +long, and advantage might be taken of the present +juncture of affairs to strengthen her claim to +supremacy, and it really wouldn’t do to delay +much longer.</p> + +<p>“I think he looks just like Charlie,” said Bessie +to Miss Van, the first time the latter called after +the great event.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” was the reply. “It +seems to me he has his papa’s dark eyes, but I +can’t see any other resemblance.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I do!” Bessie replied with spirit. “Why, +it is just his forehead and mouth, and his hair will +be just the same beautiful brown when he grows +up.”</p> + +<p>The old lady was looking on reproachfully, and +finally said, “Bessie, my dear, that child looks +precisely like your own family. George at his +age was just such an infant; you couldn’t tell +them apart.”</p> + +<p>George entered the room at that moment, and +with his boisterous laugh said, “You don’t mean +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>to say that I was ever such a little, soft, ridiculous +lump of humanity as that, do you?”</p> + +<p>“As like as two peas,” was the reply of his +mother.</p> + +<p>For my part I kept out of the discussion, for I +must confess I could see no resemblance between +the precious baby and any other mortal creature, +except another baby of the same age. I thought +they looked pretty much all alike, and was not +prepared to deny that it was the exact counterpart +of anybody at that particular stage of development.</p> + +<p>“I tell you what, Bess,” said George, after the +debate had fully subsided, “you must name that +little chap for me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” replied the proud mother, “that is +all settled; his name is Charlie.”</p> + +<p>Nothing had been said on the subject before, +and I was a little startled at Bessie’s positive manner, +for I thought even this matter would not be +free from her mother’s dictation. The old lady +seemed surprised and vexed. “George is a much +better name, I think,” she said very quietly, keeping +down her vexation, “but I thought perhaps +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>you might remember your dear father in this +matter. His name, you know, was Benjamin.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,” said Bessie, very firmly, “but I +think there is one with a still higher claim, and +the child’s name is Charles.”</p> + +<p>“Good for you, little girl!” I thought, but I +said nothing. Within me I felt a gleeful satisfaction +at Bessie’s spirit, which showed that if it ever +came to a sharp contest with her mother, nothing +could keep her from holding her own place by +her husband’s side. All my misgivings about +her possible estrangement by her mother’s influence +vanished, and I saw that the new tie +between us would be stronger than any earthly +power.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said George abruptly, after a pause, “I +wouldn’t be so disobliging about a little thing like +that.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! you wait until you can afford the opportunity +of furnishing names, and see what you will +do,” I said jokingly. My joke was not generally +appreciated. The widow gave me a look a little +short of savage. Bessie suppressed a smile, in +order to give me a reproof with her eyes, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>Miss Van just then thought of something wholly +irrelevant to say, as if she had not noticed my +remark at all. On the whole, I was made to feel +that it was a disgraceful failure.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /> + +<span class="caption">THE SHADOW ON OUR LIFE.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">A</span>nother</span> summer with all its glory was upon +us. It was nearly a year since we were married, +and I was beginning to feel the dignity of +a family man. As Bessie regained her strength +and bloom, she seemed to have a matronly grace +and self-command quite new to her. As I looked +back over our married life I saw no dark shadows, +no coldness between us two, no misunderstandings +that need occasion regret, but somehow +it seemed as though that year had not been so +bright and happy as it ought to have been. We +had lived under an irksome restraint that was +depressing. I had felt it more than Bessie, for +she had been accustomed to submit to her mother, +and did not chafe, but she plainly saw that my +life had not that blithesomeness that would have +been natural to me, and which she would have +been glad to give it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>It was the presence and influence of the mother-in-law +that gave a chill to my home life, and yet I +could accuse the good woman of no special offence. +She was no vulgar meddler, and never wished or +intended to mar our domestic felicity. She had +managed to keep control of our household arrangements +and we had passively acquiesced, but I felt +that it would be better if Bessie would take command +and cater more to our own desires. We +could then have things our own way, and her +position would be more becoming as the lady of +the house. She began to regard it in the same +light herself. Our social life, too, had been restrained +and restricted. I was very fond of having +my friends about me, and wished them to come +in for the evening or to dinner or to pass a Sunday +afternoon in our little bower, as often as they +could find it agreeable. Mrs. Pinkerton made no +open objections, but I knew the company of my +friends was not congenial to her, and so was reluctant +and backward in my invitations to them. +Besides, they were apt to be chilled and disconcerted +by the widow’s stately presence and rebuking +ways, and were disinclined to make themselves +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>quite at home with us. Fred Marston and +his wife had been quite driven away. Mrs. Pinkerton +had declined to speak to the latter, and +had told the former in plain terms that he used +language of which no gentleman would be guilty.</p> + +<p>“By thunder!” roared the impulsive fellow, “I’ll +have you to understand that my wife and I are +just as good as you, with your cursed airs of superiority!” +and he stormed out of doors, and incontinently +returned to town. When I met him afterwards +he condescendingly declared that he didn’t +blame me, except that I ought to be a man and not +allow “old Pink” to insult my guests. I did not +particularly regret his discontinuing his visits, for, +to tell the truth, I did not like his manners, and +he had drifted into a circle and among associates +not at all to my taste, but it galled me to have +any one whom I chose to entertain driven out of +my house.</p> + +<p>I think nothing saved our charming friend, Miss +Van Duzen, to whom we had both become greatly +attached, from being gracefully snubbed and insulted, +except the presence of her uncle, whenever +she came out to visit us in the evening. Mr. Desmond’s +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>indisputable social rank, his unimpeachable +demeanor as a gentleman, and the dignity and +impressiveness of his presence, though it could by +no means overawe my mother-in-law, made it impossible +even for her to give him an affront. +Besides, she seemed to have a real respect for +that fine old gentleman. She would doubtless +have thought better of him if he had been a regular +attendant at St. Thomas’s Church, but she could +not learn that he was very constant at any sanctuary. +His views were decidedly what are called +liberal, and yet he was very considerate of the religious +beliefs and practices of others, and would +cheerfully acknowledge the worthy aims and good +works of all the different Christian denominations. +He seemed to understand why other persons should +choose to join one or another, while he preferred +to stand aloof, have his own ways of thinking, and +do whatever good he might in his own way. He +had large business interests and great wealth, and +though he maintained his mansion in the city in +great elegance, his family expenses were comparatively +small, and he was reputed to make it up +fully by supporting more than one poor family in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>a quiet way. He was liberal in his conduct as +well as his belief, and his character and habits +were above the reproach of the severest critic. +Hence it was that the widow was forced to respect +at least this one of our visitors, and to treat his +niece with common civility, though cordiality was +out of the question.