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diff --git a/40129-0.txt b/40129-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be34e5a --- /dev/null +++ b/40129-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11920 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40129 *** + + MISSY + + _A Novel_ + + + BY + + THE AUTHOR OF "RUTLEDGE" + + "THE SUTHERLANDS," "LOUIE'S LAST TERM AT ST. MARY'S," "FRANK + WARRINGTON," "RICHARD VANDERMARCK," "ST. PHILIP'S," + "A PERFECT ADONIS," ETC., ETC., ETC. + + + [Illustration] + + + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY + The Riverside Press, Cambridge + + + + + Copyright, 1880, + BY G. W. CARLETON & CO. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. Yellowcoats 9 + + II. St. John 26 + + III. The First Sermon 45 + + IV. The People next Door 49 + + V. Gabby and Jay 66 + + VI. A Passing Soul 74 + + VII. Misrule 94 + + VIII. A Tea-Table Truce 109 + + IX. The Sweets of Victory 118 + + X. Per Aspera ad Astra 156 + + XI. My Duty to my Neighbor 175 + + XII. Fire and Sword 190 + + XIII. Mine Host 211 + + XIV. Yellowcoats Calls to Inquire 227 + + XV. A Misogynist 240 + + XVI. Alphonsine 262 + + XVII. Enter Miss Varian 293 + + XVIII. At the Beach Gate 301 + + XIX. Five Candles 305 + + XX. The Honeyed Cousins 320 + + XXI. Mrs. Hazard Smatter 332 + + XXII. A Garden Party 344 + + XXIII. P. P. C. 351 + + XXIV. Shut and Barred 363 + + XXV. Amice, ascende superius 366 + + XXVI. The Brook in the Way 379 + + XXVII. Sanctuary 383 + + XXVIII. Vespers 387 + + XXIX. Surrender 397 + + + + +MISSY. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +YELLOWCOATS. + + +"I felt sure the train would be late," said Missy, sitting down on the +ottoman beside the fire. "It is so disagreeable to have to wait for what +you dread." + +"But I think you have begun to be impatient too soon," said her mother, +glancing up. "That clock is several minutes fast, and Peters always +drives slower after dusk. Besides, you know he has the heavy carriage. I +think it would be foolish to begin to look for them for twenty minutes +yet." + +"I believe you are right," said the daughter, with a sigh. "I wish it +were over." + +"That is natural, but we can't hurry it. We shall have twenty minutes of +quiet. Come and sit down, I have hardly seen you to-day." + +For the truth was, Missy had been very busy all day, getting ready for a +most unwelcome guest. The pale invalid mother, to whom the guest was as +unwelcome, had been obliged to lie on her sofa, without the solace of +occupation. + +"I hope she will like it," said Missy, irrelevantly, getting up and +pushing her ottoman over to her mother's sofa, then, before sitting +down, going to the table and putting a leaf of geranium in a different +attitude, then stepping back and looking at it. An India bowl was filled +with scarlet geranium, and the light of a low lamp fell upon it and made +a beautiful patch of color. + +"I might as well light the candles," she said, "and then I will sit down +quietly and wait." She took a lighter, and stooping to the fire, set it +ablaze, and went to some candles on the low book shelves and lighted +them. "I begrudge my pretty candles," she said, turning her head to look +at the effect. + +"Why do you light them then?" said her mother, with a faint sigh. "Come +and sit down." + +"In a moment," answered Missy. "I wonder if the hall is light enough." +She had looked at the hall lamps half a dozen times, but in fact she was +too restless to sit down. She pulled the bell impatiently, and a tidy +maid in spotless cap and apron came. She had perceived an imperfection +in the adjustment of a rug, and like a wise housekeeper, she did not +readjust it herself. Then she scanned the maid's costume, all with the +eyes of the unwelcome guest. + +"I thought that you understood me that I did not want those aprons worn +again. Put on one of the new set that I gave you." + +Mrs. Varian sighed; she could never at any period of life have dared to +do the like, but Missy was a little dragon, and kept the servants in +good order, aprons and all. The servant retired to correct her costume, +and Missy began to look about for something else to correct. But the +room was all in perfect order, glowing with warmth and color, delicious +with the scent of flowers, there was nothing for her to do. She walked +up and down before the fire, with the air of a person who objects to +sitting down and having a quiet talk, at least so her mother thought. + +Missy was small; her figure was perfect in its proportions; her hands +and feet quite worth noticing for their beauty. She was not plump, +rather slight than plump, and yet well rounded. Her head was well set on +her shoulders, and she moved it deliberately, not rapidly, and while all +her movements showed energy, she was not bustling. She was so _petite_ +she was not severe: that was all that saved her. Her face was not +pretty, her complexion was colorless, her eyes very light, her nose +_retroussé_. Her hair was soft and fine and waving, and of a pretty +color, though not light enough to be flaxen, and not bright enough to be +golden. It had the fortunate attribute of looking picturesque and +pleasant, whether arranged or disarranged. Missy had her own way of +dressing herself, of course. Such an energetic young woman could not be +indifferent to a subject of such moment. She dressed in the best and +latest fashion, with her own modification as to color and style. Her +dresses were almost always gray, or white, or black, and as little +trimmed as possible, and she never wore ornaments. Whether this were +matter of principle or taste, she had not yet announced. Certainly if +the former, virtue was its own reward; for no ornaments could have +brought color to her face, or added any grace to its irregular outline, +and her arms and hands would have been spoiled by rings and bracelets: +every link would have hid a beauty. To-night she wore a soft gray silk, +with crêpe lisse ruffles at the throat and elbows, and grey silk +stockings and pretty low shoes with high heels. Putting one hand on the +mantel above her, she stretched out her foot to the blaze, and resting +her toe on the andiron, looked down at it attentively, though probably +absently. + +"I hope she will like it," she repeated. + +"What, your gray stocking or your new shoe? They are both lovely," said +Mrs. Varian, trying to be gay. + +"No," said Missy, indignantly, withdrawing the pretty foot. "No--but +it--all--the house--the place. Oh, mamma," and she went across to the +sofa and threw herself in a low chair by it, "it _is_ a trial, isn't +it?" + +"Yes, my child," said Mrs. Varian, with a gentle caress of the hand put +out to her. "But if you do not want to alienate your brother, do not let +him guess it." Missy gave an impatient movement. + +"Must I try to enter into his fool's paradise? I can't be sympathetic, +I'm afraid, even to retain my present modest place in his affections." + +"But be reasonable, Missy. You knew he would sometime marry." + +"Sometime, yes, mamma. But I cannot think of such a boy as going to be +married. It really is not decorous." + +"O my dear Missy. Think again. St. John is nearly twenty. It only seems +absurd to us my dear, because--because--" + +"Because we are so old, mamma. I know it. Yes; don't mind speaking of +it. I know it very well. I am--twenty-seven." And Missy looked into the +fire with a sort of dreamy wonder; but her voice showed the fact had no +sting for her. Her life had been such that she did not mind it that she +was no longer young. She had never been like other girls, nor had their +ambitions. She had known she was not pretty; she had not expected to +marry. Her life had been very full of occupation and of duty, and of +things that gave her pleasure. She also had had an important position, +owing to her mother's invalid condition. She was lady of the house, she +was an important person; a good deal of money passed through her hands, +a good many persons looked up to her. As for her heart, it was not +hungry. She had a passionate love for her mother, who, since the death +of her stepfather, had depended much upon her; and towards her young +stepbrother, now on this October night, bringing home an unwelcome +fiancée, she had felt a sort of tigerish mother love. There were seven +years between them. She had always felt she owned him--and though +bitterly jealous of the fond and blind devotion of her mother to him (as +she saw it), she felt as if her life were inseparable from his. How +_could_ he live and love and have an existence in what she had no part? +But it was even so. The boy had outgrown her, and had no longer any need +of her. She had, indeed, need of all her strength and courage to-night, +and the mother saw it, putting aside her own needs, which were not +likely to be less. For this boy, St. John, and this daughter were all +she had left her of a past not always very bright, even to remember. But +with patient sweetness she sought to comfort Missy, smarting with the +first knowledge that she was not necessary to some one whom she loved. + +"You know we should have been prepared for it," she said. "It really is +not strange--twenty is not young." + +"I suppose not. But that is the very least of it. Mamma, you know this is +throwing himself away. You know this is a bitter disappointment to you. +You know she is the last person you would have chosen for him. You know +you feel as I do, now confess it." Missy had a way of speaking +vehemently, and her words tripped over each other in this speech. + +"Well," said Mrs. Varian, with calm motherly justice, upholding the +cause of the absent offender, while she soothed the wrath of the present +offended, "I will confess, I am sorry. I am even disappointed in St. +John--but that may be my fault, and not his failure. Perhaps I was +unreasonable to expect more of him than of others." + +"More of him? Why pray, do theological students, as a rule, engage +themselves to actresses before they are half through their studies?" + +"My dear Missy, I must beg of you--this is unwarrantable. You have no +right to call her an actress. Not the smallest right." + +"Excuse me, mamma, I think I have a right. A person who gives readings, +a person whose one ambition is to be before the public, who is only +detained from the stage by want of ability to be successful on it, who +is an adventuress, neither more nor less, who has neither social +position nor private principle, who has beauty and who means to use +it--may be called an actress, without any injustice to herself, but +only to the class to which she does no credit." + +The words tripped over each other vehemently now. + +"You are very wrong, very unwise to speak and feel so, Missy. I must beg +you to control yourself, even in speaking to me. It simply is not +right." + +"You do not like the truth, mamma, you do not like the English language. +I have spoken the truth, I have used plain language. What have I said +wrong? I cannot make things according to your wishes by being silent. I +can only keep them out of your sight. Is it not true that she has given +readings? Not in absolute public, but as near it as she could get. Do we +not know that she has made more than one effort to get on the stage? Are +not she and her mother poor, and living on their wits? Is she not +beautiful, and is not that all we know to her advantage? I think I have +spoken the truth after all, if you will please review it." + +"Very bitter truth, and not much mixture of love in it. And I think, +considering that we have not seen her yet, we might suspend judgment a +little, and hope the best of her." + +"Perhaps share in St. John's infatuation. Oh!" and Missy laughed +scornfully, while her mother's face quivered with pain as she turned it +away. + +"I do not think there is much danger of your seeing her with St. John's +eyes, but I do think there is danger of you driving him from you, and +losing all influence over him." + +"I do not want any influence over him," said Missy hotly. "I never will +stand between him and her. I have given him up to her; he has made his +choice. Mamma, mamma, why did we get talking this way? And they may be +here any minute. I made up my mind not to speak another word to you +about it, and here I have got myself worked up, and my cheeks burn so." + +She pressed the back of her hand against her cheek, and getting up +walked two or three times across the room. + +"You will be worn out before they come," she said with late compunction, +noticing the tremor of her mother's hand, "and all the excitement after, +and what a dreadful night you'll have. I suppose you will not sleep at +all. Dear, dear, I am so sorry. And here comes Aunt Harriet. I had +forgotten she asked me to call her when you were ready to come down. I +suppose she will scold, and make everything wretched," and Missy moved +across to open the parlor door, as if she thought life a very trying +complication of worries and worse. To her relief, however, Miss Varian's +rather shrill voice had more question than reproach in it as she entered +the room, led by a servant. + +"Do tell me if it is not time for the train?" she said. "I have been +listening for the whistle for the last ten minutes. Goneril has let my +clock run down, and as it is the only one in the house that can be +depended on, we are in a bad way." + +"That is a favorite fiction of yours, I know," said Missy, arranging a +seat for her, into which Goneril backed her. "But as my watch has only +varied two minutes since last July, I feel you may be reassured about +the time. I can't pretend to hear a whistle four miles off, but I do +think I can be trusted to tell what o'clock it is--within two minutes." + +"My footstool, Goneril," said Miss Varian sharply, "and you've dropped +my handkerchief." + +Goneril, a good-looking woman of about forty, a superior American +servant who resented her position always, and went as far as she dared +to go in endangering it, stooped and picked up the handkerchief and +shook it out with suppressed vehemence, and thrust it into her mistress' +hand. "Is that all?" she asked, with a sort of sniff, going towards the +door. + +"Yes, _all_," said Miss Varian, in a tone that spoke volumes. Goneril +indulged in another sniff, and went. + +"That insufferable woman," muttered her employer, below her breath. + +Missy smiled calmly, but said nothing. It always calmed her to see her +step-aunt in a temper with Goneril: it gave her a feeling of +superiority. She never would have endured the woman for a day, but she +was quite willing her elder should, if she chose. The poor lady's +blindness would have given every one a feeling of tenderness, if she had +not been too sharp and petulant to permit any one to feel tender long. +The position of her attendant was not one to be envied. Goneril was an +American farmer's daughter, who had made a bad marriage (and the man who +married her had not made altogether a good one). She had had high +ambitions, as became an American farmer's daughter, and she had come +down to living out at service, and what more cruel statement could be +made? No worse fate could have overtaken her she was sure, and she made +no secret of her estimate of domestic service for American farmer's +daughters. She quarrelled incessantly with the servants of humbler +nationality in the house, who did not mind it much, and who laughed a +little at her proud parentage. They did not see the difference +themselves. She was industrious, and capable, and vigorous, and was +indispensable to Miss Varian, out of whom she wrung ever-increasing +wages. Her father, the American farmer, had done handsomely by her in +the matter of a name; he had called her Regan Goneril. She had grown up +in the sanctity of home as Regan, but now that she was cast out into the +battle of life, she preferred to be called Goneril. She also hoped to be +shielded by this thin disguise from the pursuit of the discarded +husband. The belief in the Varian kitchen was, that there was no danger +of any such pursuit: in fact, that the husband would go very fast in the +opposite direction. But she liked to talk about it, and about her +goodness in putting up with Miss Varian's temper; she placed her service +rather in the light of missionary work. If she did not feel it to be her +duty to stay with the poor blind woman, she said, no money would induce +her to remain. (It took more and more money every year, however, to +stiffen and hold up her sense of duty.) + +Missy took the brawls between Miss Varian and her maid, very calmly. "It +gives an interest to her life," she said from a height. On this evening, +occupied as she was by her own matters, she heard the story of her +aunt's wrongs more indifferently than ever. And even Miss Varian soon +forgot that there was anything more absorbing than the waited-for +arrival. + +"It may be nine o'clock before they get here," she said; "that shows the +impropriety of letting a girl go off on journeys with a lover. Such +things weren't done in my time. I shouldn't have thought of doing such +a thing." + +"You don't know; you might have thought of it, if you had ever been +engaged," said Missy, with malice. + +"Well, my dear, we have neither of us been tempted," retorted her aunt, +urbanely. "Let us be charitable. I have no doubt we should, both of us, +have been able to take care of ourselves; but it may be different with +your sister elect. These very handsome women, you know, are not always +wise." + +"That is true," said Missy, tapping her foot impatiently as she stood +before the fire. "Mamma, you don't think you'd like a cup of tea? You +may have to wait a good while." + +"No, thank you," said Mrs. Varian meekly. + +She always wore a pained expression when her sister-in-law was present; +but as the sister-in-law could not see it, it did no harm. She always +dreaded the next word. They had always been uncongenial; but it is one +thing to have an uncongenial sister-in-law that you can get away from, +or go to see only when you are braced up to the business, and another to +have her under your own roof, a prisoner, by reason of her misfortune +and your sense of duty--able to prey upon you whether you are well or +ill; as familiar and everyday as your dressing-gown and slippers; having +no respect for your engagements or your indigestions. When this +blindness threw Harriet Varian upon her hands, she felt as if her home +were invaded, desecrated, spoiled, but she had not a moment's hesitation +as to her duty. A frivolous youth and a worldly, pleasure-seeking +maturity, had ill prepared the poor woman for her dreary doom. She had +fitted herself to it with a bitter philosophy; for do we not all fit +ourselves to our lot, in one way or another. "_L'homme est en délire +s'il ose murmurer_," but it is to be hoped Heaven is not always critical +in the matter of resignation. Harriet Varian had submitted, but she was +in the primer of Christian principle, as it were; attaining with +difficulty in middle age the lesson that would have been easy to her, if +she had begun in childhood. When you have spent thirty-four years in +having your own way, and consulting your own pleasure quite exclusively, +it comes a trifle hard to do exactly as you do not wish to do, and to +find that pleasure is a term unknown in your vocabulary: when you are +old that another should gird you and lead you whither you would not. + +But the healthy and Christian surroundings of the home to which she came +were not without their influence. Mrs. Varian's sweet endurance of her +life-long suffering, St. John's healthy goodness, and Missy's vigorous +duty-doing, helped her, against her will. St. John was her great object +of interest in life. All her money was to go to him, and she actually +felt compensated for her dull and restricted existence, sometimes, when +she reflected that it swelled, by so many thousand a year, the fortune +that would be his. She had not lost her interest in the world, since she +had him to connect her with it, and to give her an excuse for the +indulgence of ambition. Of course she had been bitterly set against all +the system upon which he had been educated, and would have thwarted it +if she had had the power. His entering the church had been a great trial +to her, but she openly said it was his mother's plan, and no wish of +his, and before he was ordained he would be old enough to see the folly +of it, and to get clear of it. Then came his engagement, and at this she +was wroth indeed, but as it furnished her with liberal weapons against +his disappointed mother, she found her own comfort in it. Now she hoped +Dorla would see the folly of her course; now she could understand what +other people had known all along: simply that she was keeping him in a +false and unhealthy state of religious feeling, that she had forced upon +him duties and aspirations all her own and none of his; that there had +come a reaction, that there was a flat failure when he came to see even +a corner of the world from which she had debarred him. Here he was, +carried away by his infatuation for a woman whom he would have been too +wise to choose if his mother had not tried to make a monk of him, and to +keep him as guileless and ignorant as a girl. Here he was bound to a +woman who would ruin his career, spoil his life for him, spend his +money, disgrace his name; and it was "all the work of his mother." These +were some of the amenities of the family life at Yellowcoats. These were +the certain truths that were spoken of and to Mrs. Varian by her candid +and unprejudiced sister-in-law. + +And there was too much fact in them to be borne as Harriet's criticisms +were generally borne by Mrs. Varian. Perhaps it was all true, she said +to herself in the morning watches, as the stars grew pale; but of all +the failures of her life this was the bitterest. How many hopes, and how +high, were centered in her boy! She had dreamed for him, she had schemed +for him, she had seen her life retrieved in him. A career, in which +earthly ambition had no part, she had planned for him, and into its +beginning she had led him. He had been so easily guided, he was so good, +he loved her so; had it all been a mistake? could it be all delusion? If +he had been headstrong, a willful, rebellious boy, it never could have +been. But to have bound him with his own lovingness, to have slain him +with his own sweetness, this was a cruel thought. Why had no voice +called to her from heaven to warn her of it; why was she left to think +she was doing the very best for him, when she was truly acting as the +enemy who sought his life? She had led him up such a steep and giddy +path, that the first glance downward of his young, untutored eyes, sent +him reeling to the bottom. Why had God suffered this? God, who loved him +and her. She had thought that she had, long ago, accepted God's will in +all and for all, and owned it sweetest and best. But this opened her +eyes sadly to her self-deception. She could not abandon herself to a +will that seemed to have put a sword into her hand, by which she had +wounded her child unwittingly, thinking that she did God service. She +could have borne mistake and misconception for herself, but that her boy +should bear the penalty seemed, even to her humbled will, a bitter +punishment. The future was all too plain, even without her +sister-in-law's interpretation. Yes, St. John's career was spoiled. If +he entered the church at all, having made such a connection, it would be +but to lead a half-way, feeble life, and to bring discredit on his +faith. If he gave it up, there was nothing before him but a life of ease +with a large fortune and a natural tendency to indolence. It was not in +him to think of another profession and to make an interest and an aim +to himself other than the one that he had had from childhood. His mother +knew him too well to believe that possible. Humanly speaking, St. John +Varian had lost his best chance of distinction when he gave his fate +into the keeping of this beautiful adventuress. He might have been what +he was brought up to be; he would never be anything else. + +"Think of it," said Miss Varian, tapping her fan sharply on the arm of +her chair, as she talked, "think of it. I suppose that woman isn't +coming with her daughter, because she hasn't clothes to come in. I +suppose every cent has been expended on the girl, and the summer's +campaign has run them deep in debt. No doubt that poor boy will have to +pay for the powder and balls that shot him, by and bye. Not post-obit, +but post-matrimonium. Ha, ha! I don't know which is worse. To think of +his being such a fool. Why, at his age his father was a man of the +world. He could have been trusted not to be caught by the first woman +that angled for him. But then, mamma was always resolute with him and +made him understand something of life, and rely upon himself. He was +never coddled. I don't think I ever remember Felix when he couldn't take +care of himself." + +Missy had not loved her stepfather, and this comparison enraged her +(though not by its novelty). Naturally, she could not look for sympathy +to her mother, who had been devoted to her husband. So she had to bite +her lips and keep time with her foot upon the tiles, to Miss Varian's +fan upon the arm chair. + +"There!" exclaimed the latter at this exasperating juncture. "There, I +hear the whistle." No one else heard it of course, but no one ventured +to dispute the correctness of the blind woman's wonderful hearing. + +"Half an hour at least to wait," exclaimed Missy, almost crying as she +flung herself into a chair. "And Peters will drive his slowest, and the +tea will all be ruined. What can have kept the train so late." Mrs. +Varian pressed her hand before her eyes. It seemed to her that another +half hour of this fret and suspense would be worse than a calamity. But +she had gone further in her matter than the vehement souls who bemoaned +themselves beside her--she could be silent. + +"I shall go and walk up and down on the piazza," said Missy, starting +up, "I long for the fresh air." + +Mrs. Varian looked appealing towards her, but she did not see it; and +throwing a cloak over her shoulders, she went out on the piazza. It was +a cool, clear October night; there was no moon, but there were hosts of +stars, which she could dimly see through the great trees not yet bare of +foliage, though the lawn was strewn with leaves. The air cooled and +rested her; but her thoughts were still a trifle bloodthirsty. + +"Poor mamma," she said to herself, glancing through the window, as she +walked quickly to and fro, "poor mamma. If she could only come out and +walk, and feel the fresh air on her face, and get away from Aunt +Harriet. I believe I was contemptible to come away and leave her. I can +see Aunt Harriet is saying something dreadful, from mamma's expression. +I wish I could kill her." Missy allowed herself to think in highly +colored language. She had so often said to herself that she would like +to strangle Aunt Harriet, to drown her with her own hands, to hang her, +that she had omitted to perceive that it wasn't altogether right. She +stood at the window looking in, holding her cloak together with one +hand, and with the other holding up her dress from the floor of the +piazza, which was wet with dew. So she had no hand left to clench as she +looked at her; but she set her teeth together vindictively and knit her +brow. + +"If ever there was a wicked woman!" she exclaimed below her breath. She +certainly wasn't a handsome woman, as Missy looked at her, sitting in +rather a stiff chair by the fire-place, with her feet on a stool. She +was heavily built, and her clothes were put on awkwardly, as if they did +not belong to her, or had not been put on by her. She was nodding her +head in a peremptory way as she said the thing that Missy was sure was +distressing her mother. Then Missy watched while her mother, with a look +of more open suffering than was usual with her, leaned her head back +upon the pillows, and pressed her hands silently together. "How pretty +she is, poor mamma," she thought. "Every one admires her, though she is +so faded and suffering. Beauty is a great gift," and then she began +slowly to walk up and down, gazing in at the windows as she passed them, +and looking at the picture framed by the hangings within. The light of +the fire and the light of the lamp both fell on the reclining figure of +her mother. Her face had resumed its ordinary quiet, and her graceful +white hands were lying unclasped on the rich shawl spread over her. Her +face was still beautiful in outline; her hair was brown and soft; there +was something pathetic in her eyes. She was graceful, refined and +elegant, the sort of woman that men always serve with alacrity and a +shade of chivalry, even when she is faded and no longer young. She was +dependent and not particularly practical; but there were always plenty +to take care of her, and to do the part of life for which she was +unfitted. If a woman can't take care of herself, there are generally +enough ready to do it for her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +ST. JOHN. + + +"There is the carriage!" exclaimed Missy, as she caught the sound of +wheels in the distance. She darted into the house, her heart beating +with violence. "Mamma, I believe they are coming," she said with forced +calmness, as she went into the parlor, shaking out the fringe of the +shawl across her mother's lap, and straightening the foot-stool. "Aunt +Harriet, do let me move your chair a little back. Goneril's one idea +seems to be to put it always as much in the way as possible." + +"Don't scold," said Miss Varian, tartly. "Your new sister may take a +prejudice against you." + +Missy disdained to answer, but occupied herself with putting on the fire +some choice pine knots which she had been reserving for this moment. +They blazed up with effusion; the room was beautiful. The carriage +wheels drew nearer; they were before the house. Missy threw open the +parlor door and advanced into the hall, with a very firm step, but with +a very weak heart. She knew her hands were cold and that they trembled. +How could she keep this from the knowledge of her guest; it was all very +well to walk forward under the crystal lamps, as if she were a queen. +But queens arrange to keep their hands from shaking, and to command +their voices. + +The maid had already gone out to the steps to bring in the shawls and +bags. Everything seemed to swim before Missy as she stood in the hall +door. The light went out in a flood across the piazza, but there seemed +to be darkness beyond, about the carriage. There was no murmur of +voices. Missy in bewilderment saw her brother, and then the maid coming +up the steps after him and carrying nothing. In her agitation she hardly +looked at him, as, at the door, he stooped down and kissed her, passing +on. But the touch of his hand was light and cold. + +"You have no wraps, or bags, or anything," she said confusedly, +following him. + +"No," he said, in a forced voice, throwing his hat on a table as he +passed it, and going towards the stairs. "Is mamma in her room?" + +"No, in the parlor waiting for you." + +A contraction passed across his face as he turned toward the open parlor +door, from which such a light came. He went in, however, quickly, and +hurried to his mother's sofa. She had half raised herself from it, and +with an agitated face looked up at him. + +"You are--alone--St. John?" + +"I am alone, mamma," he said in a strained, unnatural voice, stooping to +embrace her. + +Miss Varian had caught the scent of trouble and was standing up beside +her chair. + +"Aunt Harriet," he said, as if he had forgotten her, going over to her +and kissing her. + +"You are late," she said, as he turned away. + +"Am I?" he said, looking at his watch, but very much as if he did not +see it. "Yes, I suppose so. There was an accident or something on the +road. The days are growing short. I am afraid I have kept you waiting." + +Then he walked restlessly up and down the room, and took up and laid +down a book upon the table, and spoke to a dog that came whisking about +his feet, but in a way that showed that the book and the dog had not +either entered into his mind. + +"I will go and see about tea," said Missy, faintly, glad to get away. +St. John's face frightened her. He looked ten years older. He was +pallid. There was a most affecting look of suffering about his mouth. +His eyes were strange to her; they were absolutely unlike her brother's +eyes. What could it all mean? What had befallen him? She felt as if they +were all in a dream. She hurried into the dining-room, where the +waitress was whispering with gesticulation to the cook and laundress, +whose faces appeared in the further door full of curiosity. Her presence +put them to flight; the waitress, much humbled, bestirred herself to +obey Missy's orders and remove the unneeded plate and chair, and to make +the table look as if it were not intended for more than would sit down +to it. How large it looked; Missy was so sorry that extra leaf had been +put in. And all the best china, and the silver that was not used every +day. What a glare and glitter they made; she hated the sight of them; +she knew they would give St. John a stab. She would have taken some off +the table, but that she felt the demure waitress would make a note of +it. She had patiently to see her lighting the candles in the sconces. +Poor St. John's eyes would ache at so much light. But there was no help +for it now. + +"Put tea upon the table at once," said Missy, sharply. There was no +relief for her but scolding the innocent maid, and no one could have the +heart to deny her that, if it would do her any good. + +In a few moments the tea was served, and Missy went to announce it +herself. Things were not altered in the parlor. St. John and his aunt +were trying to talk in a way that would not convict the one of a broken +heart, and the other of a consuming curiosity. Mrs. Varian, very pale, +was leaning her head back on the pillows, and not speaking or looking at +them. + +"Mamma, tea is ready," said Missy, coming in. "St. John, take Aunt +Harriet. Mamma will come with me." + +"I think you may send me in a cup of tea," said Mrs. Varian. "I am +almost too tired to go into the dining-room." + +"Very well; that will be best. I will send Anne to wait upon you." + +So the party of three went into the brilliantly-lighted dining-room, and +sat down at the table that had been laid for five. Perhaps St. John +didn't see anything but the light; that hurt his eyes, for he put his +hand up once or twice to shield them. It was a ghastly feast. Aunt +Harriet talked fast and much. St. John could not follow her enough to +answer her with any show of sense. Missy blundered about the sugar in +the two cups of tea she made, and tried to speak in her ordinary tone, +but in vain. St. John sent oysters twice to his aunt, and not at all to +Missy, and when the servant brought him her plate he said, what? and put +it down before himself, and went on pouring cream into his tea, though +he had done it twice before. + +"No matter," said Missy sharply, to the girl, who could not make him +understand, and who looked inclined to titter. She did not want the +oysters, but she longed to see the poor fellow eat something himself, +and she watched him furtively from behind the urn. He took everything +upon his plate that was brought to him, but the physical effort of +eating seemed impossible to him. He could not even drink the tea, which +Missy had quietly renewed since the deluge of cream. + +The excitement had even affected Miss Varian's appetite; she found fault +with the rolls. This was a comfort to Missy, and restored to her the +feeling that the world was on its time-honored route, notwithstanding +her brother's troubles. At last it was impossible to watch it any +longer. He was sitting unevenly at the head of the table, with his +profile almost turned to her--as if he were ready to go away, ah, too +ready!--if he could get away. His untouched plate was pushed back. + +"St. John," said Missy, "do you want to take this cup of tea in to +mamma, or shall Rosa go with it?" + +"I will take it," he said, with an eager movement, getting up. The tears +rushed into Missy's eyes as she watched him going out of the door with +the cup of tea in his unsteady hand. Then she heard the parlor door +shut, as Anne came out and left the mother and son together. Missy could +fancy the eager, tender words, the outburst of wretchedness. Her own +heart ached unutterably. "As one whom his mother comforteth." Oh, that +he might be comforted, even though she was shut out, and could not help +him, and her help was not thought of. It was her first approach to great +trouble since she had been old enough to feel it intelligibly. How happy +we have been, she thought, as people always think; how smooth and sweet +our life has flowed; and now it is turned all out of its course, and +will never be the same again. It was a life-and-death matter, even +though no one wore a shroud, and no sod was broken; the smooth, happy +boy's face was gone. She would never look on it again, and she had loved +it so. She thought of him as he had been, only two months ago, when he +went away, easy, frank, happy, good. Everybody loved him. It was the +fashion to be fond of him, and it did not seem to hurt him. Missy +thought of his beauty, his fine proportions, his look of perfect health. +"Like as a moth fretting a garment," this trouble had already begun. His +harassed features, his sallow tint--why, it was like a dream. Poor St. +John! the only thing his sister had had to reproach him with had been +his boyishness, and that was over and done. He had not the regularity of +feature that had made his father remarkable for beauty, but he had the +same warm coloring, the deep blue eye, the fair yellow hair. He was +larger, too, than his father--a broad-shouldered, six-foot fellow, who +had been grown on the sunny side of the wall. About his brain power +there was a difference of opinion, as there will be about undeveloped +resources. His mother's judgment did not count; his aunt thought him +unusually clever for his age. Missy looked upon him as doubtfully +average. His masters loved him, and thought there might be a good deal +in him, if it could be waked up (but it hadn't been); his comrades +thought him a good fellow, but were sure he wouldn't set the sea on +fire. The men about the village, oyster men and stable boys, sailors of +sloops and tillers of soil, were all ready, to a man, to bet upon him, +whatever he might undertake. And here he was, not twenty yet, a boy whom +fortune had seemed to agree should be left to ripen to utmost slow +perfection, suddenly shaken with a blast of ice and fire, and called +upon to show cause why more time should be given him to develop the +powers within him, and to meet the inherent cruelty of life. It was +precipitate and cruel; and the sister's heart cried out against it. + +What was the mother's heart crying out? Missy yearned to know. But here +was, no one knew how much time to pass before she could see her mother. +Her duty now was to keep Aunt Harriet away from them, and to hold her in +check. And this was not easy. Freed from the restraint of St. John's +presence, Miss Varian's anxiety showed itself in irritability. She found +fault with everything, and soon brought her tea to an end. Then she +called for Goneril to take her to the parlor. While Rosa went for +Goneril, Missy said, firmly: + +"Wait a few minutes, Aunt Harriet. I am sure St. John wants to see mamma +alone a little while." + +Then Miss Varian gave way to a very bad fit of temper, only stopped by +the re-entrance of the servant. It was gall to her to think that his +mother could only comfort him, and that she had no place. But she +respected the decencies of life enough not to betray herself before the +servants. So while Missy busied herself in putting away the cake, and +locking up the tea caddy, she sat silent, listening eagerly for any +sound or movement in the parlor. + +"If I had the evening paper, I would read it to you," said Missy, having +come to the end of her invented business. "Rosa, go and look in the hall +for it." + +"It is on the parlor table, miss." + +"Well, no matter then; tell the cook to come here. I want to read her a +receipt for soup to-morrow." + +The receipt book was the only bit of literature in the dining-room, so +the cook came, and Missy read her the receipt for the new soup, and then +another receipt that had fallen into desuetude, and might be revived +with benefit to the ménage. And then she gave her orders for breakfast, +and charged the cook with a message for the clam man and the scallop +man, and the man who brought fish. For at Yellowcoats every man brings +the captive of his own bow and spear (or drag and net), and the man who +wooes oysters never vends fish; and the man who digs clams, digs clams +and never potatoes; and scallops are a distinct calling. + +All this time Missy was listening, with intent ear, for some movement in +the parlor, Miss Varian listening no less intently. The tea-table was +cleared--the cook could be detained no longer with any show of reason; +the waitress waited to know if there was anything she could bring Miss +Rothermel. It was so very unusual for any one to sit in the dining-room +after tea; there were no books in it, nor any easy chairs, nor anything +to do. The waitress, being a creature of habit, was quite disturbed to +see them stay, but she knew very well what it meant. + +At last! There was a movement across the hall--the parlor door opened, +and they heard St. John and his mother come out and go slowly up the +stairs. When they were on the first landing, Miss Varian said, sharply, + +"Well, I suppose we can be released now." + +"Yes, I think it will be as pleasant in the parlor," said Missy, giving +her arm to Miss Varian, and going forward with a firm step. She +installed her companion in an easy chair, seated herself, and read aloud +the evening paper. Politics, fashions, marriages, and deaths, what a +senseless jumble they made in her mind. She was often called sharply to +account for betraying the jumble in her tone, for Miss Varian had +recovered herself enough to feel an interest in the paper, while she +felt sure she should have no tidings of St. John's trouble that night. +It was easy to see nothing would be told her till it was officially +discussed, with Missy in council, and till it was decided how much and +what she was to hear. So she resolved to revenge herself by keeping +Missy out of it as long as she could. The paper, to the last personal, +had to be read. And then she found it necessary to have two or three +notes written. Goneril was no scribe, so Missy was always expected to +write her notes for her, which she always did, filled with a proud +consciousness of being pretty good to do it, for somebody who wasn't her +aunt, and who was her enemy. Aunt Harriet had always a good many notes +to write; she never could get over the habit of wanting things her own +way, and to have your own way, even about the covering of a footstool, +requires sometimes the writing of a good many little notes; the looking +up of a good many addresses, the putting on of a good many stamps, the +sending a good many times to the post-office. All these things Missy +generally did with outward precision and perfection. But to-night her +hand shook, her mind wandered, she made mighty errors, and blotted and +crossed out and misdirected like an ordinary mortal in a state of +agitation. It was not lost upon Miss Varian, who heard the pen +scratching through a dozen words at a time. + +"Anything but an erasure in writing to such a person as Mrs. Olor, and +particularly about a matter such as this. If you can't put your mind on +it to-night, I'd rather you'd leave it till to-morrow." + +"I haven't found any difficulty in putting my mind on it," said Missy. +"If you could give me a lucid sentence, I think I could write it out. I +believe I have done it before." So she tore up the letter, her cheeks +burning, and began a fresh one. + +All this time she listened for the sounds overhead. Sometimes it would +be silent, of course they could not hear the sound of voices--sometimes +for five minutes together there would be the sound of St. John's tread +as he walked backward and forward the length of the room. Eleven o'clock +came. + +"I am going to bed," said Missy, pushing away the writing things. "I +will finish your business in the morning. Shall I ring for Goneril?" + +While Goneril was coming, Missy put out the lamp, and gathered up her +books. When she had gone up and shut herself into her room, she began to +cry. The two hours' strain upon her nerves, in keeping up before Miss +Varian, had been great; then the suspense and pity for St. John; and not +least, the feeling that she was forgotten and outside of all he +suffered, and her mother knew. Mamma could have called me, even if St. +John had not remembered, she thought bitterly. By and bye she heard her +mother's door open and her brother's step cross the hall, and stealing +out she looked after him down the stairs. He walked once or twice up and +down the lower hall, then taking up his hat, went out, and she heard his +step on the gravel walk that led down to the beach gate. Then she felt a +great longing to go into her mother's room, and hear all. But an +obstinate jealous pride kept her back. She lingered near the open door +of her room till Anne the maid went into her mother's room, and after a +few moments came out. + +"Did mamma ask for me?" she said, as the woman passed her door. + +"No, miss. She told me she did not want anything, that I was to leave +the light, and that all were to go to bed." + +Then Missy shut her door, and dried her tears, or rather they dried away +before the hot fire of her hurt feelings. St. John's trouble, whatever +it was, began to grow less to her. At least he had his mother, if he +had lost his love; and mother to her had always been more than any love. +And then, he had had the fulness of life, he had had an experience; he +had lived more than she had, though he was but twenty, and she was +twenty-seven. She was angry, humbled, wounded. Poor Missy; and then she +hated herself for it, and knew that she ought to be crying for St. John, +instead of envying him his mother's heart. It is detestable to find +yourself falling below the occasion, and Missy knew that was just what +she was doing. She was thinking about herself and her own wounds and +wants, and she should have been filled with the sorrow of her brother. +Well, so she would have been if he had asked her. She was sure she would +have given him her whole heart, if he had wanted it. This was destined +to be a night of suspenses. Missy undressed herself, and put on a +wrapper, and said her very tumultuous and fragmentary evening prayers, +and read a chapter in one or two good books, without the least +understanding, and then put her light behind a screen in the corner, and +went to the window, and began to wonder why St. John did not come back. +The night was clear and starlight, but there was no moon, and it looked +dark as she gazed out. She could see a light or two twinkling out on the +bay, at the mast of some sloop or yacht. An hour passed. She walked +about her room, in growing uneasiness, and opened her door softly, +wondering if her mother shared her watch, and with what feelings. +Another half hour, and it truly seemed to her, unused to such +excitements, that she could bear it no longer. Where could he be, what +could it mean? All the jealousy was over before this time, and she +would have gone quickly enough to her mother, but that the silence in +her room, made her fear to disturb her, and to give her a sleepless +night. At last, just as the hands of her little watch reached two, she +heard a movement of the latch of the beach gate, and her brother's step +coming up the path. She flew down to the door of the summer parlor and +opened it for him. There was only a faint light coming from the hall. He +did not speak, and she followed him across the parlor, into the hall. +"Where have you been?" she said humbly, "I have been so worried." + +But when she got into the hall under the light, she uttered a little +scream, "St. John! You are all wet, look at your feet." + +The polished floor was marked with every step. + +"It is nothing," he said hoarsely, going towards the stairs. + +"Is mamma's light burning?" + +"You are not going to mamma's room," said Missy, earnestly, "at this +hour of the night? You might make her very ill. I think you are very +inconsiderate." + +There came into his eyes for a moment a hungry, evil look. He looked at +Missy as if he could have killed her. + +"Then tell her why I didn't come," he said in an unnatural voice, taking +a candle from her hand, and going up the stairs, shut himself into his +own room. + +Poor Missy was frightened. She wished she had let him go to his mother; +as the light of the lamp fell on his face, it was dreadful. His clear +blue eyes, with their dark lashes, had always looked at her with +feelings that she could interpret. She had seen him angry--a +short-lived, sudden anger, that had melted while you looked, but never +malicious; but this was malice, despair. The habitual expression of his +eye was soft, happy, bright; a good nature looking out. She did not +think he had lost his mind; she only thought he might be losing his +soul. His eyes were bloodshot, his face of such a dreadful color. + +"This is trouble," she said to herself, as with trembling hands she put +out the light, and went up the dark staircase. At her mother's door she +paused and listened, and a voice within called her. How gladly she heard +it! She went in, longing to throw herself into her mother's arms and cry +what is it? But she controlled herself, and went softly to the sofa +where her mother lay, still undressed, the lamp burning on the table +beside her, her eyes shining with an unusual lustre. + +"I didn't know you were awake," said Missy, sitting down on an ottoman +by the fire. "Your room is cold," and she pulled together the embers, +and put on a stick or two of wood, her teeth chattering. She knew quite +well it wasn't the cold that made them chatter. + +"Where is St. John?" said her mother. + +"He has just come in," returned Missy, looking furtively at her--"and +has gone to bed." + +"Why didn't he come in to me?" asked Mrs. Varian, anxiously. + +"Because I thought that it--it was so late--you ought not to be kept +awake so long." + +"Did you tell him not to come?" + +"Well, yes." + +Mrs. Varian sighed. "It would have been better not," she said. + +Missy turned her face to the fire, which was beginning to blaze, and +stretched out her hands to it. "Well, mamma," she said a little +querulously, after several moments of silence, "I suppose you don't +think that I care anything about St. John's trouble. I should think you +might tell me without being asked to." + +"O my child!" exclaimed her mother. "Forgive me. I have been so absorbed +in him." + +"O, I know that," retorted Missy, crying a little. "That isn't what I +want to know." + +"It won't take long to tell you. The girl to whom he was engaged, has +fled from him and from her mother, and last night was married privately +to a man for whom, it seems, she has long had a passion." + +"Then why did she ever engage herself to St. John?" cried Missy, turning +her pale and excited face towards her mother. + +"I suppose it was the mother's work. The mother must be unscrupulous and +daring. No doubt she worked hard for such a prize as St. John, and she +found him easy prey, poor boy. Easier to manage than her daughter, whose +passions are strong, and whose will is undisciplined. The girl could not +conquer the thought of the old lover, though she had dissembled cruelly. +I think she is but little to be preferred to her mother, inasmuch as her +intention was the same; she meant to sacrifice St. John, and to satisfy +her ambition. Only at the last moment, her passion conquered, and she +broke faith both with her mother and him. O Missy, what wicked, wicked +lives! Does it seem possible that there can be such women living?" + +"I thank them from the bottom of my heart," said Missy, from between her +set teeth. + +"Yes," said her mother with a sigh. "It is right to feel that, I know. +But oh, my boy; it is so hard to see him suffer. To have loved so, and +been so duped. And he cannot, in his disgust and revulsion, conquer his +great love for her. He is writhing in such pangs of jealousy. Think, +last night this time he was dreaming happy dreams about her, as foolish +and as fond as boy could be. To-night, she is in the arms of +another--separated from him forever--leaving him with mockery and +coldness, without a word of penitence or supplication. She flung him off +as if she had disdained and loathed him." + +"How did it come out--how did he hear it first?" + +"This morning, he went for her to drive. They were to have had a very +happy day. St. John, you know, is so nice and thoughtful about planning +pleasures and expeditions. I think he must have had an insight into +their characters, though he was so blinded. First, they were to go to +see some pictures, then to the Park for an hour or two, then to +Delmonico's for an early dinner; then to do some shopping before coming +to the cars. The shopping meant letting her choose all sorts of +expensive things to wear, to which she was unaccustomed, while he paid +the bills. Poor boy, think of that not opening his eyes. I asked if she +never remonstrated, 'Yes, a little perhaps, at first.' Well, they were +to have had this perfect day; and St. John mounted the stairs to their +apartment without a misgiving. + +"The moment the door was opened he felt what was coming. The room was in +confusion; the mother, wild and dishevelled, turned from him with a +shriek. It took but a moment, but it was a horrible moment, to persuade +her to tell him the truth. + +"'Yes,' she cried, with a sudden impulse--perhaps it was the first +honest word she had ever spoken to the poor boy--'Yes, you shall know +everything. You shall know all that I know. There is no good in keeping +things back now. She has gone; she is a deceitful, bad girl. She has +left me to poverty and you to misery. She has gone off with a wicked +man, a man who destroyed her sister, and left her, but whom she has +always loved. She has broken her promise to me--she has deceived me, she +has ruined me. What shall I do! how shall I pay her bills! I shall have +to hide myself; and I thought I had got through with being poor! She +promised me, she promised me to bear with you and to carry this out. +Everything hung upon it, every one was waiting--the landlord, the grocer +even knew that she was going to make a fine match, and they were +waiting. I had to explain it all to them. You can't think how like +heaven it seemed to have a prospect of easy times. I have had a hard +life, a hard life, ever since I can remember. How I have worked for that +girl, and for her sister before her--what sacrifices I have made! You +can't think, a man can't know. I really enjoy telling the truth; it's +such a long time since I've done it. Making the best of things--making +out that things were one way with us when they were another--telling +lies to every body--almost to each other! Oh, what shall I do without +her! I don't know where to go or which way to turn! She is a wicked girl +to have served me such a trick. She will be come up with yet. She will +hate that man--hate him worse than she hated you. Nobody could say you +were not sweet and nice to every one, even if you were too young. And +he--he is an evil, deep, bad man. He will break her heart for her, as he +broke her sister's. And he hasn't got a penny. And she, oh! she has a +fury of a temper, and she must have her own way if she dies for it. +Well, she's got it, and I almost hope she will be punished. I'd like to +see her poor as poverty, and come begging to the door.' + +"And so on, Missy, in her wretched, selfish moan of disappointed greed, +while the poor boy stood stunned and almost stupefied. It did not seem +to him at all real or true; he felt as if he must wake up from it; for +the girl had been a good actress; and the mother, though he had always +felt a little uncomfortable with her, had simulated the manners of a +lady, and his refined tastes never had been shocked; at least never with +force enough to break the spell of the daughter's influence. Fancy what +this revelation was to him; the woman, in her transport of anger, and in +her despair of further help from him, tearing away their flimsy +hypocrisies, and revealing their disgusting meanness. It all seemed +hideous raving to St. John, till she thrust into his hand the letter +that the girl had left. Then the sight of the handwriting that had +always given him such emotions, and the cruel words, made an end of his +dream, and he was quite awake." + +"What did she write?" asked Missy. + +"That he has not told me. He cannot seem to bring himself to speak the +words. But I gather from him, it was a vehement protestation of what she +felt for her old lover, and the contempt in which she held the poor boy, +and perhaps some rude defiance of her mother. St. John, I think, could +hardly have spoken many words during the interview. He emptied his +pockets, poor boy, and left the wretched woman silent with amazement. +She may well have repented of her reckless speech--how much she might +have got out of him, if she had still played the hypocrite. He came down +the stairs which half an hour before he had mounted, weak, like a person +after months of illness. When he got into the carriage, his eyes fell on +some lovely flowers which he had brought for her, and the sight and +scent of them seemed to make clear the horrible reality. I think he +really cannot tell what he did with the rest of the day. He told the man +to drive to the Park, and there he wandered about, no doubt, for hours. +I am sure he has not tasted food since morning. It must result in a +terrible illness. How did he look, Missy, when he came in from the +beach?" + +Missy evaded; and her heart smote her that she had not brought the poor +boy to his mother, instead of turning him away from the only chance of +comfort. "Shall I go and see?" she said. And going softly into the hall, +she stood outside the door of his room and listened. "It is all quiet," +she said, coming back. "Perhaps he has fallen asleep. He looked utterly +worn out when he came in." Then she crept up beside her mother, and +pulling a shawl about her, they sat talking, hand in hand, till the +stars grew pale, and the chilly dawn broke. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE FIRST SERMON. + + +It was Sunday afternoon, a year and a half after this, and St. John had +just been preaching his first sermon. Missy's dream of happiness was +realized, and her brother was called to Yellowcoats parish--called +before he was ordained; and for three months the parish had been waiting +patiently for that event, and living upon "supplies." St. John had not +wished to come to Yellowcoats, his mother had not wholly desired it, but +the fire and force of Missy's will had conquered, and here he was. + +"I think it's a mistake," St. John had said. "Half the congregation will +think I ought to be playing marbles yet, and wearing knickerbockers. +Besides, it isn't the kind of work I want." + +Then his mother had admitted, that it would be a great happiness to have +him with her; and Missy had presented to his conscience, in many forms, +that place and surroundings were indications of duty. It was not for +nothing that he had been born and brought up at Yellowcoats; that there +he had family influence, and knowledge of the people with whom he was to +deal. Was it not his home? Did he owe any other place as much? And was +it nothing that a vacancy had occurred just as he was ready to come? + +"All the same, I doubt if it is well," he said, and came; for he was +young and not self-willed, and the kind of work he wanted had not come +before him. He consented to come and try. "But remember, Missy, I do not +promise you to stay." + +Upon one thing he was firm, he would not live at home. The rectory was +in tolerable order, and there he was to live, with one servant. He never +would be happy unless he were uncomfortable, said his sister; +nevertheless, she liked him better for it. + +St. John was changed, very deeply changed, since that October night, a +year and a half ago; but he had come to be again sweet-natured and +natural, and they loved him more than ever at home. He had grown silent, +and never got back his young looks again. He had thrown himself into his +studies with great earnestness, and had worked, perhaps, more than was +quite wise. Lent was just over, and his ordination; and he was naturally +a little wan and weary from it; but after preaching that first sermon, +there was a flush upon his cheek. The bishop had been there in the +morning, and had preached; in the afternoon, he had had no one with him, +and had taken all the duty. He was alone with his people, and was fairly +launched. It had been well known that he was going to preach, and the +church was very full. Perhaps speculation about the knickerbockers and +the marbles had brought some. Perhaps affection and real interest in +their young townsman had brought others. All the "denominations" were +amply represented, and all the young women of the village who had smart +spring bonnets, wore them, and came with their young men. In short, it +was more like a funeral than an ordinary afternoon service; for a +funeral in Yellowcoats was an improved occasion always. The church +building was a very poor affair, shabby in detail as well as ungainly in +plan, but it was well situated, in the midst of shade, with an old +graveyard on one side, and the road that led to the door of the rectory, +fifty feet back, on the other, and beyond some green grass and trees +there were sheds for horses. The windows were of clear diamond-shaped +glass, so that when the rattling old shades were rolled up, one saw +lovely glimpses of the bay, and some green fields, and nearer, the +delicate young green of the locust trees that stood thick in the +inclosure. One could always look heaven-ward and sea-ward out of the +windows of Yellowcoats church, and that was the only advantage it +presented as a building. + +Lent had come late that year; and the spring had come early. The air was +soft and sweet, the verdure more advanced than is usual for the last of +April. The earth was still sodden and wet, though the spring sun was +shining warmly on it. The crocuses were peeping up about the stones of +the foundation, and in the grass the Star of Bethlehem and the +periwinkle were in blossom. The locusts, with their thin, high-up +foliage, were just a faint green, their rough bark rusty from the +winter's storms. + +It is rather an ordeal to hear one's brother preach his first sermon, +particularly if he is a younger brother, and one has more solicitude for +his success, than confidence in it. Missy's heart beat furiously while +he said the prayers--she very much wished he hadn't come to Yellowcoats. +His voice soothed her; there was no indication in it that his heart was +beating with irregularity. But then would dart in the thought of the +coming sermon, and the trepidation would return. There was one thing to +be thankful for, and that was, that mamma was not there. And when the +sermon came, she scarcely heard the text; it was several minutes before +she heard anything. By and by she got steadied by something in his voice +and manner, not probably in the words. And after that, she renounced +solicitude and assumed confidence. Yes, she need not be afraid for St. +John. Though there was nothing wonderful in the sermon. The congregation +had heard many a better, probably. But while it was simple, it was not +trite. It was thought out, and definite, and well-expressed. The Rev. +Dr. Platitude would have made three out of it, and thought himself +extravagant. But what was it that held the people so silent, that made +them follow him so? For Missy would have heard a leaf turned six pews +off; would have felt it through and through her if a distant neighbor +had even buttoned up her glove. No; nobody was turning pages, or +buttoning gloves, or thinking of spring bonnets. St. John had them in +his hand; they were his while he chose to hold them. There was an utter +simplicity about him; an absence of speculation about himself. Missy +looked at him and wondered if it were indeed her brother. There was a +deep light in his eyes, that one sometimes sees in blue eyes; there was +a faint flush on his cheek; there was a steady look about his mouth. It +began to dawn on Missy that he was going to be one of those men who are +to preach from their hearts as well as from their brains; who are to +bring out from their own soul's labor, food for the hungry souls about +them. She began to feel that St. John's sermon had come somehow from the +weary Lent that was just ended; from the hard pressure of the past +eighteen months; from the cruel wound that had seemed to find his very +life. But what were the people crying about? Heaven knows. For they had +heard many sermons before, and been like the pebbles on the shore for +hardness and rattling indifference. And they did cry, though St. John +did not; but his eyes were deep and earnest. + +"Mamma," exclaimed Missy, throwing herself down by her mother's sofa, +and hiding her face on her shoulder--"it was like Paradise--all the +people cried." + +"I didn't suppose they did that in Paradise." + +"Oh, you know what I mean. It was like Paradise to me to see them cry. +At any rate, you needn't have any fear about St. John." + +"I never had any fear of him, that way," said the mother, quietly. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE PEOPLE NEXT DOOR. + + +It was a lovely July afternoon, and at five o'clock Missy had taken her +work and a book down to the beach-gate, and sat there rather idly +reading, while the tide, which was only a few feet away from her, was +breaking on the pebbles with a sound that is dead against serious mental +application. There was a drowsy hum of insects in the air, a faint +whispering in the trees overhead. She took off the light hat that shaded +her face, and threw it on the grass, and leaning back in the high-backed +cane chair, thought what a comfort not to be in a hurry about anything. +She was delicately and coolly dressed, just fresh from a bath and a +sleep. Life seemed luxurious at that moment. She watched a sail-boat, +almost as idle as she was herself, lolling across the bay, the faint +west wind coming in light puffs that gave it but little impetus. +Presently the plash of oars aroused her, and turning her head she saw +St. John pulling up to the beach. + +"Ah, that's nice!" she cried. "You've come to tea." + +"Well, yes, but it is not tea time yet." + +"Not for an hour and a half. This is very self-indulgent, coming home to +tea twice in one week. I am afraid Bridget hasn't got the receipt for +muffins quite through her head yet." + +"Yes, Bridget does very well. I wish every one did as well as Bridget. +Myself, for instance." + +"Oh, nonsense; now you're moping again." + +"No, I am not. Nothing as excusable as that. But I'm lazy. How can any +one keep from getting that in this place, I should like to know?" + +"I don't know why this place must bear the blame of all one's moods," +said Missy, much annoyed. "_I_ don't get lazy here." + +"But you see I do." + +"Maybe you'd do that anywhere." + +"I'll put myself where I sha'n't have any more chance to be lazy than a +car horse; where it won't be a question of whether I want to go or not. +I gave you fair warning, Missy; I told you this wasn't the life for me." + +"Well, if you want to make me perfectly wretched--" said Missy, throwing +down her book. + +St. John had come up from the beach, and had thrown himself on the +grass, with his hands clasped under his head, his hat lying beside him. + +"I won't talk of it if it makes you wretched. Only you mustn't be +surprised when I decide upon anything you don't like." + +"I'd rather be surprised once than worried out of my life all the time." + +"Very well, it's agreed." And St. John was silent, which Missy did not +mean him to be. She wanted to argue with him about his restlessness. + +"Such a good work as you are doing," she said. "Think what every one +says about you." + +"I don't want to think about it, if you please." + +"Think of all those Rogers children being baptised, and of old Hillyard +coming into the church. I should as soon have thought of Ship Point Rock +melting as his hard heart. Nobody ever heard of anything more wonderful. +And the repairs of the church; how the people are giving. Think what it +will be to see a recess chancel, and stalls, and a real altar." + +"Yes," said her brother, with a sigh, "that will be very nice. But it +will come on now anyway. Anybody can do it." + +"Oh, St. John, you dishearten me. Already you want to do 'some great +thing.' Isn't that a bad sign, for so young a man?" + +He was silent. + +"I wish," she said, with a shade of impatience, "I wish you'd tell me, +if you don't mind, what sort of work you want to do? What sort of +people, pray, do you want to have the charge of?" + +"I like wicked people," he said, very quietly. + +"You--St. John! Fie. What do you know about wickedness?" + +"More than you think, perhaps," he said uneasily, getting up, and +turning his back upon the blue water. "Come, we won't talk about this +any more. What have you been doing since Tuesday, and how is mamma?" + +"Mamma is as usual; we haven't done anything of interest. Oh, yes. I +went to call on the new people next door; and we are much interested in +making out what and who they are. I was not admitted. Madame is an +invalid, I believe, and rarely sees any one. The children are queer +little things, the girl a beauty. I see them often peeping through the +hedge." + +"How about the gentleman? have you seen him?" + +"No; the Olors know him slightly and say he's nice. The wife seems to be +a mystery. No one knows anything about her. I am quite curious. They +have lived several years abroad, and do not seem to have many ties here. +At least no one seems to know much of them, in the city." + +"I hope they're church people?" + +"I don't know, indeed. I should not think it likely. The children have +an elfish, untamed look, and there is such a troop of foreign-looking +servants. What they need of all those people to keep such a plain, small +house going, I can't imagine. I have no doubt they will demoralize our +women. Two nurses do nothing but sit on the beach all day, and look at +the two children who dig in the sand. The coachman never seems to do +anything but smoke his pipe from the time of taking his master to the +cars in the morning till the time of going for him in the evening. They +have a man-waiter. I cannot think what for. He and the cook and the maid +all seem to be French, and spend much of their morning in the +boat-house. We have the 'Fille de Mme. Angot,' and odors of cheap cigars +across the hedge. It isn't pleasant." + +"How you do long to reconstruct that household!" + +"In self-defense. I shouldn't wonder if we had to change every servant +in our house before the summer is over. Even Goneril does nothing but +furtively watch them from the upper windows and make reflections upon +the easy times they have." + +At this moment there was a splash in the water, and a cry. They had been +sitting with their backs to the shell which St. John had left below on +the beach, and a boy of five, the new neighbors' boy, had climbed into +it, and, quite naturally, tumbled out of it. St. John vaulted over the +fence, took two or three strides into the water, and picked him out. + +"Heigho, young man, what would you have done if I hadn't been here?" he +said, landing him dripping on the beach. + +"Let me alone, will you!" cried the sturdy fellow, showing his gratitude +and his shocked nerves by kicking at his benefactor. He did not cry, but +he swelled with his efforts to keep from it. + +"Of course I will," said his preserver mildly, looking down at him. "But +I'd like to know what's become of your nurse. Where is she?" + +"None of you's business," returned this sweet child, putting down his +head. He was a dear little fellow, sturdy and well built, with stout +bare legs, and tawny hair, banged on the forehead, and long and wavy +behind. He had clear blue eyes, and a very tanned skin and very +irregular features. He spoke with an accent of mixed Irish and French. + +"I'm very sorry about it," said St. John, gently, "but I'm afraid you'll +get cold. Better tell me where to find the nurse." + +"None of you's business," returned the boy. + +"There she is," said Missy in a low voice, "ever so far beyond the +steamboat landing, with the waiter. See if you can make them hear." + +St. John put his hand to his mouth and called. But alas! they were too +deeply engrossed for such a sound to reach them. + +"The child will get a horrid cold," said Missy, "it won't do to wait. +I'll take him up to the house, and send one of the servants home with +him." + +But Missy reckoned without her host; this latter declined to go to "her +house," and planted his feet firmly in the sand. + +"You'll have to carry him," she intimated _sotto voce_ to her brother. +Then he hit from the shoulder, and it was well seen that was not a thing +that could be done. The shock to his nerves and the bath had already +resulted in making his lips blue. The water was dripping from his hair +to his neck, and it was fair to suppose he felt a little chilly, as the +breeze was increasing a trifle. + +"I'll tell you," said Missy, cheerfully. "You shall take me to your +house, if you won't go to mine. I don't know the way, but I suppose you +do. Through the boat-house?" + +The boy lifted his eyes doubtfully to see if she were in good faith, +glowered at St. John, and after a moment made a step towards the +boat-house. + +"What a nice boat-house you've got," said Missy, walking on in front of +him. "I wish we had as big a one." + +"Got my things in it," said the child, and then, frightened at his own +part in the conversation, put down his head and was silent. + +"Do you keep your toys here? Why, how nice!" exclaimed Missy, pausing at +the door. "Why, what a nice room, and here's a baby-house. Pray whose is +that?" + +"That's Gabby's, and that's mine--and this is my wheelbarrow--and that's +her hoop--" And so on, through a catalogue of playthings that would have +set up a juvenile asylum. + +"I never saw so many playthings," said Missy, getting hold of his hand +in a moment of enthusiasm over a new velocipede. "Have you got any more +up at the house?" + +"Lots," said the boy, succinctly. + +"Won't you take me to see them?" And so, hand in hand, they set off, St. +John watching them from the door of the boat-house with amusement. + +Before they reached the house, Missy began to have some misgivings about +the proceeding. She did not enjoy the idea of taking the enemy in the +rear. What sort of people were they, and how would they like the liberty +of having her enter from the beach? Some people do not like to be +indebted to their neighbors for saving their children's lives. It's all +a matter of temperament, education--and they might not like the +precedent. She wished she might find a servant to whose care to commit +him, and herself steal out the way she had come in. But, though there +had seemed to be nothing but servants visible every time she had passed +the house, or looked over at it from the upper windows, there were none +to be found to-day. The place was as silent as if no one lived in it. +She paused at the kitchen door, and called faintly, and told the boy to +call, which he did with a good courage. But no response. Then they went +around to the front piazza, and the boy, Jay, he said his name was, +strutted up and down it, and declined to go in, or to go up stairs. He +was getting bluer about the lips, and she knew he must not be left. So +she rang the bell, several times, with proper intervals, but there was +no answer. At last she went into the hall, and taking a shawl she found +there, wrapped it around the child. + +"Play you were a Highland Chief," she said, and he submitted. + +She rang once more, and then followed the tugging of Jay's hand through +the hall into the dining-room. There the table was laid, quite in state, +for one. From the adjacent kitchen came an odor of soup, which was very +good, but there was no living thing visible in it but a big dog, who +thumped his tail hard on the floor. Then they went back into the hall, +and over the stairs came a voice, rather querulous: + +"Vell, vot is it--_Vite_? Vhere are all se servants?" Then, seeing a +lady, the maid came down a few steps and apologized. Missy led up the +child and explained the condition of affairs. Jay began to frown, and +fret and pull away, as soon as she approached him. It was clear +Alphonsine was not one of his affinities. She was a coffee-colored +Frenchwoman, with a good accent and a bad temper, and had been asleep +when the sixth ring of the bell had reached her. Missy began to be +pretty sick of the whole business, and to wish to be out of it. So, +rather peremptorily advising her to change the child's clothes and rub +him well, she started to go away, boldly departing by the front gate, +which was not a stone's throw from their own entrance. But she had +barely reached the gate when the French woman came running after her, +with a most voluble apology, and a message from Madame, that if it would +not be asking too much of the young lady, would she kindly come back for +a moment and allow Madame to express to her her thanks for her great +goodness? The woman explained that her mistress was an invalid, and put +the matter in such a light that there was no chance of refusing to go +back, which was what Missy would very much have liked to do. The whole +thing seemed awkward and uncomfortable, and she turned back feeling as +little inclined to be gracious as possible. + +The woman led the way up the stairs, at the head of which stood Jay, his +teeth now chattering. + +"Pray get his wet clothes off!" she said to the woman. "I'll find my +way, if you'll point out the door." + +The woman was not much pleased with this, and showed it by preceding her +to the door, and watching her well into the room before she turned to +push the unwilling Jay into the nursery, and with deliberation, not to +say sullenness, take off his dripping clothes. + +Missy found herself in a pretty room, rather warm, and rather dark, and +rather close with foreign-smelling toilet odors. Before she had seen or +spoken to the lady on the sofa, she had felt a strong inclination to +push open the windows, and let in the glory of the sinking western sun, +and the fresh breeze of evening. She felt a healthy revolt from the rich +smells and the dim light. A soft voice spoke to her from the sofa, and +then, as she came nearer, she saw the loveliest creature! Like all +plain women, she had an enthusiasm for beauty in her own sex. She almost +forgot to speak, she was so enchanted with the face before her. It was, +indeed, beautiful; rare, dark eyes, perfect features, skin of a lovely +tint. Missy was so dazzled by the sight she hardly knew whether she were +attracted or not. The lady's voice was low and musical. Missy did not +know whether she liked the voice or not. She could only listen and +wonder. It was an experience--something new come into her life. She +felt, in an odd sort of way, how small her knowledge of people was; how +much existed from which she had been shut out. + +"I've lived among people just like myself all my life; it's +contemptible," she thought. "No wonder I am narrow. A woman lives such a +stupid life at home." + +She sat down and talked with Mrs. Andrews. Mrs. Andrews! What a prosaic +name for this exotic plant; as if one called a _Fritallaria Imperialis_ +a potato. She began to wonder about Mr. Andrews. What was he? Why had no +one told her these people were remarkable? She almost forgot to answer +questions, and bear her part in the conversation. She did not yet know +whether she admired or not. She only knew she was near a person who had +lived a different life from hers; who had a history; who probably didn't +think as she did on any one subject; who was entering from a side door, +the existence of which she had not guessed, upon a scene which had +seemed to belong to Missy and her sort alone. From what realms did she +come? In what school had she been taught? She could not make her out, +while she was being thanked for bringing Jay home. There was a languor +about her manner of speaking of the little boy, which did not satisfy +Missy, used to mammas who lived for their children, and considered it +the pride and glory of life to know nothing beyond the nursery. This was +the first mother who had ever dared to be languid about her children on +Missy's small stage. She did not understand, and perhaps showed her +perplexity, for her new acquaintance, with a faint sigh, said: "Poor +little Jay; he is so strong and vehement, so alien. I believe he +terrifies me. I think it must be because I am weak." + +"I never liked a child so much; he is a little man," said Missy, warmly. + +"Ah, yes! you are well and strong; you are in sympathy with him--but +I--ah, well, I hope, Miss Rothermel, you will never have to feel +yourself useless and a burden." + +"I hope not, I am sure," said Missy honestly, feeling a little hurt on +Jay's account, but still a great deal of pity for the soft voiced +invalid. "Mamma could understand you better. She has been ill many +years." + +"Ah, the dear lady! I wish that I might know her. But with her it is +different in a way. She perhaps is used to it, if ever one can be used +to misery. But for me it is newer, I suppose, and, when young, one looks +for pleasure, just a little." + +Missy colored; she had forgotten that her mother could seem old to any +one, and then she saw how very young her companion really was--younger +than herself, no doubt. + +"It is very hard," she said. "Can't you interest yourself in the +children at all? They would be such a diversion if you could." + +"My little Gabrielle, yes. But Jay is--so different, you know--so noisy; +I believe he makes me ill every time he comes near me." + +"Gabrielle looks like you," said Missy. "I have seen her on the beach +sometimes." + +Then the beautiful eyes lighted up, and Missy began to be enchanted. She +did not know that she had produced the illumination, and that the +beautiful creature was made happy by an opportunity to talk about +herself. She gradually--sweetly slid into it, and Missy was wrapt in +admiration. Her companion talked well about herself, _con amore_, but +delicately and like a true artist. A beautiful picture was growing up +before Missy. She would have been at a loss to say who painted it. She +did not even think her egotistic, though she would have pardoned egotism +in one who seemed so much better worth talking of than ordinary people. +Her loneliness, her suffering, her youth, her exile from her own people, +her uncongenial surroundings--how had Missy learned so much in one-half +hour? And yet Mrs. Andrews had not seemed to talk about herself. It was +sketchy; but Missy was imaginative, and when a carriage driving to the +gate made her start up, she was surprised to find it was half an hour +instead of half a life-time since she had come into the room. + +"It is Mr. Andrews," she said, glancing from the window, "and I must +go." + +"Don't!" said the invalid, earnestly. + +"O, it would be better," said Missy, "it is so awkward. I know husbands +hate to find tiresome friends always in their wives' rooms when they +come home." + +"Yes, perhaps so, when they come to their wives' rooms when they get +home." + +There was a slight distension of the nostril and a slight compression of +the lips when this was said. Missy flushed between embarrassment and +indignation. Was it possible that Mr. Andrews was a brute, and was not +at this moment on the stairs on his way to this lonely lovely sufferer? + +Mrs. Andrews did not want her to go--she stayed at least ten minutes, +standing ready to depart. As she went down the stairs, the servant +passed through the hall, and she heard him announce dinner to his +master, who promptly came in from the piazza, by which means, he and +Missy were brought face to face in the hall near the dining-room door. +Mr. Andrews probably felt, but did not express any astonishment at +seeing a strange young lady in white muslin, without even the +conventionality of a hat upon her head, walking about his temporary +castle; he merely bowed, and, being very hungry, went into the +dining-room to get his dinner. As for Missy, she felt it was very +awkward, and she was also full of resentment. She inclined her head in +the slightest manner, and only glanced at him to see whether he was +remarkable-looking, and whether he had any right to be a tyrant and a +brute. It takes a very handsome man to have any such right as that, and +Mr. Andrews was by no means handsome. He was not tall--rather a short +man, and almost a stout man. Not that exactly, but still not as slight +as he ought to have been for his height. He was not young +either--certainly forty possibly more. He had blue eyes, and hair and +whiskers of light brown. The expression of his face was rather stern. He +was evidently thinking of something that gave him no pleasure when he +looked up and saw Missy, and there was perhaps nothing in the sight of +her that induced him to cast the shadow from his brow. So she did not +see that he had a good smile, and that his eyes were particularly +intelligent and keen. She hurried past him with the settled belief that +he was a monster of cruelty; the odor of the soup, which was +particularly good, and the sound of the chair upon the floor as it was +pushed up before the lonely table, and the clinking of a glass were +added touches to the dark picture. + +"I suppose he hasn't given her a thought," she said to herself, as the +gate shut after her. "Dinner, imagine it, comes first. He looks like a +gourmand; he _is_ a gourmand, I am sure. That soup was perfectly +delicious; I wish I had the receipt for it. But he is worse than a +gourmand. Gourmands are often good-natured. He is a tyrant, and I hate +him. Think of the misery of that poor young thing! How could she have +married him? I would give worlds to know her history. _He_ isn't capable +of a history. I suppose she must have been very poor, and forced into +the marriage by her parents. Nothing else can account for such a +_mésalliance_." + +When she entered the parlor, St. John was sitting by his mother's sofa. +"How is our young friend?" he said. "Remember I saved his life; so don't +put on any airs because you got him to go home." + +"It was a great deal harder work," said Missy; "and you like hard work, +you say. But, mamma, I have seen her, and she is the loveliest +creature--Mrs. Andrews, I mean! She is confined to her room--never +leaves it--a hopeless invalid. And he is a brute, an utter brute! I can +hardly find words to describe him. He is short and stout, and has a most +sinister expression. And now think of this--listen to what I say: _He +went in to dinner, without going up to her room at all!