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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36196-8.txt b/36196-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0cfc6fc --- /dev/null +++ b/36196-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8110 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Boston Neighbours In Town and Out, by Agnes Blake Poor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Boston Neighbours In Town and Out + +Author: Agnes Blake Poor + +Release Date: May 22, 2011 [EBook #36196] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "HE TOOK OUT HIS EYEGLASS TO STUDY IT."] + + + + +BOSTON NEIGHBOURS +IN TOWN AND OUT + +BY AGNES BLAKE POOR + +[Illustration] + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS +NEW YORK AND LONDON +The Knickerbocker Press +1898 + + +COPYRIGHT, 1898 +BY +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + OUR TOLSTOI CLUB 1 + A LITTLE FOOL 41 + WHY I MARRIED ELEANOR 83 + THE STORY OF A WALL-FLOWER 123 + POOR MR. PONSONBY 187 + MODERN VENGEANCE 239 + THREE CUPS OF TEA 274 + THE TRAMPS' WEDDING 300 + + * * * * * + +The author and the publishers desire to make acknowledgment to the +publishers of the _Century Magazine_ and of the _New England Magazine_ +for their courtesy in permitting the re-issue of certain stories which +were originally published in these periodicals. + + + + +[Illustration] + +OUR TOLSTOI CLUB + + +I should be glad to tell a story if I only knew one, but I don't. Some +people say that one experience is as interesting as another, and that +any real life is worth hearing about; but I think it must make some +little difference who the person is. But if I really must tell one, and +since you all have told yours, and such nice ones, and anything is +better than nothing when we are kept in all the morning by a pouring +rain, with nothing to do, because we came only for a week, and did not +expect it to rain, I will try and tell you about our Tolstoi Club, +because that was rather like a story--at least it might have been like +one if things had turned out a little differently. + +You know I live in a suburb of Boston, and a very charming, delightful +one it is. I cannot call it by its real name, because I am going to be +so very personal; so I will call it "Babyland," which indeed people +often do in fun. There never was such a place for children. The +population is mostly under seven years old, for it was about seven years +ago that young married people began to move into it in such numbers, +because it is so healthy; but it was always a great place for them even +when it was small. The old inhabitants are mostly grandfathers and +grandmothers now, and enjoy it very much; but they usually go into town +in the winter, with such unmarried children as they have left, to get a +little change; for there is no denying that there is a sameness about +it--the sidewalks are crowded with perambulators every pleasant day, and +at our parties the talk is apt to run too much on nursery-maids, and +milkmen and their cows, and drains, to be very interesting to those who +have not learned how terribly important such things are. So in winter +we--I mean the young married couples, of whom I am half a one--are left +pretty much to our own devices. + +Though we are all so devoted to our infant families, we are not so much +so as to give up all rational pleasures or intellectual tastes; we could +not live so near Boston, you know, and do that. Our husbands go into +town every day to make money, and we go in every few days to spend it, +and in the evenings, if they are not too tired, we sometimes make them +take us in to the theatres and concerts. We all have a very nice social +circle, for Babyland is fashionable as well as respectable, and we are +asked out more or less, and go out; but for real enjoyment we like our +own clubs and classes the best. We feel so safe going round in the +neighbourhood, because we are so near the children, and can be called +home any time if necessary. There is our little evening dancing-club, +which meets round at one another's houses, where we all exchange +husbands--a kind of grown-up "puss-in-the-corner"; only, as the supply +of dancing husbands is not quite equal to that of wives, we have to get +a young man or two in if we can; and for the same reason we don't ask +any girls, who, indeed, are not very eager to come. Then there is the +musical club, and the sketching-club, and we have a great many morning +clubs for the women alone, where we bring our work (and it is splendid +to get so much time to sew), and read, or are read to, and then talk +over things. Sometimes we stay to lunch, and sometimes not; and we would +have an essay club, only we have no time to write the papers. + +Now, many of these clubs meet chiefly at Minnie Mason's--Mrs. Sydney +Mason's. She gets them up, and is president: you see, she has more time, +because she has no children--the only woman in Babyland who hasn't, and +I don't doubt she feels dreadfully about it. She is not strong, and has +to lie on the sofa most of the time, and that is another reason why we +meet there so often; and then she lives right in the midst of us all, +and so close to the road that we can all of us watch our children, when +they are out for their airings, very conveniently. Minnie is very kind +and sympathetic, and takes such an interest in all our affairs, and if +she is somewhat inclined to gossip about them, poor dear, it is very +natural, when she has so few of her own to think about. + +Well, in the autumn before last, Minnie said we must get up a Tolstoi +Club; she said the Russians were the coming race, and Tolstoi was their +greatest writer, and the most Christian of moralists (at least she had +read so), and that everybody was talking about him, and we should be +behindhand if we could not. So we turned one of our clubs, which had +nothing particular on hand just then, into one; and, besides Tolstoi, we +read other Russian novelists, Turgenieff and--that man whose name is so +hard to pronounce, who writes all about convicts and--and other +criminals. We did not read them all, for they are very long, and we can +never get through anything long; but we hired a very nice lady +"skimmer," who ran through them, and told us the plots, and all about +the authors, and read us bits. I forget a good deal, but I remember she +said that Tolstoi was the supreme realist, and that all previous +novelists were romancers and idealists, and that he drew life just as it +was, and nobody else had ever done anything like it, except indeed the +other Russians; and then we discussed. In discussion we are very apt to +stray off to other topics, but that day I remember Bessie Milliken +saying that the Russians seemed very queer people; she supposed that if +every one said these authors were so true to life, they must be, but she +had never known such an extraordinary state of things. Just as soon as +ever people were married--if they married at all--they seemed wild to +make love to some one else, or have some one else make love to them. + +"They don't seem to do so here," said Fanny Deane. + +"_We_ certainly do not," said Blanche Livermore. "I think the reason +must be that we have no time. I have scarcely time to see anything of my +own husband, much less to fall in love with any one else's." + +We all laughed, but we felt that it was odd. In Babyland all went on in +an orderly and respectable fashion. The gayest girls, the fastest young +men, as soon as they were married and settled there, subsided at once +into quiet, domestic ways. At our dances each of us secretly thought +her own husband the most interesting person present, and he returned the +compliment, and after a peaceful evening of passing them about we were +always very thankful to get them back to go home with. Were we, then, so +unlike the rest of humanity? + +"Are we sure?" asked Minnie Mason, always prone to speculation. "It is +not likely that we are utterly different from the rest of the world. Who +knows what dark tragedies lie hidden in the recesses of the heart? Who +knows all her neighbour's secret history?" This was being rather +personal, but no one took it home, for we never minded what Minnie said; +and as many of the club were, as always occurred, detained at home by +domestic duties, we thought it might apply to one of them. But I can't +deny that we, and especially Minnie, who had a relish for what was +sensational, and was pleased to find that realistic fiction, which she +had always thought must be dull, was really exciting, felt a little +ashamed at our being so behind the age--"provincial," as Mr. James would +call it; "obsolete," as Mr. Howells is fond of saying--at Babyland as +not to have the ghost of a scandal among us. None of us wished to give +cause for the scandal ourselves; but I think we might not have been as +sorry as we ought to be if one of our neighbours had been obliging +enough to do so. We did not want anything very bad, you know. Of course +none of us could ever have dreamed of running away with a fascinating +young man--like Anna Karenina--because in the first place we all liked +our husbands, and in the next place, who could be depended upon to go +into town to do the marketing, and to see that the children wore their +india-rubbers on wet days? But anything short of that we felt we could +bear with equanimity. + +That same fall we were excited, though only in our usual harmless, +innocent way, by hearing that the old Grahame house was sold, and +pleased--though no more than was proper--that it was sold to the +Williamses. It was a pretty, old farm-house which had been improved upon +and enlarged, and had for many years been to let; and being as +inconvenient as it was pretty, it was always changing its tenants, whom +we despised as transients, and seldom called upon. But now it was +bought, and by none of your new people, who, we began to think, were +getting too common in Babyland. We all knew Willie Williams: all the men +were his old friends, and all the women had danced with him, and liked +him, and flirted with him; but I don't think it ever went deeper, for +somehow all the girls had a way of laughing at him, though he was a +handsome fellow, and had plenty of money, and was very well behaved, +and clever too in his way; but we could not help thinking him silly. For +one thing, he would be an artist, though you never saw such dreadful +daubs as all his pictures were. It was a mercy he did not have to live +by them, for he never sold any; he gave them away to his friends, and +Blanche Livermore said that was why he had so many friends, for of +course he could not work off more than one apiece on them. He was very +popular with all the other artists, for he was the kindest-hearted +creature, and always helped those who were poor, and admired those who +were great; and they never had anything to say against him, though they +could not get out anything more in his praise than that he was "careful +and conscientious in his work," which was very likely true. Then he was +vain; at least he liked his own good looks, and, being æsthetic in his +tastes, chose to display them to advantage by his attire. He wore his +hair, which was very light, long, and was seldom seen in anything less +fanciful than a boating-suit, or a bicycle-suit, though he was not given +to either exercise, but wanted an excuse for a blouse, and +knee-breeches, and tights, and a soft hat--and these were all of a more +startling pattern than other people's; while as to the velvet +painting-jackets and brocade dressing-gowns, in which he indulged in +his studio, I can only say that they made him a far more picturesque +figure than any in his pictures. It was a shame to waste such materials +on a man. Then he lisped when he was at all excited, which he often was; +and he had odd ways of walking, and standing, and sitting, which looked +affected, though I really don't think they were. + +He made enthusiastic, but very brief, love to all of us in turn. I don't +know whether any of us could have had him; if one could, all could; but, +supposing we could, I don't believe any of us would have had the courage +to venture on Willie Williams. But we expected that his marriage would +be romantic and exciting, and his wedding something out of the common. +Opinions were divided as to whether his ardent love-making would induce +some lovely young Italian or Spanish girl of rank to run away from a +convent with him, or whether he would rashly take up with some artist's +model, or goose-girl, or beggar-maid. We were much disappointed when, +after all, he married in the most commonplace manner a very ordinary +girl named Loulie Latham. + +We all knew Loulie too; she went to school at Miss Woodberry's, in the +class next below mine; and she was a nice girl, and we all liked her +well enough, but there never was a girl who had less in her. She was not +bad-looking, but no beauty; not at all the kind of looks to attract an +artist. Blanche Livermore said that he might have married her for her +red hair if only there had been more of it. The Lathams were very well +connected, and knew everybody, and she went about with the other girls, +and had a fair show of attention at parties; but she never had friends +or lovers. She had not much chance to have any, indeed, for she married +very young. + +She was a very shy, quiet girl, and I used to think that perhaps it was +because she was so overcrowed by her mother. Mrs. Latham was a large, +striking-looking if not exactly handsome, lady-like though loud, woman, +who talked a great deal about everything. She was clever, but eccentric, +and took up all manner of fads and fancies, and though she was a +thoroughly good woman, and well born and well bred, she did know the +very queerest people--always hand in glove with some new crank. Hygiene, +as she called it, was her pet hobby. Fortunately she had a particular +aversion to dosing; but she dieted her daughter and herself, which, I +fear, was nearly as bad. All her bread had husks in it, and she was +always discovering that it was hurtful to eat any butter or drink any +water, and no end of such notions. She dressed poor Loulie so +frightfully that it was enough to take all the courage out of a girl: +with all her dresses very short in the skirt, and big at the waist, and +cut high, even in the evening, and thick shoes very queerly shaped, made +after her own orders by some shoemaker of her own, and loose cotton +gloves, and a mushroom hat down over her eyes. Finally she took up the +mind-cure, and Loulie was to keep thinking all the time how perfectly +well she was, which, I think, was what made her so thin and pale. Mrs. +Latham always said that no one ever need be ill, and indeed she never +was herself, for she was found dead in her bed one morning without any +warning. + +This happened at Jackson, New Hampshire, where they were spending the +summer. Of course poor Loulie was half distracted with the shock and the +grief. There was no one in the house where they were whom she knew at +all, or who was very congenial, I fancy, and Willie Williams, whom they +knew slightly, was in the neighbourhood, sketching, and was very kind +and attentive, and more helpful than any one would ever have imagined he +could be. He saw to all the business, and telegraphed for some cousin or +other, and made the funeral arrangements; and the end of it was that in +three months he and Loulie Latham were married, and had sailed for +Europe on their wedding tour. + +This was ten years ago, and they had never come back till now. They +meant to come back sooner, but one thing after another prevented. They +had no children for several years, and they thought it a good chance to +poke around in the wildest parts of Southern Europe--Corsica, and +Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles, and all that--and made their winter +quarters at Palermo. Then for the next six years they lived in less +out-of-the-way places. They had four children, and lost two; and one +thing or another kept them abroad, until they suddenly made up their +minds to come home. + +We had not heard much of them while they were gone. Loulie had no one to +correspond with, and Willie, like most men, never wrote letters; but we +all were very curious to see them, and willing to welcome them, though +we did not know how much they were going to surprise us. Willie +Williams, indeed, was just the same as ever--in fact, our only surprise +in him was to see him look no older than when he went away; but as for +Mrs. Williams, she gave us quite a shock. For my part, I shall never +forget how taken aback I was, when, strolling down to the station one +afternoon with the children, with a vague idea of meeting Tom, who might +come on that train, but who didn't, I came suddenly upon a tall, +splendidly shaped, stately creature, in the most magnificent clothes; +at least they looked so, though they were all black, and the dress was +only cashmere, but it was draped in an entirely new way. She wore a +shoulder-cape embroidered in jet, and a large black hat and feather set +back over great masses of rich dark auburn hair; and, though so late in +the season, she carried a large black lace parasol. To be sure, it was +still very warm and pleasant. I never should have ventured to speak to +her, but she stopped at once, and said, "Perhaps you have forgotten me, +Mrs. White?" + +"No--oh, no," I said, trying not to seem confused; "Mrs.--Mrs. Williams, +I believe?" + +"You knew me better as Loulie Latham," she said pleasantly enough; but I +cannot say I liked her manner. There was something in it, though I could +not say what, that seemed like condescension, and she hardly mentioned +my children--and most people think them so pretty--though I saw her look +at them earnestly once or twice. + +Willie was the same good-hearted, hospitable fellow as ever, and begged +us to come in, and go all over his house, and see his studio that he had +built on, and his bric-à-brac. And a lovely house it was, full of +beautiful things, for he knew them, if he could not paint them, and +indeed he had a great talent for amateur carpentering. We wished he +would come to our houses and do little jobs to show his good-will, +instead of giving us his pictures; but we tried to say something nice +about them, and the frames were most elegant. Of course we saw a good +deal of Mrs. Williams, but I don't think any of us took to her. She was +very quiet, as she always had been, but with a difference. She was +perfectly polite, and I can't say she gave herself airs, exactly; but +there was something very like it in her seeming to be so well satisfied +with herself and her position, and caring so little whether she pleased +us or not. Of course we all invited them, and they accepted most of our +invitations when they were asked together, though she showed no great +eagerness to do so; but she would not join one of our morning clubs, and +had no reason to give. It could not be want of time, for we used to see +her dawdling about with her children all the morning, though we knew +that she had brought over an excellent, highly trained, Protestant North +German nurse for them. When we asked her to the dancing-class, she said +she never danced, and we had better not depend on her, but Mr. Williams +enjoyed it, and would be glad to come without her. We did not relish +this indifference, though it gave us an extra man, and Minnie Mason said +that it was not a good thing for a man to get into the way of going +about without his wife. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Williams, opening her great eyes with such an air +of utter ignorance that it was impossible to explain. It was easy to see +that she need not be afraid of trusting her husband out of her sight, +for a more devoted and admiring one I never saw, whether with her or +away from her talking of "Loulou" and her charms, as if sure of +sympathy. But we had our doubts as to how much she returned his +attachment, and Minnie said it was easy to see that she only tolerated +him; and we all thought her unappreciative, to say the least. He was +very much interested in her dress, and spent a great deal of time in +choosing and buying beautiful ornaments and laces and stuffs for her, +which she insisted on having made up in her own way, languidly remarking +that it was enough for Willie to make her a fright on canvas, without +doing so in real life. Blanche Livermore said she must have some +affection for him, to sit so much to him, for he had painted about a +hundred pictures of her in different styles, each one worse than the +last. You would have thought her hideous if you had only seen them; but +Willie's artist friends, some of them very distinguished, had painted +her too, and had made her into a regular beauty. Opinions differed about +her looks; but those who liked her the least had to allow that she was +fine-looking, though some said it was greatly owing to her style of +dress. We all called it shockingly conspicuous at first, and then went +home and tried to make our things look as much like hers as we possibly +could, which was very little; for, as we afterwards found out, they came +from a modiste at Paris who worked for only one or two private +customers, and whose costumes had a kind of combination of the +fashionable and the artistic which it seemed impossible for any one here +to hit. We used to wonder how poor Mrs. Latham would feel, could she +rise from her grave, to behold her daughter's gowns, tight as a glove, +and in the evening low and long to a degree, her high-heeled French +shoes, and everything her mother had thought most sinful. Her hair had +grown a deeper, richer shade abroad, and she had matched it to +perfection, and one of Willie's pictures of her, with the real and false +all down her back together, looked like the burning bush. She was in +slight mourning for an old great-uncle who had left her a nice little +sum of money; and we thought, if she were so inimitable now, what would +she be when she put on colours? + +We did better in modelling our children's clothes after hers, and I must +say she was very good-natured about lending us her patterns. She had a +boy and girl, beautiful little creatures, but they looked rather +delicate, which she did not seem to realise at all; she was very amiable +in her ways to them, but cool, just as she was to their father. + +It must be confessed that we spent a great deal of time at our clubs in +discussing her, especially at the Tolstoi Club; for, as Minnie remarked, +she seemed very much in the Russian style, and it was not disagreeable, +after all, to think that we might have such a "type," as they call it, +among us. + +Just as we had begun to get accustomed to Mrs. Williams's dresses, and +her beauty, and her nonchalance, and held up our heads again, she +knocked us all over with another ten-strike. It was after a little +dinner given for them at the Millikens', and a good many people had +dropped in afterward, as they were apt to do after our little dinners, +to which of course we could not ask all our set, however intimate. Mrs. +Reynolds had come out from Boston, and as she was by way of being very +musical, though she never performed, she eagerly asked Willie Williams, +when he mentioned having lived so long in Sicily, whether he had ever +seen Giudotti, the great composer, who had retired to the seclusion of +his native island in disgust with the world, which he thought was going, +musically speaking, to ruin. We listened respectfully, for most of us +did not remember hearing of the great Giudotti, but Willie replied +coolly: + +"Oh, yes; we met him often; he was my wife's teacher. Loulou, I wish you +would sing that little thing of Mickiewicz, '_Panicz i Dziewczyna_,' +which Giudotti set for you." + +Loulie was leaning back on a sofa across the room, lazily swaying her +big black lace fan. She had on a lovely gown of real black Spanish lace, +and a great bunch of yellow roses on her bosom, which you would not have +thought would have looked well with her red hair; but they suited her +"Venetian colouring," as her husband called it-- + + "Ni blanche ni cuivrée, mais dorée + D'un rayon de soleil." + +Willie's strong point, or his weak point, as you may consider it, was in +quotations. She did not seem any too well pleased with the request, and +replied that she hardly thought people would care to hear any music; it +seemed a pity to stop the conversation--for all but herself were +chattering as fast as they could. But of course we all caught at the +idea, and the hostess was pressing, and after every mortal in the room +had entreated her, she rose, still reluctantly, and walked across the +room to the piano, saying that she hoped they really would not mind the +interruption. + +It sounded fine to have something specially composed for her, but we +were accustomed to hear Fanny Deane, the most musical one among us, sing +things set for her by her teacher--indeed, rather more than we could +have wished; and I thought now to hear something of the same sort--some +weak little melody all on a few notes, in a muffled little voice, with a +word or two, such as "weinend," or "veilchen," or "frühling," or +"stella," or "bella," distinguishable here and there, according as she +sang in German or Italian. So you may imagine how I, as well as all the +rest, was struck when, without a single note of prelude, her deep, low +voice thrilled through the whole room: + + "Why so late in the wood, + Fair maid?" + +I never felt so lonely and eery in my life; and then in a moment the +wildly ringing music of the distant chase came, faint but growing nearer +all the time from the piano, while her voice rose sweeter and sadder +above it, till our pleasure grew more delicious as it almost melted into +pain. The adventures of the fair maid in the wood were, to say the +least, of a very compromising description; but we flattered ourselves +that our course of realistic fiction had made us less provincial and +old-fashioned, and we knew that nobody minded this sort of thing +abroad, especially the Russians, of whom we supposed Mickiewicz was one +till somewhat languidly set right by Mrs. Williams. + +After that her singing made a perfect sensation all about Boston, the +more because it was so hard to get her to sing. Her style was peculiar, +and was a good deal criticised by those who had never heard her. She +never sang anything any one else did--that is, anybody you might call +any one, for I have heard her sometimes sing something that had gone the +rounds of all the hand-organs, and make it sound new again; but many of +her songs were in manuscript, some composed for her by Giudotti, and +others old things that he had picked up for her--folk-songs, and +ballads, and such. She always accompanied herself, and never from any +notes, and very often differently for the same song. Sometimes she would +sing a whole verse through without playing a note, and then improvise +something between. She always sang in English, which we thought queer, +when she had lived so long abroad; but she said Giudotti had told her +always to use the language of her audience, and Willie, who had a pretty +turn for versifying, used to translate for her. We felt rather piqued +that she should ignore the fact that we too had studied languages, but +we all agreed that she knew how to set herself off, and indeed we +thought she carried her affectation beyond justifiable limits. She had +to be asked by every one in the room, and was always saying that it was +not worth hearing, and that she hoped people would tell her when they +had enough of it, though, indeed, she could rarely be induced to sing +more than twice. If her voice was praised, she said she had none; and +when she was asked to play, she would say she could not--she could only +accompany herself. A likely story--as if any one who could do that as +she could, could not play anything!--and we used to hear her, too, when +she was in her own house, with nobody there but her husband. As for him, +he overflowed with pride and delight in her music, and evidently much +more than pleased her, and sometimes he even made her blush--a thing she +rarely did--by his remarks, such as that if we really wanted to know how +Loulou could sing, we must hide in the nursery. It was while singing to +her baby, it appeared, that the great Giudotti had chanced to hear her, +and immediately implored the privilege of teaching her, for anything or +nothing. + +Minnie Mason said that it was impossible that a woman could sing like +that unless she had a history; and she spent much of her time and all of +her energy for several weeks in finding out what the history could be. +It was wonderful how ingeniously she put this and that together, until +one day at the club she told us the whole story, and we wondered that we +had never thought of it before. It seems that before Loulie Latham was +married there had been a love-affair between her and Walter Dana. It is +not known exactly how far it went, but her feelings were very much +involved. She was too young, poor thing, and too simple, to know that +Walter Dana was not at all a marrying man; he could not have afforded +it, if he had wanted to ever so much. He was the sort of young man, you +know, who never does manage to afford to marry, though in other respects +he seemed to get on well enough. He had passed down through several +generations of girls, and was now rather attentive, in a harmless, +general sort of way, to the married women, and came to our dances. + +"And then," said Minnie, "when he did not speak, and she was so suddenly +left alone, and nearly penniless, after her mother's death, and Willie +Williams was so much in love with her, and so pressing--though I don't +believe he was ever in love with her more than he was with a dozen other +girls, only the circumstances were such, you know, that he could hardly +help proposing, he's so generous and impulsive. But he is not exactly +the sort of man to fall in love with, and his oddities have evidently +worn upon her; and now she feels with bitter regret how different her +life might have been if she could have waited till her uncle left her +this money. Walter has got on better, and might be able to marry her +now, and she is young still--only twenty-nine. It is the wreck of two +lives, perhaps of three. Willie is most unsuspicious, but should he ever +find out----" + +We all shuddered with pleasurable horror at the thought that we were to +be spectators of a Russian novel in real life. + +"I have seen them together," went on Minnie, "and their tones and looks +were unmistakable. Surely you remember that Eliot Hall german he danced +with her, the winter before her mother's death--the only winter she ever +went into society; and I recollect now that he seemed very miserable +about something at the time of her marriage, only I never suspected why +then." + +"How very sad!" murmured Emmie Richards, a tender-hearted little thing. + +"It is sad," said Minnie, solemnly; "but love is a great and terrible +factor in life, and elective affinities are not to be judged by +conventional rules." + +For my own part, I thought Willie Williams a great deal nicer and more +attractive than Walter Dana, except, to be sure, that Walter did talk +and look like other people. Perhaps, I said, things were not quite so +bad as Minnie made them out. It was to be hoped that poor Loulie would +pause at the brink. A great many such stories, especially American ones, +never come to anything, except that the heroine lives on, pining, with a +blighted life; and I thought, if that were all, Willie was not the kind +of man who would mind it much. Very likely he would never know it. + +Blanche Livermore said the idea of a woman pining all her days was +nonsense. All girls had affairs, but after they were married the cares +of a family soon knocked them all out of their heads. To be sure, +Blanche's five boys were enough to knock anything out; but Minnie told +us all afterward, separately, in confidence, that it was a little +jealousy on her part, because she had been once rather smitten with +Walter Dana herself. This seemed very realistic; and I must say my own +observations confirmed the truth of Minnie's story. Mrs. Williams did +look at times conscious and disturbed. One night, too, Tom and I called +on them to make arrangements about some concert tickets. Willie welcomed +us in his usual cordial fashion, saying Loulou would be down directly; +and in ten minutes or so down she came, in one of her loveliest evening +dresses, white embroidered crape, with a string of large amber beads +round her throat. + +"I am afraid you are going out, Mrs. Williams; don't let us detain you." + +"Not at all," she said, with her usual indifference. "We are not going +anywhere. I was waiting upstairs to see the children tucked up in their +beds." + +It seemed like impropriety of behaviour in no slight degree to fag out +one's best clothes at home in that aimless way, but when in ten minutes +more Mr. Walter Dana walked in, her guilt was more plainly manifest, and +I shuddered to think what a tragedy was weaving round us. Only a day or +two after, I met her alone, near nightfall, hurrying toward her home, +and with something so odd about her whole air and manner that I stopped +short and asked, rather officiously perhaps, if Mr. Williams and the +children were well. + +"Oh, yes; very--very well, indeed!" she threw back, in a quick, defiant +tone, very unlike her usual self; and then, as I looked at her, I +perceived to my dismay, that she was crying bitterly. I felt so awkward +that I did not know what to say, and I stood staring, while she pulled +down her veil with a jerk, and hurried on. I could not help going into +Minnie's to ask her what she thought it could mean. Minnie, of course, +knew all about it. + +"She has been in here, and I have been giving her a piece of my mind. I +hope it will do her good. Crying, was she? I am very glad of it." + +"But, Minnie! how could you? how did you dare to? how did you begin?" I +asked in amazement, heightened by the disrespectful way in which Minnie +had dealt with elective affinities. + +"Oh, very easily. I began about her children, and said how very delicate +they looked, and that we all thought they needed a great deal of care." + +"But she does seem to take a great deal of care of them. She has them +with her most of the time." + +"Yes; that's just it. She always has them, because she wants to use them +for a cover. I am sure she takes them out in very unfit weather, and +keeps them out too long, just for a pretext to be strolling about with +him." + +"You certainly have more courage than I could muster up," I said. "What +else did you say?" + +"I did not say anything else out plainly; but I saw she understood +perfectly well what I meant." + +"I don't see how you ever dared to do it." + +"It is enough to make one do something to live next door to her as I do. +You know that Walter Dana has not been at either of the two last +dancing-classes. Well, it is just because he has been there, spending +the whole evening with her alone. I have been kept at home myself, and +have seen him with my own eyes going away before Mr. Williams gets home. +I can see their front gate from where I sit now, and the electric light +strikes full on every one who comes and goes." + +I thought this was about enough, but we were to have yet more positive +proof. One evening, soon after, we were all at the Jenkses'. It was a +large party, and the rooms were hot and crowded. The Williamses were +there, and Walter Dana; but he did not go near Loulie; he paid her no +more attention in company than anybody else--from motives of policy, +most probably--and she was even quieter than usual, and seemed weary and +depressed. Mrs. Jenks asked her to sing, and she refused with more than +her ordinary decision. "She would rather not sing to-night, if Mrs. +Jenks did not mind," and this refusal she repeated without variation. +But Mrs. Jenks did mind very much; she had asked some people from a +distance, on purpose to hear Mrs. Williams, and when she had implored in +vain, and made all her guests do so too, she finally, in despair, +directed herself to Mr. Williams, who seemed in very good spirits, as he +always did in company. It was enough for him to know that Professor +Perkins and Judge Wheelwright depended on hearing his wife, to rouse +his pride at once, and I heard him say to her coaxingly: + +"Come, Loulou, don't you think you could sing a little?" + +Loulou said something in so low a tone that I could not catch a word. + +"Yes, dear, I know; but I really don't think there's any reason for +it--and they have all come to hear you, and it seems disobliging not +to." + +Again Loulie's reply was inaudible, all but the last words, "Cannot get +through with it." + +"Oh, yes, you will. Come, darling, won't you? Just once, to oblige me. +It won't last long." + +Loulie still looked most unwilling, but she rose, more as if too tired +to contest the point than anything else, and walked over to the piano. +Her cheeks were burning, but I saw her shiver as she sat down. Her +husband followed her, looking a little anxious, and I wondered if they +had been having a scene. Surely the course of dissimulation she was +keeping up must have its inevitable effect on her nerves and temper, but +her voice rang out as thrilling and triumphant as ever. She sang an +English song to the old French air _Musette de Nina_. It was a silly, +sentimental thing, all about parted loves and hopeless regrets; but the +most foolish words used to sound grandly expressive as she gave them. +When she came to the last line, "The flowers of life will never bloom +more," at "never" her accompaniment stopped, her voice shook, struggled +with the next words, paused, and a look of despair transformed her whole +face. I followed the direction of her eyes, and caught sight of Walter +Dana, just visible in the doorway, and, like every other mortal in the +room, gazing on her in rapt attention. It was like looking on a soul in +torture, and we all shuddered as we saw it. What must it have been for +him? He grew crimson, and made an uneasy movement, which seemed to break +the spell; for, Loulie, rousing herself with an effort, struck a ringing +chord, and taking up the words on a lower note, carried them through to +the end, her voice gaining strength with the repetition that the air +demanded. No one asked her to sing again; and when she rose Walter Dana +had disappeared, and the Williamses left very soon afterward. + +Things had come to such a pass now that we most sincerely repented our +desire for a Tolstoi novel among us; and if this was life as it was in +Russia, we heartily wished it could be confined to that country. We felt +that something shocking was sure to happen soon, and so it did; but if +you go through with an earthquake, I am told, it never seems at all like +what you expected, and this came in a most unlooked-for way. It was on +a day when our Tolstoi Club met at Minnie Mason's, and she looked really +ill and miserable. She said she had enough to make her so; and when we +were all assembled, she asked one of us to shut all the doors, lest the +servants should hear us, and then took out, from a locked drawer in her +desk, a newspaper. It was the kind of paper that we had always regarded +as improper to buy, or even to look at, and we wondered how Minnie had +ever got hold of it; but she unfolded it nervously, and showed us a +marked passage: + + "It is rumoured that proceedings for a divorce will soon be + taken by a prominent Boston artist, whose lovely wife is + widely known in first-class musical circles. The + co-respondent is an old admirer of the lady's, as well as an + intimate friend of her husband's." + +We all read these words with horror, and Emmie Richards began to cry. + +"We ought to have done _something_ to prevent it," said Blanche, +decidedly. + +"What could we do?" said I. + +"Poor Willie hasn't a relation who could look after those children," +murmured Bessie Milliken. + +We all felt moved to offer our services upon the spot, but just then +there came a loud ring at the door-bell. We all started. It could not be +a belated member of the club, for we always walked right in. Minnie had +given orders, as usual, to be denied to any chance caller; but in a +moment the door opened, and the maid announced that Mr. Williams was in +the hall, and wished to see Mrs. Mason. + +"Ask Mr. Williams, Ellen, if he will please to leave a message; tell him +I am engaged with my Tolstoi Club." + +"I did, ma'am; but he says he wishes to see the club. He says it is on +very particular business, ma'am," as Minnie hesitated, and looked for +our opinion. Our amazement was so great that it deprived us of words, +and Minnie, after a moment, could only bow her head in silent +affirmation to the girl, who vanished directly. Could Mrs. Williams have +eloped, and had her husband rushed round to claim the sympathy of his +female friends, among whom were so many of his old flames? It was a most +eccentric proceeding, but we felt that if any man were capable of it, it +was poor Willie. But even this conjecture failed, and our very reason +seemed forsaking us, as Mr. Williams walked into the room, followed by +Mr. Walter Dana, who looked rather awkward on the occasion, while +Willie, on the contrary, was quite at his ease, and was faultlessly +dressed in a London walking-suit of the newest cut; for he had plenty of +such things, though he hated to wear them. He carried a large note-case +in his hand. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Mason," he began, "good-morning--" with a bow that +took us all in; and without an invitation, which Minnie was too confused +to give, he comfortably settled himself on a vacant chair, which +proceeding Mr. Dana imitated, though with much less self-assurance, +while his conductor, as he appeared to be, went on: "I beg your pardon +for disturbing you; but I am sorry to find that you have been giving +credence, if not circulation, to some very unpleasant and utterly false +rumours concerning my wife's character. I do not know, nor do I care to +know, how they originated, but I wish to put a stop to them; and as Mr. +Dana is the other person chiefly concerned in them, I have brought him +with me." + +I believe we felt as if we should like to sink into the earth; nay, it +seemed to me that we must have done so, and come out in China, where +everything is different. Willie Williams, without a lisp, without a +smile, grave as a judge, and talking like a lawyer opening a case--it +was a transformation to inspire any one with awe. He saw that we were +frightened, and proceeded in a milder tone, but one equally strange in +our ears. + +"Don't think I mean to blame you. I know women will talk, and I do not +believe any of you meant the least harm, or dreamed of things going as +far as they have. Indeed, Louise [!] attaches no importance to +it whatever. She says it is only idle gossip, and will die out if let +alone, and she did not wish me to take any notice of it; but I felt that +I must do so on my own account, if not on hers. I don't care what trash +gets into such journals as that," and he looked scornfully at the +unhappy newspaper, which we wished we had never touched with a pair of +tongs; "but I do not want our friends and neighbours to think more +meanly of me than I deserve, when I have it in my power to put a stop to +it at once. Mr. Dana, is it true that you and Mrs. Williams were ever in +love with each other?" + +"It is not," replied Mr. Dana, who began to take courage under the +skilful peroration of his chief. "I was never on any terms with Mrs. +Williams, when she was Miss Latham, but those of the very slightest, +and, of course, most respectful acquaintance. I don't believe we ever +exchanged a dozen words." + +"I believe you," murmured Blanche Livermore, who sat next to me, and +whose unruly tongue nothing could long subdue; and indeed we had none +of us supposed that Loulie Latham conducted her love-affairs by means of +conversation. + +"Did you dance the german with her at the Eliot Hall Assembly on January +4, 188-?" + +"I regret very much that I never had the pleasure of dancing the german +with Mrs. Williams. At the party to which you refer I danced with Miss +Wilmerding." + +We all remembered Alice Wilmerding and her red hair, just the shade of +Loulie Latham's, but which had not procured her an artist for a husband; +indeed, it had not procured any at all, for she was still single. + +"Neither," pursued Willie Williams, "is there any truth in the report +that Louise was obliged to marry me for a support. She had no need to do +so, being possessed of very sufficient means of her own, as I can show +by her bank-account at that date." + +How he had got hold of every scrap we had said to one another, and even +of all we had thought, we could not imagine then, but we afterward found +out that he had procured every item from the editor of that horrid +paper, under threats of instant personal and legal attack; and as to how +this person happened to know so much, I can only advise you not to say +or think anything you would be ashamed to have known while there are +such papers in existence. + +"The only reason that Loulou and I married each other," went on Loulou's +husband, "is that we loved each other; and we love each other now, if +possible, twice as much as we did then. If you think she does not care +for me because she is not demonstrative in company, you are mistaken. +She gives me as much proof of it as I want. We all have our +peculiarities, and I know I have a great many which she puts up with +better than most women would. Of course I don't expect her to be without +hers either; but they don't trouble me any more than mine do her, and, +besides, most of what has struck you as singular in her behaviour can be +easily explained. You have thought she was conceited about her music, +but it's no such thing; she has not an atom of conceit in her; indeed, +she thinks too humbly of herself. She has heard so much music of the +highest class that she thinks little of any drawing-room performance, +her own or anybody else's, and her reluctance to sing is genuine, for +she has a horror of being urged or complimented out of mere politeness. +You are not pleased, I hear" [_how_ could he know that?], "that she +refused to join all your clubs and classes; one reason was that she +really did not care to. Every one has a right to one's own taste; she +has met a great deal of artistic and literary society abroad, and has +become accustomed to live among people who are doing something; and it +is tedious to her to go about so much with people who are always talking +about things, as we are given to do here. She is really fond of hard +reading, as but few women are; and she likes better, for instance, to +stay at home and spend her time in reading Dante by herself in the +original, than to go to a club and hear him talked over, with a little +skimming from a translation interspersed. She dresses to please me and +herself, and not to be envied or admired; and if she has a fondness for +pretty clothes for their own sake, that is not surprising, when she had +so little chance to indulge it when she was a girl." + +Here he paused, and it was high time, for we were growing restive under +the catalogue of his wife's virtues; but in a moment he resumed. + +"There is another reason, too, why she has not been more sociable with +you all. You don't know how unhappy Loulou is about her children; but +you do know, perhaps, that we have lost two,"--here his voice faltered +slightly, with some faint suggestion of the Willie Williams of our old +acquaintance,--"and she is terribly afraid that the others will not live +to grow up. I don't think them as fragile as she does; but they do look +delicate, there's no denying it. We came home, and here, very much on +their account; but yours are all so healthy and blooming that it's +almost too much for poor Loulou sometimes, especially when people--" he +was considerate enough not to look at Minnie--"tell her that they look +poorly, and that she ought to be more careful of them. How can she be? +She is always with them--more than is good for her; but she has an idea +that they won't eat as much as they ought, or go to sleep when they +should, without her; and she never leaves them at lunch, which is, of +course, their dinner. I think she is a little morbid about them, but I +can't torment her to leave it off; and I hope, as they get older and +stronger, she'll be more cheerful. It is this that makes her out of +spirits sometimes, and not any foolish nonsense about being in love with +anybody else." + +"_Mon âne parle, et même il parle bien!_" whispered the incorrigible +Blanche, and though I don't think it fair to call Willie Williams an ass +at any time, our surprise at his present fluency was nearly as great as +the prophet's. He seemed now to have made an end of what he wished to +say, but Mr. Dana, whose presence we had nearly forgotten, looked at him +meaningly, as if in request. + +"Oh, yes--I had forgotten--but it is only due to Mr. Dana to say that he +has been coming to my house a good deal lately on business. I would tell +you all about it, but it's rather private." But, humbled as we were, we +could not hear this without a protesting murmur, disclaiming all vulgar +curiosity. I did, indeed, wonder for a moment if he were painting +Walter's portrait; if he were, I did not think it strange that the +latter looked a little sheepish about it; but I afterward found out +through Tom that it concerned some good offices of them both for an old +friend in distress. "When he came to my house in the evening when I was +out, it was to meet another person, and Mrs. Williams, half the time, +never saw either of them. As to that song at Mrs. Jenks's party, which, +I hear, created so much comment, she was feeling very unhappy that night +because little Violet had a cold, and she thought she might have made a +mistake in trying to keep her out, and toughen her, as you do your +children here. Perhaps that heightened her expression; but as to +breaking down on the last line of the song, that effect was one of +Giudotti's lessons, and he taught her how to give that look. He always +said she had the making of a great tragic actress in her. She does try +to look at the wall," went on Willie, simply, "but it was so crowded +there that she could not, and Mr. Dana could not help standing in the +way of it. I think I have said all I need say--and I hope you won't mind +it or think I am very impertinent, but I couldn't bear to have this +thing going on; and I hope we shall all be as good friends as we were +before, and that it will all be very soon forgotten." And he bowed and +departed, followed by Mr. Dana, with alacrity. + +We were doubtful as to these happy results. We could all admire Willie +Williams for standing up so gallantly for his wife, but we did not like +her any the better for being so successfully stood up for, and we felt +that we could never forget the unpleasant sensation he had given us. It +took a long course of seeing him in his old shape and presentment among +us--working in the same flamboyant clothes, at paintings as execrable as +ever; with the same lisp, and the same trip and jerk, and the same easy +good nature, and trifling enthusiasms--to forget that he had ever +inspired us with actual fear, and might again, though he never has. We +came also, in course of time, to like Loulou better, though it was +rather galling to see how little she heeded the matter that cost us all +so much remorse; but she lost her reserve in great measure as her +children grew healthier and more like other people's. I think the +hatchet was fairly buried for good and all when, in another year, she +had another baby, a splendid boy weighing nine pounds and three +quarters, at whose birth more enthusiasm was manifested in Babyland than +on any similar occasion before, and who was loaded with the most +beautiful presents, one in particular from Minnie Mason, who was much +better, for her recovery of health dates from that sudden incursion into +our Tolstoi Club, and the shock it gave her. + +I should have said as to that, that after the men had left us Blanche +Livermore exclaimed, "Well, girls, I think we are pretty sufficiently +crushed!" + +This was generous of Blanche, when she was the only one among us who had +ever expressed any incredulity as to the "Russian novel," as we called +it. "The fact is," she went on, "I have come to the conclusion that we +have not yet advanced to the realistic period here; we are living in the +realms of the ideal; and, what is worse, I fear I am so benighted that I +like it best; don't you?" And, encouraged by an inarticulate but +affirmatory murmur from all of us, she proceeded: + +"Let us all agree to settle down contentedly behind the age in our +provinciality; and, that we may keep so, let us cut the realists in +fiction, and take up something they don't approve of. I vote that we +devote the rest of the season to a good thorough course of Walter +Scott!" + +And so we did. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +A LITTLE FOOL + + +"What, my dear Marian! And do you really and truly mean to say you +thought of taking the girl without going to ask her character!" + +"There are so many difficulties about it. You see, she lived last with +Mrs. Donald Craighead for two years, and that would be quite enough for +a character. They all went abroad in a great hurry on account of Mr. +Craighead's health, and Mrs. Craighead promised to give her one, but +forgot it, and she couldn't bear to bother them when they were all in +such trouble. I know myself that all that about them is true." + +"So do I; but that does not prove that she ever lived with them. Cannot +she refer to any of the family?" + +"No; she did nothing but laundry work there, and never saw any of their +friends, I fancy; but she does have a written character from the family +she lived with before them, very nice people in South Boston." + +"What's their name?" + +"I don't remember," said Miss Marian Carter, blushing, "but I have it +written down at home." + +"I should certainly go there, if I were you." + +"It is so far off, and I never went there in my life." + +"Well, you ought. It sounds very suspicious. Of course there are a few +nice people in South Boston; they have to live there because they own +factories and things, and have to be near them; but then, again, there +are such dreadful neighbourhoods there. Most likely she depends on your +not taking the trouble, and you will find the number she gave you over +some low grog-shop." + +"Oh, I should be so frightened! I really do not think I can go!" + +"You surely ought not to risk taking her without, and very likely have +her turn out an accomplice of burglars, like that Norah of mine, through +whom I lost so much silver." + +"I thought you had a character with her." + +"So I did, or I should not have taken her. I make it a principle not to. +It only shows how great the danger is with a character; without one it +amounts to a certainty." + +"She was such a nice-looking girl!" + +"That makes no difference. I always mistrust maids who look too nice. +They are sure to have some story, or scrape, or something, like that +Florence of mine, who looked so much of a lady, and turned out to be a +clergyman's daughter, and had run away from her husband--a most +respectable man. He came to the house after her, and gave no end of +trouble." + +"But this girl did not look at all like that; not a bit above her place, +but so neatly dressed, and with a plain, sensible way about her; and her +name is Drusilla Elms--such a quaint, old-fashioned, American-sounding +name, quite refreshing to hear." + +"It sounds very like an assumed name. The very worst woman I ever had +was named Bathsheba Fogg; she turned out to have been a chorus girl at +some low theatre, and must have picked it up from some farce or other." + +"Then you really think I ought to go to South Boston?" + +"I should do so in your place," replied Mrs. William Treadwell. + +This gave but scant encouragement, for Marian could not but feel that +the result of her friend's going and that of her own, might be very +different; and Mrs. Treadwell, as she watched her visitor off, smiled +good-humouredly, but pityingly. "Poor dear Marian! What a little fool +she is to swallow everything that she is told in that way! It is a +wonder that the Carters ever have a decent servant in their house." + +However much of a wonder it might be, it was still a fact; but it did +not occur to Marian, as she bent her way homeward, to revive her feeble +self-confidence, crushed flat by her friend's scorn, with any +recollection that such fearful tales as she had just heard were without +a parallel in her own experience. It is to be feared that she was a +little fool, though she kept her mother's house very well and carefully, +if, indeed, it were her mother's house. Nobody but the tax-gatherer knew +to whom it really belonged, and he forgot between each assessment. It +stood on Burroughs street, Jamaica Plain, a neighbourhood that still +boasts an air of dignified repose. It was without the charm of a really +old-fashioned house, or even such as may be possessed by a modern +imitation of one; indeed it bore the stamp of that unfortunate period +which may be called the middle age of American architecture, extending, +at a rough estimate, from 1820 to 1865; but it was a well-built house, +and looked, as at present inhabited, a pleasant abode enough, of +sufficient size to accommodate a numerous female flock--Marian's +grandmother and her great-aunt, her mother and her aunt, her widowed +sister and two children, a trained nurse who was treated as one of the +family, three servants, and Marian herself to make up the round dozen. +The grandmother had lost the use of her limbs, and the great-aunt that +of her mind; the mother and the trained nurse were devoted to them, and +the aunt to philanthropic objects, and the sister to her children; so +the housekeeper's duties devolved on Marian, though she was still but a +child in her elders' eyes, and were well discharged, as they all +allowed, though qualifying their praise with the remark that it was +"easy enough to keep a house without a man in it." + +As Marian Carter passed along bustling, suburban Centre Street, she +looked a very flower of the Western world of feminine liberty; fine and +fair, free and fearless, coming and going at her own pleasure, on foot +or by the horse-cars, those levellers of privilege; no duenna to track +her steps, no yashmak or veil to hide her charms. Yet the fact was that +she knew less of men than if she had lived in a harem or a convent. She +had no sultan, no father confessor. She could not, like Miss Pole of +Cranford memory, claim to know the other sex by virtue of her father +having been a man, for Marian's father had died before she was born. Her +sister Isabel and she had had friends, and had gone into society in a +mild way, and being pretty girls, had met with a little general +attention, but nothing ever came of it. The family never entertained, +except now and then an old friend to tea, their means and opportunity +being small; nor could young men venture to call. The grandmother had +been a great invalid before she lost the use of her limbs, and the +great-aunt a formidable person before she lost that of her mind, while +Aunt Caroline from her youth upward had developed a great distaste for +the society of men, even when viewed as objects of philanthropy. + +When Isabel was four and twenty she went to New York to visit some +cousins, and though they lived very quietly, she made the acquaintance +of a young civil engineer, at home on a vacation from his work in the +United States of Colombia, who had married and borne her off after the +briefest possible courtship, never to see her old home again till she +came back, ten years after, a widow with two children, to eke out her +small means by the shelter of the family abode. I cannot delay the +humiliating confession, postponed as long as may be for the sake of the +artistic unity of my picture, that the youngest of these children was a +boy, if, as his mother was wont to plead, "a very little one." He was +dressed in as unboyish a fashion as possible, and being christened +Winthrop, was always called Winnie. He was a quiet, gentle child, kept +down by his position; but though thus made the best of, he was felt to +be an inconvenience and an encumbrance, if not now, certainly in the +future. There was no end to the trouble it would make when Winnie grew +older, and required a room to himself, and would be obliged to go to a +boys' school, which might even lead up to the direful contingency of his +"bringing home other boys." + +After Isabel's departure, Marian, though the prettier of the two, found +it dull to go about alone. No one asked her to New York; the cousin had +died, and the cousin's husband had married again; and when she grew past +the dancing age, perhaps earlier than she need, she went nowhere where +she had any chance of meeting any men but the husbands of one or two +married friends, and she was such a little fool that she fancied they +despised her for being an old maid. She knew she was five-and-thirty on +her last birthday, and was foolish enough to be afraid and ashamed of +owning to it. She need not have done so, for she did not look a day +older than twenty-five; but the memories of her contemporaries were +pitiless. + +She enjoyed her housekeeping, which gave her life some object, and her +intercourse with her butcher, a fine young fellow who admired her +hugely, was the nearest approach to a love-affair in which she had ever +indulged, so much sentiment did he contrive to throw about the legs of +mutton and the Sunday roast. Though honestly thinking herself happy, +and her position a fortunate one, she relished a change, which seldom +came, and was glad of the prospect of a visit to South Boston, now that +she could conscientiously say she ought to go since Emma Treadwell had +ordered it. The excitement of going off the beaten track was heightened +by the mystery which invested the affair. Marian had not dared to +confess to her managing friend that the "written character" to which she +referred had struck her rather oddly when the neat, civil, young, but +not too young woman whose appearance had so favourably impressed her had +handed it to her with an air which seemed to indicate that nothing more +need be said on the subject, although it only said, "Drusilla Elms +refers by permission to ---- Hayward, City Point, South Boston," in a +great, scrawling, masculine-looking hand. The name was easy enough to +read, a painful effort having evidently been made to write thus much +legibly; but the title, be it Mr., Mrs., or Miss, was so utterly +unreadable that Marian, who dreaded, like most timid people, to put a +direct question, ventured upon an indirect one: + +"Is--Mr. Hayward a widower?" + +"Oh, dear, no, ma'am!" replied Drusilla, emphatically. + +"And--they--still live there?" + +"Oh, dear, yes, ma'am!" + +Marian was very glad that the Saturday she chose for her expedition was +Aunt Caroline's day for the Women's and Children's Hospital, and that +Isabel had taken Minna and Winnie for a holiday trip into town to see +the Art Museum, which left fewer people at home to whom to explain her +errand, and to whose comments to reply. Mrs. Carter said it was silly to +go so far, and if she couldn't be satisfied to take the girl without, +she had better find some one near by. The trained nurse, who was slowly +but surely getting the whole household under her control, said that Miss +Carter's beautiful new spring suit would be ruined going all the way to +South Boston in the horse-cars; and Mrs. Carter, who would never have +thought of this herself, seconded her. Marian did not argue the point, +but she wore the dress nevertheless. She never felt that anything she +wore made any impression on any one she knew, but she could not help +fancying that if she had the chance she might impress strangers. No one +she knew ever called her pretty, and perhaps five-and-thirty was too old +to be thought so; and yet, if there was any meaning in the word, it +might surely be applied to the soft, shady darkness of her hair and +eyes, and the delicate bloom of her cheeks and lips, set off by that +silver-grey costume, with its own skilfully blended lights and shades of +silk and cashmere, and the purple and white lilacs that were wreathed +together on her small bonnet. She made a bad beginning, for while still +enjoying the effect of her graceful draperies as she entered the +horse-car for Boston, she carelessly caught the handle of her nice grey +silk sunshade in the door, and snapped it short in the middle. She could +have cried, though the man who always mended their umbrellas assured +her, with a bow and smile, that it should be mended, when she called for +it on her way back, "so that she would never know it;" but it deprived +her costume of the finishing touch, and she really needed it on this +warm sunny day; then, it was a bad omen, and she was foolish enough to +believe in omens. Her disturbance prevented her from observing much of +the route after she had drifted into a car for South Boston, and had +assured herself that it was the right one. Perhaps this was as well, as +the first part of the way was sufficiently uninviting to have frightened +her out of her intention had she looked about her. When at last she did, +they were passing along a wide street lined with sufficiently +substantial brick buildings, chiefly devoted to business, crossed by +narrower ones of small wooden houses more or less respectable in +appearance; but surely no housemaid who would suit them could ever have +served in one of these. Great rattling drays squeezed past the car, and +Chinese laundrymen noiselessly got in and out. The one landmark she had +heard of in South Boston, and for aught she knew the reason of its +existence, was the Perkins Institution for the Blind, which her Aunt +Caroline sometimes visited. But she passed the Institution, and still +went on and on. That the world extended so far in that direction was an +amazement in itself; she knew that there must be something there to fill +up, but she had had a vague idea that it might be water, which is so +accommodating in filling up the waste spaces of the terrestrial globe. +Finally the now nearly empty car came to a full stop at the foot of a +hill, the track winding off around it, and the conductor, of whom she +had asked her way, approached her with the patronising deference which +men in his position were very apt to assume to her: "Lady, you'll have +to get out here, and walk up the hill. Keep straight ahead, and you +can't miss it." + +"And can I take the car here when I come back?" asked Marian, clinging +as if to an ark of refuge. + +"Oh, yes," said the man, encouragingly; "we're along every ten minutes. +It ain't far off." + +Marian slowly touched one little foot, and then another, to the unknown +and almost foreign soil of South Boston. She looked wistfully after the +car till it turned a corner, and left her stranded, before she began +slowly to climb the hill. It was warm, and she missed her sunshade. "I +shall be shockingly burned!" she thought. She looked about her, and +acknowledged that the street was a pleasant, sunny one, and that its +commonplace architecture gained in picturesqueness by its steep ascent. +As she neared the top the houses grew larger, scattered among garden +grounds, and she at last found the number she looked for on the +gate-post of one of the largest. She walked up a brick-paved path to the +front door between thick box borders, inclosing beds none too well +weeded, but whose bowery shrubs and great clumps of old-fashioned bulbs +and perennials had acquired the secure possession of the soil that comes +with age. Behind them were grape-vines trained on trellises, over which +rose the blossoming heads of tall old cherry-trees, and through the +interstices in the flowery wall might be caught glimpses of an old +garden where grass and flowers and vegetables mingled at haphazard. It +dated from the days when people planted gardens with a view to what they +could get out of them, regardless of effect; and the house, in like +manner, had been built to live in rather than to look at. No one could +say how it had looked before trees had shaded it and creepers enveloped +it so completely. The veranda which ran around it was well sheltered +from the street, fortunately, thought Marian, for the bamboo chairs and +sofas, piled up with rugs and cushions, with which it was crowded, were +heaped with newspapers, and hats, and tennis-rackets, and riding-whips, +and garden-tools, and baskets, tossed carelessly about. On the door-mat +lay a large dog, who flopped his tail up and down with languid courtesy +as she approached. She was terribly afraid of him, but thought it safer +to face him than to turn her back upon him, and edging by him, gave a +feeble ring at the door-bell. No one came. She rang again with more +energy, and then, after a brief pause, the door was opened by a +half-grown boy. + +Marian only knew a very few families who aspired to have their doors +opened by anything more than a parlour-maid, and these had butlers of +unimpeachable respectability. But this young person had a bright, but +roguish look, which accorded better with the page of farce than with one +of real life. He seemed surprised to see her, though he bowed civilly. + +"Is Mrs. Hayward at home?" asked Marian, in the most dulcet of small +voices; and as he looked at her with a stare that seemed as if it might +develop into a grin, she added, "or any of the ladies of the family? I +only wish to see one of them on business." + +"Walk in, please, ma'am, and I'll see," faltered the porter, appearing +perplexed; and he opened the door, and ushered Marian across a wide hall +with a great, old-fashioned staircase at the further end--a place that +would have had no end of capabilities about it in a modern decorator's +eyes, but which looked now rather bare and unfurnished, save for pegs +loaded with hats and coats, and stands of umbrellas--into a long, low +room that looked crowded enough. Low bookcases ran around the walls, and +there were a great many tables heaped with books and magazines, and a +piano littered with music in a most slovenly condition; a music-stand or +two, and a violin and violoncello in their cases clustered about it. The +walls over the books were hung with old portraits, which looked as if +they might be valuable; among them were squeezed in whips, and long +pipes on racks, and calendars, and over them were hung horns and heads +of unknown beasts, whose skins lay on the floor. Over the fireplace hung +a sword and a pair of pistols in well-worn cases, but they were free +from dust, which many of the furnishings were not. The long windows at +the side opened on to the veranda, which was even more carelessly +strewed with the family possessions than at the front door, and from +which steps led down to a tennis-court in faultless trim, the only +orderly spot on the premises. + +What a poor housekeeper Mrs. Hayward must be! She must let the men of +the family do exactly as they pleased, and there must be at least half a +dozen of them, while not a trace of feminine occupation was to be seen. +No servant from here could hope to suit the Carter household, no matter +how good a character she brought. But somehow the intensely masculine +air of the place had a wild fascination for Marian herself, in spite of +warning remembrances of how much her family would be shocked. There was +something delicious in the freedom with which letters and papers were +tossed about, and books piled up anywhere, while their proper homes +stood vacant, and in the soothing, easy tolerance with which persecuted +dust was allowed to find a quiet resting-place. A pungent and pleasing +perfume pervaded the premises, which seemed appropriate and agreeable to +her delicate senses, even though she supposed it must be tobacco-smoke. +She had smelled tobacco only as it exhaled from passers in the street, +and surely this fine, ineffable aroma came from a different source than +theirs! While she daintily inhaled it as she looked curiously about, her +ears became aware of singular sounds--a subdued scuffling and scraping +at the door at the further end of the room, and a breathing at its +keyhole, which gave her an unpleasant sensation of being watched; and +she instantly sat stiffly upright and looked straight before her, her +heart beating with wonder and affright lest the situation might prove +actually dangerous. The sounds suddenly ceased, and in a moment more a +halting step was heard outside, and a gentleman came in at the other +door--a tall man, whose hair was thick, but well sprinkled with grey; +whose figure, lean and lank, had a certain easy swing about its motions, +in spite of a very perceptible limp; and whose face, brown and thin, and +marred by a long scar right across the left cheek, had something +attractive in its expression as he came forward with a courteous, +expectant look. Marian could only bow. + +"I beg your pardon; did you wish to see me?" inquired the stranger, in a +deep, low voice that sounded as if it might be powerful on occasion. + +"Oh, I am very sorry to trouble you! I only wanted to see the mistress +of the house, if she is able----" + +"I am afraid I am the only person who answers to that description." +There was a good-natured twinkle in his eye, and he had a pleasant +smile, but his evident amusement abashed her. "I keep my own house," he +went on. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought there was a Mrs. Hayward!" + +"I am sorry to say that there is none. But I am Mr. Hayward, and shall +be very glad if I can be of any service to you." + +"I don't want to disturb you," said Marian, blushing deeply, while Mr. +Hayward, with, "Will you allow me?" drew up a chair and sat down, as if +to put her more at her ease. "It is only--only--" here she came to a +dead stop. "I do not want to take up so much of your time," she +confusedly stammered. + +"Not at all; I shall be very happy--" he paused too, not knowing how to +fill up the blank, and waited quietly, while Marian sought frantically +in her little bag for a paper which was, of course, at the very bottom. +"It is only," she began again--"only to ask you about the character of a +chambermaid named Drusilla--yes, Drusilla Elms. I think it must be you +she refers to; at least I copied the address from the reference she +showed me; here it is," handing him the slip of paper; and as he took +out his eyeglass to study it, "only I couldn't tell--I didn't +know--whether it was Mr., or Mrs., or what it was before the name, I am +very sorry." + +"So am I. It has been the great misfortune of my life, I assure you, +that I write such a confounded--such an execrable hand. Pray accept my +apologies for it." + +"Oh, it was not a bad hand!--not at all! It was my own stupidity! I +suppose you really did give her the character, then?" + +"In spite of your politeness, I am afraid I too plainly recognise the +bewildering effect of my own scrawl. I think I must have given her the +reference, though I don't remember doing so." + +"The name is so peculiar----" + +"Yes; but the fact is that our old Catherine, who has been cook here for +a longer time than I can reckon, generally engages our other maid for +us, and she dislikes to change the name, and calls them all Margaret. I +think we had a very nice Margaret two years ago, but I will go and ask +Catherine; she may recollect." + +"Oh, don't trouble yourself! I have no doubt that you are quite +right--none at all!" + +"But I have so many doubts, I should like to be a little surer; and if +you will excuse me for a moment--well! _What_, in the devil's name, are +you up to now?" + +It must be explained that by this time he had reached the further door, +and that the sudden close of his speech was addressed, not to Marian, +but to some invisible person, or rather persons; for the subdued +laughter which responded, the very equivalent to a girlish giggle, +surely came from more than one pair of boyish lungs. Some stifled +speech, too, was heard, to which the master of the house replied, "Go to +----, then, and be quick about it!" as he closed the door behind him, +leaving Marian trembling with apprehension lest he might be mad or +drunk. And yet if this were swearing, and she feared it was, there was +something gratifying in the sound of a good, round, mouth-filling oath, +especially when contrasted with the extreme and punctilious deference of +his speech to her. He came back in a moment, and, standing before her +with head inclined, said, as if apologising for some misdeed of his own: + +"I am very sorry, but Catherine is out, doing her marketing. She will +probably return soon, if you do not mind waiting." + +"Oh, no!" said Marian, shocked with the idea that her presence might be +inconvenient; "I could not possibly wait! I am in a very great hurry." + +"Then, if you will allow me to write what she says? I promise," he +added, with another humorous twinkle in his eye, "to try and write my +very best." + +"Thank you, if it is not too much trouble," said Marian, rising, and +edging toward the door as if she had some hopes of getting off +unnoticed. It was confusing to have him follow her with an air of +expectation, she could not imagine of what, though she had a +consciousness, too, of having forgotten something, which made her +linger, trying to recollect it. He slowly turned the handle of the outer +door, and, opening it for her exit, seemed waiting for her to say +something--what, she racked her brains in vain to discover. He looked +amused again, and as if he would have spoken himself; but Marian, with a +sudden start, exclaimed, "Oh, dear, it rains!" She had not noticed how +dark the sky was growing, but to judge by the looks of the pavement, it +had been quietly showering for some time. + +"So it does!" said he. "That is a pity. I fear you are not very well +protected against it." + +"Oh, it doesn't matter!" cried Marian, recklessly; "it is only a step to +the horse-cars." + +"Enough for you to get very wet, I am afraid." + +"It isn't of the least consequence. I have nothing on that will +hurt--nothing at all!" + +Mr. Hayward looked admiringly and incredulously at the lilacs on her +bonnet. "I can hardly suppose your flowers are real ones, though +certainly they look very much like them; if they are not, I fear a +shower will scarcely prove of advantage to them. You must do me the +honour of letting me see you to the car." As he spoke he extracted from +the stand an enormous silk umbrella with a big handle, nearly as large +as Marian herself. + +"I could not think of it!" she cried, and hurried down the wet steps, +sweeping them with the dainty plaiting round the edge of her silvery +skirt. + +"Oh, but you must!" he went on in a tone of lazy good humour, yet as one +not accustomed to be refused. There was something paternal in his manner +gratifying to her, for as he could not be much over fifty, he must think +her much younger than she really was. + +"Don't hurry; there is a car every ten minutes, and a very good place to +wait in; there--take care of the wet box, please, with your dress, and +take my arm, if you don't mind." + +"Oh, no, thank you! Really, I am very well covered!" protested Marian, +squeezing herself and her gown into the smallest possible space. The big +umbrella was up before she knew it, and he was hobbling along the brick +path by her side, in an old pair of yellow leather slippers as ill +fitted to keep out the wet as her own shining little shoes. + +"I am very sorry you should have been caught in this way," he said +apologetically. + +"Don't mention it." + +"I hope you have not far to go." + +"Oh, no, indeed! That is--yes, rather far; but when I get into the car, +I am all right, because it meets--I mean, I can take a cab. It is very +easy to get about in town, you know." She turned while he opened the +gate, and caught sight of the front windows, thronged, like the gates of +Paradise Lost, with faces which might indeed have served as models for a +very realistic study, in modern style, of cherubim, being those of +healthy boys of all ages from twelve to twenty, each wearing a broad +grin of delight. + +"Confound 'em!" muttered her conductor in a low tone, but Marian caught +the words, and the accompanying grimace which he flung back over his +shoulder. Could his remarkable house be a boys' school? If so, he was +the very oddest teacher, and his discipline the most extraordinary, she +had ever heard of; it was too easy of egress, surely, to be a private +lunatic asylum, a thought which had already excited her fears. + +"Please lower your head a little, Miss--" he paused for the name, but +she did not fill up the gap; "the creepers hang so low here," and he +carefully held the umbrella so as best to protect her from the dripping +sprays. + +"How very pretty your garden is!" she said as he closed the gate. + +"It is a sad straggling place; we all run pretty wild here, I am +afraid." + +"But it is so picturesque!" + +"Picturesque it may be, and we get a good deal of fruit and vegetables +out of it; it isn't a show garden, but it is a comfort to have any +breathing-place in a city." + +"This seems a very pleasant neighbourhood." + +"Hum! well, yes; I think it pleasant enough. It is my old home; near the +water, too, and the boys like the boating. It's out of the way of +society, but then, we have no ladies to look after. It is easy enough, +you know, for men to come and go anyhow." + +"Coming and going anyhow" rang with a delicious thrill of freedom in +Marian's ears, and in the midst of her alarm at possible consequences +she revelled in her adventure, such a one as she had never had before, +and probably never should again; and there was the car tinkling on its +early way. Mr. Hayward signed to it to stop, and waded in his slippers +through the wet dust, for it could not be called mud yet, to hand her +deferentially in. + +"You are sure you can get along now?" he asked, as the car came to a +stop. + +"Oh, yes, indeed! Thank you so much; I am very sorry----" + +"No need of it, I assure you. I am sorry I cannot do more." He looked +at the big umbrella doubtfully, and so did she; but the idea of offering +it to her was too absurd, and they both laughed, which Marian feared was +improperly free and easy for her. Then, as she turned on the step to bow +her farewell, he added, "I beg your pardon; but you have forgotten to +leave me your address. I should be very glad to write in case +Catherine----" + +"Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street," stammered Marian, frightened +out of her little sense, and rattling off the first words that came into +her head, suggested in part by a baker's cart which passed at the +moment. She should never dare to give her real address! Anything better +than to have those dreadful boys know who she was! He looked puzzled, +then laughed; but it was of no use for him to say anything, for the car +had started, and swept her safely beyond his reach at once. She could +see him looking after it till it turned out of sight, and was thankful +he had not followed her, as he might perhaps have done if he had not had +on those old slippers. + +Marian did not go directly home, but stopped at Mrs. William Treadwell's +till the spring shower was over, that she might be able to tell her +family that she had been there, and thus avoid over-curious questioning +as to where she had been caught in it. She briefly informed them that +she could obtain no satisfactory account of Drusilla Elms--the people to +whom she referred seemed to have forgotten her--and wrote to the girl +that she had made other arrangements. She waited in fear for a few days, +lest something might happen to bring her little adventure to light; but +nothing did, and her fears subsided, with a few faint wishes as well. +What a pleasant world, she wistfully thought, was the world of men--a +world where conventionalities and duty calls gave way to a delicious, +free, Bohemian existence of boating and running about; where even +housekeeping was a thing lightly considered, and where dogs jumped on +sofas, and people threw their things around at pleasure--nay, even +smoked and swore, regardless of consequences temporal or eternal! + +About a fortnight after her wild escapade, the household of +Freeman-Robbins-Carter-Dale, to use the collective patronymic of the +female dynasty which reigned there, was agitated by the unusual +phenomenon of an evening visitor who called himself a man, though but in +his freshman year at Harvard University. It was the son of their +deceased cousin in New York, whose husband, though married again, +retained sufficient sense of kinship to insist that the boy should call +on his mother's relatives, which duty the unhappy youth had postponed +from week to week, and from month to month, until the awkwardness of +introducing himself was doubled. He had struggled through this ordeal, +and now sat, the centre of an admiring female circle who were trying to +hang upon his words. Winnie, whose presence might have given him some +support, had been sent to bed; but his sister was privileged to remain +up longer, and being a serious child, and wise beyond her years, she +fixed him with her solemn gaze, while one great-aunt remarked over and +over again on his resemblance to his grandfather, and the other as often +inquired who he was, though his name and pedigree were carefully +explained each time by the nurse. Mrs. Carter addressed him as "Freddy, +dear!" and Miss Caroline asked what he was studying at college, and his +cousin Isabel pressed sweet cake upon him. Only his cousin Marian sat +silent in the background. He thought her very pretty, and not at all +formidable, though so old--not that he had the least idea how old she +really was. + +"Did you bolt the front door, Marian, when you let Trippet out?" asked +her mother. Trippet was the family cat, who had shown symptoms of alarm +at the aspect of the unwonted guest. + +"I--I think so." + +"You had better go and look," said her sister. "It would be no joke if +Freddy's nice overcoat and hat were to be taken by a sneak-thief. They +are very troublesome just now in the suburbs," she continued; "but we +never leave anything of value in our front hall, and we always make it a +rule to bolt as well as lock the door as soon as it grows dusk. There is +no harm in taking every precaution." + +"Sneak-thieves and second-floor thieves have quite replaced the +old-fashioned midnight burglar," said Miss Caroline. + +"They are just as bad," said Mrs. Dale. + +"Women--ladies--are taking to it now," said Master Frederick. "I heard +the funniest story about one the other day." He paused, and grew red at +the drawing upon himself the fire of eight pairs of eyes, but plucked up +his courage and resumed the theme, not insensible to the possible +delight of terrifying those before whom he had quailed. "It was in Ned +Hayward's family, my classmate; he and his brother Bob--he's a +junior--live in South Boston with their uncle, Colonel Hayward--the +celebrated Colonel Hayward, you know, who was so distinguished in the +war, and--and everything; perhaps you know him?" + +"We have heard of him," said Mrs. Carter, graciously. + +"Well, I've been out there sometimes with him, and it's no end of +jolly--I mean, it is a pleasant place to visit in. The Colonel's an old +bachelor, and brings his nephews up, because, you know, their father's +dead." He stopped short again, overwhelmed with the sound of so long a +speech from himself. + +"But about the thief? Oh, do tell us," murmured the circle, +encouragingly. + +"Well," began Fred, seeing his retreat cut off, and gathering courage as +the idea struck him that the topic, if skilfully dwelt on, might last +out the call, "it happened this way. Bob was at home a few weeks ago to +spend Sunday, and took a lot of fellows--I mean a large party of his +classmates; and there were some boys there playing tennis with his +brothers--it was on a Saturday morning--and a woman came and asked for +the lady of the house; that's a common dodge of theirs, you know. Well, +of course, the Colonel went in to see her. The boys wanted to see the +fun, so they all took turns in looking through the keyhole; and Bob says +she was stunning--I mean very pretty--and looked like a lady, and +dressed up no end; but she seemed very confused and queer, and as if she +hardly knew what to say, and she pretended to have come to ask for the +character of a servant with the oddest name, I forget what; but most +likely she made it up, for none of them could remember it. Well, she +hung on ever so long, looking for a chance to hook something, I +suppose, and at last, just as she was going, it began to rain, and she +seemed to expect him to lend her an umbrella. But he wasn't as green as +all that comes to; he said he would see her to the car himself; so off +he walked with her as polite as you please. Bob says it's no end of fun +to see his uncle with a lady; he doesn't see much of them, and when he +does he treats 'em like princesses. He took her to the car, and put her +in, and just as it started he asked her address, and she told him--" +here an irrepressible fit of laughter interrupted his tale--"she told +him that it was Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street. Did you ever hear +such stuff? Of course there's no such person, for the Colonel wasted +lots of time taking particular pains to find out. Bob says they're all +sure she was a thief, except his uncle, who was awfully smashed on her +pretty face, and he sticks to it she was only a little out of her head. +They poke no end of fun at him about it, but it really was no joke for +him, for he walked with her down to the car in his old slippers in the +wet, and caught cold in the leg where he was wounded; he's always lame +in it, and when he takes cold it brings on his rheumatic gout. He was +laid up a fortnight; he's always so funny when he's got the gout; he +can't bear to have any of the boys come near him, and flings boots at +their heads when they do, for of course they have to wait on him some, +and he swears so. Bob says he's sorry for him, for of course it hurts, +but he can't help laughing at the queer things he says. He always swears +some when he's well, but when he's sick it fairly takes your head off." + +"Dear me! dear me!" said Mrs. Carter; "swearing is a sad habit. I hope, +Freddy, dear, that you will not catch it. Colonel Hayward is a very +distinguished officer, and they have to, I suppose, on the battle-field; +but there is no war now, and it is not at all necessary." + +"Oh, he won't let the boys do it! He swears at them like thunder if they +do, but they don't mind it. He's awfully good-natured, and lets them +rough him as much as they please, and they've done it no end about the +pretty little housebreaker. Bob has made a song about her to the tune of +_Little Annie Rooney_--that's the one his uncle most particularly hates. +Phil had a shy at her with his kodak, but what with the rain and the +leaves, you can't see much of her." + +"It is a pity," said Miss Caroline; "it might be shown to the police, +who could very likely identify her. I dare say she has been at Sherborne +Prison, and there we photograph them all. If it were not that Mary +Murray is in for a two years' sentence, I should say it answered very +well to her description." + +Some more desultory conversation went on, while the hands of the clock +ran rapidly on toward eleven. The youthful Minna silently stole away at +a sign from her mother, without drawing attention upon herself. Ten +o'clock was the latest hour at which these ladies were in the habit of +being up; but how hint to a guest that he was staying too long? They +guessed that it might not seem late to him, and feared that he was +acquiring bad habits in college. + +The poor fellow knew perfectly well that he was making an unconscionably +long call; but how break through the circle? And then he was remembering +with affright into how much slang he had lapsed in the course of his +tale, and was racking his brains for some particularly proper farewell +speech which should efface the recollection of it. Suddenly his eyes +were caught by Marian's face. Her look of abject misery he could +attribute only to her extreme fatigue, and he made a desperate rally: + +"I'm afraid, Miss Dale, I mean Mrs. Robbins, that I'm making a terribly +long call. I am very sorry." + +"Oh, not at all! Not at all! Pray do not hurry! You must come often; we +shall be delighted to see you." + +"It seems a very long way," murmured Freddy, conscious that he was +saying something rude, but unable to help himself; and he finally +succeeded in escaping, under a fire of the most pressing invitations to +"call again," for, as Mrs. Carter said, "we must show some hospitality +to poor Ellen's boy. Marian, you look tired. I hope you did not let him +see it. Do go to bed directly. I must confess I feel a little sleepy +myself." But the troubles which Marian bore with her to the small room +which she shared with her little niece were of a kind for which bed +brought no solace, and she lay awake till almost dawn, only thankful +that Minna slumbered undisturbed by her side. + +To Marian every private who had fought in the war was an angel, and +every officer an archangel _ex officio_. That she should have been the +cause of an attack of rheumatic gout to a wounded hero filled her with +remorse, especially as this particular hero was the most delightful man +she had ever met. She wept bitterly from a variety of emotions--pity, +and shame, too--for what must he think of her? That last misery, at any +rate, she could not and would not endure, and before breakfast she had +written the following letter: + + "BURROUGHS STREET, JAMAICA PLAIN. + + "DEAR COLONEL HAYWARD, + + "I was very, very sorry to hear that you had taken cold and + been ill in consequence of that unfortunate call of mine on + Saturday, three weeks ago. I really came on the errand I + said I did; but I don't wonder you thought otherwise, after + I had behaved so foolishly. I did not know who you were, nor + where I had been, and I gave the wrong name because I was + frightened. But I cannot let you think so poorly of me, or + believe I had the least intention of giving you so much pain + and trouble. I can remember the war" [this was a mortifying + confession for Marian to make, but she felt that the proper + atonement for her fault demanded an unsparing sacrifice of + her own feelings], "and I know how much gratitude I, and + every other woman in our country, owe to you. Begging your + pardon most sincerely, I am, + + "Yours very truly, + "MARIAN R. CARTER. + "_May 5th, 1885_." + +Marian found no time to copy this letter over again before she took it +with her on her morning round of errands, to slip into the first +post-box, and she would not keep it back for another mail, although she +feared by turns that it was improperly forward, and chillingly distant. +Posted it was, and she could not get it back. She did not know whether +she wanted him to answer it or not. It would be kind and civil in him to +do so, but she felt that she could hardly bear the curiosity of the +family, as his letter was passed from hand to hand before it was opened +to guess whom it could be from, or handed round again to be read. There +was no more privacy in the house than there was in an ant-hill. + +She had not long to speculate, for the very next afternoon, as the +family were all sitting in grandmamma's room downstairs, their common +rallying-ground, as it was the pleasantest one in the house, and the old +lady, who disliked being left alone, rarely went into the drawing-room +till evening, the parlour-maid brought in a card, which went the rounds +immediately: + + "MR. ROBERT HAYWARD, + "City Point, South Boston." + +"What can he want?" said Mrs. Dale. + +"Very likely to see me on business," said Aunt Caroline. + +"It must be Colonel Hayward," said Isabel, remembering Frederick's tale. + +"It was Miss Marian he wanted to see," said Katy. + +"How very strange!" said Miss Caroline. But Mrs. Carter, dimly +remembering Marian's South Boston errand, till now forgotten, and +bewildered with the endeavour to weave any coherent theory out of her +scattered recollections, was silent; and Marian glided speechless out of +the room, and up the back stairs to her own for one hasty peep at her +looking-glass, and then down the front stairs again. + +"Aunt Marian!" shouted Winnie from a front upper window, and she started +at his tone, grown loud and boyish in a moment; "the gentleman came on a +horse, and tied it to a post, and it is black, and it is stamping on the +sidewalk; just hear it!" But Marian, whose pet he was, passed him +without a word. + +She lingered so little that the Colonel had no more time to examine her +abode than she had had his, and here the subject was more complex. The +room was not very small, but it was very full, and everything in it, so +to speak, was smothered. The carpet was covered with large rugs, and +those again with small ones, and all the tables with covers, and those +with mats. Each window had four different sets of curtains, and every +sofa and chair was carefully dressed and draped. The very fireplace was +arrayed in brocaded skirts like a lady, precluding all possibility of +lighting a fire therein without causing a conflagration, and, indeed, +those carefully placed logs were daily dusted by the parlour-maid. Every +available inch of horizontal space was crowded with small objects, and +what could not be squeezed on that was hung on the walls. The use of +most of these was an enigma to the Colonel; he had an idea that they +might be designed for ornament, and some, as gift books and booklets +and Christmas cards, appealed to a literary taste; but he was a little +overwhelmed by them, especially as there were a number of little boxes +and bags and baskets about, trimmed and adorned in various fashions, +which might contain as many more. There were a great many really pretty +things there, if one could have taken them in; but they were utterly +swamped, owing to the fatal habit which prevailed in the family of all +giving each other presents on every Christmas and birthday. + +The Colonel felt terribly big and awkward among them. He sat down on a +little chair with gilded frame and embroidered back and seat. It cracked +beneath him, and he sprang hastily up and took another, from which he +could see out of a window, and into a trim little garden where plants +were bedded out in small beds neatly cut in shaved green turf. A few +flowers were allowed in the drawing-room, discreetly quarantined on a +china tray, though there were any number of empty vases, and from above +he could hear the cheerful warble of a distant canary-bird, which woke +no answering life in the stuffed corpses of his predecessors standing +about under glass shades. + +The room looked stuffy, but it was not; the air was very sweet and clean +and clear, and the Colonel felt uncomfortably that he was scenting it +with tobacco. There could be no dust beneath those rugs, no spot on the +glass behind those curtains. There was a feminine air of neatness, and +even of fussiness, that pleased him; everything was so carefully +preserved, so exquisitely cared for. It would be nice to have some one +to look after one's things like that; he knew that the rubbish at home +was always getting beyond him somehow. + +And now came blushing in his late visitor, even more daintily pretty +than he had thought her before. + +The Colonel made a long call, as all the family, anxious to see the +great man, dropped in one after the other; but the situation was not +unpleasing to him, and he even exerted himself to win their liking, +which was the easiest thing in the world. He told Mrs. Carter that he +had come on behalf of his quondam servant, Drusilla Elms, whose name, he +was sorry to say, his cook had forgotten; but now she remembered it, and +could give her the very highest character, and he should be sorry if +their carelessness had lost the poor girl so excellent a place. He +listened to the tale of the grandmother's rheumatism, and even made some +confidences in return about his own. He talked about the soldiers' +lending libraries with Aunt Caroline, and promised to write to a friend +of his in the regulars on the subject. In his imposing presence the +great-aunt sat silently attentive. He had met Isabel's late husband, and +he took much notice of her children. He said Winnie was a fine little +lad, but would be better for a frolic with other boys. Could he not come +over and spend a Saturday afternoon with them at South Boston, and his +boys would take him on the water? Oh, yes; they were very careful, and +quite at home in a boat. Yes, he would go with them himself, if Mrs. +Dale would prefer it; and then the invitation was given and accepted--no +unmeaning, general one, but a positive promise for Saturday next, and +the one after if it rained. Of course, he should be charmed to have some +of the ladies come, too. Miss Carter would, perhaps, for she knew the +way. He did not take leave till his horse, to Winnie's ecstatic delight, +had pawed a large hole in the ground; and a chorus of praise arose +behind him from every tongue but Marian's. + +Colonel Hayward said nothing about his visit at home; but as he stood +after returning from his long ride, for which the boys had observed that +he had equipped himself with much more than ordinary care, smoking a +meditative cigar before the crackling little fire which the afternoon +east wind of a Boston May rendered so comfortable, he was roused by his +nephew Bob's voice: + +"Really, Uncle Rob, our bachelor housekeeping is getting into a hopeless +muddle!" Then, as his uncle said nothing: "I am afraid--I am really +afraid that one of us will have to marry." + +"Marry yourself, then, you young scamp, and be hanged to you; you have +my full consent if you can find a girl who will be fool enough to take +you." + +"Of course, I could not expect _you_ to make the sacrifice; but though I +am willing--entirely for your sake, I assure you--I shall not render it +useless by asking some giddy and inexperienced girl. I shall seek some +mature female, able and willing to cope with them----" + +"Them?" + +"The spiders. I have long known that they spun webs of immense size in +and about our unfortunate dwelling; but I was not prepared to find that +they attached them to our very persons." As he spoke he drew into sight +a fabric hanging to the back of his uncle's coat. It was circular in +shape, about the size of a dinner-plate, white in colour, and +ingeniously woven out of thread in an open pattern with many +interstices, by one of which it had fastened itself to the button at the +back of the Colonel's coat as firmly as if it grew there. + +"What the ----!" I spare my readers the expletives which, with the +offending waif, the Colonel hurled at his nephew as the young man and +his brothers exploded in laughter. + + * * * * * + +"I never was so surprised!" cried Mrs. Treadwell. + +"I did not think anything in the matrimonial line could surprise you!" +cried her husband. + +"Not often; but Colonel Hayward and Marian Carter! I could hardly +believe it. Mrs. Carter herself seems perfectly amazed, though of course +she's delighted. I suppose she had given up all idea of Marian's +marrying." + +"She is a sweet little thing," said Mr. Treadwell; "I wonder she has not +been married long ago." + +"I thought he was a confirmed old bachelor," said the lady; "I wonder +where he met her! I wonder whatever made him think of her! I hope +they'll be happy, but I don't know. Marian is a good girl, but she has +so little sense!" + +"I should think any man ought to be happy with Miss Carter," said the +gentleman, warmly; "I only hope he'll make her happy. Hayward's a very +good fellow, but he'll frighten that little creature to death the first +time he swears at her." + +"Colonel Hayward is a _gentleman_, William; he would never swear before +a lady." + +"I wouldn't trust him--when she's his wife." + + * * * * * + +Nevertheless, Mrs. Robert Hayward has not yet been placed in danger of +such a catastrophe, not even when her husband has been laid up with +rheumatic gout. To be sure, her ministrations on those occasions were +more soothing than those of the boys. Perhaps she was even a little +disappointed in her craving for excitement, and her new household ran +almost too smoothly. The boys gave no trouble, though they were aghast +on first hearing that the Colonel really contemplated matrimony, and Bob +reproached himself in no measured terms for having drawn attention to +the "work of Arachne," and driven his uncle to rush madly upon fate. But +Marian made it her particular request that things should go on as +before, which pleased her bridegroom, though he had never dreamed of any +change; and when they came to know her, she pleased the boys as well. + +"It's easy enough to get on with Aunt Marian," Bob would say; "she's +such a dear little fool! She swallows everything men tell her, no matter +how outrageous, and thinks if we want the moon, we must have it. If +only Minna would turn out anything like her! But no; they are ruining +all the girls now with their colleges. I doubt if Aunt Marian isn't the +last of her day and generation." + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +WHY I MARRIED ELEANOR + + +It has often been remarked that if every man would truthfully tell how +he wooed and won his wife, the world would be the gainer by a number of +romances of real life which would put to shame the novelist's skill. +"How" is the word usually employed in such cases, and, indeed, properly +enough. There are a number of marriages where the reason is sufficiently +palpable, and where any stronger one fails there is the all-sufficing +one of propinquity. But none of these were allowed in the case of my +marriage with Eleanor. Why did I do it? was the absorbing nine days' +wonder; for, as was unanimously and justly observed, if it were a matter +of propinquity alone, why did I not marry----? But I anticipate. + +To begin at the beginning, then, and to tell my tale as truthfully as if +I were on oath; there was no reason why Eleanor, or any other girl, +should not have married me. I was by all odds the best match in New +England, being the only son and heir of Roger Greenway, third of the +name. Whether my father could ever have made a fortune any more than I +could is doubtful; but he inherited a considerable estate, so well +invested that it only needed letting alone to grow, and for this he had +the good sense. Large as it was when I came into it, it was more than +doubled by my prospective wealth on the other side, for my mother was +the oldest of the four daughters of old Jonathan Carver, the last of the +Massachusetts vikings whose names were words of power in the China seas. + +My father was an elderly man when he married, and my mother was no +longer young. She and her sisters were handsome, high-bred women, with +every accomplishment and virtue under the sun. They did not, to use the +vulgar phrase, marry off fast. Indeed, the phrase and the very idea +would have shocked them. They were beings of far too much importance to +be so lightly dealt with. When, only a few years before her father's +death, Louisa married Roger Greenway, it was allowed by their whole +world to be a most fitting thing; and when I appeared in due season, the +old gentleman was so delighted that he made a will directly, tying up +his whole estate as tightly as possible for future great-grandchildren. +Some years after his death, my Aunt Clara, the second daughter, married +a Unitarian clergyman of good family, weak lungs, æsthetic tastes, and +small property, who never preached. He lived long enough to catalogue +all our family pictures and bric-à-brac, and arrange the "Carver +Collection" for the Art Museum, and then died of consumption soon after +my own father, leaving no children. By the time these events had passed +with all due observances, Aunt Frances and Aunt Grace thought it was +hardly worth while to marry; there had been a sufficient number of +weddings in the family, and they were very comfortable together--and +then how could they ever want for an object, with that fine boy of dear +Louisa's to bring up? We all had separate households; but my aunts were +always at "Greenways," my place on the borders of Brookline and West +Roxbury, which my father had bought when young and spent the greater +part of his life in bringing to a state of perfection; and my mother and +I were apt to pass the hottest summer months at Manchester-by-the-Sea, +where Aunt Clara, during her married life, had reared a little fairy +palace of her own; and to spend much of the winter at the great old +Carver house on Mount Vernon Street, which Jonathan Carver had left to +his unmarried daughters for life. + +I was the first object of four devoted and conscientious women. The +results were different from what might have been expected. The world +said I would be spoiled, and then marvelled that I was not; but my +mother's and aunts' conscientiousness outran their devotion, and they +all felt, though they would not acknowledge it to each other, that I had +rather disappointed them. I grew up a big, handsome young fellow enough, +very young-looking for my age, with a trick of blushing like a girl at +anything or nothing, which gave me much pain, though it won upon all the +old ladies, who said it showed the purity of my mind and the goodness of +my heart. + +By the way in which my moral qualities were always selected for praise, +it will be divined that but little could be said for my intellectual. +Had I been a few steps lower on the social ladder, something might have +been said against them. It was only by infinite pains on my own part and +that of the highly salaried tutor who coached me, that I was ever +squeezed through Harvard University. I did squeeze through, and with an +unblemished moral record; my Aunt Clara, the pious one of the family, +said it might have been worse, and my mother, to whom my commencement +day was a blessed release from four years of perpetual worry, said she +was highly gratified at the way in which dear Roger had withstood the +temptations of college life. For this I deserved no credit. The +temptations of which she thought were none to me. Where would have been +the excitement of gambling, when I had nothing to lose? and one brought +up from infancy in an atmosphere of fastidious refinement the baser +female attractions repelled at once, before they had the chance of +charming. I hated tobacco, and liquor of all kinds made me deadly sick. +A more subtle snare was set for me. + +Time slipped away for the first few years after I left college. We all +went to Europe and returned. I pottered a little about my place, and +discharged social duties, and such few local political ones as a +position like mine entails even in America. I did not know why I did not +do more, or what more to do. I did not think I was stupid exactly; it +seemed to me that I could do something, if I only knew what. Perhaps I +was slow--I certainly was in thought; but sometimes I startled myself by +hasty action before I thought at all, which gave me a dim consciousness +of the presence of my "genius." My mother's expectations had just begun +to take an apologetic turn, when my Aunt Frances, the clever one of the +family, put forward a bright idea. She said that it was all very well +for a young man who had his own way to make in the world to wait awhile; +a man with my opportunities could never be in a satisfactory position to +employ them until he was married. While I remained single there must +always be speculations, expectations, and reports. Once let me be +married, and all these worries, troublesome and distracting at present, +would receive their proper quietus. The sisters all applauded her +penetration, and all said with one voice that if Roger were to marry, he +could not do better than--but I anticipate again. + +Greenways and the neighbouring estates were large, and the only very +near neighbours we had were the Days and the Beechers; in fact, they +were both my tenants. When my father bought the place there was an old +farm-house on it, which, though it stood rather near the spot where he +wished to build, was too well built and too picturesque to pull down. +Old Sanderson, our head gardener for many a year, lived there with his +wife, and their house, with its own pretty garden and little greenhouse, +was one of my favourite haunts when a child. When the old couple died, +nearly at the same time, Sanderson had long left off active work, and +his deputy and successor, Macfarlane, lived in another house some +distance off. My mother said of course she could never put him into the +Garden House with all those children; she could never put another +servant there at all; she hated to pull it down; she did not know what +to do with it. My Aunt Grace, the impulsive one of the family, broke in, +and all the others followed suit with, "Why would it not be just the +thing for Katharine Day?" + +Katharine Day had been Katharine Latham, an old school friend of my Aunt +Grace. She was the daughter of a country clergyman, a pretty woman of +fascinating manners, and her relations were very well bred, though poor. +The friendship was an excellent thing for her; I don't mean to say that +it was not so for my aunt also, for I never knew a woman who could pay +back a social debt to a superior more gracefully than Mrs. Day. She was +always a little pitied as not having met with her deserts in marriage, +though Mr. Day was a handsome man, with good connections and a fine +tenor voice. He had some kind of an office with a very fair salary, but +his wife said, and it was a thing generally understood, that they were +very poor. They felt no shame, rather a sort of pride, in getting along +so well in spite of it. They went everywhere, and all her richer friends +admired Mrs. Day for being such a good manager, and dressing and +entertaining so beautifully on positively nothing, and showed their +admiration by deeds as well as words. One paid Phil's college expenses, +another took Katie abroad, and they were always having all kinds of +presents. They were invited everywhere in the height of the season, and +always had tickets for the most reserved of reserved seats. My mother, +or my guardian, for her, let them have the Garden House at a mere +nothing of a rent, but we said that it was really a gain for us, they +would take such beautiful care of it. + +Phil Day, though he was some years younger than I, was my classmate in +college, and graduated far ahead of me. My mother was consoled for his +superiority by thinking what a nice intimate friend he was for me. That +he was my intimate friend was settled for me by the universal verdict. +In reality I did not like him at all, but it would have been unkind to +be as offish as I must have been to keep him from being always at my +house, sailing my boats, riding my horses, playing at my billiard-table, +smoking my cigars, and drinking my wines, as naturally as if he had been +my brother, albeit I had a suspicion that these luxuries were not as +harmless to Phil as they were to me. He was a clever, handsome fellow, +and very popular. What I really disliked in him was his being such a +terrible snob, but this was an accusation that it seemed particularly +mean for me to make against him, even to my own mind. + +Phil's sister Katie was worth a dozen of him. She was a beautiful +creature, tall and lithe, with a rich colour coming and going under a +clear olive skin, and starry dark eyes that seemed to shoot out rays of +light for the whole length of her long lashes. She was highly +accomplished, and always exquisitely dressed. Mrs. Day said it did not +cost much, for dear Katie was so clever at making her own clothes. To be +sure, she could not make her boots and gloves, her fans and furs, and +these were of the choicest. Their price would have made a large hole in +her father's salary, but probably he was never called upon to pay +it--for I know my Aunt Grace, for one, thought nothing of giving her a +whole box of gloves at a time. Katie inherited all her mother's +fascination of manner and practical talent, and, like her, well knew how +to pay her way. She was a great pet of my mother and aunts. She poured +out tea, and sang after dinner, helped in their charity work, and chose +their presents. They had an idea that I could marry whom I pleased, but +I knew they felt I could not do better than marry Katie. It was their +opinion, and that of every one else, that she deserved a prize in the +matrimonial line. Providence evidently designed that she should get one, +for, as all her friends remarked, "If Katie Day could do so beautifully +with so little, what could she not do if she were rich?" Providence as +evidently had destined me for the lucky man, and even the other young +men bowed to manifest destiny in the united claims of property and +propinquity. + +The Beechers lived a little farther off the other way. About them and +their dwelling there was no glamour of boyish memories. The bit of land +on which it stood had always cut awkwardly into ours, and my father had +longed to buy it; but it had some defect in the title which could not be +set right until the death of some old lady in the country. She died at +last just about the time that he did, and in the confusion caused by his +sudden death the land was snapped up by O'Neil, an Irishman, who turned +a penny when he could get a chance by levying blackmail upon a +neighbourhood--buying up bits of land, building tenement houses on them, +and crowding them with the poorest class of his country people, on the +chance of being bought off at last at an exorbitant rate by the +neighbouring proprietors. + +In this present case O'Neil had mistaken his man. My guardian and first +cousin once removed, John Greenway, was the last person alive to screw a +penny out of. He would have borne any such infliction himself with +Spartan firmness; judge with what calmness he endured it for a ward. He +built a high wall on O'Neil's boundary, planted trees thickly around +that, and then proceeded to harass the unhappy tenants by every means +within his power and the letter of the law, so that they ran away in +hordes without waiting for quarter-day. O'Neil failed at last, and my +guardian bought in the concern for a song. Before this, however, O'Neil, +in desperate straits, had made a few cheap alterations in the house, +advertised it as a "gentleman's residence," and let it to the Beechers, +who were only too glad to get so well-situated a house so low. + +Mr. Beecher was well educated and of a good family, though he had no +near relations who could do anything for him. He had married early a +young lady much in the same condition, and had done but poorly in life, +hampered in all his efforts by a delicate wife and a large family. When +we bought the place I had not attained my legal majority; but I was old +enough to have my wishes respected, and I said positively that I would +not have him turned out. As I used to meet the poor old fellow--not that +he was really old, though he looked to me a perfect Methuselah--with his +grey head and shining, well-brushed coat, trotting to the station, a +good mile and a half off, at seven in the morning, through winter's cold +and summer's heat; and back again after dark, for nine months in the +year, my heart used to ache for him. But I could not tell him so, and of +course there was precious little I could do for him. My mother and aunts +were eminently charitable, but what could they do for Mrs. Beecher? Her +hours and ways and thoughts were not as theirs. She did not come very +often when they invited her, nor seem to enjoy herself very much when +she did. There was but little use in taking her rare flowers and +hothouse grapes, and they could not send her food and clothes as if she +were a poor person. The Beecher house had a garden of its own, out of +which Mr. Beecher, with a little help from his boys, contrived to get +their fruit and vegetables, though it always looked in very poor order. +We were thankful that it was so well shut out from our view, and poor +Mrs. Beecher was equally thankful that her boisterous boys and crying +babies were so well shut in. My mother did not approve of her much, and +said she must lack method not to get on better. Jonathan Carver's +daughters had been so trained by their father that any one of them could +have stepped into his counting-house and balanced his books at a +minute's warning. They kept their own accounts, down to the last mill, +by double entry, and were fond of saying that if you only did this you +would always be able to manage well. They were most kind-hearted, when +they saw their way how to be, but they had been so harassed from +childhood up by begging letter-writers and agents for societies that +they had a horror of leading people to expect anything from them; and +as the Beechers evidently expected nothing, it was best that they +should be left in that blissful condition. They were indeed painfully +overwhelmed by their obligations in the matter of the house. I made the +rent as low as I decently could, and put in improvements whenever I had +the chance. I used to rack my brains to think what more I could do for +them; but in all my wildest dreams it never occurred to me that I might +give them a lift by marrying Eleanor. + +Eleanor was their oldest child, and a year or two younger than Katie +Day. She was really as plain as a girl has any right to be. She had the +light eyelashes and freckles which often mar the effect of the prettiest +red hair, and hers was not a pretty shade, but very common carrots. Her +features and her figure were not bad exactly, and her motions had +nothing awkward--one would never have noticed them in any way. It might +have been better for her had she been strikingly ugly. Anything striking +is enough for some clever girls to build upon; but whether Eleanor were +clever or stupid, no one knew or cared to know. She was a good girl, and +helped her mother, and looked after the younger children;--but then, she +had to. Her very goodness was a mere matter of course, and had nothing +for the imagination to dwell upon. She was not a bit more helpful to +her mother than Katie Day was to hers; and if Katie's path of duty led +to trimming hats and writing notes, and Eleanor's to darning the +children's stockings and washing their faces, why, that was no fault in +the one nor merit in the other. + +I felt very sorry for Eleanor, when I thought of her at all, which was +not often, but I could do even less for her than for her father. We used +to invite them when we gave anything general, but they did not always +come, and when we sent them tickets they often could not use them. They +had not many other invitations, and could seldom accept any, on account +of the cost of clothes and carriage hire. My mother, of course, could +not take them about much, for there were our own family and the Days, +whom she took everywhere, and who enjoyed going so much. I always asked +Eleanor to dance, but as she was dreadfully afraid of me, I fear it gave +her more pain than pleasure. She did not dance well, and I could not +expect my friends to follow my example. Phil Day, indeed, once declared +that he "drew the line at Eleanor Beecher." I remember longing to kick +him for the speech, and that was the liveliest emotion I ever felt in +connection with her. + +Why I did not marry Katie is plainer--to myself at least. I came very +near it, not once alone, but many times. I do not think that there was +any man who could have seen her day after day, as I did, and not have +fallen in love with her, unless there were some barrier in the way. Mine +was fragile as a reed, but it proved in the end to be strong enough. It +arose in the days when I was a green young hobble-de-hoy of nineteen, +dragging along in my freshman year, and she was a bright little gipsy +four years younger. At a juvenile tea-party at the Days' we were playing +games, and one--I don't know what it was, except that it demanded some +familiarity with historical characters and readiness in using one's +knowledge. The little wit I had was soon hopelessly knocked out of me, +while Katie, quick and alert, was equally ready at showing all she knew, +and shielded herself by repartee when she knew nothing. I made some +absurd blunder, perhaps more in my awkward way of putting things than in +what I really meant, between the two celebrated Cromwells, giving the +impression that I thought the great Oliver a Catholic. I might have made +some confused explanation, but was silenced by Katie's ringing laugh, a +peal of irresistible girlish gayety, such as worldly prudence is rarely +strong enough to check at fifteen. Perhaps she was excited and could not +help it, but I thought she laughed more than she need, and there was +something scornful in the tone that jarred on me painfully. I could not +be so foolish as to resent it, but I could not forget it, and often when +she has looked most lovely, and the star of love has shone most +propitious, some sharper cadence than usual in her voice, or a hint at +harder lines under the soft curves of her face, or a contemptuous ring +in her musical laugh, has withered the words on my lips, and the hour +has passed with them unspoken. It was, I dimly felt, only a question of +time; the flood must some day rise high enough to sweep the frail +barrier away. + +Katie and Eleanor had but little in common on the surface, nor were +there ever any deeper sympathies of thought and feeling between them. +Still, they were girls, living near together, and with all the others +much farther off. It was impossible that there should not be some +intercourse of business or pleasure, though never intimate and always +irregular; and one pleasant September it came about that we spent a good +many hours together, playing lawn tennis on my court. There was another +young man hanging about; an admirer of Katie's, he might be called, +though he was not very forward to try his chances, thinking, as I +plainly saw, that they were not worth much. Herbert Riddell was not much +cleverer than I was, and, though not poor, had no wealth to give him +importance. He was a thoroughly good fellow, and felt no jealousy of me, +and it was pleasant for him to loiter away the golden autumn days with +beauty on the tennis court, even if both were another's property. We +were well enough matched, for, though Herbert and Katie were very fair +players, while Eleanor was a perfect stick, yet I played so much better +than the others that I generally pulled her through. She really tried +her best, but somehow the more she tried the more blunders she made, +perhaps from nervousness, and one afternoon they were especially +remarkable. We were hurrying to finish our match, as it was getting late +and nearly time for "high tea" at the Days', to which we were all asked, +though Eleanor, as usual, had declined, and Katie, as usual, had not +pressed her. It was nothing to either Herbert or me, for we both found +Mrs. Day a much more lively _pis aller_ in conversation than Eleanor. +Katie was serving, and sent one of her finest, swiftest balls at +Eleanor, who struck at it with all her force, and did really hit it, but +unfortunately and mysteriously sent it straight up into the air. We all +watched it breathlessly, as it came down--down--and fell on our side of +the net. Katie, warm and excited, laughed loud and long. I thought that +there was a little affection of superiority in her mirth, just like +there was in the high, clear, scornful music that woke the echoes of +long ago, and I in turn lost my self-possession, and returned my next +ball with such nervous strength that it flew far beyond the lawn and +over the clumps of laurels into the wood beyond. We had lost the set. + +"Really, Mr. Greenway," cried Katie, "you must have tried to do that; or +have you been taking private lessons of Eleanor?" She stopped, her fine +ear perhaps detecting something strained and hard in her own voice. I +see her still as she looked then, poised like Mercury on one slender +foot, one arm thrown back and holding her racket behind her head, +framing it in, the little dimples quivering round her mouth, ready to +melt into smiles at a word, while from under her dark eyelashes she shot +out a long, bright look, half saucy defiance, half pleading for pardon. +It was enough to madden any man who saw her, and it struck home to +Riddell. Poor fellow! it was never aimed at him, and it fell short of +its mark: + + "My heart's cold ashes vainly would she stir, + The light was quenched she looked so lovely in." + +Eleanor, meanwhile, was bidding her usual good-by, nothing in her manner +showing that she was at all offended. She need not be, for of course +Katie could not seriously intend any slight to her, any more than to a +stray tennis ball to which she might give a random hit. But I could not +let a lady go home alone from my own ground in just this way, and I had +a sort of fellow-feeling with her, which I wanted to show. + +"I will see Miss Beecher home, and then come back," I said, and hastened +after her, although I had seen, by the prompt manner in which she had +walked off, that she did not intend, and very likely did not wish, I +should. I was glad to leave the ground and get away from them. I kept +saying to myself that after all Katie was not much to blame; girls would +be thoughtless, and Katie was so pretty and so petted that she might +well be a little spoiled; and then I asked myself what right I had to +set myself up as a judge of her conduct? None at all; only I wished that +women, who can so easily and lightly touch on the raw places of others, +would use their power to heal and not to wound. I could picture to +myself some girl with an eagerness to share the overflowing gifts of +fortune with others, a respectful tenderness for those who had but +little, a yearning sweetness of sympathy that should disarm even envy, +and give the very inequalities of life their fitness and significance. +We men have rougher ways to hurt or heal; and though I tried +desperately hard, I could not hit on anything pleasant or consolatory to +say to Eleanor. + +She had got pretty well ahead of me, and was out of sight already. Her +way home was by a long roundabout walk through our place, and then by a +short one along the public road. When I turned into the winding, shady +path which led through the thick barrier of trees hiding the Beecher +wall, she was loitering slowly along before me; and though she quickened +her pace when she heard me behind her, as a hint that I need not follow, +I soon caught up with her, and then I was sorry I had tried to, for I +saw that she was crying most undisguisedly and unbecomingly. + +"Miss Beecher--Eleanor," I stammered out, "you mustn't mind it--she +didn't mean it--it was too bad--I was a little provoked myself--but +don't feel so about it." + +"Oh, it's not that," said Eleanor, stopping short, and steadying her +trembling voice, so that it seemed as if she were practised in stifling +her emotions. The very tears stopped rolling down her cheeks. +"It's--it's everything. You don't know what it is," she went on more +rapidly; "you never can know--how should you--but if you were I, to see +another girl ahead of you in everything--to have nothing, not one single +thing, that you could feel any satisfaction in--and no matter how hard +you tried, to have her do everything better without taking any trouble, +and to know that if you worked night and day for people, you could not +please them as well as she can without a moment's care or thought, just +by being what she is--you would not like it. And the worst of it all is +that I know I am mean and selfish and hateful to feel so about it, for +it's not one bit Katie's fault." + +"Oh, come!" I said; "don't look at it so seriously. You exaggerate +matters." + +"I should not mind it," said Eleanor, gravely, "if I did not feel so +badly about it. Now, I know that's nonsense. I mean that if I could only +keep from having wrong feelings about it myself, it would not matter +much if she were ever so superior in every way." + +"Are you not a little bit morbid? If you were really as selfish as you +think, you would not be so much concerned about it. It seems to me that +we all have our own peculiar place in this world, and that if we fill it +properly, we must have our own peculiar advantages; no one else can do +just what we can, any more than we could do what they could; we must +just try to do well what we have to do." + +"It is very well for you to talk in that way," said Eleanor, simply. + +"I?"--a little bitterly. "I am a very idle fellow, who has made but +little effort to better himself or others. But we won't talk of efforts, +for I am sure your conscience must acquit you there. I suppose you were +thinking more of natural gifts--of pleasing, which is after all only +another way of helping. One pleases one, and one another, and it is as +well, perhaps, to be loved by a few as liked by a great many. Don't +doubt, my dear Miss Beecher, that any man who truly loves you will find +you more charming even than Katie Day." + +What there was in this harmless and well-meant speech to excite +Eleanor's anger I could not imagine; but girls are queer creatures. She +grew, if possible, redder than before, and her eyes fairly flashed. "No +one--" she began, and stopped, unable to speak a word. I went on, as +much for a sort of curious satisfaction I had in hearing my own words, +as for any consolation they might be to her. "Beautiful as she is, she +only pleases my eye; she does not touch my heart. I am not one particle +in love with her, and sometimes I scarcely even like her." + +"Stop!" cried Eleanor; "you must not say such things--I did very wrong +to speak to you as I did. You mean to be kind, but you don't know how +every word you say humiliates me. Surely, you can't think me so mean as +to let it please me, and yet, perhaps, you know me better than I do +myself. There is a wretched little bit of a feeling that I would not own +if I could help it, that--that--" She was trembling like a leaf now, and +so pale that I thought she was going to faint away. I did not know +whether to feel more sorry for her or angry with myself for having made +things worse instead of better by my awkwardness. There was only one way +to get out of the scrape. I threw my arm around her shaking form, took +her cold hand in mine, and said with what was genuine feeling at the +time, "Dearest Eleanor!" Of course there was no going back after that. + +Eleanor, equally of course, made her escape at once from my arm, but I +still held her hand as I went on. "Do--do believe me. I love you and no +one else." She seemed too much astonished to say anything. "Could you +not love me a little?" + +She looked at me still surprised and incredulous. "You can't mean +it--you don't know what you are saying." + +I remember feeling well satisfied with myself, for doing the thing so +exactly according to the models in all dramas of polite society; but +Eleanor, it must be owned, was terribly astray in her part. I went on +with increasing energy. "Plainly, Eleanor, will you be my wife? Will +you let me show what it is to be loved?" + +Poor Eleanor twisted her damp little handkerchief round and round in her +restless fingers without speaking for a moment, and then said in a +frightened whisper, "I--I don't know." + +I tried to take her hand again, but she drew it away, and said shyly, +"Indeed I don't know. I never dreamed of any one's loving me, much less +you. I don't know how I ought to feel." + +"Have you never thought how you would feel if you loved anyone?" I +asked, her childish simplicity making me smile, and I felt as if I were +talking to a little girl; but, to my surprise, she blushed deeply, and +then answered firmly, as if bound to be truthful, "Yes! I have felt--all +girls have their dreams"; here a something in her tone made her seem to +have grown a woman in a moment; "I thought I should never find any real +person to make my romance about, and so for a long time I have loved Sir +Philip Sidney." + +"What?" + +"Because he would have been too much of a gentleman to mind how plain +and insignificant I was; it isn't likely he would have loved me--but I +should not have minded his knowing that I loved him." + +"And do you think that there are no gentlemen now?" + +As I looked at her, the surprise and interest roused by her words making +me forget for a moment the position in which we stood, I saw a sudden +eager look rise in her eyes, then fade away as quickly as it came; but +it showed that if no one could call Eleanor beautiful, it might be +possible to forget that she was plain. She walked along slowly under the +broad fir boughs, and I by her side, both silent. She was frightened at +having said so much. But as we drew near the gate which opened to the +public road, I said, "Will you not give me my answer, Eleanor?" + +"I cannot," she murmured, "it is so sudden. Can you not give me a little +time to think about it?" + +"Till this evening?" + +"No--no. I have no time before then. Come to-morrow morning--after +church begins, and I will be at home--that is," she added +apologetically, "if it is just as convenient to you." + +Poor child! she did not know what it was to use her power, in caprice or +earnest, over a lover. Every word she said was like a fresh appeal to +me. I told her it should be as she wished, and but little else passed +till we reached her father's door, which closed between us, to our +common relief. + +Instead of appearing at the Days' tea-table, which indeed I forgot, I +walked straight to the darkest and remotest nook in the fir-wood, flung +myself flat on the ground, and tried to face my utterly amazing +position, and to realise what I had been about. It was evident that I +had irrevocably pledged myself to marry Eleanor Beecher, but still I +could hardly believe it. It seemed too absurd that I, who had been proof +against the direct attacks of so many pretty girls, and the more +delicate allurements of the prettiest one I knew, should have been such +a fool as to blurt out a proposal because a plain one had shed a few +tears, which, to do her justice, were shed utterly without the design of +producing any effect on me. + +In this there lay a ray of hope. Eleanor, I had fully recognised, was +transparently sincere; if she did not love me, I was sure she would tell +me so frankly; and, after all, should I not be a conceited fool to think +that every girl I saw must fall in love with me? If she refused me, as +she very likely would, I should be very glad to have given her the +chance; it would give her a little self-esteem, of which she seemed more +destitute than a girl ought to be, and it would not diminish mine. I +felt more interest in her than I could have thought possible two hours +ago, but I did not love her, and did not want to marry her. I did not +feel that we were at all suited to each other, and I hoped that she +would have the good sense to see it too; and yet, would she--would she? + +Next day at a quarter past eleven I ascended the Beecher doorsteps in +all the elegance of array that befitted the occasion, and, I hope, no +unbecoming bearing. I had had a sleepless night of it, but had reasoned +the matter out with myself, and decided that if I had done a foolish +thing, I must take the consequences like a man, and see that they ended +with me. Eleanor herself opened the door and showed me into the stiff +little drawing-room, which had to be stiff or it would have been +hopelessly shabby at once. The family were at church, and it was the +only time in the week that she could have had any chance to see me +alone. She had made, it was plain, a great effort to look well, and was +looking very well for her. She had put on a fresh, though old, white +frock, had stuck a white rose in her belt, and done up her hair in a way +I had never seen it in before. She looked very nervous and frightened, +but not unbecomingly so, I allowed, though with rather a sinking of the +heart at the way these straws drifted. We got through the few polite +nothings that people exchange on all occasions, from christenings to +funerals, and then I said: + +"Dear Eleanor, I hope you have thought over what I said to you +yesterday, and that you know how you really feel, and can--that you can +love me enough to let you make me--to let me try to make you--I mean--" +I was blundering terribly now, and getting very red. Yesterday's fluency +had quite deserted me. But Eleanor was thinking too much of what she had +to say herself to heed it. + +"Oh!" she began, "I am afraid--I know I am not worthy of you. It was all +so sudden and so unexpected yesterday. But I know now that I do not love +you as much as I ought--as you deserve to be loved by the woman you +love. I ought to say that I will not marry you--but--" she looked up +beseechingly--"I can't--I can't." + +She paused, then went on in a trembling voice, "You don't know how hard +a time my father and mother have had. There has hardly a single pleasant +thing ever happened to them. Ever since I was a little girl I have +longed and longed to do something for them--something that would really +make them happy--and I never could. I never dreamed I should have such a +chance as this! and then all the others! I have thought so what I should +like to give them, and I never had the smallest thing; and then +myself--I don't want to make myself out more unselfish than I am--but +you don't know how little pleasure I have had in my life. I never +thought of such a chance as this--all the good things in life offered +me at once--and I cannot--cannot let them go by." + +She stopped, breathless, only for a moment, but it was a bitter one for +me. I had one of those agonising sudden glimpses such as come but +seldom, of the irony of fate, when the whole tragedy of our lives lies +bare and exposed before us in all its ugliness. So then even she, for +whom I was giving up so much, could not love me, and I was going to be +married for my money after all! Then with another electric shock of +instant quick perception, it came across me that I was getting perhaps a +better, certainly a rarer, thing than love. Many women had flattered my +vanity with hints of that; but here was the only one I had ever met whom +I was sure was telling me the absolute, unflattering truth. The sting of +wounded pride grew milder as Eleanor, unconsciously swaying toward me in +her earnestness, went on: + +"Will you--can you love me, and take my friendship, my gratitude and +admiration--more than I can tell you--and wait for me to love you as +well as you ought to be loved? I know I shall--how can I help it?" + + * * * * * + +As things in our family were always done with the strictest attention to +etiquette, I informed my mother, as was due to her, during our usual +stroll on the terrace, after our early Sunday dinner, that I was paying +my addresses to Eleanor Beecher, and intended to apply for her father's +consent that afternoon. It was a great and not a pleasant surprise for +her. My mother was celebrated for never saying anything she would be +sorry for afterwards--an admirable trait, but one which frequently +interfered with her conversational powers; and unfortunately, on this +occasion, to say nothing was almost as bad as anything she could have +said. It was rather hard for both of us, but after it was over, she +could go to her room and have a good cry by herself, while I was obliged +to set off for an interview with my intended father-in-law, whom I found +in his little garden, in shirt-sleeves and old slippers, cutting the +ripest bunches from his grape-vines. It was the blessed hour sacred to +dawdle--the only one the poor old fellow had from one week's end to the +other. He was evidently not accustomed to have it broken in upon by +young men visitors in faultless calling trim, and starting, dropped his +shears, which I picked up and handed to him; dropped them again, +shuffled about in his old slippers, and muttered something of an +apology. Evidently I must plunge at once into the subject, but I was +getting practised in this, and began boldly: "Mr. Beecher, may I have +your consent to pay my addresses to your daughter Eleanor?" + +"Eleanor at home? Oh, yes, she's in. Perhaps you'll kindly excuse me?" +and he looked helplessly toward the house door. + +"I don't think you quite understand me. I spoke to Eleanor last night +about my wishes--hopes--my love for her, and she promised to give me an +answer this morning. She has consented to become my wife--of course, +with your approval." + +"Lord bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Beecher, throwing back his head, and +looking full at me over the top of his spectacles; "who would ever have +thought it? I mean--you seem so young, such a boy." + +"I am twenty-six, and Eleanor, I believe, is twenty." + +"True, true; yes, she was twenty last June--but--but--why, of course, +she must decide for herself--that is, if you are sure you love her." + +I felt myself growing red; but Mr. Beecher seemed to interpret this as a +sign of my ardent devotion, and anger at its being doubted, for he went +on: "Yes, yes! I beg your pardon. I never heard anything about you but +in your favour. Of course, I have nothing to say but that I am very +happy. Of course," more quickly, "it's a great honour; that is, of +course you know my daughter has no fortune to match with yours." + +"I am perfectly indifferent to that." + +"Of course--of course--well, it must rest with Eleanor. She is a good +girl, and I can trust her choice. Will you not go in and see my--Mrs. +Beecher?" he added with relief, as if struck with a bright idea; and I +left him slashing off green bunches and doing awful havoc among his +grape-vines. He did not appear so overwhelmed with delight at the +prospect of an alliance with me as Eleanor had seemed to expect. Mrs. +Beecher, on her part, took the tidings in rather a melancholy way; she +wept, and said Eleanor was a dear good child, and she hoped we would +make each other happy, but there was more despondency than joy in her +manner; either she was accustomed to look at every new event in that +light, or, as I suspected, this piece of good fortune was rather too +overwhelming. I thought many times in the next two months of the man who +received the gift of an elephant. I played the part of elephant in the +Beecher _ménage_, and was sometimes terribly oppressed by my own +magnificence. Perhaps an engagement may be a pleasant period of one's +life under some circumstances; decidedly mine was not. I insisted on its +being as short as possible, thinking that the sooner it was over the +better for all parties. Mr. and Mrs. Beecher might have had some comfort +in getting Eleanor ready to be married to some nice young man with a +rising salary and a cottage at Roxbury; but to get her ready to be +married to me was a task which I was afraid would be the death of both +of them. Poor Eleanor herself was worn to a shadow with it all, and I +remember looking forward with some satisfaction to bringing her up again +after we were married. + +My mother, of course, could not interfere with their arrangements, even +to offer help. She asked no questions, found no fault, but was +throughout unapproachably courteous and overpoweringly civil. Once, and +once only, did she speak out her mind to me. The evening after the +wedding-day was fixed, she tapped late at my door, and when I opened it, +she walked in in her white wrapper, candlestick in hand--for the whole +house was long darkened--her long, thick, still bright brown locks +hanging below her waist, and a look of determination on her +features--looking like a Lady Macbeth, who had had the advantages of a +good early education. + +"Roger!" she began, and paused. + +"Well." + +"Roger," as I placed a chair for her, and she sat down as if she were at +the dentist's, "there is one thing I must say to you. I hope you will +not mind. I must be satisfied on one point, and then I will never +trouble you again about it." + +"Anything, dearest, that I can please you in." + +"Roger, did you ever--did you never care for Katie Day?" + +"I always liked her." + +"I mean, Roger, did you ever want to marry her? And, oh, Roger! I hope, +I do hope that if you did not, you have never let her have any reason to +think you did." + +"Never! I have never given her any reason to think I cared for her more +than as a very good friend." + +"I felt sure you would never wilfully deceive any girl," said my mother, +with a sigh of relief; "but I am anxious about you yourself. Did you and +Katie ever have any quarrel--any misunderstanding? I have heard of +people marrying some one else from pique after such things. Do forgive +me, Roger, dear; but I should be so glad to know." My poor mother +paused, more disconcerted than she usually allowed herself to be, and +her beautiful eyes brimming over with tears. + +"Don't worry about me, dearest mother," I said, kissing her tenderly; +for my heart was touched by her anxiety. "I can tell you truly that I +have never really wanted to marry Katie, though once or twice I have +thought of it. I have always admired her, as every one must. She is a +lovely girl; and seeing so much of her as I have, it might have come to +something in time, if it had not been for Eleanor." + +"If it had not been for Eleanor!" My mother was too well-bred to repeat +my words, but I saw them run through her mind like a lightning flash. +She looked for a moment as if she thought I was mad, then in another +moment she remembered that she had heard love to be not only mad but +blind. Her own Cupid had been a particularly wide-awake deity, with all +his wits about him; but she bowed to the experience of mankind. From +that hour to this she has never breathed a word which could convey any +idea that Eleanor was anything but her own choice and pride as a +daughter-in-law. + +The Beechers got up a very properly commonplace wedding, after all, +though nothing to what my wedding ought to have been. Eleanor herself, +like many prettier brides, was little but a peg to hang a wreath and +veil on. Her younger sisters did very well as bridesmaids. The only will +I showed in the matter was in refusing to ask Phil Day to act as best +man, though I knew it was expected of me. I asked Herbert Riddell; and +the good fellow performed his part admirably, and made the thing go off +with some life. I verily believe he was the happiest person there. They +only had a very small breakfast for the nearest relations, my mother +remarking that we could have something larger afterwards; but the church +was crammed. The thing I remember best of that day, now fifteen years +ago, was the expression on Mrs. Day's and Katie's faces. It was not +pique--they were too well-bred for that--nor disappointment--they were +too proud for that, even had they felt it. And I don't believe that +there was any deep disappointment, at least on Katie's part. I had made +no undue advances; and she was far too sensible and sunny-tempered a +lassie to let herself do more than indulge in a few day-dreams, or to +wear the willow for any man, even if he were a good match, and had +pleased her fancy. She married, as every one knows, Herbert Riddell, and +made him a very good wife. But neither mother nor daughter could quite +keep out of their faces, wreathed in smiles as befitted the occasion, +the look of uncomprehending, unmitigated amazement, too overpowering to +dissemble. I suppose it was reflected on many others, and I remembering +overhearing Aunt Frances severely reproving Aunt Grace for so far +forgetting herself as to utter the vulgar remark that she "would give +ten thousand dollars to know what Roger was marrying that little fright +for." + +The Roger Greenway and Eleanor Beecher of ten years ago are so far past +now that I can talk of them like other people. That Roger Greenway +ranked so low in his class at college is only remembered to be cited as +a comfort to the mothers of stupid sons--Roger Greenway, now the coming +man in Massachusetts. Have I not made a yacht voyage round Southern +California, and is not my book on the deep-sea dredgings off the coasts +considered an important contribution to the Darwinian theory, having +drawn, in his later days, a kind and appreciative letter from the great +naturalist? Do I not bid fair to revolutionise American agriculture by +my success in domesticating the bison on my stock-farm in Maine? Have I +not come forward in politics, made brilliant speeches through the State, +and am I not now sitting in Congress for my second term? The world would +be incredulous if I told them that all this was due to Eleanor. She did +not, indeed, know exactly what deep-sea dredging was; but she said I +ought to do something with my yacht, and had better make a voyage, and +write a book about it. She is as afraid, not only of a bison, but of a +cow, as a well-principled woman ought to be; but she said I ought to do +something with my stock-farm, and had better try some experiments. She +is no advocate of women's going into politics; but she said I was a good +speaker, and ought to attend the primary meetings. And when I said the +difficulty was to think of anything to say, she said if that were all, +she could think of twenty things. So she did; and when I had once +begun, I could think of them myself. I have had no military training; +but if Eleanor were to say that she was sure I could take a fort, I +verily believe I could and should. + +Not less is Eleanor Beecher of the old days lost in Mrs. Roger Greenway. +As she grew older she grew stouter, which was very becoming to her, as +she had always been of a good height, though no one ever gave her credit +for it. Her complexion cleared up; her hair was better dressed, and +looked a different shade; and she developed an original taste in dress. +She developed a peculiar manner, too, very charming and quite her own. +She showed an organising faculty; and after getting her household under +perfect control, and starting her nursery on the most systematic basis, +she grew into planning and carrying out new charities. The name of Mrs. +Roger Greenway at the head of a charity committee wins public confidence +at once, and, seen among the "remonstrants" against woman's suffrage, +has more than once brought over half the doubtful votes in the General +Court. Every one says that I am unusually fortunate in having such a +wife for a public man, and my mother cannot sufficiently show her +delight in the wisdom of dear Roger's choice. + +Eleanor would never let me do what she called "pauperise" her family; +but I found Mr. Beecher a good place on a railroad, over which I had +some control, which he filled admirably, and built a new house to let to +him. I helped the boys through college, letting them pay me back, and +gave them employment in the lines they chose. The girls, under +pleasanter auspices, turned out prettier than their eldest sister, and +enjoyed society; and one is well married, and another engaged. + +Katie Day, as I said before, married Herbert Riddell. She was an +excellent wife, and made his means go twice as far as any one else could +have done. She and Eleanor are called intimate friends with as much +reason as Phil and I had been. I don't believe they ever have two words +to say to each other when alone together, but then they very seldom are. +Eleanor is always lending Katie the carriage, and sending her fruit and +flowers when she gives one of her exquisite little dinners; and Katie +looks pretty, and sings and talks at our parties, and so it goes on to +mutual satisfaction. + +We all have our youthful dreams, though to few of us is it given to find +them realities. Perhaps we might more often do so, did we know the +vision when we met it in mortal form. I had had my ideal, a shadowy one +indeed--and never, certainly, did I imagine that I was chasing after it +when I followed Eleanor down the fir-tree walk. "An eagerness to share +the overflowing gifts of fortune with others--a respectful tenderness +for those who had but little--a yearning sweetness of sympathy that +should disarm even envy, and give the very inequalities of life their +fitness and significance." Had I ever clothed my fancies in words like +these? I hardly knew; but as I watched my wife in the early days of our +married life, shyly and slowly learning to use her new powers, as the +butterfly, fresh from the chrysalis, stretches its cramped wings to the +sun and air, they took life and shape before me--and I felt the charm of +the "ever womanly" that has ever since drawn me on, as it must draw the +race. + +Did Eleanor's love for me spring from gratitude for, or pleasure in, the +wealth that was lavished on her with a liberal hand? Who shall say? A +girl's love, if love it be, is often won by gifts of but a little higher +sort. But if it be worthy of the name, it finds its earthly close in +loving for love's sake alone; and then it matters not how it came, for +it can never go, and the pulse of its life will be giving, not taking. +To Eleanor herself, sure of my heart because so sure of her own, it +would matter but little to-day if I had loved her first from pity. That +I did not is my own happiness, not hers. + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE STORY OF A WALL-FLOWER + + +It would never have occurred to anyone on seeing Margaret Parke for the +first time, that she was born to be a wall-flower,--plainness, or at +best insignificance of person, being demanded by the popular mind as an +attribute necessary to acting in that capacity, whereas Margaret was +five feet eight inches in height, with a straight swaying figure like a +young birch tree, a head well set back upon her shoulders--as if the +better to carry her masses of fair hair--an oval face, a straight nose, +blue eyes so deeply set, and so shaded by long dark eyelashes, that they +would have looked dark too, but for the sparkles of coloured light that +came from them, an apple-blossom skin, and thirty-two sound teeth behind +her ripe red lips. With all these disqualifications for the part, it was +a wonder that she should ever have thought of playing it; and to do her +justice, she never did,--but some have "greatness thrust upon them." + +Margaret's father, too, was a man of some consequence, having a +reputation great in degree, though limited in extent. He was hardly +known out of medical circles, but within them everyone had heard of Dr. +Parke of Royalston. His great work on "Tissues," which afterwards +established his fame on a secure basis, lay tucked away in manuscript, +with all its illustrations, for want of funds to publish it; but even +then there were rooms in every hospital in Europe into which a king +could hardly have gained admittance, where Dr. Parke might have walked +in at his pleasure. So brilliant had been "Sandy" Parke's career at +college, and in the Medical School, that his classmates had believed him +capable of anything; and when he married Margaret's mother, a beauty in +a quiet way, both young people, though neither had any money, were +thought to have done excellently well for themselves. Alas! they were +too young. Dr. Parke's marriage spoiled his chances of going abroad to +complete his medical education. When he launched on his profession, it +was found that many men were his superiors in the art of getting a +lucrative practice in a large city; and, at last, he was glad to settle +down in a country town, where he had a forty-mile circuit, moderate +gains, and still more moderate expenses. His passion was study, which he +pursued unremittingly, though time was brief and subjects were scanty. + +Mrs. Parke was a devoted wife and mother, who thought her husband the +greatest of men, and pitied the world for not recognising the fact. She +managed his affairs wisely, and they lived very comfortably and cheaply +in the pleasant semi-rural town. Could the children have remained babies +forever, Mrs. Parke's wishes would never have strayed beyond the limits +of her house and garden; but as they grew older, and so fast! ambition +began to stir in her heart. It was the great trial of her life that with +all her economy, they could not find it prudent to send the two oldest +boys to Harvard, but must content themselves with Williams College. She +bore it well; but when Margaret bloomed into loveliness that struck the +eyes of others than her partial parents, she felt here she must make an +effort. Margaret should go down to Boston to see and be seen in her own +old set, or what remained of it. Mrs. Parke was an orphan, with no very +near relations, but her connections were excellent, and her own first +cousin, Mrs. Robert Manton, might have been a most valuable one had +things been a little different. Unfortunately, Mrs. Manton, being early +left a widow, with a neat little property and no children, and having to +find some occupation for herself, had chosen the profession of an +invalid, which she pursued with exclusive devotion. She had long ceased +to follow the active side of it--that of endeavouring to do anything to +regain her health; having exhausted the resources of every physician of +reputation in the New England and Middle States, among them Dr. Parke, +who, like the others, did not understand her case, and indeed had never +been able to see that she had any. She had now passed into the passive +stage, trying only to avoid anything that might do her harm. She never +went to Royalston, as there was far too much noise in the house there to +suit her, but she felt kindly towards her cousin's family, and when she +was able would send them pretty presents at Christmas. More often she +would simply order a box of confectionery to be sent them, which they +ate up as fast as possible, Dr. Parke being inclined to growl when he +saw it about. + +Cousin Susan had rather dropped out of society, though the little she +did keep up was of a very select order; and Mrs. Parke knew better than +to expect her to take any trouble to introduce Margaret into it. The +bare idea of having a young girl on her hands to take about would have +sent her out of her senses. But she lived in her own very good house on +West Cedar Street, and though she had let most of it to a physician, +reserving rooms for herself and her maid, surely there was some little +nook into which she could squeeze Margaret, if the girl, who had a +pretty talent for drawing, could be sent to Boston to take a quarter at +the Art School. Mrs. Manton assented, because refusing and excusing were +too much trouble. Mrs. Parke had also written to an old school friend, +now Mrs. David Underwood; a widow, too, but still better endowed, who +had kept up with the world, and went out and entertained freely; the +more, because her son, Ralph Underwood, a rising young stockbroker, was +a distinguished member of the younger Boston society. Mrs. Underwood had +visited the Parkes in her early widowhood, when Ralph was a little boy +and Margaret a baby, and had been most hospitably entertained. Of course +she would be only too glad to do all she could to show her friend's +pretty daughter the world, and show her to it. + +Now, if Mrs. Parke had sent Margaret down to Boston a year sooner or a +year later, things would doubtless have taken quite another turn, and +this history could never have been written. But the year before she was +still feeding her family on stews and boiled rice, to lay up the money +for Margaret's expenses, and working early and late to get up an outfit +for her; which objects she achieved by the autumn of 188-. What baleful +conjunction of planets was then occurring to make Mrs. Underwood +mutter, as she read the letter, that she wished Mary Pickering had +chosen any other time to fasten her girl upon them, while Ralph growled +across the breakfast-table under his breath, "At any rate, don't ask her +to stay with us," must be left for the future to disclose. Mrs. +Underwood eagerly promised anything and everything her son chose to ask, +and as he sauntered out of the house leaving his breakfast untouched, +and she watched anxiously after him from the window, the important +letter dropped unheeded from her hand, and out of her mind. + +Margaret came down in due season, bright and expectant. Cousin Susan was +rather taken aback at the girl's beauty, partly frightened at the +responsibilities it involved, partly relieved by the thought that it +would make Mrs. Underwood the more willing to assume them all. Margaret +went to the Art School, and got on very well with her drawing. She was +much admired by the other girls, who were never weary of sketching her. +They were nice girls, though they did not move in the sphere of society +in which they seemed to take it for granted that Margaret must achieve a +distinguished success; and even though she was modest in her +disclaimers, she could not help feeling that she might have what they +called "a good time" under Mrs. Underwood's auspices. + +Mrs. Underwood for more than a week gave no sign of life; then made a +very short, very formal call, apologising for her tardiness by reason of +her numerous engagements, and proffering no further civilities; and when +Margaret, in a day or two, returned the call, she found Mrs. Underwood +"very much engaged." But in another day or two there came a note from +her, asking Margaret to a small and early dance at her house, and a card +for a set of Germans at Papanti's Hall, of which she was one of the lady +patronesses, and which Cousin Susan knew to be the set of the season. In +her note she rather curtly stated that she had settled the matter of +Margaret's subscription to the latter affairs, and that she would call +and take her to the first, which was to come off three days after her +own dance. Margaret was pleased, but a little frightened; there was +something not very encouraging in the manner of Mrs. Underwood's note; +though perhaps it was silly to mind that when the matter was so +satisfactory,--only she did hate to go to her first dance alone. She +longed even for Cousin Susan's chaperonage, though she knew her longings +were vain; Mrs. Manton never went out in the evening under any +circumstances, and told Margaret that there was no need of a chaperon at +so small an affair at the house of an intimate friend, and that she +should have that especially desirable cab and cabman that she honoured +with her own custom, whenever she could make up her mind to leave the +house. It would, of course, be charged on her bill; after which piece of +munificence she washed her hands of the whole affair. + +Margaret set out alone. It was a formidable ordeal for her to get +herself into the house and up the staircase, and glad was she when she +was safely landed in the dressing-room, though there was not a soul +there whom she knew. Her dress was a pink silk that had been a part of +her mother's trousseau; a good gown, though not at all the shade people +were wearing now; but Mrs. Parke had made it over very carefully, and +veiled it with white muslin. It had looked very nice to Margaret till it +came in contact with the other girls' dresses. She hoped they would not +look at it depreciatingly; and they did not,--they never looked at it at +all, or at her either. She stood in the midst of the gayly greeting +groups, less noticed than if she were a piece of furniture, on which at +least a wrap or two might have been thrown. She found it easy enough, +however, to get downstairs and into the reception-room in the stream, +and up to Mrs. Underwood, who looked worried and anxious, said she was +glad to see her, and it was a very cold evening; and then, as the +waiting crowd pushed Margaret on, she could hear the hostess tell the +next comer that she was glad to see him, and that it was a very warm +evening. Margaret was softly but irresistibly urged on toward the door +of the larger room where the dancing was to be; but that she had not the +courage to enter alone, and coming across a single chair just at the +entrance, she sat down in it and sat on for two hours without stirring. +The men were bustling about to ask the girls who had already the most +engagements; the girls were some of them looking out for possible +partners, some on the watch for the men by whom they most wished to be +asked to dance; but no one asked Margaret. The music struck up, and +still she sat on unheeded. + +The loneliness of one in a crowd has often been dwelt upon, as greater +than that of the wanderer in the desert; but all pictures of isolation +are feeble compared to that of a solitary girl in a ballroom. Margaret's +seat was in such a conspicuous position that it seemed as if all the +couples who crushed past her in and out of the ballroom must take in the +whole fact of her being neglected. There were a few older ladies in the +room, but these sat together in another part of it, and talked among +themselves without paying any heed to her. + +At first she hardly took in the situation in all its significance; but +as dance after dance began and ended, she began to feel puzzled and +frightened. Did the Underwoods mean to be rude to her, or was this the +way people in society always behaved, and ought she to have known it all +along? Ought she to feel more indignant with them, or ashamed of +herself? If she could only know what the proper sentiment for the +occasion might be, it would be some relief to feel miserable in the +proper way. Miserable her condition must be, since she was the only girl +in it. + +At last Mrs. Underwood brought up her son and introduced him. He was a +tall, dark, well-grown young fellow, who might have been handsome but +for a look of gloomy sulkiness which made his face repulsive. He +muttered something indistinguishable and held out his arm, and Margaret, +understanding it as an invitation to dance, mechanically rose, and +allowed herself to be conducted to the ballroom. She made one or two +remarks to which he never replied, and after pushing her once or twice +round the room in as perfunctory a manner as if he were moving a table, +watching the door over her head, meanwhile, with an attention which made +him perpetually lose the step, he suddenly dropped her a little way from +her former seat, on which she was glad to take refuge. She thought she +must have made a worse figure on the floor than sitting down, and then +a terrible fear rushed over her like a cold chill. Was there something +very much amiss with her appearance? Had anything very shocking happened +to her gown? She looked at it furtively; but just then the bustle of a +late arrival diverted her thoughts a little, as a short, plump, +black-eyed girl came laughing in, followed by a quiet, middle-aged lady, +and a rather bashful-looking young man. Margaret thought her only rather +pretty, not knowing that she was Miss Kitty Chester, the beauty of +Boston for the past two seasons; however, she did observe that she had +the most gorgeous gown, the biggest nosegay, and the highest spirits in +the room. She hastened up to Mrs. Underwood, with an effusive greeting, +which that lady seemed trying, not quite successfully, to return in +kind. Half of the girls in the room, and most of the men, gathered round +her in a moment; and a confused rattle of lively small talk arose, of +which Margaret could make out nothing. She noticed, however, that the +other girls, many of them momentarily deserted, appeared to regard the +sensation with something of a disparaging air, and she heard one of them +say, that it was a little too bad, even for Kitty Chester. What "it" +might be remained a mystery, but there was no doubt that it contributed +amazingly to the success of Mrs. Underwood's dance, which went on, +Margaret thought, with redoubled zest, for all but herself; nor, indeed, +did Ralph Underwood appear enlivened, for she caught a glimpse of him +across the room, sulkier than ever. To her surprise, as he looked her +way, a sort of satisfaction, it could not be called pleasure, suddenly +dawned on his face. Surely she could never be the cause! And then for +the first time she perceived that someone was standing behind her; and, +as one is apt to do in such a consciousness, she turned sharply and +suddenly around, the confusion which came too late to check her movement +coloring her face. It was a relief to find that it was a very +insignificant person on whom her glance fell, a small, plain man of +indefinite age, who looked, as the girls phrase it, "common." He was +dressed like the other men, but his clothes had not the set of theirs, +and he had the air, if not of actual ill-health, of being in poor +condition. In that one glance her eyes met his, which sent back a look, +not of recognition, but of response. There was nothing which she could +notice as an assumption of familiarity, but if anyone else had seen it +they might have thought that she had been speaking to him. Of course, +she could do nothing but turn as quickly back; but she was conscious +that he still kept his place, and somehow it seemed a kind of protection +to have him there. He stood near, but not obtrusively so; a little to +one side, in just such a position that she could have spoken to him +without moving, and they might have been thought to be looking on +together, too much at their ease to talk. When people paired off for +supper and nobody came for her, he waited till everyone else had left +the room, so that he might have been thought her escort. He then +disappeared; but in a moment Margaret was amazed by the entrance of a +magnificent colored waiter, who offered her a choice of refreshments +with the finest manners of his race. His subordinates rushed upon each +other's heels with all the delicacies she wished, and more that she had +never heard of, and their chief came again to see that she was properly +served. Not a young woman at the ball had so good a supper as Margaret; +but that is the portion of the entertainment for which young women care +the least. + +Just before the crowd surged back from the supper-room, her protector, +as she could not help calling him to herself, had slipped back into his +old place, so naturally that he might have been there all the time +during the supper, whose remains the waiters were now carrying off with +as much deference as they had brought it. Margaret wondered how a person +who looked, somehow, so out of his sphere, could act as if he were so +perfectly in it. Very few people seemed to know him, and though when +one or two of the men spoke to him it was with an air of being well +acquainted, he seemed rather to discourage their advances, and Margaret +was glad, for she dreaded his being drawn away from her neighbourhood. +While she was puzzling over the question as to whether he were a poor +relation, or Ralph's old tutor, the wished-for, yet dreaded hour of her +release sounded,--dreaded, for how to say her good-by and get out of the +room. But somehow the unknown was close behind her, and one or two of a +party who were going at the same time were speaking to him, so she might +have been of, as well as in, the group. Mrs. Underwood looked worried +and tired and had hardly a word for her, but seemed to have something to +say to her companion of a confidential nature, by which, however, he +would not allow himself to be detained, but excused himself in a few +murmured words, which seemed to satisfy his hostess, and passed on, +still close behind Margaret, to the door, where they came full against +Ralph Underwood, who barely returned Margaret's bow, but exclaimed: +"What, Al, going? Oh, come now, don't go." + +"Al" said something in a low voice, as inexpressive as the rest of him, +of which Margaret could only distinguish the words "coming back," and +followed her on, waiting till she came down the stairs and out of the +house. He did not offer to put her into the carriage, but somehow it was +done without any exertion on her part, and as she drove off, she saw him +on the steps looking after her. + +Margaret had a fine spirit of her own, and could have borne the downfall +of her illusions and hopes as well as ninety-nine young women out of a +hundred. She could even, when her distresses were well over, have +laughed at them herself, and turned over the leaf in hopes of a better. +But what was she to write home about it? how satisfy her father, mother, +and Winnie, eager for news of her? how bear their disappointment? There +lay the sting. "If it were not for them," she thought, "I should not +mind so very much." She was strictly truthful both by nature and +education, and though she did feel that if ever a few white lies were +justifiable, they would be here, she dismissed the notion as foolish, as +well as wicked, and lay awake most of the night, trying to +diplomatically word a letter which should keep to the facts and still +give a cheerful impression. "Mrs. Underwood's dance was very pretty," +she said, and she described the decorations and dresses. She had "rather +a quiet time" herself, not knowing many people, and did not dance more +than "once or twice." Here was a long pause, until she decided that +"once or twice" might literally stand for one as well as more. She did +not see much of Mrs. Underwood or Ralph, as they were busy receiving, +but "some of the men were very kind." Here again conscience pricked her; +but to say one man would sound so pointed and particular--it would draw +attention and perhaps inquiry which she could but ill sustain; and then +luckily the devotion of the black waiters darted into her mind, and she +went off peacefully to sleep, her difficulties conquered for the +present, and a feeling of gratitude toward the unknown warm at her +heart. Of course "a man like that" could only have acted out of pure +good-nature, and couldn't have expected that she should dream of its +being anything else. She wished she could have thanked him for it. + +The lesser trial of having to tell Cousin Susan about it was fortunately +averted. Mrs. Manton never left her room the next day, and when Margaret +saw her late the day after, the party was an old story, and Margaret +could say carelessly that it had been rather slow, and her host not +particularly attentive, without exciting too much comment. Cousin Susan +said it was a pity, but that it would be better at the next, as she +would know a few people to start with. Margaret did not feel so sure of +that, and wished she could stay away; but she had no excuse to give +without telling more of the truth than she could bring herself to do; +and then, she reasoned, things might be different next time. Mrs. +Underwood might have more time or inclination to attend to her, when she +was not occupied with her other guests; and there were other matrons, +some of whom might be good-natured,--perhaps some of the men might +notice her at a second view, and ask her to dance; at any rate, she +thought, it could not well be worse than the first. She wished she had +another gown to wear than that pink silk, which might be unlucky, but +the white muslin prepared as an alternative was by no means smart +enough. So she put on the gown of Monday, trying to improve it in +various little ways, and waited with something that might be called +heroism. + +Mrs. Underwood called at the appointed hour. She bade Margaret good +evening, and asked if she minded taking a front seat, as she was going +to take up Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; and that, and Margaret's +acquiescence, was about all that passed between them till the carriage +stopped, and a faded-looking, though youngish woman, plain, but with an +air of some distinction got in, and acknowledged her introduction to +Margaret with a few muttered indistinguishable words. + +"Dear Katharine, I am so glad!" said Mrs. Underwood; "I thought you +would certainly have some girl to take, and I should have to go alone." + +"I'm not quite such a fool, thank you," said Mrs. Freeman, in a quick +little incisive voice that somehow brought her words out; "I told them +I'd be a patroness, if I need have no trouble, and no responsibilities; +but you needn't expect to see me with a girl on my hands." + +"Oh, but any girl with you would be sure to take." + +"You can never tell--unless a girl happens to hit, or her people are +willing to entertain handsomely, you can't do much for her. A girl may +be pretty enough, and nice enough, and have good connections, too, and +she may fall perfectly flat. I had such a horrid time last winter with +Nina Turner; I couldn't well refuse them. Well, thank Heaven, she's +going _in_ this winter;--going to set up a camera and take to +photography." + +"I wish more of them would go in," said Mrs. Underwood with a groan. +"Here has Bella Manning accepted, if you will believe it. I should think +she had had enough of sitting out the German. Well--I shan't trouble +myself about her this winter. She ought to go in and be done with it." + +"The mistake was in her ever coming out," said Mrs. Freeman, with a +laugh at her own wit. + +"It is a mistake a good many of them have made this year. Did you ever +see a plainer set of debutantes?" + +"Never, really; it seems to have given Mabel Tufts courage to hold on +another year. I hear she's coming." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Underwood scornfully. "It's too absurd. Why, her own +nephews are out in society! They go about asking the other fellows, +'Have you met my aunt?' Ned Winship has made a song with those words for +a chorus, and the boys all sing it. And yet, Mabel is very pretty +still--I wonder no one has married her." + +"Mabel Tufts was never the sort of girl men care to marry." + +Margaret wondered in her own mind at the sort of girl Mr. Thorndike +Freeman had cared to marry. She tried to keep her courage up, but it +grew weaker as she followed the other ladies upstairs and took off her +wraps and pulled on her gloves as fast as she could, while Mrs. +Underwood stood impatiently waiting, and Mrs. Freeman looked Margaret +over beginning with her feet and working upward. + +"Have you a partner engaged, Miss Parke?" asked Mrs. Underwood suddenly. + +"No"--faltered Margaret, unable to add anything to the bare fact. + +"I am afraid you won't get one then, there are so many more girls than +men." + +The "so many more" turned out, in fact, to be two or three, but Margaret +had no hope. She felt that whoever got a partner, it would not be she. +The dancers paired off, the seats were drawn, the music began, and she +found herself sitting by Mrs. Underwood on the back row of raised +benches, with a quarter view of that lady's face, as she chatted with +Mrs. Thorndike Freeman on the other side. There were only two other +girls, as far as Margaret could make out, among the chaperons. Some of +the latter were young enough, no doubt, but their dress and careless +easy manner marked the difference. A pretty, thin, very +fashionable-looking elderly young lady sat near Margaret;--perhaps the +luckless Mabel Tufts; but she seemed to know plenty of people, and was +perpetually being taken out for turns. She laughed and talked freely, as +if defying her position, and Margaret wished she could carry it off so +well, little guessing how fiercely the other was envying her for the +simplicity that might not know how bad her plight was, and the youth +that had still such boundless possibilities in store. Another small, +pale girl in a dark silk sat far back, and perhaps had only come to look +on,--too barefaced a pretence for Margaret in her terribly obtrusive +pink gown. She could not even summon resolution to refuse young +Underwood when he asked her for a turn, though she wished she had after +he had deposited her in her chair again and stalked off with the air of +one who has done his duty. + +The griefs of a young woman who has no partner for the German, though +perhaps not so lasting as those of one who lacks bread and shelter, are +worse while they do last, for there may be no shame in lacking bread, +and one can, and generally does, take to begging before starving. As the +giraffe is popularly supposed to suffer exceptionally from sore throat, +owing to the length of that portion of his frame, so did Margaret, as +she sat through one figure, and then through another, feel her torture +through every nerve of her five feet, eight inches. What would she not +have given to be smaller, perhaps even plainer,--somehow less +conspicuous. Man after man strolled past her, and lounged in front of +her, chatting and laughing with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; but it was not +possible they could help seeing her, however they might ignore her. + +"_Le jour sera dur, mais il se passera._" + +Margaret could have looked forward to all this being over at last, and +to night and darkness, and bed for relief; but--here rose again the +spectre--what could she write home about it? She could not devise +another evasive letter; she must tell the whole truth, and had better +have done so at first--for of course she should never, never come to one +of these things again. The hands of the great clock crept slowly on; +would they never hurry to midnight before the big ball in her throat +swelled to choking, and her quivering, burning, throbbing pulses drove +her to do something, she could not tell what, to get away and out of it +all? + +The second figure was over, and she looked across the great hall, +wondering if she could not truthfully plead a headache, and go to the +cloak-room. But how was she to get there? and what could she do there +alone? She would have died on the spot rather than make any appeal to +Mrs. Underwood. No, she must go through with it; and then as she looked +again, a great, sudden sense of relief came over her, for she saw in the +doorway the slouching figure of her friend of Monday. He did not look at +her, and she doubted if he saw her; but it was something to have him in +the room. In a moment more, however, she saw him speak to Ralph +Underwood; and then the latter came up to her and asked if he might +present a friend of his, and at her acquiescence, moved away and came up +again with "Miss Parke, let me introduce Mr. Smith." + +"I am very sorry to say I don't dance," Mr. Smith began, "but I hear +that there are more ladies than men to-night; so perhaps if you have not +a partner already, you won't mind doing me the favour of sitting it out +with me." + +Margaret hardly knew what he meant, but she would have accepted, had he +asked her to dance a _pas de deux_ with him in the middle of the hall. +She took his arm and they walked far down to a place at the very end of +the line of chairs; but it did not matter; it was in the crowd. + +Mr. Smith did not say much at first; he hung her opera cloak over the +back of her chair carefully, so that she could draw it up if she needed +it, and somehow the way he did so made her feel quite at home with him, +and as if she had known him for a long time; even though she perceived, +now that she had the opportunity to look more closely at him, that he +was by no means so old as she had at first taken him to be. His hair was +thin, and there were one or two deeply-marked lines on his face, but +there was something about his figure and motions that gave an impression +of youthfulness. Without knowing his age, you would have said that he +looked old for it. He was rather undersized than small, having none of +the trim compactness that we associate with the latter word, and his +face had the dull, thick, sodden skin that indicates unhealthy +influences in childhood. + +"That was a pleasant party at Mrs. Underwood's the other evening," he +began at last. + +"Was it?" said Margaret, "I never was at a party before--I mean a party +like that." + +"And I have been to very few; parties are not much in my line, and when +I do go I am generally satisfied with looking on; but I like that very +well, sometimes." + +"Perhaps," said Margaret ingenuously, "if I had gone only to look on, I +should have thought it pleasant too; but I did not suppose one went to a +party for that." + +"You do not know many people in Boston?" + +"Oh, no! I live in the country--at Royalston. I don't know anyone here +but Mrs. Underwood; but I thought--mamma said, that she would probably +introduce me to some of her friends; but she didn't--not to one. Don't +people do so now?" + +"Well, it depends on circumstances. I certainly think she might have; +but then she has so much to think about, you know." + +"I suppose I was foolish to expect anything different, but I had read +about parties, and I thought--I was very silly--but I thought I didn't +look so very badly. I thought I should dance a little--that everybody +did. Perhaps my gown doesn't look right. Mamma made it, and took a +great deal of pains with it. Of course, it isn't so new or nice as the +others here, but I can't see that it looks so very different; do you?" + +"It looks very nice to me," said Mr. Smith, smiling. He had a pleasant, +rather melancholy smile, which gave his face the sole physical +attraction it possessed, and would have given it more, if he had had +better teeth. "It looks very nice to me, and as you are my partner, I am +the one you should wish most to please." + +"Oh, thank you! it was so kind in you to ask me. I can tell them when I +write home that I had a partner at any rate; and you can tell me who +some of the others are." + +"I am afraid not many," said Mr. Smith, "I go out but very little. I +only went to the Underwoods because Ralph is an old friend of mine, and +I came here because--" He checked himself suddenly. + +"I am sorry, since he is your friend, but I must say that I do think him +very disagreeable. I did not know a man could be so unpleasant. I had +rather he had not danced with me at all than to do it in that terribly +dreary way, as if he were doing it because he had to." + +"You mustn't be hard on poor Ralph. He's a very good fellow, really, but +he's almost beside himself just now. The very day of their dance, Kitty +Chester's engagement came out. She had been keeping him hanging on for +more than a year, and at one time he really thought she was going to +have him; and not only that, but she and Frank Thomas actually came to +his party, and they are here to-night. Ralph acts as if he had lost his +senses, and his mother is almost wild about him. Why, after their dance, +I was up all the rest of the night with him. He can't make any fight +about it, and I think it would be better if he were to go away; but he +won't--he just hangs about wherever she is to be seen. We all do all we +can to get him to pluck up some spirit, but it's no go--yet." + +"I am very sorry for him," said Margaret, with all a girl's interest in +a love story; and she cast an awe-struck glance toward the spot where +Miss Chester was keeping half a dozen young men in conversation; "but he +need not make everyone else so uncomfortable on account of it--need he?" + +"He needn't make himself so uncomfortable, you might say, for a girl who +could treat him in that way; but it doesn't do to tell a man that. It +doesn't seem to me that I should give up everything in the way he is +doing; but then I was never in his place; of course, things are +different for Ralph and me." + +"Yes, I am sure, you are different. I don't believe you would ever have +behaved so ill to one girl in your own mother's house, because another +hadn't treated you well." + +"I have had such a different experience of life; that was what I meant. +It made me sympathise with you when you felt a little strange; though of +course, it was only a mere accident that things happened so with you. +Now, I was never brought up in society, and always feel a little out of +place in it." + +"I don't know much about society either; we live very quietly at home, +and when we do go out, why it is at home, you know, and that makes it +different." + +"I suppose you live in a pretty place when you are at home?" + +"Oh, Royalston is lovely!" said Margaret, eagerly; "there are beautiful +walks and drives all round it, and the streets have wide grass borders, +and great elms arching over them, and every house has a garden, and our +garden is one of the prettiest there. The place was an old one when +father bought it, and the flower-beds have great thick box edges and +they are so full of flowers; and there is a long walk up to the front +door, between lilac bushes as big as trees, some purple and some white; +and inside it is so pleasant, with rooms built on here and there, all in +and out, and stairs up and down between them. Of course we are not rich +at all, and things are very plain, but mamma has so much taste; and then +there are all the old doors and windows, and the big fireplaces with +carved mantel-pieces, and so much old panelling and queer little +cupboards in the rooms--mamma says it is the kind of house that +furnishes itself." + +"I see--it is a good thing to have such a home to care about. Now I was +born in the ugliest village you can conceive of in the southern part of +Illinois; dust all summer, and mud all winter, and in one of the ugliest +houses in it; and yet, do you know, I am fond of the place; it was home. +We were very poor then--poorer than you can possibly conceive of--and I +was very sickly when I was a boy, and had to stay in most of the time. I +was fond of reading, though I hadn't many books, but I never saw any +society--what you would call society. When I was old enough to go to +college, father had got along a little, and sent me to Harvard. I liked +it there, and some of the fellows were very kind to me, especially Ralph +Underwood, though you might not think it. I tried to learn what I could +of their ways and customs, but it was rather late for me, and I never +cared to go out much; and then--there were other reasons." A faint flush +rose on his sallow face and he paused. Margaret fancied he alluded to +his poverty, and felt sorry for him. She hoped he was getting on in the +world, though he did not look very well fitted for it. By this time they +were on a footing of easy comradeship, such as two people of the same +sex and on the same plane of thought sometimes fall into at their first +meeting. It is not often that a young man and a girl of such different +antecedents slide so easily into it; but as Margaret said to herself, +this was a peculiar case. He had told his little story with an apparent +effort to be strictly truthful and put things in their proper position +at the outset. There could be no intentions on his part, or foolish +consciousness or any reason for it on hers, and she asked him with +undisguised interest: + +"Where do you live now,--in Illinois?" + +"Not that part of it. Father and mother live in Chicago when they are at +home. I am in Cambridge, just now, myself; it is a convenient place for +my work"; and then as her eyes still looked inquiry, he went on, "I am +writing a book." + +"Oh! and what is it about?" + +"The Albigenses--it is a historical monograph upon the Albigenses." + +"That must be a very interesting subject." + +"It is interesting. It would be too long a story to tell you how I came +to think of writing it, but I do enjoy it very much indeed. It's the +great pleasure of my life. It isn't that I have any ambition, you know," +he said in a disclaiming manner. "It's not the kind of book that will +sell well, or be very generally read, for I know I haven't the power to +make it as readable as it ought to be; but I hope it may be useful to +other writers. I am making it as complete as I can. I have been out +twice to Europe to look up authorities, and spent a long time in the +south of France studying localities." + +"Oh, have you? how delightful it must be! Father writes too," with a +little pride in her tone, "but it's all on medical subjects; we don't +understand them, and he doesn't care to have us. He hates women to +dabble in medicine, and he says amateur physicians, anyhow, are no +better than quacks." + +Mr. Smith made no answer, and they sat silent, till Margaret, fancying +that perhaps he did not like the conversation turned from his book, +asked another question on the subject. She was a well-taught girl, fond +of books, and accustomed to hear them talked over at home, and made an +intelligent auditor. The evening flew by rapidly for both of them, +though their tête-à-tête was seldom disturbed. The man who sat on +Margaret's other side, after staring at her for a long time, asked to be +introduced to her, and took her out once; but it was not very +satisfactory, for he had nothing to talk of but the season, and other +parties of which she knew nothing. However, the figure brought a group +of the ladies together for a moment in the middle of the hall; and a +smiling girl who had been pretty before her face had taken on the tint +of a beetroot, made some pleasant remark to Margaret on the excessive +heat of the room, but was off and away before the answer. Margaret +thought the room comfortably cool--but then she had been sitting still, +while the other had hardly touched her chair since she came. Almost at +the end of the evening too, it dawned upon good-natured, short-sighted, +absent-minded Mrs. Willy Lowe, always put into every list of patronesses +to keep the peace among them, that the pretty girl in pink did not seem +to be dancing much; and she seized and dragged across the room, much as +if by the hair of the head, the only man she could lay hold of--a shy, +awkward undergraduate, of whose little wits she quickly deprived him, by +introducing him as Warner, his real name being Warren. She addressed +Margaret as Miss Parker; but she meant well, and Margaret was grateful, +though they interrupted Mr. Smith in his account of the Roman +Amphitheatre at Arles, and the "Lilies of Arles." But it was well that +she should have something to put into her letter home besides Mr. +Smith--it would never do to have it entirely taken up with him. By the +by, what was his other name? Mr. Smith sounded so unmeaning. She had +heard Ralph Underwood call his friend "Al," which it would not do for +her to use. It might be either Alfred or Albert, and with that proneness +to imagine we have heard what we wish, it really seemed to her as if she +had heard that his name was Albert; she would venture on it, and if she +were mistaken it would be very easy to correct it afterwards; and she +wrote him down as "Mr. Albert Smith." His story she considered as told +in confidence and nobody's affair but his own. + +Cousin Susan had never heard the name, but thought of course he must be +one of the right Smiths, or he wouldn't have been there; there were +plenty of them, and this one, it seemed, had lived much abroad. She +would ask Mrs. Underwood when they next met; but this did not happen +soon, and Cousin Susan never took any pains to expedite events--she was +not able. The world did not make allowance for this habit of hers, but +went on its determined course, and the very next day but one, as +Margaret was lightly skimming with her quick country walk across the +Public Garden on her way to the Art School, Mr. Smith, overtaking her +with some difficulty, asked if he might not carry her portfolio? he was +going that way. She did not know how she could, nor why she should, +refuse and they walked happily on together. People turned to look after +them rather curiously, and Margaret thought it must be because she was +so much taller than Mr. Smith and wondered if he minded it. She should +be very sorry if he did--she was sure she did not if he did not; and she +longed to tell him so, but of course that would never do; and then the +little worry faded from her mind, her companion had so much to say that +was pleasant to hear. + +After that he joined her on her way more and more frequently. She did +not think it could be improper. The Public Garden was free to everybody, +and after all he didn't come every day, and somehow the meetings always +had an accidental air, which seemed to put them out of her control. He +could hardly call on her in the little sitting-room, where Cousin Susan +was almost always lying on her sofa by the fire in a wrapper, secure +from the intrusion of any man but the reigning physician. Sometimes Mrs. +Swain, below, asked Margaret to sit with her, but the Swain sitting-room +was full of their own affairs, the children and servants running in and +out by day, and Dr. Swain, when at home, resting there in the evening. +Margaret felt herself in the way in both places, and preferred her own +chilly little bedroom. A man calling would be a sad infliction, and +have a most tiresome time of it himself. The winter was a warm and +bright one, and it was far pleasanter to stroll along the walks when it +was too early for the school. + +Their acquaintance during this time progressed rapidly in some respects, +more slowly in others. They knew each others' opinions and views on a +vast variety of subjects. On many of these they were in accordance, and +when they differed, Mr. Smith usually brought her round to his point of +view in a way which she enjoyed more than if she had seen it at first. +Sometimes she brought him round to hers, and then she was proud and +pleased indeed. He told her all about his book, what he had done on it, +what he did day by day, and what he projected. On her side, Margaret +told him a world about her own family,--their names, ages, characters, +and occupations,--but on this head he was by no means so communicative. +She supposed the subject might be a painful one, after she had found out +that he was the only survivor of a large family. He spoke of his +parents, when he did speak, respectfully and affectionately, casually +mentioning that his father had been very kind to let him take up +literature instead of going into business. Margaret conjectured that +they were not very well-to-do, and probably uneducated, and that without +any false shame, of which, indeed, she judged him incapable, he might +not enjoy being questioned about them; and she was rapidly learning an +insight into his feelings, and a tender care for them. But one day a +sudden impulse put it into her head to ask his Christian name, as yet +unknown to her, and he quietly answered that it was Alcibiades. + +Margaret did not quite appreciate the ghastly irony of the appellation, +but it hit upon her ear unpleasantly, and yet not as entirely +unfamiliar. She was silent while her mind made one of those plunges +among old memories, which, as when one reaches one's arm into a still +pool after something glimmering at the bottom, only ruffles the water +until the wished-for treasure is entirely lost to view; then she frankly +said. "I was trying to think where I had heard your name before, but I +can't." + +Mr. Smith actually colored, a rare thing for him, and Margaret longed to +start some fresh topic, but could think of none. He did it for her in a +moment, by asking her whether she meant to go to the German next +Thursday. + +"I don't think I shall. I don't know anyone there, and it doesn't seem +worth while." + +"I was going to ask you," said Mr. Smith, still with a slight confusion +which she had never noticed in him before, "if you would mind going, and +sitting it out with me as we did the other night?" + +"No, but--oh, yes, I should enjoy that ever so much, but--would you like +it? You wouldn't go if it were not for me, would you?" + +"I certainly should not go if it were not for you; and I shall like it +better than I ever liked anything in my life." + +It was now Margaret's turn to blush, and far more deeply. They had +reached the corner of West Cedar Street, and parted with but few words +more, for he never went further with her, and she went home in a happy +dream, only broken by a few slight perplexities. What should she wear? +She could not be marked out by that old pink silk again; she must wear +the white, and make the best of it. And how was she to get there? She +knew that it would not have been the thing for Mr. Smith to ask her to +go with him. She was so urgent about the matter that she brought herself +to do what she fairly hated, and wrote a timid little note to Mrs. +Underwood, asking if she might not go with her. Mrs. Underwood wrote +back that she was sorry, but her carriage was full; she would meet Miss +Parke in the cloak-room. Even Cousin Susan was a little moved at this, +and said it was too bad of Mrs. Underwood, though she had no suggestion +to make herself but her former one of a cab. Margaret was apprehensive; +but she knew that when she once got there, Mr. Smith would make it all +right and easy for her, and her little troubles faded away in the light +of a great pleasure beyond. The old white muslin looked better than +might have been expected, and Cousin Susan gave her a lovely pair of +long gloves; and she came down into the sitting-room to show off their +effect, well pleased. On the table stood a big blue box with a card +bearing her name attached to it. Mrs. Swain, who had come in to see her +dress, was regarding it curiously, and Jenny, who had brought it up, was +lingering and peering through the half-open door. + +"Your partner has sent you some flowers, Margaret," said Cousin Susan +with unusual animation. "Do open that immense box, and let us see them!" + +Margaret had never thought of Mr. Smith sending her any flowers. She +wished that Jenny had had the sense to take them into her own room; she +would have liked to open them by herself; but it was of no use to +object, and slowly and unwillingly she untied the cords, and lifted the +lid. Silver paper, sheet upon sheet, cotton wool, layer upon layer; and +then more silver paper came forth. An ineffable perfume was filling her +senses and bringing up dim early memories. It grew stronger, and they +grew weaker, as at last she took out a great bunch of white lilacs, the +large sprays tied loosely and carelessly together with a wide, soft, +thick white ribbon. + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Swain, in a slightly disappointed tone; "yes, very +pretty; I suppose that is the style now; and they are raised in a +hothouse, and must be a rarity at this season." + +"Where's his card?" asked Cousin Susan. But the card was tightly crushed +up in Margaret's hand; she was not going to have "Alcibiades" exclaimed +over. She need not have been afraid, for it only bore the words, "Mr. A. +Smith, Jr." A pencil line was struck through "14,000 Michigan Avenue, +Chicago," and "Garden Street, Cambridge," scribbled over it. + +Margaret wondered how she should ever get her precious flowers safely +upstairs and into the hall--the box was so big; but the moment the +carriage stopped an obsequiously bowing servant helped her out, seized +her load, ushered her up and into the cloak-room, and set down his +burden with an impressiveness that seemed to strike even the chattering +groups of girls. Mrs. Underwood was nowhere to be seen, and Margaret was +glad to have time to adjust her dress carefully. She took out her +flowers at last; but on turning to the glass for a last look, saw that +one of the knots of ribbon on her bodice was half-unpinned, and stopped +to lay her nosegay down, while she secured it more firmly. + +"Oh, don't!" cried a voice beside her; "don't, pray don't put them +down"; and Margaret turned to meet the pretty girl, very pretty now, +whose passing word at the last dance had been the only sign of notice +she had received from one of her own sex. "You'll spoil them," she went +on; "do let me take them while you pin on your bow." + +Margaret, surprised and grateful, yielded up her flowers, which the +other took gingerly with the tips of her fingers, tossing her own large +lace-edged bouquet of red rosebuds on to a chair. + +"You will spoil your own beautiful flowers," said Margaret. + +"Oh, mine are tough! And then--why, they are very nice, of course, but +not anything to compare to yours"--handling them as if they were made of +glass. + +Margaret, astonished, took them back with thanks, and wished a moment +later, that she had asked this good-natured young person to let her go +into the ballroom with her party. But she had already been swept off by +a crowd of friends, throwing back a parting smile and nod, and Margaret, +left alone, and rather nervous at finding how late it was getting, +walked across the room to the little side door that led into the dancing +hall, and peeped through. There sat Mrs. Underwood at the further end, +having evidently forgotten her very existence; and she drew back with a +renewed sensation of awkward uncertainty. + +"They must have cost fifty dollars at least," said the clear, crisp +tones of Miss Kitty Chester, so near her that she started, and then +perceived, by a heap of pink flounces on the floor, that the sofa +against the wall of the ballroom, close by the door, was occupied, +though by whom she could not see without putting her head completely +out, and being seen in her turn. + +"One might really almost dance with little Smith for that," went on the +speaker. + +"Ralph Underwood says he isn't anything so bad as he looks," said the +gentler voice of Margaret's new acquaintance. + +"Good heavens! I should hope not; that would be a little too much," +laughed Kitty. + +"He is very clever, I hear, and has very good manners, considering--and +she seems such a thoroughly nice girl." + +"Why, Gladys, you are quite in earnest about it. But now, do you think +that you could ever make up your mind to be Mrs. Alcibiades?" + +"Why, of course not! but things are so different. A girl may be just as +nice a girl, and,"--she stopped as suddenly as if she were shot. +Margaret could discern the cause perfectly well; it was that Mr. Smith +was approaching the door, looking out, she had no doubt, for her, and +unconsciously returning the bows of the invisible pair. She had the +consideration to wait a few moments before she appeared, and then she +passed the sofa without a look, taking in through the back of her head, +as it were, Miss Kitty's raised eyebrows and round mouth of comic +despair, and poor Gladys's scarlet cheeks. Her own affairs were becoming +so engrossing, that it mattered little to her what other people thought +or said of them; and she crossed the floor on her partner's arm as +unconsciously as if they were alone together, and spoke to the matrons +with the ease which comes of absolute indifference. She did not mind +Mrs. Underwood's short answers, or Mrs. Thorndike Freeman's little +ungracious nod, but the long stare with which the latter lady regarded +her flowers troubled her a little. What was the matter with them? +Somehow, Mr. Smith had given her the impression of a man who counts his +sixpences, and if he had really been sending her anything very +expensive, it was flattering, though imprudent. Margaret was now +beginning to feel a personal interest in his affairs, and its growth had +been so gradual and so fostered by circumstances, that she was less shy +with him than young girls usually are in such a position. She felt quite +equal to administering a gentle scolding when she had the chance; and +when they were seated, and the music made it safe to talk +confidentially, she began with conciliation. + +"Thank you so much for these beautiful flowers." + +"Do you like the way they are put up?" + +"Oh, yes, they are perfect; but they are too handsome for me to carry. +You ought not to have sent me such splendid ones, nor spent so much upon +them. I did not have any idea what they were till I came here and +everybody--" + +"I am very sorry," said Mr. Smith, apologetically, "to have made you so +conspicuous; but really I never thought of their costing so much, or +making such a show. I wanted to send you white lilacs, because somehow +you always make me think of them; don't you remember telling me about +the lilac bushes at Royalston? And when I saw the wretched little bits +at the florist's I told them to cut some large sprays, and never thought +of asking how much they would be." Then, as Margaret's eyes grew larger +with anxiety, he went on, with an air of amusement she had seldom seen +in him, "Never mind! I guess I can stand it for once, and I won't do so +again. I'll tell you, Miss Parke, you shall choose the next flowers I +give you, if you will. Will you be my partner at the next German, and +give me a chance?" + +"I wish I could," said Margaret, "but I shall not be here then. I am +going home." + +"What--so soon?" + +"Yes, my term at the Art School will be over, and I know Cousin Susan +won't want to have me stay after that. She hates to have anyone round. +Mother thought that if I came down, Mrs. Underwood would ask me to visit +her before I went home, but she hasn't, and," with a little sigh, "I +must go. Never mind! I have had a very nice time." + +Mr. Smith seemed about to say something, but checked himself; perhaps he +might have taken it up again, but just then Ralph Underwood approached +to ask Margaret for a turn. Something in her partner's manner had set +her heart beating, and she was glad to rise and work off her excitement. +As she spun round with young Underwood, she felt that his former frigid +indifference was replaced by a sort of patronising interest, a mood that +pleased her better, for she could cope with it; and when he said, "I'm +so glad you like Al Smith, Miss Parke; he is a thorough good fellow," +she looked him full in the face, with an emphatic, "Yes, that he is," +which silenced him completely. + +The men Margaret had danced with the last time asked her again; and she +was introduced to so many more, that she was on the floor a very fair +share of the time. Her reputation as a wall-flower seemed threatened; +but it was too late, for she went home that night from her last girlish +gayety. The attentions which would have been so delightful at her first +ball were rather a bore now. They kept breaking up her talks with Mr. +Smith, making them desultory and fitful; and then she had such a hurried +parting from him at last! It was too bad! and she might not have such +another chance to see him before she left. Their talks were becoming too +absorbing to be carried on with any comfort in the street,--it would be +hateful to say good-by there. Perhaps he felt that himself, and would +not try to meet her there again. She almost hoped he would not; and yet, +as she entered the Public Garden a little later than usual the next +morning, what a bound her heart gave as she saw him, evidently waiting +for her! As he advanced to meet her, he said at once,-- + +"Miss Parke, will you walk a little way on the Common with me? There are +not so many people there, and I have something I wish very much to say +to you." + +Simple as Margaret was, it was impossible for her not to see that Mr. +Smith "meant something"; only he did not have at all the air that she +had supposed natural to the occasion. He looked neither confident nor +doubtful, but calm, and a little sad. Perhaps it was not the great +"something," after all, but an inferior "something else." She walked +along with him in silence, her own face perplexed and doubtful enough. +But when they reached the long walk across the loneliest corner of the +Common, almost deserted at this season, he said, without further +preface,-- + +"I don't think I ought to let you go home without telling you how great +a happiness your stay here has been to me. I never thought I should +enjoy anything--I mean anything of that kind--so much. It would not be +fair not to tell you so, and it would not be fair to myself either. I +must let you know how much I love you. I don't suppose there is much +chance of your returning it, but you ought to know it." + +Margaret's downcast eyes and blushes, according to the wont of girls, +might mean anything or nothing; but her eyes were brimming over with +great tears, that, in spite of all her efforts to check them, rolled +slowly over her crimson cheeks. + +"Don't, pray, feel so sorry about it," said her lover more cheerfully; +"there is no need of that. I have been very happy since I first saw +you,--happier than I ever was before. I knew it could not last long; +but I shall have the memory of it always. You have given me more +pleasure than pain, a great deal." + +For the first and last time in her life, Margaret felt a little provoked +with Mr. Smith. Was the man blind? Then, as she looked down at his face, +pale with suppressed emotion, a great wave of mingled pity and reverence +at their utmost height swept over her, and made her feel for a moment +how near human nature can come to the divine. Had he, indeed, been +blind, light must have dawned for him; though, as it was never his way +to leave things at loose ends, he had probably intended all along to say +just what he did. He stopped short, and said in tones that were now +tremulous with a rising hope,-- + +"Margaret, tell me if you can love me ever so little?" + +"How can I help it, when you have been so good to me?" Margaret +contrived to stammer out, vexed with herself that she had nothing better +to say. Her words sounded so inadequate--so foolish. + +"Oh, but you mustn't take me merely out of gratitude," said he, rather +sadly. + +"Merely out of gratitude!" cried Margaret, her tongue loosened as if by +magic, and exulting in her freedom as her words hurried over each other. +"Why, what is there better than gratitude, or what more would you want +to be loved for? If I had seen you behave to another girl as you have to +me, I might have admired and respected you more than any man I ever saw; +but I shouldn't have had the right to love you for it, as I do now. Oh!" +she went on, all radiant now with beauty and happiness, "how I wish I +could do something for you that would make you feel for one single +moment to me as I feel to you, and then you would never, never talk of +mere gratitude again! + +"Darling, forgive me--only give yourself to me, and I'll feel it all my +life." + + * * * * * + +There was no Art School for Margaret that day, nor any thought of it, as +she and Mr. Smith walked up and down the long walk again and again, +until she was frightened to find how late it was, and hurried home; but +now he proudly walked with her to the very door. They had so much to say +about the past and the future both, and it was hard to tell which was +most delightful; whether they laughingly recalled their first meeting, +or more soberly discussed their future plans. How fortunate it was, +after all, that she was going back so soon, as now Mr. Smith could +follow her in a few days to Royalston. Margaret said she must write to +mamma that night--she could not wait; and Mr. Smith said he hoped that +her parents would not want to have their engagement a very long one. Of +course he had some means besides his books on which to marry. It was +asking a great deal of her father and mother, but perhaps he need not +take her so very much away from them. Would it not be pleasant to have +their home at Royalston, where he could do a great deal of his work, and +run down to Boston when necessary? Margaret was charmed with the idea, +and said that living was so cheap there, and house rent--oh, almost +nothing. + +Margaret found Cousin Susan up and halfway through her lunch. She +apologised in much confusion, but her cousin did not seem to mind. She, +as well as Margaret, was occupied with some weighty affair of her own, +and both were silent till Jenny had carried off the lunch tray, when +both wanted to speak, but Margaret, always the quicker of the two, began +first. Might not Mr. Smith call that evening? He had been saying--of +course it could not be considered anything till her father and mother +had heard--but she thought Cousin Susan ought to know it before he +called at her house--only no one else must know a word till she had +written home. + +This rather incoherent confession was helped out by the prettiest +smiles and blushes; but Mrs. Manton showed none of an older woman's +usual prompt comprehension and pleasure in helping out a faltering +love-tale. She listened in stolid silence, the most repellent of +confidantes, and when it ended in an almost appealing cadence, she broke +out with, "Margaret Parke, I am astonished at you!" + +Margaret first started, then stared amazedly. + +"I would not have believed it if anyone had told me!" went on Mrs. +Manton. "I would never have thought that your mother's daughter could +sell herself in that barefaced way." + +"What do you mean?" + +"As if you did not know perfectly well that you were taking that--that +Smith--" she paused in vain for an epithet; but the mere name sounded +more opprobrious than any she could have selected--"for his money!" + +"What do you mean? Mr. Smith hasn't much money; he may have enough to +live on; but I can't help that." + +"Margaret, don't quibble with the truth. You know well enough that he +will have it all. Who else is there for the old man to leave it to?" + +"What old man?" + +"Why, old Smith, of course! You can't pretend you don't know who he is, +and you have been artful enough to keep it all from me! You knew if I +heard his Christian name it would all come out! I don't know what your +father and mother will say! Mrs. Champion Pryor has been calling here +to-day, and told me the whole story, and how you have been seen walking +the streets with him for hours. I would scarcely credit it." + +"His Christian name! what's that got to do with it? He can't help it!" +Margaret's first words rang out defiantly enough; but her voice faltered +on the last, as her mind made another painful plunge after vanished +memories. Cousin Susan rose, and rang the bell herself; more wonderful +still, she went out into the entry, closing the door after her while she +spoke to Jenny, and when the girl had run rapidly upstairs and down +again, returned with something in her hand. + +"I knew Jenny had some of the vile stuff," she said triumphantly; "she +was taking it last Friday, when I tried to persuade her to send for the +doctor, and be properly treated for her cough." And she thrust a large +green glass bottle under Margaret's eyes with these words on the paper +label: + + "ERIGERON ELIXIR. + + "An Unfailing cure for + + "Ague. Asthma. Bright's Disease. Bronchitis. + Catarrh. Consumption. Colds. Coughs. + Diphtheria. Dropsy. + + "(We spare our readers the remainder of the alphabet.) + + "All genuine have the name of the inventor and proprietor + blown on the bottle, thus: + + "ALCIBIADES SMITH." + +A sudden light flashed upon poor Margaret, showing her forgotten piles +of bottles on the counters of village stores, and long columns of +unheeded advertisements in the country newspapers. She stood silent and +shamefaced. + +"What will your father say?" reiterated Cousin Susan. Dr. Parke's +reputation with the general public was largely founded on a series of +letters he had contributed to a scientific journal exposing and +denouncing quack medicines. + +"I didn't know," said Margaret, helplessly, wondering that the truth +could sound so like a lie, but unable to fortify it by any asseveration. + +"Why, you must have heard about the Smiths: everybody has. They have cut +the most ridiculous figure everywhere. They came to Clifton Springs once +while I was there; and they were really too dreadful; the kind of people +you can't stay in the room with." Cousin Susan had not talked so much +for years, and began to feel that the excitement was doing her good, +which may excuse her merciless pelting of poor Margaret. "You were too +young, perhaps," she went on, "to have heard about Ossian Smith, the +oldest son, but the newspapers were full of him--of the life he led in +London and Paris, when he was a mere boy. The American minister got him +home at last, and a pretty penny old Smith had to pay to get him out of +his entanglements. He had delirium tremens, and jumped out of a window, +and killed himself, soon after--the best thing he could do. But you must +have heard of Lunetta Smith, the daughter; about her running away with +the coachman; it happened only about three or four years ago. Why, the +New York _Sun_ had two columns about it, and the _World_ four. All the +family were interviewed, your young man among the rest, and the comic +papers said the mésalliance appeared to be on the coachman's side. She +died, too, soon after; you must have heard of it." + +"No, I never did. Father never lets me read the daily papers," said +Margaret, a little proudly. + +"Well!" said Cousin Susan, with relaxing energy, "I don't often read +such things myself; but one can't help noticing them; and Mrs. Champion +Pryor has been telling me a great deal about it." + +"And did Mrs. Pryor tell you anything about my--about young Mr. Smith?" + +"Oh, she said he was always very well spoken of. He was younger than the +rest and delicate in health, and took to study; and his father had a +good deal of money in time to educate him. They say he's rather clever, +and the old man is quite proud of him; but he can't be a gentleman, +Margaret--it is not possible." + +"Yes, he can!" burst out Margaret; "he's too much of a man not to be a +gentleman, too!" + +"Well," said Cousin Susan, suddenly collapsing, "I can't talk any +longer. I have such a headache. If you have asked him to call, I suppose +he must come; but I can't see him. What's that? a box for you? more +flowers? Oh, dear, do take them away. If there is anything I cannot +stand when I have a headache, it is flowers about, and I can smell those +lilacs you carried last night all the way downstairs, and through two +closed doors." + +Poor Margaret escaped to her own room with her flowers to write her +letter, the difficulty of her task suddenly increased. Mrs. Manton threw +herself back on the sofa to nurse her headache, but found that it was of +no use, and that what she needed was fresh air. She ordered a cab, and +drove round to see Mrs. Underwood, unto whom, in strict confidence, she +freed her mind. She found some relief in the dismay her recital gave her +hearer. Ralph Underwood was slowly recovering from the fit of +disappointment in which he had wreaked his ill-temper on whoever came +near him, as a younger, badly trained child might do on the chairs and +tables; and his mother, his chief _souffre douleur_; who in her turn had +made all around her feel her own misery, was now beginning ruefully to +count up the damages, of which she felt a large share was due to the +Parkes. She had been wondering whether she could not give a little lunch +for Margaret; she could, at least, take her to the next German, and find +her some better partner than Al Smith. Nothing could have been more +disconcerting than this news. She could not with any grace do anything +for Margaret now to efface the memories of the first part of her visit, +and the Parkes must blame her doubly for the neglect which had allowed +this engagement to take place. Why, even Susan Manton put on an injured +air! + +She craved some comfort in her turn, and after keeping the secret for a +day and a night, told it in the strictest confidence to her intimate +friend, Mrs. Thorndike Freeman, whose "dropping in" was an irresistible +temptation. + +"What!" cried Mrs. Freeman, "is it that large young woman with red +cheeks, whom you brought one evening to Papanti's? I think it will be an +excellent thing; why, the Smiths can use her photograph as an +advertisement for the Elixir." + +"Yes--but then her parents--you see, she's Mary Pickering's daughter." + +"Mary Pickering has been married to a country doctor for five and twenty +years, hasn't she? You may be sure her eyes are open by this time. +Depend upon it, they would swallow Al Smith, if he were bigger than he +is. The daughter seems to have found no difficulty in the feat." + +"Well," said Mrs. Underwood, with a sigh, "perhaps I ought to be glad +that poor Al has got some respectable girl to take him for his money. I +never dreamed one would." + +"It isn't likely that he ever asked one before," said Mrs. Freeman, with +a double-edged sneer. + +The door-bell rang, and the butler ushered in Margaret, who had come to +make her farewell call. Mrs. Underwood looked at her in astonishment. +Was this the shy, blushing girl who had come from Royalston three short +months ago? With such gentle sweetness did she express her gratitude for +the elder lady's kind attentions, with such graceful dignity did she +wave aside a few awkwardly hinted apologies, above all, so regally +beautiful did she look, that Mrs. Underwood felt more than ever that she +would be called to account by the parents of such a creature. Margaret +had quite forgiven Mrs. Underwood, for, she reasoned, if that lady had +done as she ought to have done by her, she would never have had the +chance of knowing Al, a contingency too dreadful to contemplate; and her +forgiveness added to the superiority of her position. Mrs. Underwood +could only reiterate the eternal useless regret of the tempted and +fallen: "If things had not happened just when, and how, and as they +did!" She envied Mrs. Freeman, who was now in the easiest manner +possible plying the young girl with devoted attentions, with large doses +of flattery thrown in. Mrs. Freeman, meanwhile, was mentally resolving +to call on Margaret before she left town, in which case they could +hardly avoid sending her wedding-cards. She foresaw that, as two +negatives make an affirmative, Mr. and Mrs. Alcibiades Smith, Jr., might +yet be worthy of the honor of her acquaintance. + + * * * * * + +Margaret's engagement was no primrose path. It was easier for her when +her lover was away, for he wrote delightful letters, but they rarely had +one happy and undisturbed hour together. Dr. and Mrs. Parke, of course, +gave their consent to the marriage; but they did not like it, and did +not pretend to. Dr. Parke, who, as is the wont of his profession, +placed a high value on physical attractions, and who cared as little for +money as any sane man could, hardly restrained his expressions of +dislike. "What business," he growled, "had the fellow to ask her?" Mrs. +Parke, while trying hard to keep her husband in order, was cold and +constrained herself. Being a woman, she thought less of looks, and had +learned in her married life to appreciate the value of money. She would +have liked Margaret to make a good match; but here was more money by +twenty times than she would have asked, had it only been offered by a +lover more worthy of her beautiful daughter! And yet, if Margaret would +only have been open with her! If she would have frankly said that she +was tired of being poor, and could not forego the opportunity of +marrying a rich man, who was a good sort of man enough, Mrs. Parke could +have understood, and pitied, and forgiven; but to see her put on such an +affectation of attachment for him drove her mother nearly wild. Why, she +acted as if she were more in love than he was! + +The boys had been duly respectful on hearing that their sister's +betrothed was a "Harvard man," but grew contemptuous when they found him +so unfit for athletics. Relations and friends, and acquaintances of +every degree, believed, and still believe, and always will believe, +that Margaret's was one of the most mercenary of mercenary marriages. +Some blamed her parents for allowing it; others thought that their +opposition was feigned, and that they were really forcing poor Margaret +into it. + +The two younger children, Harry and Winnie, at once adopted their new +brother, and stood up stanchly for him on all occasions, and their +sister was eternally grateful to them for it. Her only other support +came, of all the people in the world, from Ralph Underwood. He could not +be best man at the wedding, as he was going abroad with his mother, who +was sadly run down and needed change; but he wrote Margaret a +straightforward, manly letter, in which he said that he trusted, +unworthy as he was, she would admit him to her friendship for Al's sake. +He spoke of all he owed to his friend in such a way that Margaret +perceived that more had passed in their college days than she ever had +been or ever should be told. + +The family discomfort came to a climax on the day before the wedding, +when the great Alcibiades Smith himself and his wife made their +appearance at Royalston. They stayed at the hotel with their suite, but +spent the evening with the Parkes to make the acquaintance of their new +connections. Old Mr. Smith pronounced Margaret "a bouncer." He had +always known, he said, that Al would get some kind of a wife, but never +thought it would be such a stunner as this one. It naturally fell to him +to be entertained by Dr. Parke, or rather to entertain him, which he did +by relating the whole history of the Elixir, from its first invention to +the number of million bottles that were put up the last year, winding up +every period with, "As you're a medical man yourself, sir." Mrs. Smith +was quieter, and though well pleased, a little awe-struck, as her French +maid, her authority and terror, had told her, after Mrs. Parke's and +Margaret's brief call at the hotel that afternoon, that these were, +evidently, "_dames très comme il faut_." She poured into Mrs. Parke's +ear, in a corner, the tale of all Al's early illnesses, and the various +treatments he had had for them, till her hearer no longer wondered at +their being so little of him; the wonder was, that there was anything +left at all. Then, à propos of marriages, she grew confidential and +almost tearful about their distresses in the case of their daughter +"Luny." She did think Mr. Smith a little to blame for poor Luny's +runaway match. There was an Italian count whom she liked, but her father +could not be induced to pay his debts, and "a girl must marry somebody, +you know," she wound up, with a look at Margaret. + +Margaret, in after years, could appreciate the comedy of the situation. +It is no wonder if it seemed to her at the time the most gloomily +tragical that perverse ingenuity could devise. Al's manner to his +parents was perfect. He was very silent; not more, perhaps, than he +always was in a room full, but she thought he looked fagged and tired, +and wondered how he could bear it. She longed intensely to say something +sympathetic to him; but, like most girls on the eve of their marriage, +she felt overpowered with shyness. If this dreadful evening ever came to +an end, and they were ever married, then she would tell him, once for +all, that she loved him all the better for all and everything that he +had to bear. + + * * * * * + +"They will spoil the whole effect," said Mrs. Parke, despondently, as +she put the last careful touches to Margaret's wedding-dress. It was a +very simple but becoming one of rich plain silk, with a little lace, and +the pearl daisies with diamond dewdrops, sent by the bridegroom, +accorded with it well. But Mr. Smith, senior, had begged that his gift, +or part of it, should be worn on the occasion, and Mrs. Parke now slowly +opened a velvet box, in which lay a crescent and a cross. Neither she +nor Margaret was accustomed to estimate the price of diamonds, and had +they been, they would have seen that these were far beyond their mark. + +"They don't go with the dress," repeated Mrs. Parke, doubtfully. + +"Oh, never mind; to please Mr. Smith," said Margaret, carelessly, as she +bent forward to allow her mother to clasp round her neck the slender row +of stones that held the cross, and to stick the long pins of the +crescent with dexterous hand through the gathered tulle, of the veil and +the thick wavy bands of hair beneath it. + +As she drew herself up to her full height again before the mirror, it +seemed as if the June day outside had taken on the form of a mortal +girl. The gold and blue of the heavens, the pink and white of the +blossoming fields, whose luminous tints rested so softly on hair and +eyes, on cheek and brow, were reflected and intensified in the rainbow +rays of light that blazed on her head and at her throat. It was not in +human nature not to look with one touch of pride and pleasure at the +vision in the glass. But the sight of another face behind hers made her +turn quickly round, with, "O mamma! mamma! what is it?" + +"Nothing, my dear; it's a very magnificent present; only I thought--" + +"Mamma! surely you don't think I care for such things! you don't, you +can't think I am the least bit influenced by them in marrying Al. O +mamma! don't, don't look at me so!" + +"Never mind, my dear. We will not talk about it now. It is too late for +me to say anything, I know, and I am very foolish." + +"Mother!" cried the girl, piteously; "you _must_ believe me! You _know_ +that when Al asked me to marry him, and I said I would, I had no idea, +not the slightest idea, that he had a penny in the world!" + +"Hush, Margaret! hush, my dear! you are excited, and so am I. Don't say +anything you may wish afterwards that you had not. God bless you, and +make you a happy woman, and a good wife; but don't begin your married +life with a--" Mrs. Parke choked down the word with a great sob, and +hastily left the room. It was high noon, and she had not yet put on her +own array. + +Margaret stood stiff and blind with horror. Had she really known, then? +Had her hand been bought? Then she remembered her own innocence when she +told her love. Not so proudly, not so freely, not so gladly, could it +ever have been told to the millionaire's son. A rush of self-pity came +over her, softening the indignant throbbing of her heart, and opening +the fountains of tears. She was at the point where a woman must have a +good cry, or go mad,--but where could she give way? Not here, where +anyone might come in. Indeed, there was Winnie's voice at the door of +the nursery, eager to show her bridesmaid's toilette. Margaret snatched +up two white shawls which lay ready on the sofa, caught up the heavy +train of her gown in one hand, and flew down the front staircase like a +hunted swan, through the library to the sacred room beyond--her father's +study, now, as she well knew, deserted, while its owner was above, +reluctantly dressing for the festivity. She pushed the only chair +forward to the table, threw one shawl over it, and laying the other on +the table itself, sat down, and carefully bending her head down over her +folded arms, so as not to crush her veil by a feather's touch, let loose +the flood-gates. In a moment she was crying as only a healthy girl who +seldom cries can, when she once gives up to it. + +Someone spoke to her; she never heard it. Someone touched her; she never +felt it. It was only when a voice repeated, "Why, Margaret, dearest, +what is the matter?" that she checked herself with a mighty effort, +swallowed her sobs, and still holding her handkerchief over her +tear-stained cheeks and quivering mouth, turned round to find herself +face to face with her bridegroom, who having stopped to take up his +best man, Alick Parke, was waiting till that young man tied his sixth +necktie. She well knew that a lover who finds his betrothed crying her +eyes out half an hour before the wedding has a prescriptive right to be +both angry and jealous; but he looked neither; only a little anxious and +troubled. + +"Darling, has anything happened?" + +"No--not exactly; that is--O Al! they won't believe me!" + +"They! who?" + +"Not one single one of them. Not mother, even mother! I thought she +would--but she doesn't." + +"Does not what?" + +"She does not believe," said Margaret, trying to steady her voice, "that +when you asked me to marry you, and I said I would, that I did not know +you were rich. I told her, but she won't believe me." + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, quietly, though with a little flush on his face; +"it's very natural. I don't blame her." + +"Al!" cried Margaret, seizing both his hands; "O Al, you don't--you +do--_you_ believe me, don't you, Al? _don't_ you?" + +"Of course I do." + + + + +[Illustration] + +POOR MR. PONSONBY + + +On a bright, windy morning in March, Miss Emmeline Freeman threw open +the gate of her mother's little front garden on Walnut Street, +Brookline, slammed it behind her with one turn of her wrist, marched +with an emphatic tapping of boot-heels up the path between the +crocus-beds to the front door, threw that open, and rushed into the +drawing-room, where she paused for breath, and began before she found +it: + +"O mamma! O Aunt Sophia! O Bessie! What do you think? Lily Carey--you +would never guess--Lily Carey--I was never so surprised in my life--Lily +Carey is engaged!" + +Mrs. Freeman laid down her pen by the side of her column of figures, +losing her account for the seventh time; Miss Sophia Morgan paused in +the silk stocking she was knitting, just as she was beginning to narrow; +and Bessie Freeman dropped her brush full of colour on to the panel she +was finishing, while all three exclaimed with one voice, "To whom?" + +"That is the queer part of it. You will never guess. Indeed, how should +you?" + +"To whom?" repeated the chorus, with a unanimity and precision that +would have been creditable to the stage, and with the due accent of +impatience on the important word. + +"To no one you ever would have dreamed of; indeed, you never heard of +him--a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby. It is a most romantic thing. He is an +Englishman, very good family and handsome and all that, but not much +money. That is why it has been kept quiet so long." + +"So long? How long?" chimed in the trio, still in unison. + +"Why, for three years and more. Lily met him in New York that time she +was there in the summer, you know, when her father was ill at the Fifth +Avenue Hotel. But Mr. Carey would never let it be called an engagement +till now." + +"Did Lily tell you all this?" asked Bessie. + +"No, Ada Thorne was telling everyone about it at the lunch party. She +heard it from Lily." + +"I think Lily might have told us herself." + +"She said she did not mean to write to anyone, it has been going on so +long, and her prospects were so uncertain; she did not care to have any +formal announcement, but just to have her friends hear of it gradually. +But she sent you and me very kind messages, Bessie, and she wants you to +take the O'Flanigans--that's her district family, you know--and me to +take her Sunday-school class. She says she really must have her Sundays +now to write to Mr. Ponsonby, poor fellow! She has been obliged to +scribble to him at any odd moment she could, and he is so far off." + +"Where is he--in England?" + +"Oh, dear, no! In Australia. He owns an immense sheep-farm in West +Australia. He belongs to a very good family; but he was born on the +continent, and has no near relations in England, and has rather knocked +about the world for a good many years. He had not very good luck in +Australia at first, but now things look better there, and he may be able +to come over here this summer, and if he does they will perhaps be +married before he goes back. Mr. Carey won't hear it spoken of now, but +Ada says she has no doubt he will give in when it comes to the point. He +never refuses Lily anything, and if the young man really comes he won't +have the heart to send him back alone, for Ada says he must be +fascinating." + +"Lily seems to have laid her plans very judiciously," said Miss Morgan, +"and if she wishes them generally understood, she does well to confide +them to Ada Thorne." + +"And she has been engaged for years!" burst out Bessie, whose mental +operations had meanwhile been going ahead of the rest; "why then--then +there could never have been anything between her and Jack Allston!" + +"Certainly not," replied Emmeline, confidently. + +"Very likely he knew it all the time," said Bessie. + +"Or she may have refused him," said Mrs. Freeman. + +"What is Miss Thorne's version?" said Aunt Sophia. "I shall stand by +that whatever it is. Considering the extent of that young woman's +information, I am perpetually surprised by its accuracy." + +"Ada thinks Lily never let it come to a proposal, but probably let Jack +see from the beginning that it would be useless, and that is why they +were on such friendly terms." + +"Well!" said Aunt Sophia, "I am always glad to think better of my +fellow-creatures. I always thought Jack Allston a fool for marrying as +he did if he could have had Lily, and now I only think him half a one, +since he couldn't. I am only afraid the folly is on poor Lily's side. +However, we must all fulfil our destiny, and I always said she was born +to become the heroine of a domestic drama, at least." + +"Oh, here's Bob!" said Emmeline, as her elder brother's entrance broke +in upon the conversation. "Bob, who do you think is engaged?" + +"You have lost your chance of telling, Emmie," replied the young man, +with a careful carelessness of manner; "I have just had the pleasure of +walking from the village with Ada Thorne." + +"Really, it is too bad of Ada," said Emmeline, as she adjusted her hat +at the glass. "She will not leave me one person to tell by to-morrow. +Bessie, I think as long as we are going to five o'clock tea at the +Pattersons', and I have all my things on, I will set out now and make +some calls on the way. You might dress and come after me. I will be at +Nina Turner's. Mamma and Aunt Sophy can"--but her voice was an +indistinct buzz in her brother's ears, as he stood looking blankly out +of the window at the bright crocus tufts. He had never had any intention +of proposing to Lily Carey himself, and he knew that if he had she would +never have accepted him, yet somehow a shadow had crept over the day +that was so bright before. + +Lily Carey was at that time a very conspicuous figure in Boston society; +that is, in the little circle of young people who went to all the "best" +balls and assemblies. She was also well known in some that were less +select, for the Careys had too assured a position to be exclusive, and +were too good-natured to be fashionable, so that she knew the whole +world and the whole world knew her. To be exact, she was acquainted with +about one five-hundredth part of the inhabitants of Boston and vicinity, +was known by sight to about twice as many, and by name to as many more, +with acquaintance also in such other cities and villages as had +sufficiently advanced in civilisation to have a "set" which knew the +Boston "set." She stood out prominently from the usual dead level of +monotonous prettiness which is the rule in American ballrooms and +gives piquant plainness so many advantages. Her nymph-like figure, +dressed very likely in a last-year's gown of no particular fashion--for +the Careys were of that Boston _monde_ which systematically +under-dresses--made the other girls look small and pinched and +doll-like; her towering head, crowned with a great careless roll of her +bright chestnut hair, made theirs look like barbers' dummies; and her +brilliant colouring made one half of them show dull and dingy, the other +faded and washed out. These advantages were not always appreciated as +such--by no means; unusual beauty, like unusual genius, may fly over the +heads of the uneducated; and it was the current opinion among the young +ladies who only knew her by sight, and their admirers, that "Miss Carey +had no style." Among her own acquaintance she reigned supreme. To have +been in love with Lily Carey was regarded by every youth of quality as a +necessary part of the curriculum of Harvard University; so much so that +it was not at all detrimental to their future matrimonial prospects. Her +old lovers, like her left-over partners, were always at the service of +her whole coterie of adoring intimate friends. If she had no new ideas, +these not being such common articles as is usually supposed, no one +could more cleverly seize upon and deftly adapt some stray old one. She +could write plays when none could be found to suit, and act half the +parts, and coach the other actors; she made her mother give new kinds of +parties, where all the new-old dances and games were brought to life +again; and she set the little fleeting fashions of the day that never +get into the fashion-books, to which, indeed, her dress might happen or +not to correspond; but the exact angle at which she set on her hat, and +the exact knot in which she tied her sash, and the exact spot where she +stuck the rose in her bosom, were subjects of painstaking study, and +objects of generally unsuccessful imitation to the rest of womankind. + +Why Lily Carey at one and twenty was not married, or even engaged, was a +mystery; but for four years she had been supposed by that whole world +of which we have spoken to be destined for Jack Allston. Jack was young, +handsome, rich, of good family, and so rising in his profession, the +law, that no one could suppose he lacked brains, though in general +matters they were not so evident. For four years he had skated with +Lily, danced with her, sung with her, ridden, if not driven, with her, +sent her flowers, and scarcely paid a single attention of the sort to +any other girl; and Lily had danced, sung, ridden, skated with him, at +least twice as often as with any other man. Jack had had the _entrée_ of +the Carey house, where old family friendship had admitted him from +boyhood, almost as if he were another son, and was made far more useful +than sons generally allow themselves to be made. He came to all parties +early and stayed late, danced with all the wall-flowers and waited upon +all the grandmothers and aunts, and prompted and drew up the curtain, +and took all the "super" parts at their theatricals. He was "Jack" to +all of them, from Papa Carey down to Muriel of four years old. The Carey +family, if hints were dropped, disclaimed so smilingly that everyone was +convinced that they knew all about it, and that Mrs. Carey, a most +careful mother, who spent so much time in acting chaperon to her girls +that she saw but little of them, would never have allowed it to go so +far unless there were something in it. Why this something was not +announced was a mystery. At first many reasons were assigned by those +who must have reasons for other people's actions, all very sufficient: +Lily too young, Jack not through the law-school, the Allstons in +mourning, etc., etc.; but as one after another exhibited its futility, +and new ones were less readily discovered, the subject was discussed in +less amiable mood by tantalised expectants, and the ominous sentence was +even murmured, "If they are not engaged they ought to be." + +On October 17, 1887, Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé stock was quoted at +90-1/2, and the engagement of Mr. John Somerset Allston to Miss Julia +Henrietta Bradstreet Noble was announced with all the formality of which +Boston is capable on such occasions. It can hardly be said which piece +of news created the greater sensation; but many a paterfamilias who had +dragged himself home sick at heart from State Street found his family so +engrossed in their own private morsel of intelligence that his, with all +its consequences of no new bonnets and no Bar Harbor next summer, was +robbed of its sting. All was done according to the most established +etiquette. Jack Allston had told all the men at his lunch club, and a +hundred notes from Miss Noble to her friends and relatives, which she +had sat up late for the two preceding nights to write, had been received +by the morning post. Jack had sat up later than she had, but only one +single note had been the product of his vigils. + +Unmixed surprise was the first sensation excited as the news spread. It +was astonishing that Jack Allston should be engaged to any girl but Lily +Carey, and it was not much less so that he should be engaged to Miss +Noble. She was a little older than he was, an only child, and an orphan. +Her family was good, her connections high, and her fortune just large +enough for her to live upon with their help. She was of course invited +everywhere, and received the attentions demanded by politeness; but even +politeness had begun to feel that it had done enough for her, and that +she should perform the social _hara-kiri_ that unmarried women are +expected to make at a certain age. She was very plain and had very +little to say for herself. Her relatives could say nothing for her +except that she was a "nice, sensible girl," a dictum expressed with +more energy after her engagement to Jack Allston, when some of the more +daring even discovered that she was "distinguished looking." The men had +always, from her silence, had a vague opinion that she was stupid, but +amiable; the other girls were doubtful on both these points, certain +double-edged speeches forcibly recurring to their memory. Their doubts +resolved into certainties after her engagement was announced, when she +became so very unbearable that they could only, with the Spartan +patience shown by young women on such occasions, hold their tongues and +hope that it might be a short one. Their sole relief was in discussing +the question as to whether Jack Allston had thrown over Lily, or whether +she had refused him. Jack was sheepish and shy at being congratulated; +Lily was bright and smiling, and in even higher spirits than usual; Miss +Noble spoke very unpleasantly to and of Lily whenever she had the +chance; but all these points of conduct might and very likely would be +the same under either supposition. Parties were pretty evenly balanced, +and the wedding was over before they had drifted to any final +conclusion. As the season went on Lily looked rather worn and fagged, +which gave the supporters of the first hypothesis some ground; but when, +in the spring, her own engagement came out, it supplied a sufficient +reason, and gave a triumphant and clinching argument to the advocates of +the second. She looked happy enough then, though her own family gave but +a doubtful sympathy. Mr. Carey refused to say anything further than that +he hoped Lily knew her own mind; she must decide for herself. Mrs. +Carey looked sad, and changed the subject, saying there was no need of +saying anything about it at present; she was sorry that it was so widely +known and talked about. The younger Carey girls, Susan and Eleanor, +openly declared that they hoped it would never come to anything. Poor +Mr. Ponsonby! His picture was very handsome, and the parts of his +letters they had heard were very nice, but he did not seem likely to get +on in the world, and he could not expect Lily to wait forever. "Would +you like to see his picture?--an amateur one, taken by a friend; and +Lily says it does not do him justice." + +The photograph won the hearts of all the female friends of the family, +who saw it in confidence, and increased their desire to see the +original. But Mr. Ponsonby was not able, as had been expected, to come +over in the summer. Violent rains and consequent floods in the +Australian sheep-runs inflicted so much damage upon his stock that the +marriage was again postponed, at least for a year, in which time he +hoped to get things on a better basis. Lily kept up her spirits bravely. +She did not go to Mount Desert with her mother and sisters, but stayed +at home, wrote her letters, hemstitched her linen, declaring that she +was glad of the time to get up a proper outfit, and went to bed early, +keeping a pleasant home for her father and the boys as they went and +came, to their huge satisfaction, and gaining in bloom and freshness; so +that she was in fine condition in the fall to nurse her mother through a +low fever caught at a Bar Harbor hotel, also to wait upon Susan, nervous +and worn down with late hours and perpetual racket, and Eleanor, laid up +with a sprained ankle from an overturn in a buckboard. + +Eleanor, though not yet eighteen, was to come out next winter, Lily +declaring that she should give up balls--what was the use when one was +engaged? She stayed at home and saw that her sisters were kept in +ball-gowns and gloves, no light task, taking the part of Cinderella _con +amore_. She certainly looked younger than Susan at least, who since she +had taken up the Harvard Annex course, besides going out, began to grow +worn and thin. + +One February morning Eleanor's voice rose above the usual babble at the +Carey breakfast-table. + +"Can't I go, mamma?" + +"Where, dear?" + +"Why, to the Racket Club german at Eliot Hall, next Tuesday. It's going +to be so nice, you know, only fifty couples, and we ought to answer +directly; and I have just had notes from Harry Foster and Julian Jervis +asking me for it." + +"And which shall you dance with?" asked Lily. + +"Why, Harry, of course." + +"I would not have any _of course_ about it," said Lily, rather sharply. +Harry Foster was now repeating Jack Allston's late role in the Carey +family, with Eleanor for his ostensible object. "My advice is, dance +with Julian; and I suppose I must see that your pink net is in order, if +Miss Macalister cannot be induced to hurry up your new lilac." + +"Shall we not go, mamma?" + +"Why, mamma, how can we?" broke in Susan, who had her own game in +another quarter. "It's the 'Old Men of Menottomy' night, and we missed +the last, you know." + +"Those old Cambridge parties are the dullest affairs going," said +Eleanor; "I'd rather stay at home than go to them." + +"That is very ungrateful of you," said Lily, laughing, "when I gave up +my place in the 'Misses Carey' to you, for of course I don't go to +either." + +"Can't I go to Eliot Hall with Roland, mamma? He is asked, and Mrs. +Thorne is a patroness; she will chaperon me after I get there." + +"Roland will want to go right back to Cambridge, I know--the middle of +the week and everything! He'll be late enough without coming here." + +"Then can't I take Margaret, and depend on Mrs. Thorne?" went on +Eleanor, with the persistence of the youngest pet. "Half the girls go +with their maids that way." + +"Oh, I don't know, my dear," said poor Mrs. Carey, looking helplessly +from Eleanor, flushed and eager, to Susan, silent, but with a tightly +shut look on her pretty mouth, that betokened no sign of yielding. "I +never liked it--in a hired carriage--and you can't expect _me_ to go +over the Cambridge bridges without James. And I hate asking Mrs. Thorne +anything, she always makes such a favour of it, and the less trouble it +is the more fuss she gets up about it. Do you and Susan settle it +somehow between you, and let me know when it is decided." + +"Let me go with Eleanor, mamma," said Lily. "Mrs. Freeman will probably +go with Emmeline and Bessie, and she will let me sit with her. I will +wear my old black silk and look the chaperon all over--as good a one, I +will wager, as any there. It will be good fun to act the part, and I +have been engaged so long that I should think I might really begin to +appear in it." + +Mr. Carey was heard to growl, as he pushed back his chair and threw his +pile of newspapers on to the floor, that he wished Lily would stop that +nonsensical talk about her engagement once for all; but the girls did +not pause in their chatter, and Mrs. Carey was too much relieved to +argue the point. + +"Only tell me what to do and I will do it," was this poor lady's +favourite form of speech. She set off with a clear conscience on Tuesday +evening with Susan for the assembly at Cambridge, where a promisingly +learned post-graduate of good fortune and family was wont to unbend +himself by sitting out the dances and explaining the theory of evolution +to Miss Susan Carey, who was as mildly scientific as was considered +proper for a young lady of her position. Lily accompanied Eleanor to +more frivolous spheres, where chaperonage was an easier if less exciting +task; for once having touched up her sister's dress in the ante-room, +and handed her over to Julian Jervis, she bade her farewell for the +evening, and herself took the arm of Harry Foster, who, gloomily cynical +at the sight of Eleanor, radiant in her new lilac, with another partner, +had hardly a word to say as he settled her on a bench on the raised +platform where the chaperons congregated, except to ask her sulkily if +she would not "take a turn," which she declined without mincing matters, +and took the only seat left, next to Mrs. Jack Allston, who was +matronising a cousin. + +"What, Lily! you here?" asked Mrs. Thorne. + +"Oh, yes; mamma has gone to Cambridge with Susan, and said I might come +over with Eleanor, and she was sure Mrs. Freeman,"--with a smile at that +lady--"would look after us if we needed it." + +"With the greatest pleasure," said Miss Morgan, who sat by her sister. +"Here have Elizabeth and I both come to take care of our girls, as +half-a-dozen elders sometimes hang on to one child at a circus. We both +of us had set our hearts on seeing _this_ german and would not give up, +so you see there is an extra chaperon at your service." + +"Doesn't your mother find it very troublesome to have three girls out at +once?" asked Mrs. Allston of Lily, bluntly. + +"Hardly three; I am not out this winter, you know." + +"I don't see any need of staying in because one is engaged, unless, +indeed, it were a very short one, like mine." + +Mrs. Allston cast a rapid and deprecatory glance at the "old black +silk," which had seen its best days, and then a still swifter one at her +own gown, from Worth, but so unbecoming to her that it was easy for Lily +to smile serenely back, though her heart sank within her at her +prospects for the evening. + +At the close of the first figure of the german, a slight flutter seemed +to run through the crowd, tending toward the entrance. + +"Who is that standing in the doorway--just come in?" asked Lily, in the +very lowest tone, of Miss Morgan. Miss Morgan looked, shook her head +decidedly, and then passed the inquiry on to Mrs. Thorne, who hesitated +and hemmed. + +"He spoke to me when he first came--but--I really don't recollect--it +must be Mr.--Mr.----" + +"Arend Van Voorst," crushingly put in Mrs. Allston, with somewhat the +effect of a garden-roller. Both of the older ladies looked interested. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Thorne, "I sent him a card when I heard he was in +Boston. I have not seen him--at least since he was very young--but his +mother--of course I know Mrs. Van Voorst--a little." + +"I don't know them at all," said Miss Morgan; "but if that's young Van +Voorst, he is better looking than there is any occasion for." + +"He was a classmate and intimate friend of Jack's," said Mrs. Allston, +loftily. + +"I never saw him before," said Lily, incautiously. + +"He only went out in a very small set in Boston," said Mrs. Allston. "I +met him often, of course." + +"You were too young, Lily, to meet any one when he was in college," said +Miss Morgan, who liked "putting down Julia Allston." + +"It's too bad the girls are all engaged," said the simple-minded Mrs. +Freeman; "he won't have any partner." + +"_He_ wouldn't dance!" said Julia, too tough to feel Miss Morgan's light +touches. "Very likely, as you asked him, Mrs. Thorne, he may feel that +he _must_ take a turn with Ada; and when he knows that Kitty Bradstreet +is with me, very likely he will ask her out of compliment to me. He will +hardly ask me to dance at such a very young party as this; I don't see +any of the young married set here but myself." + +Mr. Van Voorst stood quietly in the doorway, hardly appearing to notice +anything, but when Ada Thorne's partner was called out, and she was left +sitting alone, he walked across the room and sat down by her. He did not +ask her to dance, but it was perhaps as great an honour to have the Van +Voorst of New York sitting by her, holding her bouquet and bending over +her in an attitude of devotion; and if what he said did not flatter her +vanity, it touched another sentiment equally strong in Ada even at that +early period of life. + +"Who is that girl in black, sitting with the chaperons?" + +"Oh, that is Lily Carey." + +"Why is she there?" + +"She is chaperoning Eleanor, her youngest sister, that girl in lilac who +is on the floor now. They look alike, don't they?" + +"Why, she is not married?" + +"No, only engaged. She has been engaged a great while, and never goes to +balls or anything now--only she came here with Eleanor because Mrs. +Carey wanted to go to Cambridge with Susan. There are three of the +Careys out; it must be a dreadful bother, don't you think so?" + +"To whom is she engaged?" + +"To a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby--an Englishman settled in Australia +somewhere. They were to have been married last summer, but he had +business losses. She is perfectly devoted to him. He wrote and offered +to release her, but she would not hear of it. She was very much admired; +don't you think her pretty?" + +"Will you introduce me to Miss Carey? I see Mr. Freeman is coming to ask +you for a turn--will you be so kind as to present me first?" + +There was a sort of cool determination about this young man which Ada, +or any other girl, would have found it hard to resist. She did as she +was bid, not ill-pleased at the general stir she excited as she crossed +the floor with her two satellites and walked up the platform steps. + +"Mrs. Freeman, Miss Morgan, allow me to introduce Mr. Van Voorst. Miss +Carey, Mr. Van Voorst;--I think you know my mother and Mrs. Allston." +And having touched off her train, she whirled away with Robert Freeman, +her observation still on the alert. + +Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Van Voorst exchanged civilities; Mrs. Allston said +Jack was coming soon and would be glad to see him, making room for him +at her side. + +"No, thank you, Mrs. Allston. Miss Carey, may I have the pleasure of a +turn with you?" + +"Oh, Mr. Van Voorst! You are quite out of rule--tempting away our +chaperons--you should ask some of the young ladies; we did not come here +to dance." + +"I shall not dare to ask you, then, Mrs. Allston," he said, smiling, and +offered his arm without another word to Lily. She rose without looking +at him, with a quick furtive motion pulled off her left-hand glove--the +right was off already--got out of the crowd about her and down the +steps, she hardly knew how, and in a moment his arm was around her and +they were floating down the long hall. The quartette left behind looked +rather blankly at each other. + +"Well," said Mrs. Thorne at last, "it really is too bad for Lily Carey +to come and say she did not mean to dance, and then walk off with Arend +Van Voorst, who has not asked another girl here----" + +"And in that old gown!" chimed in Mrs. Allston. + +"It is certainly very unkind in her to look so well in an old gown," +said Aunt Sophia; "it is a dangerous precedent." + +"Oh, auntie!" said Emmeline, who had come up to have her dress adjusted. +"Poor Lily! She has been so very quiet all the winter, never going to +anything, it would be too bad if she could not have a little pleasure." + +"Very kind in you, my dear; but I don't see the force of your 'poor +Lily.' I shall reserve my pity for poor Mr. Ponsonby--he needs it most." + +It was long since Lily had danced, and as for Mr. Van Voorst, he was, as +we have seen, supposed to be above it on so youthful an occasion; but +perhaps it was this that gave such a zest, as if they were boy and girl +together, to the pleasure of harmonious motion. Round and round again +they went, till the dancing ranks grew thinner, and just as the music +gave signs of drawing to a close, they passed, drawing all eyes, by the +doorway. The line of men looking on opened and closed behind them. They +had actually gone out to sit on the stairs, leaving a fruitful topic +behind them for the buzz of talk between the figures. Eleanor Carey, a +pretty girl, and not unlike her sister, bloomed out with added +importance from her connection with one who might turn out to be the +heroine of a drawing-room scandal. + +Meanwhile the two who were the theme of comment sat silent under the +palms and ferns. No one knew better when to speak or not to speak than +Lily, and her companion was looking at her with a curiously steady and +absorbed gaze, to which any words would have been an interruption. It +was not "the old black silk" which attracted his attention, except, +perhaps, so far as it formed a background for the beautiful hands that +lay folded together on her lap, too carelessly for coquetry. No such +motive had influenced Lily when she had pulled off her gloves; it was +only that they were not fresh enough to bear close scrutiny; but their +absence showed conspicuous on the third finger of her left hand her only +ring, a heavy one of rough beaten gold with an odd-looking dark-red +stone in it. Not the flutter of a finger betrayed any consciousness as +his eye lingered on it; but as he looked abruptly up he caught a glance +from under her eyelashes which showed that she had on her part been +looking at him. An irresistible flash of merriment was reflected back +from face to face. + +"What did you say?" she asked. + +"I--I beg your pardon, I thought you said something." + +Both laughed like a couple of children; then he rose and offered his arm +again, and they turned back to the ballroom. + +"Good evening, Jack," said Miss Lily brightly, holding out her hand to +Mr. Allston, who had just come in, and was standing in the doorway. +Jack, taken by surprise, as we all are by the sudden appearance of two +people together whom we have never associated in our minds, looked shy +and confused, but made a gallant effort to rally, and got through the +proper civilities well enough, till just as the couple were again +whirling into the ranks, he spoiled it all by asking with an awkward +stammer in his voice: + +"How's--how's Mr. Ponsonby?" + +"Very well, when I last heard," Lily flung back over her shoulder, in +her clearest tone and with a laugh, soft, but heard by both men. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked her partner. + +"At the recollection of my copy-book--was not yours amusing?" + +"I dare say it was, if it was the same as yours." + +"Oh, they are all alike. What I was thinking of was the page with 'Evil +communications corrupt good manners.'" + +"Yes--Jack was a very good fellow when we were in college +together--but----" + +But "what" was left unsaid. On and on they went, and only stopped with +the music. Lily, having broken the ice, was besieged by every man in the +room for a turn. One or two she did favour with a very short one, but it +was Mr. Van Voorst to whom she gave every other one, and those the +longest, and with whom she walked between the figures; and finally it +was Mr. Van Voorst who took her down to supper. Eleanor and she had all +the best men in the room crowding round them. + +"Come and sit with us, Emmie," she asked, as Emmeline Freeman passed +with her partner; and Emmeline came, half frightened at finding herself +in the midst of what seemed to her a chapter from a novel. Never had the +even tenor of her social experiences,--and they were of as unvarying and +business-like a nature as the "day's work" of humbler maidens--been +disturbed by such an upheaval of fixed ideas; one of which was that Lily +Carey could do no wrong, and another, that there was something "fast" +and improper in having more than one man waiting upon you at a time. + +"Do you mind going now, Eleanor?" asked Lily of her sister, as the +crowd surged back to the ballroom. Eleanor looked rather blank at the +thought of missing the after-supper dance, and such an after-supper +dance; no mamma to get sleepy on the platform; no old James waiting out +in the cold to lay up rheumatism for the future and to look respectfully +reproachful at "Miss Ellis"; no horses whose wrongs might excite papa's +wrath; nothing but that wretched impersonal slave, "a man from the +livery stable" and his automatic beasts. But the Careys were a very +amiable family, the one who spoke first generally getting her own way. +The after-supper dance at the Racket Club german was rather a falling +off from the brilliancy at the commencement, as Arend Van Voorst left +after putting his partner into her carriage, and Julian Jervis and +others of the men thought it the thing to follow his example. + +Two days after the german, "Richards's Pond," set in snowy shores, was +hard and blue as steel under a cloudless sky, while a delicious breath +of spring in the air gave warning that this was but for a day. The rare +union of perfect comfort and the fascination that comes of transient +pleasure irresistibly called out the skaters, and "everybody" was there; +that is, about fifty young men and women were disporting themselves on +the pond, and one or two ladies stood on the shore looking on. Miss +Morgan, who was always willing to chaperon any number of girls to any +amusement, stood warmly wrapped up in her fur-lined cloak and +snow-boots, talking to a Mrs. Rhodes, a mild little new-comer in +Brookline, who had come with her girls, who did not know many people, +and whom she now had the satisfaction of seeing happily mingled with the +proper "set"; for Eleanor Carey, who had good-naturedly asked them to +come, had introduced them to some of the extra young men, of whom there +were plenty; and that there might be no lack of excitement, Mr. Van +Voorst and Miss Lily Carey were to be seen skating together, with hardly +a word or a look for anyone else--a sight worth seeing. + +No record exists of the skating of the goddess Diana, but had she +skated, Lily might have served as her model. Just so might she have +swept over the ice with mazy motion, ever and ever throwing herself off +her balance, just as surely to regain it. As for Arend Van Voorst, he +skated like Harold Hardrada, of whose performances in that line we have +not been left in ignorance. "It must be his Dutch blood," commented Miss +Morgan. + +Ada Thorne, meanwhile, was skating contentedly enough under the escort +of the lion second in degree--Prescott Avery, just returned from his +journey round the world, about which he had written a magazine article, +and was understood to be projecting a book. His thin but well-preserved +flaxen locks, whitey-brown moustache, and little piping voice were +unchanged by tropic heats or Alpine snows, but he had gained in +consequence and, though mild and unassuming, felt it. He had always been +in the habit of entertaining his fair friends with a number of pretty +tales drawn from his varied social experiences, and had acquired a fresh +stock of very exciting ones in his travels. But his present hearer's +attention was wandering, and her smiles unmeaning, and in the very midst +of a most interesting narrative about his encounter with an angry llama, +she put an aimless question that showed utter ignorance whether it took +place in China or Peru. Prescott, always amiable, gulped down his +mortification with the aid of a cough, and then followed the lady's gaze +to where the distant flash of a scarlet toque might be seen through the +thin, leafless bushes on a low spur of land. + +"That is Lily Carey, is it not?" he asked. "How very handsome she is +looking to-day! She has grown even more beautiful than when I went away. +By-the-by, is that the gentleman she is engaged to?" + +"Oh, dear, no! Why, that is Arend Van Voorst! Don't you know him? She is +engaged to a Mr. Ponsonby, an English settler in South Australia." + +"I see now that it is Mr. Van Voorst, whom I met several times before I +left," said Prescott, with unfailing amiability even under a snubbing. +Then, cheered by the prospect of again taking the superior position, he +continued in an impressive tone: "But it is not astonishing that I +should have taken him for Mr. Ponsonby. I believe I had the pleasure of +meeting that gentleman in Melbourne when I was in Australia, and the +resemblance is striking, especially at a little distance." + +"Did you, indeed?" asked Ada, inwardly burning with excitement, but +outwardly nonchalant. The remarkable extent of Miss Thorne's knowledge +of everyone's affairs was not gained by direct questioning, which she +had found defeated its own object. "It is rather odd you should have +happened to meet him in Melbourne, for he very seldom goes there, and +lives on a ranch in quite another part of Australia." + +"But I did meet him," replied Prescott. "He had come to Melbourne on +business, and I met him at a club dinner--a tall, handsome, light-haired +man. He sat opposite to me and we did not happen to be introduced, but I +am certain the name was Ponsonby. He took every opportunity of paying me +attention, and said something very nice about American ladies, which +made me feel sure he must have been here. Of course I did not know of +Miss Carey's engagement, or I should certainly have made his +acquaintance." + +"The engagement was not out then, and of course he could not speak of +it. Now I think of it, Mr. Van Voorst does really look a great deal like +Mr. Ponsonby's photograph." + +"I will speak of it to Miss Carey when I get an opportunity," said +Prescott, delighted. "The experiences one has on a long journey are +singular, Miss Thorne. Now as I was telling you----" + +Ten minutes later the whole crowd were gathering round Miss Morgan, who +made a kind of nucleus for those with homeward intentions, when Mr. +Avery and Miss Thorne came in the most accidental way right against Mr. +Van Voorst and Miss Carey. By what means half the crowd already knew +what was in the wind, and the other half knew that something was, we may +not inquire. It was not in human nature not to look and listen as the +four exchanged proper greetings. + +"Mr. Avery, Lily, has been telling me that he had the pleasure of +meeting Mr. Ponsonby in Melbourne," said Ada, "and thought you would be +glad to hear about it." + +"Oh, thank you," said Lily, quietly, "I have had letters written since, +of course. You were not in Melbourne very lately, Mr. Avery?" + +"Last summer--winter, I should say. You know, Miss Carey, it is so +queer, it is winter there when it is summer here--it is very hard to +realise it. But it is always agreeable to meet those who have really +seen one's absent friends, don't you think so?" + +"Oh, very!" + +"Mr. Ponsonby was looking very well and in very good spirits. I fancied +he showed a great interest in American matters, which I could not +account for. I wish I had known why, that I might have congratulated +him. I hope you will tell him so." + +"Thank you," said Lily again. She spoke with ease and readiness, but her +beautiful colour had faded, and there was a frightened look in her eyes, +as of someone who sees a ghost invisible to the rest of the company. + +"Mr. Avery was struck with Mr. Ponsonby's resemblance to you, Mr. Van +Voorst," said Ada; "you cannot be related, can you?" + +"Come," said Aunt Sophia, suddenly, "what is the use of standing here? I +am tired of it, for one, and I am going to the Ripley's to get a little +warmth into my bones, and all who are going to the Wilson's to-night had +better come too. Emmie, you and Bessie _must_, Lily, you and Susie and +Eleanor _had better_--you see, Mr. Van Voorst, how nice are the +gradations of my chaperonage." + +"Let me help you up the bank, Miss Morgan," said Arend; "it is steep +here." + +"Thank you--come, Mrs. Rhodes. Mrs. Ripley isn't at home, but we shall +find hot bouillon and bread and butter." + +"I had better not, thank you. I don't know Mrs. Ripley," stammered, with +chattering teeth, poor Mrs. Rhodes, shivering in her tight jacket and +thin boots. + +"You need not know her if you do come, as she is out," said Miss Morgan, +coolly; "and if you don't, you certainly won't, as you will most likely +die of pneumonia. Now Fanny may think you a fool for doing so, if you +like, but I'm not going to have her call me a brute for letting you. So +come before we freeze." + +Mrs. Rhodes meekly followed her energetic companion, both gallantly +assisted up the bank by Arend Van Voorst, who was devoted in his +attentions till they reached the house. He never looked towards Lily, +who, pale and quiet, walked behind with Emmeline Freeman, and as soon as +she entered the Ripley drawing-room ensconced herself, as in a nook of +refuge, behind the table with the big silver bowl, and ladled out the +bouillon with a trembling hand. The young men bustled about with the +cups, but Arend only took two for the older ladies, and went near her no +more. + +Not a Ripley was there, though it was reported that Tom had been seen on +the ice that morning and told them all to come in, of course. No one +seemed to heed their absence; Miss Morgan pulled Mrs. Ripley's own +blotting-book towards her and scribbled a letter to her friend; Eleanor +Carey threw open the piano, and college songs resounded. Mrs. Rhodes was +lost in wonder as she shyly sipped her soup, rather frightened at Mr. +Van Voorst's attentions. How could Mrs. Ripley ever manage to make her +cook send up hot soup at such an unheard-of hour? And could it be the +"thing" to have one's drawing-room in "such a clutter"? She tried to +take note of all the things lying about, unconscious that Miss Morgan +was noting _her_ down in her letter. Then came the rapid throwing on of +wraps, rushing to the station, and a laughing, pell-mell boarding of the +train. Mr. Van Voorst had disappeared, and Ada Thorne said he was going +to walk down to Brookline and take the next train from there--he was +going to New York on the night train and wanted a walk first. No one +else had anything to say in the matter, certainly not Lily, who +continued to keep near Miss Morgan and sat between her and the window, +silent all the while. As the train neared the first station, she jumped +up suddenly and hastened toward the door. + +"Why, Lily, what are you about?" "Lily, come back!" "Lily, this is the +wrong station!" resounded after her; but as no one was quick enough to +follow her, she was seen as the train moved on, walking off alone, with +the same scared look on her face. + +"There is something very odd about that girl," said Miss Morgan, as soon +as she was with her nieces on their homeward path. + +"It is only that she feels a little overcome," said Lily's staunch +admirer. "You know what Prescott Avery said about Mr. Van Voorst looking +like Mr. Ponsonby, and I'm sure he does. Don't you think him very like +his photograph?" + +"There is a kind of general likeness, but I must say of the two Arend +Van Voorst looks better fitted to fight his way in the bush, while Mr. +Ponsonby might spend his ten millions, if he had them, pleasantly +enough. Perhaps the idea is what has 'overcome' Lily, as you say." + +"Now, auntie, I am sure the resemblance might make her feel badly. She +has not seen Mr. Ponsonby for so long, and that attracted her to Mr. Van +Voorst; and it was so unkind of people to say all the hateful things +they did at the ball." + +"I must say myself, that she rather overdoes the part of Mrs. Gummidge. +It looks as if there was something more in it than thinking of the 'old +un.' If she really is so afraid of Mr. Ponsonby, he must look more like +Arend Van Voorst than his picture does. Well--we shall see." + +Late that afternoon Arend Van Voorst walked up Walnut Street westward, +drawn, as so many have been, by the red sunset glow that struck across +the lake beyond, through the serried ranks of black tree trunks, down +the long vista under the arching elms. Straight toward the blazing gate +he walked, but when he came to where the road parted, leaving the +brightness high and inaccessible above high banks of pure new snow that +looked dark against it, and dipping down right and left into valleys +where the shade of trees, even in winter, was thick and dark, he paused +a moment and then struck into the right hand road, the one that did not +lead toward the Careys' house. It was not till two or three hours later +that he approached it from the other side, warm with walking, and having +apparently walked off his hesitation, for he did not even slacken his +pace as he passed up the drive, though he looked the house, the place, +and the whole surroundings over with attentive carefulness. + +The Careys lived in a fascinating house, of no particular style, the +result of perpetual additions to the original and now very old nucleus. +As Mr. Carey's father had bought it fifty years ago, and as his +progenitors for some time further back had inhabited a much humbler +dwelling, now vanished, in the same town, it was called, as such things +go in America, their "ancestral home." It was the despair of architects +and decorators, who were always being adjured to "get an effect +something like the Carey house." The component elements were simple +enough, and the principal one was the habit of the Carey family always +to buy everything they wanted and never to buy anything they did not +want. If Mr. and Mrs. Carey took a fancy to a rug, or a chair, or a +picture, or a book, they bought it then and there, but they would go on +for years without new stair-carpets or drawing-room curtains--partly +because they never had time to go and choose them, partly because it was +such a stupid way to spend money; it was easier to keep the old ones, or +use something for a substitute that no one had ever thought of before, +and everybody was crazy to have afterwards. + +How much of all this Arend Van Voorst took in I cannot tell, but he +looked about him with the same curiosity after the house door had opened +and he was in the hall, and then as the parlour door opened, and he saw +Lily rising from her low chair, before the fire afar off at the end of +the long low room, a tall white figure standing out in pure, cool +darkness against the blaze, like the snow-banks against the sunset. He +did not know whether he wanted or not to see her alone, but on one point +he was anxious--he wanted to know whether he was to be alone with her or +not. The room was crowded with objects of every kind; two or three dogs +and cats languidly raised their heads from the sofas and ottomans as he +passed, and for aught he knew two or three children might be in the +crowd. Lily had the advantage of him; she knew very well that her mother +had driven into town with the other girls to the Wilsons' "small and +early"; that the younger children had been out skating all the afternoon +and had gone to bed; that the boys were out skating now and would not be +home for hours yet; and that her father, shut into his study with the +New York stock list, was as safe out of the way as if he had been +studying hieroglyphics at the bottom of the Grand Pyramid. So she was +almost too unconcerned in manner as she held out her hand and said, +"Good evening." + +He took the offered hand absently, still looking round the room, and as +he took in its empty condition, gave a sigh of relief. She sat down, +with a very slight motion toward a chair on the other side of the fire. +He obeyed mechanically, his eyes now fixed on her. If she was lovely in +her "old black," how much more was she in her "old white," put on for +the strictest home retirement. It was a much washed affair, very +yellowish and shrunken, and clinging to every line of her tall figure, +grand in its youthful promise. She had lost her colour, a rare thing for +her, and she had accentuated the effect of her pale cheeks and dark +eyelashes with a great spray of yellow roses in the bosom of her gown. + +"I thought you had gone to New York," she said, trying to speak lightly. + +"No," slowly; "I could not go without coming here first. I must see you +once at your own home." Then with an eager thrill in his voice, "He has +never been here, I believe?" + +"No," said Lily; "he was never here." + +"I have come the first, then; let him come when he wants to; I shall not +come again, to see him and you together." + +Both sat silently looking into the fire for a few moments, which the +clock seemed to mark off with maddening rapidity. Then Lily said in a +low tone, but so clearly that it could have been heard all over the +room, "If you do not wish to see him, he need never come at all." + +"For God's sake, Miss Carey!" burst out Arend, "show a little feeling in +this matter. I don't ask you to feel for me. I knew what I was about +from the first, and I took the risk. But show a little, feign a little, +if you must, for him. You know I love you. If your Mr. Ponsonby were +here to fight his own battles for himself, I would go in for a fair +fight with him, and give and ask no quarter. But--but--he is far away +and alone, keeping faith with you for years. If he has no claim on you, +he has one on me, and I'll not forget it." + +He paused, but Lily was silent. She looked wistful, yet afraid to speak. +Something of the same strangely frightened look was in her eyes that had +been there that afternoon. Arend, whose emotion had reached the stage +when the sound of one's own voice is a sedative, went on more calmly: + +"And don't think I make so much of a sacrifice. I am sure now you never +loved or could have loved me. If you had, there would have been some +struggle, some pleading of old remembrances. Your very feeling for me +would have roused some pity, at least, for him. He has your first +promise; I do not ask you to break it. You can give him all you have to +give to anyone, and perhaps he may be satisfied." + +"You need not trouble yourself about Mr. Ponsonby," said Lily, now cold +and calm, "as no such person exists." + +"What!" exclaimed her hearer, in bewildered astonishment. Wild visions +of the luckless Ponsonby, having heard by clairvoyance, or submarine +cable, of his own pretensions, and having forthwith taken himself out of +the way by pistol or poison, floated through his brain, and he went on +in an awe-struck tone, "Is he--is he dead?" + +"He never lived; Mr. Ponsonby, from first to last, is a pure piece of +fiction. Oh, you need not look so amazed; I am not out of my senses, I +assure you. Ask my father, ask my mother--they will tell you the same. +And now, stop! Once for all, just once! You must hear what I have to +say. I shall never ask you to hear me again, and you probably will never +want to." + +He looked blankly at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment. + +"Oh," she broke out suddenly, "you do not know--how should you?--what it +is to be a girl! to sit and smile and look pleasant while your life is +being settled for you, and to see some man or other doing his best to +make an utter snarl of it, while you must wait ready with your 'If you +please,' when he chooses to ask you to dance with him or marry him. And +to be a pretty girl is ten times worse. Everyone had settled ever since +I was seventeen that I was to marry Jack Allston. Both his family and my +family took it as a matter of course, and liked it well enough, as one +likes matters of course. I liked it well enough myself. I cannot say now +that I was ever in love with Jack Allston, but he seemed bound up in me, +and I was very fond of him, and thought I should be still more so when +we were once engaged. All the girls in my set expected to marry or be +called social failures, and where was I ever to find a better match in +every way than Jack? If I had refused him everyone would have thought +that I was mad. I had not the least idea of doing so, but meanwhile I +was in no hurry to be married. I thought it would be nicer to wait and +have a little pleasure, and I did have a great deal, till I was +eighteen, then till I was nineteen, and so on----" + +She stopped for a moment, for her voice was trembling, but with an +effort recovered herself and went on more firmly: + +"Just as people began to look and talk, and wonder why we were so slow, +and why it did not come out, and just as I began to think that I had had +enough of society, and that perhaps I ought to be willing to settle +down, I began to feel, too, that my power over him was going, gone! The +strings I had always played upon so easily were broken, and though I ran +over them in the old way, I could not win a sound. I hardly had time to +feel more than puzzled and frightened, when his engagement came out, and +it was all over. But there! it was the kindest way he could have done +it. I hate to think of some of the things I did and said to try if he +had indeed ceased to care for me; but they were not _much_, and if I had +had time I might have done more and worse. I was struck dumb with +surprise like everybody else. My father and mother were hurt and +anxious, but it was easy to reassure them, and without deception. I +could tell them the truth, but not the whole truth. I did not suffer +from what they supposed. My heart was not broken, or even seriously +hurt, but oh! how much I wished at times that it had been! Had I really +loved and been forsaken, I could have sat down by the wayside and asked +the whole world for pity, without a thought of shame. But for what had I +to ask pity? I was like a rider who had been thrown and broken no bones, +in so ridiculous a way that he excites no sympathy. What if he is +battered and bruised? If he complains, people only laugh. I held my +tongue when my raw places were hit. I had the pleasure of hearing that +Julia Noble had been saying--" and here Lily put on Mrs. Allston's +manner to perfection--"'I hope poor Miss Carey was not disappointed. +Jack has, I fear, been paying her more attention than he ought; but it +was only to divert comment from me; dear Jack has so much delicacy of +feeling where I am concerned!'--No, don't say anything; let me have +done, I will not take long. I could not get away from it all, and what +was I to do? To go on in society and play the same game over with some +one else was unendurable; I was getting past the age for that. Susan was +out and Eleanor coming out, and I felt I ought to have taken myself out +of their way, in the proper fashion. To take up art or philanthropy was +not in my line. The girls I knew were not brought up with those ideas +and didn't take to them unless they started with being odd, or ugly, or +would own up to a disappointment. My place in the world had suited me to +perfection, and now it was hateful and no other was offered me. + +"It was just at this time that the devil--to speak plainly, as I told +you I was going to--put the idea of poor Mr. Ponsonby into my head. An +engaged girl is always excused from everything else. My lover was not +here to take up my time, and as I could postpone my wedding indefinitely +whenever I pleased, my preparations need not be hurried. I dropped +society and all the hateful going out, and had delicious evenings at +home with papa when I was supposed to be writing my long letters to +Australia. I thought I could drop it whenever I liked. I did not know +what I was doing." + +"You? Perhaps not!" exclaimed Arend, with an exasperating air of +superior age; "but your father and mother--what in the name of common +sense were they thinking about to allow all this?" + +"Oh, you must not think they liked it; they didn't. To tell you all the +truth, I don't think they half-understood it at first. I did not tell +them until I had dropped a hint of it elsewhere, and I suppose they +thought I had only given a vague glimpse of a possible future lover +somewhere in the distance. Poor dears! things have changed since they +were young, and they don't realise that if a man speaks to a girl it is +in the newspapers the next day. I had not known what I was doing. I +really have not told as many lies as you might think. Full half that you +have heard about Mr. Ponsonby never came from me at all. You don't know +how reports can grow, especially when Ada Thorne has the lead in them. +Not that she exactly invents things, but a hint from me, and some I +never meant, would come back all clothed in circumstance. I could not +wear my old pink sash to save my others without hearing that that +tea-rose tint was Mr. Ponsonby's favourite colour. Ponsonby grew out of +my hands as this went on; and really the more he outgrew me the better +I liked him, and indeed I ended by being rather in love with him. He had +to have so many misfortunes, too, and that was a link between us." + +"But," said her hearer, suddenly, "did not Prescott Avery meet him at +Melbourne?" + +"Oh, if you knew Prescott, you would know that he meets everybody. If it +had been a Mr. Percival of Java, instead of Ponsonby of Australia, he +would have remembered him or something about him. Still, that was a +dreadful moment. I felt like Frankenstein when his creature stalks out +alive. Poor Mr. Ponsonby! I shall send him his _coup-de-grâce_ by the +next Australian mail. People will say that I did it in the hope of +catching you, and have failed. Let them--I deserve it. And now, Mr. Van +Voorst, please to go. I have humiliated myself before you enough. I said +I would tell you the truth, and you have heard it all. If you must +despise me, have pity and don't show it." + +Lily's voice, so clear at first, had grown hoarse, and her cheeks were +burning in a way that caused her physical pain. She rose to her feet and +stood leaning on the back of her chair and looking at the floor. + +"Go! and without a word? Do you think I have nothing to say? Sit +down!"--as she made some little motion to go. "I have heard you, and +now you must hear me." + +Lily sank unresistingly into her chair, while he went on, "You say girls +have a hard time; so they do--I have always been sorry for them. But +don't you suppose men have troubles of their own? You say a pretty girl +has the worst of it. How much better off is the man, who, according to +the common talk, has only to 'pick and choose'; who walks along the row +of pretty faces to find a partner for the dance or for life, as it +happens--it is much the same. The blue angel is the prettiest and the +pink the wittiest; very likely he takes the yellow one, who is neither, +while in the corner sits the white one, who would have suited him best, +and whom he hardly saw at all. If he thinks he is satisfied, it is just +as well. I was not unduly vain nor unduly humble. I knew my wealth was +the first thing about me in most people's minds, but I was not a +monster, and a girl might like me well enough without it. A woman is not +often forced into marriage in this country. I had no notions of +disguising myself, or educating a child to marry, as men have done, to +be loved for themselves alone. What is a man's self? My wealth, my place +in the world were part of me. I was born with them. I should probably +find some nice girl who appreciated them and liked me well enough, and +I felt that I ought to give some such one the chance--and yet--and +yet--I wanted something more. + +"In this state of mind I met you at the ball. Very likely if I had seen +you among the other girls, I might not have given you more than a +passing glance; but I thought you were married, and the thrill of +disappointment had as much pleasure as pain, for I felt I could have +loved. But you were not married, only engaged. What's an engagement? It +may mean everything or nothing. For the life of me I could not help +trying how much it meant to you. What must the man be, I thought, as I +sat by you on the stairs, whom this girl loves? He should be a hero, and +yet, as such things go, he's just as likely to be a noodle. You +laughed--I could have sworn you knew what I was thinking." + +"Yes! I remember. I was thinking how nicely you would do for a model for +my Ponsonby," Lily said. Their eyes met for a moment with a swift flash +of intelligence, but the light in hers was quenched with hot, unshed +tears. + +"No laugh ever sounded more fancy free! I felt as if you challenged me; +and if he had been here I would have taken up the challenge--he or I, +once for all. But he was alone and far away, and I could not take his +place. Why did I meet you on the pond, then? why did I come here +to-night? Because I wanted to see if I could not go a little further +with you. I wanted something to remember, a look, a tone, a word, that +ought not to have been given to any man but your promised husband; +something I could not have asked if I had hoped to be your husband. My +magnanimity toward Ponsonby, you see, did not go the length of behaving +to his future wife with the respect I would show my own." + +"You have shown how much you despise me," said Lily, springing to her +feet, her hot tears dried with hotter anger, but her face white again. +"That might have been spared me. I suppose you think I deserve it. Very +well, I do, and you need not stay to argue the matter. Go!" + +"Go! Why I should be a fool to go now, and you would be--well, we will +call it mistaken--to let me. After we have got as far as we have, it +would be absurd to suppose we can go back again. We know each other now +better than nine tenths of the couples who have been married a year. I +don't ask you to say you love me now; I am very sure you can, and I know +I can love you--infinitely----" + +"Oh, but--but you said you would not take his place--Mr. Ponsonby's. Can +you let everyone think you capable of such an act of meanness? And if +you could not respect me as your wife, how can you expect others to? Can +we appear to act in a way to deserve contempt without despising each +other?" + +"There will be a good deal that is unpleasant about it, no doubt; but +everyone's life has some unpleasantness. It would be worse to let a +dream, even a dream of honor, come between us and our future. You made a +mistake and underestimated its consequences, but it would be foolish to +lose the substance of happiness because we have lost the shadow. We will +live it down together and be glad it is no worse." + +"But I have been so wrong, so very wrong--I have too many faults ever to +make anyone happy." + +"Of course you have faults, but I know the worst of them and can put up +with them. I have plenty of my own which you may be finding out by this +time. I am very domineering--you will have to promise to obey me, and I +shall keep you to it; and then I can, under provocation, be furiously +jealous." + +"You are not jealous of Jack Allston?" she whispered. + +"Jealous of old Jack? Oh, no! I shall keep my jealousy for poor Mr. +Ponsonby." + +Society had been so often agitated by Lily Carey's affairs that it took +with comparative coolness the tidings that she was to be married to +Arend Van Voorst in six weeks. Miss Morgan said she supposed Lily was +tired of "engagements," and wanted to be married this time. Her niece +Emmeline shed tears over "poor Mr. Ponsonby," and refused to act as +bridesmaid at his rival's nuptials; and in spite of her aunt's scoldings +and Lily's entreaties, and all the temptations of the bridesmaids' pearl +"lily" brooches and nosegays of Easter lilies, arranged a visit to her +cousins in Philadelphia to avoid being present. Miss Thorne had no such +scruples, and it is to her the world owes a lively account of the +wedding; how it was fixed at so early a date lest "poor Mr. Ponsonby" +should hurry over to forbid the banns, and how terribly nervous Lily +seemed lest he might, in spite of the absolute impossibility, and though +Ponsonby, true gentleman to the last, never troubled her then or after. + +"Poor Mr. Van Voorst, I should say!" exclaimed Mrs. Jack Allston. "I am +sure he is the one to be pitied. But do tell me all the presents that +have come in, for Jack says that I must give them something handsome +after such a present as he gave me when we were married." + +Mrs. Van Voorst received the tidings of her son's approaching marriage +rather doubtfully. "Yes--the Careys were a very nice family; she knew +Mrs. Carey was an Arlington, and her mother a Berkeley, and his +mother--but--Miss Carey was very handsome, she had heard--with the +Berkeley style of beauty and the Arlington manner, but--but--she did not +mind their being Unitarians, for many of the very best people were, in +Boston, but--but--but--indeed, my dear Arend, I have heard a good deal +about her that I do not altogether like. I hope it may not be +true--about her keeping Jack Allston hanging on for years, as +_pis-aller_ to that young Englishman she was engaged to all the +while--and finally throwing him over--and now she has thrown over this +Mr. Ponsonby too!" + +"Will you do just one thing for me, dear mother," asked her son; "will +you forget all you have _heard_ about Lily, and judge her by what you +_see_?" + +Mrs. Van Voorst had never refused Arend anything in his life, and could +not now. By what magic Lily, in their very first interview, won over the +good lady is not known, but afterwards no mother-in-law's heart could +have withstood the splendid son and heir with which she enriched the Van +Voorst line. The young Van Voorsts were allowed by all their friends to +be much happier than they deserved to be. Long after the gossip over +their marriage had ceased, and it was an old story even to them, Arend +was still in love with his wife. Lily was interesting; she had that +quality or combination of qualities, impossible to analyse, which wins +love where beauty fails, and keeps it when goodness tires. Her own +happiness was more simple in its elements. She was better off than most +women, and knew it--the last, the crowning gift, so often lacking to the +fortunate of earth. She thought her husband much too good for her, +though she never told him so. Nay, sometimes when she was a little +fretted by his exacting disposition, for Arend was a strict martinet in +all social and household matters and, as he had said, would be minded, +she would sometimes more or less jestingly tell him that perhaps after +all she had made a mistake in not keeping faith with "poor Mr. +Ponsonby." + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +MODERN VENGEANCE + + +"Well, Lucy, I must say I never saw anything go off more delightfully!" + +"It would hardly fail to, with such interesting people," said Mrs. Henry +Wilson. + +"Why, every one said they thought it would be most difficult to manage; +a sort of half-public thing, you know, to entertain those delegates or +whatever they call them; they said it was well you had it, for no one +else could possibly have made it go so well." + +"I have no doubt most of them could, if they had all the help I +had--from you, especially! I only wish I could have made it a dinner, +instead of a lunch; but Henry is so very busy, just now, and I dared not +attempt a dinner without him." + +"Oh, my dear!" said her mother-in-law, "a doctor's time is always so +occupied; they all know that. And dear Henry, of course, is more +occupied than most." + +"Perhaps it is as well," said the younger lady, "that they could come by +daylight, as it is so far out of town; Medford is pretty, even in +winter." + +"Oh, yes! so they all said. Lady Bayswater thinks it is the prettiest +suburb of Boston she has yet seen; and she admired the house, too, and +you, and everything. 'Mrs. Wilson,' she said to me, 'your charming +daughter-in-law is the prettiest American woman I have seen yet.'" And +Mrs. Wilson, senior, a little elderly woman, to whom even her rich +mourning dress could not impart dignity, jerked her heavy black +Astrachan cape upon her shoulders, and tied its wide ribbons in a +fluttering, one-sided way. + +"She is very kind." + +"And they all said so many things--I can't remember them." + +"I am glad if they were pleased," said Mrs. Henry Wilson, rousing +herself; "to tell the truth, I have not been able to think much of the +lunch, or how it went off." + +"Why, dear Henry is well, isn't he?" + +"Yes, as well as usual, but a good deal troubled about----" + +"Oh, the poor little Talbot boy! how is he?" + +"I do not know. Henry, of course, gives no opinion; but I am afraid it +is a very serious case. Membranous croup always is alarming, you know." + +"Yes, indeed! sad--very sad; and their only boy, too, now. To be sure, +if any one can save him, dear Henry can; but then, what with losing the +other, and so much sickness as they have had, and Mabel expecting again, +I really don't see how they are to get along," said Mrs. Wilson, fussing +with her pocket handkerchief. + +"It is very hard," assented her daughter-in-law, with a sigh. + +"I do pity poor Eugene. What can a man do? I saw all those children +paddling in the wet snow only last week; very likely that brought it on. +If I had let mine do so when they were little, I should have expected +them to have croup, and diphtheria, and everything else. I would not +mention it to any one but you, but I do think Mabel has always been very +careless of her children." + +"Poor Mabel!" said Mrs. Henry Wilson, with a look of angelic compassion. +"Remember how many cares and troubles she has had, and all her own +ill-health. We all make mistakes sometimes in the care of our children, +with the very best intentions. I let Harry play out in that very snow. I +feared then that you might not approve; but you were not here, and he +was so eager!" + +"Oh, but, my dear, you always look after Harry so well! Those Talbot +children had no rubbers on; and then, Harry is so much stronger than +his father was. I do think your management most successful. I only wish +poor Eugene had a wife like you." And as her hearer was silent: "I must +go. Darling Harry is still at gymnasium, isn't he? and I suppose it is +no use waiting for dear Henry, now. My love to them both; and do come +round when you can, dear, won't you?" And after a little more fuss in +looking for her muff and letting down her veil, and a prolonged series +of embraces of her daughter-in-law, she departed. + +Young Mrs. Wilson, left alone, sat down in front of a glowing fire to +review her day; but earlier memories appealed so much more powerfully, +that in another moment she was reviewing her whole past life--an +indulgence she rarely allowed herself. + +If the poet in the country churchyard was struck with the thought of +greatness that had perished unknown for lack of opportunity, how doubly +he might have pointed his moral with renown missed by being of the wrong +sex. In clear perception of her ends, and resistless pursuit of them, +Lucy Morton had not been inferior in her sphere to Napoleon in his; and +if, after all, she was not so clever as she thought herself, why, +neither was he. To begin with, she was born in a _cul-de-sac_ ending at +a cow pasture. But what is that to genius? "This lane," she thought, +"shall never hem me in"; and from earliest childhood she struggled to +grow out of it, like a creeper out of a hole, catching at every aid. + +She was early left an orphan, and lived with her grandfather, a +well-to-do retired grocer, and her grandmother, and a maiden aunt. There +was one other house in the lane, and in it lived a great-aunt, widow of +the grocer's brother and partner, and a maiden first cousin once +removed. They were a contented family, and liked the seclusion of their +place of abode, which was clean and quiet, and where the old gentleman +could prune his trees, and prick out his lettuces unobserved. He read +the daily paper, and took a nap after his early dinner. The women made +their own clothes, and dusted their parlours, and washed their dishes, +and as the _cul-de-sac_ was loathed of servants, they often had the +opportunity of doing all their own work, which they found a pleasant +excitement, and in their secret souls preferred. They belonged to the +Unitarian church, which marked them as slightly superior to the reigning +grocer, who went to the "Orthodox meeting," but did not give them the +social intercourse they would have found in churches of inferior +pretensions. The elite of Medford, in those early days, was chiefly +Unitarian, and it respected the Mortons, who gave generously of their +time and money whenever they were asked. Its men spoke highly of "old +Morton," and were civil to him at town and parish meetings; and its +women would bow pleasantly to his female relatives after service and +speak to them at sewing circles; and would inquire after the rest of the +family when they could remember who they were. More, the Mortons did not +ask or wish. They knew enough people on whom to make formal calls, gave +or went to about six tea-parties a year, and exchanged visits with +cousins who lived in Braintree. + +Lucy was sent to the public school, and taught sewing and housework at +home. She proved an apt pupil at both, and showed no discontent with her +daily routine. She was early allowed to sit up to tea, even when company +came; and had she asked to bring home any little girl in her school to +play with her, her grandmother would not have objected. But she did not +ask, nor was she ever seen with her schoolmates in the shady, rural +Medford roads. + +Perhaps she might have pined for companions of her own age, but that +fortune had provided her with some near by. At the entrance of the lane +where she lived, but fronting on a wider thoroughfare, was the house of +Mrs. Wilson, a widow of good means and family, who filled less than her +proper space among her own connections, for she went out but little, +being engrossed with the care and education of her two delicate little +boys to a degree which rendered her fatiguing as a companion--the +poorness of their physical constitutions, and the excellence of their +moral natures, being her one unending theme. They were not strong enough +for the most private of schools, and were too good to be exposed to its +temptations, and always had a governess at home. + +"Henny" and "Cocky" Wilson--their names were Henry and Cockburn, and +their light red hair, combed into scanty crests on top of their heads, +had suggested these soubriquets--were the amusement of their mother's +contemporaries, and the scorn of their own. A hundred tales were told of +them: as, how when Mrs. Wilson first came home from abroad, where she +had lived long after her husband's death there, she brought her boys to +Sunday-school, with the audible request to the superintendent that as +they were such good little children, they might, if possible, be placed +among those of similar, if not equal, qualities; thereby provoking the +whole school for the next month to a riotous behaviour which poor Mr. +Milliken found it difficult to subdue. + +Mrs. Wilson's friends made some efforts to induce their boys to be +friendly with hers, with the result that one July evening, Eugene +Talbot, a bright-eyed, curly-haired little dare-devil, who led the +revels, patronisingly invited them to join a swimming party after dark +in the reservoir which supplied Medford with water--one of those +illegal, delicious sprees which to look back on stirs the blood of age. +Henny and Cocky gave no answer till they had gone, as in duty bound, to +consult their mother, who replied: "My dears, I think this would be a +very uncomfortable amusement. Should you not enjoy much more taking a +bath in our own bathroom, with plenty of soap and hot-water?" It +required a great effort of self-control on Eugene's part not to knock +the heads of the two together when they reported their mother's opinion +to him _verbatim_; but he had the feeling that it would be as mean to +hit one of the Wilsons as to hit a girl, and he only sent them to +Coventry, where they grew up, apparently careless. They were content at +home, and they could now and then play with Lucy Morton, who had +contrived to make their acquaintance through the garden fence, and who, +though three years younger than Cocky, the youngest, was quite as +advanced in every way. + +When Mrs. Richard Reed, the social leader of the town, tired of taking +her children into Boston to Papanti's dancing-class, prevailed upon the +great man to come out and open one in Medford, she could not be +over-particular in her selection of applicants, the requisite number +being hard to make up; but when she opened a note signed, "Sarah C. +Morton," asking admission for the writer's granddaughter, she paused +doubtfully. "It is a queerly written note, but it looks like a lady's +somehow," she said, consulting her privy council. + +"Oh, that is old Mrs. Morton, who comes to our church, don't you know? +They are very respectable, quiet people. I don't believe there's any +harm in the little girl," said adviser number one. + +"She is a pretty, well-behaved child. I have noticed her at +Sunday-school," added councillor number two. + +"She is a sweet little thing," said Mrs. Wilson, who was present, though +not esteemed of any use in the matter. "My dear boys sometimes play with +her, and are so fond of her, and they would not like any little girl who +was not nice." + +"Oh, well, she can come!" said Mrs. Reed, dashing off a hasty consenting +line, and thinking, "She will do to dance with Henny and Cocky; none of +the other girls will care to, I imagine, and I don't want to hurt the +old lady's feelings. What can have made her think of asking?" + +It will easily be guessed that Miss Lucy had been the instigator of +this daring move. She had begun by asking her grandfather, who never +refused her anything, and backed by his sanction had succeeded in +persuading her grandmother, who wrote an occasional letter, but who +hardly knew what a note was, to sit down and write one to Mrs. Reed. So +to the dancing-school she went, alone; for neither grandmother, aunts, +nor cousin ever dreamed of accompanying her. But she felt no fears. She +was a pretty little girl, and took to dancing as a duck to water; but +she did not presume on the popularity these qualities might have won her +with the older boys, but patiently devoted herself to Henny and Cocky +and the younger fry, whom Mr. Papanti was only too glad to consign to +her skilful pilotage. Their mothers approved of her, especially after +she had asked Mrs. Reed, with many blushes, "if she might not sit near +her, when she was not dancing?" "I have to come alone," she added shyly, +"for my dear grandmamma is so old, you know, and my aunt is far from +strong." Both of these women could have done a good day's washing, and +slept soundly for nine hours after it; but of this Mrs. Reed knew +nothing, and pronounced Lucy a charming child, with such sweet manners, +took her home when it rained, and asked her to her next juvenile party. + +It was an easy step from this to Lucy Morton at one-and-twenty, where +her quick backward glance next lighted, the popular favourite of the +best "set" of girls in Medford, and extending her easy flight beyond +under the drilling chaperonage of their mammas. She pleased all she met +of whatever age or sex, though to more dangerous distinctions she made +no pretensions. She had early learned the great secret of popularity, so +rarely understood at any age, that people do not want to admire +you--they want you to admire them. No one called Lucy Morton a beauty; +but it was wonderful how many beauties were numbered among her intimate +friends, how many compliments they received, what hosts of admirers they +had, and how brilliant, clever, and full of promise were these admirers. +Indeed, after a dance or a talk with Miss Morton, the young men could +not help thinking so themselves. + +As for Lucy, she was early consigned by public opinion to one or other +of the Wilsons. Henny and Cocky had miraculously survived their mother's +coddling and clucking, and had kept alive through college and +professional training, though looking as if it had been a hard struggle. +Henny had, at the period on which his wife was now dwelling, returned +from his medical studies at Vienna, while Cocky still lingered in Paris +studying architecture. + +There was very little opening for Dr. Henry Wilson in his native town; +but his mother would have been wretched had he gone anywhere else. He +set up an office in her house, and his friends said it was a good thing +he had money enough to live on, for really none of them could be +expected to call him in. He practised among the poor, who seemed to like +him; but of course they could not afford to be particular. + +He would be a very good match for Lucy Morton, if not for any girl of +his own circle. They lived close by each other and had always been +intimate; and she was such a sweet, amiable girl, just the one to put up +with Mrs. Wilson's tiresome ways! If her relations were scarcely up to +the Wilson claims, at least they were quiet and harmless, and would +probably leave her a little money. + +With such reasoning did all the neighbouring matrons allay their +anxieties as to their favourite's future. Their daughters dissented. The +latter had gradually come to perceive that Lucy had no intentions of the +kind. Not one of them but thought her justified in looking higher, and +not one envious or grudging comment was spoken or even thought when they +began to regard her as destined for Eugene Talbot--not even by those, +and they were many, who themselves cherished a budding preference for +Eugene, a flirt in a harmless, careless way. Everyone allowed that his +attentions this time were serious. How naturally, how irresistibly, the +pleasing conviction stole upon Lucy's own heart! + +Mrs. Wilson, a wife of many years, here sprang to her feet, with her +heart beating hard, and her cheeks flushing scarlet with shame. So would +they flush on her death-bed, if the remembrance of that time came to +disturb her then--the only time when her prudence had for once failed, +the only time when she had trusted any one but herself, when she had +really, truly, been so sure that Eugene Talbot loved her, that she had +let others see she thought so. She had disclaimed, indeed, all knowledge +of his devotion, but she had disclaimed it with a blushing cheek and +conscious smile, like a little--little--oh, _what_ a little fool! + +There was no open wound to her pride to resent. He had never spoken out +plainly, and no mere attentions from an emperor would have won a +premature response from Miss Morton; nor was it possible for her to +betray her preference to anyone else. How she found out, as early and as +surely as she did, that his hour for speaking was never to come, was +marvellous even to herself; but she was clairvoyant, so to speak, so +fully did she extract from those who surrounded her all they knew, and +much they did not know. Before Eugene's engagement to Mabel Andrews was +a fixed fact, before Mabel herself knew it was to come, she did, and +took her measures accordingly. + +One terrible, long afternoon she spent in her own room behind closed +shutters, seeing even then, in the darkness, Eugene, proud and handsome, +breathing words of love in the Andrews's beautiful blossoming garden +among all the flowers of May, while a glow of rapturous surprise lighted +up Mabel's sweet, impassive face. It might have been some consolation to +another girl to know her own superiority, and to feel sure that Eugene +was marrying the amiable, refined, utterly commonplace Miss Andrews with +the view to the push her highly placed relatives could, and doubtless +would, give him in his business; but the knowledge only added a sting to +Lucy's sufferings. She bore them silently, tasting their full +bitterness, and then left the room, the very little bit of girlishness +in her composition gone forever, but still ready to draw from life the +gratifications proper to maturer years. She could imagine that revenge +might not lose its taste with time, and she had already some faint +conception of the form hers might take. + +She walked down the lane and far enough along the street to turn about +and be overtaken by Dr. Wilson on his way home. Of course he stopped to +speak to her, and then walked a little way up the lane with her; and +when Miss Morton once had Dr. Wilson all to herself in a _cul-de-sac_, +it was impossible for him to help proposing to her if she were inclined +to have him. Indeed, he was much readier at the business than she had +expected. In an hour both families knew all about it; and the next day +the engagement was "out," to the excitement of their whole world. It was +such a romantic affair--childish attachment--Henry Wilson so deeply in +love, and so hopeless of success, his feelings accidentally betrayed at +last! On these details dilated all Lucy's young friends. They did not +think they could ever have loved him themselves, but they admired her +for doing so. When, some time after, the grander but less interesting +match between the Talbot and Andrews clans was announced, it chiefly +roused excitement as having doubtless been the result of pique on +Eugene's part--an idea to which his subdued appearance gave some colour; +and he was pitied accordingly. + +His wedding was a quiet one, overshadowed by the glories of Lucy's. No +one would have dreamed of her grandparents doing the thing with such +magnificence; but they were so surprised and pleased, for to them the +Wilson connection was a lofty one; and Mrs. Wilson was so flatteringly +eager and delighted, that Lucy found them pliant to her will. Her +grandfather unhesitatingly put at her disposal a larger sum than his +yearly expenditure had ever amounted to; and her exquisite taste in +using it made her wedding a spectacle to be remembered, and conferring +distinction on everyone who assisted in the humblest capacity, while +still each one of these had the flattering conviction that without his +or her presence the whole thing would have been a failure. The bride of +ten years back could not but recall with approval her own demeanour on +the occasion, when, "as one in a dream, pale and stately she went," the +very personification of feeling too deep to be stirred by the unregarded +trifles of her wedding pomp. + +The tale of the ensuing years she ran briefly over, for it was one of +uncheckered prosperity. Dr. Wilson's reputation had steadily grown. +Hardly a year after his marriage he had successfully performed the +operation of tracheotomy upon a patient almost _in articulo mortis_; and +although it was only on the ninth child of an Irish labourer, it got +into all the newspapers, and ran the rounds of all circles. It was +wonderful how such cases came in his way after that, till no one in +town dreamed of calling in anyone else for a sore throat; the other +physicians being, as Mrs. Henry Wilson was wont to say, "very good +general practitioners, _but_--" At thirty-five he had an established +fame as a specialist, with an immense consulting practice extending all +over and about Boston, his personal disadvantages forgotten in the +prestige of his marvellous skill, indeed, rather enhancing it. + +He took his successes very indifferently; but his wife showed a loving +pride in them, too simple and too well controlled to excite envy, gently +checking his mother's more outspoken exultation, and backing him up in +his refusal of all solicitations to move into Boston, well knowing his +constitution could never stand a town life. Money was now less of an +object to him than ever. Lucy's grandfather had died in peace and +honour, leaving a much larger estate than any one had dreamed possible. +The lane had been extended into a road, and the cow pasture had been cut +up into building lots. All the Morton property had risen in value, and +all was one day to be Lucy's; and on the very prettiest spot in it she +now lived, in a charming house designed (with her assistance) by her +brother-in-law, that rising young architect, Cockburn Wilson, so +strikingly original, and so delightfully convenient, that photographs +and plans of it were circulated in every direction, bringing the +architect more orders than he wanted or needed; for though with not much +more to boast of in the way of looks than his brother, he had made +another amazing stroke of Wilson luck in marrying that great heiress, +Miss Jenny Diman. She was a heavy, shy young person, who had been +educated in foreign convents, and had missed her proper duty of marrying +a foreign nobleman by being called suddenly home to settle her estate. +She had taken a fancy to the clever, amusing Mrs. Wilson, had visited +her, and found the little _partie carrée_ at her pretty house +delightful, she hardly knew why; but it was evident that her hostess's +married life was most successful, and Lucy told her that dear Cockburn +had in him the making of as devoted a husband as dear Henry. + +Dear Cockburn for some time showed no eagerness to exercise his latent +powers; but his delicacy in addressing so great an heiress once +overcome, swelled into heroic proportions, and made the love affairs of +two extremely plain and quiet people into a wildly romantic drama. They +seemed surprised, but well content, when they found themselves settled +in their pretty home, still prettier than Dr. Wilson's, because it +showed yet newer ideas; and Mrs. Cockburn Wilson, who had never known +society, developed a taste for it, which her sister-in-law well knew how +to direct. + +Lucy's active mind had just run down the stream of time to the present, +and was boldly projecting itself forward into the future, and the +throbbing pulses her one painful memory had raised were subsiding in the +soothing task of planning the decorations for a dinner party for which +Jenny's invitations were already out. She had just decided that it would +make a good winter effect to fill all Jenny's lovely Benares brass bowls +with red carnations, when her husband entered the room. + +The crest of sandy locks, which had won Dr. Wilson his boyish title, had +thinned and faded now. It was difficult to say of what colour it had +been; and his face was of no colour at all. He had no salient points, +and won attention chiefly by always looking very tired. This evening he +looked doubly so. "Dear Henry, I am so glad!" cried his wife, springing +up to give him an affectionate embrace. "You will have something to +eat?" and, as he nodded silently, she rang the bell twice, the only +signal needed at any hour to produce an appetising little meal at once; +and she herself waited on him while he ate. + +"How is the little boy?" she asked timidly. + +"Very low." + +"Are you going back?" + +"Directly. I am going to operate as soon as Stevens gets there. I have +telephoned for him." + +"Is there any hope?" + +"Can't say." + +"Can I do anything?" + +"You might come and take the other children home with you--all but the +baby." + +"I can just as well have her too." + +"I would rather have her there; her mother needs her." + +"Yes, I suppose you don't want Mabel in the room while the operation is +going on." + +"I don't want her there at all. She's of no use." + +"Poor thing!" + +"She can't help it." + +"Could I do anything there? If I can, Jenny will take the children, I +know." + +"No, there's no need of that." The doctor threw out his sentences +between mouthfuls of food automatically taken from a plate replenished +by his wife. + +"What nurse have they?" + +"They've had Nelly Fuller--she is a very fair one; but of course they +need two now, and one of them first rate, so I got Julia Mitchell for +them." + +"Julia! but how ever could you make Mrs. Sypher give her up?" + +"I had no trouble." + +"And how can the Talbots ever manage to pay her?" + +"That will be all right. I told them she would not expect her full price +for such a short engagement, in a gap between two others. I settled it +with her myself beforehand, of course." + +"I am very glad you did," said Lucy, with another loving caress, which +he hardly seemed to notice. He looked at his watch, and told her she had +better hurry and change her dress. In five minutes they walked together +down the street under the beautiful arch of leafless elms, where the +snowy air brought glowing roses into Lucy's cheeks, and an elastic +spring into her tread. Her husband shrank up closer inside his fur-lined +coat, and slipped a case he had taken from his study from one cold hand +to another. + +"I hope the children will be ready," from her; "Julia will see to that," +from him,--were all the words that passed between them on their way. + +The Talbot house was but a few streets off. Lucy did not often enter it; +but the picture of battered, faded prettiness it presented, taken in at +a few glances, and heightened each time it was seen, was deeply stamped +on her mind. There was no spare money to keep up appearances here. +Mabel's father had been unfortunate in his investments and extravagant +in his expenditures, and died a poor man, while her relations had grown +tired of helping Eugene, whose business talents had not fulfilled their +early promise. He always seemed, somehow, to miss in his calculations. + +What little order there now was in the place was due to the energetic +rule of Julia Mitchell, already felt from garret to cellar. By her care +the three little girls were dressed and ready, and were hanging, eager +and excited, round their mother, who sat, her baby on her lap, with +tear-washed cheeks and absent gaze, all pretence to the art of dress +abandoned. She hardly looked up as her beautiful, richly clad visitor +entered; but when she felt the tender pressure of the hand that Lucy +silently extended, she gave way to a fresh burst of grief. + +"Stevens here? asked Dr. Wilson, aside, of Miss Mitchell. + +"Yes, sir; he's upstairs; and Miss Fuller, and Mr. Talbot--_he's_ some +use, and the boy wants him. I don't believe you'll ever get him to take +the ether unless his papa's 'round; and I thought, if Miss Fuller would +stay outside and look after _her_?