</p> + +<p>In fact, we owed to Mr. Desmond not a little +for what relief we obtained in our social life +from the chilling restraints of the mother-in-law’s +presence. He seemed to take a real pleasure in +coming out to our little snuggery. His stately +establishment in town could not be very home-like. +His niece presided over it with great skill, +and saw that every wish or taste of his was gratified. +She could always entertain him with her +sprightly wit, and their social occasions were +among the most elegant in the city. He had his +club to go to, which furnished every means that +ingenuity and lavish resources could contrive to +minister to the pleasures of man. And yet, there +was wanting to his life that element that was +the essence of home. He had longed for it when +he was young, and had provided for it in his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>household; but the wife of his youth had been +called from him early, and he had vainly tried to +fill all his life with business, with silent works of +charity, with elegance and profusion in his house, +with his clubs, his studies, and his travels; but +still there was a void, and when he came to visit +us, he seemed to find something akin to the home +feeling in our little circle. So he came far oftener +than was to be expected of one in his position. +Clara was his excuse, but it was plain to see that +he liked to come on his own account, and he made +himself very agreeable to us all; and when he +came, we noticed the chilling influence of Mrs. +Pinkerton much less than when he was not there.</p> + +<p>Sometimes we had a whist party. It was +generally Bessie and I against Clara and George, +but the widow had no objection to whist and was +occasionally induced to take a hand, while Mr. +Desmond was quite fond of the game and was a +consummate player. When we young people +made up the set, Mr. Desmond would converse +with the widow, for though reticent where politeness +did not call upon him to talk, he was incapable +of the rudeness of sitting silent with one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>other person, or in a small party of intimate +friends; and these conversations, showing his +wide information on all manner of subjects, his +sympathy with all charitable movements, and his +tolerant regard even for the widow’s pet ideas +on church and society, evidently increased her +respect for him.</p> + +<p>George must not be forgotten as a member of +our circle, and never can be by those who were in +it. His vivacity did much to relieve us from the +depression that brooded over us. He and Clara +Van, as he had taken to calling her as a sort of +play upon caravan,—for was she not a whole +team in herself? he would say,—he and Clara had +many a lively contest of words, and were well +matched in their powers of wit and repartee.</p> + +<p>Thus there were lights as well as shades, +relief as well as depression, in our social life, but +over it all was a shadow, the shadow of my +mother-in-law.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br /> + +<span class="caption">MY MOTHER-IN-LAW SUBDUED.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">A</span>s</span> I was saying, I made up my mind that our +happiness was marred by habitual submission +to mother-in-law, and I determined to shake +off the nightmare, to assert myself, and to reduce +that stately crown of gray puffs to a subordinate +place. How was I to do it? There was nothing +that I could make the cause of direct complaint, +and it was hard to get into a downright conflict +which would involve plain speaking. I consulted +with Bessie, and she agreed with me, and promised +to assume the direction of household affairs. She +did not like to hurt her mother’s feelings, but she +admitted that it was best for her to be mistress. +I could but admire the matronly firmness and tact +with which she played her part. She gave her +orders and told her mother what she proposed to +do, and then proceeded to execute it as if there +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>was no room for question. If opposition was +made, she very quietly and firmly insisted. Her +mother was astonished and had some warm words, +in which she accused me of trying to set her +daughter against her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said Bessie, “Charlie does not wish to +set me against you or to have you made unhappy, +but he thinks it better that I should be the mistress +here, and I quite agree with him, and propose +henceforth to be the mistress.”</p> + +<p>The widow was not offended, but hurt. She +had too much good sense not to see the propriety +of our decision, and she surrendered and tried +not to appear affected.</p> + +<p>This was the first victory. Another time, at +the table, she had exercised her prescriptive right +of extinguishing me for some remark of which she +did not approve. I fired up and remarked, “I +have the right to speak my own opinion in my +own house, Mrs. Pinkerton.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly you have a right to speak your own +opinion in your own house,” she replied, with +the least little sarcastic emphasis on “your own +house,” which cut me to the quick.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>“But you don’t seem to think so,” I said. +“You have had a way of snubbing me and putting +me down which I don’t propose to tolerate +any longer. I am master of my own conduct and +of my own household, and I hope, in future, that +my liberty may not be interfered with.”</p> + +<p>The widow’s lip quivered, her great eyes moistened, +and she left the table, not because she was +offended, but to hide her injured feelings. I felt +mean, and would have apologized, but that I felt +that my cause was at stake. There was no after-explanation. +My mother-in-law came and went +about the house as usual, calm and polite. A silly +woman would have refused to speak to me for +some weeks; but she was not a silly woman, and +took pains to speak with the most studied politeness, +and to avoid offence. Here, too, she had +evidently surrendered.</p> + +<p>This was victory number two. One more and +the battle was won. It was a Sunday in June. +I had especially invited Mr. Desmond and his +niece to come out to dinner and to spend the +afternoon, and had insisted to Fred Marston +that he should come with his wife. I wanted to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>vindicate my right to have what friends I pleased, +and then I didn’t care overmuch if I never saw +him again. Mrs. Pinkerton had gone to church +alone as usual. For some weeks Bessie had been +unable to accompany her, and I preferred the +sanctuary at which the scholarly, but heterodox, +Mr. Freeman preached. When she returned, our +guests had arrived. She put on her eye-glasses +as she entered the gate, and looked about with +evident disapproval, as we were scattered over the +lawn. She did not believe in Sunday visits. She +was even stiff and distant to Mr. Desmond, and +refused to see the Marstons at all, though they +were directly before her eyes. She walked +straight into the house.