_ Can you think +of anything more heartless?" + +"Oh, yes," said St. John, commonplacely; "not sending her up any dinner +would have been worse--not paying her bills--not taking her to the +country." + +Missy scorned to reply to him, but directed her conversation to her +mother. "Her beauty is very remarkable, and she seems so young. The man +is certainly forty. I really wish I could find out something about them. +She is French, I think, though she speaks without an accent. She is so +different from the people one sees every day; she gives you an idea of a +different life from ours. And for my part, I am glad to see something of +another stratum. Do you know, I think we are very narrow? All women, of +course, are from necessity; but it seems to me I have led a smaller life +than other women." + +"I don't think you need regret it," said her brother, seriously; "it +saves you a great deal." + +"Pray don't say anything, you who like wicked people." + +St. John was "hoist with his own petard." + +"Then you think I might enjoy Mr. and Mrs. Andrews?" he said. + +"Mr. Andrews would satisfy all your aspirations," returned Missy; "but +not his wife, unless it is wicked to be unconventional." + +"But how did you find out she was unhappy; I hope she didn't tell you +so?" asked Mrs. Varian. + +"No, of course she did not! I don't really know how I divined it; but it +was most easy to see. And then he did not come up to see her! is not +that enough?" + +"Perhaps he was hungry--unusually hungry; or perhaps he is a victim to +dyspepsia, and cannot go through any excitement upon an empty stomach. +You know his doctors may have forbidden him." + +"Really, St. John," said Missy, much annoyed, "it is not safe to find +fault with a man in your presence. Your class feeling is so strong, I +think you would defend him if he had two wives." + +"Who knows but that may be the trouble?" he said. "He didn't know which +to go to first, and he may have had to send two dinners up. No wonder +that he has dyspepsia! That being the case--" + +"You are rather illogical for a man. Who said he had dyspepsia? What +does that stand upon? Mamma, I want to have the children in here often. +Jay is a darling, and as to Gabby--" + +"Gabby!" repeated her mother. + +"Gabrielle," said Missy, blushing, and glancing anxiously at her +brother, to see if he were laughing. "It was Jay called her Gabby--a +horrid shortening, certainly. Gabrielle is a lovely name, I think. But +what's the matter, St. John? What have I said now?" + +"Nothing," said her brother, in a forced, changed voice, as he got up +and walked about the room, every sparkle of merriment gone from his +eyes. + +"It is time for tea, is it not?" said Mrs. Varian. + +"Yes, I suppose it is," returned Missy, wearily, getting up and crossing +over to ring the bell, as if tea were one of the boundaries of her +narrow sphere. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +GABBY AND JAY. + + +After that, there were daily visits to Mrs. Andrews, daily messages +passing between the houses, daily hours with Gabby and Jay upon the +beach. It became the most interesting part of Miss Rothermel's life. It +was a romance to her, though she thought she was not romantic. Her dream +was to do good, a great deal of good, to somebody, all the better if she +happened to like the somebody. It was tiresome to do good all the time +to Aunt Harriet, who was all the time there ready to be done good to. It +was not conceivable that mamma could need her very much--mamma, who had +St. John, and who really did not seem an object of compassion at all, +rather some one to go to, to get comforted. She was "a-weary" of the few +poor people of the place. They seemed inexpressibly "narrow" to her now. +She seemed suddenly to have outgrown them. She condemned herself for +the time and thought she had bestowed upon them, when she counted up the +pitiful results. + +"I suppose I have spent a month, and driven forty miles, and talked +volumes, if it were all put together, to get that wretched Burney boy to +go to Sunday school. And what does it amount to, after all, now that he +does go? He carries things in his pockets to eat, and he makes the other +children laugh, and he sits on the gravestones during service, and +whistles loud enough to have to be hunted away by the sexton every +Sunday. No; I shall let him go now; he may come or not, as he sees fit." + +It was certainly much pleasanter to sit on the beach and curl Jay's +tawny hair, and make him pictures on shells, and teach him verses, and +his letters. Gabrielle, with her great dark, side-looking eyes, was not +as congenial to Missy, but even she was more satisfactory than the +Burney boy, with his dirty hands and terrible dialect. Children without +either refinement or innocence are not attractive, and though Missy +feared Gabby was not quite innocent, she had a good deal of refinement +in appearance and manner. She spoke with a slow, soft manner, and never +looked one straight in the eye. She had a passion for jewelry and fine +clothes, and made her way direct to any one who had on a bracelet or +locket of more than ordinary pretension, and hung over it fascinated. It +was sometimes difficult to shake her off, and the questions she asked +were wearisome. Missy's visitors were apt to pet and notice her very +much at first and then to grow very tired of her. She was a picturesque +object, though her face was often dirty, and her hair was always wild. +She wore beautiful clothes, badly put on and in wretched order; +embroidered French muslin dresses with the ruffles scorched and +over-starched; rich Roman scarfs with the fringes full of straws and +sticks; kid boots warped at the heel, and almost buttonless; stockings +faded, darned with an alien color, loose about the ankles. All this was +a trial to Missy, whose love of order and neatness was outraged by the +lovely little slattern. + +For a long while she sewed on furtive buttons, picked clear fringes, +re-instated ruffles, caught up yawning rents. She would reconstruct +Gabby, then catch her in her arms and kiss her, and tell her how much +better she looked when she was neat. Gabby would submit to the caress, +but would give a sidelong glance at Missy's perfect appointments--yawn, +stretch out her arms, make probably a new rent, and tear away across the +lawn to be caught in the first thorn presenting. She was passionately +fond of fine clothes, but she was deeply lazy, and inconsequently +Bohemian. The idea of constraint galled her. She revolted from Missy's +lectures and repairing touches. + +Then Missy tried her 'prentice hand on the faithless servants. The +faithless servants did not take it kindly. They resented her +suggestions, and hated her. + +Then she faintly tried to bring the subject to the notice of the mother. +This was done with many misgivings, and with much difficulty, for it was +not easy to get the conversation turned on duties and possible +failures. Somehow, it was always a very different view the two took of +things, when they had their long talks together. It was always of +herself that Mrs. Andrews talked--always of her sufferings, her wrongs. +When your friend is posturing for a martyr, it is hard to get her into +an attitude of penitence without hurting her feelings. When she is +bewailing the faults of others, it is embarrassing to turn the office +into a confession of her own. Missy entered on her task humbly, knowing +that it would be a hard one. She did not realize why it would be so +hard. She had a romantic pity for her friend. She would not see her +faults. Indeed, any one might have been blinded, who began with a strong +admiration. When a woman is too ill to be talked to about her duties +even, it is hard to expect her to perform them with rigor. When Missy, +baffled and humbled, returned from that unfortunate mission, she +acknowledged to herself she had attempted an impossibility. "She cannot +see, she never has seen--probably she never will be obliged to see, what +neglect her children are suffering from. She is too ill to be able to +take in anything outside her sick room. The cross laid on her requires +all her strength. It is cruelty to ask her to bear anything more. I am +ashamed to have had the thought." So she turned to the poor little +children so sadly orphaned, as it seemed to her, and with tenderness, +tried to lighten their lot, and shield them from the tyrannies and +negligences of their attendants. Little Jay lived at his new friend's +house, ate at her table, almost slept in her bosom. He naturally +preferred this to the cold slatternliness of his own home, and he was +rarely missed or inquired for. + +"He might have been in the bay for the past five hours, for all the +servants know about it," said Mrs. Varian, to whom all this was an +anxiety and depression. "Don't you think, Missy, you give them an excuse +in keeping him here so much? They naturally will say, if anything +happens, they thought he was with you, and that you take him away for +such long drives and walks, they never know where to find him." + +"My dear mamma," cried Missy, "don't you think the wretches would find +an excuse for whatever they did? Is their duplicity to make it right for +me to abandon my poor little man to them?" + +"At least always report it at the house when you take him away for half +a day." + +So after that, Missy was careful to make known her plan at the Andrews' +before she took Jay away for any long excursion. She would stop at the +door in her little pony-carriage, and lifting out Jay, would send him in +to say to a pampered menial at the door, that they need not be uneasy +about him if he did not come back till one or two o'clock. + +"We won't put on mournin' for ye before three, thin, honey," said the +man, on one occasion. Jay didn't understand the meaning of the words, +but he understood the cynical tone, and he kicked the fellow on a +beloved calf. Then the man, enraged, caught him by the arm and held him +off, but he continued to kick and hit from the shoulder with his one +poor little unpinioned arm. The man was white with rage, for Jay was +unpopular, and Miss Rothermel also, and he hated to be held in check by +her presence, and by the puerile fear of losing his place, which her +presence created. + +Now it happened on this pleasant summer morning that Mr. Andrews had not +gone to town, and that he had not gone out on the bay, as was supposed +in the household, the wind having proved capricious. Consequently he was +just entering from the rear of the house, as this pretty tableau was +being presented on the front piazza. When the enraged combatants raised +their eyes, they found Mr. Andrews standing in the hall door, and darkly +regarding them. + +"Papa! kill him!" cried Jay, as the flunky suddenly released him, +dashing at the unprotected calves like a fury. "Kill him for me!" + +"With pleasure," said his father, calmly, "but you let it alone. Come to +the library at ten o'clock, I will see you about this matter," he said +to the man, who slunk away, while Jay came to take his father's +outstretched hand, very red and dishevelled. By this time Missy, much +alarmed, had sprung from the carriage, and ran down the walk, just in +time to confront the father. He was beginning to question the boy, but +turning around faced the young lady unexpectedly, and took off his hat. +Missy looked flushed and as excited as the boy. + +"I hope you won't blame Jay," she said, "for it is safe to say it is the +man's fault. They tease him shamefully, and he is such a little fellow." + +Mr. Andrews' face softened at these words. It was plain she thought he +was severe with his children, but that was lost in the sweetness of +hearing any one plead for his little boy with that intuitive and +irrational tenderness. + +"I want to hit him!" interrupted Jay, doubling up his fist. "I want to +hit him right in his ugly mouth." + +"Hush," said his father, frowning, "little boys must not hit any one, +least of all, their father's servants. You come to me whenever they +trouble you, and I will make it right." + +"You're never here when they do it," said the child. + +"Well, you keep quiet, and then come and tell me when I get home." + +"I forget it then," said Jay, naively. + +"Then I think it can't go very deep," returned his father, smiling. + +"It will go deep enough to spoil his temper utterly, I'm afraid," said +Missy, biting her lips to keep from saying more. + +"I am sorry enough," he began earnestly, but catching sight of her face, +his voice grew more distant. "I suppose it is inevitable," he added +slowly, as Jay, loosing his hold of his father's hand, picked up his +hat, straightened his frock, and went over to Missy's side. + +"I am going to ride with Missy," he said, tugging a little at her dress. +"Come, it's time." + +"Perhaps your father wants you to stay with him, as he isn't often at +home." + +"O no," said Mr. Andrews, as they all walked towards the gate. "Jay is +better off with you, I am afraid, and happier. And I want to thank you, +Miss Rothermel, for your many kindnesses to the children. I assure you, +I--I appreciate them very much." + +"O," cried Missy, stiffly, and putting very sharp needles into her +voice, "there is nothing to thank me for. It is a pleasure to have them +for their own sakes, and everything that I can do to make Mrs. Andrews +more comfortable about them, is an added pleasure." + +Missy knew this was a fib the instant she had uttered it. She knew it +didn't make Mrs. Andrews a straw more comfortable to know the children +were in safe hands; but she wanted to say something to punish this +brutal husband, and this little stab dealt itself, so to speak. She was +very sorry about the fib, but she reflected one must not be too critical +in dealing with brutal husbands if one's motives are right. Mr. Andrews +stiffened too, and his face took a hard and cynical look. + +"Undoubtedly," he said, and then he said no more. Jay held the gate open +for them. + +"Come," he said, "it's time to go." Missy stepped into the low +carriage--disdaining help, and gathered up the reins. Mr. Andrews lifted +Jay into the seat beside her. + +"And I guess I'll stay to dinner with Missy, so you needn't send for +me," said Jay, seating himself comfortably and taking the whip, which +was evidently his prerogative. Nobody could help smiling, even brutal +husbands and people who had been telling fibs. "I haven't heard you +invited," said the representative of the former class. + +"O, Jay knows he is always welcome. I will send him home before evening, +if I may keep him till then." + +Mr. Andrews bowed, and the little carriage rolled away, the child +forgetting to look back at his father, eagerly pleased with the whip and +the drive, and the sunshine and the morning air. Mr. Andrews watched +them out of sight, and as they were lost among the trees in a turn of +the road, he sighed and turned stolidly towards the house. It was a low, +pretty cottage, the piazza was covered with flowering vines, there were +large trees about it--the grass was green and well-kept, a trim hedge +separated it from the Varian place; at the rear, beyond the garden, was +the boat-house and then a low fence that ran along the yellow beach. The +water sparkled clear and blue; what a morning it was; and what a +peaceful, pretty attractive little home it looked. People passing along +the road might well gaze at it with envy, and imagine it the "haunt of +all affections pure." This thought passed through Mr. Andrews' mind, as +he walked from the gate. It made his face a little harder than usual, +and it was usually hard enough. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A PASSING SOUL. + + +It was six weeks after this; life had been going on with little change, +when one morning Missy drew the reins of her brown horse before the +Rectory gate, and hurriedly springing out, ran down the path, leaving +the carriage at the roadside. She had a vail tied close across her +face; but she had no gloves, and her manner showed haste and excitement. +St. John was in his study. She ran in, exclaiming, as she opened the +door: "I wish you could come with me immediately, St. John. Get ready; +don't stop to ask questions. I will tell you while you're going." + +"Mamma?" he asked, with a sudden contraction of the face, as he started +up and went across the room to get his hat. + +"No! oh, thank Heaven! no. But don't stop for anything. Come; it is more +to me than you." + +Then St. John knew that it was something that concerned the Andrews'; +but generously made all the haste he could in following her. As he +stepped into the carriage after her, and took the reins from her hand, +he said: + +"Well!" and turned to listen. + +"It is Mrs. Andrews," she said, tremblingly. "She is dying; she may be +dead. I knew nothing of it till this morning, though her life has been +in danger through the night. Those cruel servants did not send for us, +and she has been in too much suffering to ask for any one. Now, she +scarcely knows me, but at first turned to me eagerly. She had something +to say; I don't know what. But she will never say it. Oh, St. John! +Death is so fearful--the silence. I can never hear that word, whatever +it is, of great or little moment." + +"Her husband is with her?" + +"That is the dreadful part. He is not at home. There is no one to do +anything. How they got the doctor is a wonder; except there is a brute +instinct, even in such creatures, that runs for the doctor. It was ages +before I could find the address of Mr. Andrews in town. Ages before I +could get any one off with the telegram. I came for you myself, because +I could trust no one else to get you quickly. Oh, St. John, do drive a +little faster!" + +"And what am I to do, now that you have got me?" said her brother, in a +low tone, gazing before him at the horse, now almost on a gallop. + +"Do? oh, St. John! save her! say a prayer for her! help her! What are +such as you to do but that? I didn't think you'd ask me. Oh, it is so +terrible to think of her poor soul. She is so unready; poor +thing--unless her sufferings will stand instead. _Don't_ you think they +may? Don't you think God might accept them instead of--of spirituality +and love for Him?" + +"We're not set to judge, Missy," said her brother, soothingly. "Let us +hope all we can, and pray all we can. I wish that she were conscious, if +only for one moment." + +"Well, pray for it," cried Missy, and then burst into tears. After a +moment, she turned passionately to him, and said: "St. John, I am afraid +it is partly for my own comfort I want her to speak and to be conscious +for one moment. I want to feel that I have a right to hope for her +eternal safety, and that I haven't been wasting all these weeks in +talking of things that didn't concern that, when I might have been +leading her to other thoughts. Oh, St. John, tell me, ought I to have +been talking about her soul all this time, when it was so hard? She +was--oh, I know you will understand me--she was so full of her +sufferings, and--well, of herself, that I couldn't easily talk about +what I knew in my heart she ought to be getting ready for. I didn't know +it was so near. Ah, I wasted the hours, and now her blood may be upon my +soul. St. John, there never was anybody so unready. It appalls me. I see +it all now. Poor, beautiful thing. She seems to be only made for earth. +Oh, the awe! St. John, if I had been a very good person, utterly holy, I +might have saved her, might I not? I should not have thought of anything +else, and by the force of my one purpose and desire, I could have +wakened her." + +"Maybe not, my sister. Don't reproach yourself; only pray." + +Missy twisted her hands together in her lap, and was motionless, as they +hurried on. In a moment more they were standing at the gate. As Missy +sprang out, little Jay met her, fretting and crying. + +"Oh, why haven't they taken the children over to mamma, as I ordered?" +she cried; but there was no one to make excuse. "Go, go, my dear little +Jay," she pleaded. But Jay was all unstrung and unreasonable, feeling +the gloom and discomfort. "See," she cried, hurriedly kneeling down on +the grass beside him, "go to Mrs. Varian, and tell her you are come to +pay her a little visit; and tell her to let you go to my room, and on +the table there you will find a little package, tied up in a white +paper; and it is for you. I tied it up for you last night. Go see what +it is; you haven't any idea. It is something you will like so much!" Jay +was on his way before Missy got into the house. + +It was a warm morning, close and obscure. One felt the oppression in +every nerve--an August suffocation. Low banks of threatening clouds lay +over the island that shut in the bay from the Sound, and over the West +Harbor. They boded and brooded, but would lie there for the many hours +of morning and midday that remained. Not a ripple moved the sullen +water; not a leaf stirred on the trees; the sun seemed hidden deep in +clouds of hot, still vapor. The house was all open, doors and windows, +gasping for breath. In the hall one or two servants stood aimlessly +about, listening at the foot of the stairs, or whispering together. + +St. John followed his sister closely as she entered the house. The +servants made way for her, and they went quickly up the stairs. At the +door of the sick room they paused. Another woman, wringing her hands, +and listening with keen curiosity, stood gazing in. The room was in the +most confused state. The coffee-colored Alphonsine moved stolidly about, +and occasionally put a piece of furniture in its place, or removed a +garment thrown down in the haste and panic of the past night; but +standing still, more often, to gaze back at the bed. She crossed herself +often, in a mechanical manner, but looked more sullen than sympathetic. +There was a bath in the middle of the room, cloths and towels strewn +upon the floor beside it, mustard, a night-lamp flickering still in the +face of day, a bowl of ice, some brandy. The windows were thrown wide +open; the bed stood with its head near one--another one was opposite to +it. The light fell full upon the ghastly face of the suffering woman. +Beauty! had she ever been beautiful? "Like as a moth fretting a +garment," so had her anguish made her beauty to consume away. A ghastly +being--suffering, agonized, dying--wrestling with a destroying enemy! +Such conflicts cannot last long; the end was near. + +As St. John and his sister entered the room, the doctor, who stood at +the head of the bed, was wiping the perspiration from his forehead and +glancing out of the window. He was troubled and worn out with the +night's work, and was watching eagerly for a brother physician who had +been summoned to his aid. He knew the new-comer could do no good, but he +could share the responsibility with him, and bring back the professional +atmosphere out of which he had been carried by the swift and terrible +progress of his patient's malady. Above all things, the doctor wished to +be professional and cool; and he knew he was neither in the midst of +this blundering crowd of servants, and in the sight of this fiercely +dying woman. He could have wished it all to be done over again. He had +lost his head, in a degree. He did not believe that anything could have +arrested the flight of life; all the same he wished he had known a +little more about the case; had taken the alarm quicker and sent for +other aid. He looked harassed and helpless, and very hot and tired. All +this St. John saw as he came in the room. + +Missy looked questioningly at him, and then as he gave a gesture of +assent, came quickly to the side of the bed. She half knelt beside it, +and took the poor sufferer's hand in hers. The touch, perhaps, caused +her to open her eyes, and her lips moved. Then her glance, roving and +anguished, fell upon St. John. She lifted her hand with a sudden spasm +of life. + +"A priest?" she said, huskily. + +"Yes," said St. John, coming to her quietly. + +"Then all of you go away--quick--I want to speak to him." + +"There is no time to spare," said the doctor, as he passed St. John. +Missy followed him, and the servants followed her. She closed the door +and waited outside. + +The servants seemed to be consoled by the presence of a priest; things +were taking the conventional death-bed turn. Even the doctor felt as if +the professional atmosphere were being restored in a degree. St. John, +indeed, had looked as if he knew what he was about, and had been calm in +the midst of the agitated and uncertain group, occupied himself, +perhaps, by but one thought. Young as he was, his sister and the doctor +and the servants shut him into the room with a feeling of much relief. +The servants nodded, and went their ways with apparent satisfaction. The +doctor threw himself into a chair in an adjoining room, and signified to +Miss Rothermel that he would rest till he was called. And she herself +knelt down beside an open window just outside the door, and waited, and +probably devoutly prayed for the passing soul making her tardy count +within. + +She could not but speculate upon the interview. Now that the awful sense +of responsibility was lifted off her and shifted upon her brother's +shoulders, she felt more naturally and more humanly. She began to wonder +whether it had been to ask her for a priest that the dying woman had +struggled when she first saw her that morning. She was almost sure it +was, for she had clutched at St. John with such eagerness. It was +probable she did not know him and did not associate him with Missy. His +marked dress had been his passport. And Missy really did not know what +her friend's creed was. It seemed probable she had been a Roman +Catholic, but had dropped her form of faith in holiday times of youth +and possible wrong doing, and had never had grace to resume that, or any +other in the weary days of illness--unprofitable so long as they did not +threaten death. But now death was at the door, and she had clutched at +the hem of a priest's garment. So, thought Missy, it is real when it +comes to facts; for what fact so real as death? Everything else seemed +phantom-dim when she thought of that face upon the pillow, with the +wide-open window shedding all the gray morning's light upon it. + +The moments passed; the still, dull, heavy air crept in at the window +upon which Missy bowed her head; the leaves scarcely stirred upon the +trees that stood up close beside it; a languid bird or two twittered an +occasional smothered note. There were few household sounds. The +servants, though released from their futile watching, did not resume +their household work. Missy smelt the evil odor of the Frenchman's +cigar, and was ashamed to find it vexed her, even at such a moment as +this; she braced herself to endure the "Fille de Mme. Angot," if that +should follow in a low whistle from under the trees. But it did not. The +Frenchman had that much respect for what was going on within. + +At last! There was a stir--a moan, audible even through the door, and +Missy started to her feet, and signalled the doctor, who had heard it, +too. Her brother opened the door and admitted them. But what a ghastly +face was his; Missy started. + +He turned back to the bed, and kneeling, read the commendatory prayer. + + "Through the grave and gate of death, + Now the faint soul travaileth." + +Ah, God help her; it is over. He has brought to pass His act, His +strange act, and only death lies there, senseless, dull death, +corruptible, animal, earthy, where but a moment before a soul of parts +and passions, had been chained. + +Missy, new to death-beds, got up from her knees at last, weeping and +awed, and, laying her hand on her brother's, said, "Come away, St. John, +you look so ill." + +St. John arose and followed her, going to the room and sinking into the +chair lately occupied by the doctor. He looked ill indeed, but his +sister could offer him no comfort; quiet, and to be left alone was all +he asked of her. At this moment the doctor summoned in consultation +appeared; both the professional men went professionally into the chamber +of death, and Missy, clasping the inert hand of Gabrielle, who, +whimpering, had refused to go up stairs, went sorrowfully home with the +child, feeling that she had no more to do in the house of death that +day. + +St. John came home in an hour or two. Mr. Andrews had not yet arrived. +Everything that could be done without him had, under the direction of +St. John and the doctor, been done. The house was quiet and in order, he +said. It was almost certain that Mr. Andrews would arrive in the next +train; the carriage was waiting at the depot for him, though no telegram +had come. St. John threw himself on the sofa, and seemed again to want +quiet, so his sister left him, and took the children to her own room. It +was so close in the house, and they were so restless, that after a while +she took them out upon the lawn. There was no sun, and just a cool air, +though no breeze, creeping in from the water. It was comparatively easy +to amuse them there, or rather, to let them amuse themselves. Gabrielle +was inquisitive and fretful, but little Jay seemed to feel languid and +tired by the morning's heat, and crept upon her lap at last and went to +sleep. + +Missy, sitting in the deep shade of the trees near the beech gate, +soothed by the quiet, and worn with the morning's excitement, almost +slept herself. She had gone over many times in imagination the arrival +of the husband, and his first moment at the bedside of his dead wife. +She felt sure all this had now taken place, though she was too far from +the house to hear the arrival of the carriage from the depot. She +wondered whether he would send in for the children at once, or whether +he would be glad they were away; or whether he would think of them at +all. She was glad to remember she had no duty in the matter, and that +she did not have to see him, and it was rather a comfort to her to feel +she did not know the exact moment at which he was going through the +terrible scene, and feeling the first anguish of remorse. She kissed +Jay's tawny head, and with her arms around him, finally slept, leaning +back in the great chair. Gabrielle at first played at her feet idly, +then went down to the beach, and amused herself in the sand, but it was +hot, and she came back to the shade, and, lying on the rug at Missy's +feet, slept too. + +A small steam yacht, meanwhile, had come into the harbor, had put off a +small boat, which was even now landing a gentleman near the boat-house +of the Andrews' place. The boat returned to the yacht; the gentleman set +down his bag on the steps of the boat-house, and looked around. All was +quiet; no one seemed moving at either of the two houses. Certainly it +was not a day to move if you could help it. The only hope was that those +dark clouds in the west would move, and make some change in the stagnant +state of things. The gentleman took off his straw hat and fanned himself +and walked slowly forward, then, catching sight of the group under the +trees, with something like a smile, turned back and approached them. He +stood looking down upon them, before any of them moved. Certainly, a +pretty enough group. Gabrielle was sleeping, face forward, on her arms, +a graceful figure, on the dark rug. Missy, with her soft, pretty hair +tumbled, and a flush on her cheek, lay nearly at full length in the +stretched-out sleepy chair, her light dress swept upon the grass, and +exposing one small and perfect foot with a gossamer stocking and a +darling high-heeled low-cut shoe. And Jay, flushed and hot, with his +tawny curls against her breast, and one brown hand in hers, lay across +her lap; her other hand, very white by contrast, holding the brown bare +legs in a protecting way; some picture-books, and a broad hat or two lay +upon the grass beside them. There was something in the sight that seemed +to move more than the spectator's admiration; but whatever emotion it +was, was quickly dispelled, and commonplace greeting and pleasure came +back into his face, as Gabrielle, aroused, got up with a cry of: + +"Why, papa! where did you come from? I--I guess I was asleep." + +Missy, with a start, sat up, bewildered. She had been dreaming, perhaps, +of the scene in the upper room in the house next door, which haunted her +imagination. And here she was, face to face with the man over whose +remorse she rather gloated, and it would be difficult to say how any one +could look less remorseful than he looked now. Certainly, more genial +and pleasant than she had ever seen him look before. She felt that she +must have been dreaming all the occurrences of the morning. Jay fretted +and refused to wake. Her dress was wet where his hot little head had +been lying; he threw his arm up over her neck and nestled back. + +"I--we--what train--have you just come?" she stammered, trying to know +what she was talking of, and to believe that there was no dead face on +the pillow up-stairs. + +"I did not come on a train, but in a yacht," he answered, putting his +arms around Gabby's shoulders, and holding her little hands in his. "We +started last night. Some friends of mine are on a cruise, and persuaded +me to let them bring me here. But an accident to the machinery kept us +over-night at our moorings, and interminable arrangements for the cruise +put us back this morning. We have had a hot day of it on the Sound, and +are just arrived. See, Gabrielle, there goes the yacht out of the mouth +of the harbor. It is a pity we can't run up a flag from the boat-house; +but it is too hot for exertion, and I suppose all the servants are +asleep." + +"Then you haven't--" faltered Missy, "you--that is--you have not been to +the house--" + +"No," said Mr. Andrews, looking at her as if he did not mean to be +surprised at anything she might say or do. "No, I am just on shore, and +unexpected at home. I hope you are quite well, Miss Rothermel;" for +Missy was turning very pale. "I am afraid that boy is too heavy for you; +let me take him." + +Missy was struggling to get up, and Jay was fighting to keep his place, +and not to be disturbed. + +"Let me take him. Jay, be quiet. What do you mean by this, my boy? Come +to me at once." + +"No, oh no!" said Missy, regaining her feet, and holding the boy in her +arms. He put his damp curls down on her shoulder, and both arms around +her neck, and with sleepy, half-shut, obstinate eyes, looked down upon +the ground, and up upon his father. + +Gabrielle, seeing the situation, said, amazed: "_Don't_ you know, papa?" +and then stopped suddenly, and looked frightened. + +"Hush, Gabrielle," cried Missy, trembling. For Gabby's heartlessness +would be a cruel medium through which to communicate the news. + +"There is some trouble?" said Mr. Andrews, quietly, looking from one to +the other. "Do not be afraid to tell me." + +"Let us go up to the house," said Missy, hurriedly, taking a few steps +forward with her heavy burden. Mr. Andrews walked silently beside her, +looking upon the ground, with an expression not very different from the +one he wore habitually, though very different from the one he had just +been wearing. Gabby hung behind, looking askance at the two before her, +with mingled curiosity and apprehension in her face. + +"You need not be afraid to tell me," he said, as they walked on. "Has +anything happened? I am quite unprepared, but I would rather know. I +suppose I have been telegraphed, if I was needed--" + +"I sent the telegrams to your office," said Missy; "the first one at +nine this morning. My brother sent the last one. The carriage has been +at every train all day." + +"It was a strange mischance. They did not know at the office that I was +going home in the yacht." + +"The servants were so heedless, and they did not even send for us." + +"You forget, I do not know," said Mr. Andrews, in a controlled voice, as +she paused, in walking as well as in speaking. For her agitation, and +the weight of the sleeping child together, made her tremble so that she +stopped, and leaned against a linden tree on the lawn, which they were +passing. + +"Oh, it is hard that it should come upon me," cried Missy desperately, +as she looked at him with a strange pair of eyes, leaning against the +tree, very white and trembling, and holding the boy to her breast. + +"Yes; it is hard," said her companion, "for I know it must be something +very painful to move you so. I will go to my house and learn about it +there. Come, Gabrielle; will you come with me, child?" + +"Oh, stay," cried Missy, as he stretched out his hand to the little +girl, and was going away without her, as she began to cry and hang back, +taking hold of Missy's dress. "It will be hard to hear it there--from +servants. It is the worst news any one could hear. How can I tell you? +The poor little children, they are left--alone--to you." + +And, bursting into tears, she sunk down beside Gabrielle on the grass, +and held her and Jay in one embrace. There was a silence but for the +sobs of Gabrielle, for Missy's tears were silent after the first burst; +they were raining now on Jay's head, and she kissed his forehead again +and again. "I have told you very badly," she said brokenly, after a +moment. "I hoped you would not hear it all at once; but it was not my +fault." + +There was no answer, and she went on. "The illness was so sudden and +terrible, and there was no hope, after we knew of it. I feel so dazed +and tired I hardly know what to tell you of it. It is several hours +since--since all was over. I don't suppose anything could have been done +to make it different; but it must be so dreadful to you to think you +were not here. Oh, I don't know at all how you can bear it." + +She looked up at him as she said this. He stood perfectly still and +upright before her, his face paler, perhaps, than usual, hard and rigid. +But whether he was hearing what she said, and weighing it critically, or +whether he did not hear or comprehend, she could not tell. There was no +change of expression, no emotion in eye or mouth to enlighten her. She +had, in her pity for him, and her agitation at being the one to +communicate the evil tidings, forgotten the rancor that she bore him, +and the remorse that she had wished he might endure. These feelings +began sharply to awaken, as she glanced at him. She felt her tears burn +her cheeks, looking at his unmoistened eyes. She put down Jay upon his +feet, and disengaging herself from Gabrielle, stood up, keeping Jay's +hand in hers. + +"My brother will tell you all the rest," she said, slowly moving on, +leading the children. Mr. Andrews mechanically followed her, looking +upon the ground. Missy's heart beat fast; she held the children tight by +the hand; it seemed to her that this was worse than all the rest. She +was not much used to tragedy, and had never had to tell a man the wife +was dead, whom he was expecting to meet within five minutes. + +The men and women she had known had loved each other, and lived happily +together, in a measure. She was new to this sort of experience. She was +thrilling with the indignation that very young persons feel when their +ideal anything is overthrown. She was, practically, in the matter of +ideals, a very young person, though she was twenty-eight. + +They were very near the house now. A few more steps and they would be at +the side door that led into the summer parlor. There was a total +silence, broken by Jay's whimpering, "I don't want to go home with papa; +I want to stay with you to-night." + +Gabby, who didn't have any more cheerful recollection of home to-day +than he, chimed in a petition to stay. She thought she would rather look +over aunt Harriet's boxes, and be a little scolded, than go home to the +ejaculations and whisperings of the servants, and have to pass That +Room. This was about the depth of her grief; but she whimpered and +wanted to stay. When they reached the steps that led up to the door, +Missy paused and turned to Mr. Andrews, who was just behind her. + +"Shall I keep the children?" she said, facing him, her cheeks flushed, a +child grasping each hand. + +"Yes--if you will--if you will be so kind," he said. She had hoped his +voice would be shaken, would show agitation. But it did not. It was +rather low, but perfectly controlled, and he knew what he was saying. He +"remembered his manners." He was collected enough to be polite; "if you +will be so kind." + +"Come then, children," she said, trembling all over, voice included, as +she went up the steps. He walked away without any further speech. +Leaving the children in the summer-parlor, she ran through the house to +one of the front windows, and pushing open a little the blind, sat down +palpitating and watched him going down to the gate. He walked slowly, +but his step was steady. He followed the road, and did not walk across +the grass, like a man who does not think what he is doing. When he +reached the gate, he did not turn to the right towards his own house, to +the gate of which a few steps more would have brought him, but he walked +up the road, with his head down, as if pondering something. Presently, +however, he turned and came back, passed the Varians' gate, and went on +into his own. And then Missy lost sight of him among the trees that +stood between the two houses. She threw herself upon a sofa, and pressed +her hands before her eyes, as she thought of that broken, pain-strained +figure, rigid on the bed up-stairs. And if he did not cry for his +coldness and cruelty, she did, till her head and her eyes ached. + +That night, after Missy had put the children to bed in her own room, as +she went down stairs, she heard St. John sending a servant in to ask +Mr. Andrews if he would see him for a few moments. + +"St. John," she exclaimed, in a low voice, joining him. "Why do you send +in? It is his place to send for you. I would not do it, really. I--I +hate the man. I told him you would tell him everything, and he has been +here four hours at least, and has never sent for you. I don't believe he +wants to hear anything. I have no doubt he has had a good dinner and is +reading the paper. May be he will ask you to join him with a cigar." + +"Don't be uncharitable, Missy," said her brother, walking up and down +the room. + +"But why do you send?" persisted his sister. "He doesn't want to see +you, or he would have sent." + +"But I want to see him. So, Missy, don't let us talk about it any more." + +It was evident to his sister that St. John did not anticipate the +meeting with much pleasure. He was a little restless, for him, till the +servant came back with a message, to the effect that Mr. Andrews would +be very glad to see Mr. Varian at once, if he were at liberty to come. +St. John looked rather pale as he kissed his sister good-night (for he +was not coming back, but going directly home to the rectory), and she +felt that his hand was cold. + +"He is young for such experiences," she said to her mother, as she sat +down beside her sofa in the summer twilight. + +"He doesn't seem young to me any longer," returned her mother. + +"A few days such as this would make us all old," said Missy, with a +sigh, leaning her face down on her mother's arm. "Mamma, I am sure this +interview is very painful to St. John. I am sure he has been charged +with something to say to her husband, _by that poor soul_. How I wish it +weren't wrong to ask him what it was. But,"--with a sigh--"I suppose we +shall never know." + +"Never, Missy. But we can be charitable. And when you are my age, my +child, you will be afraid to judge any one, and will distrust the sight +of your own eyes." + +At this moment Miss Varian came lumbering into the room, leaning on the +arm of Goneril. + +"I suppose," she said, not hearing the low voices, "that Missy is at her +nursery duties yet. Are you here, Dorla? I should think she might +remember that you might sometimes be a little lonely, while she is busy +in her new vocation." + +Missy scorned to answer, but her mother said pleasantly: "Oh, she is +here; her babies have been asleep some time." + +"I'm not surprised. I don't believe Gabby's grief has kept her awake. +That child has a heart like a pebble, small and hard. As to little Jay, +he has the constitution and the endowments of a rat terrier, nothing +beyond. I don't believe he ever will amount to anything more than a +good, sturdy little animal." + +"He will amount to a big animal, I suppose, if he lives long enough," +said Missy, with a sharp intonation of contempt. + +"Well, not very, if he copies his father. Gabby has all the cleverness. +I should call Jay a dull child, as far as I can judge; dull of +intellect, but so strong and well that it gives him a certain force." + +"Aunt Harriet!" cried Missy, impatiently, "can't you leave even +children alone? What have those poor little morsels done to you, that +you should defame them so?" + +"Done? Oh, nothing, but waked me up from my nap this afternoon. And, you +know, deprived me and your mother of much of your soothing society for +the past two months." + +"I haven't begrudged Missy to them," said her mother, affectionately, +drawing Missy's hand around her neck in the dimness. "I think the poor +little things have needed a friend for a long while, and, alas, they +need one now." + +"It's my impression they're no worse off to-day than they were +yesterday. There is such a thing as gaining by a loss." + +Mrs. Varian put her hand over Missy's mouth; Miss Varian, annoyed by not +being answered, went on with added sharpness: + +"Goneril says the servants tell her all sorts of stories about the state +of things between master and mistress in the house next door. I am +afraid the poor man isn't to blame for snubbing her as he has done. They +say she--" + +"Oh, my dear Harriet," said Mrs. Varian, keeping her hand on Missy's +lips, "don't you think it is a pity to be influenced by servants. It is +difficult enough to tell the truth ourselves, and keep it intact when it +goes through many hands; and I don't think that the ill-educated and +often unprincipled people who serve us, are able at all to judge of +character, and to convey facts correctly; do you? I don't doubt +two-thirds of the gossip among our servants is without foundation. +Imagine Goneril describing an interview between us; to begin with, she +would scarcely understand what we said, if we talked of anything but the +most commonplace things. She would think we quarreled, if we differed +about the characters in a novel." + +"Goneril! She would not only misunderstand, but she would misstate with +premeditation and malice. That woman--" And on that perennial grievance, +the lady's wrath was turned, as her sister-in-law meant it should be, +and Missy's feelings were spared. She kissed her mother's hand secretly, +and whispered "thank you." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MISRULE. + + +Mrs. Andrews died late in August. Late in September, one afternoon, +Missy walked up and down at the foot of the lawn, and pondered deeply on +the state of things. That anything could go on worse than things went on +in the house next door, she felt to be improbable. That any children +could be more neglected, more fretted, more injudiciously treated, she +knew to be impossible. She did not mind it much that the servants +plundered their master, and that waste and extravagance went on most +merrily. But that her poor Jay should be reduced indeed to the level of +a rat terrier, by the alternate coaxing and thwarting of the low +creatures who had him in charge, was matter of different moment. It was +very bad for Gabrielle, of course. But Gabrielle was not Jay, and that +made all the difference. Still, even to save Gabrielle, Missy would have +made a good fight, if she had known what way to go to work. The children +were with her as much as ever; at least Jay was. Gabrielle was a little +more restless under restraint, and a good deal more unfathomable than a +month ago. She was intimate with one of the maids, and the Frenchman was +in love with this maid, and petted and joked with Gabrielle, who seemed +to carry messages between them, and to be much interested in their +affairs. She was more contented at home, and less often came to look +over Aunt Harriet's boxes of treasures and to be catechised by her as a +return. + +As to Jay, he was passionate and stubborn, and Missy's heart was broken +by a fib he had just told her. The father came home at night, and +always, she believed, asked for the children, and when they could be +found, and made superficially respectable, they were brought to the +table for a little while. But Jay fell asleep sometimes, with his head +on the table-cloth, overcome with the long day's play. And Gabby, after +she had got a little money out of his pocket, and a little dessert off +his plate, preferred the society of the servants, and went away to them. +In the morning, they rarely breakfasted with him. They were some times +not up, and never dressed in time for that early meal. They took their +meals before or after the servants, as those dignitaries found most +convenient. Once, poor Jay wandered in hungry and cross at nine o'clock, +and told Missy he had had nothing to eat, and that Gabby was dancing for +the servants in the kitchen while they ate their breakfast. They made +such a noise, Jay said, they made his head ache, and he acknowledged to +kicking one of the women who wouldn't go and get him his breakfast, and +being put out from the festive scene in disgrace. He ate muffins and +omelette on Missy's lap, that morning, but it did not probably make the +other mornings any better. No one could advise anything. Mrs. Varian +could see no way out of it, and painful as it was, could suggest nothing +but patience. It was manifestly not their business to offer any +interference. St. John, his sister appealed to in vain. Except the +interview on the evening of the wife's death, and the few moments' +preceding the funeral services, there had been no communication between +them. St. John had called, but Mr. Andrews had been away from the house +at the moment. On Sundays, he did not go to church--on week days, he was +in the city. St. John told his sister, very truly, it would be +impertinence to force himself upon a person so nearly a stranger, and +she quite agreed with him. But Jay! + +"Why isn't he my child, and why can't I snatch him up and run away with +him," she cried, tossing a handful of pebbles into the water and +wrapping her cloak closer around her as she walked away from the +beach-gate. She could not understand eloping with a man, but with her +tawny-haired mannikin she could have consented to fly, she felt. + +It was a high September tide; the water was lapping against the wall, +the sky was blue, the wind was fresh. It was not yet sunset; she +suspected there were visitors in the house; a carriage had driven up to +the stable, from which she turned away her head, and which she resolved +not to recognize. Hastily following a path that led up to the little +wooded eminence that skirted the shore, she concealed her inhospitable +thoughts and was out of sight of the house. "I don't really know who +they were," she said to herself, when she was safe in the thicket. "So +many people have bay horses, and I did not see the coachman. And how +could I waste this glorious afternoon in the house? They will amuse Aunt +Harriet, and I could not be with mamma if I were entertaining them. I am +quite right in making my escape." + +The little path was narrow and close; the thicket almost met above her +head. It was very still in there; the wind could not get in, and only +the sound of the waves, washing on the shore below, could. + + "Where, through groves deep and high, + Sounds the far billow, + Where early violets die + Under the willow--" + +she sang in a low voice, as from a little child she had always sung, or +thought, as she passed along this tangled path. To be sure, it had the +disadvantage of being a low thicket of cedars, instead of a grove deep +and high. And the far billow was a near wave, and a small one at that. +But she had always had to translate her romance into the vernacular. She +had grown up in tame, pastoral green ways, in a home outwardly and +inwardly peaceful and unmarked; and her young enthusiasms had had to fit +themselves to her surroundings, or she should have been discontented +with them. A good deal of imagination helped her in this. She loved the +scenes for their own sakes, and for the sake of all the romance with +which they were interwoven. A sense of humor even did not interfere. She +laughed at herself as she grew older; but she loved the places just as +well, and went on calling them by their fictitious names. + +Clouds of Michaelmas daisies bordered the path; purple asters crowded up +among the dead leaves and underbrush. She liked them all; and the dear +old path seemed sweeter and more sheltered to her than ever. Still, she +felt a care and an oppression unusual to her; she could not forget +little Jay, who was almost always at her side when she walked here. She +crossed the little bridge, that spanned what had been a "ravine" to her +in younger days; and climbing up the hill, stopped on the top of a sandy +cliff, crowned with a few cedars and much underbrush. Here was the blue +bay spread out before her; the neck of land and the island that closed +in the bay were all in bright autumn yellow and red. Sweet fern and +bayberry made the air odorous; the little purplish berries on the cedars +even gave out their faint tribute of smell in the clear, pure air. There +was a seat in the low branch of a cedar, just on the edge of the bank. +Here she sat down and tossed pebbles down the sandy steep, and thought +of the perplexing question--how to rescue Jay; and Gabby, too, in +parenthesis. Gabby was always in parenthesis, but she was not quite +forgotten. + +Presently, on the still autumn atmosphere came the faint smell of a +cigar. At the same moment, the crashing of a man's tread among the dry +underbrush, in the opposite direction from whence she had herself come. +Before she had time to speculate on the subject, Mr. Andrews stood +before her, coming abruptly out of the thicket. He was as much +surprised as she, and perhaps no better pleased. It was impossible for +either to be unconscious of the last interview they had had just one +month ago. Mr. Andrews' complexion grew a little darker, which was an +indication that he was embarrassed, perhaps to find he was on the +Varian's land; perhaps that he was confronting a young woman who did not +approve of him; perhaps that he was confronting any young woman at all. +Who knows--these middle-aged men with thick skins may have sensibilities +of which no one dreams, and of which no one is desired to dream. + +Miss Rothermel's ordinarily colorless cheeks were quite in a flame. She +half rose from her cedar seat, and then irresolutely sat down again. Mr. +Andrews threw away his cigar down the sand bank, and without looking +irresolute, possibly felt so, as he paused beside her. Her first word +sealed him in his resolution not to raise his hat and pass on, as he +would have done in an ordinary place. It was quite in character for her +to speak first. + +"I didn't know you were in the country to-day," she said with +embarrassment. "You do not stay up very often, do you?" + +Then she thought she couldn't possibly have chosen a remark more +personal and unwise. She did not like him to think she knew his habits, +and speculated about them. But here, she had told him the first thing. + +"No," he said, "I do not stay up very often. I came home to-day in the +noon train to give the children a drive this afternoon; but I found when +I reached home, that they had gone off with the servants on a picnic. +Perhaps you knew about it? I own I was surprised." + +"No," said Missy, flushing more deeply, "I did not know anything about +it, till they had gone away, and I disapproved it very much; not that I +have any right to approve or disapprove; but I am very fond of +Jay--and--and--oh, Mr. Andrews, I wonder if you would think it +unpardonable if I said something to you!" + +Mr. Andrews may have doubted whether he should think what she had to say +very agreeable; but he was too gentlemanly to intimate it. She looked so +eager and interested, and it was all about his boy. So he said +indefinitely, that she was only too good to the children, and it was +impossible for him to think anything she said unpardonable. + +Missy, with an underlying conviction that she was doing the precise +thing that she had made up her mind not to do--rushed on with a hurried +statement of the picnic facts; how Gabby had known the plan for two or +three days, and had closely guarded the secret; how provisions had been +put over night in the sail-boat, and the champagne carried down in the +early dawn; and how dear little Jay, carried away by the tide of +excitement, and tutored by the infamous maids, had actually told her a +falsehood, and explained to her the night before that she need not look +for him in the morning, for he should be in town all day with his papa, +who was going to take him to the dentist. Mr. Andrews uttered an +exclamation at this last statement, and ground his cane into the ground +at the root of the cedar-tree. "Poor little Jay," said Missy, looking +ready to cry. "Think what a course of evil he must have been put +through to have been induced to say that. Gabrielle I am not surprised +at. She isn't truthful. It doesn't seem to be her nature. I--I--didn't +mean to say that exactly." + +"You needn't mind," said her companion, bitterly. "I am afraid it is the +truth." + +"But Jay," said Missy, hurriedly, "is so sweet natured, and so clear and +honest, I can't think how they could have made him do it. It only shows +me how dreadful his temptations are, and how much he must go through +when he is at home." + +"I don't see how it can be helped," said the father with a sort of +groan. "I can't be with them all the time; and if I were perhaps I +shouldn't mend the matter. I suppose they must take their chance like +others." + +"Very well, if you are satisfied," she said stiffly. + +"But I am not satisfied," he answered. "I should think I needn't assure +you of that. But I feel helpless, and I don't know what to do. I don't +want to part with the children just yet, you can understand that, no +doubt. And yet I don't see what arrangement I can make to improve their +condition at home. You must see it is perplexing." + +"Will you let me tell you what to do," cried Missy, eagerly, twisting +her fingers together as she spoke. + +"Gladly," he returned, looking down at her. + +"Turn away every servant in your house." He looked blank and dismayed. + +"They are as bad a lot as ever were brought together," she said. "They +are neither honest nor truthful, nor in any sense respectable. There is +not one of them that is worth trying to reform. I don't wonder you are +dismayed at the thought of change. Men do not know anything about such +things, naturally; take my word for it, you cannot keep them without +danger to your property, let alone your children." + +"Are they worse than servants generally?" he said, helplessly. "I +thought they were always dishonest; mine have always been ever since I +have had a household." + +"And we," said Missy, "have never had a dishonest servant in our house a +week." + +"You have been very fortunate then." + +"No," she said; "only we have had common prudence, and have looked after +them a little." + +"Well," said Mr. Andrews, drawing a deep breath, "if I knew how to go to +work, I would get rid of them all. But I don't really know anything +about these matters." + +"If it were in your business, you would know how to get rid of a +dishonest clerk, I suppose." + +"Oh, yes, that is a different matter. I could easily deal with the men +in this case. But the women--well, really, you see it is uncomfortable. +And I don't know how to get rid of them, or where to get any better if I +do." + +"Oh, that could be easily managed." + +"Could it?" he said, earnestly. "Believe me, I would do anything +to--to--render the fate of my children less unfortunate." + +There was a touch of feeling in his voice that softened Missy. + +"I wish you would be resolute about this then, and make the change at +once. I could--mamma could tell you, perhaps, of good servants, and how +to manage. Believe me, it isn't so hard sending off servants and +getting new ones. I wish you were as angry with these as I am. You would +not find it hard." + +Mr. Andrews smiled a little, but it was faintly, and he looked +perplexed. + +"If I only knew what to do," he said again. "If you will tell me the +way, I will walk in it." + +"Well, in the first place," said Missy, nothing loth, "I would take the +horses at once and drive over to Eel Creek, where I understand the +picnic party are, and capture the children--they may not get home till +midnight, for you see the wind is against them, and these men know +nothing about sailing. No doubt they meant to be home long before this +time, starting so early, but they are not in sight. I have been watching +for them. Then bring the children to our house; we will take care of +them till matters are settled. Then, you know, when the servants get +home, after being detected in such a scrape as this, they can expect +nothing but to be dismissed. I am sure they would be much surprised at +any other ending of the adventure, and they will take it very quietly." + +"Oh, I'm not afraid of them, I believe," said Mr. Andrews, with a smile. +"Only I don't exactly know how to go about it. What have they done? What +shall I say to them? Is going on a picnic without permission sufficient +ground to dismiss them all at once?" + +"The champagne is, and the claret--and the chickens--and the deceit--and +the children--and the sail-boat!" exclaimed Missy, rather incoherently. + +"I suppose you are right," said Mr. Andrews, with a sigh. "They may +well be glad to get off without any trouble." + +"They may indeed. And if you call them together to-night, and speak +severely to them, and tell them to pack their trunks and leave by the +noon train to-morrow, they will think they have got off very easily." + +"But what shall we do after they are gone?" asked Mr. Andrews, +despondently. + +"Oh, that is easy enough!" cried Missy, starting up and taking the path +back to the house, her companion following her. "Mamma and I will take +care of the children for a few days, till you are all settled. And there +is an old servant of ours living in the village, who will go to you and +take charge of things till you get your servants. She is quite +capable--cooks well, and will do everything you need for a little while; +and it is easy enough to get a man to look after the horses for a day or +two, till you are suited with a coachman. One of the Rogers boys would +do very well; they are honest, good people, all of them, and need work +just now. They understand horses thoroughly; we had Tom ourselves for +awhile. You needn't be afraid of them." + +"They couldn't possibly be worse than Michael. I am sure I don't know +how to thank you enough. The way really looks quite easy. But how about +the new women? where am I to look for them?" + +"Well, it depends," said Missy, "on what sort of service you want. Now, +to be frank with you, Mr. Andrews, you have just twice as many servants +as you need. But maybe you like to have a great many; some people do. I +don't, you know. I can't bear to have a servant in the house who has no +_raison d'être_. Half your servants have no reasonable excuse for being +in your house, except that they want your money." + +"I always wondered," said Mr. Andrews, humbly, "why we needed so many; +but there seemed no way of being comfortable with less." + +"You see it is a small house," said Missy; "the work of keeping it in +order is not great. And in winter--but I don't suppose you mean to stay +in winter?" + +"Yes, I mean to stay this winter. I think no place could be better for +the children, if I can get the proper people to take care of them." + +"Well, then you want to get--first, a cook. I don't suppose you'll have +much company?" + +"None, probably." + +"Then you do not want a very pretentious one. A good plain cook--unless +you want a great many _entrées_ and great variety." + +"Oh, as to that, I am thankful if I get three courses. The present cook +began bravely, but has been cutting me down steadily. Yesterday we had +no soup, and the day before, boiled rice and raisins for dessert." + +"Oh," exclaimed Missy, indignantly, "that is an outrage, indeed! Well, I +think if you could be patient under that, you could get along with a +plain cook." + +"Why must she be a plain cook?" + +"Because," said Missy, artlessly, "if she is a plain cook and doesn't +understand _entrées_ and all that, she will help in the washing, and it +would be _such_ a blessing if you did not have to have a fourth woman in +the house." + +Mr. Andrews looked bewildered, as he opened the gate for her to pass +out. + +"You see," said Missy, apologetically, "it is such a silly thing to have +servants that you don't need. They are in each other's way in a small +house. You need a good plain cook, and a waitress, and let these two do +the washing and ironing. And then you need a nurse, or a nursery +governess, a quiet, nice person, who will do everything for the +children, including their mending. And then you need a coachman. +And--well, of course you'll know whether it will be comfortable or not +when you've tried it for a few weeks. But I am quite sure you will not +lack anything that you have now, except disorder." + +"I am sure of it," said Mr. Andrews, submissively. + +"The most important of all," said Missy, as they crossed the lawn, "is +the nurse--and I think I know the very person. I must ask mamma if she +does not think she would do very well. She lives a mile or two out of +the village; is a well brought up, well-educated girl, quite used to +work, and yet quite capable of teaching. She has such a quiet, steady +manner. I think her influence over the children would be so good. She +manages her own little brothers and sisters well, I have noticed. +Besides, she would probably come to you for very little more than the +wages of an ordinary servant." + +Missy colored after she said this. It seemed quite absurd for her to be +economizing for her neighbor; but it was quite an involuntary action of +her thrifty mind. + +"I beg your pardon," she said, confusedly. "It seems very officious, but +you know I can't help thinking it is a pity to spend money without +thought. Mamma laughs at me, but I can't help feeling annoyed at seeing +a great deal spent to save the trouble of a little thought. That is why +people go on multiplying servants, and paying whatever may be asked for +wages, because they do not want to give themselves the trouble of +thinking and planning about it." + +"I think you are quite right," said Mr. Andrews. "And I beg you will not +imagine that my household extravagances are with intention. I have +always regretted that I could not have things managed differently, but I +could not find a way to do it." + +This was dangerous ground, and Missy wished herself off it, particularly +as it was humbling to find herself on such familiar, counsel-giving +terms with this brutal husband; but, in truth, she had been quite +carried away by the near prospect of Having Her Own Way. She looked a +little confused, and was silent as they walked along. It did not seem to +be unnatural or uncomfortable to be silent with Mr. Andrews, who was +essentially a silent man. Just before they reached the house, she gave a +last look back towards the bay. + +"I do not see them," she said, "they are not yet inside the harbor. I +should not wonder if you caught them before they start from Eel Creek. +Probably they were all day getting there." + +"You are right, and I ought to hurry." + +"You know the road to Eel Creek?" + +"Well, yes, I think so; I am not quite sure, but probably I can find it. +I have a general idea." + +"If there is any doubt, take one of our men with you." + +"Thank you, that won't be necessary. I will inquire my way. Miss +Rothermel, you have been very good--I don't know how I can thank you +enough." + +"Oh, as to that, don't thank me till you have got the other side of the +trouble. Only don't give out--" + +"You are afraid of me," he said with a smile. "Well, I acknowledge I am +rather a coward, when it comes to the management of maid-servants. But I +will be firm." + +They had now got to the steps that led into the summer parlor, and as +she turned to go up them, she gave a look at her companion, who was +lifting his hat and passing on. He looked so stalwart and so invincible, +that she believed he was anything but a coward, except where women were +concerned. Somewhere, however, there must be a loose scale in his armor. +He certainly was the sort of man tyrannized over easily by women. + +"And yet," thought Missy, correcting the conviction, "in one case we +know he was a brutal tyrant. But no matter. Anything to rescue Jay." So +she gave him a pleasant smile, and told him they should wait tea for the +children, and went into the house, while he walked rapidly towards the +gate. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A TEA TABLE TRUCE. + + +Two hours later, Mr. Andrews drove up to the door, in the darkness, with +a pair of sleepy children, and a pair of restless horses, and a coachman +feeling deeply the surreptitious claret and champagne. Missy, hearing +the turbulent voice of Jay, ran to the door, accompanied by Ann. The +bright light from the hall came flooding on the piazza as the door +opened, and Missy, reaching out her arms to take the sleepy boy from his +father, looked like a good angel, to his eyes. Gabby was following up +the steps and whimpering audibly. + +"You will have your hands full, Miss Rothermel, I am afraid," he said +gloomily. "The children are very cross. But I am thankful that I took +your advice. The carouse was not nearly over. I believe the children +would have been drowned, if I had not gone for them. The creatures were +just embarking for the return voyage, all as drunk as lords. Heaven +knows what might have happened if they had got off. I ordered them on +shore, and put the sail-boat in charge of the man who lives near the +beach, and the wretches are to come home on foot. The walk may sober +them a little." + +"Poor little Jay," cried Missy, hugging him. He slapped her, and then +began to roar with remorse and headache combined, and to throw himself +back and try to fall out of her arms. They were now in the hall. His +father, horrified, began to reprove him. + +"Oh, don't," cried Missy, "poor little man. He is not responsible. +To-morrow morning he'll be all right. Come, Gabby, take off your hat, +child." + +"I don't know what I should have done with them, if I had not had this +refuge," said Mr. Andrews, looking careworn indeed. + +"Oh, that is nothing," said Missy cheerily; "we are so glad to have +them. And you, Mr. Andrews, mamma begs you will come in to tea." + +"That will be impossible, I'm afraid; thank you very much," he said, +looking anxiously back towards the door, whence came the sound of +stamping horses, and an occasional mumbled ejaculation and a frequently +snapped whip. "I have to look after the horses, and this man." + +"Let Peters do that," said Missy, bent on her own way. She had +determined to bury the hatchet and to have Mr. Andrews stay to tea. She +felt it was a gracious thing to do, though rather hard, and having made +up her mind to an act of magnanimity, objected to being thwarted. + +"Mamma wants to see you," she said. "Besides, you have not had any +dinner, and you will not probably get any at home, unless you cook it +yourself. Let Peters go in and attend to the stable. It is the only +thing to do." + +"Perhaps you are right," he said, irresolutely "Well, as you are so +kind, I will go home, and lock a few of the doors, and return in a +moment." + +As he drove off, Missy heard him say a word or two to the coachman, +which convinced her he was not afraid of men servants, whatever he +might be of maid servants. Ann was sent to call Peters. Gabby, who was +really ill from over-eating and over-fatigue, was sent to bed in care of +Goneril. Jay, who pleaded to stay up to tea, was allowed to lie on the +sofa beside the fire, and get warmed after his long exposure to the +night air. Missy covered him with an afghan, and kneeling down beside +him, had just seen his eyes close in unconquerable sleep, when Mr. +Andrews came in. He was half way across the room before her mother's +"Missy!" started her to her feet. "Oh, I beg your pardon; I did not hear +you. Mamma, let me present Mr. Andrews." + +Mrs. Varian half rose from her sofa, and Mr. Andrews thought her lovely +and gracious, as every one else did. He bowed to Miss Varian; and, no +doubt, he thought they were all angels, as indeed he was excusable for +thinking, coming from the dark and hopeless tangle of his own house. The +cheer of the fire and the lamp, the odor of the flowers, the grace of +the woman who had arisen to welcome him, the kindness of the one who had +been kneeling beside his little outcast, the air of order, luxury, +peace, all filled him with a sense that he had been living in another +world, on the other side of the arbor-vitæ hedge. He was, as has been +said, a silent man, and one of those straightforward men who never seem +to think that they need to speak when they have nothing to say. He was +not silent from shyness, but from simplicity of motive, from a native +honesty; consequently, his silence was not oppressive, but natural. +To-night, however, there was much to say. There were the details of the +broken-up camp at Eel Creek, the various stages of hilarity and +depression among the servants, the danger of the children, the +probabilities of a slow march, the ludicrous side of the coming midnight +court-martial. When they were ready to go in to tea, Missy stayed behind +for an instant to tuck Jay's afghan about him and put a chair beside +him, and to feel whether his pulse was quick. "Bless him," she +whispered, giving him a kiss, "better days are coming." + +The tea table was as graceful and pretty as possible; the things to eat +rarely good, and Mr. Andrews, poor man, had been fasting all day. He +despised lunch, and he hadn't had any chance to get a dinner; so no +wonder he appreciated the tea that was set before him. Miss Varian was +in a good humor, and quite sharp and witty, and whatever Mrs. Varian +said, was always gracious and delightful. Miss Rothermel had enough to +do to pour out the tea, and she was quite satisfied with the march of +events, including Mr. Andrews' appetite, and the complexion of the +waffles. She thought of the soupless dinner he had mentioned, and of the +alms-house provision of boiled rice and raisins, and she felt for a +moment, what bliss to keep house for a man with such an appetite and no +ascetic tendencies. St. John was a continual trial to her. But then she +checked herself sharply, and thought how deceitful appearances were, and +how cruel had been the lot of the woman who had kept house for him, till +alas, a month ago exactly. It was a bitter commentary on her fate, that +he was able to enjoy broiled oysters so unblushingly within thirty days +of his bereavement. Happily, behind the tea-kettle, Missy's dark frown +was hidden; but she soon threw it off; she had made up her mind to be +amiable for this one evening, and she would not break her resolution. + +After tea, when they were again around the parlor fire, St. John came +in. The sight of him changed the expression of the guest's face; the +care-worn look came back, and a silence. Before very long, he said, +rising, that he must go home, and make ready for the reception of the +criminals. This was plainly a thing that ought to be done, and Mrs. +Varian had been thinking so for half an hour. St. John went with him to +the door, and Missy heard Mr. Andrews say, as they parted on the piazza: +"I have wanted to see you. I hope you don't think that, because our +interview was what it was, I shrink from further acquaintance. Perhaps +_I_ should have gone to you, and said this. I hope you will take it now. +You can understand how hard it is for me to say this." + +"I do understand," said St. John earnestly; "and I hope that the painful +association will not interfere with our future intercourse. Perhaps _I_ +should have gone to _you_, and said this." + +She lost what followed--an irreparable loss. She had been standing at +the window, which was open, behind the curtain, and could not have +helped hearing what they said. + +"Rather a high and mighty penitent," she said to herself, indignantly, +going over his words in her mind. "And St. John is so young, and +so--well, I am afraid he's weak. It is natural for people to be weak +when they are young. He seemed only anxious to propitiate him. I suppose +he hopes in that way to get an influence over him. Of course, it must be +hard to stand up against a man of double his own age; but I should +think being a priest would give him courage." + +At this time, Jay woke up, and, in taking him to bed, she missed St. +John's return to the parlor, and the remainder of his visit. "Mamma, +what do you think of him?" she said, sitting down beside her mother's +sofa late that night. + +"I rather like him," was the answer. + +"Yes, if one could forget everything. I think he is gentlemanly, and +unobjectionable in manner--almost pleasing. But I suppose I ought not to +forget what I know of his cruel neglect, and of the almost tragic end of +it." + +"Of course, that seems terrible--but--" + +"But, mamma!" cried Missy, "I scarcely expected you to say that. Oh, how +true it is, women are cruel to each other. Think--you know nothing in +favor of Mr. Andrews. Everything in his disfavor: nothing against Mrs. +Andrews: everything in her favor, and yet you say, 'I rather like him; +all this is very terrible--_but_--'" + +"Well, you know I had never seen the wife. You are influenced by +admiration for her. I am influenced by something that attracts me in the +husband. We really, Missy, do not know much of the lives of either of +them." + +"I know that she was neglected, left alone. That for days together she +never saw her husband. That his manner, on receiving the news of her +death, was more stolid and indifferent than mine would have been on +being told of the sudden and suffering death of a total stranger. I know +that she hated, feared him. And she was impulsive, quick, and probably +warm-hearted." + +"Probably, Missy? Well, I don't want to wound you--but--but her children +did not seem very dear to her." + +"Mamma, when one is suffering as she was, naturally, to an undisciplined +nature, life centers where the suffering is. You cannot think of +anything else. You just cry out, and bend your mind upon getting through +with your pain as best you may, unless you have learned the higher +lesson, which of course I know she hadn't. She had not in any sense +learned the uses of her sufferings; I don't deny that. But who heaped +those sufferings upon her? Who failed to make her better, if she was not +perfect, child as she was, compared with him? Think of the difference in +their ages. Oh, it makes me bitter to think of it. No, nothing can +excuse him, nothing." + +"It is hard to say that. Wait till we know both stories." + +"Those we never shall know. She can't tell us any more of hers, poor +soul, and he never will, you may be sure. Or, if he did, I should not +feel bound to believe him. I assure you, I am not impressed with him as +you are." + +"He seems very tender towards his children." + +"Yes, tender, but weak and irresolute. Possibly a little remorseful; we +don't know how long this will last. He is undoubtedly sorry he broke +their poor mother's heart, as sorry as such a stout, stolid thing can +be, and he doesn't want the children to be drowned by the servants, or +taught to swear or steal, just now, at any rate. He is willing to second +our efforts to save them. He will not oppose us, at any rate. You must +acknowledge it wouldn't look well, if he did." + +"Now, Missy, you are uncharitable." + +"No, mamma; you are over-charitable; this plausible gentleman has so +worked upon you. Really I--I hate him. I always have, and your taking +him up so only increases my aversion." + +"Excuse me. My taking him up is imaginary." + +"Oh, no, mamma, believe me, you have taken his side, unconsciously to +yourself. And, equally unconsciously, you have, from the very first, set +yourself against her, and deplored my infatuation. I have always seen +it." + +"I confess that some things you told me prejudiced me against her. I +felt that her personal attraction must be great to make you overlook +them." + +"You mean her telling me things against her husband, even as early as +our first interview." + +"And her indifference to her children, Missy, and her great egotism." + +"I can understand, mamma, how this would strike you. I am quite sure if +you had known her, you would not have wondered, or blamed; you would +only have pitied. She spoke to me because she saw my friendship, and +because, poor soul, she had seen no one but the servants for weeks or +months. I shouldn't have wondered if she had told me her whole history +the first time that I saw her." + +"But she never did tell you her whole history, Missy. You know nothing +of it really, notwithstanding all the time you spent with her." + +"And that you find against her! Really, mamma, you are hard to please. +You reproach her for telling me so much, and you distrust her because +she did not tell me more." + +"Vague accusations, and complaints of injustice are easily made, Missy. +I should think we were in a better position to judge of matters, if you +had ever had a plain story of her life and its wrongs given to you." + +"I wish, for your sake, that I had; but perhaps it was more noble in her +to die without doing it. I am afraid, mamma, we shall never think alike +about this. But if you can't sympathize with me, at least do not try me +by too much approbation of this man. I will bear anything in reason; but +if you and Aunt Harriet and St. John all continue to pay homage to him +as you did to-night, I shall think it rather trying." + +"Oh, as to that, I think we were only civil; and you were quite as +amiable as we--which, my dear, you must continue to be, if you hope to +keep any hold over Jay's fate. Poor little fellow! do not, by an +unnecessary show of rancor, throw him back into the arms of Alphonsine +and Bridget." + +"That is the only thing," said Missy, crossing the room to fasten the +window for the night. "I mean to get my own way about him; and I only +hope it will not involve speaking many more words, good or bad, to his +father." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE SWEETS OF VICTORY. + + +The next morning a little note came from Mr. Andrews. It was addressed +to Missy. + + + "Dear Miss Rothermel-- + + "The woman named Alphonsine is very penitent, and begs to stay. Do + you think I might allow her? + + Very truly yours, + + "JAMES ANDREWS." + + +Missy dashed off a reply on the other side of his sheet of paper in +pencil. + + "Don't keep her on any account. She is the worst of them all. + + A.R." + +As Missy twisted this up and handed it to the messenger, Mrs. Varian +rather anxiously asked to see it. "Don't you even put it in an +envelope?" she said glancing over the meagre slip. "Your notes are +generally so nice; this doesn't look like you, and is hardly civil." + +"Business is business," said Missy, twisting it up again, and going out +to give it to the messenger. "I don't think it is worth while to waste +monograms and London paper on such matters as these." + +"What sudden thrift! Where are the children?" + +"I am going to look for them," said Missy, drawing on her gloves. "I +want to get them out of the way, and keep them safe, till the hegira is +over. I haven't much faith in Mr. Andrews' having the nerve to do it; +but perhaps I don't do him justice. If they are not all got off by the +noon train to-day, I shall know it will never be done." + +Missy carried the children out with her in the pony-wagon; she even took +Mr. Andrews' intentions to be so probable of execution, that she went +two or three miles inland to see the woman whom she had fixed upon in +her own mind, as the successor to Alphonsine in the care of the +children. She even stopped at the tin-man's, in the village, to get the +address of a good substantial cook, whom she knew to be out of place, +who had a settled reputation for bread-baking, and an honorable record +in the matter of soup. She did not say for whom she wanted her--she was +a little ashamed of taking it for granted, that her advice would be +acted upon. All the same, it was as well to be prepared. She even drove +to a house in one of the bye-streets of the village, to see if a certain +Ellen, whose black eyes and white aprons had always met her approval, +was still out of a situation. All these were at her command--cook, +waitress, and nurse. It was fascinating to have everything go so smooth. +How delightful to have your own way; how heavenly to make people carry +out your plans. Through it all there ran one little thread of doubt as +to the steadfastness of Mr. Andrews; this only gave the matter zest. She +felt as if it were quite a stirring little vaudeville; it wasn't worth +while to make tragedy out of it, and get angry if she were +disappointed--but altogether she liked it. She liked driving about with +her brisk little pony on a bright September morning like this, doing her +errands, giving her orders, having people come out smiling to their +gates to speak to her. She liked all this, even when it was only her own +errands she did, and her own ordinary housekeeping that she looked out +for. It was a pleasure to secure the best butter and the freshest eggs, +and to drive to pretty, cool-looking farm-houses for them; to go for +cornmeal and graham flour just ground, to a romantic-looking old mill by +the edge of the woods, where the drip of the water and the shade of the +trees made a perpetual cool. People who had things to sell were always +glad to see her, for she bought a great many things and paid a good +price for them. She was often called upon for favors and for advice, and +this pleased her. The sight of the pretty little carriage was a signal +for many an inhabitant of farm-house or village, to come out to the +roadside and have a consultation with the young lady who drove it. She +was a favorite, and it is pleasant to be important--and to have your own +way. She generally had hers, even about other people's matters, for it +was a very good way, and a good way presented in such a manner as was +convincing. Of course, she had her disappointments; the clam-man's +daughter did, on one occasion, marry the scallop-man's son, against her +advice--but they came to such speedy grief, that it more than consoled +her. The miller's wife was not willing, last Spring, to listen to reason +about her butter, and so had lost all market for it among the people who +paid high prices, and had to carry it, finally, to the "store," and take +what she could get for it. Missy lost the butter, but she had the +satisfaction of knowing, that the next year her advice would be promptly +taken. All these things were sweet to her, but how much sweeter it was +to be feeling that she was managing completely a household in which she +had no legitimate business to interfere; that she was putting to rout a +troop of worthless servants who had opposed her, and ill-treated her +darling Jay. Above all, that she was making a very weak-kneed master +stand firm. Oh, if she could be sure that he _would_ stand firm! It was +this doubt, that made her feel as if it were all genteel comedy, and +really quite exciting. + +The children were pretty good that morning, notwithstanding the orgies +of the night before. Gabrielle was subdued and a little ashamed, and +Jay's memory was not burdened with any remorse, nor had he missed his +sleep, nor omitted to make a very good breakfast in his new quarters. He +was burly and jolly and good as ever. He liked the drive, and the stops, +and the fresh cool breeze, and the bright September sunshine, and the +holding the whip in his hand. + +The roadside was bright with golden-rod and purple asters, the Virginia +creeper was turning red on the fences and over the trees where it had +flung itself; catbrier, shining and glossy, cedar dark and dusky, sumach +red and brown, all in mat and tangle of the luxuriant summer's growth, +clothed the banks that edged the road. Jay stretched out his hand to +catch the bright leaves when they passed near them; the bottom of the +carriage was filled with branches of red leaves, with bunches of +Michaelmas daisies and asters already withering in the sun. + +Missy looked at her watch; it was just noon. Her heart beat high. They +were on the road that led to the station. If the servants were sent off +by the midday train, they must meet them in the course of a few +moments. She now began to doubt whether it had not all fallen through. +It was impossible to say how she despised Mr. Andrews when she thought +it might be that he had given in. Every rod of road they passed over +added to this conviction. She looked at her watch again. If they did not +meet them within five minutes there was no further hope. + +"What's the matter, Missy; why do you pull the pony so?" said Jay, +looking up into her face. They were going down a hill, where the road +was narrow, deep and sandy. At this moment they heard the lumbering, and +caught sight of a heavy vehicle coming up the hill towards them. + +"It's the stage!" cried Gabby, growing interested. "And there's Léon, +and there's Bridget, and there's Alphonsine, and all of 'em." + +Jay at this news set up a great shout, and started to his feet. + +"Sit down, Jay," cried Missy; "don't you see there isn't room for the +stage to pass. I tell you to be quiet." Missy had her hands full in +managing Jay, and getting the pony out of the road, with his head up +into the bushes. This was the only part of the narrow road where they +could pass, so she had to draw up on one side, and wait while the heavy +stage crawled up the hill. The information was soon telegraphed through +the gloomy ranks, which presented a sullen front. The stage was driven +by one Moses, who had always driven it since any one could remember. He +sat bent up like a bow, with years of long and lazy driving; his hat +pushed a little back on his head. He nodded indifferently to Missy. It +was all he did to any one, so no one could complain. Beside him sat +Léon, dark and scowling; behind them sat Michael, red and wrathful; +behind him again, the dismissed cook, laundress, nurse, and last of all, +Alphonsine. It was the wreck of a household, indeed. Missy felt a +momentary elation when she saw them all together. She had not realized +how many there were, before, and to what a complete rout she had put +them. It was rather awkward, drawing up by the roadside, and having them +all pass in review before her, as it were; but it could not be +helped--the condition of a Long Island road never can be helped. A heavy +wagon, driven by one of the sons of Moses, the stage-driver, filled with +the trunks of the departing servants, crawled on after the stage. The +boy was rather rakish-looking; he sat on one of the trunks and smoked a +very bad cigar, which he was not at the pains to remove from his mouth +when he approached the lady. She glanced quickly at the trunks, and a +wandering wish passed through her mind that she might see the inside of +them, and estimate roughly the degree to which the master had been +plundered. She cast her eyes down after this, or only allowed them to +rest on her pony, who did not like being crowded up into the bushes, and +did not stand quite still. It is very possible that all might have gone +well, if Jay could have behaved himself decently; but his old wrath +returned when he saw Michael, and saw him from a friend's side. + +"Hurrah!" he shouted, getting on his feet on the seat. "Hurrah! You have +got sent away, and it was because you got drunk, and was bad yesterday, +and I am glad of it, I am." + +Michael was too angry and too much the worse for the last night's +revel, to control himself. "You little devil," he cried, and shook his +fist at the boy. + +Even then, if the boy could have been subdued, it is possible that the +habit of decent silence before their betters, would have kept them all +quiet till they were out of hearing of the party in the pony carriage. +They all knew or suspected that Missy was their enemy, but she was +dignified, and no word had ever broken their habit of respect to her. +She flushed up and tried to keep Jay quiet, and did not look towards the +stage, now floundering through the sand alongside. But she had also the +pony to keep under, and he required both hands. Jay did not like to be +called a little devil, and there was no one to stop him, except by +counsel, which he did not ever much regard; he made a dash with the +whip, and lurching forward, struck towards Michael with all his small +might. The end of the lash, fine and stinging, reached that person's +red, and sun-scorched cheek. + +"I'll teach you to call me little devil," cried Jay, as he dealt the +blow. + +A howl of rage escaped the man, though it must have hurt him very +little. He made a spring for Jay. The stage was going so slowly it was +not difficult for him to leap from it and land beside the little +carriage. Moses pulled up, much interested. Moses' son, behind, pulled +up, interested quite as much. Michael caught the boy with a fierce hand. +Missy leaned forward, exclaiming, "Don't touch the child. I forbid you. +Don't touch him, unless you want to get yourself in trouble!" + +A chorus of indignation burst from the crew in the stage. Michael, +backed by this, shook the child fiercely in her very lap, boxed his +ears, with one brutal hand after the other, and then hurled him back +upon her, and swung himself into the stage again. A shower of coarse and +horrid words assailed poor Missy's ears, as she caught him in her +disengaged arm. It had never been her luck before to be assailed by an +Irish tongue, loosed from the decency of servitude. She had never had +"words" with any of her mother's servants. This was quite a new +experience. She was white to her fingers' ends. Jay did not cry. He was +white too. Not cowed, but overpowered by brute strength, and stunned by +the blows he had got. Missy never knew exactly what they said; some +horrid words always stuck in her memory, but it was all a confused +hideous jumble besides. The women's tongues were the worst, their voices +the shrillest, the things they said the ones that stuck in the memory +most. Moses was so interested he sat open-mouthed and gazed and +listened. His son, infinitely delighted, gazed and listened too. At +last, Missy found voice to say, above the general babel: + +"Moses, will you drive on, and let me pass? You will lose the train if +you don't go at once." + +This recalled to him the fact that he had the mail-bag at his feet, and +losing the train meant losing the patronage of the Government of the +United States. + +"By Jingo, that's a fact!" said Moses, gathering up the reins, and +calling out "gee-up" to the lean horses, who had been very glad to rest. +The stage lumbered on, and left the pony-carriage free to move, after +the baggage-wagon should have passed. But the baggage-wagon was driven +by Moses' son, and he had no desire to shorten or renounce the fun. He +did not carry the United States mail. He was probably not unfamiliar +with Billingsgate, and was not shocked, only pleasantly excited, by the +language employed. He even hurrahed a little, and laughed, and struck +his hands upon his knees, as Jay was pitched back into the carriage, +white and silenced. He liked a fight exceedingly, he did--any kind of a +fight. + +As the stage moved on, and the viragoes leaned back and shook their +fists at the little carriage, and the two men roared back their +imprecations at it, he had not the heart to move on, and let the pony +out into the road. He knew how the little beast would dash away out of +sight down the hill, under Miss Rothermel's whip; they would be out of +hearing in a second. No, he couldn't do a thing like that. It wasn't in +him to spoil a fight. He laughed, and threw himself astride of the +trunk, but didn't touch the reins, and didn't stir a step aside from +blocking up the road. So it was that Missy got the full force of the +parting maledictions; so it was that she got the full tide of Irish, +mixed with the finer-grained shafts of French invective; so it was that +she knew that Alphonsine had read the little note that she had sent in +that morning to the relenting master, and that she was assured that she +had made an enemy for life. + +"We'll be aven wid ye yet!" cried Bridget. + +"Mademoiselle shall hear from the 'worst of them all' again," sneered +Alphonsine, darting a malignant look at her, from under her dark brows. + +Then, and not till then, did the young driver of the luggage-wagon +"gee-up" to his horses and move on, puffing the smoke from his +villainous cigar into the faces of the pony-carriage party, as he passed +them, and looking infinitely content as he jolted on. He was not aware +that he had done anything insolent or malicious. He did not know that +the smell of his cigar, and the keen amusement of his look, had been the +last, and perhaps most cutting, of the insults she had received. These +wretches who had just disappeared from her presence were strangers and +foreigners, so to speak; but this low boy represented her home, her +village, her place of influence. Poor Missy! that was a bitter hour. Her +vaudeville was ending in a horrid rout and rabble; she was sore and sick +with the recollection of it. She had been dragged through the mud on the +field where she had felt sure of triumph. What was the triumph, compared +to the mud? She had succeeded in having them sent away; but they had +humiliated her, oh! most unspeakably. The degradation of having to +listen to such words, and to sit, impotent and silent before them, while +they raged and reviled her! + +The pony dashed down the hill. They were out of sight of the place of +their defeat in a moment of time; but she felt as if never, never could +she get out of sight of their leering faces, out of hearing of their +horrid words. + +When they were at the bottom of the hill and had turned into the main +road, Jay began to recover from the shock and fright, and to tremble and +cry. Gabrielle never took her eyes off Missy's face; she was full of +speculation, but such experiences were not as new to her as to Missy. +She, however, remembered, almost as well as Missy did, all those +insolent words, and, though not understanding them fully, kept them in +mind, and interpreted them in the light of events. + +"Don't cry, Jay," Missy said mechanically. But she was so shaken she +could scarcely speak. She wanted to get home and think it over; to get +out of day-light, to get breath and recover her voice again, and her +self-respect, her power of feeling herself a lady. + +Jay's continued crying tortured her; Gabby's eyes on her face angered +her. She was trembling all over. She had not made up her mind about +anything, only that everything was horrid and degrading, and that she +wished she had never seen or heard of any of the name of Andrews--even +little Jay. + +As they approached the gate she saw that Mr. Andrews was walking slowly +up and down before his house, evidently watching for them. She tried to +drive quickly and pass him with a bow, but he came up beside them as +they passed through the gate, and she had to pull up the pony and go +slowly. He walked beside the carriage and took Jay's hand, which was +stretched out to him. + +"Well, I've got them all off," he said, with a sigh of relief. + +"We saw 'em all," cried Gabby, always glad to impart information. "We +saw 'em all; and, oh, such a time as we have had!" + +"Michael beat me, and beat me," burst out Jay, quite broken down at the +thought of being sympathized with. + +"And, oh, the things they said to Missy!" exclaimed Gabby. + +"And he called me a little devil, and I'll kill him!" cried Jay, +beginning to sob. + +While these side-lights were being thrown upon the occurrence, Mr. +Andrews looked anxiously at Missy, who was growing red and white, and +trembling very visibly. + +"Be silent, children," he said impatiently. "You have had some trouble, +Miss Rothermel, I am afraid." + +By this time they had reached the house; Missy threw down the reins, +which Mr. Andrews caught. + +"I hope nothing has happened to distress you," he said. + +She did not wait to give Jay to his father, but getting out very +quickly, and not noticing the hand that he offered her, said, in a voice +not very steady, "I don't want to talk about it. It makes me ill to +think of it. Call Peters, won't you, to take away the pony," ran up the +steps and disappeared into the house. In another minute she would have +cried. + +He took the children out and drove the pony up to the stable. The +children followed him, and he spent half an hour with them on the beach, +trying to extract from them the history of the morning. It was rather +difficult to get at the facts, but he got at enough to make him feel +much disturbed in mind. The servant soon came down to take the children +in to dinner, and to ask him to come in, too. But this he declined, +wisely judging that his presence would not be very welcome now. He went +back to his empty house, put the key in his pocket, and drove down to +the village inn to get something to eat. + +Late in the afternoon he went back to Mrs. Varian's, to ask for the +counsel which had been before so freely offered him. He felt quite +helpless, and could not move a step in reconstructing his household till +he had been told what to do. The afternoon was quite clear, and since +the sun had set, the fire on the hearth in the library looked very +cheerful. The servant let him into that room. There he found the +children playing together a game of checkers, and Goneril watching them. +Ann went up-stairs to summon Miss Rothermel, but returned presently to +say that Miss Rothermel was lying down with a severe headache, and +begged that Mr. Andrews would excuse her. Miss Varian, who was in the +adjoining parlor, dozing in a big arm-chair, roused at the sound of +voices, and called to Goneril to come and lead her into the library. It +was always an amusement to have a visitor, and she asked Mr. Andrews to +sit down again, which he was very ready to do--his own house at present +being a very uncheerful place to sit down in. She chatted briskly with +him, and praised the children liberally. This surprised the children, +who stopped their game to listen. They were much more used to hearing +themselves scolded by Miss Varian. Then she came to the condition of his +household, and asked him many questions. He was obliged to be very +frank, and to tell her that he had sent the servants all away, according +to Miss Rothermel's advice, and that now he was waiting further orders. + +"Well, it's too bad," cried Miss Varian, with a laugh. "Missy has got +you into this fix, and she's bound to help you out of it. I won't hear +to her going to bed, and leaving you to starve. Why, what a predicament +you're in! Where did you get your dinner?" + +Mr. Andrews said he had had a very fair meal at the hotel, and seemed +anxious to make the best of his position. "But who milks the cows, and +takes care of things at the stable? Horses can't be locked up like +chairs and tables." + +"Oh!" answered Mr. Andrews, "Peters has found a very decent man for me. +I feel quite satisfied about the horses and cows; and if it were not for +imposing these children upon you, I should not be in any trouble about +the house. It's more comfortable now than it has been for some time, I +assure you." + +"All the same," said Miss Varian, "there is no sense in your being kept +in this unsettled state, just because Missy chooses to set up a +headache. It's a new thing for her; she isn't the kind of young woman +that goes to bed with a headache whenever she's put out. It's a wonder +to me what has happened to disturb her. She was well enough at +breakfast, but wouldn't come down to her dinner. I never knew her to +stay away from dinner for a headache, or any such nonsense before. +Goneril shall go up and see why she can't come down." + +"I beg you won't take any trouble about it," said Mr. Andrews, much +disturbed. "I am sure she is ill, she looked very pale. I would not have +her annoyed for anything. If it is not asking too much of you all, to +bear with the children, I will try to get some kind of a household +together to-morrow. I have no doubt I could hear of some one in the +village, or I could go to the city in the morning and get some at an +office." + +"Heaven forbid!" cried Miss Varian, fervently. "That would break Missy's +heart, for she has been longing to get these creatures away. And you +wouldn't be likely to get any better. You know men are always imposed +upon." + +"That is true," said Mr. Andrews, with a sigh. + +"Missy went to see about a cook this morning," put in Gabrielle, who had +renounced her game and crept up to hear the talking. "And a waitress +too. She said she had heard of a place for them, but she didn't say +where. Maybe it was for you, papa." + +"Maybe," said her father, absently. + +"Alphonsine said in the stage this morning that she seemed to take a +great interest in your affairs, you know." + +"Hush!" said her father, with emphasis. + +"How's that? Who's Alphonsine? Your nurse? And what did she say?" asked +Miss Varian, with keen interest. + +"Some impertinence of the servants after they were sent away, I +suppose," said Mr. Andrews, threatening Gabrielle with a look. + +"Did Missy hear it?" asked Miss Varian, persisting. + +"Papa says I mustn't tell," returned Gabrielle, hesitating. + +"Oh," said Miss Varian, sharply. "It is always well to obey one's +father." + +"Gabrielle makes a great deal out of a very little," said Mr. Andrews, +suppressing his annoyance. "She has had the misfortune to be a great +deal thrown upon the care of servants. I shall be glad to get her into +different ways." + +"She ought to be sent to boarding-school," said Miss Varian. + +"I am afraid you are right; I must look about for a school for her in +the course of the next few months." + +Gabrielle gave Miss Varian a very bitter look, but Miss Varian was none +the worse for that. Mr. Andrews now arose to go, but Miss Varian +protested he should not go till Missy had sent down the addresses of the +persons she had recommended. + +"I won't have you kept in such a state for anybody's caprice," she said, +sending Goneril up with a message. And then Mr. Andrews knew that Miss +Varian did not love her step-niece. + +"Missy is very fond of managing," she said. "She must understand she +can't lay down the reins whenever she chooses. She must carry out what +she undertakes." + +Goneril was gone a very long time, it seemed to Mr. Andrews; he really +thought he was having a great deal of petticoat government. If it were +not for the two children, he would have got clear of the whole sex, he +thought. He would have taken bachelor apartments, and had not even a +chamber-maid. He would have gone to a club for his meals, and not have +spoken to a woman from year's end to year's end. But there was poor +little Jay, with his tawny hair all unkempt, and his saucy sister with +her sash ends in a tangle; for their sakes he must be grateful to these +kind and dictatorial friends. Certainly he could not do without women +while he had those two to care for. He must get used to women, he +supposed; get to be half a woman himself; learn how to keep house; be a +perfect Betty. He groaned, patiently, while Miss Varian kept up a brisk +talk about his matters. + +At last Goneril came back. Goneril was much interested in his matters +too. She was so much interested, and so zealous, that he was quite +abashed. He wondered how many more women would be needed to put his +affairs _en train_. Goneril was a very tall, well-built woman, with an +energetic tread. She had her own views on most matters, and was not +withheld from uttering them by any false delicacy about a menial +position. Wasn't she the daughter of an American farmer? So, when she +came down to deliver Miss Rothermel's message, she added many of her own +observations to the message, and quite bewildered Mr. Andrews. He did +not know which was the original text, and which the comment on it; and +Miss Varian's cross-fire did not render matters simpler. + +"Here's the names of the persons Miss Rothermel was speaking of," +Goneril said, giving him the paper; "and the places where you'll find +'em. But my opinion is, you'll have your trouble for your pains, if you +go hunting up Melinda Larkins. She'll never come to you. She won't +undertake to live in a family where there isn't anybody to look after +things. Things go wrong in every house, more or less; but where there's +only Help, the troubles are laid to the wrong door, and you never know +what you'll be accused of." + +"That is," said Miss Varian, sharply, "bad as a mistress is, it's worse +without a mistress." + +"I don't know anything about mistresses," retorted Goneril, with a toss +of the head. "People that you live with may call themselves anything +they like. That don't make 'em so. They might call themselves em-presses +and prin-cesses, but it wouldn't make 'em so." + +"And servants might call themselves Help, but that wouldn't make them +so. As long as they draw their wages for the work they do, they are +servants, and nothing more nor less than servants." + +Poor Mr. Andrews felt as if he had got into a very hot fire, and as if, +somehow, he were guilty of having lighted it. + +"I ought to be going to see about these--persons--I suppose; if I can +get them to-night it will be all the better," he said, rising, while the +discussion about titles was still raging. + +"Well, you won't get anybody on such short notice that's worth having," +Goneril interrupted herself to say. "Melinda Larkins wouldn't think of +taking a place, without going over to the island to see her folks about +it. She has some self-respect, if she is obliged to live out." + +"If she is obliged to go into service, you mean," said Miss Varian. +"There won't be much difficulty about your getting her, Mr. Andrews, I +am sure. All these people are very poor, and will do anything for +money." + +"Money isn't everything," began Goneril; but Mr. Andrews had got to the +hall. + +"I can but go and see about them," he said, as he made his bow. + +He heard a rage of tongues as he closed the door. He felt as if the +flames were shooting out after him and scorching his very eyebrows. + +He drew a long breath when he was out of hearing of the house, and under +the trees in the night air. What bliss a world without women would be. +Here he was embroiled with three, after his brave fight of the morning +too, which should have won him their applause. There was no pleasing +them, and their tongues--their tongues. Pleased or displeased, he asked +nothing better than to get away from them. He thought for a rash moment +that he would steal Jay and go away with him to some monastery, and +leave Gabby to her fate. But, poor little Gabby, he was sorry for her, +even if she did love to impart information and to make mischief. Yes, he +must stay by them, poor little mites, and try to help them out of their +dismal plight. So he went to the stable, and saddled his horse, and +threw a severe order or two to the decent man, of whom he was not +afraid. + +Then he rode into the jaws of fate, to see Melinda Larkins, who couldn't +make up her mind in a minute; to see the one proposed as nursery maid, +who wasn't in; to see the waitress, who asked him a great many questions +that he couldn't answer. "What part of the wash would be hers? What +evening could she have? Who was to get tea Sunday when the cook was out? +Was there to be a regular dinner for the children in the middle of the +day, and a regular dinner again at night?" + +To all these questions, and many more as puzzling, Mr. Andrews could +give no well considered answer. He felt the necessity of appearing to +know a little about the ordering of his household; his dealings with men +had taught him that ignorance is fatal to authority, and strangely and +sadly as the sexes differed, there must be some general points of +resemblance. It would not do to let this trim young creature, with her +black eyes and her white apron, respectful as yet, standing at the gate +in an attitude of attention, know that he had never known who did the +wash in his house, or whether there was a regular dinner in the middle +of the day, or whether the cook ever went out, or how many evenings +belonged to the waitress. He said rather lamely that he had only come to +see if she were disengaged; he had not time to talk these details over. +If she were at liberty, she might come the next morning at ten, and he +would make final arrangements with her. + +She respectfully consented to this, but it is highly probable that she +saw through the maneuver, and knew that "time" was what her future +master wanted, and that there was a good deal in her catechism that was +new to him. He knew, or feared this knowledge on her part, and went +slowly away on his milk-white steed, much humbled and perplexed. + +The decent man took his horse and cared for it, but he let himself into +the house with a feeling of his helplessness. He had matches, thanks to +being a smoker, but he did not know how to fill a lamp, and of course +all the lamps were empty. Every one knows that a candle does not give a +cheerful light in a wide room. So he tried two candles, but they blinked +at each other feebly, they were almost worse than one. It was almost +impossible to read the evening paper; he would conclude it was time to +go to bed. So he poured himself out a glass of wine, not having the +heart (or the chance) to eat a meal, and went up-stairs. His bed had not +been made; there was no water in the pitchers. The windows had been +closed, and the room was not fresh. He made up his mind that he could +not sleep there; he went into another room, entering into a calculation +how many nights the beds would last, and when he should have to take to +the sofas. + +Another day dawned on this anarchy. He had no hot water for his shaving; +he did not know where fresh towels were, the keys of the closets being +all at the bottom of the cistern. (A parting shot of malice from +Alphonsine, though he did not know it.) After a wretched bath, with +towels in which he had no confidence, he went out into the damp morning, +and getting on his horse, went down to the village barber, and then to +the village inn for breakfast. + +"This thing must not go on any longer," he said with firmness--but what +use was there in being firm? He was helpless. What part of the wash +_did_ the waitress do? And what would bring Melinda Larkins to decision? +And what questions would the nursery-maid elect be likely to ask him? He +ground his teeth. A plague upon them all. He had made a fortune and lost +it with less rack of brain than this business had occasioned him. If +Miss Rothermel only would get over her little temper and come forward to +the rescue. He couldn't blame her for being so indignant, but she +needn't have vented it on him, who was not in the least to blame. There +was the waitress coming at ten, and he had no answers to give her to her +questions. He had not the face to go to the Varians' house again, +indeed, he had not the courage, for Miss Varian and her iron maid were +more likely to confront him than Missy was, who mightn't yet be through +with her headache. + +He rode slowly back from the village after breakfast, reflecting deeply. +As he turned into the stable, he saw the welcome sight of Missy, in her +shade-hat, going into the greenhouse, with a basket and some scissors. +If he could only get her to talk to him for five minutes, all might be +got into right shape. But what sort of a humor was she in? She had not +the children with her--that was a bad sign. The dampness of the early +morning had passed away, and the sun had come out bright, though the +dew was thick on the grass. He hurried across the lawn and entered the +garden. Missy was busy at the door of the greenhouse, with a vine that +seemed not to meet her approbation. Her basket stood at her feet, +half-full of the late blooming flowers that she had picked in the garden +as she came along. + +"Good morning, Miss Rothermel," said Mr. Andrews, rather irresolutely, +pausing behind her. She had not heard his approach, and started. He felt +that it was unwarrantable, his coming in this way into the garden; but +starvation and perplexity and want of shaving-water will drive a man to +almost anything. If he had gone to the house she would have refused to +see him. If she refused to speak to him now, he should simply hang +himself. She looked quite haughty as she faced him; but he looked so +troubled and so humbled, it was impossible to be haughty long. + +"I hope you'll excuse my coming to bother you again," he said; "but upon +my word, I don't know how I am going to get my matters straight without +some help from you. I know it is quite unjustifiable, and you have quite +a right to tell me so." + +"No," said Missy, with rigid honesty, "I offered you my advice. I +remember that quite well. I have only myself to blame if you give me any +trouble." + +"And I am sure I needn't tell you how very sorry I am about the +occurrence of yesterday. I would have done anything to have saved you +that annoyance." + +But Mr. Andrews saw that he'd better have left the subject alone. All +the softening vanished from her expression. + +"No one was to blame for that," she said. "It need never be thought of +again." But it was evident the recollection of it had put her back into +her armor. + +Mr. Andrews felt a momentary indignation at her injustice; but his +straits were too sore for him to cherish indignation. "If it were not +for the children," he said, "I would close the house at once, and go +away. Gabrielle would be better off perhaps at boarding-school; but Jay +is such a baby. Still, I suppose that might not be a difficulty." + +"He does seem rather young to send among strangers," she replied coldly, +snipping down a fading branch of the climbing rose, and throwing it +aside. + +"But on some accounts, as I was saying to you the other day, I would +much prefer keeping them together, and having them with me for the +present." + +"It would be pleasanter, perhaps," said Miss Rothermel, with distant but +faint interest. + +"What I want to ask you," he went on desperately, "is whether you think +a household could be kept together, with any comfort or profit to the +children, without any greater knowledge and experience on my part. I +mean," he said confusedly, "could they get on without a governess, or a +housekeeper, or some one to be at the head of affairs? Could three or +four women get on, that is, without some one in authority over them?" + +"Why, what is to prevent you from being in authority over them?" said +Missy, almost contemptuously. "That is, if you are willing to take the +trouble of thinking about things." + +"I am very willing to think about things, but I am sorry to say I am so +ignorant that my thoughts are not likely to be profitable." + +"Knowledge is power," said Missy, clipping another dry leaf off. + +"That is very true, Miss Rothermel," he said, with a smile. "I am sure +you feel yours. But be good enough to help me. Tell me, to begin with, +what I am to say to the waitress, who is to come to see me in half an +hour. She asks me questions that I don't know how to answer." + +"Well, what are some of them, pray?" + +"Why, as we are not to keep a laundress, what part of the washing she +must do?" + +"The fine clothes, of course." + +"I don't believe we have any fine clothes in the house. I think +everything is very plain." + +"Oh, that is a technical expression. It means the starched clothes. Say +that to her and she'll understand. The cook is to do the coarse +washing." + +"Ah, yes; I see. Well, she wants to know about dinner--am I to have a +regular dinner, and are the children to have a regular dinner in the +middle of the day? Now, what does a regular dinner mean when a waitress +talks about it? and what ought the children to have for their dinner?" + +"Why, it means," said Missy, "are the children to have scraps and a +jumbled-up lunch, all on the table together--or, are they to have soup, +and a nice steak, and some vegetables, and a pudding, and fare like +Christians. I _hope_ you settled that question for her." + +"I will settle it, now that I know what she means. Thank you. And what +wages is she to have? And who is to serve tea on Sunday nights? And how +often must she go out; and when she goes out who is to do her work?" + +"Tell her she is to go out every other Sunday, and the cook is to serve +tea in her place on that night. And one evening in the week she can go +out. And as the nurse will go out on one evening also, she must arrange +with her what that evening shall be. And on the nurse's evening out, she +must sit up stairs and look after the children." + +"Thank you. That looks plainer. I believe it was all she asked me. If I +see the woman you thought might do for nurse, what questions will she be +likely to ask me?" + +"Why, I don't know; but you must be prepared to say, she is to do all +the mending, and take the entire charge of the children, and of their +clothes. And besides must teach them their letters and spelling every +day for an hour, and must assist in waiting on them at their meals, for +Jay needs some one every moment. But she is a sensible girl, and I am +sure you will have no trouble with her. She won't be likely to ask you +many questions." + +"I am glad of that," said Mr. Andrews, growing lighter-hearted. "There +is one thing more. You feel certain, Miss Rothermel, that three women +can do the work? You know there have hitherto been five--" + +Miss Rothermel looked contemptuous again. "That depends," she said, +"entirely upon your wishes. Three women are all you need. You might have +eight, but I don't think they'd add to your comfort." + +"I am sure you are right," he said, apologetically. "All I mean is, will +they be coming to me every day or two and saying they have too much to +do, and excusing themselves in that manner for neglecting their work?" + +"That depends, again, upon what you say to them, if they do come. If you +never give in to any demands for more wages, and make them fully +understand that you mean to keep three servants in the house and no +more, you will not have any trouble. It will be an easy place; they will +be very glad to stay. These three that I have told you of, are all good +servants. I don't see any reason that Jay--that you all--I +mean--shouldn't be quite comfortable." + +Mr. Andrews knew very well that all her solicitude was for Jay. He did +not care, however. He was willing to get comfort, even over his son's +shoulder. + +"I can't tell you how much obliged to you I am," he said. "Your aunt's +maid has rather frightened me about my cook elect. Do you think there +will be any difficulty in getting her to consent to come?" + +"I don't know why there should be." + +"Perhaps, if you would say a word to her, she might be influenced." + +Missy grew lofty at once. She had evidently washed her hands of the +matter. + +"I don't know anything to say to her to induce her to come if she is not +induced by the prospect of a good home and good wages. She will probably +come." + +"And the nurse; is she not a sort of protegée of yours? Perhaps if you +would kindly give her some idea of her duties it might help her." + +This Mr. Andrews said maliciously, for he had a man's contempt for +caprice, and he could see nothing but caprice in Miss Rothermel's +washing her hands of his affairs. Two days ago she had advised him, +urged him, made up his cabinet for him. And now she only tolerated an +allusion to the subject. It was not his fault that the servants she had +made him send away had been saucy to her. He was not inclined to submit +to such airs (now that he had got his questions answered and there was a +reasonable prospect of hot water and clean towels). + +"She is not a protegée of mine at all," returned Missy. "All I know +about her, however, is in her favor. She will, I think, take good care +of the children. She will take her instructions best from you, and she +has intelligence enough to fill up details of which you are ignorant +necessarily." + +Mr. Andrews bowed, and Missy filled up the gap in the conversation by +snipping off some more dead leaves. There seemed really nothing for him +to do but to go away, and he was just preparing to do this when the +children rushed upon the scene. Jay pounced upon Missy, and nearly threw +her down; she looked slight and small, stretching up her arm to a high +branch of the vine, and the little ruffian probably felt his superiority +and used it. + +"You are a naughty boy," she said, picking up her hat and the scissors +which he had thrown to the ground, but she did not say it very severely. + +"Why did you go away without me?" he said, kicking at her glove, which +lay upon the gravel walk. + +"Because I didn't want you," she returned. + +Gabrielle had crept up to her father, and was eying Missy and Jay with +sidelong observation. "Jay said something very bad this morning," she +said, including her father in her circuitous glance. Her father +naturally felt suspicious of Gabrielle's information; it was generally +of a nature far from pleasing. He therefore passed over her remark +without notice, and putting out his hand to Jay, said, "Well, you +haven't spoken to me this morning. I think you have forgotten that you +haven't seen me." + +"Holloa! how are you?" cried Jay, catching at his father's hand with +both his, and trying to climb up his leg. His hat fell off in the +exertion, and his yellow hair, fresh from Goneril's brushing, blew about +in the breeze. + +"He said he didn't want to go home to you, papa," persisted Gabrielle. + +"He didn't! there's affection for you," said the father, carelessly, +with both hands now holding the boy, who chose to walk up him. + +"He said--" and now Missy began to tremble. "He said he wouldn't go away +from Missy." + +"Thank you, Jay," said Missy, looking at the boy with a bright smile, +and some relief. "They'd better let you stay with me if that's the way +you feel." + +"O no," cried the little viper, "we couldn't spare Jay. You could do +like Alphonsine said you wanted to do, come to our house and live with +us, and have things all your own way. You know she said that was what +you were working for. Don't you remember, Missy? Just before Moses +started up the horses." + +Jay had made the ascent of his father and stood in triumph on his +shoulder. Mr. Andrews with a rapid movement put him on the ground, made +a step forward and brought his hand with force on Gabrielle's cheek, a +hard stinging blow that made the child scream with pain and amazement, +for he had never struck her before. + +"Never repeat to me the words of servants," he said, in a voice terrible +to her, and severe enough in the ears of others, especially little Jay, +who looked awe-struck. There was a seat outside the greenhouse door, and +on this Missy had sunk down, trembling all over. She opened her lips and +tried to speak, but literally she could not, the sudden agitation had +taken away her voice. Meanwhile Gabrielle had found hers, and was crying +passionately, very angry at the blow, and very sure too, that crying was +the way to get the better of her father. But this time she was mistaken. +He took her hand almost roughly. + +"Come with me," he said. "I have something more to teach you." + +His voice was rather unsteady from anger, his face flushed, and his eye +stern. No wonder Gabrielle's cry sank into a frightened whimper, as she +followed, or was half dragged away by her father. Jay ran up to Missy, +and tried to climb into her lap. With an impulse that the poor little +fellow could not understand, of course, she pushed him away. It was the +first repulse he had ever had from her: though he was still in +petticoats, his pride and wounded affection were strong; he would not +wait for a second rebuff. He started down the path, crying, Papa. Missy +saw him overtake his father as he crossed the lawn, and cling to his +hand, hardly able to keep up with his rapid walk. And so, with a child +in each hand, he passed out of the gate and disappeared from Missy's +sight. + +She sat still for a few minutes, and tried to collect her thoughts. She +felt as if some one had given her a blow on _her_ ear, and sent all the +blood tingling to her brain. Finally she got up, picked up Jay's hat, +which he had left on the field, and the scissors, and the basket, which +had been overturned in the mêlée. She put the flowers back into it, +angry and ashamed to see how her hand shook, and shutting the greenhouse +door, slowly went out of the garden. Where should she go to get away +from every one, and be by herself for a little while? If she went to the +beach, hither the children might come in a few moments. If to the lawn, +she was a fair mark for visitors and servants, and the walk through the +cedars would bring all back--the interview there three days ago, whence +all her troubles dated. Her own room was the best place for her. + +She put down the flowers in the hall, and went up stairs under a running +fire from Goneril, Aunt Harriet and her mother, dispersed about the +lower rooms and hall. + +It is astonishing how much unnecessary talking is done in a house, how +many useless questions asked, how many senseless observations made. Just +be very unhappy, overstrained or anxious, and you will find out how many +idle words are spoken in an hour, if you happen to be bearing your +burden among happy, unstrained, and careless people. + +It seemed to Missy, calling out her answers in as brave a voice as she +could, going through the house, that never were questions so useless, +observations so senseless. + +"Where are you going?" was among the last of her mother's. + +"To my room; and don't let me be disturbed, please. I want to be quiet +for awhile." + +"Another headache?" cried Aunt Harriet from the hall below. "Really, +this is becoming serious. I never knew you were capable of headaches." + +"Thank you," said Missy, shutting her door and sliding the bolt. She sat +down in a chair by the window and gazed out; but she did not see the +soft velvet of the lawn, nor the blue dimples of the bay against which +the great trunks of the trees stood out. + +There were some sails flitting about in the fresh wind, but she did not +see them. She was trying to collect her thoughts and get over that blow +on the ear that she felt as if she had had. It was new to her not to go +to her mother and confide her trouble; but this was a sort of +humiliation she could not bring herself to talk about. She excused +herself by saying it would only distress mamma. It would have distressed +mamma's daughter so much to have given words to it that she never even +allowed to herself that it might be a duty. It was all a punishment, she +said to herself, for having received on terms of kindness a man who had +behaved so to his wife; that was a breach of friendship. It was +something to bear in silence, to be hushed up, and forgotten, if it +could be, even by herself. She wished that she might go away. + +She got up and walked across the room--impulsively. Then sat down again, +with the bitter reflection that it was only men who could go away. Women +have to sit down and bear their disappointments, their mortifications, +their defeats; to sit down in the sight of them and forget them if they +can. Men can pack their tender sensibilities into their valises, and go +off and see that the world is wide, and contains other subjects of +thought and interest than the ones they have been brooding over. + +Go away! No indeed; she laughed bitterly when she thought of the +commotion that would result from the mentioning such a plan. St. John +might walk in any day, and say he was going on a journey. No one would +question his right to go, or his right to decline giving any reasons for +so going. He was seven years younger than she was, but he was free. She +must account for all her goings, her doings; even the people in the +village would sit in judgment on her, if she did anything that was not +clearly explained to them and proved expedient. No--she was tied, bound +to Yellowcoats. All their plans were laid to remain at home for the +winter. + +Since St. John had come to the parish, they had decided it was +unnecessary to make their annual change; Missy had not cared for the +winter in town, Mrs. Varian had been glad to be let off from it, Aunt +Harriet had submitted to give it up. So here she was to stay, and here +it was possible the Andrews' would stay, and here she must daily see the +children and pass the house, and be reminded that she had been insulted, +and had been a fool. It would be the village talk. All her past dignity +and her grand disdain of lovers would pass for nothing. She had never +entered the lists with other young women; she had prided herself on her +determination not to marry. "I am not in commission," she would say +loftily to the younger girls, making the most of her age. + +The few suitors who, so far, had come to her, had been detestable to +her. She did not deserve much credit for rejecting them, but she took a +good deal to herself, feeling sure that she would, in the same way, have +discarded princes. Of course, she had had her dreams about true love, +but she had early decided that that was not to come to her, and that +she had a different sort of life to live. Being very fond of plans and +arrangements of all kinds, it was a great satisfaction to her to feel +she was building up the sort of life that she was intended for, that she +was daily adding to its usefulness and symmetry. My will be done, she +was saying, unconsciously, in her daily thought, if not in her morning +and evening prayer. Yes, it was a very beautiful, a very noble life she +was constructing, very devoid of self, she thought. She was living for +others; was not that fine? She was quite above the petty ambitions and +humiliations of her sex. She did not mean to marry, in deference to the +world's opinion, or in terror of its scorn. All the same, she knew very +well people held her very high, and were not ignorant that she could +have married well if she had chosen. She did not think that this was of +any importance to her, till she found what pain it gave her to think +that people would now be of a different mind. Had it come to this, that +it could be said she was only too ready to fall into the arms of a +month-old widower, stout and elderly! Yes, that was what the people in +the village--the gentlemen going down in the cars, the ladies in their +morning drives--would say. The scene with the stage load of servants +would be in possession of all these by to-morrow, if it were not so +to-day. She knew the ability of Yellowcoats to absorb news, as a sponge +absorbs water;--it would look very fair and dry, but touch it, squeeze +it, ah, bah. Yellowcoats could take in anything, from the smallest +detail to the most exaggerated improbability. She had spent her life in +Yellowcoats, and she knew it. From highest to lowest it craved a +sensation, and would sacrifice its best and choicest to fill up the +gaping vacancy. She knew how good the story was, she knew how much +foundation it seemed to have. What could she ever do to contradict it? +Nothing. No word of it would ever reach her ears. She would be treated +with the old deference, but she would know the laugh that underlaid it. +She had no chance of contradicting what no one would say to her. And in +action, what could she do? If she refused ever to see the children +again, declined abruptly all intercourse with their neighbors, it would +only be said, with more emphasis than ever, that she had met with sudden +discouragement; that the gentleman had become alarmed at her ardent +interest in his household matters, and had withdrawn abruptly from even +ordinary civilities. If she still went on as before, appearing daily +with the children in the carriage, taking them to church with her, it +would be said she was still pursuing the chase, was still cherishing +hopes of promotion. Whatever she did, it was all one. She couldn't +publish a card in the paper, she couldn't go about and tell people they +had been misinformed, when they didn't acknowledge to any information at +all. The only thing she could do was to marry some one else out of hand, +and that she felt she was almost prepared to do, if any one else were to +be had on a moment's notice. But all her few men were dead men, and +there was not a new one to be had for the wishing. + +It was surely a very trying situation, and Missy shed bitter tears about +it, and felt she hated, hated, hated this strange widower, whom she +persisted in calling stout and elderly, as if that were the worst thing +that a man could be. She knew him so slightly, she hated him so deeply. +What business had he to humiliate her so? Though, to do him justice, it +had not been his fault; he had only been the instrument of her +chastisement. These tantalizing thoughts were interrupted, in the course +of an hour, by Ann, bringing her a letter. Missy sat down to read it, +knowing it was from Mr. Andrews. + + "It seems fated," he wrote, "that you are to suffer for your + kindness to my children. It is needless for me to tell you how much + mortification I feel on account of my little girl's misconduct. I + am sure your kind heart has already made many excuses for her, and + has divined how great my chagrin is at finding her capable of such + wrong dispositions. I have to remind myself very often that her + life has been what it has, through no fault of hers, else I might + feel harshly towards her. I know very well that you will agree with + me that it is best that the children should trespass no more on + your hospitality, after the return that they have made. I have put + them into the nursery. The servant who has to come to see me this + morning, has engaged to return to me in an hour's time. I have no + doubt she will be capable of taking care of them till I can secure + the nurse and cook. At any rate, it is but just that you should be + free from them, and I beg you will have no further thought about + the matter, except to believe that I am deeply sorry for the + annoyance that your generosity has brought upon you. + + "Always faithfully yours, + + "JAMES ANDREWS." + + +Missy's first feeling after reading this was, that he had at least +behaved well about it, and had put things in the best shape for her. It +was the better way surely, for the children to stay away altogether now. +She felt she could not bear the sight of Gabrielle, and the chance of +having to meet Mr. Andrews himself was insupportable. Yes, it was the +best way, and she hoped that they might never, never cross each other's +paths again. + +Perhaps he would close the house and go away. She hoped her precious +protegées would not give him satisfaction, and then he would have to go +away. But then came second thoughts, soberer and less hopeful. Was it +best for the children to stay at home to-day? How explain to the +household, beginning with her mother, this sudden change of base? What +would Goneril say, the glib-tongued Ann, and all the rest? It looked +like a quarrel, a breach, a sensation. Gabrielle would be questioned +over the hedge; the whole story would get out. No; this would never do. +The children's clothes were in the drawers of the spare room, their +playthings all about the house. The packing these and sending them back +so abruptly, would be like a rocket shot into the sky, a signal of +sensation to all Yellowcoats. + +And then, proving how real her affection for Jay was, there came a +feeling of solicitude for him, shut up in that damp nursery. It always +had been damp, and she had disapproved it; the worst room in the house, +with trees close up to the window, and no sun in it. + +The house had been shut up for several days, and in September, that does +not do for country houses by the water. The Varians had fire morning and +evening, and Jay had been dressed every day since she had had the +charge of him, by a bright little blaze of pine and hickory. It would be +an hour before the woman came, and what would she get together for their +dinner. Some poor baker's bread, perhaps, and some sweetmeats. Jay, poor +little man, would be hungry before this time, she was sure. How he was +fretting and crying now, no doubt; kicking his little bare legs against +the chair. + +Missy yearned over him, and she thought, with a pang, how she had pushed +him away when he came climbing into her lap. If he were left there, with +no one to take proper care of him for two or three days, she knew +perfectly well he would be ill. His hands had been a little hot that +morning, with all the care that she had given him. To-day was Saturday. +It was not likely that the new women could be got into the house before +Monday. No, she could not put poor little Jay into all this danger, to +save her pride. So, after a good cry, the result of this softened +feeling, she wrote the following little note to Mr. Andrews: + +"I think you would do better to let the children come back and stay here +till Monday. By that time you will no doubt have the servants in the +house. When you are ready for them, please send me a few lines and I +will send Goneril in with them." + +She hoped she had made it plain that _he_ was to keep out of the way, +and as he had not merited stupid in addition to stout and elderly, she +felt quite confident he would understand. She began several sentences +which were meant to imply, from a pinnacle, that she did not blame him +for the stings of his little viper, and that no more need be said about +it. But none of them satisfied her, and she put the note into the +envelope without anything but the bare statement of facts recorded +above. Then she took Jay's hat, which she had brought in with her from +the garden, and calling Ann, told her to take the note and the hat in to +Mr. Andrews. + +"The children are there, I think," she added carelessly, in explanation. +"Jay ran off without his hat." + +She had bathed her eyes before she rang the bell, that Ann might not see +she had been crying. By and by Jay came in, accompanied by the new +waitress, who explained from her master that Miss Gabrielle was under +punishment and was not to have any dinner. She would come back at +bedside. Jay looked a little doubtfully at Missy. He had not forgotten +his repulse. When the woman had gone out of the door, she said, + +"Come Jay, I think we'd better be friends, old fellow," and taking him +in her arms, kissed him a dozen times. Jay felt as if a great cloud had +lifted off the landscape. Why had everybody been so horrid? There must +have been something the matter with people. He gave a great sigh as he +sank back in Missy's embrace, but only said, "I want some dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +PER ASPERA AD ASTRA. + + +The next day was Sunday, a chilly September day, threatening rain. Missy +quite wished it would rain, and then there would be an excuse for +omitting the children's church-going. But church time approached. It did +not rain, indeed, looked as if it were to be a prolonged sulk, and not a +burst of tears. So the carriage was ordered, the children made ready, +and Miss Varian and Goneril, armed with prayer-books, waited on the +piazza. The children looked very pretty in their mourning. Gabrielle was +so handsome, she repaid any care in dressing her, and Alphonsine had +really exerted herself to make up a pretty black dress, and trim a hat +for her. There is always something pathetic in the sight of young +children in mourning, and Missy had almost cried the first time she saw +Jay in his little black kilt and with that somber cap on his yellow +curls. She was quite used to it now, and did not feeling like crying +from anything but vexation, as she came out on the piazza when she heard +the carriage wheels approaching. She was going to church, to be sure, +and that ought to have been soothing to her feelings. But she was also +going to face the little populace of Yellowcoats, and that was very +ruffling to them. She felt it was a pity she could not make herself +invisible, and that her neighbors could not make themselves invisible +too. She was sure they would say better prayers if that could be the +case. How they would gaze at her as she walked down the aisle! How +glances would be exchanged, and nudges given, as the little black-clad +children came in sight. It is all very well to say, don't think of such +things if you know you're doing right. It takes a very advanced saint +not to mind what people think, and Missy, poor Missy, was not that. She +longed to say her prayers, and felt she had never needed to say them +more; but it was as if a thousand little devils, with as many little +prongs, were busy in a swarm around her. To add to all her fretting +thoughts, Aunt Harriet was particularly trying, Goneril was more +audacious, the children were exasperating, even sitting still and in +their Sunday clothes. + +As the carriage rolled up to the church gate, Missy felt her face +growing red and white with apprehension of the eyes that would in a +moment more be looking at it. The bell had stopped ringing, and she +heard the organ. Of all moments, this was the worst to go in. + +"What are you waiting for?" said Miss Varian, sharply, as Missy paused, +irresolute. + +"Nothing," said Missy with a groan, and she went forward, bidding the +children follow. Goneril, of course, was a dissenter, and had to be +driven to the other end of the village to say her humble prayers. I +think she objected to stopping even at the church gate, and to riding +with people who were going there. She always had a great deal to say at +the Sunday dinner, about forms and ceremonies and a free Gospel, but as +her fellow-servants were most of them of a more advanced creed +themselves, she did not get much sympathy, or do much injury to any +one. So Goneril went her way, and Missy, with her blind aunt on her +arm, and the children following in her wake, went hers. Certainly it was +the way of duty, or she never would have walked in it. If she had dared +to do it, she would have stayed from church that morning, and said +matins among the cedars on the bank. But as she did what was right and +what was hard, no doubt, her poor distracted prayers got an answer, and +her marred, distorted offering of worship was accepted. + +St. John was not yet in the chancel; they had fallen upon the moment +when they would naturally be most conspicuous and attract most notice +from the congregation. Miss Varian always would walk slowly and heavily; +the children gazed about them, and met many curious eyes. Missy looked +haughty enough; she was never particularly humble-looking. When they +reached the pew-door (and it seemed to Missy they would never reach it), +Miss Varian was a long while getting through the kneeling cushions, and +accepted no help from any one. + +"Well, I hope they all see the children and are satisfied of my +intentions," said Missy bitterly to herself, as she stood thus a mark +for the merry eyes of Yellowcoats. At last, Aunt Harriet made her way to +the end of the pew, and Missy followed her, letting the children take +care of themselves. + +St. John's voice; well, there was something in it different from other +voices. There must have been a dim and distant echo of that company who +rest not day nor night. It did not recall earth and vanity. It made a +lift in the thoughts of those who heard it. Missy, amidst distraction +and vexation, heard him, and in a moment felt that it was very little +worth, all that had caused her smart and ache. When St. John read, +people listened, whatever it was. Perhaps it was what is "sincerity" in +art. He read in a monotone too, as does his school. He did not lift his +eyes and look about him; he almost made a business of looking down. It +was very simple; but maybe those who would analyze its power, would have +to go far back into fasts and vigils and deep hours of meditation. Missy +drew a long breath. She didn't care for Yellowcoats' gossip now, while +she heard St. John's voice, and poured out her fretted soul in the +prayers of her childhood. Perhaps she never knew how much she owed her +brother, and those disapproved austerities of his. We do not always know +what the saints win for us, nor how much the fuller we may be for our +holy neighbor's empty stomach. And the children tumbled and twisted +about on their seats, and Jay went to sleep, and Gabby eyed her +neighbors, and Missy did not mind. It was well that she did not, for if +she had reproved them, Yellowcoats would have whispered, what a +step-mother is that, my brothers. And if she had caressed them, they +would have jeered and said, see the pursuit, my sisters. But as she +simply let them alone, they could say nothing, and settled themselves to +listen to the sermon after the prayers were said. + +And in the sermon there was a word for Missy. It was an old word, as +most good words are; Missy remembered copying it out years before, when +it had seemed good to her, but now it seemed better and fuller: + +"Let nothing disturb thee, nothing surprise thee: + +"Everything passes: + +"God does not change: + +"Patience alone weareth out all things: + +"Whoso holds fast to God shall want for nothing: + +"God alone sufficeth." + +And "the benediction that followeth after prayer" seemed to her more +than ever + + "A Christian charm, + To dull the shafts of worldly harm." + +Even though the arm stretched out to bless were that of the young +brother whose steps she had so often guided in their days of childhood. + +As they went in, Missy had seen, somehow, with those quick, light-blue +eyes of hers, that Mr. Andrews was in the church, in a pew near the +door. She knew it was the first time he had been in the church since his +wife's death. She began instantly to speculate about his reasons for +coming, and to wonder whether he would have the kindness to go off and +leave them to get into the carriage by themselves after service. Then +St. John's voice had broken in upon the fret, and she had forgotten it, +till they were at the church door, coming out, before chattering little +groups of people on the grass outside. It did not yet rain, but the sky +was gray as granite, and the air chill. + +Jay's warm little hand was in hers, unconsciously to them both. Miss +Varian was leaning heavily upon her other arm. Half a dozen persons came +up to speak to them as they made their way to the carriage. At the +carriage door stood Mr. Andrews. Jay made a spring at him. Mr. Andrews +gravely lifted him in. Missy felt an angry agitation as she saw him, but +the words of St. Theresa's wisdom stood by her for the moment. He +scarcely looked at her as he put her into the carriage. Gabrielle, very +subdued, followed, and Mr. Andrews closed the door, lifted his hat, +after some commonplace about the weather, and the carriage drove away. +All Yellowcoats might have seen that. Nothing could have been more +unsensational. + +That evening St. John came to tea, very tired and silent. He sat alone +with his mother an hour before tea, and Missy saw tears on her cheeks as +she brought in the light. She came into the library and lay on her sofa, +but could not join them at tea. Those tears always gave Missy a jealous +feeling. These long talks with St. John now always brought them. At tea +the children chattered, and St. John tried to be amusing to them, and +after tea, as they sat around the library fire, while the rain outside +dashed against the windows, he took Jay on his lap, and told him a +story. Jay liked it, and called for more, and Gabby drew near to listen. + +"Why didn't you tell us a story to-day at church," he said. "Stories are +a great deal nicer than talking the way you did." + +"Goneril says it doesn't do us any good to go to church when we don't +want to," said Gabby. "Does it, Mr. Varian?" + +"People don't go to church to be done good to," said Missy, who had no +patience with Goneril, and less with Gabrielle. + +"Don't they?" asked Gabrielle, ignoring Missy, and turning her great +eyes up appealingly into St. John's face, as she leaned on the arm of +his chair. + +"No, I should think not," said St. John, slowly, putting his hand on +hers. + +"Translate it into words of one syllable, St. John," said Missy, poking +a pine-knot into blaze, "that people go to church for worship, not for +edification." + +"Well, children," he said, "no doubt you have always been taught to go +and say good-morning to your father, and give him a kiss, haven't you? +And you generally do it, though it doesn't do you any particular good, +nor, for the matter of that, very much to him. But he likes it, and you +always ought to go. Maybe sometimes you don't want to go; sometimes +you're busy playing, or you're hungry for your breakfast, or you're a +little lazy. But if you always give up your play, or put off your +breakfast, or get over being lazy, and go, no doubt you have done right, +and he is pleased with you. Now, going to church is a service, a thing +to be done, to be offered to God; it isn't that we may be better, or +learn something, or get any good, that we go. It is to pay an honor to +our Heavenly Father; it is something to give to Him, an offering. I +think we should be glad, don't you? There are so few things we can give +Him." + +Gabrielle was not convinced, and offered objections manifold, but Jay +said "All right, he'd go next time without crying, if Goneril didn't +brush his hair so hard." + +"You mustn't get her into an argument, then," said Missy. "The faster +she talks, the harder she brushes." + +"You won't be here another Sunday, Jay," said Gabby. "You'll have your +own nurse, and maybe she'll brush easy." + +The children were soon sent to bed, and then St. John went away. + +"I have something to tell you, Missy," said her mother. "Come to my room +before you go to bed." + +Missy's heart beat faster. Now she should know the explanation of her +mother's tears, and St. John's long silences. + +"Well," said Missy, sitting down by her mother's sofa, before the fire +which blazed uncertainly. She knew from the clear shining of her +mother's eyes, and from the faint flush on her cheek, that it was no +trifling news she was to hear, and that before that pine log burned +away, they should have gone very deep. She felt a jealous determination +to oppose. + +"You don't know how to begin, I see," she said, with a bitter little +laugh. "I wish I could help you." + +"Oh," said her mother, "it is not very difficult. St. John says you told +him never to talk to you about going away; and so it was best not to +talk about it till everything was settled." + +"Certainly; he has only kept his promise. I did not want to be stirred +up with all his fluctuations of purpose." + +"I do not think, Missy, you can justly say he has fluctuated in purpose. +I think he came here almost under protest, giving up his will in the +matter to please us--to please you. In truth, I think he has had but one +purpose, that has been strengthening slowly day by day." + +Missy lifted her head. "I don't understand exactly. I know he has been +getting restless." + +"I don't think he has been getting restless." + +"Well, at any rate it looks so, going from one parish to another in six +months." + +"But, he is not going from one parish to another." + +Missy started. "What do you mean, mamma? I hope he isn't--isn't giving +up the ministry." + +"Oh, no; how could you think of such a thing." + +"Well," cried Missy, impetuously, "please remember I am outside of all +your counsels. Everything is new to me. St. John is going away; is going +to make some important step, and yet is not going to a new parish, is +not forsaking his vocation. How can you wonder I am puzzled?" + +"He isn't forsaking his vocation; he is only following what he is very +sure is his vocation in its highest, fullest sense." + +"You don't mean," cried Missy, turning a startled face to her mother, +"that St. John has got an idea that he is called to the religious life? +Mamma, it isn't possible. I can't believe you have encouraged him in +this." + +"I have had nothing to do with it, alas, my child. One must let that +alone forever. We can give up or deny to God, our own souls; but 'the +souls of others are as the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and +evil; we must not touch them.' I had my own soul to give, and I did not +give it." + +Missy turned coldly away while her mother pressed her hands before her +face. There was a silence, in which a bitter flood of thoughts passed +through the mind of the younger one. + +"I am a reproach to you, mamma," she said. "Perhaps I ought not to +exist. There are moments when I feel the contradictions of my nature to +be so great, I wonder if it were not wrong, instead of right, that I was +born--a broken law, and not a law fulfilled. I know--you need not tell +me--you had always thought of the religious life yourself. We have not +talked much of it, but I have had my thoughts. Your first marriage bound +you to the world, because it left you with me. I suppose if I had not +been born you would have entered a sisterhood. Then, mamma, you need not +evade it, you would have missed the real love, the real life of your +heart. You have never told me this, but I know enough to know you did +not love my father. It cannot be your fault; but it was your fate. Do +not contradict me, we never have gone so deep before. Yes, mamma, _I_ +bound you to the world. I was the unlovely child who stood between you +and heaven. How could I help being unlovely, born of duty, not of love? +I don't reproach you, except as my existence reproaches you. St. John is +not a contradiction; his nature is full and sweet; he might live a happy +life. Why do you sacrifice him? You say you have had no hand in +this--mamma--mamma--you moulded him; you bend him now. You do not know +how strong your influence upon him is. It is the unconscious feeling of +your heart that you are making reparation. You are satisfied to give him +up who is all the world to you, that Heaven may be propitiated. It is I +who should have been sacrificed; I, who have been always in your way to +holiness--a thorn in your side, mamma--a perverse nature, not to be bent +to your path of sacrifice and immolation." + +"Do not talk of sacrifice, my child, of immolation. It is a height, a +glory, to attain to. I cannot make you understand--I will not contradict +you." + +"No, do not contradict me. I am contradicted enough. I am not in your +state of fervor. I see things as they are, I see plain facts. Believe +me, this enthusiasm cannot last. You will find, too late, that you have +not counted the cost; that you cannot bear the strain of feeling--a +living death--a grave that the grass never grows over. Time can't heal a +wound that is always kept open. You are mad, mamma, you are mad. We +cannot bear this thing. Look at it, as you will when your enthusiasm +cools." + +"I have looked at it, Missy, for many months, through silent nights and +days. It is no new thought to me. My dear, I have many lonely hours; I +have much suffering, which abates enthusiasm. Through loneliness and +suffering, I have had this thought for my companion. I know what I am +doing, and I do it almost gladly. Not quite, for I am very weak, but +almost, for God has been very gracious to me." + +"It is infatuation, it is madness, and you will both repent." + +"Hush, my child," said her mother, trying to take her hand, "the thought +is new to you, that is why it seems so dreadful." + +But Missy drew her hand from her mother's and turned her face away. Her +heart was pierced with sorrow at the thought of parting from her +brother. It was the overthrow, too, of all her plans for him, of all +their joint happiness and usefulness. But, to do her justice, the +bitterness of her disappointment came from the idea of separation from +him. She loved him a great deal more than she acknowledged even to +herself. Life would be blank without him to her, and what would it be to +her mother? This sudden weight of woe seemed unbearable, and it was a +woe worse than death, inasmuch as, to her mind, it was unnecessary, +unnatural, and by no law of God ordained. She felt as if she were +smothering, stifling, and her mother's soft voice and calm words +maddened her. + +"I need not talk to you," she cried, "for you are in this state of +exaltation you cannot understand me. When your heart is broken by this +sorrow; when you sink under the weariness of life without him, then we +can talk together in one language, and you can understand me. But it +will be too late--Oh, mamma, hear me--but what is the use of +talking!--remember how young he is, how little of life he knows! Think +how useful, how honorable, his work might be. I cannot comprehend you; I +cannot think what magic there is about this idea of the monastic life. +Why must St. John be better than other men of his generation? Why cannot +he serve God and live a good life as better men have done before him? I +see nothing in him so different from others; he is not so much worse, +that he needs such rigor, nor so much better, that he need set himself +apart. Believe me, it is the subtle work of a crafty enemy; he cannot be +contented with the common round, the daily task; he is not satisfied to +do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly; he must do some great thing." + +"We shall see," said her mother, gently. "His vocation will be tested. +You know it will be long before he is permitted to enter the order he +has chosen. He may not be accepted." + +"Not accepted!" cried Missy. "A man with money, influence, talent--Oh, +we need not flatter ourselves. He will be accepted soon enough. They may +coquet about it a little to save appearances, but they will not let him +escape them, you may be quite sure." + +"Missy, I must beg, if you cannot spare me such things, you will at +least not wound St. John by saying them before him." + +"Oh, you may be sure I will not wound his saintly ears by such +profanity. But you--I did not think you had yet left the world. I +fancied there was yet one of my blood to whom I might speak familiarly. +You and St. John are all I have; and when he is a monk, I shall be +obliged to be a Trappist--are there female Trappists?--excuse my +ignorance of such matters--or offend you occasionally by my secular +conversation." + +"Missy, we won't talk of this any more till you have got over your +bitterness a little. I hoped you would not take it so. I have dreaded +telling you for the pain it would give you, but I did not think you +would so misapprehend him. By and by, I am sure you will see it +differently, and though you may not fully approve, you will yet admire +the fullness of his faith, and the sweetness of what you call his +sacrifice." + +"Never, never," cried Missy. "I love truth and right and justice too +much to admire even the most beautiful perversions of them. I may be +reconciled so far as to hold my peace. More you cannot ask of me. Mamma, +remember, you and I have always thought differently about these things. +St. John took your faith, and has always been dearer and nearer to you +than I. I cannot help the way I was made; we are not responsible, I +suppose, for the shape of our minds any more than for the shape of our +bodies. St. John always loved to hear about miracles and martyrdoms; I +never did. It wasn't his merit that he liked them, nor my fault that I +didn't like them. Such as I am by nature, you must be patient with me." + +"Such as we are by nature, my dear, would draw little love to us from +God, or men. Our corrections and amendments make our worth. I love you +for what you have made yourself, in spite of passion and self-will, and +St. John, for the conquest he has made of faults that lie deeper and +more hidden. Ah, my dear, we may go to prisons and reformatories to see +how attractive people are by nature." + +"You know," said Missy, coldly, "I never could feel as you do about this +making over, 'teaching our very hearts to beat by rule.' You see it +is--just one part of our difference. St. John will always please you. I +am afraid I cannot hope to do it, and as we are to spend our lives alone +together, it is to be regretted." + +"Oh, Missy, Missy, do not try to break my heart!" + +"If it is not broken now, by this cruel separation, nothing I can do +will break it. Mamma, forgive me, if I am not as humble and reverent as +I should be, but you have laid a great deal on me. All this is, as you +say, quite new to me. It is as if you had taken me by the hand, and led +me to the room where my brother lay dying and had said to me, 'See, I +have mixed the poison, and given it to him; we have talked it over for +months together; we are both convinced that it is right and good. Death +is better than life. Be content, and give thanks for what we have +done.'" + +"My child, you cannot surely be so blind. How is it that you do not +perceive that it is not death, but life, that I have led you in to see? +That I have shown you your brother, girded with a new strength, clothed +with a new honor; set apart for the service of God forever. Missy, he +is not lost to us, dear, while we believe in the Communion of Saints." + +"Mamma, I don't believe in it! I don't believe in anything. You have +overthrown my faith. You have killed me." + +"Listen to reason, Missy, if not to faith. St. John is happy; happier +than I ever knew him, even as a child; he is happy, even in this time of +transition and suspense. If he is blessed with this great gift, if he +has sought peace and found it, even in what may seem to you this hard +and bitter way, let us be thankful and not hinder him. This is not of an +hour's growth, and he will not waver. He is slower than we are, Missy, +slower and deeper. St. John is steadfast, and he is fully persuaded in +his own mind of what he wants to do and what he ought to do. I know no +one with so little natural enthusiasm--the fire that burns in him is not +of nature. And he has counted the cost. He knows what he gives up, and +he knows what he gains. He knows that he is sure of misconception, +reprobation, scorn, and I do not think it weighs a straw with him. What +would weigh with you, and possibly with me, is literally of no force at +all with him. You know he never thought at all what the world might say +about him, not from disrespect to the opinion of others, but from deep +indifference, from perfect unconsciousness. That is nature, and not +grace, but it makes the step less hard. The separation from us, Missy, +the giving up his home, that has been a battle indeed; but it has been +fought, and, I think, will never have to be gone over, in its +bitterness, again." + +"I don't know how you can have any assurance of that; excuse me for +saying so." + +"Well, I cannot explain it to you. I am afraid I could not make you +understand exactly. 'The heart hath its reasons, which the reason cannot +comprehend.'" + +"No doubt. I am not right in asking you to cast these spiritual pearls +before me--" + +"Missy!" + +"But I may ask for some plain husks of fact. I am capable of +understanding them, perhaps. If it isn't bringing things down too much, +please, when does my brother go away--where does he go to, when he +goes?" + +"I suppose he will go next month; he will offer his resignation here +to-morrow at the vestry meeting." + +"Then will begin the strife of tongues," said Missy, with a shudder. "I +suppose he will think it his duty to tell these ten solid gentlemen +'with good capon lined,' fresh from their comfortable dinners, why he +goes away." + +"Assuredly not, Missy. St. John is not Quixotic. He has good quiet +sense." + +"He had, mamma. Excuse me. Well, if I may hear it, where is he going, +and is it to be unequivocally forever--and--I hope he remains in our own +communion? I don't know whether I ought to ask for such low details or +not, but I cannot help a certain interest in them. I suppose an ecstasy +has no body; but a resolution may have." + +"Surely, Missy, you will not say things like these to St. John? Save +your taunts for me. It would wound him cruelly, and he would not know, +as I do, that they spring from your suffering and deep love to him." + +"Truly, mamma, you are too tender of the feelings of your ascetic. If I +wound him, that is a part of what he has undertaken; that is what he +ought to be prepared for, and to ask for. You can't put yourself between +him and his scourge. Think of it! how the lash will come down on his +white flesh; and St. John has always been a little tender of his flesh, +mamma. Well--is he Roman or Anglican? For I confess I feel I do not know +my brother. Please translate him to me." + +"I don't know why, having seen no wavering in his faith, you should +insult him by supposing he has any intention to forsake it. But let us +end this conversation, Missy. I feel too ill to talk further to-night, +beyond telling you he hopes to enter an order in England, and that he +will be gone, in any event, two years. After that, it is all uncertain. +If he is received, he is under obedience. He may be sent to America; he +may end his days in India. We may see him often, or we may see him +never. It is all quite one to him, I think, and I pray he may not even +have a wish." + +Mrs. Varian ceased speaking, and lay back on her sofa quite white and +exhausted. + +"I suppose I'd better not keep you awake any longer, then," said Missy, +rising. "Is there anything I can do for you? Call me if you need me. +Good-night." She stooped over her mother and kissed her lightly. She +would not touch her hand, for fear she should show how cold hers was, +and how it trembled. She went across the room to see if the windows were +closed, and then to the fire to see that it was safe to leave for the +night, and with another word or two, went out and shut the door. A +tempest of remorse for her unkindness came over her when she was alone +in her own room. She knew what her mother was suffering, had suffered, +and though she reproached her for having influenced her brother's +decision, she reproached herself for having added one pang to her +already too great sorrow. She had, indeed, cruelly wounded her, and left +her to the long night watches without a word of repentance. + +Missy would have given worlds to have been on the other side of the door +she had just closed. _Then_ it would be easy to let the tears come that +were burning in her eyes, and to throw herself into her mother's arms, +and be silently forgiven. But in cold blood to go back, to reopen the +conversation, to take back what she had said, to humble herself to ask +forgiveness for what was true, but which ought not to have been +spoken--this was more than she had grace to do. She longed for the time +to come when she should have a sorrow to bear that was not mixed up with +repentance for some wrong-doing of her own. This loss of her brother, +cruel as it was, would always be made crueller by the recollection of +her jealousy of him, of her unkindness to her mother, of the way in +which she had rejected her sympathy and taunted her with the share she +had had in what had happened. It all seemed insupportable, the wounded +love, the separation, the remorse, the jealousy, and the disappointment. +What was her life now? St. John was woven into every part of it. What +was her work in the parish, with him away; what her home without his +presence? The world, she had given up as much as he, she thought; in it +she could find no amusement. Study had been but a means to an end; there +was nothing left her but duty--duty without peace or pleasure. She had +her mother still, but her mother's heart was with St. John. Missy felt +that there was a barrier between them which each day's suffering would +add to. She should reproach her mother always for having influenced St. +John. (She never for a moment altered her judgment of the error that had +been made, nor allowed that there might be a side on which she had not +looked.) She was certain that her mother would be unable to endure the +separation, and that the months, as they wore away, would wear away her +life. She would see her mother fading away before her eyes; and St. +John, in his new life, leaving his duties to her, would be sustained by +his mother's praise, and the approbation of his perverted conscience. +She would be cut off from the sympathy of both mother and brother; +equally uncongenial to both. She thought of them as infatuated; they +thought of her as worldly-minded; she looked down upon their want of +wisdom; she knew they looked down upon her unspiritual sordidness. It +was all sore and bitter, and as the day dawned upon her sleepless eyes, +she thought, with almost a relenting feeling, that if St. John had found +peace _anywhere_, he was not to blame for going where it led him. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +MY DUTY TO MY NEIGHBOR. + + +Six months had passed; St. John's leave-taking had soon taken place, +after the conversation just recorded. It had been a time of great +suffering to all; even Missy had found it harder than she had imagined. +Miss Varian had taken it very much to heart, and in her violence Missy +had become calm. Her natural place was, of course, in opposition to this +member of the family. It seemed improper for her to be fighting in the +ranks beside her aunt. This, and her great pain in parting from her +brother, hushed her outward opposition. She felt she was, at least, +justified in supporting him in the eyes of his deserted parish--and +thus, Yellowcoats believed always that Missy had been the chief +instrument in depriving them of his services; so correct is popular +information. Her mother, Missy did not understand. The actual moment of +parting was as full of agony as she had anticipated; for an hour after, +there really seemed a doubt to others than Missy, whether the poor +mother would ever come out of the swoon which had followed the last +sound of the carriage wheels outside. But when, after a day or two, the +physical effects of the emotion passed away, Mrs. Varian seemed to grow +content and quiet; a deeper peace than before filled her eyes. The +yearning, pining weariness which Missy had anticipated, did not come. +She seemed to heed neither companionship nor solitude; her solitude +seemed peopled with angelic company; while her face welcomed all who +came near her, far from angelic as they might be. Her health seemed +stronger. It was all a mystery to her daughter. + +"Mamma seems better than for years, this winter," she was obliged to +say, when asked about her mother's health. She did not talk much about +St. John, even with Missy, but when she did talk of him, it was with +simplicity and naturalness. His letters never threw her into depression, +nor was she deeply anxious when they did not come. She always gave the +letters to Missy to read, which had not been the case before. They were +short, affectionate, plain as to fact, expressing nothing of inward +emotion. Missy felt sure that this was understood between them, and that +the outpouring of heart which had been so dear to both, was part of the +sacrifice. + +The new clergyman came, and parish matters in their new light had to be +talked over. This was acute pain to Missy, to whom it seemed St. John's +work alone. It seemed to give no pain to her mother, and her interest in +affairs connected with the village church was unabated. The only thing +that seemed to pain her, was the adverse criticism upon the step her son +had taken, which Miss Varian took pains should come to her ears. People +opened their minds on the matter to _her_, knowing she was strongly +opposed to it, and she felt it to be her one source of consolation, to +repeat these confidences to her sister-in-law. + +After a time, it became Missy's business to thwart her in obtaining +interviews with her mother, and to have always a servant in the room. +Before a servant, Miss Varian would not talk on family matters, even +when she was very bitter, and Goneril had a comfortable corner of the +room where she was not loth to do her sewing, and where she saved Mrs. +Varian many a sharp stab. The children, too, came often to the house, +almost as often as in the summer time, and they and their nurse made a +wall of defense as well. + +After all, the winter wore away not unpeacefully to the Varian +household, and all the desponding anticipations seemed to have been +unwarranted. The children went and came; Jay's warm little hand was +often in Missy's when she walked and rode; she had much occupation in +the house, not as many interests outside. Time seemed to be healing the +wound made by her brother's departure; she had read systematically, she +was in fine health, the winter had been steadily cold and bracing. Yes, +it had been a quiet, peaceful time to them all since Christmas. She +blushed when she remembered how persistently she had prophesied evil, +refusing to be comforted. "I must be very commonplace," she thought. "I +am not even capable of suffering consistently." On the whole, however, +it was a relief to be contented and comfortable, and she did not reject +it exactly, though she took it under protest, and with a certain shame. +She had, too, got over the violence of her feelings in the matter of her +neighbor. She remembered her keen emotions with mortification. A good +many things had contributed to this, principally the fact that St. +John's going had eclipsed all other events, and that, in that real +sorrow, the trifling sting was forgotten. Besides, the gentleman himself +had had the kindness to keep entirely at home. + +It was now May, and since November Missy had not spoken to him once. +His household matters seemed to have been working smoothly. The +servants, Missy learned through Eliza, the nurse, were contented and +industrious. Mr. Andrews, she said, was the nicest gentleman to work +for. He seemed as comfortable as a king, and was pleased with everything +they did for him. He read his paper after dinner, and then talked with +the children, and after they went to bed, read or wrote till after all +were sleeping in the house. Two nights in the week he stayed in town; he +did not seem to mind going back and forth. Sometimes he brought a +gentleman home with him, but that was not very often. He seemed to think +the children much improved, and he took an interest in their lessons, +and made them tell him every night what they had been learning. As Eliza +was herself their teacher, this gratified her very much. She was a +steady, sensible young woman, and was in reality a protegée of Missy's. +Missy had had her in her Sunday-school class, had prepared her for +confirmation, and had never ceased to look after her and advise her; and +had told a very naughty "story" when she denied to Mr. Andrews that the +nurse elect was any protegée of hers. But in certain crises the most +virtuous of women will say what is not true. + +At first Missy tried to repress Eliza's devotion to her, and not to +listen to the details she insisted on giving of her daily life and +trials; but it was too alluring to give advice, and to manage Jay by +proxy; and after a month or two, Missy ruled as truly in the Andrews +nursery as she did in her own home. She was not without influence, +either, over the other servants in the widower's establishment. They +knew they owed their places to her, and they were anxious to obtain her +good opinion. Through Eliza many hints were obtained how to manage about +certain matters, how to arrange in certain delicate contingencies. + +"Why, if I were in your place, Eliza, I should tell the cook she'd +better speak to Mr. Andrews about Martin's coming in so late. It is +always best to be truthful about such matters." + +"Of course I don't know anything about it; but it seems to me the +waitress would do much better to put up all the silver that is not in +use, and ask Mr. Andrews to have it packed away. It only gives +additional work, and can do no one any good; and it is really rather +unsafe to have so much about, Mr. Andrews is away so many nights." + +This had all come about so gradually, Missy would have denied +indignantly that she had ever put a finger in her neighbor's pie; +whereas, both pretty little white hands were in it greedily, all ten +fingers, all the time. Dear Missy, how she did love to govern! + +It was only when Gabrielle turned up her eyes, with the expression that +she had had in them that horrid day by the green-house door--though she +discreetly held her tongue--or when by rare chance Missy passed Mr. +Andrews in driving, that she stiffened up, and felt the angry aversion +coming over her again. As long as he kept out of sight it was all very +well; and he had been wise, and had kept out of sight all the winter +long. + +It was now May; and perhaps he began to think it would be very rude not +to make a call upon his neighbors, after all their kindness to the +children; perhaps he began to grow a little tired of his freedom from +the tyranny of women; perhaps his evenings were a trifle dull, now that +he could not sit, with his book, between a wood fire and a student lamp. +Perhaps he came from duty; perhaps he came because he wanted to come; +but at all events he came, one soft May evening, in the twilight, and +walked up the steps of the piazza, and rang the bell that he had not +rung for six long months of frost and snow. It is certain he felt a +trifle awkward about doing it; his manner showed that. Missy was alone +in the library, writing a letter by the lamp. She looked up, surprised, +when he entered--indeed, more than surprised. They were both so awkward +that they were silent for a moment--the worst thing to be. + +"It seems a long while since I have seen you, Miss Rothermel," said Mr. +Andrews; and then he began to see how much better it would have been not +to say it. It was so absurd for people living side by side not to have +spoken to each other for six months. It couldn't have happened without a +reason; and the reason came, of course, to both their minds. + +"Yes, I believe it is," returned Missy, uncomfortably. "I think I caught +sight of you, one day last week, coming from the cars. The new +time-table is a great improvement, I should think. I suppose you get +home now quite early, don't you?" + +She was naturally the first to get command of herself, and by and by +they got upon safe ground. But Missy was uneasy, stiff; Mr. Andrews +wished the visit over many times before it was, no doubt. + +"I will call my aunt," said Missy, "she enjoys visitors so much." + +"Which is more than you do," thought Mr. Andrews as he watched her cross +the room and ring a bell. But Miss Varian was long in coming. + +"Don't you think Jay is growing nicely?" asked Mr. Andrews, trying to +find a subject that was safe. He dared not mention Gabrielle, of course. + +"Yes, he seems very well this spring. And he is a good boy, too, I +think--for him, that is." + +There was a certain pretty softening of her face, when she spoke of Jay, +that never escaped Mr. Andrews. He liked to see it, it amused him as +much as it pleased him. "Jay has made his first conquest," he thought. +"This severe little lady is perfectly his slave." + +"I am afraid he troubles you with his frequent visits. His nurse tells +me he insists on coming very often," he said aloud. + +"Oh, he never troubles me; sometimes I do not even see him. He is great +friends with mamma." + +"Mrs. Varian is well, I hope? I have thought very often your brother's +absence must try her very much." + +Most unreasonably the tears rushed into Missy's eyes at the allusion to +her brother. The letter on her lap was to him, and she was rather less +composed than usual. + +"We bear it," she said, "as people bear what they cannot help. It was +what mamma wanted for him, and so, in some ways, it seems easier to her +than to me. Though of course the loss falls heaviest on her." This was +more than she had ever said to any one, and she could not understand, a +moment after, how she could have said it. + +"It was," he said thoughtfully, "a grave step for him to take; I confess +I cannot understand his motives, but, young as he is, one feels +instinctively his motives are more entitled to respect than those of +most men." + +"I cannot respect motives that give me so much misery," she said, in a +voice that trembled. + +At this moment Miss Varian came in. While Mr. Andrews was speaking to +her, and while the severe hands of Goneril were arranging her a seat, +Missy had time to recollect how near she had been to making Mr. Andrews +a confidant of her feelings about her brother. Mr. Andrews, who had +broken his wife's heart; a pretty confidant. She colored high with shame +and vexation. What had moved her to so foolish a step. She was losing +all confidence in herself; people who habitually do what they don't mean +to do, are very poor reliance. "I always mean to treat him with +contempt, and I very rarely do it," she thought. "It is amazing, and a +humiliation to me to recall the way in which I always begin with +coldness, and end with suavity, if not with intimacy." + +Pretty soon, Miss Varian began to ask what sort of a winter he had had. +He said it had been very quiet and pleasant, and that spending a winter +in the country had been a new experience to him. + +"You must have found it very dull," she said. "I hate the country when +there's nobody in it, and I wonder you could want to stay." + +"But there was somebody in it," said Mr. Andrews, with a frank smile, +"for me. A little boy and girl that are of more importance than kings +and crowns, God bless them." + +"With all my heart," said Miss Varian, "but I didn't know you were so +domestic. I'm glad to be able to say, I've seen a man who would give up +his club and his comfort for his children. Not but that you had some +comfort here, of course. It wouldn't do to say that before Missy, who +organized your cabinet for you, didn't she? How do your servants get +along?" + +"Very well, thank you," said Mr. Andrews uncomfortably. + +"And have you taken the house for another year?" went on the speaker. + +"Oh, yes, it agrees so well with the children here," answered Mr. +Andrews apologetically. "I did not know where they would be any better +off." + +"Well, we must be grateful to them for keeping you, I suppose. I don't +think you have been a very valuable neighbor so far, however. You +haven't lived enough in the country to know what is expected of +neighbors, perhaps." + +"No, I must confess--" + +"Why, neighbors in the country have a serious duty in the winter. They +spend evenings very often together; they play cribbage, they bring over +the evening paper; they take watches to town to be mended; they mail +letters, they even carry bundles." + +"I should think Mr. Andrews would give up the lease of his house if you +put much more before him as his duty for next winter." + +Missy said this quite loftily, having grown red and white, possibly a +little yellow, since her aunt began to speak. Her loftiness, perhaps, +piqued Mr. Andrews a little, for he said, turning to her: + +"Hasn't a neighbor any summer duties? I hope Miss Varian will make me +out a list." + +"With pleasure," cried Miss Varian, scenting mischief in the air. + +"My aunt's ideas of duty are individual, pray let me say," Missy put in, +in not the most perfectly suave tone. + +"A neighbor, in the summer," went on Miss Varian, as if she had not +spoken, "a neighbor in the summer comes across after dinner, and smokes +his cigar at the beach gate, if any of the family are sitting on the +lawn. In rainy weather he comes over for a game of cards; occasionally +he comes in time for tea; if he has a sail-boat, he takes his neighbors +out sometimes to sail; he brings them peaches, the very first that come +to market, and he never minds changing a book at the library in town." + +"But these are all privileges; you were going to tell me about duties, +were you not?" + +"As to that, you may call them what you please, they are the whole duty +of man in the country, and I can't see how you ever came to overlook +them for such a length of time." + +"You shan't be able to reproach me any more. Peaches are not in market; +and my sail-boat is not out of winter quarters. But I might change a +library book for a beginning. Haven't you got one that I might try my +hand upon?" + +"To be sure I have," said this hateful woman, with great enjoyment of +her niece's anger; "I have a volume of Balzac that Goneril has just got +through, under protest, and I'd like to have another, to make an utter +end of her. It's my only chance of getting rid of her, and you would be +a family benefactor." + +"Please, let me have the book," said Mr. Andrews. "Is it this one on the +table?" + +"No," said Miss Varian. "I don't think it is down-stairs. Missy, ring +the bell for Goneril to get it; will you?" + +Missy had been sitting with her head turned away, and her lips pressed +together. After her aunt spoke, she sat quite still for a moment, as if +she could not bring herself to execute the order; then, without +speaking, got up and walked across to the bell, and rang it, sitting +down when she came back, a little further from the light, and from the +two talkers. + +"Missy, you've got through with the book yourself, haven't you?" said +her aunt, determined to make her talk, as she was sure her voice, if she +could be made to use it, would show her agitation. + +That was Missy's calamity. Her voice was very sweet and pleasant; the +nicest thing about her, except her feet and hands. But it was a very +unmanageable gift, and it registered her emotions with unfailing +accuracy. Missy might control her words, occasionally, but she could not +control her voice, even occasionally. It was never shrill in anger, but +it was tremulous and husky, and, in fine, angry. So now, when she +answered her aunt that she had not seen the book, and did not know its +name, and did not want to read it, the words were faultless, but the +voice, alas, betrayed the want of harmony between aunt and niece. That +Mr. Andrews had suspected since his earliest acquaintance with them. + +"Oh, then, I won't keep it out for you," Miss Varian said blithely. +"But, maybe you'd like Mr. Andrews to take back your Lecky; I heard you +say at breakfast you had finished it. It wouldn't be much more trouble +to take two than one, would it, Mr. Andrews?" + +"Neither would be any trouble, but a great pleasure," said Mr. Andrews, +civilly. + +"Thank you; but there is no need to put it upon you. We have not left +our books to chance bounty; the expressman is trusty, and takes them +regularly." + +"We sometimes have to wait three days!" cried Miss Varian, annoyed to +have her errand look like a caprice. + +"Well, I shall try to be more prompt than the expressman. Perhaps you'd +better make out your list, that there may be no mistake." + +"Missy, get a card, will you, and make out a list." + +Missy again got up, after a moment's hesitation, looked in her desk, and +got the card and pencil, and sat down as if waiting for further orders. +In the meanwhile Goneril had come in, and was waiting, like a suppressed +volcano, for information as to the cause of this repeated interruption +of her evening's recreation. Miss Varian sent her for the book, and then +said, "Missy, I wish you'd get the card." + +"I have been waiting some time," said Missy. + +"Well, then," said Miss Varian, pleasantly, "write out a list of Balzac, +beginning with 'Les Petites Misères de la Vie Conjugale'--translated, of +course, for Goneril can hardly read English, let alone French. I _ought_ +to have a French maid." + +"Surely," said Missy, "if you want to read Balzac." + +"I do want to read him, every line," returned her aunt. "'Les Petites +Misères.' Well, let me see--what else haven't I read of his?" + +Missy paused with her pencil suspended over the paper after she had +written the name. She disdained to prompt. + +"Can't you think, Missy?" said her aunt sharply. + +"I can't," said Missy, quietly. + +"Well, you're not often so short of words, whatever may be the cause. +Mr. Andrews, I beg you won't think ill of my niece's intelligence. She +is generally able to express herself. You have read ever so many of +Balzac's books aloud to me, you must know their names." + +"I don't recall them at this moment," returned Missy, using her pencil +to make a little fiend turning a somersault, on the margin of the +evening paper which lay beside her. + +"Can't you help me, Mr. Andrews," said Miss Varian, a little tartly. + +"I, oh, certainly," said Mr. Andrews, recalling himself from what seemed +a fit of absentmindedness. "Some of the names of Balzac's books. Let me +see, 'César Birotteau,' 'Le Père Goriot'--" + +"Oh, I don't mean those. I've read all those, of course. I'd like some +of the--well, some of the ones I wouldn't have been likely to have read, +you know. Missy, there was one you were so horrified about, but you were +fascinated too. Can't you think what it was? It occurs to me I'd like to +try it again. You're not generally so stupid, or so prudish, whichever +it may be." Missy's lips grew tight; she made another little fiend on +the paper, before she trusted herself to answer. + +"Perhaps," she said, handing the card across the table to her aunt, "you +had better leave it to Mr. Andrews and the librarian. Maybe between them +they can find something that will please you." + +"Well, Mr. Andrews, then I'll _have_ to leave it to you. And if you +bring me something that I have read before, it will be Missy's fault, +and you'll have to hold her responsible for it." + +"I hope I shall be able to suit you; but in any case, I have quite a lot +of French books at the house, which are at your service." + +"But, you see, my maid can't read French, and so I have to have +translations." + +"Oh, I forgot. Well, perhaps, Miss Rothermel, some of them might suit +you, if you'd let me send them in to you." + +"You are very kind," said Missy. "But I have my reading laid out for two +months to come, and it would be impossible for me to take up anything +more." + +Mr. Andrews bowed, and got up to take his leave. Miss Varian gave him +the card and her hand too, and said an effusive and very neighborly +good-night. Missy half rose, and bent her head, but did not offer to put +out her hand. + +"The caprices and the tempers of women," he thought, as he went home +under the big trees and looked back at the friendly or unfriendly lights +gleaming from the library window. "Their caprices and their tempers and +their tongues!" + +Nevertheless, he found himself speculating upon which of Balzac's books +Missy had been fascinated with and horrified about. He did not like to +think of her as reading Balzac, and being ashamed to own it too. He +always thought of her as a "severe little lady;" she seemed to him, with +all her caprice and temper, and even her sharp tongue, as the embodiment +of all the domestic virtues. He had liked her face that day she came out +of church, with her blind aunt on her arm, and little Jay close at her +side; surely she was a good woman, if there were good women in the +world. Nevertheless (as he lit his cigar), he could have wished she had +a better sense of justice, and did not vent on him the anger engendered +by the faults of others. + +The next evening promptly upon the arrival of the carriage from the +train, Eliza and Jay brought over "Les Petites Misères," and another of +Balzac for Miss Varian from the library, and the last "Saturday Review," +"Revue des Deux Mondes" and "Punch" for Miss Rothermel. Missy would not +even take them off the table where her aunt had laid them down. She +considered it quite humbling that he could not understand his literature +had been refused. She had quite prided herself on the decision with +which she had nipped in the bud that neighborliness, and here he was +persistently blooming out into politeness again. + +"This shall be put an end to forever," she thought. "They shall go back +with their leaves uncut to-morrow, and that he cannot misconstrue." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +FIRE AND SWORD. + + +That evening, however, a little incident occurred which made it +difficult, nay, even impossible, to send the papers home with their +leaves uncut. After tea, Missy hurried out, buttoning a sack on, and +looking carefully around to see that she was not followed by neighborly +notice. It had been a warm and lovely day; May was melting into June; +the evening was perfect, the sun not quite below the hills as yet. Missy +went across the lawn; the tide was high, and there was little wind. She +pulled in the anchor of a little boat that rocked on the waves, and +stepping in, took the oars and pushed out. No one was looking; Mr. +Andrews was no doubt taking his solid and comfortable dinner, and had +not yet ventured to accept Miss Varian's invitation to come and smoke +his cigar at the beach gate. Missy had resolved that he should find no +one there to bear him company, even if she gave up her favorite +after-tea hour on the lawn, all summer. She pulled out into the bay, +with a sense of getting free which is one of the pleasures of a woman on +a horse or in a boat by herself. Some of Missy's happiest hours were +spent skimming over the bay like a May-fly. No one could recall her to +duty or bondage till she chose. She almost forgot Aunt Harriet when she +was across the harbor; housekeeping cares fell from her when she pushed +off into the water, and only came back when the keel grated on the +shore again. To-night she drew a long breath of freedom as she pulled +herself, with light-dipping oars, far out on the serene blue bay, and +then, resting, held her breath and listened. How sweet and placid the +scene! + +Fret and headache, sin and temptation!--it was difficult to believe in +them, out here in the cool and fresh stillness, palpitating with the +gentle swell of the tide, fanned by an air that scarcely moved the +waters, transfigured by the glorious hues that overspread the heavens +and colored sea and land. "It is good to be here. Why must I ever go +back again?" she thought, and then scorned herself for the unpractical +and sentimental longing. "At any rate, I shall have time to go over to +the West Harbor, before it is night, and perhaps get a look across Oak +Neck into the Sound." + +The village looked tranquil and sweet as she passed it; the smoke rose +from a chimney here and there; the faint sounds came out to her like a +dream; a little motion attracted the eye now and then, where the road +was not hidden by the trees; a boatman moved about on the shore, but +slowly, musically. The rich verdure of the early summer fields crept +down to the yellow strip of sand, upon which the water splashed; two or +three spires reached up into the rosy sky; pretty cottages peeped +through the silent trees, green lawns lay with the evening shadows +stretching across them. It was hard to believe that there, in that +tranquillity, nestled sin and sickness; that there people went to law +with each other, and drove sharp bargains, and told lies. That there +indigestion and intemperance had their victims; that lust laid its cruel +wait beneath that shade, that hypocrisy there played its little part. + +"I will believe only what I see," thought Missy, gliding past. "All is +lovely and serene." It was a long pull to the West Harbor. The pink had +faded from the sky and from the waters before she turned towards home. +She paddled along the shores of the little island that lies opposite +Yellowcoats, and shuts in its pretty harbor from the Sound, and watched +the changing of the sky from rose color to gray, and from gray to deep, +dark blue, and the coming out of a silver thread of moon, and of a +single star. Then one by one she saw lights glimmer in the distant +village, and one, a little brighter and sharper than the rest, that even +made for a moment a light against the sky. + + "Lady Bird, Lady Bird, fly away home, + Your house is on fire, and your children will burn," + +she sang to herself as she rowed across the bay, with her back to the +place she was going to, as is the sad necessity of rowers. She neared +the shore just below Ship Point, and then, turning around her head, +stopped involuntarily to listen, as she heard the sound of a bell. It +must have been a fire, after all, she thought; for while she rowed +across the bay, she had forgotten the sudden light that made her think +of Lady Bird, and the sound of her oars had kept her from hearing the +bells which had been ringing for some time, no doubt. Her first impulse +was to spring on shore, and run up the lane towards the houses that lay +on the outskirts of the village, and hear what was the matter. Then she +reflected that she could do no good, and that her absence and the fire +together might upset her mother; so she soberly turned her boat towards +home, speculating nevertheless, upon the chances of the fire, and +wondering whose old barn or out-house had fallen victim to the heel of +its owner's pipe. She certainly had no feeling of personal interest in +the matter, further than as all Yellowcoats was of personal interest to +her. + +But as she neared the steamboat landing, and came opposite a stretch of +road that was clear of trees, she could hear voices, and see people +moving along it. + +A sudden feeling of fright came over her, for beyond the steamboat +landing were but two houses, their own, and Mr. Andrews'. She pulled +with all her strength and her boat shot through the water, but it seemed +to her she crept, and that she had time to go through scenes of +misfortune and trouble enough to turn her gray. She could see no blaze, +but the bells down in the village were still pealing forth their call. +There was just light enough to see motion upon the road, and hear +voices, and there must have been a multitude of them to have been +audible above the dash of her quick oars. + +She scarcely dared look around when she felt the keel touch the stones; +no, it was not the Andrews' house! What a sight on their own lawn! +Volumes of smoke covered the house; a score of people thronged the +place; men with lanterns were calling and shouting; piles of what looked +like furniture lay about; women were flitting here and there on the +outskirts of the crowd, she could see their light clothes through the +haze. It was all so dim, she felt more terror than if a great flame had +towered up and showed her all. Springing from the boat, she ran to the +beach gate, now lying off its hinges on the sand. + +"What is it?" she said faintly to the first person she encountered. One +of the maids, hearing her voice, ran towards her from a group where she +had been standing uselessly telling her story over and over. + +"What is all this, Ann?" she said, hurrying forward to meet the girl. + +"O Miss Rothermel! Oh! Oh!" she cried, and bursting into tears ran off, +throwing her apron over her head. Missy's limbs shook under her. Her one +thought was, of course, her mother. She struggled forward through the +crowd, on this part of the lawn, all men. + +"Keep back now, keep back. We don't want no women here," cried a man, +pushing her away, without looking at her. They were working stoutly at +something, she didn't know what. The crowd were being pushed back. The +smoke was suffocating, the ground uncertain; ladders and furniture +seemed under her feet at every step. She could not speak, she did not +recognize the man who pushed her back, nor could she, through the smoke, +see any face clearly enough to know it. She heard a good many oaths, and +knew that the crowd were very much in the way, and that the men at work +were swearing at those who hindered them. Still she struggled to get +nearer. Every moment she seemed to grow weaker, and every moment the +horror of failing to get to her mother, seemed to grow stronger. At last +she saw what they were trying to do, to get a rope stretched round the +house, to keep back the crowd, perhaps from danger, perhaps from +plunder. She heard above the noise, Mr. Andrews' voice in command; the +crowd seemed to obey him. A line was stretched across the lawn, some +thirty feet from the house, and the idle people were pressed back behind +it. Missy by a desperate effort writhed through the crowd, and caught at +the rope, and held by that, though pushed and swayed up and down, and +almost crushed between her taller and more powerful neighbors. Mr. +Andrews, passing along inside the cleared space, was calling out some +orders to the men. He passed within a foot or two of where she stood, +and she found voice enough to call to him and make him hear. + +"Where are you?" he said, hurriedly, coming towards her through the +darkness. + +"Let me come to where you are," she gasped, stretching out one hand to +him, but keeping the other fast closed over the rope. + +"Let Miss Rothermel pass there; fall back, won't you, quick." + +They obeyed him, falling back, and in a moment Missy stood free inside +the rope, holding desperately to the hand Mr. Andrews had stretched out +to her. + +"Mamma--" she said, brokenly, "tell me if she is hurt." + +"She is safe--all right--I took her, at the first alarm, to my house. +You'd better get to her as quickly as you can. Come with me, I will get +you through the crowd; it is less on this side of the house." + +He hurried her forward; she stumbled and nearly fell over a roll of +carpet, and seemed to be walking over an expanse of books and +table-covers and candlesticks. + +"Don't worry about any of these things," he said, "they'll all be safe, +now the crowd are all behind the rope." + +"I don't worry about anything," she said, "but mamma." + +"You can be easy about her; there, I can't be spared here, I think you +can get on now. Tell her the fire is all out, and there is nothing to +worry about. I will see to everything. Ho, there, let Miss Rothermel +through, will you?" + +She crawled under the rope, and the people made way for her very +promptly. It was so dark, she could not recognize any of them, but she +heard several familiar voices, and offers of assistance. She was soon +out of the press, and then ran fleetly through the gate and out into the +road, and then through the gate of the Andrews' cottage, and in a moment +more was kneeling by her mother's side. Mrs. Varian, at the sight of +her, broke down completely, and sobbed upon her shoulder. She had been +perfectly calm through all the excitement, but the relief of seeing +Missy was more than she could bear. No one had known where she was, and +there had been unspoken terror in the mother's mind. A few hurried +explanations were all that she could give. An alarm of fire had reached +her in her room, about twilight, and an oppressive odor of smoke and +burning wood. She had heard cries and exclamations of fright from the +servants, and Goneril, in all haste, had run for Mr. Andrews. In a +moment he was on the spot, and no words could express her gratitude for +his consideration, and her admiration for his energy. Before anything +else was done save to send the alarm to the village (which was the work +of an instant, as a horse was saddled at the door), he had insisted +upon bringing her here; she had walked down the stairs, but the smoke +and the excitement had overcome her, and he had lifted her in his arms, +and carried her out of her house into his own. After a little time +Goneril had appeared, leading Miss Varian, and bringing a reassuring +message from Mr. Andrews. The people from the village, she said, had got +there in an incredible time. All Yellowcoats, certainly, had gone in at +that gate, Miss Varian said, coming into the room at that moment, +guiding herself by the door-posts and wainscoting in the unfamiliar +place. Certainly she should alter her opinion of the extent of the +population after this. And every man, woman and child in all the town +swarmed round the place ten minutes after the alarm was given, and were +there yet, though the fire had been out for almost half an hour. + +"And," she went on, addressing Missy, "if it hadn't been for this +neighbor of ours, that you have been pleased to snub so mightily, I +think we shouldn't have had a roof over our heads, nor a stitch of +clothing but what we have upon our backs. Such a crowd of incapables as +you have in your employ. Such wringing of hands, such moaning, such +flying about with no purpose. And even Peters lost his head completely. +If Mr. Andrews and Goneril hadn't set them to work, and kept them at it +till the others came, there would have been no help for us. Mr. Andrews +insisted upon my coming away, ordered me, in fact. But I forgave him +before I had got out the gate, though I was pretty mad at first." + +"I wonder if I ought not to go and see if I can be of use," said Missy, +irresolutely, rising up. + +But the start and flutter in her mother's hand made her sit down again. + +"It's my advice to you to stay where you are," said her aunt. "We are a +lot of imbeciles, all of us. We are better out of the way. It isn't very +pleasant to think of the linen closet emptied upon the lawn, and all +Yellowcoats tramping over it, but it's better than being suffocated in +the smoke, or crushed to death in the crowd." + +Missy gave her mother a reassuring pressure of the hand, and did not +move again. They were indeed a company of useless beings. It was a +strange experience to her to be sitting still and thinking the +destruction of her household goods a light misfortune. That linen +closet, from which the unaccounted-for absence of a pillow-case, would +have given her hours of annoyance; the book-cases, where order reigned +and where dust never was allowed; the precious china on the dining-room +shelves, only moved by her own hands--for all these she had not a +thought of anxiety, as she felt her mother's hand in hers. The relief +from the fears of that quarter of an hour, while she was making her way +through the crowd, had had the effect of making these losses quite +unfelt. Subdued, and nervously exhausted too, she sat beside her mother, +while the noises gradually subsided on the grounds adjoining. The house +was but a stone's throw from the road, and from the Varians' gate, and +Miss Varian, with keen ear, sitting on the piazza outside, interpreted +the sounds to those within. + +"Now the women are beginning to go home," she said. "The children are +fretting and sleepy; there, that one got a slap. Now the teams, hitched +to the trees outside, are unhitched and going away. I wonder how much +plunder is being stowed away in the bottom of the wagons. I feel as if +my bureau drawers were going off in lots to suit pilferers. There now, +the boys and men are beginning to straggle off in pairs. You may be sure +there isn't anything to see, if _they_ are going. Talk of the curiosity +of women. Men and boys hang on long after _their_ legs give out. Ah! now +we're beginning to get toward the end of the entertainment, I should +think. I hear Mr. Andrews calling out to the men to clear the grounds, +and see that the gates are shut; ah, bang goes the front gate. Well, I +should think the poor man might be tired by this time. I should think he +might come in and leave things in charge of some of those men who have +been working with him." + +The clock in the parlor struck ten, and then half-past. Eliza, who had +been watching the children, and making up some beds above, now came down +and begged Mrs. Varian to come up and go to bed, but she refused. The +other servants, who had been over at the fire, possibly helping a +little, now came in, bringing a message from Mr. Andrews, that he begged +they would all go to bed; and that everything was safe and they must +feel no anxiety. It might be some time before he could get away. Missy +persuaded her aunt and her mother to go up. Eliza conducted Miss Varian +to a small "spare" room. Missy felt a shudder as she put down her candle +on the dressing-table of the room where she had seen Mrs. Andrews die. +She hoped her mother did not know it. + +While she was arranging her for the night, she had time to observe the +room. It was very much changed since she had last been in it; the +pictures were taken from the walls, the position of the furniture +altered, she was not sure but that it was other furniture. Certainly the +sofa and footstool and large chair were gone. Mr. Andrews himself +occupied the small room on the other side of the house that he had had +from the first. This room, the largest and best in the house, had been +kept as a sort of day nursery for the children through the winter. Missy +had often thought of it as calculated to keep alive the memory of their +mother, but now it seemed, as if with purpose, that had been avoided, +and as if the whole past of the room was to be wiped out. + +It could be no chance that had worked such a change. There were holes +still in the wall where a bracket had been taken down. A new clock was +on the mantelpiece; there was literally not a thing left the same, not +even the carpet on the floor. It gave her a feeling of resentment; but +this was not the moment to feel resentment. So she went softly down the +stairs, telling her mother to try to sleep, and she would wait up, and +see if she could do anything more than thank Mr. Andrews when he came +in. This was no more than civil; but strangely, Missy did not feel +civil, as she sat counting the minutes in the parlor below. She felt as +if it were odious to be there, odious to feel that he was working for +them, that she must be grateful to him. All her past prejudices, which +had been dying out in the silence of the last few months, and under the +knowledge of his steady kindness to his children, came back as she went +up into that room, which, to her vivid imagination, must always bring +back the most painful scene she had ever witnessed. She had never +expected to enter this house again, at least while its present tenants +occupied it, and here she was, and certain to stay here for one night +and day at least. She had had none of these feelings as she sat during +the evening silently thankful beside her mother; all this tumult of +resentment had come since she had gone up-stairs. The memory of the +beautiful young creature, whose dreadful death she had witnessed, came +back to her with strange power; and the thought that she had been +banished from her children's minds made her almost vindictive. How can I +speak to him? how have I ever spoken to him? she thought, as her eyes +wandered around the room, searching for some trace of her. But it was +thoroughly a man's apartment, "bachelor quarters" indeed. Not a picture +of the woman whose beauty would have graced a palace; not a token that +she had ever been under this roof, that she had died here less than a +year ago. The nurse had come into the room as Missy sat waiting, and, +seeming to divine her thought, said, while she put straight chairs and +books: + +"Isn't it strange, Miss Rothermel, that there isn't any picture of Mrs. +Andrews anywhere about the house? I should think their father would be +afraid of the children forgetting all about her. I often talk to them +about her, but I don't know much to say, because none of us ever saw +her; and Mr. Andrews never talks about her to them, and I am sure Jay +doesn't remember her at all. There was once a little box that Jay +dragged out of a closet in the attic, and in the evening after he found +it, he was playing with it in the parlor by his father, and Gabby caught +sight of it, and cried, 'That's my mamma's box; give it to me, Jay.' +They had a little quarrel for it, and Gabby got it, and then Jay forgot +all about it, and went to play with something else. But," went on Eliza, +lowering her voice, "that evening I saw Mr. Andrews, after the children +had gone to bed, empty all Gabrielle's things out of the box, and carry +it up stairs, and put it away in a locked-up closet in the hall." + +"Probably he wanted to punish her for taking it away from Jay," said +Missy, insincerely, feeling all the time that it was not the thing for +her to be allowing Eliza to tell her this. + +"No," said Eliza, "for he brought her home a beautiful new box the next +evening, and he wouldn't have done that if he had wished to punish her, +I think." + +"Eliza, don't you think you'd better see if the fire is good in the +kitchen? Mr. Andrews might want a cup of coffee made, or something +cooked to eat. He must be very tired." + +Eliza meekly received her dismissal, and went into the kitchen. At +half-past eleven o'clock Missy heard the gate open, and went forward to +meet Mr. Andrews at the door. + +"You are very tired," she said, falteringly. + +"I believe I am," he returned, following her into the parlor. She was +shocked when she saw him fully in the light of the lamp. He looked tired +indeed, and begrimed with smoke, his coat torn, his arm tied up in a +rude fashion, as if it had been hurt. + +"Sit down," she said, hurriedly pulling out a chair. He stumbled into +it. + +"I really didn't know how tired I was," he said, laying back his head. + +"Can't I get you some coffee, or some wine? You ought to take something +at once, I think." + +"I'd like a glass of wine," he said, rather faintly. "Here's the key. +You'll find it in the sideboard." + +But when he attempted to get the hand that wasn't bandaged into his +pocket, he stopped, with a gesture of pain. + +"Confound it!" he said; "it's a strain, I suppose;" and then he grew +rather white. + +"Let me get it," said Missy, hurriedly. + +"The inside pocket of my coat--left side," he said. She fumbled in the +pocket, rather agitatedly, feeling very sorry that he was so suffering, +but not sorry enough to make her forget that it was very awkward for her +to be bending over him and searching in his inside pocket for a key. At +last she found it, and ran and fetched the wine. He seemed a little +better when he drank it. + +"What is the matter with your arm?" she said, standing by him to take +back the glass. + +"A ladder fell on it," he said. + +"And you sent for the doctor, did you?" + +"The doctor, no! What time has there been to be sending off for +doctors?" he returned, rather impatiently, turning himself in the chair, +but with a groan. Missy ran out of the room, and in two minutes somebody +was on the way to the village for the doctor. Eliza came back into the +room with her. + +"Can't you get on the sofa? and we'll make you easier," said Missy, +standing by him. + +But he shook his head. "I think I'll rest a little here," he said, "and +then get to my room." + +"I know; I've sent for the doctor, but I am afraid it will be some time +before he comes. I thought I might be doing something for your hand +that's strained; I am afraid to meddle with your arm. Do you think your +shoulder's out of place, or anything like that?" + +"No, I hardly think it is," he said. "It's more likely nothing but a +bruise; but it hurts like--thunder!" + +This last came from an attempt to get out of his chair. Missy shook up +the pillows of the sofa. + +"See," she said, "you'll be more comfortable here; let Eliza help you." +He submitted, and got to the sofa. "Now, before you lie down, let us get +your coat off," she said. She felt as if he were Jay, and must be +coaxed. But getting the coat off was not an easy matter; in fact, it was +an impossible matter. + +"It's torn a good deal," she said; "you wouldn't care if I got the +scissors and cut it a little?" + +"Cut it into slivers!" he said, concisely. He was evidently feeling +concisely, poor man! + +Eliza flew for the scissors; in a moment Missy's pretty fingers had done +the work, and the poor mutilated coat fell to the floor, a sacrifice to +neighborly devotion. "Now run and get me a pail of boiling water, and +some flannels--quick. In the meantime, Mr. Andrews, turn your hand a +little; I want to get at the button of your sleeve. Oh, dear! don't move +it; I see. Here go the scissors again. I'll mend the sleeve for you, I +promise; it's the least that I can do. There! _now_ it's all right. Now +let me get this towel under your wrist. Ah! I know it hurt; but it had +to be done. Now here's the hot water. Eliza, kneel here by Mr. Andrews; +and as fast as I hand you the flannel, put it on his wrist--see, just +there." + +Missy withdrew, and gave her place to Eliza; but the first touch of her +hands to the flannel which she was to wring out made her jump so, she +felt sure she never could do justice to them. + +"You'd better let me wring out the flannels, Miss Rothermel, and you put +them on," said Eliza. "My hands are used to hot water." So Missy went +back to her place, and knelt beside her patient, taking the steaming +flannels from Eliza's hand, and putting them on his wrist. Before she +put each one on, she held it up against her cheek, to see that it was +not too hot. She was as gentle and as tender and as coaxing as if she +were taking care of little Jay. It is a question how much sentiment a +man in severe pain is capable of feeling. But certainly it ought to have +been a solace to any one to be tended by such a sweet little nurse as +this. Who would think that she could spit fire, or snub her neighbors, +or "boss" it, even over servants? + +Missy was a born nurse. She was quick-witted, nimble-fingered, +sure-footed, and she was coaxing and tender when people were "down." She +was absolutely sweet when any one was cornered or prostrate, and +couldn't do any way but hers. + +The hot cloths, which had stung him a little at first, soon began to +relieve the pain in his wrist. + +"There, now, I told you it would. You were so good to let us do it. Do +bear it a little longer, please." + +Missy's eyes had wandered to the clock many times, and her ears had been +strained to catch the sound of the doctor's steps outside. But it was +now an hour since the messenger had gone, and it was very certain he +could not have been at home. When he might come, how many miles away he +was at this moment, it was impossible to guess. She knew very well that +the other arm was the real trouble; and she knew, too, that leaving it +for so many hours unattended to might make it a bad business. Her +experience never had gone beyond sprains and bruises, but she had the +courage of genius; she would have tackled a compound fracture if it had +come in her way. + +"That tiresome doctor," she said, sweetly. "I wonder when he'll get +here. See, I've muffled up the wrist in this hot bandage. Now suppose we +try if we can't do something for this arm over here. I'll be ever so +gentle. Now see, I didn't hurt you much before." + +Mr. Andrews' face contracted with pain as she touched his wounded arm, +even in the lightest manner. In fact, he was bearing as much pain as he +thought he could, without having it touched. But it wasn't in nature to +resist her, and he turned a little on his side, and the scissors flew up +his sleeve and laid bare the bruised, discolored arm. + +"You see," she said, softly getting a piece of oil-silk under it, "if it +is only bruised this will help it, and if it's broken or out of joint or +anything, it will not do any harm. It doesn't hurt you when I touch it +here, does it?" she went on, watching his face keenly as she passed her +hand lightly over his shoulder. + +"It hurts everywhere," he answered groaning, but he did not wince +particularly. + +"I don't believe there's any dislocation," she said cheerfully, though +not too cheerfully, for she knew better than to do that, when any one +was suffering. "I don't believe there's any dislocation, and if there +isn't, I'll soon relieve you, if you'll let me try." Eliza came back +with more hot water, and again for a patient half hour the wringing of +flannels and the application of them went on. At the end of that time, +Missy began to think there was something besides sprain and bruise, for +the patient was growing pale, and the pain was manifestly not abating. +She gave him some more wine, and bathed his head, and fanned him, and +wished for the doctor. There was no medicine in the house with which she +was familiar. Her own beloved weapons were now out of reach, and she +could not bring herself to give opium and the horrid drugs in which this +benighted gentleman still believed. Ignatia, camomilla, moschus! Ah, +what she might have done for him, if she could have known where to lay +her hand on her tiny case of medicines. She gave him more wine; that was +the only thing left for her to do, since he would probably not submit to +letting her set his arm, which she was now convinced was broken. She +felt quite capable of doing it, or of doing anything rather than sitting +still and seeing him suffer. She privately dispatched Eliza to get +bandages, and her work-basket, and to replenish the fire in the range. + +At last, at a few minutes before two o'clock, the welcome sound of the +doctor's gig driving to the gate, met her ear. She let him in, while +Eliza sat beside the patient. He looked surprised to see her, and they +both thought involuntarily of the last time they had been together in +this house. + +"You are a good neighbor," he said, taking off his hat and coat in the +hall. + +"We have had a good neighbor to-night in Mr. Andrews," said Missy, with +a little stiffness. "He has made himself ill in our service, and we +feel as if we could not do too much in taking care of him." + +"Certainly," said the doctor, searching for his case of instruments in +his pocket. "You have had a great fire, I hear. How much damage has been +done?" + +"I do not know at all. I had to stay with my mother, and Mr. Andrews is +in too much pain since he came in, to answer any questions. I am very +much afraid his arm is broken." + +"Indeed," said the doctor, comfortably, shaking down the collar of his +coat, which had been somewhat disarranged in the taking off of the +superior garment. It seemed as if he were trying how long he could be +about it. + +Missy fumed. + +"Now," he said, following her into the room. He seated himself by the +patient in a chair which Missy had set for him when she heard the gate +open, and asked him many questions, and poked about his arm and shoulder +and seemed to try to be as long in making up his mind as he had been in +getting ready to come in. + +"Well?" said Missy at last, feeling she could not bear it any longer. + +Mr. Andrews' face had expressed that he was about at the end of his +patience several minutes before. + +It was hoping too much, that he should tell them at once what was the +matter; but by and by it was allowed them to infer that Mr. Andrews' arm +was broken in two places; that the shoulder was all right, and that the +wrist was only sprained, and was much the better for the treatment it +had had. He praised Missy indirectly for her promptness, told her Mr. +Andrews might thank her for at least one hand--which he could +undoubtedly have the use of in a few days. Mr. Andrews' face showed he +wasn't prepared for being helpless for even a few days. The pain, great +as it was, could not prevent his disgust at this. + +"And how long before my arm will be fit to use?" he said shortly. + +"Better get it into the splints before we decide when we shall take it +out," said the doctor, with complacence, taking out his case of +instruments. + +He enjoyed his case of instruments, and there was so little use for it +at Yellowcoats. It was on his tongue to say something discouraging about +the length of the confinement probable, but Missy gave him a warning +look, and said cheerfully, "a broken arm is nothing; I've always thought +it the nicest accident that any one could have. Besides, it is your left +arm. You won't mind the sling at all, if you do have to wear it for a +few days longer than you might think necessary. St. John broke his arm +once when he was a boy, and it was really nothing. We were surprised to +find how soon it was all well." + +Missy spoke as if she knew all about it. + +"Then you know how to help me with the bandages?" the doctor said. + +"Oh, yes, I remember quite well." + +By the time that the arm was set, and the patient helped into his room +by the doctor and Eliza, Missy had decided that Mr. Andrews bore pain +pretty well for a man, and that the doctor was even stupider than she +had thought. She also arrived at the conclusion that the whole situation +was as awkward as possible, when the door closed upon the object of her +solicitude, and she realized that she could do him no further good. It +was only then that she became aware that she was deeply interested in +the case. To do her justice, if it had been Eliza's arm she would have +suffered a pang in giving it up. She was naturally a nurse, and +naturally enthusiastic. She had made up her mind to disregard the +doctor's orders totally and give the patient homeopathic treatment, +according to her lights. But here was conventionality coming in. She +must give him up, and he was no doubt to be shut up in that room for a +day or two at least, to be stupefied with narcotics, and then dosed with +tonics. Missy clenched her little tired hands together. Why could Eliza +go in and take care of him, and she not? She could not influence him +through Eliza, or Melinda, or the waitress. She must give up +conventionality or homeopathy. It was a struggle, but conventionality +won. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +MINE HOST. + + +Of this she was very glad the next morning: conventionality is best by +daylight. She woke with a feeling that it was exceedingly awkward to be +in Mr. Andrews' house, and to have no house of her own to go to. When +she came down-stairs, Eliza was just putting Mr. Andrews' breakfast on a +tray. She said he had had no sleep, and seemed to be uncomfortable. The +breakfast-tray did not look very inviting, so Missy reconstructed it +and sent it in, brightened with some white grapes that the gardener had +just brought to the door, and three or four soft-looking roses, with the +dew upon them. + +"Tell Mr. Andrews I hope he will let us know if there is anything we can +do for him," she said, half ashamed, as Eliza went up-stairs with the +tray. + +By this time Miss Varian had come down-stairs, and Goneril, very tired +and cross, twitched some chairs and a footstool about for her; and Anne, +looking oddly out of place, came in to know if she should carry Mrs. +Varian's breakfast up to her. It was all very strange and uncomfortable. +The servants had evidently spent much of their time in talking over the +incidents of the fire, and Melinda was late with her breakfast. Missy +couldn't imagine where they had all slept; but here they all were--two +cooks in the kitchen, two waitresses in the dining-room, two maids in +the parlor, and no breakfast ready. Miss Varian felt very irritable; the +children had waked her by five o'clock with their noise, and she could +not go to sleep again. The absence of her usual toilet luxuries +exasperated her, and all the philosophy which she had displayed the +night before forsook her. She scolded everybody, including Mr. Andrews, +who was to blame for having such a hard bed in his spare room, and the +cook, who was so late in getting breakfast ready. Missy disdained to +answer her, but she felt as cross, in her way. The children, who had +been sent out of doors to allow Miss Varian to go to sleep again, now +came bursting in, and made matters worse by their noise. They were full +of news about the fire, and, to judge by their smutty hands and aprons, +had been cruising round the forbidden spot. + +"Jay, if you love me," said Missy, putting her hands to her ears, "be +quiet and don't talk any more about the fire. Let me eat my breakfast, +and forget my miseries." + +But Gabrielle could not be silenced, though Jay, when the hominy came, +gave himself to that. She always had information to impart, and this +occasion was too great to be lost. She told Missy everything she didn't +want to hear, from the destruction of the flowerbeds by the crowd, to +the remarks of the boys at the stable, about her father's broken arm. + +"They said he was a fool, to work so hard for nothing; they expected to +be paid, but he didn't. Then Peters said 'maybe he expects to be paid as +well as you,' and then they all laughed. What did they all laugh for, +Missy, and do you suppose my father does expect to be paid?" + +"I suppose you were where you had no business to be," said Missy, +shortly. "Now, if you will eat your breakfast, and be silent, we shall +thank you." + +Then Gabby retired into the hominy and there was a silence if not a +peace. It was a dull morning--much fog, and little life in the air. +Missy hadn't even looked out of the window. She dreaded the thought of +what she was to see on the other side of the hedge. If it had been +possible, she would have delayed the work that lay before her; but she +was goaded on now by the thought that if she did not hurry, they must +spend another night here, and eat another breakfast to the accompaniment +of Gabby's information and observation. It was ten o'clock before she +could get away, leaving directions to the servants to follow her. + +It was a dismal scene; the faultless lawn trampled and torn up, the +vines torn from the piazza and lying stretched and straggling on the +ground. The windows were curtainless, the piazza steps broken, the +piazza piled with ladders and steps and buckets; the front door had a +black eye. There was at this side of the house not much evidence of the +fire, but at the rear it was much worse. The summer parlor was badly +damaged, the sashes quite burnt black, the ceiling all defaced. The +flames had reached the room above, Missy's own room, and here had been +stayed. The windows were broken out, a good deal of the woodwork +charred, and the walls much damaged with water. These two rooms were all +that were seriously injured. It was quite wonderful that the damage had +gone no further; there had been no wind, and Mr. Andrews had been on the +spot; if they had not had these two things in their favor, the house +must have gone. Peters had shown himself a respectable donkey, and none +of the women but Goneril proved to have any head in such an emergency. +Missy tried to be comforted by the smallness of the material injury. But +the desolation and disorder of the pretty rooms! In her own, Missy +fairly cried. She felt completely _dépaysée_. A few hundred dollars and +a few weeks would put it all in order again, but Missy was not in a +philosophic mood. She felt herself an outcast and a wanderer, and +turning bitterly from the scorched spot, vowed never to love anything +again. + +By this time the clumsy Peters and the headless maids had come up to be +set to work. So turning the keys on the damaged rooms, she followed them +out and began to try roughly to get the furniture back into the rooms +to which it belonged. Her ambition, at present, was to get her mother's +and her aunt's rooms in order to have them return that night, and the +kitchen so far reconstructed that the servants might do their work. But +at night-fall, the prospect was so dismal, the hall so encumbered with +unbestowed goods, the workmen so tardy, the progress so small, that +Missy reluctantly acknowledged she would be cruel to her mother, if she +insisted on bringing her back to such a scene of desolation. She must be +contented to accept Mr. Andrews' considerate hospitality. He had sent +over Eliza with a message at lunch time, in which he took it for granted +that they were to stay there for the present, and covered all the ground +of an invitation, and was less offensive. It was understood and +inevitable, and so she tried to take it. + +The rain came down heavily at six o'clock; as she locked herself out of +the front door, and wrapping her waterproof around her, went down the +wet steps, and out on the soaking ground, feeling tired and heartsick, +she could not but contrast the scene with that of last evening, when, +under the smiling rosy sunset, she had come down the steps on her way +out to her stolen row upon the bay. It seemed a year ago, instead of a +day. Ann followed close behind her, with various articles for the +comfort of her mother. At the door of the Andrews' house Ann took off +her mistress' waterproof and overshoes. + +"I am almost too tired to speak, Ann," she said. "I shall go up-stairs +and lie down, and you may bring me a cup of tea. I don't want any +dinner." + +But once up-stairs, Missy found she must change her plans, and forget +her weariness. Her mother was quite unable to go down to dinner; indeed, +was only waiting for her tea, to try to quiet herself with a view to +getting a tolerable night. Miss Varian had a violent attack of +neuralgia; the whole house had been laid under tribute to alleviate her +sufferings. She was to have her dinner in bed, and had ordered the house +to be kept perfectly quiet after she had partaken of that meal. Eliza, +the waitress, no less than Goneril, had been actively running up and +down stairs, to take her orders to the kitchen. Melinda had received +directions from Mr. Andrews to cook an unusually elaborate dinner, to do +honor to the guests. Ann had confided this to Mrs. Varian in the +afternoon. She thought it such a pity, for she knew nobody would eat it. +And now, when Missy told her mother, as she took off her hat, that she +was going to lie down and have a cup of tea, Mrs. Varian made an +exclamation of regret. + +"The meals that have gone up and down stairs to-day in this house!" she +said. "Mr. Andrews, poor man, doesn't eat much, but it has to be carried +to him. And your aunt has had her lunch in many varieties, and now her +dinner. And I, alas! And now, if you can't go down, my dear, and the +fine dinner has to go off the table without any one even to look at it, +it will be unfortunate. You don't think you could go down just for the +form of it, and try to eat something? Eliza has had to get out some of +the silver that has been packed away, and I have heard much consultation +outside about table-cloths. It does seem very awkward. Three guests, and +all demanding to be served with dinner in their own rooms. Poor Missy, +it always comes on you. There now, don't mind a word of what I've said, +but stay here and rest, I know you need it." + +For Missy had thrown herself down into a chair, and looked just ready to +cry. She was quite overstrained, and if ever any woman needed a cup of +tea and the luxury of being let alone, that woman was Missy. + +"Of course I can go down," said Missy, with something between sobbing +and spitting fire. "I can do anything in the world--but hold my tongue," +she added, as she saw her mother look distressed. "Oh, of course I'll go +down, I don't really mind it. I shan't have even to smooth my hair. For +as there will be no critics but the children and the waitress, I may be +saved that effort. I suppose I must praise the dinner liberally, to make +Melinda happy. Oh, I _am_ so tired. My hands feel as if they were full +of splinters and nails, and I can't go across the room to wash them. I +wonder if the waitress would care if I didn't wash them. I'm sure I +shouldn't. By the way, I must ring for Ann and tell her I am going down +to dinner, or the best table-cloth will be taken off before I see it." + +Ann took down the message in time to stay the spoliation of the table, +and when dinner was served, came up to say so to her mistress. She was +too tired to do more than wash her hands; she did not even look in the +glass. She felt hysterical as well as weary, and said to herself, if +Gabrielle says anything hateful, I shall certainly make a scene. The +lights hurt her eyes as she went into the dining-room. Jay laid hold of +her hand, and kissed it with fervor, and then pulled a bow off the side +of her dress, to make up for the caress. + +"So we are to have dinner together, are we, you and I and Gabby," she +said, sinking into her chair, and pointing Jay to his. + +"And papa," said Gabby, with a keenly interested look. "Didn't you know +he was coming down to dinner?" + +"No," said Missy, feeling herself grow red. "I thought he wasn't well +enough." + +At this moment, the door opened, and Mr. Andrews came in. + +"I did not think you were able to come down," Missy said, rather +awkwardly, rising. "You must excuse me--for--for taking my seat before +you came." + +"It was so tiresome staying up stairs," said Mr. Andrews simply, and +they took their places silently. + +The two children's seats had been placed opposite to Missy. But Jay +refused to submit to this arrangement, and kicked against the table legs +and cried till he was carried around to sit by Missy. He certainly +behaved very badly, and made them all uncomfortable. Then, when they had +got partly over this, and were trying to talk a little, Gabby took +occasion to say, when there was a pause in the rather forced +conversation, critically looking across at Missy: + +"If you had known papa was coming down, would you have brushed your +hair, do you think, Missy?" + +The waitress, Missy was sure, suppressed a sudden giggle. Missy was so +angry, and so agitated, she grew pale instead of red. + +"I am sure I should," she said, deliberately, looking at her. "And +perhaps, have put another cravat on, for this one, I am afraid, is +rather dusty." + +"Why didn't you put it on any way," said Jay. + +"Why, because little children are not supposed to know or care; but for +grown people, we have to try to be polite." + +These brave words over, Missy felt she had done all that was possible in +self-defense, and began to feel as if she should cry at the next +assault. Poor Mr. Andrews looked bitterly annoyed. He was so pale and +ill-looking, and had made such an effort to come down and be hospitable, +that Missy's heart was softened. She resolved to make it easy for him, +so she began to talk about the condition of the house and to ask +questions and get advice. But the poor man was too ill, and too +straightforward to talk about anything he wasn't thinking about. The +presence of Gabrielle made him nervous as a woman; every time she opened +her mouth, if only to ask for a glass of water, he was sure she was +going to say something terrible. Such a dinner. Melinda's nice dishes +went away almost untouched, almost unseen. At last Gabrielle, reassured +by the subjection in which she found her elders, ventured upon that +which lay nearest her heart, namely, the topic of discussion in the +stable that morning. + +"Papa," she said, in a very insinuating voice, and with a glance around, +"_do_ you expect to be paid for--" + +But Missy was too quick for her. She started to her feet, the color +flaming to her face. + +"Gabrielle, I forbid you to speak another word while I am in the room. +Mr. Andrews, you must excuse me--I am very sorry to make you so +uncomfortable, but I cannot--stand it--any longer," and with an +hysterical choke she sprang to the door. + +When she was gone, I wouldn't have been in Gabby's place for a good +deal. Fortunately the waitress was out of the room when the fracas +occurred, and when she came back, she was at liberty to suppose that the +furious punishment bestowed upon Gabrielle was in consequence of an +overturned glass of wine which was bedewing the best table-cloth. Some +gentlemen are so particular about their table linen. She had not seen +this side of Mr. Andrews' character before, but then, to be sure, they +had never used the best linen since she had been in the family. + +When Missy, panting and hysterical, reached the top of the stairs, she +didn't know exactly what to do. She knew very well if she took refuge in +her mother's room (which was her own, too), she destroyed all chance of +sleep for her mother that night. She couldn't go into the nursery, where +Gabby would probably be sent for punishment. She couldn't seek the sweet +shelter of Miss Harriet Varian's sympathy, and it wasn't dignified to +sit on the stairs. What was she to do? Just at this moment, Goneril came +softly out of her mistress' room. + +"Is Miss Varian asleep?" asked Missy, in a low tone. + +"Heaven be praised, SHE IS!" returned Goneril, with great fervor. + +"Then I will go and sit by her till you get your dinner," she said, +going past her into the room. Here was refuge and darkness, and she sat +down in an easy chair near the door. How little consolation there was in +being quiet, though, and thinking. She was so enraged--so humiliated. +She had fought clear of the embarrassment and disgrace of last autumn, +and had flattered herself she had conquered both herself and gossip; +and now it was all to be done over again. She had no heart to begin +again. She was going away. She would go away. There was no reason she +should not have her way, sometimes. There was a good excuse for a +summer's absence. They would leave the carpenters and painters in the +house--she didn't care for the house now, and what they did to it--and +they would go to the mountains till she had got over this miserable +sensitiveness, and till the Andrews' had got tired of Yellowcoats. Oh, +that that might be soon! She never wanted to see one of the name again, +not even Jay. (She had had these reflections before, and had thought +better of them, at least as concerned Jay.) By and by, while she was +still solacing herself with plans for flight, she heard the children +come up-stairs, Jay fretting, as if he felt the discomfort in the air. +Gabrielle was very silent. Eliza was rather hurried; she was human, +though a good nurse, and there was a large and cheerful circle sitting +down around the kitchen table to an unusually good dinner. It was rather +hard lines to be putting the children to bed, when they ought to have +stayed up, as they always did, until she had had her dinner. Now +everything seemed out of joint for some reason, and the children as +troublesome as possible. Eliza, excellent servant though she was, was +but a servant, and to sit pat-patting Jay, while the festive circle +down-stairs were getting through the choicest bits of pastry and of +gossip, required more patience than she had. The children were hustled +into their night-clothes rather hastily. Gabrielle, sulky and white, +offered only slight petulant resistance, but Jay cried and grew +worse-tempered every minute. At last Eliza got them both into bed and +turned down the lamp. + +"Now go to sleep, like a good boy," she said, tucking in the clothes of +Jay's crib; but there was restlessness in her very tone, and though she +sat down, she did not convey the idea of permanence, and Jay grew wider +awake every moment, watching lest she should go away. At length, +starting up impatiently, she cried: + +"There's reason in all things. You're big enough to go to sleep by +yourself. I must have my dinner." + +And without a look behind, she hurried from the room. This had never +happened before. She had always occupied herself in putting away the +children's clothes, and in moving softly about the room, and singing in +a low voice; and so Jay, without being absolutely coddled, had always +fallen asleep with a sense of protection and companionship. But to-night +everything was going wrong. Here was papa in such an awful way, and +Missy running away from the table crying, and Gabby scared to death and +punished--and now his nurse getting cross, and going down and leaving +him all alone in the dark. There had been vague and terrible stories of +what came in the dark, during the reign of Alphonsine and Bridget, which +had not been quite obliterated. + +Jay lay mute with amazement for a moment; and then, sitting up in bed, +and looking into the dimness surrounding him, began to cry piteously, +and to call upon Eliza to come back. But Eliza was out of reach of his +cries now, and Gabby, stubborn and wicked, would not open her lips. He +cried and sobbed till his throat felt sore and his head burning. + +"Missy, Missy! I want you, Missy!" + +Missy had listened, with vexation at Eliza, but with no intention of +taking up her duties, till that plaintive cry smote her heart and melted +it. The poor little lonely child, with no love but the unsteady love of +hirelings! She started up and stole into the nursery. The cry with which +Jay flung himself into her arms made him dearer to her than ever before. +He clung to her, all trembling and beating, his wet little face buried +in her neck. + +"You won't go away and leave me, you won't, promise me, Missy, you won't +go." + +"No, Jay, my own little man, I won't. Lie down; I promise you, I'll +stay." + +Every one else had failed him, but he still believed in Missy. So he was +pacified and reassured, and after awhile lay down, holding both her +hands. She let down the side of his crib, and sitting beside him, laid +her head on his pillow; he put one hand on her throat, and held the +other tight in one of hers, and so, after awhile, he fell asleep. But a +ground-swell of sobs still heaved his breast after such a heavy storm. +Missy held the little warm hand tight, and kissed him in his sleep. She +had promised not to go, and she dared not move his hand from her neck, +nor stir her head from the pillow for fear of waking him. + +The room was still and dim, and she was very tired, by and by the +troubles of the day melted into dreams, and she slept. How long, she +could not tell. A light gleaming in her face aroused her; she started up +in sudden consternation, for Mr. Andrews stood looking at her, in, it +must be said, equal consternation. He had moved the screen from the +nursery lamp, and coming up to the bed to look at his boy, had seen the +not unpretty, but very unexpected picture of the two sleeping in this +close embrace. + +Missy's first feeling was one of anger; but surely Mr. Andrews had a +right in his own nursery, and, as usual, she was in the wrong--she was +where she had no business to be; her bitter vexation showed itself on +her face. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, stepping back, "I--I didn't know you were +here." + +"Jay cried so, I came in to pacify him," she said, "and he would not let +me go." + +"You are very kind to him," said the father earnestly. + +"Not particularly," she returned, fastening up the side of the crib, and +laying him softly further over on his pillow. "One doesn't like to see a +child imposed upon, and Eliza was very wrong to leave him." + +"Miss Rothermel," said Mr. Andrews, still earnestly, and Miss Rothermel +prepared herself for something she did not want to hear, "I have no +words to express to you the annoyance that I feel about Gabrielle." + +Missy waved her hand impatiently. + +"But I have words to express a resolution that I have formed this +evening, and that is, that it shall be the last time that you shall +suffer from her. I shall send her away to boarding-school as soon as I +can make the necessary arrangements; and that I hope will be within a +week, at furthest." + +It was now Missy's turn to be in earnest. + +"I hope you won't do anything of the kind, Mr. Andrews, on my account at +least. I can only assure you, it would be far more annoying than +anything she has ever done. I should never forgive myself for having +caused you to do what I am quite sure would be the worst thing for her. +She is very well situated now. You have good servants, she has the free +country life she needs, and no bad companions. If she can't improve now, +I'm afraid she never will." + +"I'm afraid she never will, wherever she may be," answered Mr. Andrews, +with almost a groan. "I could tell you something of her, if--if--" + +"I am sure of one thing," rushed on Missy, not heeding what she might +have heard if she had listened; "I am sure of one thing, I should never +have a moment's peace, if I felt I had been in any way the cause of +sending from her home such a desolate little child. I cannot forget that +I had a friendship for her mother, and I should be always followed by +the thought of her reproach." + +Mr. Andrews' face changed; he bent his head slightly. The change was not +lost on Missy. + +"Besides that feeling," she said, with a touch of bitterness, "which, I +have no doubt, you look upon as a weak piece of sentiment, I don't see +what difference her going or staying can make to me. It would be a pity +to do her an injury which would do no one any good. I shall not +necessarily see her half-a-dozen times, before we go away, which, I +hope, we shall do for the summer, very shortly. And when we come back +Jay will have forgotten me, or you will all, perhaps, have left the +place. It is really too much said already on a subject which is very +insignificant, though it has proved sufficiently disagreeable." And she +moved as if to go away. + +"I quite agree with you that it has been very disagreeable; but I don't +entirely see that what you have said alters my duty in the matter. I +think she has deserved to be sent away; I am not sure that the +discipline of a school would not be the best thing for her. I am quite +sure that it is not my duty to destroy my own peace, or deprive my +little boy of friends or kindness, by keeping her at home." + +"Not your duty, Mr. Andrews!" cried Missy. "Well, of course we look at +things from such different points, it's no use discussing--" + +"We will waive the discussion of my duty," said Mr. Andrews, not +urbanely; "but I should be very glad to know why you think it would hurt +Gabrielle to send her to a good school?" + +Like all home-bred girls, she had a great horror of boarding-schools, +and with vivacity gave a dozen reasons for her horror, winding up +with--"I believe it would make her a hundred times more deceitful than +she is now. It would establish her thirst for intrigue; it would +estrange her from you; it would deprive her of the little healthy love +that she has for out-door life and innocent amusement. If you want to +ruin Gabrielle, Mr. Andrews, _pray_ send her to a boarding-school!" + +"I don't want to ruin Gabrielle, but I want to have a little peace +myself, and to let my neighbors have some, too." + +"Your neighbors' peace needn't be considered, after--after we go away +from the house; and I am sure you have frightened her enough to-night to +make her behave better while we are obliged to stay with you." + +As soon as the words were out, Missy shivered at their sound. She did +not mean to be so rude. + +"I beg your pardon," she said, not with successful penitence; "but you +know we did not impose our selves upon you from choice." + +"I know you would not have come if you could have helped it, certainly. +I am not to blame for that, however." + +"Well, I'm sure I didn't mean to blame any one. You must excuse me; I am +very tired to-night. Only let Gabrielle's matter be considered settled, +won't you? I shall thank you very much, if you will promise me she +shan't be sent away." + +The father glanced at the small white bed, where Gabrielle lay +motionless, with her eyes shut and her face turned from them, presumably +asleep. + +"I won't take any step about sending her away, if you feel so about +it--for a little while, at least." + +"Very well; thank you! Then it is settled. Good night." And Missy went +away, not exactly, it must be owned, as if she had received a favor, but +as if hardly-wrung justice had been obtained for Gabrielle and +Gabrielle's dead mother. That, at least, was how she felt--and Mr. +Andrews wasn't altogether stupid. He sighed as he bent over Jay's crib, +and smoothed the hair back on his pillow, screening the light from his +eyes, and turning down the lamp; but he did not go near the bed of the +offending Gabrielle, and left the room without another glance in her +direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +YELLOWCOATS CALLS TO INQUIRE. + + +The next morning, Missy managed to get away without encountering any one +more formidable than Jay and the servants. Mr. Andrews probably made an +intentionally late breakfast, and Gabrielle was more than willing to +keep out of sight. Matters at the house she found in worse confusion +than ever. The only plumber in the village was more eminent for +good-nature than for skill. He doctored furnaces and ranges, cooking +stoves and "air-tights," but it must be said he was more successful with +the latter. Water-backs, and traps, and reservoirs had grown up since he +learned his trade, but, like a good-natured creature, he put his hand to +whatever was asked of him, and sometimes succeeded in patching up leaks, +and sometimes didn't. He was the worst berated man in Yellowcoats, but +in the greatest demand. No one's wrath lasted out the first glance of +his good-humored face. He never thought of keeping his word; indeed, it +would have needed a great deal of principle to do it. The one that was +first, got him, whether prince or peasant, and generally found it +necessary to mount guard over him till the job was finished. He was +willing to work all day, and all night, irrespective of meals or sleep. +Such good-nature could not fail to be rewarded, and so every one "put +up" with him, and he was not supplanted. + +His yesterday's work at the Varians', however, had not been a success. +He had left the range in a lamentable condition; something very +distressing was the matter with the water-back, and the fire could not +be made. The house-cleaners were all at a loss for hot water; trusting +in his promise to be on hand the first thing in the morning, they had +all waited for him, without sending in to Miss Rothermel. Upon inquiry, +it was found that a magnate in the horse-and-cow business, some miles +distant, had come to grief in the matter of his tin roof, and had +captured Mike at an early hour, and was probably even now mounting guard +over him, and it was believed that no threats or entreaties would induce +him to give him up till the roof was water-tight. As it was a very bad +roof, and had been in Mike's hands for years, it seemed probable that +nothing short of a day or two would answer for its repair. Still, +several hours of Peters' time was taken up in going over to appeal to +the sense of honor of the horse-and-cow man. In the meanwhile, it was +deplorable to see what a motive power hot water was, and how difficult +it was to get it, when once one has come to depend upon a boiler. Very +little could be done except in the small matter of putting drawers and +closets in order. The women sat about the kitchen and berated Mike, +unable even to get a bit of dinner cooked. + +At three o'clock, Peters returned to say that there was no hope. The +horse-and-cow man had taken the ladder away from the roof, and declared +Mike shouldn't come down till the leaks were stopped, if it took him +till November. Of course the house could not be habitable till the range +was in order. Missy with a groan acknowledged her fate, and decided it +was meant by destiny, that she should stay at Mr. Andrews' till +everybody in the village was saturated with the intelligence. + +She had been away from her mother all day, and Ann had reported her as +was not feeling quite so well, so at half past three o'clock, she had +turned her back upon the desolation, and leaving the servants to do what +little they could or would, went back to sit with her mother for the +rest of the afternoon, which had turned out fine and sunny. + +Mrs. Varian was suffering quietly, as usual, but was very glad to have +her daughter for a little while. The room was quiet and cool, and in an +easy chair by the window, Missy found a little rest. She read aloud to +her mother for awhile; but there soon began to be distractions. + +"Mamma, here are the Wellses going in at our gate. I hope they'll enjoy +the sight of the battered steps and the trampled lawn." + +"It is but civil of them to come and leave a card, at all events." + +"Ah, and here goes somebody else. Who is it, with such a pretty pony +phaeton, and a puny little footman, and a pug dog? It must be the +Oldhams. I didn't know they had come up. Well, I hope Ann has on a +respectable cap, and that the bell wires are not broken, as it seems +probable all Yellowcoats will call to inquire for us to-day." + +"I am sure it is very kind of Yellowcoats. Why do you speak so, Missy? +You surely can't resent it." + +Missy bit her lips; she had a resentment that she had never let her +mother share. Yes, she did resent it. It was bitter to her to know that +they were all coming, and that every one would know where they had +found asylum, and that all the old story of last September would be +revived. She was quite correct in thinking that all Yellowcoats was on +its way there that afternoon. Ann must have had a lively time answering +the bell and the questions. + +It was now the third day since the fire. The second day had been a +stormy one, and the sunshine seemed to have come on purpose to +disseminate the gossip. Missy, from behind the blinds, watched the +carriages drive in. There were Oldhams, country Oldhams and city +Oldhams, a family far reaching and intricately entwined in Yellowcoats' +connections. It was not safe to say anything anti-Oldham to any one in +Yellowcoats, for they were related to everybody, gentle and simple, in +the place. There came the Roncevalles, who had two men on the box, and +were debonair and rich and easy-going. There were the Sombreros, in a +heavy, not recent carriage, driven by a man who did not even hold +himself straight, and who couldn't have been dragooned into a livery. +But the inmates of the carriage held themselves straight, and other +people had to walk straight before them. If the object of mankind is to +secure the respect of its fellows, they had attained that object. People +of manifold more pretension quailed before their silent disapprobation. +They "rode their sure and even trot, while now the world rode by, now +lagged behind." Missy felt a sharper pang of wonder what the Sombreros +had heard about her, than what the people with the two men on the box, +or the black ponies and the pug dog had heard; she felt that the +Sombreros would never change their minds, and minds that don't change +are to be held in awe. She saw them drive away with a heavier sense of +apprehension than she had felt before. But they did not turn and look +towards the Andrews' cottage, as the others did. Missy felt sure the two +men on the box of the Roncevalles' carriage nudged each other; the two +ladies in the carriage certainly did turn and look that way; very gently +and decorously, but still they turned. + +By and by a carriage coming out met a carriage driving in, directly +before the Andrews' house. They stopped. The ladies bent eagerly forward +and talked in low tones; more than one glance flashed towards the closed +blinds of the widower's house. Missy's cheeks were scarlet and her +breath came quick; but she was fascinated and could not look away. It +was gentle Mrs. Olor and her pretty young daughters--who could dread +anything from them? Stirring Mrs. Eve was just giving them the +information that she had received from the waitress at the Varians' +door. She was the kindest and busiest person in Yellowcoats, but she had +a sense of humor, and she also was very particular about her own +daughters, one of whom was with her in the carriage. Who could doubt +what view she took of Miss Rothermel's aspirations? Missy watched +breathlessly the faces; the mammas alone talked, the daughters listened, +with smiles and rather pursed-up mouths. Superior the whole party seemed +to feel themselves, as people always seem to feel when they have a +little story against their neighbors, not reflecting that their own turn +may come next. Missy had felt superior for twenty-seven years, though +she hadn't talked more gossip than most other well-disposed and +well-bred persons. Still, she had felt superior, and it was horrid to +be made to feel inferior, and she bit her lips, and angry tears came up +into her eyes. Her mother lay watching her silently on the bed. + +"Well, Sister Anne, Sister Anne, do you see anybody coming?" she said at +last, gently. + +Missy forced herself to speak indifferently, "Only the Olors and the +Eves. They have met just outside the gate, and are mincing us quite +fine, I should judge from their animated looks." + +"Well, I hope they haven't anything worse to say of us than that we've +had a fire, and that the place looks sadly out of trim." + +"Mamma," said Missy abruptly, as with wreathed smiles the friends parted +and the carriages drove away, "what do you say to a journey this summer? +I'm sadly cut up about this fire. I never shall have the heart to get +things in order before autumn; I'm tired of Yellowcoats for the first +time in my life, and--I want to go away." + +"Go away, Missy! How could we do that? I fear I am not strong enough; +and your Aunt Harriet--you know we resolved two years ago, we'd never +try it again. She is so hard to please, and you remember what a trial we +found the whole three months." + +"It would be less of a trial than staying here. I, for one, would be +glad to risk it. And as to you, I sometimes feel sure you need a change +more than anything." + +Mrs. Varian shook her head. "I need rest more than anything." + +"Invalids always feel that, and yet see what benefit they get from +journeys that they have dreaded." + +"Besides," said the mother rather hesitatingly "you know there is +always a chance of St. John's return." + +"I didn't know," said Missy, a little coldly. + +"You know as much as I do," returned her mother. "You saw his last +letter. He says all depends upon his being accepted. He may come back at +any time." + +"Oh, as to that," cried Missy, "I think there is no danger that he will +not be accepted. It would surprise me very much if he escaped. A man +with a handsome income is generally found to have a vocation." + +"You have been reading too much Browning and Balzac, I am afraid," said +her mother with a sigh. + +"I have been reading life, and hard, common sense," cried Missy. "I +ought to have been prepared to find we were all to sit meekly waiting at +home, while the saint of the family was on probation. It ought to be +honor enough. But I admit I would like to have a voice in my sacrifices, +and to make them self-denials." + +"It is new to me to imagine you finding your pleasure anywhere but at +home. Since you feel so about it, I am sure--" + +"Oh, don't say anything more about it," cried Missy, thoroughly +unhinged. "I can stay here, I suppose. I really am not quite new at +doing what I don't like, even if I am only secular." + +"You are tired, Missy. Now go and lie down, and don't think anything +more about this matter. When we are both fresher, we will talk it over, +and you shall decide what shall be done." + +At half-past five o'clock she got up, and dressed carefully for dinner, +bracing herself for the ordeal with much philosophy. At dinner, she +found her philosophy quite superfluous, for Mr. Andrews did not make +his appearance, and Gabby scarcely lifted her eyes from her plate. This +young person had been awake the night before, and an attentive listener +to the conversation between her father and Missy, and it had naturally +made a profound impression on her. It is difficult to say why Missy felt +annoyed that Mr. Andrews did not come to dinner. She ought to have felt +relieved; but on the contrary, she felt vexed. It is always disagreeable +not to act your part when you have rehearsed it, and feel well up in it. +But it was a great vexation to her to think that she was keeping him +from his own dinner-table by reason of that unpleasant speech of the +night before. She had only realized that he wasn't at breakfast at the +time, with a sense of relief. She now remembered it with a sensation of +chagrin. Also, she recalled his pallor and weariness of expression last +night, which in her misery about herself, she had forgotten. It was +possible he was really suffering to-day. It was only three days since he +had met with a serious accident, all in their service. + +"How is Mr. Andrews feeling to-day?" she asked of the waitress. + +"Not quite so well, Miss, I think." + +"Has he kept his room?" + +"Oh, no, Miss, but he doesn't seem to have much appetite, and I believe +the doctor told him he mustn't think of going to town for several days +yet. He had been telling the doctor he was going down, and would stay +away perhaps a week, and promised to keep very quiet there. But the +doctor wouldn't hear of it, and said the hot weather might come on +suddenly, and make him very sick, and besides, he wasn't fit to bear the +journey." + +Missy was quite chagrined by this information. Mr. Andrews had felt so +constrained and uncomfortable in his own house, he could not bear it any +longer. Or else he had so honorably desired to put her at her ease while +she had to stay, that he had wanted to go away. Either view of the case +was bad enough; but it was undeniably an awkward situation, and if he +persisted in keeping away from the table for another meal, she should +feel that it was unendurable, and they must go away, range or no range, +order or disorder. + +Jay followed her from the table, clinging to her skirts. She went +directly to her mother, where the child's prattle covered her +absent-minded silence. + +It was a lovely June evening, fresh after the rain of yesterday, and she +sat by the window watching the pink clouds fade into gray, and the +twilight make its way over the fields and roadside. Jay babbled his +innocent babble to inattentive ears; by and by he grew sleepy. Eliza +came, and he was sent away. + +It was about half-past eight, when the servant came up, and said that +there was a person below who wished to see Mrs. or Miss Varian. Missy +struck a match and looked at the card. It was the agent of the insurance +company, in which the house had been insured. + +"Why could he not come in the daytime! I absolutely can't talk business +to-night." + +The servant explained that he came up by the evening train, had been at +the house, and was to go away by an early train in the morning. + +There was no help for it; Missy dismissed the pink clouds and the soft +creeping twilight and her thoughts, and went down stairs to the parlor. +The room was lighted only by a lamp which stood on the table in the +middle of it, by which the agent sat. He was a trim, dapper, middle-aged +man, not at all aware that he was not a gentleman, and very sharp about +business matters, while he was affable and explanatory, as became a +business man dealing with a young lady. His manner annoyed Missy, who +would have got on much better if he had been simply business-like. She +knew he had the better of her in his knowledge of matters, and her +memory was very unusually faulty about the things she ought to have +remembered. The papers were all in her room at home, and for aught she +knew, had been lost or destroyed when that room was torn to pieces to +save it from the flames. She certainly had not been wise enough to think +of looking for them since the fire occurred. + +"You will have to come again," she said; "I really am not prepared +to-night to talk it over." + +He seemed disposed to take advantage of this, and rather pressed an +immediate decision on some question. + +It was not till this moment that Missy knew that Mr. Andrews was in the +room. He was lying on a sofa in a corner, and a screen stood before him, +shielding him from the light. + +"Mr. Andrews, I beg your pardon," she said, getting up. "I am afraid we +are disturbing you. I didn't know you were here. We will go into the +dining-room if this gentleman has anything more to say." + +"I don't think he has," said Mr. Andrews, raising himself a little on +his elbow. "Don't think of going to the dining-room, or of discussing +the matter further, for I am sure you are too tired to-night. Perhaps I +can attend to the matter for you." + +An inquiring look towards the agent had a very salutary effect upon him. +It was quite amazing to notice how his manner changed when he found he +had a man to deal with. Missy sat by humbled, while she listened to +their talk. + +Why couldn't she have been business-like? Why couldn't she have said +what Mr. Andrews was saying, without "losing her head," and getting +nervous? It was her affair, and she certainly ought to know more about +it than he did. + +When the man was fairly out of the door, she gave a sigh, and said: + +"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Andrews, for helping me out of it." + +"I think the man is rather a sharper, and I'm afraid you are not a +business woman, Miss Rothermel." + +"I am afraid not; and I always meant to be." + +Then there was a pause. Mr. Andrews laid his head back on the pillow of +the sofa, and seemed not to have anything more to say. Missy had a great +deal to say, but she didn't know where to begin. She was full of +contrition and purposes of amendment; but the situation was most +embarrassing, and Mr. Andrews was not inclined to help her. Time +pressed. It was insupportable to sit still by the lamp, and not say +anything. Mr. Andrews was lying down, too. What if any one should come +in, and find her sitting there, entertaining him? She wished for Aunt +Harriet--for any one; but she must say her say; and she rushed at it. + +"I am afraid," she said, in a voice that showed agitation, "I am afraid +you are not so well to-day, Mr. Andrews." + +"I have had an uncomfortable day; but I don't suppose I am materially +worse--at least the doctor doesn't tell me so." + +Then another pause. Certainly he did not mean to help her. + +"I am afraid," she said, getting up, and laying down upon the table the +paper-cutter that she had been turning and twisting in her fingers, "I +am afraid our being here makes you very uncomfortable. And it ought to +be just the other way. We are so much indebted to you! You have been so +good--and--and--" + +She made a step toward him, and standing behind the screen in front of +his sofa, which came up to her waist, leaned on it for a moment, looking +down--then said, "I don't know how to express it, exactly; I hope you'll +understand. I know I haven't behaved well about--about--things--but I +suppose I had some excuse. It is so hard to remember one's own +insignificance, and to think only about other people! I have thought of +no one's discomforts or miseries but my own. I haven't been nice at all; +I've been horrid. I never should have believed it of myself. At my age +it seems so paltry and undignified to be minding what people may say or +think, if only you know you're doing right. I have resolved I will never +let it come into my mind again, nor affect my conduct in any way. And I +hope you will excuse my rudeness, and the discomfort I have caused you, +and will let me make up for it in some way, while we stay with you." + +He lay looking at her as she stood behind the screen, leaning a little +toward him on her folded arms. The only light in the room was behind +her, shining through her fair, fine hair, now in a little curling +disorder; all her face was in shadow. It is possible she looked to the +lonely man almost a "blessed damosel," leaning to him out of Heaven. + +"You have made up for it," he said, "very fully. I hope we shall always +be friends, if you will let me." + +"It shan't be my fault if we are not," she said. Then, hurriedly saying +good-night, she went away. There was a clock in the hall, which struck +nine as she passed it. It had a peculiar tone, and she never could +forget it. It had been striking as she passed it on the gloomy morning +last summer, when she had hurried to that fearful death-bed. + +It gave her a pang to hear it now. It seemed sharply to accuse her of +something. It recalled to her all her prejudices, all her resolutions. +It brought to her mind his manner when she had told him of his wife's +death, his absence of feeling in all the days that followed. It revived +his banishing the mother's memory from the children's minds; his ready +purpose to send away her favorite Gabrielle. And then she thought of +what she had just been saying--of what he had just said, and in what an +earnest way! Her face burned at the recollection. + +"Am I never to have any peace in this tiresome matter," she said to +herself as she shut herself into her room. "I will not think of it any +more, while I am obliged to remain in this house. I will honestly do all +I can to make things comfortable; he has done enough to make that +proper. Afterwards I will keep my promise by being kind to the children, +and by really serving them when it is in my power. It does not involve +me in any intimacy with him. You can stand a person's friend, and not +see him once a year. I will never do anything to injure or annoy him. +That is being an honest friend, as we are bidden to be, even to our +enemies. I have put myself and my pride away. I will do all I can to +forward the comfort and pleasure of every one in the house, and there is +the end of it." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A MISOGYNIST. + + +Acting upon this wise resolution, Missy came down the next morning a +little late, to breakfast. She was not going to escape any one. She had +on a fresh cambric morning-dress, and some roses in her belt. The +breakfast-table looked quite populous when she entered, for Mr. Andrews +was at the foot of the table, and the two children on one side, and Miss +Varian on the other, in the seat that had been placed for Missy. Miss +Varian's coming had been rather a surprise to everyone, for she had been +nursing her neuralgia so assiduously, no one imagined it would go away +so soon. Mr. Andrews got up when Miss Rothermel came in, and Jay shouted +a welcome from out of his hominy plate. + +Aunt Harriet said, "Well, Missy, I suppose you didn't expect to see me." + +"You've got Missy's place," said Jay, without ceremony. + +"Oh, no matter," cried Missy, turning a little pale, for she foresaw +that her fate would be to sit at the head of the table and pour out the +tea. Nobody sat there ordinarily, and the waitress poured out the tea. +But the table was not very large, and Aunt Harriet had spread out +herself, and her strawberries, and her glass of water, and her cup of +coffee, and her little bouquet of flowers, over so much of the side on +which she sat, that it would have caused quite a disturbance to have +made a place for Missy there. + +"Where will you sit, Miss Rothermel?" asked the waitress, with her hand +on the chair, looking perplexed, and glancing from the encumbered +neighborhood of Miss Varian, to the freer region behind the urn and +tea-cups. + +"Oh, anywhere, it makes no difference," said Missy, determined not to +fail the first time she was put to the test. "Here, if it is more +convenient." + +The servant placed the chair at the head of the table, which Missy +promptly took. Mr. Andrews, who had been standing with rather an anxious +face, as if he saw his guest's struggle, sat down with a relieved +expression. + +"You are just in time to reconstruct my coffee," said Miss Varian. +"Among her other good qualities, Mr. Andrews, your waitress does not +number making good coffee. Mine is tepid, and the cream was put in last, +I am sure. You must let Missy make you a cup; I am afraid you have +forgotten what good coffee is, if you have been drinking this all +winter." + +Missy bit her lip, and then shrugged her shoulder, and gave Mr. Andrews +a comical glance, as the only way of getting over her aunt's rudeness. +She also gave the servant a smile, and a little shake of the head, as +she handed the hot cup of coffee to her. The woman was very red and +angry, but this mollified her. Miss Varian had the most artless way of +insulting servants. Nothing but the general understanding, that it was +her way, and the certainty that she would give them a good deal of money +at Christmas, kept the servants at home respectful to her. + +"Yes, Missy does understand putting a cup of coffee together, even when +it's only tolerable to begin with," she said, tasting it with +satisfaction. "I think, Missy, if you showed the cook your way of making +it, to-morrow morning, Mr. Andrews would bless you every day of his +life." + +"Why, my dear aunt, the coffee is excellent," cried Missy, "I don't know +what you are thinking of. Next you'll be criticising these muffins, +which are perfect. Shall I give you one?" Soon after this, the servant +left the room, ostensibly to get some hot muffins, but really to pour +out her wrath to the cook. While she was gone, Missy perceived that Mr. +Andrews had neither tea nor coffee, and was eating very little +breakfast. "Are you not going to have coffee?" she said. + +"If you will give me some, I think I should like to judge whether Miss +Varian is right." So Missy made him a cup of coffee, very hot and nice, +and as there was no waitress in the room, got up and carried it to him +herself, before he knew what she was doing. + +"I beg you'll say it's good," she said. "Now, Jay," as she passed him, +"you surely _have_ had hominy enough. Don't you want some strawberries." +So she got him a plate from the side-board, and gave him some +strawberries, and a kiss, and put the muffins within Gabby's reach +before she sat down. Mr. Andrews' anxiety quite melted away, and he +began to enjoy his breakfast. + +"While you are up, Missy," said Miss Varian, just after she sat down, +"give me a glass of water." + +Missy laughed, and so did Jay and even Gabrielle, who looked alarmed as +soon as she had done it. Could a person be sent to boarding-school for +laughing in the wrong place, she wondered. Missy gave her aunt the glass +of water, and arranged things so that she could find them near her +plate. And so, the breakfast that had begun so threateningly, ended +quite peacefully. The morning was warm, but lovely. + +"I think, if you will take me to the piazza, I will sit there awhile, +Missy, but you will have to get me my shawl and hat, or go off on a +cruise to find Goneril, who is never where she ought to be." + +"Oh, we'll indulge Goneril with a little breakfast to put her in a good +humor for the day, and I'll find the shawl and hat," said Missy, taking +her aunt's hand to lead her from the room. + +Jay came to make her give him her other hand, and Gabby, allured by the +sight of a new bauble on Miss Varian's watch-chain, followed them +closely. Miss Varian was established on the front piazza, sheltered from +the sun and wind (and conspicuous to the passers-by), Gabby was nailed +to her side in fascinated contemplation of the trinket, which, it was +quite probable, the capricious lady would end by giving her, and Missy +was free to go to her mother for a little while. In half an hour she +came down ready to go to her work in the dismantled house. She went into +the parlor to find her parasol, and there was Mr. Andrews with letters +and papers before him, trying painfully to write with his stiff left +hand. "Oh, you must let me do that for you," cried Missy, pulling off +her gloves. "If they are business letters, that is," with a little +hesitation, for she caught sight of a woman's handwriting, among the +letters before him. + +"The business ones are the pressing ones. It would be a great kindness, +if you could. But you are needed at the house, perhaps." + +"I can write for half an hour or so. I have sent the women over, with +their work laid out for them for all the morning. I am quite used to +this. I write Aunt Harriet's letters every evening, till I go almost to +sleep." + +"I shall not let you go to sleep," said Mr. Andrews, "over mine." So +Missy wrote, and Mr. Andrews dictated, for half an hour at least. "That +is all that is needed now; I am very much obliged to you." + +"There are a good many more before you yet," she said, glancing at the +heap. + +"They will do as well another time. Perhaps, if anything comes to-day +that has to be attended to, you will be kind enough to write me a few +lines to-night." + +"Yes, of course; and if you want anything for the afternoon mail, don't +fail to send over for me." Then she went away, feeling very virtuous. + +In the afternoon, as she came down the steps to go back to see if her +mother wanted her, she saw Mr. Andrews just entering at the gate. It was +the first time that he had been out, and he showed his four days' +confinement to the house. As she met him, he said, with a little +hesitation, "I have come to see if you won't go out for a little drive +with us this afternoon. It is too fine a day to be shut up in the +house." + +Her heart sank. A drive _en famille_ with the Andrews', in the teeth of +all that had happened in the last few days! How could she brave it? Her +color changed a little and perhaps he saw it. + +"Don't go if you don't fancy it," he said. + +"Oh, it's just the afternoon for a drive. But I was going back to sit +with mamma, who has been alone all day." + +"I sent up to Mrs. Varian's room to see if there were any chance that +she would go with us, and Goneril came creeping out on tiptoe to say she +had just fallen asleep, and must not be disturbed." + +The last hope was extinguished; she made just one more cowardly attempt. +"But you," she said, "are you well enough? Isn't it rather against the +doctor's orders?" + +"No, he gave me permission himself this morning, finding me very much +improved." + +Then Missy said to herself, "I should think the man could see--" And +aloud she said, "Oh, there is nothing in the way. I'll go to the house +for my gloves and vail." + +When she came back the open wagon stood before the gate of the cottage. +Jay was already in it, brandishing the whip and shouting, much to +Michael's displeasure, who stood by the horses' heads. Mr. Andrews was +coming from the house. Gabby stood behind a post of the piazza, showing +a face lead-color with sullenness and disappointment. She had no hat on, +and was evidently not to be of the party. + +"Isn't Gabby going?" said Missy to Jay. + +"No," cried Jay, in selfish satisfaction, "Papa says there isn't room." + +"Poor Gabby! why, that won't do," she said, going to meet Mr. Andrews in +the path. "Won't you take Gabrielle?" she said. "There is plenty of room +for the two children with me on the back seat." + +Miss Rothermel enjoyed being magnanimous so much, Mr. Andrews hadn't the +heart to refuse her. + +"Which way are we going?" he asked, as Michael drove slowly. Jay +clamored for a drive, which took them through the village. Miss +Rothermel, of course, would give no vote. Gabrielle, when questioned, +agreed with Jay. Mr. Andrews admitted it was a pretty drive. "The +greatest good of the greatest number," thought Missy, while Michael +drove that way. + +They took the road through the village, where the men sat thick on the +store steps, and where the young village maidens were taking their +afternoon saunter. They met the Sombreros, they met the Oldhams and the +Olors--whom did they not meet, enjoying or enduring their afternoon +drive? Mr. Andrews had his arm in an unnecessarily conspicuous sling. It +was malicious of Goneril to put on that glaring great white silk +handkerchief. He was labeled hero, and people could not help looking. +Missy did not blame them, but it was horrid all the same. However, when +they were out of the village, and there were comparatively few people to +meet, the influence of the charming day and the absence of charred +remains and disordered rooms began to brighten her, and she almost liked +it. They drove along a road by the bay. The tide was high, and was +breaking with a contented little purring sound against the pebbles; +little boats bent idly with the incoming tide and pulled lazily at +their anchors. The bay was as blue as the sky; some white sails drifted +on it, for scenic effect, no doubt, for what else? for there was no +wind, but only a fresh cool air that came in puffs and ripples across +the water. Beside them, on the other side of the road, were green and +flowering banks, where Jay saw wild roses and anemones and little +nameless and beloved wild flowers. There was privet budding and hawthorn +fading, and barberry and catbrier and wild grape, in fresh June +coloring. Little dust came here in this narrow road, and with this +constant dampness from the bay. Nobody pulled down the vines, and they +hung in undisturbed festoons from the cedars and the stones. + +"I like this," said Jay, with a sort of sigh, after a long moment of +silence. + +"So do I," said Missy, giving him a kiss. + +The sun was behind the cedar and barberry and catbrier banks. They went +as far down the Neck as there was a road to go, and then turned back, +"the gait they cam' again." The children were exceptionally good, and no +one talked much. It was not the sort of hour when one talks much, good +or bad, or thinks much, either. Enough bliss it was to be alive, + + "But to be young was very heaven." + +Jay liked it, and Missy liked it too, though she was twenty-eight. And +Mr. Andrews, possibly, though he did not say anything about it. + +When they came up the steep little hill by the old mill, Jay felt the +spell of the water and the wildflowers broken, and began to clamor to +be taken over on the front seat between papa and Michael. He was cold, +he said, and he wanted to see the horses, and he didn't want to stay +where he was, in point of fact. It was rather a serious thing to +contradict Jay, and to carry him howling through the village, like a +band to call attention to the arrival of a circus. It was well to afford +entertainment to one's neighbors, but Missy did not think it necessary +to court occasions of sacrifice, so, with her pleasure much diminished, +they stopped, while Mr. Andrews managed to put out his one stiff hand, +and then she proceeded to push the hopeful boy over the back of the +seat, and establish him between his father and the coachman. + +"I must say, Jay, you are a spoiled child," she exclaimed. + +"That's so!" cried Jay, complacently, making a lunge towards the whip. + +"If you say 'that's so' again, I shall be angry with you," said Missy. +"Mr. Andrews, _won't_ you try to stop the children from talking this +vulgar slang. Jolly, coquettish, bizarre slang I don't mind, once in a +very great while, from children, but this sort of kitchen and village +boy vulgarity they never will get over, if they keep it up much longer." + +"I have done my best," said Mr. Andrews. + +"Well, I hope you'll excuse me for saying I don't think you have covered +yourself with glory." + +"Jay, we're a bad lot; we must reform at once," said the father, putting +his stiff arm around his boy, and giving him a hug. "Miss Rothermel will +give us up if we don't." + +"That's so!" cried Jay, boisterously, kicking the shawl off his legs, +and nearly tumbling off the seat in his enthusiasm. + +"I _have_ given you up," said Missy. "Don't put yourselves to the +trouble of reforming on my account." + +Nothing seemed to disturb the tranquillity of Mr. Andrews this evening. +He looked around and saw Missy's face darken as they found themselves +meeting carriages arriving from the cars, but it did not seem to depress +him; on the contrary, he seemed quietly amused. + +"The cars are three-quarters of an hour late!" exclaimed Missy, +unguardedly; "I thought we should have escaped them." + +"There is no dust to-night," said Mr. Andrews; "so they don't do us any +harm." + +"No, of course not," murmured Missy, bowing stiffly to Mrs. Eve and her +placid-looking son, who swept past them as if they were fugitives from +justice. + + "There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea!" + +It was amazing why every one who came from the cars by the late train +drove as if pursued by fate. + +When they reached home, there was another trial awaiting Missy. A +long-legged, good-looking man was sitting on the piazza, with his feet +higher than his head, and a meerschaum in his mouth. He came forward +briskly to meet the arrival and welcome his host; but he was aghast to +find a well-dressed young lady getting out of the carriage, and could +scarcely command words to explain that he had only that day heard of his +friend's accident, and had hurried up, by the just-arrived train, to +learn its extent. He was evidently one of Mr. Andrews' bachelor +friends--a woman-hater, like himself; and his thorough chagrin at seeing +Miss Rothermel, after an introduction, go into the house, would have +been amusing to any one less intimately connected with the surprise. +Just as Missy--followed closely by the children, and, at a little +distance, by the two gentlemen--was entering the house, a second female +cavalcade, headed by Miss Varian, attended by two maids bearing +bathing-clothes and towels, came from the direction of the water, and +met them upon the piazza. + +"Is that you, Missy?" said her aunt; "I have been trying my first bath +of the season; and I assure you it was cold." As if this were not enough +to try the nerves of the poor misogynist, Mrs. Varian at this moment +descended the stairs, accompanied by Anne with her shawl and book. + +"I thought I would give you a surprise, Missy," she said, with her sweet +smile, "and be down-stairs to meet you." + +Missy kissed her, and tried to look as if it were an agreeable surprise. +The cup of the guest's amazement was now apparently full. Here were six +strange women gathered on his friend's threshold to meet him, all +evidently at home. Had Mr. Andrews' accident affected his reason, and +had he begun a collection of these specimens, that had lately been his +abhorrence? What had occurred, to turn this peaceful abode of meerschaum +and Bourbon into a clear-starched and be-ribboned country house, where +shooting-coats and colored shirts were out of place? What should he do +about his boots? Was there a train to town to-night? or ought he to +stay, and look after poor Andrews? Wasn't it his duty to telegraph to +some one in town at once for medical advice? He had always heard that +people turned against their friends when the brain was involved; and, +most likely, this was a case in point, and Andrews had turned toward his +enemies, as well. + +All these thoughts rushed through his mind (and it wasn't a mind that +could bear rushes through it, without showing its disturbance), while +Mr. Andrews, with unusual urbanity, was bowing to Mrs. Varian, and +making her welcome. It was the first time she had been down-stairs since +she had been in the house, and it seemed to give him a great deal of +pleasure. She always called out in him, as in every man who met her, the +highest degree of chivalry that was in him. + +But the guest did not look at her; he only looked at his friend, +transformed into a ladies' man, a Chesterfield--everything that he +wasn't before. He staggered in his gait as he looked on, and took hold +of the door-post for support. Missy was glad Mr. Andrews did not observe +his agitation; but none of it escaped her, and she longed to give a +chance for explanation. + +"What can he think of us?" she reflected miserably. But no moment for +explanation arrived. The dinner-bell rang, with sharp promptness, as +they stood in the doorway. It was Melinda's night out, and no grass was +allowed to grow under the family's feet when that night came round. The +children were hungry too, and rushed ahead into the dining-room; so +nothing remained for Mr. Andrews, but to lay down his hat, give his arm +to Mrs. Varian and follow them in. Miss Varian exclaimed she wasn't +ready for dinner, just coming from the bath, but Missy dreaded her +disturbing them by coming in later, and begged her to come at once. She +was hungry, and consented. The guest, whose name seemed to be McKenzie, +had nothing to do but to follow. There were places enough arranged at +the table, but by a villainous, vicious contrivance of fate, every one +got a seat before Missy, who had to place her aunt at table, and she was +left staring at her enthronement at the head. "I don't think I'd better +sit here," she faltered rather low to Mr. McKenzie, who was stranded +beside her, "I think there may be something to carve, and I'm not much +at that." + +"Oh, by no means," he exclaimed, hurriedly, "I couldn't think of +it--that is--I am sure you belong there--I--I--you--that is--" + +"Oh, very well," said Missy, seeing that Mr. Andrews was looking rather +anxiously in their direction, and sank into her seat. + +"I want to sit next to Missy," cried Jay. "Even if she was cross to me, +I love her all the same, don't you, papa?" + +"All the same," said Mr. Andrews, smiling, and not looking disconcerted, +as he took the stopper out of the decanter by him. Missy was very angry +for a moment. Why had he not been disconcerted, as she most unhappily +was? But in a few moments she thought better of it, and was ashamed of +herself. There was poor mamma, who had made such an effort to come down; +she must have a cheerful hour at all events. And the miserable man next +her must be put at ease. The room was rather warm, and his heat +increased his agitation. His soup almost choked him, and Missy at one +time thought she should have to introduce him to his napkin, he seemed +too ill at ease to find it, though it was beside his plate. She put the +salt within his reach, but he didn't see it, and a water bottle, but he +was even beyond that. So she filled his glass and pushed it towards him. +He saw it at last, and drank it off at one gulp. + +"Mr. Andrews," said Missy, "can we have the door a little open? It is +rather warm at this end of the room." + +"Certainly, Miss Rothermel," exclaimed Mr. Andrews, getting up to open +it. "Why didn't you speak before?" + +"Heavens! Missy, what are you thinking about! The door open on my back. +I should be ill with neuralgia in half an hour. Mr. Andrews, I beg +you'll have a little mercy on us. Missy will kill off all the household +if you let her have her way about ventilation." + +"Oh! _n'importe_," cried Missy, as Mr. Andrews stood irresolute and +embarrassed. "Mr. McKenzie and I may die of asphyxia, but that would be +better than Aunt Harriet's getting neuralgia. Pray sit down, Mr. +Andrews, I really am used to it." + +"And I," said Miss Varian, going on uninterruptedly with her dinner, "am +quite familiar with these cases of asphyxia. Pray don't be disturbed, +Mr. Andrews. Miss Rothermel has them two or three times a week." + +It was so ludicrous, the uninterrupted calm of Miss Varian, who knew she +was going to have her own way, and the heat and agitation of the others; +that, as Mr. Andrews reluctantly took his seat, they all laughed. + +"It is quite true," said Mrs. Varian, wishing to reconcile him. "You +know, Missy, you are very imprudent. I believe your aunt has saved you +from a great many colds." + +"From an early grave, no doubt," said Missy, fanning herself, and giving +Mr. McKenzie another glass of water, while he was looking amazed from +Mrs. Varian to her sister-in-law. He was still quite incapable of +helping himself. + +"If he has apoplexy, it will be on my conscience," thought Missy. So, +after the discussion, she signalled the waitress to open a window near. +This was quietly done, and Miss Varian never knew it, not being as +sensitively organized as she thought she was. In the meanwhile, +something had come on the table which had to be carved, and it had been +put before Mr. Andrews. + +"This is a hard case," said the host, "but a man with 'never a hand' +can't carve. McKenzie, I believe I must put it upon you." + +This was exactly the last straw. The wretched man actually gasped. He +writhed, he tried to speak. + +"Can't Melinda?" said Missy, quite forgetting that it wasn't her place +to make suggestions. She felt sure Mr. Andrews had not seen the purple +shade of Mr. McKenzie's complexion. + +"Melinda has no gift," said Mr. Andrews. "I have tried her more than +once, but she can't carve." + +"Then let me try," cried Missy, springing up. "You'll see _I_ have a +gift." + +"Missy!" murmured her mother, deprecatingly, at this boldness. She +evidently had not seen the state the guest was in. + +"Mamma," cried Missy, "you know I've had to carve, and make tea, and do +a hundred things that didn't belong to me, ever since I was twelve years +old, and now you blame me for wanting to show off my accomplishments, +when I'm quite of a proper age to display them. I've been imposed on by +the family all my life, and now--the ingratitude of republics." + +As Missy finished her speech, she stood by Mr. Andrews, who had +reluctantly got up, and was glancing rather sternly at his friend. + +But the friend did not look at him, he was gazing bewildered at Missy. +The familiarity and complete at-home-ness of the whole party made him +doubt his senses. It was bad enough to see the women so at ease, though +he could believe anything of them. But Andrews evidently liked it, and +was pleased with all the liberties they took. It was impossible to +account for the state of things by any theory but that of brain +disorder. How he got through the rest of the dinner, Missy never quite +knew. He had no one to pour out glasses of water for him, and put the +wine within reach, for she quite washed her hands of him and sent +Gabrielle to take her place, while Mr. Andrews took Gabrielle's; and +Missy remained to carve. When they came out from the dinner-table, Mrs. +Varian went up stairs, and Missy went into the parlor to gather up some +of her aunt's things, of which there were always plenty to gather up. +The two gentlemen went on the piazza. She heard them talking as they sat +down beside the window, and prepared to smoke. + +"I must say, Andrews--" + +"Yes." + +"That--well. I was a little taken aback to find +things--so--a--so--well--so altered with you." + +He was beginning to breathe freer and to gain courage, now the +atmosphere was clear of women. + +"I don't quite understand," returned his friend. "You mean I'm looking +badly? You might have thought so a day or two ago, but I'm quite myself +to-day, thank heaven." + +It seemed to Mr. McKenzie that that was just who he wasn't, but he only +smiled derisively, and said, "No; I didn't mean that. I don't think you +looking much amiss. On the contrary, you seem uncommonly jolly." + +"Jolly!" + +"Well for you--that is. Look here, Andrews, if there's a train back to +town to-night, I guess I'll take it. I'm not a lady's man, you know. You +see I didn't have any idea of what you expected of your friends. I'm not +prepared." + +"Prepared, for what? We didn't have a dinner-party, did we? I hope you +don't mind meeting these neighbors of mine, who have been burned out of +their own house, and have taken shelter for a few nights in mine." + +"Neighbors," repeated the guest, who was a very good fellow, but not the +quickest in the world. + +"Why, yes--from the house next door, where the fire was. You knew there +had been a fire, I take it, since you had heard about my accident." + +"Yes." + +"Well, those ladies, as I said, were obliged to leave their own house in +flames, and I brought them in here." + +"Oh!" + +"They seem to be very much obliged to me for what they think I did for +them on that occasion, and we get on very well together." + +There was a pause, during which Mr. Andrews lighted his cigar, and Mr. +McKenzie appeared to be digesting the intelligence. + +"All the same, it seems a little queer," he said, after a good deal of +deliberation. + +"Queer? I must say I don't see it." + +"Well, considering how you feel about such things, I mean. I don't +suppose there's any real objection, if anybody likes it. There are +enough of 'em to make it proper, I've no doubt." + +"O yes, I don't think there's anything improper; you needn't be uneasy, +in the least, McKenzie." + +There were a good many puffs before the new-comer spoke. He was +evidently thinking deeply. + +"I'm not uneasy about it, but I suppose you know what people will be +saying. I know better, of course; but they'll say it, all the same." + +"Come, now, McKenzie, who cares for what they say? When you get a little +older you won't mind, you know." + +This was a club joke, for McKenzie wasn't very young. He had a way of +turning red, however, very youthfully, and did care what people said +about him, if it had anything to do with the sex opposed to his. + +"Ah, bah! that's all nonsense. You'll care, I guess, as much as anybody, +when you find what everybody, these ladies here into the bargain, expect +of you." + +"That's your opinion, is it? Well, come now, I'll set you at rest. These +ladies are remarkably sensible. The youngest of them, who is the only +one you'd be likely to want me to marry, has a great contempt for me; +thinks I'm a brute, and all that. She's fond of the children, and is +only civil to me because I happen to be their father and her host." + +"Ah, bah!" cried McKenzie, with infinite contempt. + +"It's the truth, McKenzie. And I'll tell you something more; she's a +spit-fire, and I've been so afraid of her I haven't been near the house +all winter." + +"You've made up for it this summer, then. No, Andrews, don't you tell me +any such stuff. I'm not so young as _that_, you know." + +Andrews laughed a little comfortably, as he smoked. "Well, there's no +use in talking, then. But it's a hard case. You'd better not let her +know your suspicions." + +"Let her know! Heaven forbid! No, I don't think there's any danger." + +"McKenzie, upon my word, I believe you're afraid of her too." + +"Not in just the way you are." + +"She's so little, she couldn't hurt you." + +"Not just the way she's hurt you." + +"You don't believe me yet. Well, now, let me tell you seriously. This +young lady is not the marrying kind; she is too sensible by half. I +wouldn't ask her for the world. And you know--well, you know I'm not +likely to try it again very soon. We won't talk any more about this; but +you may make your mind easy on the subject." + +Missy heard as far as this; it wasn't strictly honorable, but she did. +She had been sitting in a chair by the window, the easier to pick up a +lot of chessmen, which were scattered on the window sill and under it. +She had her lap full of the rattling things, when she became interested +in the conversation on the piazza. She could not move for some seconds, +being fascinated by the sound of her own name. Then, when she wanted to +go, she was terrified by the fear of being discovered; the chessmen made +such a rattling if she moved an inch; she felt it certain that Mr. +Andrews would start and come to the window and look in to see who was +eavesdropping, if he heard a sound. He would be sure to think it was +Gabrielle, till he found it was the virtuous Missy. How she trembled. +How angry she was, and how ashamed. But after this last pleasant +declaration she started up, chessmen or no chessmen, and darted out of +the room. Mr. Andrews did hear a noise, and did look in, and did think +it was Gabrielle; but he could not see who it was that fled; and though +Missy heard him sternly calling the little girl in the hall, she was not +virtuous enough to go out and tell him, over the balusters, who had +overheard his flattering remarks. This omission would probably have +rankled in her conscience if she had not seen Gabrielle, from the +window, come in at the front gate with Jay at the same moment. So the +father must be assured that the children were neither of them the +offenders. He could think what he pleased of the servants, that was no +matter of hers. + +She was too angry to go down-stairs again. She would have found it +difficult to say why she was so angry. She knew she was sensible, she +knew she was a spit-fire; she knew Mr. Andrews did not mean to ask her +to marry him. All this was no news; he had a right to say what he had +said, to an intimate friend. She could not expect to be considered +sacred. Why shouldn't Mr Andrews talk about her to his friend? He had +not been absolutely disrespectful; he had only mentioned facts--a little +jocosely to be sure; and a woman hates to be spoken jocosely of between +two men, even if admiringly. And Missy hated to be spoken of, at all. +She felt that she was sacred, though she knew she hadn't any right to +feel so. Poor thin-skinned Missy; it was so hard for her to keep from +being hurt; everything hurt her, she was so egotistical. + +In the morning it was a joyful sound to her to hear Michael driving to +the door for the early train; it was comforting to see the guest drive +away alone, and to know that further confidences were over between them +for the present. Friends! Imagine calling such a creature your friend, +thought Missy, turning away from the window. + +It would have been a blessing if he had stayed away. It is difficult +even for a humble-minded young woman to be amiable and easy with a +person who has called her a spit-fire; it was almost impossible for +Missy. Going down to breakfast was like facing a battery; she went to +the door two or three times before she had the resolution to open it, +and feel herself launched upon the day's embarrassments. Once at table, +Mr. Andrews was so commonplace and unconscious, she felt herself +strengthened by his weakness. It was a great advantage to know what he +did not know. She knew exactly what he thought of her; he did not know +that she knew this, nor did he know what she thought of him; Heaven +forbid! So she could hold these two advantages in her hand and use them. +The result was that she was a little shy and a little silent, and +weighed her words very carefully, for a day or two. But bah! when did +ever a woman made as Missy was, do anything unnatural to her for longer +than a day or two. It was quite in character for her to lay out new +parts to act, but equally in character for her to throw them aside +impatiently, and fall back into her standard _rôle_. She not +unfrequently declared to herself, I will be this, I will be that, but +she always ended by being Missy. So that it was not surprising that when +at last the house was ready for its occupants, and they moved bag and +baggage out of the Andrews' cottage, the young lady was as unaffectedly +herself as if Mr. McKenzie had not drawn that unhappy statement from his +friend. Not that she had forgotten it, exactly. But she had let it drop +into that crucible of injuries and misconceptions, an egotistical mind, +and it was melted up into something that hurt no longer; in fact, even +gave a little pleasure. She had been so natural and so pleasant, that +the house seemed dreary to all the family but Gabby, when she was gone. +She also missed the excitement herself, and it seemed rather tame the +next morning to breakfast with Aunt Harriet alone. The tented field +unfits one for the pastoral life; she found herself bored by the +security and stupidity of the day on which she was entering. But that +did not last long. She was in an hour or so, too busy to be bored. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +ALPHONSINE. + + +For the second day, the only visitors from the cottage were Jay and +Eliza. Gabby only looked askance at the house, from over the arbor vitæ +hedge; it was a foregone conclusion they would not be troubled much by +her. Mr. Andrews had now begun his daily journeys to town. Though still +obliged to wear his arm in a sling, he was quite able to go to business. +No doubt he had there some clerk who could write letters for him as well +as Missy, though it is just possible he found it more amusing to have +her do it. + +June was now in full reign. If Yellowcoats were not perfect to the +senses now, it never would be. The days were so long, the nights so soft +and moonlit, the air, night and day, so full of fragrance. The ladies +sat late on the lawn, by the beach gate. Even Mrs. Varian had ventured +to come down, leaning on her daughter's arm, and sit, carefully wrapped, +and with a rug spread over the grass, to watch the beauty of the sunset. +The second evening after their exodus from his roof, Mr. Andrews found +them so sitting, as he strolled down to the beach after dinner. The +dinner had been good, the wine had been good, his cigar was good; but +there was an indefinite something wanted, a flavor of companionship and +human interest. He looked longingly over the hedge; he wondered if Miss +Rothermel would remember how angry she had been, when Miss Varian told +him, it was one of his duties to his neighbor, to come and smoke an +after-dinner cigar on the lawn. He was quite interested in this +speculation--how good was Miss Rothermel's memory? Sometimes he thought +it very strong, sometimes he wondered at its non-existence. As he never +forgot anything himself, and generally did what he meant to do, Missy +was naturally a puzzle to him. She evidently had forgotten about the +observation of Miss Varian, for she looked up with a very pleasant +smile, when the grating of the beach gate on its hinges, caused her to +turn her head. She pulled forward upon the rug a chair which had been +standing beside her with books and a shawl upon it. These she put on the +bench at her feet, and Mr. Andrews took the chair. + +"You are sitting with your back to the sunset," she said, after the +subsiding of the froth of welcoming talk among the little party. + +"Well, so are you," he said. + +"But I have a reason, and you haven't." + +"No reason, except that you put my chair just where it is, and I didn't +dare to move it." + +Missy frowned; it reminded her that she had heard it stated by this +gentleman, that he was afraid of her. + +"A plague upon it, what have I said now," he thought. + +"I am watching that boat," went on Miss Rothermel, letting drop his +remark about the chair, as if it had not been worth answering. "Do you +see how she is shilly-shallying there in the mouth of the harbor? There +is a good breeze to bring her in, and she will lose it, if she doesn't +look out. A little while ago she ran in--crept along the Neck a way, +then stood out again, and now, nobody can guess what she means to do, +except that she evidently doesn't want to go away. I have been watching +her since five o'clock." + +"Whose boat is it?" asked Mr. Andrews. "Does she belong about here?" + +"No, I am sure not; I think I know all the boats that belong in the +harbor, and she has an odd, unfamiliar look." + +"Let's have a look at her through my glass," said Mr. Andrews; and he +got up and went back to his boat-house, returning with a telescope. +"This will show us the whites of our enemy's eyes," he said, adjusting +it on its stand, by the beach gate. Missy got up eagerly, and went up to +it. It was some moments before she got it fitted to her eye, and then a +moment more before she found her craft. + +"Ah! here she is," she cried. "It's a capital glass. It's almost like +boarding her; it really is uncanny. There is a woman on board, and two +men; and see--they have a glass! And--well, I could affirm they are +looking at us. See, see, Mr. Andrews! Oh, what a funny effect! It is as +if we were staring at each other across a parquet." + +"Well," said Mr. Andrews, taking her place at the glass, "it is as if +the opposite box didn't like being stared at, and were pulling down +their curtains, and putting their fans before their faces. Upon my word, +they have gone about, and are getting out of reach of our glass, just as +fast as they can." + +All the party were now as much interested as Missy had been. Miss Varian +clamored to be told exactly what course the little vessel took; Goneril, +who happened to be behind her chair, had some unnecessary comment to +offer. Mrs. Varian even watched her breathlessly. + +"It is very odd," said Missy; "from the moment we put up the glass, they +made off. Look! they are half way across to Cooper's Bluff. In five +minutes they will be out of sight." + +It was quite true. In less than five minutes the little sail had shot +out of range of the glasses and eyes upon the Varian lawn, and all that +could follow it was very vague conjecture. It occupied the thoughts of +the little party till the sunset took its place, and then, the +apprehension of dew and dampness for Mrs. Varian, and then the moving up +to the house. Mr. Andrews carried some shawls and a book or two, and +stopped at the door of the summer parlor, as the others went in. He +consented, not reluctantly by any means, to go in with them. + +"For I assure you," he said, as he entered, "I find it quite dismal at +home since you all went away." + +Miss Varian seemed to take this as a personal tribute, and made her +thanks. "I had supposed," she added, "that Jay was the only one who felt +it very much; but I'm glad to know you shared his amiable sentiments." + +"By the way, where is he to-night?" asked Missy, putting a shade on the +lamp. + +"The children were bribed to go to bed very early to-night. Eliza asked +permission to go home this evening, and stay till morning; and so, I +suppose, they were persuaded to be sleepy early to suit her." + +Late that evening, as Missy looked out, before shutting her window for +the night, she thought again of the little vessel that had excited her +curiosity. She rather wondered that she had bestowed so much +speculation upon it; but again, when she awoke in the night, she found +herself thinking of it, and wondering how there happened to be a woman +in the party. Oystermen and fishermen do not burden themselves with +women when they go out into the Sound; and this little vessel had not +the look of a pleasure boat. She had rather a restless night, waking +again and again; she heard all sorts of sounds. Once the dog at the barn +began to bark, but stopped shortly after one sharp snarl. At another +time, she was so sure she heard a noise upon the beach, that she got up +and opened the window and looked out. The night was dark--no moon, and +but faint light of stars. A light fog had gathered over the water. She +listened long; at one moment she was certain she heard the voice of a +child, crying; but it was only once, and for the space of a moment. And +then all was silent. The wind among the trees, and the washing of the +tide upon the shore she still could hear, but could hear nothing else. +She went back to bed, feeling ashamed of herself. It was like Aunt +Harriet, who heard robbers and assassins all night long, and called up +Goneril to listen, whenever a bough swayed against a neighboring bough, +or a nut dropped from a tree. + +"At any rate, I won't tell of it at breakfast," thought the young lady, +determinately, putting her face down on her pillow. By and by she +started up, not having been able to soothe herself, and get asleep. That +was not imagination, whatever the child's cry and the dog's bark had +been. There was a sound of oars, growing gradually fainter as she +listened. Well, why shouldn't there be? Men often had to go off to +their sloops, to be ready for an early start when the wind served; maybe +it was almost daybreak. But no, as she reasoned, the clock struck two. +On such a dark night, it _was_ unusual, at such an hour as this, for any +one to be rowing out from shore. If there had been a man in the house, +she would have risked ridicule, and roused him to go out and see that +all was right. But the men slept at the stable--there was absurdity, and +a little impropriety, in her going out alone at such an hour to call the +men. It would rouse Mrs. Varian, no doubt, and give her a sleepless +night. And as for Miss Varian, it would furnish her a weapon which would +never wear out, if, as was probable, nothing should be found out of +order about the place, or on the beach. No one likes to be laughed at; +no one less than Miss Rothermel. She shut the window again, and +resolutely lay down to sleep. But sleep refused to come. It is +impossible to say what she feared; but she seemed to have entered into a +cloud of apprehension, vague as it was bewildering. It was useless to +reason with herself, she was simply frightened, and she should never +dare to scorn Aunt Harriet again. Was this the way the poor woman felt +every night after the household were all at rest? Well, it was very +unpleasant, and she wasn't to be blamed for waking Goneril; if Missy +hadn't been ashamed, she'd have waked somebody. + +It was not till dawn fairly came that she was able to go to sleep. From +this sleep she was confusedly wakened by a hurried knock at her door. +The sun was streaming into the room. She felt as if she hadn't been +asleep at all, and yet the misgivings of the night seemed endlessly far +off in time. + +"Well, what is it?" she answered, sitting up and pushing back her +pillow, and feeling rather cross, it must be said. + +"They've sent over from the other house to know if Jay is here," said +the waitress, out of breath, showing she had run up-stairs very fast. + +"_Here!_" cried Missy, springing to the door and opening it. "How should +he be here? Do you mean to say they cannot find him?" + +"Oh," gasped Ann, putting both hands on her heart, "Eliza's in a +dreadful way. She's just got in from spending the night at home, and +went up to the nursery to dress the children, and opened the door +softly, and there was Jay's crib empty, but Gabby sound asleep." + +"He'd gone into his father's room, no doubt," said Missy, pale and +trembling. + +"No," cried the woman, "she ran right off to Mr. Andrews' door, and he +called out the child wasn't there, and in a terrible fright, she came +over here. When I told her no, I knew he wasn't, she flew back." + +"Go there, quick, and tell me if they find him in the kitchen or +dining-room; maybe he missed Eliza and crept down-stairs and fell asleep +on the sofa in the parlor." + +This mission suited Ann exactly; she ran as her mistress bade her, but +failed to come back with news. Missy dressed in a moment of time. She +saw it all; she knew what she had heard in the night; she knew what the +boat had meant hovering about the harbor, shooting out of sight. She +knew what was the explanation of the fire, for which no one had ever +been able satisfactorily to account. She began to realize what it was +to have an enemy. The thought of that child's cry, so suddenly smothered +last night, sent a pang through her. She scarcely knew how she got her +clothes on; her hands shook as with an ague. When it came to opening the +front door to let herself out she found they were as weak as if she had +had a fever. Half-way across the lawn she met Ann, who shook her head +and wrung her hands, and turned back, and followed her. Ann liked to be +in the proscenium box when there was a tragedy on the boards; it would +be dull laying the breakfast table when all this excitement was going on +next door (though a trifle more useful). She ran after her mistress, who +did not stop till she reached the gate that led into the Andrews' yard. +There she found herself face to face with Mr. Andrews, who had come +hurriedly down the path with the confused air of one who had been waked +from sleep by a sudden and stunning blow. + +"What does it mean," he said to her, as she came into the gate. + +"You haven't found him?" she said, as they went together towards the +house. "Where are his clothes--what has been taken--what doors were +open?" + +"His clothes are left--only a blanket from the bed is missing--no doors +were open--a ladder was against the nursery window. I am bewildered. I +don't know what it means at all." + +"It means Alphonsine," cried Missy, leaning against the door for +support. "It means revenge and a reward. The boat we watched last +night--the sounds I heard in the night--ah, ah, don't let us waste a +moment. It was two o'clock when I heard the sound of oars--it is seven +now--and a good breeze blowing. Oh, my poor little Jay, where have they +got you by this time!" + +"You suspect that woman," said the father, "that I sent away last +autumn? But what motive--what provocation--what could have prompted such +an act? I confess I cannot follow you--" + +"Believe me, and don't waste a moment," cried Missy. "Rouse the village, +ring the bells, get out your boat, send for the Roncevalles, telegraph +to town to the police. The Roncevalles will take their yacht, she came +in yesterday--you know she's fast. Why do you look so doubtful? Mr. +Andrews, I love him as well as you do. I am sorry for you, but I shall +hate you if you are not quick. Every moment that you doubt me is a +moment lost. Jay is in the hands of wicked people. You will never see +him again, if you are not prompt. Those creatures have stolen him--they +will board some French ship outward bound; don't look for motive--they +know you have money--they want revenge for being sent away. Oh, my +little boy! What have I brought upon you!" + +And with a burst of tears, Missy hid her face. The poor man groaned and +turned away. He walked to the door and back, as if trying to steady his +brain and to think. + +Missy recovered herself in a moment, and making a step forward, with a +passionate gesture of the hands, "Do something," she cried. "Do not, do +not waste a moment." + +Then, seeing he still had not admitted her theory, but was weighing it +with a troubled mind, she exclaimed, "Send in a hundred different +directions if you will, but send my way first. You have no other plan +follow mine till something better comes before you; it is better to be +doing something than nothing." + +"You are right," he said, with sudden resolution, starting towards the +library door--"Send a woman over to Captain Perkins; tell Michael to +saddle Jenny." + +From that moment there was no lack of speed in carrying on the search. +In half an hour, the bells were ringing in the village steeples; the +telegraph wire was talking hotly into the Police Headquarters of the +city; men and boys were swarming on the beach. The good yacht Ilia, +which had loafed in yesterday, with no intention but to spend a few +hours in harbor, was ready at a moment's warning. In a hasty conclave of +half a dozen gentlemen, it had been decided that Miss Rothermel's +suspicions were quite worth acting upon, _faute de mieux_. There were +others who had seen the mysterious little craft; and one man who had +come upon a foreign-looking group encamped upon a lonely point of the +Neck, the day before. There were two men and a woman in the party, and +they had evidently shunned observation. There were foot-marks upon the +sand, a little below the Andrews' boat-house, and a track that the keel +of a boat had made when pushed off, in the falling tide. It was more +than probable that the child had been stolen with a view to the largest +reward, and that the matter had been well arranged; and Miss Rothermel's +idea, that out on the Sound some homeward-bound French ship was expected +to come along, which would take them on board, and put them beyond reach +of pursuit for many weeks at least, found favor. There was, of course, a +possibility of their having failed to meet their ship, or of their not +having such a plan; and all the neighborhood of the Necks, and the +shores along the Sound must be instantly searched; it was even possible +that their plan had been to secrete him in the city. Jay had been a +well-known and rather favorite little person in the neighborhood--Mr. +Andrews was understood to be rich--the people were naturally +kind-hearted--the occurrence was quite beyond the ordinary; in short, it +was a day unparalleled in Yellowcoats for excited feeling. Men were +scouring the woods on horseback and on foot, and patrolling the shores +in boats; mothers were leaving, equally, wash-tubs and piano-fortes, to +hug closer their own children and mourn over the dangers of poor Jay, +and listen for the latest news. People drove aimlessly about from house +to house; all day long there were groups on the steamboat wharf, and +along the shore that led to Mr. Andrews' house; the telegraph office was +besieged. Little work was done. I almost think there was no dinner +cooked in more houses than the Andrews' and the Varians'. + +When the Ilia sailed gallantly out of the mouth of the harbor, the +foremost and fastest of all the pursuing craft, people cheered and wept, +and prayed for the continuance of the stiff breeze that had been blowing +since day-break. But the stiff breeze was a two-edged sword that cut +both ways; while it helped the pursuers, it helped the pursued. + +At first, it was decided Mr. Andrews should not go on the yacht, but +should be on the spot to direct, and order the search in different +quarters. A hastily sworn-in officer was taken on board, and several +gentlemen who had full authority to act for him. But when the last boat +load was about to push off, a certain fierce impatience seemed to seize +him. He had taken up Missy's theory, it seemed, at last, and felt that +he could not let them go without him. He signalled them to wait, and +hurried across the lawn to Missy, who stood with a rigid face, watching +the vessel's sails filling with the breeze. + +"I believe I'm going with them," he said, "there is nothing I can do +here. If anything comes up, you will decide. The fact is, I can't stand +it, all day in suspense." + +"Then don't keep the boat waiting," said Missy, with ungraciousness. The +truth was, she wanted to go so wildly herself, she hated him for being +able to do what she could not. What was the suspense more to him than to +her, she thought. She must count all these dreadful hours at home, while +he could feel he was nearer, every moment, to some certainty, good or +bad, which must be so many hours further off from her. In a moment more +he had sprung aboard the little boat, and they were off. + +All this while Gabrielle had been wandering about, silent and eager. At +first she had been questioned, with few results, as to her knowledge of +the events of the night. She had denied, generally, having been awake or +knowing anything till Eliza had waked her up in her fright at finding +Jay's crib empty. Then, in the hurry and panic, she had dropped out of +notice. Missy found her standing beside her on the lawn, watching the +boat go off. A sudden doubt came into Missy's mind as she saw the +child's keen, silent face. + +"What was Alphonsine's last name?" she said to her, without preface. + +"Gatineau," she answered, promptly. + +"When did you see her last?" she asked, looking at her narrowly. + +"I--I--don't know--" faltered the child, turning her eyes away. + +"Yes, you do know, Gabby," said Missy, firmly. "Tell me quickly. Did you +see her yesterday?" + +"I promised not to tell," returned the child, faintly. + +"Come into the house with me," said Missy, taking her by the hand with +no uncertain grasp. "I want to talk to you about all this." + +There were groups of people upon the lawn, and Missy felt afraid to +trust herself to talk before them, afraid, also, that the presence of +strangers would weaken her power over the child, who followed her +unwillingly into the house. When there, she shut the door upon them, and +sat down, drawing Gabrielle towards her. + +"We all feel very unhappy about your little brother," she said, looking +directly into the oblique eyes of Gabrielle; "this is a terrible day for +your father and for us all." + +"They won't hurt him," faltered the child, uneasily. + +"They say they won't, but they may. They tell lies, those French people. +Alphonsine told lots of lies when she was here. We can't believe her, +even if she says she won't hurt Jay." + +"I know she won't," said Gabrielle. + +"We'd give anything to get him back," said Missy. "Tell me all that +happened; you shall not be punished." + +"I promised not," said the child, looking down, and glancing towards +the clock uncomfortably. Missy caught the direction of her glance. + +"Why do you look at the clock?" she asked. + +Gabrielle hung her head lower than before, and looked convicted. + +"When did she tell you you might tell?" demanded Missy, with keen +sagacity. + +"Not till after ten o'clock," murmured the girl. + +Missy's heart sank; it was just forty-five minutes past eight o'clock. +They had felt sure of safety if the child could be kept silent for that +length of time, and had no doubt set an outside limit to her silence. + +"You are quite right," said Missy, "in not breaking your promise. I +suppose she thought you would be punished to make you tell, and she told +you you must hold out till ten?" + +Gabrielle nodded, perplexed at this reading of her mind. + +"Always keep your word, even to wicked people," said Missy, getting up +and smoothing out some papers that were lying open on the table. "You +know =I= think Alphonsine is a wicked woman, but you must keep your word +to her all the same, you know." + +Gabrielle was quite reassured by this, and drew a freer breath. + +"She told me I might tell after ten o'clock if I couldn't help it, and +she'd give me--the--the--" + +"I understand," said Missy, "the reward she offered. Well, now, I'll go +and see about some things up-stairs, and you can come with me and put my +ribbon box in order. And at ten o'clock I'll call you to come and tell +me all about it." + +Gabrielle brightened. She had rarely had access to Missy's sashes and +ribbons; she longed to get at them, even at this agitated moment. While +she was shut in Missy's room in this congenial occupation, Missy went +down stairs and rapidly turned forward an hour the hands of the hall and +parlor clocks; then waiting fifteen minutes in breathless suspense, +called up to Gabrielle to come to her. She was sure the child would not +have any correct estimate of time, and saw her glance without surprise +at the clock on the mantelpiece, which pointed at ten. + +"Now, I suppose you may tell me all about it," she said, trying to speak +very indifferently. "Tell me when you first saw Alphonsine." + +"Day before yesterday," she said. "After dinner, when papa had taken Jay +to drive, and left me all alone." + +"Oh, where were you?" + +"I was down on the beach below the cedars. I heard somebody call me +softly up on the bank, and I looked up and saw Alphonsine beckoning to +me. So I went up, and she took me behind the bushes and talked to me." + +There was a long pause. + +"Well," said Missy, trying to smooth out her voice as she smoothed out +the creases in a piece of work she had in her hand. "Well, what did she +say?" + +"I don't know," murmured Gabby, getting uneasy, and twisting around on +her heels, and getting out of range of her interlocutor's eyes. "I don't +know--all sorts of things." + +"Oh, I suppose she talked about me, and asked whether your papa came to +our house often, and all that." + +Gabby gave her a doubtful, sharp look. + +"Ye--es," she said. + +"And you told her about that, and then she said--?" + +Gabby, relieved to have this most delicate part of the conversation so +passed over, went on to state that Alphonsine had coaxed her to tell her +all about Eliza, the nurse, and when Eliza went out, and all about the +ways of the other servants in the house. And when she knew that Eliza +was going out to stay away till morning, the next night, she had told +Gabby she had a great secret to tell her, and made her promise to keep +it. She then told her, Jay was the cause of all her (Gabrielle's) +trouble, and that if he went away she wouldn't be snubbed so, and her +papa would give her plenty of money and buy jewelry for her, instead of +laying it all up, as he did now, for Jay. This part of her communication +Gabby made with much shame-facedness, and many oblique looks at her +companion. This latter was discreet, however, and helped the narrative +on with many little questions which took off the edge of its badness. +Gabby admitted that Alphonsine had given her a ring at this stage of the +interview, and that she had said she was going to give her something +else, if she did what she asked of her. Then she said she had been +getting married to a German sea-captain, who was rich, and wanted a +little boy. And she liked Jay, and was going to see if she couldn't get +Jay to come away and live with her. But, of course, Jay mustn't know +anything about it, for he was so little he would tell it all to his +papa, and that would spoil everything. She would come that next night, +after Eliza had gone out, and talk to Jay herself about it. But Gabby +must promise to get up softly as soon as Eliza went away, and unfasten +the window that opened on the shed, if it should be shut, and also +promise to lie quite still, and not speak till she was spoken to, if she +heard her come. Then, at that visit, she would bring her a locket and a +fine sash, which she had bought for her. And then, with many flattering +words, she sent her away, staying herself till some one came for her in +a boat, she said. + +All the next day, Gabrielle felt very important, having this secret, and +knowing what a visitor they were going to have in the night. She watched +Eliza go off that evening with much satisfaction. It grew dark, and very +soon Jay was fast asleep, and she got up and opened the window, and +there lay awake and waited for Alphonsine. Hours passed. She heard her +father come in and go to his room, and all the house shut up. Then she +thought Alphonsine wasn't coming, and had been laughing at her. So she +went to sleep at last and didn't know anything more till she heard Jay +make a cry, and then heard somebody hush him up and put something over +his mouth. She sat up in bed and saw, by a light put in one corner, and +shaded, that Alphonsine had Jay in her arms, bundled up in a blanket, +and that somebody was waiting half-way in at the window. This was a man, +Gabrielle knew when she saw Alphonsine hurry to the window and put Jay +in his arms, for he spoke German in a low, hoarse, man's voice. She was +frightened at seeing Jay taken away out into the darkness in a strange +man's arms, and she began to cry. Alphonsine uttered a bad word, and +told the man to go on, she must settle this stupid. She spoke in German, +but Gabrielle knew German. Then she came back to Gabrielle, and was very +coaxing, thrusting into her hand the package she had promised, but +telling her she had a pair of bracelets that matched the locket, that +she had meant to bring her, but would send her, if she held her tongue +until after ten in the morning. + +"No matter what they do to you," she said, "hold your tongue till then, +and you will never need be sorry. I shall know, for I have somebody here +that tells me all about what's going on. And if I hear you haven't told, +you'll have your bracelets by express on Thursday. You see I keep my +promise; look at the locket, and see if it isn't beautiful, and the +bracelets are worth ten of it." + +Then, with hurried words of caution, she left her--only looking back to +say, "Tell Madamoiselle next door if she finds out I have been here, +that I have not forgotten her. I would do a good deal for the love of +her." + +The window Gabrielle closed, because she was a little afraid, but the +lamp she put out in obedience to Alphonsine's injunction, after she had +looked at the locket, which was very big, and very gay with garnets. The +sash, too, was quite magnificent, showing that Alphonsine was playing +for high stakes. She had wrapped these two treasures up, and, together +with the ring, they were tightly concealed in the bosom of her dress. +She had not had time to admire them as they deserved, not having dared +to bring them out till she should be alone. Now, however, she yielded +very willingly to Missy's invitation to unbutton her dress, and brought +them to the light. Missy took them with trembling hands; they were the +price of blood, and she almost shuddered at the touch of the little +monster who pressed close to her to gaze with delight upon her +treasures. Not one word in the narrative had indicated remorse, or +sorrow for being parted from her little brother. The servants, and the +children in the street, seemed to have more feeling. After Missy had +looked at the showy French locket, she unwrapped the sash, thinking, as +she did so, how much reliance could be placed on the woman's statement +that she was married to a German sea-captain. The paper in which the +sash was wrapped first she had not noticed. The inner paper was a plain +white one. Some writing on the outer paper, which had been loosely wrapt +round the parcel, caught her eye. It was a part of a bill of lading of +the Hamburg barque Frances, bound to Valparaiso, and it bore date three +days back, and was signed by G.A. Reitzel, captain. Alphonsine had not +meant to leave this trace; in her hurry, perhaps, she had pulled this +paper out of her pocket with the package. Gabrielle said it had not been +wrapped around it, but had been with it when in the hurry and the +darkness she had thrust it into her hand. Missy sprang up in haste. This +was an important clew. How should she get the news to the Ilia? She left +the astonished Gabrielle and flew down stairs. One or two gentlemen were +on the beach below the house, talking, and scanning the harbor with +glasses. She ran down to them and communicated her news. It might make +all the difference, they said, and they estimated its importance as +highly as she did. It was of the greatest moment that they should be +warned to look for a German barque and not a French one; besides the +difference of the course she would take for Valparaiso if she got out to +sea before they overhauled her. Missy shivered. + +"Don't talk of that," she said. "The suspense would be unbearable. I +look for them back to-night." + +The elder of the gentlemen shook his head. "You must remember they had +nearly seven hours the start of us," he said, "and a good stiff breeze +since daybreak." + +"But the delays," said Missy, "and the uncertainty of coming up with the +vessel at the right moment. I count on their losing hours in that." + +"But then," returned the other, "the woman must have had good assurance +of their arrangements to have taken the embargo off the child at ten." + +"How shall we overtake them and get this news to them?" asked Missy, +finding speculation very tiresome which did not lead up to this. No one +could suggest an answer. The Ilia was the quickest vessel anywhere +about, and it would be an impossibility to overtake her. + +"Can't you telegraph to some station a few miles further down the Sound +than she can yet be, and tell them to send out a boat and watch for her, +and board her with the message?" said Missy. This was finally decided +on, and carried out with some variations. + +About two o'clock, a message was received that the Ilia had been +boarded, and was in possession of the intelligence. She had evidently +sighted no Hamburg bark, or she would have sent back word to that +effect, nor had she made quite as good time as they had hoped she would. +The wind was slackening, and varying from one quarter to another. It +would not hold out much longer, every one agreed in thinking. And so the +afternoon wore on. Some of the gentlemen went in to the Varians and got +a glass of wine and some lunch in the dining-room. Others drove away +and came back again. Always there were two or three on the lawn, and +some one was always at the glass by the beach gate. + +Missy shut herself into her own room. Even her mother's sympathy was no +help. She wanted to be let alone; the suspense was telling on her +nerves. She had hardly eaten at all, and there had scarcely been a +moment till now, that she had not been using her wits in the most active +way. Poor wits; they felt as if they were near a revolt. But what could +she do with them for the hours that remained, before a word, good or +bad, could come from the slim little yacht and her gallant crew? Hours, +she talked about. She well knew it might be days. One of the gentlemen +on the lawn had said, of course she would return if by midnight they had +met with no success; they were not provisioned for a cruise; and at best +would never think of going out to sea. This gentleman was elderly, and +had a son on board the Ilia. Missy scorned his opinion--now that Mr. +Andrews had gone, there would be no turning back. She did not say +anything, but she felt quite safe, provisions or no provisions. The day +did wear away--as all days do. + + "Be the day weary, or never so long, + At last it ringeth to evensong." + +Evensong, however, brought its own additions to the misery. If it were +hard to think of the betrayed child, alone with such cruel keepers, when +the sun shone, and the waves danced blue and white, it was little short +of maddening when the twilight thickened, and the long day died, and +the thick, starless night set in. Missy could not stay in the house +after dark; it seemed to her insupportable to be within four walls. She +paced the beach below the lawn, or sat under shelter of the boat-house, +and watched the bonfire which the men had made a few feet off, and which +sent a red light out a little way upon the black waters. + +A little way, alas, how little a way! Missy's eyes were always strained +eagerly out into the darkness beyond; her ears were always listening for +something more than the lonely sounds she heard. It seemed to her that +it would be intolerable to watch out these hours of darkness and +silence; she must penetrate them. She felt as if her solicitude and +wretchedness would be half gone if the night were lifted, and the day +come again. Ten o'clock struck--eleven--the outsiders, one by one, +dropped off. There were left two or three men who had been hired by some +of the gentlemen to watch the night out by the bonfire; Mr. Andrews' own +man, the Varians' man, and Missy and Goneril. Eliza, the nurse, worn out +and useless, had gone to bed. Of course, Ann was expended, and no one +but Goneril had nerve and strength left to be of any service. She had a +real affection for the little boy, with all her ungraciousness, and +felt, with Missy, that the house was suffocating, and sleep impossible. +She had got Miss Varian into her bed, and then told her she must fight +her burglars by herself, for Miss Rothermel needed her more than she. +This put Miss Varian in a rage, but Goneril did not stop to listen. She +went to Mrs. Varian's room, and soothed her by taking down warm wraps +for Missy, and promising to stay by her till she consented to come up +and go to bed. She also carried down coffee and biscuits to the men, and +made Missy drink some, and lie down a little while inside the boat-house +door. It was surprising how invaluable Goneril was in time of trouble, +and how intolerable in hours of ease. + +Midnight passed, and in the cold, dreary hours between that and dawn, +poor Missy's strength and courage ebbed low. She was chilled and ill; +her fancy had been drawing such dreadful pictures for her they were +having the same effect upon her as realities. She felt quite sure that +the child never would be restored to them; that even now, perhaps, his +life was in danger from the violent temper of the wicked woman in whose +hands he was; that if she found herself near being thwarted in her +object, she was quite capable of killing him. Her temper was violent, +even outstripping her cunning and malice. Poor little boy! how terrified +and lonely he would be, shut down, perhaps, in some dark hole in the +ship. "I want you, Missy! I want you, Missy!" he had cried, heartbroken, +in the darkness of his own nursery. What would be his terror in the +darkness of that foreign ship. She felt such a horror of her own +thoughts that she tried to sleep; failing that, she made Goneril talk to +her, till the talking was intolerable. + +The men around the fire smoked and dozed, or chatted in low tones; the +wind, which had come up again, made a wailing noise in the trees, the +rising tide washed monotonously over the pebbles; a bird now and then +twittered a sharp note of wonder at the untimely light of the fire upon +the beach. These were the only sounds; the night was unusually dark; a +damp mist shut out the stars, and there was no moon. + +It was just two o'clock; Missy had bent down for the fiftieth time to +look at her watch by the light of the bonfire; Goneril, silent and +stern, was sitting with her hands clasped around her knees, on the +boat-house floor, when a sudden sound broke the stillness, a gun from +the yacht as she rounded into the harbor. The two women sprang to their +feet, and Missy clutched Goneril's arm. + +"If those milk-sops have come back without him," said the latter between +her teeth, answering Missy's thought. Surely they would not have come +without him; the father was not a man to give up so; and yet it was +earlier than any one had supposed it possible they could return; and the +wind had been so variable, and the night so dark. Could it be that they +had come in, disheartened and hungry? feeling the barque was beyond +their reach upon the seas, and excusing themselves by sending after her +steam instead of sail? + +The men around the fire sprang up at the sound of the gun, and in an +instant were all alertness. One threw a fresh armfull of wood on the +fire "to make it more cheerful-like;" two others sprang into a small +boat and pushed out to meet the yacht. + +"It'll be a half hour before they can anchor and get off a boat and +land," said Goneril, impatiently. "It'll never occur to 'em that anybody +on shore may want to know the news they've got. As long as they know +themselves, they think it's all that's necessary." + +Missy felt too agitated to speak. The long excitement had taken all her +strength away, and a half hour more of suspense seemed impossible to +bear. Goneril also found it intolerable; she had not lost her strength +by the day's agitation, but she had no patience to stand still and wait +for them. + +"I'll run up and tell the cook to have some coffee ready for the +gentlemen, and some supper. Most likely they've come in for that. Men +don't work long upon an empty stomach. The boy wouldn't be much to them +if the provisions had given out." + +With this sneer she hurried away, and left Missy alone. She came back, +however, before the sound of oars drew very near the beach. She had +caught up a lantern from the hall table as she passed it, and lighted it +at the fire. It gave a good light, and shone up into her handsome face, +as she paced up and down restlessly upon the beach. + +"Well, they'll soon be here," she said, standing still and listening to +the regular stroke of the oars, and the sound of voices out in the +darkness gradually coming nearer. "They can't be much longer, if they +don't stop to play a game of euchre on the way, or toss up which shall +stand the supper. Much they care for anything but that. If they could +smell the coffee it would hurry them. Men are all alike." + +The voices came nearer; Missy's eager eyes saw the boat's prow push into +the circle of light that went out from the bonfire, but the mist made it +impossible to discern what and who were in her. She made a step forward, +and the water washed against her feet; she clasped her hands together +and gazed forward, scarcely seeing anything for her agitation. Goneril +stood just behind her, on the sand, holding up the lantern, which shone +through Missy's yellow hair. Missy saw some one spring ashore; she +heard the captain's hearty voice call out: + +"All right, Miss Rothermel; you put us on the right track; we've brought +the little fellow back, safe and sound, to you." + +Then some one else stepped out upon the sand; some one else, with +something in his arms, and, in a moment more, a little pair of arms, +warm and tight, hugged her neck, and a fretful voice cried: + +"Let me go to Missy--I want Missy--" and Mr. Andrews hoarsely said, +trying to take him back, seeing her stagger under his weight, + +"Let me carry you; you shall go to Missy in a moment, and you shan't be +taken away from her again." + +They were within a few steps of the boat-house; Missy, with the child +clinging obstinately to her, staggered into it, and then--well, it was +all a blank after that; for the first time in her life, and the last in +this history, she fainted dead away. + +Jay stopped his crying, Goneril dropped her lantern, Mr. Andrews started +forward and caught her in his arms. The other gentlemen, directed by +Goneril, had already gone towards the house; Goneril, in an instant, +seeing what happened, called to one of the men on the beach, to run for +water and some brandy, and kneeling down, received Missy in her arms, +and laid her gently down upon some shawls. Mr. Andrews caught up the +lantern, and anxiously scanned the very white face upon the shawls. It +looked dreadfully like a dead face; poor Jay was awestruck, and crept +close to his father's side. Goneril chafed her hands, loosened her +dress, fanned her, moved the shawls and laid her flatter on the floor. +But it was an obstinate faint; even Goneril looked up alarmed into Mr. +Andrews' alarmed face. + +"I wish we had the doctor, though he's an ass," she said. "Send your man +there for him, quick as he can go; but don't you go away yourself, I +might want you--I don't know what is going to happen." + +It was a moment's work to despatch the man, who was helping haul up the +boat, which half a man could have done. The brandy and the water soon +arrived, but failed to produce any apparent effect. "You take that hand, +rub it--don't be afraid--rub it hard," said Goneril, as Mr. Andrews, +kneeling on the other side, set down the lantern. "I don't like this +sort of thing. I've seen a dozen women faint in my life, but they came +to as quick as wink, if you dashed water on 'em. I've heard people do +die sometimes of their feelings--but I never believed it before. But +then, I needn't wonder--this has been an awful day, and she's looked, +poor thing, like dead for the last four hours or more. Heavens, there +ain't a bit of pulse in her. Just you put your ear down: _I_ can't hear +her heart beat--why _don't_ that idiot hurry; not that he'll do any good +by coming, but, my conscience, I don't want her to die on my hands. I've +had enough of this sort of business. I wouldn't go through such another +day. I've heard of people losing their heads when they were most +wanted--I--I don't know what to do--I believe I've lost mine now--" and +Goneril dropped the hand which she had been fiercely chafing, and +starting up, stood with her arms upon her hips, gazing down on Missy. + +Poor Goneril, the day had been a hard one, and she was made of the same +clay as other women, though a little stiffer baked. She had lost her +head, and her nerves were shaken, for once in her experience. Mr. +Andrews' day certainly had not been less hard, but he had a man's +strength to go upon, and not a woman's. + +"Let us see," he said, lifting Missy and laying her where the wind blew +fresh upon her from the door, then hurrying to another door pushed it +open violently with his knee--"Hold the lantern down," he said--"Now +give me the brandy," and he forced a drop or two into her mouth. The +change of position, or the stimulant, or the fresh wind in her face, +started her suspended powers into play--and a slight movement of the +lips and a flutter in the pulse on which Mr. Andrews' hand was laid, +showed him Goneril had been in a panic, and Missy was only paying the +penalty of being an excitable woman. I hope he didn't think it was a +nuisance, considering it was all about his boy. Goneril was quite +ashamed of herself for having lost the head on which she so prided +herself. She was almost sharp with the young lady, when, after more +rubbing and more brandy, she opened her eyes and looked about her. + +"I didn't know you was one of the fainting kind or I should have been +prepared for you," she said, raising her up and putting some pillows and +shawls behind her. The pillows and shawls she had twitched into place +with asperity, the tone in which she spoke was not dulcet. + +"You have given us a great fright," said Mr. Andrews, drawing a long +breath as he stood up; and, taking off his hat, passed his hand over his +forehead. + +"It doesn't take much to frighten a man," said Goneril tartly. "Please +to shut that door. Cold's as bad to die of as a fainting fit, and it's +like a pair of bellows blowing on her back." + +"What are you talking about, and where am I?" murmured poor Missy, a +sickened look passing over her face, as her eyes fell on Mr. Andrews. He +wasn't slow to understand it, and kneeling down beside her, said: + +"You have had too much excitement to-day, and getting Jay back made you +faint. Now, don't think any more about it, but let me assure you, he is +well and safe." + +For Master Jay, like a valiant little man, had slunk out of sight at the +occurrence of the fainting fit, and stood outside the door-post, around +which he gazed furtively back upon the group, prepared to depart +permanently, if anything tragic came about. He was thoroughly masculine, +was Jay; he never voluntarily stayed where it wasn't pleasant. + +When Missy heard Mr. Andrews' words, and knew that her keen suspense had +ended, she began to cry hysterically. Everybody knows that the physical +sensations of coming back after a faint are not joyful, no matter what +news you hear. It was all horror and suffering, and Missy wept as if her +heart were broken instead of being healed. Goneril chided her with very +little regard to distinction of class; but they had been +fellow-sufferers for so many hours, she seemed in a manner privileged. + +"I can't think what you're taking on so about," she said, spreading the +shawl out over Missy's feet, picking up the lantern, and tidying up the +boat-house as a natural vent to her feelings. "There might have been +some sense in it if they had come in without the child, as we thought +they would; or if he'd been your own child, or if it had been any fault +of yours, that he got carried off. There's nothing ever gained by +bothering about other people's troubles; folks have generally got enough +to do in getting along with their own. The Lord gives you grace to bear +what He sends you--at least He engages to; but there ain't any promises +to them that take on about what they've taken up of themselves. Don't +set your heart on other people's children unless you want it broken for +you. And don't go to managing other people's matters unless you want to +get into the hottest kind of water. You burn your fingers when you put +'em into other people's pies. Every man for himself and every woman for +herself, most emphatic. Keep your tears till the Lord sends you children +of your own to cry about; goodness knows you'll need 'em all if you ever +come to that." + +Goneril had had two children in her early disastrous marriage; one had +died, and one had lived to go to destruction in his father's steps, so +she always bore about with her a sore heart, and the passionate love of +children, which she could not repress, she always fought down fiercely +with both hands. Her sharp words did not soothe Missy much. She cried +and cried as if there were nothing left to live for, and the fact that +Mr. Andrews was there and was trying to make her hear him above +Goneril's tirade, did not help matters in the least. + +"If you'll take my advice," said Goneril to this latter person, dashing +some more brandy and water into a glass, and speaking to him over her +shoulder as she did it, "If you'll take my advice, you'll go away and +leave her to get over it by herself. She's just got to cry it out, and +the sight of you and the boy'll only make it worse. Take him home and +put him to bed, and let's have a little common sense." + +"Oh, go away, go away, everybody," cried poor Missy, smothering her face +down in the shawls. + +"Take this," said Goneril, sternly, holding the brandy and water to her +lips, which she had no choice but to take, and it was a mercy that she +didn't strangle amidst her sobs. But she didn't, and found voice to say, + +"I am better. I don't want anything but to be by myself," before she +began to sob again. + +Thus adjured, it was natural that poor Mr. Andrews should think it best +to go away. Nobody wanted him, evidently, and he had been ordered away +by two women, when one was always quite enough for him. So he took Jay +by the hand and went out into the dim path that led up to his own house. +It was, no doubt, time to put the child to bed! The clock in the hall +was just proclaiming three in its queer voice, as he went in, and +stumbled through the darkness up to the nursery, where he had to go +through another scene with the nurse, who woke up and was hysterical. + +But Jay soon battered the hysterics out of her. He had been fretful +before, but now he was fiendish, and it was as much as they could do to +get him into bed. I am afraid it passed through her mind that he'd +better have got to France, and it took all the paternal love of Mr. +Andrews to keep from inaugurating his return home by a good thrashing. +The tragic and comic and very unpleasant are mixed in such an intimate +way in some cups. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +ENTER MISS VARIAN. + + +The next day about noon Mr. Andrews, with Jay by the hand, walked up the +steps of the Varians' house. He had got a few hours of sleep after +daylight, and had just swallowed a cup of coffee and called it +breakfast, and now, looking haggard and weary, had, as was proper, come +over to see about Missy and her hysterics. + +She too had just come down-stairs, and was sitting in a great chair by +the window in the parlor, with footstool under her feet and an afghan +spread over her. The day was cool and brilliant; all the fogs and clouds +of the night had been blown away by a strong north wind; the sun was +coming in at the window, and Missy was trying to get warm in it, for she +felt like Harry Gill in the story-book, as if she should never get warm +again. She was pale, and lay with her head back in the chair, looking a +disgust with life and its emotions. From this attitude she was roused by +the unexpected entrance of Jay and his father, whose approach she had +not heard. She changed color and tried to stand up, and then sat down +again. + +"Don't get up," said Mr. Andrews, lifting Jay to kiss her. "There, Jay, +now you'd better go away. Find Goneril and play with the kittens a +little while, and then I'll take you home." + +He opened the door for Jay, who was very willing to go, not feeling +quite at home with Missy yet, since the fainting-fit. He looked askance +at her as he went out of the door, as at one who had come back from the +dead. + +"He wasn't worth all I went through for him yesterday," thought Missy. +And then she took it back, and thought, in an instant, he was worth a +great deal more--which was a way of hers. + +Mr. Andrews sat down on the other side of the window, and said, with a +weary laugh, as he leaned back in his chair, "I'm glad it's to-day, +instead of yesterday." + +"Ah!" said Missy, with a shiver. + +"I don't know how much you've heard of our adventures--" + +"I haven't heard anything. I have just come down-stairs, and last night +I wouldn't let them tell me. I only wish I could forget it all. I cannot +bear to think of it." + +"I don't wonder. It was bad enough for us, who were doing something all +the time, but for you, who couldn't do anything but wait, it must have +been--well, there's no use going over it. We've got him, Miss Rothermel, +and that's enough to think about. Only let me tell you this, if it +hadn't been for you, we should not have him now." + +"If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have lost him at all," said +Missy, bitterly. + +"I don't understand--you mean the woman's hostility to you? I really +think that had very little to do with it. She is such an evil creature, +she would have done the same, or worse, without that for an excuse. You +may, rather than reproach yourself for that, congratulate yourself upon +having been the means of sending her away, before the child was totally +corrupted. When I think what danger he--they--were in from her, and how +little I suspected it, I am more than ever convinced that I am not fit +to have the care of him. Believe me, you did me, as well as the +children, an inestimable favor, when you advised me to send those +creatures away; and to you I owe a year of comfort and peace, and Jay +owes, I don't know what." + +Missy flushed painfully, and her companion saw it, but he went on +ruthlessly, "You never will let me allude to this, Miss Rothermel; but I +want to say one thing about it, now we are on the subject, and then I +will promise not to trouble you again. You are so over-sensitive about +this matter you have made yourself uncomfortable, and--well--though it's +not of much importance--you've made me uncomfortable too. If you will +believe me when I say I shall always consider you did me the greatest +favor when you induced me to send those servants away, and if you will +bear in mind the benefit you did the children, you will surely be able +to be indifferent to the tattle of a set of people whose tongues are +always busy about their betters, in one way or another. If they were not +talking about this, they would be talking about something else; it was +only the accident of your hearing it that was unusual. I have no doubt +in our kitchens every day are said things that would enrage us, but +luckily we don't hear them. This has been such a barrier between us, +Miss Rothermel; won't you be good enough to make way with it to-day, and +promise not to think of it again? You have given me a new cause for +gratitude in what you did for Jay yesterday. Surely, after what we both +went through we can never be exactly like--like strangers--to each +other. I hope you'll let me come a little nearer to being a friend than +you've ever permitted me before, though if I recollect, you made a very +fair promise once about it." + +"Why haven't I kept it? I can't remember having--" + +"Having snubbed me badly since that night. No, I acknowledge that you +have kept your resolution pretty fairly. But then, you know, it was +impossible not to see it was an effort all the time. If you could forget +all this about the servants, and let us be the sort of friends we might +have been if Gabrielle had never meddled, you would lay me under another +obligation, and a more binding one than any of the others, great as they +have been." + +Mr. Andrews was talking very earnestly, and in a manner unusual to him. +One could not help seeing that nothing short of the events of yesterday +could have made it possible for him to speak so. His heart had been +jarred open, as it were, by the great shock, and had not yet closed up +again. It wouldn't take many hours more to do it; Missy realized that +perhaps he wouldn't speak so again in his life; the moment was precious +to her, because, whether she liked him or not, there is a pleasure in +looking into reserved people's hearts; one knows it cannot happen every +day. + +And that was the moment that Miss Varian chose for coming into the +parlor, with Goneril and Jay and the kittens. She had heard his voice, +and she naturally wished to hear all about the affair of the pursuit. +Goneril was nothing loth, and Jay was quite willing to go if the +kittens went, so here the party were. Missy involuntarily bit her lips. +Mr. Andrews' forehead contracted into a frown as he got up and spoke to +Miss Varian, who settled herself comfortably into a chair. + +"Now," she said taking her fan from Goneril, and getting her footstool +into the right place, "now let us hear all about it." + +Mr. Andrews, with a hopelessly shut-up look, said he didn't think there +was much to tell. + +"Not much to tell!" she echoed. "Why, there's enough to fill a novel. I +never came so near to a romance in my life. I positively wouldn't have +missed yesterday for a thousand dollars. It gives one such emotions to +know so much is going on beside one, Mr. Andrews." + +Mr. Andrews didn't deny her statement, nor a great many others that she +made, but he seemed to find it very difficult to satisfy her curiosity. +In fact, she got very little out without mining for it. She asked the +hour when they first sighted the barque, and she got it. Two o'clock. +Then the course they took, and the changes of the wind, and the +deviations that she made, and the reasons that they did not gain upon +her for an hour or more. All this might have been interesting to a +sea-faring mind, but not to Miss Varian's. She asked questions and got +answers, but she fretted and didn't seem to find herself much ahead. +Missy knew Mr. Andrews had come over to tell _her_ all about it--but not +Miss Varian. He really did not mean to be obstinate, but he couldn't +tell the story with the others present. Missy gathered a few bald facts, +to be filled out later from the narrative of others. She didn't feel a +consuming curiosity. Jay was here, the woman wasn't. That was enough +for the present. She felt a far greater interest in those few words Mr. +Andrews had been interrupted in saying. They went over and over in her +mind. She only half attended to Miss Varian's catechism. + +"Well," cried Goneril, who was hopelessly jolted out of her place by the +events of yesterday, "well, one would think you'd had a child stolen +every other day this summer, by the way you take it. Captain Symonds, +over on the Neck, made twice the fuss about his calf, last autumn. I +don't believe yet he talks about much else." + +Miss Varian gave her maid a sharp reprimand, and asked Mr. Andrews +another question in the same breath. + +"How did the French woman act when the warrant was served on her?" + +"Oh, well, just as any Frenchwoman would have acted under the +circumstances, I suppose. You know they're apt to make a scene whether +there's any excuse for it or not." + +"But did she cry, or scold, or threaten, or swear, or coax, or what?" + +"Why, a little of all, I think; a good deal of all, indeed, I might say. +She tired us out, I know." + +"But did she seem frightened? How did she take it? What was the first +thing she said when she saw the officer?" + +"Upon my word, I have forgotten what she said. I heard Jay's voice in +the cabin, and I was thinking more about him, I suppose." + +"But what excuse did she make for herself? How did she put it?" + +"Oh, a woman never has any trouble to find excuses. She seemed to have +plenty." + +"But what possessed you to be so soft-hearted as to let her go?" + +"What did I want of her? I was only too happy that she should go, the +further off the better." + +"I must say I think you were ridiculously weak." + +"That is just possible." + +"And she, and the wretch she called her husband, all are on their way to +South America?" + +"I hope so, I am sure." + +"What did the captain say? How could he answer for stopping to take up +the party in the night? Did he pretend to be ignorant of what they were +about?" + +"Yes, he assured us he was ignorant, and I should not wonder if he spoke +the truth--French truth, perhaps; but I don't believe he suspected more +than a little smuggling venture, or an un-actionable intrigue of some +kind. He knew the man somewhat, and made a bargain to lay outside the +harbor for a few hours, and pick them up if they came out before +daylight. The man told him it was his wife and child, who had been +detained in the country by the illness of the child, and that he would +pay him fifty dollars, besides the passage money, if he'd wait for them. +No doubt the captain suspected something, but, as I say, nothing so +serious as the job they'd undertaken." + +"The wretch! He ought to have had his ship brought back to port, and +have been kept there for a month, at least, and lost his cargo, and been +put to no end of loss and law. You were ridiculously weak, Mr. Andrews, +to let him go, and worse than weak to let the woman go." + +"Maybe so, Miss Varian, maybe so. It wouldn't be the first time, at any +rate." + +"To think of that horrid creature going off and doing what she chooses!" + +"I'd rather think of her in South than in North America. And as to doing +what she chooses--she'll do that, whichever continent she's on--for she +is a woman." + +"You should have shut her up in prison, and made that captain suffer all +that the law could put upon him. You wouldn't appear against them +because you are too lazy, Mr. Andrews, and that is the English of it. +And so other people's children may be stolen, and other vessels go +prowling around our shores, and this sort of thing be done with perfect +impunity, Mr. Andrews, with perfect impunity." + +"I am very sorry, Miss Varian, but I hope it won't be as bad as you +anticipate. There are not many women as wicked as Alphonsine, and I +don't think she will try it again." + +"Try it again! Why, she will try something worse. She will never rest. I +shan't sleep easy in my bed. I do not think we are safe from her +attempts, any one of us." + +Thereupon Goneril laughed, a most disrespectful laugh, though a +suppressed one, and her mistress, in a temper, ordered her out of the +parlor. She obeyed the order in the letter, but not in the spirit, +pausing to talk to Jay about the kittens, and then inviting him to the +piazza, where, the windows being open, she could hear the conversation +within as well as before. This episode broke the thread of Miss +Varian's catechism, and she forgot Alphonsine in her wrath against +Goneril. Meanwhile, a carriage drove up with visitors; Mr. Andrews +hurried to depart, Missy disappeared into the adjoining room, and Miss +Varian, being left to entertain them, soon forgot her maid's offenses. +Visitors were a balm for most wounds, with her. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +AT THE BEACH GATE. + + +A fortnight after this, Mr. Andrews was smoking his post-prandial cigar +with the Varians at the beach gate, and watching the sunset. It had been +a fortnight of not very varied experiences. Mr. Andrews had chiefly +learned from it how difficult it was to see much of his neighbors +without making it a formal business. It was in vain to ask Miss +Rothermel to drive; equally unfruitful to ask her to sail. So many +evenings of the week proved rainy, or foggy, or cold, that this was only +the third cigar he had smoked on their lawn since the evening when they +watched the boat which was lying in wait for poor Jay. It was impossible +to deny that the evenings were lonely, and that meerschaum companions +were scarce, and that Mr. Andrews, since his stirring adventure, had +rather hankered for some one to speak to. This evening he said, rather +awkwardly, + +"Mrs. Varian, I am expecting some visitors this week. I am going to ask +you to call on them, and--and show them some attention." + +Missy, who was making some pictures on a slate for Jay on the ground at +her feet, suddenly looked up with a face of amazement. + +"I hope it isn't Mr. McKenzie, for he'd rather be excused from our +attentions," she said with a laugh. + +"No," said Mr. Andrews, looking embarrassed, "it isn't any of my boorish +men, Miss Rothermel. It is--some ladies." + +"Oh!" said Missy, and she dropped her eyes on Jay's pictures, and did +not say another word. What she thought, it would be unwise to +conjecture. For she felt a keen, fine tingle of anger all through her, +and she knew, as she looked at Jay's yellow mane lying on her lap, that +he was going to be taken away from her more surely than by Alphonsine, +and that there were breakers ahead, and her short-lived peace was going +to founder. She went through it all in such a flash that she felt her +fate was settled when Mr. Andrews spoke again. + +"I have asked my cousin, a charming person, Mrs. Eustace, whom I am sure +you'll like, to come with her daughter and spend the remainder of the +summer with me. They are without a home of their own at present, and are +drifting, and it seems to suit them very well." + +"No doubt," said Miss Varian, with keen interest. "I'm sure they'll have +a nice time. Is the daughter pretty?" + +"I believe so, rather," returned Mr. Andrews, beginning to feel +uncomfortable. "It is two or three years since I have seen her. They +have been living abroad some time." + +"I am sure," said Mrs. Varian, with gentle sympathy, "it will be a very +pleasant thing for you. You may depend upon us to do all we can to make +the ladies satisfied with Yellowcoats. I am sure they can't help liking +it if they do not care for gayety." + +"I am certain that they don't. They seem to me the very persons to be +happy here. They are cultivated; I'm _sure_ you'll like them, Miss +Rothermel, and the daughter has quite a talent for drawing, and they are +cheerful and always ready to be amused, and are generally very popular." + +"Well, well," cried Miss Varian, "now that sounds pleasant. They are +just what we want here. Missy needs somebody to stir her up a little, +she is a trifle set and selfish, and I tell her she never will be +popular till she gets over that and goes into things with a little dash +of jollity. It doesn't do to be too dictatorial and exclusive and +superior; people leave you behind and forget that you're anything but a +feature of the landscape. It's always been your mistake, Missy. Now +we'll see if it's too late to mend, and whether this young lady and her +mother will not teach you something." + +"I am sure," said Mr. Andrews, uncomfortably, "Miss Rothermel doesn't +need to be taught--anything. I should think it was rather the other +way." + +"Thank you," said Mrs. Varian, with a smile, covering up Missy's +silence. "I hope it need not be a matter of instruction either side. I +can quite understand neither young lady would enjoy that." + +"I don't know anybody would enjoy it less than Missy," cried Miss +Varian, sharply, for she scorned the making of peace. "But what we need, +is not always the thing we enjoy." + +"When do you expect your guests?" said Mrs. Varian, anxious to create a +diversion. + +"The latter part of the week, I should think; I don't quite know what +day. The children will be so much the better for having them, I shall be +glad when they are here. I shall feel so much safer about Jay, when I am +in town. You can understand for the last two weeks I have had a +continual feeling of uneasiness when I am away from him." + +Considering that he had spent every day since that fatal time, in +Missy's care, this did seem a little hard. She did not reflect, that +perhaps he did not know it--her bitter feelings did not favor calm +reflection. + +"Tell us something more about our future neighbors," said Miss Varian. +But Mr. Andrews had no ability to tell things when he was uncomfortable, +and the atmosphere was palpably uncomfortable, murky and lowering. He +didn't know what he had done, poor man, he had thought he had done such +a fine thing. But in spite of Mrs. Varian's gentle courtesy, and Miss +Varian's cheerful bantering, he knew he had made a mistake. He wished +himself well out of it, and was glad when Mrs. Varian found it chilly +and got up to go into the house. He had found it chilly for some time. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +FIVE CANDLES. + + +The week passed away; a good deal of it was spent by Mr. Andrews in the +city. The expected guests seemed uncertain in the matter of +appointments; either they didn't know their own minds, or they were +trying the mettle of their future host's temper. More than one night he +had stayed in town to meet them and to bring them up, but after a shower +of telegrams, no guests had come. At last, on Friday morning, he had +gone to town, and told the servants he did not know when he should be +back; till he sent a telegram they need not make any preparation for the +visitors. + +This day was Jay's birthday. With a sore heart, Missy had been preparing +for it. She was making this week a sort of valedictory. Every day might +be the last; Jay would never be hers after this. And he had never been +so sweet; he was gentle and good and loving, and never wanted to be out +of her sight. This birthday they had been talking of for many weeks. She +had planned an ideal treat for him; when, on this fatal Friday morning, +she woke up to the news that one of their own servants had come down +with what might be a case of scarlet fever. The girl was carefully +quarantined. Missy had not been near her, and did not propose to go near +her, but it broke up poor little Jay's party. It was impossible to allow +children to come to the house. She took him out for a drive, and all +that, but there was the birthday cake, and there were the candles, and +there were all the pretty little gifts that were to come out of the +simulated charlotte russe. They must have a feast, nothing else could +take its place. So that afternoon she took a sudden resolution. She +would make a sacrifice of her own feelings. She would go to the Andrews' +cottage and give Jay his fête there. + +"Do you think it's wise, Missy?" said her mother faintly. + +"It's kind, at all events," returned Missy. "The poor baby is going to +have hard times enough with the new cousins, it's but fair his last +birthday without them should be festive. I've sent to have the children +I'd invited for him come there. Now, don't look serious, mamma. One must +not be always thinking of one's self. And what is a fiction of +propriety, compared with Jay's happiness?" + +"Compared with his permanent happiness, nothing, but compared with an +afternoon's pleasure, a good deal, and you've been so rigid yourself +about it, Missy. You've eschewed that poor cottage like a pestilence. I +didn't suppose anything would tempt you into it. You felt so bitterly +about our staying there, though you didn't tell me; and I'm sure you've +never crossed the threshold since." + +"And I shouldn't cross it now, but that the master himself's away, +and--and in fact, I haven't the heart to disappoint the child, and +circumstances seem to make it my duty to give up my whim. In short, +mamma, it is too late to be sorry, for I've sent word to the children, +so don't, please, worry any more about it." + +At five o'clock the children came, two stout little girls with hair in +pigtails, and three freckled little boys with shaved heads; they were +the hopes of illustrious families. + +Missy contrasted them with Jay, and wondered that any one could endure +creatures so commonplace, and that patience could be found to provide +them nourishment and clothing. + +Jay, however, seemed to like them very much, and that gave them a +certain importance in her eyes. Gabrielle interested herself deeply in +the attire of the little girls, and the "party" proceeded with great +success through its various stages of shyness, awkward advances, rough +responses, good fellowship, to hilarious riot, and open warfare. They +had a series of games in the boat-house till six, then races on the lawn +till nearly seven, when Missy, tired of adjusting differences and +pinning collars, left them in Eliza's care, and went in to superintend +the arrangement of the tables and the darkening of the windows, so that +the candles might be lighted at half-past seven o'clock. She thought +less well of human nature than usual at the moment. Even in its budding +infancy it could be so disagreeable, and its innocence was so far from +pleasant, what would not its mature development be. Jay himself had +tired her out. He had been willful, selfish, wanting in love to her; his +party seemed to have turned him into somebody else. She again concluded +he wasn't worth it all; but since she had begun the fête, she must go +through with it. It gave her rather an uncomfortable feeling to be going +into the house she had forsworn so vehemently. It was doubly hard now +that Jay's naughtiness had taken away the last excuse she had; he +certainly had not enjoyed himself very much, had not, in fact, had so +many fits of crying and got into so many passions in the same number of +hours since Alphonsine went away last autumn. It certainly had been an +ill-starred birthday. When the waitress came to her for directions about +the table-cloth, she felt sure she detected a smile on her decorous +mouth, and when the cook put her head in at the door and begged to know +if Miss Rothermel wished the cold chicken sliced or whole, she felt all +through her that there was a shade of disrespect in the woman's tones. + +"I am sure," she said, "I know nothing about all that. I suppose you +will give them something for tea, as every day, and I will arrange for +them the cake, and the things that have been sent over from my house. +Only be as quick as you can, for it is getting late." + +The servants snubbed, Missy proceeded to arrange the bonbons. This +necessitated going to the china-closet for a dish to put them on. She +hated this. She wished herself out of the place; her cheeks grew +scarlet, stumbling about among _his_ plates and glasses, his decanters +and soup tureens. She heard low talking and laughing in the kitchen. +What a fool she had been to put herself in this position! What did Jay +have a birthday for, and tempt her out of her resolution? And then she +remembered the poor young mother, the anniversary of whose sufferings +they were keeping without a thought of her. She seemed to be fading out +of the memories of all, loving and unloving, among whom, only a year +ago, she had had her place. She was no more than a name now to her +children. Who could tell whether her husband remembered her departure +with relief or remorse, or remembered her at all? New servants moved +about the house which she had left; new household usages prevailed; +nothing of her seemed left. Here was one who had called herself her +friend, who had thought of her for the first time to-day--this day, +which her throes should have made sacred to her memory. + +Missy tried to catch at the shadow which seemed passing away from her; +tried to realize that this woman of whom she thought, had been, was, the +wife of the man whom she had grown to like, to listen to, to wonder +about. She tried to remember that this dark-eyed, pure-featured picture +was the mother of tawny, snub-nosed, ruddy Jay; but it was all a +picture, an effort of the brain, it was no reality. The reality seemed, +Jay, in the flesh, she who felt she owned him, and the father about whom +she could not keep her resolution, and the household which she had +reconstructed. + +The bonbons looked less pretty to her than when she bought them; she +wished the fête was over, and she herself out of this uncomfortable +house. The waitress, having ended her little gossip in the kitchen, came +in and laid the cloth and closed the windows, and lighted a lamp or two. +Missy arranged the bonbons and the flowers, and the deceitful charlotte +russe, with its cave of surprises. It was nearly half past seven +o'clock, and she put the cake upon the table, and proceeded to arrange +the five candles around it. Now, every one who has put candles around a +birthday cake knows that it is a business not devoid of difficulties. +The colored wax drips on the table-cloth, the icing cracks if you look +at it, the candles lean this way and that, the paper or the match with +which you have lighted them, drops upon the linen or the cake, and +makes a smutty mark. All these things happened to Miss Rothermel, and in +the midst of it, in trooped the impatient children, headed by Jay, who +had burst past Eliza, declaring that he wouldn't wait a minute longer. +The sight of the table was premature; she did not mean to have him see +it till it was perfect. He dragged a heavy chair up beside her, climbed +up on it, tugged at her dress, pushed her elbow, shrieked in her ear. +The moment was an unhappy one; Miss Rothermel was not serene, the +provocation was extreme; she turned short upon him, boxed his ears, took +him by the arms and set him down upon the floor. + +"You're such a little torment," she said, "there is no pleasure in doing +anything for you." + +Jay roared, the sudden, short roar of good-natured passion; the children +crowded round. Missy told them to stand back, while she bent forward to +rescue a candle, tottering to its fall. Jay hushed his howls, intent +upon the candle; the children were all around Missy, with their backs to +the door. Gabrielle had gone around to the other side of the table, +facing the door, and was leaning forward on her elbows, gazing silently, +not at Missy, but beyond her. The candle nodded over the wrong way, a +great blot of green wax dropped upon the table-cloth. Jay screamed with +excitement, and made a dash forward to get his hands in the wax. + +Missy stamped with her foot upon the floor--ah! that it must be +told!--and slapped his hands and pushed him back. And then the sudden +green gleam in Gabby's eyes made her start and look behind her. There +in the door stood--Mr. Andrews and two ladies. How long they had been +there, who can tell? There was a look of amusement on his face, a look +of eager curiosity on the faces of the strangers. The hall was not +lighted, the parlor was not lighted--the dining-room was, in contrast, +quite brilliant, and the decorated table and the group of children quite +a picture. Missy was not capable of speaking, for a moment. She caught +the candle and blew it out, and tried to find her voice, which seemed to +have been blown out, too. + +"What a charming picture," cried the young lady. "This, I know, is Miss +Rothermel--and which are my little cousins?--ah, this must be Jay--he is +your image, Mr. Andrews," and she flew upon him with kisses, while the +mother, singling out a stout, little girl, with a pigtail, not unlike +him in feature, embraced her as Gabrielle. While this mistake was being +rectified, and the correct Gabrielle being presented to her cousins, +Missy recovered herself enough to turn to Mr. Andrews and tell him she +did not think he was coming home that night. + +"The telegram wasn't received then? I sent it at ten o'clock this +morning." + +No, no telegram had been received. The waitress was standing by, the +picture of consternation, and corroborated the statement incoherently. +Missy then explained as well as she could, her presence in the house, +but nobody seemed to listen to her; the ladies were so engrossed with +caressing the children, they did not heed. Mr. Andrews himself seemed +not at all to be interested in any fact but that the children were +having a good time, and that to balance it was the companion fact that +there was no dinner ready. + +The cook was looking through the kitchen door, which was ajar, with a +bewildered face. The birthday cake and the bonbons were a mockery, no +doubt, to the hungry travelers. Missy wished the cake and the travelers +in the Red Sea together. + +"How charming," said Miss Eustace, rising from her knees before Jay, and +looking at the table. "How charming it is, and how good of you, Miss +Rothermel. Mamma, is she not good? Think of giving up all that time for +a little child who never can repay you!" + +"Miss Rothermel is unselfish," said the mother, releasing Gabby from a +final embrace. "Jay ought to love her very much. Jay, you do, I know. +Tell Miss Rothermel you love her." + +"And thank her for the party," cried the daughter, stooping over him +with irrepressible fondness, again. + +"I won't," said Jay, stoutly, pulling himself away. "It's none of you's +business." + +"Jay!" cried his father. + +But Missy moved forward, as if to protect him, and said, "He only means +that he and I can settle our accounts together. Can't we, Jay?" + +Jay did not answer otherwise than by clutching at her gown and scowling +back at the honeyed cousins. How sweet it was, that little fist tight in +her dress; Missy felt it almost made up for the whole affair, and gave +her resolution to make another and more definite apology for being +there. + +"I am sure," cried Miss Eustace, "you are unselfish, indeed. There isn't +one young woman in a hundred would have done it; taking all that +trouble, and coming over here by yourself,--without a lady in the house, +I mean, you know, and all that--and not minding about us, and not +standing on conventionalities, and such tiresome things. Oh, Miss +Rothermel, I am sure we shall be friends. I _hate_ proprieties, and I +love to do what comes into my head. I am so bored with the restrictions +that mamma is insisting on forever." + +Miss Rothermel changed color several times during this speech. It seemed +to her she had never been so angry before; one's youngest grievance is +always one's greatest, however. Perhaps she had hated people as much +before, but it did not seem so to her. She could not say anything, but +she moved towards the door, stooping down to loosen Jay's hands from her +dress. + +"I am very sorry," she said to Mr. Andrews, "to have been the means of +interfering with your dinner. I hope the cook will be able to get +something ready for you." + +"You are not going away?" said Mr. Andrews, anxiously. + +"The children will be so disappointed," said Mrs. Eustace. "We are not +used to them enough to make them happy, yet. Do stay, Miss Rothermel. It +is no matter at all about dinner. I was thinking if the cook would make +some tea and an omelette, and put some plates on for us, we could all +sit down, birthday and all, and make our meal. I think I'd better go out +and speak to her about it--or--or--perhaps you will go, Miss Rothermel?" + +Missy bit her lip, and did not answer, but passed on towards the door, +and her hand was unsteady as she opened it. Jay set up a howl, feeling +that things were wrong. But putting it upon his desire for cake, Miss +Eustace darted forward, and gave him a handful of bonbons, to pacify +him, and taking up a knife, was going to cut the cake. But Jay, who had +correct feelings about the cake, only howled the louder, and struck out +at her so handsomely that she was fain to give it up. She overcame, with +great discretion, a very angry look that came into her eyes, and laid +down the knife, and, wreathed in smiles, threw him a kiss, and said they +would be better friends to-morrow. She was afraid of attempting to offer +the kiss more practically, as Master Jay's fists were heavy, for fists +of only five years of active training. Nobody but Missy knew why he was +howling, or what he meant by his incoherent demands. + +"Oh, I see," she said, turning back with a smile. "He thinks no one else +should cut his cake. Well, Jay, I'll cut it for you, and be sure you +tell me to-morrow who has got the ring." + +Jay's screams subsided, and in a silence born of expectation, Miss +Rothermel stepped forward and took up the knife. It was inevitable that +the new-comers were taking her measure. And it is pleasant to relate +that, pleased by Jay's loyalty, her face was bright, and almost pretty +at the moment, and she was always graceful and her figure admirable. She +leaned over the table, and cut the cake, and gave Jay his piece, and +with great promptness, withdrew to the door again, leaving Miss Eustace +to take her place, and put the remaining pieces of cake into the greedy +hands held out for them. + +"I don't want you to go away from me," cried Jay above the stillness, +with his mouth full of cake, and his eyes full of tears. + +"Oh, but I must," said Missy, giving him a kiss, "and remember to tell +me who gets the ring. Good-night." + +With a sweeping good-night to all the party, she went out before he +could get up another roar. Mr. Andrews followed her, though she was +half-way down the path before he overtook her. It was nearly August, and +the days were already beginning to show the turn of the season. It was +quite dark, coming from the lighted room. + +"I must beg you won't come any further with me," said Missy, at the +gate. "It is quite light, and I am in the habit of walking all about the +place at night." + +"You must allow me," said Mr. Andrews, not going back at all. + +"I think you are needed to keep the children in order, and I am sure you +ought to go back and see about some dinner for those ladies, since +you've brought them here," said Missy firmly, pulling the gate after +her, and looking at Mr. Andrews from the other side of it. + +"I have no doubt they'll see about it themselves, they know more about +it than I do. And I want to thank you, Miss Rothermel, for remembering +Jay's birthday, for I am ashamed to say I had forgotten it myself. The +poor boy would have had a dismal time if it had not been for you. I'm +always having to thank you, you see." + +"I don't see why you should be at that pains. I didn't do it for--for +anybody but Jay, and he and I can settle our little account between +ourselves, as I told the new cousin just now. Good-night," and before +Mr. Andrews could open the gate, she was swallowed up by the darkness +and the shrubbery, and he was obliged to go home, which he did slowly +and in some perplexity. He could only hope his cousins would not be as +difficult to comprehend as his neighbor was. + +As for Missy, she came in with flushed cheeks and threw herself down on +the seat beside her mother's sofa. + +"Aunt Harriet has not come down? That is the first thing that has gone +right to-day. I've got so much to tell you. Mamma, they've come--the new +cousins, I mean--right in the midst of the birthday party, and no dinner +ready for them, and everything about as bad for me as it could be." + +"Now, I suppose you wish you had been contented to stay at home as I +advised you. It _was_ unfortunate. Did Mr. Andrews come with them, and +how did it happen that they were not expected?" + +"Oh, the telegram never was delivered, and they arrived in the last +train, without any carriage to meet them, and trundled down four miles +in the stage, and arrived hungry and tired, to find all the house dark +but the dining-room, and a table full of bonbons and birthday +fripperies, in place of the solid cheer that the solid host delights in. +Jay met them with howls, and kicked the young lady till she could have +cried; but Gabrielle made up in sweetness for the party, ingenuous child +that she is!" + +"I suppose there is no use in asking if you like them: you had made up +your mind on that point long before you saw them!" + +"I hate them. I didn't suppose I could detest any one so much. They are +ready to open the war at once. They haven't even the grace to wait and +see whether I mean to make fight or not. They are bent upon one thing, +making a conquest of the stout Adonis, and securing themselves +permanently in charge of his establishment. They flew upon the children +with kisses before they had seen whether they were oafs or angels; they +opened their batteries on me before they knew whether I was an enemy or +not. The mother assumed the charge of the house before she had been five +minutes in it; the daughter had flattered Mr. Andrews and both the +children _ad nauseam_ before she took her bonnet off. Jay is to be +Mademoiselle's pet, by arrangement, because they have discovered that he +is his father's favorite. Gabrielle falls to Madame's share, and a nice +time may she have of it, petting a green snake. They had heard enough of +me to know I might be dangerous; and they hadn't sense to wait and to +see whether I were or not. It is war to the knife, and now I don't care +how soon they bring on their heaviest guns." + +"Your metaphor is a little mixed, my dear; I am afraid you are not as +cool as could be wished." + +"Ice wouldn't be cool in such a company. You are long past hating any +one, I know, but even you would have had some difficulty in keeping +yourself charitable if you had heard that young woman's oily insolence +to me. She is sure we shall be such friends, for she too is +unconventional and fond of improprieties. _She_ would think it a fine +lark to be free of a gentleman's house while he was away from it; she is +so artless, no one knows what she might not do if she had not dear mamma +to watch her. Gushing young thing; she needs such care. She looks +twenty-five, but I am prepared to celebrate her eighteenth birthday +before the summer passes. I heard her telling Jay to guess how many +candles she would have to get for her cake. I am afraid he said more +than she thought complimentary, for she changed the subject very +quickly, and told him that she had some candy for him in her trunk. He +had just had a surfeit of candy, and he told her, to my delight, he +didn't want her candy, that he had plenty of his own. Wasn't it nice of +him? That's what I call a discriminating child, mamma. It isn't every +boy of five who knows a possible stepmother when he sees her. I am proud +of Jay. I wish I were as confident of his father's discretion. Poor man, +how he will be cajoled! How he will learn to reverence the opinion of +Mrs. Eustace, how he will dote on the airy graces of the daughter. I +wish you could see them, mamma. They rather affect the attitude of +sisters. If it were not for the superior claims of the daughter, I am +sure the mother is capable of aspiring to the post herself. I should not +wonder if it were left an open question with them, which one of them +should have him. Mrs. Eustace certainly is young-looking, but she is +stout. The daughter is ridiculously like her; you seem to jump over +twenty years as you look from one to the other; the same figure, but a +little stouter, the same hair, but a little thinner, the same eyes, but +gone a little deeper in, the same complexion, but a little thickened, +the same smile, but a little more effort in getting it to come. They are +about the same height, and they wreathe their arms about each other, and +smile back and forward, and pose and prattle like a vaudeville." + +"Really, my dear, you made good use of your time. How many minutes were +you in their company, I should like to know?" + +"They arrived about twenty minutes before eight,--it is now ten minutes +past. That is just how long I have known them." + +"Well, dear, for half an hour, I think you are rather venomous. But +though I don't take your judgment of them altogether, I wish they hadn't +seen fit to accept Mr. Andrews' invitation, or that Mr. Andrews hadn't +seen fit to offer them an invitation. Don't let it all bother you, +Missy. It has been rather a muddle from the beginning. I think you'll +have to make up your mind to let Jay go, though it will be pretty hard." + +"Hard!" cried Missy, bitterly. "But of course, I've made up my mind to +it. I went through it all that evening on the lawn, when Mr. Andrews +told us that they were to come. It is but with one object that he +brought them, it will have but one end." + +"I don't believe that he brought them with this object, but I +acknowledge that it may possibly end in giving the poor little fellow a +stepmother. I am afraid he is the sort of man that is easily taken in." + +Missy's face expressed scorn. + +"Yes, he is just that sort of man, and if he didn't drag poor Jay in +with him, I should say I was glad he had got the fate that he deserved." + +"Hardly that, Missy. He has always been very nice to you, and I can't +think why you feel so towards him. But I've always felt it was a mistake +for people to garner up their hearts in other people's children, and +I've wished, from the beginning, that you cared less for the boy. Give +it up now, dear, and make up your mind to interest yourself in other +things." + +"That's very easy to say. I've made up my mind so a hundred times in the +last week, but it doesn't stay made up, and I shall go on caring for him +till he's taken away from me, and a good while after, I'm afraid." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE HONEYED COUSINS. + + +At the end of two weeks, Missy's opinion of the new comers had suffered +no change, and her mother's had not improved. Miss Rothermel, after she +had seen them drive out one day, took occasion to go to the house and +leave Mrs. and Miss Varian's cards, and her own. This visit had been +very promptly returned by the two ladies, whom Missy had not been as +happy in escaping in her own house, as in theirs. Mrs. Varian also saw +them; they were effusive, cordial to suffocation, adroit; they had +evidently changed their minds about the war, and meant to know the +ground better before they engaged the enemy. She found them clever and +amusing; they had traveled a good deal, and seen much of the world. They +were also superficially cultivated, and were familiar with some of the +outposts of art and literature. They had studied and read just enough to +make them glib, and they had tact enough not to go beyond their depth. +Many a deep and quiet student had been abashed before the confident +facility of the pretty Flora in the ateliers where she had studied +abroad; and at home, it is needless to say she overwhelmed her +cotemporaries with her advantages and her successes. What she could not +decently relate, herself, of these and of her social triumphs, her +mother related for her. The daughter, in return, told of her mother's +wonderful abilities and influence; of the Countess This's friendship for +her, the Lady That's indebtedness; there was nothing wanting to fill up +the picture. They did not spare details; in fact, after awhile, the +details became a great bore, though at first they amused everybody, +whether everybody believed in them or not. In short, they were not first +class artists in puff, only clever amateurs; but in a country where this +art is in its infancy, they imposed upon a good many. + +Missy often had occasion to wonder whether Mr. Andrews was imposed upon +or not; he of course might want to marry his cousin, without believing +that so many other people had wanted to. But she longed to know whether +he saw through their palpable little feminine schemes, whether he knew +them for the cheats they were, and was just going into it because he was +fascinated with the young woman's pretty looks and sprightly ways, and +because the older woman knew how to order him good dinners and keep the +children quiet. + +For, that he was going into it, she would not permit herself to doubt. +He looked rather preoccupied and uncomfortable when she saw him. He had +come over one evening alone, to propose some drive or expedition, in +which she had promptly refused to take part. Another evening, he had +come accompanied by Miss Flora, who had made a jest of her +unconventionality, and had been pert and lively to an astonishing +degree, but who had wished herself away many times before the call was +over, and who had said bitter things to her escort about the stiff +household, on her way home. The evenings at the beach gate were at an +end; the distance between the two houses had grown into a chasm. The +children, ah! that was the hardest part, came less and less frequently, +and Jay was as spoiled and changed as Missy, in her greatest +despondency, had imagined. Continued petting and present-giving had +established a certain tie between him and his cousin, and the sight of +Missy always seemed to stir up all the evil in him, or perhaps all the +contradictory good. At all events, he was so palpably bad with her, that +he gave a text that Mrs. Eustace was not slack in preaching on--to wit, +her pernicious influence upon him. Mr. Andrews was a silent man; he did +not say amen to any of these comminations, neither did he contradict +them. + +The chasm between the two houses hourly grew in breadth. Miss Rothermel +had never called after the first. All the advances had to be made by the +new-comers. Miss Varian had, indeed, been rather troublesome, and had +invited the young lady to read to her, and that had been the excuse for +several morning visits. But even her persistence was not proof against +the coldness of the young lady of the house, and finally she ceased to +come at all. The people in the neighborhood had called upon them, and +they had been invited to whatever was going on, which, though it was not +much, was enough to keep their spirits up. They were quite popular, the +mother was called a charming person, the daughter extremely clever, +playing like an artist, painting like a genius, and with such lovely +manners, too. Of course, every one said Mr. Andrews would marry her, or +break his heart about her. They wondered how Miss Rothermel would take +it, and Miss Flora was not slow to express to everybody to whom she had +a chance to express it, her regret that Miss Rothermel did not seem to +like her, and her innocent wonder what could be the cause. + +"For I am not used to being snubbed," she would say. "I don't know why +it is, but people generally seem to like me. I suppose it's because I'm +good-natured, and don't make any trouble. I know, of course, it's +nothing in me different from other people; it's only that I'm happy and +all that. But Miss Rothermel seems to hate me, actually. She really is +quite rude; and I may say it to you, scarcely lady-like in her treatment +of me. Mamma is so incensed about it, and I think it troubles Mr. +Andrews, who is so kind, and wants our summer here to be without a +cloud. But it isn't worth thinking about. I can't help being happy, and +having a beatific time, even if she isn't pleased about it." + +Sailing parties, and drives, and whist and sketching parties had all +been refused by the severe little lady next door; but at last there came +an invitation which she made up her mind to accept. It was to dinner, +and Mrs. Varian had said it must be done. She was troubled a little at +the attitude in which Missy had placed herself, though she could not +help sympathizing with her in her dislike of the two strangers. + +"Am I fine enough, mamma?" said Missy, presenting herself before her +mother, at seven o'clock, one evening the latter part of August. She +was fine, indeed, in a pale grey dress, with a train that was imposing, +and sleeves to the elbow, with beautiful lace, and an open throat with +lace, and lovely stockings, and the most bewildering little shoes. She +had a string of pearls around her neck, and gloves with no end of +buttons, and a great color on her cheeks, and a deal of light in her +pale eyes. + +"Am I fine enough, mamma?" + +"Fine enough, my dear? you are actually pretty; I wish you did not have +to go away. I should like to look at you all the evening." + +Miss Flora was not able to wear pearls of that magnitude, nor lace of +that value; she dressed strikingly, but of necessity, rather cheaply, +and her cheap finery galled her, in the presence of such elegance. Missy +looked much better than usual; Flora looked much worse, having sailed +with Mr. Andrews all the morning, till she had a red tinge on her nose, +and a swollen look about her eyelids and lips. The wind had been very +strong and the sun very bright, and Miss Flora had forgotten to put on a +veil. She had had a very nice sail, but--it was unfortunate that there +was to be dinner company that evening. Darkness and cold cream would +have put her all right, if she could have taken refuge in them instead +of facing all that light and all those people. + +The mother also was a little fretted at some of the domestic +arrangements. The cook had given warning that morning, and the waitress +was doing her worst; the gardener had insulted her point-blank, and the +grocer and the butcher hadn't kept their word. Mr. Andrews liked a good +dinner and no bother; it was but too probable that he wouldn't have the +one to-day, and would have the other to-morrow, when the servants came +to him with their grievances. When to this was added the inflamed state +of Flora's complexion, she felt as if her cup were full, and her eyes +were spiteful as they dwelt on Missy, though her smiles were bountiful. + +Mr. Andrews was silent, after he had spoken to Missy on her arrival, and +they all stood about the room aimlessly, before dinner was ready. If +Mrs. Eustace had stood in a nearer relation to him, what a sharp little +shot he would have had in his ear for not talking to his guests! He had +been talking, quite respectably, for him, to one of the Miss Olors, when +Miss Rothermel came in. Since that occurrence he had been silent, and +Flora had had to speak to him twice before he could be made even to look +at her. This gave a sharp little ring to the young lady's laugh, but he +did not remark it, probably. + +When dinner was announced, he went straight to Miss Rothermel and +offered his arm. But Mrs. Eustace pressed forward and told him he had +forgotten, and that he was to take Miss Olor in. She laughed and told +Miss Rothermel she hoped she would excuse him; he was the most absent of +men. + +"Dear Mr. Andrews," she said, "never remembers the claim of young girls; +Flora and Lily Olor sat by themselves all last evening while he +entertained Mrs. Eve and her sister. Duty is always first." + +"Oh, then I am duty?" murmured Missy, drawing back, hardly knowing what +she said. Mr. Andrews stood speechless with an awkwardness worthy of a +younger man, waiting to know whom he was to take if he was not to take +Miss Rothermel. + +"I don't mean, dear Miss Rothermel," she cried, "that it wouldn't be a +pleasure to take you. We all know nobody can talk half so well or knows +half so much. But Dr. Rogers is to have that pleasure, and Miss Lily +falls to Mr. Andrews' share. You know, dear Mr. Andrews, we talked it +all over this morning, but you are so forgetful." + +Mr. Andrews said to himself, "We didn't do anything of the kind;" but it +wasn't exactly the thing to say aloud, and he was obliged to content +himself with taking pretty Miss Olor and seeing Miss Rothermel made over +to the doctor, who had already diffused an odor of paregoric and rhubarb +through the room. + +Now the doctor was not a man generally invited out to dinner at +Yellowcoats. He was underbred and elderly, and rather stupid. He did not +expect to be invited, and nobody could have been more surprised than he +to receive this invitation. He was indebted to his middle-agedness for +it, and to his stupidity. Mrs. Eustace thought he would be a charming +neighbor for Miss Rothermel, and the fact that he was a widower made it +a beautiful satire. + +The clergyman of the parish took in Mrs. Eustace to dinner; next to him +came Missy, and then the doctor. Opposite, were a mamma and a papa of +the young people at the other end of the table--a mamma, that is, of +one, and a papa of another. At Mr. Andrews' end of the table they were +all young and vivacious: two young Olors, two young men from town, and +Miss Flora, who was youth itself. They were very vivacious--a thought +too much so, for beings who were out of school. They laughed and talked +about things which seemed to have grown up during their mushroom summer +intimacy. Nobody could have seen any thing to laugh at in what they +laughed about; their manners put every one else outside. Mr. Andrews +seemed to be within the circle; he had heard the jokes so often, he +seemed to understand them, and though it was possible that he was bored, +he recovered himself sufficiently to be civil. Mrs. Eustace's end of the +table was a notable contrast, as it was meant to be. She had been +obliged to ask Missy (for whom in fact the dinner was given), but she +had planned to make her as uncomfortable as possible. + +The reverend gentleman was not a conversationalist, the medical one was +heavier than lead. The mamma and papa were solid and undertook their +dinner materially. Mrs. Eustace made talk diligently. She questioned the +clergyman about his Sunday school, the doctor about his patients, she +appealed to Miss Rothermel and the mamma opposite about subjects of +domestic interest. She treated Missy as the cotemporary of herself and +this mamma; she spoke in extenuation of the "young people's" +shortcomings at the other end of the table; she begged these two mature +ladies not to tell anybody in Yellowcoats what a noisy set they were. +Dear Mr. Andrews, she said, enjoyed it so much. It was such a boon to +him to have a cheerful home. He was like another man; only that morning +he had told her he had not realized what a miserable life he had been +leading till they came. And the children, poor neglected darlings, she +could not bear to think of what they had had to endure for the past few +months. + +"I have dismissed their nurse," here she turned to the mamma. "I have +found her a most untrusty person. She goes to-morrow. I have been so +fortunate in securing a servant I have had at different times for +several years. She is a capable, uncompromising creature, and admirable +in the government of children. But here I am running on about the +children; I beg you will excuse me, I know it isn't table-talk. Dear +Miss Rothermel, tell me about your aunt's rheumatism." + +The blow about Eliza's going away had been almost too much for Missy's +fortitude. Mrs. Eustace looked at her critically, while she waited for +the report of Miss Varian's rheumatism. + +"I am afraid that isn't table-talk either," she managed to say; but at +the moment the darlings in question came into the room, and all eyes +were turned to them. Flora opened her arms for Jay to spring into, which +he did with considerable roughness. Gabrielle sidled up to Mrs. Eustace, +who embraced her with a warmth most beautiful to see, and made a place +for her beside her, for dessert was on the table. The children had left +off their mourning, and Gabrielle was braw with sashes and trinkets. As +soon as Jay caught sight of Missy, he began to fret; not to go to her, +but she evidently made him unhappy, and he kept looking at her +furtively, and dashing about the glasses and making plunges for things +out of his reach, and acting as the worst kind of a story-book boy acts, +who is held up as a warning. Flora kept her temper admirably, and bore +his kicks and pushes with a beaming sweetness. He also tore her lace, +which, though cheap, was her own, and possibly her all. + +"He always acts so badly when Miss Rothermel is near," she said, sotto +voce, to her neighbors. "I don't know what it is. I suppose sensitively +organized children feel the influence of temperament, don't you suppose +they do? And really, don't laugh, but that's just the way Miss Rothermel +always makes _me_ feel--restless and fretful, and as if I'd like to +break things, and maybe kick somebody." + +This made them all laugh, even Mr. Andrews, who turned such an admiring, +smiling gaze upon the sunburned Flora, as to fill her with genuine +courage. + +"Dear Jay," she said, caressing him, "they're laughing at me." + +"They ain't," said Jay, loud enough for all the table to hear, "they're +laughing at Missy, and you made 'em." + +"O, fie," cried Mrs. Eustace, half frightened and half pleased. "Your +Flo never did anything so naughty. Little boys sometimes misunderstand." + +Missy felt as if she wanted to cry; it was such an enemy's country she +was in. She was generally quite ready to defend herself, but this time +she had not a word to say; her eyes fell, and her sensitive face showed +her pain. Everybody tried not to look at her, but did look at her, of +course, and then they tried to talk of other things so diligently as to +be apparent. The dinner was wretched after this; a sort of damp crept +over every one, even in the youth's department, as Flora called their +end of the table. Mr. Andrews never said a word, good or bad, to any +one, and that is not a convivial example for a host to set. The dinner +had not been a very good one, although pretentious, and Mrs. Eustace had +secret stings of apprehension from his silence. She did not know +whether it arose from annoyance about the disrespect to Missy, or from +disapprobation of the ducks, which were dried up and skinny, and one +could fancy had a taste of smoke. The dessert was tame, and the coffee +tepid. Contrasted with the perfection of the ménage next door, it was a +very shabby dinner, and Mrs. Eustace felt really vicious when she +watched Miss Rothermel, scarcely attempting to taste the successive +failures set before her. But if the truth were known, it was not +contempt for the failures, but real inability to eat. She had been +galled and wounded beyond her power to show fight; she only asked to get +out of it all, and to be let alone. Even Mrs. Eustace saw she had +perhaps gone too far, as she heard the quiver in Missy's voice, when +called upon to answer some question at a time that everyone was +listening. Mr. Andrews might think she had as much transcended her part +in insulting his guest, as she had fallen below it in not preparing him +a good dinner; she telegraphed to Flora to discontinue. Flora, in alarm, +discontinued, but the ship did not right itself. The mamma and the papa +could not recover themselves, the doctors of medicine and theology were +helpless in the emergency, the young people were in confusion, Mr. +Andrews was struck speechless; it was a total wreck. + +The ladies got into the parlor somehow--the gentleman got through their +smoking somehow. When they met there afterward, it was to find a very +silent party; the young ladies were yawning and declaring themselves +worn out with the sailing party of the morning. Missy was sitting in a +chair by the window, her face away from the rest of the party. Jay was +standing in a chair beside her, pulling at the drapery of the window, +and talking in a very big-boy tone, but in reality very much comforted +by being with her. She had one hand stretched up to take hold of his +skirt, for he was rather in danger of tumbling, notwithstanding his +grand talk. Missy understood him, and was satisfied of his affection. +Mr. Andrews walked straight up to her, not noticing anybody else as he +came into the room. She felt herself color fiercely before she turned +her face around, for she knew that he was coming. + +"Have you and Jay made friends?" he said, unfortunately. + +"I did not know we had quarreled," she returned. She would have resented +anything he said, not having forgotten his approving glance at Flora, +when she made them all laugh at her. + +"I am awfully sorry," began Mr. Andrews, in a low tone, looking at the +carpet. But Missy didn't permit him to finish the sentence. + +"Oh, Mr. Andrews, that is such an old story. You are always being +awfully sorry, but it never prevents things happening. I think the only +way is not to give them a chance to happen. I want to go home now, if +you will see if my maid is come." + +Mr. Andrews went to see if the maid had come. She had, and was having a +beautiful time in the kitchen with the servants. What Mr. Andrews was +thinking of when he came back into the parlor it was difficult to guess +from his face. He might have been angry, he might have been bored, he +might have been wounded. He certainly wasn't in a good humor. He merely +said to Miss Rothermel that her servant was in the hall, and then stood +aside as she moved away, only bowing as she said good-night, and, with a +kiss to Jay, and as few words as possible to the others, passed out of +the room. + +"The only way is not to give such things a chance to happen," she said +to herself, all in a quiver, as she went out into the night, and the +door shut behind her. She heard a not very suppressed noise of laughter +in the parlor, as she passed the windows going off the piazza. She had +crossed that threshold for the last, last time, she said to herself. And +this time she kept her resolution. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +MRS. HAZARD SMATTER. + + +The two houses were now at open war, at least the female part of them. +Jay was forbidden, without any secresy, to go into his neighbor's +grounds, Gabrielle was in an ecstasy of gossip all the while, and +brought Flora news, true and false, continually. She spied through the +hedge, and found the new servants and her high-minded cousins ready to +receive a report of all she discovered, _i.e._, if it were reported in a +whisper. Mr. Andrews seemed to have given up all attempts to reconcile +the contending parties. He never went to the Varians' now, nor made any +effort to exchange neighborly courtesies. + +Missy was very bitter and unhappy, about these days. She knew what all +Yellowcoats was saying about Mr. Andrews and his cousin, for they said +that to her openly. And she surmised what they did not say openly to +her, to wit: that the cause of her own unhappy looks was her +disappointment in the matter. How can one help unhappy looks? One can +help unhappy words; one can do all sorts of things that are meant to +mean happy acts, but how to keep the cloud off one's face at all hours +and moments, is an art yet in the bowels of time. Missy knew she looked +unhappy, and she knew she could not dissemble it. She knew, by this +time, that she was jealous, and jealous not only in the matter of Jay. +She knew that, deride him as she might, the silent widower was an object +of interest to her. She did not yet acknowledge to herself that she +cared for him, but she did acknowledge that it was important to her that +he cared for her, that he gave her a certain sort of admiration. Alas! +she felt a doubt now whether he gave her even a small degree of respect. +For who can respect a jealous woman? And she had been jealous, even +before she saw her rival, or knew more of her than that she might be her +rival. + +There is nothing kills self-respect like jealousy. Missy hated and +despised herself from the moment that she knew she was jealous. She felt +herself no longer mistress of her words and actions. Begin the morning +with the best resolutions in the world, before noon she would have said +or done something that upset them all. She had such evil thoughts of +others, such an eating, burning discontent with herself. She remembered +her childish days, when her jealousy of her stepfather made her a +little fiend. "I was brought up on it, I learned it with my +alphabet,--it is not my fault, it is my fate," she said to herself with +bitterness. + +It was very fortunate perhaps, as she could dissemble so ill, that the +two houses saw so little of each other. Flora was not of a jealous +nature, and it seemed as if she had very little to be jealous about. She +was having it all her own way apparently, and she longed to flaunt her +triumphs in her rival's face. That was the one thing that she felt she +was not succeeding in. She could not be sure Missy knew it, every time +she went out to drive with Mr. Andrews, and that took away half the +pleasure. Miss Rothermel kept herself so much out of reach of criticism +it was unsatisfactory. Pure speculation grew tiresome. It was the +longing of Flora's heart to have another meeting, and to display Mr. +Andrews, but Missy baulked her. At church it could have been +accomplished, but most unhappily Mr. Andrews wouldn't go to church (at +least with them). His amiable and accomplished cousins could make him do +a good deal, but they couldn't make him do that. Neither could they make +him talk about his neighbors nor laugh at any of their sarcasms. + +About this time, Miss Varian had a friend to stay with her. Mrs. Varian +was always rather shy of her sister's friends; they were apt to be +unusual people. This one, however, Mrs. Varian remembered in her youth, +and had no doubt would be of an unobjectionable kind. Mrs. Hazard +Smatter had been an inoffensive New York girl, not considered to carry +very heavy guns, but good-looking and good-natured. That was the last +Miss Varian knew of her. In the revolution of years she turned up again, +now a middle-aged woman, with feeble gray hair, and misgivings about +revealed religion. She had married a Bostonian, and that had been too +much for her. She despised her former condition so much as not to desire +to allude to it. She was filled with lofty aspirations and cultivated +herself. There was nothing that she did not look into, though it was +doubtful whether she saw very much when she did look. Having begun +rather late, she had to hurry a good deal to know all that was to be +known about History, Science, Art, Theology, and Literature; and as +these rivers of human thought are continually flowing on, and +occasionally altering their channels, it was perhaps excusable that +while she kept up, she sometimes lost her breath, and was a little +unintelligible. If it had only been one river, but there was such a lot +of them, and of course a person of culture can't ignore even a little +boiling spring that has just burst out. There's no knowing what it may +develop into; one must watch its course, and not let it get ahead of +one. Taking notes on the universe is hard work, and Mrs. Hazard Smatter +felt that her gray hair was so to be accounted for. It was her one +feminine weakness, the one remnant of her pre-cultured state, that led +her to call it premature. + +What with dress reform, and want of taste, she was not a woman to +reproach with personal vanity. She was rather a little person. She had +pale blue eyes somewhat prominent; a high forehead, which retreated, and +a small chin, which did, too. She attributed these defects to her place +of nativity, and drew many inferences about the habits and mental +peculiarities of her ancestors, which wouldn't have pleased them if +they'd known about it. She had a very candid mind, and of course no +family pride, and it was quite surprising to hear her talk on this +subject. + +Mrs. Varian was quite frightened the first evening. Miss Harriet was +delighted. She always had liked the dangerous edge of things, and had +felt herself defrauded in being forced to live among such conventional +people as her sister's friends. Mrs. Smatter was so unexpectedly changed +from the commonplace comrade of her youth, that she could not be +thankful enough that she had sent for her. The first evening they only +got through Inherited Traits, the History of Modern Thought, the +Subjection of Women, and a few other light and airy themes, which were +treated, of course, exhaustively. To Miss Varian, it was a foretaste of +rich treats in store. + +"Mamma," cried Missy, when she was alone with Mrs. Varian, "what kind of +creature have we got hold of?" + +"I can't classify her," said her mother. "But I am afraid it will be +very hard to use hospitality without grudging towards a woman who talks +so about her grandfather, and who knows so much more than we do about +the sacerdotal systems of the prehistoric races." + +"I'd much rather she'd talk of things I don't understand, than of things +I do. How long do you suppose she is going to stay?" + +"I am afraid Harriet will never be willing to let her go, she seems so +charmed with her." + +"Don't you think she might be persuaded to take Aunt Harriet home to +Boston with her, to live? Fancy, a few minds to tea two or three times a +week, and on the alternate nights, lectures, and clubs, and classes. It +is just what Aunt Harriet needs, indeed it is. See if you can't lead up +to it, mamma." + +The next morning, when Missy passed the guest's room, the door of which +stood open, she was surprised to see a complete revolution in the +furniture. The rugs had all been taken away, the curtains, unhooked and +folded up, were lying on a chair, the sofa and two upholstered chairs +were rolled away into the adjoining chamber. The bed, pushed out into +the room, stood in a most awkward attitude at right angles with nothing. +On the pillow was pinned a pocket compass, which indicated due north. +Goneril, who was putting the room in order, with set teeth, explained +that it was by the lady's orders, who had instructed her that her bed +must always stand at exactly that angle, on account of the electric +currents. + +"I take it," said the woman, "she doesn't like to ride backwards." + +The rugs were liable to contain disease germs, as well as the +upholstered furniture, and she had intimated that she would like the +walls rubbed down with carbolic once or twice a week. + +"I told her," snapped Goneril, "that we weren't a hospital, no more were +we a hotel." + +It was well that the duster was not made of anything sterner than +feathers, or the delicate ornaments of the dressing-table would have had +a hard time of it, for she brushed with increased vehemence as she got +worked up in talking. "She told me she would have preferred straw for +her bed, but it was no matter now, as it was all made up. Straw was the +only thing for beds, she said, and to be changed once a week. I'm sorry +I didn't take her at her word. I know she enjoys the springs and the +new mattress, and if it hadn't been for the trouble, I'd have given her +her fill of straw, and lumpy straw at that. I told her I was used to +clean and decent Christian folks, who didn't need to have their beds +burned once a week, and who didn't carry diseases about with them, and +who could get along without carbolic. And as to carrying up water enough +to flush a sewer every night and morning, I wouldn't do it for her nor +any other woman, clean or dirty. And as to being called up at twelve +o'clock at night to look at the thermometer and to close the window an +inch and a quarter, and to spread a blanket over her feet to keep the +temperature of her body from going a little bit too low--and then being +called up at five to look again, and to take the blanket off, and to see +that it didn't get a little too high,--it's just a trifle more than I +can bear. I hope the new woman will like it, when she comes. _I'm_ going +next week, Wednesday, and that's the end of it." + +"I am ashamed of you, Goneril; you're not going to do anything of the +sort. Don't upset Miss Varian by talking so to her. Let her have a +little peace, if she likes Mrs. Smatter." + +"I'm the one to talk about being upset. It's bad enough to wait on an +old vixen like Miss Varian, but when it comes to waiting on all her +company, and when her company are fools and idiots, I say it's time to +go. I've put up with a good deal in this house. I've come down in the +world, but that's no reason I should put up with everything. It's one +thing to say you'll be obliging and sleep in a room that's handy, so you +could be called if anything extraordinary happened, where the person +you're looking after is afflicted of Providence. But it's another thing +to be broke of your rest two nights running to keep count of the +thermometer over a well woman who hasn't sense enough to know when she's +hot and when she's cold. It's bad enough to be Help anyhow, but it ain't +worth while to be walked over. I can stand folks that's got some sense, +even if they've got some temper. But people like this, jumbling up +almanacs and doctors' books, and free thinkin' tracts; them I can't +stand, and what's more, I won't stand, and there's an end of it." + +There wouldn't have been an end of it, though, if Miss Rothermel had not +got up and walked away. There is a limit beyond which even American +Farmers' Daughters must not be permitted to go, and Goneril had +certainly reached that limit, and as she would have talked on for an +hour in steadily increasing vehemence, there was nothing but for Missy +to go away, with silent disapprobation, and wish the visitor well out of +the house. The visitor she found at the breakfast-table, blandly +stirring her weak tea, and waiting for her oatmeal to have an additional +fifteen minutes on the fire. The cook had been called in and +acknowledged that the oatmeal had only had two hours of cooking. Mrs. +Smatter had explained, on exact scientific principles, the necessity of +boiling oatmeal two hours and thirty-five minutes, and the wheels of +breakfast stood still while this was being accomplished. The cook was in +a rage, for oatmeal was one of her strong points, and she always boiled +it two hours. Miss Varian was growing distrustful of everything. Mrs. +Smatter had raised her suspicions about the adulteration of all the food +on the table. Even the water, she found, wasn't filtered with the proper +filter, and there was salt enough in the potatoes to destroy the +tissues of a whole household. She desired the waitress to have a pitcher +of water boiled for her, and then iced; and she would be glad if she +would ask the grocer where he got his salt. + +By dinner time Miss Varian's usual good appetite was destroyed; she was +so engaged in speculating about the assimilation of her food, that she +had a bad indigestion. When evening came, she was so fretful she was +almost inclined to quarrel with her new-found friend. As they sat around +the lamp, Mrs. Smatter became a little restless because the conversation +showed a tendency to degenerate into domestic or commonplace channels; +she strove to buoy it up with æsthetic, speculative, scientific +bladders, as the case might be. Missy pricked one or two of these, by +asking some question which wasn't in Mrs. Smatter's catechism; but, +nothing daunted, she would inflate another, and go sailing on to the +admiration of her hearers. + +A letter had come from St. John, in which he gave some hope that he +might return in the autumn, though he entered into no explanation of the +reason for such a change of plan. Missy was all curiosity, and her +mother was all solicitude, but they naturally did not talk much to each +other about it, and of course did not wish it alluded to in Mrs. +Smatter's presence. Miss Varian, however, asked questions, and brought +the subject forward with persistence. It seemed to Miss Rothermel +profanation to have her brother's name spoken by this woman. What was +her dismay to hear Mrs. Smatter say, settling herself into a speculative +attitude: + +"I hear, Mrs. Varian, that your son is in one of those organizations +they call brotherhoods. I should like very much, if you don't mind, if +you would tell me something about his youth, and how you brought him up, +and what traces you saw of this tendency, and how you account for it." + +"I don't understand," faltered Mrs. Varian. "Do you mean--his +education--or--or--" + +"I mean," said Mrs. Smatter, "was he physically strong, and properly +developed, and did you attend to his diet? I should have thought oatmeal +and fish and phosphates might have counteracted this tendency; that is, +of course, if you could have anticipated it." + +"He has always been in very fine health," said the mother. + +"Indeed! That seems inexplicable. I have always felt these things could +be accounted for, if one were inclined to look into it. It _must_ be the +result of something abnormal, you know. If we could look into the +matter, I am sure we should find the monastic idea had a physical +basis." + +"Indeed!" said Miss Varian, tartly. "Well, I shouldn't have thought it +had anything of the kind. No more than that the culinary idea had a +spiritual basis." + +"I have always thought," remarked Mrs. Smatter, ignoring the +interruption, "that science would do well to study individual cases of +this kind, to ascertain the cause of the mental bias. It would be useful +to know the reason of the imperfect development of the brain, for +instance, of this young man, who represents a class becoming, I am told, +quite numerous. Do you remember, dear Mrs. Varian, any accident in +childhood--any fall?" + +"I really think you've got beyond your depth," cried Miss Varian, under +the spur of indigestion and family feeling. "If I were you I would talk +about things I understood a little. St. John Varian isn't down in your +books, my dear. You can't take him in any more than you can the planet +Jupiter, and you'd better not try." + +"Indeed," said Mrs. Smatter, a little uneasy. "Is he so very remarkable +an entity?" + +"I don't know anything about his entity, but he has a good brain of his +own, if you want to know that, and he didn't fall down stairs when he +was a child, any more than St. Charles Borromeo, or St. Francis Xavier, +or Lacordaire did. But then, perhaps you think they did, if it were only +looked into. Fancy what a procession of them, bumping down the stairs of +time, or tumbling out of trees of knowledge that they'd been forbidden +to climb up." + +Missy laughed, a little hysterically, and that irritated Miss Varian, +whose indigestion was really very bad, and who was naturally opposed to +Missy, and who was ashamed to find herself tackling her guest in this +way and upholding the unpardonable step of St. John in the hearing of +his mother, who was to blame for it. It was exasperating, and she didn't +know whom to hit, or rather, whom not to hit, she was so out of patience +with everybody. + +"If you'd give up the phosphates," she said, "and inquire into the way +he was brought up, you might get more satisfaction. How he was drilled +and drilled and made to read saints' lives, and told legends of the +martyrs when he was going to bed, and made to believe that all that was +nice and jolly in life was to be given up almost before you got it, and +that all the sins in the decalogue were to be confessed, almost before +you'd committed them; if you'd look into _this_, you might get a little +light upon your subject." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Smatter, interested, "perhaps that might account--" + +"Aunt Harriet," cried Missy, getting up, and letting her work fall on +the floor--spools, thimble and scissors dispersing themselves in +corners--"Aunt Harriet, there is a limit--" + +"A limit to what? Superstition and priest-craft--maudlin sentiment and +enervating influence--" + +"Mamma, won't you go up stairs with me?" cried Missy, and there was no +time given Mrs. Smatter for further speculation, or Miss Varian for +further aggression. After the door closed behind them, Miss Varian's +wrath rose against her inquisitive friend, and family feeling carried +the day. + +"You'd better drop the subject of St. John, permanently," she said with +decision. + +And Mrs. Smatter accommodatingly offered to read her a treatise on the +Artistic Dualism of the Renaissance, with which the evening closed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +A GARDEN PARTY. + + +The summer had come to its end, to its very last day. Mrs. Hazard +Smatter still lingered at Yellowcoats, notwithstanding the defective +sanitary arrangements and the absence of stimulating mental contact. +Miss Varian had felt considerable mortification that her friend should +know she lived in such an atmosphere, and was always speaking of it +apologetically and as temporarily stagnant. She had however given Mrs. +Varian no rest till she had consented to see that it was her duty to +provide some social entertainment for Mrs. Smatter, something, of +course, inadequate to the mental needs of that lady, but something that +would show her that she was still in the midst of civilized life. A lady +who used familiarly the names that Mrs. Smatter did, could not of course +be dazzled by the doctor or the rector. But she could be made to see +that they had a good many young women who dressed well and several men +who were good style. And there were two painters, and a stray architect +or so, and a composer, staying in the place. These were not much, to +make a show against the minds to which Mrs. Smatter was accustomed, but +they were better than nothing. Therefore, Mrs. Varian must have at least +two headaches, and Missy at least three days' work writing her +invitations and getting up her garden party. + +Now, a garden party is a charming thing, when everything is favorable. +All the neighborhood was delighted at the prospect, for invitations to +garden parties were not rife in Yellowcoats, and the Varians' place was +unusually nice for such a thing. + +The weather had been close and warm for several days, and the deep shade +of the trees upon the lawn and the cooling ripple of the water beyond +had entered into the picture everyone had drawn of the projected garden +party. But on the morning of that day, a cold east wind set in, and +dashes of rain fell about noon--then the sky grew leaden from having +been gusty and mottled, and though no more rain fell, the wind was as +raw as November, and the chill was something that ate to one's very +marrow. A garden party! the very idea became grotesque. A warming-pan +party, a chimney-corner party, a range, a furnace-party, would all have +been more to the purpose. + +But people came, and shivered and looked blue. They huddled together in +the house, where fires were lighted, and gazed out of windows at the +cold water and the dreary lawn. A few daring spirits braved the blast, +and went out to play lawn-tennis and a little feeble archery. But their +courage did not keep them long at it in gauze de Chambery and India +mull. One by one they dropped away and came shaking back into the house. + +Mrs. Smatter was quite above being affected by the weather. She expected +to hold high carnival with the painters and the architect, who were of +course presented to her at once. The composer, a grim, dark man, looking +like a Mexican cut-throat, held off. He preferred young women, and did +not care to talk about Wagner out of office hours. The architect was a +mild young person, not at all used to society, and he very soon broke +down. Mrs. Smatter was a little agitated by this, and did not +discriminate between her painters; she talked about the surface muscles +to the landscape man, and about cloud effects to the figure painter. +This confused everybody, and they severally bowed themselves away as +soon as they could, and Mrs. Smatter ever after spoke with great +contempt of the culture of Yellowcoats. She was obliged to content +herself with the doctor and the rector, who did not dare to go away +while she was asking them questions and giving them information, which +she never ceased doing till the entertainment ended. + +As to Missy, the whole thing was such a vexation and disappointment she +scarcely knew how to bear it. The bright fires and the flowers, and the +well-ordered entertainment redeemed it somewhat, but it remained a +burlesque upon a garden party, and would never be what it was meant to +be. The people from next door had come--Miss Flora in a new gown, and +the mother all beaming in a bonnet crowned with buttercups; Mr. Andrews +very silent and a trifle awkward. There were too many people to make it +necessary to say many words to them when they came in, and they were +presently scattered among the crowd. + +An hour later, Missy, with her cheeks flushed from the talking and the +warm rooms, went out of the summer parlor and across the lawn to a pair +of young people who had been silly enough to stay there till there was +danger of their being made ill by the cold. She had promised an anxious +mamma by the fire to see that her daughter had a shawl or came in, and +had just delivered the message and the shawl and turned away from the +obdurate little idiot, who would not give up her flirtation even to +escape pneumonia, when she saw that Mr. Andrews had followed her. + +"It is a very unlucky day for my garden party," she said, as he joined +her. "The sky and the water like ink, and a wind that actually howls." + +"I wanted to speak to you a moment," he said, as if he had not noticed +what she was saying. "Will you take cold here for a moment?" + +"No," she answered, feeling her cheeks burn. + +"This has been an unlucky summer in some ways, Miss Rothermel, but now +it's over; and before we part, I want to say a few words to you." + +"Certainly," said Missy, distantly. "I hope you're not going away soon?" + +"I've taken passage for the 6th, that is a week from to-day, and I don't +know when we shall return--very possibly not for several years." + +There was a pause, while Missy got her voice steady and staggered up +from under the blow. + +"I've been unlucky this summer, as I said, and seem to have managed to +give you offense by everything I did." + +Now, no woman likes to be told she's not sweet-tempered, even if she +knows she is a spitfire, and this nettled Missy sharply, and steadied +her voice considerably. + +"I am sorry," she said, "that you think me so unamiable, but I don't +exactly know why you should think it well to tell me of it." + +"I haven't told you that you were unamiable; I have told you that I +hadn't been able to do the thing that pleased you, though Heaven knows +I've tried hard enough." + +"It's a pity that I'm such a dragon. Poor little Jay, even, is afraid of +me by this time, isn't he?" + +"I don't know about Jay. I'm rather stupid about things, I'm afraid. +Women perplex me very much." + +Missy drew the scarf that she had picked up in the hall as she came out, +about her shoulders, and beat her foot upon the gravel as if she were +cold and a trifle tired of Mr. Andrews' sources of perplexity. + +"What I wanted to say," he went on, "is, that I thank you always for +what you've been to the children." + +"Ah, please," she cried, with a gesture of impatience. + +"And that I shall always regret the misstep that I took in bringing my +cousins here. I did it in the hope that it would make it possible for +you to come familiarly to my house and remove all the annoyances from +which you had suffered. I made a mistake, it has all gone wrong. As I +said before, I don't understand your sex, and it is best, I suppose, +that I should give up trying to. Only there are some things that I +should think you might express to a woman as you would to a man. I +desire to say I am sorry to have given pain and annoyance to you all the +time, as I and mine seem to have been the means of doing. I have great +cause to feel grateful to you, and nothing can ever change the high +esteem in which I hold you." + +"Thank you very much," said Missy; "not even the opinion of the ladies +of your household?" + +Mr. Andrews turned his head away, with a stolid look towards the +lead-colored bay. + +"I don't suppose anything will be gained by discussing them," he said. + +"No, Mr. Andrews, for I don't like them, and you know when women don't +like each other they are apt to be unreasonable." + +Mr. Andrews was silent, and his silence roused a fire of jealousy in his +companion's mind. Why did he not say to her that he despised them, that +he saw through them, that he did not think her prejudice against them in +the least unreasonable? + +"We shall get cold if we stay here any longer I'm afraid," she said, +moving slowly forward up the path. + +Mr. Andrews walked beside her for a moment without speaking, then he +said very deliberately: + +"You have given me much pain, at various times, Miss Rothermel, and a +heavy disappointment, but nothing can ever alter my regard for you. A +man, I suppose, has no right to blame a woman for disliking him; he can +only blame her for misleading him--" + +The path from the beach-gate to the house was too short--too short, ah, +by how much! they were already at the steps. Missy glanced up and saw +more than one eager and curious pair of eyes gazing down upon the +tête-à-tête. It was over, it was ended, and Missy, as in a dream, walked +up the steps and into the chattering groups that stood about the summer +parlor. She knew all now--what she had thrown away, what her folly of +jealousy had cost her. The mists of suspicion and passion rolled away, +and she saw all. Many a woman, younger and older, has seen the same, the +miserable, inevitable sight--jealousy dead, and hope along with it. + +The cold wind had not taken the flush out of her cheeks; she walked +about the parlors and talked to the guests, and, to her own surprise, +knew their names and what they said to her. Since she had gone out upon +the lawn to take the shawl to the foolish virgin there, the world had +undergone a revolution that made her stagger. Such a strong tide had +borne her chance of happiness away from her, already almost out of +sight, she wondered that she could stand firm and watch it go. What a +babble of voices! How wiry and shrill and imbecile the clanging of +tongues! It was all like a dream. The woman whom she had dreaded, +unmasked and harmless walked before her, a trifler among triflers, a +poor rival indeed. The man whom she had lost stood there silent in a +group of flippant talkers, more worthy and more manly now that he was +beyond her reach. What was the use of regretting? No use. What was the +use of anything? No use. + +Miss Rothermel looked uncommonly well, they said to each other driving +home, almost pretty, really, and so young. What could that tête-à-tête +have signified between her and Mr. Andrews? He was evidently out of +spirits. What an odd thing it would be after all if he had really liked +her. There was something queer about it all. Going abroad with his +cousins, however, didn't much look like it. It was a puzzle, and they +gave it up. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +P. P. C. + + +Every day of that week Missy walked about as in a dream, and with a +single thought in her mind. When and how should she meet Mr. Andrews, +and was there any possible hope to be built upon the meeting? A hundred +times, to be more accurate, a thousand times, she went over the scene; +she made her confession, she entreated his pardon, she felt the joy of +perfect understanding and confidence. She met him by the sea--on the +cliffs--in the garden--in the library--at church--by the +roadside--sometimes it was alone--sometimes there were others in the +way. Ah! who does not know what ingenuity fancy has to multiply those +interviews? How between troubled moments of sleep one goes through scene +after scene of the ensnaring drama; underscored, obliterated, blotted, +incessantly altering time and place--but through all walking and +speaking the two, beside whom all other created souls are shadows? Who +does not know the eloquence, the passion, the transport? Who has not +burned with shame at the poor reality; the blundering words, if they +ever come to be spoken; the miserable contradiction of Fate, if the +interview ever comes about? + +There were but six days and nights for Missy to dream and hope about her +reprieve, and she employed them well. She was white and languid-looking +in the morning, but from the first sound of the knocker, the first step +heard upon the walk outside, a spot of color burned in her cheeks, and a +strange glow shone from her light eyes. She was absent-minded, +imperious, impatient. She was living upon a chance, the throw of a dice, +and she couldn't say her prayers. She wanted to be let alone, and she +hated even her mother when she interfered with this desire. + +The six days had worn themselves away to one, uneventful, save for the +blotted score of Missy's dreams. This day must bring some event, some +occurrence, good or bad. It was impossible that Mr. Andrews would go +away and offer such a disrespect to, at all events, her mother, as not +to come and say good-bye. It was a fixed fact in her mind that he would +come. She dressed for it, she waited for it, she counted off the +moments, one by one. Not a motion of wind in the trees missed her ears, +not a carriage rolled along the road, nor a step crossed the lawn that +she did not hear. + +At last, in the afternoon, there came some steps up from the gate. A +group under the trees; for a moment she could not discern them, but +presently she saw he was not with them. There came the two ladies, with +Jay and Gabrielle, Flora and the latter laughing and romping, and +apparently trying to get themselves quieted down before entering the +house of their stiff-necked neighbors. Missy came down stairs to find +them talking with her mother in the parlor. Flora was in brilliant +spirits, the prospect of "dear Europe" again, she said, had quite upset +her. Mrs. Eustace was rather overbearing, and less suave and +conciliatory than usual. She found herself so near "dear Europe" and a +settlement for Flora, that she could afford to be natural for once. She +fastened herself upon Mrs. Varian, and was sufficiently disagreeable to +cause even that languid lady to wish the visit over. Flora, sweet young +thing, stood to her guns manfully till the very last minute, and made +Missy's cheeks burn and her eyes glow. Though she knew she had given her +whatever success she would ever have, and had played into her hand, and +thrown up her own game in a pet, she could not hear her calmly. + +"We are all so eager to get off," she said. "I was telling the Olors +they mustn't think it uncomplimentary to Yellowcoats, though it does +sound so! I have had a _lovely_ time. I never shall forget it! A +beatific summer! And mamma has enjoyed it, too, though she has had a +great deal of care and worry getting things into shape after those +dreadful servants that we found there. But poor Mr. Andrews has had such +a horrid time ever since he took the place that I think he fairly longs +to get away, and never see it again. 'Thank heaven, it's the last day of +it!' he said this morning, poor dear man, with such an emphasis." + +"Papa meant the hall stove," said Gabrielle, in an insinuating little +voice. "Because it smoked so dreadfully." + +This took Flora aback for a moment; she choked as if somebody had hold +of her throat, then, with a sweet smile to Gabrielle, "Very likely he +said it about the hall stove too, dear," she said, and putting her arms +around the engaging child's waist, went on to ask Miss Rothermel if they +meant to spend the winter in the country. + +Miss Rothermel thought it probable, though it was not quite determined. + +"How dreary!" exclaimed Miss Eustace. "It passes me to understand how +you can exist. I suppose, though, one doesn't mind it so much as one +gets--I mean--that is--as mamma says--at my age--" And she stopped with +a pretty naïve embarrassment, which was surprisingly well done. She +recovered from it to say: + +"And Mr. Andrews tells us you are _so_ domestic. He thinks he didn't see +you once all winter long." + +"No," said Missy. "I don't remember seeing him at all, all winter. But +the children came, and Jay was a great pleasure to me." + +"Fancy," cried Flora, "being amused by a child to that extent. I dote on +children, but oh, I dote on other things too. Mr. Andrews thinks he will +settle us at Florence, and if he finds a satisfactory governess, we +shall be free to leave the children, and he will take us to Rome, and +Naples, and there is a talk of Spain. Oh, we spend all our leisure hours +in mapping out excursions. I tell mamma it is like the Arabian Nights. I +have only to wish a thing, and it comes. Mr. Andrews has such a way of +ordering and carrying out what you want, and putting things through. +Don't you think so?" + +"I don't know," said Missy. "I never traveled with him and I can't +judge." + +"Well, I never did either, except on paper, and we've been around the +world that way. But I mean in excursions, picnics, and sailing parties, +and all that. You see he has kept us busy this summer, always planning +something for us. I don't think there ever was anybody so good as +Gabrielle's good papa!" cried the young lady, giving Gabrielle a little +hug and a kiss. + +Gabrielle received this attention in silence, shooting a penetrating +glance across towards Missy. It is probable that this gifted child fully +understood the position of affairs. + +"But it seems dreadful to think of you here all winter," pursued Miss +Eustace. "Nobody is going to stay, as far as I can hear. And I should +think you'd be afraid, only you three ladies, and yours the only house +open anywhere about. It was a sort of protection, last winter, when Mr. +Andrews was here, even if you didn't see him." + +"Yes, it was pleasant to feel the next house was inhabited. But I don't +think there is anything to be afraid of." + +"Suppose you had another fire. What a fright you must have had, Miss +Rothermel! It must have been quite an experience. And so droll. I +suppose there is always a droll side to things, if one has the ability +to see it. Mr. Andrews has told me all about it. Don't you think he has +a strong sense of humor, Miss Rothermel?" + +Miss Flora's face expressed great amusement at the recollection of +something connected with the fire. She repeated her question, which +Missy had not answered. + +"He is so very quiet, one wouldn't suspect him of it, but don't you +think he has a keen sense of the ridiculous?" + +"I have never thought of it," said Missy. "I should rather have said +not. But of course you know him best." + +"I've always threatened to ask you some questions about the fire," she +continued, with merriment in her eyes. "But he made me promise not." + +"Then I don't see that I can help you," Miss Rothermel said. + +"I shall be anxious to know how you get out of the next fire, without +Mr. Andrews here to see to it." + +"I hope we sha'n't have another fire; but if we do, we shall miss Mr. +Andrews, I am sure, for he was most kind in every way. But it is +possible that we may not be alone; my brother may spend the winter with +us; he is coming home this autumn." + +"Your brother? Is it possible? That is the young--the young--monk, that +I've heard them talking of." + +"Yes." + +"Oh, then I am almost sorry that we're going away. I had such a +curiosity to see him. Probably you don't know, but I take the greatest +interest in the Catholic movement." + +"I certainly had not suspected it." + +"Oh, dear Miss Rothermel, how sarcastically you said that. I find Mr. +Andrews was right about that + + "keen, sarcastic levity of tongue, + The stinging of a heart the world hath stung." + +"Papa said that about old Mr. Vanderveer; it wasn't about Missy," put in +Gabrielle again, and this time she didn't get a kiss for it. + +"You are a very pert little girl," said Flora, withdrawing her arm, "and +would be the better for a year or two of boarding-school." + +Gabrielle gave a frightened look at Missy, and dropped her eyes. At this +moment Jay, on the other side of the room, pulled over a stand of +flowers, and in consequence of the noise and alarm, began to cry. Missy +ran to him, and putting her arms around him, whispered that he needn't +care about the flowers, that if he'd give her a dear kiss and be her own +little boy again, she'd like it better than all the flowers in America. +This comforted him, and he consented to dry his eyes, and accompany her +to the dining-room, to look for cake on a shelf which he knew of old. +Missy did not hurry to take him back, and they had an old-time talk, and +a great many kisses and promises. He was quite like himself when he was +away from his cousins. + +"You'll be a big boy when I see you again, Jay," she said, "and you'll +have forgotten all about me when you come back from over the water." + +"Why don't you go 'long with me, then," he said, with a voice rendered +husky by cake. + +"Oh, you've got your cousin Flora. I should think she was enough for any +little boy." + +"She can go to boarding-school with Gabby," said Jay, settling himself +closer into Missy's lap, and taking another piece of cake. Missy laughed +at this disposition of the triumphant young lady in the other room. + +"I don't know what she'd say to that, nor papa either," she added, in a +lower tone. + +"Papa wouldn't mind. Papa's a man, and he can do anything he wants to. +You can come with us, and you can ride my pony that I'm going to have, +and papa can drive you with his horses, like he did that day." + +"Ah, Jay, that would be nice indeed, only I'm afraid Gabby and the two +cousins wouldn't agree to it." + +"I'd make 'em," said Jay. "Papa's going to buy me a little pistol, and +I'd shoot 'em if they didn't." + +In such happy confidences the minutes slipped away. Presently the voice +of Flora called Jay from the hall, and, recalled to civility, Missy took +him by the hand and went back. She found them all standing up, preparing +to take leave. + +"I am sorry to hurry you, Jay, but we must go." + +"Won't you please leave Jay to spend the afternoon with me?" asked +Missy. "I will send him safely back at whatever hour you say." + +"That would be very pleasant," said Mrs. Eustace, "but Mr. Andrews is +going to take us for a drive, and charged us to be back at four o'clock, +to go with him. He has been hurrying all the morning to get through with +everything, so that he might be at liberty to take this drive, which is +a sort of farewell to Yellowcoats. He seemed to want to have the +children go, though I am afraid we shall be rather late getting back for +them. We take the early train in the morning, but I believe everything +is in readiness for the start. You may imagine I have had my hands full, +Mrs. Varian." + +Mrs. Varian expressed her sympathy, the good-byes were said, Missy held +Jay tight in her arms, and kissed his little hands when she loosened +them from her own, and watched the group from the piazza as they walked +away. + +Then he was not coming this afternoon. He preferred a drive with these +ladies, to coming here. No, she did not believe it was any pleasure to +him to go with them. He had his own reasons. She would rest upon the +belief that he would come in the evening. + +The afternoon was fine and clear, with a touch of autumn in the air. +She longed to be alone and to be free--so, telling no one of her +intention, she wandered away along the beach and was gone till after six +o'clock. The short day was ended and dusk had already fallen. She was +little tired by her long walk, but soothed by the solitude, and braced +by the thought of what evening would surely bring her. + +The lamp was newly lighted at one end of the hall, and was burning +dimly. As she passed up the stairs, her eye fell on some small cards on +the dark table near the door. With a sudden misgiving, she went back, +and picking them up, went over to the lamp to read them. They were three +cards of "Mr. James Andrews," with p.p.c. in the corner. + +I don't know exactly what Missy thought or felt when she read them. She +stood a few minutes in a stupid sort of state. Then, the drive had been +a fable, and the hand of fate was against her. The precious opportunity +was lost, while she was wandering aimlessly along the beach, saying over +and over to herself, the words that now never would be spoken. She had +tossed away from her her one chance, as she had tossed pebbles into the +water while she walked that afternoon. She had felt so secure, she had +been so calm. Now all was over, and the days and nights that had been +given to this meeting were days and nights that mocked her when she +thought of them. How she had been cheated! She realized fully that the +chance was gone. She knew that months of separation, just as they were +situated, would have been enough to make a renewal of friendship +impossible, and here were years coming in between them. No, the only +moment that she could have spoken would have been while the +recollection of what he had said to her the other day upon the lawn, was +fresh in both their minds. Perhaps, already, it was too late to revive +any feeling for her; but at least, she could have tried. She hadn't any +pride left. At least, she thought she hadn't, till, in her own room, she +found herself writing to him. Then, when she saw the thing in black and +white, she found she had still a little pride, or perhaps, only a sense +of decency. Here was a man who hadn't talked to her about love, who +hadn't said anything that anybody mightn't have said about an ordinary +friendship. She knew quite well that he meant more, but he hadn't said +more, and by that she must abide. So she tore her letter up; ah, the +misery of it all. She bathed her eyes and smoothed her hair, and went +stonily down to tea when the bell rang. When the tea bell rings, if the +death-knell of your happiness hasn't done tolling, you hear it, more's +the marvel. + +The monotonies of Mrs. Smatter and the asperities of Miss Varian for +once roused little opposition. Missy had a fevered sense of oppression +from their presence, but she was too full of other thoughts to heed +them. After tea there was something to be done for her mother, who was +ill from the strain of the afternoon's visitors, and two or three +persons on business had to be attended to. She felt as if she had begun +a dreadful round of heartless work that would last all her life. + +When at last she was free from these occupations she threw a cloak +around her shoulders and went out on the piazza. The night was dark and +still, and as she listened she could hear voices and sounds from the +other house--a door close, a window put down, a call to a dog, the +rattle of his chain. Then she heard the shrill whistle, which she knew +was the summons for the man from the stable, and after a few moments she +heard Mr. Andrews' voice on the piazza. + +With an impulse that she made no attempt to resist, she went down the +steps and ran quickly across the lawn, and, standing behind the gate, +under the heavy shadow of the trees, strained her eyes through the +darkness, and gazed over toward the next house. Mr. Andrews was talking +with the man, who presently went away, and then he walked up and down on +the piazza slowly; it was easy to hear his regular tread upon the +boards, and to see a dark figure cross the lighted windows. That was as +near as he would ever be to her again, perhaps. + +After a few moments he came down the steps, walked slowly along the +path, and stood leaning against the gate. She could see the spark of his +cigar. They were not two hundred feet apart. If she had spoken in her +ordinary tone, he could have heard her; the stillness of the night was +unusual. There was no breeze, no rustle of the leaves overhead; no one +was moving, apparently, at either house--no one passing along the road. +Her heart beat so violently she put both hands over it to smother the +sound. Why should she not speak? It was her last chance, her very last. +If the night had not been so dark, she might have spoken. If the stars +had been shining, or moonlight had made it possible for them to see each +other, if the hour had been earlier, if there had been any issue but +one, from the speaking--if, in fact, it were not what it was, to speak, +she might have spoken. + +The minutes passed--how long, and yet how swift, they were in passing. +She had made no decision in her own mind what to do; she meant to speak, +and yet something in her held her back from speaking. There are some +things we do without thought, they do themselves without any help from +us, and so this thing was done, and a great moment in two lives was +lost--or gained perhaps, who knows? She stood spell-bound as she saw the +tiny spark of light waver, then, tossed away, drop down and go out in +the damp grass. Then she heard him turn and go slowly towards the +house--always slowly, she could have spoken a hundred times before he +reached the piazza steps. Then he took a turn or two up and down the +piazza, and then, opening the front door, went in, shutting it behind +him. + +It was not till that door shut, that Missy realized what had come to +pass in her life, and what she had done, or left undone. A great +blankness and dreariness settled down upon her with an instant pall. She +did not blame herself--she could not have spoken, no woman of her make +could have spoken. She did not blame herself, but she blamed her fate, +that put her where she stood, that made her as she was. An angry +rebellion slowly awoke within her. It is safer to blame yourself than to +blame fate. Poor Missy took the unsafest way, and went into the house, +hardening her heart, and resisting the destiny that lay before her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +SHUT AND BARRED. + + +The destiny that lay before her was a little harder than even she knew, +when she went into the hall that night, throwing off the damp cloak that +she had worn, and mechanically walking to the fire in the library to +warm herself, after her half-hour in the chilly night air. She thought +she knew how dull and hateful her life was to be, how lonely, how +uneventful. She was still young--twenty-nine is young when you are +twenty-nine, not, of course, when you are seventeen. She had just found +out what it is, to have life full and intense in emotion and interest, +and now she was turned back into the old path that had seemed good +enough before, when she did not know any better one. But still, with +resolute courage, she said to herself, her mother, and duty, and study, +and health, and money, might do something for her yet, and, after a year +or two of bitterness, restore her to content and usefulness. + +These things she said to herself, not on that first night of pain, but +the next day, when she walked past the shut-up house, and wondered, +under the cold gray sky, at the strength of the emotion that had filled +her as she had watched, through the darkness, the glimmer of the cigar +spark by the gate. Thank heaven, she hadn't spoken! She knew just as +well now what she had lost, as then, but daylight, and east wind, level +values inevitably. It was all worth less--living and dying, love and +loneliness. She could bear what she had chosen, she hadn't any doubt. + +How gloomy the day was! Raw and chill, and yet not cold enough to brace +the nerves. The gate stood ajar. Missy pushed through it, and walked +down the path. Some straw littered the piazza steps; an empty paper box +lay on the grass. The windows were all closed. Only the dog, still +chained to his kennel, howled her a dismal welcome. He was to go, +probably, to some new home that day. Well, Missy thought bitterly, he +will at least have novelty to divert him. + +She didn't go on the piazza; she remembered, with a sense of shame, the +last time she had crossed that threshold, saying it should be the last +time. What a tempest of jealousy and anger had been in her heart! Oh, +the folly of it (not to say the sin of it). How she had been conquered +by those two women (not to say the enemy of souls). She could see it all +so clearly now. Every word and look and gesture of Mr. Andrews took a +different meaning, now she was in her senses. That dinner had been his +last hope, his last attempt to conciliate her. She had repulsed him more +sharply than ever that night, stung as she was by the insults of her two +rivals. After that, he had made his plans to go away and end the matter. +Miss Flora might thank her for "dear Europe," this time. + +But poor little Jay, what had he to thank her for? Ah! that gave her +heart a pinch to think of. Poor little Jay might set down as the sum of +his gratitude to her, a miserable youth, a mercenary rule at home, +deceit and worldliness, low aims, and selfishness, that would drive him +shelterless into the world to find his pleasure there. For Missy never +doubted that Flora would gain her end. She knew Mr. Andrews was not +clever enough to stand out very long. "He's just the sort of man," she +said to herself, "to be married by somebody who is persistent. He +doesn't know women well enough to stand out against them. He will give +in for the children's sake, he won't care for his own. And he will spend +a life of homeless wretchedness, silent and stolid, protecting the woman +who is cheating him, laboring for the children who will disappoint him. +Ah! my little Jay, forgive me," she cried, stooping and picking up a +broken whip of his that lay in the grass beside the path. + +Everybody makes mistakes, but it isn't often given to any one to make +such a wholesale one as this. We must be charitable to Missy if she was +bitter and gloomy that dark morning. She wandered about the paths for a +little while longer, then, picking a few artemesias that grew close up +by the house, she turned to go away. At the gate she met a boy with a +yellow envelope in his hand. He was just going to her house, he +explained, presenting the envelope. It was a telegram, and Missy opened +it hastily. + +"It is all right," she said, giving him the money, and putting the paper +in her pocket. We are apt to be very selfish when we are miserable, and +Missy's first thought on reading the message was a selfish one. The +message was from her brother. He had just landed, and would be at home +that evening. She did not think of the joy it would be to her mother, of +the joy it might have been to her; she only thought, "Thank Heaven, this +will give me something else to think of for a little while." She was +quite bent upon curing herself, even at this early date; but with the +supreme selfishness of great disappointment, she thought of nothing but +as it influenced her trouble. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +AMICE ASCENDE SUPERIUS. + + +St. John's coming did not prove much help to her. It separated her from +her mother, and gave her a more lonely feeling even than before. She was +further off than ever from sympathy with them. She was smarting over the +loss of what they were giving up. Their lives looked heavenward, hers, +she did not disguise it from herself, looked, earthward, and earthward +only. Their exalted faith had upon her simply the effect of depressing +her own. She had a supreme estimate of common sense. She quite made it +her rule of life just now. Whatever was opposed to it, she was ready to +condemn; and, it must be admitted, there was a good deal in the lives of +St. John and his mother that did not bear its stamp. Tried by its +standard alone, in fact, it would have been difficult to find two people +who were wasting their time more utterly. This Missy was not backward in +saying to herself, and in suggesting to them, as far as she dared. That +was not very far, for there was something about St. John that prevented +people from taking liberties with him. His reality, sincerity, and +simplicity of aim commanded the respect that his humility never claimed. +No one felt it possible to remonstrate with him, however much inclined +to blame. Dignity would have been his last aspiration, rather his +abhorrence; but his self-less-ness answered pretty much the same +purpose. The thing we are most apt to resent in others is personal claim +to--anything. When a man claims nothing, and has given himself away, we +can't quarrel with him, however poor a bargain we may consider he has +made. Neither was it possible to pity St. John, or to feel contempt for +him. The natural force of his character forbade that, and (those who +sympathized with him would say) the grandeur of his purpose. + +So it was that his aunt fretted and scolded about him to his mother, and +made her life a burden to her, but in his presence was quite silent +about the matter of his vocation, and much more agreeable and well +behaved than in anybody else's presence. And Mrs. Hazard Smatter was +quite unable to ask him questions or to gain information from him. Very +soon after his arrival, oppressed no doubt by the mediæval murkiness of +the atmosphere, and the unfamiliarity of the situation, she quietly +gathered up her notes and queries and prepared to wing her way to more +speculative regions and a freer air. Even Goneril's tongue was tame when +he was by, though she beat and brushed and shook his black habit as if +it were the Pope, and harangued about the Inquisition to her +fellow-servants by the hour together. + +This same black habit was a great snare to Missy. She always spoke of it +to her mother as "his costume," as if it had come from Worth's; and it +was a good many days before she could be resigned to his walking +through the village. She even importuned her mother to beg him to give +it up during his visit home. + +"In the name of common sense, mamma," she exclaimed, "why need he +disedify these country people, over whom he has some influence, by this +puerile affectation? What virtue is there in that extra yard or two of +cloth? He could save souls in a pea-jacket, I should think, if he were +in earnest in the matter." + +It was rather hard on Mrs. Varian to have to bear all these criticisms. +That she had to bear them came of her natural sweetness and softness, +which led every one, beginning with Missy, to dictate to her. But there +was something even harder than this, that fell to her share of the +oblation. She had to tell Missy of something very bitter, and to +endeavor to reconcile her to it. She had prepared herself for it, in +many silent hours, but it is hard, always, to give pain, harder, to some +natures, than to bear it. + +It was one evening, when Missy came to her room for her good-night kiss, +that she chose. St. John had gone away to be gone two or three days, and +it is probable that the hour had been settled upon for a long while. But +prepared as she was, there was a tremble in her voice when she said: + +"Come and sit down by me for a little while. I have something to say to +you," that made Missy feel, with a sharp tightening across her heart, +that there was something painful coming. + +She sat down where the light of the lamp did not fall upon her and said, +with a forced calmness, as she bent forward to do something to the fire, + +"Well, mamma, what is it? If you have anything to say to me, of course +it must be nice." + +"You don't always think so, I'm afraid, my child," said her mother, with +a sigh. "I wish that I might never have anything to tell you that did +not give you pleasure." + +"Which is equivalent to telling me you have something to tell me that +will give me pain. Pray don't mind it. I ought to be used to hearing +things I don't like by this time, don't you think I ought?" + +"Most of us have to hear things that are painful, more or less often in +our lives--and change is almost always painful to natures like yours, +Missy." + +"Oh, as to that, sometimes I have felt, lately, that change would be +more acceptable than anything. So don't be afraid. Perhaps you will find +it will be good news, after all." + +"I earnestly wish so. Of this I am confident, one day you will feel it +was what was best, whether it gave you pain or not at first." + +"Proceed, mamma, proceed! If there is anything that rasps my nerves it +is to see the knife gleaming about in the folds of your dress, while I +see you are trying to hide it, and I am doubtful which part of me is +doomed to the stroke. Anything but suspense. What is it, who is it this +time? We don't slay the slain, so it can't be St. John. You are not +going to ask me to mourn him again?" + +"No, Missy, and I am not going to ask you to mourn at all." + +"Oh, excuse me. But you know I will mourn, being so blinded and carnal. +Mamma, let me have it in plain English. What sacrifice am I to be called +upon to make now? Is it you, or my home, or what?" + +"Both, my child, if you will put it so--I cannot make it easy." + +Missy started to her feet, and stood very pale beside her mother's sofa. + +"You have shown so little sympathy with St. John's plans, that I have +been unable to ask you to share in their discussion, as day after day +they have matured. You know the house belongs to him, he has given up +all--you can see what it involves." + +"I see, and his mother is to be turned out of house and home, to satisfy +his ultra piety." + +"Missy, let me speak quickly, and have done. I cannot bear this any +better than you. It is impossible for me to give myself up as St. John +has given himself. I have no longer youth and health to offer. But there +is one thing I can do, and that is not to stand in his way--and another. +Hear me patiently, Missy; I know it will be pain to you; I am going to +identify myself with his work in a certain way." + +"You! What am I hearing? Are you going to India, to Africa?--I am +prepared for anything." + +"No, Missy. Your brother's India is very near at hand. His order are +establishing a house in one of the worst parts of the city. Next to the +church which they have bought--" + +"With his money," interpolated Missy. + +"With his money, if you choose; next to the church which they have +bought--there is a house which I am going to buy. It may be the starting +point for the work of a sisterhood, it may be a refuge, a shelter for +whoever needs refuge or shelter. It is given--its uses will be shown if +God accepts it." + +"And you?" said Missy, in a smothered voice, standing still and +white-faced before her. + +"And I--am going to live there, Missy, and do the work that God appoints +me, or bear the inaction that He deems to be my part. It is a poor +offering and no sacrifice, for it is the life I crave. Only as to the +suffering I lay on you, I shrink from. God knows, if you could only +sympathise with me and go too--what a weight would be lifted off my +heart;--but I feel I cannot hope for that. It is always open to you, and +I shall always pray that it may come to pass, and we shall not really be +separated so very much. I shall not, perhaps, be bound by any rule, and +if my health suffers or if you need me ever, I shall always be free to +come to you--" + +"Let me understand," said Missy, in an unnatural voice, sitting down +upon the nearest chair. "You go too fast for me. Where am I to be, when +you are to feel free to come to me? This house is no longer to be our +home, you say. What is to be my home? What plans, if any, have you made +for me? Don't go any further, please, till I comprehend the situation of +things a little better. This staggers me, and I--don't know exactly what +it all means." + +She put her hands before her face for a moment, but then quickly +withdrew them and folding them in her lap, sat silent till her mother +spoke. + +"The house was inevitable, of course I always knew that--and St. John is +now of age. I do not know whether you had thought of it, I supposed you +had." + +"It never had occurred to me. I had forgotten that the house was left to +him." + +"And our united income, Missy, yours and mine, would have been +seriously crippled if we had attempted to buy it from him, and to keep +it up. This is an expensive place, and it would make you unhappy to see +it less well kept than formerly. Even if--if I had not resolved upon +this step for myself, it would scarcely have been possible to have +remained here, at least, as we have been. This has been a great care and +anxiety to me for many months. It would have been a great relief to me +to have spoken to you, but your want of sympathy in St. John's work, +made it impossible for me to talk to you about it. It has seemed so to +St. John and me--we have given it much anxious thought--that the income +from your father's property which I have settled all on you, is ample +for your maintenance any where you choose to live. But--to me it has +seemed a good plan, that you should take the old Roncevalle house across +the way, with Aunt Harriet, and live there. It is vacant now you know, +it is comfortable, the rent is low--" + +Missy's eyes gave forth a sudden glow of light; she started to her feet, +but then sank back upon her chair again. + +"Mamma, that is too much--that is more than I can stand. The home is to +be broken up--my whole life is to be laid waste. I am no longer set in a +family--I am adrift--I am motherless and homeless--but that is not what +I complain of. I only ask, why am I to take up the unpleasantest duty of +your life? Why am I to be burdened with a blind, infirm and hateful +woman who is in no way related to me by ties of blood or of affection? A +beautiful home you have mapped out for me! An enchanting future! It +seems to me you must think better of me than I have ever been led to +believe you did, if you think me capable of such self-sacrifice." + +"It is for you to take it up or lay it down as suits you, Missy. If +Harriet will come with me, you know she will have a home and all the +care that I can give her. But you can see that it is of no use to make +such a proposition now. When she is older and more broken, she may be +glad of the refuge we can give her, but now it would be in vain to think +of it. And you, oh my child, do not be unkind when you think of what I +have done. Reflect that I have given you my life, for all these many +years. All that I have had has been yours, all that I have would still +be yours, if you would share it in the consecrated retirement to which I +now feel called. It would be the dearest wish of my heart fulfilled, if +I could have you with me there. There would be scope for your energy, +for all your talents, in the work that lies before us. But, I know I +must not dream of this till you see things differently." + +"No," said Missy, in a cold, hard tone. "You have one child, with whom +your sympathy is perfect. He must suffice. Live for him now; I have had +my share, no doubt." + +"Missy! do not break my heart; I am not going to live for St. John. I am +not going away from you for any human companionship. How can I talk to +you? How explain what I feel, when you will not, cannot understand?" + +"No, I cannot understand," cried Missy, with a sudden burst of tears. +"Oh mother, mother, how can you go away from me? How can you leave me in +this frightful loneliness? I am not to you what you are to me or you +would never do it." + +"Missy, you could have done it. I have not read your face in vain for +these last few weeks. You could have done it, and you would. I cannot +make a comparison between the affection that would have satisfied you to +leave me--and the--the feeling of my heart that draws me out of the +world into stillness, retreat, consecration. I cannot explain, cannot +talk of it. If you do not understand, you cannot. It is no sacrifice, +except the being separated from you--that will be the pain hidden in my +joy, as it would have been the pain hidden in your joy if you had +married. The pain would not have killed the joy, nor made you give it +up. This is not the enthusiasm of a moment, Missy. It is what has come +of long, long years of silence and of thought. A way has opened, beyond +my hopes--possibilities of acceptance--of advance. There is a great work +to be done: I must not hold it back from humility, from timidity. It +seems so unspeakable a bliss that I--stranded--useless--wrecked--should +be made a part of anything given to the glory of God. I daily fear it +may be presumption to dream of such a thing, and that I shall be rebuked +and checked. But even if I am, my offering is made--all--for Him to take +or leave. All! ah, poor and miserable all, 'the dregs of a polluted +life!' Would that from the first moment that I drew my breath my soul +had reached up to Him with its every affection--with its every +aspiration! Oh 'that I might love Him as well as ever any creature loved +Him!' That patience and penitence might win Him to forget the wasted +past, and restore the blighted years that are gone from me!" + +She hid her face in her hands, and Missy, sinking down on the floor +beside her, cried out, with tears: + +"Why cannot you serve Him and love Him here as you have always done, all +your good and holy life! Why can't you worship Him in the old way, and +be satisfied with doing your duty in your own home, and staying with +those who need you, and whom He has given you to love and care for! Oh, +mamma, this is some great and terrible mistake. Think before it is too +late!" + +"Listen, Missy," she said, after a few moments; her brief emotion +passed. "Listen, and these are words of truth and soberness. I am +useless here. There is a possibility _there_ I might be of some humble +service. You are more capable of managing and directing in every day +matters than I ever was. You are no longer a young girl. I leave you +with conventional propriety, for your Aunt Harriet is all that is +requisite before the world. If you make it a question of family duty, +St. John is many years younger than you, and may need me more. The home +here is expensive, luxurious. The money is wanted for the saving of the +souls and bodies of Christ's poor. To me there seems no question. I wish +there might not be to you. If it were a matter of the cloister, I might +waver, it is possible. I am not permitted to go that length in my +oblation. I am now only separating myself from you by the length of time +that you choose to stay away from me. In a house such as this is +designed to be, you could always have your place, your share of work and +interest. We shall win you to it, dear child; when you see what it is, +your prejudice will wear away." + +"Prejudice!" cried Missy, passionately. "What is not prejudice? Yours +and St. John's have cost me dear. Oh, mamma, how could you have had such +an alien child? Why must we see everything in such a different light? +You and St. John are always of one mind. I am shut out from you by such +a wall. I am so lonely, so wretched, and perhaps you can't understand +enough to pity me. Oh, mamma, you are all I have in the world! Don't go +away and leave me! Don't break up this home, which must be dear to you; +don't turn away from what your heart says always. It can't be wrong to +love your home, it can't be wrong to be sorry for your child. Oh, what +misery is come upon me! Mamma, mamma, you will kill me if you go away! +You must not, cannot, shall not go!" + +From such scenes as this, it is better, perhaps, to turn away. When men +are not of one mind in a house, how sore the strife it brings--how long +and bitter the struggle when love is wrestling with love, but when self +is mixed up in the war. It was a longer and crueller struggle than she +had foreseen. Missy could see no light in the future, and grew no nearer +being reconciled. Day after day passed, scene after scene of +wretchedness, alternate pleading and reproaching, reasoning and +rebellion. From St. John, Missy could not bear a word. She refused to +treat with him, but threw herself upon her mother. Those were dark and +troubled days. St. John looked a little paler than usual; the mother was +worn and tortured, but gave no sign of relenting. A gentle, pliant +nature seems sometimes more firm for such an assault as this. At last, +all discussion of it was given up; Missy, hardening herself, went about +the house cold-eyed, imperious, impatient. St. John was absent much of +the time--Miss Varian had not yet been informed what was in store for +her; all tacitly put off that very evil day. + +Meanwhile the preparations for the change went quietly on. The old +Roncevalle house was one that belonged to the Varians; having been +bought by Mr. Varian in those lordly days, when laying field to field, +and house to house, seems the natural outlet of egotism and youth. Felix +Varian, young and used to success, had the aspirations of most young and +wealthy men. He proposed in the first flush of satisfaction in his home, +to make it a fine estate, worthy of his name and of the yellow-haired +baby, who had now grown up to wear a black habit and a girdle round his +waist. He bought right and left, and made some rather unprofitable +purchases. His early death left matters somewhat involved, but yet, when +all was settled up, the Varians were still a wealthy family, and the +young heir had a good deal to take with him to his work in that dirty +down-town street, of which Missy thought with such loathing and +contempt, and he with such fervor of hope. Missy's father had had a +comfortable little property, which had been thriftily managed, and this +was now to be hers exclusively. It was by no means a princely +settlement, but it was quite as much as an unmarried woman needed to +live comfortably upon, and she felt that her mother had done quite right +in not offering her a cent of the Varian money, which she never would +have touched. She had hated her stepfather fervently as a child; now she +felt strangely drawn to him, and as if they had a common injury. How he +would have scorned this infatuation, and resented this appropriation of +his gorgeous and luxurious gold. + +The Roncevalle house had always been kept in order, and rented +furnished. It was a comfortable looking house, standing close to the +street, with a broad piazza, and having a pretty view of the bay. It was +very well--but oh! as a home, coming after the one she had grown up in! +Poor Missy loathed it. She had made it part of her capable management of +things to keep this house furnished from the overflow of their own. It +was a family joke that this was the hospital for disabled and repaired +furniture, the retreat to which things out of style and undesirable were +committed. If a new carpet were coveted at home, it was so good an +excuse to say the Roncevalle carpets needed renovating, and it was best +to put the new ones on the floors at home. When Missy's dainty taste +tired of a lamp or a piece of china, it was ordered over to the +Roncevalle. It may be imagined with what feelings she contemplated +living over those discarded carpets, eating her dinner off that +condemned china, being mistress of that third-rate house. + +But to do her justice, this formed a very small part of her trial. She +was of a nature averse to change, firm in its attachments. To give up +her home would have been heart-breaking, even though she should still +have had the companionship of her mother. But when that was broken, and +the whole face of her life changed, it seemed to her, indeed, a bitter +fate. She could see no righteousness in it, no excuse, no palliation. +She felt sure that it was but the beginning of the end, and that her +mother could but a short time survive the fanatical sacrifice she had +made. She imagined her in the reeking, filthy streets of midsummer, +surrounded by detestable noises and sights, without the comforts to +which she was accustomed. + +"Nothing prevents my coming to you, if I am ill," said her mother. "And, +Missy, if I can live through _this_, I can endure anything, I think." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE BROOK IN THE WAY. + + +It was, indeed, the hardest part, that first step, to all, but it was +accomplished, somehow. The early spring found Mrs. Varian in her new +home, St. John established in his work, Missy and Miss Varian settled in +the Roncevalle house, and the dear home shut up. It was in the market, +to be sold if any one would buy, to be rented if nobody would. They had +gone out of it, taking little, and it was in perfect order. + +About this time Missy broke down, and had the first illness of her life. +St. John came up to her, and brought one of the newly-imported Sisters +to nurse her. She would have rebelled against this, if she had been in +condition to rebel. She was not, however, and could only submit. + +What is the use of going through her illness? We have most of us been +ill, and know the dark rooms we are led through, and the hopelessness, +and helplessness, and weariness; the foreign land we seem to be in, +with well people stealing on tip-toe out of our sight to eat their +comfortable dinners, with kind attendants reading the morning paper +behind the window curtains, with faithful affection smothering yawns +through our tossing, sleepless nights. Yes, everybody is well and we are +sick. Everybody is in life, and we are in some strange, half-way place, +that is not life nor death. We may be so near eternity, and yet we +cannot think of it; so wretched, so wretched, the fretted body cannot +turn its thoughts away from itself. We are alone as far as earth goes, +and alone, as far as any nearness to Heaven feels. What is the good of +it all? What have we gained (if we ever get back) by this journey into a +strange land, that didn't seem to be joyous but grievous? Well, a great +many things, perhaps, but one thing almost certainly: Detachment. It is +scarcely possible to love life and see good days with the same zest +after this sorrowful journey. It abates one's relish for enjoyment, it +tempers one's thirst for present pleasures; it loosens one's hold upon +things mundane. That is the certain good it does, and the uncertain, how +infinite! + +Poor Missy felt like a penitent child, after that illness of hers. She +did not feel any better, nor any surer that she should be any stronger +or wiser; but she felt the certainty that she had put a very wrong value +upon things, and that life was a very different matter from what she had +been considering it. She felt so ashamed of her self-will, so humbled +about her own judgment. She still did not like long black dresses on men +or women, but she felt very much obliged to St. John and the good Sister +for all the weeks they had spent in taking care of her. And although +stained glass windows, and swinging lamps, and church embroidery did +not appeal to her in the least; she began to understand how they might +appeal to people of a different temperament. Let it not be imagined that +Missy came out of this a lamb of meekness. On the contrary, she was very +exacting about her broth, and once cried because the nurse would not +keep Miss Varian out of the room. But then she was more sorry for it +than she had been in the habit of being, and made Miss Varian a handsome +apology the first time she was well enough to see her. + +She looked out of the window, across the road, upon the trees just +budding into loveliness on the lawn of her dearest home, and wondered +that she should have thought it mattered so very much whether she lived +in this house or in that, considering it was not going to be forever, +either here or there. + +St. John came and sat down by her one afternoon, as she lay in a great +easy chair, looking out at the spring verdure and the soft declining +sunshine. She had never got to talking of very deep things to St. John, +since her unhappy controversy with him, but she felt so sure that he +would not talk of anything that she objected to, that she was at her +ease with him. They talked about the great tulip tree on the lawn, that +they could just see from the window, and the aspens by the gate, just +large-leaved enough to shiver in the softly-moving breeze. Then Missy +forced herself to ask if a tenant had been found for the house, and he +answered her, yes, and also, that he had heard that the Andrews' place +was rented too. + +"I'm sorry," he said, "that Mr. Andrews has gone away from here. I felt +as if it were the sort of place he might have been happy in, and much +respected. Did you ever get to know him well? I remember that you took a +fancy to the children." + +"I saw a good deal of them last summer," said Missy, wearily. How far +off last summer seemed! + +"What a terrible life!" said St. John, musingly. "Not one man in a +thousand could have borne what he did; it was almost heroic, and yet I +think my first impression was that he was common-place." + +"I don't understand," said Missy, "tell me." + +"It isn't possible you don't know about his wife?" + +So St. John told her something that she certainly hadn't known before +about his wife. St. John had learned it from others; the story had been +pretty well known in an English town where he had been the year before, +and had come to him in ways that put it beyond any doubt. Mr. Andrews +had married a young woman, of French extraction, of whom nobody seemed +to know anything, but that she was distractingly pretty. After three or +four years she had proved to be the very worst woman that could be +imagined. She had a lover, who was the father of Gabrielle; she had +married just in time to conceal her shame from the world and from her +husband. They went to Europe after the little girl's birth, and in about +two years Jay was born. When he was a few months old, the suspicions of +the husband were aroused by some accidental circumstance. The lover had +followed them, and had renewed his correspondence with her. Some violent +scenes occurred. She professed penitence and promised amendment. Her +next move was a bungling conspiracy with her lover to poison her +husband. A horrid exposé of the whole thing threatened. It was with +difficulty suppressed, the man fled, leaving her to bear all. In her +rage and despair she took poison, and barely escaped dying. It was +managed that the thing never came to trial. Mr. Andrews, out of pity for +the miserable creature, whose health was permanently destroyed by her +mad act, resolved not to abandon her to destruction. His love for his +little son, and his compassion for the poor little bastard girl, induced +him still to shelter her, and to keep up the fiction of a home for their +sakes. + +"I don't think," said St. John, "one could fancy a finer action. +Protecting the woman who had attempted his life, adopting the child who +had been palmed off upon him, establishing a home which must have been +full of bitterness all the time. There are not many men who could have +done this. It seems to me utter self-renunciation. Doesn't it seem so to +you?" + +"How long have you known this?" cried Missy, bursting into tears. "Oh! +St. John, if you had only told me! You might have saved me from +being--so unjust." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +SANCTUARY. + + +A few weeks later, when St. John had come up again to see after her, +Missy asked him to take her to her mother, and so, in the summer, when +the country was at its loveliest, and the city at its worst, he came for +her, and took her, still too weak to travel alone, to the new house of +religion in the old haunts of sin. It was not a favorable season +certainly, but the weather fortunately was rather cool for July, and +Missy's longing to see her mother was so great, her distaste for city +streets was overshadowed. + +The church which the Order had bought was not a model of architecture, +but it was large and capable of receiving improvement. The house +adjoining it, which was to be the nucleus of a Sisters' house, was roomy +and shabby. It had rather had pretensions to elegance in days very long +past, but it had gone through varied and not improving experiences, and +was a pretty forlorn place when St. John took it in hand. It seemed to +him so renovated and advanced, in comparison, that he could not +understand his sister's slight shudder and look of repugnance as they +entered the bare hall. Of course there were no carpets, as became a +Sisters' house, and the rooms that Missy saw as she passed them were +very plain indeed as to furniture, and very uncheerful as to outlook. +Naturally, you cannot have a house in the midst of the lowest population +of a large city, whose windows would have a pleasing or cheerful +outlook. + +But when Missy came to her mother's room, it was different to her from +the others, and not repugnant. It was a large room, of course plainly +furnished; but the color of the walls, the few ornaments, the +bookshelves, all proclaimed that St. John had not been as severe in +arranging his mother's room, as in the treatment of his own. This house +"joined hard to the synagogue," and a door had been cut through on this +second story, and a little gallery built, and there, at all the hours, +Mrs. Varian could go. It was never necessary for her to leave her room. +What a center that room became of helpful sympathy, of tender counsel, +of rest for tired workers! What a sanctuary of peaceful contemplation, +of satisfied longing, of exalted faith! It was the dream of her life +fulfilled; the prayer alike of her innocence and penitence answered. + +From the little gallery that overhung the church, she heard her son's +voice in the grey dawn, as he celebrated the earliest Eucharist, and +from that hour, perhaps, she did not hear it again till, at eight +o'clock in the evening, he came to her room for a half-hour's +refreshment after the hard work of his day. The clergy house was on the +other side of the church, about half a block away. It was as yet a very +miserable affair, only advanced by an application of soap and water from +its recent office of mechanics' boarding-house. But St. John seemed to +think that half-hour in his mother's peaceful room made up for all. It +was very self-indulgent, but he always took a cup of tea from her hands, +which she made him out of a little silver tea-pot that she had used +since he was a baby a week old. And the cup out of which he drank it, +was of Sêvres china, a part of the cadeau brought to the pretty young +mother's bedside in that happy week of solicitude. This little service +was almost the only souvenir they had brought of the past life now laid +away by both of them, but it was very sacred and very sweet, and +probably not very sinful. It was a fact, however, that St. John +reproached himself sometimes for the eagerness with which he looked +forward to this little _soulagement_, during the toils of the day. If he +had not felt that it was perhaps as dear and necessary to his mother, I +am afraid he would have given it up. + +Missy saw all this, and much more, of their life, and wondered, as she +lay on the lounge that had been brought for her into her mother's room. +She saw and wondered, at the interested happy lives of the women in long +black dresses, who came and went, in their gliding, silent way, in and +out of her mother's room. She could not help seeing, that in the +offices, to which the inevitable bell was always calling them, there was +no monotony, not so much weariness as in the one-day-in-seven service in +a country parish. Their poor, their housekeeping, the interests of their +order, seemed to supply all beside that they needed. There was no +denying it, their faces were satisfied and happy--except one sister who +had dyspepsia, and nobody can look entirely satisfied and happy who has +dyspepsia, in the world, or out of it. + +As to her mother, there was no visible failure in health, but a most +visible increase of mental power and energy, and the inexpressible look +that comes from doing work your heart is in, from walking in the path +for which your feet were formed. Patient doing of duty against the grain +may be better than not doing duty at all, but it always writes a weary +mark across the face. That mark which her mother's face had borne, ever +since Missy could remember it, was gone. + +Weary no doubt she often was, for her hand and brain were rarely idle +now; but it was the healthy weariness that brings the sleep of the just, +and wipes out toil with rest. Neither did Missy understand--how could +she?--the bliss of those hours spent in the little gallery that +overlooked the empty and silent church. She could have understood the +thrill that it might have given her, to see the crowd that sometimes +filled the church, hanging upon the words of the preacher, if that +preacher had been her son. But, alas for Missy! St. John did only humble +out-of-sight work. He rarely preached, and then only to supply some +one's place, who had been called away or hindered by illness. There were +two or three priests, older than he, who did the work that appeared to +the world, and who were above him in everything, and who were praised, +and who had influence. What was St. John, who had given all his money, +and all his time, and all his heart, to this work? The lowest one of +all, of less authority or influence or consideration than any. Well, if +he was satisfied, no one need complain, and he evidently was. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +VESPERS. + + +Late one afternoon, during this visit of hers, Missy stole into the +little gallery by herself, and closed the door. The plaintive and +persistent bell had shaken out its summons in the house. Her mother +slept through it, overcome by the heat and by some unusual exertion in +the morning. Missy did not consider herself bound to assist at all the +offices, but she rather liked it, and crept in very often when no one +was noticing, and when she happened to feel well enough. A few poor +people came in this afternoon, and two or three Sisters. St. John said +the prayers. When the prayers were over, and he had gone into the +sacristy, Missy still lingered, leaning her head on the rail, and gazing +down into the church. St. John came out, after a moment, and the poor +people came up, two or three of them, and preferred petitions for +pecuniary or spiritual aid, principally pecuniary. + +After their audiences were ended, they shambled away; the Sisters had +disappeared, and the church was empty but for one figure, standing near +the door. St. John gave an inquiring look, and made a step forward. The +lady, for it was a lady, seemed to hesitate, and her attitude and +movements betrayed great agitation. Some late rays of the afternoon sun +came piercing down through a high-up, colored window. Missy looked down +with keen interest upon the two; it was another scene in her brother's +life. + +"You are too young for the care of penitents like that, my dear St. +John," she said to herself, sententiously. For the lady was pretty, more +than pretty, and young and graceful. + +She came forward rapidly, her resolution once made, and stood before St. +John, half way down the aisle. He did not look very young, thanks to its +being "always fast and vigil, always watch and prayer," with him; his +peculiar dress made him seem taller than he really was, almost gaunt. +His face had a sobered, worn look, but an expression of great sweetness. +He carried his head a little forward, and his eyes, which were almost +always on the ground, he raised with a sort of gentle inquiry, an +appealing, wondering interest, to the face before him. Because, to St. +John, people were "souls," and he was always thinking of their eternal +state. As to a lawyer, those he meets are possible clients, and to a +doctor, patients, so to this other professional mind all were included +in his hopes of penitence or progress. He raised his eyes to the +new-comer's face, and Missy saw the start he gave, and the great change +that took place in his expression. It was as if he were, for a moment, +sharply assaulted with some strong pain. He put out his hand, and laid +hold of the wooden railing of a prayer desk near him, as if to steady +himself. + +The lady, meanwhile, had not been too agitated to notice his emotion. +She eagerly scanned his face, stretched out her hand to him timidly, +then drew it back and clasped it in the other, and said something +pleadingly to him, looking up to him with tears. Seeing she did not make +him look at her again, and that he was rapidly gaining self-control, she +flushed, drew back, with a manner almost angry. But in a moment, some +humiliating recollection seemed to sweep over her mind and blot out her +involuntary pride. Her face darkened, and her mouth quivered as she +said, quite loud enough for Missy, in her loft, to hear: + +"The only right I have to come to you, is that the wretched man whom you +have befriended, and whom you are preparing for the gallows, is the +man--to whom I am married." + +St. John started again, and said--? The name Missy did not catch. The +stranger assented, and went on speaking bitterly, and with a voice +broken by agitation. "He tells me he has confessed to you. I do not +believe it--I do not believe he would tell the truth, even upon the +gallows. His perfidy to my poor sister, ruining her, breaking her heart, +destroying her chance of being happy in a good marriage--to me enticing +me away from you--and then dragging me through shame and suffering that +I cannot even bear to think of--his low vices--his heartless frauds--has +he told you all these?--You used to be young. I should think you would +soon be old enough if you have to hear many such stories. I should think +you would be tired of living in a world that had such things done in +it." + +St. John did not answer. His eyes never now left the ground. + +"I am tired of it," she cried, with tears. "I am tired and sick of life. +I want to die, and only I don't dare. Sometimes I come here to the +church and the music and the preaching seem to make me ashamed of my +wicked thoughts; but it doesn't stay, and I go back to all my miseries +and I am no better. I don't know what has kept me from the worst kind of +a life. I don't know what keeps me from the worst kind of a death. I +have sometimes wondered if it wasn't that you pray for me--among your +enemies, I suppose, if you do." + +There was a pause, and then she went on: "Last Sunday night I heard you +preach; I had only heard your voice reading the prayers before that. +Ever since, I have wanted to speak to you to ask you about something +that you said." + +Then St. John lifted his head and said, in a voice that was notably +calm, "I hope you will come here often, and, if you will let me, I will +ask Father Ellis to talk with you and to give you counsel. He has had +great experience, and he will help you." + +Missy listened breathless for the words that came at last, after a +succession of emotions had passed over her face. "You have not forgiven +me!" she said. "Is that being good and holy, as you teach? You will not +talk to me and help me yourself, but send me to some one I don't know +and who won't understand. Why won't you forgive me? Heaven knows I have +been sorry enough and repented enough!" + +A lovely smile passed over St. John's face, one would almost have said +there was a shade of amusement in it, but it was all gone in a moment, +and the habitual seriousness returned. + +"I had never thought of any question of forgiveness," he said. "Be +assured of it in any case." + +"Then why," she hurried on, keenly searching his face, "why will you not +let me speak to you? Why will you not teach me, and help me, as you say +Father Ellis would do?" + +"Because it is not my part of the work. He has more experience." + +"But you teach Armand. You spend hours in the prison. You have the +direction of souls there." + +"That is a different work," he said, simply. + +"Then," she exclaimed, passionately, "since you refuse me I will go +away. I have been hoping all this time for help from you. If you won't +give it, God knows, that is the end. I will not speak to strangers and +lay open my miserable past. I shall not listen to my conscience any +more. I will get out of my wretchedness any way I can. I might have +known that churches and priests would not do me any good." + +"I should be sorry," he said, calmly, "to think you had come to such a +resolution. No one person is likely to do you more good than another. If +the intention of your heart is right, God can help you through one +person as well as through another." + +"You distrust me," she said. "I suppose I ought not to wonder at it, but +I did not think men as good as you could be so hard. Why do you doubt +that the intention of my heart is right?" + +"I have not said that I doubted it. I have only thought that if it were, +you would be glad to accept any means laid before you, of getting the +assistance that you feel you need." + +The girl, for she looked only that, buried her face in her hands, and a +faint sob echoed through the empty church. "It would be so much easier +to speak to you; it's so hard," she murmured, "to tell a stranger all +you've done wrong, and all the miserable things that have happened to +you." + +"You don't have to tell him all that has happened to you," he said. "You +have only to tell him of your sins. Let me add, that the priest to whom +I advise you to go, has great sympathy with suffering, and is very +gentle." + +Missy hardly breathed, such was her interest in the scene before her. +She took in all the complication, the shock that seeing the woman for +whom he had had such strong feeling, had given St. John, the sorrow of +finding her bound to the miserable criminal, whose last hours he was +trying to purify, the fear of repulsing her, and the danger of +ministering to her. At first she had been overwhelmed with alarm for +him, the grace and beauty of the young creature was so unusual, her +desire to re-establish relations of intimacy so unmistakable. But +something, she did not know what, reassured her. Perhaps it was the +faint gleam of a smile on his face, when she asked him to forgive her; +as if he had said, "You ask me to forgive you for doing me the greatest +favor you could possibly have done." Perhaps it was that she felt +intuitively the inferiority of the woman's nature, that she knew St. +John had been growing away from her, leaving her behind with such +strides that she could not touch him. He was beyond danger from silken +hair or peach-bloom cheeks. If danger came to him, it would be in a +subtler form. She wondered at herself, feeling so confident; she felt +very sorry for the girl, not afraid of her. She looked back at the past, +and said to herself, "This pink-faced, long-lashed young thing has held +a great deal in her hands, but she holds it no more." Her sin and folly +turned more than one life into a new channel. St. John's, his mother's, +Missy's own, what marks they bore of her flippant treachery! She tried +to picture to herself how they would have been living, if, on that +October night, so long ago, St. John had brought her home, instead of +coming alone, with his ashy, dreadful face. If he had married her, and +come to live at Yellowcoats, perhaps, or near them. Ah! perhaps they +would all have been in the dear home. Would it have been better? Looking +at St. John, and looking at her, with the appreciation that she had of +her character from those few moments--would it have been better? No, it +would not have been better. Bitter as this change had been to her, Missy +knew in her heart it would not have been better. She knew St. John might +well smile at the idea of forgiving her, and she herself, though she did +not smile, could thank her, as she had said she thanked her, when she +stood by the mother's sleepless bed that night and heard the story. + +There are some things that we cannot find words for, even in our +thoughts. She could not tell why, but she knew as well as if she had +spelled it out of Worcester and Webster that it was better for them all +to be living this life and not the old. She would have fain not thought +so, but she was convicted. The scene passing in the aisle below her, a +year ago, would have filled her with alarm, and have given her assurance +that her predictions were to be fulfilled. Now, in these bare walls, in +this dim house, "this life of pleasure's death," she felt how powerless +were such temptations, how different the plane on which they stood. It +was all to be felt, not explained. The young creature below her, turning +with a late devotion to the man who had outgrown her, still "blindly +with her blessedness at strife," could not see or feel it. Missy could +pity her, even as she watched her alternate art and artlessness, in +trying to arouse in him some of the old feeling. It was all in vain. + +When the interview ended, and she went away, Missy watched her brother, +as he stood for a while, with his eyes fastened on the ground. Then, +with a long sigh, he walked through the church, adjusting a bench here, +picking up a prayer book there, and then went and kneeled down before +the altar. Missy felt he was not praying for himself, and for power to +resist a temptation, but for the soul of the poor undisciplined girl, +and the sinful man to whom she was bound. + +The end of the story she did not hear at once. Her visit ended about +this time, and she only learned later from her mother, that St. John had +moved Heaven and earth to get the man pardoned. During the time of +suspense, the poor girl had been in a destitute and deplorable state, +but with enough good in her to listen to the teaching of Father Ellis +and the Sisters. In their house she had found shelter; and during +several weeks, Mrs. Varian had had her constantly with her. She never +saw St. John again, except in church. The pardon was despaired of, the +sickening days that were now growing fewer and fewer, were spent by St. +John, mainly with this man, and in the cells of the prison where he lay. +The wretched criminal was a coward, and broken down and abject, at the +approach of death. His late compunction softened his wife towards him; +with one of the Sisters she came often to the prison. + +It was hailed with joy, in the still house, when word came, that at the +last hour he was pardoned, and that his wife was to meet him on board +the vessel that was to take them both to the new life, to which they had +pledged themselves. Poor Gabrielle was half reluctant, but she was +trying to be good, and was in earnest, in a childish sort of way. St. +John looked rather pale and worn after that, and came to Yellowcoats to +recruit for a day or two, or perhaps to see after Missy. His work had +lain principally among "wicked people," as he had proposed to himself in +early days. For some reason he made himself acceptable to prisoners and +outcasts. It is possible his great humility had as much to do with it, +as his sympathetic nature. At all events, he had had plenty to do, and +was quite familiar in prison cells, and at work-house deathbeds. When +this man (Armand) had come under his care, he was under sentence of +death, and was probably the wickedest of all his wicked people. He was +a foreigner, with a hideous past--how hideous, it was likely none but +St. John knew. He was condemned to suffer the penalty of the law, for a +murder committed in a bar-room fray, possibly one of the lightest of the +sins of his life. It was he who had ruined the life of poor little Jay's +mother, and plotted the death of her husband. He was a desperado, a +dramatic villain, the sort of man respectable people rarely meet, except +on the stage or in police courts. + +St. John had not suspected the identity of his penitent with the man to +whom he owed it, that he wore a girdle round his waist, till the day +that Gabrielle came into the church. Poor Gabrielle! It was hard lines +for her to be sent off with the cowardly villain, but there seemed no +other way to settle the fate of both of them, considering that they were +married to each other. A lingering pity filled St. John's heart when he +thought of her, and of the terrible fate to which she had bound herself. +All this sort of thing is exhausting to the nerves, and no one could +begrudge St. John his day and a half of rest by Yellowcoats bay. He and +his fellow-workers took very few such days. Their hands were quite full +of work, not of a sentimental kind. It takes money to send criminals and +their families away to lead new lives in new lands, and money does not +always come for the wishing. It takes time and the expenditure of +thought to prepare men for the gallows, to get their pardons for them if +may be, to smoothe their paths, whichever way they lead; it is good hard +work to do these things, and many like them, and takes the flesh off +men's bones, and wears out nerves and brains almost as effectually as +stocks and speculations But there are men who choose to work in +obscurity in a service for which the world offers them no wages--only a +very stiff contempt. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +SURRENDER. + + +Missy found herself at home in the country, very sorry to leave her +mother, very glad to breathe pure air again, very humble to think how +much she objected to bad smells and street noises. St. John and her +mother did not seem to take them into account at all, and the Sisters +she was sure enjoyed them. Her housekeeping and Aunt Harriet took up a +good deal of her time, but it was pretty dull work, and her heart was +heavy. It was something of a strain to have to see people and to answer +their curious questions; but to tell the truth, Missy was much less +ashamed of her brother and her mother since she came back, and chiefly +felt the impossibility of making anybody understand the matter. She +understood comparatively little herself, but the comfortable rector, +"with fat capon lined," the small-souled doctor, the young brood of +Olors, the strait-laced Sombreros, the evangelical Eves, how much less +could they comprehend. She knew that the keenest interest existed in the +whole community regarding their family matters, and that much +indignation was felt at the breaking up of the home. There were a great +many people who wore inclined to look upon her as a martyr to the +fanaticism of her mother and brother, and she would have been +overwhelmed with civilities if she had consented to receive them. As it +was, she considered every unusual demonstration of regard, as a +disapprobation of her mother, and resented it in her heart, and possibly +showed much coldness of manner. So she gradually isolated herself, and +became daily less a part of the Yellowcoats community. + +How odd it was to be so unimportant! Her small housekeeping required so +few dependents, contrasted with their former ways. Now that they did not +entertain, and that she was neither young nor old, and that illness had +kept her from even the ordinary duties of visiting, she had fallen +almost entirely out of sight. A very gay family had taken their house, +which was now quite a centre of amusement. The Andrews cottage had been +occupied by people whose delight it was to be considered swell. They +drove all sorts of carts, and sailed all manner of boats, and owned all +varieties of dogs. The village gazed at them, and the residents who were +entitled to be considered on a visiting equality, called on them, and +all united to gratify their ambition to be talked about. At these two +houses, poor Missy felt she would be excused from calling. Indeed, no +one seemed to notice the omission; it is so easy to sink down into +obscurity, and to become nobody. She sometimes felt as if she had died, +and had been permitted to come back and see how small a place she had +filled, and how little she was missed, to perfect her in humility. After +all, St. John and his mother--were they so very wrong? What was it all +worth? + +Miss Harriet Varian, about these days, was much easier to get along with +than in more prosperous ones. Perhaps she was touched by Missy's changed +manner and illness; perhaps the insignificance into which they had +fallen, had had for her, too, its lesson. And perhaps the spectacle of +her sister's faith, had, against her will, shocked her into a study of +her own selfish and unlovely life. She had many silent hours now, in +which she did not call for Balzac and diversion; she submitted to hear +books which she had always refused to listen to. She was less querulous +with those around her, less sharp-tongued about her neighbors. She said +nothing about St. John and his mother, only listened silently to the +news that came of them weekly to Missy. Missy and she understood each +other pretty well now; their trouble had drawn them together. In +talking, they knew what to avoid, and each considered the other's +feelings as never before. Two lonely women in one house, with the same +grief to bear, it would have been strange if they had not come together +a little, to carry the load. + +Goneril had so much more to do nowadays, she was much improved. She had +had her choice of going away, or staying to do three times the work she +had had to do in the other house. It is difficult to say why she stayed, +whether from a sort of attachment to Missy, and pity for Miss Varian, or +from a dislike of rupture and change. She had had enough of it herself +to know real trouble when she saw it, and she certainly saw it in the +two women whom she elected to serve. Her wrath had boiled over +vehemently at first. She had been anything but respectful to her +employer's form of faith. But that was completely settled, once for +all, and she now made no allusion to the matter, at least above stairs. +It is quite possible that below she may have had her fling, +occasionally, at "popish 'pression." The Sister who nursed Missy during +her illness, she had, with difficulty, brought herself to be respectful +to, but there was so much of the real nurse in the peppery Goneril, that +during long watches they had come to be almost friends. + +The summer passed slowly away; the autumn came, and with it, the flight +of the summer birds whose strange gay plumage had made her old home so +unnatural to Missy. The dog-carts and the beach-carts and the T-carts +had all been trundled away; the boat-houses were locked up, the stables +emptied; the six months' leases of the two houses were at an end, and +quiet came back to the place. + +It was in November, a sunny Indian summer day. After their early dinner, +Missy went out to roam, as she loved now to do, over the grounds and +along the beach from which for so many months she had been shut out. The +evergreens made still a greenness with their faithful foliage, the lawn +looked like summer. It was an unusual season. There was a chill in the +shut-up rooms, and it made her heart too sore to go often in the house, +but outside she could wander for hours, and feel only a gentle pang, a +soft patient sorrow for what was gone from her never to return. She had +been walking by the narrow path that led through the cedars, wondering, +now at the highness of the tide which was washing up against the bank, +now at the mildness of the air that made it almost impossible to believe +it was November, when the woman who took care of the house came running +after her. Out of breath, she told her some one had just come up by the +cars, to look at the house; would she give her the bunch of keys which +she had put in her pocket instead of giving them back to her, a few +minutes before? + +Missy felt a thrill of anger as she thought of some one to look at the +house. This was indeed her natural enemy, for this time it must be a +purchaser, for it was not yet in the market for rent. She gave the woman +the keys, and then walked on, a storm of envy and discord in her heart. +Yes, the one that should buy this house, she should hate. It was +endurable while people only had it on lease, and came and went and left +it as they found it. But when it should be bought and paid for, when +trees could be cut down and new paths cut and changes made at the will +of strangers, it would be more than she could bear. So few had come to +look at it with a view to buying, she had unconsciously got into a way +of thinking it would not be sold, and that this temporary misery of +letting would go on, and she could yet feel her hold safe upon the trees +and the shrubs and the familiar rooms and closets. Just as they were +now, perhaps, they would remain for years, and she would have the care +of them still, and grow old along with them; and some day the dark dream +of alienation would dissolve and she would come back and die in her own +room. + +She had not known how this plan and this hope had taken possession of +her, till the woman's out-of-breath story, of a stranger from the train, +revealed it to her. Some one coming up from town at this season, meant +business. Yes, the place was as good as sold: or, if this man didn't buy +it, others would be coming to look at it; some one would buy it. At any +rate her peace was gone. She had not known how insensibly she had +depended upon escaping what she had declared to herself she was prepared +for. People said they were asking more for the place than they would +ever get. Perhaps St. John had gone to the agents and put it at a lower +figure; perhaps the Order needed the money and couldn't wait. A bitterer +feeling than she had known for a long time, came with these reflections. +She walked on fast, away from all sight and hearing of the unwelcome +intruders. She fancied how they were poking about the plumbing, and +throwing open the blinds to see the condition of the paint and plaster, +and standing on the lawn, with their backs to the bay, and gazing up at +the house, and saying that chimney must come down, and a new window +could be thrown out there, and the summer parlor must have something +better by way of an entrance. She hated them; she would not put herself +in the way of meeting them. She walked on and on, along the bank, till +she was tired, and then sat down on an uprooted cedar, and pulled the +cape of her coat over her head to keep warm, and waited till she should +be sure they had gone back to the train. She sat with her watch in her +hand, not able to think of the beauty of the smooth, blue bay, spread +below her, nor the calm of the still autumn atmosphere. Nothing was calm +to her now; she found she had been quite self-deceived, and was not half +as resigned and good as she had thought herself. + +"I wish it were all over and done," she said to herself keeping back +bitter tears. "I wish the deed were signed, and the place gone. It is +this suspense that I can't bear. Every time the train comes in, I shall +think some one has come up to look at it. Every time I walk across the +grounds, I shall dread that woman running after me, to ask me for the +keys. Oh, the talking, and the lawyers, and the agents, and St. John +coming up; one day it will be sold, and the next day there will be some +hitch, and there will be backing and filling, and worrying, and +fretting, that wears my life out to look ahead to." + +Poor Missy, she certainly had had some discipline, and not the least +painful part was that she did not find herself as good as she had +thought she was. + +At last she heard the whistle of the cars, faint and far off, to be +sure, but distinct through the still autumn air, and she got up, and +walked back. She went quickly, feeling a little chilled from sitting +still so long, and, full of her painful thoughts, did not look much +about her, till, having emerged from the cedars, and standing upon the +lawn, she looked up, and suddenly became aware that the intruders had +not gone away. A horse and wagon stood before the side entrance, the +horse was blanketed and tied. She looked anxiously around, and saw at +the beach gate, a gentleman standing, his hands in the pockets of his +ulster, and his face towards the bay. He was not at all in the attitude +of criticism that she had fancied, but seemed quite unconscious of the +chimneys and the entrances. His face she could not see, and she hoped to +escape his notice, by hurrying across the lawn before he turned around. +But even her light step on the dry leaves broke his revery, which could +not have been very deep, and he turned quickly about, and came towards +her, as if he had been waiting for her. She uttered a quick cry as she +recognized him, and when he stood beside her and offered her his hand, +she was so agitated that she could not speak. She struggled hard to +overcome this, and managed to say at last: + +"I did not know--I wasn't prepared for seeing anybody but a stranger. I +thought it was somebody to look at the house--" + +"The woman told me you would soon be back--" + +"And I--I can't help feeling," stammered poor Missy, feeling her +agitation must be accounted for in some way, "that people that come to +look at the house are my enemies. I'm--I'm very glad to see you." + +"Even if I have come to look at the house?" + +"O yes, that wouldn't make any difference in my being glad." + +"Well, I have come a great many thousands of miles to look at it. If I +hadn't heard it was for sale, I suppose I should be somewhere about the +second cataract of the Nile to-day." + +"How did you hear about it?" said Missy, not knowing exactly what she +said; but there are a great many times when it doesn't make much +difference what you say, and this was one of those times. Mr. Andrews +would have been a dull man if he hadn't felt pretty confident just then. + +"I saw it in a newspaper, Miss Rothermel, and I felt that that +announcement must mean some trouble to your family. I hoped it was money +trouble, and that I might be able--might be permitted to do something to +put things right." + +"No," said Missy, with a sudden rush of tears to her eyes, "no, it isn't +money trouble. Nobody can help us." + +"I know absolutely nothing," said Mr. Andrews, hesitatingly. "I only +landed last night from the steamer. I have seen no one to-day. I have +only heard from the woman here that everybody was well--that there had +been no death to break your home up, and I couldn't understand. Don't +tell me if you don't want to. I hadn't any right to ask." + +Missy was crying now, in earnest, as they walked up the path, and Mr. +Andrews looked dreadfully distressed. + +"O no," she said, through her tears, "it's a comfort to find anybody +that doesn't know. Everybody here knows so horridly well! I never talk +to anybody. I haven't said a word about it to anyone for months and +months. It's a comfort to talk to you about it--if I ever can--only I've +got crying and I can't stop." + +She sat down on the steps of the summer parlor, where it was sheltered +and where the afternoon sun was still shining. Mr. Andrews sat down +silently beside her, and after a few more struggles with her tears she +took her hands away from her face and began to tell him the story of the +past year. Her eyes were a trifle red, and her skin mottled with her +strong emotion; but I don't think Mr. Andrews minded. + +"Mamma has gone away from me," she said, "to be with St. John and help +him in his work. She has founded a sort of religious house, of which she +isn't to be all the head, or anything like that, I believe; but a +Sisterhood are there, of which she is an associate, and she sees St. +John every day, and the room in which she lives opens into the church +that St. John gave the money to buy--and they do a great and beautiful +work among poor people and they are very happy. + +"It didn't kill mamma as I thought it would, she is better than she was +at home. Everybody here blames her, and that is why I can't talk to any +of them. But you mustn't blame her. Hard as it has been to me, I begin +to see it was not wrong for her to do it. If I had been good I should +have done it too; but I wasn't, and I had to suffer for it. O, if I +could only be like her and like St. John! I don't see how I came to be +so different. At first I hated St. John, and I blamed her, but now I +know in my heart they are all right, and I am all wrong. I can't +understand it or explain it. I only know the truth--that people that can +do what they've done are--are God's own. If I lived a hundred years, I +couldn't be like them, nor be satisfied with what satisfies them. I +couldn't ever be anything but very poor and very common-place, but oh, I +mean to be better than I used to be--a year ago. O, I can't bear to +think of it. But there is no use in talking of what's past. It was right +that I should have to go through what I've gone through, but oh, it was +very hard. And I have been so ill, and everything is so changed in my +life. You can't think how like a dream it all seems to me, when I look +back. This place has been let all summer to strangers, and your place +too, and we are living in the old Roncevalle house, Aunt Harriet and I. +And somehow or another I have got further and further off from all our +friends here. I know they blame mamma and they pity me, and I don't like +either one or the other thing, and I haven't any friend or any one to +talk to, and it has been loneliness such as you can't understand. But I +had got used to things in a certain sort as they are, and I had been +promising myself that nobody would buy the house, and that I could +still have it to myself for a part of the year, and could still think of +it as our own, and was quiet and almost contented, when the woman came +running after me this afternoon and told me some one had come to look at +it, and I was almost as unhappy as at first. I have been crying down on +the bank there by myself all the afternoon. So you must excuse me for +being so upset. I have gone through so much for the last year, being ill +and all--a little thing unnerves me.'" + +For Missy was beginning to feel a little frightened at her own emotion, +and at the silence of her companion. + +"It wasn't a little thing," he said at last, "seeing me and knowing what +had brought me back. I don't think you need be ashamed to be showing +agitation. For you ought never to have let me go away, Miss Rothermel, +don't you see it now? My being here might have saved you, I don't say +everything, but a great deal. I cannot understand why you sent me away. +For I thought then, and I think now, that you relied on me in a certain +way--that you had a certain feeling for me. I should think you would not +have repulsed me." + +"Those horrid women," said Missy faintly, turning very red. + +"I am sure I am very sorry about them. I couldn't help it. I was stupid, +I suppose." + +"I hope they didn't come back with you?" said Missy, with sudden +uneasiness. + +"O no, they are safe in Florence." + +"And you haven't married them?" she asked, with a look of relief. It +made her jealous even to think of their existence. + +Mr. Andrews looked at her as if he were beginning to understand her, +and, half amused and half sad, he said: "No, neither one nor both. And +there is no danger and never was of my wanting to, because for a year +and a half, and may be more, I have wanted very much to marry some one +else." + +"Oh, that reminds me," said Missy, turning rather pale, as if what she +was about to say cost her an effort. "That reminds me of something I +ought to say to you. I heard, last spring, of a thing about you that I +didn't know before. If I had known it I should have felt very +differently about--about you generally--Oh!--why _do_ you make it so +hard to say things to you--I _won't_ say it." + +For Mr. Andrews was quietly, attentively, and perhaps, critically, +listening. He certainly did make it hard to say things. He naturally +showed so little emotion, and said such tremendous things himself, in +such a calm way, Missy found it very difficult to believe them, and very +hard to make statements of an agitating nature to him. + +"I don't know why you won't say it," he said. "Do you think you shall be +sorry?" + +"I don't know. I generally am, whatever I do," she cried, with some more +tears. "But no matter. I suppose you _do_ feel things, though you have +such a cold-blooded way of looking. Well, I didn't know till a few +months ago about--about your wife. And I can only say, I had liked you +so much in spite of believing you were not kind and generous to +her--and--and--if I had known you had been nobler and better than any +other man in the world has ever been--" + +Mr. Andrews got up and walked a few times up and down the path before +the steps, which was the only indication that he gave of not being +cold-blooded when that deep wound was touched. + +"I trusted to your being just to me when you knew the truth," he said, +at last. + +"I wonder you didn't hate me," she exclaimed. + +"Well, I didn't," he said. + +"You have so little egotism," she went on. "I suppose it's that makes +you able to bear injustice. You were so patient and overlooked so much, +and I was--so horrid." + +"I had been so deceived before," he said, "perhaps I was more pleased +with your honesty than offended by it. I was conscious of not deserving +your contempt, and I felt so certain of your truth. I was a little +pleased, too, with your liking me in spite of yourself. You see I knew +you liked me, 'horrid' as you were to me." + +"Then why did you go away, if you knew I liked you?" cried Missy, +looking up at him with fire. + +"Because, at last, I got tired of being snubbed," he said. "I believe I +had got to the end of that patience you are pleased to give me credit +for. I thought I'd go away awhile and let you see how you liked it." + +"And you went away and meant to come back?" exclaimed Missy, beginning +to cry again, "and left me to this dreadful year of misery. I never will +forgive you--I might have died. I only wonder that I didn't." + +"I didn't suppose you cared enough to die about it, but I thought you'd +see you did care when you thought it was too late. I don't know much +about women, but I know that sort of thing occurs. And I didn't mean to +come back as soon as this, either. It was only seeing the place +advertised frightened me a little and made me think you might be going +through some trouble. Do you know, I didn't believe, up to the very last +day, that you would let me go? I have never been angry with you, but I +own I was very sore and disappointed when I found you had gone out that +afternoon, when I sent word by Jay, that I was coming in to say +good-bye. And yet it looked so like pique, I half thought you would send +me some sort of message in the evening." + +Missy hung her head as she remembered that half hour in the darkness at +the gate, but she did not tell him, either then or after, how nearly +right he was about it. + +"Jay did not tell me. Of course you might have known that. And--those +horrid women--said you were going to take them for a drive at half past +three o'clock." + +"They did? Well, I think you're right about them--they are very +'horrid.' There is one thing I don't quite understand; what has +possessed the younger one, at least, to entertain this sort of plan. She +has had more than one offer since we've been abroad, that I know about. +But I believe she has set her heart on being Jay's mamma." + +"It seems to me," said Missy, firing up, "that you have gained in +self-esteem since you have been away. So many young women want to marry +you!" + +"Only two, that I can feel absolutely certain of," he said, sitting down +beside her again, and giving her a most confident, unembarrassed look. + +"I don't like you when you talk that way," she said, flushing, and +pulling her cloak around her as if she were going away. + +"Why, haven't I eaten humble pie long enough? Sit still, Missy, don't go +away yet. I have a great deal more to say to you." + +"I don't like to be called Missy; it isn't my name, to begin with, only +a disrespectful sobriquet, and I haven't given you any right to speak to +me in the way you do," said Missy, palpitating, as she tried to rise. + +"Yes, you have, you have said two things that committed you, besides all +the emotion you showed when you saw me. You can't require me to +misunderstand all that." + +"I don't require you to do anything but let me go away. I--the sun is +setting. It is chilly. I want to go." + +"How do I know that you will let me go with you? It suits me well enough +here. I want to talk to you. It is more than a year since I have had +that pleasure. You haven't even told me if I can have the house. You +used to be a very clever business woman, I remember. Are you going to +make a sharp bargain with me?" + +"I don't care about the house; but I've told you this doesn't please me +in the least." + +Then Mr. Andrews laughed a little. "Well, if you push me to it, I shall +have to buy the house, and bring Flora here as mistress of it. I know +you wouldn't like her as a neighbor, but I can't keep house alone--that +was demonstrated long ago." + +"Mr. Andrews, I--I wish you would let me go. I am tired and I don't +understand why you talk to me in this familiar and uncomfortable way." + +"I won't let you go from these steps, where the sun is still shining and +where you won't get cold, till you surrender unconditionally; till you +tell me that you love me, love,--remember, like is not the word at +all,--and that you have loved me for a year or more; and that you will +marry me, and make me happy, and pay me for the misery you have made me +suffer." + +Surrender was not easy to a young woman who had had her own way so +long--but once accomplished, she was very well contented with her +conqueror, and forgot to resent his confidence in her affection. She +forgot that the sun was going down so fast, and that there was danger of +getting cold by staying out so late. It was twilight when they went up +the steps of the Roncevalle house. + +"What shall I say to Aunt Harriet?" she asked, rather uneasily, feeling +it was odd that this one of the family should be the first one told of +her mighty secret. + +"I should say you'd better tell her, and get the credit of it," he +returned, "for she certainly will guess." + +"Why? I could tell her you had come to buy the house." + +"But you look so happy. What would you tell her to explain that?" + +It is in this way that some long-suffering men avenge the wrongs of +years. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +With the following exceptions, the author's original spelling, use of +hyphens, and other punctuation have been left unchanged. + +Obvious printer errors and typographical errors have been corrected +without comment. In addition to obvious errors, the following changes +have been made: + + Page 52: "havn't" was changed to "haven't" in the phrase: "... + haven't done anything...." + + Page 138: "mighn't" was changed to "mightn't" in the phrase: "... + who mightn't yet...." + + Page 191: The words "waters plashed" were changed to "water + splashed". + + Page 263: "hear" was changed to "heard" in the phrase, "... she had + heard...." + + Page 283: Extra word (upon) was removed in the phrase, "... little + way upon upon the...." + + Page 345: "gaze" was changed to "gauze" in the phrase, "... in + gauze de Chambery...." + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Missy, by Miriam Coles Harris + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40129 *** |