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then, if Mrs. Wilson will take the others off, why, the sooner the +better." + +The doctor looked at his wife, who was quick to respond, though with her +whole soul she longed to stay. She wanted to see Eugene; to know how he +was taking it; to hear him say something to her, no matter what; to give +him the comfort and support his wife was evidently past giving; and +then, she wanted to see her husband as nearly as possible at the moment +he had saved the child's life. She did not let the thought that he might +fail enter her mind,--not in this case, the crowning case of his life! +For this alone he had toiled, and she had striven. She gave his hand one +hard squeeze, as if to make him catch some of the passionate longing of +her heart, and then drew back with the fear that it might weaken rather +than strengthen his nerve. He looked as immobile as ever; and she turned +to take the children's little hands in hers. + +"Oh, Lucy!" faltered out her successful rival, "how good of you! I can't +tell you--it does not seem as if it could be true that my beautiful +Eugene--" Here another burst of sobs shook her all over. Lucy's own +tears, as she kissed the poor mother, were bright in her eyes, but they +did not fail. She led the two older girls silently away, and young Dr. +Walker, who had been standing in the background, followed with the third +in his arms, his cool business air, just tempered by a proper +consideration for the parents' feelings, covering his inward excitement +at this first chance of assisting the great physician at an operation. +As he helped the pretty Mrs. Wilson, adored of all her husband's pupils, +into her handsome carriage, which had come for her, and settled his +little charge on her lap, he was astonished, and even awe-struck, to see +that she was crying. "I never thought," he said to himself, "that Mrs. +Wilson had so much feeling! but to be sure she has a boy just this +little fellow's age!" + + * * * * * + +At nine o'clock, the Talbot children, weary of the delights of that +earthly paradise, Harry Wilson's nursery, had been put to bed, and Lucy +was waiting for her husband. She looked anxiously at his face when he +came, but it told her nothing. + +"How--is he?" she faltered out at last. + +"Can't tell as yet." + +"Was the operation successful?" + +"Yes, that was all right enough." + +"And how soon shall you know if he's likely to rally?" + +"Impossible to say." + +"Any bad signs?" + +"No, nothing apparent as yet." + +"You must be very tired," she said, with a tender, unnoticed touch of +her hand to his forehead. + +"Not very." + +"Have you been there all this time?" + +"No, I have made one or two other calls. I was there again just now." + +"Do have some tea," said Lucy, striking a match and lighting the alcohol +lamp under her little brass kettle, to prepare the cup of weak, +sugarless, creamless tea, the only luxury of taste which the doctor, +otherwise rigidly keeping to a special unvaried regimen, allowed +himself; and while he sipped it languidly, she watched him intently. If +only he would say anything without being asked! But she could not wait. + +"How is Mabel?" + +"Very much overcome." + +"She has no self-control." + +"She is fairly worn out." + +"I am glad Julia is there." + +"Yes, I should not feel easy unless she were. But Talbot himself behaved +very well. He is more of a hand with the boy than the mother is. He +seems bound up in him." + +"Poor fellow!" said Lucy, sympathetically. Her husband did not respond. +"You had better go to bed, dear, and get some sleep," she went on. "You +must need it." + +"I told Julia I would be there before six," said Dr. Wilson, rising. +"She must get some rest then. So if you'll wake me at five--" + +"Of course," said Lucy, who was as certain and much more agreeable than +an alarm clock; "and now go to sleep, and forget it all. You have had a +hard day, you poor fellow!" + +The doctor threw his arm round his wife, as she nestled closer to him, +and they turned with a common impulse to the next room, where there own +only child lay sleeping. Father and mother stood long without a word, +looking at the bright-haired boy, whose healthy breathing came and went +without a sound or a quiver; but when the mother turned to go, the +father lingered still. She did not wait for him, for her exquisite tact +could allow for shyness in a husband as well as in anyone else, and she +had no manner of jealousy of it. If he wanted to say his prayers, or +shed a few tears, or go through any other such sentimental performance +which he would feel ashamed to have her witness, why, by all means let +him have the chance; and she kept on diligently brushing her rich, dark +hair, that he might not find her waiting. + +There was no dramatic scene when little Eugene Talbot was declared out +of danger; it came gradually as blessings are apt to do; but after Dr. +Wilson had informed his wife day after day for a week that the child was +"no worse," he began to report him as "a little better," and finally +somewhat grudgingly to allow that with care there was no reason why he +should not recover. By early springtime the little fellow was playing +about in the sun and air; his sisters had been sent home all well and +blooming, with many a gift from Mrs. Wilson, and their wardrobes bearing +everywhere traces of her dainty handiwork; the mother had overflowed in +tearful thanks, and the father had struggled to speak his in vain. + + * * * * * + +"I wish I knew how small I could decently make Talbot's fee," said Dr. +Wilson, as he sat at his desk, in a half-soliloquising tone, but still +designed to catch his wife's ear, and win her judicious advice. + +But it was not till after he had repeated the words, that she said +without raising her head from her work, while her fingers ran nervously +on, "I will tell you what I should do." + +"Well?" as she paused. + +"I should make out my bill for the usual amount, and send it in +receipted. Won't you, Henry? I wish you would, so very, very much!" she +went on, surprised at the dawning of a look she had never seen before on +his face. + +"That would be hardly treating him like a gentleman," he began; and then +suddenly, "Lucy, how can you keep up such a grudge against Eugene +Talbot?" + +Lucy's work dropped, and she sat looking full at him, her pretty face +white as ashes, and her eyes dilated as if she had heard a voice from +the grave. + +"I know," he resumed, "that he has injured you on the tenderest point on +which a man can injure a woman, but surely you should have got over +thinking of that by this time. Is it noble, is it Christian to bear +malice so long? Can't you be satisfied without crowding down the coals +of fire so very hard upon his head? I never," went on Dr. Wilson, +reflectively, "did like that passage, though it is in the Bible." + +"Oh, Henry!" + +"Put it on a lower ground. Is it just to me? Do you owe me nothing? I +don't forget how much I owe you. You have made the better part of what +little reputation I have; you are proud of it; you would like to have me +more so. But do you suppose I can feel pride in anything earthly, while +another man has the power so to move my wife? You may think you do not +love him now; but where you make a parade of forgiveness, resentment +lingers; and where revenge is hot, love is still warm." + +"Then you knew it all?" gasped Lucy; "but how--how could you ever want +to marry me?" + +"Because, my dear, I loved you--all the time--too well not to be +thankful to get you on any terms. I gave you credit for too much good +sense and high principle to let yourself care for him when you were once +married; and--I am but a poor creature, God knows! but I hoped I could +win your love in time. There, my dear, don't! I knew I could! I am very +sure I did." + +He raised her head from where she had buried it among the sofa pillows, +and let her weep out a flood of the bitterest tears she had ever shed, +on his shoulder. It was long before she could check them enough to +murmur, "Forgive me--only forgive me!" + +"Dearest, we will both of us forget it." + + * * * * * + +"Mr. Talbot wants to see you, ma'am." + +"Is the doctor out?" + +"Yes, ma'am. He did not ask for the doctor. He said he wanted to speak +to you for a minute." + +"Show him into the library, and tell anyone else who calls that I am +engaged for a few moments." + +Mrs. Wilson hastened downstairs, to find her visitor rather nervously +turning over the books on her table. Eugene's once bright chestnut curls +were as thin now as Henry Wilson's sandy locks, and his attire was +elegant with an effort, though he still kept his fine eyes and winning +smile. + +"Won't you sit down?" + +"No, thank you. I only came--I have not much time--I came on +business--if you are not too much engaged?" + +"Not at all," said Lucy, quietly seating herself, which seemed to soothe +her companion's nerves. + +He sat down, too, and began abruptly, "I cannot begin to tell you how +much we owe to your husband!" + +"We have both sympathised so much in your sorrow and anxiety! If he +could do anything at all, I am sure he is only too glad, and so am I." + +"It was not only his saving our child's life, but he has done--I can't +tell you what he has done for us in every way, as if he had been a +brother--" + +Lucy raised her head proudly, with a glad light in her eyes. Eugene +looked at her a moment, and then went on with a sigh; "I couldn't say +this to him, but I must to you, though of course you don't need any +praise I can give him to tell you what he is." + +"No," said Lucy, "it is the greatest happiness of my life to know it--it +would be if no one else did; not but what it is very pleasant to have +him appreciated," she added, smiling. + +"I know," said Eugene, now growing red and confused, "that no recompense +could ever express all we felt. Such services as his are not to be +bought with a price, but I could not feel satisfied if I did not give +him all that was in my power. I shall never rest till I have done +so,--but--the fact is," he hurried on desperately, "I know his charges +are very small--they seem ridiculously so for a man of his +reputation--but the fact is, I am unable just now to meet all my +obligations; the ill-health of my family has been terribly expensive--I +must ask a little time--I am ashamed to do so, but I can do it better +from him than from anyone else--and from you." + +"Oh, don't mention it!" cried Lucy, eagerly, "the sum is a mere trifle +to us; it would not matter if we never had it. To whom should you turn +to be helped or understood, if not to old friends like us?" + +"I hope to be able to pay all my just debts, and this among the first." + +"Oh, of course! but don't feel the least bit hurried about it! Henry +will never think of it till the time comes. He always forgets all about +his bills when they are once out. Wait till it is perfectly convenient." + +"Thank you," said Eugene huskily; "you are all goodness. I have not +deserved this of you." He had already risen to go: but as he drew near +the door he turned back: "Oh, Lucy, don't believe I was ever quite as +heartless as I seemed. I know I treated you in a scoundrelly way, but I +loved you all the time--indeed, indeed, I did." + +"Stop, Mr. Talbot! This is no language for you to use! If you have no +regard for me, recollect at least what is due to your wife." + +"I have nothing to say against Mabel. She's a dear good girl, a great +deal too good for me. It isn't her fault that things have gone against +me. I always felt it was to pay me up for my conduct to you. I loved you +as well as I ever could love anyone; but I was a selfish brute, and +thought to better myself in the world--" + +"Stop, Mr. Talbot! I ought not to hear any more of this! I was too much +overcome by surprise at first to check you, but now I must ask you to +leave me at once if you cannot control yourself." + +"I haven't a word to say that need offend you," said Eugene, humbly. "I +only wanted to ask you to forgive me for old time's sake." + +"There is nothing I know of for me to forgive. I am sorry, for your own +sake, to hear that you ever had such feelings. I never dreamed of them." + +"It seemed to me as if you could not help knowing." + +"Indeed? I don't remember," said Mrs. Wilson, smiling. "I was so +engrossed with my own affairs then, you see," she added with engaging +candour; "and if I thought about you, I supposed you were the same. You +can understand, after what you have seen of Henry, how little attention +a girl who loved him would have to spare for anyone else." + +Eugene assented absently. He was unable to discipline his wandering +memory, which just then was vividly picturing Lucy Morton at her +prettiest, as with a sparkle in her eye and a curl on her lip she had, +for the amusement of them both, flung some gentle sarcasm at "Henny +Wilson." He could still hear her ringing laugh at his affected jealousy +of her neighbour. But those days were past, and there before him sat +Mrs. Wilson, her face lighted up with earnest emotion, grown more lovely +still, and her voice thrilling with a deeper music. He allowed with a +pang of mortification that he was not as clever as he had supposed +himself in sounding the depths of womankind; and then with keener shame +he stifled his incredulous doubts of Dr. Wilson's being able to win and +keep love. "He deserves it all," he said aloud, while still a secret +whisper told him that love does not go by desert. + +"Does he not?" said Lucy. "And now we will not talk of this any more. +You must know how glad we are to be able to give you any little help, +and you must be willing to take it as freely as it is given. I am very +sure that brighter days are coming for Mabel and you; and when they do, +we will all enjoy them together, will we not?" + +"You are an angel," said Eugene, taking the hand she held out; and then +he let it go and turned away without another word. Lucy stood looking +after him a longer time than she usually allowed herself to waste in +revery; and then, starting, hastened off intent on household duties. + +"Why are these boots in such a condition?" she asked, in a more emphatic +tone than was her wont to use to her servants, as a muddy pair in her +back entry caught her eye. + +"I am very sorry, ma'am. I brought them down here to be cleaned, but +Crossman has gone, as you ordered, to take Mrs. Talbot a little drive, +and James is out with the doctor somewhere, and there are two clean pair +in his dressing-room. Shall I black these, ma'am?" inquired the highly +trained parlour maid, who would have gone down on her very knees to +scrub the stable floor at a hint that such a proceeding might be +agreeable to Dr. Wilson. + +"Oh, no; never mind," said her mistress, carelessly; but when the girl +had gone, she stooped and, picking up the boots, bore them to her own +room, and bringing blacking also, cleaned and blacked them all over in +the neatest manner, with her own delicate hands. + +"I know I'm not worthy to black Henry's boots," she thought to herself, +as a tear or two, which she made haste to rub away, dropped on their +polished surface; "but I can do them well, at least. No one shall ever +say that I have not made him a good wife!" + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +THREE CUPS OF TEA + + + "Mrs. Samuel N. Brackett, at home Wednesday, December Tenth, + from four to seven, 3929 Commonwealth Avenue." + + * * * * * + + "Miss Caldwell, Wednesdays, Mount Vernon Street, December + 10th, 4.30-6.30." + + * * * * * + + "100 CHARLESGATE, EAST. + + "DEAREST CARRIE: + + "I am obliged to give up the Bracketts'. Mother went and + asked Dr. Thomas if I could go, and he said, of course not. + I was so provoked, for if she hadn't spoken of it, he would + never have dreamed of forbidding me to go out--he never + does. Most likely he never imagines that anybody will go + anywhere if they are not obliged to. Now that I am not + going, mother won't go herself. She wants to go to Cousin + Jane's little tea. She says they are so far apart she can't + do both. So stupid in Cousin Jane to put hers the same day + as the Bracketts'--but I dare say she will have a sufficient + number of her own set to fill up. I doubt if she gets many + of the girls. You are so soft-hearted that I dare say you + will struggle for both. Do get through in time to drop in + here any time after half-past six. I am going to have a few + girls to tea in my room to cheer me up and tell me all about + the Bracketts'. They have asked everyone they possibly can, + and I dare say everyone will go to see what it is like. I am + sure I would if I could. Remember you must come. + + "Ever your + "GRACE G. D. + "_Tuesday P.M._" + +As Miss Caroline Foster, after lunch on the tenth of December, inspected +the cards and notes which encircled her mirror in a triple row, she +selected these three as calling for immediate attention. Of course she +meant to go to all: when was she ever known to refuse an invitation? +Though young and pretty, well connected and well dowered, and far from +stupid, she occupied in society the position of a down-trodden pariah or +over-worked galley-slave, for the reason that she never could say no to +anyone. She had nothing--money, time, sympathy--that was not at the +service of anyone who chose to beg or borrow them. At parties she put up +with the left-over partners, and often had none--for even the young men +had found out that she could always be had when wanted. Perhaps this was +the reason why, with all her prettiness and property, she was not +already appropriated in marriage. Of course she had hosts of friends, +who all despised her; but one advantage she did enjoy, for which others +might have been willing to barter admiration and respect; no one, man, +woman, or child, was ever heard to speak harshly to Caroline Foster, or +to say anything against her. Malice itself must have blushed to say that +she was too complying, and malice itself could think of nothing else. + +This tenth of December marked an uncommon event in her experience, for +on it she had, for the first time in her life, made up her mind to +refuse an asked-for gift; and the consciousness of this piece of spirit, +and of a beautiful new costume of dark-blue velvet trimmed with otter +fur, which set off her fair hair and fresh face to perfection, gave her +an air of unwonted stateliness as she stepped into a handsome coupé and +drove off alone. She was by no means an independent or unguarded young +woman; but her aunt, with whom she lived, had two committee meetings +that afternoon, and told Caroline that she might just as well go to Miss +Caldwell's little tea for ladies only, alone. They would meet at Mrs. +Brackett's; and if they didn't they could tell everyone they were trying +to--which would do just as well. + +Miss Caldwell lived in an old house on Mount Vernon Street which gave +the impression that people had forgotten to pull it down because it was +so small; but within it looked spacious, as it sheltered only one lady +and two maids. Everything about it had an air of being fresh and faded +at once. The little library in front was warm dull olive-green; and the +dining-room at the back soft deep grey-blue; and the drawing-room, up +one flight of an unexpected staircase, was rich dark brick-red--all very +soothing to the eye. They were full of family portraits, and old brass +and pewter, and Japanese cabinets, and books bound in dimly gilded +calf-skin, and India chintzes, all of which were Miss Caldwell's by +inheritance. Even sunlight had a subdued effect in these rooms; and now +they were lighted chiefly by candles, and none too brilliantly. + +Miss Caldwell had been receiving her guests in the drawing-room; but +there were not many, and being a lady accustomed to do as she pleased, +she had followed them down to the dining-room, which was just +comfortably full. Conversation was, as it were, forced to be general, +and the whole room heard Mrs. Spofford remark that "Malcolm Johnson +would be a very poor match for Caroline Foster." + +"Caroline Foster and Malcolm Johnson, is that an engagement?" asked the +stout, good-natured Mrs. Manson, who was tranquilly eating her way +through the whole assortment of biscuits and bonbons on the table. +"Well, Caroline is a dear, sweet girl--just the kind to make a good wife +for a widower." + +"With five children to start with, and no means that I know of!" said +Miss Caldwell, scornfully. "I am sure I hope not!" + +"I have heard it on the best authority," said the first speaker. + +"It will take better authority than that to make me believe it." + +"If he proposes to her," said Mrs. Manson, "I should say she would take +him. I never knew Caroline to say no to anyone." + +"Well," said Miss Caldwell, "I suppose it's natural for a woman to be a +fool in such matters--for most women," she corrected herself; "but if +Caroline marries Malcolm Johnson I shall think her _too_ foolish--and +she has never seemed to me to be lacking in sense." + +"Perhaps," said the pourer out of tea, a pretty damsel with large dark +eyes, a little faded to match the room--"perhaps she wants a sphere." + +"As if her aunt could not find her fifty spheres if she wanted them!" + +"Too many, perhaps," said a tall lady with a sensible, school-teaching +air. "I have sometimes thought that Mrs. Neal, with managing all her own +children's families and her charities, had not much time or thought to +spare for poor little Caroline. She is kind to her, but I doubt if she +gives her much attention." + +"A woman likes something of her own," said Mrs. Manson. + +"Her own!" said Miss Caldwell. "How much good of her own is she likely +to have if she marries Malcolm Johnson?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Spofford, "his motives would be plain enough; I dare +say he's in love with her. Caroline is a lovely girl, but of course in +such a case her money goes for something." + +"But she has not so very much money," said Mildred, dropping a lump of +sugar into a cup--"plenty, I suppose, for herself, but it would not +support a large family like Mr. Johnson's." + +"It would pay his taxes, my dear, and buy his coal," said Miss Caldwell, +"and he has kept house long enough to appreciate the help _that_ would +be." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Manson, "coal is so terribly high this winter!" + +"It would be a saving for him to marry anybody," said a thin lady with a +sweet smile, slightly soiled gloves, and her bonnet rather on one side. +"He tells me that his housekeepers are no end of trouble. He is always +changing them, and his children are running wild with it all. He's a +very old friend of mine," she added with a conscious air. + +"They are very troublesome children," said Miss Caldwell. "I hear them +crying a great deal." + +"Poor little things!--they need training," said Mrs. Manson. + +"Caroline would never train them; she is too amiable." + +"They have so much illness," said Mrs. Eames, the "old friend." "Poor +Malcolm tells me he is afraid that little Willie has incipient spine +complaint; he is in pain most of the time. The poor child was always +delicate, and his mother watched him most carefully. She was a most +painstaking mother, poor thing, though I don't imagine there was much +congeniality between her and Malcolm. I wish I could do something for +them, but I have _such_ a family of my own." + +"Someone ought to warn Caroline," said Miss Caldwell. "I wonder he has +the audacity to ask her. If he wasn't a widower he wouldn't dare to." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Miss Mildred, "her loving him in spite of +all his drawbacks would seem more natural." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Manson, "he wouldn't have the +drawbacks, you know." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Eames, "he might not be so anxious +to marry her. Good-by, dear Miss Caldwell. Such a delightful tea! I may +take some little cakes to the dear children?" + +"Good-by," said Mrs. Manson, swallowing her last macaroon. She turned +back as she reached the doorway; and her ample figure, completely +filling it up, gave opportunity for a young lady who had been standing +in the shadow of the staircase to dart across the hall unseen. Miss +Caroline Foster had sought her hostess in the drawing-room, but finding +it empty, had come downstairs again, and had been obliged to listen to +the conversation, which she had not the courage to interrupt; and she +now threw on her wrap and rushed past the astonished maid out of the +house before Mrs. Manson's slow progress could reach the cloak-room. + + * * * * * + +At half-past five o'clock the Brackett tea was in full swing. The +occupants of the carriages at the end of the long file were getting out +and walking to the door, and some of the more prudent were handing in +their cards and departing, judging from the crush that if their chance +of getting in was but small, their chance of getting away was none at +all. The Bracketts were at home; but of their home there was nothing to +be seen for the crowd, except the blazing chandeliers overhead, the +high-hung modern French pictures in heavy gilded frames, the intricate +draperies of costly stuffs and laces at the tops of the tall windows, +here and there the topmost spray of some pyramid or bank of flowers, and +the upper part of the immense mirrors which reflected over and over what +they could catch of the scene. The hostess was receiving in the middle +drawing-room; but it was a work of time and pains to get so far as to +obtain a view of the sparkling aigret in her hair. A meagre, carefully +dressed woman had accomplished this duty, and might now fairly be +getting off and leaving her place for someone else; yet she lingered +near the door of the outer room, loath to depart, looking with an +anxious eye for familiar faces, with an uneasy incipient smile waiting +for the occasion to call out. Sometimes it grew more marked, and she +made a tentative step forward; and if the person went by with scant +greeting or none at all, she would draw back and patiently repair it for +future use. For the one or two who stopped to speak to her she kept it +carefully up to, but not beyond, a certain point, while still her +restless eye strayed past them in search of better game. Just as she had +exchanged a warmer greeting than her wont with a quiet, lady-like woman +who was forced on inward by the crowd, she was startled by a smart tap +on her shoulder, and as she turned sharp round towards the wall, the +rich brocade window-curtains waved, and a low voice was heard from +behind them. + +"Come in here, won't you, Miss Snow?" + +Miss Martha Snow, bewildered, drew aside the heavy folds, and found +herself face to face with a richly arrayed, distinguished-looking, +though _passée_ woman, who had settled herself comfortably on the +cushioned seat between the lace curtains without and the silk within. + +"My dear Mrs. Freeman! how do you do? How you did frighten me!" + +"I have been trying to get at you for an age," said Mrs. Thorndike +Freeman, laughing. "I thought you would never have done falling into the +arms of that horrid Hapgood woman." + +"I could not help it. She would keep me. She is one of those people you +can't shake off, you know." + +"I! _I_ don't know her." + +"But why are you here, out of sight of everyone? Are you waiting for a +chance to get at Mrs. Brackett?" hurried on Miss Snow. + +"I'm waiting for a chance to get away from her. I would not be seen +speaking to her for any consideration whatever." + +"I--I _was_ surprised to meet you here!" + +"I came because I wanted to see what it would be like, but I had no +conception it would be so bad. Did you ever see such a set as she has +collected?" + +"It does seem mixed." + +"Unmixed, I should call it. I have been waiting for half an hour to see +a soul of my acquaintance. Sit down here, and let us have a nice talk." + +A nice talk with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman foreboded a dead cut from her +the next time you met her; for she never took anyone up without as +violently putting them down again--and then there was no one now to see +and envy. However, Miss Snow dared not refuse, and seating herself with +a conciliatory, frightened air, somewhat like a little dog in the cage +of a lioness, asked in timid tones: + +"Why do you stay? Is not your carriage here?" + +"I want to get something to eat first," said Mrs. Freeman, "for I +suppose their spread is something indescribable." + +"Oh, quite! The whole middle of the table is a mass of American Beauty +roses as large as--as cabbages, and around that a bank of mignonette +like--like small cauliflowers, and all over beneath it is covered with +hothouse maiden-hair ferns, and----" + +"And what's the grub?" + +"I--did not eat much; I only wanted to see it; but I had a delicious +little _paté_--chicken done in cream, somehow; and I saw aspic jelly +with something in it handed round; and the ices--they are all in floral +devices, water lilies floating on spun sugar, and roses in gold baskets, +and cherries tied in bunches with ribbons, and grapes lying on tinted +Bohemian glass leaves--and------" + +"It sounds appetising. I'll wait till I see a man that doesn't know me, +and he shall get me some. I don't want it known that I ever entered +their doors." + +"Shall I not go back to the dining-room and send a waiter to you?" + +"No, indeed--he would be sure to know me, and I should get put on the +list." + +"The stationers who sent out the invitations will do that." + +"Oh, well--I can only say I never came. But the waiter would swear to +me, and very likely describe my dress. No, I shall wait a little longer. +Stay here and keep me company." + +"Oh, it will be delightful!" quavered Miss Snow, though worrying at the +prospect of getting away late on foot, and ill able to afford cab-hire. + +"You've heard of the engagement, I suppose?" + +"Which of them?" asked Miss Snow, skilfully hedging. + +"Why, the only one, so far as I know. Why, haven't you heard? Ralph +Underwood and Winnie Parke." + +"Oh, yes! has that come out? I have been away from home for a few days, +and had not heard. Very pleasant, I'm sure." + +"Very--for her. It was her sister who did it, Mrs. Al Smith. She's a +very clever young woman; fished for Al herself in the most barefaced +way, and now she's caught Ralph for her sister; and she's not nearly so +good-looking, either, Winnie Parke, though I should say she had a better +temper than Margaret. You know Margaret Smith of course?" + +"Not very well," said Miss Snow, deprecatingly. "I thought when you +spoke of an engagement you meant Malcolm Johnson and Caroline Foster." + +"That never will be an engagement!" said Mrs. Freeman scornfully. + +"Oh! I am very glad to hear you say so--only I have met him so much +there lately, and it quite worried me; it would be such a bad thing for +dear Caroline; she is a sweet girl." + +"You need not worry about it any longer, for I know positively that she +has refused him." + +"I am very glad. I was so afraid that Caroline--she is so amiable a +girl, you know, and so apt to do what people tell her to--I was afraid +she might say yes for fear of hurting his feelings." + +"She would never dream of his having feelings--her position is so +different. Why, Caroline is a cousin of my own." + +"Oh, yes, of course--only he would doubtless be so much in love; and +many people think him delightful--he _was_ very handsome." + +"Before Caroline was born, maybe. No, no, Caroline has plenty of sense, +though she looks so gentle--and then the family would never hear of it. +His affairs are in a shocking condition. Why, you know what he lost in +Atchison--and I happen to know that his other investments are in a very +shaky condition." + +"He has that handsome house." + +"Mortgaged, my dear, mortgaged up to its full value. No, he's badly +off--and then there are such discreditable rumours about him; Thorndike +knows all about it." + +"Dear me! I never heard anything against his character." + +"I could tell you plenty," said Mrs. Freeman, with a little shrug. "And +then he drinks, or at least he probably will end in drinking--they +always do when they are driven desperate. Oh, no, Caroline is a cousin +of mine, and a most charming girl. Don't for heaven's sake hint at such +a thing." + +"Oh, I assure you, I never have. I am always so careful." + +"Yes, I never say a thing that I am not certain is true," said Mrs. +Freeman, yawning. "Why, where do all these lovely youths come from? Ah! +I see; past six o'clock; the shop is closed, and they have turned the +clerks on duty here. Well, now, I can get something to eat, for I never +buy anything of them. Tell that one over there to come to me, the +light-haired one, I mean; he looks strong and good-humoured." + +As Miss Snow rose to obey this order, a fair-haired girl in a dark-blue +velvet gown, who on entering had been pinned close against the wall +within hearing by the crowd, made a frantic struggle for freedom, and +succeeded in reaching the entrance hall, to the amazement of the other +guests, who did not look for such a display of strength in so +gentle-looking and painfully blushing a creature. + + * * * * * + +At half-past six a select party was assembling in Miss Grace Deane's own +room, the prettiest room, it was said, in Boston, in the handsomest of +the new Charlesgate houses; a corner room, with a bright sunny outlook +over the long extent of waterside gardens. The high wainscot, the +chimney-piece, the bed on its alcoved and curtained _haut pas_ were of +cherry wood, the natural colour, carved with elaborate and unwearied +fancy; and its rich hue showed here and there round the Persian rugs on +the floor. At the top of the wall was a painted frieze of cherry boughs +in bloom, with now and then one loaded with fruit peeping through, and +the same idea was imitated in the chintzes. The wall space left was +papered in a shade of spring green so delicate and elusive that no one +could decide whether it verged on gold or silver, almost hidden with +close-hung water colours and autotypes; and the ceiling showed between +cherry beams an even softer tint in daintily stained woods. The Minton +tiles around the fireplace and lining the little adjoining bathroom were +all in different designs of pale green and white sparingly dashed with +coral pink. There were sofas and low chairs and bookcases and cabinets +and a tiny piano and a writing-desk and a drawing-table, and a +work-table and yet more tables, all covered with smaller objects. +Useless, and especially cheap, bric-à-brac was Miss Deane's abomination, +but everything she used was exquisite. The bed and dressing-table were +covered with finest linen, drawn and fretted by the needle, into filmy +gossamer; and from the latter came a subdued glitter of a hundred silver +trifles of the toilet, beaten and chiselled like the fine foamy crest of +the wave. + +Miss Deane, the owner of this pretty room, for whom and by whom it had +been devised and decked with abundant means held well in check by taste, +was very seldom in it. The Deanes had two country houses, and they spent +a great deal of time abroad, and in the winter they often went to +California or Florida or Bermuda; and when they were at their town +houses they were usually out. But Miss Deane did sometimes sleep there, +and when she had a cold and had to keep in she could not but look around +it with gratification. It certainly was a pleasant room to give a little +tea in. Its being her bedroom only made the effect more piquant. She +believed the ladies of the last century used to have tea in their +bedrooms; and this was quite in antique style--yes, the tea-table and +some of the chairs were real antiques. By the time she had arranged the +flowers to her taste and sat down arrayed in a tea-gown of rose-coloured +China crape and white lace to make tea in a Dresden service with little +rosebuds for handles, she felt quite well again, and ready to greet a +dozen or so of her dearest friends, who ran upstairs unannounced and +threw off their own wraps on the lace-covered bed. + +Some of these young women were beautiful, and all looked pretty, their +charms equalised by their clothes and manners. They had all been on the +most intimate terms with each other from babyhood, and they had the +eagerness to please anyone and everyone, characteristic of the American +girl. Each talked to the other as if that other were a lover, and they +had the sweetest smiles for the maid. + +"So it was pleasant at the Bracketts'?" asked Grace, beginning to fill +her cups. + +"Oh, delightful!" exclaimed the whole circle; "that is"--with modified +energy--"it was crowded of course, and very hot, and it was hard to get +at people, and there was no time to talk when you did; but everybody was +there," they concluded with revived spirit. + +"I was not there," sighed Mildred; "I had to make tea for Miss +Caldwell--mother said I must--and some of the people stayed so late that +it was no use thinking of the other place, though I put on this gown to +be all ready. I thought it would do to pour out at such a little +tea"--surveying her pale fawn cloth gown dashed with dark velvet worked +in gold. + +"Oh, perfectly! most appropriate!" said the others. + +"Who else poured out?" said Grace. + +"Why, she told me that Caroline Foster was coming, and I was so +delighted; but when I got there I found Mrs. Neal had sent a note saying +she could not allow Caroline to give up the Bracketts' altogether; and +Miss Caldwell had invited that Miss Leggett, whom I hardly know--wasn't +it unpleasant? And she wore regular full dress, pink India silk and +chiffon, cut very low--the effect was dreadful!" + +"Horrid!" murmured her sympathising friends. + +"Caroline was there, I suppose?" queried one. + +"No--she never came at all." + +"Probably she went to the Bracketts' first, and couldn't get away," said +Grace. "I wonder she isn't here by this time. Who saw her there?" +General silence was the sole answer, and she looked round her only to +have it re-inforced by a more emphatic "I didn't." + +"Why, she must have been there! She told me she should surely go. How +odd--" but her words died away, and the group regarded each other with +looks of awe, till one daring young woman broke the spell with, "Do you +think--can it be possible--that she's really engaged?" + +"To Mr. Johnson?" broke out the whole number. "Oh! I hope not! It would +be shocking--dreadful--too bad!" + +"We shouldn't see a thing of her; she would be so tied down," murmured +Dorothy Chandler, almost in tears. + +"Everyone who marries is tied down, for that matter," cheerfully +remarked a blooming young matron, who had been the rounds of the teas. +"I assure you," she went on, nibbling a chocolate peppermint with +relish, "I am doing an awful thing myself in being here at this hour; +aren't you, Anna?"--addressing a mate in like condition, who blushed, +conscience-stricken as she said, "Perhaps Caroline is in love with Mr. +Johnson." + +"I don't see how any one can fall in love with a widower," said Mildred. + +"That depends on the widower," said the pretty Mrs. Blanchard. "I do +think Mr. Johnson is rather too far gone." + +"Oh, yes," said Mildred; "he looks so--so--I don't know how to express +it." + +"What you would call dowdy if he were a woman," said her more +experienced friend. "He looks as if he wanted a wife; but I don't see +why someone else would not do as well as Caroline--some respectable +maiden lady who could sew on his buttons and make his children stand +round. I don't think Caroline would be of the least use to him." + +"It would be almost impossible to keep her up," said Grace. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Blanchard; "I'm very fond of Caroline, but I'm afraid I +could never get Bertie up to the point of intimacy with Malcolm Johnson; +he thinks him underbred--says his hats show it." + +"Is your tea too strong, Harriet, dear? There is no hot water left," +said Grace, ringing her little silver bell with energy. But no one came. +"I told Marguerite to keep in the sewing-room, in hearing," she went on, +ringing it again. + +"I thought I heard her at the door just now," said the outermost of the +circle. + +"_Would_ you mind looking, dear? If she's not there I'll ring the other +bell for someone from downstairs." + +No Marguerite was at the door, the sounds laid to her charge having been +caused by the precipitate retreat of a young lady who had come late and, +running quickly upstairs unannounced, had paused at the room door to +recover her breath, and had just time to do so and to fly downstairs +again and out of the house without encountering anyone. + +Caroline--for it was she--hurried round the corner; for her home was so +near that she had dismissed her carriage. The house was empty and dark. +Mrs. Neal had gone to spend the evening with one of her married +daughters and had not thought it necessary to provide any dinner at +home. There was no neglect in this. There were plenty of cousins at +whose houses Caroline could have dined and welcome; or if she did not +choose to do so, there was abundance in the larder, and if her teas had +left her any appetite she had but to give the order herself and sit +down alone to her cold meat and bread and butter. As we know, her teas +had been feasts of Tantalus; but she did not feel hungry--for food. She +hastened up to her room without a word to the maid, lighted her gas, +took a key from her watch-chain, opened her writing-desk, and took out a +letter which she read, not for the first time, with attention. + + "MOUNT VERNON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MISS FOSTER: + + "You will, I am afraid, be surprised at what I am going to + say. Perhaps you will blame me for writing it, and perhaps + you will blame me for saying it at all. I know it is an act + of presumption in me to ask one so beautiful, so young and + untrammelled by care, to link her fortunes with mine: but I + do it because I cannot help it. I love you so much that I am + unable to turn my thoughts to my most pressing duties till I + have at least tried my fate with you; and yet my hopes are + so faint that I cannot venture to ask you in any way but + this. + + "Don't think I love you less because I have so many other + claimants for my affections; any more than I love them less + because I love you. My poor children have no mother; I could + never ask any woman to take that place to them unless we + could both feel sure that ours was no mere match of + convenience; but I could not love anyone unless she had the + tenderness of nature which belongs to a true mother. I + never saw any girl in whom it showed so plainly as in you. + Your angelic sweetness and gentleness are to me, who have + seen something of the rough side of life, unspeakably + beautiful. I know I am not worthy of you in any way; but it + sometimes seems to me that appreciating you so thoroughly as + I do must make me a little so. + + "Your family will very likely object to me on the score of + want of means. I am fully aware that I cannot give you such + advantages in that respect as you have a right to expect, + even if I were much richer than I am ever likely to be; but + I am not so poorly off as they may suppose. I own the house + in which I live, free of encumbrance, and I should like to + settle it upon you. I do not know whether your property is + secured to your separate use or not; but I should wish to + have it so in any case. If my life and health are spared, I + have no fears that I shall not be able to support my family + in comfort. I know you will have to give up a great deal in + the way of society; and I cannot promise that you shall have + no cares, but I can and do promise that you will make us all + very happy. + + "I still fear my chances are but small; but do, I entreat + you, take time to think over this. No matter what your + answer may be, I am and ever shall be + + "Your faithful and devoted + "MALCOLM JOHNSON. + "_December 8, 189-._" + +After Caroline had read this letter twice, she drew out another, +spotless and freshly written, and breaking the seal, read: + + "BEACON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MR. JOHNSON: + + "I was very sorry to receive your letter this morning. Pray + don't think I blame you for writing--but indeed you think + much too highly of me. I am not at all fitted to assume such + serious duties as being at the head of your family would + involve, and it would only be a disappointment to you if I + did. I have had no experience, and I should feel it wrong to + undertake it, even if I could return your generous affection + as it deserves. Indeed, I don't value money, or any of those + things; but I do not want to give up my friends and all my + own ways of life, unless I loved you. I am so sorry I + can't--but surely you will not blame me, for I never dreamed + of this, or I would have tried to let you know my thoughts + sooner. + + "I am sure my aunt would disapprove. Highly as she esteems + you, she would think me too young, and not at all the right + kind of wife for you. I shall not breathe a word to her or + to anyone, and I hope you will soon forget this, and find + some one who will really be a good wife to you and a devoted + mother to your children. No one will be more delighted at + this than + + "Your sincere friend, + "CAROLINE ALICE FOSTER. + "_December 9, 189-._" + +This letter, which Caroline had spent three hours in writing, and copied +six times, she now tore into small pieces and threw them into the +fireplace. The fire was out, and the grate was black, so she lighted a +match and watched till every scrap was consumed to ashes, when she sat +down at her desk and, heedless of the chilly room, wrote with a flying +pen: + + "BEACON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MR. JOHNSON: + + "Pray forgive me that I have been so long in answering your + letter. I could not decide such an important matter in + haste. Indeed you think more highly of me than you ought; + but if such a foolish, ignorant girl as I am can make you + happy, and you are sure you are not mistaken, I will try to + return your love as it deserves. I have not much experience + with children; but I will do my best to make yours love me, + and it will surely be better for the dear little things than + to have no mother at all. + + "I dare say my aunt will think me very presumptuous to + undertake so responsible a position; but she will not oppose + me when she knows my heart is concerned,--and I am of age, + and have a right to decide for myself. I shall be so glad of + some real duties to make my idle, aimless life really useful + to someone. I don't care for wealth, and as for society, I + am heartily tired of it. The only fear I have is that you + are over-rating me; but it is so pleasant to be loved so + much that I will not blame you for it. + + "I am ever yours sincerely, + "CAROLINE ALICE FOSTER. + "_December 10, 189-._" + +If Caroline, by writing this letter, constituted herself a lunatic in +the judgment of all her friends, it must be allowed, as Miss Caldwell +had said, that she was not quite lacking in sense. Unlike either a fool +or the heroine of a novel, she rang the bell for no servant, sent for no +messenger, but when she had sealed and stamped her letter she tripped +downstairs with it and, having slipped back the latch as she opened the +door, walked as far as the nearest post-box and dropped it in herself. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE TRAMPS' WEDDING + + "They know no country, own no lord. + Their home the camp, their law the sword." + + +"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Reed, as her husband entered her sitting-room; +with some curiosity, pardonable in view of the fact that a stranger had +for some time been holding an interview with him in his study. + +"Why," replied the Reverend Richard Reed, looking mildly absent, as was +his custom when interrupted of a Saturday morning, "it is a Mr. Perley +Pickens--the man, you know, who has taken the Maynard place for the +summer." + +"Indeed! what did he want?" cried the lady, interested at once. The +Maynard house was the great house of the place, and the Maynard family +the magnates of the First Parish, and the whole town of Rutland. Their +going abroad for a year or two had been felt as a public loss, and when, +somewhat to the general surprise, it transpired that their house was +let, it was at once surmised that it could only be to "nice" people, +though the new occupants had never been heard of, and were rarely seen. + +"Oh, his daughter is to be married, and he wants the ceremony to take +place in our church." + +"You don't say so? and he wants you to marry them?" + +"Certainly." + +"Why, we haven't had a wedding in the church for quite a while! It will +be very nice, won't it?" + +"Yes, my dear; but excuse me, I am in a hurry just now. Mr. Pickens is +waiting. He wants you to give him a few addresses. I gave him the +sexton's----" + +"It will be a good thing for poor Langford," said Mrs. Reed, +benevolently. + +"Yes--" drawled the Reverend Richard, still abstractedly, "very good; +and he wants a Boston caterer, and a florist. I know nothing about such +things, and I told him I'd ask you, though I did not believe you did, +either." + +"Oh, yes, I do! Mrs. Maynard always has Rossi, and as for a florist, +they must have John Wicks, at the corner here. He's just set up, and it +will be such a chance for him." + +"Do you think he will do? Mr. Pickens said that expense was no +object--that everything must be in style, as he phrased it." + +"Oh, he'll do! Anyone will do, at this season. Why, they could decorate +the church, and house too, from their own place; but I shan't suggest +that." + +"Very well, my dear--but I am keeping Mr. Pickens waiting." + +"I'll go and speak to him myself," said the lady, excitedly; and she +tripped into the study, where the guest was sitting, with his hat on his +knees; a tall, narrow-shouldered man, with a shifty eye. Somehow the +sight of him was disappointing, she could hardly tell why, for he rose +to greet her very politely, and thanked her effusively. + +"My wife will be most grateful, I am sure--most grateful for your +kindness. It will save her so much trouble." + +"Here are the addresses you want," said Mrs. Reed, hastily scratching +them off at her husband's desk, "and if Mrs. Pickens wants any others, I +shall be happy to be of use to her." + +"Thank you! thank you! You see, she's a stranger here, and doesn't know +anything about it." + +"You have not been in this part of the country before?" + +"No--oh, no, I come from Clarinda, Iowa. At least, I always register +from there, though I haven't any house there now; and my present wife +was a Missouri woman, though she's never lived in the State much. I had +to be in Boston on business this summer, so thought I'd take a place +outside, and Mr. Bowles, the real estate agent, said this was the +handsomest going, and the country first-rate; but my wife's a little +disappointed." + +"I suppose, if she has travelled so much, she has seen a great deal of +fine scenery--but this is generally thought a pretty place." + +"Yes, certainly--very rustic, though, ain't it?" + +"I suppose so," said his hearer, a little puzzled, while for the first +time her husband looked up, alert and amused. "I will call on Mrs. +Pickens," she hastened to say, "if she would like to see me." + +"Yes, certainly; delighted, I'm sure; yes, she'd be delighted to see +you, and so would Miss Minnie, too." + +"What a very queer man!" thought Mrs. Reed. But she only smiled sweetly, +and made a little move, as if the interview were fairly over. Her +visitor, however, did not seem inclined to depart, and after a moment's +silence began again. + +"And there's another thing; if you would be so very kind as to +recommend--I mean, introduce--we know so few people here, and Miss +Minnie wants everything very stylish; perhaps you know some nice young +men who would like to be ushers; I believe that is what they are called. +It would be a good thing for them to be seen at; everything in +first-class style, you know." + +The Reverend Richard, whose attention was now thoroughly aroused, beamed +full on the speaker a guileless smile, while his wife thoughtfully +murmured, "Let me see; do you expect a great many people?" + +"Oh, no, we don't know many round here; but if you and your family, and +the ushers and their families, would come to the house, it would make +quite a nice little company. As to the church--anyone that liked--it +would be worth seeing." + +"I can find some ushers," said Mrs. Reed, still musing; "two at least; +that will be enough, I should think." + +"And then," murmured Mr. Pickens, as if checking off a mental list, +"there is a young man to go with the bridegroom, I believe. I never had +one, but Miss Minnie says it's the fashion." + +"Oh, yes, a 'best man!'" explained his hostess, "but--the bridegroom +usually selects one of his intimate friends for that." + +"I don't believe Mr. MacJacobs has any friends; round here, that is. He +came from Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania, but he's never been there since he +was a boy. He's been in New Orleans, and then in Europe, as travelling +agent for MacVickar & Company. I suppose you've heard of _them_." + +"I dare say I can find a best man." + +"Thank you. You are very kind; yes, very kind indeed, I'm sure." + +"I presume," interposed the host, in bland accents, "you wish to give +away the bride yourself?" + +"Yes!" said Mr. Pickens, starting; "oh, yes, I suppose I can, if there's +not too much to do. Should I have to say anything?" + +"Scarcely," replied the clergyman, reassuringly. "I ask a question to +which you are supposed to reply, but a nod will be quite sufficient. The +bridegroom is generally audible, and sometimes the bride, but I have +never heard a sound proceed from the bride's father." + +"Very good--very good; it will be very pleasant to join in your service, +I am sure. Many thanks to you for your kind advice. I will now take my +leave," and after a jerking bow or two he departed, with a sort of +fluttering, bird-like step. The pastor laughed, but his wife looked +sober. + +"Our friend is as amusing a specimen as I ever encountered," he began. + +"Amusing! I call him disgusting, with his 'Miss Minnie 'and 'take his +leave.' He can't be a gentleman; there is something very suspicious +about the whole affair." + +"Indeed! and what do you suspect?" + +"I don't believe there's a wedding at all. Perhaps he's an impostor who +wants to get in here to steal." + +"Do you miss anything?" + +"No," said the lady, after a peep into her dining-room. "I can't say I +do. But he may come back on this pretended wedding business. Are you +sure that he really is Mr. Perley Pickens?" + +"Why, yes. I have never spoken to him before, but I have seen him at the +post-office, opening his box, and again at the station. I cannot be +mistaken in that walk of his." + +"Well, he may be the head of a gang of thieves, and have taken the house +and got up this scheme of a wedding for some end of his own." + +"Such as what?" + +"Why, to cheat somebody, somehow. I am sure you will never get a wedding +fee for it; and he may not pay any of the bills, and the people may +bother us." + +"He gave me the name of his Boston bankers, May & Maxwell, to whom he +said I could refer the tradespeople, if they wished it, 'being a +stranger here himself,' as he justly remarked. But whom, my dear, do +you expect to provide for ushers or best man?" + +"Oh, for ushers, the Crocker boys will do. They will be glad of +something to amuse them in vacation." + +"Are they not rather young? Fred can hardly be eighteen yet." + +"Well! he is six feet and over. One needn't tell his age; and as for +best man, I think William Winchester wouldn't mind it--to oblige me." + +"But why, my love, since you are so distrustful, are you so anxious to +be of use in this matter?" + +"Why!" echoed his wife, triumphantly; "it's the best way to encourage +them to go on, and then, don't you see? if they have any dishonest +designs, they'll be the sooner exposed; and then--I do want to see what +the end of it all will be--don't you?" + +In pursuance of these ideas, Mrs. Reed, next afternoon, put on her best +bonnet, and went to call on the ladies of the Pickens family. The +gardens and shrubberies of the Maynard house, always beautiful, yet +showed already the want of the master's eye. The servant who opened the +door was of an inferior grade, and the drawing-room, stripped of Mrs. +Maynard's personal belongings, looked bare and cold. Mrs. Reed sat and +sighed for her old friend full quarter of an hour, before a pale, slim, +pretty girl, much dressed, and with carefully crimped locks, came in +with, "It's very kind in you to call. Aunt Delia's awfully sorry to keep +you waiting, but she'll be down directly." + +"I am very glad to see you," said Mrs. Reed, looking with some attention +at the probable bride-elect. + +"Aunt Delia was sitting in her dressing-sack. She generally does, +day-times. It's so much trouble to dress, she thinks. Now I think it's +something to do; there isn't much else, here." + +"This is a lovely place. I always admire it afresh every time I come +here." + +"It's lonesome; but then, it's pleasant enough for a little while. I +never care to stay long in any one place. I've lived in about a hundred +since I can recollect; and I wouldn't take a house in any one of 'em for +a gift, if I had to live in it." + +"Perhaps you may feel differently when you have a house of your own." + +"Well, that's one of the things Mr. MacJacobs and I quarrel about. I +want to board, and he wants to take a flat. I tell him I'll do that, if +he'll get one where we can dine at the table d'hote. That's about as +easy as boarding. As like as not, when we get settled, he'll have to go +off somewhere else; but if he is willing to pay for it himself, why, let +him! Here's Aunt Delia," she suddenly added, as a fresh rustle +announced the entrance of a stout lady, also very handsomely attired, +and carrying a large fan, which she waved to and fro, slowly but +steadily, gazing silently over it at her visitor, whom Minnie introduced +with some explanation, after which she remarked that it was "awfully +hot." + +"It is warm; but I have not found it unpleasant. I really enjoyed my +walk here." + +"Did you walk?" asked her hostess, with more interest. + +"Oh, yes; it is not more than a mile here from the church; and the +parsonage is but a step farther." + +"A mile!" + +"I am very glad," said Mrs. Reed, well trained, as became her position, +in the art of filling gaps in talk, and striking out on new lines, "to +find you at home, and Miss--I beg your pardon, but I have not heard your +niece's name. Mr. Reed thought she was your daughter." + +"Oh, Minnie isn't my niece!" exclaimed the hostess, laughing, as if +roused to some sense of amusement, which Minnie shared; "she's an +adopted daughter of Mr. Webb's second wife!" + +"My name's Minnie Webb, though pa never approved of it, and when he +married again, we thought it would be easier to say Aunt Delia, to +distinguish her from ma, you know." + +Mrs. Reed paused before these complicated relationships, and skilfully +executed another tack; "I hope you find it pleasant here." + +"It's a pretty place here, but it's awful dull," said Mrs. Pickens, "and +it's so much trouble; I never kept house before. I've always boarded, +and mostly in hotels." + +"I am afraid it may seem quiet here to a stranger," said Mrs. Reed, +apologetically. "You see when anyone takes a house here for the summer, +people are rather slow to call; they suppose that you have your own +friends visiting you, and that you don't care to make new acquaintances +for so short a time. I am sorry I have not been able to call before. I +was not sure that you went to our church." + +"I don't go much to church; it is so much trouble. But Minnie says yours +is the prettiest for a wedding," said Mrs. Pickens, smiling so aimlessly +that it was impossible to suppose any rudeness intended. Mrs. Reed could +only try to draw out the more responsive Minnie. "Is there anything else +that I can do to help you about the wedding?" + +"Why, yes--only, you've been so kind. I most hate to ask you for +anything more." + +"Don't mention it!" + +"Well, then, if you could think of any girl that would do for a +bridesmaid." + +"A bridesmaid?" + +"Oh, yes, there ought to be _one_ bridesmaid; a pretty one I should +want, of course, and just about my size. You see, I have her dress all +ready, for when I ordered my own gown in Paris, Madame Valerie showed me +the proper bridesmaid's gown to go with it, and it looked so nice I told +her I would take it. I thought, if the worst came to the worst, I could +wear it myself; but it would be a shame not to have it show at the +wedding. Of course," said Minnie, impressively, "I mean to _give_ the +young lady the dress--for her own, to keep!" + +Mrs. Reed, at last, was struck fairly speechless, and her resources +failed. "Suppose," said the bride, in coaxing tones, "you just step up +and look at the gowns; if it would not be too much trouble." + +The sight of the dresses was a mighty argument. At any rate, people with +such garments could be planning no vulgar burglary. It might be a +Gunpowder Treason, or an Assassination Plot, and that was romantic and +dignified, while at the same time it was a duty to keep it under +observation. + +"I think," said Mrs. Reed, slowly, "I know a girl--a very pretty +one--who would just fit this dress." + +"What's her name?" + +"Muriel Blake." + +"Oh, how sweet! I wish it was mine! Who is she?" + +"She--she teaches school--but they're of very good family. She's very +pretty--but they're not at all well off. She's a very sweet girl." Mrs. +Reed balanced her phrases carefully, not knowing whether it would be +better to present her young friend in the light of a candidate for pity +or admiration. But Minnie smiled, and said she had no doubt it would do, +and that Mrs. Reed was very good; and even Mrs. Pickens wound herself up +to remark that it was very kind in her to take so much trouble. + +Mrs. Reed hastened home overwhelmed with business. The Crocker boys were +easily persuaded to take the parts assigned them, and even her elegant +and experienced friend, William Winchester, though he made a favour of +his services, gave them at last, "wholly to oblige her." + +"Any bridesmaids?" asked Reggie Crocker. + +"She wants me to ask Muriel Blake." + +"What, the little beauty of a school teacher! Well, there will be +sport!" cried his brother, and even William Winchester asked with some +interest, if she supposed Miss Blake would consent. "I think so," said +Mrs. Reed; but her hopes were faint as she bent her way to the little +house where Mrs. Blake, an invalid widow with scarce a penny, scraped +out a livelihood by taking the public-school teachers to board, while +her Muriel did half the housework, and taught, herself, in a primary +school, having neither time nor talents to fit herself for a higher +grade. Never was there a girl who better exemplified the old simile of +the clinging vine than she; only no support had ever offered itself for +her to cling to, and she had none of that instinctive skill which so +many creepers show in striking out for, and appropriating, an eligible +one. Mrs. Blake, a gentlewoman born and bred, gave at first a most +decided refusal to her daughter's appearance in the character proposed. +But Mrs. Reed, warming as she met with obstacles, pressed her point +hard. She said a great deal more in favour of the respectability of the +Pickenses than she could assert from her own knowledge, dwelt with +compassion on their loneliness, and touched, though lightly, on the +favour to herself; both ladies knowing but too well that the claims to +gratitude were past counting. Mrs. Blake faltered, perhaps moved +somewhat by a wistful look, which through all doubts and excuses, would +rise in her daughter's eyes. As for Muriel's own little childish +objections, they were swept away by her patroness like so many cobwebs. +There was a gown ready and waiting for her, and Mrs. Reed would arrange +about her absence from school. + +"But, if I am bridesmaid, I ought to make her a present," she said at +last, "and I am afraid----" + +"_That_ need not matter," said her mother, loftily, "I will give her one +of my India China plates. That will be present enough for anybody; and I +have several left." + +This, Mrs. Reed correctly augured, was the preface to surrender; and she +walked Muriel off to call on Miss Webb, before any more objections +should arise. + +"Well!" cried that young lady at the first sight of her bridesmaid, +"Well! I beg your pardon, but you _are_--" and even Mrs. Pickens +regarded the young girl with languid admiration. Muriel Blake's golden +curls, and azure eyes, and roseate bloom flashed on the eye much as does +a cardinal flower in a wayside brook. No one could help noticing her +charms; but no one had ever gone farther than to notice them, and they +were about as useful in her daily duties as diamonds on the handle of a +dustpan. Minnie looked at her rather doubtfully for a moment; but her +good humour returned during the pleasing task of arraying the girl in +her costume, and she even insisted on Miss Blake's assuming the bridal +dress herself. + +"Well, I'm sure! What a bride you would make! You aren't engaged, are +you?" + +"No." + +"You ought to travel. You'd be sure to meet someone. Well, we'll take it +off. I'm glad I'm going to wear it, and not you. You look quite stunning +enough in the other." + +"It is lovely--too handsome for me." + +"I had a complete outfit made in Paris this spring, though I wasn't +engaged then; but I guessed I should be before the things went out of +fashion." + +"You knew Mr. MacJacobs very well then?" + +"No--oh, no. I'd never seen him. Ma was anxious I should marry a foreign +gentleman." + +"Does your mother live abroad?" + +"Yes--that is, she's not my real mother. I never knew who my real father +and mother were. Ma wanted to adopt a little girl, and, she took me from +the Orphan Asylum at Detroit, because I had such lovely curls. They were +as light as yours, then, but they've grown dark, since. Is there +anything you put on yours to keep the colour?" + +"No--nothing." + +"Well, pa was very angry when he found out what ma had done. He didn't +want to adopt a child; but ma said she would, and she could, because +she had money of her own. But he was always real kind to me. They were +both very nice, only they would quarrel. Well, when I was sixteen, ma +said she would take me abroad to finish my education. We'd travelled so +much, I never had much chance to go to school. Pa said it was nonsense, +but she would go. But I didn't go to school there, either. We went to +Germany to look at one we'd heard of, and there a German gentleman, +Baron Von Krugenstern, proposed to me. He thought I was going to be +awfully rich. But when he found out how things really were, and that ma +had the money, he changed about and proposed to her. They are so fond of +money, those foreigners, you know!" + +"Did your father die while you were abroad?" + +"Oh, dear, no! He wasn't dead! He was over here, all right. But ma got a +divorce from him without any trouble. She and I and the Baron came over +and went to Dakota, and it was all arranged, and they were married in +six weeks. She got it for cruelty. I could testify I'd seen him throw +things at her. She used to throw them back again, but no one asked me +about that. Well, pa never heard about it till it was all over, and then +he was awfully mad; but I guess he didn't mind much, for he soon married +Aunt Delia, and they always got along very pleasantly. I made them a +visit after they were married, and then I went abroad with ma and the +Baron. But pa told me if I wasn't happy there, I could come back any +time." + +"Were you happy there?" + +"No, I can't say I was. They lived in an awfully skimpy way, in a flat, +three flights up, and no elevator. Baron Von Krugenstern didn't like +ma's having brought me, till pa died, and that made a change. Pa left +half his money to Aunt Delia, and the other half to me. Now, don't you +call that noble of him?" + +Muriel assented. + +"As soon as they found that out, the whole family were awfully polite to +me; they wanted me to marry his younger brother, Baron Stanislaus. But I +wrote to Aunt Delia; she'd married Uncle Perley by that time, and come +to Europe for a wedding tour. They were in Paris; and Uncle Perley was +very kind, and sent back word for me to come to them, and I set off all +alone; all the Von Krugensterns thought it was perfectly dreadful. I +bought my trousseau in Paris, for I hadn't quite decided I wouldn't have +Baron Stanislaus, after all. But Uncle Perley advised me strongly +against it; he said American husbands were a great deal the best, and I +conclude he was right. And then, on the voyage home, we met Mr. +MacJacobs." + +"I suppose you are very glad you came away?" + +"Oh, yes, I am quite satisfied--quite. Baron Stanislaus was six feet +three and a half inches high; but I don't think height goes for so much +in a man; do you?" + +Muriel looked at the little nomad with some wonder, but without the +reprobation which might have been expected from a young person carefully +brought up under the teachings of the Reverend Richard Reed. She rather +regarded Minnie in the aspect of--to quote the hymn familiar to her +childhood--"a gypsy baby, taught to roam, and steal her daily bread;" +and no matter how carefully guarded the infant mind, the experiences of +the gypsy will kindle a flame of interest. She, too, like Mrs. Reed, +felt eager to see the end of the story. + +The wedding preparations went on apace. The tradesmen worked briskly, +for they had received information, on the application of some of the +doubting among them to Messrs. May & Maxwell, that Mr. Pickens's credit +was good for a million at least, not counting the very handsome banking +accounts of his two ladies. Miss Webb made all the arrangements for her +bridal, as Mr. MacJacobs could not come till the evening before. + +"I only hope he'll come at all," carelessly suggested William +Winchester, one evening at the Parsonage. + +"Why! do you think there is any danger of his giving it up?" cried Mrs. +Reed, in consternation. + +"I rather begin to think that there is no such person. MacJacobs! What a +name! Can it possibly be real?" + +"The name has a goodly ring of wealth about it," said the parson. +"Scotch and Hebrew! 'tis a rich combination, indeed! Still, if it were +as you suggest, it is a comfort to know that the remedy is at hand. You +have done so much for them, Emma, my dear, that you cannot fail them +now. They will ask you to find some nice young man for a bridegroom, +rather than have the whole thing fall through, and I hope William is +prepared to see it in the proper light, and offer his services 'purely +to oblige you.'" + +"I shall have an answer ready," said William, coolly, "I shall say that +I am already bespoken." + +"And can you produce the proof? It will have to be a pretty convincing +one." + +"Perhaps in such an emergency I might find a _very_ convincing one," +said William, with a glance at Muriel, who had been looking confused, +and who now coloured deeply. It was more with displeasure than distress; +but then it was, for the first time, that she struck him as being +something more than a merely pretty girl. + +MacJacobs, came, punctual to his time, a small but sprightly individual, +with plenty to say as a proof of his existence. He brought neat, if not +over-expensive, scarf-pins for his gentlemen attendants, and a bracelet +in corresponding style for Miss Blake. The wedding went off to general +admiration. The church was full, and if the company at the house was +scanty, there was no scarcity in the banquet. And when the feast was +over, and Mrs. MacJacobs, on the carriage-step, turned to take her last +farewell; while Muriel's handkerchief was ready in her hand, and the +Crocker boys were fumbling among the rice in their pockets, and William +Winchester himself was feeling in his for the old shoe--"I am sure," she +said, "it has gone off beautifully, and I shall never, never forget your +kindness, as long as I live! I _did_ so want to have a pretty +wedding--such as I've read about!" + +If these last words roused dismal forebodings in the minds of the bridal +train, to be verified by a perusal of the next day's Boston papers, +they were forgiven as soon as they were uttered; for the light patter of +Minnie's voice died away in a quaver of genuine feeling; and a shower of +real tears threw for once a veil of sweetness over her little +inexpressive face. + +THE END. + +[Illustration] + + + + +BY ANNA FULLER. + + +A LITERARY COURTSHIP. + + =Under the auspices of Pike's Peak.= Printed on deckel edged + paper, with illustrations. 22nd edition. 12°, gilt top $1.25 + +"A delightful little love story. Like her other book it is bright and +breezy; its humor is crisp and the general idea decidedly original. It +is just the book to slip into the pocket for a journey, when one does +not care for a novel or serious reading."--_Boston Times._ + +A VENETIAN JUNE. + + Illustrated by George Sloane. Printed on deckel edged paper. + 7th edition. 12°, gilt top $1.25 + +"_A Venetian June_ bespeaks its materials by its title, and very full +the little story is of the picturesqueness, the novelty, the beauty, of +life in the city of gondolas and gondoliers--a strong and able work, +showing seriousness of motive and strength of touch."--_Literary World._ + + A _Venetian June_ and _A Literary Courtship_ are also put up + as a set in a box. 2 vols $2.50 + + +PRATT PORTRAITS. + + =Sketched in a New England Suburb.= 10th edition. 16°, paper, + 50 cts.; cloth $1.00 + + New edition, illustrated by George Sloane. 8° $2.00 + +"The lines the author cuts in her vignette are sharp and clear, but she +has, too, not alone the knack of color, but, what is rarer, the gift of +humor."--_New York Times._ + +PEAK AND PRAIRIE. + + =From a Colorado Sketch-book.= 3rd edition. 16°. With a + frontispiece by Louis Loeb $1.00 + +"We may say that the jaded reader fagged with the strenuous art of the +passing hour, who chances to select this volume to cheer the hours, will +throw up his hat for sheer joy at having hit upon a book in which +morbidness and self-consciousness are conspicuous, by their +absence."--_New York Times._ + + + + +THE HUDSON LIBRARY + +_Registered as Second-Class Matter._ + +16°, paper, 50 cts.; 12°, cloth, $1.00 and $1.25. + + +I. =Love and Shawl-Straps.= By ANNETTE LUCILE NOBLE. + + "Decidedly a success."--_Boston Herald._ + +II. =Miss Hurd: An Enigma.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + "Miss Hurd fulfils one's anticipations from start to finish. + She keeps you in a state of suspense which is positively + fascinating."--_Kansas Times._ + +III. =How Thankful was Bewitched.= By J. K. HOSMER. + + "A picturesque romance charmingly told. The interest is both + historical and poetic."--_Independent._ + +IV. =A Woman of Impulse.= By JUSTIN HUNTLEY MCCARTHY. + + "It is a book well worth reading, charmingly written, and + containing a most interesting collection of characters that + are just like life...."--_Chicago Journal._ + +V. =Countess Bettina.= By CLINTON ROSS. + + "There is a charm in stories of this kind, free from + sentimentality, and written only to entertain."--_Boston + Times._ + +VI. =Her Majesty.= By ELIZABETH K. TOMPKINS. + + "It is written with a charming style, with grace and ease, + and very pretty unexpected turns of expression."--DROCH, in + _N. Y. Life_. + +VII. =God Forsaken.= By FREDERIC BRETON. + + "A very clever book.... The characters are well and firmly + drawn."--_Liverpool Mercury._ + +VIII. =An Island Princess.= By THEODORE GIFT. + + "A charming and often brilliant tale."--_Literary World._ + +IX. =Elizabeth's Pretenders.= By HAMILTON AÏDÉ. + + "It is a novel of character, of uncommon power and interest, + wholesome, humorous, and sensible in every + chapter."--_Bookman._ + +X. =At Tuxter's.= By G. B. BURGIN. + + "A very interesting story. The characters are particularly + well drawn."--_Boston Times._ + +XI. =At Cherryfield Hall.= By FREDERIC H. BALFOUR (Ross George Deering). + + "This is a brilliantly-told tale, the constructive ingenuity + and literary excellence of which entitle the author to a + place of honor in the foremost rank of contemporary English + romancists."--_London Telegraph._ + +XII. =The Crime of the Century.= By R. OTTOLENGUI. + + "It is one of the best-told stories of its kind we have + read, and the reader will not be able to guess its ending + easily."--_Boston Times._ + +XIII. =The Things that Matter.= By FRANCIS GRIBBLE. + + "A very amusing novel, full of bright satire directed + against the New Woman and similar objects."--_London + Speaker._ + +XIV. =The Heart of Life.= By W. H. MALLOCK. + + "Interesting, sometimes tender, and uniformly brilliant.... + People will read Mr. Mallock's 'Heart of Life,' for the + extraordinary brilliance with which he tells his + story."--_Daily Telegraph._ + +XV. =The Broken Ring.= By ELIZABETH K. TOMPKINS. + + "A romance of war and love in royal life, pleasantly written + and cleverly composed for melodramatic effect in the + end."--_Independent._ + +XVI. =The Strange Schemes of Randolph Mason.= By MELVILLE D. POST. + + "This book is very entertaining and original ... ingeniously + constructed ... well worth reading."--_N. Y. Herald._ + +XVII. =That Affair Next Door.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + "The success of this is something almost unprecedented. Its + startling ingenuity, sustained interest, and wonderful plot + shows that the author's hand has not lost its + cunning."--_Buffalo Inquirer._ + +XVIII. =In the Crucible.= By GRACE DENIO LITCHFIELD. + + "The reader will find in this book bright, breezy talk, and + a more than ordinary insight into the possibilities of human + character."--_Cambridge Tribune._ + +XIX. =Eyes Like the Sea.= By MAURUS JÓKAI. + + "A strikingly original and powerful story."--_London + Speaker._ + +XX. =An Uncrowned King.= By S. C. GRIER. + + "Original and uncommonly interesting."--_Scotsman._ + +XXI. =The Professor's Dilemma.= By A. L. NOBLE. + + "A bright, entertaining novel ... fresh, piquant, and well + told."--_Boston Transcript._ + +XXII. =The Ways of Life.= Two Stories. By MRS. OLIPHANT. + + "As a work of art we can praise the story without + reserve."--_London Spectator._ + +XXIII. =The Man of the Family.= By CHRISTIAN REID. + + "A Southern story of romantic and thrilling + interest."--_Boston Times._ + +XXIV. =Margot.= By SIDNEY PICKERING. + + "We have nothing but praise for this excellently written + novel."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + +XXV. =The Fall of the Sparrow.= By M. C. BALFOUR. + + "A book to be enjoyed ... of unlagging interest and original + in conception."--_Boston Times._ + +XXVI. =Elementary Jane.= By RICHARD PRYCE. + + "A heartfelt, sincere, beautiful love story, told with + infinite humor."--_Chicago Times-Herald._ + +XXVII. =The Man of Last Resort.= By MELVILLE D. POST. + + "The author makes a strong plea for moral responsibility in + his work, and his vivid style and undeniable earnestness + must carry great weight with all thinking readers. It is a + notable book."--_Boston Times._ + +XXVIII. =The Confession of Stephen Whapshare.= By EMMA BROOKE. + + _In preparation:_ + +XXIX. =The Chase of an Heiress.= By CHRISTIAN REID. + +XXX. =Lost Man's Lane.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + + + +THE UNIVERSITY SERIES + + +I. =Harvard Stories.= Sketches of the Undergraduate. By W. K. POST. +Fifteenth edition. 12°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "Not since the days of _Hammersmith_ have we had such a + vivid picture of college life as Mr. W. K. Post has given us + in this book. Unpretentious, in their style, the stories are + mere sketches, yet withal the tone is so genuine, the local + color so truly 'crimson,' as to make the book one of + unfailing interest."--_Literary World._ + +II. =Pale Yarns.= By J. S. WOOD. Fifth edition. Illustrated, 12°, $1.00. + + "A bright, realistic picture of college life, told in an + easy conversational, or descriptive style, and cannot fail + to genuinely interest the reader who has the slightest + appreciation of humor. The volume is illustrated and is just + the book for an idle or a lonely hour."--_Los Angeles + Times._ + +III. =The Babe, B.A.= Stories of Life at Cambridge University. By EDW +F. BENSON. Illustrated, 12°, $1.00. + + "The story tells of the every-day life of a young man called + the Babe.... Cleverly written and one of the best this + author has written."--_Leader_, New Haven. + +IV. =A Princetonian.= A Story of Undergraduate Life at the College of +New Jersey. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated, 12°, $1.25. + + "It is fresh, hearty, sensible, and readable, leaving a good + impression of college life upon the mind."--_Baltimore Sun._ + + +BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + +=The Leavenworth Case.= A Lawyer's Story. 4°, paper, 20 cts.; 16°, +paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "She has worked up a _cause celèbre_ with a fertility of + device and ingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie + Collins or Edgar Allan Poe."--_Christian Union._ + + ".... Told with a force and power that indicate great + dramatic talent in the writer."--_St. Louis Post._ + +=Hand and Ring.= Popular edition. 4°, paper, 20 cts.; 16°, paper, +illustrated, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "The best, most intricate, most perfectly constructed, and + most fascinating detective story ever written."--_Utica + Herald._ + +=Marked "Personal."= 16°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "It is a tribute to the author's genius that she never tires + and never loses her readers. It moves on, clean and healthy, + and ends without raising images or making impressions which + have to be forgotten."--_Boston Journal._ + +=That Affair Next Door.= Hudson Library, No. 17. Seventh edition. 12°, +paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + Other works by Anna Katharine Green are as follows: "A + Strange Disappearance," "The Sword of Damocles," "The Mill + Mystery," "Behind Closed Doors," "X. Y. Z.," "7 to 12," "The + Old Stone House," "Cynthia Wakeham's Money," "The Doctor, + His Wife, and the Clock," "Dr. Izard." + + * * * * * + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Boston Neighbours In Town and Out, by +Agnes Blake Poor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 36196-8.txt or 36196-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/9/36196/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Boston Neighbours In Town and Out + +Author: Agnes Blake Poor + +Release Date: May 22, 2011 [EBook #36196] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="600" height="454" alt=""HE TOOK OUT HIS EYEGLASS TO STUDY IT."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"HE TOOK OUT HIS EYEGLASS TO STUDY IT."</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>BOSTON NEIGHBOURS</h1> + +<h1>IN TOWN AND OUT</h1> + +<h2>BY AGNES BLAKE POOR</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="100" height="65" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h4>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">NEW YORK and LONDON</span></h4> + +<h4>The Knickerbocker Press</h4> + +<h4>1898</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1898</h4> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h4>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="400" height="91" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OUR_TOLSTOI_CLUB"><b><span class="smcap">Our Tolstoi Club</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_LITTLE_FOOL"><b><span class="smcap">A Little Fool</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>41</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WHY_I_MARRIED_ELEANOR"><b><span class="smcap">Why I Married Eleanor</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>83</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_A_WALL-FLOWER"><b><span class="smcap">The Story of a Wall-Flower</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>123</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#POOR_MR_PONSONBY"><b><span class="smcap">Poor Mr. Ponsonby</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>187</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MODERN_VENGEANCE"><b><span class="smcap">Modern Vengeance</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>239</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THREE_CUPS_OF_TEA"><b><span class="smcap">Three Cups of Tea</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>274</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_TRAMPS_WEDDING"><b><span class="smcap">The Tramps' Wedding</span></b></a></td><td align='right'>300</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The author and the publishers desire to make acknowledgment to the +publishers of the <i>Century Magazine</i> and of the <i>New England Magazine</i> +for their courtesy in permitting the re-issue of certain stories which +were originally published in these periodicals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="400" height="92" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="OUR_TOLSTOI_CLUB" id="OUR_TOLSTOI_CLUB"></a>OUR TOLSTOI CLUB</h2> + +<p>I should be glad to tell a story if I only knew one, but I don't. Some +people say that one experience is as interesting as another, and that +any real life is worth hearing about; but I think it must make some +little difference who the person is. But if I really must tell one, and +since you all have told yours, and such nice ones, and anything is +better than nothing when we are kept in all the morning by a pouring +rain, with nothing to do, because we came only for a week, and did not +expect it to rain, I will try and tell you about our Tolstoi Club, +because that was rather like a story—at least it might have been like +one if things had turned out a little differently.</p> + +<p>You know I live in a suburb of Boston, and a very charming, delightful +one it is. I cannot call it by its real name, because I am going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> be +so very personal; so I will call it "Babyland," which indeed people +often do in fun. There never was such a place for children. The +population is mostly under seven years old, for it was about seven years +ago that young married people began to move into it in such numbers, +because it is so healthy; but it was always a great place for them even +when it was small. The old inhabitants are mostly grandfathers and +grandmothers now, and enjoy it very much; but they usually go into town +in the winter, with such unmarried children as they have left, to get a +little change; for there is no denying that there is a sameness about +it—the sidewalks are crowded with perambulators every pleasant day, and +at our parties the talk is apt to run too much on nursery-maids, and +milkmen and their cows, and drains, to be very interesting to those who +have not learned how terribly important such things are. So in winter +we—I mean the young married couples, of whom I am half a one—are left +pretty much to our own devices.</p> + +<p>Though we are all so devoted to our infant families, we are not so much +so as to give up all rational pleasures or intellectual tastes; we could +not live so near Boston, you know, and do that. Our husbands go into +town every day to make money, and we go in every few days to spend it, +and in the evenings, if they are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> not too tired, we sometimes make them +take us in to the theatres and concerts. We all have a very nice social +circle, for Babyland is fashionable as well as respectable, and we are +asked out more or less, and go out; but for real enjoyment we like our +own clubs and classes the best. We feel so safe going round in the +neighbourhood, because we are so near the children, and can be called +home any time if necessary. There is our little evening dancing-club, +which meets round at one another's houses, where we all exchange +husbands—a kind of grown-up "puss-in-the-corner"; only, as the supply +of dancing husbands is not quite equal to that of wives, we have to get +a young man or two in if we can; and for the same reason we don't ask +any girls, who, indeed, are not very eager to come. Then there is the +musical club, and the sketching-club, and we have a great many morning +clubs for the women alone, where we bring our work (and it is splendid +to get so much time to sew), and read, or are read to, and then talk +over things. Sometimes we stay to lunch, and sometimes not; and we would +have an essay club, only we have no time to write the papers.</p> + +<p>Now, many of these clubs meet chiefly at Minnie Mason's—Mrs. Sydney +Mason's. She gets them up, and is president: you see, she has more time, +because she has no children—the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> only woman in Babyland who hasn't, and +I don't doubt she feels dreadfully about it. She is not strong, and has +to lie on the sofa most of the time, and that is another reason why we +meet there so often; and then she lives right in the midst of us all, +and so close to the road that we can all of us watch our children, when +they are out for their airings, very conveniently. Minnie is very kind +and sympathetic, and takes such an interest in all our affairs, and if +she is somewhat inclined to gossip about them, poor dear, it is very +natural, when she has so few of her own to think about.</p> + +<p>Well, in the autumn before last, Minnie said we must get up a Tolstoi +Club; she said the Russians were the coming race, and Tolstoi was their +greatest writer, and the most Christian of moralists (at least she had +read so), and that everybody was talking about him, and we should be +behindhand if we could not. So we turned one of our clubs, which had +nothing particular on hand just then, into one; and, besides Tolstoi, we +read other Russian novelists, Turgenieff and—that man whose name is so +hard to pronounce, who writes all about convicts and—and other +criminals. We did not read them all, for they are very long, and we can +never get through anything long; but we hired a very nice lady +"skimmer," who ran through them, and told us the plots, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> all about +the authors, and read us bits. I forget a good deal, but I remember she +said that Tolstoi was the supreme realist, and that all previous +novelists were romancers and idealists, and that he drew life just as it +was, and nobody else had ever done anything like it, except indeed the +other Russians; and then we discussed. In discussion we are very apt to +stray off to other topics, but that day I remember Bessie Milliken +saying that the Russians seemed very queer people; she supposed that if +every one said these authors were so true to life, they must be, but she +had never known such an extraordinary state of things. Just as soon as +ever people were married—if they married at all—they seemed wild to +make love to some one else, or have some one else make love to them.</p> + +<p>"They don't seem to do so here," said Fanny Deane.</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> certainly do not," said Blanche Livermore. "I think the reason +must be that we have no time. I have scarcely time to see anything of my +own husband, much less to fall in love with any one else's."</p> + +<p>We all laughed, but we felt that it was odd. In Babyland all went on in +an orderly and respectable fashion. The gayest girls, the fastest young +men, as soon as they were married and settled there, subsided at once +into quiet,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> domestic ways. At our dances each of us secretly thought +her own husband the most interesting person present, and he returned the +compliment, and after a peaceful evening of passing them about we were +always very thankful to get them back to go home with. Were we, then, so +unlike the rest of humanity?</p> + +<p>"Are we sure?" asked Minnie Mason, always prone to speculation. "It is +not likely that we are utterly different from the rest of the world. Who +knows what dark tragedies lie hidden in the recesses of the heart? Who +knows all her neighbour's secret history?" This was being rather +personal, but no one took it home, for we never minded what Minnie said; +and as many of the club were, as always occurred, detained at home by +domestic duties, we thought it might apply to one of them. But I can't +deny that we, and especially Minnie, who had a relish for what was +sensational, and was pleased to find that realistic fiction, which she +had always thought must be dull, was really exciting, felt a little +ashamed at our being so behind the age—"provincial," as Mr. James would +call it; "obsolete," as Mr. Howells is fond of saying—at Babyland as +not to have the ghost of a scandal among us. None of us wished to give +cause for the scandal ourselves; but I think we might not have been as +sorry as we ought to be if one of our neighbours had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> been obliging +enough to do so. We did not want anything very bad, you know. Of course +none of us could ever have dreamed of running away with a fascinating +young man—like Anna Karenina—because in the first place we all liked +our husbands, and in the next place, who could be depended upon to go +into town to do the marketing, and to see that the children wore their +india-rubbers on wet days? But anything short of that we felt we could +bear with equanimity.</p> + +<p>That same fall we were excited, though only in our usual harmless, +innocent way, by hearing that the old Grahame house was sold, and +pleased—though no more than was proper—that it was sold to the +Williamses. It was a pretty, old farm-house which had been improved upon +and enlarged, and had for many years been to let; and being as +inconvenient as it was pretty, it was always changing its tenants, whom +we despised as transients, and seldom called upon. But now it was +bought, and by none of your new people, who, we began to think, were +getting too common in Babyland. We all knew Willie Williams: all the men +were his old friends, and all the women had danced with him, and liked +him, and flirted with him; but I don't think it ever went deeper, for +somehow all the girls had a way of laughing at him, though he was a +handsome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> fellow, and had plenty of money, and was very well behaved, +and clever too in his way; but we could not help thinking him silly. For +one thing, he would be an artist, though you never saw such dreadful +daubs as all his pictures were. It was a mercy he did not have to live +by them, for he never sold any; he gave them away to his friends, and +Blanche Livermore said that was why he had so many friends, for of +course he could not work off more than one apiece on them. He was very +popular with all the other artists, for he was the kindest-hearted +creature, and always helped those who were poor, and admired those who +were great; and they never had anything to say against him, though they +could not get out anything more in his praise than that he was "careful +and conscientious in his work," which was very likely true. Then he was +vain; at least he liked his own good looks, and, being æsthetic in his +tastes, chose to display them to advantage by his attire. He wore his +hair, which was very light, long, and was seldom seen in anything less +fanciful than a boating-suit, or a bicycle-suit, though he was not given +to either exercise, but wanted an excuse for a blouse, and +knee-breeches, and tights, and a soft hat—and these were all of a more +startling pattern than other people's; while as to the velvet +painting-jackets and brocade dressing-gowns,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> in which he indulged in +his studio, I can only say that they made him a far more picturesque +figure than any in his pictures. It was a shame to waste such materials +on a man. Then he lisped when he was at all excited, which he often was; +and he had odd ways of walking, and standing, and sitting, which looked +affected, though I really don't think they were.</p> + +<p>He made enthusiastic, but very brief, love to all of us in turn. I don't +know whether any of us could have had him; if one could, all could; but, +supposing we could, I don't believe any of us would have had the courage +to venture on Willie Williams. But we expected that his marriage would +be romantic and exciting, and his wedding something out of the common. +Opinions were divided as to whether his ardent love-making would induce +some lovely young Italian or Spanish girl of rank to run away from a +convent with him, or whether he would rashly take up with some artist's +model, or goose-girl, or beggar-maid. We were much disappointed when, +after all, he married in the most commonplace manner a very ordinary +girl named Loulie Latham.</p> + +<p>We all knew Loulie too; she went to school at Miss Woodberry's, in the +class next below mine; and she was a nice girl, and we all liked her +well enough, but there never was a girl who had less in her. She was not +bad-looking,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> but no beauty; not at all the kind of looks to attract an +artist. Blanche Livermore said that he might have married her for her +red hair if only there had been more of it. The Lathams were very well +connected, and knew everybody, and she went about with the other girls, +and had a fair show of attention at parties; but she never had friends +or lovers. She had not much chance to have any, indeed, for she married +very young.</p> + +<p>She was a very shy, quiet girl, and I used to think that perhaps it was +because she was so overcrowed by her mother. Mrs. Latham was a large, +striking-looking if not exactly handsome, lady-like though loud, woman, +who talked a great deal about everything. She was clever, but eccentric, +and took up all manner of fads and fancies, and though she was a +thoroughly good woman, and well born and well bred, she did know the +very queerest people—always hand in glove with some new crank. Hygiene, +as she called it, was her pet hobby. Fortunately she had a particular +aversion to dosing; but she dieted her daughter and herself, which, I +fear, was nearly as bad. All her bread had husks in it, and she was +always discovering that it was hurtful to eat any butter or drink any +water, and no end of such notions. She dressed poor Loulie so +frightfully that it was enough to take all the courage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> out of a girl: +with all her dresses very short in the skirt, and big at the waist, and +cut high, even in the evening, and thick shoes very queerly shaped, made +after her own orders by some shoemaker of her own, and loose cotton +gloves, and a mushroom hat down over her eyes. Finally she took up the +mind-cure, and Loulie was to keep thinking all the time how perfectly +well she was, which, I think, was what made her so thin and pale. Mrs. +Latham always said that no one ever need be ill, and indeed she never +was herself, for she was found dead in her bed one morning without any +warning.</p> + +<p>This happened at Jackson, New Hampshire, where they were spending the +summer. Of course poor Loulie was half distracted with the shock and the +grief. There was no one in the house where they were whom she knew at +all, or who was very congenial, I fancy, and Willie Williams, whom they +knew slightly, was in the neighbourhood, sketching, and was very kind +and attentive, and more helpful than any one would ever have imagined he +could be. He saw to all the business, and telegraphed for some cousin or +other, and made the funeral arrangements; and the end of it was that in +three months he and Loulie Latham were married, and had sailed for +Europe on their wedding tour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was ten years ago, and they had never come back till now. They +meant to come back sooner, but one thing after another prevented. They +had no children for several years, and they thought it a good chance to +poke around in the wildest parts of Southern Europe—Corsica, and +Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles, and all that—and made their winter +quarters at Palermo. Then for the next six years they lived in less +out-of-the-way places. They had four children, and lost two; and one +thing or another kept them abroad, until they suddenly made up their +minds to come home.</p> + +<p>We had not heard much of them while they were gone. Loulie had no one to +correspond with, and Willie, like most men, never wrote letters; but we +all were very curious to see them, and willing to welcome them, though +we did not know how much they were going to surprise us. Willie +Williams, indeed, was just the same as ever—in fact, our only surprise +in him was to see him look no older than when he went away; but as for +Mrs. Williams, she gave us quite a shock. For my part, I shall never +forget how taken aback I was, when, strolling down to the station one +afternoon with the children, with a vague idea of meeting Tom, who might +come on that train, but who didn't, I came suddenly upon a tall, +splendidly shaped, stately creature, in the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> magnificent clothes; +at least they looked so, though they were all black, and the dress was +only cashmere, but it was draped in an entirely new way. She wore a +shoulder-cape embroidered in jet, and a large black hat and feather set +back over great masses of rich dark auburn hair; and, though so late in +the season, she carried a large black lace parasol. To be sure, it was +still very warm and pleasant. I never should have ventured to speak to +her, but she stopped at once, and said, "Perhaps you have forgotten me, +Mrs. White?"</p> + +<p>"No—oh, no," I said, trying not to seem confused; "Mrs.—Mrs. Williams, +I believe?"</p> + +<p>"You knew me better as Loulie Latham," she said pleasantly enough; but I +cannot say I liked her manner. There was something in it, though I could +not say what, that seemed like condescension, and she hardly mentioned +my children—and most people think them so pretty—though I saw her look +at them earnestly once or twice.</p> + +<p>Willie was the same good-hearted, hospitable fellow as ever, and begged +us to come in, and go all over his house, and see his studio that he had +built on, and his bric-à-brac. And a lovely house it was, full of +beautiful things, for he knew them, if he could not paint them, and +indeed he had a great talent for amateur carpentering. We wished he +would come to our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> houses and do little jobs to show his good-will, +instead of giving us his pictures; but we tried to say something nice +about them, and the frames were most elegant. Of course we saw a good +deal of Mrs. Williams, but I don't think any of us took to her. She was +very quiet, as she always had been, but with a difference. She was +perfectly polite, and I can't say she gave herself airs, exactly; but +there was something very like it in her seeming to be so well satisfied +with herself and her position, and caring so little whether she pleased +us or not. Of course we all invited them, and they accepted most of our +invitations when they were asked together, though she showed no great +eagerness to do so; but she would not join one of our morning clubs, and +had no reason to give. It could not be want of time, for we used to see +her dawdling about with her children all the morning, though we knew +that she had brought over an excellent, highly trained, Protestant North +German nurse for them. When we asked her to the dancing-class, she said +she never danced, and we had better not depend on her, but Mr. Williams +enjoyed it, and would be glad to come without her. We did not relish +this indifference, though it gave us an extra man, and Minnie Mason said +that it was not a good thing for a man to get into the way of going +about without his wife.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Mrs. Williams, opening her great eyes with such an air +of utter ignorance that it was impossible to explain. It was easy to see +that she need not be afraid of trusting her husband out of her sight, +for a more devoted and admiring one I never saw, whether with her or +away from her talking of "Loulou" and her charms, as if sure of +sympathy. But we had our doubts as to how much she returned his +attachment, and Minnie said it was easy to see that she only tolerated +him; and we all thought her unappreciative, to say the least. He was +very much interested in her dress, and spent a great deal of time in +choosing and buying beautiful ornaments and laces and stuffs for her, +which she insisted on having made up in her own way, languidly remarking +that it was enough for Willie to make her a fright on canvas, without +doing so in real life. Blanche Livermore said she must have some +affection for him, to sit so much to him, for he had painted about a +hundred pictures of her in different styles, each one worse than the +last. You would have thought her hideous if you had only seen them; but +Willie's artist friends, some of them very distinguished, had painted +her too, and had made her into a regular beauty. Opinions differed about +her looks; but those who liked her the least had to allow that she was +fine-looking, though some said it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> greatly owing to her style of +dress. We all called it shockingly conspicuous at first, and then went +home and tried to make our things look as much like hers as we possibly +could, which was very little; for, as we afterwards found out, they came +from a modiste at Paris who worked for only one or two private +customers, and whose costumes had a kind of combination of the +fashionable and the artistic which it seemed impossible for any one here +to hit. We used to wonder how poor Mrs. Latham would feel, could she +rise from her grave, to behold her daughter's gowns, tight as a glove, +and in the evening low and long to a degree, her high-heeled French +shoes, and everything her mother had thought most sinful. Her hair had +grown a deeper, richer shade abroad, and she had matched it to +perfection, and one of Willie's pictures of her, with the real and false +all down her back together, looked like the burning bush. She was in +slight mourning for an old great-uncle who had left her a nice little +sum of money; and we thought, if she were so inimitable now, what would +she be when she put on colours?</p> + +<p>We did better in modelling our children's clothes after hers, and I must +say she was very good-natured about lending us her patterns. She had a +boy and girl, beautiful little creatures,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> but they looked rather +delicate, which she did not seem to realise at all; she was very amiable +in her ways to them, but cool, just as she was to their father.</p> + +<p>It must be confessed that we spent a great deal of time at our clubs in +discussing her, especially at the Tolstoi Club; for, as Minnie remarked, +she seemed very much in the Russian style, and it was not disagreeable, +after all, to think that we might have such a "type," as they call it, +among us.</p> + +<p>Just as we had begun to get accustomed to Mrs. Williams's dresses, and +her beauty, and her nonchalance, and held up our heads again, she +knocked us all over with another ten-strike. It was after a little +dinner given for them at the Millikens', and a good many people had +dropped in afterward, as they were apt to do after our little dinners, +to which of course we could not ask all our set, however intimate. Mrs. +Reynolds had come out from Boston, and as she was by way of being very +musical, though she never performed, she eagerly asked Willie Williams, +when he mentioned having lived so long in Sicily, whether he had ever +seen Giudotti, the great composer, who had retired to the seclusion of +his native island in disgust with the world, which he thought was going, +musically speaking, to ruin. We listened respectfully, for most of us +did not remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> hearing of the great Giudotti, but Willie replied +coolly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; we met him often; he was my wife's teacher. Loulou, I wish you +would sing that little thing of Mickiewicz, '<i>Panicz i Dziewczyna</i>,' +which Giudotti set for you."</p> + +<p>Loulie was leaning back on a sofa across the room, lazily swaying her +big black lace fan. She had on a lovely gown of real black Spanish lace, +and a great bunch of yellow roses on her bosom, which you would not have +thought would have looked well with her red hair; but they suited her +"Venetian colouring," as her husband called it—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">"Ni blanche ni cuivrée, mais dorée</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">D'un rayon de soleil."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Willie's strong point, or his weak point, as you may consider it, was in +quotations. She did not seem any too well pleased with the request, and +replied that she hardly thought people would care to hear any music; it +seemed a pity to stop the conversation—for all but herself were +chattering as fast as they could. But of course we all caught at the +idea, and the hostess was pressing, and after every mortal in the room +had entreated her, she rose, still reluctantly, and walked across the +room to the piano, saying that she hoped they really would not mind the +interruption.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>It sounded fine to have something specially composed for her, but we +were accustomed to hear Fanny Deane, the most musical one among us, sing +things set for her by her teacher—indeed, rather more than we could +have wished; and I thought now to hear something of the same sort—some +weak little melody all on a few notes, in a muffled little voice, with a +word or two, such as "weinend," or "veilchen," or "frühling," or +"stella," or "bella," distinguishable here and there, according as she +sang in German or Italian. So you may imagine how I, as well as all the +rest, was struck when, without a single note of prelude, her deep, low +voice thrilled through the whole room:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">"Why so late in the wood,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 27em;">Fair maid?"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>I never felt so lonely and eery in my life; and then in a moment the +wildly ringing music of the distant chase came, faint but growing nearer +all the time from the piano, while her voice rose sweeter and sadder +above it, till our pleasure grew more delicious as it almost melted into +pain. The adventures of the fair maid in the wood were, to say the +least, of a very compromising description; but we flattered ourselves +that our course of realistic fiction had made us less provincial and +old-fashioned, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> we knew that nobody minded this sort of thing +abroad, especially the Russians, of whom we supposed Mickiewicz was one +till somewhat languidly set right by Mrs. Williams.</p> + +<p>After that her singing made a perfect sensation all about Boston, the +more because it was so hard to get her to sing. Her style was peculiar, +and was a good deal criticised by those who had never heard her. She +never sang anything any one else did—that is, anybody you might call +any one, for I have heard her sometimes sing something that had gone the +rounds of all the hand-organs, and make it sound new again; but many of +her songs were in manuscript, some composed for her by Giudotti, and +others old things that he had picked up for her—folk-songs, and +ballads, and such. She always accompanied herself, and never from any +notes, and very often differently for the same song. Sometimes she would +sing a whole verse through without playing a note, and then improvise +something between. She always sang in English, which we thought queer, +when she had lived so long abroad; but she said Giudotti had told her +always to use the language of her audience, and Willie, who had a pretty +turn for versifying, used to translate for her. We felt rather piqued +that she should ignore the fact that we too had studied languages, but +we all agreed that she knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> how to set herself off, and indeed we +thought she carried her affectation beyond justifiable limits. She had +to be asked by every one in the room, and was always saying that it was +not worth hearing, and that she hoped people would tell her when they +had enough of it, though, indeed, she could rarely be induced to sing +more than twice. If her voice was praised, she said she had none; and +when she was asked to play, she would say she could not—she could only +accompany herself. A likely story—as if any one who could do that as +she could, could not play anything!—and we used to hear her, too, when +she was in her own house, with nobody there but her husband. As for him, +he overflowed with pride and delight in her music, and evidently much +more than pleased her, and sometimes he even made her blush—a thing she +rarely did—by his remarks, such as that if we really wanted to know how +Loulou could sing, we must hide in the nursery. It was while singing to +her baby, it appeared, that the great Giudotti had chanced to hear her, +and immediately implored the privilege of teaching her, for anything or +nothing.</p> + +<p>Minnie Mason said that it was impossible that a woman could sing like +that unless she had a history; and she spent much of her time and all of +her energy for several weeks in finding out what the history could be. +It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> wonderful how ingeniously she put this and that together, until +one day at the club she told us the whole story, and we wondered that we +had never thought of it before. It seems that before Loulie Latham was +married there had been a love-affair between her and Walter Dana. It is +not known exactly how far it went, but her feelings were very much +involved. She was too young, poor thing, and too simple, to know that +Walter Dana was not at all a marrying man; he could not have afforded +it, if he had wanted to ever so much. He was the sort of young man, you +know, who never does manage to afford to marry, though in other respects +he seemed to get on well enough. He had passed down through several +generations of girls, and was now rather attentive, in a harmless, +general sort of way, to the married women, and came to our dances.</p> + +<p>"And then," said Minnie, "when he did not speak, and she was so suddenly +left alone, and nearly penniless, after her mother's death, and Willie +Williams was so much in love with her, and so pressing—though I don't +believe he was ever in love with her more than he was with a dozen other +girls, only the circumstances were such, you know, that he could hardly +help proposing, he's so generous and impulsive. But he is not exactly +the sort of man to fall in love with, and his oddities have evidently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +worn upon her; and now she feels with bitter regret how different her +life might have been if she could have waited till her uncle left her +this money. Walter has got on better, and might be able to marry her +now, and she is young still—only twenty-nine. It is the wreck of two +lives, perhaps of three. Willie is most unsuspicious, but should he ever +find out——"</p> + +<p>We all shuddered with pleasurable horror at the thought that we were to +be spectators of a Russian novel in real life.</p> + +<p>"I have seen them together," went on Minnie, "and their tones and looks +were unmistakable. Surely you remember that Eliot Hall german he danced +with her, the winter before her mother's death—the only winter she ever +went into society; and I recollect now that he seemed very miserable +about something at the time of her marriage, only I never suspected why +then."</p> + +<p>"How very sad!" murmured Emmie Richards, a tender-hearted little thing.</p> + +<p>"It is sad," said Minnie, solemnly; "but love is a great and terrible +factor in life, and elective affinities are not to be judged by +conventional rules."</p> + +<p>For my own part, I thought Willie Williams a great deal nicer and more +attractive than Walter Dana, except, to be sure, that Walter did talk +and look like other people. Perhaps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> I said, things were not quite so +bad as Minnie made them out. It was to be hoped that poor Loulie would +pause at the brink. A great many such stories, especially American ones, +never come to anything, except that the heroine lives on, pining, with a +blighted life; and I thought, if that were all, Willie was not the kind +of man who would mind it much. Very likely he would never know it.</p> + +<p>Blanche Livermore said the idea of a woman pining all her days was +nonsense. All girls had affairs, but after they were married the cares +of a family soon knocked them all out of their heads. To be sure, +Blanche's five boys were enough to knock anything out; but Minnie told +us all afterward, separately, in confidence, that it was a little +jealousy on her part, because she had been once rather smitten with +Walter Dana herself. This seemed very realistic; and I must say my own +observations confirmed the truth of Minnie's story. Mrs. Williams did +look at times conscious and disturbed. One night, too, Tom and I called +on them to make arrangements about some concert tickets. Willie welcomed +us in his usual cordial fashion, saying Loulou would be down directly; +and in ten minutes or so down she came, in one of her loveliest evening +dresses, white embroidered crape, with a string of large amber beads +round her throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am afraid you are going out, Mrs. Williams; don't let us detain you."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," she said, with her usual indifference. "We are not going +anywhere. I was waiting upstairs to see the children tucked up in their +beds."</p> + +<p>It seemed like impropriety of behaviour in no slight degree to fag out +one's best clothes at home in that aimless way, but when in ten minutes +more Mr. Walter Dana walked in, her guilt was more plainly manifest, and +I shuddered to think what a tragedy was weaving round us. Only a day or +two after, I met her alone, near nightfall, hurrying toward her home, +and with something so odd about her whole air and manner that I stopped +short and asked, rather officiously perhaps, if Mr. Williams and the +children were well.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; very—very well, indeed!" she threw back, in a quick, defiant +tone, very unlike her usual self; and then, as I looked at her, I +perceived to my dismay, that she was crying bitterly. I felt so awkward +that I did not know what to say, and I stood staring, while she pulled +down her veil with a jerk, and hurried on. I could not help going into +Minnie's to ask her what she thought it could mean. Minnie, of course, +knew all about it.</p> + +<p>"She has been in here, and I have been giving her a piece of my mind. I +hope it will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> do her good. Crying, was she? I am very glad of it."</p> + +<p>"But, Minnie! how could you? how did you dare to? how did you begin?" I +asked in amazement, heightened by the disrespectful way in which Minnie +had dealt with elective affinities.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very easily. I began about her children, and said how very delicate +they looked, and that we all thought they needed a great deal of care."</p> + +<p>"But she does seem to take a great deal of care of them. She has them +with her most of the time."</p> + +<p>"Yes; that's just it. She always has them, because she wants to use them +for a cover. I am sure she takes them out in very unfit weather, and +keeps them out too long, just for a pretext to be strolling about with +him."</p> + +<p>"You certainly have more courage than I could muster up," I said. "What +else did you say?"</p> + +<p>"I did not say anything else out plainly; but I saw she understood +perfectly well what I meant."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how you ever dared to do it."</p> + +<p>"It is enough to make one do something to live next door to her as I do. +You know that Walter Dana has not been at either of the two last +dancing-classes. Well, it is just because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> he has been there, spending +the whole evening with her alone. I have been kept at home myself, and +have seen him with my own eyes going away before Mr. Williams gets home. +I can see their front gate from where I sit now, and the electric light +strikes full on every one who comes and goes."</p> + +<p>I thought this was about enough, but we were to have yet more positive +proof. One evening, soon after, we were all at the Jenkses'. It was a +large party, and the rooms were hot and crowded. The Williamses were +there, and Walter Dana; but he did not go near Loulie; he paid her no +more attention in company than anybody else—from motives of policy, +most probably—and she was even quieter than usual, and seemed weary and +depressed. Mrs. Jenks asked her to sing, and she refused with more than +her ordinary decision. "She would rather not sing to-night, if Mrs. +Jenks did not mind," and this refusal she repeated without variation. +But Mrs. Jenks did mind very much; she had asked some people from a +distance, on purpose to hear Mrs. Williams, and when she had implored in +vain, and made all her guests do so too, she finally, in despair, +directed herself to Mr. Williams, who seemed in very good spirits, as he +always did in company. It was enough for him to know that Professor +Perkins and Judge Wheelwright depended on hearing his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> wife, to rouse +his pride at once, and I heard him say to her coaxingly:</p> + +<p>"Come, Loulou, don't you think you could sing a little?"</p> + +<p>Loulou said something in so low a tone that I could not catch a word.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I know; but I really don't think there's any reason for +it—and they have all come to hear you, and it seems disobliging not +to."</p> + +<p>Again Loulie's reply was inaudible, all but the last words, "Cannot get +through with it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you will. Come, darling, won't you? Just once, to oblige me. +It won't last long."</p> + +<p>Loulie still looked most unwilling, but she rose, more as if too tired +to contest the point than anything else, and walked over to the piano. +Her cheeks were burning, but I saw her shiver as she sat down. Her +husband followed her, looking a little anxious, and I wondered if they +had been having a scene. Surely the course of dissimulation she was +keeping up must have its inevitable effect on her nerves and temper, but +her voice rang out as thrilling and triumphant as ever. She sang an +English song to the old French air <i>Musette de Nina</i>. It was a silly, +sentimental thing, all about parted loves and hopeless regrets; but the +most foolish words used to sound grandly expressive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> as she gave them. +When she came to the last line, "The flowers of life will never bloom +more," at "never" her accompaniment stopped, her voice shook, struggled +with the next words, paused, and a look of despair transformed her whole +face. I followed the direction of her eyes, and caught sight of Walter +Dana, just visible in the doorway, and, like every other mortal in the +room, gazing on her in rapt attention. It was like looking on a soul in +torture, and we all shuddered as we saw it. What must it have been for +him? He grew crimson, and made an uneasy movement, which seemed to break +the spell; for, Loulie, rousing herself with an effort, struck a ringing +chord, and taking up the words on a lower note, carried them through to +the end, her voice gaining strength with the repetition that the air +demanded. No one asked her to sing again; and when she rose Walter Dana +had disappeared, and the Williamses left very soon afterward.</p> + +<p>Things had come to such a pass now that we most sincerely repented our +desire for a Tolstoi novel among us; and if this was life as it was in +Russia, we heartily wished it could be confined to that country. We felt +that something shocking was sure to happen soon, and so it did; but if +you go through with an earthquake, I am told, it never seems at all like +what you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> expected, and this came in a most unlooked-for way. It was on +a day when our Tolstoi Club met at Minnie Mason's, and she looked really +ill and miserable. She said she had enough to make her so; and when we +were all assembled, she asked one of us to shut all the doors, lest the +servants should hear us, and then took out, from a locked drawer in her +desk, a newspaper. It was the kind of paper that we had always regarded +as improper to buy, or even to look at, and we wondered how Minnie had +ever got hold of it; but she unfolded it nervously, and showed us a +marked passage:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is rumoured that proceedings for a divorce will soon be +taken by a prominent Boston artist, whose lovely wife is +widely known in first-class musical circles. The +co-respondent is an old admirer of the lady's, as well as an +intimate friend of her husband's."</p></div> + +<p>We all read these words with horror, and Emmie Richards began to cry.</p> + +<p>"We ought to have done <i>something</i> to prevent it," said Blanche, +decidedly.</p> + +<p>"What could we do?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Poor Willie hasn't a relation who could look after those children," +murmured Bessie Milliken.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>We all felt moved to offer our services upon the spot, but just then +there came a loud ring at the door-bell. We all started. It could not be +a belated member of the club, for we always walked right in. Minnie had +given orders, as usual, to be denied to any chance caller; but in a +moment the door opened, and the maid announced that Mr. Williams was in +the hall, and wished to see Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Ask Mr. Williams, Ellen, if he will please to leave a message; tell him +I am engaged with my Tolstoi Club."</p> + +<p>"I did, ma'am; but he says he wishes to see the club. He says it is on +very particular business, ma'am," as Minnie hesitated, and looked for +our opinion. Our amazement was so great that it deprived us of words, +and Minnie, after a moment, could only bow her head in silent +affirmation to the girl, who vanished directly. Could Mrs. Williams have +eloped, and had her husband rushed round to claim the sympathy of his +female friends, among whom were so many of his old flames? It was a most +eccentric proceeding, but we felt that if any man were capable of it, it +was poor Willie. But even this conjecture failed, and our very reason +seemed forsaking us, as Mr. Williams walked into the room, followed by +Mr. Walter Dana, who looked rather awkward on the occasion, while +Willie, on the contrary, was quite at his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> ease, and was faultlessly +dressed in a London walking-suit of the newest cut; for he had plenty of +such things, though he hated to wear them. He carried a large note-case +in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mrs. Mason," he began, "good-morning—" with a bow that +took us all in; and without an invitation, which Minnie was too confused +to give, he comfortably settled himself on a vacant chair, which +proceeding Mr. Dana imitated, though with much less self-assurance, +while his conductor, as he appeared to be, went on: "I beg your pardon +for disturbing you; but I am sorry to find that you have been giving +credence, if not circulation, to some very unpleasant and utterly false +rumours concerning my wife's character. I do not know, nor do I care to +know, how they originated, but I wish to put a stop to them; and as Mr. +Dana is the other person chiefly concerned in them, I have brought him +with me."</p> + +<p>I believe we felt as if we should like to sink into the earth; nay, it +seemed to me that we must have done so, and come out in China, where +everything is different. Willie Williams, without a lisp, without a +smile, grave as a judge, and talking like a lawyer opening a case—it +was a transformation to inspire any one with awe. He saw that we were +frightened,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> and proceeded in a milder tone, but one equally strange in +our ears.</p> + +<p>"Don't think I mean to blame you. I know women will talk, and I do not +believe any of you meant the least harm, or dreamed of things going as +far as they have. Indeed, Louise [!] attaches no importance to +it whatever. She says it is only idle gossip, and will die out if let +alone, and she did not wish me to take any notice of it; but I felt that +I must do so on my own account, if not on hers. I don't care what trash +gets into such journals as that," and he looked scornfully at the +unhappy newspaper, which we wished we had never touched with a pair of +tongs; "but I do not want our friends and neighbours to think more +meanly of me than I deserve, when I have it in my power to put a stop to +it at once. Mr. Dana, is it true that you and Mrs. Williams were ever in +love with each other?"</p> + +<p>"It is not," replied Mr. Dana, who began to take courage under the +skilful peroration of his chief. "I was never on any terms with Mrs. +Williams, when she was Miss Latham, but those of the very slightest, +and, of course, most respectful acquaintance. I don't believe we ever +exchanged a dozen words."</p> + +<p>"I believe you," murmured Blanche Livermore, who sat next to me, and +whose unruly tongue nothing could long subdue; and indeed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> we had none +of us supposed that Loulie Latham conducted her love-affairs by means of +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Did you dance the german with her at the Eliot Hall Assembly on January +4, 188-?"</p> + +<p>"I regret very much that I never had the pleasure of dancing the german +with Mrs. Williams. At the party to which you refer I danced with Miss +Wilmerding."</p> + +<p>We all remembered Alice Wilmerding and her red hair, just the shade of +Loulie Latham's, but which had not procured her an artist for a husband; +indeed, it had not procured any at all, for she was still single.</p> + +<p>"Neither," pursued Willie Williams, "is there any truth in the report +that Louise was obliged to marry me for a support. She had no need to do +so, being possessed of very sufficient means of her own, as I can show +by her bank-account at that date."</p> + +<p>How he had got hold of every scrap we had said to one another, and even +of all we had thought, we could not imagine then, but we afterward found +out that he had procured every item from the editor of that horrid +paper, under threats of instant personal and legal attack; and as to how +this person happened to know so much, I can only advise you not to say +or think anything you would be ashamed to have known while there are +such papers in existence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The only reason that Loulou and I married each other," went on Loulou's +husband, "is that we loved each other; and we love each other now, if +possible, twice as much as we did then. If you think she does not care +for me because she is not demonstrative in company, you are mistaken. +She gives me as much proof of it as I want. We all have our +peculiarities, and I know I have a great many which she puts up with +better than most women would. Of course I don't expect her to be without +hers either; but they don't trouble me any more than mine do her, and, +besides, most of what has struck you as singular in her behaviour can be +easily explained. You have thought she was conceited about her music, +but it's no such thing; she has not an atom of conceit in her; indeed, +she thinks too humbly of herself. She has heard so much music of the +highest class that she thinks little of any drawing-room performance, +her own or anybody else's, and her reluctance to sing is genuine, for +she has a horror of being urged or complimented out of mere politeness. +You are not pleased, I hear" [<i>how</i> could he know that?], "that she +refused to join all your clubs and classes; one reason was that she +really did not care to. Every one has a right to one's own taste; she +has met a great deal of artistic and literary society abroad, and has +become accustomed to live among people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> who are doing something; and it +is tedious to her to go about so much with people who are always talking +about things, as we are given to do here. She is really fond of hard +reading, as but few women are; and she likes better, for instance, to +stay at home and spend her time in reading Dante by herself in the +original, than to go to a club and hear him talked over, with a little +skimming from a translation interspersed. She dresses to please me and +herself, and not to be envied or admired; and if she has a fondness for +pretty clothes for their own sake, that is not surprising, when she had +so little chance to indulge it when she was a girl."</p> + +<p>Here he paused, and it was high time, for we were growing restive under +the catalogue of his wife's virtues; but in a moment he resumed.</p> + +<p>"There is another reason, too, why she has not been more sociable with +you all. You don't know how unhappy Loulou is about her children; but +you do know, perhaps, that we have lost two,"—here his voice faltered +slightly, with some faint suggestion of the Willie Williams of our old +acquaintance,—"and she is terribly afraid that the others will not live +to grow up. I don't think them as fragile as she does; but they do look +delicate, there's no denying it. We came home, and here, very much on +their account; but yours are all so healthy and blooming that it's +almost too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> much for poor Loulou sometimes, especially when people—" he +was considerate enough not to look at Minnie—"tell her that they look +poorly, and that she ought to be more careful of them. How can she be? +She is always with them—more than is good for her; but she has an idea +that they won't eat as much as they ought, or go to sleep when they +should, without her; and she never leaves them at lunch, which is, of +course, their dinner. I think she is a little morbid about them, but I +can't torment her to leave it off; and I hope, as they get older and +stronger, she'll be more cheerful. It is this that makes her out of +spirits sometimes, and not any foolish nonsense about being in love with +anybody else."</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon âne parle, et même il parle bien!</i>" whispered the incorrigible +Blanche, and though I don't think it fair to call Willie Williams an ass +at any time, our surprise at his present fluency was nearly as great as +the prophet's. He seemed now to have made an end of what he wished to +say, but Mr. Dana, whose presence we had nearly forgotten, looked at him +meaningly, as if in request.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—I had forgotten—but it is only due to Mr. Dana to say that he +has been coming to my house a good deal lately on business. I would tell +you all about it, but it's rather private." But, humbled as we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> were, we +could not hear this without a protesting murmur, disclaiming all vulgar +curiosity. I did, indeed, wonder for a moment if he were painting +Walter's portrait; if he were, I did not think it strange that the +latter looked a little sheepish about it; but I afterward found out +through Tom that it concerned some good offices of them both for an old +friend in distress. "When he came to my house in the evening when I was +out, it was to meet another person, and Mrs. Williams, half the time, +never saw either of them. As to that song at Mrs. Jenks's party, which, +I hear, created so much comment, she was feeling very unhappy that night +because little Violet had a cold, and she thought she might have made a +mistake in trying to keep her out, and toughen her, as you do your +children here. Perhaps that heightened her expression; but as to +breaking down on the last line of the song, that effect was one of +Giudotti's lessons, and he taught her how to give that look. He always +said she had the making of a great tragic actress in her. She does try +to look at the wall," went on Willie, simply, "but it was so crowded +there that she could not, and Mr. Dana could not help standing in the +way of it. I think I have said all I need say—and I hope you won't mind +it or think I am very impertinent, but I couldn't bear to have this +thing going on; and I hope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> we shall all be as good friends as we were +before, and that it will all be very soon forgotten." And he bowed and +departed, followed by Mr. Dana, with alacrity.</p> + +<p>We were doubtful as to these happy results. We could all admire Willie +Williams for standing up so gallantly for his wife, but we did not like +her any the better for being so successfully stood up for, and we felt +that we could never forget the unpleasant sensation he had given us. It +took a long course of seeing him in his old shape and presentment among +us—working in the same flamboyant clothes, at paintings as execrable as +ever; with the same lisp, and the same trip and jerk, and the same easy +good nature, and trifling enthusiasms—to forget that he had ever +inspired us with actual fear, and might again, though he never has. We +came also, in course of time, to like Loulou better, though it was +rather galling to see how little she heeded the matter that cost us all +so much remorse; but she lost her reserve in great measure as her +children grew healthier and more like other people's. I think the +hatchet was fairly buried for good and all when, in another year, she +had another baby, a splendid boy weighing nine pounds and three +quarters, at whose birth more enthusiasm was manifested in Babyland than +on any similar occasion before, and who was loaded with the most +beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> presents, one in particular from Minnie Mason, who was much +better, for her recovery of health dates from that sudden incursion into +our Tolstoi Club, and the shock it gave her.</p> + +<p>I should have said as to that, that after the men had left us Blanche +Livermore exclaimed, "Well, girls, I think we are pretty sufficiently +crushed!"</p> + +<p>This was generous of Blanche, when she was the only one among us who had +ever expressed any incredulity as to the "Russian novel," as we called +it. "The fact is," she went on, "I have come to the conclusion that we +have not yet advanced to the realistic period here; we are living in the +realms of the ideal; and, what is worse, I fear I am so benighted that I +like it best; don't you?" And, encouraged by an inarticulate but +affirmatory murmur from all of us, she proceeded:</p> + +<p>"Let us all agree to settle down contentedly behind the age in our +provinciality; and, that we may keep so, let us cut the realists in +fiction, and take up something they don't approve of. I vote that we +devote the rest of the season to a good thorough course of Walter +Scott!"</p> + +<p>And so we did.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="200" height="79" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="400" height="91" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="A_LITTLE_FOOL" id="A_LITTLE_FOOL"></a>A LITTLE FOOL</h2> + +<p>"What, my dear Marian! And do you really and truly mean to say you +thought of taking the girl without going to ask her character!"</p> + +<p>"There are so many difficulties about it. You see, she lived last with +Mrs. Donald Craighead for two years, and that would be quite enough for +a character. They all went abroad in a great hurry on account of Mr. +Craighead's health, and Mrs. Craighead promised to give her one, but +forgot it, and she couldn't bear to bother them when they were all in +such trouble. I know myself that all that about them is true."</p> + +<p>"So do I; but that does not prove that she ever lived with them. Cannot +she refer to any of the family?"</p> + +<p>"No; she did nothing but laundry work there, and never saw any of their +friends, I fancy; but she does have a written character from the family +she lived with before them, very nice people in South Boston."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's their name?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember," said Miss Marian Carter, blushing, "but I have it +written down at home."</p> + +<p>"I should certainly go there, if I were you."</p> + +<p>"It is so far off, and I never went there in my life."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought. It sounds very suspicious. Of course there are a few +nice people in South Boston; they have to live there because they own +factories and things, and have to be near them; but then, again, there +are such dreadful neighbourhoods there. Most likely she depends on your +not taking the trouble, and you will find the number she gave you over +some low grog-shop."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I should be so frightened! I really do not think I can go!"</p> + +<p>"You surely ought not to risk taking her without, and very likely have +her turn out an accomplice of burglars, like that Norah of mine, through +whom I lost so much silver."</p> + +<p>"I thought you had a character with her."</p> + +<p>"So I did, or I should not have taken her. I make it a principle not to. +It only shows how great the danger is with a character; without one it +amounts to a certainty."</p> + +<p>"She was such a nice-looking girl!"</p> + +<p>"That makes no difference. I always mistrust maids who look too nice. +They are sure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> to have some story, or scrape, or something, like that +Florence of mine, who looked so much of a lady, and turned out to be a +clergyman's daughter, and had run away from her husband—a most +respectable man. He came to the house after her, and gave no end of +trouble."</p> + +<p>"But this girl did not look at all like that; not a bit above her place, +but so neatly dressed, and with a plain, sensible way about her; and her +name is Drusilla Elms—such a quaint, old-fashioned, American-sounding +name, quite refreshing to hear."</p> + +<p>"It sounds very like an assumed name. The very worst woman I ever had +was named Bathsheba Fogg; she turned out to have been a chorus girl at +some low theatre, and must have picked it up from some farce or other."</p> + +<p>"Then you really think I ought to go to South Boston?"</p> + +<p>"I should do so in your place," replied Mrs. William Treadwell.</p> + +<p>This gave but scant encouragement, for Marian could not but feel that +the result of her friend's going and that of her own, might be very +different; and Mrs. Treadwell, as she watched her visitor off, smiled +good-humouredly, but pityingly. "Poor dear Marian! What a little fool +she is to swallow everything that she is told in that way! It is a +wonder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> that the Carters ever have a decent servant in their house."</p> + +<p>However much of a wonder it might be, it was still a fact; but it did +not occur to Marian, as she bent her way homeward, to revive her feeble +self-confidence, crushed flat by her friend's scorn, with any +recollection that such fearful tales as she had just heard were without +a parallel in her own experience. It is to be feared that she was a +little fool, though she kept her mother's house very well and carefully, +if, indeed, it were her mother's house. Nobody but the tax-gatherer knew +to whom it really belonged, and he forgot between each assessment. It +stood on Burroughs street, Jamaica Plain, a neighbourhood that still +boasts an air of dignified repose. It was without the charm of a really +old-fashioned house, or even such as may be possessed by a modern +imitation of one; indeed it bore the stamp of that unfortunate period +which may be called the middle age of American architecture, extending, +at a rough estimate, from 1820 to 1865; but it was a well-built house, +and looked, as at present inhabited, a pleasant abode enough, of +sufficient size to accommodate a numerous female flock—Marian's +grandmother and her great-aunt, her mother and her aunt, her widowed +sister and two children, a trained nurse who was treated as one of the +family,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> three servants, and Marian herself to make up the round dozen. +The grandmother had lost the use of her limbs, and the great-aunt that +of her mind; the mother and the trained nurse were devoted to them, and +the aunt to philanthropic objects, and the sister to her children; so +the housekeeper's duties devolved on Marian, though she was still but a +child in her elders' eyes, and were well discharged, as they all +allowed, though qualifying their praise with the remark that it was +"easy enough to keep a house without a man in it."</p> + +<p>As Marian Carter passed along bustling, suburban Centre Street, she +looked a very flower of the Western world of feminine liberty; fine and +fair, free and fearless, coming and going at her own pleasure, on foot +or by the horse-cars, those levellers of privilege; no duenna to track +her steps, no yashmak or veil to hide her charms. Yet the fact was that +she knew less of men than if she had lived in a harem or a convent. She +had no sultan, no father confessor. She could not, like Miss Pole of +Cranford memory, claim to know the other sex by virtue of her father +having been a man, for Marian's father had died before she was born. Her +sister Isabel and she had had friends, and had gone into society in a +mild way, and being pretty girls, had met with a little general +attention, but nothing ever came of it. The family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> never entertained, +except now and then an old friend to tea, their means and opportunity +being small; nor could young men venture to call. The grandmother had +been a great invalid before she lost the use of her limbs, and the +great-aunt a formidable person before she lost that of her mind, while +Aunt Caroline from her youth upward had developed a great distaste for +the society of men, even when viewed as objects of philanthropy.</p> + +<p>When Isabel was four and twenty she went to New York to visit some +cousins, and though they lived very quietly, she made the acquaintance +of a young civil engineer, at home on a vacation from his work in the +United States of Colombia, who had married and borne her off after the +briefest possible courtship, never to see her old home again till she +came back, ten years after, a widow with two children, to eke out her +small means by the shelter of the family abode. I cannot delay the +humiliating confession, postponed as long as may be for the sake of the +artistic unity of my picture, that the youngest of these children was a +boy, if, as his mother was wont to plead, "a very little one." He was +dressed in as unboyish a fashion as possible, and being christened +Winthrop, was always called Winnie. He was a quiet, gentle child, kept +down by his position; but though thus made the best of, he was felt to +be an inconvenience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> and an encumbrance, if not now, certainly in the +future. There was no end to the trouble it would make when Winnie grew +older, and required a room to himself, and would be obliged to go to a +boys' school, which might even lead up to the direful contingency of his +"bringing home other boys."</p> + +<p>After Isabel's departure, Marian, though the prettier of the two, found +it dull to go about alone. No one asked her to New York; the cousin had +died, and the cousin's husband had married again; and when she grew past +the dancing age, perhaps earlier than she need, she went nowhere where +she had any chance of meeting any men but the husbands of one or two +married friends, and she was such a little fool that she fancied they +despised her for being an old maid. She knew she was five-and-thirty on +her last birthday, and was foolish enough to be afraid and ashamed of +owning to it. She need not have done so, for she did not look a day +older than twenty-five; but the memories of her contemporaries were +pitiless.