</p> + +<p>“By Jove,” said George to me in an undertone, +“that isn’t right! I shall speak to mother about +cutting your guests in that way.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” I replied, “don’t you say a +word; I want an opportunity.”</p> + +<p>He saw it in a minute, and acquiesced with a +queer smile. He fully sympathized with me, and +had even encouraged me in the work of emancipation. +He had the utmost respect and affection for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>his mother, but he said it was not right for her to +make my home unpleasant.</p> + +<p>That Sunday Mrs. Pinkerton joined us at the +dinner-table. I knew she would not be guilty of +the incivility of staying away.</p> + +<p>“You remember my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Marston?” +I said, by way of introduction, as she came +in.</p> + +<p>“I remember them very well,” was the reply; +“too well,” the tone implied. I made a special +effort to be talkative, and to keep others talking +during the dinner. It was very hard work, and +I met with indifferent success. It was not a pleasant +dinner. Mr. Desmond alone appeared not to +mind the restraint, and he alone ventured to +address the widow. She was polite, but far from +sociable. We contrived to pass the afternoon +tolerably, but not at all in the spirit which I +wished to have prevail when I had friends to visit +me, and all because of that presence.</p> + +<p>After they were gone, I took occasion to introduce +the subject, for I had learned that Mrs. +Pinkerton’s skill in expressing her disapproval in +her manner was so great that she relied on it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>almost altogether, and rarely resorted to words +for the purpose.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you did not enjoy the company +very much to-day,” I said, as we were sitting in +the little parlor, overlooking an exquisite flower +garden.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” she answered, with the old emphasis +on the “sir.” “I do not approve of company on +the Sabbath, and I had hoped you would never +again bring those Marstons into my presence at +any time.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, madam; but I propose to be my +own judge of whom I shall invite to visit me, and +of the time and occasion. I presume you admit +my right to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir. I never disputed it, and had +no intention of saying anything if you had not +introduced the subject.”</p> + +<p>“I introduced the subject for the very purpose; +in fact, I brought out the company for the very +purpose of vindicating my right, and it would be +very gratifying to me if you would concede it +cheerfully, and not, by your manner and way of +treating my friends, interfere with it hereafter.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>I was almost astonished at my own courage +and spirit, and still more so at Mrs. Pinkerton’s +reply. It was dusky and I could not see her face, +but her voice trembled and choked as she answered,—</p> + +<p>“God knows I do not wish to interfere with +your happiness. Bessie’s happiness has been my +one thought for years, and now it is bound up +with yours. I have my own notions, which I cannot +easily discard, but I would not do or say anything +that would mar your enjoyment for the +world. I have long felt that I did do so, and +have made up my mind to make any sacrifice of +pride and inclination to avoid it.”</p> + +<p>Here she actually broke down and sobbed, and +I was very near joining her. “Never mind,” I +said at length, quite softened; “I guess we shall +get along pleasantly together in the future, now +that we have an understanding.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so,” she said, recovering her serenity, +and we relapsed into a painful silence.</p> + +<p>This was the third and final victory, but I felt +no elation over it. My mother-in-law receded +somewhat into the background, but it was so much +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>in sorrow, rather than anger, that I felt her new +mood almost as depressing as the old. I didn’t +want her to feel injured or subdued, but evidently +she couldn’t help it, and the mother-in-law, +though conquered, was herself still, and that congeniality +that would make our life together wholly +pleasant was impossible. Her existence was still +a shadow, less chilling and more pensive, but a +shadow in our home, and it seemed destined to +stay there.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br /> + +<span class="caption">GEORGE’S NEW DEPARTURE.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="floatleft">“</span><span class="dropcap">G</span>eorge</span> is growing very restless. I don’t +know what ails him,” Bessie said to me.</p> + +<p>“I can guess,” I said, looking wise.</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Do you remember what an uneasy, good-for-nothing +chap one Charlie Travers was, when he +first began to call on a certain young woman with +conspicuous regularity?”</p> + +<p>“O Charlie, you don’t think he—”</p> + +<p>“No, no! Now don’t explode too suddenly. +I wouldn’t have him know that I suspect anything +for the world. We won’t name any names, but I +keep my eyes about me, and I flatter myself I +know the symptoms.”</p> + +<p>And with these mysterious words, I started for +the bank, leaving to Bessie a new and delightful +subject for speculation and air-castle building.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>George did not come home to supper that day, +but that was nothing extraordinary. I was sitting +out on the porch, smoking after the meal, and +saw him coming up the street.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been?” I asked, as he joined +me and took a seat.</p> + +<p>“None of your business. In town.”</p> + +<p>“Is Miss Van well?” I asked mischievously.</p> + +<p>“How should I know?”</p> + +<p>“Come, George, you don’t play the part of +Innocence over well. Suppose you try Candor, +and tell me where you have been.”</p> + +<p>“You mistake my identity. I’m not your +baby. You will find the youthful Charlie entertaining +his mother up stairs.”</p> + +<p>A long-drawn-out, agonized wail, proceeding +from the regions above, showed how Bessie was +being entertained.</p> + +<p>“No opening yet?” I ventured to ask, changing +the subject.</p> + +<p>“Not the slightest prospect. If some of these +doctors could only be inveigled into taking some +of their own prescriptions! But no; they are too +wise.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>“The bitterness of your tone would seem to +indicate that you have not enjoyed your visit to +the town.”</p> + +<p>“The town be hanged, and the country too! +Let’s take a walk down the street. Give me a +cigar, confound you! How hot it is!”</p> + +<p>We strolled down the street.</p> + +<p>“This is a terrible vale of tears, this world,” +said I. “The world is hollow, and my doll is +stuffed with sawdust, which accounts for his howling.”</p> + +<p>George was silent. He pulled at his cigar ferociously, +smoked it half up, threw it away, and +replaced it by a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“When a man throws away the best part of +a Reina Victoria he is either flush or badly in +love,” said I to myself. I waited patiently for +him to speak, as I was perfectly willing to +receive his confidence, but I didn’t have the +chance. He maintained a loud silence all the +way, and we walked back home as we had gone +out.</p> + +<p>“Something’s up—something serious,” I informed +Bessie that night, “but George does not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>confide in me worth a cent, which I think is a little +unbrotherly.”</p> + +<p>The following day George was absent from an +early hour in the afternoon till long after all the +household were fast asleep at night. I was awakened +at about midnight by a light tapping at the +door of our room, and slipped out of bed without +disturbing Bessie or the baby.</p> + +<p>“Come up to my den!” whispered George, as +I opened the door. “Don’t wake the others.”</p> + +<p>I quietly got into my clothes and crawled noiselessly +up to George’s “den,” devoured by curiosity. +The moment I caught sight of his handsome face +I saw that it was all right with him, and that he +had nothing but good news to tell me. We sat +down, hoisted our heels to a comfortable altitude, +and George told his story. I let him tell it himself +here:—</p> + +<p>“I was feeling terribly blue yesterday, when +you saw me,” he began, “as you could see. In +the afternoon I went into town, and, according to +a previous arrangement, hired a horse and buggy +and called to take her out riding.”</p> + +<p>(Of course “her” was Miss Van.)</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>“We had agreed to take the old Linwood road, +and follow it to the village, returning through the +Maplewood Park and so getting back to the city +at about six. We left the town and passed +through the suburbs rapidly, until we struck into +the country, and there I let the horse go his own +pace, which was slow. So much the better. +Miss Van Duzen was never more charming. We +had the most agreeable bit of talk, and she drew +me out till I amazed myself. She always does. +It’s no use my telling you, Charlie, but I have +been a fool in my love for her ever since the night +she came into this cottage like a stray beam of +sunshine on a cloudy day. My heart went out of +my keeping the night she called here with the old +gentleman. I believe it was her freshness, her +moral purity, that acted on my morbid, half <i>blasé</i> +spirit, like a tonic, and brought me on my feet. +I’m talking random nonsense, you say, but why +shouldn’t I? I’m drunk with love. Don’t laugh +at me. I’ll be all right by daylight, except a +headache. We got to talking about ourselves. +Lovers always do, don’t they? You ought to +know. There doesn’t seem to be much else in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>the world worth talking about. I told her all +about myself,—my past, with its good and bad +points, and my present hopes and purposes. It +all popped out as naturally as possible. I suppose +it would sound like drivel if I were to +repeat it. Finally she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“‘It is dangerous to make a woman your confidant,’ +she said. ‘How do you know that I can +keep a secret better than any other of my sex?’</p> + +<p>“‘I am not afraid on that score,’ said I. ‘This +is my confessional. It is as sacred as any. Am +I to receive absolution?’</p> + +<p>“She could not fully promise that. She read +me a neat little lecture. It was fascinating to +thus receive correction at her hands. I pledged +myself, when it was done, to follow the course +laid out for me. Then I made bold to exchange +<i>rôles</i>. With some maidenly hesitation, which +soon vanished, she in turn laid before me the +inner history of her life. Ah, my boy, how little +there was in it to gloss over! how much to humiliate +the best and noblest of us men! It was a +revelation that made me prostrate myself before +her. I was not worthy to hear it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>George paused, and drummed on the table with +his fingers nervously.</p> + +<p>“I may as well tell you all,” he resumed. “I +had resolved to ask that girl to marry me when +we started on our ride, but after what she said to +me so simply and modestly, I positively could not +do it. She expected me to speak, I know that, +for she would not have told me what she did tell +me, otherwise.”</p> + +<p>“So you didn’t speak? Oh, stupid, stupid +boy!”</p> + +<p>“I know it. But my tongue was tied. Perhaps +it was all cowardice; I can’t say. I never +was afraid of any one before. I came home +utterly shattered and down-hearted. To-day I +gravitated back to her, after a sleepless night. +She received me with the same friendly smile as +usual, but there seemed to be a slight shadow +over her spirits. That little, almost imperceptible +change filled me with joy. I jumped to a conclusion +that intoxicated me, and made the plunge +at once.</p> + +<p>“‘It is another case of the moth and the candle,’ +I said to her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>“‘Thank you. So I am a candle? That is a +fine figure of speech.’</p> + +<p>“‘Seriously speaking, I think we had not finished +what we were talking of yesterday.’</p> + +<p>“‘What were we talking of yesterday?’ she +had the effrontery to ask. ‘Oh, yes, now I recollect. +It was yourself. That subject, I fear, you +will never finish talking of.’</p> + +<p>“‘Now that’s a very mean speech, all things +considered,’ I whined. ‘Do you want to strike a +man, when he’s way down?’</p> + +<p>“‘Don’t play Uriah Heep. I hate ’umble people. +But if I have perchance pierced the thick +epidermis of Parisian pride you have so long +worn, I’m glad of it.’</p> + +<p>“She likes to abuse me, and I enjoy it quite as +well as she. She continued to scold me and mock +me for some time, to disguise her actual mood. +I saw through it, and let her have her way for +a while. The meeker my replies, the greater the +exaggerated harshness of her criticisms. At last +I no longer attempted to reply at all. Leaning +back in a corner of the sofa, I watched the play +of her animated features and the light of her dark +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>brown eyes, and felt that she was the one woman +in the universe that suited me, the one woman I +could respect and love passionately at the same +time.</p> + +<p>“‘You say truly I am a coward. I am aware +of that. I admit that I am all that is detestable. +If such a wretch as you describe were to love a +woman, what unhappiness for him! There could +be no hope for him. He would know his own +irredeemable unworthiness, and so could only +slink away in shame.’</p> + +<p>“‘You are quite right,’ she cried, laughing merrily. +‘That would be the only course for him to +pursue.’</p> + +<p>“‘By the way,’ I said, ‘that reminds me that +my train goes out in twenty minutes.’</p> + +<p>“I rose, and she also stood up to accompany me +to the door. I held out my hand. It was an +unusual demonstration, and perhaps she thought +it meant good-by in earnest. At least, as she +put her hand in mine, I detected a look I had +never before seen in the depths of those fine +eyes. With a sudden, unpremeditated, and irresistible +movement, I drew her close to me, folded +my arms about her, and kissed her passionately.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>“‘Clara!’ I whispered, ‘I love you! I love +you! Don’t tell me to go.’</p> + +<p>“She gently drew herself out of my reluctant +arms, and though her eyes were misty now, I saw +in them that I was to stay.</p> + +<p>“That’s all the story I have to tell you, Charlie. +I am too happy to-night to sleep, so I couldn’t +let you sleep. I stayed and spent the evening. +Mr. Desmond, bless his dear old heart! cried over +Clara, and gave her an old-fashioned blessing. +I walked home on air. Do I look very badly +corned?”