</p> + +<p>She enjoyed her housekeeping, which gave her life some object, and her +intercourse with her butcher, a fine young fellow who admired her +hugely, was the nearest approach to a love-affair in which she had ever +indulged, so much sentiment did he contrive to throw about the legs of +mutton and the Sunday roast. Though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> honestly thinking herself happy, +and her position a fortunate one, she relished a change, which seldom +came, and was glad of the prospect of a visit to South Boston, now that +she could conscientiously say she ought to go since Emma Treadwell had +ordered it. The excitement of going off the beaten track was heightened +by the mystery which invested the affair. Marian had not dared to +confess to her managing friend that the "written character" to which she +referred had struck her rather oddly when the neat, civil, young, but +not too young woman whose appearance had so favourably impressed her had +handed it to her with an air which seemed to indicate that nothing more +need be said on the subject, although it only said, "Drusilla Elms +refers by permission to —— Hayward, City Point, South Boston," in a +great, scrawling, masculine-looking hand. The name was easy enough to +read, a painful effort having evidently been made to write thus much +legibly; but the title, be it Mr., Mrs., or Miss, was so utterly +unreadable that Marian, who dreaded, like most timid people, to put a +direct question, ventured upon an indirect one:</p> + +<p>"Is—Mr. Hayward a widower?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no, ma'am!" replied Drusilla, emphatically.</p> + +<p>"And—they—still live there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, yes, ma'am!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marian was very glad that the Saturday she chose for her expedition was +Aunt Caroline's day for the Women's and Children's Hospital, and that +Isabel had taken Minna and Winnie for a holiday trip into town to see +the Art Museum, which left fewer people at home to whom to explain her +errand, and to whose comments to reply. Mrs. Carter said it was silly to +go so far, and if she couldn't be satisfied to take the girl without, +she had better find some one near by. The trained nurse, who was slowly +but surely getting the whole household under her control, said that Miss +Carter's beautiful new spring suit would be ruined going all the way to +South Boston in the horse-cars; and Mrs. Carter, who would never have +thought of this herself, seconded her. Marian did not argue the point, +but she wore the dress nevertheless. She never felt that anything she +wore made any impression on any one she knew, but she could not help +fancying that if she had the chance she might impress strangers. No one +she knew ever called her pretty, and perhaps five-and-thirty was too old +to be thought so; and yet, if there was any meaning in the word, it +might surely be applied to the soft, shady darkness of her hair and +eyes, and the delicate bloom of her cheeks and lips, set off by that +silver-grey costume, with its own skilfully blended lights and shades of +silk and cashmere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> and the purple and white lilacs that were wreathed +together on her small bonnet. She made a bad beginning, for while still +enjoying the effect of her graceful draperies as she entered the +horse-car for Boston, she carelessly caught the handle of her nice grey +silk sunshade in the door, and snapped it short in the middle. She could +have cried, though the man who always mended their umbrellas assured +her, with a bow and smile, that it should be mended, when she called for +it on her way back, "so that she would never know it;" but it deprived +her costume of the finishing touch, and she really needed it on this +warm sunny day; then, it was a bad omen, and she was foolish enough to +believe in omens. Her disturbance prevented her from observing much of +the route after she had drifted into a car for South Boston, and had +assured herself that it was the right one. Perhaps this was as well, as +the first part of the way was sufficiently uninviting to have frightened +her out of her intention had she looked about her. When at last she did, +they were passing along a wide street lined with sufficiently +substantial brick buildings, chiefly devoted to business, crossed by +narrower ones of small wooden houses more or less respectable in +appearance; but surely no housemaid who would suit them could ever have +served in one of these. Great rattling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> drays squeezed past the car, and +Chinese laundrymen noiselessly got in and out. The one landmark she had +heard of in South Boston, and for aught she knew the reason of its +existence, was the Perkins Institution for the Blind, which her Aunt +Caroline sometimes visited. But she passed the Institution, and still +went on and on. That the world extended so far in that direction was an +amazement in itself; she knew that there must be something there to fill +up, but she had had a vague idea that it might be water, which is so +accommodating in filling up the waste spaces of the terrestrial globe. +Finally the now nearly empty car came to a full stop at the foot of a +hill, the track winding off around it, and the conductor, of whom she +had asked her way, approached her with the patronising deference which +men in his position were very apt to assume to her: "Lady, you'll have +to get out here, and walk up the hill. Keep straight ahead, and you +can't miss it."</p> + +<p>"And can I take the car here when I come back?" asked Marian, clinging +as if to an ark of refuge.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said the man, encouragingly; "we're along every ten minutes. +It ain't far off."</p> + +<p>Marian slowly touched one little foot, and then another, to the unknown +and almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> foreign soil of South Boston. She looked wistfully after the +car till it turned a corner, and left her stranded, before she began +slowly to climb the hill. It was warm, and she missed her sunshade. "I +shall be shockingly burned!" she thought. She looked about her, and +acknowledged that the street was a pleasant, sunny one, and that its +commonplace architecture gained in picturesqueness by its steep ascent. +As she neared the top the houses grew larger, scattered among garden +grounds, and she at last found the number she looked for on the +gate-post of one of the largest. She walked up a brick-paved path to the +front door between thick box borders, inclosing beds none too well +weeded, but whose bowery shrubs and great clumps of old-fashioned bulbs +and perennials had acquired the secure possession of the soil that comes +with age. Behind them were grape-vines trained on trellises, over which +rose the blossoming heads of tall old cherry-trees, and through the +interstices in the flowery wall might be caught glimpses of an old +garden where grass and flowers and vegetables mingled at haphazard. It +dated from the days when people planted gardens with a view to what they +could get out of them, regardless of effect; and the house, in like +manner, had been built to live in rather than to look at. No one could +say how it had looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> before trees had shaded it and creepers enveloped +it so completely. The veranda which ran around it was well sheltered +from the street, fortunately, thought Marian, for the bamboo chairs and +sofas, piled up with rugs and cushions, with which it was crowded, were +heaped with newspapers, and hats, and tennis-rackets, and riding-whips, +and garden-tools, and baskets, tossed carelessly about. On the door-mat +lay a large dog, who flopped his tail up and down with languid courtesy +as she approached. She was terribly afraid of him, but thought it safer +to face him than to turn her back upon him, and edging by him, gave a +feeble ring at the door-bell. No one came. She rang again with more +energy, and then, after a brief pause, the door was opened by a +half-grown boy.</p> + +<p>Marian only knew a very few families who aspired to have their doors +opened by anything more than a parlour-maid, and these had butlers of +unimpeachable respectability. But this young person had a bright, but +roguish look, which accorded better with the page of farce than with one +of real life. He seemed surprised to see her, though he bowed civilly.</p> + +<p>"Is Mrs. Hayward at home?" asked Marian, in the most dulcet of small +voices; and as he looked at her with a stare that seemed as if it might +develop into a grin, she added, "or any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> of the ladies of the family? I +only wish to see one of them on business."</p> + +<p>"Walk in, please, ma'am, and I'll see," faltered the porter, appearing +perplexed; and he opened the door, and ushered Marian across a wide hall +with a great, old-fashioned staircase at the further end—a place that +would have had no end of capabilities about it in a modern decorator's +eyes, but which looked now rather bare and unfurnished, save for pegs +loaded with hats and coats, and stands of umbrellas—into a long, low +room that looked crowded enough. Low bookcases ran around the walls, and +there were a great many tables heaped with books and magazines, and a +piano littered with music in a most slovenly condition; a music-stand or +two, and a violin and violoncello in their cases clustered about it. The +walls over the books were hung with old portraits, which looked as if +they might be valuable; among them were squeezed in whips, and long +pipes on racks, and calendars, and over them were hung horns and heads +of unknown beasts, whose skins lay on the floor. Over the fireplace hung +a sword and a pair of pistols in well-worn cases, but they were free +from dust, which many of the furnishings were not. The long windows at +the side opened on to the veranda, which was even more carelessly +strewed with the family possessions than at the front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> door, and from +which steps led down to a tennis-court in faultless trim, the only +orderly spot on the premises.</p> + +<p>What a poor housekeeper Mrs. Hayward must be! She must let the men of +the family do exactly as they pleased, and there must be at least half a +dozen of them, while not a trace of feminine occupation was to be seen. +No servant from here could hope to suit the Carter household, no matter +how good a character she brought. But somehow the intensely masculine +air of the place had a wild fascination for Marian herself, in spite of +warning remembrances of how much her family would be shocked. There was +something delicious in the freedom with which letters and papers were +tossed about, and books piled up anywhere, while their proper homes +stood vacant, and in the soothing, easy tolerance with which persecuted +dust was allowed to find a quiet resting-place. A pungent and pleasing +perfume pervaded the premises, which seemed appropriate and agreeable to +her delicate senses, even though she supposed it must be tobacco-smoke. +She had smelled tobacco only as it exhaled from passers in the street, +and surely this fine, ineffable aroma came from a different source than +theirs! While she daintily inhaled it as she looked curiously about, her +ears became aware of singular sounds—a subdued scuffling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> and scraping +at the door at the further end of the room, and a breathing at its +keyhole, which gave her an unpleasant sensation of being watched; and +she instantly sat stiffly upright and looked straight before her, her +heart beating with wonder and affright lest the situation might prove +actually dangerous. The sounds suddenly ceased, and in a moment more a +halting step was heard outside, and a gentleman came in at the other +door—a tall man, whose hair was thick, but well sprinkled with grey; +whose figure, lean and lank, had a certain easy swing about its motions, +in spite of a very perceptible limp; and whose face, brown and thin, and +marred by a long scar right across the left cheek, had something +attractive in its expression as he came forward with a courteous, +expectant look. Marian could only bow.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon; did you wish to see me?" inquired the stranger, in a +deep, low voice that sounded as if it might be powerful on occasion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am very sorry to trouble you! I only wanted to see the mistress +of the house, if she is able——"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I am the only person who answers to that description." +There was a good-natured twinkle in his eye, and he had a pleasant +smile, but his evident amusement abashed her. "I keep my own house," he +went on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought there was a Mrs. Hayward!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to say that there is none. But I am Mr. Hayward, and shall +be very glad if I can be of any service to you."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to disturb you," said Marian, blushing deeply, while Mr. +Hayward, with, "Will you allow me?" drew up a chair and sat down, as if +to put her more at her ease. "It is only—only—" here she came to a +dead stop. "I do not want to take up so much of your time," she +confusedly stammered.</p> + +<p>"Not at all; I shall be very happy—" he paused too, not knowing how to +fill up the blank, and waited quietly, while Marian sought frantically +in her little bag for a paper which was, of course, at the very bottom. +"It is only," she began again—"only to ask you about the character of a +chambermaid named Drusilla—yes, Drusilla Elms. I think it must be you +she refers to; at least I copied the address from the reference she +showed me; here it is," handing him the slip of paper; and as he took +out his eyeglass to study it, "only I couldn't tell—I didn't +know—whether it was Mr., or Mrs., or what it was before the name, I am +very sorry."</p> + +<p>"So am I. It has been the great misfortune of my life, I assure you, +that I write such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> confounded—such an execrable hand. Pray accept my +apologies for it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was not a bad hand!—not at all! It was my own stupidity! I +suppose you really did give her the character, then?"</p> + +<p>"In spite of your politeness, I am afraid I too plainly recognise the +bewildering effect of my own scrawl. I think I must have given her the +reference, though I don't remember doing so."</p> + +<p>"The name is so peculiar——"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the fact is that our old Catherine, who has been cook here for +a longer time than I can reckon, generally engages our other maid for +us, and she dislikes to change the name, and calls them all Margaret. I +think we had a very nice Margaret two years ago, but I will go and ask +Catherine; she may recollect."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't trouble yourself! I have no doubt that you are quite +right—none at all!"</p> + +<p>"But I have so many doubts, I should like to be a little surer; and if +you will excuse me for a moment—well! <i>What</i>, in the devil's name, are +you up to now?"</p> + +<p>It must be explained that by this time he had reached the further door, +and that the sudden close of his speech was addressed, not to Marian, +but to some invisible person, or rather persons; for the subdued +laughter which responded, the very equivalent to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> girlish giggle, +surely came from more than one pair of boyish lungs. Some stifled +speech, too, was heard, to which the master of the house replied, "Go to +——, then, and be quick about it!" as he closed the door behind him, +leaving Marian trembling with apprehension lest he might be mad or +drunk. And yet if this were swearing, and she feared it was, there was +something gratifying in the sound of a good, round, mouth-filling oath, +especially when contrasted with the extreme and punctilious deference of +his speech to her. He came back in a moment, and, standing before her +with head inclined, said, as if apologising for some misdeed of his own:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, but Catherine is out, doing her marketing. She will +probably return soon, if you do not mind waiting."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Marian, shocked with the idea that her presence might be +inconvenient; "I could not possibly wait! I am in a very great hurry."</p> + +<p>"Then, if you will allow me to write what she says? I promise," he +added, with another humorous twinkle in his eye, "to try and write my +very best."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, if it is not too much trouble," said Marian, rising, and +edging toward the door as if she had some hopes of getting off +unnoticed. It was confusing to have him follow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> her with an air of +expectation, she could not imagine of what, though she had a +consciousness, too, of having forgotten something, which made her +linger, trying to recollect it. He slowly turned the handle of the outer +door, and, opening it for her exit, seemed waiting for her to say +something—what, she racked her brains in vain to discover. He looked +amused again, and as if he would have spoken himself; but Marian, with a +sudden start, exclaimed, "Oh, dear, it rains!" She had not noticed how +dark the sky was growing, but to judge by the looks of the pavement, it +had been quietly showering for some time.</p> + +<p>"So it does!" said he. "That is a pity. I fear you are not very well +protected against it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it doesn't matter!" cried Marian, recklessly; "it is only a step to +the horse-cars."</p> + +<p>"Enough for you to get very wet, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>"It isn't of the least consequence. I have nothing on that will +hurt—nothing at all!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Hayward looked admiringly and incredulously at the lilacs on her +bonnet. "I can hardly suppose your flowers are real ones, though +certainly they look very much like them; if they are not, I fear a +shower will scarcely prove of advantage to them. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> must do me the +honour of letting me see you to the car." As he spoke he extracted from +the stand an enormous silk umbrella with a big handle, nearly as large +as Marian herself.</p> + +<p>"I could not think of it!" she cried, and hurried down the wet steps, +sweeping them with the dainty plaiting round the edge of her silvery +skirt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you must!" he went on in a tone of lazy good humour, yet as one +not accustomed to be refused. There was something paternal in his manner +gratifying to her, for as he could not be much over fifty, he must think +her much younger than she really was.</p> + +<p>"Don't hurry; there is a car every ten minutes, and a very good place to +wait in; there—take care of the wet box, please, with your dress, and +take my arm, if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you! Really, I am very well covered!" protested Marian, +squeezing herself and her gown into the smallest possible space. The big +umbrella was up before she knew it, and he was hobbling along the brick +path by her side, in an old pair of yellow leather slippers as ill +fitted to keep out the wet as her own shining little shoes.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry you should have been caught in this way," he said +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope you have not far to go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, indeed! That is—yes, rather far; but when I get into the car, +I am all right, because it meets—I mean, I can take a cab. It is very +easy to get about in town, you know." She turned while he opened the +gate, and caught sight of the front windows, thronged, like the gates of +Paradise Lost, with faces which might indeed have served as models for a +very realistic study, in modern style, of cherubim, being those of +healthy boys of all ages from twelve to twenty, each wearing a broad +grin of delight.</p> + +<p>"Confound 'em!" muttered her conductor in a low tone, but Marian caught +the words, and the accompanying grimace which he flung back over his +shoulder. Could his remarkable house be a boys' school? If so, he was +the very oddest teacher, and his discipline the most extraordinary, she +had ever heard of; it was too easy of egress, surely, to be a private +lunatic asylum, a thought which had already excited her fears.</p> + +<p>"Please lower your head a little, Miss—" he paused for the name, but +she did not fill up the gap; "the creepers hang so low here," and he +carefully held the umbrella so as best to protect her from the dripping +sprays.</p> + +<p>"How very pretty your garden is!" she said as he closed the gate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is a sad straggling place; we all run pretty wild here, I am +afraid."</p> + +<p>"But it is so picturesque!"</p> + +<p>"Picturesque it may be, and we get a good deal of fruit and vegetables +out of it; it isn't a show garden, but it is a comfort to have any +breathing-place in a city."</p> + +<p>"This seems a very pleasant neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>"Hum! well, yes; I think it pleasant enough. It is my old home; near the +water, too, and the boys like the boating. It's out of the way of +society, but then, we have no ladies to look after. It is easy enough, +you know, for men to come and go anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Coming and going anyhow" rang with a delicious thrill of freedom in +Marian's ears, and in the midst of her alarm at possible consequences +she revelled in her adventure, such a one as she had never had before, +and probably never should again; and there was the car tinkling on its +early way. Mr. Hayward signed to it to stop, and waded in his slippers +through the wet dust, for it could not be called mud yet, to hand her +deferentially in.</p> + +<p>"You are sure you can get along now?" he asked, as the car came to a +stop.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed! Thank you so much; I am very sorry——"</p> + +<p>"No need of it, I assure you. I am sorry I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> cannot do more." He looked +at the big umbrella doubtfully, and so did she; but the idea of offering +it to her was too absurd, and they both laughed, which Marian feared was +improperly free and easy for her. Then, as she turned on the step to bow +her farewell, he added, "I beg your pardon; but you have forgotten to +leave me your address. I should be very glad to write in case +Catherine——"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street," stammered Marian, frightened +out of her little sense, and rattling off the first words that came into +her head, suggested in part by a baker's cart which passed at the +moment. She should never dare to give her real address! Anything better +than to have those dreadful boys know who she was! He looked puzzled, +then laughed; but it was of no use for him to say anything, for the car +had started, and swept her safely beyond his reach at once. She could +see him looking after it till it turned out of sight, and was thankful +he had not followed her, as he might perhaps have done if he had not had +on those old slippers.</p> + +<p>Marian did not go directly home, but stopped at Mrs. William Treadwell's +till the spring shower was over, that she might be able to tell her +family that she had been there, and thus avoid over-curious questioning +as to where she had been caught in it. She briefly informed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> them that +she could obtain no satisfactory account of Drusilla Elms—the people to +whom she referred seemed to have forgotten her—and wrote to the girl +that she had made other arrangements. She waited in fear for a few days, +lest something might happen to bring her little adventure to light; but +nothing did, and her fears subsided, with a few faint wishes as well. +What a pleasant world, she wistfully thought, was the world of men—a +world where conventionalities and duty calls gave way to a delicious, +free, Bohemian existence of boating and running about; where even +housekeeping was a thing lightly considered, and where dogs jumped on +sofas, and people threw their things around at pleasure—nay, even +smoked and swore, regardless of consequences temporal or eternal!</p> + +<p>About a fortnight after her wild escapade, the household of +Freeman-Robbins-Carter-Dale, to use the collective patronymic of the +female dynasty which reigned there, was agitated by the unusual +phenomenon of an evening visitor who called himself a man, though but in +his freshman year at Harvard University. It was the son of their +deceased cousin in New York, whose husband, though married again, +retained sufficient sense of kinship to insist that the boy should call +on his mother's relatives, which duty the unhappy youth had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> postponed +from week to week, and from month to month, until the awkwardness of +introducing himself was doubled. He had struggled through this ordeal, +and now sat, the centre of an admiring female circle who were trying to +hang upon his words. Winnie, whose presence might have given him some +support, had been sent to bed; but his sister was privileged to remain +up longer, and being a serious child, and wise beyond her years, she +fixed him with her solemn gaze, while one great-aunt remarked over and +over again on his resemblance to his grandfather, and the other as often +inquired who he was, though his name and pedigree were carefully +explained each time by the nurse. Mrs. Carter addressed him as "Freddy, +dear!" and Miss Caroline asked what he was studying at college, and his +cousin Isabel pressed sweet cake upon him. Only his cousin Marian sat +silent in the background. He thought her very pretty, and not at all +formidable, though so old—not that he had the least idea how old she +really was.</p> + +<p>"Did you bolt the front door, Marian, when you let Trippet out?" asked +her mother. Trippet was the family cat, who had shown symptoms of alarm +at the aspect of the unwonted guest.</p> + +<p>"I—I think so."</p> + +<p>"You had better go and look," said her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> sister. "It would be no joke if +Freddy's nice overcoat and hat were to be taken by a sneak-thief. They +are very troublesome just now in the suburbs," she continued; "but we +never leave anything of value in our front hall, and we always make it a +rule to bolt as well as lock the door as soon as it grows dusk. There is +no harm in taking every precaution."</p> + +<p>"Sneak-thieves and second-floor thieves have quite replaced the +old-fashioned midnight burglar," said Miss Caroline.</p> + +<p>"They are just as bad," said Mrs. Dale.</p> + +<p>"Women—ladies—are taking to it now," said Master Frederick. "I heard +the funniest story about one the other day." He paused, and grew red at +the drawing upon himself the fire of eight pairs of eyes, but plucked up +his courage and resumed the theme, not insensible to the possible +delight of terrifying those before whom he had quailed. "It was in Ned +Hayward's family, my classmate; he and his brother Bob—he's a +junior—live in South Boston with their uncle, Colonel Hayward—the +celebrated Colonel Hayward, you know, who was so distinguished in the +war, and—and everything; perhaps you know him?"</p> + +<p>"We have heard of him," said Mrs. Carter, graciously.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been out there sometimes with him, and it's no end of +jolly—I mean, it is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> pleasant place to visit in. The Colonel's an old +bachelor, and brings his nephews up, because, you know, their father's +dead." He stopped short again, overwhelmed with the sound of so long a +speech from himself.</p> + +<p>"But about the thief? Oh, do tell us," murmured the circle, +encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"Well," began Fred, seeing his retreat cut off, and gathering courage as +the idea struck him that the topic, if skilfully dwelt on, might last +out the call, "it happened this way. Bob was at home a few weeks ago to +spend Sunday, and took a lot of fellows—I mean a large party of his +classmates; and there were some boys there playing tennis with his +brothers—it was on a Saturday morning—and a woman came and asked for +the lady of the house; that's a common dodge of theirs, you know. Well, +of course, the Colonel went in to see her. The boys wanted to see the +fun, so they all took turns in looking through the keyhole; and Bob says +she was stunning—I mean very pretty—and looked like a lady, and +dressed up no end; but she seemed very confused and queer, and as if she +hardly knew what to say, and she pretended to have come to ask for the +character of a servant with the oddest name, I forget what; but most +likely she made it up, for none of them could remember it. Well, she +hung on ever so long, looking for a chance to hook<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> something, I +suppose, and at last, just as she was going, it began to rain, and she +seemed to expect him to lend her an umbrella. But he wasn't as green as +all that comes to; he said he would see her to the car himself; so off +he walked with her as polite as you please. Bob says it's no end of fun +to see his uncle with a lady; he doesn't see much of them, and when he +does he treats 'em like princesses. He took her to the car, and put her +in, and just as it started he asked her address, and she told him—" +here an irrepressible fit of laughter interrupted his tale—"she told +him that it was Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street. Did you ever hear +such stuff? Of course there's no such person, for the Colonel wasted +lots of time taking particular pains to find out. Bob says they're all +sure she was a thief, except his uncle, who was awfully smashed on her +pretty face, and he sticks to it she was only a little out of her head. +They poke no end of fun at him about it, but it really was no joke for +him, for he walked with her down to the car in his old slippers in the +wet, and caught cold in the leg where he was wounded; he's always lame +in it, and when he takes cold it brings on his rheumatic gout. He was +laid up a fortnight; he's always so funny when he's got the gout; he +can't bear to have any of the boys come near him, and flings boots at +their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> heads when they do, for of course they have to wait on him some, +and he swears so. Bob says he's sorry for him, for of course it hurts, +but he can't help laughing at the queer things he says. He always swears +some when he's well, but when he's sick it fairly takes your head off."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! dear me!" said Mrs. Carter; "swearing is a sad habit. I hope, +Freddy, dear, that you will not catch it. Colonel Hayward is a very +distinguished officer, and they have to, I suppose, on the battle-field; +but there is no war now, and it is not at all necessary."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he won't let the boys do it! He swears at them like thunder if they +do, but they don't mind it. He's awfully good-natured, and lets them +rough him as much as they please, and they've done it no end about the +pretty little housebreaker. Bob has made a song about her to the tune of +<i>Little Annie Rooney</i>—that's the one his uncle most particularly hates. +Phil had a shy at her with his kodak, but what with the rain and the +leaves, you can't see much of her."</p> + +<p>"It is a pity," said Miss Caroline; "it might be shown to the police, +who could very likely identify her. I dare say she has been at Sherborne +Prison, and there we photograph them all. If it were not that Mary +Murray is in for a two years' sentence, I should say it answered very +well to her description."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some more desultory conversation went on, while the hands of the clock +ran rapidly on toward eleven. The youthful Minna silently stole away at +a sign from her mother, without drawing attention upon herself. Ten +o'clock was the latest hour at which these ladies were in the habit of +being up; but how hint to a guest that he was staying too long? They +guessed that it might not seem late to him, and feared that he was +acquiring bad habits in college.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow knew perfectly well that he was making an unconscionably +long call; but how break through the circle? And then he was remembering +with affright into how much slang he had lapsed in the course of his +tale, and was racking his brains for some particularly proper farewell +speech which should efface the recollection of it. Suddenly his eyes +were caught by Marian's face. Her look of abject misery he could +attribute only to her extreme fatigue, and he made a desperate rally:</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, Miss Dale, I mean Mrs. Robbins, that I'm making a terribly +long call. I am very sorry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all! Not at all! Pray do not hurry! You must come often; we +shall be delighted to see you."</p> + +<p>"It seems a very long way," murmured Freddy, conscious that he was +saying something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> rude, but unable to help himself; and he finally +succeeded in escaping, under a fire of the most pressing invitations to +"call again," for, as Mrs. Carter said, "we must show some hospitality +to poor Ellen's boy. Marian, you look tired. I hope you did not let him +see it. Do go to bed directly. I must confess I feel a little sleepy +myself." But the troubles which Marian bore with her to the small room +which she shared with her little niece were of a kind for which bed +brought no solace, and she lay awake till almost dawn, only thankful +that Minna slumbered undisturbed by her side.</p> + +<p>To Marian every private who had fought in the war was an angel, and +every officer an archangel <i>ex officio</i>. That she should have been the +cause of an attack of rheumatic gout to a wounded hero filled her with +remorse, especially as this particular hero was the most delightful man +she had ever met. She wept bitterly from a variety of emotions—pity, +and shame, too—for what must he think of her? That last misery, at any +rate, she could not and would not endure, and before breakfast she had +written the following letter:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Burroughs Street, Jamaica Plain</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Colonel Hayward</span>,</p> + +<p>"I was very, very sorry to hear that you had taken cold and +been ill in consequence of that unfortunate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> call of mine on +Saturday, three weeks ago. I really came on the errand I +said I did; but I don't wonder you thought otherwise, after +I had behaved so foolishly. I did not know who you were, nor +where I had been, and I gave the wrong name because I was +frightened. But I cannot let you think so poorly of me, or +believe I had the least intention of giving you so much pain +and trouble. I can remember the war" [this was a mortifying +confession for Marian to make, but she felt that the proper +atonement for her fault demanded an unsparing sacrifice of +her own feelings], "and I know how much gratitude I, and +every other woman in our country, owe to you. Begging your +pardon most sincerely, I am,</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">"Yours very truly,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Marian R. Carter</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>May 5th, 1885</i>."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Marian found no time to copy this letter over again before she took it +with her on her morning round of errands, to slip into the first +post-box, and she would not keep it back for another mail, although she +feared by turns that it was improperly forward, and chillingly distant. +Posted it was, and she could not get it back. She did not know whether +she wanted him to answer it or not. It would be kind and civil in him to +do so, but she felt that she could hardly bear the curiosity of the +family, as his letter was passed from hand to hand before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> it was opened +to guess whom it could be from, or handed round again to be read. There +was no more privacy in the house than there was in an ant-hill.</p> + +<p>She had not long to speculate, for the very next afternoon, as the +family were all sitting in grandmamma's room downstairs, their common +rallying-ground, as it was the pleasantest one in the house, and the old +lady, who disliked being left alone, rarely went into the drawing-room +till evening, the parlour-maid brought in a card, which went the rounds +immediately:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">"<span class="smcap">Mr. Robert Hayward</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 25em;">"City Point, South Boston."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"What can he want?" said Mrs. Dale.</p> + +<p>"Very likely to see me on business," said Aunt Caroline.</p> + +<p>"It must be Colonel Hayward," said Isabel, remembering Frederick's tale.</p> + +<p>"It was Miss Marian he wanted to see," said Katy.</p> + +<p>"How very strange!" said Miss Caroline. But Mrs. Carter, dimly +remembering Marian's South Boston errand, till now forgotten, and +bewildered with the endeavour to weave any coherent theory out of her +scattered recollections, was silent; and Marian glided speechless out of +the room, and up the back stairs to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> own for one hasty peep at her +looking-glass, and then down the front stairs again.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Marian!" shouted Winnie from a front upper window, and she started +at his tone, grown loud and boyish in a moment; "the gentleman came on a +horse, and tied it to a post, and it is black, and it is stamping on the +sidewalk; just hear it!" But Marian, whose pet he was, passed him +without a word.</p> + +<p>She lingered so little that the Colonel had no more time to examine her +abode than she had had his, and here the subject was more complex. The +room was not very small, but it was very full, and everything in it, so +to speak, was smothered. The carpet was covered with large rugs, and +those again with small ones, and all the tables with covers, and those +with mats. Each window had four different sets of curtains, and every +sofa and chair was carefully dressed and draped. The very fireplace was +arrayed in brocaded skirts like a lady, precluding all possibility of +lighting a fire therein without causing a conflagration, and, indeed, +those carefully placed logs were daily dusted by the parlour-maid. Every +available inch of horizontal space was crowded with small objects, and +what could not be squeezed on that was hung on the walls. The use of +most of these was an enigma to the Colonel; he had an idea that they +might be designed for ornament,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> and some, as gift books and booklets +and Christmas cards, appealed to a literary taste; but he was a little +overwhelmed by them, especially as there were a number of little boxes +and bags and baskets about, trimmed and adorned in various fashions, +which might contain as many more. There were a great many really pretty +things there, if one could have taken them in; but they were utterly +swamped, owing to the fatal habit which prevailed in the family of all +giving each other presents on every Christmas and birthday.</p> + +<p>The Colonel felt terribly big and awkward among them. He sat down on a +little chair with gilded frame and embroidered back and seat. It cracked +beneath him, and he sprang hastily up and took another, from which he +could see out of a window, and into a trim little garden where plants +were bedded out in small beds neatly cut in shaved green turf. A few +flowers were allowed in the drawing-room, discreetly quarantined on a +china tray, though there were any number of empty vases, and from above +he could hear the cheerful warble of a distant canary-bird, which woke +no answering life in the stuffed corpses of his predecessors standing +about under glass shades.</p> + +<p>The room looked stuffy, but it was not; the air was very sweet and clean +and clear, and the Colonel felt uncomfortably that he was scenting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> it +with tobacco. There could be no dust beneath those rugs, no spot on the +glass behind those curtains. There was a feminine air of neatness, and +even of fussiness, that pleased him; everything was so carefully +preserved, so exquisitely cared for. It would be nice to have some one +to look after one's things like that; he knew that the rubbish at home +was always getting beyond him somehow.</p> + +<p>And now came blushing in his late visitor, even more daintily pretty +than he had thought her before.</p> + +<p>The Colonel made a long call, as all the family, anxious to see the +great man, dropped in one after the other; but the situation was not +unpleasing to him, and he even exerted himself to win their liking, +which was the easiest thing in the world. He told Mrs. Carter that he +had come on behalf of his quondam servant, Drusilla Elms, whose name, he +was sorry to say, his cook had forgotten; but now she remembered it, and +could give her the very highest character, and he should be sorry if +their carelessness had lost the poor girl so excellent a place. He +listened to the tale of the grandmother's rheumatism, and even made some +confidences in return about his own. He talked about the soldiers' +lending libraries with Aunt Caroline, and promised to write to a friend +of his in the regulars on the subject. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> his imposing presence the +great-aunt sat silently attentive. He had met Isabel's late husband, and +he took much notice of her children. He said Winnie was a fine little +lad, but would be better for a frolic with other boys. Could he not come +over and spend a Saturday afternoon with them at South Boston, and his +boys would take him on the water? Oh, yes; they were very careful, and +quite at home in a boat. Yes, he would go with them himself, if Mrs. +Dale would prefer it; and then the invitation was given and accepted—no +unmeaning, general one, but a positive promise for Saturday next, and +the one after if it rained. Of course, he should be charmed to have some +of the ladies come, too. Miss Carter would, perhaps, for she knew the +way. He did not take leave till his horse, to Winnie's ecstatic delight, +had pawed a large hole in the ground; and a chorus of praise arose +behind him from every tongue but Marian's.</p> + +<p>Colonel Hayward said nothing about his visit at home; but as he stood +after returning from his long ride, for which the boys had observed that +he had equipped himself with much more than ordinary care, smoking a +meditative cigar before the crackling little fire which the afternoon +east wind of a Boston May rendered so comfortable, he was roused by his +nephew Bob's voice:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Really, Uncle Rob, our bachelor housekeeping is getting into a hopeless +muddle!" Then, as his uncle said nothing: "I am afraid—I am really +afraid that one of us will have to marry."</p> + +<p>"Marry yourself, then, you young scamp, and be hanged to you; you have +my full consent if you can find a girl who will be fool enough to take +you."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I could not expect <i>you</i> to make the sacrifice; but though I +am willing—entirely for your sake, I assure you—I shall not render it +useless by asking some giddy and inexperienced girl. I shall seek some +mature female, able and willing to cope with them——"</p> + +<p>"Them?"</p> + +<p>"The spiders. I have long known that they spun webs of immense size in +and about our unfortunate dwelling; but I was not prepared to find that +they attached them to our very persons." As he spoke he drew into sight +a fabric hanging to the back of his uncle's coat. It was circular in +shape, about the size of a dinner-plate, white in colour, and +ingeniously woven out of thread in an open pattern with many +interstices, by one of which it had fastened itself to the button at the +back of the Colonel's coat as firmly as if it grew there.</p> + +<p>"What the ——!" I spare my readers the expletives which, with the +offending waif, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> Colonel hurled at his nephew as the young man and +his brothers exploded in laughter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I never was so surprised!" cried Mrs. Treadwell.</p> + +<p>"I did not think anything in the matrimonial line could surprise you!" +cried her husband.</p> + +<p>"Not often; but Colonel Hayward and Marian Carter! I could hardly +believe it. Mrs. Carter herself seems perfectly amazed, though of course +she's delighted. I suppose she had given up all idea of Marian's +marrying."</p> + +<p>"She is a sweet little thing," said Mr. Treadwell; "I wonder she has not +been married long ago."</p> + +<p>"I thought he was a confirmed old bachelor," said the lady; "I wonder +where he met her! I wonder whatever made him think of her! I hope +they'll be happy, but I don't know. Marian is a good girl, but she has +so little sense!"</p> + +<p>"I should think any man ought to be happy with Miss Carter," said the +gentleman, warmly; "I only hope he'll make her happy. Hayward's a very +good fellow, but he'll frighten that little creature to death the first +time he swears at her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Colonel Hayward is a <i>gentleman</i>, William; he would never swear before +a lady."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't trust him—when she's his wife."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nevertheless, Mrs. Robert Hayward has not yet been placed in danger of +such a catastrophe, not even when her husband has been laid up with +rheumatic gout. To be sure, her ministrations on those occasions were +more soothing than those of the boys. Perhaps she was even a little +disappointed in her craving for excitement, and her new household ran +almost too smoothly. The boys gave no trouble, though they were aghast +on first hearing that the Colonel really contemplated matrimony, and Bob +reproached himself in no measured terms for having drawn attention to +the "work of Arachne," and driven his uncle to rush madly upon fate. But +Marian made it her particular request that things should go on as +before, which pleased her bridegroom, though he had never dreamed of any +change; and when they came to know her, she pleased the boys as well.</p> + +<p>"It's easy enough to get on with Aunt Marian," Bob would say; "she's +such a dear little fool! She swallows everything men tell her, no matter +how outrageous, and thinks if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> we want the moon, we must have it. If +only Minna would turn out anything like her! But no; they are ruining +all the girls now with their colleges. I doubt if Aunt Marian isn't the +last of her day and generation."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="200" height="128" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="400" height="92" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="WHY_I_MARRIED_ELEANOR" id="WHY_I_MARRIED_ELEANOR"></a>WHY I MARRIED ELEANOR</h2> + +<p>It has often been remarked that if every man would truthfully tell how +he wooed and won his wife, the world would be the gainer by a number of +romances of real life which would put to shame the novelist's skill. +"How" is the word usually employed in such cases, and, indeed, properly +enough. There are a number of marriages where the reason is sufficiently +palpable, and where any stronger one fails there is the all-sufficing +one of propinquity. But none of these were allowed in the case of my +marriage with Eleanor. Why did I do it? was the absorbing nine days' +wonder; for, as was unanimously and justly observed, if it were a matter +of propinquity alone, why did I not marry——? But I anticipate.</p> + +<p>To begin at the beginning, then, and to tell my tale as truthfully as if +I were on oath; there was no reason why Eleanor, or any other girl, +should not have married me. I was by all odds the best match in New +England, being the only son and heir of Roger Greenway, third<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> of the +name. Whether my father could ever have made a fortune any more than I +could is doubtful; but he inherited a considerable estate, so well +invested that it only needed letting alone to grow, and for this he had +the good sense. Large as it was when I came into it, it was more than +doubled by my prospective wealth on the other side, for my mother was +the oldest of the four daughters of old Jonathan Carver, the last of the +Massachusetts vikings whose names were words of power in the China seas.</p> + +<p>My father was an elderly man when he married, and my mother was no +longer young. She and her sisters were handsome, high-bred women, with +every accomplishment and virtue under the sun. They did not, to use the +vulgar phrase, marry off fast. Indeed, the phrase and the very idea +would have shocked them. They were beings of far too much importance to +be so lightly dealt with. When, only a few years before her father's +death, Louisa married Roger Greenway, it was allowed by their whole +world to be a most fitting thing; and when I appeared in due season, the +old gentleman was so delighted that he made a will directly, tying up +his whole estate as tightly as possible for future great-grandchildren. +Some years after his death, my Aunt Clara, the second daughter, married +a Unitarian clergyman of good family,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> weak lungs, æsthetic tastes, and +small property, who never preached. He lived long enough to catalogue +all our family pictures and bric-à-brac, and arrange the "Carver +Collection" for the Art Museum, and then died of consumption soon after +my own father, leaving no children. By the time these events had passed +with all due observances, Aunt Frances and Aunt Grace thought it was +hardly worth while to marry; there had been a sufficient number of +weddings in the family, and they were very comfortable together—and +then how could they ever want for an object, with that fine boy of dear +Louisa's to bring up? We all had separate households; but my aunts were +always at "Greenways," my place on the borders of Brookline and West +Roxbury, which my father had bought when young and spent the greater +part of his life in bringing to a state of perfection; and my mother and +I were apt to pass the hottest summer months at Manchester-by-the-Sea, +where Aunt Clara, during her married life, had reared a little fairy +palace of her own; and to spend much of the winter at the great old +Carver house on Mount Vernon Street, which Jonathan Carver had left to +his unmarried daughters for life.</p> + +<p>I was the first object of four devoted and conscientious women. The +results were different from what might have been expected.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> The world +said I would be spoiled, and then marvelled that I was not; but my +mother's and aunts' conscientiousness outran their devotion, and they +all felt, though they would not acknowledge it to each other, that I had +rather disappointed them. I grew up a big, handsome young fellow enough, +very young-looking for my age, with a trick of blushing like a girl at +anything or nothing, which gave me much pain, though it won upon all the +old ladies, who said it showed the purity of my mind and the goodness of +my heart.</p> + +<p>By the way in which my moral qualities were always selected for praise, +it will be divined that but little could be said for my intellectual. +Had I been a few steps lower on the social ladder, something might have +been said against them. It was only by infinite pains on my own part and +that of the highly salaried tutor who coached me, that I was ever +squeezed through Harvard University. I did squeeze through, and with an +unblemished moral record; my Aunt Clara, the pious one of the family, +said it might have been worse, and my mother, to whom my commencement +day was a blessed release from four years of perpetual worry, said she +was highly gratified at the way in which dear Roger had withstood the +temptations of college life. For this I deserved no credit. The +temptations of which she thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> were none to me. Where would have been +the excitement of gambling, when I had nothing to lose? and one brought +up from infancy in an atmosphere of fastidious refinement the baser +female attractions repelled at once, before they had the chance of +charming. I hated tobacco, and liquor of all kinds made me deadly sick. +A more subtle snare was set for me.</p> + +<p>Time slipped away for the first few years after I left college. We all +went to Europe and returned. I pottered a little about my place, and +discharged social duties, and such few local political ones as a +position like mine entails even in America. I did not know why I did not +do more, or what more to do. I did not think I was stupid exactly; it +seemed to me that I could do something, if I only knew what. Perhaps I +was slow—I certainly was in thought; but sometimes I startled myself by +hasty action before I thought at all, which gave me a dim consciousness +of the presence of my "genius." My mother's expectations had just begun +to take an apologetic turn, when my Aunt Frances, the clever one of the +family, put forward a bright idea. She said that it was all very well +for a young man who had his own way to make in the world to wait awhile; +a man with my opportunities could never be in a satisfactory position to +employ them until he was married. While I remained single there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> must +always be speculations, expectations, and reports. Once let me be +married, and all these worries, troublesome and distracting at present, +would receive their proper quietus. The sisters all applauded her +penetration, and all said with one voice that if Roger were to marry, he +could not do better than—but I anticipate again.</p> + +<p>Greenways and the neighbouring estates were large, and the only very +near neighbours we had were the Days and the Beechers; in fact, they +were both my tenants. When my father bought the place there was an old +farm-house on it, which, though it stood rather near the spot where he +wished to build, was too well built and too picturesque to pull down. +Old Sanderson, our head gardener for many a year, lived there with his +wife, and their house, with its own pretty garden and little greenhouse, +was one of my favourite haunts when a child. When the old couple died, +nearly at the same time, Sanderson had long left off active work, and +his deputy and successor, Macfarlane, lived in another house some +distance off. My mother said of course she could never put him into the +Garden House with all those children; she could never put another +servant there at all; she hated to pull it down; she did not know what +to do with it. My Aunt Grace, the impulsive one of the family, broke in, +and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> the others followed suit with, "Why would it not be just the +thing for Katharine Day?"</p> + +<p>Katharine Day had been Katharine Latham, an old school friend of my Aunt +Grace. She was the daughter of a country clergyman, a pretty woman of +fascinating manners, and her relations were very well bred, though poor. +The friendship was an excellent thing for her; I don't mean to say that +it was not so for my aunt also, for I never knew a woman who could pay +back a social debt to a superior more gracefully than Mrs. Day. She was +always a little pitied as not having met with her deserts in marriage, +though Mr. Day was a handsome man, with good connections and a fine +tenor voice. He had some kind of an office with a very fair salary, but +his wife said, and it was a thing generally understood, that they were +very poor. They felt no shame, rather a sort of pride, in getting along +so well in spite of it. They went everywhere, and all her richer friends +admired Mrs. Day for being such a good manager, and dressing and +entertaining so beautifully on positively nothing, and showed their +admiration by deeds as well as words. One paid Phil's college expenses, +another took Katie abroad, and they were always having all kinds of +presents. They were invited everywhere in the height of the season, and +always had tickets for the most reserved of reserved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> seats. My mother, +or my guardian, for her, let them have the Garden House at a mere +nothing of a rent, but we said that it was really a gain for us, they +would take such beautiful care of it.</p> + +<p>Phil Day, though he was some years younger than I, was my classmate in +college, and graduated far ahead of me. My mother was consoled for his +superiority by thinking what a nice intimate friend he was for me. That +he was my intimate friend was settled for me by the universal verdict. +In reality I did not like him at all, but it would have been unkind to +be as offish as I must have been to keep him from being always at my +house, sailing my boats, riding my horses, playing at my billiard-table, +smoking my cigars, and drinking my wines, as naturally as if he had been +my brother, albeit I had a suspicion that these luxuries were not as +harmless to Phil as they were to me. He was a clever, handsome fellow, +and very popular. What I really disliked in him was his being such a +terrible snob, but this was an accusation that it seemed particularly +mean for me to make against him, even to my own mind.</p> + +<p>Phil's sister Katie was worth a dozen of him. She was a beautiful +creature, tall and lithe, with a rich colour coming and going under a +clear olive skin, and starry dark eyes that seemed to shoot out rays of +light for the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> length of her long lashes. She was highly +accomplished, and always exquisitely dressed. Mrs. Day said it did not +cost much, for dear Katie was so clever at making her own clothes. To be +sure, she could not make her boots and gloves, her fans and furs, and +these were of the choicest. Their price would have made a large hole in +her father's salary, but probably he was never called upon to pay +it—for I know my Aunt Grace, for one, thought nothing of giving her a +whole box of gloves at a time. Katie inherited all her mother's +fascination of manner and practical talent, and, like her, well knew how +to pay her way. She was a great pet of my mother and aunts. She poured +out tea, and sang after dinner, helped in their charity work, and chose +their presents. They had an idea that I could marry whom I pleased, but +I knew they felt I could not do better than marry Katie. It was their +opinion, and that of every one else, that she deserved a prize in the +matrimonial line. Providence evidently designed that she should get one, +for, as all her friends remarked, "If Katie Day could do so beautifully +with so little, what could she not do if she were rich?" Providence as +evidently had destined me for the lucky man, and even the other young +men bowed to manifest destiny in the united claims of property and +propinquity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Beechers lived a little farther off the other way. About them and +their dwelling there was no glamour of boyish memories. The bit of land +on which it stood had always cut awkwardly into ours, and my father had +longed to buy it; but it had some defect in the title which could not be +set right until the death of some old lady in the country. She died at +last just about the time that he did, and in the confusion caused by his +sudden death the land was snapped up by O'Neil, an Irishman, who turned +a penny when he could get a chance by levying blackmail upon a +neighbourhood—buying up bits of land, building tenement houses on them, +and crowding them with the poorest class of his country people, on the +chance of being bought off at last at an exorbitant rate by the +neighbouring proprietors.</p> + +<p>In this present case O'Neil had mistaken his man. My guardian and first +cousin once removed, John Greenway, was the last person alive to screw a +penny out of. He would have borne any such infliction himself with +Spartan firmness; judge with what calmness he endured it for a ward. He +built a high wall on O'Neil's boundary, planted trees thickly around +that, and then proceeded to harass the unhappy tenants by every means +within his power and the letter of the law, so that they ran away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> in +hordes without waiting for quarter-day. O'Neil failed at last, and my +guardian bought in the concern for a song. Before this, however, O'Neil, +in desperate straits, had made a few cheap alterations in the house, +advertised it as a "gentleman's residence," and let it to the Beechers, +who were only too glad to get so well-situated a house so low.</p> + +<p>Mr. Beecher was well educated and of a good family, though he had no +near relations who could do anything for him. He had married early a +young lady much in the same condition, and had done but poorly in life, +hampered in all his efforts by a delicate wife and a large family. When +we bought the place I had not attained my legal majority; but I was old +enough to have my wishes respected, and I said positively that I would +not have him turned out. As I used to meet the poor old fellow—not that +he was really old, though he looked to me a perfect Methuselah—with his +grey head and shining, well-brushed coat, trotting to the station, a +good mile and a half off, at seven in the morning, through winter's cold +and summer's heat; and back again after dark, for nine months in the +year, my heart used to ache for him. But I could not tell him so, and of +course there was precious little I could do for him. My mother and aunts +were eminently charitable, but what could they do for Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> Beecher? Her +hours and ways and thoughts were not as theirs. She did not come very +often when they invited her, nor seem to enjoy herself very much when +she did. There was but little use in taking her rare flowers and +hothouse grapes, and they could not send her food and clothes as if she +were a poor person. The Beecher house had a garden of its own, out of +which Mr. Beecher, with a little help from his boys, contrived to get +their fruit and vegetables, though it always looked in very poor order. +We were thankful that it was so well shut out from our view, and poor +Mrs. Beecher was equally thankful that her boisterous boys and crying +babies were so well shut in. My mother did not approve of her much, and +said she must lack method not to get on better. Jonathan Carver's +daughters had been so trained by their father that any one of them could +have stepped into his counting-house and balanced his books at a +minute's warning. They kept their own accounts, down to the last mill, +by double entry, and were fond of saying that if you only did this you +would always be able to manage well. They were most kind-hearted, when +they saw their way how to be, but they had been so harassed from +childhood up by begging letter-writers and agents for societies that +they had a horror of leading people to expect anything from them; and +as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> the Beechers evidently expected nothing, it was best that they +should be left in that blissful condition. They were indeed painfully +overwhelmed by their obligations in the matter of the house. I made the +rent as low as I decently could, and put in improvements whenever I had +the chance. I used to rack my brains to think what more I could do for +them; but in all my wildest dreams it never occurred to me that I might +give them a lift by marrying Eleanor.</p> + +<p>Eleanor was their oldest child, and a year or two younger than Katie +Day. She was really as plain as a girl has any right to be. She had the +light eyelashes and freckles which often mar the effect of the prettiest +red hair, and hers was not a pretty shade, but very common carrots. Her +features and her figure were not bad exactly, and her motions had +nothing awkward—one would never have noticed them in any way. It might +have been better for her had she been strikingly ugly. Anything striking +is enough for some clever girls to build upon; but whether Eleanor were +clever or stupid, no one knew or cared to know. She was a good girl, and +helped her mother, and looked after the younger children;—but then, she +had to. Her very goodness was a mere matter of course, and had nothing +for the imagination to dwell upon. She was not a bit more helpful to +her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> mother than Katie Day was to hers; and if Katie's path of duty led +to trimming hats and writing notes, and Eleanor's to darning the +children's stockings and washing their faces, why, that was no fault in +the one nor merit in the other.</p> + +<p>I felt very sorry for Eleanor, when I thought of her at all, which was +not often, but I could do even less for her than for her father. We used +to invite them when we gave anything general, but they did not always +come, and when we sent them tickets they often could not use them. They +had not many other invitations, and could seldom accept any, on account +of the cost of clothes and carriage hire. My mother, of course, could +not take them about much, for there were our own family and the Days, +whom she took everywhere, and who enjoyed going so much. I always asked +Eleanor to dance, but as she was dreadfully afraid of me, I fear it gave +her more pain than pleasure. She did not dance well, and I could not +expect my friends to follow my example. Phil Day, indeed, once declared +that he "drew the line at Eleanor Beecher." I remember longing to kick +him for the speech, and that was the liveliest emotion I ever felt in +connection with her.</p> + +<p>Why I did not marry Katie is plainer—to myself at least. I came very +near it, not once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> alone, but many times. I do not think that there was +any man who could have seen her day after day, as I did, and not have +fallen in love with her, unless there were some barrier in the way. Mine +was fragile as a reed, but it proved in the end to be strong enough. It +arose in the days when I was a green young hobble-de-hoy of nineteen, +dragging along in my freshman year, and she was a bright little gipsy +four years younger. At a juvenile tea-party at the Days' we were playing +games, and one—I don't know what it was, except that it demanded some +familiarity with historical characters and readiness in using one's +knowledge. The little wit I had was soon hopelessly knocked out of me, +while Katie, quick and alert, was equally ready at showing all she knew, +and shielded herself by repartee when she knew nothing. I made some +absurd blunder, perhaps more in my awkward way of putting things than in +what I really meant, between the two celebrated Cromwells, giving the +impression that I thought the great Oliver a Catholic. I might have made +some confused explanation, but was silenced by Katie's ringing laugh, a +peal of irresistible girlish gayety, such as worldly prudence is rarely +strong enough to check at fifteen. Perhaps she was excited and could not +help it, but I thought she laughed more than she need, and there was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +something scornful in the tone that jarred on me painfully. I could not +be so foolish as to resent it, but I could not forget it, and often when +she has looked most lovely, and the star of love has shone most +propitious, some sharper cadence than usual in her voice, or a hint at +harder lines under the soft curves of her face, or a contemptuous ring +in her musical laugh, has withered the words on my lips, and the hour +has passed with them unspoken. It was, I dimly felt, only a question of +time; the flood must some day rise high enough to sweep the frail +barrier away.</p> + +<p>Katie and Eleanor had but little in common on the surface, nor were +there ever any deeper sympathies of thought and feeling between them. +Still, they were girls, living near together, and with all the others +much farther off. It was impossible that there should not be some +intercourse of business or pleasure, though never intimate and always +irregular; and one pleasant September it came about that we spent a good +many hours together, playing lawn tennis on my court. There was another +young man hanging about; an admirer of Katie's, he might be called, +though he was not very forward to try his chances, thinking, as I +plainly saw, that they were not worth much. Herbert Riddell was not much +cleverer than I was, and, though not poor, had no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> wealth to give him +importance. He was a thoroughly good fellow, and felt no jealousy of me, +and it was pleasant for him to loiter away the golden autumn days with +beauty on the tennis court, even if both were another's property. We +were well enough matched, for, though Herbert and Katie were very fair +players, while Eleanor was a perfect stick, yet I played so much better +than the others that I generally pulled her through. She really tried +her best, but somehow the more she tried the more blunders she made, +perhaps from nervousness, and one afternoon they were especially +remarkable. We were hurrying to finish our match, as it was getting late +and nearly time for "high tea" at the Days', to which we were all asked, +though Eleanor, as usual, had declined, and Katie, as usual, had not +pressed her. It was nothing to either Herbert or me, for we both found +Mrs. Day a much more lively <i>pis aller</i> in conversation than Eleanor. +Katie was serving, and sent one of her finest, swiftest balls at +Eleanor, who struck at it with all her force, and did really hit it, but +unfortunately and mysteriously sent it straight up into the air. We all +watched it breathlessly, as it came down—down—and fell on our side of +the net. Katie, warm and excited, laughed loud and long. I thought that +there was a little affection of superiority in her mirth, just like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +there was in the high, clear, scornful music that woke the echoes of +long ago, and I in turn lost my self-possession, and returned my next +ball with such nervous strength that it flew far beyond the lawn and +over the clumps of laurels into the wood beyond. We had lost the set.</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Greenway," cried Katie, "you must have tried to do that; or +have you been taking private lessons of Eleanor?" She stopped, her fine +ear perhaps detecting something strained and hard in her own voice. I +see her still as she looked then, poised like Mercury on one slender +foot, one arm thrown back and holding her racket behind her head, +framing it in, the little dimples quivering round her mouth, ready to +melt into smiles at a word, while from under her dark eyelashes she shot +out a long, bright look, half saucy defiance, half pleading for pardon. +It was enough to madden any man who saw her, and it struck home to +Riddell. Poor fellow! it was never aimed at him, and it fell short of +its mark:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">"My heart's cold ashes vainly would she stir,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">The light was quenched she looked so lovely in."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Eleanor, meanwhile, was bidding her usual good-by, nothing in her manner +showing that she was at all offended. She need not be,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> for of course +Katie could not seriously intend any slight to her, any more than to a +stray tennis ball to which she might give a random hit. But I could not +let a lady go home alone from my own ground in just this way, and I had +a sort of fellow-feeling with her, which I wanted to show.</p> + +<p>"I will see Miss Beecher home, and then come back," I said, and hastened +after her, although I had seen, by the prompt manner in which she had +walked off, that she did not intend, and very likely did not wish, I +should. I was glad to leave the ground and get away from them. I kept +saying to myself that after all Katie was not much to blame; girls would +be thoughtless, and Katie was so pretty and so petted that she might +well be a little spoiled; and then I asked myself what right I had to +set myself up as a judge of her conduct? None at all; only I wished that +women, who can so easily and lightly touch on the raw places of others, +would use their power to heal and not to wound. I could picture to +myself some girl with an eagerness to share the overflowing gifts of +fortune with others, a respectful tenderness for those who had but +little, a yearning sweetness of sympathy that should disarm even envy, +and give the very inequalities of life their fitness and significance. +We men have rougher ways to hurt or heal; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> though I tried +desperately hard, I could not hit on anything pleasant or consolatory to +say to Eleanor.</p> + +<p>She had got pretty well ahead of me, and was out of sight already. Her +way home was by a long roundabout walk through our place, and then by a +short one along the public road. When I turned into the winding, shady +path which led through the thick barrier of trees hiding the Beecher +wall, she was loitering slowly along before me; and though she quickened +her pace when she heard me behind her, as a hint that I need not follow, +I soon caught up with her, and then I was sorry I had tried to, for I +saw that she was crying most undisguisedly and unbecomingly.</p> + +<p>"Miss Beecher—Eleanor," I stammered out, "you mustn't mind it—she +didn't mean it—it was too bad—I was a little provoked myself—but +don't feel so about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not that," said Eleanor, stopping short, and steadying her +trembling voice, so that it seemed as if she were practised in stifling +her emotions. The very tears stopped rolling down her cheeks. +"It's—it's everything. You don't know what it is," she went on more +rapidly; "you never can know—how should you—but if you were I, to see +another girl ahead of you in everything—to have nothing, not one single +thing, that you could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> feel any satisfaction in—and no matter how hard +you tried, to have her do everything better without taking any trouble, +and to know that if you worked night and day for people, you could not +please them as well as she can without a moment's care or thought, just +by being what she is—you would not like it. And the worst of it all is +that I know I am mean and selfish and hateful to feel so about it, for +it's not one bit Katie's fault."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come!" I said; "don't look at it so seriously. You exaggerate +matters."</p> + +<p>"I should not mind it," said Eleanor, gravely, "if I did not feel so +badly about it. Now, I know that's nonsense. I mean that if I could only +keep from having wrong feelings about it myself, it would not matter +much if she were ever so superior in every way."</p> + +<p>"Are you not a little bit morbid? If you were really as selfish as you +think, you would not be so much concerned about it. It seems to me that +we all have our own peculiar place in this world, and that if we fill it +properly, we must have our own peculiar advantages; no one else can do +just what we can, any more than we could do what they could; we must +just try to do well what we have to do."</p> + +<p>"It is very well for you to talk in that way," said Eleanor, simply.</p> + +<p>"I?"—a little bitterly. "I am a very idle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> fellow, who has made but +little effort to better himself or others. But we won't talk of efforts, +for I am sure your conscience must acquit you there. I suppose you were +thinking more of natural gifts—of pleasing, which is after all only +another way of helping. One pleases one, and one another, and it is as +well, perhaps, to be loved by a few as liked by a great many. Don't +doubt, my dear Miss Beecher, that any man who truly loves you will find +you more charming even than Katie Day."</p> + +<p>What there was in this harmless and well-meant speech to excite +Eleanor's anger I could not imagine; but girls are queer creatures. She +grew, if possible, redder than before, and her eyes fairly flashed. "No +one—" she began, and stopped, unable to speak a word. I went on, as +much for a sort of curious satisfaction I had in hearing my own words, +as for any consolation they might be to her. "Beautiful as she is, she +only pleases my eye; she does not touch my heart. I am not one particle +in love with her, and sometimes I scarcely even like her."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Eleanor; "you must not say such things—I did very wrong +to speak to you as I did. You mean to be kind, but you don't know how +every word you say humiliates me. Surely, you can't think me so mean as +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> let it please me, and yet, perhaps, you know me better than I do +myself. There is a wretched little bit of a feeling that I would not own +if I could help it, that—that—" She was trembling like a leaf now, and +so pale that I thought she was going to faint away. I did not know +whether to feel more sorry for her or angry with myself for having made +things worse instead of better by my awkwardness. There was only one way +to get out of the scrape. I threw my arm around her shaking form, took +her cold hand in mine, and said with what was genuine feeling at the +time, "Dearest Eleanor!" Of course there was no going back after that.</p> + +<p>Eleanor, equally of course, made her escape at once from my arm, but I +still held her hand as I went on. "Do—do believe me. I love you and no +one else." She seemed too much astonished to say anything. "Could you +not love me a little?"</p> + +<p>She looked at me still surprised and incredulous. "You can't mean +it—you don't know what you are saying."</p> + +<p>I remember feeling well satisfied with myself, for doing the thing so +exactly according to the models in all dramas of polite society; but +Eleanor, it must be owned, was terribly astray in her part. I went on +with increasing energy. "Plainly, Eleanor, will you be my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> wife? Will +you let me show what it is to be loved?"</p> + +<p>Poor Eleanor twisted her damp little handkerchief round and round in her +restless fingers without speaking for a moment, and then said in a +frightened whisper, "I—I don't know."</p> + +<p>I tried to take her hand again, but she drew it away, and said shyly, +"Indeed I don't know. I never dreamed of any one's loving me, much less +you. I don't know how I ought to feel."</p> + +<p>"Have you never thought how you would feel if you loved anyone?" I +asked, her childish simplicity making me smile, and I felt as if I were +talking to a little girl; but, to my surprise, she blushed deeply, and +then answered firmly, as if bound to be truthful, "Yes! I have felt—all +girls have their dreams"; here a something in her tone made her seem to +have grown a woman in a moment; "I thought I should never find any real +person to make my romance about, and so for a long time I have loved Sir +Philip Sidney."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Because he would have been too much of a gentleman to mind how plain +and insignificant I was; it isn't likely he would have loved me—but I +should not have minded his knowing that I loved him."</p> + +<p>"And do you think that there are no gentlemen now?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>As I looked at her, the surprise and interest roused by her words making +me forget for a moment the position in which we stood, I saw a sudden +eager look rise in her eyes, then fade away as quickly as it came; but +it showed that if no one could call Eleanor beautiful, it might be +possible to forget that she was plain. She walked along slowly under the +broad fir boughs, and I by her side, both silent. She was frightened at +having said so much. But as we drew near the gate which opened to the +public road, I said, "Will you not give me my answer, Eleanor?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot," she murmured, "it is so sudden. Can you not give me a little +time to think about it?"</p> + +<p>"Till this evening?"</p> + +<p>"No—no. I have no time before then. Come to-morrow morning—after +church begins, and I will be at home—that is," she added +apologetically, "if it is just as convenient to you."</p> + +<p>Poor child! she did not know what it was to use her power, in caprice or +earnest, over a lover. Every word she said was like a fresh appeal to +me. I told her it should be as she wished, and but little else passed +till we reached her father's door, which closed between us, to our +common relief.</p> + +<p>Instead of appearing at the Days' tea-table,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> which indeed I forgot, I +walked straight to the darkest and remotest nook in the fir-wood, flung +myself flat on the ground, and tried to face my utterly amazing +position, and to realise what I had been about. It was evident that I +had irrevocably pledged myself to marry Eleanor Beecher, but still I +could hardly believe it. It seemed too absurd that I, who had been proof +against the direct attacks of so many pretty girls, and the more +delicate allurements of the prettiest one I knew, should have been such +a fool as to blurt out a proposal because a plain one had shed a few +tears, which, to do her justice, were shed utterly without the design of +producing any effect on me.</p> + +<p>In this there lay a ray of hope. Eleanor, I had fully recognised, was +transparently sincere; if she did not love me, I was sure she would tell +me so frankly; and, after all, should I not be a conceited fool to think +that every girl I saw must fall in love with me? If she refused me, as +she very likely would, I should be very glad to have given her the +chance; it would give her a little self-esteem, of which she seemed more +destitute than a girl ought to be, and it would not diminish mine. I +felt more interest in her than I could have thought possible two hours +ago, but I did not love her, and did not want to marry her. I did not +feel that we were at all suited to each other, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> hoped that she +would have the good sense to see it too; and yet, would she—would she?</p> + +<p>Next day at a quarter past eleven I ascended the Beecher doorsteps in +all the elegance of array that befitted the occasion, and, I hope, no +unbecoming bearing. I had had a sleepless night of it, but had reasoned +the matter out with myself, and decided that if I had done a foolish +thing, I must take the consequences like a man, and see that they ended +with me. Eleanor herself opened the door and showed me into the stiff +little drawing-room, which had to be stiff or it would have been +hopelessly shabby at once. The family were at church, and it was the +only time in the week that she could have had any chance to see me +alone. She had made, it was plain, a great effort to look well, and was +looking very well for her. She had put on a fresh, though old, white +frock, had stuck a white rose in her belt, and done up her hair in a way +I had never seen it in before. She looked very nervous and frightened, +but not unbecomingly so, I allowed, though with rather a sinking of the +heart at the way these straws drifted. We got through the few polite +nothings that people exchange on all occasions, from christenings to +funerals, and then I said:</p> + +<p>"Dear Eleanor, I hope you have thought over what I said to you +yesterday, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> you know how you really feel, and can—that you can +love me enough to let you make me—to let me try to make you—I mean—" +I was blundering terribly now, and getting very red. Yesterday's fluency +had quite deserted me. But Eleanor was thinking too much of what she had +to say herself to heed it.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she began, "I am afraid—I know I am not worthy of you. It was all +so sudden and so unexpected yesterday. But I know now that I do not love +you as much as I ought—as you deserve to be loved by the woman you +love. I ought to say that I will not marry you—but—" she looked up +beseechingly—"I can't—I can't."</p> + +<p>She paused, then went on in a trembling voice, "You don't know how hard +a time my father and mother have had. There has hardly a single pleasant +thing ever happened to them. Ever since I was a little girl I have +longed and longed to do something for them—something that would really +make them happy—and I never could. I never dreamed I should have such a +chance as this! and then all the others! I have thought so what I should +like to give them, and I never had the smallest thing; and then +myself—I don't want to make myself out more unselfish than I am—but +you don't know how little pleasure I have had in my life. I never +thought of such a chance as this—all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> good things in life offered +me at once—and I cannot—cannot let them go by."</p> + +<p>She stopped, breathless, only for a moment, but it was a bitter one for +me. I had one of those agonising sudden glimpses such as come but +seldom, of the irony of fate, when the whole tragedy of our lives lies +bare and exposed before us in all its ugliness. So then even she, for +whom I was giving up so much, could not love me, and I was going to be +married for my money after all! Then with another electric shock of +instant quick perception, it came across me that I was getting perhaps a +better, certainly a rarer, thing than love. Many women had flattered my +vanity with hints of that; but here was the only one I had ever met whom +I was sure was telling me the absolute, unflattering truth. The sting of +wounded pride grew milder as Eleanor, unconsciously swaying toward me in +her earnestness, went on:</p> + +<p>"Will you—can you love me, and take my friendship, my gratitude and +admiration—more than I can tell you—and wait for me to love you as +well as you ought to be loved? I know I shall—how can I help it?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As things in our family were always done with the strictest attention to +etiquette, I informed my mother, as was due to her, during our usual +stroll on the terrace, after our early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> Sunday dinner, that I was paying +my addresses to Eleanor Beecher, and intended to apply for her father's +consent that afternoon. It was a great and not a pleasant surprise for +her. My mother was celebrated for never saying anything she would be +sorry for afterwards—an admirable trait, but one which frequently +interfered with her conversational powers; and unfortunately, on this +occasion, to say nothing was almost as bad as anything she could have +said. It was rather hard for both of us, but after it was over, she +could go to her room and have a good cry by herself, while I was obliged +to set off for an interview with my intended father-in-law, whom I found +in his little garden, in shirt-sleeves and old slippers, cutting the +ripest bunches from his grape-vines. It was the blessed hour sacred to +dawdle—the only one the poor old fellow had from one week's end to the +other. He was evidently not accustomed to have it broken in upon by +young men visitors in faultless calling trim, and starting, dropped his +shears, which I picked up and handed to him; dropped them again, +shuffled about in his old slippers, and muttered something of an +apology. Evidently I must plunge at once into the subject, but I was +getting practised in this, and began boldly: "Mr. Beecher, may I have +your consent to pay my addresses to your daughter Eleanor?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Eleanor at home? Oh, yes, she's in. Perhaps you'll kindly excuse me?" +and he looked helplessly toward the house door.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you quite understand me. I spoke to Eleanor last night +about my wishes—hopes—my love for her, and she promised to give me an +answer this morning. She has consented to become my wife—of course, +with your approval."</p> + +<p>"Lord bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Beecher, throwing back his head, and +looking full at me over the top of his spectacles; "who would ever have +thought it? I mean—you seem so young, such a boy."</p> + +<p>"I am twenty-six, and Eleanor, I believe, is twenty."</p> + +<p>"True, true; yes, she was twenty last June—but—but—why, of course, +she must decide for herself—that is, if you are sure you love her."</p> + +<p>I felt myself growing red; but Mr. Beecher seemed to interpret this as a +sign of my ardent devotion, and anger at its being doubted, for he went +on: "Yes, yes! I beg your pardon. I never heard anything about you but +in your favour. Of course, I have nothing to say but that I am very +happy. Of course," more quickly, "it's a great honour; that is, of +course you know my daughter has no fortune to match with yours."</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly indifferent to that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course—of course—well, it must rest with Eleanor. She is a good +girl, and I can trust her choice. Will you not go in and see my—Mrs. +Beecher?" he added with relief, as if struck with a bright idea; and I +left him slashing off green bunches and doing awful havoc among his +grape-vines. He did not appear so overwhelmed with delight at the +prospect of an alliance with me as Eleanor had seemed to expect. Mrs. +Beecher, on her part, took the tidings in rather a melancholy way; she +wept, and said Eleanor was a dear good child, and she hoped we would +make each other happy, but there was more despondency than joy in her +manner; either she was accustomed to look at every new event in that +light, or, as I suspected, this piece of good fortune was rather too +overwhelming. I thought many times in the next two months of the man who +received the gift of an elephant. I played the part of elephant in the +Beecher <i>ménage</i>, and was sometimes terribly oppressed by my own +magnificence. Perhaps an engagement may be a pleasant period of one's +life under some circumstances; decidedly mine was not. I insisted on its +being as short as possible, thinking that the sooner it was over the +better for all parties. Mr. and Mrs. Beecher might have had some comfort +in getting Eleanor ready to be married to some nice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> young man with a +rising salary and a cottage at Roxbury; but to get her ready to be +married to me was a task which I was afraid would be the death of both +of them. Poor Eleanor herself was worn to a shadow with it all, and I +remember looking forward with some satisfaction to bringing her up again +after we were married.</p> + +<p>My mother, of course, could not interfere with their arrangements, even +to offer help. She asked no questions, found no fault, but was +throughout unapproachably courteous and overpoweringly civil. Once, and +once only, did she speak out her mind to me. The evening after the +wedding-day was fixed, she tapped late at my door, and when I opened it, +she walked in in her white wrapper, candlestick in hand—for the whole +house was long darkened—her long, thick, still bright brown locks +hanging below her waist, and a look of determination on her +features—looking like a Lady Macbeth, who had had the advantages of a +good early education.</p> + +<p>"Roger!" she began, and paused.</p> + +<p>"Well."</p> + +<p>"Roger," as I placed a chair for her, and she sat down as if she were at +the dentist's, "there is one thing I must say to you. I hope you will +not mind. I must be satisfied on one point, and then I will never +trouble you again about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Anything, dearest, that I can please you in."</p> + +<p>"Roger, did you ever—did you never care for Katie Day?"</p> + +<p>"I always liked her."</p> + +<p>"I mean, Roger, did you ever want to marry her? And, oh, Roger! I hope, +I do hope that if you did not, you have never let her have any reason to +think you did."</p> + +<p>"Never! I have never given her any reason to think I cared for her more +than as a very good friend."</p> + +<p>"I felt sure you would never wilfully deceive any girl," said my mother, +with a sigh of relief; "but I am anxious about you yourself. Did you and +Katie ever have any quarrel—any misunderstanding? I have heard of +people marrying some one else from pique after such things. Do forgive +me, Roger, dear; but I should be so glad to know." My poor mother +paused, more disconcerted than she usually allowed herself to be, and +her beautiful eyes brimming over with tears.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about me, dearest mother," I said, kissing her tenderly; +for my heart was touched by her anxiety. "I can tell you truly that I +have never really wanted to marry Katie, though once or twice I have +thought of it. I have always admired her, as every one must. She is a +lovely girl; and seeing so much of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> as I have, it might have come to +something in time, if it had not been for Eleanor."</p> + +<p>"If it had not been for Eleanor!" My mother was too well-bred to repeat +my words, but I saw them run through her mind like a lightning flash. +She looked for a moment as if she thought I was mad, then in another +moment she remembered that she had heard love to be not only mad but +blind. Her own Cupid had been a particularly wide-awake deity, with all +his wits about him; but she bowed to the experience of mankind. From +that hour to this she has never breathed a word which could convey any +idea that Eleanor was anything but her own choice and pride as a +daughter-in-law.</p> + +<p>The Beechers got up a very properly commonplace wedding, after all, +though nothing to what my wedding ought to have been. Eleanor herself, +like many prettier brides, was little but a peg to hang a wreath and +veil on. Her younger sisters did very well as bridesmaids. The only will +I showed in the matter was in refusing to ask Phil Day to act as best +man, though I knew it was expected of me. I asked Herbert Riddell; and +the good fellow performed his part admirably, and made the thing go off +with some life. I verily believe he was the happiest person there. They +only had a very small breakfast for the nearest relations,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> my mother +remarking that we could have something larger afterwards; but the church +was crammed. The thing I remember best of that day, now fifteen years +ago, was the expression on Mrs. Day's and Katie's faces. It was not +pique—they were too well-bred for that—nor disappointment—they were +too proud for that, even had they felt it. And I don't believe that +there was any deep disappointment, at least on Katie's part. I had made +no undue advances; and she was far too sensible and sunny-tempered a +lassie to let herself do more than indulge in a few day-dreams, or to +wear the willow for any man, even if he were a good match, and had +pleased her fancy. She married, as every one knows, Herbert Riddell, and +made him a very good wife. But neither mother nor daughter could quite +keep out of their faces, wreathed in smiles as befitted the occasion, +the look of uncomprehending, unmitigated amazement, too overpowering to +dissemble. I suppose it was reflected on many others, and I remembering +overhearing Aunt Frances severely reproving Aunt Grace for so far +forgetting herself as to utter the vulgar remark that she "would give +ten thousand dollars to know what Roger was marrying that little fright +for."</p> + +<p>The Roger Greenway and Eleanor Beecher of ten years ago are so far past +now that I can talk of them like other people. That Roger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> Greenway +ranked so low in his class at college is only remembered to be cited as +a comfort to the mothers of stupid sons—Roger Greenway, now the coming +man in Massachusetts. Have I not made a yacht voyage round Southern +California, and is not my book on the deep-sea dredgings off the coasts +considered an important contribution to the Darwinian theory, having +drawn, in his later days, a kind and appreciative letter from the great +naturalist? Do I not bid fair to revolutionise American agriculture by +my success in domesticating the bison on my stock-farm in Maine? Have I +not come forward in politics, made brilliant speeches through the State, +and am I not now sitting in Congress for my second term? The world would +be incredulous if I told them that all this was due to Eleanor. She did +not, indeed, know exactly what deep-sea dredging was; but she said I +ought to do something with my yacht, and had better make a voyage, and +write a book about it. She is as afraid, not only of a bison, but of a +cow, as a well-principled woman ought to be; but she said I ought to do +something with my stock-farm, and had better try some experiments. She +is no advocate of women's going into politics; but she said I was a good +speaker, and ought to attend the primary meetings. And when I said the +difficulty was to think of anything to say, she said if that were all, +she could think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> of twenty things. So she did; and when I had once +begun, I could think of them myself. I have had no military training; +but if Eleanor were to say that she was sure I could take a fort, I +verily believe I could and should.</p> + +<p>Not less is Eleanor Beecher of the old days lost in Mrs. Roger Greenway. +As she grew older she grew stouter, which was very becoming to her, as +she had always been of a good height, though no one ever gave her credit +for it. Her complexion cleared up; her hair was better dressed, and +looked a different shade; and she developed an original taste in dress. +She developed a peculiar manner, too, very charming and quite her own. +She showed an organising faculty; and after getting her household under +perfect control, and starting her nursery on the most systematic basis, +she grew into planning and carrying out new charities. The name of Mrs. +Roger Greenway at the head of a charity committee wins public confidence +at once, and, seen among the "remonstrants" against woman's suffrage, +has more than once brought over half the doubtful votes in the General +Court. Every one says that I am unusually fortunate in having such a +wife for a public man, and my mother cannot sufficiently show her +delight in the wisdom of dear Roger's choice.</p> + +<p>Eleanor would never let me do what she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> called "pauperise" her family; +but I found Mr. Beecher a good place on a railroad, over which I had +some control, which he filled admirably, and built a new house to let to +him. I helped the boys through college, letting them pay me back, and +gave them employment in the lines they chose. The girls, under +pleasanter auspices, turned out prettier than their eldest sister, and +enjoyed society; and one is well married, and another engaged.</p> + +<p>Katie Day, as I said before, married Herbert Riddell. She was an +excellent wife, and made his means go twice as far as any one else could +have done. She and Eleanor are called intimate friends with as much +reason as Phil and I had been. I don't believe they ever have two words +to say to each other when alone together, but then they very seldom are. +Eleanor is always lending Katie the carriage, and sending her fruit and +flowers when she gives one of her exquisite little dinners; and Katie +looks pretty, and sings and talks at our parties, and so it goes on to +mutual satisfaction.</p> + +<p>We all have our youthful dreams, though to few of us is it given to find +them realities. Perhaps we might more often do so, did we know the +vision when we met it in mortal form. I had had my ideal, a shadowy one +indeed—and never, certainly, did I imagine that I was chasing after it +when I followed Eleanor down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> the fir-tree walk. "An eagerness to share +the overflowing gifts of fortune with others—a respectful tenderness +for those who had but little—a yearning sweetness of sympathy that +should disarm even envy, and give the very inequalities of life their +fitness and significance." Had I ever clothed my fancies in words like +these? I hardly knew; but as I watched my wife in the early days of our +married life, shyly and slowly learning to use her new powers, as the +butterfly, fresh from the chrysalis, stretches its cramped wings to the +sun and air, they took life and shape before me—and I felt the charm of +the "ever womanly" that has ever since drawn me on, as it must draw the +race.</p> + +<p>Did Eleanor's love for me spring from gratitude for, or pleasure in, the +wealth that was lavished on her with a liberal hand? Who shall say? A +girl's love, if love it be, is often won by gifts of but a little higher +sort. But if it be worthy of the name, it finds its earthly close in +loving for love's sake alone; and then it matters not how it came, for +it can never go, and the pulse of its life will be giving, not taking. +To Eleanor herself, sure of my heart because so sure of her own, it +would matter but little to-day if I had loved her first from pity. That +I did not is my own happiness, not hers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_009.jpg" width="400" height="90" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="THE_STORY_OF_A_WALL-FLOWER" id="THE_STORY_OF_A_WALL-FLOWER"></a>THE STORY OF A WALL-FLOWER</h2> + +<p>It would never have occurred to anyone on seeing Margaret Parke for the +first time, that she was born to be a wall-flower,—plainness, or at +best insignificance of person, being demanded by the popular mind as an +attribute necessary to acting in that capacity, whereas Margaret was +five feet eight inches in height, with a straight swaying figure like a +young birch tree, a head well set back upon her shoulders—as if the +better to carry her masses of fair hair—an oval face, a straight nose, +blue eyes so deeply set, and so shaded by long dark eyelashes, that they +would have looked dark too, but for the sparkles of coloured light that +came from them, an apple-blossom skin, and thirty-two sound teeth behind +her ripe red lips. With all these disqualifications for the part, it was +a wonder that she should ever have thought of playing it; and to do her +justice, she never did,—but some have "greatness thrust upon them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret's father, too, was a man of some consequence, having a +reputation great in degree, though limited in extent. He was hardly +known out of medical circles, but within them everyone had heard of Dr. +Parke of Royalston. His great work on "Tissues," which afterwards +established his fame on a secure basis, lay tucked away in manuscript, +with all its illustrations, for want of funds to publish it; but even +then there were rooms in every hospital in Europe into which a king +could hardly have gained admittance, where Dr. Parke might have walked +in at his pleasure. So brilliant had been "Sandy" Parke's career at +college, and in the Medical School, that his classmates had believed him +capable of anything; and when he married Margaret's mother, a beauty in +a quiet way, both young people, though neither had any money, were +thought to have done excellently well for themselves. Alas! they were +too young. Dr. Parke's marriage spoiled his chances of going abroad to +complete his medical education. When he launched on his profession, it +was found that many men were his superiors in the art of getting a +lucrative practice in a large city; and, at last, he was glad to settle +down in a country town, where he had a forty-mile circuit, moderate +gains, and still more moderate expenses. His passion was study, which he +pursued unremittingly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> though time was brief and subjects were scanty.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parke was a devoted wife and mother, who thought her husband the +greatest of men, and pitied the world for not recognising the fact. She +managed his affairs wisely, and they lived very comfortably and cheaply +in the pleasant semi-rural town. Could the children have remained babies +forever, Mrs. Parke's wishes would never have strayed beyond the limits +of her house and garden; but as they grew older, and so fast! ambition +began to stir in her heart. It was the great trial of her life that with +all her economy, they could not find it prudent to send the two oldest +boys to Harvard, but must content themselves with Williams College. She +bore it well; but when Margaret bloomed into loveliness that struck the +eyes of others than her partial parents, she felt here she must make an +effort. Margaret should go down to Boston to see and be seen in her own +old set, or what remained of it. Mrs. Parke was an orphan, with no very +near relations, but her connections were excellent, and her own first +cousin, Mrs. Robert Manton, might have been a most valuable one had +things been a little different. Unfortunately, Mrs. Manton, being early +left a widow, with a neat little property and no children, and having to +find some occupation for herself, had chosen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> the profession of an +invalid, which she pursued with exclusive devotion. She had long ceased +to follow the active side of it—that of endeavouring to do anything to +regain her health; having exhausted the resources of every physician of +reputation in the New England and Middle States, among them Dr. Parke, +who, like the others, did not understand her case, and indeed had never +been able to see that she had any. She had now passed into the passive +stage, trying only to avoid anything that might do her harm. She never +went to Royalston, as there was far too much noise in the house there to +suit her, but she felt kindly towards her cousin's family, and when she +was able would send them pretty presents at Christmas. More often she +would simply order a box of confectionery to be sent them, which they +ate up as fast as possible, Dr. Parke being inclined to growl when he +saw it about.</p> + +<p>Cousin Susan had rather dropped out of society, though the little she +did keep up was of a very select order; and Mrs. Parke knew better than +to expect her to take any trouble to introduce Margaret into it. The +bare idea of having a young girl on her hands to take about would have +sent her out of her senses. But she lived in her own very good house on +West Cedar Street, and though she had let most of it to a physician, +reserving rooms for herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> and her maid, surely there was some little +nook into which she could squeeze Margaret, if the girl, who had a +pretty talent for drawing, could be sent to Boston to take a quarter at +the Art School. Mrs. Manton assented, because refusing and excusing were +too much trouble. Mrs. Parke had also written to an old school friend, +now Mrs. David Underwood; a widow, too, but still better endowed, who +had kept up with the world, and went out and entertained freely; the +more, because her son, Ralph Underwood, a rising young stockbroker, was +a distinguished member of the younger Boston society. Mrs. Underwood had +visited the Parkes in her early widowhood, when Ralph was a little boy +and Margaret a baby, and had been most hospitably entertained. Of course +she would be only too glad to do all she could to show her friend's +pretty daughter the world, and show her to it.</p> + +<p>Now, if Mrs. Parke had sent Margaret down to Boston a year sooner or a +year later, things would doubtless have taken quite another turn, and +this history could never have been written. But the year before she was +still feeding her family on stews and boiled rice, to lay up the money +for Margaret's expenses, and working early and late to get up an outfit +for her; which objects she achieved by the autumn of 188-. What baleful +conjunction of planets was then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> occurring to make Mrs. Underwood +mutter, as she read the letter, that she wished Mary Pickering had +chosen any other time to fasten her girl upon them, while Ralph growled +across the breakfast-table under his breath, "At any rate, don't ask her +to stay with us," must be left for the future to disclose. Mrs. +Underwood eagerly promised anything and everything her son chose to ask, +and as he sauntered out of the house leaving his breakfast untouched, +and she watched anxiously after him from the window, the important +letter dropped unheeded from her hand, and out of her mind.</p> + +<p>Margaret came down in due season, bright and expectant. Cousin Susan was +rather taken aback at the girl's beauty, partly frightened at the +responsibilities it involved, partly relieved by the thought that it +would make Mrs. Underwood the more willing to assume them all. Margaret +went to the Art School, and got on very well with her drawing. She was +much admired by the other girls, who were never weary of sketching her. +They were nice girls, though they did not move in the sphere of society +in which they seemed to take it for granted that Margaret must achieve a +distinguished success; and even though she was modest in her +disclaimers, she could not help feeling that she might have what they +called "a good time" under Mrs. Underwood's auspices.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Underwood for more than a week gave no sign of life; then made a +very short, very formal call, apologising for her tardiness by reason of +her numerous engagements, and proffering no further civilities; and when +Margaret, in a day or two, returned the call, she found Mrs. Underwood +"very much engaged." But in another day or two there came a note from +her, asking Margaret to a small and early dance at her house, and a card +for a set of Germans at Papanti's Hall, of which she was one of the lady +patronesses, and which Cousin Susan knew to be the set of the season. In +her note she rather curtly stated that she had settled the matter of +Margaret's subscription to the latter affairs, and that she would call +and take her to the first, which was to come off three days after her +own dance. Margaret was pleased, but a little frightened; there was +something not very encouraging in the manner of Mrs. Underwood's note; +though perhaps it was silly to mind that when the matter was so +satisfactory,—only she did hate to go to her first dance alone. She +longed even for Cousin Susan's chaperonage, though she knew her longings +were vain; Mrs. Manton never went out in the evening under any +circumstances, and told Margaret that there was no need of a chaperon at +so small an affair at the house of an intimate friend, and that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +should have that especially desirable cab and cabman that she honoured +with her own custom, whenever she could make up her mind to leave the +house. It would, of course, be charged on her bill; after which piece of +munificence she washed her hands of the whole affair.</p> + +<p>Margaret set out alone. It was a formidable ordeal for her to get +herself into the house and up the staircase, and glad was she when she +was safely landed in the dressing-room, though there was not a soul +there whom she knew. Her dress was a pink silk that had been a part of +her mother's trousseau; a good gown, though not at all the shade people +were wearing now; but Mrs. Parke had made it over very carefully, and +veiled it with white muslin. It had looked very nice to Margaret till it +came in contact with the other girls' dresses. She hoped they would not +look at it depreciatingly; and they did not,—they never looked at it at +all, or at her either. She stood in the midst of the gayly greeting +groups, less noticed than if she were a piece of furniture, on which at +least a wrap or two might have been thrown. She found it easy enough, +however, to get downstairs and into the reception-room in the stream, +and up to Mrs. Underwood, who looked worried and anxious, said she was +glad to see her, and it was a very cold evening; and then, as the +waiting crowd pushed Margaret on, she could hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> the hostess tell the +next comer that she was glad to see him, and that it was a very warm +evening. Margaret was softly but irresistibly urged on toward the door +of the larger room where the dancing was to be; but that she had not the +courage to enter alone, and coming across a single chair just at the +entrance, she sat down in it and sat on for two hours without stirring. +The men were bustling about to ask the girls who had already the most +engagements; the girls were some of them looking out for possible +partners, some on the watch for the men by whom they most wished to be +asked to dance; but no one asked Margaret. The music struck up, and +still she sat on unheeded.</p> + +<p>The loneliness of one in a crowd has often been dwelt upon, as greater +than that of the wanderer in the desert; but all pictures of isolation +are feeble compared to that of a solitary girl in a ballroom. Margaret's +seat was in such a conspicuous position that it seemed as if all the +couples who crushed past her in and out of the ballroom must take in the +whole fact of her being neglected. There were a few older ladies in the +room, but these sat together in another part of it, and talked among +themselves without paying any heed to her.</p> + +<p>At first she hardly took in the situation in all its significance; but +as dance after dance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> began and ended, she began to feel puzzled and +frightened. Did the Underwoods mean to be rude to her, or was this the +way people in society always behaved, and ought she to have known it all +along? Ought she to feel more indignant with them, or ashamed of +herself? If she could only know what the proper sentiment for the +occasion might be, it would be some relief to feel miserable in the +proper way. Miserable her condition must be, since she was the only girl +in it.</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Underwood brought up her son and introduced him. He was a +tall, dark, well-grown young fellow, who might have been handsome but +for a look of gloomy sulkiness which made his face repulsive. He +muttered something indistinguishable and held out his arm, and Margaret, +understanding it as an invitation to dance, mechanically rose, and +allowed herself to be conducted to the ballroom. She made one or two +remarks to which he never replied, and after pushing her once or twice +round the room in as perfunctory a manner as if he were moving a table, +watching the door over her head, meanwhile, with an attention which made +him perpetually lose the step, he suddenly dropped her a little way from +her former seat, on which she was glad to take refuge. She thought she +must have made a worse figure on the floor than sitting down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> and then +a terrible fear rushed over her like a cold chill. Was there something +very much amiss with her appearance? Had anything very shocking happened +to her gown? She looked at it furtively; but just then the bustle of a +late arrival diverted her thoughts a little, as a short, plump, +black-eyed girl came laughing in, followed by a quiet, middle-aged lady, +and a rather bashful-looking young man. Margaret thought her only rather +pretty, not knowing that she was Miss Kitty Chester, the beauty of +Boston for the past two seasons; however, she did observe that she had +the most gorgeous gown, the biggest nosegay, and the highest spirits in +the room. She hastened up to Mrs. Underwood, with an effusive greeting, +which that lady seemed trying, not quite successfully, to return in +kind. Half of the girls in the room, and most of the men, gathered round +her in a moment; and a confused rattle of lively small talk arose, of +which Margaret could make out nothing. She noticed, however, that the +other girls, many of them momentarily deserted, appeared to regard the +sensation with something of a disparaging air, and she heard one of them +say, that it was a little too bad, even for Kitty Chester. What "it" +might be remained a mystery, but there was no doubt that it contributed +amazingly to the success of Mrs. Underwood's dance, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> went on, +Margaret thought, with redoubled zest, for all but herself; nor, indeed, +did Ralph Underwood appear enlivened, for she caught a glimpse of him +across the room, sulkier than ever. To her surprise, as he looked her +way, a sort of satisfaction, it could not be called pleasure, suddenly +dawned on his face. Surely she could never be the cause! And then for +the first time she perceived that someone was standing behind her; and, +as one is apt to do in such a consciousness, she turned sharply and +suddenly around, the confusion which came too late to check her movement +coloring her face. It was a relief to find that it was a very +insignificant person on whom her glance fell, a small, plain man of +indefinite age, who looked, as the girls phrase it, "common." He was +dressed like the other men, but his clothes had not the set of theirs, +and he had the air, if not of actual ill-health, of being in poor +condition. In that one glance her eyes met his, which sent back a look, +not of recognition, but of response. There was nothing which she could +notice as an assumption of familiarity, but if anyone else had seen it +they might have thought that she had been speaking to him. Of course, +she could do nothing but turn as quickly back; but she was conscious +that he still kept his place, and somehow it seemed a kind of protection +to have him there. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> stood near, but not obtrusively so; a little to +one side, in just such a position that she could have spoken to him +without moving, and they might have been thought to be looking on +together, too much at their ease to talk. When people paired off for +supper and nobody came for her, he waited till everyone else had left +the room, so that he might have been thought her escort. He then +disappeared; but in a moment Margaret was amazed by the entrance of a +magnificent colored waiter, who offered her a choice of refreshments +with the finest manners of his race. His subordinates rushed upon each +other's heels with all the delicacies she wished, and more that she had +never heard of, and their chief came again to see that she was properly +served. Not a young woman at the ball had so good a supper as Margaret; +but that is the portion of the entertainment for which young women care +the least.</p> + +<p>Just before the crowd surged back from the supper-room, her protector, +as she could not help calling him to herself, had slipped back into his +old place, so naturally that he might have been there all the time +during the supper, whose remains the waiters were now carrying off with +as much deference as they had brought it. Margaret wondered how a person +who looked, somehow, so out of his sphere, could act as if he were so +perfectly in it. Very few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> people seemed to know him, and though when +one or two of the men spoke to him it was with an air of being well +acquainted, he seemed rather to discourage their advances, and Margaret +was glad, for she dreaded his being drawn away from her neighbourhood. +While she was puzzling over the question as to whether he were a poor +relation, or Ralph's old tutor, the wished-for, yet dreaded hour of her +release sounded,—dreaded, for how to say her good-by and get out of the +room. But somehow the unknown was close behind her, and one or two of a +party who were going at the same time were speaking to him, so she might +have been of, as well as in, the group. Mrs. Underwood looked worried +and tired and had hardly a word for her, but seemed to have something to +say to her companion of a confidential nature, by which, however, he +would not allow himself to be detained, but excused himself in a few +murmured words, which seemed to satisfy his hostess, and passed on, +still close behind Margaret, to the door, where they came full against +Ralph Underwood, who barely returned Margaret's bow, but exclaimed: +"What, Al, going? Oh, come now, don't go."</p> + +<p>"Al" said something in a low voice, as inexpressive as the rest of him, +of which Margaret could only distinguish the words "coming back," and +followed her on, waiting till she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> came down the stairs and out of the +house. He did not offer to put her into the carriage, but somehow it was +done without any exertion on her part, and as she drove off, she saw him +on the steps looking after her.</p> + +<p>Margaret had a fine spirit of her own, and could have borne the downfall +of her illusions and hopes as well as ninety-nine young women out of a +hundred. She could even, when her distresses were well over, have +laughed at them herself, and turned over the leaf in hopes of a better. +But what was she to write home about it? how satisfy her father, mother, +and Winnie, eager for news of her? how bear their disappointment? There +lay the sting. "If it were not for them," she thought, "I should not +mind so very much." She was strictly truthful both by nature and +education, and though she did feel that if ever a few white lies were +justifiable, they would be here, she dismissed the notion as foolish, as +well as wicked, and lay awake most of the night, trying to +diplomatically word a letter which should keep to the facts and still +give a cheerful impression. "Mrs. Underwood's dance was very pretty," +she said, and she described the decorations and dresses. She had "rather +a quiet time" herself, not knowing many people, and did not dance more +than "once or twice." Here was a long pause, until she decided that +"once or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> twice" might literally stand for one as well as more. She did +not see much of Mrs. Underwood or Ralph, as they were busy receiving, +but "some of the men were very kind." Here again conscience pricked her; +but to say one man would sound so pointed and particular—it would draw +attention and perhaps inquiry which she could but ill sustain; and then +luckily the devotion of the black waiters darted into her mind, and she +went off peacefully to sleep, her difficulties conquered for the +present, and a feeling of gratitude toward the unknown warm at her +heart. Of course "a man like that" could only have acted out of pure +good-nature, and couldn't have expected that she should dream of its +being anything else. She wished she could have thanked him for it.</p> + +<p>The lesser trial of having to tell Cousin Susan about it was fortunately +averted. Mrs. Manton never left her room the next day, and when Margaret +saw her late the day after, the party was an old story, and Margaret +could say carelessly that it had been rather slow, and her host not +particularly attentive, without exciting too much comment. Cousin Susan +said it was a pity, but that it would be better at the next, as she +would know a few people to start with. Margaret did not feel so sure of +that, and wished she could stay away; but she had no excuse to give +without telling more of the truth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> than she could bring herself to do; +and then, she reasoned, things might be different next time. Mrs. +Underwood might have more time or inclination to attend to her, when she +was not occupied with her other guests; and there were other matrons, +some of whom might be good-natured,—perhaps some of the men might +notice her at a second view, and ask her to dance; at any rate, she +thought, it could not well be worse than the first. She wished she had +another gown to wear than that pink silk, which might be unlucky, but +the white muslin prepared as an alternative was by no means smart +enough. So she put on the gown of Monday, trying to improve it in +various little ways, and waited with something that might be called +heroism.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Underwood called at the appointed hour. She bade Margaret good +evening, and asked if she minded taking a front seat, as she was going +to take up Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; and that, and Margaret's +acquiescence, was about all that passed between them till the carriage +stopped, and a faded-looking, though youngish woman, plain, but with an +air of some distinction got in, and acknowledged her introduction to +Margaret with a few muttered indistinguishable words.</p> + +<p>"Dear Katharine, I am so glad!" said Mrs. Underwood; "I thought you +would certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> have some girl to take, and I should have to go alone."</p> + +<p>"I'm not quite such a fool, thank you," said Mrs. Freeman, in a quick +little incisive voice that somehow brought her words out; "I told them +I'd be a patroness, if I need have no trouble, and no responsibilities; +but you needn't expect to see me with a girl on my hands."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but any girl with you would be sure to take."</p> + +<p>"You can never tell—unless a girl happens to hit, or her people are +willing to entertain handsomely, you can't do much for her. A girl may +be pretty enough, and nice enough, and have good connections, too, and +she may fall perfectly flat. I had such a horrid time last winter with +Nina Turner; I couldn't well refuse them. Well, thank Heaven, she's +going <i>in</i> this winter;—going to set up a camera and take to +photography."</p> + +<p>"I wish more of them would go in," said Mrs. Underwood with a groan. +"Here has Bella Manning accepted, if you will believe it. I should think +she had had enough of sitting out the German. Well—I shan't trouble +myself about her this winter. She ought to go in and be done with it."</p> + +<p>"The mistake was in her ever coming out," said Mrs. Freeman, with a +laugh at her own wit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is a mistake a good many of them have made this year. Did you ever +see a plainer set of debutantes?"</p> + +<p>"Never, really; it seems to have given Mabel Tufts courage to hold on +another year. I hear she's coming."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Underwood scornfully. "It's too absurd. Why, her own +nephews are out in society! They go about asking the other fellows, +'Have you met my aunt?' Ned Winship has made a song with those words for +a chorus, and the boys all sing it. And yet, Mabel is very pretty +still—I wonder no one has married her."</p> + +<p>"Mabel Tufts was never the sort of girl men care to marry."</p> + +<p>Margaret wondered in her own mind at the sort of girl Mr. Thorndike +Freeman had cared to marry. She tried to keep her courage up, but it +grew weaker as she followed the other ladies upstairs and took off her +wraps and pulled on her gloves as fast as she could, while Mrs. +Underwood stood impatiently waiting, and Mrs. Freeman looked Margaret +over beginning with her feet and working upward.</p> + +<p>"Have you a partner engaged, Miss Parke?" asked Mrs. Underwood suddenly.</p> + +<p>"No"—faltered Margaret, unable to add anything to the bare fact.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am afraid you won't get one then, there are so many more girls than +men."</p> + +<p>The "so many more" turned out, in fact, to be two or three, but Margaret +had no hope. She felt that whoever got a partner, it would not be she. +The dancers paired off, the seats were drawn, the music began, and she +found herself sitting by Mrs. Underwood on the back row of raised +benches, with a quarter view of that lady's face, as she chatted with +Mrs. Thorndike Freeman on the other side. There were only two other +girls, as far as Margaret could make out, among the chaperons. Some of +the latter were young enough, no doubt, but their dress and careless +easy manner marked the difference. A pretty, thin, very +fashionable-looking elderly young lady sat near Margaret;—perhaps the +luckless Mabel Tufts; but she seemed to know plenty of people, and was +perpetually being taken out for turns. She laughed and talked freely, as +if defying her position, and Margaret wished she could carry it off so +well, little guessing how fiercely the other was envying her for the +simplicity that might not know how bad her plight was, and the youth +that had still such boundless possibilities in store. Another small, +pale girl in a dark silk sat far back, and perhaps had only come to look +on,—too barefaced a pretence for Margaret in her terribly obtrusive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +pink gown. She could not even summon resolution to refuse young +Underwood when he asked her for a turn, though she wished she had after +he had deposited her in her chair again and stalked off with the air of +one who has done his duty.</p> + +<p>The griefs of a young woman who has no partner for the German, though +perhaps not so lasting as those of one who lacks bread and shelter, are +worse while they do last, for there may be no shame in lacking bread, +and one can, and generally does, take to begging before starving. As the +giraffe is popularly supposed to suffer exceptionally from sore throat, +owing to the length of that portion of his frame, so did Margaret, as +she sat through one figure, and then through another, feel her torture +through every nerve of her five feet, eight inches. What would she not +have given to be smaller, perhaps even plainer,—somehow less +conspicuous. Man after man strolled past her, and lounged in front of +her, chatting and laughing with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; but it was not +possible they could help seeing her, however they might ignore her.</p> + +<p>"<i>Le jour sera dur, mais il se passera.</i>"</p> + +<p>Margaret could have looked forward to all this being over at last, and +to night and darkness, and bed for relief; but—here rose again the +spectre—what could she write home about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> it? She could not devise +another evasive letter; she must tell the whole truth, and had better +have done so at first—for of course she should never, never come to one +of these things again. The hands of the great clock crept slowly on; +would they never hurry to midnight before the big ball in her throat +swelled to choking, and her quivering, burning, throbbing pulses drove +her to do something, she could not tell what, to get away and out of it +all?</p> + +<p>The second figure was over, and she looked across the great hall, +wondering if she could not truthfully plead a headache, and go to the +cloak-room. But how was she to get there? and what could she do there +alone? She would have died on the spot rather than make any appeal to +Mrs. Underwood. No, she must go through with it; and then as she looked +again, a great, sudden sense of relief came over her, for she saw in the +doorway the slouching figure of her friend of Monday. He did not look at +her, and she doubted if he saw her; but it was something to have him in +the room. In a moment more, however, she saw him speak to Ralph +Underwood; and then the latter came up to her and asked if he might +present a friend of his, and at her acquiescence, moved away and came up +again with "Miss Parke, let me introduce Mr. Smith."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to say I don't dance," Mr. Smith began, "but I hear +that there are more ladies than men to-night; so perhaps if you have not +a partner already, you won't mind doing me the favour of sitting it out +with me."</p> + +<p>Margaret hardly knew what he meant, but she would have accepted, had he +asked her to dance a <i>pas de deux</i> with him in the middle of the hall. +She took his arm and they walked far down to a place at the very end of +the line of chairs; but it did not matter; it was in the crowd.</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith did not say much at first; he hung her opera cloak over the +back of her chair carefully, so that she could draw it up if she needed +it, and somehow the way he did so made her feel quite at home with him, +and as if she had known him for a long time; even though she perceived, +now that she had the opportunity to look more closely at him, that he +was by no means so old as she had at first taken him to be. His hair was +thin, and there were one or two deeply-marked lines on his face, but +there was something about his figure and motions that gave an impression +of youthfulness. Without knowing his age, you would have said that he +looked old for it. He was rather undersized than small, having none of +the trim compactness that we associate with the latter word, and his +face had the dull, thick, sodden skin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> that indicates unhealthy +influences in childhood.</p> + +<p>"That was a pleasant party at Mrs. Underwood's the other evening," he +began at last.</p> + +<p>"Was it?" said Margaret, "I never was at a party before—I mean a party +like that."</p> + +<p>"And I have been to very few; parties are not much in my line, and when +I do go I am generally satisfied with looking on; but I like that very +well, sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Margaret ingenuously, "if I had gone only to look on, I +should have thought it pleasant too; but I did not suppose one went to a +party for that."</p> + +<p>"You do not know many people in Boston?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I live in the country—at Royalston. I don't know anyone here +but Mrs. Underwood; but I thought—mamma said, that she would probably +introduce me to some of her friends; but she didn't—not to one. Don't +people do so now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it depends on circumstances. I certainly think she might have; +but then she has so much to think about, you know."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was foolish to expect anything different, but I had read +about parties, and I thought—I was very silly—but I thought I didn't +look so very badly. I thought I should dance a little—that everybody +did. Perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> my gown doesn't look right. Mamma made it, and took a +great deal of pains with it. Of course, it isn't so new or nice as the +others here, but I can't see that it looks so very different; do you?"</p> + +<p>"It looks very nice to me," said Mr. Smith, smiling. He had a pleasant, +rather melancholy smile, which gave his face the sole physical +attraction it possessed, and would have given it more, if he had had +better teeth. "It looks very nice to me, and as you are my partner, I am +the one you should wish most to please."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you! it was so kind in you to ask me. I can tell them when I +write home that I had a partner at any rate; and you can tell me who +some of the others are."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not many," said Mr. Smith, "I go out but very little. I +only went to the Underwoods because Ralph is an old friend of mine, and +I came here because—" He checked himself suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, since he is your friend, but I must say that I do think him +very disagreeable. I did not know a man could be so unpleasant. I had +rather he had not danced with me at all than to do it in that terribly +dreary way, as if he were doing it because he had to."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't be hard on poor Ralph. He's a very good fellow, really, but +he's almost beside himself just now. The very day of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> their dance, Kitty +Chester's engagement came out. She had been keeping him hanging on for +more than a year, and at one time he really thought she was going to +have him; and not only that, but she and Frank Thomas actually came to +his party, and they are here to-night. Ralph acts as if he had lost his +senses, and his mother is almost wild about him. Why, after their dance, +I was up all the rest of the night with him. He can't make any fight +about it, and I think it would be better if he were to go away; but he +won't—he just hangs about wherever she is to be seen. We all do all we +can to get him to pluck up some spirit, but it's no go—yet."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry for him," said Margaret, with all a girl's interest in +a love story; and she cast an awe-struck glance toward the spot where +Miss Chester was keeping half a dozen young men in conversation; "but he +need not make everyone else so uncomfortable on account of it—need he?"</p> + +<p>"He needn't make himself so uncomfortable, you might say, for a girl who +could treat him in that way; but it doesn't do to tell a man that. It +doesn't seem to me that I should give up everything in the way he is +doing; but then I was never in his place; of course, things are +different for Ralph and me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sure, you are different. I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> believe you would ever have +behaved so ill to one girl in your own mother's house, because another +hadn't treated you well."</p> + +<p>"I have had such a different experience of life; that was what I meant. +It made me sympathise with you when you felt a little strange; though of +course, it was only a mere accident that things happened so with you. +Now, I was never brought up in society, and always feel a little out of +place in it."</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about society either; we live very quietly at home, +and when we do go out, why it is at home, you know, and that makes it +different."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you live in a pretty place when you are at home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Royalston is lovely!" said Margaret, eagerly; "there are beautiful +walks and drives all round it, and the streets have wide grass borders, +and great elms arching over them, and every house has a garden, and our +garden is one of the prettiest there. The place was an old one when +father bought it, and the flower-beds have great thick box edges and +they are so full of flowers; and there is a long walk up to the front +door, between lilac bushes as big as trees, some purple and some white; +and inside it is so pleasant, with rooms built on here and there, all in +and out, and stairs up and down between them. Of course we are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> not rich +at all, and things are very plain, but mamma has so much taste; and then +there are all the old doors and windows, and the big fireplaces with +carved mantel-pieces, and so much old panelling and queer little +cupboards in the rooms—mamma says it is the kind of house that +furnishes itself."</p> + +<p>"I see—it is a good thing to have such a home to care about. Now I was +born in the ugliest village you can conceive of in the southern part of +Illinois; dust all summer, and mud all winter, and in one of the ugliest +houses in it; and yet, do you know, I am fond of the place; it was home. +We were very poor then—poorer than you can possibly conceive of—and I +was very sickly when I was a boy, and had to stay in most of the time. I +was fond of reading, though I hadn't many books, but I never saw any +society—what you would call society. When I was old enough to go to +college, father had got along a little, and sent me to Harvard. I liked +it there, and some of the fellows were very kind to me, especially Ralph +Underwood, though you might not think it. I tried to learn what I could +of their ways and customs, but it was rather late for me, and I never +cared to go out much; and then—there were other reasons." A faint flush +rose on his sallow face and he paused. Margaret fancied he alluded to +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> poverty, and felt sorry for him. She hoped he was getting on in the +world, though he did not look very well fitted for it. By this time they +were on a footing of easy comradeship, such as two people of the same +sex and on the same plane of thought sometimes fall into at their first +meeting. It is not often that a young man and a girl of such different +antecedents slide so easily into it; but as Margaret said to herself, +this was a peculiar case. He had told his little story with an apparent +effort to be strictly truthful and put things in their proper position +at the outset. There could be no intentions on his part, or foolish +consciousness or any reason for it on hers, and she asked him with +undisguised interest:</p> + +<p>"Where do you live now,—in Illinois?"</p> + +<p>"Not that part of it. Father and mother live in Chicago when they are at +home. I am in Cambridge, just now, myself; it is a convenient place for +my work"; and then as her eyes still looked inquiry, he went on, "I am +writing a book."</p> + +<p>"Oh! and what is it about?"</p> + +<p>"The Albigenses—it is a historical monograph upon the Albigenses."</p> + +<p>"That must be a very interesting subject."</p> + +<p>"It is interesting. It would be too long a story to tell you how I came +to think of writing it, but I do enjoy it very much indeed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> It's the +great pleasure of my life. It isn't that I have any ambition, you know," +he said in a disclaiming manner. "It's not the kind of book that will +sell well, or be very generally read, for I know I haven't the power to +make it as readable as it ought to be; but I hope it may be useful to +other writers. I am making it as complete as I can. I have been out +twice to Europe to look up authorities, and spent a long time in the +south of France studying localities."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you? how delightful it must be! Father writes too," with a +little pride in her tone, "but it's all on medical subjects; we don't +understand them, and he doesn't care to have us. He hates women to +dabble in medicine, and he says amateur physicians, anyhow, are no +better than quacks."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith made no answer, and they sat silent, till Margaret, fancying +that perhaps he did not like the conversation turned from his book, +asked another question on the subject. She was a well-taught girl, fond +of books, and accustomed to hear them talked over at home, and made an +intelligent auditor. The evening flew by rapidly for both of them, +though their tête-à-tête was seldom disturbed. The man who sat on +Margaret's other side, after staring at her for a long time, asked to be +introduced to her, and took her out once; but it was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> very +satisfactory, for he had nothing to talk of but the season, and other +parties of which she knew nothing. However, the figure brought a group +of the ladies together for a moment in the middle of the hall; and a +smiling girl who had been pretty before her face had taken on the tint +of a beetroot, made some pleasant remark to Margaret on the excessive +heat of the room, but was off and away before the answer. Margaret +thought the room comfortably cool—but then she had been sitting still, +while the other had hardly touched her chair since she came. Almost at +the end of the evening too, it dawned upon good-natured, short-sighted, +absent-minded Mrs. Willy Lowe, always put into every list of patronesses +to keep the peace among them, that the pretty girl in pink did not seem +to be dancing much; and she seized and dragged across the room, much as +if by the hair of the head, the only man she could lay hold of—a shy, +awkward undergraduate, of whose little wits she quickly deprived him, by +introducing him as Warner, his real name being Warren. She addressed +Margaret as Miss Parker; but she meant well, and Margaret was grateful, +though they interrupted Mr. Smith in his account of the Roman +Amphitheatre at Arles, and the "Lilies of Arles." But it was well that +she should have something to put into her letter home besides Mr. +Smith—it would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> never do to have it entirely taken up with him. By the +by, what was his other name? Mr. Smith sounded so unmeaning. She had +heard Ralph Underwood call his friend "Al," which it would not do for +her to use. It might be either Alfred or Albert, and with that proneness +to imagine we have heard what we wish, it really seemed to her as if she +had heard that his name was Albert; she would venture on it, and if she +were mistaken it would be very easy to correct it afterwards; and she +wrote him down as "Mr. Albert Smith." His story she considered as told +in confidence and nobody's affair but his own.</p> + +<p>Cousin Susan had never heard the name, but thought of course he must be +one of the right Smiths, or he wouldn't have been there; there were +plenty of them, and this one, it seemed, had lived much abroad. She +would ask Mrs. Underwood when they next met; but this did not happen +soon, and Cousin Susan never took any pains to expedite events—she was +not able. The world did not make allowance for this habit of hers, but +went on its determined course, and the very next day but one, as +Margaret was lightly skimming with her quick country walk across the +Public Garden on her way to the Art School, Mr. Smith, overtaking her +with some difficulty, asked if he might not carry her portfolio? he was +going that way. She did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> know how she could, nor why she should, +refuse and they walked happily on together. People turned to look after +them rather curiously, and Margaret thought it must be because she was +so much taller than Mr. Smith and wondered if he minded it. She should +be very sorry if he did—she was sure she did not if he did not; and she +longed to tell him so, but of course that would never do; and then the +little worry faded from her mind, her companion had so much to say that +was pleasant to hear.</p> + +<p>After that he joined her on her way more and more frequently. She did +not think it could be improper. The Public Garden was free to everybody, +and after all he didn't come every day, and somehow the meetings always +had an accidental air, which seemed to put them out of her control. He +could hardly call on her in the little sitting-room, where Cousin Susan +was almost always lying on her sofa by the fire in a wrapper, secure +from the intrusion of any man but the reigning physician. Sometimes Mrs. +Swain, below, asked Margaret to sit with her, but the Swain sitting-room +was full of their own affairs, the children and servants running in and +out by day, and Dr. Swain, when at home, resting there in the evening. +Margaret felt herself in the way in both places, and preferred her own +chilly little bedroom. A man calling would be a sad infliction,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> and +have a most tiresome time of it himself. The winter was a warm and +bright one, and it was far pleasanter to stroll along the walks when it +was too early for the school.</p> + +<p>Their acquaintance during this time progressed rapidly in some respects, +more slowly in others. They knew each others' opinions and views on a +vast variety of subjects. On many of these they were in accordance, and +when they differed, Mr. Smith usually brought her round to his point of +view in a way which she enjoyed more than if she had seen it at first. +Sometimes she brought him round to hers, and then she was proud and +pleased indeed. He told her all about his book, what he had done on it, +what he did day by day, and what he projected. On her side, Margaret +told him a world about her own family,—their names, ages, characters, +and occupations,—but on this head he was by no means so communicative. +She supposed the subject might be a painful one, after she had found out +that he was the only survivor of a large family. He spoke of his +parents, when he did speak, respectfully and affectionately, casually +mentioning that his father had been very kind to let him take up +literature instead of going into business. Margaret conjectured that +they were not very well-to-do, and probably uneducated, and that without +any false shame, of which,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> indeed, she judged him incapable, he might +not enjoy being questioned about them; and she was rapidly learning an +insight into his feelings, and a tender care for them. But one day a +sudden impulse put it into her head to ask his Christian name, as yet +unknown to her, and he quietly answered that it was Alcibiades.</p> + +<p>Margaret did not quite appreciate the ghastly irony of the appellation, +but it hit upon her ear unpleasantly, and yet not as entirely +unfamiliar. She was silent while her mind made one of those plunges +among old memories, which, as when one reaches one's arm into a still +pool after something glimmering at the bottom, only ruffles the water +until the wished-for treasure is entirely lost to view; then she frankly +said. "I was trying to think where I had heard your name before, but I +can't."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith actually colored, a rare thing for him, and Margaret longed to +start some fresh topic, but could think of none. He did it for her in a +moment, by asking her whether she meant to go to the German next +Thursday.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall. I don't know anyone there, and it doesn't seem +worth while."</p> + +<p>"I was going to ask you," said Mr. Smith, still with a slight confusion +which she had never noticed in him before, "if you would mind going, and +sitting it out with me as we did the other night?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, but—oh, yes, I should enjoy that ever so much, but—would you like +it? You wouldn't go if it were not for me, would you?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly should not go if it were not for you; and I shall like it +better than I ever liked anything in my life."</p> + +<p>It was now Margaret's turn to blush, and far more deeply. They had +reached the corner of West Cedar Street, and parted with but few words +more, for he never went further with her, and she went home in a happy +dream, only broken by a few slight perplexities. What should she wear? +She could not be marked out by that old pink silk again; she must wear +the white, and make the best of it. And how was she to get there? She +knew that it would not have been the thing for Mr. Smith to ask her to +go with him. She was so urgent about the matter that she brought herself +to do what she fairly hated, and wrote a timid little note to Mrs. +Underwood, asking if she might not go with her. Mrs. Underwood wrote +back that she was sorry, but her carriage was full; she would meet Miss +Parke in the cloak-room. Even Cousin Susan was a little moved at this, +and said it was too bad of Mrs. Underwood, though she had no suggestion +to make herself but her former one of a cab. Margaret was apprehensive; +but she knew that when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> once got there, Mr. Smith would make it all +right and easy for her, and her little troubles faded away in the light +of a great pleasure beyond. The old white muslin looked better than +might have been expected, and Cousin Susan gave her a lovely pair of +long gloves; and she came down into the sitting-room to show off their +effect, well pleased. On the table stood a big blue box with a card +bearing her name attached to it. Mrs. Swain, who had come in to see her +dress, was regarding it curiously, and Jenny, who had brought it up, was +lingering and peering through the half-open door.</p> + +<p>"Your partner has sent you some flowers, Margaret," said Cousin Susan +with unusual animation. "Do open that immense box, and let us see them!"</p> + +<p>Margaret had never thought of Mr. Smith sending her any flowers. She +wished that Jenny had had the sense to take them into her own room; she +would have liked to open them by herself; but it was of no use to +object, and slowly and unwillingly she untied the cords, and lifted the +lid. Silver paper, sheet upon sheet, cotton wool, layer upon layer; and +then more silver paper came forth. An ineffable perfume was filling her +senses and bringing up dim early memories. It grew stronger, and they +grew weaker, as at last she took out a great bunch of white lilacs, the +large sprays<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> tied loosely and carelessly together with a wide, soft, +thick white ribbon.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Swain, in a slightly disappointed tone; "yes, very +pretty; I suppose that is the style now; and they are raised in a +hothouse, and must be a rarity at this season."</p> + +<p>"Where's his card?" asked Cousin Susan. But the card was tightly crushed +up in Margaret's hand; she was not going to have "Alcibiades" exclaimed +over. She need not have been afraid, for it only bore the words, "Mr. A. +Smith, Jr." A pencil line was struck through "14,000 Michigan Avenue, +Chicago," and "Garden Street, Cambridge," scribbled over it.</p> + +<p>Margaret wondered how she should ever get her precious flowers safely +upstairs and into the hall—the box was so big; but the moment the +carriage stopped an obsequiously bowing servant helped her out, seized +her load, ushered her up and into the cloak-room, and set down his +burden with an impressiveness that seemed to strike even the chattering +groups of girls. Mrs. Underwood was nowhere to be seen, and Margaret was +glad to have time to adjust her dress carefully. She took out her +flowers at last; but on turning to the glass for a last look, saw that +one of the knots of ribbon on her bodice was half-unpinned, and stopped +to lay her nosegay down, while she secured it more firmly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" cried a voice beside her; "don't, pray don't put them +down"; and Margaret turned to meet the pretty girl, very pretty now, +whose passing word at the last dance had been the only sign of notice +she had received from one of her own sex. "You'll spoil them," she went +on; "do let me take them while you pin on your bow."</p> + +<p>Margaret, surprised and grateful, yielded up her flowers, which the +other took gingerly with the tips of her fingers, tossing her own large +lace-edged bouquet of red rosebuds on to a chair.</p> + +<p>"You will spoil your own beautiful flowers," said Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mine are tough! And then—why, they are very nice, of course, but +not anything to compare to yours"—handling them as if they were made of +glass.</p> + +<p>Margaret, astonished, took them back with thanks, and wished a moment +later, that she had asked this good-natured young person to let her go +into the ballroom with her party. But she had already been swept off by +a crowd of friends, throwing back a parting smile and nod, and Margaret, +left alone, and rather nervous at finding how late it was getting, +walked across the room to the little side door that led into the dancing +hall, and peeped through. There sat Mrs. Underwood at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> further end, +having evidently forgotten her very existence; and she drew back with a +renewed sensation of awkward uncertainty.</p> + +<p>"They must have cost fifty dollars at least," said the clear, crisp +tones of Miss Kitty Chester, so near her that she started, and then +perceived, by a heap of pink flounces on the floor, that the sofa +against the wall of the ballroom, close by the door, was occupied, +though by whom she could not see without putting her head completely +out, and being seen in her turn.</p> + +<p>"One might really almost dance with little Smith for that," went on the +speaker.</p> + +<p>"Ralph Underwood says he isn't anything so bad as he looks," said the +gentler voice of Margaret's new acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! I should hope not; that would be a little too much," +laughed Kitty.</p> + +<p>"He is very clever, I hear, and has very good manners, considering—and +she seems such a thoroughly nice girl."</p> + +<p>"Why, Gladys, you are quite in earnest about it. But now, do you think +that you could ever make up your mind to be Mrs. Alcibiades?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course not! but things are so different. A girl may be just as +nice a girl, and,"—she stopped as suddenly as if she were shot. +Margaret could discern the cause perfectly well; it was that Mr. Smith +was approaching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the door, looking out, she had no doubt, for her, and +unconsciously returning the bows of the invisible pair. She had the +consideration to wait a few moments before she appeared, and then she +passed the sofa without a look, taking in through the back of her head, +as it were, Miss Kitty's raised eyebrows and round mouth of comic +despair, and poor Gladys's scarlet cheeks. Her own affairs were becoming +so engrossing, that it mattered little to her what other people thought +or said of them; and she crossed the floor on her partner's arm as +unconsciously as if they were alone together, and spoke to the matrons +with the ease which comes of absolute indifference. She did not mind +Mrs. Underwood's short answers, or Mrs. Thorndike Freeman's little +ungracious nod, but the long stare with which the latter lady regarded +her flowers troubled her a little. What was the matter with them? +Somehow, Mr. Smith had given her the impression of a man who counts his +sixpences, and if he had really been sending her anything very +expensive, it was flattering, though imprudent. Margaret was now +beginning to feel a personal interest in his affairs, and its growth had +been so gradual and so fostered by circumstances, that she was less shy +with him than young girls usually are in such a position. She felt quite +equal to administering a gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> scolding when she had the chance; and +when they were seated, and the music made it safe to talk +confidentially, she began with conciliation.</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much for these beautiful flowers."