</p> + +<p>I gave him a rousing hand-shake, and wiped +away a stray bit of moisture from my cheek.</p> + +<p>“May I tell Bessie?” were my first words when +I found my tongue.</p> + +<p>“Why not? There will be no long engagement +in this case. The knot shall be tied as soon as +possible.”</p> + +<p>The announcement I made to my little wife the +following morning was not entirely unexpected, +yet it filled her with delight. Miss Van was the +woman of all others that Bessie wished to have +George marry. The arrangement was, therefore, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>completely to her satisfaction, and she beamed +upon the happy George with true sisterly affection.</p> + +<p>What effect would the news have upon Mrs. +Pinkerton? I asked myself. I had not long to +wait for an answer, for it was at the breakfast-table +that George fired the shot.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said the bold youth, “I’m going to +be married.”</p> + +<p>His mother abruptly stopped stirring her coffee, +and her spine visibly stiffened, but she said nothing.</p> + +<p>“The event will occur without delay. Of course +it is useless to inform you who is the—”</p> + +<p>“Quite useless,” Mrs. Pinkerton broke in; “my +wishes in the matter are not of the slightest consequence +to you.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary. Now, look here; don’t be +so infernally quick to anticipate my wilfulness. I +want to conform to your wishes if I can. <i>Que +faire?</i>”</p> + +<p>“We will talk about it after breakfast.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, there was a serious passage-at-arms +in the library after breakfast. George left +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>the house a conqueror, but the conquered had no +sort of intention of abandoning the campaign after +a Bull Run defeat. In fact, war had only just +been declared. It must not be supposed that it +was a war the movements of which could be followed +by the acutest military observer; the batteries +were all masked, but the gunpowder was +there. I felt confident that George would carry +everything before him, and he did. He brought +Miss Van over to spend the evening, and we had +the pleasantest time imaginable. He would not +allow his mother to say a word against Miss Van, +and made a fair show of proving that the latter +had, not only better blood, but also better breeding +and a truer sense of propriety than my mother-in-law, +that is, “when it came to the scratch,” as +George said. “But who would give a snap for a +young woman who can’t throw aside the shackles +of conventionality once in a while, and be herself?”</p> + +<p>Miss Van was her own jolliest, sweetest self at +this time. Her beauty had never been so noticeable: +joy is an excellent cosmetic, and love paints +far better than rouge or powder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>As soon as Mrs. Pinkerton had recovered from +her defeat, and when the engagement had become +an acknowledged fact which all the world +might know, the wedding began to loom up +before us, and I could not help wondering if St. +Thomas’s Church was to be the scene of as fashionable +and grand a display as on the occasion +when Bessie and myself were made one.</p> + +<p>I felt reasonably certain that Mrs. Pinkerton +would make an effort to that end, and I was curious +to see how George would look on it.</p> + +<p>Bessie, I think, would have been glad to see the +marriage take place with as much pomp and show +as possible. She was intensely interested in what +Clara should wear, and every visit from that young +woman was the occasion for a vast deal of confidential +and no doubt highly important <i>tête-à-tête</i> +consultation.</p> + +<p>Mother-in-law sailed into the library one evening +with unusual celerity of movement.</p> + +<p>“George, dear,” she said, “this cannot be true! +You would not permit such an eccentric, uncivilized +proceeding. Surely you will not offend our +friends by—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>“Avast there! Our friends be hanged!” cried +George wickedly. “Yes, it’s true, too true. The +ceremony will be private, and no cards. You can +come, though! Next Wednesday, at two o’clock, +sharp!”</p> + +<p>This was cruel. I could see his mother almost +stagger under the blow. She attempted to remonstrate, +but it was too late. George assured her +that “it was all fixed,” and that Clara had agreed +with him regarding the details.</p> + +<p>“Honest old John Stephens will tie the knot,” +said he, “and it will be just as tight as if Dr. +McCanon manipulated the holy bonds. I trust we +shall have the pleasure of your company, mother. +Consider yourself invited. A few of the choicest +spirits will be on hand. Clara will wear the most +exquisite gray travelling suit you ever laid eyes +on.”</p> + +<p>The widow was flanked, outgeneralled, routed +along the whole line. She brought forward all +her reserve forces of good-breeding, and thus +escaped a disastrous panic by retiring in good +order.</p> + +<p>The ceremony occurred, as George had announced, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>the following Wednesday. The near +relatives and best friends of the young couple +were present, and it was a quiet and thoroughly +enjoyable affair for all who participated. An +hour after they had been pronounced man and +wife, George and his bride rode away to take the +train for the mountains.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“And on her lover’s arm she leant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And round her waist she felt it fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And far across the hills they went<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In that new world which is the old.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br /> + +<span class="caption">BABY TALK, OLD DIVES, AND OTHER THINGS.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> cottage seemed dull enough after the +departure of George with his bride. Bessie +was so absorbed by the care of our little one that +she had very little time to think of anything else, +and in fact the new-comer, for the time being, +monopolized the attention of his grandmother as +well as of his mother. I was therefore left to my +own resources.</p> + +<p>“Baby is not very well, Charlie,” Bessie informed +me, one morning, with an anxious air. +“Do you think it would do to wrap him up well +and take him for a little ride this afternoon?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s a good idea. If I can get that +black horse at the livery stable, I’ll bring him +around this afternoon. But I don’t see why you +should wrap him up. It’s hot as blazes.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know anything about babies, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>Charlie. Go along. Get a nice, easy carriage, +and we’ll take mother with us. I long for a ride.”</p> + +<p>I departed, and secured the desired “team.”</p> + +<p>Towards two o’clock I drove up to the cottage, +and the entire family bundled into the vehicle, +and we were off. I chose a pleasant, shady road, +and drove slowly, while Bessie and her mother +filled the air with baby talk.</p> + +<p>As we were climbing the hill near Linwood, I +saw, a short distance ahead of us, the form of an +elderly gentleman toiling up the ascent in the sun. +He seemed fatigued, and stopped as we drew near +him, to wipe the beads of perspiration from his +brow.</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s Mr. Desmond!” exclaimed Bessie.</p> + +<p>Sure enough! As he turned toward us I recognized +the white vest, the expansive shirt-front, and +the resplendent watch-chain that could belong to +no other than “old Dives” himself.</p> + +<p>“How d’ye do?” I cried, halting our fiery steed.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Mr. Travers, Mrs. Pinkerton, how do you +do? Delighted to meet you. It’s very warm.”</p> + +<p>“How came you so far out in the country +afoot?” I asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>“I had some business at Melton, and lost the +2:30 train back to town, so I started to walk to +Linwood with the purpose of taking a train on the +other road. They told me it was only a mile and +a half, but—.” And he sighed significantly.</p> + +<p>“How fortunate that we met you,” said Mrs. +Pinkerton quickly, taking the words out of my +mouth. “Get in and ride to Linwood with us. +We have a vacant seat, you see.”</p> + +<p>I seconded her invitation, and without much +hesitation he accepted, and took a seat by my +side. The conversation turned naturally upon the +“young couple” (Bessie and I were no longer +referred to in that way), and Mr. Desmond +extolled his niece unreservedly. Mother-in-law +was evidently somewhat impressed, but I think +she made some mental reservations.</p> + +<p>“Will you smoke, Mr. Desmond?” I asked, +offering him a cigar.</p> + +<p>“No, I thank you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I had forgotten you did not approve of +the habit. Excuse me.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pinkerton explained to Mr. Desmond, apologetically, +that I was an irresponsible victim of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>nicotine poison. I laughed, but Mr. Desmond +received the explanation solemnly, and expressed +his abhorrence for “the weed.”</p> + +<p>The old gentleman professed great admiration +for baby, and said that he looked exactly like his +mother; in fact, the resemblance was almost startling.</p> + +<p>By the time we had got to Linwood, our passenger +had talked himself into a state of good-humor, +and we left him at the railroad station, +bowing and smiling with true old-school <i>aplomb</i>.</p> + +<p>Bessie thought the ride did Charlie, junior, +good, and so it became a regular thing, on pleasant +afternoons, to take him out for a little airing. +Mrs. Pinkerton overcame her scruples, and usually +accompanied us. A sample of the sweet +converse held with my son and heir on the back +seat will suffice:—</p> + +<p>“Sodywazzaleetlecatchykums! ‘Esoodavaboobangy! +Mamma’s cunnin’ kitten-baby!”</p> + +<p>One day, just before noon, when I had been +making a mental calculation as to how I should be +able to cover the livery-stable bill, a fine equipage +stopped in front of the bank, and through the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>window I saw the stately driver hand a note to +our errand-boy. In a moment Tommy appeared +in the room and handed me the billet, which ran +thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"><p><span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Travers</span>,—I trust you will not take +it amiss if I send my coachman out your way once in a +while to exercise the ponies. Since Clara’s taking-off, +they have stood still too much, and knowing that you go to +ride occasionally with your family, I take the liberty of +putting them at your disposal for the present, with instructions +to John, who is a careful and trustworthy +driver, to place himself at your service whenever you are +so disposed. The obligation will be entirely on my part, +if you will kindly take a turn behind the ponies whenever +you choose. My regards to your wife and Mrs. Pinkerton.</p> + +<p class="sigline1">Believe me yours sincerely,</p> +<p class="signature"><span class="smcap">T. G. Desmond</span>.</p> +</div> + +<p>I could find no objection to accepting this +kindly offer, so delicately made, but I did not +dare to do so before consulting Bessie and her +mother, so I stepped into the carriage and had +John drive me to the cottage. There was a consultation, +and after I had overcome some feeble +scruples on Mrs. Pinkerton’s part, which I am +afraid were hypocritical, we decided to take +advantage of Mr. Desmond’s generosity. I sent +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>a note of thanks back by John, and thenceforth +we took our rides behind “old Dives’s” black +ponies. Occasionally the old gentleman himself +came out in the carriage, and proved himself as +trustworthy and careful a driver as John, handling +the “ribbons” with the air of an accomplished +whip. The rides were very pleasant, those beautiful +summer days, and the change from a hired +“team” to the sumptuous establishment of Mr. +Desmond was extremely grateful.</p> + +<p>Mr. Desmond was doubtless very lonely without +his niece. She had been the light of his home, +and her absence was probably felt by the old gentleman +with more keenness than he had anticipated +at the outset. His large and beautifully furnished +mansion needed the presence of just such a person +of vivacious and cheery character as Clara, to +prevent it from becoming cheerless in its grandeur. +He intimated as much, and appeared unusually +restless and low-spirited for him. He sought to +make up for the absence of the sunshine and joyousness +that “Miss Van” had taken away with her, +by applying himself with especial diligence to +business; but he really had not much business to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>engross his attention, beyond collecting his interest +and looking out for his agents, and it failed to +fill the void. He betook himself to his club, and +killed time assiduously, talking with the men-about-town +he found there, playing whist, and +running through the magazines and reviews in +search of wit and wisdom wherewith to divert himself. +The dull season had set in; there was little +doing, in affairs, commerce, politics, or literature; +and direct efforts at killing time always result in +making time go more heavily than ever. Mr. +Desmond’s attempt was like a curious <i>pas seul</i>, +executed by a nimble actor in a certain extravaganza, +the peculiarity of which is that at every +forward step the dancer slides farther and farther +backward, until finally an unseen power appears +to drag him back into the flies.</p> + +<p>It was during one of our afternoon drives, when +Mr. Desmond usurped the office of his coachman, +that he confided to us a plan which he had devised +to cure his <i>ennui</i>.</p> + +<p>“I have made up my mind,” he said, “to go +abroad for a good long tour. It will be the best +move I could possibly make.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>“I don’t doubt it,” I said. “How soon do you +propose to go?” And Bessie sighed, “O dear, +how delightful!”</p> + +<p>“My plans are not matured,” Mr. Desmond continued, +“but I think I shall sail early next month. +My favorite steamer leaves on the 6th.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will enjoy a pleasant voyage, and +a delightful trip on the other side,” said Mrs. +Pinkerton politely.</p> + +<p>Mr. Desmond returned thanks. Nothing more +was said that day concerning his project. When +he left us at the cottage, he remarked,—</p> + +<p>“By the way, Mr. Travers, I wish you would +call at my office to-morrow morning at or about +eleven o’clock, if you can make it convenient to +do so.”</p> + +<p>“I will do so,” I replied, wondering what he +could want of me.