</p> + +<p>"Do you like the way they are put up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, they are perfect; but they are too handsome for me to carry. +You ought not to have sent me such splendid ones, nor spent so much upon +them. I did not have any idea what they were till I came here and +everybody—"</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," said Mr. Smith, apologetically, "to have made you so +conspicuous; but really I never thought of their costing so much, or +making such a show. I wanted to send you white lilacs, because somehow +you always make me think of them; don't you remember telling me about +the lilac bushes at Royalston? And when I saw the wretched little bits +at the florist's I told them to cut some large sprays, and never thought +of asking how much they would be." Then, as Margaret's eyes grew larger +with anxiety, he went on, with an air of amusement she had seldom seen +in him, "Never mind! I guess I can stand it for once, and I won't do so +again. I'll tell you, Miss Parke, you shall choose the next flowers I +give you, if you will. Will you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> be my partner at the next German, and +give me a chance?"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could," said Margaret, "but I shall not be here then. I am +going home."</p> + +<p>"What—so soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my term at the Art School will be over, and I know Cousin Susan +won't want to have me stay after that. She hates to have anyone round. +Mother thought that if I came down, Mrs. Underwood would ask me to visit +her before I went home, but she hasn't, and," with a little sigh, "I +must go. Never mind! I have had a very nice time."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith seemed about to say something, but checked himself; perhaps he +might have taken it up again, but just then Ralph Underwood approached +to ask Margaret for a turn. Something in her partner's manner had set +her heart beating, and she was glad to rise and work off her excitement. +As she spun round with young Underwood, she felt that his former frigid +indifference was replaced by a sort of patronising interest, a mood that +pleased her better, for she could cope with it; and when he said, "I'm +so glad you like Al Smith, Miss Parke; he is a thorough good fellow," +she looked him full in the face, with an emphatic, "Yes, that he is," +which silenced him completely.</p> + +<p>The men Margaret had danced with the last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> time asked her again; and she +was introduced to so many more, that she was on the floor a very fair +share of the time. Her reputation as a wall-flower seemed threatened; +but it was too late, for she went home that night from her last girlish +gayety. The attentions which would have been so delightful at her first +ball were rather a bore now. They kept breaking up her talks with Mr. +Smith, making them desultory and fitful; and then she had such a hurried +parting from him at last! It was too bad! and she might not have such +another chance to see him before she left. Their talks were becoming too +absorbing to be carried on with any comfort in the street,—it would be +hateful to say good-by there. Perhaps he felt that himself, and would +not try to meet her there again. She almost hoped he would not; and yet, +as she entered the Public Garden a little later than usual the next +morning, what a bound her heart gave as she saw him, evidently waiting +for her! As he advanced to meet her, he said at once,—</p> + +<p>"Miss Parke, will you walk a little way on the Common with me? There are +not so many people there, and I have something I wish very much to say +to you."</p> + +<p>Simple as Margaret was, it was impossible for her not to see that Mr. +Smith "meant something"; only he did not have at all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> air that she +had supposed natural to the occasion. He looked neither confident nor +doubtful, but calm, and a little sad. Perhaps it was not the great +"something," after all, but an inferior "something else." She walked +along with him in silence, her own face perplexed and doubtful enough. +But when they reached the long walk across the loneliest corner of the +Common, almost deserted at this season, he said, without further +preface,—</p> + +<p>"I don't think I ought to let you go home without telling you how great +a happiness your stay here has been to me. I never thought I should +enjoy anything—I mean anything of that kind—so much. It would not be +fair not to tell you so, and it would not be fair to myself either. I +must let you know how much I love you. I don't suppose there is much +chance of your returning it, but you ought to know it."</p> + +<p>Margaret's downcast eyes and blushes, according to the wont of girls, +might mean anything or nothing; but her eyes were brimming over with +great tears, that, in spite of all her efforts to check them, rolled +slowly over her crimson cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Don't, pray, feel so sorry about it," said her lover more cheerfully; +"there is no need of that. I have been very happy since I first saw +you,—happier than I ever was before. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> knew it could not last long; +but I shall have the memory of it always. You have given me more +pleasure than pain, a great deal."</p> + +<p>For the first and last time in her life, Margaret felt a little provoked +with Mr. Smith. Was the man blind? Then, as she looked down at his face, +pale with suppressed emotion, a great wave of mingled pity and reverence +at their utmost height swept over her, and made her feel for a moment +how near human nature can come to the divine. Had he, indeed, been +blind, light must have dawned for him; though, as it was never his way +to leave things at loose ends, he had probably intended all along to say +just what he did. He stopped short, and said in tones that were now +tremulous with a rising hope,—</p> + +<p>"Margaret, tell me if you can love me ever so little?"</p> + +<p>"How can I help it, when you have been so good to me?" Margaret +contrived to stammer out, vexed with herself that she had nothing better +to say. Her words sounded so inadequate—so foolish.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you mustn't take me merely out of gratitude," said he, rather +sadly.</p> + +<p>"Merely out of gratitude!" cried Margaret, her tongue loosened as if by +magic, and exulting in her freedom as her words hurried over each other. +"Why, what is there better than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> gratitude, or what more would you want +to be loved for? If I had seen you behave to another girl as you have to +me, I might have admired and respected you more than any man I ever saw; +but I shouldn't have had the right to love you for it, as I do now. Oh!" +she went on, all radiant now with beauty and happiness, "how I wish I +could do something for you that would make you feel for one single +moment to me as I feel to you, and then you would never, never talk of +mere gratitude again!</p> + +<p>"Darling, forgive me—only give yourself to me, and I'll feel it all my +life."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was no Art School for Margaret that day, nor any thought of it, as +she and Mr. Smith walked up and down the long walk again and again, +until she was frightened to find how late it was, and hurried home; but +now he proudly walked with her to the very door. They had so much to say +about the past and the future both, and it was hard to tell which was +most delightful; whether they laughingly recalled their first meeting, +or more soberly discussed their future plans. How fortunate it was, +after all, that she was going back so soon, as now Mr. Smith could +follow her in a few days to Royalston. Margaret said she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> must write to +mamma that night—she could not wait; and Mr. Smith said he hoped that +her parents would not want to have their engagement a very long one. Of +course he had some means besides his books on which to marry. It was +asking a great deal of her father and mother, but perhaps he need not +take her so very much away from them. Would it not be pleasant to have +their home at Royalston, where he could do a great deal of his work, and +run down to Boston when necessary? Margaret was charmed with the idea, +and said that living was so cheap there, and house rent—oh, almost +nothing.</p> + +<p>Margaret found Cousin Susan up and halfway through her lunch. She +apologised in much confusion, but her cousin did not seem to mind. She, +as well as Margaret, was occupied with some weighty affair of her own, +and both were silent till Jenny had carried off the lunch tray, when +both wanted to speak, but Margaret, always the quicker of the two, began +first. Might not Mr. Smith call that evening? He had been saying—of +course it could not be considered anything till her father and mother +had heard—but she thought Cousin Susan ought to know it before he +called at her house—only no one else must know a word till she had +written home.</p> + +<p>This rather incoherent confession was helped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> out by the prettiest +smiles and blushes; but Mrs. Manton showed none of an older woman's +usual prompt comprehension and pleasure in helping out a faltering +love-tale. She listened in stolid silence, the most repellent of +confidantes, and when it ended in an almost appealing cadence, she broke +out with, "Margaret Parke, I am astonished at you!"</p> + +<p>Margaret first started, then stared amazedly.</p> + +<p>"I would not have believed it if anyone had told me!" went on Mrs. +Manton. "I would never have thought that your mother's daughter could +sell herself in that barefaced way."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"As if you did not know perfectly well that you were taking that—that +Smith—" she paused in vain for an epithet; but the mere name sounded +more opprobrious than any she could have selected—"for his money!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Mr. Smith hasn't much money; he may have enough to +live on; but I can't help that."</p> + +<p>"Margaret, don't quibble with the truth. You know well enough that he +will have it all. Who else is there for the old man to leave it to?"</p> + +<p>"What old man?"</p> + +<p>"Why, old Smith, of course! You can't pretend you don't know who he is, +and you have been artful enough to keep it all from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> me! You knew if I +heard his Christian name it would all come out! I don't know what your +father and mother will say! Mrs. Champion Pryor has been calling here +to-day, and told me the whole story, and how you have been seen walking +the streets with him for hours. I would scarcely credit it."</p> + +<p>"His Christian name! what's that got to do with it? He can't help it!" +Margaret's first words rang out defiantly enough; but her voice faltered +on the last, as her mind made another painful plunge after vanished +memories. Cousin Susan rose, and rang the bell herself; more wonderful +still, she went out into the entry, closing the door after her while she +spoke to Jenny, and when the girl had run rapidly upstairs and down +again, returned with something in her hand.</p> + +<p>"I knew Jenny had some of the vile stuff," she said triumphantly; "she +was taking it last Friday, when I tried to persuade her to send for the +doctor, and be properly treated for her cough." And she thrust a large +green glass bottle under Margaret's eyes with these words on the paper +label:</p> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">Erigeron Elixir</span>.</h3> + +<h4>"An Unfailing cure for</h4> + +<h4>"Ague. Asthma. Bright's Disease. Bronchitis.</h4> + +<h4>Catarrh. Consumption. Colds. Coughs.</h4> + +<h4>Diphtheria. Dropsy.</h4> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">"(We spare our readers the remainder of the alphabet.)</p> + +<p class="center">"All genuine have the name of the inventor and proprietor +blown on the bottle, thus:</p> + +<h4>"<span class="smcap">Alcibiades Smith</span>."</h4> + +<p>A sudden light flashed upon poor Margaret, showing her forgotten piles +of bottles on the counters of village stores, and long columns of +unheeded advertisements in the country newspapers. She stood silent and +shamefaced.</p> + +<p>"What will your father say?" reiterated Cousin Susan. Dr. Parke's +reputation with the general public was largely founded on a series of +letters he had contributed to a scientific journal exposing and +denouncing quack medicines.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know," said Margaret, helplessly, wondering that the truth +could sound so like a lie, but unable to fortify it by any asseveration.</p> + +<p>"Why, you must have heard about the Smiths: everybody has. They have cut +the most ridiculous figure everywhere. They came to Clifton Springs once +while I was there; and they were really too dreadful; the kind of people +you can't stay in the room with." Cousin Susan had not talked so much +for years, and began to feel that the excitement was doing her good, +which may excuse her merciless pelting of poor Margaret. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> were too +young, perhaps," she went on, "to have heard about Ossian Smith, the +oldest son, but the newspapers were full of him—of the life he led in +London and Paris, when he was a mere boy. The American minister got him +home at last, and a pretty penny old Smith had to pay to get him out of +his entanglements. He had delirium tremens, and jumped out of a window, +and killed himself, soon after—the best thing he could do. But you must +have heard of Lunetta Smith, the daughter; about her running away with +the coachman; it happened only about three or four years ago. Why, the +New York <i>Sun</i> had two columns about it, and the <i>World</i> four. All the +family were interviewed, your young man among the rest, and the comic +papers said the mésalliance appeared to be on the coachman's side. She +died, too, soon after; you must have heard of it."</p> + +<p>"No, I never did. Father never lets me read the daily papers," said +Margaret, a little proudly.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Cousin Susan, with relaxing energy, "I don't often read +such things myself; but one can't help noticing them; and Mrs. Champion +Pryor has been telling me a great deal about it."</p> + +<p>"And did Mrs. Pryor tell you anything about my—about young Mr. Smith?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, she said he was always very well spoken of. He was younger than the +rest and delicate in health, and took to study; and his father had a +good deal of money in time to educate him. They say he's rather clever, +and the old man is quite proud of him; but he can't be a gentleman, +Margaret—it is not possible."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he can!" burst out Margaret; "he's too much of a man not to be a +gentleman, too!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Cousin Susan, suddenly collapsing, "I can't talk any +longer. I have such a headache. If you have asked him to call, I suppose +he must come; but I can't see him. What's that? a box for you? more +flowers? Oh, dear, do take them away. If there is anything I cannot +stand when I have a headache, it is flowers about, and I can smell those +lilacs you carried last night all the way downstairs, and through two +closed doors."</p> + +<p>Poor Margaret escaped to her own room with her flowers to write her +letter, the difficulty of her task suddenly increased. Mrs. Manton threw +herself back on the sofa to nurse her headache, but found that it was of +no use, and that what she needed was fresh air. She ordered a cab, and +drove round to see Mrs. Underwood, unto whom, in strict confidence, she +freed her mind. She found some relief in the dismay her recital gave her +hearer. Ralph<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> Underwood was slowly recovering from the fit of +disappointment in which he had wreaked his ill-temper on whoever came +near him, as a younger, badly trained child might do on the chairs and +tables; and his mother, his chief <i>souffre douleur</i>; who in her turn had +made all around her feel her own misery, was now beginning ruefully to +count up the damages, of which she felt a large share was due to the +Parkes. She had been wondering whether she could not give a little lunch +for Margaret; she could, at least, take her to the next German, and find +her some better partner than Al Smith. Nothing could have been more +disconcerting than this news. She could not with any grace do anything +for Margaret now to efface the memories of the first part of her visit, +and the Parkes must blame her doubly for the neglect which had allowed +this engagement to take place. Why, even Susan Manton put on an injured +air!</p> + +<p>She craved some comfort in her turn, and after keeping the secret for a +day and a night, told it in the strictest confidence to her intimate +friend, Mrs. Thorndike Freeman, whose "dropping in" was an irresistible +temptation.</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Mrs. Freeman, "is it that large young woman with red +cheeks, whom you brought one evening to Papanti's? I think it will be an +excellent thing; why, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> Smiths can use her photograph as an +advertisement for the Elixir."</p> + +<p>"Yes—but then her parents—you see, she's Mary Pickering's daughter."</p> + +<p>"Mary Pickering has been married to a country doctor for five and twenty +years, hasn't she? You may be sure her eyes are open by this time. +Depend upon it, they would swallow Al Smith, if he were bigger than he +is. The daughter seems to have found no difficulty in the feat."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Underwood, with a sigh, "perhaps I ought to be glad +that poor Al has got some respectable girl to take him for his money. I +never dreamed one would."</p> + +<p>"It isn't likely that he ever asked one before," said Mrs. Freeman, with +a double-edged sneer.</p> + +<p>The door-bell rang, and the butler ushered in Margaret, who had come to +make her farewell call. Mrs. Underwood looked at her in astonishment. +Was this the shy, blushing girl who had come from Royalston three short +months ago? With such gentle sweetness did she express her gratitude for +the elder lady's kind attentions, with such graceful dignity did she +wave aside a few awkwardly hinted apologies, above all, so regally +beautiful did she look, that Mrs. Underwood felt more than ever that she +would be called to account by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> the parents of such a creature. Margaret +had quite forgiven Mrs. Underwood, for, she reasoned, if that lady had +done as she ought to have done by her, she would never have had the +chance of knowing Al, a contingency too dreadful to contemplate; and her +forgiveness added to the superiority of her position. Mrs. Underwood +could only reiterate the eternal useless regret of the tempted and +fallen: "If things had not happened just when, and how, and as they +did!" She envied Mrs. Freeman, who was now in the easiest manner +possible plying the young girl with devoted attentions, with large doses +of flattery thrown in. Mrs. Freeman, meanwhile, was mentally resolving +to call on Margaret before she left town, in which case they could +hardly avoid sending her wedding-cards. She foresaw that, as two +negatives make an affirmative, Mr. and Mrs. Alcibiades Smith, Jr., might +yet be worthy of the honor of her acquaintance.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Margaret's engagement was no primrose path. It was easier for her when +her lover was away, for he wrote delightful letters, but they rarely had +one happy and undisturbed hour together. Dr. and Mrs. Parke, of course, +gave their consent to the marriage; but they did not like it, and did +not pretend to. Dr. Parke, who, as is the wont of his profession,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +placed a high value on physical attractions, and who cared as little for +money as any sane man could, hardly restrained his expressions of +dislike. "What business," he growled, "had the fellow to ask her?" Mrs. +Parke, while trying hard to keep her husband in order, was cold and +constrained herself. Being a woman, she thought less of looks, and had +learned in her married life to appreciate the value of money. She would +have liked Margaret to make a good match; but here was more money by +twenty times than she would have asked, had it only been offered by a +lover more worthy of her beautiful daughter! And yet, if Margaret would +only have been open with her! If she would have frankly said that she +was tired of being poor, and could not forego the opportunity of +marrying a rich man, who was a good sort of man enough, Mrs. Parke could +have understood, and pitied, and forgiven; but to see her put on such an +affectation of attachment for him drove her mother nearly wild. Why, she +acted as if she were more in love than he was!</p> + +<p>The boys had been duly respectful on hearing that their sister's +betrothed was a "Harvard man," but grew contemptuous when they found him +so unfit for athletics. Relations and friends, and acquaintances of +every degree, believed, and still believe, and always will believe,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +that Margaret's was one of the most mercenary of mercenary marriages. +Some blamed her parents for allowing it; others thought that their +opposition was feigned, and that they were really forcing poor Margaret +into it.</p> + +<p>The two younger children, Harry and Winnie, at once adopted their new +brother, and stood up stanchly for him on all occasions, and their +sister was eternally grateful to them for it. Her only other support +came, of all the people in the world, from Ralph Underwood. He could not +be best man at the wedding, as he was going abroad with his mother, who +was sadly run down and needed change; but he wrote Margaret a +straightforward, manly letter, in which he said that he trusted, +unworthy as he was, she would admit him to her friendship for Al's sake. +He spoke of all he owed to his friend in such a way that Margaret +perceived that more had passed in their college days than she ever had +been or ever should be told.</p> + +<p>The family discomfort came to a climax on the day before the wedding, +when the great Alcibiades Smith himself and his wife made their +appearance at Royalston. They stayed at the hotel with their suite, but +spent the evening with the Parkes to make the acquaintance of their new +connections. Old Mr. Smith<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> pronounced Margaret "a bouncer." He had +always known, he said, that Al would get some kind of a wife, but never +thought it would be such a stunner as this one. It naturally fell to him +to be entertained by Dr. Parke, or rather to entertain him, which he did +by relating the whole history of the Elixir, from its first invention to +the number of million bottles that were put up the last year, winding up +every period with, "As you're a medical man yourself, sir." Mrs. Smith +was quieter, and though well pleased, a little awe-struck, as her French +maid, her authority and terror, had told her, after Mrs. Parke's and +Margaret's brief call at the hotel that afternoon, that these were, +evidently, "<i>dames très comme il faut</i>." She poured into Mrs. Parke's +ear, in a corner, the tale of all Al's early illnesses, and the various +treatments he had had for them, till her hearer no longer wondered at +their being so little of him; the wonder was, that there was anything +left at all. Then, à propos of marriages, she grew confidential and +almost tearful about their distresses in the case of their daughter +"Luny." She did think Mr. Smith a little to blame for poor Luny's +runaway match. There was an Italian count whom she liked, but her father +could not be induced to pay his debts, and "a girl must marry somebody, +you know," she wound up, with a look at Margaret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret, in after years, could appreciate the comedy of the situation. +It is no wonder if it seemed to her at the time the most gloomily +tragical that perverse ingenuity could devise. Al's manner to his +parents was perfect. He was very silent; not more, perhaps, than he +always was in a room full, but she thought he looked fagged and tired, +and wondered how he could bear it. She longed intensely to say something +sympathetic to him; but, like most girls on the eve of their marriage, +she felt overpowered with shyness. If this dreadful evening ever came to +an end, and they were ever married, then she would tell him, once for +all, that she loved him all the better for all and everything that he +had to bear.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"They will spoil the whole effect," said Mrs. Parke, despondently, as +she put the last careful touches to Margaret's wedding-dress. It was a +very simple but becoming one of rich plain silk, with a little lace, and +the pearl daisies with diamond dewdrops, sent by the bridegroom, +accorded with it well. But Mr. Smith, senior, had begged that his gift, +or part of it, should be worn on the occasion, and Mrs. Parke now slowly +opened a velvet box, in which lay a crescent and a cross. Neither she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +nor Margaret was accustomed to estimate the price of diamonds, and had +they been, they would have seen that these were far beyond their mark.</p> + +<p>"They don't go with the dress," repeated Mrs. Parke, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind; to please Mr. Smith," said Margaret, carelessly, as she +bent forward to allow her mother to clasp round her neck the slender row +of stones that held the cross, and to stick the long pins of the +crescent with dexterous hand through the gathered tulle, of the veil and +the thick wavy bands of hair beneath it.</p> + +<p>As she drew herself up to her full height again before the mirror, it +seemed as if the June day outside had taken on the form of a mortal +girl. The gold and blue of the heavens, the pink and white of the +blossoming fields, whose luminous tints rested so softly on hair and +eyes, on cheek and brow, were reflected and intensified in the rainbow +rays of light that blazed on her head and at her throat. It was not in +human nature not to look with one touch of pride and pleasure at the +vision in the glass. But the sight of another face behind hers made her +turn quickly round, with, "O mamma! mamma! what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, my dear; it's a very magnificent present; only I thought—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mamma! surely you don't think I care for such things! you don't, you +can't think I am the least bit influenced by them in marrying Al. O +mamma! don't, don't look at me so!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, my dear. We will not talk about it now. It is too late for +me to say anything, I know, and I am very foolish."</p> + +<p>"Mother!" cried the girl, piteously; "you <i>must</i> believe me! You <i>know</i> +that when Al asked me to marry him, and I said I would, I had no idea, +not the slightest idea, that he had a penny in the world!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Margaret! hush, my dear! you are excited, and so am I. Don't say +anything you may wish afterwards that you had not. God bless you, and +make you a happy woman, and a good wife; but don't begin your married +life with a—" Mrs. Parke choked down the word with a great sob, and +hastily left the room. It was high noon, and she had not yet put on her +own array.</p> + +<p>Margaret stood stiff and blind with horror. Had she really known, then? +Had her hand been bought? Then she remembered her own innocence when she +told her love. Not so proudly, not so freely, not so gladly, could it +ever have been told to the millionaire's son. A rush of self-pity came +over her, softening the indignant throbbing of her heart, and opening +the fountains of tears. She was at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> point where a woman must have a +good cry, or go mad,—but where could she give way? Not here, where +anyone might come in. Indeed, there was Winnie's voice at the door of +the nursery, eager to show her bridesmaid's toilette. Margaret snatched +up two white shawls which lay ready on the sofa, caught up the heavy +train of her gown in one hand, and flew down the front staircase like a +hunted swan, through the library to the sacred room beyond—her father's +study, now, as she well knew, deserted, while its owner was above, +reluctantly dressing for the festivity. She pushed the only chair +forward to the table, threw one shawl over it, and laying the other on +the table itself, sat down, and carefully bending her head down over her +folded arms, so as not to crush her veil by a feather's touch, let loose +the flood-gates. In a moment she was crying as only a healthy girl who +seldom cries can, when she once gives up to it.</p> + +<p>Someone spoke to her; she never heard it. Someone touched her; she never +felt it. It was only when a voice repeated, "Why, Margaret, dearest, +what is the matter?" that she checked herself with a mighty effort, +swallowed her sobs, and still holding her handkerchief over her +tear-stained cheeks and quivering mouth, turned round to find herself +face to face with her bridegroom, who having stopped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> to take up his +best man, Alick Parke, was waiting till that young man tied his sixth +necktie. She well knew that a lover who finds his betrothed crying her +eyes out half an hour before the wedding has a prescriptive right to be +both angry and jealous; but he looked neither; only a little anxious and +troubled.</p> + +<p>"Darling, has anything happened?"</p> + +<p>"No—not exactly; that is—O Al! they won't believe me!"</p> + +<p>"They! who?"</p> + +<p>"Not one single one of them. Not mother, even mother! I thought she +would—but she doesn't."</p> + +<p>"Does not what?"</p> + +<p>"She does not believe," said Margaret, trying to steady her voice, "that +when you asked me to marry you, and I said I would, that I did not know +you were rich. I told her, but she won't believe me."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Smith, quietly, though with a little flush on his face; +"it's very natural. I don't blame her."</p> + +<p>"Al!" cried Margaret, seizing both his hands; "O Al, you don't—you +do—<i>you</i> believe me, don't you, Al? <i>don't</i> you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_010.jpg" width="400" height="94" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="POOR_MR_PONSONBY" id="POOR_MR_PONSONBY"></a>POOR MR. PONSONBY</h2> + +<p>On a bright, windy morning in March, Miss Emmeline Freeman threw open +the gate of her mother's little front garden on Walnut Street, +Brookline, slammed it behind her with one turn of her wrist, marched +with an emphatic tapping of boot-heels up the path between the +crocus-beds to the front door, threw that open, and rushed into the +drawing-room, where she paused for breath, and began before she found +it:</p> + +<p>"O mamma! O Aunt Sophia! O Bessie! What do you think? Lily Carey—you +would never guess—Lily Carey—I was never so surprised in my life—Lily +Carey is engaged!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Freeman laid down her pen by the side of her column of figures, +losing her account for the seventh time; Miss Sophia Morgan paused in +the silk stocking she was knitting, just as she was beginning to narrow; +and Bessie Freeman dropped her brush full of colour on to the panel she +was finishing, while all three exclaimed with one voice, "To whom?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is the queer part of it. You will never guess. Indeed, how should +you?"</p> + +<p>"To whom?" repeated the chorus, with a unanimity and precision that +would have been creditable to the stage, and with the due accent of +impatience on the important word.</p> + +<p>"To no one you ever would have dreamed of; indeed, you never heard of +him—a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby. It is a most romantic thing. He is an +Englishman, very good family and handsome and all that, but not much +money. That is why it has been kept quiet so long."</p> + +<p>"So long? How long?" chimed in the trio, still in unison.</p> + +<p>"Why, for three years and more. Lily met him in New York that time she +was there in the summer, you know, when her father was ill at the Fifth +Avenue Hotel. But Mr. Carey would never let it be called an engagement +till now."</p> + +<p>"Did Lily tell you all this?" asked Bessie.</p> + +<p>"No, Ada Thorne was telling everyone about it at the lunch party. She +heard it from Lily."</p> + +<p>"I think Lily might have told us herself."</p> + +<p>"She said she did not mean to write to anyone, it has been going on so +long, and her prospects were so uncertain; she did not care to have any +formal announcement, but just to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> have her friends hear of it gradually. +But she sent you and me very kind messages, Bessie, and she wants you to +take the O'Flanigans—that's her district family, you know—and me to +take her Sunday-school class. She says she really must have her Sundays +now to write to Mr. Ponsonby, poor fellow! She has been obliged to +scribble to him at any odd moment she could, and he is so far off."</p> + +<p>"Where is he—in England?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no! In Australia. He owns an immense sheep-farm in West +Australia. He belongs to a very good family; but he was born on the +continent, and has no near relations in England, and has rather knocked +about the world for a good many years. He had not very good luck in +Australia at first, but now things look better there, and he may be able +to come over here this summer, and if he does they will perhaps be +married before he goes back. Mr. Carey won't hear it spoken of now, but +Ada says she has no doubt he will give in when it comes to the point. He +never refuses Lily anything, and if the young man really comes he won't +have the heart to send him back alone, for Ada says he must be +fascinating."</p> + +<p>"Lily seems to have laid her plans very judiciously," said Miss Morgan, +"and if she wishes them generally understood, she does well to confide +them to Ada Thorne."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And she has been engaged for years!" burst out Bessie, whose mental +operations had meanwhile been going ahead of the rest; "why then—then +there could never have been anything between her and Jack Allston!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," replied Emmeline, confidently.</p> + +<p>"Very likely he knew it all the time," said Bessie.</p> + +<p>"Or she may have refused him," said Mrs. Freeman.</p> + +<p>"What is Miss Thorne's version?" said Aunt Sophia. "I shall stand by +that whatever it is. Considering the extent of that young woman's +information, I am perpetually surprised by its accuracy."</p> + +<p>"Ada thinks Lily never let it come to a proposal, but probably let Jack +see from the beginning that it would be useless, and that is why they +were on such friendly terms."</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Aunt Sophia, "I am always glad to think better of my +fellow-creatures. I always thought Jack Allston a fool for marrying as +he did if he could have had Lily, and now I only think him half a one, +since he couldn't. I am only afraid the folly is on poor Lily's side. +However, we must all fulfil our destiny, and I always said she was born +to become the heroine of a domestic drama, at least."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, here's Bob!" said Emmeline, as her elder brother's entrance broke +in upon the conversation. "Bob, who do you think is engaged?"</p> + +<p>"You have lost your chance of telling, Emmie," replied the young man, +with a careful carelessness of manner; "I have just had the pleasure of +walking from the village with Ada Thorne."</p> + +<p>"Really, it is too bad of Ada," said Emmeline, as she adjusted her hat +at the glass. "She will not leave me one person to tell by to-morrow. +Bessie, I think as long as we are going to five o'clock tea at the +Pattersons', and I have all my things on, I will set out now and make +some calls on the way. You might dress and come after me. I will be at +Nina Turner's. Mamma and Aunt Sophy can"—but her voice was an +indistinct buzz in her brother's ears, as he stood looking blankly out +of the window at the bright crocus tufts. He had never had any intention +of proposing to Lily Carey himself, and he knew that if he had she would +never have accepted him, yet somehow a shadow had crept over the day +that was so bright before.</p> + +<p>Lily Carey was at that time a very conspicuous figure in Boston society; +that is, in the little circle of young people who went to all the "best" +balls and assemblies. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> also well known in some that were less +select, for the Careys had too assured a position to be exclusive, and +were too good-natured to be fashionable, so that she knew the whole +world and the whole world knew her. To be exact, she was acquainted with +about one five-hundredth part of the inhabitants of Boston and vicinity, +was known by sight to about twice as many, and by name to as many more, +with acquaintance also in such other cities and villages as had +sufficiently advanced in civilisation to have a "set" which knew the +Boston "set." She stood out prominently from the usual dead level of +monotonous prettiness which is the rule in American ballrooms and +gives piquant plainness so many advantages. Her nymph-like figure, +dressed very likely in a last-year's gown of no particular fashion—for +the Careys were of that Boston <i>monde</i> which systematically +under-dresses—made the other girls look small and pinched and +doll-like; her towering head, crowned with a great careless roll of her +bright chestnut hair, made theirs look like barbers' dummies; and her +brilliant colouring made one half of them show dull and dingy, the other +faded and washed out. These advantages were not always appreciated as +such—by no means; unusual beauty, like unusual genius, may fly over the +heads of the uneducated; and it was the current opinion among the young +ladies who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> only knew her by sight, and their admirers, that "Miss Carey +had no style." Among her own acquaintance she reigned supreme. To have +been in love with Lily Carey was regarded by every youth of quality as a +necessary part of the curriculum of Harvard University; so much so that +it was not at all detrimental to their future matrimonial prospects. Her +old lovers, like her left-over partners, were always at the service of +her whole coterie of adoring intimate friends. If she had no new ideas, +these not being such common articles as is usually supposed, no one +could more cleverly seize upon and deftly adapt some stray old one. She +could write plays when none could be found to suit, and act half the +parts, and coach the other actors; she made her mother give new kinds of +parties, where all the new-old dances and games were brought to life +again; and she set the little fleeting fashions of the day that never +get into the fashion-books, to which, indeed, her dress might happen or +not to correspond; but the exact angle at which she set on her hat, and +the exact knot in which she tied her sash, and the exact spot where she +stuck the rose in her bosom, were subjects of painstaking study, and +objects of generally unsuccessful imitation to the rest of womankind.</p> + +<p>Why Lily Carey at one and twenty was not married, or even engaged, was a +mystery; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> for four years she had been supposed by that whole world +of which we have spoken to be destined for Jack Allston. Jack was young, +handsome, rich, of good family, and so rising in his profession, the +law, that no one could suppose he lacked brains, though in general +matters they were not so evident. For four years he had skated with +Lily, danced with her, sung with her, ridden, if not driven, with her, +sent her flowers, and scarcely paid a single attention of the sort to +any other girl; and Lily had danced, sung, ridden, skated with him, at +least twice as often as with any other man. Jack had had the <i>entrée</i> of +the Carey house, where old family friendship had admitted him from +boyhood, almost as if he were another son, and was made far more useful +than sons generally allow themselves to be made. He came to all parties +early and stayed late, danced with all the wall-flowers and waited upon +all the grandmothers and aunts, and prompted and drew up the curtain, +and took all the "super" parts at their theatricals. He was "Jack" to +all of them, from Papa Carey down to Muriel of four years old. The Carey +family, if hints were dropped, disclaimed so smilingly that everyone was +convinced that they knew all about it, and that Mrs. Carey, a most +careful mother, who spent so much time in acting chaperon to her girls +that she saw but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> little of them, would never have allowed it to go so +far unless there were something in it. Why this something was not +announced was a mystery. At first many reasons were assigned by those +who must have reasons for other people's actions, all very sufficient: +Lily too young, Jack not through the law-school, the Allstons in +mourning, etc., etc.; but as one after another exhibited its futility, +and new ones were less readily discovered, the subject was discussed in +less amiable mood by tantalised expectants, and the ominous sentence was +even murmured, "If they are not engaged they ought to be."</p> + +<p>On October 17, 1887, Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé stock was quoted at +90½, and the engagement of Mr. John Somerset Allston to Miss Julia +Henrietta Bradstreet Noble was announced with all the formality of which +Boston is capable on such occasions. It can hardly be said which piece +of news created the greater sensation; but many a paterfamilias who had +dragged himself home sick at heart from State Street found his family so +engrossed in their own private morsel of intelligence that his, with all +its consequences of no new bonnets and no Bar Harbor next summer, was +robbed of its sting. All was done according to the most established +etiquette. Jack Allston had told all the men at his lunch club, and a +hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> notes from Miss Noble to her friends and relatives, which she +had sat up late for the two preceding nights to write, had been received +by the morning post. Jack had sat up later than she had, but only one +single note had been the product of his vigils.</p> + +<p>Unmixed surprise was the first sensation excited as the news spread. It +was astonishing that Jack Allston should be engaged to any girl but Lily +Carey, and it was not much less so that he should be engaged to Miss +Noble. She was a little older than he was, an only child, and an orphan. +Her family was good, her connections high, and her fortune just large +enough for her to live upon with their help. She was of course invited +everywhere, and received the attentions demanded by politeness; but even +politeness had begun to feel that it had done enough for her, and that +she should perform the social <i>hara-kiri</i> that unmarried women are +expected to make at a certain age. She was very plain and had very +little to say for herself. Her relatives could say nothing for her +except that she was a "nice, sensible girl," a dictum expressed with +more energy after her engagement to Jack Allston, when some of the more +daring even discovered that she was "distinguished looking." The men had +always, from her silence, had a vague opinion that she was stupid, but +amiable; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> other girls were doubtful on both these points, certain +double-edged speeches forcibly recurring to their memory. Their doubts +resolved into certainties after her engagement was announced, when she +became so very unbearable that they could only, with the Spartan +patience shown by young women on such occasions, hold their tongues and +hope that it might be a short one. Their sole relief was in discussing +the question as to whether Jack Allston had thrown over Lily, or whether +she had refused him. Jack was sheepish and shy at being congratulated; +Lily was bright and smiling, and in even higher spirits than usual; Miss +Noble spoke very unpleasantly to and of Lily whenever she had the +chance; but all these points of conduct might and very likely would be +the same under either supposition. Parties were pretty evenly balanced, +and the wedding was over before they had drifted to any final +conclusion. As the season went on Lily looked rather worn and fagged, +which gave the supporters of the first hypothesis some ground; but when, +in the spring, her own engagement came out, it supplied a sufficient +reason, and gave a triumphant and clinching argument to the advocates of +the second. She looked happy enough then, though her own family gave but +a doubtful sympathy. Mr. Carey refused to say anything further than that +he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> hoped Lily knew her own mind; she must decide for herself. Mrs. +Carey looked sad, and changed the subject, saying there was no need of +saying anything about it at present; she was sorry that it was so widely +known and talked about. The younger Carey girls, Susan and Eleanor, +openly declared that they hoped it would never come to anything. Poor +Mr. Ponsonby! His picture was very handsome, and the parts of his +letters they had heard were very nice, but he did not seem likely to get +on in the world, and he could not expect Lily to wait forever. "Would +you like to see his picture?—an amateur one, taken by a friend; and +Lily says it does not do him justice."</p> + +<p>The photograph won the hearts of all the female friends of the family, +who saw it in confidence, and increased their desire to see the +original. But Mr. Ponsonby was not able, as had been expected, to come +over in the summer. Violent rains and consequent floods in the +Australian sheep-runs inflicted so much damage upon his stock that the +marriage was again postponed, at least for a year, in which time he +hoped to get things on a better basis. Lily kept up her spirits bravely. +She did not go to Mount Desert with her mother and sisters, but stayed +at home, wrote her letters, hemstitched her linen, declaring that she +was glad of the time to get up a proper outfit, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> went to bed early, +keeping a pleasant home for her father and the boys as they went and +came, to their huge satisfaction, and gaining in bloom and freshness; so +that she was in fine condition in the fall to nurse her mother through a +low fever caught at a Bar Harbor hotel, also to wait upon Susan, nervous +and worn down with late hours and perpetual racket, and Eleanor, laid up +with a sprained ankle from an overturn in a buckboard.</p> + +<p>Eleanor, though not yet eighteen, was to come out next winter, Lily +declaring that she should give up balls—what was the use when one was +engaged? She stayed at home and saw that her sisters were kept in +ball-gowns and gloves, no light task, taking the part of Cinderella <i>con +amore</i>. She certainly looked younger than Susan at least, who since she +had taken up the Harvard Annex course, besides going out, began to grow +worn and thin.</p> + +<p>One February morning Eleanor's voice rose above the usual babble at the +Carey breakfast-table.</p> + +<p>"Can't I go, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Where, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to the Racket Club german at Eliot Hall, next Tuesday. It's going +to be so nice, you know, only fifty couples, and we ought to answer +directly; and I have just had notes from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> Harry Foster and Julian Jervis +asking me for it."</p> + +<p>"And which shall you dance with?" asked Lily.</p> + +<p>"Why, Harry, of course."</p> + +<p>"I would not have any <i>of course</i> about it," said Lily, rather sharply. +Harry Foster was now repeating Jack Allston's late role in the Carey +family, with Eleanor for his ostensible object. "My advice is, dance +with Julian; and I suppose I must see that your pink net is in order, if +Miss Macalister cannot be induced to hurry up your new lilac."</p> + +<p>"Shall we not go, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Why, mamma, how can we?" broke in Susan, who had her own game in +another quarter. "It's the 'Old Men of Menottomy' night, and we missed +the last, you know."</p> + +<p>"Those old Cambridge parties are the dullest affairs going," said +Eleanor; "I'd rather stay at home than go to them."</p> + +<p>"That is very ungrateful of you," said Lily, laughing, "when I gave up +my place in the 'Misses Carey' to you, for of course I don't go to +either."</p> + +<p>"Can't I go to Eliot Hall with Roland, mamma? He is asked, and Mrs. +Thorne is a patroness; she will chaperon me after I get there."</p> + +<p>"Roland will want to go right back to Cambridge,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> I know—the middle of +the week and everything! He'll be late enough without coming here."</p> + +<p>"Then can't I take Margaret, and depend on Mrs. Thorne?" went on +Eleanor, with the persistence of the youngest pet. "Half the girls go +with their maids that way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know, my dear," said poor Mrs. Carey, looking helplessly +from Eleanor, flushed and eager, to Susan, silent, but with a tightly +shut look on her pretty mouth, that betokened no sign of yielding. "I +never liked it—in a hired carriage—and you can't expect <i>me</i> to go +over the Cambridge bridges without James. And I hate asking Mrs. Thorne +anything, she always makes such a favour of it, and the less trouble it +is the more fuss she gets up about it. Do you and Susan settle it +somehow between you, and let me know when it is decided."</p> + +<p>"Let me go with Eleanor, mamma," said Lily. "Mrs. Freeman will probably +go with Emmeline and Bessie, and she will let me sit with her. I will +wear my old black silk and look the chaperon all over—as good a one, I +will wager, as any there. It will be good fun to act the part, and I +have been engaged so long that I should think I might really begin to +appear in it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Carey was heard to growl, as he pushed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> back his chair and threw his +pile of newspapers on to the floor, that he wished Lily would stop that +nonsensical talk about her engagement once for all; but the girls did +not pause in their chatter, and Mrs. Carey was too much relieved to +argue the point.</p> + +<p>"Only tell me what to do and I will do it," was this poor lady's +favourite form of speech. She set off with a clear conscience on Tuesday +evening with Susan for the assembly at Cambridge, where a promisingly +learned post-graduate of good fortune and family was wont to unbend +himself by sitting out the dances and explaining the theory of evolution +to Miss Susan Carey, who was as mildly scientific as was considered +proper for a young lady of her position. Lily accompanied Eleanor to +more frivolous spheres, where chaperonage was an easier if less exciting +task; for once having touched up her sister's dress in the ante-room, +and handed her over to Julian Jervis, she bade her farewell for the +evening, and herself took the arm of Harry Foster, who, gloomily cynical +at the sight of Eleanor, radiant in her new lilac, with another partner, +had hardly a word to say as he settled her on a bench on the raised +platform where the chaperons congregated, except to ask her sulkily if +she would not "take a turn," which she declined without mincing matters, +and took the only seat left, next to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> Mrs. Jack Allston, who was +matronising a cousin.</p> + +<p>"What, Lily! you here?" asked Mrs. Thorne.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; mamma has gone to Cambridge with Susan, and said I might come +over with Eleanor, and she was sure Mrs. Freeman,"—with a smile at that +lady—"would look after us if we needed it."</p> + +<p>"With the greatest pleasure," said Miss Morgan, who sat by her sister. +"Here have Elizabeth and I both come to take care of our girls, as +half-a-dozen elders sometimes hang on to one child at a circus. We both +of us had set our hearts on seeing <i>this</i> german and would not give up, +so you see there is an extra chaperon at your service."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't your mother find it very troublesome to have three girls out at +once?" asked Mrs. Allston of Lily, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Hardly three; I am not out this winter, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't see any need of staying in because one is engaged, unless, +indeed, it were a very short one, like mine."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Allston cast a rapid and deprecatory glance at the "old black +silk," which had seen its best days, and then a still swifter one at her +own gown, from Worth, but so unbecoming to her that it was easy for Lily +to smile serenely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> back, though her heart sank within her at her +prospects for the evening.</p> + +<p>At the close of the first figure of the german, a slight flutter seemed +to run through the crowd, tending toward the entrance.</p> + +<p>"Who is that standing in the doorway—just come in?" asked Lily, in the +very lowest tone, of Miss Morgan. Miss Morgan looked, shook her head +decidedly, and then passed the inquiry on to Mrs. Thorne, who hesitated +and hemmed.</p> + +<p>"He spoke to me when he first came—but—I really don't recollect—it +must be Mr.—Mr.——"</p> + +<p>"Arend Van Voorst," crushingly put in Mrs. Allston, with somewhat the +effect of a garden-roller. Both of the older ladies looked interested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Thorne, "I sent him a card when I heard he was in +Boston. I have not seen him—at least since he was very young—but his +mother—of course I know Mrs. Van Voorst—a little."</p> + +<p>"I don't know them at all," said Miss Morgan; "but if that's young Van +Voorst, he is better looking than there is any occasion for."</p> + +<p>"He was a classmate and intimate friend of Jack's," said Mrs. Allston, +loftily.</p> + +<p>"I never saw him before," said Lily, incautiously.</p> + +<p>"He only went out in a very small set in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> Boston," said Mrs. Allston. "I +met him often, of course."</p> + +<p>"You were too young, Lily, to meet any one when he was in college," said +Miss Morgan, who liked "putting down Julia Allston."</p> + +<p>"It's too bad the girls are all engaged," said the simple-minded Mrs. +Freeman; "he won't have any partner."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> wouldn't dance!" said Julia, too tough to feel Miss Morgan's light +touches. "Very likely, as you asked him, Mrs. Thorne, he may feel that +he <i>must</i> take a turn with Ada; and when he knows that Kitty Bradstreet +is with me, very likely he will ask her out of compliment to me. He will +hardly ask me to dance at such a very young party as this; I don't see +any of the young married set here but myself."</p> + +<p>Mr. Van Voorst stood quietly in the doorway, hardly appearing to notice +anything, but when Ada Thorne's partner was called out, and she was left +sitting alone, he walked across the room and sat down by her. He did not +ask her to dance, but it was perhaps as great an honour to have the Van +Voorst of New York sitting by her, holding her bouquet and bending over +her in an attitude of devotion; and if what he said did not flatter her +vanity, it touched another sentiment equally strong in Ada even at that +early period of life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who is that girl in black, sitting with the chaperons?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is Lily Carey."</p> + +<p>"Why is she there?"</p> + +<p>"She is chaperoning Eleanor, her youngest sister, that girl in lilac who +is on the floor now. They look alike, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Why, she is not married?"</p> + +<p>"No, only engaged. She has been engaged a great while, and never goes to +balls or anything now—only she came here with Eleanor because Mrs. +Carey wanted to go to Cambridge with Susan. There are three of the +Careys out; it must be a dreadful bother, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"To whom is she engaged?"</p> + +<p>"To a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby—an Englishman settled in Australia +somewhere. They were to have been married last summer, but he had +business losses. She is perfectly devoted to him. He wrote and offered +to release her, but she would not hear of it. She was very much admired; +don't you think her pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Will you introduce me to Miss Carey? I see Mr. Freeman is coming to ask +you for a turn—will you be so kind as to present me first?"</p> + +<p>There was a sort of cool determination about this young man which Ada, +or any other girl, would have found it hard to resist. She did as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> she +was bid, not ill-pleased at the general stir she excited as she crossed +the floor with her two satellites and walked up the platform steps.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Freeman, Miss Morgan, allow me to introduce Mr. Van Voorst. Miss +Carey, Mr. Van Voorst;—I think you know my mother and Mrs. Allston." +And having touched off her train, she whirled away with Robert Freeman, +her observation still on the alert.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Van Voorst exchanged civilities; Mrs. Allston said +Jack was coming soon and would be glad to see him, making room for him +at her side.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, Mrs. Allston. Miss Carey, may I have the pleasure of a +turn with you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Van Voorst! You are quite out of rule—tempting away our +chaperons—you should ask some of the young ladies; we did not come here +to dance."</p> + +<p>"I shall not dare to ask you, then, Mrs. Allston," he said, smiling, and +offered his arm without another word to Lily. She rose without looking +at him, with a quick furtive motion pulled off her left-hand glove—the +right was off already—got out of the crowd about her and down the +steps, she hardly knew how, and in a moment his arm was around her and +they were floating down the long hall. The quartette left behind looked +rather blankly at each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Thorne at last, "it really is too bad for Lily Carey +to come and say she did not mean to dance, and then walk off with Arend +Van Voorst, who has not asked another girl here——"</p> + +<p>"And in that old gown!" chimed in Mrs. Allston.</p> + +<p>"It is certainly very unkind in her to look so well in an old gown," +said Aunt Sophia; "it is a dangerous precedent."</p> + +<p>"Oh, auntie!" said Emmeline, who had come up to have her dress adjusted. +"Poor Lily! She has been so very quiet all the winter, never going to +anything, it would be too bad if she could not have a little pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Very kind in you, my dear; but I don't see the force of your 'poor +Lily.' I shall reserve my pity for poor Mr. Ponsonby—he needs it most."</p> + +<p>It was long since Lily had danced, and as for Mr. Van Voorst, he was, as +we have seen, supposed to be above it on so youthful an occasion; but +perhaps it was this that gave such a zest, as if they were boy and girl +together, to the pleasure of harmonious motion. Round and round again +they went, till the dancing ranks grew thinner, and just as the music +gave signs of drawing to a close, they passed, drawing all eyes, by the +doorway. The line of men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> looking on opened and closed behind them. They +had actually gone out to sit on the stairs, leaving a fruitful topic +behind them for the buzz of talk between the figures. Eleanor Carey, a +pretty girl, and not unlike her sister, bloomed out with added +importance from her connection with one who might turn out to be the +heroine of a drawing-room scandal.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the two who were the theme of comment sat silent under the +palms and ferns. No one knew better when to speak or not to speak than +Lily, and her companion was looking at her with a curiously steady and +absorbed gaze, to which any words would have been an interruption. It +was not "the old black silk" which attracted his attention, except, +perhaps, so far as it formed a background for the beautiful hands that +lay folded together on her lap, too carelessly for coquetry. No such +motive had influenced Lily when she had pulled off her gloves; it was +only that they were not fresh enough to bear close scrutiny; but their +absence showed conspicuous on the third finger of her left hand her only +ring, a heavy one of rough beaten gold with an odd-looking dark-red +stone in it. Not the flutter of a finger betrayed any consciousness as +his eye lingered on it; but as he looked abruptly up he caught a glance +from under her eyelashes which showed that she had on her part been +looking at him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> An irresistible flash of merriment was reflected back +from face to face.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I—I beg your pardon, I thought you said something."</p> + +<p>Both laughed like a couple of children; then he rose and offered his arm +again, and they turned back to the ballroom.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Jack," said Miss Lily brightly, holding out her hand to +Mr. Allston, who had just come in, and was standing in the doorway. +Jack, taken by surprise, as we all are by the sudden appearance of two +people together whom we have never associated in our minds, looked shy +and confused, but made a gallant effort to rally, and got through the +proper civilities well enough, till just as the couple were again +whirling into the ranks, he spoiled it all by asking with an awkward +stammer in his voice:</p> + +<p>"How's—how's Mr. Ponsonby?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, when I last heard," Lily flung back over her shoulder, in +her clearest tone and with a laugh, soft, but heard by both men.</p> + +<p>"What are you laughing at?" asked her partner.</p> + +<p>"At the recollection of my copy-book—was not yours amusing?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say it was, if it was the same as yours."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, they are all alike. What I was thinking of was the page with 'Evil +communications corrupt good manners.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes—Jack was a very good fellow when we were in college +together—but——"</p> + +<p>But "what" was left unsaid. On and on they went, and only stopped with +the music. Lily, having broken the ice, was besieged by every man in the +room for a turn. One or two she did favour with a very short one, but it +was Mr. Van Voorst to whom she gave every other one, and those the +longest, and with whom she walked between the figures; and finally it +was Mr. Van Voorst who took her down to supper. Eleanor and she had all +the best men in the room crowding round them.</p> + +<p>"Come and sit with us, Emmie," she asked, as Emmeline Freeman passed +with her partner; and Emmeline came, half frightened at finding herself +in the midst of what seemed to her a chapter from a novel. Never had the +even tenor of her social experiences,—and they were of as unvarying and +business-like a nature as the "day's work" of humbler maidens—been +disturbed by such an upheaval of fixed ideas; one of which was that Lily +Carey could do no wrong, and another, that there was something "fast" +and improper in having more than one man waiting upon you at a time.</p> + +<p>"Do you mind going now, Eleanor?" asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> Lily of her sister, as the +crowd surged back to the ballroom. Eleanor looked rather blank at the +thought of missing the after-supper dance, and such an after-supper +dance; no mamma to get sleepy on the platform; no old James waiting out +in the cold to lay up rheumatism for the future and to look respectfully +reproachful at "Miss Ellis"; no horses whose wrongs might excite papa's +wrath; nothing but that wretched impersonal slave, "a man from the +livery stable" and his automatic beasts. But the Careys were a very +amiable family, the one who spoke first generally getting her own way. +The after-supper dance at the Racket Club german was rather a falling +off from the brilliancy at the commencement, as Arend Van Voorst left +after putting his partner into her carriage, and Julian Jervis and +others of the men thought it the thing to follow his example.</p> + +<p>Two days after the german, "Richards's Pond," set in snowy shores, was +hard and blue as steel under a cloudless sky, while a delicious breath +of spring in the air gave warning that this was but for a day. The rare +union of perfect comfort and the fascination that comes of transient +pleasure irresistibly called out the skaters, and "everybody" was there; +that is, about fifty young men and women were disporting themselves on +the pond, and one or two ladies stood on the shore looking on. Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +Morgan, who was always willing to chaperon any number of girls to any +amusement, stood warmly wrapped up in her fur-lined cloak and +snow-boots, talking to a Mrs. Rhodes, a mild little new-comer in +Brookline, who had come with her girls, who did not know many people, +and whom she now had the satisfaction of seeing happily mingled with the +proper "set"; for Eleanor Carey, who had good-naturedly asked them to +come, had introduced them to some of the extra young men, of whom there +were plenty; and that there might be no lack of excitement, Mr. Van +Voorst and Miss Lily Carey were to be seen skating together, with hardly +a word or a look for anyone else—a sight worth seeing.</p> + +<p>No record exists of the skating of the goddess Diana, but had she +skated, Lily might have served as her model. Just so might she have +swept over the ice with mazy motion, ever and ever throwing herself off +her balance, just as surely to regain it. As for Arend Van Voorst, he +skated like Harold Hardrada, of whose performances in that line we have +not been left in ignorance. "It must be his Dutch blood," commented Miss +Morgan.</p> + +<p>Ada Thorne, meanwhile, was skating contentedly enough under the escort +of the lion second in degree—Prescott Avery, just returned from his +journey round the world,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> about which he had written a magazine article, +and was understood to be projecting a book. His thin but well-preserved +flaxen locks, whitey-brown moustache, and little piping voice were +unchanged by tropic heats or Alpine snows, but he had gained in +consequence and, though mild and unassuming, felt it. He had always been +in the habit of entertaining his fair friends with a number of pretty +tales drawn from his varied social experiences, and had acquired a fresh +stock of very exciting ones in his travels. But his present hearer's +attention was wandering, and her smiles unmeaning, and in the very midst +of a most interesting narrative about his encounter with an angry llama, +she put an aimless question that showed utter ignorance whether it took +place in China or Peru. Prescott, always amiable, gulped down his +mortification with the aid of a cough, and then followed the lady's gaze +to where the distant flash of a scarlet toque might be seen through the +thin, leafless bushes on a low spur of land.</p> + +<p>"That is Lily Carey, is it not?" he asked. "How very handsome she is +looking to-day! She has grown even more beautiful than when I went away. +By-the-by, is that the gentleman she is engaged to?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no! Why, that is Arend Van Voorst! Don't you know him? She is +engaged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> to a Mr. Ponsonby, an English settler in South Australia."</p> + +<p>"I see now that it is Mr. Van Voorst, whom I met several times before I +left," said Prescott, with unfailing amiability even under a snubbing. +Then, cheered by the prospect of again taking the superior position, he +continued in an impressive tone: "But it is not astonishing that I +should have taken him for Mr. Ponsonby. I believe I had the pleasure of +meeting that gentleman in Melbourne when I was in Australia, and the +resemblance is striking, especially at a little distance."</p> + +<p>"Did you, indeed?" asked Ada, inwardly burning with excitement, but +outwardly nonchalant. The remarkable extent of Miss Thorne's knowledge +of everyone's affairs was not gained by direct questioning, which she +had found defeated its own object. "It is rather odd you should have +happened to meet him in Melbourne, for he very seldom goes there, and +lives on a ranch in quite another part of Australia."</p> + +<p>"But I did meet him," replied Prescott. "He had come to Melbourne on +business, and I met him at a club dinner—a tall, handsome, light-haired +man. He sat opposite to me and we did not happen to be introduced, but I +am certain the name was Ponsonby. He took every opportunity of paying me +attention,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> and said something very nice about American ladies, which +made me feel sure he must have been here. Of course I did not know of +Miss Carey's engagement, or I should certainly have made his +acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"The engagement was not out then, and of course he could not speak of +it. Now I think of it, Mr. Van Voorst does really look a great deal like +Mr. Ponsonby's photograph."</p> + +<p>"I will speak of it to Miss Carey when I get an opportunity," said +Prescott, delighted. "The experiences one has on a long journey are +singular, Miss Thorne. Now as I was telling you——"</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the whole crowd were gathering round Miss Morgan, who +made a kind of nucleus for those with homeward intentions, when Mr. +Avery and Miss Thorne came in the most accidental way right against Mr. +Van Voorst and Miss Carey. By what means half the crowd already knew +what was in the wind, and the other half knew that something was, we may +not inquire. It was not in human nature not to look and listen as the +four exchanged proper greetings.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Avery, Lily, has been telling me that he had the pleasure of +meeting Mr. Ponsonby in Melbourne," said Ada, "and thought you would be +glad to hear about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said Lily, quietly, "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> have had letters written since, +of course. You were not in Melbourne very lately, Mr. Avery?"</p> + +<p>"Last summer—winter, I should say. You know, Miss Carey, it is so +queer, it is winter there when it is summer here—it is very hard to +realise it. But it is always agreeable to meet those who have really +seen one's absent friends, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ponsonby was looking very well and in very good spirits. I fancied +he showed a great interest in American matters, which I could not +account for. I wish I had known why, that I might have congratulated +him. I hope you will tell him so."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Lily again. She spoke with ease and readiness, but her +beautiful colour had faded, and there was a frightened look in her eyes, +as of someone who sees a ghost invisible to the rest of the company.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Avery was struck with Mr. Ponsonby's resemblance to you, Mr. Van +Voorst," said Ada; "you cannot be related, can you?"</p> + +<p>"Come," said Aunt Sophia, suddenly, "what is the use of standing here? I +am tired of it, for one, and I am going to the Ripley's to get a little +warmth into my bones, and all who are going to the Wilson's to-night had +better come too. Emmie, you and Bessie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> <i>must</i>, Lily, you and Susie and +Eleanor <i>had better</i>—you see, Mr. Van Voorst, how nice are the +gradations of my chaperonage."</p> + +<p>"Let me help you up the bank, Miss Morgan," said Arend; "it is steep +here."</p> + +<p>"Thank you—come, Mrs. Rhodes. Mrs. Ripley isn't at home, but we shall +find hot bouillon and bread and butter."</p> + +<p>"I had better not, thank you. I don't know Mrs. Ripley," stammered, with +chattering teeth, poor Mrs. Rhodes, shivering in her tight jacket and +thin boots.</p> + +<p>"You need not know her if you do come, as she is out," said Miss Morgan, +coolly; "and if you don't, you certainly won't, as you will most likely +die of pneumonia. Now Fanny may think you a fool for doing so, if you +like, but I'm not going to have her call me a brute for letting you. So +come before we freeze."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rhodes meekly followed her energetic companion, both gallantly +assisted up the bank by Arend Van Voorst, who was devoted in his +attentions till they reached the house. He never looked towards Lily, +who, pale and quiet, walked behind with Emmeline Freeman, and as soon as +she entered the Ripley drawing-room ensconced herself, as in a nook of +refuge, behind the table with the big silver bowl, and ladled out the +bouillon with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> trembling hand. The young men bustled about with the +cups, but Arend only took two for the older ladies, and went near her no +more.</p> + +<p>Not a Ripley was there, though it was reported that Tom had been seen on +the ice that morning and told them all to come in, of course. No one +seemed to heed their absence; Miss Morgan pulled Mrs. Ripley's own +blotting-book towards her and scribbled a letter to her friend; Eleanor +Carey threw open the piano, and college songs resounded. Mrs. Rhodes was +lost in wonder as she shyly sipped her soup, rather frightened at Mr. +Van Voorst's attentions. How could Mrs. Ripley ever manage to make her +cook send up hot soup at such an unheard-of hour? And could it be the +"thing" to have one's drawing-room in "such a clutter"? She tried to +take note of all the things lying about, unconscious that Miss Morgan +was noting <i>her</i> down in her letter. Then came the rapid throwing on of +wraps, rushing to the station, and a laughing, pell-mell boarding of the +train. Mr. Van Voorst had disappeared, and Ada Thorne said he was going +to walk down to Brookline and take the next train from there—he was +going to New York on the night train and wanted a walk first. No one +else had anything to say in the matter, certainly not Lily, who +continued to keep near Miss Morgan and sat between her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> and the window, +silent all the while. As the train neared the first station, she jumped +up suddenly and hastened toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lily, what are you about?" "Lily, come back!" "Lily, this is the +wrong station!" resounded after her; but as no one was quick enough to +follow her, she was seen as the train moved on, walking off alone, with +the same scared look on her face.</p> + +<p>"There is something very odd about that girl," said Miss Morgan, as soon +as she was with her nieces on their homeward path.</p> + +<p>"It is only that she feels a little overcome," said Lily's staunch +admirer. "You know what Prescott Avery said about Mr. Van Voorst looking +like Mr. Ponsonby, and I'm sure he does. Don't you think him very like +his photograph?"</p> + +<p>"There is a kind of general likeness, but I must say of the two Arend +Van Voorst looks better fitted to fight his way in the bush, while Mr. +Ponsonby might spend his ten millions, if he had them, pleasantly +enough. Perhaps the idea is what has 'overcome' Lily, as you say."</p> + +<p>"Now, auntie, I am sure the resemblance might make her feel badly. She +has not seen Mr. Ponsonby for so long, and that attracted her to Mr. Van +Voorst; and it was so unkind of people to say all the hateful things +they did at the ball."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I must say myself, that she rather overdoes the part of Mrs. Gummidge. +It looks as if there was something more in it than thinking of the 'old +un.' If she really is so afraid of Mr. Ponsonby, he must look more like +Arend Van Voorst than his picture does. Well—we shall see."</p> + +<p>Late that afternoon Arend Van Voorst walked up Walnut Street westward, +drawn, as so many have been, by the red sunset glow that struck across +the lake beyond, through the serried ranks of black tree trunks, down +the long vista under the arching elms. Straight toward the blazing gate +he walked, but when he came to where the road parted, leaving the +brightness high and inaccessible above high banks of pure new snow that +looked dark against it, and dipping down right and left into valleys +where the shade of trees, even in winter, was thick and dark, he paused +a moment and then struck into the right hand road, the one that did not +lead toward the Careys' house. It was not till two or three hours later +that he approached it from the other side, warm with walking, and having +apparently walked off his hesitation, for he did not even slacken his +pace as he passed up the drive, though he looked the house, the place, +and the whole surroundings over with attentive carefulness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Careys lived in a fascinating house, of no particular style, the +result of perpetual additions to the original and now very old nucleus. +As Mr. Carey's father had bought it fifty years ago, and as his +progenitors for some time further back had inhabited a much humbler +dwelling, now vanished, in the same town, it was called, as such things +go in America, their "ancestral home." It was the despair of architects +and decorators, who were always being adjured to "get an effect +something like the Carey house." The component elements were simple +enough, and the principal one was the habit of the Carey family always +to buy everything they wanted and never to buy anything they did not +want. If Mr. and Mrs. Carey took a fancy to a rug, or a chair, or a +picture, or a book, they bought it then and there, but they would go on +for years without new stair-carpets or drawing-room curtains—partly +because they never had time to go and choose them, partly because it was +such a stupid way to spend money; it was easier to keep the old ones, or +use something for a substitute that no one had ever thought of before, +and everybody was crazy to have afterwards.</p> + +<p>How much of all this Arend Van Voorst took in I cannot tell, but he +looked about him with the same curiosity after the house door had opened +and he was in the hall, and then as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> the parlour door opened, and he saw +Lily rising from her low chair, before the fire afar off at the end of +the long low room, a tall white figure standing out in pure, cool +darkness against the blaze, like the snow-banks against the sunset. He +did not know whether he wanted or not to see her alone, but on one point +he was anxious—he wanted to know whether he was to be alone with her or +not. The room was crowded with objects of every kind; two or three dogs +and cats languidly raised their heads from the sofas and ottomans as he +passed, and for aught he knew two or three children might be in the +crowd. Lily had the advantage of him; she knew very well that her mother +had driven into town with the other girls to the Wilsons' "small and +early"; that the younger children had been out skating all the afternoon +and had gone to bed; that the boys were out skating now and would not be +home for hours yet; and that her father, shut into his study with the +New York stock list, was as safe out of the way as if he had been +studying hieroglyphics at the bottom of the Grand Pyramid. So she was +almost too unconcerned in manner as she held out her hand and said, +"Good evening."</p> + +<p>He took the offered hand absently, still looking round the room, and as +he took in its empty condition, gave a sigh of relief. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> sat down, +with a very slight motion toward a chair on the other side of the fire. +He obeyed mechanically, his eyes now fixed on her. If she was lovely in +her "old black," how much more was she in her "old white," put on for +the strictest home retirement. It was a much washed affair, very +yellowish and shrunken, and clinging to every line of her tall figure, +grand in its youthful promise. She had lost her colour, a rare thing for +her, and she had accentuated the effect of her pale cheeks and dark +eyelashes with a great spray of yellow roses in the bosom of her gown.</p> + +<p>"I thought you had gone to New York," she said, trying to speak lightly.</p> + +<p>"No," slowly; "I could not go without coming here first. I must see you +once at your own home." Then with an eager thrill in his voice, "He has +never been here, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Lily; "he was never here."</p> + +<p>"I have come the first, then; let him come when he wants to; I shall not +come again, to see him and you together."</p> + +<p>Both sat silently looking into the fire for a few moments, which the +clock seemed to mark off with maddening rapidity. Then Lily said in a +low tone, but so clearly that it could have been heard all over the +room, "If you do not wish to see him, he need never come at all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<p>"For God's sake, Miss Carey!" burst out Arend, "show a little feeling in +this matter. I don't ask you to feel for me. I knew what I was about +from the first, and I took the risk. But show a little, feign a little, +if you must, for him. You know I love you. If your Mr. Ponsonby were +here to fight his own battles for himself, I would go in for a fair +fight with him, and give and ask no quarter. But—but—he is far away +and alone, keeping faith with you for years. If he has no claim on you, +he has one on me, and I'll not forget it."</p> + +<p>He paused, but Lily was silent. She looked wistful, yet afraid to speak. +Something of the same strangely frightened look was in her eyes that had +been there that afternoon. Arend, whose emotion had reached the stage +when the sound of one's own voice is a sedative, went on more calmly:</p> + +<p>"And don't think I make so much of a sacrifice. I am sure now you never +loved or could have loved me. If you had, there would have been some +struggle, some pleading of old remembrances. Your very feeling for me +would have roused some pity, at least, for him. He has your first +promise; I do not ask you to break it. You can give him all you have to +give to anyone, and perhaps he may be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"You need not trouble yourself about Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> Ponsonby," said Lily, now cold +and calm, "as no such person exists."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed her hearer, in bewildered astonishment. Wild visions +of the luckless Ponsonby, having heard by clairvoyance, or submarine +cable, of his own pretensions, and having forthwith taken himself out of +the way by pistol or poison, floated through his brain, and he went on +in an awe-struck tone, "Is he—is he dead?"</p> + +<p>"He never lived; Mr. Ponsonby, from first to last, is a pure piece of +fiction. Oh, you need not look so amazed; I am not out of my senses, I +assure you. Ask my father, ask my mother—they will tell you the same. +And now, stop! Once for all, just once! You must hear what I have to +say. I shall never ask you to hear me again, and you probably will never +want to."</p> + +<p>He looked blankly at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she broke out suddenly, "you do not know—how should you?—what it +is to be a girl! to sit and smile and look pleasant while your life is +being settled for you, and to see some man or other doing his best to +make an utter snarl of it, while you must wait ready with your 'If you +please,' when he chooses to ask you to dance with him or marry him. And +to be a pretty girl is ten times worse. Everyone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> had settled ever since +I was seventeen that I was to marry Jack Allston. Both his family and my +family took it as a matter of course, and liked it well enough, as one +likes matters of course. I liked it well enough myself. I cannot say now +that I was ever in love with Jack Allston, but he seemed bound up in me, +and I was very fond of him, and thought I should be still more so when +we were once engaged. All the girls in my set expected to marry or be +called social failures, and where was I ever to find a better match in +every way than Jack? If I had refused him everyone would have thought +that I was mad. I had not the least idea of doing so, but meanwhile I +was in no hurry to be married. I thought it would be nicer to wait and +have a little pleasure, and I did have a great deal, till I was +eighteen, then till I was nineteen, and so on——"</p> + +<p>She stopped for a moment, for her voice was trembling, but with an +effort recovered herself and went on more firmly:</p> + +<p>"Just as people began to look and talk, and wonder why we were so slow, +and why it did not come out, and just as I began to think that I had had +enough of society, and that perhaps I ought to be willing to settle +down, I began to feel, too, that my power over him was going, gone! The +strings I had always played upon so easily were broken, and though I ran +over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> them in the old way, I could not win a sound. I hardly had time to +feel more than puzzled and frightened, when his engagement came out, and +it was all over. But there! it was the kindest way he could have done +it. I hate to think of some of the things I did and said to try if he +had indeed ceased to care for me; but they were not <i>much</i>, and if I had +had time I might have done more and worse. I was struck dumb with +surprise like everybody else. My father and mother were hurt and +anxious, but it was easy to reassure them, and without deception. I +could tell them the truth, but not the whole truth. I did not suffer +from what they supposed. My heart was not broken, or even seriously +hurt, but oh! how much I wished at times that it had been! Had I really +loved and been forsaken, I could have sat down by the wayside and asked +the whole world for pity, without a thought of shame. But for what had I +to ask pity? I was like a rider who had been thrown and broken no bones, +in so ridiculous a way that he excites no sympathy. What if he is +battered and bruised? If he complains, people only laugh. I held my +tongue when my raw places were hit. I had the pleasure of hearing that +Julia Noble had been saying—" and here Lily put on Mrs. Allston's +manner to perfection—"'I hope poor Miss Carey was not disappointed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +Jack has, I fear, been paying her more attention than he ought; but it +was only to divert comment from me; dear Jack has so much delicacy of +feeling where I am concerned!'—No, don't say anything; let me have +done, I will not take long. I could not get away from it all, and what +was I to do? To go on in society and play the same game over with some +one else was unendurable; I was getting past the age for that. Susan was +out and Eleanor coming out, and I felt I ought to have taken myself out +of their way, in the proper fashion. To take up art or philanthropy was +not in my line. The girls I knew were not brought up with those ideas +and didn't take to them unless they started with being odd, or ugly, or +would own up to a disappointment. My place in the world had suited me to +perfection, and now it was hateful and no other was offered me.</p> + +<p>"It was just at this time that the devil—to speak plainly, as I told +you I was going to—put the idea of poor Mr. Ponsonby into my head. An +engaged girl is always excused from everything else. My lover was not +here to take up my time, and as I could postpone my wedding indefinitely +whenever I pleased, my preparations need not be hurried. I dropped +society and all the hateful going out, and had delicious evenings at +home with papa when I was supposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> to be writing my long letters to +Australia. I thought I could drop it whenever I liked. I did not know +what I was doing."</p> + +<p>"You? Perhaps not!" exclaimed Arend, with an exasperating air of +superior age; "but your father and mother—what in the name of common +sense were they thinking about to allow all this?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must not think they liked it; they didn't. To tell you all the +truth, I don't think they half-understood it at first. I did not tell +them until I had dropped a hint of it elsewhere, and I suppose they +thought I had only given a vague glimpse of a possible future lover +somewhere in the distance. Poor dears! things have changed since they +were young, and they don't realise that if a man speaks to a girl it is +in the newspapers the next day. I had not known what I was doing. I +really have not told as many lies as you might think. Full half that you +have heard about Mr. Ponsonby never came from me at all. You don't know +how reports can grow, especially when Ada Thorne has the lead in them. +Not that she exactly invents things, but a hint from me, and some I +never meant, would come back all clothed in circumstance. I could not +wear my old pink sash to save my others without hearing that that +tea-rose tint was Mr. Ponsonby's favourite colour. Ponsonby grew out of +my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> hands as this went on; and really the more he outgrew me the better +I liked him, and indeed I ended by being rather in love with him. He had +to have so many misfortunes, too, and that was a link between us."</p> + +<p>"But," said her hearer, suddenly, "did not Prescott Avery meet him at +Melbourne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you knew Prescott, you would know that he meets everybody. If it +had been a Mr. Percival of Java, instead of Ponsonby of Australia, he +would have remembered him or something about him. Still, that was a +dreadful moment. I felt like Frankenstein when his creature stalks out +alive. Poor Mr. Ponsonby! I shall send him his <i>coup-de-grâce</i> by the +next Australian mail. People will say that I did it in the hope of +catching you, and have failed. Let them—I deserve it. And now, Mr. Van +Voorst, please to go. I have humiliated myself before you enough. I said +I would tell you the truth, and you have heard it all. If you must +despise me, have pity and don't show it."</p> + +<p>Lily's voice, so clear at first, had grown hoarse, and her cheeks were +burning in a way that caused her physical pain. She rose to her feet and +stood leaning on the back of her chair and looking at the floor.</p> + +<p>"Go! and without a word? Do you think I have nothing to say? Sit +down!"—as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> made some little motion to go. "I have heard you, and +now you must hear me."</p> + +<p>Lily sank unresistingly into her chair, while he went on, "You say girls +have a hard time; so they do—I have always been sorry for them. But +don't you suppose men have troubles of their own? You say a pretty girl +has the worst of it. How much better off is the man, who, according to +the common talk, has only to 'pick and choose'; who walks along the row +of pretty faces to find a partner for the dance or for life, as it +happens—it is much the same. The blue angel is the prettiest and the +pink the wittiest; very likely he takes the yellow one, who is neither, +while in the corner sits the white one, who would have suited him best, +and whom he hardly saw at all. If he thinks he is satisfied, it is just +as well. I was not unduly vain nor unduly humble. I knew my wealth was +the first thing about me in most people's minds, but I was not a +monster, and a girl might like me well enough without it. A woman is not +often forced into marriage in this country. I had no notions of +disguising myself, or educating a child to marry, as men have done, to +be loved for themselves alone. What is a man's self? My wealth, my place +in the world were part of me. I was born with them. I should probably +find some nice girl who appreciated them and liked me well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> enough, and +I felt that I ought to give some such one the chance—and yet—and +yet—I wanted something more.</p> + +<p>"In this state of mind I met you at the ball. Very likely if I had seen +you among the other girls, I might not have given you more than a +passing glance; but I thought you were married, and the thrill of +disappointment had as much pleasure as pain, for I felt I could have +loved. But you were not married, only engaged. What's an engagement? It +may mean everything or nothing. For the life of me I could not help +trying how much it meant to you. What must the man be, I thought, as I +sat by you on the stairs, whom this girl loves? He should be a hero, and +yet, as such things go, he's just as likely to be a noodle. You +laughed—I could have sworn you knew what I was thinking."</p> + +<p>"Yes! I remember. I was thinking how nicely you would do for a model for +my Ponsonby," Lily said. Their eyes met for a moment with a swift flash +of intelligence, but the light in hers was quenched with hot, unshed +tears.</p> + +<p>"No laugh ever sounded more fancy free! I felt as if you challenged me; +and if he had been here I would have taken up the challenge—he or I, +once for all. But he was alone and far away, and I could not take his +place. Why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> did I meet you on the pond, then? why did I come here +to-night? Because I wanted to see if I could not go a little further +with you. I wanted something to remember, a look, a tone, a word, that +ought not to have been given to any man but your promised husband; +something I could not have asked if I had hoped to be your husband. My +magnanimity toward Ponsonby, you see, did not go the length of behaving +to his future wife with the respect I would show my own."</p> + +<p>"You have shown how much you despise me," said Lily, springing to her +feet, her hot tears dried with hotter anger, but her face white again. +"That might have been spared me. I suppose you think I deserve it. Very +well, I do, and you need not stay to argue the matter. Go!"</p> + +<p>"Go! Why I should be a fool to go now, and you would be—well, we will +call it mistaken—to let me. After we have got as far as we have, it +would be absurd to suppose we can go back again. We know each other now +better than nine tenths of the couples who have been married a year. I +don't ask you to say you love me now; I am very sure you can, and I know +I can love you—infinitely——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but—but you said you would not take his place—Mr. Ponsonby's. Can +you let everyone think you capable of such an act of meanness?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> And if +you could not respect me as your wife, how can you expect others to? Can +we appear to act in a way to deserve contempt without despising each +other?"</p> + +<p>"There will be a good deal that is unpleasant about it, no doubt; but +everyone's life has some unpleasantness. It would be worse to let a +dream, even a dream of honor, come between us and our future. You made a +mistake and underestimated its consequences, but it would be foolish to +lose the substance of happiness because we have lost the shadow. We will +live it down together and be glad it is no worse."</p> + +<p>"But I have been so wrong, so very wrong—I have too many faults ever to +make anyone happy."</p> + +<p>"Of course you have faults, but I know the worst of them and can put up +with them. I have plenty of my own which you may be finding out by this +time. I am very domineering—you will have to promise to obey me, and I +shall keep you to it; and then I can, under provocation, be furiously +jealous."</p> + +<p>"You are not jealous of Jack Allston?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Jealous of old Jack? Oh, no! I shall keep my jealousy for poor Mr. +Ponsonby."</p> + +<p>Society had been so often agitated by Lily Carey's affairs that it took +with comparative<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> coolness the tidings that she was to be married to +Arend Van Voorst in six weeks. Miss Morgan said she supposed Lily was +tired of "engagements," and wanted to be married this time. Her niece +Emmeline shed tears over "poor Mr. Ponsonby," and refused to act as +bridesmaid at his rival's nuptials; and in spite of her aunt's scoldings +and Lily's entreaties, and all the temptations of the bridesmaids' pearl +"lily" brooches and nosegays of Easter lilies, arranged a visit to her +cousins in Philadelphia to avoid being present. Miss Thorne had no such +scruples, and it is to her the world owes a lively account of the +wedding; how it was fixed at so early a date lest "poor Mr. Ponsonby" +should hurry over to forbid the banns, and how terribly nervous Lily +seemed lest he might, in spite of the absolute impossibility, and though +Ponsonby, true gentleman to the last, never troubled her then or after.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Van Voorst, I should say!" exclaimed Mrs. Jack Allston. "I am +sure he is the one to be pitied. But do tell me all the presents that +have come in, for Jack says that I must give them something handsome +after such a present as he gave me when we were married."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Voorst received the tidings of her son's approaching marriage +rather doubtfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> "Yes—the Careys were a very nice family; she knew +Mrs. Carey was an Arlington, and her mother a Berkeley, and his +mother—but—Miss Carey was very handsome, she had heard—with the +Berkeley style of beauty and the Arlington manner, but—but—she did not +mind their being Unitarians, for many of the very best people were, in +Boston, but—but—but—indeed, my dear Arend, I have heard a good deal +about her that I do not altogether like. I hope it may not be +true—about her keeping Jack Allston hanging on for years, as +<i>pis-aller</i> to that young Englishman she was engaged to all the +while—and finally throwing him over—and now she has thrown over this +Mr. Ponsonby too!"</p> + +<p>"Will you do just one thing for me, dear mother," asked her son; "will +you forget all you have <i>heard</i> about Lily, and judge her by what you +<i>see</i>?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Voorst had never refused Arend anything in his life, and could +not now. By what magic Lily, in their very first interview, won over the +good lady is not known, but afterwards no mother-in-law's heart could +have withstood the splendid son and heir with which she enriched the Van +Voorst line. The young Van Voorsts were allowed by all their friends to +be much happier than they deserved to be. Long after the gossip over +their marriage had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> ceased, and it was an old story even to them, Arend +was still in love with his wife. Lily was interesting; she had that +quality or combination of qualities, impossible to analyse, which wins +love where beauty fails, and keeps it when goodness tires. Her own +happiness was more simple in its elements. She was better off than most +women, and knew it—the last, the crowning gift, so often lacking to the +fortunate of earth. She thought her husband much too good for her, +though she never told him so. Nay, sometimes when she was a little +fretted by his exacting disposition, for Arend was a strict martinet in +all social and household matters and, as he had said, would be minded, +she would sometimes more or less jestingly tell him that perhaps after +all she had made a mistake in not keeping faith with "poor Mr. +Ponsonby."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/ill_011.jpg" width="200" height="112" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_012.jpg" width="400" height="96" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="MODERN_VENGEANCE" id="MODERN_VENGEANCE"></a>MODERN VENGEANCE</h2> + +<p>"Well, Lucy, I must say I never saw anything go off more delightfully!"</p> + +<p>"It would hardly fail to, with such interesting people," said Mrs. Henry +Wilson.</p> + +<p>"Why, every one said they thought it would be most difficult to manage; +a sort of half-public thing, you know, to entertain those delegates or +whatever they call them; they said it was well you had it, for no one +else could possibly have made it go so well."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt most of them could, if they had all the help I +had—from you, especially! I only wish I could have made it a dinner, +instead of a lunch; but Henry is so very busy, just now, and I dared not +attempt a dinner without him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear!" said her mother-in-law, "a doctor's time is always so +occupied; they all know that. And dear Henry, of course, is more +occupied than most."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is as well," said the younger lady, "that they could come by +daylight, as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> is so far out of town; Medford is pretty, even in +winter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! so they all said. Lady Bayswater thinks it is the prettiest +suburb of Boston she has yet seen; and she admired the house, too, and +you, and everything. 'Mrs. Wilson,' she said to me, 'your charming +daughter-in-law is the prettiest American woman I have seen yet.'" And +Mrs. Wilson, senior, a little elderly woman, to whom even her rich +mourning dress could not impart dignity, jerked her heavy black +Astrachan cape upon her shoulders, and tied its wide ribbons in a +fluttering, one-sided way.</p> + +<p>"She is very kind."</p> + +<p>"And they all said so many things—I can't remember them."</p> + +<p>"I am glad if they were pleased," said Mrs. Henry Wilson, rousing +herself; "to tell the truth, I have not been able to think much of the +lunch, or how it went off."</p> + +<p>"Why, dear Henry is well, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, as well as usual, but a good deal troubled about——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the poor little Talbot boy! how is he?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. Henry, of course, gives no opinion; but I am afraid it +is a very serious case. Membranous croup always is alarming, you know."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed! sad—very sad; and their only boy, too, now. To be sure, +if any one can save him, dear Henry can; but then, what with losing the +other, and so much sickness as they have had, and Mabel expecting again, +I really don't see how they are to get along," said Mrs. Wilson, fussing +with her pocket handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"It is very hard," assented her daughter-in-law, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"I do pity poor Eugene. What can a man do? I saw all those children +paddling in the wet snow only last week; very likely that brought it on. +If I had let mine do so when they were little, I should have expected +them to have croup, and diphtheria, and everything else. I would not +mention it to any one but you, but I do think Mabel has always been very +careless of her children."</p> + +<p>"Poor Mabel!" said Mrs. Henry Wilson, with a look of angelic compassion. +"Remember how many cares and troubles she has had, and all her own +ill-health. We all make mistakes sometimes in the care of our children, +with the very best intentions. I let Harry play out in that very snow. I +feared then that you might not approve; but you were not here, and he +was so eager!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, my dear, you always look after Harry so well! Those Talbot +children had no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> rubbers on; and then, Harry is so much stronger than +his father was. I do think your management most successful. I only wish +poor Eugene had a wife like you." And as her hearer was silent: "I must +go. Darling Harry is still at gymnasium, isn't he? and I suppose it is +no use waiting for dear Henry, now. My love to them both; and do come +round when you can, dear, won't you?" And after a little more fuss in +looking for her muff and letting down her veil, and a prolonged series +of embraces of her daughter-in-law, she departed.</p> + +<p>Young Mrs. Wilson, left alone, sat down in front of a glowing fire to +review her day; but earlier memories appealed so much more powerfully, +that in another moment she was reviewing her whole past life—an +indulgence she rarely allowed herself.</p> + +<p>If the poet in the country churchyard was struck with the thought of +greatness that had perished unknown for lack of opportunity, how doubly +he might have pointed his moral with renown missed by being of the wrong +sex. In clear perception of her ends, and resistless pursuit of them, +Lucy Morton had not been inferior in her sphere to Napoleon in his; and +if, after all, she was not so clever as she thought herself, why, +neither was he. To begin with, she was born in a <i>cul-de-sac</i> ending at +a cow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> pasture. But what is that to genius? "This lane," she thought, +"shall never hem me in"; and from earliest childhood she struggled to +grow out of it, like a creeper out of a hole, catching at every aid.</p> + +<p>She was early left an orphan, and lived with her grandfather, a +well-to-do retired grocer, and her grandmother, and a maiden aunt. There +was one other house in the lane, and in it lived a great-aunt, widow of +the grocer's brother and partner, and a maiden first cousin once +removed. They were a contented family, and liked the seclusion of their +place of abode, which was clean and quiet, and where the old gentleman +could prune his trees, and prick out his lettuces unobserved. He read +the daily paper, and took a nap after his early dinner. The women made +their own clothes, and dusted their parlours, and washed their dishes, +and as the <i>cul-de-sac</i> was loathed of servants, they often had the +opportunity of doing all their own work, which they found a pleasant +excitement, and in their secret souls preferred. They belonged to the +Unitarian church, which marked them as slightly superior to the reigning +grocer, who went to the "Orthodox meeting," but did not give them the +social intercourse they would have found in churches of inferior +pretensions. The elite of Medford, in those early days, was chiefly +Unitarian, and it respected the Mortons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> who gave generously of their +time and money whenever they were asked. Its men spoke highly of "old +Morton," and were civil to him at town and parish meetings; and its +women would bow pleasantly to his female relatives after service and +speak to them at sewing circles; and would inquire after the rest of the +family when they could remember who they were. More, the Mortons did not +ask or wish. They knew enough people on whom to make formal calls, gave +or went to about six tea-parties a year, and exchanged visits with +cousins who lived in Braintree.</p> + +<p>Lucy was sent to the public school, and taught sewing and housework at +home. She proved an apt pupil at both, and showed no discontent with her +daily routine. She was early allowed to sit up to tea, even when company +came; and had she asked to bring home any little girl in her school to +play with her, her grandmother would not have objected. But she did not +ask, nor was she ever seen with her schoolmates in the shady, rural +Medford roads.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she might have pined for companions of her own age, but that +fortune had provided her with some near by. At the entrance of the lane +where she lived, but fronting on a wider thoroughfare, was the house of +Mrs. Wilson, a widow of good means and family,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> who filled less than her +proper space among her own connections, for she went out but little, +being engrossed with the care and education of her two delicate little +boys to a degree which rendered her fatiguing as a companion—the +poorness of their physical constitutions, and the excellence of their +moral natures, being her one unending theme. They were not strong enough +for the most private of schools, and were too good to be exposed to its +temptations, and always had a governess at home.</p> + +<p>"Henny" and "Cocky" Wilson—their names were Henry and Cockburn, and +their light red hair, combed into scanty crests on top of their heads, +had suggested these soubriquets—were the amusement of their mother's +contemporaries, and the scorn of their own. A hundred tales were told of +them: as, how when Mrs. Wilson first came home from abroad, where she +had lived long after her husband's death there, she brought her boys to +Sunday-school, with the audible request to the superintendent that as +they were such good little children, they might, if possible, be placed +among those of similar, if not equal, qualities; thereby provoking the +whole school for the next month to a riotous behaviour which poor Mr. +Milliken found it difficult to subdue.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilson's friends made some efforts to induce their boys to be +friendly with hers, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> the result that one July evening, Eugene +Talbot, a bright-eyed, curly-haired little dare-devil, who led the +revels, patronisingly invited them to join a swimming party after dark +in the reservoir which supplied Medford with water—one of those +illegal, delicious sprees which to look back on stirs the blood of age. +Henny and Cocky gave no answer till they had gone, as in duty bound, to +consult their mother, who replied: "My dears, I think this would be a +very uncomfortable amusement. Should you not enjoy much more taking a +bath in our own bathroom, with plenty of soap and hot-water?" It +required a great effort of self-control on Eugene's part not to knock +the heads of the two together when they reported their mother's opinion +to him <i>verbatim</i>; but he had the feeling that it would be as mean to +hit one of the Wilsons as to hit a girl, and he only sent them to +Coventry, where they grew up, apparently careless. They were content at +home, and they could now and then play with Lucy Morton, who had +contrived to make their acquaintance through the garden fence, and who, +though three years younger than Cocky, the youngest, was quite as +advanced in every way.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Richard Reed, the social leader of the town, tired of taking +her children into Boston to Papanti's dancing-class, prevailed upon the +great man to come out and open one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> in Medford, she could not be +over-particular in her selection of applicants, the requisite number +being hard to make up; but when she opened a note signed, "Sarah C. +Morton," asking admission for the writer's granddaughter, she paused +doubtfully. "It is a queerly written note, but it looks like a lady's +somehow," she said, consulting her privy council.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is old Mrs. Morton, who comes to our church, don't you know? +They are very respectable, quiet people. I don't believe there's any +harm in the little girl," said adviser number one.</p> + +<p>"She is a pretty, well-behaved child. I have noticed her at +Sunday-school," added councillor number two.</p> + +<p>"She is a sweet little thing," said Mrs. Wilson, who was present, though +not esteemed of any use in the matter. "My dear boys sometimes play with +her, and are so fond of her, and they would not like any little girl who +was not nice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, she can come!" said Mrs. Reed, dashing off a hasty consenting +line, and thinking, "She will do to dance with Henny and Cocky; none of +the other girls will care to, I imagine, and I don't want to hurt the +old lady's feelings. What can have made her think of asking?"</p> + +<p>It will easily be guessed that Miss Lucy had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> been the instigator of +this daring move. She had begun by asking her grandfather, who never +refused her anything, and backed by his sanction had succeeded in +persuading her grandmother, who wrote an occasional letter, but who +hardly knew what a note was, to sit down and write one to Mrs. Reed. So +to the dancing-school she went, alone; for neither grandmother, aunts, +nor cousin ever dreamed of accompanying her. But she felt no fears. She +was a pretty little girl, and took to dancing as a duck to water; but +she did not presume on the popularity these qualities might have won her +with the older boys, but patiently devoted herself to Henny and Cocky +and the younger fry, whom Mr. Papanti was only too glad to consign to +her skilful pilotage. Their mothers approved of her, especially after +she had asked Mrs. Reed, with many blushes, "if she might not sit near +her, when she was not dancing?" "I have to come alone," she added shyly, +"for my dear grandmamma is so old, you know, and my aunt is far from +strong." Both of these women could have done a good day's washing, and +slept soundly for nine hours after it; but of this Mrs. Reed knew +nothing, and pronounced Lucy a charming child, with such sweet manners, +took her home when it rained, and asked her to her next juvenile party.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was an easy step from this to Lucy Morton at one-and-twenty, where +her quick backward glance next lighted, the popular favourite of the +best "set" of girls in Medford, and extending her easy flight beyond +under the drilling chaperonage of their mammas. She pleased all she met +of whatever age or sex, though to more dangerous distinctions she made +no pretensions. She had early learned the great secret of popularity, so +rarely understood at any age, that people do not want to admire +you—they want you to admire them. No one called Lucy Morton a beauty; +but it was wonderful how many beauties were numbered among her intimate +friends, how many compliments they received, what hosts of admirers they +had, and how brilliant, clever, and full of promise were these admirers. +Indeed, after a dance or a talk with Miss Morton, the young men could +not help thinking so themselves.</p> + +<p>As for Lucy, she was early consigned by public opinion to one or other +of the Wilsons. Henny and Cocky had miraculously survived their mother's +coddling and clucking, and had kept alive through college and +professional training, though looking as if it had been a hard struggle. +Henny had, at the period on which his wife was now dwelling, returned +from his medical studies at Vienna, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> Cocky still lingered in Paris +studying architecture.</p> + +<p>There was very little opening for Dr. Henry Wilson in his native town; +but his mother would have been wretched had he gone anywhere else. He +set up an office in her house, and his friends said it was a good thing +he had money enough to live on, for really none of them could be +expected to call him in. He practised among the poor, who seemed to like +him; but of course they could not afford to be particular.</p> + +<p>He would be a very good match for Lucy Morton, if not for any girl of +his own circle. They lived close by each other and had always been +intimate; and she was such a sweet, amiable girl, just the one to put up +with Mrs. Wilson's tiresome ways! If her relations were scarcely up to +the Wilson claims, at least they were quiet and harmless, and would +probably leave her a little money.</p> + +<p>With such reasoning did all the neighbouring matrons allay their +anxieties as to their favourite's future. Their daughters dissented. The +latter had gradually come to perceive that Lucy had no intentions of the +kind. Not one of them but thought her justified in looking higher, and +not one envious or grudging comment was spoken or even thought when they +began to regard her as destined for Eugene<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> Talbot—not even by those, +and they were many, who themselves cherished a budding preference for +Eugene, a flirt in a harmless, careless way. Everyone allowed that his +attentions this time were serious. How naturally, how irresistibly, the +pleasing conviction stole upon Lucy's own heart!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilson, a wife of many years, here sprang to her feet, with her +heart beating hard, and her cheeks flushing scarlet with shame. So would +they flush on her death-bed, if the remembrance of that time came to +disturb her then—the only time when her prudence had for once failed, +the only time when she had trusted any one but herself, when she had +really, truly, been so sure that Eugene Talbot loved her, that she had +let others see she thought so. She had disclaimed, indeed, all knowledge +of his devotion, but she had disclaimed it with a blushing cheek and +conscious smile, like a little—little—oh, <i>what</i> a little fool!</p> + +<p>There was no open wound to her pride to resent. He had never spoken out +plainly, and no mere attentions from an emperor would have won a +premature response from Miss Morton; nor was it possible for her to +betray her preference to anyone else. How she found out, as early and as +surely as she did, that his hour for speaking was never to come, was +marvellous even to herself; but she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> clairvoyant, so to speak, so +fully did she extract from those who surrounded her all they knew, and +much they did not know. Before Eugene's engagement to Mabel Andrews was +a fixed fact, before Mabel herself knew it was to come, she did, and +took her measures accordingly.</p> + +<p>One terrible, long afternoon she spent in her own room behind closed +shutters, seeing even then, in the darkness, Eugene, proud and handsome, +breathing words of love in the Andrews's beautiful blossoming garden +among all the flowers of May, while a glow of rapturous surprise lighted +up Mabel's sweet, impassive face. It might have been some consolation to +another girl to know her own superiority, and to feel sure that Eugene +was marrying the amiable, refined, utterly commonplace Miss Andrews with +the view to the push her highly placed relatives could, and doubtless +would, give him in his business; but the knowledge only added a sting to +Lucy's sufferings. She bore them silently, tasting their full +bitterness, and then left the room, the very little bit of girlishness +in her composition gone forever, but still ready to draw from life the +gratifications proper to maturer years. She could imagine that revenge +might not lose its taste with time, and she had already some faint +conception of the form hers might take.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>She walked down the lane and far enough along the street to turn about +and be overtaken by Dr. Wilson on his way home. Of course he stopped to +speak to her, and then walked a little way up the lane with her; and +when Miss Morton once had Dr. Wilson all to herself in a <i>cul-de-sac</i>, +it was impossible for him to help proposing to her if she were inclined +to have him. Indeed, he was much readier at the business than she had +expected. In an hour both families knew all about it; and the next day +the engagement was "out," to the excitement of their whole world. It was +such a romantic affair—childish attachment—Henry Wilson so deeply in +love, and so hopeless of success, his feelings accidentally betrayed at +last! On these details dilated all Lucy's young friends. They did not +think they could ever have loved him themselves, but they admired her +for doing so. When, some time after, the grander but less interesting +match between the Talbot and Andrews clans was announced, it chiefly +roused excitement as having doubtless been the result of pique on +Eugene's part—an idea to which his subdued appearance gave some colour; +and he was pitied accordingly.</p> + +<p>His wedding was a quiet one, overshadowed by the glories of Lucy's. No +one would have dreamed of her grandparents doing the thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> with such +magnificence; but they were so surprised and pleased, for to them the +Wilson connection was a lofty one; and Mrs. Wilson was so flatteringly +eager and delighted, that Lucy found them pliant to her will. Her +grandfather unhesitatingly put at her disposal a larger sum than his +yearly expenditure had ever amounted to; and her exquisite taste in +using it made her wedding a spectacle to be remembered, and conferring +distinction on everyone who assisted in the humblest capacity, while +still each one of these had the flattering conviction that without his +or her presence the whole thing would have been a failure. The bride of +ten years back could not but recall with approval her own demeanour on +the occasion, when, "as one in a dream, pale and stately she went," the +very personification of feeling too deep to be stirred by the unregarded +trifles of her wedding pomp.</p> + +<p>The tale of the ensuing years she ran briefly over, for it was one of +uncheckered prosperity. Dr. Wilson's reputation had steadily grown. +Hardly a year after his marriage he had successfully performed the +operation of tracheotomy upon a patient almost <i>in articulo mortis</i>; and +although it was only on the ninth child of an Irish labourer, it got +into all the newspapers, and ran the rounds of all circles. It was +wonderful how such cases came in his way after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> that, till no one in +town dreamed of calling in anyone else for a sore throat; the other +physicians being, as Mrs. Henry Wilson was wont to say, "very good +general practitioners, <i>but</i>—" At thirty-five he had an established +fame as a specialist, with an immense consulting practice extending all +over and about Boston, his personal disadvantages forgotten in the +prestige of his marvellous skill, indeed, rather enhancing it.</p> + +<p>He took his successes very indifferently; but his wife showed a loving +pride in them, too simple and too well controlled to excite envy, gently +checking his mother's more outspoken exultation, and backing him up in +his refusal of all solicitations to move into Boston, well knowing his +constitution could never stand a town life. Money was now less of an +object to him than ever. Lucy's grandfather had died in peace and +honour, leaving a much larger estate than any one had dreamed possible. +The lane had been extended into a road, and the cow pasture had been cut +up into building lots. All the Morton property had risen in value, and +all was one day to be Lucy's; and on the very prettiest spot in it she +now lived, in a charming house designed (with her assistance) by her +brother-in-law, that rising young architect, Cockburn Wilson, so +strikingly original, and so delightfully convenient,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> that photographs +and plans of it were circulated in every direction, bringing the +architect more orders than he wanted or needed; for though with not much +more to boast of in the way of looks than his brother, he had made +another amazing stroke of Wilson luck in marrying that great heiress, +Miss Jenny Diman. She was a heavy, shy young person, who had been +educated in foreign convents, and had missed her proper duty of marrying +a foreign nobleman by being called suddenly home to settle her estate. +She had taken a fancy to the clever, amusing Mrs. Wilson, had visited +her, and found the little <i>partie carrée</i> at her pretty house +delightful, she hardly knew why; but it was evident that her hostess's +married life was most successful, and Lucy told her that dear Cockburn +had in him the making of as devoted a husband as dear Henry.</p> + +<p>Dear Cockburn for some time showed no eagerness to exercise his latent +powers; but his delicacy in addressing so great an heiress once +overcome, swelled into heroic proportions, and made the love affairs of +two extremely plain and quiet people into a wildly romantic drama. They +seemed surprised, but well content, when they found themselves settled +in their pretty home, still prettier than Dr. Wilson's, because it +showed yet newer ideas; and Mrs. Cockburn Wilson, who had never known<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +society, developed a taste for it, which her sister-in-law well knew how +to direct.</p> + +<p>Lucy's active mind had just run down the stream of time to the present, +and was boldly projecting itself forward into the future, and the +throbbing pulses her one painful memory had raised were subsiding in the +soothing task of planning the decorations for a dinner party for which +Jenny's invitations were already out. She had just decided that it would +make a good winter effect to fill all Jenny's lovely Benares brass bowls +with red carnations, when her husband entered the room.</p> + +<p>The crest of sandy locks, which had won Dr. Wilson his boyish title, had +thinned and faded now. It was difficult to say of what colour it had +been; and his face was of no colour at all. He had no salient points, +and won attention chiefly by always looking very tired. This evening he +looked doubly so. "Dear Henry, I am so glad!" cried his wife, springing +up to give him an affectionate embrace. "You will have something to +eat?" and, as he nodded silently, she rang the bell twice, the only +signal needed at any hour to produce an appetising little meal at once; +and she herself waited on him while he ate.</p> + +<p>"How is the little boy?" she asked timidly.</p> + +<p>"Very low."</p> + +<p>"Are you going back?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Directly. I am going to operate as soon as Stevens gets there. I have +telephoned for him."</p> + +<p>"Is there any hope?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say."</p> + +<p>"Can I do anything?"</p> + +<p>"You might come and take the other children home with you—all but the +baby."</p> + +<p>"I can just as well have her too."</p> + +<p>"I would rather have her there; her mother needs her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose you don't want Mabel in the room while the operation is +going on."</p> + +<p>"I don't want her there at all. She's of no use."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!"</p> + +<p>"She can't help it."</p> + +<p>"Could I do anything there? If I can, Jenny will take the children, I +know."</p> + +<p>"No, there's no need of that." The doctor threw out his sentences +between mouthfuls of food automatically taken from a plate replenished +by his wife.</p> + +<p>"What nurse have they?"</p> + +<p>"They've had Nelly Fuller—she is a very fair one; but of course they +need two now, and one of them first rate, so I got Julia Mitchell for +them."</p> + +<p>"Julia! but how ever could you make Mrs. Sypher give her up?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I had no trouble."</p> + +<p>"And how can the Talbots ever manage to pay her?"</p> + +<p>"That will be all right. I told them she would not expect her full price +for such a short engagement, in a gap between two others. I settled it +with her myself beforehand, of course."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad you did," said Lucy, with another loving caress, which +he hardly seemed to notice. He looked at his watch, and told her she had +better hurry and change her dress. In five minutes they walked together +down the street under the beautiful arch of leafless elms, where the +snowy air brought glowing roses into Lucy's cheeks, and an elastic +spring into her tread. Her husband shrank up closer inside his fur-lined +coat, and slipped a case he had taken from his study from one cold hand +to another.</p> + +<p>"I hope the children will be ready," from her; "Julia will see to that," +from him,—were all the words that passed between them on their way.</p> + +<p>The Talbot house was but a few streets off. Lucy did not often enter it; +but the picture of battered, faded prettiness it presented, taken in at +a few glances, and heightened each time it was seen, was deeply stamped +on her mind. There was no spare money to keep up appearances<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> here. +Mabel's father had been unfortunate in his investments and extravagant +in his expenditures, and died a poor man, while her relations had grown +tired of helping Eugene, whose business talents had not fulfilled their +early promise. He always seemed, somehow, to miss in his calculations.</p> + +<p>What little order there now was in the place was due to the energetic +rule of Julia Mitchell, already felt from garret to cellar. By her care +the three little girls were dressed and ready, and were hanging, eager +and excited, round their mother, who sat, her baby on her lap, with +tear-washed cheeks and absent gaze, all pretence to the art of dress +abandoned. She hardly looked up as her beautiful, richly clad visitor +entered; but when she felt the tender pressure of the hand that Lucy +silently extended, she gave way to a fresh burst of grief.</p> + +<p>"Stevens here? asked Dr. Wilson, aside, of Miss Mitchell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; he's upstairs; and Miss Fuller, and Mr. Talbot—<i>he's</i> some +use, and the boy wants him. I don't believe you'll ever get him to take +the ether unless his papa's 'round; and I thought, if Miss Fuller would +stay outside and look after <i>her</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Then, if Mrs. Wilson will take the others off, why, the sooner the +better."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<p>The doctor looked at his wife, who was quick to respond, though with her +whole soul she longed to stay. She wanted to see Eugene; to know how he +was taking it; to hear him say something to her, no matter what; to give +him the comfort and support his wife was evidently past giving; and +then, she wanted to see her husband as nearly as possible at the moment +he had saved the child's life. She did not let the thought that he might +fail enter her mind,—not in this case, the crowning case of his life! +For this alone he had toiled, and she had striven. She gave his hand one +hard squeeze, as if to make him catch some of the passionate longing of +her heart, and then drew back with the fear that it might weaken rather +than strengthen his nerve. He looked as immobile as ever; and she turned +to take the children's little hands in hers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucy!" faltered out her successful rival, "how good of you! I can't +tell you—it does not seem as if it could be true that my beautiful +Eugene—" Here another burst of sobs shook her all over. Lucy's own +tears, as she kissed the poor mother, were bright in her eyes, but they +did not fail. She led the two older girls silently away, and young Dr. +Walker, who had been standing in the background, followed with the third +in his arms, his cool business air, just tempered by a proper +consideration<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> for the parents' feelings, covering his inward excitement +at this first chance of assisting the great physician at an operation. +As he helped the pretty Mrs. Wilson, adored of all her husband's pupils, +into her handsome carriage, which had come for her, and settled his +little charge on her lap, he was astonished, and even awe-struck, to see +that she was crying. "I never thought," he said to himself, "that Mrs. +Wilson had so much feeling! but to be sure she has a boy just this +little fellow's age!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At nine o'clock, the Talbot children, weary of the delights of that +earthly paradise, Harry Wilson's nursery, had been put to bed, and Lucy +was waiting for her husband. She looked anxiously at his face when he +came, but it told her nothing.</p> + +<p>"How—is he?" she faltered out at last.</p> + +<p>"Can't tell as yet."</p> + +<p>"Was the operation successful?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was all right enough."</p> + +<p>"And how soon shall you know if he's likely to rally?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible to say."</p> + +<p>"Any bad signs?"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing apparent as yet."</p> + +<p>"You must be very tired," she said, with a tender, unnoticed touch of +her hand to his forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not very."</p> + +<p>"Have you been there all this time?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have made one or two other calls. I was there again just now."</p> + +<p>"Do have some tea," said Lucy, striking a match and lighting the alcohol +lamp under her little brass kettle, to prepare the cup of weak, +sugarless, creamless tea, the only luxury of taste which the doctor, +otherwise rigidly keeping to a special unvaried regimen, allowed +himself; and while he sipped it languidly, she watched him intently. If +only he would say anything without being asked! But she could not wait.</p> + +<p>"How is Mabel?"</p> + +<p>"Very much overcome."</p> + +<p>"She has no self-control."</p> + +<p>"She is fairly worn out."</p> + +<p>"I am glad Julia is there."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should not feel easy unless she were. But Talbot himself behaved +very well. He is more of a hand with the boy than the mother is. He +seems bound up in him."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" said Lucy, sympathetically. Her husband did not respond. +"You had better go to bed, dear, and get some sleep," she went on. "You +must need it."</p> + +<p>"I told Julia I would be there before six," said Dr. Wilson, rising. +"She must get some rest then. So if you'll wake me at five—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course," said Lucy, who was as certain and much more agreeable than +an alarm clock; "and now go to sleep, and forget it all. You have had a +hard day, you poor fellow!"</p> + +<p>The doctor threw his arm round his wife, as she nestled closer to him, +and they turned with a common impulse to the next room, where there own +only child lay sleeping. Father and mother stood long without a word, +looking at the bright-haired boy, whose healthy breathing came and went +without a sound or a quiver; but when the mother turned to go, the +father lingered still. She did not wait for him, for her exquisite tact +could allow for shyness in a husband as well as in anyone else, and she +had no manner of jealousy of it. If he wanted to say his prayers, or +shed a few tears, or go through any other such sentimental performance +which he would feel ashamed to have her witness, why, by all means let +him have the chance; and she kept on diligently brushing her rich, dark +hair, that he might not find her waiting.</p> + +<p>There was no dramatic scene when little Eugene Talbot was declared out +of danger; it came gradually as blessings are apt to do; but after Dr. +Wilson had informed his wife day after day for a week that the child was +"no worse," he began to report him as "a little better," and finally +somewhat grudgingly to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> allow that with care there was no reason why he +should not recover. By early springtime the little fellow was playing +about in the sun and air; his sisters had been sent home all well and +blooming, with many a gift from Mrs. Wilson, and their wardrobes bearing +everywhere traces of her dainty handiwork; the mother had overflowed in +tearful thanks, and the father had struggled to speak his in vain.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I wish I knew how small I could decently make Talbot's fee," said Dr. +Wilson, as he sat at his desk, in a half-soliloquising tone, but still +designed to catch his wife's ear, and win her judicious advice.</p> + +<p>But it was not till after he had repeated the words, that she said +without raising her head from her work, while her fingers ran nervously +on, "I will tell you what I should do."</p> + +<p>"Well?" as she paused.</p> + +<p>"I should make out my bill for the usual amount, and send it in +receipted. Won't you, Henry? I wish you would, so very, very much!" she +went on, surprised at the dawning of a look she had never seen before on +his face.</p> + +<p>"That would be hardly treating him like a gentleman," he began; and then +suddenly, "Lucy, how can you keep up such a grudge against Eugene +Talbot?"</p> + +<p>Lucy's work dropped, and she sat looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> full at him, her pretty face +white as ashes, and her eyes dilated as if she had heard a voice from +the grave.</p> + +<p>"I know," he resumed, "that he has injured you on the tenderest point on +which a man can injure a woman, but surely you should have got over +thinking of that by this time. Is it noble, is it Christian to bear +malice so long? Can't you be satisfied without crowding down the coals +of fire so very hard upon his head? I never," went on Dr. Wilson, +reflectively, "did like that passage, though it is in the Bible."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Henry!"</p> + +<p>"Put it on a lower ground. Is it just to me? Do you owe me nothing? I +don't forget how much I owe you. You have made the better part of what +little reputation I have; you are proud of it; you would like to have me +more so. But do you suppose I can feel pride in anything earthly, while +another man has the power so to move my wife? You may think you do not +love him now; but where you make a parade of forgiveness, resentment +lingers; and where revenge is hot, love is still warm."</p> + +<p>"Then you knew it all?" gasped Lucy; "but how—how could you ever want +to marry me?"</p> + +<p>"Because, my dear, I loved you—all the time—too well not to be +thankful to get you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> on any terms. I gave you credit for too much good +sense and high principle to let yourself care for him when you were once +married; and—I am but a poor creature, God knows! but I hoped I could +win your love in time. There, my dear, don't! I knew I could! I am very +sure I did."</p> + +<p>He raised her head from where she had buried it among the sofa pillows, +and let her weep out a flood of the bitterest tears she had ever shed, +on his shoulder. It was long before she could check them enough to +murmur, "Forgive me—only forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"Dearest, we will both of us forget it."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Mr. Talbot wants to see you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Is the doctor out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. He did not ask for the doctor. He said he wanted to speak +to you for a minute."</p> + +<p>"Show him into the library, and tell anyone else who calls that I am +engaged for a few moments."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilson hastened downstairs, to find her visitor rather nervously +turning over the books on her table. Eugene's once bright chestnut curls +were as thin now as Henry Wilson's sandy locks, and his attire was +elegant with an effort, though he still kept his fine eyes and winning +smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Won't you sit down?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. I only came—I have not much time—I came on +business—if you are not too much engaged?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Lucy, quietly seating herself, which seemed to soothe +her companion's nerves.</p> + +<p>He sat down, too, and began abruptly, "I cannot begin to tell you how +much we owe to your husband!"</p> + +<p>"We have both sympathised so much in your sorrow and anxiety! If he +could do anything at all, I am sure he is only too glad, and so am I."</p> + +<p>"It was not only his saving our child's life, but he has done—I can't +tell you what he has done for us in every way, as if he had been a +brother—"</p> + +<p>Lucy raised her head proudly, with a glad light in her eyes. Eugene +looked at her a moment, and then went on with a sigh; "I couldn't say +this to him, but I must to you, though of course you don't need any +praise I can give him to tell you what he is."</p> + +<p>"No," said Lucy, "it is the greatest happiness of my life to know it—it +would be if no one else did; not but what it is very pleasant to have +him appreciated," she added, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I know," said Eugene, now growing red and confused, "that no recompense +could ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> express all we felt. Such services as his are not to be +bought with a price, but I could not feel satisfied if I did not give +him all that was in my power. I shall never rest till I have done +so,—but—the fact is," he hurried on desperately, "I know his charges +are very small—they seem ridiculously so for a man of his +reputation—but the fact is, I am unable just now to meet all my +obligations; the ill-health of my family has been terribly expensive—I +must ask a little time—I am ashamed to do so, but I can do it better +from him than from anyone else—and from you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't mention it!" cried Lucy, eagerly, "the sum is a mere trifle +to us; it would not matter if we never had it. To whom should you turn +to be helped or understood, if not to old friends like us?"</p> + +<p>"I hope to be able to pay all my just debts, and this among the first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course! but don't feel the least bit hurried about it! Henry +will never think of it till the time comes. He always forgets all about +his bills when they are once out. Wait till it is perfectly convenient."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Eugene huskily; "you are all goodness. I have not +deserved this of you." He had already risen to go: but as he drew near +the door he turned back: "Oh, Lucy, don't believe I was ever quite as +heartless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> as I seemed. I know I treated you in a scoundrelly way, but I +loved you all the time—indeed, indeed, I did."</p> + +<p>"Stop, Mr. Talbot! This is no language for you to use! If you have no +regard for me, recollect at least what is due to your wife."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say against Mabel. She's a dear good girl, a great +deal too good for me. It isn't her fault that things have gone against +me. I always felt it was to pay me up for my conduct to you. I loved you +as well as I ever could love anyone; but I was a selfish brute, and +thought to better myself in the world—"</p> + +<p>"Stop, Mr. Talbot! I ought not to hear any more of this! I was too much +overcome by surprise at first to check you, but now I must ask you to +leave me at once if you cannot control yourself."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a word to say that need offend you," said Eugene, humbly. "I +only wanted to ask you to forgive me for old time's sake."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing I know of for me to forgive. I am sorry, for your own +sake, to hear that you ever had such feelings. I never dreamed of them."</p> + +<p>"It seemed to me as if you could not help knowing."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? I don't remember," said Mrs. Wilson, smiling. "I was so +engrossed with my own affairs then, you see," she added with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> engaging +candour; "and if I thought about you, I supposed you were the same. You +can understand, after what you have seen of Henry, how little attention +a girl who loved him would have to spare for anyone else."</p> + +<p>Eugene assented absently. He was unable to discipline his wandering +memory, which just then was vividly picturing Lucy Morton at her +prettiest, as with a sparkle in her eye and a curl on her lip she had, +for the amusement of them both, flung some gentle sarcasm at "Henny +Wilson." He could still hear her ringing laugh at his affected jealousy +of her neighbour. But those days were past, and there before him sat +Mrs. Wilson, her face lighted up with earnest emotion, grown more lovely +still, and her voice thrilling with a deeper music. He allowed with a +pang of mortification that he was not as clever as he had supposed +himself in sounding the depths of womankind; and then with keener shame +he stifled his incredulous doubts of Dr. Wilson's being able to win and +keep love. "He deserves it all," he said aloud, while still a secret +whisper told him that love does not go by desert.</p> + +<p>"Does he not?" said Lucy. "And now we will not talk of this any more. +You must know how glad we are to be able to give you any little help, +and you must be willing to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> it as freely as it is given. I am very +sure that brighter days are coming for Mabel and you; and when they do, +we will all enjoy them together, will we not?"</p> + +<p>"You are an angel," said Eugene, taking the hand she held out; and then +he let it go and turned away without another word. Lucy stood looking +after him a longer time than she usually allowed herself to waste in +revery; and then, starting, hastened off intent on household duties.</p> + +<p>"Why are these boots in such a condition?" she asked, in a more emphatic +tone than was her wont to use to her servants, as a muddy pair in her +back entry caught her eye.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, ma'am. I brought them down here to be cleaned, but +Crossman has gone, as you ordered, to take Mrs. Talbot a little drive, +and James is out with the doctor somewhere, and there are two clean pair +in his dressing-room. Shall I black these, ma'am?" inquired the highly +trained parlour maid, who would have gone down on her very knees to +scrub the stable floor at a hint that such a proceeding might be +agreeable to Dr. Wilson.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; never mind," said her mistress, carelessly; but when the girl +had gone, she stooped and, picking up the boots, bore them to her own +room, and bringing blacking also,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> cleaned and blacked them all over in +the neatest manner, with her own delicate hands.</p> + +<p>"I know I'm not worthy to black Henry's boots," she thought to herself, +as a tear or two, which she made haste to rub away, dropped on their +polished surface; "but I can do them well, at least. No one shall ever +say that I have not made him a good wife!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/ill_013.jpg" width="200" height="108" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_014.jpg" width="400" height="92" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="THREE_CUPS_OF_TEA" id="THREE_CUPS_OF_TEA"></a>THREE CUPS OF TEA</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mrs. Samuel N. Brackett, at home Wednesday, December Tenth, +from four to seven, 3929 Commonwealth Avenue."</p></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Miss Caldwell, Wednesdays, Mount Vernon Street, December +10th, 4.30-6.30."</p></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"100 <span class="smcap">Charlesgate, East</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dearest Carrie</span>:</p> + +<p>"I am obliged to give up the Bracketts'. Mother went and +asked Dr. Thomas if I could go, and he said, of course not. +I was so provoked, for if she hadn't spoken of it, he would +never have dreamed of forbidding me to go out—he never +does. Most likely he never imagines that anybody will go +anywhere if they are not obliged to. Now that I am not +going, mother won't go herself. She wants to go to Cousin +Jane's little tea. She says they are so far apart she can't +do both. So stupid in Cousin Jane to put hers the same day +as the Bracketts'—but I dare say she will have a sufficient +number of her own set to fill up. I doubt if she gets many +of the girls. You are so soft-hearted that I dare say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> you +will struggle for both. Do get through in time to drop in +here any time after half-past six. I am going to have a few +girls to tea in my room to cheer me up and tell me all about +the Bracketts'. They have asked everyone they possibly can, +and I dare say everyone will go to see what it is like. I am +sure I would if I could. Remember you must come.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">"Ever your</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Grace G. D</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>Tuesday P.M.</i>"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>As Miss Caroline Foster, after lunch on the tenth of December, inspected +the cards and notes which encircled her mirror in a triple row, she +selected these three as calling for immediate attention. Of course she +meant to go to all: when was she ever known to refuse an invitation? +Though young and pretty, well connected and well dowered, and far from +stupid, she occupied in society the position of a down-trodden pariah or +over-worked galley-slave, for the reason that she never could say no to +anyone. She had nothing—money, time, sympathy—that was not at the +service of anyone who chose to beg or borrow them. At parties she put up +with the left-over partners, and often had none—for even the young men +had found out that she could always be had when wanted. Perhaps this was +the reason why, with all her prettiness and property,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> she was not +already appropriated in marriage. Of course she had hosts of friends, +who all despised her; but one advantage she did enjoy, for which others +might have been willing to barter admiration and respect; no one, man, +woman, or child, was ever heard to speak harshly to Caroline Foster, or +to say anything against her. Malice itself must have blushed to say that +she was too complying, and malice itself could think of nothing else.</p> + +<p>This tenth of December marked an uncommon event in her experience, for +on it she had, for the first time in her life, made up her mind to +refuse an asked-for gift; and the consciousness of this piece of spirit, +and of a beautiful new costume of dark-blue velvet trimmed with otter +fur, which set off her fair hair and fresh face to perfection, gave her +an air of unwonted stateliness as she stepped into a handsome coupé and +drove off alone. She was by no means an independent or unguarded young +woman; but her aunt, with whom she lived, had two committee meetings +that afternoon, and told Caroline that she might just as well go to Miss +Caldwell's little tea for ladies only, alone. They would meet at Mrs. +Brackett's; and if they didn't they could tell everyone they were trying +to—which would do just as well.</p> + +<p>Miss Caldwell lived in an old house on Mount<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> Vernon Street which gave +the impression that people had forgotten to pull it down because it was +so small; but within it looked spacious, as it sheltered only one lady +and two maids. Everything about it had an air of being fresh and faded +at once. The little library in front was warm dull olive-green; and the +dining-room at the back soft deep grey-blue; and the drawing-room, up +one flight of an unexpected staircase, was rich dark brick-red—all very +soothing to the eye. They were full of family portraits, and old brass +and pewter, and Japanese cabinets, and books bound in dimly gilded +calf-skin, and India chintzes, all of which were Miss Caldwell's by +inheritance. Even sunlight had a subdued effect in these rooms; and now +they were lighted chiefly by candles, and none too brilliantly.</p> + +<p>Miss Caldwell had been receiving her guests in the drawing-room; but +there were not many, and being a lady accustomed to do as she pleased, +she had followed them down to the dining-room, which was just +comfortably full. Conversation was, as it were, forced to be general, +and the whole room heard Mrs. Spofford remark that "Malcolm Johnson +would be a very poor match for Caroline Foster."</p> + +<p>"Caroline Foster and Malcolm Johnson, is that an engagement?" asked the +stout, good-natured Mrs. Manson, who was tranquilly eating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> her way +through the whole assortment of biscuits and bonbons on the table. +"Well, Caroline is a dear, sweet girl—just the kind to make a good wife +for a widower."</p> + +<p>"With five children to start with, and no means that I know of!" said +Miss Caldwell, scornfully. "I am sure I hope not!"</p> + +<p>"I have heard it on the best authority," said the first speaker.</p> + +<p>"It will take better authority than that to make me believe it."</p> + +<p>"If he proposes to her," said Mrs. Manson, "I should say she would take +him. I never knew Caroline to say no to anyone."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Miss Caldwell, "I suppose it's natural for a woman to be a +fool in such matters—for most women," she corrected herself; "but if +Caroline marries Malcolm Johnson I shall think her <i>too</i> foolish—and +she has never seemed to me to be lacking in sense."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said the pourer out of tea, a pretty damsel with large dark +eyes, a little faded to match the room—"perhaps she wants a sphere."</p> + +<p>"As if her aunt could not find her fifty spheres if she wanted them!"</p> + +<p>"Too many, perhaps," said a tall lady with a sensible, school-teaching +air. "I have sometimes thought that Mrs. Neal, with managing all her own +children's families and her charities,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> had not much time or thought to +spare for poor little Caroline. She is kind to her, but I doubt if she +gives her much attention."</p> + +<p>"A woman likes something of her own," said Mrs. Manson.</p> + +<p>"Her own!" said Miss Caldwell. "How much good of her own is she likely +to have if she marries Malcolm Johnson?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Spofford, "his motives would be plain enough; I dare +say he's in love with her. Caroline is a lovely girl, but of course in +such a case her money goes for something."</p> + +<p>"But she has not so very much money," said Mildred, dropping a lump of +sugar into a cup—"plenty, I suppose, for herself, but it would not +support a large family like Mr. Johnson's."</p> + +<p>"It would pay his taxes, my dear, and buy his coal," said Miss Caldwell, +"and he has kept house long enough to appreciate the help <i>that</i> would +be."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Manson, "coal is so terribly high this winter!"</p> + +<p>"It would be a saving for him to marry anybody," said a thin lady with a +sweet smile, slightly soiled gloves, and her bonnet rather on one side. +"He tells me that his housekeepers are no end of trouble. He is always +changing them, and his children are running wild with it all. He's a +very old friend of mine," she added with a conscious air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are very troublesome children," said Miss Caldwell. "I hear them +crying a great deal."</p> + +<p>"Poor little things!—they need training," said Mrs. Manson.</p> + +<p>"Caroline would never train them; she is too amiable."</p> + +<p>"They have so much illness," said Mrs. Eames, the "old friend." "Poor +Malcolm tells me he is afraid that little Willie has incipient spine +complaint; he is in pain most of the time. The poor child was always +delicate, and his mother watched him most carefully. She was a most +painstaking mother, poor thing, though I don't imagine there was much +congeniality between her and Malcolm. I wish I could do something for +them, but I have <i>such</i> a family of my own."</p> + +<p>"Someone ought to warn Caroline," said Miss Caldwell. "I wonder he has +the audacity to ask her. If he wasn't a widower he wouldn't dare to."</p> + +<p>"If he wasn't a widower," said Miss Mildred, "her loving him in spite of +all his drawbacks would seem more natural."</p> + +<p>"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Manson, "he wouldn't have the +drawbacks, you know."</p> + +<p>"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Eames, "he might not be so anxious +to marry her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> Good-by, dear Miss Caldwell. Such a delightful tea! I may +take some little cakes to the dear children?"</p> + +<p>"Good-by," said Mrs. Manson, swallowing her last macaroon. She turned +back as she reached the doorway; and her ample figure, completely +filling it up, gave opportunity for a young lady who had been standing +in the shadow of the staircase to dart across the hall unseen. Miss +Caroline Foster had sought her hostess in the drawing-room, but finding +it empty, had come downstairs again, and had been obliged to listen to +the conversation, which she had not the courage to interrupt; and she +now threw on her wrap and rushed past the astonished maid out of the +house before Mrs. Manson's slow progress could reach the cloak-room.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At half-past five o'clock the Brackett tea was in full swing. The +occupants of the carriages at the end of the long file were getting out +and walking to the door, and some of the more prudent were handing in +their cards and departing, judging from the crush that if their chance +of getting in was but small, their chance of getting away was none at +all. The Bracketts were at home; but of their home there was nothing to +be seen for the crowd, except the blazing chandeliers overhead, the +high-hung<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> modern French pictures in heavy gilded frames, the intricate +draperies of costly stuffs and laces at the tops of the tall windows, +here and there the topmost spray of some pyramid or bank of flowers, and +the upper part of the immense mirrors which reflected over and over what +they could catch of the scene. The hostess was receiving in the middle +drawing-room; but it was a work of time and pains to get so far as to +obtain a view of the sparkling aigret in her hair. A meagre, carefully +dressed woman had accomplished this duty, and might now fairly be +getting off and leaving her place for someone else; yet she lingered +near the door of the outer room, loath to depart, looking with an +anxious eye for familiar faces, with an uneasy incipient smile waiting +for the occasion to call out. Sometimes it grew more marked, and she +made a tentative step forward; and if the person went by with scant +greeting or none at all, she would draw back and patiently repair it for +future use. For the one or two who stopped to speak to her she kept it +carefully up to, but not beyond, a certain point, while still her +restless eye strayed past them in search of better game. Just as she had +exchanged a warmer greeting than her wont with a quiet, lady-like woman +who was forced on inward by the crowd, she was startled by a smart tap +on her shoulder, and as she turned sharp round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> towards the wall, the +rich brocade window-curtains waved, and a low voice was heard from +behind them.