</p> + +<p>At the appointed hour the next day I was on +hand at his office. He motioned to me to be seated +and then said,—</p> + +<p>“Yesterday morning I met John K. Blunt, of +Blunt Brothers & Company, at my club, and he +told me that their cashier had defaulted. An account +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>of the affair is in this morning’s papers. +They want a new cashier. I have mentioned your +name, and if you will go around to their office +with me, we will talk with Blunt.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Desmond—” I began, but he stopped +me.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let’s have any talk but business,” he +said. “The figures will be satisfactory, I am confident.”</p> + +<p>Satisfactory! They were munificent! Blunt +liked me, and only a few short and sharp sentences +from such a man as Desmond finished +the business. I saw a future of opulence before +me. My head was almost turned. I tried to +thank Mr. Desmond, but he would not listen to my +earnest expressions of gratitude.</p> + +<p>“I have engaged passage for the 6th,” he told +me when we were parting; “I will try to call at +your cottage before I get off. I am busy settling +up some details now. Good day.”</p> + +<p>I hastened home with my good news. Bessie’s +eyes glistened when she heard it, and even my +mother-in-law showed a faint sign of pleasure at +my good luck.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>The following Saturday evening Mr. Desmond +came out to see us.</p> + +<p>“Don’t consider this my farewell appearance,” +he said. “I merely wished to tell you that my +friends have inveigled me into giving an informal +party Tuesday evening, at which I shall expect +you all to appear.”</p> + +<p>He talked glibly, for him, and gave us an outline +sketch of his proposed tour. I thought he +seemed strangely restless and nervous, and I +pitied him.</p> + +<p>His “informal party” was really a noteworthy +affair, and the wealth and respectability of the +city were well represented. Bessie could not go, +on account of the baby, so I acted as escort to +Mrs. Pinkerton, who made herself amazingly +agreeable. There were not many young people +present, and the affair was quiet and genteel in the +extreme. Bank presidents, capitalists, professional +men, and “solid” men, with their wives, attired in +black silks, formed the majority of the guests. +They were Mr. Desmond’s personal friends. My +mother-in-law was in congenial company, and I +believe she enjoyed the evening remarkably. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>Most of the conversation turned, very naturally, +upon European travel. Americans who are possessed +of wealth always have done “the grand +tour,” and they invariably speak of “Europe” in +a general way, as if it were all one country.</p> + +<p>“When I returned from my first tour abroad, a +friend said to me that he ‘supposed it was a fine +country over there,’” said Mr. Desmond to me, +laughing.</p> + +<p>Some one asked him where he had decided to +go.</p> + +<p>“I shall land at Havre, and go straight to +Paris,” he answered. “I flatter myself I am a +good American, and as I have been comparatively +dead since my niece left me, I am entitled to a +place in that terrestrial paradise.”</p> + +<p>I thought I had never seen Mrs. Pinkerton +appear to so good advantage as she did on this +occasion. Her natural good manners and her +intelligence made her attractive in such a company, +and she was the centre of a bright group of +middle-aged Brahmins throughout the entire evening. +Mr. Desmond appeared grateful for the +assistance she rendered in making his party pass +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>off pleasantly, and as for me, I began to feel that +I had never quite appreciated her best qualities. +She was a woman that one could not wholly know +in a year, perhaps not in a lifetime. “Who +knows?” I thought; “perhaps I have wronged +my mother-in-law.”</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> + +<span class="caption">A SURPRISE.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">W</span>e</span> were feeling a little solemn at the cottage. +George, with his lively ways, and Clara, +with her sparkling vivacity, were away on their +wedding tour, and our good friend, Mr. Desmond, +to whom we had taken a great liking, was about +to sail for an indefinite absence in foreign lands. +Though the mother-in-law’s presence was less +oppressive than formerly, there was now a pensiveness, +an air of departed glory about it, that +was not cheerful. There was danger of settling +down to a humdrum sort of life, free from strife, +perhaps, but at the same time devoid of that buoyancy +which should make the home of a young +couple joyous.</p> + +<p>I was a little doubtful of making a vacation in +the country this summer. To be sure, when +George went away, it was agreed that after he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>had gone the round of the White Mountains, the +attractions of Canada, Niagara Falls, and Saratoga, +he would return for a quiet stay of a few +weeks, at the close of the season, to the little +resort which we had visited a year ago, and there, +if Bessie’s health would permit, and I could +arrange for a sufficient absence from business, we +would join them. But I almost dreaded taking +Mrs. Pinkerton with us, and doubted whether she +would go; at the same time, I did not like to +propose leaving her behind to take care of the +cottage. I was in perplexity, and, notwithstanding +my splendid new prospects in business, was +not feeling cheerful.</p> + +<p>Coming home from a restless round of the city +on the Fourth of July, where I had found the great +national holiday a bore, I noticed Mr. Desmond’s +team coming up to the garden gate with a brisk +turn. That fine old gentleman—I always feel +like calling him old on account of his gray whiskers, +though he was little more than fifty—came down +the walk and with stately politeness assisted Bessie +and the baby out of the carriage. I looked to see +Mrs. Pinkerton follow, but she was not there, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>clearly Mr. Desmond had not been to ride. It +struck me as a little queer, not to say amusing, +that they had been having a quiet <i>tête-à-tête</i> +together in the cottage while John gave Bessie and +the baby their airing. But then, it was not so +strange either, for was he not going to leave us in +two days? It was no uncommon thing for Mrs. +Pinkerton to stay within while Bessie was out, and +he had probably dropped in late in the afternoon, +expecting to find us all at home, as it was a holiday. +I bade him good by in case I did not see +him again, as he got into the carriage to ride back +to the city.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I shall see you to-morrow,” he said in a +brisk tone which had not been habitual with him +of late.</p> + +<p>That evening my mother-in-law was uncommonly +gracious, a little absent-minded, and more +pleasant in spirit than I had ever known her. +She seemed to be filled with an inward satisfaction +that I could not make out at all. Bessie and I +both remarked it, but could not surmise any +cause for the apparent change that had come over +the spirit of her dream.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>Next morning, on reaching town, I found a +note asking me to step over to Mr. Desmond’s +office when I could find time. I went at my leisure, +wondering what was up. As I entered, he +seemed remarkably cordial and happy.</p> + +<p>“I find that Blunt,” he said in a business-like +way, “would like to have you take hold at once, if +possible. Their affairs are in some confusion and +need an experienced hand to straighten them out. +It will be necessary for you to give a bond, which +I have here all prepared, with satisfactory sureties, +and you need only give us your signature, which +I will have properly witnessed on the spot.