</p> + +<p>"Come in here, won't you, Miss Snow?"</p> + +<p>Miss Martha Snow, bewildered, drew aside the heavy folds, and found +herself face to face with a richly arrayed, distinguished-looking, +though <i>passée</i> woman, who had settled herself comfortably on the +cushioned seat between the lace curtains without and the silk within.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Freeman! how do you do? How you did frighten me!"</p> + +<p>"I have been trying to get at you for an age," said Mrs. Thorndike +Freeman, laughing. "I thought you would never have done falling into the +arms of that horrid Hapgood woman."</p> + +<p>"I could not help it. She would keep me. She is one of those people you +can't shake off, you know."</p> + +<p>"I! <i>I</i> don't know her."</p> + +<p>"But why are you here, out of sight of everyone? Are you waiting for a +chance to get at Mrs. Brackett?" hurried on Miss Snow.</p> + +<p>"I'm waiting for a chance to get away from her. I would not be seen +speaking to her for any consideration whatever."</p> + +<p>"I—I <i>was</i> surprised to meet you here!"</p> + +<p>"I came because I wanted to see what it would be like, but I had no +conception it would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> be so bad. Did you ever see such a set as she has +collected?"</p> + +<p>"It does seem mixed."</p> + +<p>"Unmixed, I should call it. I have been waiting for half an hour to see +a soul of my acquaintance. Sit down here, and let us have a nice talk."</p> + +<p>A nice talk with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman foreboded a dead cut from her +the next time you met her; for she never took anyone up without as +violently putting them down again—and then there was no one now to see +and envy. However, Miss Snow dared not refuse, and seating herself with +a conciliatory, frightened air, somewhat like a little dog in the cage +of a lioness, asked in timid tones:</p> + +<p>"Why do you stay? Is not your carriage here?"</p> + +<p>"I want to get something to eat first," said Mrs. Freeman, "for I +suppose their spread is something indescribable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite! The whole middle of the table is a mass of American Beauty +roses as large as—as cabbages, and around that a bank of mignonette +like—like small cauliflowers, and all over beneath it is covered with +hothouse maiden-hair ferns, and——"</p> + +<p>"And what's the grub?"</p> + +<p>"I—did not eat much; I only wanted to see it; but I had a delicious +little <i>paté</i>—chicken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> done in cream, somehow; and I saw aspic jelly +with something in it handed round; and the ices—they are all in floral +devices, water lilies floating on spun sugar, and roses in gold baskets, +and cherries tied in bunches with ribbons, and grapes lying on tinted +Bohemian glass leaves—and———"</p> + +<p>"It sounds appetising. I'll wait till I see a man that doesn't know me, +and he shall get me some. I don't want it known that I ever entered +their doors."</p> + +<p>"Shall I not go back to the dining-room and send a waiter to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed—he would be sure to know me, and I should get put on the +list."</p> + +<p>"The stationers who sent out the invitations will do that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—I can only say I never came. But the waiter would swear to +me, and very likely describe my dress. No, I shall wait a little longer. +Stay here and keep me company."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it will be delightful!" quavered Miss Snow, though worrying at the +prospect of getting away late on foot, and ill able to afford cab-hire.</p> + +<p>"You've heard of the engagement, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Which of them?" asked Miss Snow, skilfully hedging.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, the only one, so far as I know. Why, haven't you heard? Ralph +Underwood and Winnie Parke."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! has that come out? I have been away from home for a few days, +and had not heard. Very pleasant, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Very—for her. It was her sister who did it, Mrs. Al Smith. She's a +very clever young woman; fished for Al herself in the most barefaced +way, and now she's caught Ralph for her sister; and she's not nearly so +good-looking, either, Winnie Parke, though I should say she had a better +temper than Margaret. You know Margaret Smith of course?"</p> + +<p>"Not very well," said Miss Snow, deprecatingly. "I thought when you +spoke of an engagement you meant Malcolm Johnson and Caroline Foster."</p> + +<p>"That never will be an engagement!" said Mrs. Freeman scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am very glad to hear you say so—only I have met him so much +there lately, and it quite worried me; it would be such a bad thing for +dear Caroline; she is a sweet girl."</p> + +<p>"You need not worry about it any longer, for I know positively that she +has refused him."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad. I was so afraid that Caroline—she is so amiable a +girl, you know, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> so apt to do what people tell her to—I was afraid +she might say yes for fear of hurting his feelings."</p> + +<p>"She would never dream of his having feelings—her position is so +different. Why, Caroline is a cousin of my own."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, of course—only he would doubtless be so much in love; and +many people think him delightful—he <i>was</i> very handsome."</p> + +<p>"Before Caroline was born, maybe. No, no, Caroline has plenty of sense, +though she looks so gentle—and then the family would never hear of it. +His affairs are in a shocking condition. Why, you know what he lost in +Atchison—and I happen to know that his other investments are in a very +shaky condition."</p> + +<p>"He has that handsome house."</p> + +<p>"Mortgaged, my dear, mortgaged up to its full value. No, he's badly +off—and then there are such discreditable rumours about him; Thorndike +knows all about it."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! I never heard anything against his character."</p> + +<p>"I could tell you plenty," said Mrs. Freeman, with a little shrug. "And +then he drinks, or at least he probably will end in drinking—they +always do when they are driven desperate. Oh, no, Caroline is a cousin +of mine, and a most charming girl. Don't for heaven's sake hint at such +a thing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I assure you, I never have. I am always so careful."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I never say a thing that I am not certain is true," said Mrs. +Freeman, yawning. "Why, where do all these lovely youths come from? Ah! +I see; past six o'clock; the shop is closed, and they have turned the +clerks on duty here. Well, now, I can get something to eat, for I never +buy anything of them. Tell that one over there to come to me, the +light-haired one, I mean; he looks strong and good-humoured."</p> + +<p>As Miss Snow rose to obey this order, a fair-haired girl in a dark-blue +velvet gown, who on entering had been pinned close against the wall +within hearing by the crowd, made a frantic struggle for freedom, and +succeeded in reaching the entrance hall, to the amazement of the other +guests, who did not look for such a display of strength in so +gentle-looking and painfully blushing a creature.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At half-past six a select party was assembling in Miss Grace Deane's own +room, the prettiest room, it was said, in Boston, in the handsomest of +the new Charlesgate houses; a corner room, with a bright sunny outlook +over the long extent of waterside gardens. The high wainscot, the +chimney-piece, the bed on its alcoved and curtained <i>haut pas</i> were of +cherry wood, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> natural colour, carved with elaborate and unwearied +fancy; and its rich hue showed here and there round the Persian rugs on +the floor. At the top of the wall was a painted frieze of cherry boughs +in bloom, with now and then one loaded with fruit peeping through, and +the same idea was imitated in the chintzes. The wall space left was +papered in a shade of spring green so delicate and elusive that no one +could decide whether it verged on gold or silver, almost hidden with +close-hung water colours and autotypes; and the ceiling showed between +cherry beams an even softer tint in daintily stained woods. The Minton +tiles around the fireplace and lining the little adjoining bathroom were +all in different designs of pale green and white sparingly dashed with +coral pink. There were sofas and low chairs and bookcases and cabinets +and a tiny piano and a writing-desk and a drawing-table, and a +work-table and yet more tables, all covered with smaller objects. +Useless, and especially cheap, bric-à-brac was Miss Deane's abomination, +but everything she used was exquisite. The bed and dressing-table were +covered with finest linen, drawn and fretted by the needle, into filmy +gossamer; and from the latter came a subdued glitter of a hundred silver +trifles of the toilet, beaten and chiselled like the fine foamy crest of +the wave.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Deane, the owner of this pretty room, for whom and by whom it had +been devised and decked with abundant means held well in check by taste, +was very seldom in it. The Deanes had two country houses, and they spent +a great deal of time abroad, and in the winter they often went to +California or Florida or Bermuda; and when they were at their town +houses they were usually out. But Miss Deane did sometimes sleep there, +and when she had a cold and had to keep in she could not but look around +it with gratification. It certainly was a pleasant room to give a little +tea in. Its being her bedroom only made the effect more piquant. She +believed the ladies of the last century used to have tea in their +bedrooms; and this was quite in antique style—yes, the tea-table and +some of the chairs were real antiques. By the time she had arranged the +flowers to her taste and sat down arrayed in a tea-gown of rose-coloured +China crape and white lace to make tea in a Dresden service with little +rosebuds for handles, she felt quite well again, and ready to greet a +dozen or so of her dearest friends, who ran upstairs unannounced and +threw off their own wraps on the lace-covered bed.</p> + +<p>Some of these young women were beautiful, and all looked pretty, their +charms equalised by their clothes and manners. They had all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> been on the +most intimate terms with each other from babyhood, and they had the +eagerness to please anyone and everyone, characteristic of the American +girl. Each talked to the other as if that other were a lover, and they +had the sweetest smiles for the maid.</p> + +<p>"So it was pleasant at the Bracketts'?" asked Grace, beginning to fill +her cups.</p> + +<p>"Oh, delightful!" exclaimed the whole circle; "that is"—with modified +energy—"it was crowded of course, and very hot, and it was hard to get +at people, and there was no time to talk when you did; but everybody was +there," they concluded with revived spirit.</p> + +<p>"I was not there," sighed Mildred; "I had to make tea for Miss +Caldwell—mother said I must—and some of the people stayed so late that +it was no use thinking of the other place, though I put on this gown to +be all ready. I thought it would do to pour out at such a little +tea"—surveying her pale fawn cloth gown dashed with dark velvet worked +in gold.</p> + +<p>"Oh, perfectly! most appropriate!" said the others.</p> + +<p>"Who else poured out?" said Grace.</p> + +<p>"Why, she told me that Caroline Foster was coming, and I was so +delighted; but when I got there I found Mrs. Neal had sent a note saying +she could not allow Caroline to give up the Bracketts' altogether; and +Miss Caldwell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> had invited that Miss Leggett, whom I hardly know—wasn't +it unpleasant? And she wore regular full dress, pink India silk and +chiffon, cut very low—the effect was dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"Horrid!" murmured her sympathising friends.</p> + +<p>"Caroline was there, I suppose?" queried one.</p> + +<p>"No—she never came at all."</p> + +<p>"Probably she went to the Bracketts' first, and couldn't get away," said +Grace. "I wonder she isn't here by this time. Who saw her there?" +General silence was the sole answer, and she looked round her only to +have it re-inforced by a more emphatic "I didn't."</p> + +<p>"Why, she must have been there! She told me she should surely go. How +odd—" but her words died away, and the group regarded each other with +looks of awe, till one daring young woman broke the spell with, "Do you +think—can it be possible—that she's really engaged?"</p> + +<p>"To Mr. Johnson?" broke out the whole number. "Oh! I hope not! It would +be shocking—dreadful—too bad!"</p> + +<p>"We shouldn't see a thing of her; she would be so tied down," murmured +Dorothy Chandler, almost in tears.</p> + +<p>"Everyone who marries is tied down, for that matter," cheerfully +remarked a blooming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> young matron, who had been the rounds of the teas. +"I assure you," she went on, nibbling a chocolate peppermint with +relish, "I am doing an awful thing myself in being here at this hour; +aren't you, Anna?"—addressing a mate in like condition, who blushed, +conscience-stricken as she said, "Perhaps Caroline is in love with Mr. +Johnson."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how any one can fall in love with a widower," said Mildred.</p> + +<p>"That depends on the widower," said the pretty Mrs. Blanchard. "I do +think Mr. Johnson is rather too far gone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Mildred; "he looks so—so—I don't know how to express +it."</p> + +<p>"What you would call dowdy if he were a woman," said her more +experienced friend. "He looks as if he wanted a wife; but I don't see +why someone else would not do as well as Caroline—some respectable +maiden lady who could sew on his buttons and make his children stand +round. I don't think Caroline would be of the least use to him."</p> + +<p>"It would be almost impossible to keep her up," said Grace.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Blanchard; "I'm very fond of Caroline, but I'm afraid I +could never get Bertie up to the point of intimacy with Malcolm Johnson; +he thinks him underbred—says his hats show it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is your tea too strong, Harriet, dear? There is no hot water left," +said Grace, ringing her little silver bell with energy. But no one came. +"I told Marguerite to keep in the sewing-room, in hearing," she went on, +ringing it again.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard her at the door just now," said the outermost of the +circle.</p> + +<p>"<i>Would</i> you mind looking, dear? If she's not there I'll ring the other +bell for someone from downstairs."</p> + +<p>No Marguerite was at the door, the sounds laid to her charge having been +caused by the precipitate retreat of a young lady who had come late and, +running quickly upstairs unannounced, had paused at the room door to +recover her breath, and had just time to do so and to fly downstairs +again and out of the house without encountering anyone.</p> + +<p>Caroline—for it was she—hurried round the corner; for her home was so +near that she had dismissed her carriage. The house was empty and dark. +Mrs. Neal had gone to spend the evening with one of her married +daughters and had not thought it necessary to provide any dinner at +home. There was no neglect in this. There were plenty of cousins at +whose houses Caroline could have dined and welcome; or if she did not +choose to do so, there was abundance in the larder, and if her teas had +left her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> any appetite she had but to give the order herself and sit +down alone to her cold meat and bread and butter. As we know, her teas +had been feasts of Tantalus; but she did not feel hungry—for food. She +hastened up to her room without a word to the maid, lighted her gas, +took a key from her watch-chain, opened her writing-desk, and took out a +letter which she read, not for the first time, with attention.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Mount Vernon Street</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Miss Foster</span>:</p> + +<p>"You will, I am afraid, be surprised at what I am going to +say. Perhaps you will blame me for writing it, and perhaps +you will blame me for saying it at all. I know it is an act +of presumption in me to ask one so beautiful, so young and +untrammelled by care, to link her fortunes with mine: but I +do it because I cannot help it. I love you so much that I am +unable to turn my thoughts to my most pressing duties till I +have at least tried my fate with you; and yet my hopes are +so faint that I cannot venture to ask you in any way but +this.</p> + +<p>"Don't think I love you less because I have so many other +claimants for my affections; any more than I love them less +because I love you. My poor children have no mother; I could +never ask any woman to take that place to them unless we +could both feel sure that ours was no mere match of +convenience; but I could not love anyone unless she had the +tenderness of nature which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> belongs to a true mother. I +never saw any girl in whom it showed so plainly as in you. +Your angelic sweetness and gentleness are to me, who have +seen something of the rough side of life, unspeakably +beautiful. I know I am not worthy of you in any way; but it +sometimes seems to me that appreciating you so thoroughly as +I do must make me a little so.</p> + +<p>"Your family will very likely object to me on the score of +want of means. I am fully aware that I cannot give you such +advantages in that respect as you have a right to expect, +even if I were much richer than I am ever likely to be; but +I am not so poorly off as they may suppose. I own the house +in which I live, free of encumbrance, and I should like to +settle it upon you. I do not know whether your property is +secured to your separate use or not; but I should wish to +have it so in any case. If my life and health are spared, I +have no fears that I shall not be able to support my family +in comfort. I know you will have to give up a great deal in +the way of society; and I cannot promise that you shall have +no cares, but I can and do promise that you will make us all +very happy.</p> + +<p>"I still fear my chances are but small; but do, I entreat +you, take time to think over this. No matter what your +answer may be, I am and ever shall be</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">"Your faithful and devoted</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Malcolm Johnson</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>December 8, 189-.</i>"</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> + +<p>After Caroline had read this letter twice, she drew out another, +spotless and freshly written, and breaking the seal, read:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Johnson</span>:</p> + +<p>"I was very sorry to receive your letter this morning. Pray +don't think I blame you for writing—but indeed you think +much too highly of me. I am not at all fitted to assume such +serious duties as being at the head of your family would +involve, and it would only be a disappointment to you if I +did. I have had no experience, and I should feel it wrong to +undertake it, even if I could return your generous affection +as it deserves. Indeed, I don't value money, or any of those +things; but I do not want to give up my friends and all my +own ways of life, unless I loved you. I am so sorry I +can't—but surely you will not blame me, for I never dreamed +of this, or I would have tried to let you know my thoughts +sooner.</p> + +<p>"I am sure my aunt would disapprove. Highly as she esteems +you, she would think me too young, and not at all the right +kind of wife for you. I shall not breathe a word to her or +to anyone, and I hope you will soon forget this, and find +some one who will really be a good wife to you and a devoted +mother to your children. No one will be more delighted at +this than</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">"Your sincere friend,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Caroline Alice Foster</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>December 9, 189-.</i>"</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>This letter, which Caroline had spent three hours in writing, and copied +six times, she now tore into small pieces and threw them into the +fireplace. The fire was out, and the grate was black, so she lighted a +match and watched till every scrap was consumed to ashes, when she sat +down at her desk and, heedless of the chilly room, wrote with a flying +pen:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Beacon Street</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Johnson</span>:</p> + +<p>"Pray forgive me that I have been so long in answering your +letter. I could not decide such an important matter in +haste. Indeed you think more highly of me than you ought; +but if such a foolish, ignorant girl as I am can make you +happy, and you are sure you are not mistaken, I will try to +return your love as it deserves. I have not much experience +with children; but I will do my best to make yours love me, +and it will surely be better for the dear little things than +to have no mother at all.</p> + +<p>"I dare say my aunt will think me very presumptuous to +undertake so responsible a position; but she will not oppose +me when she knows my heart is concerned,—and I am of age, +and have a right to decide for myself. I shall be so glad of +some real duties to make my idle, aimless life really useful +to someone. I don't care for wealth, and as for society, I +am heartily tired of it. The only fear I have is that you +are over-rating me; but it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> is so pleasant to be loved so +much that I will not blame you for it.</p></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">"I am ever yours sincerely,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Caroline Alice Foster</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>December 10, 189-.</i>"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>If Caroline, by writing this letter, constituted herself a lunatic in +the judgment of all her friends, it must be allowed, as Miss Caldwell +had said, that she was not quite lacking in sense. Unlike either a fool +or the heroine of a novel, she rang the bell for no servant, sent for no +messenger, but when she had sealed and stamped her letter she tripped +downstairs with it and, having slipped back the latch as she opened the +door, walked as far as the nearest post-box and dropped it in herself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/ill_015.jpg" width="300" height="111" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_016.jpg" width="400" height="92" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="THE_TRAMPS_WEDDING" id="THE_TRAMPS_WEDDING"></a>THE TRAMPS' WEDDING</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">"They know no country, own no lord.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">Their home the camp, their law the sword."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Reed, as her husband entered her sitting-room; +with some curiosity, pardonable in view of the fact that a stranger had +for some time been holding an interview with him in his study.</p> + +<p>"Why," replied the Reverend Richard Reed, looking mildly absent, as was +his custom when interrupted of a Saturday morning, "it is a Mr. Perley +Pickens—the man, you know, who has taken the Maynard place for the +summer."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! what did he want?" cried the lady, interested at once. The +Maynard house was the great house of the place, and the Maynard family +the magnates of the First Parish, and the whole town of Rutland. Their +going abroad for a year or two had been felt as a public loss, and when, +somewhat to the general surprise, it transpired that their house was +let,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> it was at once surmised that it could only be to "nice" people, +though the new occupants had never been heard of, and were rarely seen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, his daughter is to be married, and he wants the ceremony to take +place in our church."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so? and he wants you to marry them?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Why, we haven't had a wedding in the church for quite a while! It will +be very nice, won't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear; but excuse me, I am in a hurry just now. Mr. Pickens is +waiting. He wants you to give him a few addresses. I gave him the +sexton's——"</p> + +<p>"It will be a good thing for poor Langford," said Mrs. Reed, +benevolently.</p> + +<p>"Yes—" drawled the Reverend Richard, still abstractedly, "very good; +and he wants a Boston caterer, and a florist. I know nothing about such +things, and I told him I'd ask you, though I did not believe you did, +either."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I do! Mrs. Maynard always has Rossi, and as for a florist, +they must have John Wicks, at the corner here. He's just set up, and it +will be such a chance for him."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he will do? Mr. Pickens said that expense was no +object—that everything must be in style, as he phrased it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll do! Anyone will do, at this season. Why, they could decorate +the church, and house too, from their own place; but I shan't suggest +that."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear—but I am keeping Mr. Pickens waiting."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and speak to him myself," said the lady, excitedly; and she +tripped into the study, where the guest was sitting, with his hat on his +knees; a tall, narrow-shouldered man, with a shifty eye. Somehow the +sight of him was disappointing, she could hardly tell why, for he rose +to greet her very politely, and thanked her effusively.</p> + +<p>"My wife will be most grateful, I am sure—most grateful for your +kindness. It will save her so much trouble."</p> + +<p>"Here are the addresses you want," said Mrs. Reed, hastily scratching +them off at her husband's desk, "and if Mrs. Pickens wants any others, I +shall be happy to be of use to her."</p> + +<p>"Thank you! thank you! You see, she's a stranger here, and doesn't know +anything about it."</p> + +<p>"You have not been in this part of the country before?"</p> + +<p>"No—oh, no, I come from Clarinda, Iowa. At least, I always register +from there, though I haven't any house there now; and my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> present wife +was a Missouri woman, though she's never lived in the State much. I had +to be in Boston on business this summer, so thought I'd take a place +outside, and Mr. Bowles, the real estate agent, said this was the +handsomest going, and the country first-rate; but my wife's a little +disappointed."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, if she has travelled so much, she has seen a great deal of +fine scenery—but this is generally thought a pretty place."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly—very rustic, though, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said his hearer, a little puzzled, while for the first +time her husband looked up, alert and amused. "I will call on Mrs. +Pickens," she hastened to say, "if she would like to see me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly; delighted, I'm sure; yes, she'd be delighted to see +you, and so would Miss Minnie, too."</p> + +<p>"What a very queer man!" thought Mrs. Reed. But she only smiled sweetly, +and made a little move, as if the interview were fairly over. Her +visitor, however, did not seem inclined to depart, and after a moment's +silence began again.</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing; if you would be so very kind as to +recommend—I mean, introduce—we know so few people here, and Miss +Minnie wants everything very stylish; perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> you know some nice young +men who would like to be ushers; I believe that is what they are called. +It would be a good thing for them to be seen at; everything in +first-class style, you know."</p> + +<p>The Reverend Richard, whose attention was now thoroughly aroused, beamed +full on the speaker a guileless smile, while his wife thoughtfully +murmured, "Let me see; do you expect a great many people?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, we don't know many round here; but if you and your family, and +the ushers and their families, would come to the house, it would make +quite a nice little company. As to the church—anyone that liked—it +would be worth seeing."</p> + +<p>"I can find some ushers," said Mrs. Reed, still musing; "two at least; +that will be enough, I should think."</p> + +<p>"And then," murmured Mr. Pickens, as if checking off a mental list, +"there is a young man to go with the bridegroom, I believe. I never had +one, but Miss Minnie says it's the fashion."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, a 'best man!'" explained his hostess, "but—the bridegroom +usually selects one of his intimate friends for that."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe Mr. MacJacobs has any friends; round here, that is. He +came from Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania, but he's never been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> there since he +was a boy. He's been in New Orleans, and then in Europe, as travelling +agent for MacVickar & Company. I suppose you've heard of <i>them</i>."</p> + +<p>"I dare say I can find a best man."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. You are very kind; yes, very kind indeed, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"I presume," interposed the host, in bland accents, "you wish to give +away the bride yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Mr. Pickens, starting; "oh, yes, I suppose I can, if there's +not too much to do. Should I have to say anything?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely," replied the clergyman, reassuringly. "I ask a question to +which you are supposed to reply, but a nod will be quite sufficient. The +bridegroom is generally audible, and sometimes the bride, but I have +never heard a sound proceed from the bride's father."</p> + +<p>"Very good—very good; it will be very pleasant to join in your service, +I am sure. Many thanks to you for your kind advice. I will now take my +leave," and after a jerking bow or two he departed, with a sort of +fluttering, bird-like step. The pastor laughed, but his wife looked +sober.</p> + +<p>"Our friend is as amusing a specimen as I ever encountered," he began.</p> + +<p>"Amusing! I call him disgusting, with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> 'Miss Minnie 'and 'take his +leave.' He can't be a gentleman; there is something very suspicious +about the whole affair."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! and what do you suspect?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe there's a wedding at all. Perhaps he's an impostor who +wants to get in here to steal."</p> + +<p>"Do you miss anything?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the lady, after a peep into her dining-room. "I can't say I +do. But he may come back on this pretended wedding business. Are you +sure that he really is Mr. Perley Pickens?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. I have never spoken to him before, but I have seen him at the +post-office, opening his box, and again at the station. I cannot be +mistaken in that walk of his."</p> + +<p>"Well, he may be the head of a gang of thieves, and have taken the house +and got up this scheme of a wedding for some end of his own."</p> + +<p>"Such as what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to cheat somebody, somehow. I am sure you will never get a wedding +fee for it; and he may not pay any of the bills, and the people may +bother us."</p> + +<p>"He gave me the name of his Boston bankers, May & Maxwell, to whom he +said I could refer the tradespeople, if they wished it, 'being a +stranger here himself,' as he justly remarked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> But whom, my dear, do +you expect to provide for ushers or best man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for ushers, the Crocker boys will do. They will be glad of +something to amuse them in vacation."</p> + +<p>"Are they not rather young? Fred can hardly be eighteen yet."</p> + +<p>"Well! he is six feet and over. One needn't tell his age; and as for +best man, I think William Winchester wouldn't mind it—to oblige me."</p> + +<p>"But why, my love, since you are so distrustful, are you so anxious to +be of use in this matter?"</p> + +<p>"Why!" echoed his wife, triumphantly; "it's the best way to encourage +them to go on, and then, don't you see? if they have any dishonest +designs, they'll be the sooner exposed; and then—I do want to see what +the end of it all will be—don't you?"</p> + +<p>In pursuance of these ideas, Mrs. Reed, next afternoon, put on her best +bonnet, and went to call on the ladies of the Pickens family. The +gardens and shrubberies of the Maynard house, always beautiful, yet +showed already the want of the master's eye. The servant who opened the +door was of an inferior grade, and the drawing-room, stripped of Mrs. +Maynard's personal belongings, looked bare and cold. Mrs. Reed sat and +sighed for her old friend full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> quarter of an hour, before a pale, slim, +pretty girl, much dressed, and with carefully crimped locks, came in +with, "It's very kind in you to call. Aunt Delia's awfully sorry to keep +you waiting, but she'll be down directly."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you," said Mrs. Reed, looking with some attention +at the probable bride-elect.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Delia was sitting in her dressing-sack. She generally does, +day-times. It's so much trouble to dress, she thinks. Now I think it's +something to do; there isn't much else, here."</p> + +<p>"This is a lovely place. I always admire it afresh every time I come +here."</p> + +<p>"It's lonesome; but then, it's pleasant enough for a little while. I +never care to stay long in any one place. I've lived in about a hundred +since I can recollect; and I wouldn't take a house in any one of 'em for +a gift, if I had to live in it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you may feel differently when you have a house of your own."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's one of the things Mr. MacJacobs and I quarrel about. I +want to board, and he wants to take a flat. I tell him I'll do that, if +he'll get one where we can dine at the table d'hote. That's about as +easy as boarding. As like as not, when we get settled, he'll have to go +off somewhere else; but if he is willing to pay for it himself, why, let +him!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> Here's Aunt Delia," she suddenly added, as a fresh rustle +announced the entrance of a stout lady, also very handsomely attired, +and carrying a large fan, which she waved to and fro, slowly but +steadily, gazing silently over it at her visitor, whom Minnie introduced +with some explanation, after which she remarked that it was "awfully +hot."</p> + +<p>"It is warm; but I have not found it unpleasant. I really enjoyed my +walk here."</p> + +<p>"Did you walk?" asked her hostess, with more interest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; it is not more than a mile here from the church; and the +parsonage is but a step farther."</p> + +<p>"A mile!"</p> + +<p>"I am very glad," said Mrs. Reed, well trained, as became her position, +in the art of filling gaps in talk, and striking out on new lines, "to +find you at home, and Miss—I beg your pardon, but I have not heard your +niece's name. Mr. Reed thought she was your daughter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Minnie isn't my niece!" exclaimed the hostess, laughing, as if +roused to some sense of amusement, which Minnie shared; "she's an +adopted daughter of Mr. Webb's second wife!"</p> + +<p>"My name's Minnie Webb, though pa never approved of it, and when he +married<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> again, we thought it would be easier to say Aunt Delia, to +distinguish her from ma, you know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reed paused before these complicated relationships, and skilfully +executed another tack; "I hope you find it pleasant here."</p> + +<p>"It's a pretty place here, but it's awful dull," said Mrs. Pickens, "and +it's so much trouble; I never kept house before. I've always boarded, +and mostly in hotels."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid it may seem quiet here to a stranger," said Mrs. Reed, +apologetically. "You see when anyone takes a house here for the summer, +people are rather slow to call; they suppose that you have your own +friends visiting you, and that you don't care to make new acquaintances +for so short a time. I am sorry I have not been able to call before. I +was not sure that you went to our church."</p> + +<p>"I don't go much to church; it is so much trouble. But Minnie says yours +is the prettiest for a wedding," said Mrs. Pickens, smiling so aimlessly +that it was impossible to suppose any rudeness intended. Mrs. Reed could +only try to draw out the more responsive Minnie. "Is there anything else +that I can do to help you about the wedding?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—only, you've been so kind. I most hate to ask you for +anything more."</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, then, if you could think of any girl that would do for a +bridesmaid."</p> + +<p>"A bridesmaid?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, there ought to be <i>one</i> bridesmaid; a pretty one I should +want, of course, and just about my size. You see, I have her dress all +ready, for when I ordered my own gown in Paris, Madame Valerie showed me +the proper bridesmaid's gown to go with it, and it looked so nice I told +her I would take it. I thought, if the worst came to the worst, I could +wear it myself; but it would be a shame not to have it show at the +wedding. Of course," said Minnie, impressively, "I mean to <i>give</i> the +young lady the dress—for her own, to keep!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reed, at last, was struck fairly speechless, and her resources +failed. "Suppose," said the bride, in coaxing tones, "you just step up +and look at the gowns; if it would not be too much trouble."</p> + +<p>The sight of the dresses was a mighty argument. At any rate, people with +such garments could be planning no vulgar burglary. It might be a +Gunpowder Treason, or an Assassination Plot, and that was romantic and +dignified, while at the same time it was a duty to keep it under +observation.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Mrs. Reed, slowly, "I know a girl—a very pretty +one—who would just fit this dress."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Muriel Blake."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how sweet! I wish it was mine! Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"She—she teaches school—but they're of very good family. She's very +pretty—but they're not at all well off. She's a very sweet girl." Mrs. +Reed balanced her phrases carefully, not knowing whether it would be +better to present her young friend in the light of a candidate for pity +or admiration. But Minnie smiled, and said she had no doubt it would do, +and that Mrs. Reed was very good; and even Mrs. Pickens wound herself up +to remark that it was very kind in her to take so much trouble.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reed hastened home overwhelmed with business. The Crocker boys were +easily persuaded to take the parts assigned them, and even her elegant +and experienced friend, William Winchester, though he made a favour of +his services, gave them at last, "wholly to oblige her."</p> + +<p>"Any bridesmaids?" asked Reggie Crocker.</p> + +<p>"She wants me to ask Muriel Blake."</p> + +<p>"What, the little beauty of a school teacher! Well, there will be +sport!" cried his brother, and even William Winchester asked with some +interest, if she supposed Miss Blake would consent. "I think so," said +Mrs. Reed; but her hopes were faint as she bent her way to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> little +house where Mrs. Blake, an invalid widow with scarce a penny, scraped +out a livelihood by taking the public-school teachers to board, while +her Muriel did half the housework, and taught, herself, in a primary +school, having neither time nor talents to fit herself for a higher +grade. Never was there a girl who better exemplified the old simile of +the clinging vine than she; only no support had ever offered itself for +her to cling to, and she had none of that instinctive skill which so +many creepers show in striking out for, and appropriating, an eligible +one. Mrs. Blake, a gentlewoman born and bred, gave at first a most +decided refusal to her daughter's appearance in the character proposed. +But Mrs. Reed, warming as she met with obstacles, pressed her point +hard. She said a great deal more in favour of the respectability of the +Pickenses than she could assert from her own knowledge, dwelt with +compassion on their loneliness, and touched, though lightly, on the +favour to herself; both ladies knowing but too well that the claims to +gratitude were past counting. Mrs. Blake faltered, perhaps moved +somewhat by a wistful look, which through all doubts and excuses, would +rise in her daughter's eyes. As for Muriel's own little childish +objections, they were swept away by her patroness like so many cobwebs. +There was a gown ready and waiting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> for her, and Mrs. Reed would arrange +about her absence from school.</p> + +<p>"But, if I am bridesmaid, I ought to make her a present," she said at +last, "and I am afraid——"</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> need not matter," said her mother, loftily, "I will give her one +of my India China plates. That will be present enough for anybody; and I +have several left."</p> + +<p>This, Mrs. Reed correctly augured, was the preface to surrender; and she +walked Muriel off to call on Miss Webb, before any more objections +should arise.</p> + +<p>"Well!" cried that young lady at the first sight of her bridesmaid, +"Well! I beg your pardon, but you <i>are</i>—" and even Mrs. Pickens +regarded the young girl with languid admiration. Muriel Blake's golden +curls, and azure eyes, and roseate bloom flashed on the eye much as does +a cardinal flower in a wayside brook. No one could help noticing her +charms; but no one had ever gone farther than to notice them, and they +were about as useful in her daily duties as diamonds on the handle of a +dustpan. Minnie looked at her rather doubtfully for a moment; but her +good humour returned during the pleasing task of arraying the girl in +her costume, and she even insisted on Miss Blake's assuming the bridal +dress herself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure! What a bride you would make! You aren't engaged, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You ought to travel. You'd be sure to meet someone. Well, we'll take it +off. I'm glad I'm going to wear it, and not you. You look quite stunning +enough in the other."</p> + +<p>"It is lovely—too handsome for me."</p> + +<p>"I had a complete outfit made in Paris this spring, though I wasn't +engaged then; but I guessed I should be before the things went out of +fashion."</p> + +<p>"You knew Mr. MacJacobs very well then?"</p> + +<p>"No—oh, no. I'd never seen him. Ma was anxious I should marry a foreign +gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Does your mother live abroad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—that is, she's not my real mother. I never knew who my real father +and mother were. Ma wanted to adopt a little girl, and, she took me from +the Orphan Asylum at Detroit, because I had such lovely curls. They were +as light as yours, then, but they've grown dark, since. Is there +anything you put on yours to keep the colour?"</p> + +<p>"No—nothing."</p> + +<p>"Well, pa was very angry when he found out what ma had done. He didn't +want to adopt a child; but ma said she would, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> could, because +she had money of her own. But he was always real kind to me. They were +both very nice, only they would quarrel. Well, when I was sixteen, ma +said she would take me abroad to finish my education. We'd travelled so +much, I never had much chance to go to school. Pa said it was nonsense, +but she would go. But I didn't go to school there, either. We went to +Germany to look at one we'd heard of, and there a German gentleman, +Baron Von Krugenstern, proposed to me. He thought I was going to be +awfully rich. But when he found out how things really were, and that ma +had the money, he changed about and proposed to her. They are so fond of +money, those foreigners, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Did your father die while you were abroad?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no! He wasn't dead! He was over here, all right. But ma got a +divorce from him without any trouble. She and I and the Baron came over +and went to Dakota, and it was all arranged, and they were married in +six weeks. She got it for cruelty. I could testify I'd seen him throw +things at her. She used to throw them back again, but no one asked me +about that. Well, pa never heard about it till it was all over, and then +he was awfully mad; but I guess he didn't mind much, for he soon married +Aunt Delia, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> they always got along very pleasantly. I made them a +visit after they were married, and then I went abroad with ma and the +Baron. But pa told me if I wasn't happy there, I could come back any +time."</p> + +<p>"Were you happy there?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't say I was. They lived in an awfully skimpy way, in a flat, +three flights up, and no elevator. Baron Von Krugenstern didn't like +ma's having brought me, till pa died, and that made a change. Pa left +half his money to Aunt Delia, and the other half to me. Now, don't you +call that noble of him?"</p> + +<p>Muriel assented.</p> + +<p>"As soon as they found that out, the whole family were awfully polite to +me; they wanted me to marry his younger brother, Baron Stanislaus. But I +wrote to Aunt Delia; she'd married Uncle Perley by that time, and come +to Europe for a wedding tour. They were in Paris; and Uncle Perley was +very kind, and sent back word for me to come to them, and I set off all +alone; all the Von Krugensterns thought it was perfectly dreadful. I +bought my trousseau in Paris, for I hadn't quite decided I wouldn't have +Baron Stanislaus, after all. But Uncle Perley advised me strongly +against it; he said American husbands were a great deal the best, and I +conclude he was right.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> And then, on the voyage home, we met Mr. +MacJacobs."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you are very glad you came away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I am quite satisfied—quite. Baron Stanislaus was six feet +three and a half inches high; but I don't think height goes for so much +in a man; do you?"</p> + +<p>Muriel looked at the little nomad with some wonder, but without the +reprobation which might have been expected from a young person carefully +brought up under the teachings of the Reverend Richard Reed. She rather +regarded Minnie in the aspect of—to quote the hymn familiar to her +childhood—"a gypsy baby, taught to roam, and steal her daily bread;" +and no matter how carefully guarded the infant mind, the experiences of +the gypsy will kindle a flame of interest. She, too, like Mrs. Reed, +felt eager to see the end of the story.</p> + +<p>The wedding preparations went on apace. The tradesmen worked briskly, +for they had received information, on the application of some of the +doubting among them to Messrs. May & Maxwell, that Mr. Pickens's credit +was good for a million at least, not counting the very handsome banking +accounts of his two ladies. Miss Webb made all the arrangements<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> for her +bridal, as Mr. MacJacobs could not come till the evening before.</p> + +<p>"I only hope he'll come at all," carelessly suggested William +Winchester, one evening at the Parsonage.</p> + +<p>"Why! do you think there is any danger of his giving it up?" cried Mrs. +Reed, in consternation.</p> + +<p>"I rather begin to think that there is no such person. MacJacobs! What a +name! Can it possibly be real?"</p> + +<p>"The name has a goodly ring of wealth about it," said the parson. +"Scotch and Hebrew! 'tis a rich combination, indeed! Still, if it were +as you suggest, it is a comfort to know that the remedy is at hand. You +have done so much for them, Emma, my dear, that you cannot fail them +now. They will ask you to find some nice young man for a bridegroom, +rather than have the whole thing fall through, and I hope William is +prepared to see it in the proper light, and offer his services 'purely +to oblige you.'"</p> + +<p>"I shall have an answer ready," said William, coolly, "I shall say that +I am already bespoken."</p> + +<p>"And can you produce the proof? It will have to be a pretty convincing +one."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps in such an emergency I might find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> a <i>very</i> convincing one," +said William, with a glance at Muriel, who had been looking confused, +and who now coloured deeply. It was more with displeasure than distress; +but then it was, for the first time, that she struck him as being +something more than a merely pretty girl.</p> + +<p>MacJacobs, came, punctual to his time, a small but sprightly individual, +with plenty to say as a proof of his existence. He brought neat, if not +over-expensive, scarf-pins for his gentlemen attendants, and a bracelet +in corresponding style for Miss Blake. The wedding went off to general +admiration. The church was full, and if the company at the house was +scanty, there was no scarcity in the banquet. And when the feast was +over, and Mrs. MacJacobs, on the carriage-step, turned to take her last +farewell; while Muriel's handkerchief was ready in her hand, and the +Crocker boys were fumbling among the rice in their pockets, and William +Winchester himself was feeling in his for the old shoe—"I am sure," she +said, "it has gone off beautifully, and I shall never, never forget your +kindness, as long as I live! I <i>did</i> so want to have a pretty +wedding—such as I've read about!"</p> + +<p>If these last words roused dismal forebodings in the minds of the bridal +train, to be verified by a perusal of the next day's Boston papers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +they were forgiven as soon as they were uttered; for the light patter of +Minnie's voice died away in a quaver of genuine feeling; and a shower of +real tears threw for once a veil of sweetness over her little +inexpressive face.</p> + +<h4>THE END.</h4> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/ill_017.jpg" width="300" height="107" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BY ANNA FULLER.</h2> + +<h3>A LITERARY COURTSHIP.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Under the auspices of Pike's Peak.</b> Printed on deckel edged paper, with illustrations. 22nd edition. 12°, gilt top</td><td align='right'>$1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"A delightful little love story. Like her other book it is bright and +breezy; its humor is crisp and the general idea decidedly original. It +is just the book to slip into the pocket for a journey, when one does +not care for a novel or serious reading."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p> + +<h3>A VENETIAN JUNE.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>Illustrated by George Sloane. Printed on deckel edged paper. 7th edition. 12°, gilt top</td><td align='right'>$1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"<i>A Venetian June</i> bespeaks its materials by its title, and very full +the little story is of the picturesqueness, the novelty, the beauty, of +life in the city of gondolas and gondoliers—a strong and able work, +showing seriousness of motive and strength of touch."—<i>Literary World.</i></p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>A <i>Venetian June</i> and <i>A Literary Courtship</i> are also put up as a set in a box. 2 vols</td><td align='right'>$2.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h3>PRATT PORTRAITS.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Sketched in a New England Suburb.</b> 10th edition. 16°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth</td><td align='right'>$1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>New edition, illustrated by George Sloane. 8°</td><td align='right'>$2.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"The lines the author cuts in her vignette are sharp and clear, but she +has, too, not alone the knack of color, but, what is rarer, the gift of +humor."—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + +<h3>PEAK AND PRAIRIE.</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><b>From a Colorado Sketch-book.</b> 3rd edition. 16°. With a frontispiece by Louis Loeb</td><td align='right'>$1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>"We may say that the jaded reader fagged with the strenuous art of the +passing hour, who chances to select this volume to cheer the hours, will +throw up his hat for sheer joy at having hit upon a book in which +morbidness and self-consciousness are conspicuous, by their +absence."—<i>New York Times.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE HUDSON LIBRARY</h2> + +<h4><i>Registered as Second-Class Matter.</i></h4> + +<p class="center">16°, paper, 50 cts.; 12°, cloth, $1.00 and $1.25.</p> + +<p>I. <b>Love and Shawl-Straps.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annette Lucile Noble</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Decidedly a success."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p></div> + +<p>II. <b>Miss Hurd: An Enigma.</b> By <span class="smcap">Anna Katharine Green</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Miss Hurd fulfils one's anticipations from start to finish. +She keeps you in a state of suspense which is positively +fascinating."—<i>Kansas Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>III. <b>How Thankful was Bewitched.</b> By <span class="smcap">J. K. Hosmer</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A picturesque romance charmingly told. The interest is both +historical and poetic."—<i>Independent.</i></p></div> + +<p>IV. <b>A Woman of Impulse.</b> By <span class="smcap">Justin Huntley McCarthy</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a book well worth reading, charmingly written, and +containing a most interesting collection of characters that +are just like life...."—<i>Chicago Journal.</i></p></div> + +<p>V. <b>Countess Bettina.</b> By <span class="smcap">Clinton Ross</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"There is a charm in stories of this kind, free from +sentimentality, and written only to entertain."—<i>Boston +Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>VI. <b>Her Majesty.</b> By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth K. Tompkins</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is written with a charming style, with grace and ease, +and very pretty unexpected turns of expression."—<span class="smcap">Droch</span>, in +<i>N. Y. Life</i>.</p></div> + +<p>VII. <b>God Forsaken</b>. By <span class="smcap">Frederic Breton</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A very clever book.... The characters are well and firmly +drawn."—<i>Liverpool Mercury.</i></p></div> + +<p>VIII. <b>An Island Princess.</b> By <span class="smcap">Theodore Gift</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A charming and often brilliant tale."—<i>Literary World.</i></p></div> + +<p>IX. <b>Elizabeth's Pretenders.</b> By <span class="smcap">Hamilton Aïdé</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a novel of character, of uncommon power and interest, +wholesome, humorous, and sensible in every +chapter."—<i>Bookman.</i></p></div> + +<p>X. <b>At Tuxter's.</b> By <span class="smcap">G. B. Burgin</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A very interesting story. The characters are particularly +well drawn."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>XI. <b>At Cherryfield Hall.</b> By <span class="smcap">Frederic H. Balfour</span> (Ross George Deering).</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This is a brilliantly-told tale, the constructive ingenuity +and literary excellence of which entitle the author to a +place of honor in the foremost rank of contemporary English +romancists."—<i>London Telegraph.</i></p></div> + +<p>XII. <b>The Crime of the Century.</b> By <span class="smcap">R. Ottolengui</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is one of the best-told stories of its kind we have +read, and the reader will not be able to guess its ending +easily."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>XIII. <b>The Things that Matter.</b> By <span class="smcap">Francis Gribble</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A very amusing novel, full of bright satire directed +against the New Woman and similar objects."—<i>London +Speaker.</i></p></div> + +<p>XIV. <b>The Heart of Life.</b> By <span class="smcap">W. H. Mallock</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Interesting, sometimes tender, and uniformly brilliant.... +People will read Mr. Mallock's 'Heart of Life,' for the +extraordinary brilliance with which he tells his +story."—<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + +<p>XV. <b>The Broken Ring.</b> By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth K. Tompkins</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A romance of war and love in royal life, pleasantly written +and cleverly composed for melodramatic effect in the +end."—<i>Independent.</i></p></div> + +<p>XVI. <b>The Strange Schemes of Randolph Mason.</b> By <span class="smcap">Melville D. Post</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This book is very entertaining and original ... ingeniously +constructed ... well worth reading."—<i>N. Y. Herald.</i></p></div> + +<p>XVII. <b>That Affair Next Door.</b> By <span class="smcap">Anna Katharine Green</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The success of this is something almost unprecedented. Its +startling ingenuity, sustained interest, and wonderful plot +shows that the author's hand has not lost its +cunning."—<i>Buffalo Inquirer.</i></p></div> + +<p>XVIII. <b>In the Crucible.</b> By <span class="smcap">Grace Denio Litchfield</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The reader will find in this book bright, breezy talk, and +a more than ordinary insight into the possibilities of human +character."—<i>Cambridge Tribune.</i></p></div> + +<p>XIX. <b>Eyes Like the Sea.</b> By <span class="smcap">Maurus Jókai</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A strikingly original and powerful story."—<i>London +Speaker.</i></p></div> + +<p>XX. <b>An Uncrowned King.</b> By <span class="smcap">S. C. Grier</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Original and uncommonly interesting."—<i>Scotsman.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXI. <b>The Professor's Dilemma.</b> By <span class="smcap">A. L. Noble</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A bright, entertaining novel ... fresh, piquant, and well +told."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXII. <b>The Ways of Life.</b> Two Stories. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Oliphant</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"As a work of art we can praise the story without +reserve."—<i>London Spectator.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXIII. <b>The Man of the Family.</b> By <span class="smcap">Christian Reid</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A Southern story of romantic and thrilling +interest."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXIV. <b>Margot.</b> By <span class="smcap">Sidney Pickering</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We have nothing but praise for this excellently written +novel."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXV. <b>The Fall of the Sparrow.</b> By <span class="smcap">M. C. Balfour</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A book to be enjoyed ... of unlagging interest and original +in conception."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXVI. <b>Elementary Jane.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard Pryce</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A heartfelt, sincere, beautiful love story, told with +infinite humor."—<i>Chicago Times-Herald.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXVII. <b>The Man of Last Resort.</b> By <span class="smcap">Melville D. Post</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The author makes a strong plea for moral responsibility in +his work, and his vivid style and undeniable earnestness +must carry great weight with all thinking readers. It is a +notable book."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>XXVIII. <b>The Confession of Stephen Whapshare.</b> By <span class="smcap">Emma Brooke</span>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>In preparation:</i></p></div> + +<p>XXIX. <b>The Chase of an Heiress.</b> By <span class="smcap">Christian Reid</span>.</p> + +<p>XXX. <b>Lost Man's Lane.</b> By <span class="smcap">Anna Katharine Green</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE UNIVERSITY SERIES</h2> + +<p>I. <b>Harvard Stories.</b> Sketches of the Undergraduate. By <span class="smcap">W. K. Post</span>. +Fifteenth edition. 12°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Not since the days of <i>Hammersmith</i> have we had such a +vivid picture of college life as Mr. W. K. Post has given us +in this book. Unpretentious, in their style, the stories are +mere sketches, yet withal the tone is so genuine, the local +color so truly 'crimson,' as to make the book one of +unfailing interest."—<i>Literary World.</i></p></div> + +<p>II. <b>Pale Yarns.</b> By <span class="smcap">J. S. Wood</span>. Fifth edition. Illustrated, 12°, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A bright, realistic picture of college life, told in an +easy conversational, or descriptive style, and cannot fail +to genuinely interest the reader who has the slightest +appreciation of humor. The volume is illustrated and is just +the book for an idle or a lonely hour."—<i>Los Angeles +Times.</i></p></div> + +<p>III. <b>The Babe, B.A.</b> Stories of Life at Cambridge University. By <span class="smcap">Edw. F. +Benson</span>. Illustrated, 12°, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The story tells of the every-day life of a young man called +the Babe.... Cleverly written and one of the best this +author has written."—<i>Leader</i>, New Haven.</p></div> + +<p>IV. <b>A Princetonian.</b> A Story of Undergraduate Life at the College of New +Jersey. By <span class="smcap">James Barnes</span>. Illustrated, 12°, $1.25.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is fresh, hearty, sensible, and readable, leaving a good +impression of college life upon the mind."—<i>Baltimore Sun.</i></p></div> + +<h3>BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN</h3> + +<p><b>The Leavenworth Case.</b> A Lawyer's Story. 4°, paper, 20 cts.; 16°, paper, +50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"She has worked up a <i>cause celèbre</i> with a fertility of +device and ingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie +Collins or Edgar Allan Poe."—<i>Christian Union.</i></p> + +<p>".... Told with a force and power that indicate great +dramatic talent in the writer."—<i>St. Louis Post.</i></p></div> + +<p><b>Hand and Ring.</b> Popular edition. 4°, paper, 20 cts.; 16°, paper, +illustrated, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The best, most intricate, most perfectly constructed, and +most fascinating detective story ever written."—<i>Utica +Herald.</i></p></div> + +<p><b>Marked "Personal."</b> 16°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a tribute to the author's genius that she never tires +and never loses her readers. It moves on, clean and healthy, +and ends without raising images or making impressions which +have to be forgotten."—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p></div> + +<p><b>That Affair Next Door.</b> Hudson Library, No. 17. Seventh edition. 12°, +paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Other works by Anna Katharine Green are as follows: "A +Strange Disappearance," "The Sword of Damocles," "The Mill +Mystery," "Behind Closed Doors," "X. Y. Z.," "7 to 12," "The +Old Stone House," "Cynthia Wakeham's Money," "The Doctor, +His Wife, and the Clock," "Dr. Izard."</p></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, <span class="smcap">New York and London</span>.</h4> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Boston Neighbours In Town and Out, by +Agnes Blake Poor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 36196-h.htm or 36196-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/9/36196/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Boston Neighbours In Town and Out + +Author: Agnes Blake Poor + +Release Date: May 22, 2011 [EBook #36196] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "HE TOOK OUT HIS EYEGLASS TO STUDY IT."] + + + + +BOSTON NEIGHBOURS +IN TOWN AND OUT + +BY AGNES BLAKE POOR + +[Illustration] + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS +NEW YORK AND LONDON +The Knickerbocker Press +1898 + + +COPYRIGHT, 1898 +BY +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + OUR TOLSTOI CLUB 1 + A LITTLE FOOL 41 + WHY I MARRIED ELEANOR 83 + THE STORY OF A WALL-FLOWER 123 + POOR MR. PONSONBY 187 + MODERN VENGEANCE 239 + THREE CUPS OF TEA 274 + THE TRAMPS' WEDDING 300 + + * * * * * + +The author and the publishers desire to make acknowledgment to the +publishers of the _Century Magazine_ and of the _New England Magazine_ +for their courtesy in permitting the re-issue of certain stories which +were originally published in these periodicals. + + + + +[Illustration] + +OUR TOLSTOI CLUB + + +I should be glad to tell a story if I only knew one, but I don't. Some +people say that one experience is as interesting as another, and that +any real life is worth hearing about; but I think it must make some +little difference who the person is. But if I really must tell one, and +since you all have told yours, and such nice ones, and anything is +better than nothing when we are kept in all the morning by a pouring +rain, with nothing to do, because we came only for a week, and did not +expect it to rain, I will try and tell you about our Tolstoi Club, +because that was rather like a story--at least it might have been like +one if things had turned out a little differently. + +You know I live in a suburb of Boston, and a very charming, delightful +one it is. I cannot call it by its real name, because I am going to be +so very personal; so I will call it "Babyland," which indeed people +often do in fun. There never was such a place for children. The +population is mostly under seven years old, for it was about seven years +ago that young married people began to move into it in such numbers, +because it is so healthy; but it was always a great place for them even +when it was small. The old inhabitants are mostly grandfathers and +grandmothers now, and enjoy it very much; but they usually go into town +in the winter, with such unmarried children as they have left, to get a +little change; for there is no denying that there is a sameness about +it--the sidewalks are crowded with perambulators every pleasant day, and +at our parties the talk is apt to run too much on nursery-maids, and +milkmen and their cows, and drains, to be very interesting to those who +have not learned how terribly important such things are. So in winter +we--I mean the young married couples, of whom I am half a one--are left +pretty much to our own devices. + +Though we are all so devoted to our infant families, we are not so much +so as to give up all rational pleasures or intellectual tastes; we could +not live so near Boston, you know, and do that. Our husbands go into +town every day to make money, and we go in every few days to spend it, +and in the evenings, if they are not too tired, we sometimes make them +take us in to the theatres and concerts. We all have a very nice social +circle, for Babyland is fashionable as well as respectable, and we are +asked out more or less, and go out; but for real enjoyment we like our +own clubs and classes the best. We feel so safe going round in the +neighbourhood, because we are so near the children, and can be called +home any time if necessary. There is our little evening dancing-club, +which meets round at one another's houses, where we all exchange +husbands--a kind of grown-up "puss-in-the-corner"; only, as the supply +of dancing husbands is not quite equal to that of wives, we have to get +a young man or two in if we can; and for the same reason we don't ask +any girls, who, indeed, are not very eager to come. Then there is the +musical club, and the sketching-club, and we have a great many morning +clubs for the women alone, where we bring our work (and it is splendid +to get so much time to sew), and read, or are read to, and then talk +over things. Sometimes we stay to lunch, and sometimes not; and we would +have an essay club, only we have no time to write the papers. + +Now, many of these clubs meet chiefly at Minnie Mason's--Mrs. Sydney +Mason's. She gets them up, and is president: you see, she has more time, +because she has no children--the only woman in Babyland who hasn't, and +I don't doubt she feels dreadfully about it. She is not strong, and has +to lie on the sofa most of the time, and that is another reason why we +meet there so often; and then she lives right in the midst of us all, +and so close to the road that we can all of us watch our children, when +they are out for their airings, very conveniently. Minnie is very kind +and sympathetic, and takes such an interest in all our affairs, and if +she is somewhat inclined to gossip about them, poor dear, it is very +natural, when she has so few of her own to think about. + +Well, in the autumn before last, Minnie said we must get up a Tolstoi +Club; she said the Russians were the coming race, and Tolstoi was their +greatest writer, and the most Christian of moralists (at least she had +read so), and that everybody was talking about him, and we should be +behindhand if we could not. So we turned one of our clubs, which had +nothing particular on hand just then, into one; and, besides Tolstoi, we +read other Russian novelists, Turgenieff and--that man whose name is so +hard to pronounce, who writes all about convicts and--and other +criminals. We did not read them all, for they are very long, and we can +never get through anything long; but we hired a very nice lady +"skimmer," who ran through them, and told us the plots, and all about +the authors, and read us bits. I forget a good deal, but I remember she +said that Tolstoi was the supreme realist, and that all previous +novelists were romancers and idealists, and that he drew life just as it +was, and nobody else had ever done anything like it, except indeed the +other Russians; and then we discussed. In discussion we are very apt to +stray off to other topics, but that day I remember Bessie Milliken +saying that the Russians seemed very queer people; she supposed that if +every one said these authors were so true to life, they must be, but she +had never known such an extraordinary state of things. Just as soon as +ever people were married--if they married at all--they seemed wild to +make love to some one else, or have some one else make love to them. + +"They don't seem to do so here," said Fanny Deane. + +"_We_ certainly do not," said Blanche Livermore. "I think the reason +must be that we have no time. I have scarcely time to see anything of my +own husband, much less to fall in love with any one else's." + +We all laughed, but we felt that it was odd. In Babyland all went on in +an orderly and respectable fashion. The gayest girls, the fastest young +men, as soon as they were married and settled there, subsided at once +into quiet, domestic ways. At our dances each of us secretly thought +her own husband the most interesting person present, and he returned the +compliment, and after a peaceful evening of passing them about we were +always very thankful to get them back to go home with. Were we, then, so +unlike the rest of humanity? + +"Are we sure?" asked Minnie Mason, always prone to speculation. "It is +not likely that we are utterly different from the rest of the world. Who +knows what dark tragedies lie hidden in the recesses of the heart? Who +knows all her neighbour's secret history?" This was being rather +personal, but no one took it home, for we never minded what Minnie said; +and as many of the club were, as always occurred, detained at home by +domestic duties, we thought it might apply to one of them. But I can't +deny that we, and especially Minnie, who had a relish for what was +sensational, and was pleased to find that realistic fiction, which she +had always thought must be dull, was really exciting, felt a little +ashamed at our being so behind the age--"provincial," as Mr. James would +call it; "obsolete," as Mr. Howells is fond of saying--at Babyland as +not to have the ghost of a scandal among us. None of us wished to give +cause for the scandal ourselves; but I think we might not have been as +sorry as we ought to be if one of our neighbours had been obliging +enough to do so. We did not want anything very bad, you know. Of course +none of us could ever have dreamed of running away with a fascinating +young man--like Anna Karenina--because in the first place we all liked +our husbands, and in the next place, who could be depended upon to go +into town to do the marketing, and to see that the children wore their +india-rubbers on wet days? But anything short of that we felt we could +bear with equanimity. + +That same fall we were excited, though only in our usual harmless, +innocent way, by hearing that the old Grahame house was sold, and +pleased--though no more than was proper--that it was sold to the +Williamses. It was a pretty, old farm-house which had been improved upon +and enlarged, and had for many years been to let; and being as +inconvenient as it was pretty, it was always changing its tenants, whom +we despised as transients, and seldom called upon. But now it was +bought, and by none of your new people, who, we began to think, were +getting too common in Babyland. We all knew Willie Williams: all the men +were his old friends, and all the women had danced with him, and liked +him, and flirted with him; but I don't think it ever went deeper, for +somehow all the girls had a way of laughing at him, though he was a +handsome fellow, and had plenty of money, and was very well behaved, +and clever too in his way; but we could not help thinking him silly. For +one thing, he would be an artist, though you never saw such dreadful +daubs as all his pictures were. It was a mercy he did not have to live +by them, for he never sold any; he gave them away to his friends, and +Blanche Livermore said that was why he had so many friends, for of +course he could not work off more than one apiece on them. He was very +popular with all the other artists, for he was the kindest-hearted +creature, and always helped those who were poor, and admired those who +were great; and they never had anything to say against him, though they +could not get out anything more in his praise than that he was "careful +and conscientious in his work," which was very likely true. Then he was +vain; at least he liked his own good looks, and, being aesthetic in his +tastes, chose to display them to advantage by his attire. He wore his +hair, which was very light, long, and was seldom seen in anything less +fanciful than a boating-suit, or a bicycle-suit, though he was not given +to either exercise, but wanted an excuse for a blouse, and +knee-breeches, and tights, and a soft hat--and these were all of a more +startling pattern than other people's; while as to the velvet +painting-jackets and brocade dressing-gowns, in which he indulged in +his studio, I can only say that they made him a far more picturesque +figure than any in his pictures. It was a shame to waste such materials +on a man. Then he lisped when he was at all excited, which he often was; +and he had odd ways of walking, and standing, and sitting, which looked +affected, though I really don't think they were. + +He made enthusiastic, but very brief, love to all of us in turn. I don't +know whether any of us could have had him; if one could, all could; but, +supposing we could, I don't believe any of us would have had the courage +to venture on Willie Williams. But we expected that his marriage would +be romantic and exciting, and his wedding something out of the common. +Opinions were divided as to whether his ardent love-making would induce +some lovely young Italian or Spanish girl of rank to run away from a +convent with him, or whether he would rashly take up with some artist's +model, or goose-girl, or beggar-maid. We were much disappointed when, +after all, he married in the most commonplace manner a very ordinary +girl named Loulie Latham. + +We all knew Loulie too; she went to school at Miss Woodberry's, in the +class next below mine; and she was a nice girl, and we all liked her +well enough, but there never was a girl who had less in her. She was not +bad-looking, but no beauty; not at all the kind of looks to attract an +artist. Blanche Livermore said that he might have married her for her +red hair if only there had been more of it. The Lathams were very well +connected, and knew everybody, and she went about with the other girls, +and had a fair show of attention at parties; but she never had friends +or lovers. She had not much chance to have any, indeed, for she married +very young. + +She was a very shy, quiet girl, and I used to think that perhaps it was +because she was so overcrowed by her mother. Mrs. Latham was a large, +striking-looking if not exactly handsome, lady-like though loud, woman, +who talked a great deal about everything. She was clever, but eccentric, +and took up all manner of fads and fancies, and though she was a +thoroughly good woman, and well born and well bred, she did know the +very queerest people--always hand in glove with some new crank. Hygiene, +as she called it, was her pet hobby. Fortunately she had a particular +aversion to dosing; but she dieted her daughter and herself, which, I +fear, was nearly as bad. All her bread had husks in it, and she was +always discovering that it was hurtful to eat any butter or drink any +water, and no end of such notions. She dressed poor Loulie so +frightfully that it was enough to take all the courage out of a girl: +with all her dresses very short in the skirt, and big at the waist, and +cut high, even in the evening, and thick shoes very queerly shaped, made +after her own orders by some shoemaker of her own, and loose cotton +gloves, and a mushroom hat down over her eyes. Finally she took up the +mind-cure, and Loulie was to keep thinking all the time how perfectly +well she was, which, I think, was what made her so thin and pale. Mrs. +Latham always said that no one ever need be ill, and indeed she never +was herself, for she was found dead in her bed one morning without any +warning. + +This happened at Jackson, New Hampshire, where they were spending the +summer. Of course poor Loulie was half distracted with the shock and the +grief. There was no one in the house where they were whom she knew at +all, or who was very congenial, I fancy, and Willie Williams, whom they +knew slightly, was in the neighbourhood, sketching, and was very kind +and attentive, and more helpful than any one would ever have imagined he +could be. He saw to all the business, and telegraphed for some cousin or +other, and made the funeral arrangements; and the end of it was that in +three months he and Loulie Latham were married, and had sailed for +Europe on their wedding tour. + +This was ten years ago, and they had never come back till now. They +meant to come back sooner, but one thing after another prevented. They +had no children for several years, and they thought it a good chance to +poke around in the wildest parts of Southern Europe--Corsica, and +Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles, and all that--and made their winter +quarters at Palermo. Then for the next six years they lived in less +out-of-the-way places. They had four children, and lost two; and one +thing or another kept them abroad, until they suddenly made up their +minds to come home. + +We had not heard much of them while they were gone. Loulie had no one to +correspond with, and Willie, like most men, never wrote letters; but we +all were very curious to see them, and willing to welcome them, though +we did not know how much they were going to surprise us. Willie +Williams, indeed, was just the same as ever--in fact, our only surprise +in him was to see him look no older than when he went away; but as for +Mrs. Williams, she gave us quite a shock. For my part, I shall never +forget how taken aback I was, when, strolling down to the station one +afternoon with the children, with a vague idea of meeting Tom, who might +come on that train, but who didn't, I came suddenly upon a tall, +splendidly shaped, stately creature, in the most magnificent clothes; +at least they looked so, though they were all black, and the dress was +only cashmere, but it was draped in an entirely new way. She wore a +shoulder-cape embroidered in jet, and a large black hat and feather set +back over great masses of rich dark auburn hair; and, though so late in +the season, she carried a large black lace parasol. To be sure, it was +still very warm and pleasant. I never should have ventured to speak to +her, but she stopped at once, and said, "Perhaps you have forgotten me, +Mrs. White?" + +"No--oh, no," I said, trying not to seem confused; "Mrs.--Mrs. Williams, +I believe?" + +"You knew me better as Loulie Latham," she said pleasantly enough; but I +cannot say I liked her manner. There was something in it, though I could +not say what, that seemed like condescension, and she hardly mentioned +my children--and most people think them so pretty--though I saw her look +at them earnestly once or twice. + +Willie was the same good-hearted, hospitable fellow as ever, and begged +us to come in, and go all over his house, and see his studio that he had +built on, and his bric-a-brac. And a lovely house it was, full of +beautiful things, for he knew them, if he could not paint them, and +indeed he had a great talent for amateur carpentering. We wished he +would come to our houses and do little jobs to show his good-will, +instead of giving us his pictures; but we tried to say something nice +about them, and the frames were most elegant. Of course we saw a good +deal of Mrs. Williams, but I don't think any of us took to her. She was +very quiet, as she always had been, but with a difference. She was +perfectly polite, and I can't say she gave herself airs, exactly; but +there was something very like it in her seeming to be so well satisfied +with herself and her position, and caring so little whether she pleased +us or not. Of course we all invited them, and they accepted most of our +invitations when they were asked together, though she showed no great +eagerness to do so; but she would not join one of our morning clubs, and +had no reason to give. It could not be want of time, for we used to see +her dawdling about with her children all the morning, though we knew +that she had brought over an excellent, highly trained, Protestant North +German nurse for them. When we asked her to the dancing-class, she said +she never danced, and we had better not depend on her, but Mr. Williams +enjoyed it, and would be glad to come without her. We did not relish +this indifference, though it gave us an extra man, and Minnie Mason said +that it was not a good thing for a man to get into the way of going +about without his wife. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Williams, opening her great eyes with such an air +of utter ignorance that it was impossible to explain. It was easy to see +that she need not be afraid of trusting her husband out of her sight, +for a more devoted and admiring one I never saw, whether with her or +away from her talking of "Loulou" and her charms, as if sure of +sympathy. But we had our doubts as to how much she returned his +attachment, and Minnie said it was easy to see that she only tolerated +him; and we all thought her unappreciative, to say the least. He was +very much interested in her dress, and spent a great deal of time in +choosing and buying beautiful ornaments and laces and stuffs for her, +which she insisted on having made up in her own way, languidly remarking +that it was enough for Willie to make her a fright on canvas, without +doing so in real life. Blanche Livermore said she must have some +affection for him, to sit so much to him, for he had painted about a +hundred pictures of her in different styles, each one worse than the +last. You would have thought her hideous if you had only seen them; but +Willie's artist friends, some of them very distinguished, had painted +her too, and had made her into a regular beauty. Opinions differed about +her looks; but those who liked her the least had to allow that she was +fine-looking, though some said it was greatly owing to her style of +dress. We all called it shockingly conspicuous at first, and then went +home and tried to make our things look as much like hers as we possibly +could, which was very little; for, as we afterwards found out, they came +from a modiste at Paris who worked for only one or two private +customers, and whose costumes had a kind of combination of the +fashionable and the artistic which it seemed impossible for any one here +to hit. We used to wonder how poor Mrs. Latham would feel, could she +rise from her grave, to behold her daughter's gowns, tight as a glove, +and in the evening low and long to a degree, her high-heeled French +shoes, and everything her mother had thought most sinful. Her hair had +grown a deeper, richer shade abroad, and she had matched it to +perfection, and one of Willie's pictures of her, with the real and false +all down her back together, looked like the burning bush. She was in +slight mourning for an old great-uncle who had left her a nice little +sum of money; and we thought, if she were so inimitable now, what would +she be when she put on colours? + +We did better in modelling our children's clothes after hers, and I must +say she was very good-natured about lending us her patterns. She had a +boy and girl, beautiful little creatures, but they looked rather +delicate, which she did not seem to realise at all; she was very amiable +in her ways to them, but cool, just as she was to their father. + +It must be confessed that we spent a great deal of time at our clubs in +discussing her, especially at the Tolstoi Club; for, as Minnie remarked, +she seemed very much in the Russian style, and it was not disagreeable, +after all, to think that we might have such a "type," as they call it, +among us. + +Just as we had begun to get accustomed to Mrs. Williams's dresses, and +her beauty, and her nonchalance, and held up our heads again, she +knocked us all over with another ten-strike. It was after a little +dinner given for them at the Millikens', and a good many people had +dropped in afterward, as they were apt to do after our little dinners, +to which of course we could not ask all our set, however intimate. Mrs. +Reynolds had come out from Boston, and as she was by way of being very +musical, though she never performed, she eagerly asked Willie Williams, +when he mentioned having lived so long in Sicily, whether he had ever +seen Giudotti, the great composer, who had retired to the seclusion of +his native island in disgust with the world, which he thought was going, +musically speaking, to ruin. We listened respectfully, for most of us +did not remember hearing of the great Giudotti, but Willie replied +coolly: + +"Oh, yes; we met him often; he was my wife's teacher. Loulou, I wish you +would sing that little thing of Mickiewicz, '_Panicz i Dziewczyna_,' +which Giudotti set for you." + +Loulie was leaning back on a sofa across the room, lazily swaying her +big black lace fan. She had on a lovely gown of real black Spanish lace, +and a great bunch of yellow roses on her bosom, which you would not have +thought would have looked well with her red hair; but they suited her +"Venetian colouring," as her husband called it-- + + "Ni blanche ni cuivree, mais doree + D'un rayon de soleil." + +Willie's strong point, or his weak point, as you may consider it, was in +quotations. She did not seem any too well pleased with the request, and +replied that she hardly thought people would care to hear any music; it +seemed a pity to stop the conversation--for all but herself were +chattering as fast as they could. But of course we all caught at the +idea, and the hostess was pressing, and after every mortal in the room +had entreated her, she rose, still reluctantly, and walked across the +room to the piano, saying that she hoped they really would not mind the +interruption. + +It sounded fine to have something specially composed for her, but we +were accustomed to hear Fanny Deane, the most musical one among us, sing +things set for her by her teacher--indeed, rather more than we could +have wished; and I thought now to hear something of the same sort--some +weak little melody all on a few notes, in a muffled little voice, with a +word or two, such as "weinend," or "veilchen," or "fruehling," or +"stella," or "bella," distinguishable here and there, according as she +sang in German or Italian. So you may imagine how I, as well as all the +rest, was struck when, without a single note of prelude, her deep, low +voice thrilled through the whole room: + + "Why so late in the wood, + Fair maid?" + +I never felt so lonely and eery in my life; and then in a moment the +wildly ringing music of the distant chase came, faint but growing nearer +all the time from the piano, while her voice rose sweeter and sadder +above it, till our pleasure grew more delicious as it almost melted into +pain. The adventures of the fair maid in the wood were, to say the +least, of a very compromising description; but we flattered ourselves +that our course of realistic fiction had made us less provincial and +old-fashioned, and we knew that nobody minded this sort of thing +abroad, especially the Russians, of whom we supposed Mickiewicz was one +till somewhat languidly set right by Mrs. Williams. + +After that her singing made a perfect sensation all about Boston, the +more because it was so hard to get her to sing. Her style was peculiar, +and was a good deal criticised by those who had never heard her. She +never sang anything any one else did--that is, anybody you might call +any one, for I have heard her sometimes sing something that had gone the +rounds of all the hand-organs, and make it sound new again; but many of +her songs were in manuscript, some composed for her by Giudotti, and +others old things that he had picked up for her--folk-songs, and +ballads, and such. She always accompanied herself, and never from any +notes, and very often differently for the same song. Sometimes she would +sing a whole verse through without playing a note, and then improvise +something between. She always sang in English, which we thought queer, +when she had lived so long abroad; but she said Giudotti had told her +always to use the language of her audience, and Willie, who had a pretty +turn for versifying, used to translate for her. We felt rather piqued +that she should ignore the fact that we too had studied languages, but +we all agreed that she knew how to set herself off, and indeed we +thought she carried her affectation beyond justifiable limits. She had +to be asked by every one in the room, and was always saying that it was +not worth hearing, and that she hoped people would tell her when they +had enough of it, though, indeed, she could rarely be induced to sing +more than twice. If her voice was praised, she said she had none; and +when she was asked to play, she would say she could not--she could only +accompany herself. A likely story--as if any one who could do that as +she could, could not play anything!--and we used to hear her, too, when +she was in her own house, with nobody there but her husband. As for him, +he overflowed with pride and delight in her music, and evidently much +more than pleased her, and sometimes he even made her blush--a thing she +rarely did--by his remarks, such as that if we really wanted to know how +Loulou could sing, we must hide in the nursery. It was while singing to +her baby, it appeared, that the great Giudotti had chanced to hear her, +and immediately implored the privilege of teaching her, for anything or +nothing. + +Minnie Mason said that it was impossible that a woman could sing like +that unless she had a history; and she spent much of her time and all of +her energy for several weeks in finding out what the history could be. +It was wonderful how ingeniously she put this and that together, until +one day at the club she told us the whole story, and we wondered that we +had never thought of it before. It seems that before Loulie Latham was +married there had been a love-affair between her and Walter Dana. It is +not known exactly how far it went, but her feelings were very much +involved. She was too young, poor thing, and too simple, to know that +Walter Dana was not at all a marrying man; he could not have afforded +it, if he had wanted to ever so much. He was the sort of young man, you +know, who never does manage to afford to marry, though in other respects +he seemed to get on well enough. He had passed down through several +generations of girls, and was now rather attentive, in a harmless, +general sort of way, to the married women, and came to our dances. + +"And then," said Minnie, "when he did not speak, and she was so suddenly +left alone, and nearly penniless, after her mother's death, and Willie +Williams was so much in love with her, and so pressing--though I don't +believe he was ever in love with her more than he was with a dozen other +girls, only the circumstances were such, you know, that he could hardly +help proposing, he's so generous and impulsive. But he is not exactly +the sort of man to fall in love with, and his oddities have evidently +worn upon her; and now she feels with bitter regret how different her +life might have been if she could have waited till her uncle left her +this money. Walter has got on better, and might be able to marry her +now, and she is young still--only twenty-nine. It is the wreck of two +lives, perhaps of three. Willie is most unsuspicious, but should he ever +find out----" + +We all shuddered with pleasurable horror at the thought that we were to +be spectators of a Russian novel in real life. + +"I have seen them together," went on Minnie, "and their tones and looks +were unmistakable. Surely you remember that Eliot Hall german he danced +with her, the winter before her mother's death--the only winter she ever +went into society; and I recollect now that he seemed very miserable +about something at the time of her marriage, only I never suspected why +then." + +"How very sad!" murmured Emmie Richards, a tender-hearted little thing. + +"It is sad," said Minnie, solemnly; "but love is a great and terrible +factor in life, and elective affinities are not to be judged by +conventional rules." + +For my own part, I thought Willie Williams a great deal nicer and more +attractive than Walter Dana, except, to be sure, that Walter did talk +and look like other people. Perhaps, I said, things were not quite so +bad as Minnie made them out. It was to be hoped that poor Loulie would +pause at the brink. A great many such stories, especially American ones, +never come to anything, except that the heroine lives on, pining, with a +blighted life; and I thought, if that were all, Willie was not the kind +of man who would mind it much. Very likely he would never know it. + +Blanche Livermore said the idea of a woman pining all her days was +nonsense. All girls had affairs, but after they were married the cares +of a family soon knocked them all out of their heads. To be sure, +Blanche's five boys were enough to knock anything out; but Minnie told +us all afterward, separately, in confidence, that it was a little +jealousy on her part, because she had been once rather smitten with +Walter Dana herself. This seemed very realistic; and I must say my own +observations confirmed the truth of Minnie's story. Mrs. Williams did +look at times conscious and disturbed. One night, too, Tom and I called +on them to make arrangements about some concert tickets. Willie welcomed +us in his usual cordial fashion, saying Loulou would be down directly; +and in ten minutes or so down she came, in one of her loveliest evening +dresses, white embroidered crape, with a string of large amber beads +round her throat. + +"I am afraid you are going out, Mrs. Williams; don't let us detain you." + +"Not at all," she said, with her usual indifference. "We are not going +anywhere. I was waiting upstairs to see the children tucked up in their +beds." + +It seemed like impropriety of behaviour in no slight degree to fag out +one's best clothes at home in that aimless way, but when in ten minutes +more Mr. Walter Dana walked in, her guilt was more plainly manifest, and +I shuddered to think what a tragedy was weaving round us. Only a day or +two after, I met her alone, near nightfall, hurrying toward her home, +and with something so odd about her whole air and manner that I stopped +short and asked, rather officiously perhaps, if Mr. Williams and the +children were well. + +"Oh, yes; very--very well, indeed!" she threw back, in a quick, defiant +tone, very unlike her usual self; and then, as I looked at her, I +perceived to my dismay, that she was crying bitterly. I felt so awkward +that I did not know what to say, and I stood staring, while she pulled +down her veil with a jerk, and hurried on. I could not help going into +Minnie's to ask her what she thought it could mean. Minnie, of course, +knew all about it. + +"She has been in here, and I have been giving her a piece of my mind. I +hope it will do her good. Crying, was she? I am very glad of it." + +"But, Minnie! how could you? how did you dare to? how did you begin?" I +asked in amazement, heightened by the disrespectful way in which Minnie +had dealt with elective affinities. + +"Oh, very easily. I began about her children, and said how very delicate +they looked, and that we all thought they needed a great deal of care." + +"But she does seem to take a great deal of care of them. She has them +with her most of the time." + +"Yes; that's just it. She always has them, because she wants to use them +for a cover. I am sure she takes them out in very unfit weather, and +keeps them out too long, just for a pretext to be strolling about with +him." + +"You certainly have more courage than I could muster up," I said. "What +else did you say?" + +"I did not say anything else out plainly; but I saw she understood +perfectly well what I meant." + +"I don't see how you ever dared to do it." + +"It is enough to make one do something to live next door to her as I do. +You know that Walter Dana has not been at either of the two last +dancing-classes. Well, it is just because he has been there, spending +the whole evening with her alone. I have been kept at home myself, and +have seen him with my own eyes going away before Mr. Williams gets home. +I can see their front gate from where I sit now, and the electric light +strikes full on every one who comes and goes." + +I thought this was about enough, but we were to have yet more positive +proof. One evening, soon after, we were all at the Jenkses'. It was a +large party, and the rooms were hot and crowded. The Williamses were +there, and Walter Dana; but he did not go near Loulie; he paid her no +more attention in company than anybody else--from motives of policy, +most probably--and she was even quieter than usual, and seemed weary and +depressed. Mrs. Jenks asked her to sing, and she refused with more than +her ordinary decision. "She would rather not sing to-night, if Mrs. +Jenks did not mind," and this refusal she repeated without variation. +But Mrs. Jenks did mind very much; she had asked some people from a +distance, on purpose to hear Mrs. Williams, and when she had implored in +vain, and made all her guests do so too, she finally, in despair, +directed herself to Mr. Williams, who seemed in very good spirits, as he +always did in company. It was enough for him to know that Professor +Perkins and Judge Wheelwright depended on hearing his wife, to rouse +his pride at once, and I heard him say to her coaxingly: + +"Come, Loulou, don't you think you could sing a little?" + +Loulou said something in so low a tone that I could not catch a word. + +"Yes, dear, I know; but I really don't think there's any reason for +it--and they have all come to hear you, and it seems disobliging not +to." + +Again Loulie's reply was inaudible, all but the last words, "Cannot get +through with it." + +"Oh, yes, you will. Come, darling, won't you? Just once, to oblige me. +It won't last long." + +Loulie still looked most unwilling, but she rose, more as if too tired +to contest the point than anything else, and walked over to the piano. +Her cheeks were burning, but I saw her shiver as she sat down. Her +husband followed her, looking a little anxious, and I wondered if they +had been having a scene. Surely the course of dissimulation she was +keeping up must have its inevitable effect on her nerves and temper, but +her voice rang out as thrilling and triumphant as ever. She sang an +English song to the old French air _Musette de Nina_. It was a silly, +sentimental thing, all about parted loves and hopeless regrets; but the +most foolish words used to sound grandly expressive as she gave them. +When she came to the last line, "The flowers of life will never bloom +more," at "never" her accompaniment stopped, her voice shook, struggled +with the next words, paused, and a look of despair transformed her whole +face. I followed the direction of her eyes, and caught sight of Walter +Dana, just visible in the doorway, and, like every other mortal in the +room, gazing on her in rapt attention. It was like looking on a soul in +torture, and we all shuddered as we saw it. What must it have been for +him? He grew crimson, and made an uneasy movement, which seemed to break +the spell; for, Loulie, rousing herself with an effort, struck a ringing +chord, and taking up the words on a lower note, carried them through to +the end, her voice gaining strength with the repetition that the air +demanded. No one asked her to sing again; and when she rose Walter Dana +had disappeared, and the Williamses left very soon afterward. + +Things had come to such a pass now that we most sincerely repented our +desire for a Tolstoi novel among us; and if this was life as it was in +Russia, we heartily wished it could be confined to that country. We felt +that something shocking was sure to happen soon, and so it did; but if +you go through with an earthquake, I am told, it never seems at all like +what you expected, and this came in a most unlooked-for way. It was on +a day when our Tolstoi Club met at Minnie Mason's, and she looked really +ill and miserable. She said she had enough to make her so; and when we +were all assembled, she asked one of us to shut all the doors, lest the +servants should hear us, and then took out, from a locked drawer in her +desk, a newspaper. It was the kind of paper that we had always regarded +as improper to buy, or even to look at, and we wondered how Minnie had +ever got hold of it; but she unfolded it nervously, and showed us a +marked passage: + + "It is rumoured that proceedings for a divorce will soon be + taken by a prominent Boston artist, whose lovely wife is + widely known in first-class musical circles. The + co-respondent is an old admirer of the lady's, as well as an + intimate friend of her husband's." + +We all read these words with horror, and Emmie Richards began to cry. + +"We ought to have done _something_ to prevent it," said Blanche, +decidedly. + +"What could we do?" said I. + +"Poor Willie hasn't a relation who could look after those children," +murmured Bessie Milliken. + +We all felt moved to offer our services upon the spot, but just then +there came a loud ring at the door-bell. We all started. It could not be +a belated member of the club, for we always walked right in. Minnie had +given orders, as usual, to be denied to any chance caller; but in a +moment the door opened, and the maid announced that Mr. Williams was in +the hall, and wished to see Mrs. Mason. + +"Ask Mr. Williams, Ellen, if he will please to leave a message; tell him +I am engaged with my Tolstoi Club." + +"I did, ma'am; but he says he wishes to see the club. He says it is on +very particular business, ma'am," as Minnie hesitated, and looked for +our opinion. Our amazement was so great that it deprived us of words, +and Minnie, after a moment, could only bow her head in silent +affirmation to the girl, who vanished directly. Could Mrs. Williams have +eloped, and had her husband rushed round to claim the sympathy of his +female friends, among whom were so many of his old flames? It was a most +eccentric proceeding, but we felt that if any man were capable of it, it +was poor Willie. But even this conjecture failed, and our very reason +seemed forsaking us, as Mr. Williams walked into the room, followed by +Mr. Walter Dana, who looked rather awkward on the occasion, while +Willie, on the contrary, was quite at his ease, and was faultlessly +dressed in a London walking-suit of the newest cut; for he had plenty of +such things, though he hated to wear them. He carried a large note-case +in his hand. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Mason," he began, "good-morning--" with a bow that +took us all in; and without an invitation, which Minnie was too confused +to give, he comfortably settled himself on a vacant chair, which +proceeding Mr. Dana imitated, though with much less self-assurance, +while his conductor, as he appeared to be, went on: "I beg your pardon +for disturbing you; but I am sorry to find that you have been giving +credence, if not circulation, to some very unpleasant and utterly false +rumours concerning my wife's character. I do not know, nor do I care to +know, how they originated, but I wish to put a stop to them; and as Mr. +Dana is the other person chiefly concerned in them, I have brought him +with me." + +I believe we felt as if we should like to sink into the earth; nay, it +seemed to me that we must have done so, and come out in China, where +everything is different. Willie Williams, without a lisp, without a +smile, grave as a judge, and talking like a lawyer opening a case--it +was a transformation to inspire any one with awe. He saw that we were +frightened, and proceeded in a milder tone, but one equally strange in +our ears. + +"Don't think I mean to blame you. I know women will talk, and I do not +believe any of you meant the least harm, or dreamed of things going as +far as they have. Indeed, Louise [!] attaches no importance to +it whatever. She says it is only idle gossip, and will die out if let +alone, and she did not wish me to take any notice of it; but I felt that +I must do so on my own account, if not on hers. I don't care what trash +gets into such journals as that," and he looked scornfully at the +unhappy newspaper, which we wished we had never touched with a pair of +tongs; "but I do not want our friends and neighbours to think more +meanly of me than I deserve, when I have it in my power to put a stop to +it at once. Mr. Dana, is it true that you and Mrs. Williams were ever in +love with each other?" + +"It is not," replied Mr. Dana, who began to take courage under the +skilful peroration of his chief. "I was never on any terms with Mrs. +Williams, when she was Miss Latham, but those of the very slightest, +and, of course, most respectful acquaintance. I don't believe we ever +exchanged a dozen words." + +"I believe you," murmured Blanche Livermore, who sat next to me, and +whose unruly tongue nothing could long subdue; and indeed we had none +of us supposed that Loulie Latham conducted her love-affairs by means of +conversation. + +"Did you dance the german with her at the Eliot Hall Assembly on January +4, 188-?" + +"I regret very much that I never had the pleasure of dancing the german +with Mrs. Williams. At the party to which you refer I danced with Miss +Wilmerding." + +We all remembered Alice Wilmerding and her red hair, just the shade of +Loulie Latham's, but which had not procured her an artist for a husband; +indeed, it had not procured any at all, for she was still single. + +"Neither," pursued Willie Williams, "is there any truth in the report +that Louise was obliged to marry me for a support. She had no need to do +so, being possessed of very sufficient means of her own, as I can show +by her bank-account at that date." + +How he had got hold of every scrap we had said to one another, and even +of all we had thought, we could not imagine then, but we afterward found +out that he had procured every item from the editor of that horrid +paper, under threats of instant personal and legal attack; and as to how +this person happened to know so much, I can only advise you not to say +or think anything you would be ashamed to have known while there are +such papers in existence. + +"The only reason that Loulou and I married each other," went on Loulou's +husband, "is that we loved each other; and we love each other now, if +possible, twice as much as we did then. If you think she does not care +for me because she is not demonstrative in company, you are mistaken. +She gives me as much proof of it as I want. We all have our +peculiarities, and I know I have a great many which she puts up with +better than most women would. Of course I don't expect her to be without +hers either; but they don't trouble me any more than mine do her, and, +besides, most of what has struck you as singular in her behaviour can be +easily explained. You have thought she was conceited about her music, +but it's no such thing; she has not an atom of conceit in her; indeed, +she thinks too humbly of herself. She has heard so much music of the +highest class that she thinks little of any drawing-room performance, +her own or anybody else's, and her reluctance to sing is genuine, for +she has a horror of being urged or complimented out of mere politeness. +You are not pleased, I hear" [_how_ could he know that?], "that she +refused to join all your clubs and classes; one reason was that she +really did not care to. Every one has a right to one's own taste; she +has met a great deal of artistic and literary society abroad, and has +become accustomed to live among people who are doing something; and it +is tedious to her to go about so much with people who are always talking +about things, as we are given to do here. She is really fond of hard +reading, as but few women are; and she likes better, for instance, to +stay at home and spend her time in reading Dante by herself in the +original, than to go to a club and hear him talked over, with a little +skimming from a translation interspersed. She dresses to please me and +herself, and not to be envied or admired; and if she has a fondness for +pretty clothes for their own sake, that is not surprising, when she had +so little chance to indulge it when she was a girl." + +Here he paused, and it was high time, for we were growing restive under +the catalogue of his wife's virtues; but in a moment he resumed. + +"There is another reason, too, why she has not been more sociable with +you all. You don't know how unhappy Loulou is about her children; but +you do know, perhaps, that we have lost two,"--here his voice faltered +slightly, with some faint suggestion of the Willie Williams of our old +acquaintance,--"and she is terribly afraid that the others will not live +to grow up. I don't think them as fragile as she does; but they do look +delicate, there's no denying it. We came home, and here, very much on +their account; but yours are all so healthy and blooming that it's +almost too much for poor Loulou sometimes, especially when people--" he +was considerate enough not to look at Minnie--"tell her that they look +poorly, and that she ought to be more careful of them. How can she be? +She is always with them--more than is good for her; but she has an idea +that they won't eat as much as they ought, or go to sleep when they +should, without her; and she never leaves them at lunch, which is, of +course, their dinner. I think she is a little morbid about them, but I +can't torment her to leave it off; and I hope, as they get older and +stronger, she'll be more cheerful. It is this that makes her out of +spirits sometimes, and not any foolish nonsense about being in love with +anybody else." + +"_Mon ane parle, et meme il parle bien!_" whispered the incorrigible +Blanche, and though I don't think it fair to call Willie Williams an ass +at any time, our surprise at his present fluency was nearly as great as +the prophet's. He seemed now to have made an end of what he wished to +say, but Mr. Dana, whose presence we had nearly forgotten, looked at him +meaningly, as if in request. + +"Oh, yes--I had forgotten--but it is only due to Mr. Dana to say that he +has been coming to my house a good deal lately on business. I would tell +you all about it, but it's rather private." But, humbled as we were, we +could not hear this without a protesting murmur, disclaiming all vulgar +curiosity. I did, indeed, wonder for a moment if he were painting +Walter's portrait; if he were, I did not think it strange that the +latter looked a little sheepish about it; but I afterward found out +through Tom that it concerned some good offices of them both for an old +friend in distress. "When he came to my house in the evening when I was +out, it was to meet another person, and Mrs. Williams, half the time, +never saw either of them. As to that song at Mrs. Jenks's party, which, +I hear, created so much comment, she was feeling very unhappy that night +because little Violet had a cold, and she thought she might have made a +mistake in trying to keep her out, and toughen her, as you do your +children here. Perhaps that heightened her expression; but as to +breaking down on the last line of the song, that effect was one of +Giudotti's lessons, and he taught her how to give that look. He always +said she had the making of a great tragic actress in her. She does try +to look at the wall," went on Willie, simply, "but it was so crowded +there that she could not, and Mr. Dana could not help standing in the +way of it. I think I have said all I need say--and I hope you won't mind +it or think I am very impertinent, but I couldn't bear to have this +thing going on; and I hope we shall all be as good friends as we were +before, and that it will all be very soon forgotten." And he bowed and +departed, followed by Mr. Dana, with alacrity. + +We were doubtful as to these happy results. We could all admire Willie +Williams for standing up so gallantly for his wife, but we did not like +her any the better for being so successfully stood up for, and we felt +that we could never forget the unpleasant sensation he had given us. It +took a long course of seeing him in his old shape and presentment among +us--working in the same flamboyant clothes, at paintings as execrable as +ever; with the same lisp, and the same trip and jerk, and the same easy +good nature, and trifling enthusiasms--to forget that he had ever +inspired us with actual fear, and might again, though he never has. We +came also, in course of time, to like Loulou better, though it was +rather galling to see how little she heeded the matter that cost us all +so much remorse; but she lost her reserve in great measure as her +children grew healthier and more like other people's. I think the +hatchet was fairly buried for good and all when, in another year, she +had another baby, a splendid boy weighing nine pounds and three +quarters, at whose birth more enthusiasm was manifested in Babyland than +on any similar occasion before, and who was loaded with the most +beautiful presents, one in particular from Minnie Mason, who was much +better, for her recovery of health dates from that sudden incursion into +our Tolstoi Club, and the shock it gave her. + +I should have said as to that, that after the men had left us Blanche +Livermore exclaimed, "Well, girls, I think we are pretty sufficiently +crushed!" + +This was generous of Blanche, when she was the only one among us who had +ever expressed any incredulity as to the "Russian novel," as we called +it. "The fact is," she went on, "I have come to the conclusion that we +have not yet advanced to the realistic period here; we are living in the +realms of the ideal; and, what is worse, I fear I am so benighted that I +like it best; don't you?" And, encouraged by an inarticulate but +affirmatory murmur from all of us, she proceeded: + +"Let us all agree to settle down contentedly behind the age in our +provinciality; and, that we may keep so, let us cut the realists in +fiction, and take up something they don't approve of. I vote that we +devote the rest of the season to a good thorough course of Walter +Scott!" + +And so we did. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +A LITTLE FOOL + + +"What, my dear Marian! And do you really and truly mean to say you +thought of taking the girl without going to ask her character!" + +"There are so many difficulties about it. You see, she lived last with +Mrs. Donald Craighead for two years, and that would be quite enough for +a character. They all went abroad in a great hurry on account of Mr. +Craighead's health, and Mrs. Craighead promised to give her one, but +forgot it, and she couldn't bear to bother them when they were all in +such trouble. I know myself that all that about them is true." + +"So do I; but that does not prove that she ever lived with them. Cannot +she refer to any of the family?" + +"No; she did nothing but laundry work there, and never saw any of their +friends, I fancy; but she does have a written character from the family +she lived with before them, very nice people in South Boston." + +"What's their name?" + +"I don't remember," said Miss Marian Carter, blushing, "but I have it +written down at home." + +"I should certainly go there, if I were you." + +"It is so far off, and I never went there in my life." + +"Well, you ought. It sounds very suspicious. Of course there are a few +nice people in South Boston; they have to live there because they own +factories and things, and have to be near them; but then, again, there +are such dreadful neighbourhoods there. Most likely she depends on your +not taking the trouble, and you will find the number she gave you over +some low grog-shop." + +"Oh, I should be so frightened! I really do not think I can go!" + +"You surely ought not to risk taking her without, and very likely have +her turn out an accomplice of burglars, like that Norah of mine, through +whom I lost so much silver." + +"I thought you had a character with her." + +"So I did, or I should not have taken her. I make it a principle not to. +It only shows how great the danger is with a character; without one it +amounts to a certainty." + +"She was such a nice-looking girl!" + +"That makes no difference. I always mistrust maids who look too nice. +They are sure to have some story, or scrape, or something, like that +Florence of mine, who looked so much of a lady, and turned out to be a +clergyman's daughter, and had run away from her husband--a most +respectable man. He came to the house after her, and gave no end of +trouble." + +"But this girl did not look at all like that; not a bit above her place, +but so neatly dressed, and with a plain, sensible way about her; and her +name is Drusilla Elms--such a quaint, old-fashioned, American-sounding +name, quite refreshing to hear." + +"It sounds very like an assumed name. The very worst woman I ever had +was named Bathsheba Fogg; she turned out to have been a chorus girl at +some low theatre, and must have picked it up from some farce or other." + +"Then you really think I ought to go to South Boston?" + +"I should do so in your place," replied Mrs. William Treadwell. + +This gave but scant encouragement, for Marian could not but feel that +the result of her friend's going and that of her own, might be very +different; and Mrs. Treadwell, as she watched her visitor off, smiled +good-humouredly, but pityingly. "Poor dear Marian! What a little fool +she is to swallow everything that she is told in that way! It is a +wonder that the Carters ever have a decent servant in their house." + +However much of a wonder it might be, it was still a fact; but it did +not occur to Marian, as she bent her way homeward, to revive her feeble +self-confidence, crushed flat by her friend's scorn, with any +recollection that such fearful tales as she had just heard were without +a parallel in her own experience. It is to be feared that she was a +little fool, though she kept her mother's house very well and carefully, +if, indeed, it were her mother's house. Nobody but the tax-gatherer knew +to whom it really belonged, and he forgot between each assessment. It +stood on Burroughs street, Jamaica Plain, a neighbourhood that still +boasts an air of dignified repose. It was without the charm of a really +old-fashioned house, or even such as may be possessed by a modern +imitation of one; indeed it bore the stamp of that unfortunate period +which may be called the middle age of American architecture, extending, +at a rough estimate, from 1820 to 1865; but it was a well-built house, +and looked, as at present inhabited, a pleasant abode enough, of +sufficient size to accommodate a numerous female flock--Marian's +grandmother and her great-aunt, her mother and her aunt, her widowed +sister and two children, a trained nurse who was treated as one of the +family, three servants, and Marian herself to make up the round dozen. +The grandmother had lost the use of her limbs, and the great-aunt that +of her mind; the mother and the trained nurse were devoted to them, and +the aunt to philanthropic objects, and the sister to her children; so +the housekeeper's duties devolved on Marian, though she was still but a +child in her elders' eyes, and were well discharged, as they all +allowed, though qualifying their praise with the remark that it was +"easy enough to keep a house without a man in it." + +As Marian Carter passed along bustling, suburban Centre Street, she +looked a very flower of the Western world of feminine liberty; fine and +fair, free and fearless, coming and going at her own pleasure, on foot +or by the horse-cars, those levellers of privilege; no duenna to track +her steps, no yashmak or veil to hide her charms. Yet the fact was that +she knew less of men than if she had lived in a harem or a convent. She +had no sultan, no father confessor. She could not, like Miss Pole of +Cranford memory, claim to know the other sex by virtue of her father +having been a man, for Marian's father had died before she was born. Her +sister Isabel and she had had friends, and had gone into society in a +mild way, and being pretty girls, had met with a little general +attention, but nothing ever came of it. The family never entertained, +except now and then an old friend to tea, their means and opportunity +being small; nor could young men venture to call. The grandmother had +been a great invalid before she lost the use of her limbs, and the +great-aunt a formidable person before she lost that of her mind, while +Aunt Caroline from her youth upward had developed a great distaste for +the society of men, even when viewed as objects of philanthropy. + +When Isabel was four and twenty she went to New York to visit some +cousins, and though they lived very quietly, she made the acquaintance +of a young civil engineer, at home on a vacation from his work in the +United States of Colombia, who had married and borne her off after the +briefest possible courtship, never to see her old home again till she +came back, ten years after, a widow with two children, to eke out her +small means by the shelter of the family abode. I cannot delay the +humiliating confession, postponed as long as may be for the sake of the +artistic unity of my picture, that the youngest of these children was a +boy, if, as his mother was wont to plead, "a very little one." He was +dressed in as unboyish a fashion as possible, and being christened +Winthrop, was always called Winnie. He was a quiet, gentle child, kept +down by his position; but though thus made the best of, he was felt to +be an inconvenience and an encumbrance, if not now, certainly in the +future. There was no end to the trouble it would make when Winnie grew +older, and required a room to himself, and would be obliged to go to a +boys' school, which might even lead up to the direful contingency of his +"bringing home other boys." + +After Isabel's departure, Marian, though the prettier of the two, found +it dull to go about alone. No one asked her to New York; the cousin had +died, and the cousin's husband had married again; and when she grew past +the dancing age, perhaps earlier than she need, she went nowhere where +she had any chance of meeting any men but the husbands of one or two +married friends, and she was such a little fool that she fancied they +despised her for being an old maid. She knew she was five-and-thirty on +her last birthday, and was foolish enough to be afraid and ashamed of +owning to it. She need not have done so, for she did not look a day +older than twenty-five; but the memories of her contemporaries were +pitiless. + +She enjoyed her housekeeping, which gave her life some object, and her +intercourse with her butcher, a fine young fellow who admired her +hugely, was the nearest approach to a love-affair in which she had ever +indulged, so much sentiment did he contrive to throw about the legs of +mutton and the Sunday roast. Though honestly thinking herself happy, +and her position a fortunate one, she relished a change, which seldom +came, and was glad of the prospect of a visit to South Boston, now that +she could conscientiously say she ought to go since Emma Treadwell had +ordered it. The excitement of going off the beaten track was heightened +by the mystery which invested the affair. Marian had not dared to +confess to her managing friend that the "written character" to which she +referred had struck her rather oddly when the neat, civil, young, but +not too young woman whose appearance had so favourably impressed her had +handed it to her with an air which seemed to indicate that nothing more +need be said on the subject, although it only said, "Drusilla Elms +refers by permission to ---- Hayward, City Point, South Boston," in a +great, scrawling, masculine-looking hand. The name was easy enough to +read, a painful effort having evidently been made to write thus much +legibly; but the title, be it Mr., Mrs., or Miss, was so utterly +unreadable that Marian, who dreaded, like most timid people, to put a +direct question, ventured upon an indirect one: + +"Is--Mr. Hayward a widower?" + +"Oh, dear, no, ma'am!" replied Drusilla, emphatically. + +"And--they--still live there?" + +"Oh, dear, yes, ma'am!" + +Marian was very glad that the Saturday she chose for her expedition was +Aunt Caroline's day for the Women's and Children's Hospital, and that +Isabel had taken Minna and Winnie for a holiday trip into town to see +the Art Museum, which left fewer people at home to whom to explain her +errand, and to whose comments to reply. Mrs. Carter said it was silly to +go so far, and if she couldn't be satisfied to take the girl without, +she had better find some one near by. The trained nurse, who was slowly +but surely getting the whole household under her control, said that Miss +Carter's beautiful new spring suit would be ruined going all the way to +South Boston in the horse-cars; and Mrs. Carter, who would never have +thought of this herself, seconded her. Marian did not argue the point, +but she wore the dress nevertheless. She never felt that anything she +wore made any impression on any one she knew, but she could not help +fancying that if she had the chance she might impress strangers. No one +she knew ever called her pretty, and perhaps five-and-thirty was too old +to be thought so; and yet, if there was any meaning in the word, it +might surely be applied to the soft, shady darkness of her hair and +eyes, and the delicate bloom of her cheeks and lips, set off by that +silver-grey costume, with its own skilfully blended lights and shades of +silk and cashmere, and the purple and white lilacs that were wreathed +together on her small bonnet. She made a bad beginning, for while still +enjoying the effect of her graceful draperies as she entered the +horse-car for Boston, she carelessly caught the handle of her nice grey +silk sunshade in the door, and snapped it short in the middle. She could +have cried, though the man who always mended their umbrellas assured +her, with a bow and smile, that it should be mended, when she called for +it on her way back, "so that she would never know it;" but it deprived +her costume of the finishing touch, and she really needed it on this +warm sunny day; then, it was a bad omen, and she was foolish enough to +believe in omens. Her disturbance prevented her from observing much of +the route after she had drifted into a car for South Boston, and had +assured herself that it was the right one. Perhaps this was as well, as +the first part of the way was sufficiently uninviting to have frightened +her out of her intention had she looked about her. When at last she did, +they were passing along a wide street lined with sufficiently +substantial brick buildings, chiefly devoted to business, crossed by +narrower ones of small wooden houses more or less respectable in +appearance; but surely no housemaid who would suit them could ever have +served in one of these. Great rattling drays squeezed past the car, and +Chinese laundrymen noiselessly got in and out. The one landmark she had +heard of in South Boston, and for aught she knew the reason of its +existence, was the Perkins Institution for the Blind, which her Aunt +Caroline sometimes visited. But she passed the Institution, and still +went on and on. That the world extended so far in that direction was an +amazement in itself; she knew that there must be something there to fill +up, but she had had a vague idea that it might be water, which is so +accommodating in filling up the waste spaces of the terrestrial globe. +Finally the now nearly empty car came to a full stop at the foot of a +hill, the track winding off around it, and the conductor, of whom she +had asked her way, approached her with the patronising deference which +men in his position were very apt to assume to her: "Lady, you'll have +to get out here, and walk up the hill. Keep straight ahead, and you +can't miss it." + +"And can I take the car here when I come back?" asked Marian, clinging +as if to an ark of refuge. + +"Oh, yes," said the man, encouragingly; "we're along every ten minutes. +It ain't far off." + +Marian slowly touched one little foot, and then another, to the unknown +and almost foreign soil of South Boston. She looked wistfully after the +car till it turned a corner, and left her stranded, before she began +slowly to climb the hill. It was warm, and she missed her sunshade. "I +shall be shockingly burned!" she thought. She looked about her, and +acknowledged that the street was a pleasant, sunny one, and that its +commonplace architecture gained in picturesqueness by its steep ascent. +As she neared the top the houses grew larger, scattered among garden +grounds, and she at last found the number she looked for on the +gate-post of one of the largest. She walked up a brick-paved path to the +front door between thick box borders, inclosing beds none too well +weeded, but whose bowery shrubs and great clumps of old-fashioned bulbs +and perennials had acquired the secure possession of the soil that comes +with age. Behind them were grape-vines trained on trellises, over which +rose the blossoming heads of tall old cherry-trees, and through the +interstices in the flowery wall might be caught glimpses of an old +garden where grass and flowers and vegetables mingled at haphazard. It +dated from the days when people planted gardens with a view to what they +could get out of them, regardless of effect; and the house, in like +manner, had been built to live in rather than to look at. No one could +say how it had looked before trees had shaded it and creepers enveloped +it so completely. The veranda which ran around it was well sheltered +from the street, fortunately, thought Marian, for the bamboo chairs and +sofas, piled up with rugs and cushions, with which it was crowded, were +heaped with newspapers, and hats, and tennis-rackets, and riding-whips, +and garden-tools, and baskets, tossed carelessly about. On the door-mat +lay a large dog, who flopped his tail up and down with languid courtesy +as she approached. She was terribly afraid of him, but thought it safer +to face him than to turn her back upon him, and edging by him, gave a +feeble ring at the door-bell. No one came. She rang again with more +energy, and then, after a brief pause, the door was opened by a +half-grown boy. + +Marian only knew a very few families who aspired to have their doors +opened by anything more than a parlour-maid, and these had butlers of +unimpeachable respectability. But this young person had a bright, but +roguish look, which accorded better with the page of farce than with one +of real life. He seemed surprised to see her, though he bowed civilly. + +"Is Mrs. Hayward at home?" asked Marian, in the most dulcet of small +voices; and as he looked at her with a stare that seemed as if it might +develop into a grin, she added, "or any of the ladies of the family? I +only wish to see one of them on business." + +"Walk in, please, ma'am, and I'll see," faltered the porter, appearing +perplexed; and he opened the door, and ushered Marian across a wide hall +with a great, old-fashioned staircase at the further end--a place that +would have had no end of capabilities about it in a modern decorator's +eyes, but which looked now rather bare and unfurnished, save for pegs +loaded with hats and coats, and stands of umbrellas--into a long, low +room that looked crowded enough. Low bookcases ran around the walls, and +there were a great many tables heaped with books and magazines, and a +piano littered with music in a most slovenly condition; a music-stand or +two, and a violin and violoncello in their cases clustered about it. The +walls over the books were hung with old portraits, which looked as if +they might be valuable; among them were squeezed in whips, and long +pipes on racks, and calendars, and over them were hung horns and heads +of unknown beasts, whose skins lay on the floor. Over the fireplace hung +a sword and a pair of pistols in well-worn cases, but they were free +from dust, which many of the furnishings were not. The long windows at +the side opened on to the veranda, which was even more carelessly +strewed with the family possessions than at the front door, and from +which steps led down to a tennis-court in faultless trim, the only +orderly spot on the premises. + +What a poor housekeeper Mrs. Hayward must be! She must let the men of +the family do exactly as they pleased, and there must be at least half a +dozen of them, while not a trace of feminine occupation was to be seen. +No servant from here could hope to suit the Carter household, no matter +how good a character she brought. But somehow the intensely masculine +air of the place had a wild fascination for Marian herself, in spite of +warning remembrances of how much her family would be shocked. There was +something delicious in the freedom with which letters and papers were +tossed about, and books piled up anywhere, while their proper homes +stood vacant, and in the soothing, easy tolerance with which persecuted +dust was allowed to find a quiet resting-place. A pungent and pleasing +perfume pervaded the premises, which seemed appropriate and agreeable to +her delicate senses, even though she supposed it must be tobacco-smoke. +She had smelled tobacco only as it exhaled from passers in the street, +and surely this fine, ineffable aroma came from a different source than +theirs! While she daintily inhaled it as she looked curiously about, her +ears became aware of singular sounds--a subdued scuffling and scraping +at the door at the further end of the room, and a breathing at its +keyhole, which gave her an unpleasant sensation of being watched; and +she instantly sat stiffly upright and looked straight before her, her +heart beating with wonder and affright lest the situation might prove +actually dangerous. The sounds suddenly ceased, and in a moment more a +halting step was heard outside, and a gentleman came in at the other +door--a tall man, whose hair was thick, but well sprinkled with grey; +whose figure, lean and lank, had a certain easy swing about its motions, +in spite of a very perceptible limp; and whose face, brown and thin, and +marred by a long scar right across the left cheek, had something +attractive in its expression as he came forward with a courteous, +expectant look. Marian could only bow. + +"I beg your pardon; did you wish to see me?" inquired the stranger, in a +deep, low voice that sounded as if it might be powerful on occasion. + +"Oh, I am very sorry to trouble you! I only wanted to see the mistress +of the house, if she is able----" + +"I am afraid I am the only person who answers to that description." +There was a good-natured twinkle in his eye, and he had a pleasant +smile, but his evident amusement abashed her. "I keep my own house," he +went on. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought there was a Mrs. Hayward!" + +"I am sorry to say that there is none. But I am Mr. Hayward, and shall +be very glad if I can be of any service to you." + +"I don't want to disturb you," said Marian, blushing deeply, while Mr. +Hayward, with, "Will you allow me?" drew up a chair and sat down, as if +to put her more at her ease. "It is only--only--" here she came to a +dead stop. "I do not want to take up so much of your time," she +confusedly stammered. + +"Not at all; I shall be very happy--" he paused too, not knowing how to +fill up the blank, and waited quietly, while Marian sought frantically +in her little bag for a paper which was, of course, at the very bottom. +"It is only," she began again--"only to ask you about the character of a +chambermaid named Drusilla--yes, Drusilla Elms. I think it must be you +she refers to; at least I copied the address from the reference she +showed me; here it is," handing him the slip of paper; and as he took +out his eyeglass to study it, "only I couldn't tell--I didn't +know--whether it was Mr., or Mrs., or what it was before the name, I am +very sorry." + +"So am I. It has been the great misfortune of my life, I assure you, +that I write such a confounded--such an execrable hand. Pray accept my +apologies for it." + +"Oh, it was not a bad hand!--not at all! It was my own stupidity! I +suppose you really did give her the character, then?" + +"In spite of your politeness, I am afraid I too plainly recognise the +bewildering effect of my own scrawl. I think I must have given her the +reference, though I don't remember doing so." + +"The name is so peculiar----" + +"Yes; but the fact is that our old Catherine, who has been cook here for +a longer time than I can reckon, generally engages our other maid for +us, and she dislikes to change the name, and calls them all Margaret. I +think we had a very nice Margaret two years ago, but I will go and ask +Catherine; she may recollect." + +"Oh, don't trouble yourself! I have no doubt that you are quite +right--none at all!" + +"But I have so many doubts, I should like to be a little surer; and if +you will excuse me for a moment--well! _What_, in the devil's name, are +you up to now?" + +It must be explained that by this time he had reached the further door, +and that the sudden close of his speech was addressed, not to Marian, +but to some invisible person, or rather persons; for the subdued +laughter which responded, the very equivalent to a girlish giggle, +surely came from more than one pair of boyish lungs. Some stifled +speech, too, was heard, to which the master of the house replied, "Go to +----, then, and be quick about it!" as he closed the door behind him, +leaving Marian trembling with apprehension lest he might be mad or +drunk. And yet if this were swearing, and she feared it was, there was +something gratifying in the sound of a good, round, mouth-filling oath, +especially when contrasted with the extreme and punctilious deference of +his speech to her. He came back in a moment, and, standing before her +with head inclined, said, as if apologising for some misdeed of his own: + +"I am very sorry, but Catherine is out, doing her marketing. She will +probably return soon, if you do not mind waiting." + +"Oh, no!" said Marian, shocked with the idea that her presence might be +inconvenient; "I could not possibly wait! I am in a very great hurry." + +"Then, if you will allow me to write what she says? I promise," he +added, with another humorous twinkle in his eye, "to try and write my +very best." + +"Thank you, if it is not too much trouble," said Marian, rising, and +edging toward the door as if she had some hopes of getting off +unnoticed. It was confusing to have him follow her with an air of +expectation, she could not imagine of what, though she had a +consciousness, too, of having forgotten something, which made her +linger, trying to recollect it. He slowly turned the handle of the outer +door, and, opening it for her exit, seemed waiting for her to say +something--what, she racked her brains in vain to discover. He looked +amused again, and as if he would have spoken himself; but Marian, with a +sudden start, exclaimed, "Oh, dear, it rains!" She had not noticed how +dark the sky was growing, but to judge by the looks of the pavement, it +had been quietly showering for some time. + +"So it does!" said he. "That is a pity. I fear you are not very well +protected against it." + +"Oh, it doesn't matter!" cried Marian, recklessly; "it is only a step to +the horse-cars." + +"Enough for you to get very wet, I am afraid." + +"It isn't of the least consequence. I have nothing on that will +hurt--nothing at all!" + +Mr. Hayward looked admiringly and incredulously at the lilacs on her +bonnet. "I can hardly suppose your flowers are real ones, though +certainly they look very much like them; if they are not, I fear a +shower will scarcely prove of advantage to them. You must do me the +honour of letting me see you to the car." As he spoke he extracted from +the stand an enormous silk umbrella with a big handle, nearly as large +as Marian herself. + +"I could not think of it!" she cried, and hurried down the wet steps, +sweeping them with the dainty plaiting round the edge of her silvery +skirt. + +"Oh, but you must!" he went on in a tone of lazy good humour, yet as one +not accustomed to be refused. There was something paternal in his manner +gratifying to her, for as he could not be much over fifty, he must think +her much younger than she really was. + +"Don't hurry; there is a car every ten minutes, and a very good place to +wait in; there--take care of the wet box, please, with your dress, and +take my arm, if you don't mind." + +"Oh, no, thank you! Really, I am very well covered!" protested Marian, +squeezing herself and her gown into the smallest possible space. The big +umbrella was up before she knew it, and he was hobbling along the brick +path by her side, in an old pair of yellow leather slippers as ill +fitted to keep out the wet as her own shining little shoes. + +"I am very sorry you should have been caught in this way," he said +apologetically. + +"Don't mention it." + +"I hope you have not far to go." + +"Oh, no, indeed! That is--yes, rather far; but when I get into the car, +I am all right, because it meets--I mean, I can take a cab. It is very +easy to get about in town, you know." She turned while he opened the +gate, and caught sight of the front windows, thronged, like the gates of +Paradise Lost, with faces which might indeed have served as models for a +very realistic study, in modern style, of cherubim, being those of +healthy boys of all ages from twelve to twenty, each wearing a broad +grin of delight. + +"Confound 'em!" muttered her conductor in a low tone, but Marian caught +the words, and the accompanying grimace which he flung back over his +shoulder. Could his remarkable house be a boys' school? If so, he was +the very oddest teacher, and his discipline the most extraordinary, she +had ever heard of; it was too easy of egress, surely, to be a private +lunatic asylum, a thought which had already excited her fears. + +"Please lower your head a little, Miss--" he paused for the name, but +she did not fill up the gap; "the creepers hang so low here," and he +carefully held the umbrella so as best to protect her from the dripping +sprays. + +"How very pretty your garden is!" she said as he closed the gate. + +"It is a sad straggling place; we all run pretty wild here, I am +afraid." + +"But it is so picturesque!" + +"Picturesque it may be, and we get a good deal of fruit and vegetables +out of it; it isn't a show garden, but it is a comfort to have any +breathing-place in a city." + +"This seems a very pleasant neighbourhood." + +"Hum! well, yes; I think it pleasant enough. It is my old home; near the +water, too, and the boys like the boating. It's out of the way of +society, but then, we have no ladies to look after. It is easy enough, +you know, for men to come and go anyhow." + +"Coming and going anyhow" rang with a delicious thrill of freedom in +Marian's ears, and in the midst of her alarm at possible consequences +she revelled in her adventure, such a one as she had never had before, +and probably never should again; and there was the car tinkling on its +early way. Mr. Hayward signed to it to stop, and waded in his slippers +through the wet dust, for it could not be called mud yet, to hand her +deferentially in. + +"You are sure you can get along now?" he asked, as the car came to a +stop. + +"Oh, yes, indeed! Thank you so much; I am very sorry----" + +"No need of it, I assure you. I am sorry I cannot do more." He looked +at the big umbrella doubtfully, and so did she; but the idea of offering +it to her was too absurd, and they both laughed, which Marian feared was +improperly free and easy for her. Then, as she turned on the step to bow +her farewell, he added, "I beg your pardon; but you have forgotten to +leave me your address. I should be very glad to write in case +Catherine----" + +"Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street," stammered Marian, frightened +out of her little sense, and rattling off the first words that came into +her head, suggested in part by a baker's cart which passed at the +moment. She should never dare to give her real address! Anything better +than to have those dreadful boys know who she was! He looked puzzled, +then laughed; but it was of no use for him to say anything, for the car +had started, and swept her safely beyond his reach at once. She could +see him looking after it till it turned out of sight, and was thankful +he had not followed her, as he might perhaps have done if he had not had +on those old slippers. + +Marian did not go directly home, but stopped at Mrs. William Treadwell's +till the spring shower was over, that she might be able to tell her +family that she had been there, and thus avoid over-curious questioning +as to where she had been caught in it. She briefly informed them that +she could obtain no satisfactory account of Drusilla Elms--the people to +whom she referred seemed to have forgotten her--and wrote to the girl +that she had made other arrangements. She waited in fear for a few days, +lest something might happen to bring her little adventure to light; but +nothing did, and her fears subsided, with a few faint wishes as well. +What a pleasant world, she wistfully thought, was the world of men--a +world where conventionalities and duty calls gave way to a delicious, +free, Bohemian existence of boating and running about; where even +housekeeping was a thing lightly considered, and where dogs jumped on +sofas, and people threw their things around at pleasure--nay, even +smoked and swore, regardless of consequences temporal or eternal! + +About a fortnight after her wild escapade, the household of +Freeman-Robbins-Carter-Dale, to use the collective patronymic of the +female dynasty which reigned there, was agitated by the unusual +phenomenon of an evening visitor who called himself a man, though but in +his freshman year at Harvard University. It was the son of their +deceased cousin in New York, whose husband, though married again, +retained sufficient sense of kinship to insist that the boy should call +on his mother's relatives, which duty the unhappy youth had postponed +from week to week, and from month to month, until the awkwardness of +introducing himself was doubled. He had struggled through this ordeal, +and now sat, the centre of an admiring female circle who were trying to +hang upon his words. Winnie, whose presence might have given him some +support, had been sent to bed; but his sister was privileged to remain +up longer, and being a serious child, and wise beyond her years, she +fixed him with her solemn gaze, while one great-aunt remarked over and +over again on his resemblance to his grandfather, and the other as often +inquired who he was, though his name and pedigree were carefully +explained each time by the nurse. Mrs. Carter addressed him as "Freddy, +dear!" and Miss Caroline asked what he was studying at college, and his +cousin Isabel pressed sweet cake upon him. Only his cousin Marian sat +silent in the background. He thought her very pretty, and not at all +formidable, though so old--not that he had the least idea how old she +really was. + +"Did you bolt the front door, Marian, when you let Trippet out?" asked +her mother. Trippet was the family cat, who had shown symptoms of alarm +at the aspect of the unwonted guest. + +"I--I think so." + +"You had better go and look," said her sister. "It would be no joke if +Freddy's nice overcoat and hat were to be taken by a sneak-thief. They +are very troublesome just now in the suburbs," she continued; "but we +never leave anything of value in our front hall, and we always make it a +rule to bolt as well as lock the door as soon as it grows dusk. There is +no harm in taking every precaution." + +"Sneak-thieves and second-floor thieves have quite replaced the +old-fashioned midnight burglar," said Miss Caroline. + +"They are just as bad," said Mrs. Dale. + +"Women--ladies--are taking to it now," said Master Frederick. "I heard +the funniest story about one the other day." He paused, and grew red at +the drawing upon himself the fire of eight pairs of eyes, but plucked up +his courage and resumed the theme, not insensible to the possible +delight of terrifying those before whom he had quailed. "It was in Ned +Hayward's family, my classmate; he and his brother Bob--he's a +junior--live in South Boston with their uncle, Colonel Hayward--the +celebrated Colonel Hayward, you know, who was so distinguished in the +war, and--and everything; perhaps you know him?" + +"We have heard of him," said Mrs. Carter, graciously. + +"Well, I've been out there sometimes with him, and it's no end of +jolly--I mean, it is a pleasant place to visit in. The Colonel's an old +bachelor, and brings his nephews up, because, you know, their father's +dead." He stopped short again, overwhelmed with the sound of so long a +speech from himself. + +"But about the thief? Oh, do tell us," murmured the circle, +encouragingly. + +"Well," began Fred, seeing his retreat cut off, and gathering courage as +the idea struck him that the topic, if skilfully dwelt on, might last +out the call, "it happened this way. Bob was at home a few weeks ago to +spend Sunday, and took a lot of fellows--I mean a large party of his +classmates; and there were some boys there playing tennis with his +brothers--it was on a Saturday morning--and a woman came and asked for +the lady of the house; that's a common dodge of theirs, you know. Well, +of course, the Colonel went in to see her. The boys wanted to see the +fun, so they all took turns in looking through the keyhole; and Bob says +she was stunning--I mean very pretty--and looked like a lady, and +dressed up no end; but she seemed very confused and queer, and as if she +hardly knew what to say, and she pretended to have come to ask for the +character of a servant with the oddest name, I forget what; but most +likely she made it up, for none of them could remember it. Well, she +hung on ever so long, looking for a chance to hook something, I +suppose, and at last, just as she was going, it began to rain, and she +seemed to expect him to lend her an umbrella. But he wasn't as green as +all that comes to; he said he would see her to the car himself; so off +he walked with her as polite as you please. Bob says it's no end of fun +to see his uncle with a lady; he doesn't see much of them, and when he +does he treats 'em like princesses. He took her to the car, and put her +in, and just as it started he asked her address, and she told him--" +here an irrepressible fit of laughter interrupted his tale--"she told +him that it was Mrs. W. Cracker, 40 Washington Street. Did you ever hear +such stuff? Of course there's no such person, for the Colonel wasted +lots of time taking particular pains to find out. Bob says they're all +sure she was a thief, except his uncle, who was awfully smashed on her +pretty face, and he sticks to it she was only a little out of her head. +They poke no end of fun at him about it, but it really was no joke for +him, for he walked with her down to the car in his old slippers in the +wet, and caught cold in the leg where he was wounded; he's always lame +in it, and when he takes cold it brings on his rheumatic gout. He was +laid up a fortnight; he's always so funny when he's got the gout; he +can't bear to have any of the boys come near him, and flings boots at +their heads when they do, for of course they have to wait on him some, +and he swears so. Bob says he's sorry for him, for of course it hurts, +but he can't help laughing at the queer things he says. He always swears +some when he's well, but when he's sick it fairly takes your head off." + +"Dear me! dear me!" said Mrs. Carter; "swearing is a sad habit. I hope, +Freddy, dear, that you will not catch it. Colonel Hayward is a very +distinguished officer, and they have to, I suppose, on the battle-field; +but there is no war now, and it is not at all necessary." + +"Oh, he won't let the boys do it! He swears at them like thunder if they +do, but they don't mind it. He's awfully good-natured, and lets them +rough him as much as they please, and they've done it no end about the +pretty little housebreaker. Bob has made a song about her to the tune of +_Little Annie Rooney_--that's the one his uncle most particularly hates. +Phil had a shy at her with his kodak, but what with the rain and the +leaves, you can't see much of her." + +"It is a pity," said Miss Caroline; "it might be shown to the police, +who could very likely identify her. I dare say she has been at Sherborne +Prison, and there we photograph them all. If it were not that Mary +Murray is in for a two years' sentence, I should say it answered very +well to her description." + +Some more desultory conversation went on, while the hands of the clock +ran rapidly on toward eleven. The youthful Minna silently stole away at +a sign from her mother, without drawing attention upon herself. Ten +o'clock was the latest hour at which these ladies were in the habit of +being up; but how hint to a guest that he was staying too long? They +guessed that it might not seem late to him, and feared that he was +acquiring bad habits in college. + +The poor fellow knew perfectly well that he was making an unconscionably +long call; but how break through the circle? And then he was remembering +with affright into how much slang he had lapsed in the course of his +tale, and was racking his brains for some particularly proper farewell +speech which should efface the recollection of it. Suddenly his eyes +were caught by Marian's face. Her look of abject misery he could +attribute only to her extreme fatigue, and he made a desperate rally: + +"I'm afraid, Miss Dale, I mean Mrs. Robbins, that I'm making a terribly +long call. I am very sorry." + +"Oh, not at all! Not at all! Pray do not hurry! You must come often; we +shall be delighted to see you." + +"It seems a very long way," murmured Freddy, conscious that he was +saying something rude, but unable to help himself; and he finally +succeeded in escaping, under a fire of the most pressing invitations to +"call again," for, as Mrs. Carter said, "we must show some hospitality +to poor Ellen's boy. Marian, you look tired. I hope you did not let him +see it. Do go to bed directly. I must confess I feel a little sleepy +myself." But the troubles which Marian bore with her to the small room +which she shared with her little niece were of a kind for which bed +brought no solace, and she lay awake till almost dawn, only thankful +that Minna slumbered undisturbed by her side. + +To Marian every private who had fought in the war was an angel, and +every officer an archangel _ex officio_. That she should have been the +cause of an attack of rheumatic gout to a wounded hero filled her with +remorse, especially as this particular hero was the most delightful man +she had ever met. She wept bitterly from a variety of emotions--pity, +and shame, too--for what must he think of her? That last misery, at any +rate, she could not and would not endure, and before breakfast she had +written the following letter: + + "BURROUGHS STREET, JAMAICA PLAIN. + + "DEAR COLONEL HAYWARD, + + "I was very, very sorry to hear that you had taken cold and + been ill in consequence of that unfortunate call of mine on + Saturday, three weeks ago. I really came on the errand I + said I did; but I don't wonder you thought otherwise, after + I had behaved so foolishly. I did not know who you were, nor + where I had been, and I gave the wrong name because I was + frightened. But I cannot let you think so poorly of me, or + believe I had the least intention of giving you so much pain + and trouble. I can remember the war" [this was a mortifying + confession for Marian to make, but she felt that the proper + atonement for her fault demanded an unsparing sacrifice of + her own feelings], "and I know how much gratitude I, and + every other woman in our country, owe to you. Begging your + pardon most sincerely, I am, + + "Yours very truly, + "MARIAN R. CARTER. + "_May 5th, 1885_." + +Marian found no time to copy this letter over again before she took it +with her on her morning round of errands, to slip into the first +post-box, and she would not keep it back for another mail, although she +feared by turns that it was improperly forward, and chillingly distant. +Posted it was, and she could not get it back. She did not know whether +she wanted him to answer it or not. It would be kind and civil in him to +do so, but she felt that she could hardly bear the curiosity of the +family, as his letter was passed from hand to hand before it was opened +to guess whom it could be from, or handed round again to be read. There +was no more privacy in the house than there was in an ant-hill. + +She had not long to speculate, for the very next afternoon, as the +family were all sitting in grandmamma's room downstairs, their common +rallying-ground, as it was the pleasantest one in the house, and the old +lady, who disliked being left alone, rarely went into the drawing-room +till evening, the parlour-maid brought in a card, which went the rounds +immediately: + + "MR. ROBERT HAYWARD, + "City Point, South Boston." + +"What can he want?" said Mrs. Dale. + +"Very likely to see me on business," said Aunt Caroline. + +"It must be Colonel Hayward," said Isabel, remembering Frederick's tale. + +"It was Miss Marian he wanted to see," said Katy. + +"How very strange!" said Miss Caroline. But Mrs. Carter, dimly +remembering Marian's South Boston errand, till now forgotten, and +bewildered with the endeavour to weave any coherent theory out of her +scattered recollections, was silent; and Marian glided speechless out of +the room, and up the back stairs to her own for one hasty peep at her +looking-glass, and then down the front stairs again. + +"Aunt Marian!" shouted Winnie from a front upper window, and she started +at his tone, grown loud and boyish in a moment; "the gentleman came on a +horse, and tied it to a post, and it is black, and it is stamping on the +sidewalk; just hear it!" But Marian, whose pet he was, passed him +without a word. + +She lingered so little that the Colonel had no more time to examine her +abode than she had had his, and here the subject was more complex. The +room was not very small, but it was very full, and everything in it, so +to speak, was smothered. The carpet was covered with large rugs, and +those again with small ones, and all the tables with covers, and those +with mats. Each window had four different sets of curtains, and every +sofa and chair was carefully dressed and draped. The very fireplace was +arrayed in brocaded skirts like a lady, precluding all possibility of +lighting a fire therein without causing a conflagration, and, indeed, +those carefully placed logs were daily dusted by the parlour-maid. Every +available inch of horizontal space was crowded with small objects, and +what could not be squeezed on that was hung on the walls. The use of +most of these was an enigma to the Colonel; he had an idea that they +might be designed for ornament, and some, as gift books and booklets +and Christmas cards, appealed to a literary taste; but he was a little +overwhelmed by them, especially as there were a number of little boxes +and bags and baskets about, trimmed and adorned in various fashions, +which might contain as many more. There were a great many really pretty +things there, if one could have taken them in; but they were utterly +swamped, owing to the fatal habit which prevailed in the family of all +giving each other presents on every Christmas and birthday. + +The Colonel felt terribly big and awkward among them. He sat down on a +little chair with gilded frame and embroidered back and seat. It cracked +beneath him, and he sprang hastily up and took another, from which he +could see out of a window, and into a trim little garden where plants +were bedded out in small beds neatly cut in shaved green turf. A few +flowers were allowed in the drawing-room, discreetly quarantined on a +china tray, though there were any number of empty vases, and from above +he could hear the cheerful warble of a distant canary-bird, which woke +no answering life in the stuffed corpses of his predecessors standing +about under glass shades. + +The room looked stuffy, but it was not; the air was very sweet and clean +and clear, and the Colonel felt uncomfortably that he was scenting it +with tobacco. There could be no dust beneath those rugs, no spot on the +glass behind those curtains. There was a feminine air of neatness, and +even of fussiness, that pleased him; everything was so carefully +preserved, so exquisitely cared for. It would be nice to have some one +to look after one's things like that; he knew that the rubbish at home +was always getting beyond him somehow. + +And now came blushing in his late visitor, even more daintily pretty +than he had thought her before. + +The Colonel made a long call, as all the family, anxious to see the +great man, dropped in one after the other; but the situation was not +unpleasing to him, and he even exerted himself to win their liking, +which was the easiest thing in the world. He told Mrs. Carter that he +had come on behalf of his quondam servant, Drusilla Elms, whose name, he +was sorry to say, his cook had forgotten; but now she remembered it, and +could give her the very highest character, and he should be sorry if +their carelessness had lost the poor girl so excellent a place. He +listened to the tale of the grandmother's rheumatism, and even made some +confidences in return about his own. He talked about the soldiers' +lending libraries with Aunt Caroline, and promised to write to a friend +of his in the regulars on the subject. In his imposing presence the +great-aunt sat silently attentive. He had met Isabel's late husband, and +he took much notice of her children. He said Winnie was a fine little +lad, but would be better for a frolic with other boys. Could he not come +over and spend a Saturday afternoon with them at South Boston, and his +boys would take him on the water? Oh, yes; they were very careful, and +quite at home in a boat. Yes, he would go with them himself, if Mrs. +Dale would prefer it; and then the invitation was given and accepted--no +unmeaning, general one, but a positive promise for Saturday next, and +the one after if it rained. Of course, he should be charmed to have some +of the ladies come, too. Miss Carter would, perhaps, for she knew the +way. He did not take leave till his horse, to Winnie's ecstatic delight, +had pawed a large hole in the ground; and a chorus of praise arose +behind him from every tongue but Marian's. + +Colonel Hayward said nothing about his visit at home; but as he stood +after returning from his long ride, for which the boys had observed that +he had equipped himself with much more than ordinary care, smoking a +meditative cigar before the crackling little fire which the afternoon +east wind of a Boston May rendered so comfortable, he was roused by his +nephew Bob's voice: + +"Really, Uncle Rob, our bachelor housekeeping is getting into a hopeless +muddle!" Then, as his uncle said nothing: "I am afraid--I am really +afraid that one of us will have to marry." + +"Marry yourself, then, you young scamp, and be hanged to you; you have +my full consent if you can find a girl who will be fool enough to take +you." + +"Of course, I could not expect _you_ to make the sacrifice; but though I +am willing--entirely for your sake, I assure you--I shall not render it +useless by asking some giddy and inexperienced girl. I shall seek some +mature female, able and willing to cope with them----" + +"Them?" + +"The spiders. I have long known that they spun webs of immense size in +and about our unfortunate dwelling; but I was not prepared to find that +they attached them to our very persons." As he spoke he drew into sight +a fabric hanging to the back of his uncle's coat. It was circular in +shape, about the size of a dinner-plate, white in colour, and +ingeniously woven out of thread in an open pattern with many +interstices, by one of which it had fastened itself to the button at the +back of the Colonel's coat as firmly as if it grew there. + +"What the ----!" I spare my readers the expletives which, with the +offending waif, the Colonel hurled at his nephew as the young man and +his brothers exploded in laughter. + + * * * * * + +"I never was so surprised!" cried Mrs. Treadwell. + +"I did not think anything in the matrimonial line could surprise you!" +cried her husband. + +"Not often; but Colonel Hayward and Marian Carter! I could hardly +believe it. Mrs. Carter herself seems perfectly amazed, though of course +she's delighted. I suppose she had given up all idea of Marian's +marrying." + +"She is a sweet little thing," said Mr. Treadwell; "I wonder she has not +been married long ago." + +"I thought he was a confirmed old bachelor," said the lady; "I wonder +where he met her! I wonder whatever made him think of her! I hope +they'll be happy, but I don't know. Marian is a good girl, but she has +so little sense!" + +"I should think any man ought to be happy with Miss Carter," said the +gentleman, warmly; "I only hope he'll make her happy. Hayward's a very +good fellow, but he'll frighten that little creature to death the first +time he swears at her." + +"Colonel Hayward is a _gentleman_, William; he would never swear before +a lady." + +"I wouldn't trust him--when she's his wife." + + * * * * * + +Nevertheless, Mrs. Robert Hayward has not yet been placed in danger of +such a catastrophe, not even when her husband has been laid up with +rheumatic gout. To be sure, her ministrations on those occasions were +more soothing than those of the boys. Perhaps she was even a little +disappointed in her craving for excitement, and her new household ran +almost too smoothly. The boys gave no trouble, though they were aghast +on first hearing that the Colonel really contemplated matrimony, and Bob +reproached himself in no measured terms for having drawn attention to +the "work of Arachne," and driven his uncle to rush madly upon fate. But +Marian made it her particular request that things should go on as +before, which pleased her bridegroom, though he had never dreamed of any +change; and when they came to know her, she pleased the boys as well. + +"It's easy enough to get on with Aunt Marian," Bob would say; "she's +such a dear little fool! She swallows everything men tell her, no matter +how outrageous, and thinks if we want the moon, we must have it. If +only Minna would turn out anything like her! But no; they are ruining +all the girls now with their colleges. I doubt if Aunt Marian isn't the +last of her day and generation." + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +WHY I MARRIED ELEANOR + + +It has often been remarked that if every man would truthfully tell how +he wooed and won his wife, the world would be the gainer by a number of +romances of real life which would put to shame the novelist's skill. +"How" is the word usually employed in such cases, and, indeed, properly +enough. There are a number of marriages where the reason is sufficiently +palpable, and where any stronger one fails there is the all-sufficing +one of propinquity. But none of these were allowed in the case of my +marriage with Eleanor. Why did I do it? was the absorbing nine days' +wonder; for, as was unanimously and justly observed, if it were a matter +of propinquity alone, why did I not marry----? But I anticipate. + +To begin at the beginning, then, and to tell my tale as truthfully as if +I were on oath; there was no reason why Eleanor, or any other girl, +should not have married me. I was by all odds the best match in New +England, being the only son and heir of Roger Greenway, third of the +name. Whether my father could ever have made a fortune any more than I +could is doubtful; but he inherited a considerable estate, so well +invested that it only needed letting alone to grow, and for this he had +the good sense. Large as it was when I came into it, it was more than +doubled by my prospective wealth on the other side, for my mother was +the oldest of the four daughters of old Jonathan Carver, the last of the +Massachusetts vikings whose names were words of power in the China seas. + +My father was an elderly man when he married, and my mother was no +longer young. She and her sisters were handsome, high-bred women, with +every accomplishment and virtue under the sun. They did not, to use the +vulgar phrase, marry off fast. Indeed, the phrase and the very idea +would have shocked them. They were beings of far too much importance to +be so lightly dealt with. When, only a few years before her father's +death, Louisa married Roger Greenway, it was allowed by their whole +world to be a most fitting thing; and when I appeared in due season, the +old gentleman was so delighted that he made a will directly, tying up +his whole estate as tightly as possible for future great-grandchildren. +Some years after his death, my Aunt Clara, the second daughter, married +a Unitarian clergyman of good family, weak lungs, aesthetic tastes, and +small property, who never preached. He lived long enough to catalogue +all our family pictures and bric-a-brac, and arrange the "Carver +Collection" for the Art Museum, and then died of consumption soon after +my own father, leaving no children. By the time these events had passed +with all due observances, Aunt Frances and Aunt Grace thought it was +hardly worth while to marry; there had been a sufficient number of +weddings in the family, and they were very comfortable together--and +then how could they ever want for an object, with that fine boy of dear +Louisa's to bring up? We all had separate households; but my aunts were +always at "Greenways," my place on the borders of Brookline and West +Roxbury, which my father had bought when young and spent the greater +part of his life in bringing to a state of perfection; and my mother and +I were apt to pass the hottest summer months at Manchester-by-the-Sea, +where Aunt Clara, during her married life, had reared a little fairy +palace of her own; and to spend much of the winter at the great old +Carver house on Mount Vernon Street, which Jonathan Carver had left to +his unmarried daughters for life. + +I was the first object of four devoted and conscientious women. The +results were different from what might have been expected. The world +said I would be spoiled, and then marvelled that I was not; but my +mother's and aunts' conscientiousness outran their devotion, and they +all felt, though they would not acknowledge it to each other, that I had +rather disappointed them. I grew up a big, handsome young fellow enough, +very young-looking for my age, with a trick of blushing like a girl at +anything or nothing, which gave me much pain, though it won upon all the +old ladies, who said it showed the purity of my mind and the goodness of +my heart. + +By the way in which my moral qualities were always selected for praise, +it will be divined that but little could be said for my intellectual. +Had I been a few steps lower on the social ladder, something might have +been said against them. It was only by infinite pains on my own part and +that of the highly salaried tutor who coached me, that I was ever +squeezed through Harvard University. I did squeeze through, and with an +unblemished moral record; my Aunt Clara, the pious one of the family, +said it might have been worse, and my mother, to whom my commencement +day was a blessed release from four years of perpetual worry, said she +was highly gratified at the way in which dear Roger had withstood the +temptations of college life. For this I deserved no credit. The +temptations of which she thought were none to me. Where would have been +the excitement of gambling, when I had nothing to lose? and one brought +up from infancy in an atmosphere of fastidious refinement the baser +female attractions repelled at once, before they had the chance of +charming. I hated tobacco, and liquor of all kinds made me deadly sick. +A more subtle snare was set for me. + +Time slipped away for the first few years after I left college. We all +went to Europe and returned. I pottered a little about my place, and +discharged social duties, and such few local political ones as a +position like mine entails even in America. I did not know why I did not +do more, or what more to do. I did not think I was stupid exactly; it +seemed to me that I could do something, if I only knew what. Perhaps I +was slow--I certainly was in thought; but sometimes I startled myself by +hasty action before I thought at all, which gave me a dim consciousness +of the presence of my "genius." My mother's expectations had just begun +to take an apologetic turn, when my Aunt Frances, the clever one of the +family, put forward a bright idea. She said that it was all very well +for a young man who had his own way to make in the world to wait awhile; +a man with my opportunities could never be in a satisfactory position to +employ them until he was married. While I remained single there must +always be speculations, expectations, and reports. Once let me be +married, and all these worries, troublesome and distracting at present, +would receive their proper quietus. The sisters all applauded her +penetration, and all said with one voice that if Roger were to marry, he +could not do better than--but I anticipate again. + +Greenways and the neighbouring estates were large, and the only very +near neighbours we had were the Days and the Beechers; in fact, they +were both my tenants. When my father bought the place there was an old +farm-house on it, which, though it stood rather near the spot where he +wished to build, was too well built and too picturesque to pull down. +Old Sanderson, our head gardener for many a year, lived there with his +wife, and their house, with its own pretty garden and little greenhouse, +was one of my favourite haunts when a child. When the old couple died, +nearly at the same time, Sanderson had long left off active work, and +his deputy and successor, Macfarlane, lived in another house some +distance off. My mother said of course she could never put him into the +Garden House with all those children; she could never put another +servant there at all; she hated to pull it down; she did not know what +to do with it. My Aunt Grace, the impulsive one of the family, broke in, +and all the others followed suit with, "Why would it not be just the +thing for Katharine Day?" + +Katharine Day had been Katharine Latham, an old school friend of my Aunt +Grace. She was the daughter of a country clergyman, a pretty woman of +fascinating manners, and her relations were very well bred, though poor. +The friendship was an excellent thing for her; I don't mean to say that +it was not so for my aunt also, for I never knew a woman who could pay +back a social debt to a superior more gracefully than Mrs. Day. She was +always a little pitied as not having met with her deserts in marriage, +though Mr. Day was a handsome man, with good connections and a fine +tenor voice. He had some kind of an office with a very fair salary, but +his wife said, and it was a thing generally understood, that they were +very poor. They felt no shame, rather a sort of pride, in getting along +so well in spite of it. They went everywhere, and all her richer friends +admired Mrs. Day for being such a good manager, and dressing and +entertaining so beautifully on positively nothing, and showed their +admiration by deeds as well as words. One paid Phil's college expenses, +another took Katie abroad, and they were always having all kinds of +presents. They were invited everywhere in the height of the season, and +always had tickets for the most reserved of reserved seats. My mother, +or my guardian, for her, let them have the Garden House at a mere +nothing of a rent, but we said that it was really a gain for us, they +would take such beautiful care of it. + +Phil Day, though he was some years younger than I, was my classmate in +college, and graduated far ahead of me. My mother was consoled for his +superiority by thinking what a nice intimate friend he was for me. That +he was my intimate friend was settled for me by the universal verdict. +In reality I did not like him at all, but it would have been unkind to +be as offish as I must have been to keep him from being always at my +house, sailing my boats, riding my horses, playing at my billiard-table, +smoking my cigars, and drinking my wines, as naturally as if he had been +my brother, albeit I had a suspicion that these luxuries were not as +harmless to Phil as they were to me. He was a clever, handsome fellow, +and very popular. What I really disliked in him was his being such a +terrible snob, but this was an accusation that it seemed particularly +mean for me to make against him, even to my own mind. + +Phil's sister Katie was worth a dozen of him. She was a beautiful +creature, tall and lithe, with a rich colour coming and going under a +clear olive skin, and starry dark eyes that seemed to shoot out rays of +light for the whole length of her long lashes. She was highly +accomplished, and always exquisitely dressed. Mrs. Day said it did not +cost much, for dear Katie was so clever at making her own clothes. To be +sure, she could not make her boots and gloves, her fans and furs, and +these were of the choicest. Their price would have made a large hole in +her father's salary, but probably he was never called upon to pay +it--for I know my Aunt Grace, for one, thought nothing of giving her a +whole box of gloves at a time. Katie inherited all her mother's +fascination of manner and practical talent, and, like her, well knew how +to pay her way. She was a great pet of my mother and aunts. She poured +out tea, and sang after dinner, helped in their charity work, and chose +their presents. They had an idea that I could marry whom I pleased, but +I knew they felt I could not do better than marry Katie. It was their +opinion, and that of every one else, that she deserved a prize in the +matrimonial line. Providence evidently designed that she should get one, +for, as all her friends remarked, "If Katie Day could do so beautifully +with so little, what could she not do if she were rich?" Providence as +evidently had destined me for the lucky man, and even the other young +men bowed to manifest destiny in the united claims of property and +propinquity. + +The Beechers lived a little farther off the other way. About them and +their dwelling there was no glamour of boyish memories. The bit of land +on which it stood had always cut awkwardly into ours, and my father had +longed to buy it; but it had some defect in the title which could not be +set right until the death of some old lady in the country. She died at +last just about the time that he did, and in the confusion caused by his +sudden death the land was snapped up by O'Neil, an Irishman, who turned +a penny when he could get a chance by levying blackmail upon a +neighbourhood--buying up bits of land, building tenement houses on them, +and crowding them with the poorest class of his country people, on the +chance of being bought off at last at an exorbitant rate by the +neighbouring proprietors. + +In this present case O'Neil had mistaken his man. My guardian and first +cousin once removed, John Greenway, was the last person alive to screw a +penny out of. He would have borne any such infliction himself with +Spartan firmness; judge with what calmness he endured it for a ward. He +built a high wall on O'Neil's boundary, planted trees thickly around +that, and then proceeded to harass the unhappy tenants by every means +within his power and the letter of the law, so that they ran away in +hordes without waiting for quarter-day. O'Neil failed at last, and my +guardian bought in the concern for a song. Before this, however, O'Neil, +in desperate straits, had made a few cheap alterations in the house, +advertised it as a "gentleman's residence," and let it to the Beechers, +who were only too glad to get so well-situated a house so low. + +Mr. Beecher was well educated and of a good family, though he had no +near relations who could do anything for him. He had married early a +young lady much in the same condition, and had done but poorly in life, +hampered in all his efforts by a delicate wife and a large family. When +we bought the place I had not attained my legal majority; but I was old +enough to have my wishes respected, and I said positively that I would +not have him turned out. As I used to meet the poor old fellow--not that +he was really old, though he looked to me a perfect Methuselah--with his +grey head and shining, well-brushed coat, trotting to the station, a +good mile and a half off, at seven in the morning, through winter's cold +and summer's heat; and back again after dark, for nine months in the +year, my heart used to ache for him. But I could not tell him so, and of +course there was precious little I could do for him. My mother and aunts +were eminently charitable, but what could they do for Mrs. Beecher? Her +hours and ways and thoughts were not as theirs. She did not come very +often when they invited her, nor seem to enjoy herself very much when +she did. There was but little use in taking her rare flowers and +hothouse grapes, and they could not send her food and clothes as if she +were a poor person. The Beecher house had a garden of its own, out of +which Mr. Beecher, with a little help from his boys, contrived to get +their fruit and vegetables, though it always looked in very poor order. +We were thankful that it was so well shut out from our view, and poor +Mrs. Beecher was equally thankful that her boisterous boys and crying +babies were so well shut in. My mother did not approve of her much, and +said she must lack method not to get on better. Jonathan Carver's +daughters had been so trained by their father that any one of them could +have stepped into his counting-house and balanced his books at a +minute's warning. They kept their own accounts, down to the last mill, +by double entry, and were fond of saying that if you only did this you +would always be able to manage well. They were most kind-hearted, when +they saw their way how to be, but they had been so harassed from +childhood up by begging letter-writers and agents for societies that +they had a horror of leading people to expect anything from them; and +as the Beechers evidently expected nothing, it was best that they +should be left in that blissful condition. They were indeed painfully +overwhelmed by their obligations in the matter of the house. I made the +rent as low as I decently could, and put in improvements whenever I had +the chance. I used to rack my brains to think what more I could do for +them; but in all my wildest dreams it never occurred to me that I might +give them a lift by marrying Eleanor. + +Eleanor was their oldest child, and a year or two younger than Katie +Day. She was really as plain as a girl has any right to be. She had the +light eyelashes and freckles which often mar the effect of the prettiest +red hair, and hers was not a pretty shade, but very common carrots. Her +features and her figure were not bad exactly, and her motions had +nothing awkward--one would never have noticed them in any way. It might +have been better for her had she been strikingly ugly. Anything striking +is enough for some clever girls to build upon; but whether Eleanor were +clever or stupid, no one knew or cared to know. She was a good girl, and +helped her mother, and looked after the younger children;--but then, she +had to. Her very goodness was a mere matter of course, and had nothing +for the imagination to dwell upon. She was not a bit more helpful to +her mother than Katie Day was to hers; and if Katie's path of duty led +to trimming hats and writing notes, and Eleanor's to darning the +children's stockings and washing their faces, why, that was no fault in +the one nor merit in the other. + +I felt very sorry for Eleanor, when I thought of her at all, which was +not often, but I could do even less for her than for her father. We used +to invite them when we gave anything general, but they did not always +come, and when we sent them tickets they often could not use them. They +had not many other invitations, and could seldom accept any, on account +of the cost of clothes and carriage hire. My mother, of course, could +not take them about much, for there were our own family and the Days, +whom she took everywhere, and who enjoyed going so much. I always asked +Eleanor to dance, but as she was dreadfully afraid of me, I fear it gave +her more pain than pleasure. She did not dance well, and I could not +expect my friends to follow my example. Phil Day, indeed, once declared +that he "drew the line at Eleanor Beecher." I remember longing to kick +him for the speech, and that was the liveliest emotion I ever felt in +connection with her. + +Why I did not marry Katie is plainer--to myself at least. I came very +near it, not once alone, but many times. I do not think that there was +any man who could have seen her day after day, as I did, and not have +fallen in love with her, unless there were some barrier in the way. Mine +was fragile as a reed, but it proved in the end to be strong enough. It +arose in the days when I was a green young hobble-de-hoy of nineteen, +dragging along in my freshman year, and she was a bright little gipsy +four years younger. At a juvenile tea-party at the Days' we were playing +games, and one--I don't know what it was, except that it demanded some +familiarity with historical characters and readiness in using one's +knowledge. The little wit I had was soon hopelessly knocked out of me, +while Katie, quick and alert, was equally ready at showing all she knew, +and shielded herself by repartee when she knew nothing. I made some +absurd blunder, perhaps more in my awkward way of putting things than in +what I really meant, between the two celebrated Cromwells, giving the +impression that I thought the great Oliver a Catholic. I might have made +some confused explanation, but was silenced by Katie's ringing laugh, a +peal of irresistible girlish gayety, such as worldly prudence is rarely +strong enough to check at fifteen. Perhaps she was excited and could not +help it, but I thought she laughed more than she need, and there was +something scornful in the tone that jarred on me painfully. I could not +be so foolish as to resent it, but I could not forget it, and often when +she has looked most lovely, and the star of love has shone most +propitious, some sharper cadence than usual in her voice, or a hint at +harder lines under the soft curves of her face, or a contemptuous ring +in her musical laugh, has withered the words on my lips, and the hour +has passed with them unspoken. It was, I dimly felt, only a question of +time; the flood must some day rise high enough to sweep the frail +barrier away. + +Katie and Eleanor had but little in common on the surface, nor were +there ever any deeper sympathies of thought and feeling between them. +Still, they were girls, living near together, and with all the others +much farther off. It was impossible that there should not be some +intercourse of business or pleasure, though never intimate and always +irregular; and one pleasant September it came about that we spent a good +many hours together, playing lawn tennis on my court. There was another +young man hanging about; an admirer of Katie's, he might be called, +though he was not very forward to try his chances, thinking, as I +plainly saw, that they were not worth much. Herbert Riddell was not much +cleverer than I was, and, though not poor, had no wealth to give him +importance. He was a thoroughly good fellow, and felt no jealousy of me, +and it was pleasant for him to loiter away the golden autumn days with +beauty on the tennis court, even if both were another's property. We +were well enough matched, for, though Herbert and Katie were very fair +players, while Eleanor was a perfect stick, yet I played so much better +than the others that I generally pulled her through. She really tried +her best, but somehow the more she tried the more blunders she made, +perhaps from nervousness, and one afternoon they were especially +remarkable. We were hurrying to finish our match, as it was getting late +and nearly time for "high tea" at the Days', to which we were all asked, +though Eleanor, as usual, had declined, and Katie, as usual, had not +pressed her. It was nothing to either Herbert or me, for we both found +Mrs. Day a much more lively _pis aller_ in conversation than Eleanor. +Katie was serving, and sent one of her finest, swiftest balls at +Eleanor, who struck at it with all her force, and did really hit it, but +unfortunately and mysteriously sent it straight up into the air. We all +watched it breathlessly, as it came down--down--and fell on our side of +the net. Katie, warm and excited, laughed loud and long. I thought that +there was a little affection of superiority in her mirth, just like +there was in the high, clear, scornful music that woke the echoes of +long ago, and I in turn lost my self-possession, and returned my next +ball with such nervous strength that it flew far beyond the lawn and +over the clumps of laurels into the wood beyond. We had lost the set. + +"Really, Mr. Greenway," cried Katie, "you must have tried to do that; or +have you been taking private lessons of Eleanor?" She stopped, her fine +ear perhaps detecting something strained and hard in her own voice. I +see her still as she looked then, poised like Mercury on one slender +foot, one arm thrown back and holding her racket behind her head, +framing it in, the little dimples quivering round her mouth, ready to +melt into smiles at a word, while from under her dark eyelashes she shot +out a long, bright look, half saucy defiance, half pleading for pardon. +It was enough to madden any man who saw her, and it struck home to +Riddell. Poor fellow! it was never aimed at him, and it fell short of +its mark: + + "My heart's cold ashes vainly would she stir, + The light was quenched she looked so lovely in." + +Eleanor, meanwhile, was bidding her usual good-by, nothing in her manner +showing that she was at all offended. She need not be, for of course +Katie could not seriously intend any slight to her, any more than to a +stray tennis ball to which she might give a random hit. But I could not +let a lady go home alone from my own ground in just this way, and I had +a sort of fellow-feeling with her, which I wanted to show. + +"I will see Miss Beecher home, and then come back," I said, and hastened +after her, although I had seen, by the prompt manner in which she had +walked off, that she did not intend, and very likely did not wish, I +should. I was glad to leave the ground and get away from them. I kept +saying to myself that after all Katie was not much to blame; girls would +be thoughtless, and Katie was so pretty and so petted that she might +well be a little spoiled; and then I asked myself what right I had to +set myself up as a judge of her conduct? None at all; only I wished that +women, who can so easily and lightly touch on the raw places of others, +would use their power to heal and not to wound. I could picture to +myself some girl with an eagerness to share the overflowing gifts of +fortune with others, a respectful tenderness for those who had but +little, a yearning sweetness of sympathy that should disarm even envy, +and give the very inequalities of life their fitness and significance. +We men have rougher ways to hurt or heal; and though I tried +desperately hard, I could not hit on anything pleasant or consolatory to +say to Eleanor. + +She had got pretty well ahead of me, and was out of sight already. Her +way home was by a long roundabout walk through our place, and then by a +short one along the public road. When I turned into the winding, shady +path which led through the thick barrier of trees hiding the Beecher +wall, she was loitering slowly along before me; and though she quickened +her pace when she heard me behind her, as a hint that I need not follow, +I soon caught up with her, and then I was sorry I had tried to, for I +saw that she was crying most undisguisedly and unbecomingly. + +"Miss Beecher--Eleanor," I stammered out, "you mustn't mind it--she +didn't mean it--it was too bad--I was a little provoked myself--but +don't feel so about it." + +"Oh, it's not that," said Eleanor, stopping short, and steadying her +trembling voice, so that it seemed as if she were practised in stifling +her emotions. The very tears stopped rolling down her cheeks. +"It's--it's everything. You don't know what it is," she went on more +rapidly; "you never can know--how should you--but if you were I, to see +another girl ahead of you in everything--to have nothing, not one single +thing, that you could feel any satisfaction in--and no matter how hard +you tried, to have her do everything better without taking any trouble, +and to know that if you worked night and day for people, you could not +please them as well as she can without a moment's care or thought, just +by being what she is--you would not like it. And the worst of it all is +that I know I am mean and selfish and hateful to feel so about it, for +it's not one bit Katie's fault." + +"Oh, come!" I said; "don't look at it so seriously. You exaggerate +matters." + +"I should not mind it," said Eleanor, gravely, "if I did not feel so +badly about it. Now, I know that's nonsense. I mean that if I could only +keep from having wrong feelings about it myself, it would not matter +much if she were ever so superior in every way." + +"Are you not a little bit morbid? If you were really as selfish as you +think, you would not be so much concerned about it. It seems to me that +we all have our own peculiar place in this world, and that if we fill it +properly, we must have our own peculiar advantages; no one else can do +just what we can, any more than we could do what they could; we must +just try to do well what we have to do." + +"It is very well for you to talk in that way," said Eleanor, simply. + +"I?"--a little bitterly. "I am a very idle fellow, who has made but +little effort to better himself or others. But we won't talk of efforts, +for I am sure your conscience must acquit you there. I suppose you were +thinking more of natural gifts--of pleasing, which is after all only +another way of helping. One pleases one, and one another, and it is as +well, perhaps, to be loved by a few as liked by a great many. Don't +doubt, my dear Miss Beecher, that any man who truly loves you will find +you more charming even than Katie Day." + +What there was in this harmless and well-meant speech to excite +Eleanor's anger I could not imagine; but girls are queer creatures. She +grew, if possible, redder than before, and her eyes fairly flashed. "No +one--" she began, and stopped, unable to speak a word. I went on, as +much for a sort of curious satisfaction I had in hearing my own words, +as for any consolation they might be to her. "Beautiful as she is, she +only pleases my eye; she does not touch my heart. I am not one particle +in love with her, and sometimes I scarcely even like her." + +"Stop!" cried Eleanor; "you must not say such things--I did very wrong +to speak to you as I did. You mean to be kind, but you don't know how +every word you say humiliates me. Surely, you can't think me so mean as +to let it please me, and yet, perhaps, you know me better than I do +myself. There is a wretched little bit of a feeling that I would not own +if I could help it, that--that--" She was trembling like a leaf now, and +so pale that I thought she was going to faint away. I did not know +whether to feel more sorry for her or angry with myself for having made +things worse instead of better by my awkwardness. There was only one way +to get out of the scrape. I threw my arm around her shaking form, took +her cold hand in mine, and said with what was genuine feeling at the +time, "Dearest Eleanor!" Of course there was no going back after that. + +Eleanor, equally of course, made her escape at once from my arm, but I +still held her hand as I went on. "Do--do believe me. I love you and no +one else." She seemed too much astonished to say anything. "Could you +not love me a little?" + +She looked at me still surprised and incredulous. "You can't mean +it--you don't know what you are saying." + +I remember feeling well satisfied with myself, for doing the thing so +exactly according to the models in all dramas of polite society; but +Eleanor, it must be owned, was terribly astray in her part. I went on +with increasing energy. "Plainly, Eleanor, will you be my wife? Will +you let me show what it is to be loved?" + +Poor Eleanor twisted her damp little handkerchief round and round in her +restless fingers without speaking for a moment, and then said in a +frightened whisper, "I--I don't know." + +I tried to take her hand again, but she drew it away, and said shyly, +"Indeed I don't know. I never dreamed of any one's loving me, much less +you. I don't know how I ought to feel." + +"Have you never thought how you would feel if you loved anyone?" I +asked, her childish simplicity making me smile, and I felt as if I were +talking to a little girl; but, to my surprise, she blushed deeply, and +then answered firmly, as if bound to be truthful, "Yes! I have felt--all +girls have their dreams"; here a something in her tone made her seem to +have grown a woman in a moment; "I thought I should never find any real +person to make my romance about, and so for a long time I have loved Sir +Philip Sidney." + +"What?" + +"Because he would have been too much of a gentleman to mind how plain +and insignificant I was; it isn't likely he would have loved me--but I +should not have minded his knowing that I loved him." + +"And do you think that there are no gentlemen now?" + +As I looked at her, the surprise and interest roused by her words making +me forget for a moment the position in which we stood, I saw a sudden +eager look rise in her eyes, then fade away as quickly as it came; but +it showed that if no one could call Eleanor beautiful, it might be +possible to forget that she was plain. She walked along slowly under the +broad fir boughs, and I by her side, both silent. She was frightened at +having said so much. But as we drew near the gate which opened to the +public road, I said, "Will you not give me my answer, Eleanor?" + +"I cannot," she murmured, "it is so sudden. Can you not give me a little +time to think about it?" + +"Till this evening?" + +"No--no. I have no time before then. Come to-morrow morning--after +church begins, and I will be at home--that is," she added +apologetically, "if it is just as convenient to you." + +Poor child! she did not know what it was to use her power, in caprice or +earnest, over a lover. Every word she said was like a fresh appeal to +me. I told her it should be as she wished, and but little else passed +till we reached her father's door, which closed between us, to our +common relief. + +Instead of appearing at the Days' tea-table, which indeed I forgot, I +walked straight to the darkest and remotest nook in the fir-wood, flung +myself flat on the ground, and tried to face my utterly amazing +position, and to realise what I had been about. It was evident that I +had irrevocably pledged myself to marry Eleanor Beecher, but still I +could hardly believe it. It seemed too absurd that I, who had been proof +against the direct attacks of so many pretty girls, and the more +delicate allurements of the prettiest one I knew, should have been such +a fool as to blurt out a proposal because a plain one had shed a few +tears, which, to do her justice, were shed utterly without the design of +producing any effect on me. + +In this there lay a ray of hope. Eleanor, I had fully recognised, was +transparently sincere; if she did not love me, I was sure she would tell +me so frankly; and, after all, should I not be a conceited fool to think +that every girl I saw must fall in love with me? If she refused me, as +she very likely would, I should be very glad to have given her the +chance; it would give her a little self-esteem, of which she seemed more +destitute than a girl ought to be, and it would not diminish mine. I +felt more interest in her than I could have thought possible two hours +ago, but I did not love her, and did not want to marry her. I did not +feel that we were at all suited to each other, and I hoped that she +would have the good sense to see it too; and yet, would she--would she? + +Next day at a quarter past eleven I ascended the Beecher doorsteps in +all the elegance of array that befitted the occasion, and, I hope, no +unbecoming bearing. I had had a sleepless night of it, but had reasoned +the matter out with myself, and decided that if I had done a foolish +thing, I must take the consequences like a man, and see that they ended +with me. Eleanor herself opened the door and showed me into the stiff +little drawing-room, which had to be stiff or it would have been +hopelessly shabby at once. The family were at church, and it was the +only time in the week that she could have had any chance to see me +alone. She had made, it was plain, a great effort to look well, and was +looking very well for her. She had put on a fresh, though old, white +frock, had stuck a white rose in her belt, and done up her hair in a way +I had never seen it in before. She looked very nervous and frightened, +but not unbecomingly so, I allowed, though with rather a sinking of the +heart at the way these straws drifted. We got through the few polite +nothings that people exchange on all occasions, from christenings to +funerals, and then I said: + +"Dear Eleanor, I hope you have thought over what I said to you +yesterday, and that you know how you really feel, and can--that you can +love me enough to let you make me--to let me try to make you--I mean--" +I was blundering terribly now, and getting very red. Yesterday's fluency +had quite deserted me. But Eleanor was thinking too much of what she had +to say herself to heed it. + +"Oh!" she began, "I am afraid--I know I am not worthy of you. It was all +so sudden and so unexpected yesterday. But I know now that I do not love +you as much as I ought--as you deserve to be loved by the woman you +love. I ought to say that I will not marry you--but--" she looked up +beseechingly--"I can't--I can't." + +She paused, then went on in a trembling voice, "You don't know how hard +a time my father and mother have had. There has hardly a single pleasant +thing ever happened to them. Ever since I was a little girl I have +longed and longed to do something for them--something that would really +make them happy--and I never could. I never dreamed I should have such a +chance as this! and then all the others! I have thought so what I should +like to give them, and I never had the smallest thing; and then +myself--I don't want to make myself out more unselfish than I am--but +you don't know how little pleasure I have had in my life. I never +thought of such a chance as this--all the good things in life offered +me at once--and I cannot--cannot let them go by." + +She stopped, breathless, only for a moment, but it was a bitter one for +me. I had one of those agonising sudden glimpses such as come but +seldom, of the irony of fate, when the whole tragedy of our lives lies +bare and exposed before us in all its ugliness. So then even she, for +whom I was giving up so much, could not love me, and I was going to be +married for my money after all! Then with another electric shock of +instant quick perception, it came across me that I was getting perhaps a +better, certainly a rarer, thing than love. Many women had flattered my +vanity with hints of that; but here was the only one I had ever met whom +I was sure was telling me the absolute, unflattering truth. The sting of +wounded pride grew milder as Eleanor, unconsciously swaying toward me in +her earnestness, went on: + +"Will you--can you love me, and take my friendship, my gratitude and +admiration--more than I can tell you--and wait for me to love you as +well as you ought to be loved? I know I shall--how can I help it?" + + * * * * * + +As things in our family were always done with the strictest attention to +etiquette, I informed my mother, as was due to her, during our usual +stroll on the terrace, after our early Sunday dinner, that I was paying +my addresses to Eleanor Beecher, and intended to apply for her father's +consent that afternoon. It was a great and not a pleasant surprise for +her. My mother was celebrated for never saying anything she would be +sorry for afterwards--an admirable trait, but one which frequently +interfered with her conversational powers; and unfortunately, on this +occasion, to say nothing was almost as bad as anything she could have +said. It was rather hard for both of us, but after it was over, she +could go to her room and have a good cry by herself, while I was obliged +to set off for an interview with my intended father-in-law, whom I found +in his little garden, in shirt-sleeves and old slippers, cutting the +ripest bunches from his grape-vines. It was the blessed hour sacred to +dawdle--the only one the poor old fellow had from one week's end to the +other. He was evidently not accustomed to have it broken in upon by +young men visitors in faultless calling trim, and starting, dropped his +shears, which I picked up and handed to him; dropped them again, +shuffled about in his old slippers, and muttered something of an +apology. Evidently I must plunge at once into the subject, but I was +getting practised in this, and began boldly: "Mr. Beecher, may I have +your consent to pay my addresses to your daughter Eleanor?" + +"Eleanor at home? Oh, yes, she's in. Perhaps you'll kindly excuse me?" +and he looked helplessly toward the house door. + +"I don't think you quite understand me. I spoke to Eleanor last night +about my wishes--hopes--my love for her, and she promised to give me an +answer this morning. She has consented to become my wife--of course, +with your approval." + +"Lord bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Beecher, throwing back his head, and +looking full at me over the top of his spectacles; "who would ever have +thought it? I mean--you seem so young, such a boy." + +"I am twenty-six, and Eleanor, I believe, is twenty." + +"True, true; yes, she was twenty last June--but--but--why, of course, +she must decide for herself--that is, if you are sure you love her." + +I felt myself growing red; but Mr. Beecher seemed to interpret this as a +sign of my ardent devotion, and anger at its being doubted, for he went +on: "Yes, yes! I beg your pardon. I never heard anything about you but +in your favour. Of course, I have nothing to say but that I am very +happy. Of course," more quickly, "it's a great honour; that is, of +course you know my daughter has no fortune to match with yours." + +"I am perfectly indifferent to that." + +"Of course--of course--well, it must rest with Eleanor. She is a good +girl, and I can trust her choice. Will you not go in and see my--Mrs. +Beecher?" he added with relief, as if struck with a bright idea; and I +left him slashing off green bunches and doing awful havoc among his +grape-vines. He did not appear so overwhelmed with delight at the +prospect of an alliance with me as Eleanor had seemed to expect. Mrs. +Beecher, on her part, took the tidings in rather a melancholy way; she +wept, and said Eleanor was a dear good child, and she hoped we would +make each other happy, but there was more despondency than joy in her +manner; either she was accustomed to look at every new event in that +light, or, as I suspected, this piece of good fortune was rather too +overwhelming. I thought many times in the next two months of the man who +received the gift of an elephant. I played the part of elephant in the +Beecher _menage_, and was sometimes terribly oppressed by my own +magnificence. Perhaps an engagement may be a pleasant period of one's +life under some circumstances; decidedly mine was not. I insisted on its +being as short as possible, thinking that the sooner it was over the +better for all parties. Mr. and Mrs. Beecher might have had some comfort +in getting Eleanor ready to be married to some nice young man with a +rising salary and a cottage at Roxbury; but to get her ready to be +married to me was a task which I was afraid would be the death of both +of them. Poor Eleanor herself was worn to a shadow with it all, and I +remember looking forward with some satisfaction to bringing her up again +after we were married. + +My mother, of course, could not interfere with their arrangements, even +to offer help. She asked no questions, found no fault, but was +throughout unapproachably courteous and overpoweringly civil. Once, and +once only, did she speak out her mind to me. The evening after the +wedding-day was fixed, she tapped late at my door, and when I opened it, +she walked in in her white wrapper, candlestick in hand--for the whole +house was long darkened--her long, thick, still bright brown locks +hanging below her waist, and a look of determination on her +features--looking like a Lady Macbeth, who had had the advantages of a +good early education. + +"Roger!" she began, and paused. + +"Well." + +"Roger," as I placed a chair for her, and she sat down as if she were at +the dentist's, "there is one thing I must say to you. I hope you will +not mind. I must be satisfied on one point, and then I will never +trouble you again about it." + +"Anything, dearest, that I can please you in." + +"Roger, did you ever--did you never care for Katie Day?" + +"I always liked her." + +"I mean, Roger, did you ever want to marry her? And, oh, Roger! I hope, +I do hope that if you did not, you have never let her have any reason to +think you did." + +"Never! I have never given her any reason to think I cared for her more +than as a very good friend." + +"I felt sure you would never wilfully deceive any girl," said my mother, +with a sigh of relief; "but I am anxious about you yourself. Did you and +Katie ever have any quarrel--any misunderstanding? I have heard of +people marrying some one else from pique after such things. Do forgive +me, Roger, dear; but I should be so glad to know." My poor mother +paused, more disconcerted than she usually allowed herself to be, and +her beautiful eyes brimming over with tears. + +"Don't worry about me, dearest mother," I said, kissing her tenderly; +for my heart was touched by her anxiety. "I can tell you truly that I +have never really wanted to marry Katie, though once or twice I have +thought of it. I have always admired her, as every one must. She is a +lovely girl; and seeing so much of her as I have, it might have come to +something in time, if it had not been for Eleanor." + +"If it had not been for Eleanor!" My mother was too well-bred to repeat +my words, but I saw them run through her mind like a lightning flash. +She looked for a moment as if she thought I was mad, then in another +moment she remembered that she had heard love to be not only mad but +blind. Her own Cupid had been a particularly wide-awake deity, with all +his wits about him; but she bowed to the experience of mankind. From +that hour to this she has never breathed a word which could convey any +idea that Eleanor was anything but her own choice and pride as a +daughter-in-law. + +The Beechers got up a very properly commonplace wedding, after all, +though nothing to what my wedding ought to have been. Eleanor herself, +like many prettier brides, was little but a peg to hang a wreath and +veil on. Her younger sisters did very well as bridesmaids. The only will +I showed in the matter was in refusing to ask Phil Day to act as best +man, though I knew it was expected of me. I asked Herbert Riddell; and +the good fellow performed his part admirably, and made the thing go off +with some life. I verily believe he was the happiest person there. They +only had a very small breakfast for the nearest relations, my mother +remarking that we could have something larger afterwards; but the church +was crammed. The thing I remember best of that day, now fifteen years +ago, was the expression on Mrs. Day's and Katie's faces. It was not +pique--they were too well-bred for that--nor disappointment--they were +too proud for that, even had they felt it. And I don't believe that +there was any deep disappointment, at least on Katie's part. I had made +no undue advances; and she was far too sensible and sunny-tempered a +lassie to let herself do more than indulge in a few day-dreams, or to +wear the willow for any man, even if he were a good match, and had +pleased her fancy. She married, as every one knows, Herbert Riddell, and +made him a very good wife. But neither mother nor daughter could quite +keep out of their faces, wreathed in smiles as befitted the occasion, +the look of uncomprehending, unmitigated amazement, too overpowering to +dissemble. I suppose it was reflected on many others, and I remembering +overhearing Aunt Frances severely reproving Aunt Grace for so far +forgetting herself as to utter the vulgar remark that she "would give +ten thousand dollars to know what Roger was marrying that little fright +for." + +The Roger Greenway and Eleanor Beecher of ten years ago are so far past +now that I can talk of them like other people. That Roger Greenway +ranked so low in his class at college is only remembered to be cited as +a comfort to the mothers of stupid sons--Roger Greenway, now the coming +man in Massachusetts. Have I not made a yacht voyage round Southern +California, and is not my book on the deep-sea dredgings off the coasts +considered an important contribution to the Darwinian theory, having +drawn, in his later days, a kind and appreciative letter from the great +naturalist? Do I not bid fair to revolutionise American agriculture by +my success in domesticating the bison on my stock-farm in Maine? Have I +not come forward in politics, made brilliant speeches through the State, +and am I not now sitting in Congress for my second term? The world would +be incredulous if I told them that all this was due to Eleanor. She did +not, indeed, know exactly what deep-sea dredging was; but she said I +ought to do something with my yacht, and had better make a voyage, and +write a book about it. She is as afraid, not only of a bison, but of a +cow, as a well-principled woman ought to be; but she said I ought to do +something with my stock-farm, and had better try some experiments. She +is no advocate of women's going into politics; but she said I was a good +speaker, and ought to attend the primary meetings. And when I said the +difficulty was to think of anything to say, she said if that were all, +she could think of twenty things. So she did; and when I had once +begun, I could think of them myself. I have had no military training; +but if Eleanor were to say that she was sure I could take a fort, I +verily believe I could and should. + +Not less is Eleanor Beecher of the old days lost in Mrs. Roger Greenway. +As she grew older she grew stouter, which was very becoming to her, as +she had always been of a good height, though no one ever gave her credit +for it. Her complexion cleared up; her hair was better dressed, and +looked a different shade; and she developed an original taste in dress. +She developed a peculiar manner, too, very charming and quite her own. +She showed an organising faculty; and after getting her household under +perfect control, and starting her nursery on the most systematic basis, +she grew into planning and carrying out new charities. The name of Mrs. +Roger Greenway at the head of a charity committee wins public confidence +at once, and, seen among the "remonstrants" against woman's suffrage, +has more than once brought over half the doubtful votes in the General +Court. Every one says that I am unusually fortunate in having such a +wife for a public man, and my mother cannot sufficiently show her +delight in the wisdom of dear Roger's choice. + +Eleanor would never let me do what she called "pauperise" her family; +but I found Mr. Beecher a good place on a railroad, over which I had +some control, which he filled admirably, and built a new house to let to +him. I helped the boys through college, letting them pay me back, and +gave them employment in the lines they chose. The girls, under +pleasanter auspices, turned out prettier than their eldest sister, and +enjoyed society; and one is well married, and another engaged. + +Katie Day, as I said before, married Herbert Riddell. She was an +excellent wife, and made his means go twice as far as any one else could +have done. She and Eleanor are called intimate friends with as much +reason as Phil and I had been. I don't believe they ever have two words +to say to each other when alone together, but then they very seldom are. +Eleanor is always lending Katie the carriage, and sending her fruit and +flowers when she gives one of her exquisite little dinners; and Katie +looks pretty, and sings and talks at our parties, and so it goes on to +mutual satisfaction. + +We all have our youthful dreams, though to few of us is it given to find +them realities. Perhaps we might more often do so, did we know the +vision when we met it in mortal form. I had had my ideal, a shadowy one +indeed--and never, certainly, did I imagine that I was chasing after it +when I followed Eleanor down the fir-tree walk. "An eagerness to share +the overflowing gifts of fortune with others--a respectful tenderness +for those who had but little--a yearning sweetness of sympathy that +should disarm even envy, and give the very inequalities of life their +fitness and significance." Had I ever clothed my fancies in words like +these? I hardly knew; but as I watched my wife in the early days of our +married life, shyly and slowly learning to use her new powers, as the +butterfly, fresh from the chrysalis, stretches its cramped wings to the +sun and air, they took life and shape before me--and I felt the charm of +the "ever womanly" that has ever since drawn me on, as it must draw the +race. + +Did Eleanor's love for me spring from gratitude for, or pleasure in, the +wealth that was lavished on her with a liberal hand? Who shall say? A +girl's love, if love it be, is often won by gifts of but a little higher +sort. But if it be worthy of the name, it finds its earthly close in +loving for love's sake alone; and then it matters not how it came, for +it can never go, and the pulse of its life will be giving, not taking. +To Eleanor herself, sure of my heart because so sure of her own, it +would matter but little to-day if I had loved her first from pity. That +I did not is my own happiness, not hers. + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE STORY OF A WALL-FLOWER + + +It would never have occurred to anyone on seeing Margaret Parke for the +first time, that she was born to be a wall-flower,--plainness, or at +best insignificance of person, being demanded by the popular mind as an +attribute necessary to acting in that capacity, whereas Margaret was +five feet eight inches in height, with a straight swaying figure like a +young birch tree, a head well set back upon her shoulders--as if the +better to carry her masses of fair hair--an oval face, a straight nose, +blue eyes so deeply set, and so shaded by long dark eyelashes, that they +would have looked dark too, but for the sparkles of coloured light that +came from them, an apple-blossom skin, and thirty-two sound teeth behind +her ripe red lips. With all these disqualifications for the part, it was +a wonder that she should ever have thought of playing it; and to do her +justice, she never did,--but some have "greatness thrust upon them." + +Margaret's father, too, was a man of some consequence, having a +reputation great in degree, though limited in extent. He was hardly +known out of medical circles, but within them everyone had heard of Dr. +Parke of Royalston. His great work on "Tissues," which afterwards +established his fame on a secure basis, lay tucked away in manuscript, +with all its illustrations, for want of funds to publish it; but even +then there were rooms in every hospital in Europe into which a king +could hardly have gained admittance, where Dr. Parke might have walked +in at his pleasure. So brilliant had been "Sandy" Parke's career at +college, and in the Medical School, that his classmates had believed him +capable of anything; and when he married Margaret's mother, a beauty in +a quiet way, both young people, though neither had any money, were +thought to have done excellently well for themselves. Alas! they were +too young. Dr. Parke's marriage spoiled his chances of going abroad to +complete his medical education. When he launched on his profession, it +was found that many men were his superiors in the art of getting a +lucrative practice in a large city; and, at last, he was glad to settle +down in a country town, where he had a forty-mile circuit, moderate +gains, and still more moderate expenses. His passion was study, which he +pursued unremittingly, though time was brief and subjects were scanty. + +Mrs. Parke was a devoted wife and mother, who thought her husband the +greatest of men, and pitied the world for not recognising the fact. She +managed his affairs wisely, and they lived very comfortably and cheaply +in the pleasant semi-rural town. Could the children have remained babies +forever, Mrs. Parke's wishes would never have strayed beyond the limits +of her house and garden; but as they grew older, and so fast! ambition +began to stir in her heart. It was the great trial of her life that with +all her economy, they could not find it prudent to send the two oldest +boys to Harvard, but must content themselves with Williams College. She +bore it well; but when Margaret bloomed into loveliness that struck the +eyes of others than her partial parents, she felt here she must make an +effort. Margaret should go down to Boston to see and be seen in her own +old set, or what remained of it. Mrs. Parke was an orphan, with no very +near relations, but her connections were excellent, and her own first +cousin, Mrs. Robert Manton, might have been a most valuable one had +things been a little different. Unfortunately, Mrs. Manton, being early +left a widow, with a neat little property and no children, and having to +find some occupation for herself, had chosen the profession of an +invalid, which she pursued with exclusive devotion. She had long ceased +to follow the active side of it--that of endeavouring to do anything to +regain her health; having exhausted the resources of every physician of +reputation in the New England and Middle States, among them Dr. Parke, +who, like the others, did not understand her case, and indeed had never +been able to see that she had any. She had now passed into the passive +stage, trying only to avoid anything that might do her harm. She never +went to Royalston, as there was far too much noise in the house there to +suit her, but she felt kindly towards her cousin's family, and when she +was able would send them pretty presents at Christmas. More often she +would simply order a box of confectionery to be sent them, which they +ate up as fast as possible, Dr. Parke being inclined to growl when he +saw it about. + +Cousin Susan had rather dropped out of society, though the little she +did keep up was of a very select order; and Mrs. Parke knew better than +to expect her to take any trouble to introduce Margaret into it. The +bare idea of having a young girl on her hands to take about would have +sent her out of her senses. But she lived in her own very good house on +West Cedar Street, and though she had let most of it to a physician, +reserving rooms for herself and her maid, surely there was some little +nook into which she could squeeze Margaret, if the girl, who had a +pretty talent for drawing, could be sent to Boston to take a quarter at +the Art School. Mrs. Manton assented, because refusing and excusing were +too much trouble. Mrs. Parke had also written to an old school friend, +now Mrs. David Underwood; a widow, too, but still better endowed, who +had kept up with the world, and went out and entertained freely; the +more, because her son, Ralph Underwood, a rising young stockbroker, was +a distinguished member of the younger Boston society. Mrs. Underwood had +visited the Parkes in her early widowhood, when Ralph was a little boy +and Margaret a baby, and had been most hospitably entertained. Of course +she would be only too glad to do all she could to show her friend's +pretty daughter the world, and show her to it. + +Now, if Mrs. Parke had sent Margaret down to Boston a year sooner or a +year later, things would doubtless have taken quite another turn, and +this history could never have been written. But the year before she was +still feeding her family on stews and boiled rice, to lay up the money +for Margaret's expenses, and working early and late to get up an outfit +for her; which objects she achieved by the autumn of 188-. What baleful +conjunction of planets was then occurring to make Mrs. Underwood +mutter, as she read the letter, that she wished Mary Pickering had +chosen any other time to fasten her girl upon them, while Ralph growled +across the breakfast-table under his breath, "At any rate, don't ask her +to stay with us," must be left for the future to disclose. Mrs. +Underwood eagerly promised anything and everything her son chose to ask, +and as he sauntered out of the house leaving his breakfast untouched, +and she watched anxiously after him from the window, the important +letter dropped unheeded from her hand, and out of her mind. + +Margaret came down in due season, bright and expectant. Cousin Susan was +rather taken aback at the girl's beauty, partly frightened at the +responsibilities it involved, partly relieved by the thought that it +would make Mrs. Underwood the more willing to assume them all. Margaret +went to the Art School, and got on very well with her drawing. She was +much admired by the other girls, who were never weary of sketching her. +They were nice girls, though they did not move in the sphere of society +in which they seemed to take it for granted that Margaret must achieve a +distinguished success; and even though she was modest in her +disclaimers, she could not help feeling that she might have what they +called "a good time" under Mrs. Underwood's auspices. + +Mrs. Underwood for more than a week gave no sign of life; then made a +very short, very formal call, apologising for her tardiness by reason of +her numerous engagements, and proffering no further civilities; and when +Margaret, in a day or two, returned the call, she found Mrs. Underwood +"very much engaged." But in another day or two there came a note from +her, asking Margaret to a small and early dance at her house, and a card +for a set of Germans at Papanti's Hall, of which she was one of the lady +patronesses, and which Cousin Susan knew to be the set of the season. In +her note she rather curtly stated that she had settled the matter of +Margaret's subscription to the latter affairs, and that she would call +and take her to the first, which was to come off three days after her +own dance. Margaret was pleased, but a little frightened; there was +something not very encouraging in the manner of Mrs. Underwood's note; +though perhaps it was silly to mind that when the matter was so +satisfactory,--only she did hate to go to her first dance alone. She +longed even for Cousin Susan's chaperonage, though she knew her longings +were vain; Mrs. Manton never went out in the evening under any +circumstances, and told Margaret that there was no need of a chaperon at +so small an affair at the house of an intimate friend, and that she +should have that especially desirable cab and cabman that she honoured +with her own custom, whenever she could make up her mind to leave the +house. It would, of course, be charged on her bill; after which piece of +munificence she washed her hands of the whole affair. + +Margaret set out alone. It was a formidable ordeal for her to get +herself into the house and up the staircase, and glad was she when she +was safely landed in the dressing-room, though there was not a soul +there whom she knew. Her dress was a pink silk that had been a part of +her mother's trousseau; a good gown, though not at all the shade people +were wearing now; but Mrs. Parke had made it over very carefully, and +veiled it with white muslin. It had looked very nice to Margaret till it +came in contact with the other girls' dresses. She hoped they would not +look at it depreciatingly; and they did not,--they never looked at it at +all, or at her either. She stood in the midst of the gayly greeting +groups, less noticed than if she were a piece of furniture, on which at +least a wrap or two might have been thrown. She found it easy enough, +however, to get downstairs and into the reception-room in the stream, +and up to Mrs. Underwood, who looked worried and anxious, said she was +glad to see her, and it was a very cold evening; and then, as the +waiting crowd pushed Margaret on, she could hear the hostess tell the +next comer that she was glad to see him, and that it was a very warm +evening. Margaret was softly but irresistibly urged on toward the door +of the larger room where the dancing was to be; but that she had not the +courage to enter alone, and coming across a single chair just at the +entrance, she sat down in it and sat on for two hours without stirring. +The men were bustling about to ask the girls who had already the most +engagements; the girls were some of them looking out for possible +partners, some on the watch for the men by whom they most wished to be +asked to dance; but no one asked Margaret. The music struck up, and +still she sat on unheeded. + +The loneliness of one in a crowd has often been dwelt upon, as greater +than that of the wanderer in the desert; but all pictures of isolation +are feeble compared to that of a solitary girl in a ballroom. Margaret's +seat was in such a conspicuous position that it seemed as if all the +couples who crushed past her in and out of the ballroom must take in the +whole fact of her being neglected. There were a few older ladies in the +room, but these sat together in another part of it, and talked among +themselves without paying any heed to her. + +At first she hardly took in the situation in all its significance; but +as dance after dance began and ended, she began to feel puzzled and +frightened. Did the Underwoods mean to be rude to her, or was this the +way people in society always behaved, and ought she to have known it all +along? Ought she to feel more indignant with them, or ashamed of +herself? If she could only know what the proper sentiment for the +occasion might be, it would be some relief to feel miserable in the +proper way. Miserable her condition must be, since she was the only girl +in it. + +At last Mrs. Underwood brought up her son and introduced him. He was a +tall, dark, well-grown young fellow, who might have been handsome but +for a look of gloomy sulkiness which made his face repulsive. He +muttered something indistinguishable and held out his arm, and Margaret, +understanding it as an invitation to dance, mechanically rose, and +allowed herself to be conducted to the ballroom. She made one or two +remarks to which he never replied, and after pushing her once or twice +round the room in as perfunctory a manner as if he were moving a table, +watching the door over her head, meanwhile, with an attention which made +him perpetually lose the step, he suddenly dropped her a little way from +her former seat, on which she was glad to take refuge. She thought she +must have made a worse figure on the floor than sitting down, and then +a terrible fear rushed over her like a cold chill. Was there something +very much amiss with her appearance? Had anything very shocking happened +to her gown? She looked at it furtively; but just then the bustle of a +late arrival diverted her thoughts a little, as a short, plump, +black-eyed girl came laughing in, followed by a quiet, middle-aged lady, +and a rather bashful-looking young man. Margaret thought her only rather +pretty, not knowing that she was Miss Kitty Chester, the beauty of +Boston for the past two seasons; however, she did observe that she had +the most gorgeous gown, the biggest nosegay, and the highest spirits in +the room. She hastened up to Mrs. Underwood, with an effusive greeting, +which that lady seemed trying, not quite successfully, to return in +kind. Half of the girls in the room, and most of the men, gathered round +her in a moment; and a confused rattle of lively small talk arose, of +which Margaret could make out nothing. She noticed, however, that the +other girls, many of them momentarily deserted, appeared to regard the +sensation with something of a disparaging air, and she heard one of them +say, that it was a little too bad, even for Kitty Chester. What "it" +might be remained a mystery, but there was no doubt that it contributed +amazingly to the success of Mrs. Underwood's dance, which went on, +Margaret thought, with redoubled zest, for all but herself; nor, indeed, +did Ralph Underwood appear enlivened, for she caught a glimpse of him +across the room, sulkier than ever. To her surprise, as he looked her +way, a sort of satisfaction, it could not be called pleasure, suddenly +dawned on his face. Surely she could never be the cause! And then for +the first time she perceived that someone was standing behind her; and, +as one is apt to do in such a consciousness, she turned sharply and +suddenly around, the confusion which came too late to check her movement +coloring her face. It was a relief to find that it was a very +insignificant person on whom her glance fell, a small, plain man of +indefinite age, who looked, as the girls phrase it, "common." He was +dressed like the other men, but his clothes had not the set of theirs, +and he had the air, if not of actual ill-health, of being in poor +condition. In that one glance her eyes met his, which sent back a look, +not of recognition, but of response. There was nothing which she could +notice as an assumption of familiarity, but if anyone else had seen it +they might have thought that she had been speaking to him. Of course, +she could do nothing but turn as quickly back; but she was conscious +that he still kept his place, and somehow it seemed a kind of protection +to have him there. He stood near, but not obtrusively so; a little to +one side, in just such a position that she could have spoken to him +without moving, and they might have been thought to be looking on +together, too much at their ease to talk. When people paired off for +supper and nobody came for her, he waited till everyone else had left +the room, so that he might have been thought her escort. He then +disappeared; but in a moment Margaret was amazed by the entrance of a +magnificent colored waiter, who offered her a choice of refreshments +with the finest manners of his race. His subordinates rushed upon each +other's heels with all the delicacies she wished, and more that she had +never heard of, and their chief came again to see that she was properly +served. Not a young woman at the ball had so good a supper as Margaret; +but that is the portion of the entertainment for which young women care +the least. + +Just before the crowd surged back from the supper-room, her protector, +as she could not help calling him to herself, had slipped back into his +old place, so naturally that he might have been there all the time +during the supper, whose remains the waiters were now carrying off with +as much deference as they had brought it. Margaret wondered how a person +who looked, somehow, so out of his sphere, could act as if he were so +perfectly in it. Very few people seemed to know him, and though when +one or two of the men spoke to him it was with an air of being well +acquainted, he seemed rather to discourage their advances, and Margaret +was glad, for she dreaded his being drawn away from her neighbourhood. +While she was puzzling over the question as to whether he were a poor +relation, or Ralph's old tutor, the wished-for, yet dreaded hour of her +release sounded,--dreaded, for how to say her good-by and get out of the +room. But somehow the unknown was close behind her, and one or two of a +party who were going at the same time were speaking to him, so she might +have been of, as well as in, the group. Mrs. Underwood looked worried +and tired and had hardly a word for her, but seemed to have something to +say to her companion of a confidential nature, by which, however, he +would not allow himself to be detained, but excused himself in a few +murmured words, which seemed to satisfy his hostess, and passed on, +still close behind Margaret, to the door, where they came full against +Ralph Underwood, who barely returned Margaret's bow, but exclaimed: +"What, Al, going? Oh, come now, don't go." + +"Al" said something in a low voice, as inexpressive as the rest of him, +of which Margaret could only distinguish the words "coming back," and +followed her on, waiting till she came down the stairs and out of the +house. He did not offer to put her into the carriage, but somehow it was +done without any exertion on her part, and as she drove off, she saw him +on the steps looking after her. + +Margaret had a fine spirit of her own, and could have borne the downfall +of her illusions and hopes as well as ninety-nine young women out of a +hundred. She could even, when her distresses were well over, have +laughed at them herself, and turned over the leaf in hopes of a better. +But what was she to write home about it? how satisfy her father, mother, +and Winnie, eager for news of her? how bear their disappointment? There +lay the sting. "If it were not for them," she thought, "I should not +mind so very much." She was strictly truthful both by nature and +education, and though she did feel that if ever a few white lies were +justifiable, they would be here, she dismissed the notion as foolish, as +well as wicked, and lay awake most of the night, trying to +diplomatically word a letter which should keep to the facts and still +give a cheerful impression. "Mrs. Underwood's dance was very pretty," +she said, and she described the decorations and dresses. She had "rather +a quiet time" herself, not knowing many people, and did not dance more +than "once or twice." Here was a long pause, until she decided that +"once or twice" might literally stand for one as well as more. She did +not see much of Mrs. Underwood or Ralph, as they were busy receiving, +but "some of the men were very kind." Here again conscience pricked her; +but to say one man would sound so pointed and particular--it would draw +attention and perhaps inquiry which she could but ill sustain; and then +luckily the devotion of the black waiters darted into her mind, and she +went off peacefully to sleep, her difficulties conquered for the +present, and a feeling of gratitude toward the unknown warm at her +heart. Of course "a man like that" could only have acted out of pure +good-nature, and couldn't have expected that she should dream of its +being anything else. She wished she could have thanked him for it. + +The lesser trial of having to tell Cousin Susan about it was fortunately +averted. Mrs. Manton never left her room the next day, and when Margaret +saw her late the day after, the party was an old story, and Margaret +could say carelessly that it had been rather slow, and her host not +particularly attentive, without exciting too much comment. Cousin Susan +said it was a pity, but that it would be better at the next, as she +would know a few people to start with. Margaret did not feel so sure of +that, and wished she could stay away; but she had no excuse to give +without telling more of the truth than she could bring herself to do; +and then, she reasoned, things might be different next time. Mrs. +Underwood might have more time or inclination to attend to her, when she +was not occupied with her other guests; and there were other matrons, +some of whom might be good-natured,--perhaps some of the men might +notice her at a second view, and ask her to dance; at any rate, she +thought, it could not well be worse than the first. She wished she had +another gown to wear than that pink silk, which might be unlucky, but +the white muslin prepared as an alternative was by no means smart +enough. So she put on the gown of Monday, trying to improve it in +various little ways, and waited with something that might be called +heroism. + +Mrs. Underwood called at the appointed hour. She bade Margaret good +evening, and asked if she minded taking a front seat, as she was going +to take up Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; and that, and Margaret's +acquiescence, was about all that passed between them till the carriage +stopped, and a faded-looking, though youngish woman, plain, but with an +air of some distinction got in, and acknowledged her introduction to +Margaret with a few muttered indistinguishable words. + +"Dear Katharine, I am so glad!" said Mrs. Underwood; "I thought you +would certainly have some girl to take, and I should have to go alone." + +"I'm not quite such a fool, thank you," said Mrs. Freeman, in a quick +little incisive voice that somehow brought her words out; "I told them +I'd be a patroness, if I need have no trouble, and no responsibilities; +but you needn't expect to see me with a girl on my hands." + +"Oh, but any girl with you would be sure to take." + +"You can never tell--unless a girl happens to hit, or her people are +willing to entertain handsomely, you can't do much for her. A girl may +be pretty enough, and nice enough, and have good connections, too, and +she may fall perfectly flat. I had such a horrid time last winter with +Nina Turner; I couldn't well refuse them. Well, thank Heaven, she's +going _in_ this winter;--going to set up a camera and take to +photography." + +"I wish more of them would go in," said Mrs. Underwood with a groan. +"Here has Bella Manning accepted, if you will believe it. I should think +she had had enough of sitting out the German. Well--I shan't trouble +myself about her this winter. She ought to go in and be done with it." + +"The mistake was in her ever coming out," said Mrs. Freeman, with a +laugh at her own wit. + +"It is a mistake a good many of them have made this year. Did you ever +see a plainer set of debutantes?" + +"Never, really; it seems to have given Mabel Tufts courage to hold on +another year. I hear she's coming." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Underwood scornfully. "It's too absurd. Why, her own +nephews are out in society! They go about asking the other fellows, +'Have you met my aunt?' Ned Winship has made a song with those words for +a chorus, and the boys all sing it. And yet, Mabel is very pretty +still--I wonder no one has married her." + +"Mabel Tufts was never the sort of girl men care to marry." + +Margaret wondered in her own mind at the sort of girl Mr. Thorndike +Freeman had cared to marry. She tried to keep her courage up, but it +grew weaker as she followed the other ladies upstairs and took off her +wraps and pulled on her gloves as fast as she could, while Mrs. +Underwood stood impatiently waiting, and Mrs. Freeman looked Margaret +over beginning with her feet and working upward. + +"Have you a partner engaged, Miss Parke?" asked Mrs. Underwood suddenly. + +"No"--faltered Margaret, unable to add anything to the bare fact. + +"I am afraid you won't get one then, there are so many more girls than +men." + +The "so many more" turned out, in fact, to be two or three, but Margaret +had no hope. She felt that whoever got a partner, it would not be she. +The dancers paired off, the seats were drawn, the music began, and she +found herself sitting by Mrs. Underwood on the back row of raised +benches, with a quarter view of that lady's face, as she chatted with +Mrs. Thorndike Freeman on the other side. There were only two other +girls, as far as Margaret could make out, among the chaperons. Some of +the latter were young enough, no doubt, but their dress and careless +easy manner marked the difference. A pretty, thin, very +fashionable-looking elderly young lady sat near Margaret;--perhaps the +luckless Mabel Tufts; but she seemed to know plenty of people, and was +perpetually being taken out for turns. She laughed and talked freely, as +if defying her position, and Margaret wished she could carry it off so +well, little guessing how fiercely the other was envying her for the +simplicity that might not know how bad her plight was, and the youth +that had still such boundless possibilities in store. Another small, +pale girl in a dark silk sat far back, and perhaps had only come to look +on,--too barefaced a pretence for Margaret in her terribly obtrusive +pink gown. She could not even summon resolution to refuse young +Underwood when he asked her for a turn, though she wished she had after +he had deposited her in her chair again and stalked off with the air of +one who has done his duty. + +The griefs of a young woman who has no partner for the German, though +perhaps not so lasting as those of one who lacks bread and shelter, are +worse while they do last, for there may be no shame in lacking bread, +and one can, and generally does, take to begging before starving. As the +giraffe is popularly supposed to suffer exceptionally from sore throat, +owing to the length of that portion of his frame, so did Margaret, as +she sat through one figure, and then through another, feel her torture +through every nerve of her five feet, eight inches. What would she not +have given to be smaller, perhaps even plainer,--somehow less +conspicuous. Man after man strolled past her, and lounged in front of +her, chatting and laughing with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman; but it was not +possible they could help seeing her, however they might ignore her. + +"_Le jour sera dur, mais il se passera._" + +Margaret could have looked forward to all this being over at last, and +to night and darkness, and bed for relief; but--here rose again the +spectre--what could she write home about it? She could not devise +another evasive letter; she must tell the whole truth, and had better +have done so at first--for of course she should never, never come to one +of these things again. The hands of the great clock crept slowly on; +would they never hurry to midnight before the big ball in her throat +swelled to choking, and her quivering, burning, throbbing pulses drove +her to do something, she could not tell what, to get away and out of it +all? + +The second figure was over, and she looked across the great hall, +wondering if she could not truthfully plead a headache, and go to the +cloak-room. But how was she to get there? and what could she do there +alone? She would have died on the spot rather than make any appeal to +Mrs. Underwood. No, she must go through with it; and then as she looked +again, a great, sudden sense of relief came over her, for she saw in the +doorway the slouching figure of her friend of Monday. He did not look at +her, and she doubted if he saw her; but it was something to have him in +the room. In a moment more, however, she saw him speak to Ralph +Underwood; and then the latter came up to her and asked if he might +present a friend of his, and at her acquiescence, moved away and came up +again with "Miss Parke, let me introduce Mr. Smith." + +"I am very sorry to say I don't dance," Mr. Smith began, "but I hear +that there are more ladies than men to-night; so perhaps if you have not +a partner already, you won't mind doing me the favour of sitting it out +with me." + +Margaret hardly knew what he meant, but she would have accepted, had he +asked her to dance a _pas de deux_ with him in the middle of the hall. +She took his arm and they walked far down to a place at the very end of +the line of chairs; but it did not matter; it was in the crowd. + +Mr. Smith did not say much at first; he hung her opera cloak over the +back of her chair carefully, so that she could draw it up if she needed +it, and somehow the way he did so made her feel quite at home with him, +and as if she had known him for a long time; even though she perceived, +now that she had the opportunity to look more closely at him, that he +was by no means so old as she had at first taken him to be. His hair was +thin, and there were one or two deeply-marked lines on his face, but +there was something about his figure and motions that gave an impression +of youthfulness. Without knowing his age, you would have said that he +looked old for it. He was rather undersized than small, having none of +the trim compactness that we associate with the latter word, and his +face had the dull, thick, sodden skin that indicates unhealthy +influences in childhood. + +"That was a pleasant party at Mrs. Underwood's the other evening," he +began at last. + +"Was it?" said Margaret, "I never was at a party before--I mean a party +like that." + +"And I have been to very few; parties are not much in my line, and when +I do go I am generally satisfied with looking on; but I like that very +well, sometimes." + +"Perhaps," said Margaret ingenuously, "if I had gone only to look on, I +should have thought it pleasant too; but I did not suppose one went to a +party for that." + +"You do not know many people in Boston?" + +"Oh, no! I live in the country--at Royalston. I don't know anyone here +but Mrs. Underwood; but I thought--mamma said, that she would probably +introduce me to some of her friends; but she didn't--not to one. Don't +people do so now?" + +"Well, it depends on circumstances. I certainly think she might have; +but then she has so much to think about, you know." + +"I suppose I was foolish to expect anything different, but I had read +about parties, and I thought--I was very silly--but I thought I didn't +look so very badly. I thought I should dance a little--that everybody +did. Perhaps my gown doesn't look right. Mamma made it, and took a +great deal of pains with it. Of course, it isn't so new or nice as the +others here, but I can't see that it looks so very different; do you?" + +"It looks very nice to me," said Mr. Smith, smiling. He had a pleasant, +rather melancholy smile, which gave his face the sole physical +attraction it possessed, and would have given it more, if he had had +better teeth. "It looks very nice to me, and as you are my partner, I am +the one you should wish most to please." + +"Oh, thank you! it was so kind in you to ask me. I can tell them when I +write home that I had a partner at any rate; and you can tell me who +some of the others are." + +"I am afraid not many," said Mr. Smith, "I go out but very little. I +only went to the Underwoods because Ralph is an old friend of mine, and +I came here because--" He checked himself suddenly. + +"I am sorry, since he is your friend, but I must say that I do think him +very disagreeable. I did not know a man could be so unpleasant. I had +rather he had not danced with me at all than to do it in that terribly +dreary way, as if he were doing it because he had to." + +"You mustn't be hard on poor Ralph. He's a very good fellow, really, but +he's almost beside himself just now. The very day of their dance, Kitty +Chester's engagement came out. She had been keeping him hanging on for +more than a year, and at one time he really thought she was going to +have him; and not only that, but she and Frank Thomas actually came to +his party, and they are here to-night. Ralph acts as if he had lost his +senses, and his mother is almost wild about him. Why, after their dance, +I was up all the rest of the night with him. He can't make any fight +about it, and I think it would be better if he were to go away; but he +won't--he just hangs about wherever she is to be seen. We all do all we +can to get him to pluck up some spirit, but it's no go--yet." + +"I am very sorry for him," said Margaret, with all a girl's interest in +a love story; and she cast an awe-struck glance toward the spot where +Miss Chester was keeping half a dozen young men in conversation; "but he +need not make everyone else so uncomfortable on account of it--need he?" + +"He needn't make himself so uncomfortable, you might say, for a girl who +could treat him in that way; but it doesn't do to tell a man that. It +doesn't seem to me that I should give up everything in the way he is +doing; but then I was never in his place; of course, things are +different for Ralph and me." + +"Yes, I am sure, you are different. I don't believe you would ever have +behaved so ill to one girl in your own mother's house, because another +hadn't treated you well." + +"I have had such a different experience of life; that was what I meant. +It made me sympathise with you when you felt a little strange; though of +course, it was only a mere accident that things happened so with you. +Now, I was never brought up in society, and always feel a little out of +place in it." + +"I don't know much about society either; we live very quietly at home, +and when we do go out, why it is at home, you know, and that makes it +different." + +"I suppose you live in a pretty place when you are at home?" + +"Oh, Royalston is lovely!" said Margaret, eagerly; "there are beautiful +walks and drives all round it, and the streets have wide grass borders, +and great elms arching over them, and every house has a garden, and our +garden is one of the prettiest there. The place was an old one when +father bought it, and the flower-beds have great thick box edges and +they are so full of flowers; and there is a long walk up to the front +door, between lilac bushes as big as trees, some purple and some white; +and inside it is so pleasant, with rooms built on here and there, all in +and out, and stairs up and down between them. Of course we are not rich +at all, and things are very plain, but mamma has so much taste; and then +there are all the old doors and windows, and the big fireplaces with +carved mantel-pieces, and so much old panelling and queer little +cupboards in the rooms--mamma says it is the kind of house that +furnishes itself." + +"I see--it is a good thing to have such a home to care about. Now I was +born in the ugliest village you can conceive of in the southern part of +Illinois; dust all summer, and mud all winter, and in one of the ugliest +houses in it; and yet, do you know, I am fond of the place; it was home. +We were very poor then--poorer than you can possibly conceive of--and I +was very sickly when I was a boy, and had to stay in most of the time. I +was fond of reading, though I hadn't many books, but I never saw any +society--what you would call society. When I was old enough to go to +college, father had got along a little, and sent me to Harvard. I liked +it there, and some of the fellows were very kind to me, especially Ralph +Underwood, though you might not think it. I tried to learn what I could +of their ways and customs, but it was rather late for me, and I never +cared to go out much; and then--there were other reasons." A faint flush +rose on his sallow face and he paused. Margaret fancied he alluded to +his poverty, and felt sorry for him. She hoped he was getting on in the +world, though he did not look very well fitted for it. By this time they +were on a footing of easy comradeship, such as two people of the same +sex and on the same plane of thought sometimes fall into at their first +meeting. It is not often that a young man and a girl of such different +antecedents slide so easily into it; but as Margaret said to herself, +this was a peculiar case. He had told his little story with an apparent +effort to be strictly truthful and put things in their proper position +at the outset. There could be no intentions on his part, or foolish +consciousness or any reason for it on hers, and she asked him with +undisguised interest: + +"Where do you live now,--in Illinois?" + +"Not that part of it. Father and mother live in Chicago when they are at +home. I am in Cambridge, just now, myself; it is a convenient place for +my work"; and then as her eyes still looked inquiry, he went on, "I am +writing a book." + +"Oh! and what is it about?" + +"The Albigenses--it is a historical monograph upon the Albigenses." + +"That must be a very interesting subject." + +"It is interesting. It would be too long a story to tell you how I came +to think of writing it, but I do enjoy it very much indeed. It's the +great pleasure of my life. It isn't that I have any ambition, you know," +he said in a disclaiming manner. "It's not the kind of book that will +sell well, or be very generally read, for I know I haven't the power to +make it as readable as it ought to be; but I hope it may be useful to +other writers. I am making it as complete as I can. I have been out +twice to Europe to look up authorities, and spent a long time in the +south of France studying localities." + +"Oh, have you? how delightful it must be! Father writes too," with a +little pride in her tone, "but it's all on medical subjects; we don't +understand them, and he doesn't care to have us. He hates women to +dabble in medicine, and he says amateur physicians, anyhow, are no +better than quacks." + +Mr. Smith made no answer, and they sat silent, till Margaret, fancying +that perhaps he did not like the conversation turned from his book, +asked another question on the subject. She was a well-taught girl, fond +of books, and accustomed to hear them talked over at home, and made an +intelligent auditor. The evening flew by rapidly for both of them, +though their tete-a-tete was seldom disturbed. The man who sat on +Margaret's other side, after staring at her for a long time, asked to be +introduced to her, and took her out once; but it was not very +satisfactory, for he had nothing to talk of but the season, and other +parties of which she knew nothing. However, the figure brought a group +of the ladies together for a moment in the middle of the hall; and a +smiling girl who had been pretty before her face had taken on the tint +of a beetroot, made some pleasant remark to Margaret on the excessive +heat of the room, but was off and away before the answer. Margaret +thought the room comfortably cool--but then she had been sitting still, +while the other had hardly touched her chair since she came. Almost at +the end of the evening too, it dawned upon good-natured, short-sighted, +absent-minded Mrs. Willy Lowe, always put into every list of patronesses +to keep the peace among them, that the pretty girl in pink did not seem +to be dancing much; and she seized and dragged across the room, much as +if by the hair of the head, the only man she could lay hold of--a shy, +awkward undergraduate, of whose little wits she quickly deprived him, by +introducing him as Warner, his real name being Warren. She addressed +Margaret as Miss Parker; but she meant well, and Margaret was grateful, +though they interrupted Mr. Smith in his account of the Roman +Amphitheatre at Arles, and the "Lilies of Arles." But it was well that +she should have something to put into her letter home besides Mr. +Smith--it would never do to have it entirely taken up with him. By the +by, what was his other name? Mr. Smith sounded so unmeaning. She had +heard Ralph Underwood call his friend "Al," which it would not do for +her to use. It might be either Alfred or Albert, and with that proneness +to imagine we have heard what we wish, it really seemed to her as if she +had heard that his name was Albert; she would venture on it, and if she +were mistaken it would be very easy to correct it afterwards; and she +wrote him down as "Mr. Albert Smith." His story she considered as told +in confidence and nobody's affair but his own. + +Cousin Susan had never heard the name, but thought of course he must be +one of the right Smiths, or he wouldn't have been there; there were +plenty of them, and this one, it seemed, had lived much abroad. She +would ask Mrs. Underwood when they next met; but this did not happen +soon, and Cousin Susan never took any pains to expedite events--she was +not able. The world did not make allowance for this habit of hers, but +went on its determined course, and the very next day but one, as +Margaret was lightly skimming with her quick country walk across the +Public Garden on her way to the Art School, Mr. Smith, overtaking her +with some difficulty, asked if he might not carry her portfolio? he was +going that way. She did not know how she could, nor why she should, +refuse and they walked happily on together. People turned to look after +them rather curiously, and Margaret thought it must be because she was +so much taller than Mr. Smith and wondered if he minded it. She should +be very sorry if he did--she was sure she did not if he did not; and she +longed to tell him so, but of course that would never do; and then the +little worry faded from her mind, her companion had so much to say that +was pleasant to hear. + +After that he joined her on her way more and more frequently. She did +not think it could be improper. The Public Garden was free to everybody, +and after all he didn't come every day, and somehow the meetings always +had an accidental air, which seemed to put them out of her control. He +could hardly call on her in the little sitting-room, where Cousin Susan +was almost always lying on her sofa by the fire in a wrapper, secure +from the intrusion of any man but the reigning physician. Sometimes Mrs. +Swain, below, asked Margaret to sit with her, but the Swain sitting-room +was full of their own affairs, the children and servants running in and +out by day, and Dr. Swain, when at home, resting there in the evening. +Margaret felt herself in the way in both places, and preferred her own +chilly little bedroom. A man calling would be a sad infliction, and +have a most tiresome time of it himself. The winter was a warm and +bright one, and it was far pleasanter to stroll along the walks when it +was too early for the school. + +Their acquaintance during this time progressed rapidly in some respects, +more slowly in others. They knew each others' opinions and views on a +vast variety of subjects. On many of these they were in accordance, and +when they differed, Mr. Smith usually brought her round to his point of +view in a way which she enjoyed more than if she had seen it at first. +Sometimes she brought him round to hers, and then she was proud and +pleased indeed. He told her all about his book, what he had done on it, +what he did day by day, and what he projected. On her side, Margaret +told him a world about her own family,--their names, ages, characters, +and occupations,--but on this head he was by no means so communicative. +She supposed the subject might be a painful one, after she had found out +that he was the only survivor of a large family. He spoke of his +parents, when he did speak, respectfully and affectionately, casually +mentioning that his father had been very kind to let him take up +literature instead of going into business. Margaret conjectured that +they were not very well-to-do, and probably uneducated, and that without +any false shame, of which, indeed, she judged him incapable, he might +not enjoy being questioned about them; and she was rapidly learning an +insight into his feelings, and a tender care for them. But one day a +sudden impulse put it into her head to ask his Christian name, as yet +unknown to her, and he quietly answered that it was Alcibiades. + +Margaret did not quite appreciate the ghastly irony of the appellation, +but it hit upon her ear unpleasantly, and yet not as entirely +unfamiliar. She was silent while her mind made one of those plunges +among old memories, which, as when one reaches one's arm into a still +pool after something glimmering at the bottom, only ruffles the water +until the wished-for treasure is entirely lost to view; then she frankly +said. "I was trying to think where I had heard your name before, but I +can't." + +Mr. Smith actually colored, a rare thing for him, and Margaret longed to +start some fresh topic, but could think of none. He did it for her in a +moment, by asking her whether she meant to go to the German next +Thursday. + +"I don't think I shall. I don't know anyone there, and it doesn't seem +worth while." + +"I was going to ask you," said Mr. Smith, still with a slight confusion +which she had never noticed in him before, "if you would mind going, and +sitting it out with me as we did the other night?" + +"No, but--oh, yes, I should enjoy that ever so much, but--would you like +it? You wouldn't go if it were not for me, would you?" + +"I certainly should not go if it were not for you; and I shall like it +better than I ever liked anything in my life." + +It was now Margaret's turn to blush, and far more deeply. They had +reached the corner of West Cedar Street, and parted with but few words +more, for he never went further with her, and she went home in a happy +dream, only broken by a few slight perplexities. What should she wear? +She could not be marked out by that old pink silk again; she must wear +the white, and make the best of it. And how was she to get there? She +knew that it would not have been the thing for Mr. Smith to ask her to +go with him. She was so urgent about the matter that she brought herself +to do what she fairly hated, and wrote a timid little note to Mrs. +Underwood, asking if she might not go with her. Mrs. Underwood wrote +back that she was sorry, but her carriage was full; she would meet Miss +Parke in the cloak-room. Even Cousin Susan was a little moved at this, +and said it was too bad of Mrs. Underwood, though she had no suggestion +to make herself but her former one of a cab. Margaret was apprehensive; +but she knew that when she once got there, Mr. Smith would make it all +right and easy for her, and her little troubles faded away in the light +of a great pleasure beyond. The old white muslin looked better than +might have been expected, and Cousin Susan gave her a lovely pair of +long gloves; and she came down into the sitting-room to show off their +effect, well pleased. On the table stood a big blue box with a card +bearing her name attached to it. Mrs. Swain, who had come in to see her +dress, was regarding it curiously, and Jenny, who had brought it up, was +lingering and peering through the half-open door. + +"Your partner has sent you some flowers, Margaret," said Cousin Susan +with unusual animation. "Do open that immense box, and let us see them!" + +Margaret had never thought of Mr. Smith sending her any flowers. She +wished that Jenny had had the sense to take them into her own room; she +would have liked to open them by herself; but it was of no use to +object, and slowly and unwillingly she untied the cords, and lifted the +lid. Silver paper, sheet upon sheet, cotton wool, layer upon layer; and +then more silver paper came forth. An ineffable perfume was filling her +senses and bringing up dim early memories. It grew stronger, and they +grew weaker, as at last she took out a great bunch of white lilacs, the +large sprays tied loosely and carelessly together with a wide, soft, +thick white ribbon. + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Swain, in a slightly disappointed tone; "yes, very +pretty; I suppose that is the style now; and they are raised in a +hothouse, and must be a rarity at this season." + +"Where's his card?" asked Cousin Susan. But the card was tightly crushed +up in Margaret's hand; she was not going to have "Alcibiades" exclaimed +over. She need not have been afraid, for it only bore the words, "Mr. A. +Smith, Jr." A pencil line was struck through "14,000 Michigan Avenue, +Chicago," and "Garden Street, Cambridge," scribbled over it. + +Margaret wondered how she should ever get her precious flowers safely +upstairs and into the hall--the box was so big; but the moment the +carriage stopped an obsequiously bowing servant helped her out, seized +her load, ushered her up and into the cloak-room, and set down his +burden with an impressiveness that seemed to strike even the chattering +groups of girls. Mrs. Underwood was nowhere to be seen, and Margaret was +glad to have time to adjust her dress carefully. She took out her +flowers at last; but on turning to the glass for a last look, saw that +one of the knots of ribbon on her bodice was half-unpinned, and stopped +to lay her nosegay down, while she secured it more firmly. + +"Oh, don't!" cried a voice beside her; "don't, pray don't put them +down"; and Margaret turned to meet the pretty girl, very pretty now, +whose passing word at the last dance had been the only sign of notice +she had received from one of her own sex. "You'll spoil them," she went +on; "do let me take them while you pin on your bow." + +Margaret, surprised and grateful, yielded up her flowers, which the +other took gingerly with the tips of her fingers, tossing her own large +lace-edged bouquet of red rosebuds on to a chair. + +"You will spoil your own beautiful flowers," said Margaret. + +"Oh, mine are tough! And then--why, they are very nice, of course, but +not anything to compare to yours"--handling them as if they were made of +glass. + +Margaret, astonished, took them back with thanks, and wished a moment +later, that she had asked this good-natured young person to let her go +into the ballroom with her party. But she had already been swept off by +a crowd of friends, throwing back a parting smile and nod, and Margaret, +left alone, and rather nervous at finding how late it was getting, +walked across the room to the little side door that led into the dancing +hall, and peeped through. There sat Mrs. Underwood at the further end, +having evidently forgotten her very existence; and she drew back with a +renewed sensation of awkward uncertainty. + +"They must have cost fifty dollars at least," said the clear, crisp +tones of Miss Kitty Chester, so near her that she started, and then +perceived, by a heap of pink flounces on the floor, that the sofa +against the wall of the ballroom, close by the door, was occupied, +though by whom she could not see without putting her head completely +out, and being seen in her turn. + +"One might really almost dance with little Smith for that," went on the +speaker. + +"Ralph Underwood says he isn't anything so bad as he looks," said the +gentler voice of Margaret's new acquaintance. + +"Good heavens! I should hope not; that would be a little too much," +laughed Kitty. + +"He is very clever, I hear, and has very good manners, considering--and +she seems such a thoroughly nice girl." + +"Why, Gladys, you are quite in earnest about it. But now, do you think +that you could ever make up your mind to be Mrs. Alcibiades?" + +"Why, of course not! but things are so different. A girl may be just as +nice a girl, and,"--she stopped as suddenly as if she were shot. +Margaret could discern the cause perfectly well; it was that Mr. Smith +was approaching the door, looking out, she had no doubt, for her, and +unconsciously returning the bows of the invisible pair. She had the +consideration to wait a few moments before she appeared, and then she +passed the sofa without a look, taking in through the back of her head, +as it were, Miss Kitty's raised eyebrows and round mouth of comic +despair, and poor Gladys's scarlet cheeks. Her own affairs were becoming +so engrossing, that it mattered little to her what other people thought +or said of them; and she crossed the floor on her partner's arm as +unconsciously as if they were alone together, and spoke to the matrons +with the ease which comes of absolute indifference. She did not mind +Mrs. Underwood's short answers, or Mrs. Thorndike Freeman's little +ungracious nod, but the long stare with which the latter lady regarded +her flowers troubled her a little. What was the matter with them? +Somehow, Mr. Smith had given her the impression of a man who counts his +sixpences, and if he had really been sending her anything very +expensive, it was flattering, though imprudent. Margaret was now +beginning to feel a personal interest in his affairs, and its growth had +been so gradual and so fostered by circumstances, that she was less shy +with him than young girls usually are in such a position. She felt quite +equal to administering a gentle scolding when she had the chance; and +when they were seated, and the music made it safe to talk +confidentially, she began with conciliation. + +"Thank you so much for these beautiful flowers." + +"Do you like the way they are put up?" + +"Oh, yes, they are perfect; but they are too handsome for me to carry. +You ought not to have sent me such splendid ones, nor spent so much upon +them. I did not have any idea what they were till I came here and +everybody--" + +"I am very sorry," said Mr. Smith, apologetically, "to have made you so +conspicuous; but really I never thought of their costing so much, or +making such a show. I wanted to send you white lilacs, because somehow +you always make me think of them; don't you remember telling me about +the lilac bushes at Royalston? And when I saw the wretched little bits +at the florist's I told them to cut some large sprays, and never thought +of asking how much they would be." Then, as Margaret's eyes grew larger +with anxiety, he went on, with an air of amusement she had seldom seen +in him, "Never mind! I guess I can stand it for once, and I won't do so +again. I'll tell you, Miss Parke, you shall choose the next flowers I +give you, if you will. Will you be my partner at the next German, and +give me a chance?" + +"I wish I could," said Margaret, "but I shall not be here then. I am +going home." + +"What--so soon?" + +"Yes, my term at the Art School will be over, and I know Cousin Susan +won't want to have me stay after that. She hates to have anyone round. +Mother thought that if I came down, Mrs. Underwood would ask me to visit +her before I went home, but she hasn't, and," with a little sigh, "I +must go. Never mind! I have had a very nice time." + +Mr. Smith seemed about to say something, but checked himself; perhaps he +might have taken it up again, but just then Ralph Underwood approached +to ask Margaret for a turn. Something in her partner's manner had set +her heart beating, and she was glad to rise and work off her excitement. +As she spun round with young Underwood, she felt that his former frigid +indifference was replaced by a sort of patronising interest, a mood that +pleased her better, for she could cope with it; and when he said, "I'm +so glad you like Al Smith, Miss Parke; he is a thorough good fellow," +she looked him full in the face, with an emphatic, "Yes, that he is," +which silenced him completely. + +The men Margaret had danced with the last time asked her again; and she +was introduced to so many more, that she was on the floor a very fair +share of the time. Her reputation as a wall-flower seemed threatened; +but it was too late, for she went home that night from her last girlish +gayety. The attentions which would have been so delightful at her first +ball were rather a bore now. They kept breaking up her talks with Mr. +Smith, making them desultory and fitful; and then she had such a hurried +parting from him at last! It was too bad! and she might not have such +another chance to see him before she left. Their talks were becoming too +absorbing to be carried on with any comfort in the street,--it would be +hateful to say good-by there. Perhaps he felt that himself, and would +not try to meet her there again. She almost hoped he would not; and yet, +as she entered the Public Garden a little later than usual the next +morning, what a bound her heart gave as she saw him, evidently waiting +for her! As he advanced to meet her, he said at once,-- + +"Miss Parke, will you walk a little way on the Common with me? There are +not so many people there, and I have something I wish very much to say +to you." + +Simple as Margaret was, it was impossible for her not to see that Mr. +Smith "meant something"; only he did not have at all the air that she +had supposed natural to the occasion. He looked neither confident nor +doubtful, but calm, and a little sad. Perhaps it was not the great +"something," after all, but an inferior "something else." She walked +along with him in silence, her own face perplexed and doubtful enough. +But when they reached the long walk across the loneliest corner of the +Common, almost deserted at this season, he said, without further +preface,-- + +"I don't think I ought to let you go home without telling you how great +a happiness your stay here has been to me. I never thought I should +enjoy anything--I mean anything of that kind--so much. It would not be +fair not to tell you so, and it would not be fair to myself either. I +must let you know how much I love you. I don't suppose there is much +chance of your returning it, but you ought to know it." + +Margaret's downcast eyes and blushes, according to the wont of girls, +might mean anything or nothing; but her eyes were brimming over with +great tears, that, in spite of all her efforts to check them, rolled +slowly over her crimson cheeks. + +"Don't, pray, feel so sorry about it," said her lover more cheerfully; +"there is no need of that. I have been very happy since I first saw +you,--happier than I ever was before. I knew it could not last long; +but I shall have the memory of it always. You have given me more +pleasure than pain, a great deal." + +For the first and last time in her life, Margaret felt a little provoked +with Mr. Smith. Was the man blind? Then, as she looked down at his face, +pale with suppressed emotion, a great wave of mingled pity and reverence +at their utmost height swept over her, and made her feel for a moment +how near human nature can come to the divine. Had he, indeed, been +blind, light must have dawned for him; though, as it was never his way +to leave things at loose ends, he had probably intended all along to say +just what he did. He stopped short, and said in tones that were now +tremulous with a rising hope,-- + +"Margaret, tell me if you can love me ever so little?" + +"How can I help it, when you have been so good to me?" Margaret +contrived to stammer out, vexed with herself that she had nothing better +to say. Her words sounded so inadequate--so foolish. + +"Oh, but you mustn't take me merely out of gratitude," said he, rather +sadly. + +"Merely out of gratitude!" cried Margaret, her tongue loosened as if by +magic, and exulting in her freedom as her words hurried over each other. +"Why, what is there better than gratitude, or what more would you want +to be loved for? If I had seen you behave to another girl as you have to +me, I might have admired and respected you more than any man I ever saw; +but I shouldn't have had the right to love you for it, as I do now. Oh!" +she went on, all radiant now with beauty and happiness, "how I wish I +could do something for you that would make you feel for one single +moment to me as I feel to you, and then you would never, never talk of +mere gratitude again! + +"Darling, forgive me--only give yourself to me, and I'll feel it all my +life." + + * * * * * + +There was no Art School for Margaret that day, nor any thought of it, as +she and Mr. Smith walked up and down the long walk again and again, +until she was frightened to find how late it was, and hurried home; but +now he proudly walked with her to the very door. They had so much to say +about the past and the future both, and it was hard to tell which was +most delightful; whether they laughingly recalled their first meeting, +or more soberly discussed their future plans. How fortunate it was, +after all, that she was going back so soon, as now Mr. Smith could +follow her in a few days to Royalston. Margaret said she must write to +mamma that night--she could not wait; and Mr. Smith said he hoped that +her parents would not want to have their engagement a very long one. Of +course he had some means besides his books on which to marry. It was +asking a great deal of her father and mother, but perhaps he need not +take her so very much away from them. Would it not be pleasant to have +their home at Royalston, where he could do a great deal of his work, and +run down to Boston when necessary? Margaret was charmed with the idea, +and said that living was so cheap there, and house rent--oh, almost +nothing. + +Margaret found Cousin Susan up and halfway through her lunch. She +apologised in much confusion, but her cousin did not seem to mind. She, +as well as Margaret, was occupied with some weighty affair of her own, +and both were silent till Jenny had carried off the lunch tray, when +both wanted to speak, but Margaret, always the quicker of the two, began +first. Might not Mr. Smith call that evening? He had been saying--of +course it could not be considered anything till her father and mother +had heard--but she thought Cousin Susan ought to know it before he +called at her house--only no one else must know a word till she had +written home. + +This rather incoherent confession was helped out by the prettiest +smiles and blushes; but Mrs. Manton showed none of an older woman's +usual prompt comprehension and pleasure in helping out a faltering +love-tale. She listened in stolid silence, the most repellent of +confidantes, and when it ended in an almost appealing cadence, she broke +out with, "Margaret Parke, I am astonished at you!" + +Margaret first started, then stared amazedly. + +"I would not have believed it if anyone had told me!" went on Mrs. +Manton. "I would never have thought that your mother's daughter could +sell herself in that barefaced way." + +"What do you mean?" + +"As if you did not know perfectly well that you were taking that--that +Smith--" she paused in vain for an epithet; but the mere name sounded +more opprobrious than any she could have selected--"for his money!" + +"What do you mean? Mr. Smith hasn't much money; he may have enough to +live on; but I can't help that." + +"Margaret, don't quibble with the truth. You know well enough that he +will have it all. Who else is there for the old man to leave it to?" + +"What old man?" + +"Why, old Smith, of course! You can't pretend you don't know who he is, +and you have been artful enough to keep it all from me! You knew if I +heard his Christian name it would all come out! I don't know what your +father and mother will say! Mrs. Champion Pryor has been calling here +to-day, and told me the whole story, and how you have been seen walking +the streets with him for hours. I would scarcely credit it." + +"His Christian name! what's that got to do with it? He can't help it!" +Margaret's first words rang out defiantly enough; but her voice faltered +on the last, as her mind made another painful plunge after vanished +memories. Cousin Susan rose, and rang the bell herself; more wonderful +still, she went out into the entry, closing the door after her while she +spoke to Jenny, and when the girl had run rapidly upstairs and down +again, returned with something in her hand. + +"I knew Jenny had some of the vile stuff," she said triumphantly; "she +was taking it last Friday, when I tried to persuade her to send for the +doctor, and be properly treated for her cough." And she thrust a large +green glass bottle under Margaret's eyes with these words on the paper +label: + + "ERIGERON ELIXIR. + + "An Unfailing cure for + + "Ague. Asthma. Bright's Disease. Bronchitis. + Catarrh. Consumption. Colds. Coughs. + Diphtheria. Dropsy. + + "(We spare our readers the remainder of the alphabet.) + + "All genuine have the name of the inventor and proprietor + blown on the bottle, thus: + + "ALCIBIADES SMITH." + +A sudden light flashed upon poor Margaret, showing her forgotten piles +of bottles on the counters of village stores, and long columns of +unheeded advertisements in the country newspapers. She stood silent and +shamefaced. + +"What will your father say?" reiterated Cousin Susan. Dr. Parke's +reputation with the general public was largely founded on a series of +letters he had contributed to a scientific journal exposing and +denouncing quack medicines. + +"I didn't know," said Margaret, helplessly, wondering that the truth +could sound so like a lie, but unable to fortify it by any asseveration. + +"Why, you must have heard about the Smiths: everybody has. They have cut +the most ridiculous figure everywhere. They came to Clifton Springs once +while I was there; and they were really too dreadful; the kind of people +you can't stay in the room with." Cousin Susan had not talked so much +for years, and began to feel that the excitement was doing her good, +which may excuse her merciless pelting of poor Margaret. "You were too +young, perhaps," she went on, "to have heard about Ossian Smith, the +oldest son, but the newspapers were full of him--of the life he led in +London and Paris, when he was a mere boy. The American minister got him +home at last, and a pretty penny old Smith had to pay to get him out of +his entanglements. He had delirium tremens, and jumped out of a window, +and killed himself, soon after--the best thing he could do. But you must +have heard of Lunetta Smith, the daughter; about her running away with +the coachman; it happened only about three or four years ago. Why, the +New York _Sun_ had two columns about it, and the _World_ four. All the +family were interviewed, your young man among the rest, and the comic +papers said the mesalliance appeared to be on the coachman's side. She +died, too, soon after; you must have heard of it." + +"No, I never did. Father never lets me read the daily papers," said +Margaret, a little proudly. + +"Well!" said Cousin Susan, with relaxing energy, "I don't often read +such things myself; but one can't help noticing them; and Mrs. Champion +Pryor has been telling me a great deal about it." + +"And did Mrs. Pryor tell you anything about my--about young Mr. Smith?" + +"Oh, she said he was always very well spoken of. He was younger than the +rest and delicate in health, and took to study; and his father had a +good deal of money in time to educate him. They say he's rather clever, +and the old man is quite proud of him; but he can't be a gentleman, +Margaret--it is not possible." + +"Yes, he can!" burst out Margaret; "he's too much of a man not to be a +gentleman, too!" + +"Well," said Cousin Susan, suddenly collapsing, "I can't talk any +longer. I have such a headache. If you have asked him to call, I suppose +he must come; but I can't see him. What's that? a box for you? more +flowers? Oh, dear, do take them away. If there is anything I cannot +stand when I have a headache, it is flowers about, and I can smell those +lilacs you carried last night all the way downstairs, and through two +closed doors." + +Poor Margaret escaped to her own room with her flowers to write her +letter, the difficulty of her task suddenly increased. Mrs. Manton threw +herself back on the sofa to nurse her headache, but found that it was of +no use, and that what she needed was fresh air. She ordered a cab, and +drove round to see Mrs. Underwood, unto whom, in strict confidence, she +freed her mind. She found some relief in the dismay her recital gave her +hearer. Ralph Underwood was slowly recovering from the fit of +disappointment in which he had wreaked his ill-temper on whoever came +near him, as a younger, badly trained child might do on the chairs and +tables; and his mother, his chief _souffre douleur_; who in her turn had +made all around her feel her own misery, was now beginning ruefully to +count up the damages, of which she felt a large share was due to the +Parkes. She had been wondering whether she could not give a little lunch +for Margaret; she could, at least, take her to the next German, and find +her some better partner than Al Smith. Nothing could have been more +disconcerting than this news. She could not with any grace do anything +for Margaret now to efface the memories of the first part of her visit, +and the Parkes must blame her doubly for the neglect which had allowed +this engagement to take place. Why, even Susan Manton put on an injured +air! + +She craved some comfort in her turn, and after keeping the secret for a +day and a night, told it in the strictest confidence to her intimate +friend, Mrs. Thorndike Freeman, whose "dropping in" was an irresistible +temptation. + +"What!" cried Mrs. Freeman, "is it that large young woman with red +cheeks, whom you brought one evening to Papanti's? I think it will be an +excellent thing; why, the Smiths can use her photograph as an +advertisement for the Elixir." + +"Yes--but then her parents--you see, she's Mary Pickering's daughter." + +"Mary Pickering has been married to a country doctor for five and twenty +years, hasn't she? You may be sure her eyes are open by this time. +Depend upon it, they would swallow Al Smith, if he were bigger than he +is. The daughter seems to have found no difficulty in the feat." + +"Well," said Mrs. Underwood, with a sigh, "perhaps I ought to be glad +that poor Al has got some respectable girl to take him for his money. I +never dreamed one would." + +"It isn't likely that he ever asked one before," said Mrs. Freeman, with +a double-edged sneer. + +The door-bell rang, and the butler ushered in Margaret, who had come to +make her farewell call. Mrs. Underwood looked at her in astonishment. +Was this the shy, blushing girl who had come from Royalston three short +months ago? With such gentle sweetness did she express her gratitude for +the elder lady's kind attentions, with such graceful dignity did she +wave aside a few awkwardly hinted apologies, above all, so regally +beautiful did she look, that Mrs. Underwood felt more than ever that she +would be called to account by the parents of such a creature. Margaret +had quite forgiven Mrs. Underwood, for, she reasoned, if that lady had +done as she ought to have done by her, she would never have had the +chance of knowing Al, a contingency too dreadful to contemplate; and her +forgiveness added to the superiority of her position. Mrs. Underwood +could only reiterate the eternal useless regret of the tempted and +fallen: "If things had not happened just when, and how, and as they +did!" She envied Mrs. Freeman, who was now in the easiest manner +possible plying the young girl with devoted attentions, with large doses +of flattery thrown in. Mrs. Freeman, meanwhile, was mentally resolving +to call on Margaret before she left town, in which case they could +hardly avoid sending her wedding-cards. She foresaw that, as two +negatives make an affirmative, Mr. and Mrs. Alcibiades Smith, Jr., might +yet be worthy of the honor of her acquaintance. + + * * * * * + +Margaret's engagement was no primrose path. It was easier for her when +her lover was away, for he wrote delightful letters, but they rarely had +one happy and undisturbed hour together. Dr. and Mrs. Parke, of course, +gave their consent to the marriage; but they did not like it, and did +not pretend to. Dr. Parke, who, as is the wont of his profession, +placed a high value on physical attractions, and who cared as little for +money as any sane man could, hardly restrained his expressions of +dislike. "What business," he growled, "had the fellow to ask her?" Mrs. +Parke, while trying hard to keep her husband in order, was cold and +constrained herself. Being a woman, she thought less of looks, and had +learned in her married life to appreciate the value of money. She would +have liked Margaret to make a good match; but here was more money by +twenty times than she would have asked, had it only been offered by a +lover more worthy of her beautiful daughter! And yet, if Margaret would +only have been open with her! If she would have frankly said that she +was tired of being poor, and could not forego the opportunity of +marrying a rich man, who was a good sort of man enough, Mrs. Parke could +have understood, and pitied, and forgiven; but to see her put on such an +affectation of attachment for him drove her mother nearly wild. Why, she +acted as if she were more in love than he was! + +The boys had been duly respectful on hearing that their sister's +betrothed was a "Harvard man," but grew contemptuous when they found him +so unfit for athletics. Relations and friends, and acquaintances of +every degree, believed, and still believe, and always will believe, +that Margaret's was one of the most mercenary of mercenary marriages. +Some blamed her parents for allowing it; others thought that their +opposition was feigned, and that they were really forcing poor Margaret +into it. + +The two younger children, Harry and Winnie, at once adopted their new +brother, and stood up stanchly for him on all occasions, and their +sister was eternally grateful to them for it. Her only other support +came, of all the people in the world, from Ralph Underwood. He could not +be best man at the wedding, as he was going abroad with his mother, who +was sadly run down and needed change; but he wrote Margaret a +straightforward, manly letter, in which he said that he trusted, +unworthy as he was, she would admit him to her friendship for Al's sake. +He spoke of all he owed to his friend in such a way that Margaret +perceived that more had passed in their college days than she ever had +been or ever should be told. + +The family discomfort came to a climax on the day before the wedding, +when the great Alcibiades Smith himself and his wife made their +appearance at Royalston. They stayed at the hotel with their suite, but +spent the evening with the Parkes to make the acquaintance of their new +connections. Old Mr. Smith pronounced Margaret "a bouncer." He had +always known, he said, that Al would get some kind of a wife, but never +thought it would be such a stunner as this one. It naturally fell to him +to be entertained by Dr. Parke, or rather to entertain him, which he did +by relating the whole history of the Elixir, from its first invention to +the number of million bottles that were put up the last year, winding up +every period with, "As you're a medical man yourself, sir." Mrs. Smith +was quieter, and though well pleased, a little awe-struck, as her French +maid, her authority and terror, had told her, after Mrs. Parke's and +Margaret's brief call at the hotel that afternoon, that these were, +evidently, "_dames tres comme il faut_." She poured into Mrs. Parke's +ear, in a corner, the tale of all Al's early illnesses, and the various +treatments he had had for them, till her hearer no longer wondered at +their being so little of him; the wonder was, that there was anything +left at all. Then, a propos of marriages, she grew confidential and +almost tearful about their distresses in the case of their daughter +"Luny." She did think Mr. Smith a little to blame for poor Luny's +runaway match. There was an Italian count whom she liked, but her father +could not be induced to pay his debts, and "a girl must marry somebody, +you know," she wound up, with a look at Margaret. + +Margaret, in after years, could appreciate the comedy of the situation. +It is no wonder if it seemed to her at the time the most gloomily +tragical that perverse ingenuity could devise. Al's manner to his +parents was perfect. He was very silent; not more, perhaps, than he +always was in a room full, but she thought he looked fagged and tired, +and wondered how he could bear it. She longed intensely to say something +sympathetic to him; but, like most girls on the eve of their marriage, +she felt overpowered with shyness. If this dreadful evening ever came to +an end, and they were ever married, then she would tell him, once for +all, that she loved him all the better for all and everything that he +had to bear. + + * * * * * + +"They will spoil the whole effect," said Mrs. Parke, despondently, as +she put the last careful touches to Margaret's wedding-dress. It was a +very simple but becoming one of rich plain silk, with a little lace, and +the pearl daisies with diamond dewdrops, sent by the bridegroom, +accorded with it well. But Mr. Smith, senior, had begged that his gift, +or part of it, should be worn on the occasion, and Mrs. Parke now slowly +opened a velvet box, in which lay a crescent and a cross. Neither she +nor Margaret was accustomed to estimate the price of diamonds, and had +they been, they would have seen that these were far beyond their mark. + +"They don't go with the dress," repeated Mrs. Parke, doubtfully. + +"Oh, never mind; to please Mr. Smith," said Margaret, carelessly, as she +bent forward to allow her mother to clasp round her neck the slender row +of stones that held the cross, and to stick the long pins of the +crescent with dexterous hand through the gathered tulle, of the veil and +the thick wavy bands of hair beneath it. + +As she drew herself up to her full height again before the mirror, it +seemed as if the June day outside had taken on the form of a mortal +girl. The gold and blue of the heavens, the pink and white of the +blossoming fields, whose luminous tints rested so softly on hair and +eyes, on cheek and brow, were reflected and intensified in the rainbow +rays of light that blazed on her head and at her throat. It was not in +human nature not to look with one touch of pride and pleasure at the +vision in the glass. But the sight of another face behind hers made her +turn quickly round, with, "O mamma! mamma! what is it?" + +"Nothing, my dear; it's a very magnificent present; only I thought--" + +"Mamma! surely you don't think I care for such things! you don't, you +can't think I am the least bit influenced by them in marrying Al. O +mamma! don't, don't look at me so!" + +"Never mind, my dear. We will not talk about it now. It is too late for +me to say anything, I know, and I am very foolish." + +"Mother!" cried the girl, piteously; "you _must_ believe me! You _know_ +that when Al asked me to marry him, and I said I would, I had no idea, +not the slightest idea, that he had a penny in the world!" + +"Hush, Margaret! hush, my dear! you are excited, and so am I. Don't say +anything you may wish afterwards that you had not. God bless you, and +make you a happy woman, and a good wife; but don't begin your married +life with a--" Mrs. Parke choked down the word with a great sob, and +hastily left the room. It was high noon, and she had not yet put on her +own array. + +Margaret stood stiff and blind with horror. Had she really known, then? +Had her hand been bought? Then she remembered her own innocence when she +told her love. Not so proudly, not so freely, not so gladly, could it +ever have been told to the millionaire's son. A rush of self-pity came +over her, softening the indignant throbbing of her heart, and opening +the fountains of tears. She was at the point where a woman must have a +good cry, or go mad,--but where could she give way? Not here, where +anyone might come in. Indeed, there was Winnie's voice at the door of +the nursery, eager to show her bridesmaid's toilette. Margaret snatched +up two white shawls which lay ready on the sofa, caught up the heavy +train of her gown in one hand, and flew down the front staircase like a +hunted swan, through the library to the sacred room beyond--her father's +study, now, as she well knew, deserted, while its owner was above, +reluctantly dressing for the festivity. She pushed the only chair +forward to the table, threw one shawl over it, and laying the other on +the table itself, sat down, and carefully bending her head down over her +folded arms, so as not to crush her veil by a feather's touch, let loose +the flood-gates. In a moment she was crying as only a healthy girl who +seldom cries can, when she once gives up to it. + +Someone spoke to her; she never heard it. Someone touched her; she never +felt it. It was only when a voice repeated, "Why, Margaret, dearest, +what is the matter?" that she checked herself with a mighty effort, +swallowed her sobs, and still holding her handkerchief over her +tear-stained cheeks and quivering mouth, turned round to find herself +face to face with her bridegroom, who having stopped to take up his +best man, Alick Parke, was waiting till that young man tied his sixth +necktie. She well knew that a lover who finds his betrothed crying her +eyes out half an hour before the wedding has a prescriptive right to be +both angry and jealous; but he looked neither; only a little anxious and +troubled. + +"Darling, has anything happened?" + +"No--not exactly; that is--O Al! they won't believe me!" + +"They! who?" + +"Not one single one of them. Not mother, even mother! I thought she +would--but she doesn't." + +"Does not what?" + +"She does not believe," said Margaret, trying to steady her voice, "that +when you asked me to marry you, and I said I would, that I did not know +you were rich. I told her, but she won't believe me." + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, quietly, though with a little flush on his face; +"it's very natural. I don't blame her." + +"Al!" cried Margaret, seizing both his hands; "O Al, you don't--you +do--_you_ believe me, don't you, Al? _don't_ you?" + +"Of course I do." + + + + +[Illustration] + +POOR MR. PONSONBY + + +On a bright, windy morning in March, Miss Emmeline Freeman threw open +the gate of her mother's little front garden on Walnut Street, +Brookline, slammed it behind her with one turn of her wrist, marched +with an emphatic tapping of boot-heels up the path between the +crocus-beds to the front door, threw that open, and rushed into the +drawing-room, where she paused for breath, and began before she found +it: + +"O mamma! O Aunt Sophia! O Bessie! What do you think? Lily Carey--you +would never guess--Lily Carey--I was never so surprised in my life--Lily +Carey is engaged!" + +Mrs. Freeman laid down her pen by the side of her column of figures, +losing her account for the seventh time; Miss Sophia Morgan paused in +the silk stocking she was knitting, just as she was beginning to narrow; +and Bessie Freeman dropped her brush full of colour on to the panel she +was finishing, while all three exclaimed with one voice, "To whom?" + +"That is the queer part of it. You will never guess. Indeed, how should +you?" + +"To whom?" repeated the chorus, with a unanimity and precision that +would have been creditable to the stage, and with the due accent of +impatience on the important word. + +"To no one you ever would have dreamed of; indeed, you never heard of +him--a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby. It is a most romantic thing. He is an +Englishman, very good family and handsome and all that, but not much +money. That is why it has been kept quiet so long." + +"So long? How long?" chimed in the trio, still in unison. + +"Why, for three years and more. Lily met him in New York that time she +was there in the summer, you know, when her father was ill at the Fifth +Avenue Hotel. But Mr. Carey would never let it be called an engagement +till now." + +"Did Lily tell you all this?" asked Bessie. + +"No, Ada Thorne was telling everyone about it at the lunch party. She +heard it from Lily." + +"I think Lily might have told us herself." + +"She said she did not mean to write to anyone, it has been going on so +long, and her prospects were so uncertain; she did not care to have any +formal announcement, but just to have her friends hear of it gradually. +But she sent you and me very kind messages, Bessie, and she wants you to +take the O'Flanigans--that's her district family, you know--and me to +take her Sunday-school class. She says she really must have her Sundays +now to write to Mr. Ponsonby, poor fellow! She has been obliged to +scribble to him at any odd moment she could, and he is so far off." + +"Where is he--in England?" + +"Oh, dear, no! In Australia. He owns an immense sheep-farm in West +Australia. He belongs to a very good family; but he was born on the +continent, and has no near relations in England, and has rather knocked +about the world for a good many years. He had not very good luck in +Australia at first, but now things look better there, and he may be able +to come over here this summer, and if he does they will perhaps be +married before he goes back. Mr. Carey won't hear it spoken of now, but +Ada says she has no doubt he will give in when it comes to the point. He +never refuses Lily anything, and if the young man really comes he won't +have the heart to send him back alone, for Ada says he must be +fascinating." + +"Lily seems to have laid her plans very judiciously," said Miss Morgan, +"and if she wishes them generally understood, she does well to confide +them to Ada Thorne." + +"And she has been engaged for years!" burst out Bessie, whose mental +operations had meanwhile been going ahead of the rest; "why then--then +there could never have been anything between her and Jack Allston!" + +"Certainly not," replied Emmeline, confidently. + +"Very likely he knew it all the time," said Bessie. + +"Or she may have refused him," said Mrs. Freeman. + +"What is Miss Thorne's version?" said Aunt Sophia. "I shall stand by +that whatever it is. Considering the extent of that young woman's +information, I am perpetually surprised by its accuracy." + +"Ada thinks Lily never let it come to a proposal, but probably let Jack +see from the beginning that it would be useless, and that is why they +were on such friendly terms." + +"Well!" said Aunt Sophia, "I am always glad to think better of my +fellow-creatures. I always thought Jack Allston a fool for marrying as +he did if he could have had Lily, and now I only think him half a one, +since he couldn't. I am only afraid the folly is on poor Lily's side. +However, we must all fulfil our destiny, and I always said she was born +to become the heroine of a domestic drama, at least." + +"Oh, here's Bob!" said Emmeline, as her elder brother's entrance broke +in upon the conversation. "Bob, who do you think is engaged?" + +"You have lost your chance of telling, Emmie," replied the young man, +with a careful carelessness of manner; "I have just had the pleasure of +walking from the village with Ada Thorne." + +"Really, it is too bad of Ada," said Emmeline, as she adjusted her hat +at the glass. "She will not leave me one person to tell by to-morrow. +Bessie, I think as long as we are going to five o'clock tea at the +Pattersons', and I have all my things on, I will set out now and make +some calls on the way. You might dress and come after me. I will be at +Nina Turner's. Mamma and Aunt Sophy can"--but her voice was an +indistinct buzz in her brother's ears, as he stood looking blankly out +of the window at the bright crocus tufts. He had never had any intention +of proposing to Lily Carey himself, and he knew that if he had she would +never have accepted him, yet somehow a shadow had crept over the day +that was so bright before. + +Lily Carey was at that time a very conspicuous figure in Boston society; +that is, in the little circle of young people who went to all the "best" +balls and assemblies. She was also well known in some that were less +select, for the Careys had too assured a position to be exclusive, and +were too good-natured to be fashionable, so that she knew the whole +world and the whole world knew her. To be exact, she was acquainted with +about one five-hundredth part of the inhabitants of Boston and vicinity, +was known by sight to about twice as many, and by name to as many more, +with acquaintance also in such other cities and villages as had +sufficiently advanced in civilisation to have a "set" which knew the +Boston "set." She stood out prominently from the usual dead level of +monotonous prettiness which is the rule in American ballrooms and +gives piquant plainness so many advantages. Her nymph-like figure, +dressed very likely in a last-year's gown of no particular fashion--for +the Careys were of that Boston _monde_ which systematically +under-dresses--made the other girls look small and pinched and +doll-like; her towering head, crowned with a great careless roll of her +bright chestnut hair, made theirs look like barbers' dummies; and her +brilliant colouring made one half of them show dull and dingy, the other +faded and washed out. These advantages were not always appreciated as +such--by no means; unusual beauty, like unusual genius, may fly over the +heads of the uneducated; and it was the current opinion among the young +ladies who only knew her by sight, and their admirers, that "Miss Carey +had no style." Among her own acquaintance she reigned supreme. To have +been in love with Lily Carey was regarded by every youth of quality as a +necessary part of the curriculum of Harvard University; so much so that +it was not at all detrimental to their future matrimonial prospects. Her +old lovers, like her left-over partners, were always at the service of +her whole coterie of adoring intimate friends. If she had no new ideas, +these not being such common articles as is usually supposed, no one +could more cleverly seize upon and deftly adapt some stray old one. She +could write plays when none could be found to suit, and act half the +parts, and coach the other actors; she made her mother give new kinds of +parties, where all the new-old dances and games were brought to life +again; and she set the little fleeting fashions of the day that never +get into the fashion-books, to which, indeed, her dress might happen or +not to correspond; but the exact angle at which she set on her hat, and +the exact knot in which she tied her sash, and the exact spot where she +stuck the rose in her bosom, were subjects of painstaking study, and +objects of generally unsuccessful imitation to the rest of womankind. + +Why Lily Carey at one and twenty was not married, or even engaged, was a +mystery; but for four years she had been supposed by that whole world +of which we have spoken to be destined for Jack Allston. Jack was young, +handsome, rich, of good family, and so rising in his profession, the +law, that no one could suppose he lacked brains, though in general +matters they were not so evident. For four years he had skated with +Lily, danced with her, sung with her, ridden, if not driven, with her, +sent her flowers, and scarcely paid a single attention of the sort to +any other girl; and Lily had danced, sung, ridden, skated with him, at +least twice as often as with any other man. Jack had had the _entree_ of +the Carey house, where old family friendship had admitted him from +boyhood, almost as if he were another son, and was made far more useful +than sons generally allow themselves to be made. He came to all parties +early and stayed late, danced with all the wall-flowers and waited upon +all the grandmothers and aunts, and prompted and drew up the curtain, +and took all the "super" parts at their theatricals. He was "Jack" to +all of them, from Papa Carey down to Muriel of four years old. The Carey +family, if hints were dropped, disclaimed so smilingly that everyone was +convinced that they knew all about it, and that Mrs. Carey, a most +careful mother, who spent so much time in acting chaperon to her girls +that she saw but little of them, would never have allowed it to go so +far unless there were something in it. Why this something was not +announced was a mystery. At first many reasons were assigned by those +who must have reasons for other people's actions, all very sufficient: +Lily too young, Jack not through the law-school, the Allstons in +mourning, etc., etc.; but as one after another exhibited its futility, +and new ones were less readily discovered, the subject was discussed in +less amiable mood by tantalised expectants, and the ominous sentence was +even murmured, "If they are not engaged they ought to be." + +On October 17, 1887, Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe stock was quoted at +90-1/2, and the engagement of Mr. John Somerset Allston to Miss Julia +Henrietta Bradstreet Noble was announced with all the formality of which +Boston is capable on such occasions. It can hardly be said which piece +of news created the greater sensation; but many a paterfamilias who had +dragged himself home sick at heart from State Street found his family so +engrossed in their own private morsel of intelligence that his, with all +its consequences of no new bonnets and no Bar Harbor next summer, was +robbed of its sting. All was done according to the most established +etiquette. Jack Allston had told all the men at his lunch club, and a +hundred notes from Miss Noble to her friends and relatives, which she +had sat up late for the two preceding nights to write, had been received +by the morning post. Jack had sat up later than she had, but only one +single note had been the product of his vigils. + +Unmixed surprise was the first sensation excited as the news spread. It +was astonishing that Jack Allston should be engaged to any girl but Lily +Carey, and it was not much less so that he should be engaged to Miss +Noble. She was a little older than he was, an only child, and an orphan. +Her family was good, her connections high, and her fortune just large +enough for her to live upon with their help. She was of course invited +everywhere, and received the attentions demanded by politeness; but even +politeness had begun to feel that it had done enough for her, and that +she should perform the social _hara-kiri_ that unmarried women are +expected to make at a certain age. She was very plain and had very +little to say for herself. Her relatives could say nothing for her +except that she was a "nice, sensible girl," a dictum expressed with +more energy after her engagement to Jack Allston, when some of the more +daring even discovered that she was "distinguished looking." The men had +always, from her silence, had a vague opinion that she was stupid, but +amiable; the other girls were doubtful on both these points, certain +double-edged speeches forcibly recurring to their memory. Their doubts +resolved into certainties after her engagement was announced, when she +became so very unbearable that they could only, with the Spartan +patience shown by young women on such occasions, hold their tongues and +hope that it might be a short one. Their sole relief was in discussing +the question as to whether Jack Allston had thrown over Lily, or whether +she had refused him. Jack was sheepish and shy at being congratulated; +Lily was bright and smiling, and in even higher spirits than usual; Miss +Noble spoke very unpleasantly to and of Lily whenever she had the +chance; but all these points of conduct might and very likely would be +the same under either supposition. Parties were pretty evenly balanced, +and the wedding was over before they had drifted to any final +conclusion. As the season went on Lily looked rather worn and fagged, +which gave the supporters of the first hypothesis some ground; but when, +in the spring, her own engagement came out, it supplied a sufficient +reason, and gave a triumphant and clinching argument to the advocates of +the second. She looked happy enough then, though her own family gave but +a doubtful sympathy. Mr. Carey refused to say anything further than that +he hoped Lily knew her own mind; she must decide for herself. Mrs. +Carey looked sad, and changed the subject, saying there was no need of +saying anything about it at present; she was sorry that it was so widely +known and talked about. The younger Carey girls, Susan and Eleanor, +openly declared that they hoped it would never come to anything. Poor +Mr. Ponsonby! His picture was very handsome, and the parts of his +letters they had heard were very nice, but he did not seem likely to get +on in the world, and he could not expect Lily to wait forever. "Would +you like to see his picture?--an amateur one, taken by a friend; and +Lily says it does not do him justice." + +The photograph won the hearts of all the female friends of the family, +who saw it in confidence, and increased their desire to see the +original. But Mr. Ponsonby was not able, as had been expected, to come +over in the summer. Violent rains and consequent floods in the +Australian sheep-runs inflicted so much damage upon his stock that the +marriage was again postponed, at least for a year, in which time he +hoped to get things on a better basis. Lily kept up her spirits bravely. +She did not go to Mount Desert with her mother and sisters, but stayed +at home, wrote her letters, hemstitched her linen, declaring that she +was glad of the time to get up a proper outfit, and went to bed early, +keeping a pleasant home for her father and the boys as they went and +came, to their huge satisfaction, and gaining in bloom and freshness; so +that she was in fine condition in the fall to nurse her mother through a +low fever caught at a Bar Harbor hotel, also to wait upon Susan, nervous +and worn down with late hours and perpetual racket, and Eleanor, laid up +with a sprained ankle from an overturn in a buckboard. + +Eleanor, though not yet eighteen, was to come out next winter, Lily +declaring that she should give up balls--what was the use when one was +engaged? She stayed at home and saw that her sisters were kept in +ball-gowns and gloves, no light task, taking the part of Cinderella _con +amore_. She certainly looked younger than Susan at least, who since she +had taken up the Harvard Annex course, besides going out, began to grow +worn and thin. + +One February morning Eleanor's voice rose above the usual babble at the +Carey breakfast-table. + +"Can't I go, mamma?" + +"Where, dear?" + +"Why, to the Racket Club german at Eliot Hall, next Tuesday. It's going +to be so nice, you know, only fifty couples, and we ought to answer +directly; and I have just had notes from Harry Foster and Julian Jervis +asking me for it." + +"And which shall you dance with?" asked Lily. + +"Why, Harry, of course." + +"I would not have any _of course_ about it," said Lily, rather sharply. +Harry Foster was now repeating Jack Allston's late role in the Carey +family, with Eleanor for his ostensible object. "My advice is, dance +with Julian; and I suppose I must see that your pink net is in order, if +Miss Macalister cannot be induced to hurry up your new lilac." + +"Shall we not go, mamma?" + +"Why, mamma, how can we?" broke in Susan, who had her own game in +another quarter. "It's the 'Old Men of Menottomy' night, and we missed +the last, you know." + +"Those old Cambridge parties are the dullest affairs going," said +Eleanor; "I'd rather stay at home than go to them." + +"That is very ungrateful of you," said Lily, laughing, "when I gave up +my place in the 'Misses Carey' to you, for of course I don't go to +either." + +"Can't I go to Eliot Hall with Roland, mamma? He is asked, and Mrs. +Thorne is a patroness; she will chaperon me after I get there." + +"Roland will want to go right back to Cambridge, I know--the middle of +the week and everything! He'll be late enough without coming here." + +"Then can't I take Margaret, and depend on Mrs. Thorne?" went on +Eleanor, with the persistence of the youngest pet. "Half the girls go +with their maids that way." + +"Oh, I don't know, my dear," said poor Mrs. Carey, looking helplessly +from Eleanor, flushed and eager, to Susan, silent, but with a tightly +shut look on her pretty mouth, that betokened no sign of yielding. "I +never liked it--in a hired carriage--and you can't expect _me_ to go +over the Cambridge bridges without James. And I hate asking Mrs. Thorne +anything, she always makes such a favour of it, and the less trouble it +is the more fuss she gets up about it. Do you and Susan settle it +somehow between you, and let me know when it is decided." + +"Let me go with Eleanor, mamma," said Lily. "Mrs. Freeman will probably +go with Emmeline and Bessie, and she will let me sit with her. I will +wear my old black silk and look the chaperon all over--as good a one, I +will wager, as any there. It will be good fun to act the part, and I +have been engaged so long that I should think I might really begin to +appear in it." + +Mr. Carey was heard to growl, as he pushed back his chair and threw his +pile of newspapers on to the floor, that he wished Lily would stop that +nonsensical talk about her engagement once for all; but the girls did +not pause in their chatter, and Mrs. Carey was too much relieved to +argue the point. + +"Only tell me what to do and I will do it," was this poor lady's +favourite form of speech. She set off with a clear conscience on Tuesday +evening with Susan for the assembly at Cambridge, where a promisingly +learned post-graduate of good fortune and family was wont to unbend +himself by sitting out the dances and explaining the theory of evolution +to Miss Susan Carey, who was as mildly scientific as was considered +proper for a young lady of her position. Lily accompanied Eleanor to +more frivolous spheres, where chaperonage was an easier if less exciting +task; for once having touched up her sister's dress in the ante-room, +and handed her over to Julian Jervis, she bade her farewell for the +evening, and herself took the arm of Harry Foster, who, gloomily cynical +at the sight of Eleanor, radiant in her new lilac, with another partner, +had hardly a word to say as he settled her on a bench on the raised +platform where the chaperons congregated, except to ask her sulkily if +she would not "take a turn," which she declined without mincing matters, +and took the only seat left, next to Mrs. Jack Allston, who was +matronising a cousin. + +"What, Lily! you here?" asked Mrs. Thorne. + +"Oh, yes; mamma has gone to Cambridge with Susan, and said I might come +over with Eleanor, and she was sure Mrs. Freeman,"--with a smile at that +lady--"would look after us if we needed it." + +"With the greatest pleasure," said Miss Morgan, who sat by her sister. +"Here have Elizabeth and I both come to take care of our girls, as +half-a-dozen elders sometimes hang on to one child at a circus. We both +of us had set our hearts on seeing _this_ german and would not give up, +so you see there is an extra chaperon at your service." + +"Doesn't your mother find it very troublesome to have three girls out at +once?" asked Mrs. Allston of Lily, bluntly. + +"Hardly three; I am not out this winter, you know." + +"I don't see any need of staying in because one is engaged, unless, +indeed, it were a very short one, like mine." + +Mrs. Allston cast a rapid and deprecatory glance at the "old black +silk," which had seen its best days, and then a still swifter one at her +own gown, from Worth, but so unbecoming to her that it was easy for Lily +to smile serenely back, though her heart sank within her at her +prospects for the evening. + +At the close of the first figure of the german, a slight flutter seemed +to run through the crowd, tending toward the entrance. + +"Who is that standing in the doorway--just come in?" asked Lily, in the +very lowest tone, of Miss Morgan. Miss Morgan looked, shook her head +decidedly, and then passed the inquiry on to Mrs. Thorne, who hesitated +and hemmed. + +"He spoke to me when he first came--but--I really don't recollect--it +must be Mr.--Mr.----" + +"Arend Van Voorst," crushingly put in Mrs. Allston, with somewhat the +effect of a garden-roller. Both of the older ladies looked interested. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Thorne, "I sent him a card when I heard he was in +Boston. I have not seen him--at least since he was very young--but his +mother--of course I know Mrs. Van Voorst--a little." + +"I don't know them at all," said Miss Morgan; "but if that's young Van +Voorst, he is better looking than there is any occasion for." + +"He was a classmate and intimate friend of Jack's," said Mrs. Allston, +loftily. + +"I never saw him before," said Lily, incautiously. + +"He only went out in a very small set in Boston," said Mrs. Allston. "I +met him often, of course." + +"You were too young, Lily, to meet any one when he was in college," said +Miss Morgan, who liked "putting down Julia Allston." + +"It's too bad the girls are all engaged," said the simple-minded Mrs. +Freeman; "he won't have any partner." + +"_He_ wouldn't dance!" said Julia, too tough to feel Miss Morgan's light +touches. "Very likely, as you asked him, Mrs. Thorne, he may feel that +he _must_ take a turn with Ada; and when he knows that Kitty Bradstreet +is with me, very likely he will ask her out of compliment to me. He will +hardly ask me to dance at such a very young party as this; I don't see +any of the young married set here but myself." + +Mr. Van Voorst stood quietly in the doorway, hardly appearing to notice +anything, but when Ada Thorne's partner was called out, and she was left +sitting alone, he walked across the room and sat down by her. He did not +ask her to dance, but it was perhaps as great an honour to have the Van +Voorst of New York sitting by her, holding her bouquet and bending over +her in an attitude of devotion; and if what he said did not flatter her +vanity, it touched another sentiment equally strong in Ada even at that +early period of life. + +"Who is that girl in black, sitting with the chaperons?" + +"Oh, that is Lily Carey." + +"Why is she there?" + +"She is chaperoning Eleanor, her youngest sister, that girl in lilac who +is on the floor now. They look alike, don't they?" + +"Why, she is not married?" + +"No, only engaged. She has been engaged a great while, and never goes to +balls or anything now--only she came here with Eleanor because Mrs. +Carey wanted to go to Cambridge with Susan. There are three of the +Careys out; it must be a dreadful bother, don't you think so?" + +"To whom is she engaged?" + +"To a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby--an Englishman settled in Australia +somewhere. They were to have been married last summer, but he had +business losses. She is perfectly devoted to him. He wrote and offered +to release her, but she would not hear of it. She was very much admired; +don't you think her pretty?" + +"Will you introduce me to Miss Carey? I see Mr. Freeman is coming to ask +you for a turn--will you be so kind as to present me first?" + +There was a sort of cool determination about this young man which Ada, +or any other girl, would have found it hard to resist. She did as she +was bid, not ill-pleased at the general stir she excited as she crossed +the floor with her two satellites and walked up the platform steps. + +"Mrs. Freeman, Miss Morgan, allow me to introduce Mr. Van Voorst. Miss +Carey, Mr. Van Voorst;--I think you know my mother and Mrs. Allston." +And having touched off her train, she whirled away with Robert Freeman, +her observation still on the alert. + +Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Van Voorst exchanged civilities; Mrs. Allston said +Jack was coming soon and would be glad to see him, making room for him +at her side. + +"No, thank you, Mrs. Allston. Miss Carey, may I have the pleasure of a +turn with you?" + +"Oh, Mr. Van Voorst! You are quite out of rule--tempting away our +chaperons--you should ask some of the young ladies; we did not come here +to dance." + +"I shall not dare to ask you, then, Mrs. Allston," he said, smiling, and +offered his arm without another word to Lily. She rose without looking +at him, with a quick furtive motion pulled off her left-hand glove--the +right was off already--got out of the crowd about her and down the +steps, she hardly knew how, and in a moment his arm was around her and +they were floating down the long hall. The quartette left behind looked +rather blankly at each other. + +"Well," said Mrs. Thorne at last, "it really is too bad for Lily Carey +to come and say she did not mean to dance, and then walk off with Arend +Van Voorst, who has not asked another girl here----" + +"And in that old gown!" chimed in Mrs. Allston. + +"It is certainly very unkind in her to look so well in an old gown," +said Aunt Sophia; "it is a dangerous precedent." + +"Oh, auntie!" said Emmeline, who had come up to have her dress adjusted. +"Poor Lily! She has been so very quiet all the winter, never going to +anything, it would be too bad if she could not have a little pleasure." + +"Very kind in you, my dear; but I don't see the force of your 'poor +Lily.' I shall reserve my pity for poor Mr. Ponsonby--he needs it most." + +It was long since Lily had danced, and as for Mr. Van Voorst, he was, as +we have seen, supposed to be above it on so youthful an occasion; but +perhaps it was this that gave such a zest, as if they were boy and girl +together, to the pleasure of harmonious motion. Round and round again +they went, till the dancing ranks grew thinner, and just as the music +gave signs of drawing to a close, they passed, drawing all eyes, by the +doorway. The line of men looking on opened and closed behind them. They +had actually gone out to sit on the stairs, leaving a fruitful topic +behind them for the buzz of talk between the figures. Eleanor Carey, a +pretty girl, and not unlike her sister, bloomed out with added +importance from her connection with one who might turn out to be the +heroine of a drawing-room scandal. + +Meanwhile the two who were the theme of comment sat silent under the +palms and ferns. No one knew better when to speak or not to speak than +Lily, and her companion was looking at her with a curiously steady and +absorbed gaze, to which any words would have been an interruption. It +was not "the old black silk" which attracted his attention, except, +perhaps, so far as it formed a background for the beautiful hands that +lay folded together on her lap, too carelessly for coquetry. No such +motive had influenced Lily when she had pulled off her gloves; it was +only that they were not fresh enough to bear close scrutiny; but their +absence showed conspicuous on the third finger of her left hand her only +ring, a heavy one of rough beaten gold with an odd-looking dark-red +stone in it. Not the flutter of a finger betrayed any consciousness as +his eye lingered on it; but as he looked abruptly up he caught a glance +from under her eyelashes which showed that she had on her part been +looking at him. An irresistible flash of merriment was reflected back +from face to face. + +"What did you say?" she asked. + +"I--I beg your pardon, I thought you said something." + +Both laughed like a couple of children; then he rose and offered his arm +again, and they turned back to the ballroom. + +"Good evening, Jack," said Miss Lily brightly, holding out her hand to +Mr. Allston, who had just come in, and was standing in the doorway. +Jack, taken by surprise, as we all are by the sudden appearance of two +people together whom we have never associated in our minds, looked shy +and confused, but made a gallant effort to rally, and got through the +proper civilities well enough, till just as the couple were again +whirling into the ranks, he spoiled it all by asking with an awkward +stammer in his voice: + +"How's--how's Mr. Ponsonby?" + +"Very well, when I last heard," Lily flung back over her shoulder, in +her clearest tone and with a laugh, soft, but heard by both men. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked her partner. + +"At the recollection of my copy-book--was not yours amusing?" + +"I dare say it was, if it was the same as yours." + +"Oh, they are all alike. What I was thinking of was the page with 'Evil +communications corrupt good manners.'" + +"Yes--Jack was a very good fellow when we were in college +together--but----" + +But "what" was left unsaid. On and on they went, and only stopped with +the music. Lily, having broken the ice, was besieged by every man in the +room for a turn. One or two she did favour with a very short one, but it +was Mr. Van Voorst to whom she gave every other one, and those the +longest, and with whom she walked between the figures; and finally it +was Mr. Van Voorst who took her down to supper. Eleanor and she had all +the best men in the room crowding round them. + +"Come and sit with us, Emmie," she asked, as Emmeline Freeman passed +with her partner; and Emmeline came, half frightened at finding herself +in the midst of what seemed to her a chapter from a novel. Never had the +even tenor of her social experiences,--and they were of as unvarying and +business-like a nature as the "day's work" of humbler maidens--been +disturbed by such an upheaval of fixed ideas; one of which was that Lily +Carey could do no wrong, and another, that there was something "fast" +and improper in having more than one man waiting upon you at a time. + +"Do you mind going now, Eleanor?" asked Lily of her sister, as the +crowd surged back to the ballroom. Eleanor looked rather blank at the +thought of missing the after-supper dance, and such an after-supper +dance; no mamma to get sleepy on the platform; no old James waiting out +in the cold to lay up rheumatism for the future and to look respectfully +reproachful at "Miss Ellis"; no horses whose wrongs might excite papa's +wrath; nothing but that wretched impersonal slave, "a man from the +livery stable" and his automatic beasts. But the Careys were a very +amiable family, the one who spoke first generally getting her own way. +The after-supper dance at the Racket Club german was rather a falling +off from the brilliancy at the commencement, as Arend Van Voorst left +after putting his partner into her carriage, and Julian Jervis and +others of the men thought it the thing to follow his example. + +Two days after the german, "Richards's Pond," set in snowy shores, was +hard and blue as steel under a cloudless sky, while a delicious breath +of spring in the air gave warning that this was but for a day. The rare +union of perfect comfort and the fascination that comes of transient +pleasure irresistibly called out the skaters, and "everybody" was there; +that is, about fifty young men and women were disporting themselves on +the pond, and one or two ladies stood on the shore looking on. Miss +Morgan, who was always willing to chaperon any number of girls to any +amusement, stood warmly wrapped up in her fur-lined cloak and +snow-boots, talking to a Mrs. Rhodes, a mild little new-comer in +Brookline, who had come with her girls, who did not know many people, +and whom she now had the satisfaction of seeing happily mingled with the +proper "set"; for Eleanor Carey, who had good-naturedly asked them to +come, had introduced them to some of the extra young men, of whom there +were plenty; and that there might be no lack of excitement, Mr. Van +Voorst and Miss Lily Carey were to be seen skating together, with hardly +a word or a look for anyone else--a sight worth seeing. + +No record exists of the skating of the goddess Diana, but had she +skated, Lily might have served as her model. Just so might she have +swept over the ice with mazy motion, ever and ever throwing herself off +her balance, just as surely to regain it. As for Arend Van Voorst, he +skated like Harold Hardrada, of whose performances in that line we have +not been left in ignorance. "It must be his Dutch blood," commented Miss +Morgan. + +Ada Thorne, meanwhile, was skating contentedly enough under the escort +of the lion second in degree--Prescott Avery, just returned from his +journey round the world, about which he had written a magazine article, +and was understood to be projecting a book. His thin but well-preserved +flaxen locks, whitey-brown moustache, and little piping voice were +unchanged by tropic heats or Alpine snows, but he had gained in +consequence and, though mild and unassuming, felt it. He had always been +in the habit of entertaining his fair friends with a number of pretty +tales drawn from his varied social experiences, and had acquired a fresh +stock of very exciting ones in his travels. But his present hearer's +attention was wandering, and her smiles unmeaning, and in the very midst +of a most interesting narrative about his encounter with an angry llama, +she put an aimless question that showed utter ignorance whether it took +place in China or Peru. Prescott, always amiable, gulped down his +mortification with the aid of a cough, and then followed the lady's gaze +to where the distant flash of a scarlet toque might be seen through the +thin, leafless bushes on a low spur of land. + +"That is Lily Carey, is it not?" he asked. "How very handsome she is +looking to-day! She has grown even more beautiful than when I went away. +By-the-by, is that the gentleman she is engaged to?" + +"Oh, dear, no! Why, that is Arend Van Voorst! Don't you know him? She is +engaged to a Mr. Ponsonby, an English settler in South Australia." + +"I see now that it is Mr. Van Voorst, whom I met several times before I +left," said Prescott, with unfailing amiability even under a snubbing. +Then, cheered by the prospect of again taking the superior position, he +continued in an impressive tone: "But it is not astonishing that I +should have taken him for Mr. Ponsonby. I believe I had the pleasure of +meeting that gentleman in Melbourne when I was in Australia, and the +resemblance is striking, especially at a little distance." + +"Did you, indeed?" asked Ada, inwardly burning with excitement, but +outwardly nonchalant. The remarkable extent of Miss Thorne's knowledge +of everyone's affairs was not gained by direct questioning, which she +had found defeated its own object. "It is rather odd you should have +happened to meet him in Melbourne, for he very seldom goes there, and +lives on a ranch in quite another part of Australia." + +"But I did meet him," replied Prescott. "He had come to Melbourne on +business, and I met him at a club dinner--a tall, handsome, light-haired +man. He sat opposite to me and we did not happen to be introduced, but I +am certain the name was Ponsonby. He took every opportunity of paying me +attention, and said something very nice about American ladies, which +made me feel sure he must have been here. Of course I did not know of +Miss Carey's engagement, or I should certainly have made his +acquaintance." + +"The engagement was not out then, and of course he could not speak of +it. Now I think of it, Mr. Van Voorst does really look a great deal like +Mr. Ponsonby's photograph." + +"I will speak of it to Miss Carey when I get an opportunity," said +Prescott, delighted. "The experiences one has on a long journey are +singular, Miss Thorne. Now as I was telling you----" + +Ten minutes later the whole crowd were gathering round Miss Morgan, who +made a kind of nucleus for those with homeward intentions, when Mr. +Avery and Miss Thorne came in the most accidental way right against Mr. +Van Voorst and Miss Carey. By what means half the crowd already knew +what was in the wind, and the other half knew that something was, we may +not inquire. It was not in human nature not to look and listen as the +four exchanged proper greetings. + +"Mr. Avery, Lily, has been telling me that he had the pleasure of +meeting Mr. Ponsonby in Melbourne," said Ada, "and thought you would be +glad to hear about it." + +"Oh, thank you," said Lily, quietly, "I have had letters written since, +of course. You were not in Melbourne very lately, Mr. Avery?" + +"Last summer--winter, I should say. You know, Miss Carey, it is so +queer, it is winter there when it is summer here--it is very hard to +realise it. But it is always agreeable to meet those who have really +seen one's absent friends, don't you think so?" + +"Oh, very!" + +"Mr. Ponsonby was looking very well and in very good spirits. I fancied +he showed a great interest in American matters, which I could not +account for. I wish I had known why, that I might have congratulated +him. I hope you will tell him so." + +"Thank you," said Lily again. She spoke with ease and readiness, but her +beautiful colour had faded, and there was a frightened look in her eyes, +as of someone who sees a ghost invisible to the rest of the company. + +"Mr. Avery was struck with Mr. Ponsonby's resemblance to you, Mr. Van +Voorst," said Ada; "you cannot be related, can you?" + +"Come," said Aunt Sophia, suddenly, "what is the use of standing here? I +am tired of it, for one, and I am going to the Ripley's to get a little +warmth into my bones, and all who are going to the Wilson's to-night had +better come too. Emmie, you and Bessie _must_, Lily, you and Susie and +Eleanor _had better_--you see, Mr. Van Voorst, how nice are the +gradations of my chaperonage." + +"Let me help you up the bank, Miss Morgan," said Arend; "it is steep +here." + +"Thank you--come, Mrs. Rhodes. Mrs. Ripley isn't at home, but we shall +find hot bouillon and bread and butter." + +"I had better not, thank you. I don't know Mrs. Ripley," stammered, with +chattering teeth, poor Mrs. Rhodes, shivering in her tight jacket and +thin boots. + +"You need not know her if you do come, as she is out," said Miss Morgan, +coolly; "and if you don't, you certainly won't, as you will most likely +die of pneumonia. Now Fanny may think you a fool for doing so, if you +like, but I'm not going to have her call me a brute for letting you. So +come before we freeze." + +Mrs. Rhodes meekly followed her energetic companion, both gallantly +assisted up the bank by Arend Van Voorst, who was devoted in his +attentions till they reached the house. He never looked towards Lily, +who, pale and quiet, walked behind with Emmeline Freeman, and as soon as +she entered the Ripley drawing-room ensconced herself, as in a nook of +refuge, behind the table with the big silver bowl, and ladled out the +bouillon with a trembling hand. The young men bustled about with the +cups, but Arend only took two for the older ladies, and went near her no +more. + +Not a Ripley was there, though it was reported that Tom had been seen on +the ice that morning and told them all to come in, of course. No one +seemed to heed their absence; Miss Morgan pulled Mrs. Ripley's own +blotting-book towards her and scribbled a letter to her friend; Eleanor +Carey threw open the piano, and college songs resounded. Mrs. Rhodes was +lost in wonder as she shyly sipped her soup, rather frightened at Mr. +Van Voorst's attentions. How could Mrs. Ripley ever manage to make her +cook send up hot soup at such an unheard-of hour? And could it be the +"thing" to have one's drawing-room in "such a clutter"? She tried to +take note of all the things lying about, unconscious that Miss Morgan +was noting _her_ down in her letter. Then came the rapid throwing on of +wraps, rushing to the station, and a laughing, pell-mell boarding of the +train. Mr. Van Voorst had disappeared, and Ada Thorne said he was going +to walk down to Brookline and take the next train from there--he was +going to New York on the night train and wanted a walk first. No one +else had anything to say in the matter, certainly not Lily, who +continued to keep near Miss Morgan and sat between her and the window, +silent all the while. As the train neared the first station, she jumped +up suddenly and hastened toward the door. + +"Why, Lily, what are you about?" "Lily, come back!" "Lily, this is the +wrong station!" resounded after her; but as no one was quick enough to +follow her, she was seen as the train moved on, walking off alone, with +the same scared look on her face. + +"There is something very odd about that girl," said Miss Morgan, as soon +as she was with her nieces on their homeward path. + +"It is only that she feels a little overcome," said Lily's staunch +admirer. "You know what Prescott Avery said about Mr. Van Voorst looking +like Mr. Ponsonby, and I'm sure he does. Don't you think him very like +his photograph?" + +"There is a kind of general likeness, but I must say of the two Arend +Van Voorst looks better fitted to fight his way in the bush, while Mr. +Ponsonby might spend his ten millions, if he had them, pleasantly +enough. Perhaps the idea is what has 'overcome' Lily, as you say." + +"Now, auntie, I am sure the resemblance might make her feel badly. She +has not seen Mr. Ponsonby for so long, and that attracted her to Mr. Van +Voorst; and it was so unkind of people to say all the hateful things +they did at the ball." + +"I must say myself, that she rather overdoes the part of Mrs. Gummidge. +It looks as if there was something more in it than thinking of the 'old +un.' If she really is so afraid of Mr. Ponsonby, he must look more like +Arend Van Voorst than his picture does. Well--we shall see." + +Late that afternoon Arend Van Voorst walked up Walnut Street westward, +drawn, as so many have been, by the red sunset glow that struck across +the lake beyond, through the serried ranks of black tree trunks, down +the long vista under the arching elms. Straight toward the blazing gate +he walked, but when he came to where the road parted, leaving the +brightness high and inaccessible above high banks of pure new snow that +looked dark against it, and dipping down right and left into valleys +where the shade of trees, even in winter, was thick and dark, he paused +a moment and then struck into the right hand road, the one that did not +lead toward the Careys' house. It was not till two or three hours later +that he approached it from the other side, warm with walking, and having +apparently walked off his hesitation, for he did not even slacken his +pace as he passed up the drive, though he looked the house, the place, +and the whole surroundings over with attentive carefulness. + +The Careys lived in a fascinating house, of no particular style, the +result of perpetual additions to the original and now very old nucleus. +As Mr. Carey's father had bought it fifty years ago, and as his +progenitors for some time further back had inhabited a much humbler +dwelling, now vanished, in the same town, it was called, as such things +go in America, their "ancestral home." It was the despair of architects +and decorators, who were always being adjured to "get an effect +something like the Carey house." The component elements were simple +enough, and the principal one was the habit of the Carey family always +to buy everything they wanted and never to buy anything they did not +want. If Mr. and Mrs. Carey took a fancy to a rug, or a chair, or a +picture, or a book, they bought it then and there, but they would go on +for years without new stair-carpets or drawing-room curtains--partly +because they never had time to go and choose them, partly because it was +such a stupid way to spend money; it was easier to keep the old ones, or +use something for a substitute that no one had ever thought of before, +and everybody was crazy to have afterwards. + +How much of all this Arend Van Voorst took in I cannot tell, but he +looked about him with the same curiosity after the house door had opened +and he was in the hall, and then as the parlour door opened, and he saw +Lily rising from her low chair, before the fire afar off at the end of +the long low room, a tall white figure standing out in pure, cool +darkness against the blaze, like the snow-banks against the sunset. He +did not know whether he wanted or not to see her alone, but on one point +he was anxious--he wanted to know whether he was to be alone with her or +not. The room was crowded with objects of every kind; two or three dogs +and cats languidly raised their heads from the sofas and ottomans as he +passed, and for aught he knew two or three children might be in the +crowd. Lily had the advantage of him; she knew very well that her mother +had driven into town with the other girls to the Wilsons' "small and +early"; that the younger children had been out skating all the afternoon +and had gone to bed; that the boys were out skating now and would not be +home for hours yet; and that her father, shut into his study with the +New York stock list, was as safe out of the way as if he had been +studying hieroglyphics at the bottom of the Grand Pyramid. So she was +almost too unconcerned in manner as she held out her hand and said, +"Good evening." + +He took the offered hand absently, still looking round the room, and as +he took in its empty condition, gave a sigh of relief. She sat down, +with a very slight motion toward a chair on the other side of the fire. +He obeyed mechanically, his eyes now fixed on her. If she was lovely in +her "old black," how much more was she in her "old white," put on for +the strictest home retirement. It was a much washed affair, very +yellowish and shrunken, and clinging to every line of her tall figure, +grand in its youthful promise. She had lost her colour, a rare thing for +her, and she had accentuated the effect of her pale cheeks and dark +eyelashes with a great spray of yellow roses in the bosom of her gown. + +"I thought you had gone to New York," she said, trying to speak lightly. + +"No," slowly; "I could not go without coming here first. I must see you +once at your own home." Then with an eager thrill in his voice, "He has +never been here, I believe?" + +"No," said Lily; "he was never here." + +"I have come the first, then; let him come when he wants to; I shall not +come again, to see him and you together." + +Both sat silently looking into the fire for a few moments, which the +clock seemed to mark off with maddening rapidity. Then Lily said in a +low tone, but so clearly that it could have been heard all over the +room, "If you do not wish to see him, he need never come at all." + +"For God's sake, Miss Carey!" burst out Arend, "show a little feeling in +this matter. I don't ask you to feel for me. I knew what I was about +from the first, and I took the risk. But show a little, feign a little, +if you must, for him. You know I love you. If your Mr. Ponsonby were +here to fight his own battles for himself, I would go in for a fair +fight with him, and give and ask no quarter. But--but--he is far away +and alone, keeping faith with you for years. If he has no claim on you, +he has one on me, and I'll not forget it." + +He paused, but Lily was silent. She looked wistful, yet afraid to speak. +Something of the same strangely frightened look was in her eyes that had +been there that afternoon. Arend, whose emotion had reached the stage +when the sound of one's own voice is a sedative, went on more calmly: + +"And don't think I make so much of a sacrifice. I am sure now you never +loved or could have loved me. If you had, there would have been some +struggle, some pleading of old remembrances. Your very feeling for me +would have roused some pity, at least, for him. He has your first +promise; I do not ask you to break it. You can give him all you have to +give to anyone, and perhaps he may be satisfied." + +"You need not trouble yourself about Mr. Ponsonby," said Lily, now cold +and calm, "as no such person exists." + +"What!" exclaimed her hearer, in bewildered astonishment. Wild visions +of the luckless Ponsonby, having heard by clairvoyance, or submarine +cable, of his own pretensions, and having forthwith taken himself out of +the way by pistol or poison, floated through his brain, and he went on +in an awe-struck tone, "Is he--is he dead?" + +"He never lived; Mr. Ponsonby, from first to last, is a pure piece of +fiction. Oh, you need not look so amazed; I am not out of my senses, I +assure you. Ask my father, ask my mother--they will tell you the same. +And now, stop! Once for all, just once! You must hear what I have to +say. I shall never ask you to hear me again, and you probably will never +want to." + +He looked blankly at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment. + +"Oh," she broke out suddenly, "you do not know--how should you?--what it +is to be a girl! to sit and smile and look pleasant while your life is +being settled for you, and to see some man or other doing his best to +make an utter snarl of it, while you must wait ready with your 'If you +please,' when he chooses to ask you to dance with him or marry him. And +to be a pretty girl is ten times worse. Everyone had settled ever since +I was seventeen that I was to marry Jack Allston. Both his family and my +family took it as a matter of course, and liked it well enough, as one +likes matters of course. I liked it well enough myself. I cannot say now +that I was ever in love with Jack Allston, but he seemed bound up in me, +and I was very fond of him, and thought I should be still more so when +we were once engaged. All the girls in my set expected to marry or be +called social failures, and where was I ever to find a better match in +every way than Jack? If I had refused him everyone would have thought +that I was mad. I had not the least idea of doing so, but meanwhile I +was in no hurry to be married. I thought it would be nicer to wait and +have a little pleasure, and I did have a great deal, till I was +eighteen, then till I was nineteen, and so on----" + +She stopped for a moment, for her voice was trembling, but with an +effort recovered herself and went on more firmly: + +"Just as people began to look and talk, and wonder why we were so slow, +and why it did not come out, and just as I began to think that I had had +enough of society, and that perhaps I ought to be willing to settle +down, I began to feel, too, that my power over him was going, gone! The +strings I had always played upon so easily were broken, and though I ran +over them in the old way, I could not win a sound. I hardly had time to +feel more than puzzled and frightened, when his engagement came out, and +it was all over. But there! it was the kindest way he could have done +it. I hate to think of some of the things I did and said to try if he +had indeed ceased to care for me; but they were not _much_, and if I had +had time I might have done more and worse. I was struck dumb with +surprise like everybody else. My father and mother were hurt and +anxious, but it was easy to reassure them, and without deception. I +could tell them the truth, but not the whole truth. I did not suffer +from what they supposed. My heart was not broken, or even seriously +hurt, but oh! how much I wished at times that it had been! Had I really +loved and been forsaken, I could have sat down by the wayside and asked +the whole world for pity, without a thought of shame. But for what had I +to ask pity? I was like a rider who had been thrown and broken no bones, +in so ridiculous a way that he excites no sympathy. What if he is +battered and bruised? If he complains, people only laugh. I held my +tongue when my raw places were hit. I had the pleasure of hearing that +Julia Noble had been saying--" and here Lily put on Mrs. Allston's +manner to perfection--"'I hope poor Miss Carey was not disappointed. +Jack has, I fear, been paying her more attention than he ought; but it +was only to divert comment from me; dear Jack has so much delicacy of +feeling where I am concerned!'--No, don't say anything; let me have +done, I will not take long. I could not get away from it all, and what +was I to do? To go on in society and play the same game over with some +one else was unendurable; I was getting past the age for that. Susan was +out and Eleanor coming out, and I felt I ought to have taken myself out +of their way, in the proper fashion. To take up art or philanthropy was +not in my line. The girls I knew were not brought up with those ideas +and didn't take to them unless they started with being odd, or ugly, or +would own up to a disappointment. My place in the world had suited me to +perfection, and now it was hateful and no other was offered me. + +"It was just at this time that the devil--to speak plainly, as I told +you I was going to--put the idea of poor Mr. Ponsonby into my head. An +engaged girl is always excused from everything else. My lover was not +here to take up my time, and as I could postpone my wedding indefinitely +whenever I pleased, my preparations need not be hurried. I dropped +society and all the hateful going out, and had delicious evenings at +home with papa when I was supposed to be writing my long letters to +Australia. I thought I could drop it whenever I liked. I did not know +what I was doing." + +"You? Perhaps not!" exclaimed Arend, with an exasperating air of +superior age; "but your father and mother--what in the name of common +sense were they thinking about to allow all this?" + +"Oh, you must not think they liked it; they didn't. To tell you all the +truth, I don't think they half-understood it at first. I did not tell +them until I had dropped a hint of it elsewhere, and I suppose they +thought I had only given a vague glimpse of a possible future lover +somewhere in the distance. Poor dears! things have changed since they +were young, and they don't realise that if a man speaks to a girl it is +in the newspapers the next day. I had not known what I was doing. I +really have not told as many lies as you might think. Full half that you +have heard about Mr. Ponsonby never came from me at all. You don't know +how reports can grow, especially when Ada Thorne has the lead in them. +Not that she exactly invents things, but a hint from me, and some I +never meant, would come back all clothed in circumstance. I could not +wear my old pink sash to save my others without hearing that that +tea-rose tint was Mr. Ponsonby's favourite colour. Ponsonby grew out of +my hands as this went on; and really the more he outgrew me the better +I liked him, and indeed I ended by being rather in love with him. He had +to have so many misfortunes, too, and that was a link between us." + +"But," said her hearer, suddenly, "did not Prescott Avery meet him at +Melbourne?" + +"Oh, if you knew Prescott, you would know that he meets everybody. If it +had been a Mr. Percival of Java, instead of Ponsonby of Australia, he +would have remembered him or something about him. Still, that was a +dreadful moment. I felt like Frankenstein when his creature stalks out +alive. Poor Mr. Ponsonby! I shall send him his _coup-de-grace_ by the +next Australian mail. People will say that I did it in the hope of +catching you, and have failed. Let them--I deserve it. And now, Mr. Van +Voorst, please to go. I have humiliated myself before you enough. I said +I would tell you the truth, and you have heard it all. If you must +despise me, have pity and don't show it." + +Lily's voice, so clear at first, had grown hoarse, and her cheeks were +burning in a way that caused her physical pain. She rose to her feet and +stood leaning on the back of her chair and looking at the floor. + +"Go! and without a word? Do you think I have nothing to say? Sit +down!"--as she made some little motion to go. "I have heard you, and +now you must hear me." + +Lily sank unresistingly into her chair, while he went on, "You say girls +have a hard time; so they do--I have always been sorry for them. But +don't you suppose men have troubles of their own? You say a pretty girl +has the worst of it. How much better off is the man, who, according to +the common talk, has only to 'pick and choose'; who walks along the row +of pretty faces to find a partner for the dance or for life, as it +happens--it is much the same. The blue angel is the prettiest and the +pink the wittiest; very likely he takes the yellow one, who is neither, +while in the corner sits the white one, who would have suited him best, +and whom he hardly saw at all. If he thinks he is satisfied, it is just +as well. I was not unduly vain nor unduly humble. I knew my wealth was +the first thing about me in most people's minds, but I was not a +monster, and a girl might like me well enough without it. A woman is not +often forced into marriage in this country. I had no notions of +disguising myself, or educating a child to marry, as men have done, to +be loved for themselves alone. What is a man's self? My wealth, my place +in the world were part of me. I was born with them. I should probably +find some nice girl who appreciated them and liked me well enough, and +I felt that I ought to give some such one the chance--and yet--and +yet--I wanted something more. + +"In this state of mind I met you at the ball. Very likely if I had seen +you among the other girls, I might not have given you more than a +passing glance; but I thought you were married, and the thrill of +disappointment had as much pleasure as pain, for I felt I could have +loved. But you were not married, only engaged. What's an engagement? It +may mean everything or nothing. For the life of me I could not help +trying how much it meant to you. What must the man be, I thought, as I +sat by you on the stairs, whom this girl loves? He should be a hero, and +yet, as such things go, he's just as likely to be a noodle. You +laughed--I could have sworn you knew what I was thinking." + +"Yes! I remember. I was thinking how nicely you would do for a model for +my Ponsonby," Lily said. Their eyes met for a moment with a swift flash +of intelligence, but the light in hers was quenched with hot, unshed +tears. + +"No laugh ever sounded more fancy free! I felt as if you challenged me; +and if he had been here I would have taken up the challenge--he or I, +once for all. But he was alone and far away, and I could not take his +place. Why did I meet you on the pond, then? why did I come here +to-night? Because I wanted to see if I could not go a little further +with you. I wanted something to remember, a look, a tone, a word, that +ought not to have been given to any man but your promised husband; +something I could not have asked if I had hoped to be your husband. My +magnanimity toward Ponsonby, you see, did not go the length of behaving +to his future wife with the respect I would show my own." + +"You have shown how much you despise me," said Lily, springing to her +feet, her hot tears dried with hotter anger, but her face white again. +"That might have been spared me. I suppose you think I deserve it. Very +well, I do, and you need not stay to argue the matter. Go!" + +"Go! Why I should be a fool to go now, and you would be--well, we will +call it mistaken--to let me. After we have got as far as we have, it +would be absurd to suppose we can go back again. We know each other now +better than nine tenths of the couples who have been married a year. I +don't ask you to say you love me now; I am very sure you can, and I know +I can love you--infinitely----" + +"Oh, but--but you said you would not take his place--Mr. Ponsonby's. Can +you let everyone think you capable of such an act of meanness? And if +you could not respect me as your wife, how can you expect others to? Can +we appear to act in a way to deserve contempt without despising each +other?" + +"There will be a good deal that is unpleasant about it, no doubt; but +everyone's life has some unpleasantness. It would be worse to let a +dream, even a dream of honor, come between us and our future. You made a +mistake and underestimated its consequences, but it would be foolish to +lose the substance of happiness because we have lost the shadow. We will +live it down together and be glad it is no worse." + +"But I have been so wrong, so very wrong--I have too many faults ever to +make anyone happy." + +"Of course you have faults, but I know the worst of them and can put up +with them. I have plenty of my own which you may be finding out by this +time. I am very domineering--you will have to promise to obey me, and I +shall keep you to it; and then I can, under provocation, be furiously +jealous." + +"You are not jealous of Jack Allston?" she whispered. + +"Jealous of old Jack? Oh, no! I shall keep my jealousy for poor Mr. +Ponsonby." + +Society had been so often agitated by Lily Carey's affairs that it took +with comparative coolness the tidings that she was to be married to +Arend Van Voorst in six weeks. Miss Morgan said she supposed Lily was +tired of "engagements," and wanted to be married this time. Her niece +Emmeline shed tears over "poor Mr. Ponsonby," and refused to act as +bridesmaid at his rival's nuptials; and in spite of her aunt's scoldings +and Lily's entreaties, and all the temptations of the bridesmaids' pearl +"lily" brooches and nosegays of Easter lilies, arranged a visit to her +cousins in Philadelphia to avoid being present. Miss Thorne had no such +scruples, and it is to her the world owes a lively account of the +wedding; how it was fixed at so early a date lest "poor Mr. Ponsonby" +should hurry over to forbid the banns, and how terribly nervous Lily +seemed lest he might, in spite of the absolute impossibility, and though +Ponsonby, true gentleman to the last, never troubled her then or after. + +"Poor Mr. Van Voorst, I should say!" exclaimed Mrs. Jack Allston. "I am +sure he is the one to be pitied. But do tell me all the presents that +have come in, for Jack says that I must give them something handsome +after such a present as he gave me when we were married." + +Mrs. Van Voorst received the tidings of her son's approaching marriage +rather doubtfully. "Yes--the Careys were a very nice family; she knew +Mrs. Carey was an Arlington, and her mother a Berkeley, and his +mother--but--Miss Carey was very handsome, she had heard--with the +Berkeley style of beauty and the Arlington manner, but--but--she did not +mind their being Unitarians, for many of the very best people were, in +Boston, but--but--but--indeed, my dear Arend, I have heard a good deal +about her that I do not altogether like. I hope it may not be +true--about her keeping Jack Allston hanging on for years, as +_pis-aller_ to that young Englishman she was engaged to all the +while--and finally throwing him over--and now she has thrown over this +Mr. Ponsonby too!" + +"Will you do just one thing for me, dear mother," asked her son; "will +you forget all you have _heard_ about Lily, and judge her by what you +_see_?" + +Mrs. Van Voorst had never refused Arend anything in his life, and could +not now. By what magic Lily, in their very first interview, won over the +good lady is not known, but afterwards no mother-in-law's heart could +have withstood the splendid son and heir with which she enriched the Van +Voorst line. The young Van Voorsts were allowed by all their friends to +be much happier than they deserved to be. Long after the gossip over +their marriage had ceased, and it was an old story even to them, Arend +was still in love with his wife. Lily was interesting; she had that +quality or combination of qualities, impossible to analyse, which wins +love where beauty fails, and keeps it when goodness tires. Her own +happiness was more simple in its elements. She was better off than most +women, and knew it--the last, the crowning gift, so often lacking to the +fortunate of earth. She thought her husband much too good for her, +though she never told him so. Nay, sometimes when she was a little +fretted by his exacting disposition, for Arend was a strict martinet in +all social and household matters and, as he had said, would be minded, +she would sometimes more or less jestingly tell him that perhaps after +all she had made a mistake in not keeping faith with "poor Mr. +Ponsonby." + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +MODERN VENGEANCE + + +"Well, Lucy, I must say I never saw anything go off more delightfully!" + +"It would hardly fail to, with such interesting people," said Mrs. Henry +Wilson. + +"Why, every one said they thought it would be most difficult to manage; +a sort of half-public thing, you know, to entertain those delegates or +whatever they call them; they said it was well you had it, for no one +else could possibly have made it go so well." + +"I have no doubt most of them could, if they had all the help I +had--from you, especially! I only wish I could have made it a dinner, +instead of a lunch; but Henry is so very busy, just now, and I dared not +attempt a dinner without him." + +"Oh, my dear!" said her mother-in-law, "a doctor's time is always so +occupied; they all know that. And dear Henry, of course, is more +occupied than most." + +"Perhaps it is as well," said the younger lady, "that they could come by +daylight, as it is so far out of town; Medford is pretty, even in +winter." + +"Oh, yes! so they all said. Lady Bayswater thinks it is the prettiest +suburb of Boston she has yet seen; and she admired the house, too, and +you, and everything. 'Mrs. Wilson,' she said to me, 'your charming +daughter-in-law is the prettiest American woman I have seen yet.'" And +Mrs. Wilson, senior, a little elderly woman, to whom even her rich +mourning dress could not impart dignity, jerked her heavy black +Astrachan cape upon her shoulders, and tied its wide ribbons in a +fluttering, one-sided way. + +"She is very kind." + +"And they all said so many things--I can't remember them." + +"I am glad if they were pleased," said Mrs. Henry Wilson, rousing +herself; "to tell the truth, I have not been able to think much of the +lunch, or how it went off." + +"Why, dear Henry is well, isn't he?" + +"Yes, as well as usual, but a good deal troubled about----" + +"Oh, the poor little Talbot boy! how is he?" + +"I do not know. Henry, of course, gives no opinion; but I am afraid it +is a very serious case. Membranous croup always is alarming, you know." + +"Yes, indeed! sad--very sad; and their only boy, too, now. To be sure, +if any one can save him, dear Henry can; but then, what with losing the +other, and so much sickness as they have had, and Mabel expecting again, +I really don't see how they are to get along," said Mrs. Wilson, fussing +with her pocket handkerchief. + +"It is very hard," assented her daughter-in-law, with a sigh. + +"I do pity poor Eugene. What can a man do? I saw all those children +paddling in the wet snow only last week; very likely that brought it on. +If I had let mine do so when they were little, I should have expected +them to have croup, and diphtheria, and everything else. I would not +mention it to any one but you, but I do think Mabel has always been very +careless of her children." + +"Poor Mabel!" said Mrs. Henry Wilson, with a look of angelic compassion. +"Remember how many cares and troubles she has had, and all her own +ill-health. We all make mistakes sometimes in the care of our children, +with the very best intentions. I let Harry play out in that very snow. I +feared then that you might not approve; but you were not here, and he +was so eager!" + +"Oh, but, my dear, you always look after Harry so well! Those Talbot +children had no rubbers on; and then, Harry is so much stronger than +his father was. I do think your management most successful. I only wish +poor Eugene had a wife like you." And as her hearer was silent: "I must +go. Darling Harry is still at gymnasium, isn't he? and I suppose it is +no use waiting for dear Henry, now. My love to them both; and do come +round when you can, dear, won't you?" And after a little more fuss in +looking for her muff and letting down her veil, and a prolonged series +of embraces of her daughter-in-law, she departed. + +Young Mrs. Wilson, left alone, sat down in front of a glowing fire to +review her day; but earlier memories appealed so much more powerfully, +that in another moment she was reviewing her whole past life--an +indulgence she rarely allowed herself. + +If the poet in the country churchyard was struck with the thought of +greatness that had perished unknown for lack of opportunity, how doubly +he might have pointed his moral with renown missed by being of the wrong +sex. In clear perception of her ends, and resistless pursuit of them, +Lucy Morton had not been inferior in her sphere to Napoleon in his; and +if, after all, she was not so clever as she thought herself, why, +neither was he. To begin with, she was born in a _cul-de-sac_ ending at +a cow pasture. But what is that to genius? "This lane," she thought, +"shall never hem me in"; and from earliest childhood she struggled to +grow out of it, like a creeper out of a hole, catching at every aid. + +She was early left an orphan, and lived with her grandfather, a +well-to-do retired grocer, and her grandmother, and a maiden aunt. There +was one other house in the lane, and in it lived a great-aunt, widow of +the grocer's brother and partner, and a maiden first cousin once +removed. They were a contented family, and liked the seclusion of their +place of abode, which was clean and quiet, and where the old gentleman +could prune his trees, and prick out his lettuces unobserved. He read +the daily paper, and took a nap after his early dinner. The women made +their own clothes, and dusted their parlours, and washed their dishes, +and as the _cul-de-sac_ was loathed of servants, they often had the +opportunity of doing all their own work, which they found a pleasant +excitement, and in their secret souls preferred. They belonged to the +Unitarian church, which marked them as slightly superior to the reigning +grocer, who went to the "Orthodox meeting," but did not give them the +social intercourse they would have found in churches of inferior +pretensions. The elite of Medford, in those early days, was chiefly +Unitarian, and it respected the Mortons, who gave generously of their +time and money whenever they were asked. Its men spoke highly of "old +Morton," and were civil to him at town and parish meetings; and its +women would bow pleasantly to his female relatives after service and +speak to them at sewing circles; and would inquire after the rest of the +family when they could remember who they were. More, the Mortons did not +ask or wish. They knew enough people on whom to make formal calls, gave +or went to about six tea-parties a year, and exchanged visits with +cousins who lived in Braintree. + +Lucy was sent to the public school, and taught sewing and housework at +home. She proved an apt pupil at both, and showed no discontent with her +daily routine. She was early allowed to sit up to tea, even when company +came; and had she asked to bring home any little girl in her school to +play with her, her grandmother would not have objected. But she did not +ask, nor was she ever seen with her schoolmates in the shady, rural +Medford roads. + +Perhaps she might have pined for companions of her own age, but that +fortune had provided her with some near by. At the entrance of the lane +where she lived, but fronting on a wider thoroughfare, was the house of +Mrs. Wilson, a widow of good means and family, who filled less than her +proper space among her own connections, for she went out but little, +being engrossed with the care and education of her two delicate little +boys to a degree which rendered her fatiguing as a companion--the +poorness of their physical constitutions, and the excellence of their +moral natures, being her one unending theme. They were not strong enough +for the most private of schools, and were too good to be exposed to its +temptations, and always had a governess at home. + +"Henny" and "Cocky" Wilson--their names were Henry and Cockburn, and +their light red hair, combed into scanty crests on top of their heads, +had suggested these soubriquets--were the amusement of their mother's +contemporaries, and the scorn of their own. A hundred tales were told of +them: as, how when Mrs. Wilson first came home from abroad, where she +had lived long after her husband's death there, she brought her boys to +Sunday-school, with the audible request to the superintendent that as +they were such good little children, they might, if possible, be placed +among those of similar, if not equal, qualities; thereby provoking the +whole school for the next month to a riotous behaviour which poor Mr. +Milliken found it difficult to subdue. + +Mrs. Wilson's friends made some efforts to induce their boys to be +friendly with hers, with the result that one July evening, Eugene +Talbot, a bright-eyed, curly-haired little dare-devil, who led the +revels, patronisingly invited them to join a swimming party after dark +in the reservoir which supplied Medford with water--one of those +illegal, delicious sprees which to look back on stirs the blood of age. +Henny and Cocky gave no answer till they had gone, as in duty bound, to +consult their mother, who replied: "My dears, I think this would be a +very uncomfortable amusement. Should you not enjoy much more taking a +bath in our own bathroom, with plenty of soap and hot-water?" It +required a great effort of self-control on Eugene's part not to knock +the heads of the two together when they reported their mother's opinion +to him _verbatim_; but he had the feeling that it would be as mean to +hit one of the Wilsons as to hit a girl, and he only sent them to +Coventry, where they grew up, apparently careless. They were content at +home, and they could now and then play with Lucy Morton, who had +contrived to make their acquaintance through the garden fence, and who, +though three years younger than Cocky, the youngest, was quite as +advanced in every way. + +When Mrs. Richard Reed, the social leader of the town, tired of taking +her children into Boston to Papanti's dancing-class, prevailed upon the +great man to come out and open one in Medford, she could not be +over-particular in her selection of applicants, the requisite number +being hard to make up; but when she opened a note signed, "Sarah C. +Morton," asking admission for the writer's granddaughter, she paused +doubtfully. "It is a queerly written note, but it looks like a lady's +somehow," she said, consulting her privy council. + +"Oh, that is old Mrs. Morton, who comes to our church, don't you know? +They are very respectable, quiet people. I don't believe there's any +harm in the little girl," said adviser number one. + +"She is a pretty, well-behaved child. I have noticed her at +Sunday-school," added councillor number two. + +"She is a sweet little thing," said Mrs. Wilson, who was present, though +not esteemed of any use in the matter. "My dear boys sometimes play with +her, and are so fond of her, and they would not like any little girl who +was not nice." + +"Oh, well, she can come!" said Mrs. Reed, dashing off a hasty consenting +line, and thinking, "She will do to dance with Henny and Cocky; none of +the other girls will care to, I imagine, and I don't want to hurt the +old lady's feelings. What can have made her think of asking?" + +It will easily be guessed that Miss Lucy had been the instigator of +this daring move. She had begun by asking her grandfather, who never +refused her anything, and backed by his sanction had succeeded in +persuading her grandmother, who wrote an occasional letter, but who +hardly knew what a note was, to sit down and write one to Mrs. Reed. So +to the dancing-school she went, alone; for neither grandmother, aunts, +nor cousin ever dreamed of accompanying her. But she felt no fears. She +was a pretty little girl, and took to dancing as a duck to water; but +she did not presume on the popularity these qualities might have won her +with the older boys, but patiently devoted herself to Henny and Cocky +and the younger fry, whom Mr. Papanti was only too glad to consign to +her skilful pilotage. Their mothers approved of her, especially after +she had asked Mrs. Reed, with many blushes, "if she might not sit near +her, when she was not dancing?" "I have to come alone," she added shyly, +"for my dear grandmamma is so old, you know, and my aunt is far from +strong." Both of these women could have done a good day's washing, and +slept soundly for nine hours after it; but of this Mrs. Reed knew +nothing, and pronounced Lucy a charming child, with such sweet manners, +took her home when it rained, and asked her to her next juvenile party. + +It was an easy step from this to Lucy Morton at one-and-twenty, where +her quick backward glance next lighted, the popular favourite of the +best "set" of girls in Medford, and extending her easy flight beyond +under the drilling chaperonage of their mammas. She pleased all she met +of whatever age or sex, though to more dangerous distinctions she made +no pretensions. She had early learned the great secret of popularity, so +rarely understood at any age, that people do not want to admire +you--they want you to admire them. No one called Lucy Morton a beauty; +but it was wonderful how many beauties were numbered among her intimate +friends, how many compliments they received, what hosts of admirers they +had, and how brilliant, clever, and full of promise were these admirers. +Indeed, after a dance or a talk with Miss Morton, the young men could +not help thinking so themselves. + +As for Lucy, she was early consigned by public opinion to one or other +of the Wilsons. Henny and Cocky had miraculously survived their mother's +coddling and clucking, and had kept alive through college and +professional training, though looking as if it had been a hard struggle. +Henny had, at the period on which his wife was now dwelling, returned +from his medical studies at Vienna, while Cocky still lingered in Paris +studying architecture. + +There was very little opening for Dr. Henry Wilson in his native town; +but his mother would have been wretched had he gone anywhere else. He +set up an office in her house, and his friends said it was a good thing +he had money enough to live on, for really none of them could be +expected to call him in. He practised among the poor, who seemed to like +him; but of course they could not afford to be particular. + +He would be a very good match for Lucy Morton, if not for any girl of +his own circle. They lived close by each other and had always been +intimate; and she was such a sweet, amiable girl, just the one to put up +with Mrs. Wilson's tiresome ways! If her relations were scarcely up to +the Wilson claims, at least they were quiet and harmless, and would +probably leave her a little money. + +With such reasoning did all the neighbouring matrons allay their +anxieties as to their favourite's future. Their daughters dissented. The +latter had gradually come to perceive that Lucy had no intentions of the +kind. Not one of them but thought her justified in looking higher, and +not one envious or grudging comment was spoken or even thought when they +began to regard her as destined for Eugene Talbot--not even by those, +and they were many, who themselves cherished a budding preference for +Eugene, a flirt in a harmless, careless way. Everyone allowed that his +attentions this time were serious. How naturally, how irresistibly, the +pleasing conviction stole upon Lucy's own heart! + +Mrs. Wilson, a wife of many years, here sprang to her feet, with her +heart beating hard, and her cheeks flushing scarlet with shame. So would +they flush on her death-bed, if the remembrance of that time came to +disturb her then--the only time when her prudence had for once failed, +the only time when she had trusted any one but herself, when she had +really, truly, been so sure that Eugene Talbot loved her, that she had +let others see she thought so. She had disclaimed, indeed, all knowledge +of his devotion, but she had disclaimed it with a blushing cheek and +conscious smile, like a little--little--oh, _what_ a little fool! + +There was no open wound to her pride to resent. He had never spoken out +plainly, and no mere attentions from an emperor would have won a +premature response from Miss Morton; nor was it possible for her to +betray her preference to anyone else. How she found out, as early and as +surely as she did, that his hour for speaking was never to come, was +marvellous even to herself; but she was clairvoyant, so to speak, so +fully did she extract from those who surrounded her all they knew, and +much they did not know. Before Eugene's engagement to Mabel Andrews was +a fixed fact, before Mabel herself knew it was to come, she did, and +took her measures accordingly. + +One terrible, long afternoon she spent in her own room behind closed +shutters, seeing even then, in the darkness, Eugene, proud and handsome, +breathing words of love in the Andrews's beautiful blossoming garden +among all the flowers of May, while a glow of rapturous surprise lighted +up Mabel's sweet, impassive face. It might have been some consolation to +another girl to know her own superiority, and to feel sure that Eugene +was marrying the amiable, refined, utterly commonplace Miss Andrews with +the view to the push her highly placed relatives could, and doubtless +would, give him in his business; but the knowledge only added a sting to +Lucy's sufferings. She bore them silently, tasting their full +bitterness, and then left the room, the very little bit of girlishness +in her composition gone forever, but still ready to draw from life the +gratifications proper to maturer years. She could imagine that revenge +might not lose its taste with time, and she had already some faint +conception of the form hers might take. + +She walked down the lane and far enough along the street to turn about +and be overtaken by Dr. Wilson on his way home. Of course he stopped to +speak to her, and then walked a little way up the lane with her; and +when Miss Morton once had Dr. Wilson all to herself in a _cul-de-sac_, +it was impossible for him to help proposing to her if she were inclined +to have him. Indeed, he was much readier at the business than she had +expected. In an hour both families knew all about it; and the next day +the engagement was "out," to the excitement of their whole world. It was +such a romantic affair--childish attachment--Henry Wilson so deeply in +love, and so hopeless of success, his feelings accidentally betrayed at +last! On these details dilated all Lucy's young friends. They did not +think they could ever have loved him themselves, but they admired her +for doing so. When, some time after, the grander but less interesting +match between the Talbot and Andrews clans was announced, it chiefly +roused excitement as having doubtless been the result of pique on +Eugene's part--an idea to which his subdued appearance gave some colour; +and he was pitied accordingly. + +His wedding was a quiet one, overshadowed by the glories of Lucy's. No +one would have dreamed of her grandparents doing the thing with such +magnificence; but they were so surprised and pleased, for to them the +Wilson connection was a lofty one; and Mrs. Wilson was so flatteringly +eager and delighted, that Lucy found them pliant to her will. Her +grandfather unhesitatingly put at her disposal a larger sum than his +yearly expenditure had ever amounted to; and her exquisite taste in +using it made her wedding a spectacle to be remembered, and conferring +distinction on everyone who assisted in the humblest capacity, while +still each one of these had the flattering conviction that without his +or her presence the whole thing would have been a failure. The bride of +ten years back could not but recall with approval her own demeanour on +the occasion, when, "as one in a dream, pale and stately she went," the +very personification of feeling too deep to be stirred by the unregarded +trifles of her wedding pomp. + +The tale of the ensuing years she ran briefly over, for it was one of +uncheckered prosperity. Dr. Wilson's reputation had steadily grown. +Hardly a year after his marriage he had successfully performed the +operation of tracheotomy upon a patient almost _in articulo mortis_; and +although it was only on the ninth child of an Irish labourer, it got +into all the newspapers, and ran the rounds of all circles. It was +wonderful how such cases came in his way after that, till no one in +town dreamed of calling in anyone else for a sore throat; the other +physicians being, as Mrs. Henry Wilson was wont to say, "very good +general practitioners, _but_--" At thirty-five he had an established +fame as a specialist, with an immense consulting practice extending all +over and about Boston, his personal disadvantages forgotten in the +prestige of his marvellous skill, indeed, rather enhancing it. + +He took his successes very indifferently; but his wife showed a loving +pride in them, too simple and too well controlled to excite envy, gently +checking his mother's more outspoken exultation, and backing him up in +his refusal of all solicitations to move into Boston, well knowing his +constitution could never stand a town life. Money was now less of an +object to him than ever. Lucy's grandfather had died in peace and +honour, leaving a much larger estate than any one had dreamed possible. +The lane had been extended into a road, and the cow pasture had been cut +up into building lots. All the Morton property had risen in value, and +all was one day to be Lucy's; and on the very prettiest spot in it she +now lived, in a charming house designed (with her assistance) by her +brother-in-law, that rising young architect, Cockburn Wilson, so +strikingly original, and so delightfully convenient, that photographs +and plans of it were circulated in every direction, bringing the +architect more orders than he wanted or needed; for though with not much +more to boast of in the way of looks than his brother, he had made +another amazing stroke of Wilson luck in marrying that great heiress, +Miss Jenny Diman. She was a heavy, shy young person, who had been +educated in foreign convents, and had missed her proper duty of marrying +a foreign nobleman by being called suddenly home to settle her estate. +She had taken a fancy to the clever, amusing Mrs. Wilson, had visited +her, and found the little _partie carree_ at her pretty house +delightful, she hardly knew why; but it was evident that her hostess's +married life was most successful, and Lucy told her that dear Cockburn +had in him the making of as devoted a husband as dear Henry. + +Dear Cockburn for some time showed no eagerness to exercise his latent +powers; but his delicacy in addressing so great an heiress once +overcome, swelled into heroic proportions, and made the love affairs of +two extremely plain and quiet people into a wildly romantic drama. They +seemed surprised, but well content, when they found themselves settled +in their pretty home, still prettier than Dr. Wilson's, because it +showed yet newer ideas; and Mrs. Cockburn Wilson, who had never known +society, developed a taste for it, which her sister-in-law well knew how +to direct. + +Lucy's active mind had just run down the stream of time to the present, +and was boldly projecting itself forward into the future, and the +throbbing pulses her one painful memory had raised were subsiding in the +soothing task of planning the decorations for a dinner party for which +Jenny's invitations were already out. She had just decided that it would +make a good winter effect to fill all Jenny's lovely Benares brass bowls +with red carnations, when her husband entered the room. + +The crest of sandy locks, which had won Dr. Wilson his boyish title, had +thinned and faded now. It was difficult to say of what colour it had +been; and his face was of no colour at all. He had no salient points, +and won attention chiefly by always looking very tired. This evening he +looked doubly so. "Dear Henry, I am so glad!" cried his wife, springing +up to give him an affectionate embrace. "You will have something to +eat?" and, as he nodded silently, she rang the bell twice, the only +signal needed at any hour to produce an appetising little meal at once; +and she herself waited on him while he ate. + +"How is the little boy?" she asked timidly. + +"Very low." + +"Are you going back?" + +"Directly. I am going to operate as soon as Stevens gets there. I have +telephoned for him." + +"Is there any hope?" + +"Can't say." + +"Can I do anything?" + +"You might come and take the other children home with you--all but the +baby." + +"I can just as well have her too." + +"I would rather have her there; her mother needs her." + +"Yes, I suppose you don't want Mabel in the room while the operation is +going on." + +"I don't want her there at all. She's of no use." + +"Poor thing!" + +"She can't help it." + +"Could I do anything there? If I can, Jenny will take the children, I +know." + +"No, there's no need of that." The doctor threw out his sentences +between mouthfuls of food automatically taken from a plate replenished +by his wife. + +"What nurse have they?" + +"They've had Nelly Fuller--she is a very fair one; but of course they +need two now, and one of them first rate, so I got Julia Mitchell for +them." + +"Julia! but how ever could you make Mrs. Sypher give her up?" + +"I had no trouble." + +"And how can the Talbots ever manage to pay her?" + +"That will be all right. I told them she would not expect her full price +for such a short engagement, in a gap between two others. I settled it +with her myself beforehand, of course." + +"I am very glad you did," said Lucy, with another loving caress, which +he hardly seemed to notice. He looked at his watch, and told her she had +better hurry and change her dress. In five minutes they walked together +down the street under the beautiful arch of leafless elms, where the +snowy air brought glowing roses into Lucy's cheeks, and an elastic +spring into her tread. Her husband shrank up closer inside his fur-lined +coat, and slipped a case he had taken from his study from one cold hand +to another. + +"I hope the children will be ready," from her; "Julia will see to that," +from him,--were all the words that passed between them on their way. + +The Talbot house was but a few streets off. Lucy did not often enter it; +but the picture of battered, faded prettiness it presented, taken in at +a few glances, and heightened each time it was seen, was deeply stamped +on her mind. There was no spare money to keep up appearances here. +Mabel's father had been unfortunate in his investments and extravagant +in his expenditures, and died a poor man, while her relations had grown +tired of helping Eugene, whose business talents had not fulfilled their +early promise. He always seemed, somehow, to miss in his calculations. + +What little order there now was in the place was due to the energetic +rule of Julia Mitchell, already felt from garret to cellar. By her care +the three little girls were dressed and ready, and were hanging, eager +and excited, round their mother, who sat, her baby on her lap, with +tear-washed cheeks and absent gaze, all pretence to the art of dress +abandoned. She hardly looked up as her beautiful, richly clad visitor +entered; but when she felt the tender pressure of the hand that Lucy +silently extended, she gave way to a fresh burst of grief. + +"Stevens here? asked Dr. Wilson, aside, of Miss Mitchell. + +"Yes, sir; he's upstairs; and Miss Fuller, and Mr. Talbot--_he's_ some +use, and the boy wants him. I don't believe you'll ever get him to take +the ether unless his papa's 'round; and I thought, if Miss Fuller would +stay outside and look after _her_?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then, if Mrs. Wilson will take the others off, why, the sooner the +better." + +The doctor looked at his wife, who was quick to respond, though with her +whole soul she longed to stay. She wanted to see Eugene; to know how he +was taking it; to hear him say something to her, no matter what; to give +him the comfort and support his wife was evidently past giving; and +then, she wanted to see her husband as nearly as possible at the moment +he had saved the child's life. She did not let the thought that he might +fail enter her mind,--not in this case, the crowning case of his life! +For this alone he had toiled, and she had striven. She gave his hand one +hard squeeze, as if to make him catch some of the passionate longing of +her heart, and then drew back with the fear that it might weaken rather +than strengthen his nerve. He looked as immobile as ever; and she turned +to take the children's little hands in hers. + +"Oh, Lucy!" faltered out her successful rival, "how good of you! I can't +tell you--it does not seem as if it could be true that my beautiful +Eugene--" Here another burst of sobs shook her all over. Lucy's own +tears, as she kissed the poor mother, were bright in her eyes, but they +did not fail. She led the two older girls silently away, and young Dr. +Walker, who had been standing in the background, followed with the third +in his arms, his cool business air, just tempered by a proper +consideration for the parents' feelings, covering his inward excitement +at this first chance of assisting the great physician at an operation. +As he helped the pretty Mrs. Wilson, adored of all her husband's pupils, +into her handsome carriage, which had come for her, and settled his +little charge on her lap, he was astonished, and even awe-struck, to see +that she was crying. "I never thought," he said to himself, "that Mrs. +Wilson had so much feeling! but to be sure she has a boy just this +little fellow's age!" + + * * * * * + +At nine o'clock, the Talbot children, weary of the delights of that +earthly paradise, Harry Wilson's nursery, had been put to bed, and Lucy +was waiting for her husband. She looked anxiously at his face when he +came, but it told her nothing. + +"How--is he?" she faltered out at last. + +"Can't tell as yet." + +"Was the operation successful?" + +"Yes, that was all right enough." + +"And how soon shall you know if he's likely to rally?" + +"Impossible to say." + +"Any bad signs?" + +"No, nothing apparent as yet." + +"You must be very tired," she said, with a tender, unnoticed touch of +her hand to his forehead. + +"Not very." + +"Have you been there all this time?" + +"No, I have made one or two other calls. I was there again just now." + +"Do have some tea," said Lucy, striking a match and lighting the alcohol +lamp under her little brass kettle, to prepare the cup of weak, +sugarless, creamless tea, the only luxury of taste which the doctor, +otherwise rigidly keeping to a special unvaried regimen, allowed +himself; and while he sipped it languidly, she watched him intently. If +only he would say anything without being asked! But she could not wait. + +"How is Mabel?" + +"Very much overcome." + +"She has no self-control." + +"She is fairly worn out." + +"I am glad Julia is there." + +"Yes, I should not feel easy unless she were. But Talbot himself behaved +very well. He is more of a hand with the boy than the mother is. He +seems bound up in him." + +"Poor fellow!" said Lucy, sympathetically. Her husband did not respond. +"You had better go to bed, dear, and get some sleep," she went on. "You +must need it." + +"I told Julia I would be there before six," said Dr. Wilson, rising. +"She must get some rest then. So if you'll wake me at five--" + +"Of course," said Lucy, who was as certain and much more agreeable than +an alarm clock; "and now go to sleep, and forget it all. You have had a +hard day, you poor fellow!" + +The doctor threw his arm round his wife, as she nestled closer to him, +and they turned with a common impulse to the next room, where there own +only child lay sleeping. Father and mother stood long without a word, +looking at the bright-haired boy, whose healthy breathing came and went +without a sound or a quiver; but when the mother turned to go, the +father lingered still. She did not wait for him, for her exquisite tact +could allow for shyness in a husband as well as in anyone else, and she +had no manner of jealousy of it. If he wanted to say his prayers, or +shed a few tears, or go through any other such sentimental performance +which he would feel ashamed to have her witness, why, by all means let +him have the chance; and she kept on diligently brushing her rich, dark +hair, that he might not find her waiting. + +There was no dramatic scene when little Eugene Talbot was declared out +of danger; it came gradually as blessings are apt to do; but after Dr. +Wilson had informed his wife day after day for a week that the child was +"no worse," he began to report him as "a little better," and finally +somewhat grudgingly to allow that with care there was no reason why he +should not recover. By early springtime the little fellow was playing +about in the sun and air; his sisters had been sent home all well and +blooming, with many a gift from Mrs. Wilson, and their wardrobes bearing +everywhere traces of her dainty handiwork; the mother had overflowed in +tearful thanks, and the father had struggled to speak his in vain. + + * * * * * + +"I wish I knew how small I could decently make Talbot's fee," said Dr. +Wilson, as he sat at his desk, in a half-soliloquising tone, but still +designed to catch his wife's ear, and win her judicious advice. + +But it was not till after he had repeated the words, that she said +without raising her head from her work, while her fingers ran nervously +on, "I will tell you what I should do." + +"Well?" as she paused. + +"I should make out my bill for the usual amount, and send it in +receipted. Won't you, Henry? I wish you would, so very, very much!" she +went on, surprised at the dawning of a look she had never seen before on +his face. + +"That would be hardly treating him like a gentleman," he began; and then +suddenly, "Lucy, how can you keep up such a grudge against Eugene +Talbot?" + +Lucy's work dropped, and she sat looking full at him, her pretty face +white as ashes, and her eyes dilated as if she had heard a voice from +the grave. + +"I know," he resumed, "that he has injured you on the tenderest point on +which a man can injure a woman, but surely you should have got over +thinking of that by this time. Is it noble, is it Christian to bear +malice so long? Can't you be satisfied without crowding down the coals +of fire so very hard upon his head? I never," went on Dr. Wilson, +reflectively, "did like that passage, though it is in the Bible." + +"Oh, Henry!" + +"Put it on a lower ground. Is it just to me? Do you owe me nothing? I +don't forget how much I owe you. You have made the better part of what +little reputation I have; you are proud of it; you would like to have me +more so. But do you suppose I can feel pride in anything earthly, while +another man has the power so to move my wife? You may think you do not +love him now; but where you make a parade of forgiveness, resentment +lingers; and where revenge is hot, love is still warm." + +"Then you knew it all?" gasped Lucy; "but how--how could you ever want +to marry me?" + +"Because, my dear, I loved you--all the time--too well not to be +thankful to get you on any terms. I gave you credit for too much good +sense and high principle to let yourself care for him when you were once +married; and--I am but a poor creature, God knows! but I hoped I could +win your love in time. There, my dear, don't! I knew I could! I am very +sure I did." + +He raised her head from where she had buried it among the sofa pillows, +and let her weep out a flood of the bitterest tears she had ever shed, +on his shoulder. It was long before she could check them enough to +murmur, "Forgive me--only forgive me!" + +"Dearest, we will both of us forget it." + + * * * * * + +"Mr. Talbot wants to see you, ma'am." + +"Is the doctor out?" + +"Yes, ma'am. He did not ask for the doctor. He said he wanted to speak +to you for a minute." + +"Show him into the library, and tell anyone else who calls that I am +engaged for a few moments." + +Mrs. Wilson hastened downstairs, to find her visitor rather nervously +turning over the books on her table. Eugene's once bright chestnut curls +were as thin now as Henry Wilson's sandy locks, and his attire was +elegant with an effort, though he still kept his fine eyes and winning +smile. + +"Won't you sit down?" + +"No, thank you. I only came--I have not much time--I came on +business--if you are not too much engaged?" + +"Not at all," said Lucy, quietly seating herself, which seemed to soothe +her companion's nerves. + +He sat down, too, and began abruptly, "I cannot begin to tell you how +much we owe to your husband!" + +"We have both sympathised so much in your sorrow and anxiety! If he +could do anything at all, I am sure he is only too glad, and so am I." + +"It was not only his saving our child's life, but he has done--I can't +tell you what he has done for us in every way, as if he had been a +brother--" + +Lucy raised her head proudly, with a glad light in her eyes. Eugene +looked at her a moment, and then went on with a sigh; "I couldn't say +this to him, but I must to you, though of course you don't need any +praise I can give him to tell you what he is." + +"No," said Lucy, "it is the greatest happiness of my life to know it--it +would be if no one else did; not but what it is very pleasant to have +him appreciated," she added, smiling. + +"I know," said Eugene, now growing red and confused, "that no recompense +could ever express all we felt. Such services as his are not to be +bought with a price, but I could not feel satisfied if I did not give +him all that was in my power. I shall never rest till I have done +so,--but--the fact is," he hurried on desperately, "I know his charges +are very small--they seem ridiculously so for a man of his +reputation--but the fact is, I am unable just now to meet all my +obligations; the ill-health of my family has been terribly expensive--I +must ask a little time--I am ashamed to do so, but I can do it better +from him than from anyone else--and from you." + +"Oh, don't mention it!" cried Lucy, eagerly, "the sum is a mere trifle +to us; it would not matter if we never had it. To whom should you turn +to be helped or understood, if not to old friends like us?" + +"I hope to be able to pay all my just debts, and this among the first." + +"Oh, of course! but don't feel the least bit hurried about it! Henry +will never think of it till the time comes. He always forgets all about +his bills when they are once out. Wait till it is perfectly convenient." + +"Thank you," said Eugene huskily; "you are all goodness. I have not +deserved this of you." He had already risen to go: but as he drew near +the door he turned back: "Oh, Lucy, don't believe I was ever quite as +heartless as I seemed. I know I treated you in a scoundrelly way, but I +loved you all the time--indeed, indeed, I did." + +"Stop, Mr. Talbot! This is no language for you to use! If you have no +regard for me, recollect at least what is due to your wife." + +"I have nothing to say against Mabel. She's a dear good girl, a great +deal too good for me. It isn't her fault that things have gone against +me. I always felt it was to pay me up for my conduct to you. I loved you +as well as I ever could love anyone; but I was a selfish brute, and +thought to better myself in the world--" + +"Stop, Mr. Talbot! I ought not to hear any more of this! I was too much +overcome by surprise at first to check you, but now I must ask you to +leave me at once if you cannot control yourself." + +"I haven't a word to say that need offend you," said Eugene, humbly. "I +only wanted to ask you to forgive me for old time's sake." + +"There is nothing I know of for me to forgive. I am sorry, for your own +sake, to hear that you ever had such feelings. I never dreamed of them." + +"It seemed to me as if you could not help knowing." + +"Indeed? I don't remember," said Mrs. Wilson, smiling. "I was so +engrossed with my own affairs then, you see," she added with engaging +candour; "and if I thought about you, I supposed you were the same. You +can understand, after what you have seen of Henry, how little attention +a girl who loved him would have to spare for anyone else." + +Eugene assented absently. He was unable to discipline his wandering +memory, which just then was vividly picturing Lucy Morton at her +prettiest, as with a sparkle in her eye and a curl on her lip she had, +for the amusement of them both, flung some gentle sarcasm at "Henny +Wilson." He could still hear her ringing laugh at his affected jealousy +of her neighbour. But those days were past, and there before him sat +Mrs. Wilson, her face lighted up with earnest emotion, grown more lovely +still, and her voice thrilling with a deeper music. He allowed with a +pang of mortification that he was not as clever as he had supposed +himself in sounding the depths of womankind; and then with keener shame +he stifled his incredulous doubts of Dr. Wilson's being able to win and +keep love. "He deserves it all," he said aloud, while still a secret +whisper told him that love does not go by desert. + +"Does he not?" said Lucy. "And now we will not talk of this any more. +You must know how glad we are to be able to give you any little help, +and you must be willing to take it as freely as it is given. I am very +sure that brighter days are coming for Mabel and you; and when they do, +we will all enjoy them together, will we not?" + +"You are an angel," said Eugene, taking the hand she held out; and then +he let it go and turned away without another word. Lucy stood looking +after him a longer time than she usually allowed herself to waste in +revery; and then, starting, hastened off intent on household duties. + +"Why are these boots in such a condition?" she asked, in a more emphatic +tone than was her wont to use to her servants, as a muddy pair in her +back entry caught her eye. + +"I am very sorry, ma'am. I brought them down here to be cleaned, but +Crossman has gone, as you ordered, to take Mrs. Talbot a little drive, +and James is out with the doctor somewhere, and there are two clean pair +in his dressing-room. Shall I black these, ma'am?" inquired the highly +trained parlour maid, who would have gone down on her very knees to +scrub the stable floor at a hint that such a proceeding might be +agreeable to Dr. Wilson. + +"Oh, no; never mind," said her mistress, carelessly; but when the girl +had gone, she stooped and, picking up the boots, bore them to her own +room, and bringing blacking also, cleaned and blacked them all over in +the neatest manner, with her own delicate hands. + +"I know I'm not worthy to black Henry's boots," she thought to herself, +as a tear or two, which she made haste to rub away, dropped on their +polished surface; "but I can do them well, at least. No one shall ever +say that I have not made him a good wife!" + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +THREE CUPS OF TEA + + + "Mrs. Samuel N. Brackett, at home Wednesday, December Tenth, + from four to seven, 3929 Commonwealth Avenue." + + * * * * * + + "Miss Caldwell, Wednesdays, Mount Vernon Street, December + 10th, 4.30-6.30." + + * * * * * + + "100 CHARLESGATE, EAST. + + "DEAREST CARRIE: + + "I am obliged to give up the Bracketts'. Mother went and + asked Dr. Thomas if I could go, and he said, of course not. + I was so provoked, for if she hadn't spoken of it, he would + never have dreamed of forbidding me to go out--he never + does. Most likely he never imagines that anybody will go + anywhere if they are not obliged to. Now that I am not + going, mother won't go herself. She wants to go to Cousin + Jane's little tea. She says they are so far apart she can't + do both. So stupid in Cousin Jane to put hers the same day + as the Bracketts'--but I dare say she will have a sufficient + number of her own set to fill up. I doubt if she gets many + of the girls. You are so soft-hearted that I dare say you + will struggle for both. Do get through in time to drop in + here any time after half-past six. I am going to have a few + girls to tea in my room to cheer me up and tell me all about + the Bracketts'. They have asked everyone they possibly can, + and I dare say everyone will go to see what it is like. I am + sure I would if I could. Remember you must come. + + "Ever your + "GRACE G. D. + "_Tuesday P.M._" + +As Miss Caroline Foster, after lunch on the tenth of December, inspected +the cards and notes which encircled her mirror in a triple row, she +selected these three as calling for immediate attention. Of course she +meant to go to all: when was she ever known to refuse an invitation? +Though young and pretty, well connected and well dowered, and far from +stupid, she occupied in society the position of a down-trodden pariah or +over-worked galley-slave, for the reason that she never could say no to +anyone. She had nothing--money, time, sympathy--that was not at the +service of anyone who chose to beg or borrow them. At parties she put up +with the left-over partners, and often had none--for even the young men +had found out that she could always be had when wanted. Perhaps this was +the reason why, with all her prettiness and property, she was not +already appropriated in marriage. Of course she had hosts of friends, +who all despised her; but one advantage she did enjoy, for which others +might have been willing to barter admiration and respect; no one, man, +woman, or child, was ever heard to speak harshly to Caroline Foster, or +to say anything against her. Malice itself must have blushed to say that +she was too complying, and malice itself could think of nothing else. + +This tenth of December marked an uncommon event in her experience, for +on it she had, for the first time in her life, made up her mind to +refuse an asked-for gift; and the consciousness of this piece of spirit, +and of a beautiful new costume of dark-blue velvet trimmed with otter +fur, which set off her fair hair and fresh face to perfection, gave her +an air of unwonted stateliness as she stepped into a handsome coupe and +drove off alone. She was by no means an independent or unguarded young +woman; but her aunt, with whom she lived, had two committee meetings +that afternoon, and told Caroline that she might just as well go to Miss +Caldwell's little tea for ladies only, alone. They would meet at Mrs. +Brackett's; and if they didn't they could tell everyone they were trying +to--which would do just as well. + +Miss Caldwell lived in an old house on Mount Vernon Street which gave +the impression that people had forgotten to pull it down because it was +so small; but within it looked spacious, as it sheltered only one lady +and two maids. Everything about it had an air of being fresh and faded +at once. The little library in front was warm dull olive-green; and the +dining-room at the back soft deep grey-blue; and the drawing-room, up +one flight of an unexpected staircase, was rich dark brick-red--all very +soothing to the eye. They were full of family portraits, and old brass +and pewter, and Japanese cabinets, and books bound in dimly gilded +calf-skin, and India chintzes, all of which were Miss Caldwell's by +inheritance. Even sunlight had a subdued effect in these rooms; and now +they were lighted chiefly by candles, and none too brilliantly. + +Miss Caldwell had been receiving her guests in the drawing-room; but +there were not many, and being a lady accustomed to do as she pleased, +she had followed them down to the dining-room, which was just +comfortably full. Conversation was, as it were, forced to be general, +and the whole room heard Mrs. Spofford remark that "Malcolm Johnson +would be a very poor match for Caroline Foster." + +"Caroline Foster and Malcolm Johnson, is that an engagement?" asked the +stout, good-natured Mrs. Manson, who was tranquilly eating her way +through the whole assortment of biscuits and bonbons on the table. +"Well, Caroline is a dear, sweet girl--just the kind to make a good wife +for a widower." + +"With five children to start with, and no means that I know of!" said +Miss Caldwell, scornfully. "I am sure I hope not!" + +"I have heard it on the best authority," said the first speaker. + +"It will take better authority than that to make me believe it." + +"If he proposes to her," said Mrs. Manson, "I should say she would take +him. I never knew Caroline to say no to anyone." + +"Well," said Miss Caldwell, "I suppose it's natural for a woman to be a +fool in such matters--for most women," she corrected herself; "but if +Caroline marries Malcolm Johnson I shall think her _too_ foolish--and +she has never seemed to me to be lacking in sense." + +"Perhaps," said the pourer out of tea, a pretty damsel with large dark +eyes, a little faded to match the room--"perhaps she wants a sphere." + +"As if her aunt could not find her fifty spheres if she wanted them!" + +"Too many, perhaps," said a tall lady with a sensible, school-teaching +air. "I have sometimes thought that Mrs. Neal, with managing all her own +children's families and her charities, had not much time or thought to +spare for poor little Caroline. She is kind to her, but I doubt if she +gives her much attention." + +"A woman likes something of her own," said Mrs. Manson. + +"Her own!" said Miss Caldwell. "How much good of her own is she likely +to have if she marries Malcolm Johnson?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Spofford, "his motives would be plain enough; I dare +say he's in love with her. Caroline is a lovely girl, but of course in +such a case her money goes for something." + +"But she has not so very much money," said Mildred, dropping a lump of +sugar into a cup--"plenty, I suppose, for herself, but it would not +support a large family like Mr. Johnson's." + +"It would pay his taxes, my dear, and buy his coal," said Miss Caldwell, +"and he has kept house long enough to appreciate the help _that_ would +be." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Manson, "coal is so terribly high this winter!" + +"It would be a saving for him to marry anybody," said a thin lady with a +sweet smile, slightly soiled gloves, and her bonnet rather on one side. +"He tells me that his housekeepers are no end of trouble. He is always +changing them, and his children are running wild with it all. He's a +very old friend of mine," she added with a conscious air. + +"They are very troublesome children," said Miss Caldwell. "I hear them +crying a great deal." + +"Poor little things!--they need training," said Mrs. Manson. + +"Caroline would never train them; she is too amiable." + +"They have so much illness," said Mrs. Eames, the "old friend." "Poor +Malcolm tells me he is afraid that little Willie has incipient spine +complaint; he is in pain most of the time. The poor child was always +delicate, and his mother watched him most carefully. She was a most +painstaking mother, poor thing, though I don't imagine there was much +congeniality between her and Malcolm. I wish I could do something for +them, but I have _such_ a family of my own." + +"Someone ought to warn Caroline," said Miss Caldwell. "I wonder he has +the audacity to ask her. If he wasn't a widower he wouldn't dare to." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Miss Mildred, "her loving him in spite of +all his drawbacks would seem more natural." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Manson, "he wouldn't have the +drawbacks, you know." + +"If he wasn't a widower," said Mrs. Eames, "he might not be so anxious +to marry her. Good-by, dear Miss Caldwell. Such a delightful tea! I may +take some little cakes to the dear children?" + +"Good-by," said Mrs. Manson, swallowing her last macaroon. She turned +back as she reached the doorway; and her ample figure, completely +filling it up, gave opportunity for a young lady who had been standing +in the shadow of the staircase to dart across the hall unseen. Miss +Caroline Foster had sought her hostess in the drawing-room, but finding +it empty, had come downstairs again, and had been obliged to listen to +the conversation, which she had not the courage to interrupt; and she +now threw on her wrap and rushed past the astonished maid out of the +house before Mrs. Manson's slow progress could reach the cloak-room. + + * * * * * + +At half-past five o'clock the Brackett tea was in full swing. The +occupants of the carriages at the end of the long file were getting out +and walking to the door, and some of the more prudent were handing in +their cards and departing, judging from the crush that if their chance +of getting in was but small, their chance of getting away was none at +all. The Bracketts were at home; but of their home there was nothing to +be seen for the crowd, except the blazing chandeliers overhead, the +high-hung modern French pictures in heavy gilded frames, the intricate +draperies of costly stuffs and laces at the tops of the tall windows, +here and there the topmost spray of some pyramid or bank of flowers, and +the upper part of the immense mirrors which reflected over and over what +they could catch of the scene. The hostess was receiving in the middle +drawing-room; but it was a work of time and pains to get so far as to +obtain a view of the sparkling aigret in her hair. A meagre, carefully +dressed woman had accomplished this duty, and might now fairly be +getting off and leaving her place for someone else; yet she lingered +near the door of the outer room, loath to depart, looking with an +anxious eye for familiar faces, with an uneasy incipient smile waiting +for the occasion to call out. Sometimes it grew more marked, and she +made a tentative step forward; and if the person went by with scant +greeting or none at all, she would draw back and patiently repair it for +future use. For the one or two who stopped to speak to her she kept it +carefully up to, but not beyond, a certain point, while still her +restless eye strayed past them in search of better game. Just as she had +exchanged a warmer greeting than her wont with a quiet, lady-like woman +who was forced on inward by the crowd, she was startled by a smart tap +on her shoulder, and as she turned sharp round towards the wall, the +rich brocade window-curtains waved, and a low voice was heard from +behind them. + +"Come in here, won't you, Miss Snow?" + +Miss Martha Snow, bewildered, drew aside the heavy folds, and found +herself face to face with a richly arrayed, distinguished-looking, +though _passee_ woman, who had settled herself comfortably on the +cushioned seat between the lace curtains without and the silk within. + +"My dear Mrs. Freeman! how do you do? How you did frighten me!" + +"I have been trying to get at you for an age," said Mrs. Thorndike +Freeman, laughing. "I thought you would never have done falling into the +arms of that horrid Hapgood woman." + +"I could not help it. She would keep me. She is one of those people you +can't shake off, you know." + +"I! _I_ don't know her." + +"But why are you here, out of sight of everyone? Are you waiting for a +chance to get at Mrs. Brackett?" hurried on Miss Snow. + +"I'm waiting for a chance to get away from her. I would not be seen +speaking to her for any consideration whatever." + +"I--I _was_ surprised to meet you here!" + +"I came because I wanted to see what it would be like, but I had no +conception it would be so bad. Did you ever see such a set as she has +collected?" + +"It does seem mixed." + +"Unmixed, I should call it. I have been waiting for half an hour to see +a soul of my acquaintance. Sit down here, and let us have a nice talk." + +A nice talk with Mrs. Thorndike Freeman foreboded a dead cut from her +the next time you met her; for she never took anyone up without as +violently putting them down again--and then there was no one now to see +and envy. However, Miss Snow dared not refuse, and seating herself with +a conciliatory, frightened air, somewhat like a little dog in the cage +of a lioness, asked in timid tones: + +"Why do you stay? Is not your carriage here?" + +"I want to get something to eat first," said Mrs. Freeman, "for I +suppose their spread is something indescribable." + +"Oh, quite! The whole middle of the table is a mass of American Beauty +roses as large as--as cabbages, and around that a bank of mignonette +like--like small cauliflowers, and all over beneath it is covered with +hothouse maiden-hair ferns, and----" + +"And what's the grub?" + +"I--did not eat much; I only wanted to see it; but I had a delicious +little _pate_--chicken done in cream, somehow; and I saw aspic jelly +with something in it handed round; and the ices--they are all in floral +devices, water lilies floating on spun sugar, and roses in gold baskets, +and cherries tied in bunches with ribbons, and grapes lying on tinted +Bohemian glass leaves--and------" + +"It sounds appetising. I'll wait till I see a man that doesn't know me, +and he shall get me some. I don't want it known that I ever entered +their doors." + +"Shall I not go back to the dining-room and send a waiter to you?" + +"No, indeed--he would be sure to know me, and I should get put on the +list." + +"The stationers who sent out the invitations will do that." + +"Oh, well--I can only say I never came. But the waiter would swear to +me, and very likely describe my dress. No, I shall wait a little longer. +Stay here and keep me company." + +"Oh, it will be delightful!" quavered Miss Snow, though worrying at the +prospect of getting away late on foot, and ill able to afford cab-hire. + +"You've heard of the engagement, I suppose?" + +"Which of them?" asked Miss Snow, skilfully hedging. + +"Why, the only one, so far as I know. Why, haven't you heard? Ralph +Underwood and Winnie Parke." + +"Oh, yes! has that come out? I have been away from home for a few days, +and had not heard. Very pleasant, I'm sure." + +"Very--for her. It was her sister who did it, Mrs. Al Smith. She's a +very clever young woman; fished for Al herself in the most barefaced +way, and now she's caught Ralph for her sister; and she's not nearly so +good-looking, either, Winnie Parke, though I should say she had a better +temper than Margaret. You know Margaret Smith of course?" + +"Not very well," said Miss Snow, deprecatingly. "I thought when you +spoke of an engagement you meant Malcolm Johnson and Caroline Foster." + +"That never will be an engagement!" said Mrs. Freeman scornfully. + +"Oh! I am very glad to hear you say so--only I have met him so much +there lately, and it quite worried me; it would be such a bad thing for +dear Caroline; she is a sweet girl." + +"You need not worry about it any longer, for I know positively that she +has refused him." + +"I am very glad. I was so afraid that Caroline--she is so amiable a +girl, you know, and so apt to do what people tell her to--I was afraid +she might say yes for fear of hurting his feelings." + +"She would never dream of his having feelings--her position is so +different. Why, Caroline is a cousin of my own." + +"Oh, yes, of course--only he would doubtless be so much in love; and +many people think him delightful--he _was_ very handsome." + +"Before Caroline was born, maybe. No, no, Caroline has plenty of sense, +though she looks so gentle--and then the family would never hear of it. +His affairs are in a shocking condition. Why, you know what he lost in +Atchison--and I happen to know that his other investments are in a very +shaky condition." + +"He has that handsome house." + +"Mortgaged, my dear, mortgaged up to its full value. No, he's badly +off--and then there are such discreditable rumours about him; Thorndike +knows all about it." + +"Dear me! I never heard anything against his character." + +"I could tell you plenty," said Mrs. Freeman, with a little shrug. "And +then he drinks, or at least he probably will end in drinking--they +always do when they are driven desperate. Oh, no, Caroline is a cousin +of mine, and a most charming girl. Don't for heaven's sake hint at such +a thing." + +"Oh, I assure you, I never have. I am always so careful." + +"Yes, I never say a thing that I am not certain is true," said Mrs. +Freeman, yawning. "Why, where do all these lovely youths come from? Ah! +I see; past six o'clock; the shop is closed, and they have turned the +clerks on duty here. Well, now, I can get something to eat, for I never +buy anything of them. Tell that one over there to come to me, the +light-haired one, I mean; he looks strong and good-humoured." + +As Miss Snow rose to obey this order, a fair-haired girl in a dark-blue +velvet gown, who on entering had been pinned close against the wall +within hearing by the crowd, made a frantic struggle for freedom, and +succeeded in reaching the entrance hall, to the amazement of the other +guests, who did not look for such a display of strength in so +gentle-looking and painfully blushing a creature. + + * * * * * + +At half-past six a select party was assembling in Miss Grace Deane's own +room, the prettiest room, it was said, in Boston, in the handsomest of +the new Charlesgate houses; a corner room, with a bright sunny outlook +over the long extent of waterside gardens. The high wainscot, the +chimney-piece, the bed on its alcoved and curtained _haut pas_ were of +cherry wood, the natural colour, carved with elaborate and unwearied +fancy; and its rich hue showed here and there round the Persian rugs on +the floor. At the top of the wall was a painted frieze of cherry boughs +in bloom, with now and then one loaded with fruit peeping through, and +the same idea was imitated in the chintzes. The wall space left was +papered in a shade of spring green so delicate and elusive that no one +could decide whether it verged on gold or silver, almost hidden with +close-hung water colours and autotypes; and the ceiling showed between +cherry beams an even softer tint in daintily stained woods. The Minton +tiles around the fireplace and lining the little adjoining bathroom were +all in different designs of pale green and white sparingly dashed with +coral pink. There were sofas and low chairs and bookcases and cabinets +and a tiny piano and a writing-desk and a drawing-table, and a +work-table and yet more tables, all covered with smaller objects. +Useless, and especially cheap, bric-a-brac was Miss Deane's abomination, +but everything she used was exquisite. The bed and dressing-table were +covered with finest linen, drawn and fretted by the needle, into filmy +gossamer; and from the latter came a subdued glitter of a hundred silver +trifles of the toilet, beaten and chiselled like the fine foamy crest of +the wave. + +Miss Deane, the owner of this pretty room, for whom and by whom it had +been devised and decked with abundant means held well in check by taste, +was very seldom in it. The Deanes had two country houses, and they spent +a great deal of time abroad, and in the winter they often went to +California or Florida or Bermuda; and when they were at their town +houses they were usually out. But Miss Deane did sometimes sleep there, +and when she had a cold and had to keep in she could not but look around +it with gratification. It certainly was a pleasant room to give a little +tea in. Its being her bedroom only made the effect more piquant. She +believed the ladies of the last century used to have tea in their +bedrooms; and this was quite in antique style--yes, the tea-table and +some of the chairs were real antiques. By the time she had arranged the +flowers to her taste and sat down arrayed in a tea-gown of rose-coloured +China crape and white lace to make tea in a Dresden service with little +rosebuds for handles, she felt quite well again, and ready to greet a +dozen or so of her dearest friends, who ran upstairs unannounced and +threw off their own wraps on the lace-covered bed. + +Some of these young women were beautiful, and all looked pretty, their +charms equalised by their clothes and manners. They had all been on the +most intimate terms with each other from babyhood, and they had the +eagerness to please anyone and everyone, characteristic of the American +girl. Each talked to the other as if that other were a lover, and they +had the sweetest smiles for the maid. + +"So it was pleasant at the Bracketts'?" asked Grace, beginning to fill +her cups. + +"Oh, delightful!" exclaimed the whole circle; "that is"--with modified +energy--"it was crowded of course, and very hot, and it was hard to get +at people, and there was no time to talk when you did; but everybody was +there," they concluded with revived spirit. + +"I was not there," sighed Mildred; "I had to make tea for Miss +Caldwell--mother said I must--and some of the people stayed so late that +it was no use thinking of the other place, though I put on this gown to +be all ready. I thought it would do to pour out at such a little +tea"--surveying her pale fawn cloth gown dashed with dark velvet worked +in gold. + +"Oh, perfectly! most appropriate!" said the others. + +"Who else poured out?" said Grace. + +"Why, she told me that Caroline Foster was coming, and I was so +delighted; but when I got there I found Mrs. Neal had sent a note saying +she could not allow Caroline to give up the Bracketts' altogether; and +Miss Caldwell had invited that Miss Leggett, whom I hardly know--wasn't +it unpleasant? And she wore regular full dress, pink India silk and +chiffon, cut very low--the effect was dreadful!" + +"Horrid!" murmured her sympathising friends. + +"Caroline was there, I suppose?" queried one. + +"No--she never came at all." + +"Probably she went to the Bracketts' first, and couldn't get away," said +Grace. "I wonder she isn't here by this time. Who saw her there?" +General silence was the sole answer, and she looked round her only to +have it re-inforced by a more emphatic "I didn't." + +"Why, she must have been there! She told me she should surely go. How +odd--" but her words died away, and the group regarded each other with +looks of awe, till one daring young woman broke the spell with, "Do you +think--can it be possible--that she's really engaged?" + +"To Mr. Johnson?" broke out the whole number. "Oh! I hope not! It would +be shocking--dreadful--too bad!" + +"We shouldn't see a thing of her; she would be so tied down," murmured +Dorothy Chandler, almost in tears. + +"Everyone who marries is tied down, for that matter," cheerfully +remarked a blooming young matron, who had been the rounds of the teas. +"I assure you," she went on, nibbling a chocolate peppermint with +relish, "I am doing an awful thing myself in being here at this hour; +aren't you, Anna?"--addressing a mate in like condition, who blushed, +conscience-stricken as she said, "Perhaps Caroline is in love with Mr. +Johnson." + +"I don't see how any one can fall in love with a widower," said Mildred. + +"That depends on the widower," said the pretty Mrs. Blanchard. "I do +think Mr. Johnson is rather too far gone." + +"Oh, yes," said Mildred; "he looks so--so--I don't know how to express +it." + +"What you would call dowdy if he were a woman," said her more +experienced friend. "He looks as if he wanted a wife; but I don't see +why someone else would not do as well as Caroline--some respectable +maiden lady who could sew on his buttons and make his children stand +round. I don't think Caroline would be of the least use to him." + +"It would be almost impossible to keep her up," said Grace. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Blanchard; "I'm very fond of Caroline, but I'm afraid I +could never get Bertie up to the point of intimacy with Malcolm Johnson; +he thinks him underbred--says his hats show it." + +"Is your tea too strong, Harriet, dear? There is no hot water left," +said Grace, ringing her little silver bell with energy. But no one came. +"I told Marguerite to keep in the sewing-room, in hearing," she went on, +ringing it again. + +"I thought I heard her at the door just now," said the outermost of the +circle. + +"_Would_ you mind looking, dear? If she's not there I'll ring the other +bell for someone from downstairs." + +No Marguerite was at the door, the sounds laid to her charge having been +caused by the precipitate retreat of a young lady who had come late and, +running quickly upstairs unannounced, had paused at the room door to +recover her breath, and had just time to do so and to fly downstairs +again and out of the house without encountering anyone. + +Caroline--for it was she--hurried round the corner; for her home was so +near that she had dismissed her carriage. The house was empty and dark. +Mrs. Neal had gone to spend the evening with one of her married +daughters and had not thought it necessary to provide any dinner at +home. There was no neglect in this. There were plenty of cousins at +whose houses Caroline could have dined and welcome; or if she did not +choose to do so, there was abundance in the larder, and if her teas had +left her any appetite she had but to give the order herself and sit +down alone to her cold meat and bread and butter. As we know, her teas +had been feasts of Tantalus; but she did not feel hungry--for food. She +hastened up to her room without a word to the maid, lighted her gas, +took a key from her watch-chain, opened her writing-desk, and took out a +letter which she read, not for the first time, with attention. + + "MOUNT VERNON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MISS FOSTER: + + "You will, I am afraid, be surprised at what I am going to + say. Perhaps you will blame me for writing it, and perhaps + you will blame me for saying it at all. I know it is an act + of presumption in me to ask one so beautiful, so young and + untrammelled by care, to link her fortunes with mine: but I + do it because I cannot help it. I love you so much that I am + unable to turn my thoughts to my most pressing duties till I + have at least tried my fate with you; and yet my hopes are + so faint that I cannot venture to ask you in any way but + this. + + "Don't think I love you less because I have so many other + claimants for my affections; any more than I love them less + because I love you. My poor children have no mother; I could + never ask any woman to take that place to them unless we + could both feel sure that ours was no mere match of + convenience; but I could not love anyone unless she had the + tenderness of nature which belongs to a true mother. I + never saw any girl in whom it showed so plainly as in you. + Your angelic sweetness and gentleness are to me, who have + seen something of the rough side of life, unspeakably + beautiful. I know I am not worthy of you in any way; but it + sometimes seems to me that appreciating you so thoroughly as + I do must make me a little so. + + "Your family will very likely object to me on the score of + want of means. I am fully aware that I cannot give you such + advantages in that respect as you have a right to expect, + even if I were much richer than I am ever likely to be; but + I am not so poorly off as they may suppose. I own the house + in which I live, free of encumbrance, and I should like to + settle it upon you. I do not know whether your property is + secured to your separate use or not; but I should wish to + have it so in any case. If my life and health are spared, I + have no fears that I shall not be able to support my family + in comfort. I know you will have to give up a great deal in + the way of society; and I cannot promise that you shall have + no cares, but I can and do promise that you will make us all + very happy. + + "I still fear my chances are but small; but do, I entreat + you, take time to think over this. No matter what your + answer may be, I am and ever shall be + + "Your faithful and devoted + "MALCOLM JOHNSON. + "_December 8, 189-._" + +After Caroline had read this letter twice, she drew out another, +spotless and freshly written, and breaking the seal, read: + + "BEACON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MR. JOHNSON: + + "I was very sorry to receive your letter this morning. Pray + don't think I blame you for writing--but indeed you think + much too highly of me. I am not at all fitted to assume such + serious duties as being at the head of your family would + involve, and it would only be a disappointment to you if I + did. I have had no experience, and I should feel it wrong to + undertake it, even if I could return your generous affection + as it deserves. Indeed, I don't value money, or any of those + things; but I do not want to give up my friends and all my + own ways of life, unless I loved you. I am so sorry I + can't--but surely you will not blame me, for I never dreamed + of this, or I would have tried to let you know my thoughts + sooner. + + "I am sure my aunt would disapprove. Highly as she esteems + you, she would think me too young, and not at all the right + kind of wife for you. I shall not breathe a word to her or + to anyone, and I hope you will soon forget this, and find + some one who will really be a good wife to you and a devoted + mother to your children. No one will be more delighted at + this than + + "Your sincere friend, + "CAROLINE ALICE FOSTER. + "_December 9, 189-._" + +This letter, which Caroline had spent three hours in writing, and copied +six times, she now tore into small pieces and threw them into the +fireplace. The fire was out, and the grate was black, so she lighted a +match and watched till every scrap was consumed to ashes, when she sat +down at her desk and, heedless of the chilly room, wrote with a flying +pen: + + "BEACON STREET. + + "MY DEAR MR. JOHNSON: + + "Pray forgive me that I have been so long in answering your + letter. I could not decide such an important matter in + haste. Indeed you think more highly of me than you ought; + but if such a foolish, ignorant girl as I am can make you + happy, and you are sure you are not mistaken, I will try to + return your love as it deserves. I have not much experience + with children; but I will do my best to make yours love me, + and it will surely be better for the dear little things than + to have no mother at all. + + "I dare say my aunt will think me very presumptuous to + undertake so responsible a position; but she will not oppose + me when she knows my heart is concerned,--and I am of age, + and have a right to decide for myself. I shall be so glad of + some real duties to make my idle, aimless life really useful + to someone. I don't care for wealth, and as for society, I + am heartily tired of it. The only fear I have is that you + are over-rating me; but it is so pleasant to be loved so + much that I will not blame you for it. + + "I am ever yours sincerely, + "CAROLINE ALICE FOSTER. + "_December 10, 189-._" + +If Caroline, by writing this letter, constituted herself a lunatic in +the judgment of all her friends, it must be allowed, as Miss Caldwell +had said, that she was not quite lacking in sense. Unlike either a fool +or the heroine of a novel, she rang the bell for no servant, sent for no +messenger, but when she had sealed and stamped her letter she tripped +downstairs with it and, having slipped back the latch as she opened the +door, walked as far as the nearest post-box and dropped it in herself. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE TRAMPS' WEDDING + + "They know no country, own no lord. + Their home the camp, their law the sword." + + +"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Reed, as her husband entered her sitting-room; +with some curiosity, pardonable in view of the fact that a stranger had +for some time been holding an interview with him in his study. + +"Why," replied the Reverend Richard Reed, looking mildly absent, as was +his custom when interrupted of a Saturday morning, "it is a Mr. Perley +Pickens--the man, you know, who has taken the Maynard place for the +summer." + +"Indeed! what did he want?" cried the lady, interested at once. The +Maynard house was the great house of the place, and the Maynard family +the magnates of the First Parish, and the whole town of Rutland. Their +going abroad for a year or two had been felt as a public loss, and when, +somewhat to the general surprise, it transpired that their house was +let, it was at once surmised that it could only be to "nice" people, +though the new occupants had never been heard of, and were rarely seen. + +"Oh, his daughter is to be married, and he wants the ceremony to take +place in our church." + +"You don't say so? and he wants you to marry them?" + +"Certainly." + +"Why, we haven't had a wedding in the church for quite a while! It will +be very nice, won't it?" + +"Yes, my dear; but excuse me, I am in a hurry just now. Mr. Pickens is +waiting. He wants you to give him a few addresses. I gave him the +sexton's----" + +"It will be a good thing for poor Langford," said Mrs. Reed, +benevolently. + +"Yes--" drawled the Reverend Richard, still abstractedly, "very good; +and he wants a Boston caterer, and a florist. I know nothing about such +things, and I told him I'd ask you, though I did not believe you did, +either." + +"Oh, yes, I do! Mrs. Maynard always has Rossi, and as for a florist, +they must have John Wicks, at the corner here. He's just set up, and it +will be such a chance for him." + +"Do you think he will do? Mr. Pickens said that expense was no +object--that everything must be in style, as he phrased it." + +"Oh, he'll do! Anyone will do, at this season. Why, they could decorate +the church, and house too, from their own place; but I shan't suggest +that." + +"Very well, my dear--but I am keeping Mr. Pickens waiting." + +"I'll go and speak to him myself," said the lady, excitedly; and she +tripped into the study, where the guest was sitting, with his hat on his +knees; a tall, narrow-shouldered man, with a shifty eye. Somehow the +sight of him was disappointing, she could hardly tell why, for he rose +to greet her very politely, and thanked her effusively. + +"My wife will be most grateful, I am sure--most grateful for your +kindness. It will save her so much trouble." + +"Here are the addresses you want," said Mrs. Reed, hastily scratching +them off at her husband's desk, "and if Mrs. Pickens wants any others, I +shall be happy to be of use to her." + +"Thank you! thank you! You see, she's a stranger here, and doesn't know +anything about it." + +"You have not been in this part of the country before?" + +"No--oh, no, I come from Clarinda, Iowa. At least, I always register +from there, though I haven't any house there now; and my present wife +was a Missouri woman, though she's never lived in the State much. I had +to be in Boston on business this summer, so thought I'd take a place +outside, and Mr. Bowles, the real estate agent, said this was the +handsomest going, and the country first-rate; but my wife's a little +disappointed." + +"I suppose, if she has travelled so much, she has seen a great deal of +fine scenery--but this is generally thought a pretty place." + +"Yes, certainly--very rustic, though, ain't it?" + +"I suppose so," said his hearer, a little puzzled, while for the first +time her husband looked up, alert and amused. "I will call on Mrs. +Pickens," she hastened to say, "if she would like to see me." + +"Yes, certainly; delighted, I'm sure; yes, she'd be delighted to see +you, and so would Miss Minnie, too." + +"What a very queer man!" thought Mrs. Reed. But she only smiled sweetly, +and made a little move, as if the interview were fairly over. Her +visitor, however, did not seem inclined to depart, and after a moment's +silence began again. + +"And there's another thing; if you would be so very kind as to +recommend--I mean, introduce--we know so few people here, and Miss +Minnie wants everything very stylish; perhaps you know some nice young +men who would like to be ushers; I believe that is what they are called. +It would be a good thing for them to be seen at; everything in +first-class style, you know." + +The Reverend Richard, whose attention was now thoroughly aroused, beamed +full on the speaker a guileless smile, while his wife thoughtfully +murmured, "Let me see; do you expect a great many people?" + +"Oh, no, we don't know many round here; but if you and your family, and +the ushers and their families, would come to the house, it would make +quite a nice little company. As to the church--anyone that liked--it +would be worth seeing." + +"I can find some ushers," said Mrs. Reed, still musing; "two at least; +that will be enough, I should think." + +"And then," murmured Mr. Pickens, as if checking off a mental list, +"there is a young man to go with the bridegroom, I believe. I never had +one, but Miss Minnie says it's the fashion." + +"Oh, yes, a 'best man!'" explained his hostess, "but--the bridegroom +usually selects one of his intimate friends for that." + +"I don't believe Mr. MacJacobs has any friends; round here, that is. He +came from Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania, but he's never been there since he +was a boy. He's been in New Orleans, and then in Europe, as travelling +agent for MacVickar & Company. I suppose you've heard of _them_." + +"I dare say I can find a best man." + +"Thank you. You are very kind; yes, very kind indeed, I'm sure." + +"I presume," interposed the host, in bland accents, "you wish to give +away the bride yourself?" + +"Yes!" said Mr. Pickens, starting; "oh, yes, I suppose I can, if there's +not too much to do. Should I have to say anything?" + +"Scarcely," replied the clergyman, reassuringly. "I ask a question to +which you are supposed to reply, but a nod will be quite sufficient. The +bridegroom is generally audible, and sometimes the bride, but I have +never heard a sound proceed from the bride's father." + +"Very good--very good; it will be very pleasant to join in your service, +I am sure. Many thanks to you for your kind advice. I will now take my +leave," and after a jerking bow or two he departed, with a sort of +fluttering, bird-like step. The pastor laughed, but his wife looked +sober. + +"Our friend is as amusing a specimen as I ever encountered," he began. + +"Amusing! I call him disgusting, with his 'Miss Minnie 'and 'take his +leave.' He can't be a gentleman; there is something very suspicious +about the whole affair." + +"Indeed! and what do you suspect?" + +"I don't believe there's a wedding at all. Perhaps he's an impostor who +wants to get in here to steal." + +"Do you miss anything?" + +"No," said the lady, after a peep into her dining-room. "I can't say I +do. But he may come back on this pretended wedding business. Are you +sure that he really is Mr. Perley Pickens?" + +"Why, yes. I have never spoken to him before, but I have seen him at the +post-office, opening his box, and again at the station. I cannot be +mistaken in that walk of his." + +"Well, he may be the head of a gang of thieves, and have taken the house +and got up this scheme of a wedding for some end of his own." + +"Such as what?" + +"Why, to cheat somebody, somehow. I am sure you will never get a wedding +fee for it; and he may not pay any of the bills, and the people may +bother us." + +"He gave me the name of his Boston bankers, May & Maxwell, to whom he +said I could refer the tradespeople, if they wished it, 'being a +stranger here himself,' as he justly remarked. But whom, my dear, do +you expect to provide for ushers or best man?" + +"Oh, for ushers, the Crocker boys will do. They will be glad of +something to amuse them in vacation." + +"Are they not rather young? Fred can hardly be eighteen yet." + +"Well! he is six feet and over. One needn't tell his age; and as for +best man, I think William Winchester wouldn't mind it--to oblige me." + +"But why, my love, since you are so distrustful, are you so anxious to +be of use in this matter?" + +"Why!" echoed his wife, triumphantly; "it's the best way to encourage +them to go on, and then, don't you see? if they have any dishonest +designs, they'll be the sooner exposed; and then--I do want to see what +the end of it all will be--don't you?" + +In pursuance of these ideas, Mrs. Reed, next afternoon, put on her best +bonnet, and went to call on the ladies of the Pickens family. The +gardens and shrubberies of the Maynard house, always beautiful, yet +showed already the want of the master's eye. The servant who opened the +door was of an inferior grade, and the drawing-room, stripped of Mrs. +Maynard's personal belongings, looked bare and cold. Mrs. Reed sat and +sighed for her old friend full quarter of an hour, before a pale, slim, +pretty girl, much dressed, and with carefully crimped locks, came in +with, "It's very kind in you to call. Aunt Delia's awfully sorry to keep +you waiting, but she'll be down directly." + +"I am very glad to see you," said Mrs. Reed, looking with some attention +at the probable bride-elect. + +"Aunt Delia was sitting in her dressing-sack. She generally does, +day-times. It's so much trouble to dress, she thinks. Now I think it's +something to do; there isn't much else, here." + +"This is a lovely place. I always admire it afresh every time I come +here." + +"It's lonesome; but then, it's pleasant enough for a little while. I +never care to stay long in any one place. I've lived in about a hundred +since I can recollect; and I wouldn't take a house in any one of 'em for +a gift, if I had to live in it." + +"Perhaps you may feel differently when you have a house of your own." + +"Well, that's one of the things Mr. MacJacobs and I quarrel about. I +want to board, and he wants to take a flat. I tell him I'll do that, if +he'll get one where we can dine at the table d'hote. That's about as +easy as boarding. As like as not, when we get settled, he'll have to go +off somewhere else; but if he is willing to pay for it himself, why, let +him! Here's Aunt Delia," she suddenly added, as a fresh rustle +announced the entrance of a stout lady, also very handsomely attired, +and carrying a large fan, which she waved to and fro, slowly but +steadily, gazing silently over it at her visitor, whom Minnie introduced +with some explanation, after which she remarked that it was "awfully +hot." + +"It is warm; but I have not found it unpleasant. I really enjoyed my +walk here." + +"Did you walk?" asked her hostess, with more interest. + +"Oh, yes; it is not more than a mile here from the church; and the +parsonage is but a step farther." + +"A mile!" + +"I am very glad," said Mrs. Reed, well trained, as became her position, +in the art of filling gaps in talk, and striking out on new lines, "to +find you at home, and Miss--I beg your pardon, but I have not heard your +niece's name. Mr. Reed thought she was your daughter." + +"Oh, Minnie isn't my niece!" exclaimed the hostess, laughing, as if +roused to some sense of amusement, which Minnie shared; "she's an +adopted daughter of Mr. Webb's second wife!" + +"My name's Minnie Webb, though pa never approved of it, and when he +married again, we thought it would be easier to say Aunt Delia, to +distinguish her from ma, you know." + +Mrs. Reed paused before these complicated relationships, and skilfully +executed another tack; "I hope you find it pleasant here." + +"It's a pretty place here, but it's awful dull," said Mrs. Pickens, "and +it's so much trouble; I never kept house before. I've always boarded, +and mostly in hotels." + +"I am afraid it may seem quiet here to a stranger," said Mrs. Reed, +apologetically. "You see when anyone takes a house here for the summer, +people are rather slow to call; they suppose that you have your own +friends visiting you, and that you don't care to make new acquaintances +for so short a time. I am sorry I have not been able to call before. I +was not sure that you went to our church." + +"I don't go much to church; it is so much trouble. But Minnie says yours +is the prettiest for a wedding," said Mrs. Pickens, smiling so aimlessly +that it was impossible to suppose any rudeness intended. Mrs. Reed could +only try to draw out the more responsive Minnie. "Is there anything else +that I can do to help you about the wedding?" + +"Why, yes--only, you've been so kind. I most hate to ask you for +anything more." + +"Don't mention it!" + +"Well, then, if you could think of any girl that would do for a +bridesmaid." + +"A bridesmaid?" + +"Oh, yes, there ought to be _one_ bridesmaid; a pretty one I should +want, of course, and just about my size. You see, I have her dress all +ready, for when I ordered my own gown in Paris, Madame Valerie showed me +the proper bridesmaid's gown to go with it, and it looked so nice I told +her I would take it. I thought, if the worst came to the worst, I could +wear it myself; but it would be a shame not to have it show at the +wedding. Of course," said Minnie, impressively, "I mean to _give_ the +young lady the dress--for her own, to keep!" + +Mrs. Reed, at last, was struck fairly speechless, and her resources +failed. "Suppose," said the bride, in coaxing tones, "you just step up +and look at the gowns; if it would not be too much trouble." + +The sight of the dresses was a mighty argument. At any rate, people with +such garments could be planning no vulgar burglary. It might be a +Gunpowder Treason, or an Assassination Plot, and that was romantic and +dignified, while at the same time it was a duty to keep it under +observation. + +"I think," said Mrs. Reed, slowly, "I know a girl--a very pretty +one--who would just fit this dress." + +"What's her name?" + +"Muriel Blake." + +"Oh, how sweet! I wish it was mine! Who is she?" + +"She--she teaches school--but they're of very good family. She's very +pretty--but they're not at all well off. She's a very sweet girl." Mrs. +Reed balanced her phrases carefully, not knowing whether it would be +better to present her young friend in the light of a candidate for pity +or admiration. But Minnie smiled, and said she had no doubt it would do, +and that Mrs. Reed was very good; and even Mrs. Pickens wound herself up +to remark that it was very kind in her to take so much trouble. + +Mrs. Reed hastened home overwhelmed with business. The Crocker boys were +easily persuaded to take the parts assigned them, and even her elegant +and experienced friend, William Winchester, though he made a favour of +his services, gave them at last, "wholly to oblige her." + +"Any bridesmaids?" asked Reggie Crocker. + +"She wants me to ask Muriel Blake." + +"What, the little beauty of a school teacher! Well, there will be +sport!" cried his brother, and even William Winchester asked with some +interest, if she supposed Miss Blake would consent. "I think so," said +Mrs. Reed; but her hopes were faint as she bent her way to the little +house where Mrs. Blake, an invalid widow with scarce a penny, scraped +out a livelihood by taking the public-school teachers to board, while +her Muriel did half the housework, and taught, herself, in a primary +school, having neither time nor talents to fit herself for a higher +grade. Never was there a girl who better exemplified the old simile of +the clinging vine than she; only no support had ever offered itself for +her to cling to, and she had none of that instinctive skill which so +many creepers show in striking out for, and appropriating, an eligible +one. Mrs. Blake, a gentlewoman born and bred, gave at first a most +decided refusal to her daughter's appearance in the character proposed. +But Mrs. Reed, warming as she met with obstacles, pressed her point +hard. She said a great deal more in favour of the respectability of the +Pickenses than she could assert from her own knowledge, dwelt with +compassion on their loneliness, and touched, though lightly, on the +favour to herself; both ladies knowing but too well that the claims to +gratitude were past counting. Mrs. Blake faltered, perhaps moved +somewhat by a wistful look, which through all doubts and excuses, would +rise in her daughter's eyes. As for Muriel's own little childish +objections, they were swept away by her patroness like so many cobwebs. +There was a gown ready and waiting for her, and Mrs. Reed would arrange +about her absence from school. + +"But, if I am bridesmaid, I ought to make her a present," she said at +last, "and I am afraid----" + +"_That_ need not matter," said her mother, loftily, "I will give her one +of my India China plates. That will be present enough for anybody; and I +have several left." + +This, Mrs. Reed correctly augured, was the preface to surrender; and she +walked Muriel off to call on Miss Webb, before any more objections +should arise. + +"Well!" cried that young lady at the first sight of her bridesmaid, +"Well! I beg your pardon, but you _are_--" and even Mrs. Pickens +regarded the young girl with languid admiration. Muriel Blake's golden +curls, and azure eyes, and roseate bloom flashed on the eye much as does +a cardinal flower in a wayside brook. No one could help noticing her +charms; but no one had ever gone farther than to notice them, and they +were about as useful in her daily duties as diamonds on the handle of a +dustpan. Minnie looked at her rather doubtfully for a moment; but her +good humour returned during the pleasing task of arraying the girl in +her costume, and she even insisted on Miss Blake's assuming the bridal +dress herself. + +"Well, I'm sure! What a bride you would make! You aren't engaged, are +you?" + +"No." + +"You ought to travel. You'd be sure to meet someone. Well, we'll take it +off. I'm glad I'm going to wear it, and not you. You look quite stunning +enough in the other." + +"It is lovely--too handsome for me." + +"I had a complete outfit made in Paris this spring, though I wasn't +engaged then; but I guessed I should be before the things went out of +fashion." + +"You knew Mr. MacJacobs very well then?" + +"No--oh, no. I'd never seen him. Ma was anxious I should marry a foreign +gentleman." + +"Does your mother live abroad?" + +"Yes--that is, she's not my real mother. I never knew who my real father +and mother were. Ma wanted to adopt a little girl, and, she took me from +the Orphan Asylum at Detroit, because I had such lovely curls. They were +as light as yours, then, but they've grown dark, since. Is there +anything you put on yours to keep the colour?" + +"No--nothing." + +"Well, pa was very angry when he found out what ma had done. He didn't +want to adopt a child; but ma said she would, and she could, because +she had money of her own. But he was always real kind to me. They were +both very nice, only they would quarrel. Well, when I was sixteen, ma +said she would take me abroad to finish my education. We'd travelled so +much, I never had much chance to go to school. Pa said it was nonsense, +but she would go. But I didn't go to school there, either. We went to +Germany to look at one we'd heard of, and there a German gentleman, +Baron Von Krugenstern, proposed to me. He thought I was going to be +awfully rich. But when he found out how things really were, and that ma +had the money, he changed about and proposed to her. They are so fond of +money, those foreigners, you know!" + +"Did your father die while you were abroad?" + +"Oh, dear, no! He wasn't dead! He was over here, all right. But ma got a +divorce from him without any trouble. She and I and the Baron came over +and went to Dakota, and it was all arranged, and they were married in +six weeks. She got it for cruelty. I could testify I'd seen him throw +things at her. She used to throw them back again, but no one asked me +about that. Well, pa never heard about it till it was all over, and then +he was awfully mad; but I guess he didn't mind much, for he soon married +Aunt Delia, and they always got along very pleasantly. I made them a +visit after they were married, and then I went abroad with ma and the +Baron. But pa told me if I wasn't happy there, I could come back any +time." + +"Were you happy there?" + +"No, I can't say I was. They lived in an awfully skimpy way, in a flat, +three flights up, and no elevator. Baron Von Krugenstern didn't like +ma's having brought me, till pa died, and that made a change. Pa left +half his money to Aunt Delia, and the other half to me. Now, don't you +call that noble of him?" + +Muriel assented. + +"As soon as they found that out, the whole family were awfully polite to +me; they wanted me to marry his younger brother, Baron Stanislaus. But I +wrote to Aunt Delia; she'd married Uncle Perley by that time, and come +to Europe for a wedding tour. They were in Paris; and Uncle Perley was +very kind, and sent back word for me to come to them, and I set off all +alone; all the Von Krugensterns thought it was perfectly dreadful. I +bought my trousseau in Paris, for I hadn't quite decided I wouldn't have +Baron Stanislaus, after all. But Uncle Perley advised me strongly +against it; he said American husbands were a great deal the best, and I +conclude he was right. And then, on the voyage home, we met Mr. +MacJacobs." + +"I suppose you are very glad you came away?" + +"Oh, yes, I am quite satisfied--quite. Baron Stanislaus was six feet +three and a half inches high; but I don't think height goes for so much +in a man; do you?" + +Muriel looked at the little nomad with some wonder, but without the +reprobation which might have been expected from a young person carefully +brought up under the teachings of the Reverend Richard Reed. She rather +regarded Minnie in the aspect of--to quote the hymn familiar to her +childhood--"a gypsy baby, taught to roam, and steal her daily bread;" +and no matter how carefully guarded the infant mind, the experiences of +the gypsy will kindle a flame of interest. She, too, like Mrs. Reed, +felt eager to see the end of the story. + +The wedding preparations went on apace. The tradesmen worked briskly, +for they had received information, on the application of some of the +doubting among them to Messrs. May & Maxwell, that Mr. Pickens's credit +was good for a million at least, not counting the very handsome banking +accounts of his two ladies. Miss Webb made all the arrangements for her +bridal, as Mr. MacJacobs could not come till the evening before. + +"I only hope he'll come at all," carelessly suggested William +Winchester, one evening at the Parsonage. + +"Why! do you think there is any danger of his giving it up?" cried Mrs. +Reed, in consternation. + +"I rather begin to think that there is no such person. MacJacobs! What a +name! Can it possibly be real?" + +"The name has a goodly ring of wealth about it," said the parson. +"Scotch and Hebrew! 'tis a rich combination, indeed! Still, if it were +as you suggest, it is a comfort to know that the remedy is at hand. You +have done so much for them, Emma, my dear, that you cannot fail them +now. They will ask you to find some nice young man for a bridegroom, +rather than have the whole thing fall through, and I hope William is +prepared to see it in the proper light, and offer his services 'purely +to oblige you.'" + +"I shall have an answer ready," said William, coolly, "I shall say that +I am already bespoken." + +"And can you produce the proof? It will have to be a pretty convincing +one." + +"Perhaps in such an emergency I might find a _very_ convincing one," +said William, with a glance at Muriel, who had been looking confused, +and who now coloured deeply. It was more with displeasure than distress; +but then it was, for the first time, that she struck him as being +something more than a merely pretty girl. + +MacJacobs, came, punctual to his time, a small but sprightly individual, +with plenty to say as a proof of his existence. He brought neat, if not +over-expensive, scarf-pins for his gentlemen attendants, and a bracelet +in corresponding style for Miss Blake. The wedding went off to general +admiration. The church was full, and if the company at the house was +scanty, there was no scarcity in the banquet. And when the feast was +over, and Mrs. MacJacobs, on the carriage-step, turned to take her last +farewell; while Muriel's handkerchief was ready in her hand, and the +Crocker boys were fumbling among the rice in their pockets, and William +Winchester himself was feeling in his for the old shoe--"I am sure," she +said, "it has gone off beautifully, and I shall never, never forget your +kindness, as long as I live! I _did_ so want to have a pretty +wedding--such as I've read about!" + +If these last words roused dismal forebodings in the minds of the bridal +train, to be verified by a perusal of the next day's Boston papers, +they were forgiven as soon as they were uttered; for the light patter of +Minnie's voice died away in a quaver of genuine feeling; and a shower of +real tears threw for once a veil of sweetness over her little +inexpressive face. + +THE END. + +[Illustration] + + + + +BY ANNA FULLER. + + +A LITERARY COURTSHIP. + + =Under the auspices of Pike's Peak.= Printed on deckel edged + paper, with illustrations. 22nd edition. 12 deg., gilt top $1.25 + +"A delightful little love story. Like her other book it is bright and +breezy; its humor is crisp and the general idea decidedly original. It +is just the book to slip into the pocket for a journey, when one does +not care for a novel or serious reading."--_Boston Times._ + +A VENETIAN JUNE. + + Illustrated by George Sloane. Printed on deckel edged paper. + 7th edition. 12 deg., gilt top $1.25 + +"_A Venetian June_ bespeaks its materials by its title, and very full +the little story is of the picturesqueness, the novelty, the beauty, of +life in the city of gondolas and gondoliers--a strong and able work, +showing seriousness of motive and strength of touch."--_Literary World._ + + A _Venetian June_ and _A Literary Courtship_ are also put up + as a set in a box. 2 vols $2.50 + + +PRATT PORTRAITS. + + =Sketched in a New England Suburb.= 10th edition. 16 deg., paper, + 50 cts.; cloth $1.00 + + New edition, illustrated by George Sloane. 8 deg. $2.00 + +"The lines the author cuts in her vignette are sharp and clear, but she +has, too, not alone the knack of color, but, what is rarer, the gift of +humor."--_New York Times._ + +PEAK AND PRAIRIE. + + =From a Colorado Sketch-book.= 3rd edition. 16 deg. With a + frontispiece by Louis Loeb $1.00 + +"We may say that the jaded reader fagged with the strenuous art of the +passing hour, who chances to select this volume to cheer the hours, will +throw up his hat for sheer joy at having hit upon a book in which +morbidness and self-consciousness are conspicuous, by their +absence."--_New York Times._ + + + + +THE HUDSON LIBRARY + +_Registered as Second-Class Matter._ + +16 deg., paper, 50 cts.; 12 deg., cloth, $1.00 and $1.25. + + +I. =Love and Shawl-Straps.= By ANNETTE LUCILE NOBLE. + + "Decidedly a success."--_Boston Herald._ + +II. =Miss Hurd: An Enigma.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + "Miss Hurd fulfils one's anticipations from start to finish. + She keeps you in a state of suspense which is positively + fascinating."--_Kansas Times._ + +III. =How Thankful was Bewitched.= By J. K. HOSMER. + + "A picturesque romance charmingly told. The interest is both + historical and poetic."--_Independent._ + +IV. =A Woman of Impulse.= By JUSTIN HUNTLEY MCCARTHY. + + "It is a book well worth reading, charmingly written, and + containing a most interesting collection of characters that + are just like life...."--_Chicago Journal._ + +V. =Countess Bettina.= By CLINTON ROSS. + + "There is a charm in stories of this kind, free from + sentimentality, and written only to entertain."--_Boston + Times._ + +VI. =Her Majesty.= By ELIZABETH K. TOMPKINS. + + "It is written with a charming style, with grace and ease, + and very pretty unexpected turns of expression."--DROCH, in + _N. Y. Life_. + +VII. =God Forsaken.= By FREDERIC BRETON. + + "A very clever book.... The characters are well and firmly + drawn."--_Liverpool Mercury._ + +VIII. =An Island Princess.= By THEODORE GIFT. + + "A charming and often brilliant tale."--_Literary World._ + +IX. =Elizabeth's Pretenders.= By HAMILTON AIDE. + + "It is a novel of character, of uncommon power and interest, + wholesome, humorous, and sensible in every + chapter."--_Bookman._ + +X. =At Tuxter's.= By G. B. BURGIN. + + "A very interesting story. The characters are particularly + well drawn."--_Boston Times._ + +XI. =At Cherryfield Hall.= By FREDERIC H. BALFOUR (Ross George Deering). + + "This is a brilliantly-told tale, the constructive ingenuity + and literary excellence of which entitle the author to a + place of honor in the foremost rank of contemporary English + romancists."--_London Telegraph._ + +XII. =The Crime of the Century.= By R. OTTOLENGUI. + + "It is one of the best-told stories of its kind we have + read, and the reader will not be able to guess its ending + easily."--_Boston Times._ + +XIII. =The Things that Matter.= By FRANCIS GRIBBLE. + + "A very amusing novel, full of bright satire directed + against the New Woman and similar objects."--_London + Speaker._ + +XIV. =The Heart of Life.= By W. H. MALLOCK. + + "Interesting, sometimes tender, and uniformly brilliant.... + People will read Mr. Mallock's 'Heart of Life,' for the + extraordinary brilliance with which he tells his + story."--_Daily Telegraph._ + +XV. =The Broken Ring.= By ELIZABETH K. TOMPKINS. + + "A romance of war and love in royal life, pleasantly written + and cleverly composed for melodramatic effect in the + end."--_Independent._ + +XVI. =The Strange Schemes of Randolph Mason.= By MELVILLE D. POST. + + "This book is very entertaining and original ... ingeniously + constructed ... well worth reading."--_N. Y. Herald._ + +XVII. =That Affair Next Door.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + "The success of this is something almost unprecedented. Its + startling ingenuity, sustained interest, and wonderful plot + shows that the author's hand has not lost its + cunning."--_Buffalo Inquirer._ + +XVIII. =In the Crucible.= By GRACE DENIO LITCHFIELD. + + "The reader will find in this book bright, breezy talk, and + a more than ordinary insight into the possibilities of human + character."--_Cambridge Tribune._ + +XIX. =Eyes Like the Sea.= By MAURUS JOKAI. + + "A strikingly original and powerful story."--_London + Speaker._ + +XX. =An Uncrowned King.= By S. C. GRIER. + + "Original and uncommonly interesting."--_Scotsman._ + +XXI. =The Professor's Dilemma.= By A. L. NOBLE. + + "A bright, entertaining novel ... fresh, piquant, and well + told."--_Boston Transcript._ + +XXII. =The Ways of Life.= Two Stories. By MRS. OLIPHANT. + + "As a work of art we can praise the story without + reserve."--_London Spectator._ + +XXIII. =The Man of the Family.= By CHRISTIAN REID. + + "A Southern story of romantic and thrilling + interest."--_Boston Times._ + +XXIV. =Margot.= By SIDNEY PICKERING. + + "We have nothing but praise for this excellently written + novel."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + +XXV. =The Fall of the Sparrow.= By M. C. BALFOUR. + + "A book to be enjoyed ... of unlagging interest and original + in conception."--_Boston Times._ + +XXVI. =Elementary Jane.= By RICHARD PRYCE. + + "A heartfelt, sincere, beautiful love story, told with + infinite humor."--_Chicago Times-Herald._ + +XXVII. =The Man of Last Resort.= By MELVILLE D. POST. + + "The author makes a strong plea for moral responsibility in + his work, and his vivid style and undeniable earnestness + must carry great weight with all thinking readers. It is a + notable book."--_Boston Times._ + +XXVIII. =The Confession of Stephen Whapshare.= By EMMA BROOKE. + + _In preparation:_ + +XXIX. =The Chase of an Heiress.= By CHRISTIAN REID. + +XXX. =Lost Man's Lane.= By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. + + + + +THE UNIVERSITY SERIES + + +I. =Harvard Stories.= Sketches of the Undergraduate. By W. K. POST. +Fifteenth edition. 12 deg., paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "Not since the days of _Hammersmith_ have we had such a + vivid picture of college life as Mr. W. K. Post has given us + in this book. Unpretentious, in their style, the stories are + mere sketches, yet withal the tone is so genuine, the local + color so truly 'crimson,' as to make the book one of + unfailing interest."--_Literary World._ + +II. =Pale Yarns.= By J. S. WOOD. Fifth edition. Illustrated, 12 deg., $1.00. + + "A bright, realistic picture of college life, told in an + easy conversational, or descriptive style, and cannot fail + to genuinely interest the reader who has the slightest + appreciation of humor. The volume is illustrated and is just + the book for an idle or a lonely hour."--_Los Angeles + Times._ + +III. =The Babe, B.A.= Stories of Life at Cambridge University. By EDW +F. BENSON. Illustrated, 12 deg., $1.00. + + "The story tells of the every-day life of a young man called + the Babe.... Cleverly written and one of the best this + author has written."--_Leader_, New Haven. + +IV. =A Princetonian.= A Story of Undergraduate Life at the College of +New Jersey. By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated, 12 deg., $1.25. + + "It is fresh, hearty, sensible, and readable, leaving a good + impression of college life upon the mind."--_Baltimore Sun._ + + +BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + +=The Leavenworth Case.= A Lawyer's Story. 4 deg., paper, 20 cts.; 16 deg., +paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "She has worked up a _cause celebre_ with a fertility of + device and ingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie + Collins or Edgar Allan Poe."--_Christian Union._ + + ".... Told with a force and power that indicate great + dramatic talent in the writer."--_St. Louis Post._ + +=Hand and Ring.= Popular edition. 4 deg., paper, 20 cts.; 16 deg., paper, +illustrated, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "The best, most intricate, most perfectly constructed, and + most fascinating detective story ever written."--_Utica + Herald._ + +=Marked "Personal."= 16 deg., paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + "It is a tribute to the author's genius that she never tires + and never loses her readers. It moves on, clean and healthy, + and ends without raising images or making impressions which + have to be forgotten."--_Boston Journal._ + +=That Affair Next Door.= Hudson Library, No. 17. Seventh edition. 12 deg., +paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00. + + Other works by Anna Katharine Green are as follows: "A + Strange Disappearance," "The Sword of Damocles," "The Mill + Mystery," "Behind Closed Doors," "X. Y. Z.," "7 to 12," "The + Old Stone House," "Cynthia Wakeham's Money," "The Doctor, + His Wife, and the Clock," "Dr. Izard." + + * * * * * + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Boston Neighbours In Town and Out, by +Agnes Blake Poor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOSTON NEIGHBOURS IN TOWN AND OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 36196.txt or 36196.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/9/36196/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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