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, is that it?” I thought. Strange I didn’t +think of its having something to do with my new +position. I knew I could get away from my +old place at a week’s notice, as I had already +made known my intention to leave, and there +were several applicants for the position. The +bond was executed without hesitation.</p> + +<p>“You will not lose your vacation,” Mr. Desmond +said, “though your salary will begin at +once. As soon as you can get matters in order, +which may take a month or more, you are to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>allowed a few weeks’ absence to recuperate and +get fully prepared for your new responsibilities.”</p> + +<p>Thanking him for his kindness, I was about to +go, when he said, “Sit down, Mr. Travers. I +have something else to say to you.”</p> + +<p>“What’s coming now?” I wondered, as I took +my seat again. Mr. Desmond seemed a little at +a loss how to begin his new communication, and +came nearer appearing embarrassed than I should +have thought possible for him.</p> + +<p>“The fact is,” he said at last, “I have changed +my mind about going abroad.”</p> + +<p>I have no doubt I looked very much surprised +and puzzled, and smiling at the expression of my +face, he went on,—</p> + +<p>“Your mother-in-law, Mrs. Pinkerton, is a very +worthy woman; in fact, a remarkably worthy +woman.”</p> + +<p>I couldn’t deny that; but why should he choose +such a time and place to compliment her?</p> + +<p>“Do you know,” he added, with a still nearer +approach to embarrassment in his manner, and +something like a blush on his usually calm face, +“I have asked her to become Mrs. Desmond.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>“The devil you have!” was my thought as +astonishment fairly overcame me. I didn’t say +it, though, but it was my turn to be embarrassed, +and I hardly knew what to say.</p> + +<p>Having got it out, Mr. Desmond fairly recovered +his equanimity. “Yes,” he said, “I put the +idea away from me for a long time, but it would +persist in growing upon me, and I finally concluded +that perhaps it might contribute to the +happiness of <i>all</i> parties, so I have taken the +plunge. I hope you approve of it,” he added, +with a queer twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>“With all my heart, sir,” I said earnestly; “and +I am sure it will be as pleasing as it is surprising +to us all.”</p> + +<p>Throughout that afternoon I was restless, and +eager to get home to tell Bessie the wonderful +news. It was the longest afternoon I ever saw, +but at length it passed and I hurried home. As +Bessie met me at the door I said eagerly, “I’ve +got a surprise for you, deary.”</p> + +<p>Now I noticed for the first time that she was all +smiles and full of something that she was eager to +surprise me with. Simultaneously each recognized +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>that the other had the secret already. Of course; +what a fool I was! Her mother naturally enough +would tell her while Mr. Desmond broke the matter +to me.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it jolly?” I said.</p> + +<p>“Why, Charlie, are you then so anxious to get +rid of poor, dear mamma?” she said, half reproachfully +and half teasingly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, of course not, but it is really nice for +all of us, isn’t it now? She won’t be far off, you +know; we shall have our little home all to ourselves, +and Mr. Desmond will be a sort of guardian +for us. And as I said before, I think it is jolly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I must confess I do not altogether like +the idea of mamma marrying again, and I shall +miss her very much, after all.”</p> + +<p>I couldn’t help laughing at the little woman’s +demure countenance, as she said this. There was +a little trace of jealousy in her gentle heart—jealousy +so natural to women—at the idea of +another’s taking her mother off, just as that good +woman had been jealous at her taking off. I +accused her of it, and she repudiated the idea.</p> + +<p>But everybody must admit that things had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>fallen out just right for all parties, and the shadow +was to be taken from our household by a +new burst of sunlight, without any heart-burning +for anybody, and with nothing but satisfaction for +all. It was arranged that the new marriage +should presently occur, and the mature couple +take a little trip, and surprise George and Clara +by being at the Fairview Hotel before them. +Their first knowledge of the turn of affairs was to +come when they arrived there late in August, and +found their new relations in possession. Bessie +and I were to join the party for a brief stay, and +so my perplexity was happily ended.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br /> + +<span class="caption">A HAPPY PROSPECT.</span></h2> + + +<p class="newsection"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> landscape is lovely in these latter days of +August. The mountains are grand and solemn +in their everlasting silence. We are together +at the Fairview, and everybody feels free and +happy. There is no restraint, and our future prospects +are delightful. Before George left home in +June he had made application for a vacant chair +in the Medical College and presented his credentials +and testimonials. He expected nothing from +it, he said, but would leave me to look out and +see what decision was made. I had brought with +me the news of his appointment. I had also secured +for him the refusal of an elegant house which +had been suddenly vacated and offered for sale on +account of the failure in business of its owner. It +was very near our cottage, had lovely surroundings, +was beautifully furnished, and was to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>sold with all its contents. It has now been decided +between George and Mr. Desmond that it +shall be purchased at once, and shall become the +legal possession of Clara, being paid for out of +her ample fortune, now under her own control, +but not yet taken from her uncle’s keeping.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Desmond will take possession of +the city mansion, and I have no doubt that its +state and elegance will be fully kept up. I see +before me happy times for us all, and at last I +think we understand and appreciate each other. +Our relations being properly and happily adjusted, +there will be no more “unpleasantness.” And I +must acknowledge that, in spite of past feelings +and the little clouds that have flecked our sky, +sometimes appearing dark and portentous, these +happy results are due in no small measure to +<span class="smcap">My Mother-in-Law</span>.</p> + +<p class="end"><span class="smcap">The End</span>.</p> + + + +<div class="note"> +<p><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong> The table below lists all corrections applied to +the original text.</p> + +<ul> +<li><a href="#Page_39">p. 39</a>: a hand encased in a mit → mitt</li> +<li><a href="#Page_128">p. 128</a>: [added quotes] better than any other of my sex?’</li> +<li><a href="#Page_131">p. 131</a>: [added quotes] slink away in shame.’</li> +<li><a href="#Page_133">p. 133</a>: [added quotes] <i>Que faire?</i>”</li> +<li><a href="#Page_145">p. 145</a>: And Besssie sighed → Bessie</li> +</ul> +</div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30270 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |