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diff --git a/76970-0.txt b/76970-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9755536 --- /dev/null +++ b/76970-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12019 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76970 *** + +Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + +New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the +public domain. + + + +[Illustration: THE ORPHAN NIECES. + FRONTISPIECE.] + + + + THE ORPHAN NIECES; + + OR, + + Duty and Inclination. + + + BY + + LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY + + AUTHOR OF "UPWARD AND ONWARD," "IRISH AMY," "SOPHIE KENNEDY," + "COMFORT ALLISON," ETC. + + + NEW YORK: + ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY + 770 BROADWAY, COR. 9th ST. + + + + ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by the + + ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, + + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for + the Southern District of New York. + + ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— + + + + CONTENTS. + + —————— + + CHAPTER FIRST. LAYING OUT PLANS + + CHAPTER SECOND. + + CHAPTER THIRD. + + CHAPTER FOURTH. + + CHAPTER FIFTH. + + CHAPTER SIXTH. + + CHAPTER SEVENTH. + + CHAPTER EIGHTH. + + CHAPTER NINTH. + + CHAPTER TENTH. + + CHAPTER ELEVENTH. + + CHAPTER TWELFTH. + + CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. + + CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. + + CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. + + CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. + + CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. + + CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. + + CHAPTER NINETEENTH. + + CHAPTER TWENTIETH. + + + + DUTY AND INCLINATION; + + OR, + + The Orphan Nieces. + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER FIRST. + +LAYING OUT PLANS. + +IT was the time of the noon recess in Mrs. Granger's school, and the +long upper school-room was pretty well filled with her pupils, who were +gathered as chance or inclination prompted, some walking up and down +in pairs, or singly, talking and reading, others actively engaged in +battledore graces, or the old and classic game of jack-stones, and a +few at their desks, endeavoring, amid the babel of noises, to fix their +attention upon their lessons. By far the largest group, however, was +assembled around the piano, sitting, standing, lounging, in all sorts +of attitudes, graceful and ungraceful, and engaged in discussing that +never-failing subject of interest, the approaching examination. + +"After all, girls," remarked Olive McHenry, after the matter had been +reviewed in every aspect of which it seemed capable, "after all, there +is something very pleasant about examinations." + +"I should be glad to know what it is," remarked her cousin Charlotte. +"I have never been able to see any thing agreeable about it, except +that it comes just before vacation." + +"I suppose that is one pleasure," said Olive, with something of a +sigh, "but I think there are some others. It always causes a little +excitement, the rules are relaxed, and all the teachers are in their +best humor." + +"To say nothing of the prizes," remarked Helen Monteith. + +"Yes, the prizes are pleasant, too, but they are only for a few, so it +is hardly fair to rank them among the pleasures of examination." + +"But don't you think vacations are pleasant, Olive?" asked one of the +little girls. + +"Oh! Yes, of course," answered Olive, but somewhat indifferently. + +"But it is so nice to think about going home," persisted little Anna, +who was only eleven years old. "Think of the journey, and the arrival, +and dear, dear mother!" Anna checked herself, and looked around, +blushing, as though she feared having exposed herself to ridicule. + +"You forget I have no mother, Anna," remarked Olive, gravely but gently. + +"To be sure that makes a great deal of difference," assented Anna, in a +sympathizing tone. "I should not care any thing about going home, if it +were not for seeing father and mother." + +"Perhaps, if you had some one at home who had done every thing they +could for you, you might care something about seeing them, Annie," +remarked Charlotte Merton, in the measured tone which was always a +sign of excitement with her, "instead of feeling that no gratitude or +affection was due them because they were 'only' uncle and aunt." + +Olive colored extremely, and looked very much hurt. Several of the +girls exchanged glances, and Anna looked from one to the other in +surprise. + +"I don't think Olive had any such meaning, Charlotte," said Helen +Monteith, while Olive stooped to pick up some scattered bits of paper. +"I am sure it is natural she should think of her parents, when we are +all talking of going home, and seeing our friends." + +"It may be very natural, too, for Olive to be constantly insinuating +that she is not happy, or well-treated at home," returned Charlotte, +"but I must say, it does not seem to me to be just the thing for a +person in her situation." + +"I did not mean or say any such thing, Charlotte," said Olive, looking +up suddenly; "you know very well I did not. You have been angry all +day, because I stood above you in history this morning, and you take +this way to revenge yourself." + +Olive stopped suddenly. She caught Helen's eye of warning fixed upon +her, and biting her lip, she again attempted to busy herself with the +bits of paper but it was in vain. She burst into tears, and retreated +to her seat, while Charlotte looked after her with an expression of +triumph, and the girls exchanged glances, some of sympathy and others +of amusement. + +"What is the matter with your sister, Abby?" asked one of the girls in +another part of the room. + +Abby McHenry looked up from the book she was reading, and in which she +had contrived to be wholly absorbed, despite the noise and confusion +around her. "Is any thing the matter with Olive?" she asked, as if she +were only half-awakened. + +"I presume so," said Maria Grey; "she seems to be crying, and she is +not apt to cry for nothing." + +"I suppose she has had some trouble with Charlotte," said Abby, closing +her book, and preparing to go to her sister. "I do wish Charlotte would +leave off teasing her, or that she would leave off caring for it. I +think she might be used to her amiable cousin by this time. But I must +go and stop her crying, or she will make herself sick: She does not cry +as easily as I do." + +Abby did not inquire of her sister what disturbed her, but she sat down +by her, and by caresses and persuasions, finally induced her first to +check her sobs, and then to retire to her room, and bathe her face and +eyes before school. This accomplished, she returned to the school-room, +and sought out Helen Monteith. + +"Do take Olive out to walk after school, Helen, and keep her quiet," +she said. "She gets into such a taking, and I can not manage her half +as well as you do." + +"You don't get into takings, yourself, Abby," said Helen, laughing at +the oddity of the request. + +"I don't allow Charlotte to disturb me, at any rate," returned Abby. "I +know her too well, and what is the use? But do pray comfort Olive, if +you can. I don't know what she will do when we go home for good," she +continued; "for it is worse there than it is here. I really dread the +close of the next half-year, not for myself, but for her." + + +"Come and walk in the grove with me, Olive," said Helen, accordingly, +as soon as school was out. "I have obtained permission of Mrs. Granger, +and the day is so cool that we shall have our favorite walks all to +ourselves." + +Olive assented, and the two friends were now to be seen passing up and +down the long gravelled paths, which led through a thick grove of beech +and maple, down to the water's edge. + +"How tired you look, Olive," said Helen, at last. + +"I am not so much tired as I am fretted and worried," Olive replied. "I +do not see what it is to come to." + +"What 'what' is to come to?" asked Helen. + +"The times I have with Charlotte," replied Olive. "You saw how it was +at noon. Because I said something about having no mother, she took it +up, and made it appear that I was trying to insinuate that I was not +well-treated at home. There is hardly a day of our lives that she does +not get up some such scene, and she generally takes occasion, in the +course of it, to put me in mind of the fact that I am dependent upon +her father." + +"But you are not entirely dependent, are you?" inquired Helen. + +"Not entirely. We three girls, Abby, Laura, and myself, have almost +three hundred dollars a year between us. That is enough to provide as +with clothes, but it will not be quite as much when we finish going to +school. So Abby and I stay at uncle Merton's, and my aunt Dimsden has +adopted Laura, and educates her at home." + +Olive paused a little, and then went on. "Uncle Merton is very kind, +and I always get on nicely with him. Aunt is kind too, at least in all +essentials, and I am very much attached to her. But she naturally sides +with Charlotte, and never imagines that she can do any thing wrong. +Then aunt is proud. She was very indignant at my mother, for marrying +beneath her, as she thought, and she thinks I am just like my father. +I hope I am," continued Olive, coloring with a justifiable pride; "I +should not wish to resemble a better man." + +"But in spite of all this I should do very well, if it were not for +Charlotte. She renders my life miserable by her everlasting jealousy +and suspicion. Even that I could put up with, but this feeling +that I am only a dependent, and have no home of my own except upon +sufferance—that I may be looked upon as an intruder and a burden—it is +that which embitters every moment of my life." + +"How does Abby bear it?" asked Helen. + +"Why, Helen, you know how Abby is? Nothing ever disturbs her. I have +heard aunt scold her half an hour at a time, so that if it had been me, +I should have felt like drowning myself almost, and she would not care +any more for it than though the old cat had mewed at her. It is just so +when Mrs. Granger finds fault with her. I wish I had her temper, I am +sure." + +Helen had her doubts whether Olive would be, upon the whole, improved +by having her sister's indifference, but she did not express them. "I +wonder, Olive," she said, after a few moments' silence, "that you do +not at once take measures to render yourself independent." + +"How do you mean?" asked Olive. "How would I?" + +"Very easily. You have had every advantage of education so far, and +you say you expect to be in school at least half a year longer. What +hinders you from preparing yourself thoroughly, and thus engaging in +teaching?" + +Olive looked as though she had received a perfectly new idea. "I never +thought of that," said she; "I wonder if I could." + +"Why not? A great many people undertake it, who are by no means equal +to you in capacity or advantages, and are successful." + +"But it is a great drudgery, Helen." + +"That depends upon circumstances, my dear. That teaching must always +be hard work, I allow, but it seems to me that it is very possible to +raise it above the character of drudgery." + +"How?" + +"By putting one's whole heart and soul into it, as many teachers do. +Witness Mrs. Granger and Miss Lee, and our good Professor De V. But, +even allowing that it is hard work, is it not better to work hard, and +be your own mistress, than to live in leisure and luxury, dependent +upon another, however kind and considerate that other may be?" + +Olive looked very thoughtful. "Yes," said she, at length, "I would +rather work hard from year's end to year's end, if I could make enough +to support myself comfortably. But how should I go to work to procure a +situation?" + +"Ask Mrs. Granger to find you one. You know she procured excellent +places for Ann Browning and Elizabeth Hayes. She likes nothing better +than to help the girls in this way, unless it is to see them married." + +"What would uncle and aunt say, I wonder? I think it very doubtful +whether they would hear of such a thing. Aunt said the last time we +were at home that she hoped to have us settled in homes of our own +before we were twenty-five." + +"There is another thing to be taken into the account, Olive," said +Helen. "Suppose your aunt undertakes to make up a match for you. If you +are at all what I take you to be, you are not the girl to marry for +a home or an establishment, whatever may be your circumstances. But +suppose, as I said, she undertakes in all kindness to provide you with +a husband. Your ideas and hers very probably would not agree. If you +refused, out and out, your situation at home would not be rendered in +the least degree more comfortable, while if you accepted, as you might +be greatly tempted to do, there would be an end of all self-respect and +happiness for the future." + +"I have often thought of that, among the other discomforts of my +condition," replied Olive, "though I never saw my way out of it before. +I do not think that aunt Rebecca would ever intentionally do any thing +ungenerous, though she does not like to be contradicted. But it will +not do to decide hastily," she continued. "I must take the matter into +consideration. I believe I will say that I will not try to come to any +conclusion till after next Sunday." + +"Why next Sunday?" asked Helen. + +"Because it is Communion-Sunday," replied Olive. "I do not know but +I am superstitious about it, Helen, but it does seem to me as though +prayers upon communion-days were worth more than at other times." + +"I do not see why they should not be," Helen said; "one would naturally +pray with more faith and earnestness in presence of the memorials of +the love of our Master and only Saviour, and it is said, 'According to +your faith be it unto you.'" + +"I have often thought it was wrong in me to be so discontented," +continued Olive, after they had taken two or three turns in silence, +"and I have struggled hard against the feeling, but it will come back." + +"I think it would be wrong to be discontented, if you could help +yourself," returned Helen, "but if we can better our condition by +proper and lawful means, it appears to me that we have a right to do +so. If I were you, I should make a great effort to be free, and not be +discouraged by a good many hindrances. But if it should be shown to be +clearly impossible, I should try to be contented, and make the best of +it." + +"I wonder what Charlotte will say?" + +"Never mind what Charlotte says," returned Helen, with some little +impatience in her tone. "I do wonder, Olive, that when you know her +so well, you should constantly disturb and fetter yourself with a +reference to her. You never appear to advantage where she is, because +you always seem under such a constraint, and you hardly ever express an +opinion before her, without looking as if you wondered how she would +take it." + +"It is foolish I know," said Olive, coloring, "but one reason is that +she always seems upon the watch to turn me into ridicule, and if I say +an unguarded word, she is sure to take advantage of it. Then if I show +any signs of resentment, comes out something about my being dependent." + +"Another reason for rendering yourself independent." + +"Yes, and a very great one. If it were not for her, I should not care +so much. For really aunt means to be very kind, though she does not +always show it in the most agreeable way. And uncle is every thing that +is good. I think if I decide upon this course, I will write to him +before we go home. I can always speak my mind better in a letter than +in any other way, and if I have his consent, I shall have little to +fear; for he is most emphatically head of the house. Even Charlotte is +afraid of him." + +"You will have a strong motive for making the most of your time while +you remain in school," said Helen. "If I were you, Olive, I would +devote more time to Latin and mathematics. You are a good French and +Italian scholar, and your standing in the other classes is excellent. +But if you will allow me to say so, you are rather behindhand in these +two branches, especially in algebra." + +"I know I am," replied Olive; "I like them so much less than the +others, and they are so much more difficult for me, that I have always +felt a temptation to neglect them." + +"But they are very necessary for a teacher," remarked Helen. + +"I will begin to work at them this very night. I shall dislike to give +up the French prize, too," she continued, with something like a sigh, +"but it can not be helped. I must risk a less for a greater, as Mr. +De V. says. Charlotte will think I am trying to take the mathematical +prize from her. She regards it as hers already, you know, and I fear +there is no chance of my coming up to it so late in the term." + +"Charlotte again! Why should you wish to take it from her? Let her have +that, and the French prize too, if she wants them. I should rather +give them both up, than have any new cause of jealousy arise. You are +working for a larger prize than a writing-desk, are you not?" + +"She might have every one in the school if it would make her any +better-natured," returned Olive. "Suppose I tell her that I will not +try for any of them?" + +"That would hardly answer the purpose. Just devote yourself to making +up your own deficiencies and let things take their course. If you gain +a prize, well and good; if not, you can afford to lose it. But there is +the half-hour bell for tea; I had no idea we had been out so long." + + +When the bell rung for study at seven, Olive prepared to push her +resolution into practice. Yet it was not without a sigh that she +cleared her end of the table of dictionaries and grammars, and took +down her slate and geometry. This was soon dispatched, and it was with +a still deeper sigh that she turned to her algebra. + +Abby intimated her surprise in humorous dumb-show, but did not speak; +for both the sisters were very particular in observing the rules, Olive +from principle, and Abby because she very well knew that there was no +use in talking, to her sister, since she only lost her credit-marks, +without getting any answers. + +The lesson appeared uncommonly puzzling, and at first it seemed +hopeless to try to understand it. Yesterday she would have contented +herself with bestowing only just as much labor upon it as would save +her from disgrace in the class, but she had a new and powerful motive +for exertion. With a strong effort, she brought all her powers of mind +to bear upon the task before her, and before nine o'clock she was able +to lay down her slate with a sigh at once of fatigue and relief, and +turn to her French lesson. She had hardly set about it, however, before +the bell rang, which proclaimed that study was over for the night, and +set free the hundred and twenty tongues that inhabited the building, +Abby's among the number. + +"How you have been fagging at that algebra!" she exclaimed, as the +first stroke sounded. "Are you going to try to get Charlotte's prize +away from her?" + +"No," replied Olive, as she threw herself back in her chair; "I have no +expectation of any such thing. She is too far before me for that. But I +want to make up my deficiencies in mathematics if I can." + +"What a pity you did not begin before! It is so near examination that +every credit counts, and you will not have time to get any extras in +French, if you give so much to algebra. I should not like to have you +lose the French prize, after taking it so often." + +"I own I should be sorry to lose it," said Olive, "but after all, Abby, +the prize is not the principal thing." + +"Perhaps not, but you must own it is a great help. Much as I +love music, I don't believe I should have applied for an extra +practice-hour, but for the hope of winning that beautiful copy of +Dante." + +"I am working for a prize, too," said Olive, "but it is not a school +prize." + +Abby looked at her in surprise. "Oh! Yes, of course," she said at last, +"you always want to do just right, I know." Abby spoke in entire good +faith. Perhaps the strongest feelings she ever had were admiration and +love for her sister. She would for Olive's sake sacrifice even her +dearly beloved laziness, which was the strongest proof of affection it +was possible for her to give. + +"That is not it, exactly, either," said Olive. "I have a plan in my +head." + +"Don't tell me, Olive, if you don't want Charlotte to know," +interrupted Abby. "You know she always questions every thing out of me +sooner or later. However, don't look so disappointed," she added; "if +you want me to know very much, I will make an extra effort to keep my +own counsel for once." + +"I do want you to know very much," replied Olive, "and I do not want +you to mention it to Charlotte, at least not till after I write to +uncle." And she proceeded to unfold her plans. + +Abby listened with a mingled expression of perplexity and astonishment. +When Olive had finished: + +"If you were the least bit like me, Olive, I should say it was the +most absurd thing in the world. But being as you are, I don't so much +wonder at it. I don't see why you can not be contented to go on as we +have done, and as I always mean to do, enjoying the good and letting +the evil go by. But if you can not, and I really suppose you can't, you +would no doubt be more comfortable in a state of independence. But O +Olive! Only think of the work! Think of having to teach all sorts of +children six hours a day, from year's end to year's end all your life +long." + +"And think of having to put up with Charlotte's impertinence, and aunt +Dimsden's matchmaking, and aunt Rebecca's lectures all one's life long, +never being able to spend a cent of money without having to account +for it to some one, whose tastes are entirely different from your own. +Think of—" + +"Yes, I know all that," interrupted Abby, "but after all, we always +have as much money as we want to spend, or nearly as much; for I +don't believe any body had really ever as much as they wanted," she +added laughing. "As for aunt's lectures, they need not worry you, if +you would only take them in the right way. Charlotte is a nuisance +sometimes, I allow, but then she has a right in her father's house, and +we are there only upon sufferance; so we must not wonder if she sets +herself up." + +"Being there upon sufferance is the very thing I complain of," said +Olive. "I would rather work ever so hard and feel that I had a right to +be somewhere, than to live with the kindest persons in the world upon +sufferance." + +"So would not I," replied Abby. "But Olive, if you are really set upon +this scheme, I would write to uncle about it before we go home, and +get his consent: then you will know exactly what to expect and can act +accordingly. I shall be sorry to have you go away from me," she added +with a sigh, "but if you think you will be happier—and perhaps," she +said with her birdlike laugh, which Olive could never resist, "I shall +make a grand marriage by that time, and then you can come and live with +me." And she forthwith began to place the prospective arrangements of +Olive's bedroom. + +Olive sighed and smiled. She knew her sister had almost no capacity for +seriousness, and while she often felt painfully the want of sympathy +which existed between them, she was thankful for her affection—an +affection greater than Abby bestowed upon any other living creature. + + + +CHAPTER SECOND. + +BY the end of the week which Olive had set for consideration, her +determination was firmly fixed upon the plan which Helen had proposed +to her. The letter to her uncle was written and sent, and she composed +herself to wait for an answer with what patience she might, applying +herself meanwhile with all diligence to perfect herself in those +studies wherein she felt herself most deficient. + +Charlotte found, to her great surprise, that Olive was gaining upon her +in mathematics, while they were more nearly upon an equality in French +than they had ever been before; for Olive found it entirely impossible +to keep up her ordinary standing in the latter class. She could not +help feeling mortified the first two or three times she came to the +recitation with only her regular lesson and a short translation. But +the feeling passed off by degrees, and she was able to hear Charlotte +commended with all due complacency. + +Not so Charlotte. Every honor gained by Olive in algebra and geometry +seemed an annoyance to her, and she actually turned pale when the +credits were read at the end of the week, and Olive's name stood within +one of her own. + +Several of the girls smiled, and Abby laughed outright, despite her +sister's reproving looks, all of which did not tend to make Charlotte +feel any more amiably. Almost as soon as school was out for the +afternoon, she came up to where Olive and Abby were standing, with +several of the other girls. + +"I wish to know, Olive," she said, in her measured tones, "whether you +intend to dispute the mathematical prize with me?" + +"I do not intend to dispute it with you, or any one, Charlotte," +replied Olive, gently; "I should stand very little chance of success +if I did. You know I have always been very deficient in mathematics, +and I want to make it up while I have time. As for the prize, that is +as it may happen. I shall be very much surprised if I do get it, and +certainly your chance is much better than mine." + +"I am to understand, then, that you mean to contend for the prize?" + +"No," replied Olive, a little impatiently; "I do not. I only mean to +learn my lessons as well as I can, and let the prize take its chance." + +"If that is all you want, I think it would be just as well to learn +your lessons without the key," said Charlotte, with a significant sneer. + +Olive colored, while Abby exclaimed: "How perfectly absurd you are, +Charlotte. I don't believe Olive ever looked at the key, and I am sure +I should know it if she had." + +"I do not believe there is any key," said Maria Grey. "Miss Lincoln," +she asked of one of the teachers who was passing, "is there any key to +the higher algebra?" + +"Not that ever I heard of," answered Miss Lincoln; "why?" + +"Nothing, only Charlotte thought she had seen one," said Maria, and +Miss Lincoln passed on. "You see you are wrong, Charlotte," she +continued; "I really think you owe Olive an apology for your uncivil +insinuation." + +"Perhaps I was wrong in 'this' instance," returned Charlotte, with +peculiar emphasis. "I confess I am not so well acquainted with keys and +counted exercises as some of you." + +She turned round to mark the effect of this speech upon Olive, but +Olive had left the room. + +Olive learned to attach much less importance to her cousin's jealousy, +since she seemed to have a prospect of escaping from it at some time +or other. But she had a new source of uneasiness. It was two weeks +since she had written to her uncle, and she had yet received no answer. +She began to think that he was ill, or else that he was seriously +displeased, and either idea was sufficiently unpleasant. About Mrs. +Merton's opinion she felt less anxiety; for she felt that, however +annoyed her aunt might be in the outset, she was sure to come round to +her husband's side in the end. + + +The next morning, however, brought the much-desired answer, and it was +with no little agitation that Olive retired to her room and broke the +seal. A hasty glance told her that she had nothing to fear from her +uncle's anger, and, that apprehension removed, she was able to read the +letter more calmly from beginning to end. + +Mr. Merton was not in the least displeased with his niece's desire +for independence; on the contrary, he sympathized with her entirely, +but he feared that she had not thoroughly counted the cost. Teaching, +pursued as a means of support, was a laborious, and oftentimes a +harassing occupation. It would probably be some time before she +would be able to earn a high salary, or occupy any but a subordinate +position, and she would find herself obliged to put up with a good many +trials, of which she had very little conception. He did not, however, +mean to discourage her from her undertaking, which he thought very +praiseworthy, but he wished her to take the time which remained of the +term for consideration. And if, when she came home, she continued of +the same mind, he would cheerfully aid her by every means in his power. +He mentioned at the end that aunt Rebecca sent her love, but he did not +say whether she knew any thing of the matter in hand. + +Olive's feelings had been wrought up to a pitch higher than she herself +was aware of. While the matter was uncertain, she had made up her mind +to be disappointed, but no sooner did she learn that there was every +prospect of success, than she became aware of what a failure would have +cost her, and, while she laughed at herself for the weakness, she could +not help crying. + +Abby surprised her before she had quite dried her tears. She snatched +the letter from her sister's hands, and read it through. + +"Why, what are you crying for?" she very naturally asked. "I do not +see but uncle says every thing you could wish. You certainly can not +think it unreasonable that he wants you to wait till vacation before +deciding! Even I should not object to that." + +"I don't know what I am crying for, that is the truth," said Olive, +drying her tears and laughing, "only that I had made up my mind to +be disappointed, and uncle's kind letter came upon me with a sort of +surprise. I do not at all complain of his wanting me to take a longer +time for consideration, you may be sure." + +"I wonder what aunt Rebecca will say!" + +"I rather think he has not mentioned the affair to her at all. I wish +you would join me, Abby." + +"Oh! No; it is entirely out of the question. To begin with, I don't +know any thing well enough to teach it, but music, and I never should +have the patience to teach that. Think of being obliged, day after +day, to listen to all sorts of compositions, good and bad, drummed +and thrummed, and thumped and pounded, out of all sorts of pianos, +by all sorts of hands, with a running accompaniment of 'one,' two, +three—'one,' two, three—mind the rests—one, two, three—take care of +that accidental—and so on, to the end of the chapter." + +"But you might learn other things, Abby." + +"It is far too late for that, my dear, even if I had the capacity, +which I have not. And besides, I am very well contented as I am. I +shall be sorry to have you away, but if you think you will be happier, +I shall not mind it so much. And perhaps, as I said, I shall be married +to some rich man before you come back from your first term, and then +you can come and live with me." + +"You would not marry for an establishment, would you, dear?" + +"Oh! Not really, you know! That would be worse than teaching, because +it would be mean, us well as inconvenient. But then, I may take a fancy +to a rich man as well as a poor one, may I not?" + +"You may, to be sure," said Olive, smiling, "but I do not think it is +very profitable to speculate upon such things." + +"Well, then, if you won't be interested in my matrimonial projects, +come and play battledore with me in the hall. That good-natured little +Anna has lent me hers, and I am dying for some one to play with me. +Come, you are getting as old as your great-grandmother, over those +stupid figures. Who do you think will want a teacher looking like a +Sphynx?" + +Olive laughed, but suffered herself to be drawn away from her books, +and at the end of an hour's active exercise, she certainly felt better, +and inclined to take a brighter view of life. She gave Charlotte her +father's message, without, however, showing her the letter, at which +Charlotte was very angry, and at once concluded that Olive had been +writing something to her disadvantage. + + +Examination-time came, and, to the wonder of every one, Olive took +but one premium, and that was for the higher mathematics—considered +the highest prize in the school. No one stood any where near her but +Charlotte, and she was twenty behind, though she took the second honor +in French, and the first in history. + +Olive was as much astonished as any one else: she had not kept the run +of her own credits, and could hardly believe her ears when the account +was read. It was with any thing but a feeling of unmixed pleasure that +she went forward to receive the prize—a beautifully-fitted writing-desk. + +As soon after school as she could get an opportunity, she went up to +Mrs. Granger's private room, where she found Charlotte, apparently in a +state of much excitement, and she caught her own name as she entered. + +"Mrs. Granger," said Olive, "are you sure there is no mistake about the +prize?" + +"What mistake could there be, Olive?" + +"I did not think—I had no idea of gaining the prize in mathematics," +replied Olive. "I supposed Charlotte would like it of course." + +"I presume Charlotte thought so too, and that may be the way she has +lost it," said Mrs. Granger. "She has taken it so many times that she +felt herself perfectly secure, and relaxed her efforts, while you have +improved very much. Charlotte has taken two prizes, and that ought to +content her." + +"I should hive taken this too, if I had had a fair chance," burst forth +Charlotte, the violence of her feelings causing her to forget the +respect due to Mrs. Granger's presence. "If the trial had been half +fair, I should have had nothing to fear." + +"What am I to understand by that, Miss Merton?" asked Mrs. Granger, +with stately dignity. + +"That Olive has been helped and favored in every way, while I have +been left to depend upon my own efforts," returned Charlotte, far too +angry to consider what she said. "Miss Lincoln has always been ready to +assist her, and so has Miss Smith. As long as the partiality extended +only to French, I was willing to put up with it, but to be cheated out +of my just dues by a poor relation—a dependent upon my father's bounty." + +"Charlotte Merton, hold your peace!" said Mrs. Granger, in her very +sternest tone of authority, before which the boldest rebel quailed. +"Your conduct is disgraceful in the extreme. In charging Miss Lincoln +with favoritism, you at once insult me, and make an accusation which +you can not sustain, for I venture to say that there is not another +girl in the class, beside yourself and Olive, who is the least +surprised at the result. As for your saying that Olive has cheated you, +the very fact of her coming here at once to ascertain whether there was +not a mistake—to say nothing of her established character for purity +and honor—gives the lie to that assertion. + +"For shame, young lady! Have you so little magnanimity that though +you have taken two premiums yourself, you grudge your cousin another, +besides taunting her with her misfortunes? I am very much disappointed +in you, Charlotte! I knew your temper was in many respects faulty, but +I never saw any littleness in you before. No, Olive, my dear, there +is no mistake about the prize. You have fairly earned it, and we all +rejoice that your efforts have been crowned with success. Yet I venture +to say that the honor has not been your object in these efforts—is it +not so?" + +"Yes ma'am," replied Olive, whose first indignation against Charlotte +had subsided into something like pity. "I hardly thought at all of +taking the prize. I had another object in view." + +"I think I partly guess what that object is," said Mrs. Granger, "and +if you choose, you shall tell me this evening, when I shall be at +leisure. Come, Charlotte, I am sure you must regret your hasty words +and unjust suspicions. Let me see you give your cousin your hand, and +say so." + +"If you think Olive has been perfectly fair, and she says so, Mrs. +Granger, I am willing to believe it," replied Charlotte, who began, in +truth, to see that she was not appearing to advantage. "I confess I was +hasty, Olive," she added, offering her hand. "I hope you will forget +what I said. No doubt you are perfectly entitled to the prize." + +Olive took the hand, and offered a kiss in return, which was accepted, +and the two cousins went down-stairs, and entered the school-room +together, with an appearance of more cordiality than was usual with +them. + +Some of the girls were glad to see it, others wondered, and many +prophesied that it would not last long. In this they were so far +mistaken, that it lasted all next day, and through the journey home; +for Charlotte had become more and more sensible that her anger at +losing the prize would very naturally be attributed to envy at her +cousin's success, and she had at the bottom of her heart a great +respect for Olive's good opinion. + +Before they left school, Olive had laid open all her plans and desires +to Mrs. Granger, and received that lady's cordial approval. Mrs. +Granger furnished her all the assistance in her power towards obtaining +a situation whenever she should desire it, but strenuously advised her +to spend another half-year in school, more, she was pleased to say, to +acquire the routine of school business, than to add to her accomplished +merits. + + +Owing to a slight accident, the girls did not arrive at home until +so late an hour of the night that they could think of nothing except +taking a hearty supper and going directly to bed. The next morning, +however, the whole subject was brought up by the usual inquiry about +prizes. + +"Olive and I have changed this time," remarked Charlotte, with +tolerable good humor. "She has carried off the mathematical honors, and +left the French to me." + +"Olive taken the mathematical prizes!" said aunt Rebecca, with evident +astonishment. "I thought you always reckoned upon that with certainty, +Charlotte, and I see your French is only second. How does it happen, +Olive, you have taken such a sudden start?" + +"I don't know, aunt, unless it is because I have studied harder than +usual," replied Olive, coloring a little under her aunt's scrutinising +glance. + +"I suppose you have taken the first French, too," continued Mrs. +Merton. "Really you have come home covered with honors." + +"Maria Grey took the first French," said Abby, who had heretofore been +occupied in slyly feeding the cat under the table. "Olive has given +more time to algebra and Latin than to any thing else this term." + +"Why was that, Olive?" asked Mrs. Merton, rather sharply. + +"Olive has been quite mysterious about the matter," Charlotte remarked, +unable to resist the temptation to tease her cousin a little. "She +has assured us that she had another object in view besides the mere +writing-desk. I believe Mrs. Granger is in the secret, but Abby and +myself are shut out." + +"Speak for yourself," interrupted Abby, gayly. "You think I never can +know any thing without telling or it, but you are mistaken for once; I +have known it all along." + +"I do not approve of secrets," said Mrs. Merton, looking a good deal +displeased. "I can not conceive of any good motive Olive could have for +concealment in this case, I am sure." + +"I believe I am in this mighty secret, eh, Olive?" said Mr. Merton, +smilingly. + +"Yes, uncle," replied Olive, glad of her uncle's protection. "You know +more about it than any one." + +Mrs. Merton waited in dignified silence. Mr. Merton helped himself to +another piece of toast, buttered it, took a hot egg, and breaking it, +said, quietly: + +"The reasons that Olive has been so earnestly devoting herself to +mathematics this term are, first, that she felt she had neglected +them before; and secondly, because she has, as I understand, made up +her mind to engage in teaching, as soon as she leaves school, and she +justly thinks that this branch is a very important one to her success." + +"In teaching!" exclaimed Charlotte. + +And then there was an awful silence. Olive dared not look up. She felt +her aunt's glance of offended majesty fastened upon her. She knew if +she met it, she should certainly either laugh or cry, and she did not +want to do either. + +Abby's head was down under the table to look after the cat; and if it +was Minny that mewed, her voice sounded uncommonly like a giggle. + +At last Mrs. Merton spoke: + +"May I ask, Miss McHenry, what are the motives which have led to +this extraordinary decision? Do you not consider that you have been +well-treated in this house?" + +"No, aunt," replied Olive, meekly. + +"Then, permit me to ask, once more, why you wish to quit us, and +engage in the occupation of 'teaching?'" with an emphasis upon the +word, as though Olive had proposed to engage in the occupation of +street-cleaning. + +"Because I do not wish to be dependent any longer, aunt Rebecca," +replied Olive at last, in a voice which trembled at first, but which +gathered firmness as she proceeded. "You have been very kind to me, and +I have never felt otherwise than grateful for it, but I would, rather +earn my own living if I can." + +"And how long has this precious project been in agitation?" + +"I first thought of it at the beginning of last term," replied Olive. +"I wrote to uncle upon the subject immediately, and as he did not +disapprove, I considered myself at liberty to entertain the idea." + +Mrs. Merton turned to her husband: "Do you mean to say, Mr. Merton, +that this young lady is aided and abetted by you in this matter?" + +"Why, yes; I must say that I thought the idea a good one," replied Mr. +Merton deliberately. "Olive has talents, and a good education, and if +she is willing, for the sake of independence, to undergo the labor of +teaching, she has my full consent to try the experiment, at the same +time that she knows she is as welcome as possible to stay here, and +make our house her home for life, or until she gets a home of her own." + +"Thank you, uncle," replied Olive warmly. + +Mrs. Merton leaned back in her chair. "I have no more to say," she +remarked in a resigned tone of voice; "I really can say no more. I +have always feared, from Olive's extreme resemblance to her father, +that some of his peculiarities might appear in her. But I hoped a good +education might overcome the advantages of a low origin. I see it was +in vain." + +"Aunt," said Olive, with some indignation in her tone, "you have no +right to speak so of my father. Whatever may have been his birth, he +was an honest and honorable man, and deserve nothing but good of any +one. His losses of property might have come from error in judgment, +but no one ever accused him of one speck of dishonesty or selfishness. +My dear mother always spoke of him as the kindest of men; and my own +recollections of him tell me the same thing. You are welcome to say +what you please to me, but spare my father's memory." + +"You are right, Olive," said her uncle, gravely. "Your father was one +of the most honorable of men; and if his birth was not high, it was +honest, and such as no republican need be ashamed of. But we will drop +this subject for the present. And you, 'my little dunce,'" he added, +turning round to Abby, "what are you going to do?" + +"Stay at home and play for you, uncle," replied Abby, returning her +uncle's pull of the hair by a most impish pinch. "You don't know how +much new music I have learned since I was at home last. I took the +first prize." + +"I hope that you, Abby, are going to appreciate the advantages of +your position sufficiently to remain at home," said aunt Rebecca with +dignity. "I hope you will display more sense than to go running away +after some Quixotic idea of independence." + +"I am quite ready to stay here as long as you want to keep me, aunt," +returned Abby lightly. "It would be nice to be independent, I dare say, +but it would be quite too much trouble for me." + +If the look Charlotte turned upon her cousin was one of contempt, +it was quite lost upon Abby, who, having fed the cat with all that +remained upon her own plate, was slyly abstracting morsels from her +uncle's, when her aunt put a stop to the process by rising from the +table. + +All day long, Mrs. Merton showed her displeasure, by treating Olive +with marked coldness, and bestowing an extra amount of petting upon +Abby and Charlotte. + +Abby took it very quietly, as she was accustomed to do all her +aunt's moods, but Charlotte rather withdrew from it. She felt very +uncomfortably. She could not help being aware, now that there was a +prospect of losing it, how much she valued Olive's society, and many +of the expressions which she had been in the habit of using towards +her cousin came back to her mind with unpleasant force. She respected +Olive's decision, and felt that, in similar circumstances, she herself +would have done the same. And yet, this very respect made her feel +annoyed with herself for according, and with Olive for deserving it. + +At last, as they were sitting together in the twilight, Charlotte broke +out abruptly: "Olive, I am glad you are going away, and yet I am sorry." + +"How can you be both?" asked Olive, rousing herself from a reverie. + +"I am sorry we are going to lose your society," replied Charlotte. "And +I am glad you are going to be more pleasantly situated, and that you +prefer working for yourself to being supported by others." + +"I should always have preferred it, if I could have seen my way clear," +said Olive, coloring little. "I only hope I may be able at some time to +repay uncle for what he has spent on my education." + +"You need not think of that. I am sure he considers himself more than +repaid for any thing he has done for you. But we shall all miss you +very much. I am sure I shall for one." + +"I never imagined that," said Olive. "I really supposed you would be +glad to have me out of the way." + +"That is a great mistake," replied Charlotte. "I have always been +attached to you." + +"You have taken a strange way of showing it, I must say," remarked +Olive, not without some bitterness. "I never could have guessed that +you had any other feeling for me than dislike and jealousy." + +Charlotte colored in her turn. "I can not blame you for thinking so," +she said, "and yet it is not true. Jealous I confess I always have +been, ever since you came here. I was prejudiced against you before, +and I wanted something to justify me in it; so I tried to believe that +you were ungrateful, and that you wanted to injure me in my father's +esteem. But I could not really dislike you, though I tried very hard, +and though I gave you just cause for disliking me. Come, shall we let +by-gones be by-gones, and try to have fair play for the future?" + +As she spoke, she sat down by Olive, and laid her hand on her shoulder, +a wonderfully near approach to a caress for her. + +"Very willingly, I am sure," replied Olive, returning the movement by +a much warmer one. "I can not bear to think that any one dislikes me, +and I have often wished that we could agree better. It will be much +pleasanter being in school as friends than as foes." + +"But I am not to return to school," said Charlotte. "Have you not +heard? Mother means that Abby and I should stay at home this winter. +She says we can have music and Italian masters here, and she wants to +have us go out a little. So if you go back, it will be alone." + +"But why Abby?" asked Olive in surprise. "I do not wonder that she +wants you at home, but certainly Abby would bear a good deal of +education still, though I fear the poor child will never be a wonderful +scholar in any thing but music. You must allow, Charlotte, that she +plays and sings splendidly." + +"Better than any one else I ever heard, of her age," replied Charlotte; +"and that is one reason why mother wants her at home. She says her +musical talents and graceful manners will make such a sensation that +it's a shame they should be lost to the world any longer, and besides," +she added, laughing, "I suspect she thinks it will be very becoming for +a fair belle and a dark belle to come out together." + +Abby, be it remarked, was brilliantly fair, with an immense profusion +of wavy hair, of a peculiar paly-gold tint. Charlotte, on the contrary, +was dark, with a good deal of color, and with hair, eyes, and eyelashes +all of an intense blackness. Olive was rather pale, inclining to be +sallow, and her hair, though excellent in quality and quantity, was of +a dull, unreflecting brown. Her only really beautiful features were +her eyes, which were of a dark-gray, with long black lashes, and even, +level eyebrows—a trifle too heavy for the rest of her face. Olive could +not be called pretty, which might be one reason that she did not stand +as high in her aunt's favor, as her eminently beautiful sister. + +"Does Abby know of this arrangement?" asked Olive. + +"I don't know that she does," said Charlotte; "I rather think mother +has said nothing to her yet; and if I were you, Olive, I would not tell +her. You know mother likes to have the first notice of her plans come +from herself; and Abby will never be able to help saying, 'Oh! Yes, I +knew!'" + +"Poor Abby is such a child," said Olive, with something of a sigh. "I +sometimes feel as though it were wrong to leave her to herself." + +"Oh! She will do well enough. You know how fond mother is of her, and +I suppose you do not doubt that she will take the best care of her." +Charlotte said this with a little of the old jealousy in her tone. + +"Of course I know that," Olive hastened to say, "but I am afraid Abby +will stand too much in awe of her to confide in her as she does in me. +But she will not hear of my giving up my plan upon her account, and so +I can only hope all will be for the best. So it is settled that you are +not to go back with me. I am afraid I shall be rather lonely, but I +suppose I may as well get used to it," she added, with something of a +sigh. + +Charlotte pressed her hand, and sighed too. She began to feel that in +losing Olive, she should lose much more than she had been aware of. + + +Mrs. Merton continued to treat Olive with coldness all the next day, +but by the morning of the third her face began to relax into its usual +smiles. She was, in truth, a very kind-hearted woman, and anxious to do +every thing in her power for her daughter and her nieces. But then she +wanted to do it exactly in her own way, and to have them mere passive +recipients of her favors. Any thing like contradiction, or having a +will of their own, annoyed her extremely. For this reason, Abby had +always been more her favorite than Olive; for Abby never contradicted +any body if she could help it. It was too much trouble. Even Charlotte +did not entirely satisfy her in this respect, for Charlotte was apt +to have an opinion of her own, and to maintain it stoutly, too. But +she had always intended to be just to Olive, though she did not +particularly like her. + +We have said, that in a gentle, lady-like way, she was something of a +match-maker. It was her wish to introduce her into society, under the +best auspices, and if possible, to settle her in life advantageously. +That Olive should actually intend to renounce all these privileges, +and give herself up to the laborious life of a school-teacher, seemed +incredible, and at first her indignation knew no bounds. + +But after calm reflection, she began to see certain alleviating +circumstances. She honestly regretted that the girl should be so +blinded to her own interests, but perhaps upon the whole it was just as +well. It would be much less trouble to bring out two young ladies than +three. Olive was very difficult to manage sometimes, and she had very +romantic ideas upon certain subjects. A year's experience of the real +hardships of life would probably do more towards bringing her to reason +than all the lectures in the world, and she would be ready to return +home and behave like a reasonable being, at least so far as could be +expected from her father's daughter. + +So reasoned Mrs. Merton, and by such reasoning, aided by the natural +kindness of her heart, her wrath cooled apace. She gave Olive her +formal consent to the plan, accompanying the same with an hour's +lecture upon the folly of romantic ideas, and the absolute necessity +of laying them aside, if she meant to succeed in life, concluding +all with a kiss, and the injunction very kindly given, that she must +always consider her uncle's house as her home, and an assurance that +she would ever find it open to her, should she not find her occupation +of teaching as agreeable as she expected. Olive was very grateful for +the kindness, and took the lecture in excellent part, and so fair +weather was once more established throughout the family, greatly to the +delight of Mr. Merton, who never could endure any thing like a family +dissension. + + + +CHAPTER THIRD. + +OLIVE'S vacation passed away pleasantly and quickly; she felt that she +had never before spent one so agreeably. + +Charlotte's jealousy seemed almost entirely subdued. She thoroughly +respected her cousin for her independence, and felt ashamed of the many +times she had taunted her with her unfortunate circumstances: moreover, +she began to feel the real value of Olive's society, and now that she +seemed likely to lose it, she felt a desire to make the most of what +remained. + +Mr. Merton saw, with pleasure, that a warm friendship seemed, at last, +likely to grow up between his daughter and his favorite niece, and +encouraged it by every means in his power. Mrs. Merton, who never did +any thing by halves, exerted all her powers, which were by no means +small, to make the time pass pleasantly. Rides and drives, short +journeys and impromptu pic-nics, filled up the time pretty thoroughly. +And when Olive ventured to remonstrate a little, she received this +answer: + +"You are going to begin a life of hard work, my dear. It is no more +than right that you should play while you can. And mind, Olive, I will +not have you spend your vacation in sewing. There will be time enough +for that when you are away from home." + +Upon this kind pretext, aunt Rebecca took the whole charge of Olive's +clothes. And when she got ready to return to school, she found herself +furnished with an entirely new and very handsome wardrobe, sufficient +to last a long time. She remonstrated a little at being so far favored +above the other girls. + +"Your case is very different from theirs, Olive. As I said before, you +are about entering upon a laborious life, and it is but fair that the +commencement should be made easy for you. Abby and Charlotte will have +plenty of time to play, and it would be no kindness to take their work +out of their hands. Abby, especially, needs to be taught to sew. It is +a knowledge which can not fail to be useful to her, however she may be +situated in life." + +Olive was fain to acquiesce in this reasoning, though she thought +that Mrs. Merton would find she had taken upon herself more than she +imagined, in trying to make Abby work. She well remembered all the +entreaties and remonstrances, the coaxing and scolding that were +necessary at school, to make her mend her stockings or keep her dresses +in any decent order. She took an opportunity to say a few last words to +her sister upon the subject. + +"Do pray, Abby dear, try to keep your clothes in nice order. You know +how much any slovenliness annoys aunt Rebecca, and I shall not be here +to pick up your things after you, and take up your stitches for you!" + +"Never fear," said Abby, lightly; "I am going to turn over a new leaf +about that." + +"But, Abby, you have turned over so many new leaves which did not seem +to have any thing on them after all—" + +"That you are afraid the whole book will be found to contain nothing +but blank leaves, after all, eh, sister mine? But I shall arrive at the +reading by and by, and then see how interesting it will be!" + +"Pray what do you mean to have your book turn out?" asked Olive. + + "Perhaps it may turn out a song, + Perhaps turn out a sermon,—" + +sang Abby, in her skylark tones. "Perhaps a solemn tragedy—who knows?" + +Poor Abby! Who knows, indeed! + +"And, Abby, one other thing. You know I shall not be here for you +to tell all your affairs to—and it takes a good while for a letter +to come and go. Now won't you confide in aunt Rebecca, and take her +advice about every thing? You know you are apt to be giddy sometimes," +said Olive, with the air of one who makes an assertion which may seem +doubtful to the hearer. + +"I did not know I was any thing else," laughed her sister. "I feel +complimented by that 'some times,' Olive." + +"Well, then, if you know that you are giddy, won't you confide in aunt +Rebecca?" + +"Yes, of course, if I can think of any thing to confide. But you had +better say uncle Merton. I could go to him with a story a great deal +easier than I could to aunt Rebecca, for all people generally consider +him so solemn and grave. I wonder why it is?" + +"Because he spoils you, and never lectures you for your good, you +little goose." + +"Well, I don't like to be lectured for my good," with a little toss of +her head, which set her golden curls dancing, so that they seemed to +emit a light of their own. "It never does me any good, and makes me +feel more like being cross than any thing else in the world. I don't +mean you, of course," she added, fearful that she might seem unkind; +"you never do lecture, you only talk." + +"Then, if I only talk, will you mind what I say?" + +"Yes, of course, if I can." + +"And you will write to me very often, won't you, Abby? You know I shall +be very lonely without you or Charlotte—" + +"Without Charlotte, especially," said Abby, parenthetically. + +"I like Charlotte better than I ever did before," said Olive. "But it +is no trouble for you to write letters, and you will have so much to +say. You must tell me all about your parties and going out, and all the +new acquaintances you make. I wish you would keep a journal, and send +it to me every week." + +"Keep a journal, indeed! I would about as soon undertake to keep my +uncle's books. I never expect to have perseverance enough to keep a +journal." + +"Perhaps it would be a good time to acquire that rather convenient +quality," suggested Olive. + +"Oh! No, I can not engage to keep a journal, but I will write as often +as you wish to hear from me. Any thing else, my dear little Mentor?" + +"Nothing, only—you will be going out a good deal, dear Abby, and +perhaps you will meet temptations. Pray don't let any thing make +you forget what we used to learn at our mother's knee when we were +children." + +"I shall never forget that Olive," said Abby, her bright face assuming +the most serious expression of which it was capable. "It seems as +though I remembered that more distinctly than any thing else about her. +And for all you think I am so giddy, (and I know I am,) you never knew +me forget to say my prayers night and morning." + +"That is true," Olive admitted. + +"Or laugh or whisper in church, did you?" + +"I hope not. To say nothing of any higher motive, I do not believe you +would ever do any thing so entirely vulgar and ill-bred." + +"Well, Olive, I can tell you that I saw our very superfine aunt Dimsden +and our very superfiner sister Laura, talking to the very super-finest +Miss Eaton in service-time, at St. David's, last Sunday evening, and I +know Dr. Eastman saw them, too, for he looked straight at them." + +Olive laughed. "Do you know what aunt Rebecca thinks of aunt Dimsden, +Abby?" + +"Oh! Yes, I know. They are a pair of affectionate sisters-in-law, +are they not? But I thought Laura ought to know better. I really was +mortified for her." + +"I am glad I did not see her," said Olive. "I don't think Laura has +improved at all the last year, Abby." + +"How can she improve, living as she does? Aunt Dimsden thinks of +nothing but having a place in society, and making as much parade as she +can, upon as small means. I believe her Bible reads, 'Whether ye eat, +or drink, or whatever ye do, do all for a social position.'" + +Olive shook her head reprovingly, but she could not help admitting the +truth of what Abby said. "I am sure you will admit, Abby, that it might +have been better for Laura, if she had always had the prospect before +her of being obliged to earn her own living. It really makes me unhappy +to think what sort of a woman she is likely to become." + +"There is no use in making yourself unhappy about it, Olive; Laura +likes it." + +"So much the worse for her." + +"And aunt Dimsden pretends to be a religious woman too," said Abby, +thoughtfully. "How is it, Olive, that she says the same prayers and +creed that we do, and that Mrs. Eastman and Mrs. Addiston do, and yet +makes dress and company and outside show her chief objects?" + +"I don't know," answered Olive, with a deep sigh; "I don't want to +judge her, but I think such people do a great deal more mischief than +they think for." + +"Aunt Rebecca does not seem to bestow nearly as much thought and pains +upon her dress and so on," continued Abby, "and yet she is always +well-dressed, and appears like a lady, while Aunt Dimsden—" Abby paused. + +"Aunt Rebecca would not do any thing mean for the sake of what aunt +Dimsden calls society," said Olive. "She would never run after or court +any one she did not respect, or slight any one who had been kind to +her, however vulgar the person might be." + +"She has no need of doing so," replied Abby. "She has plenty of such +society as she likes without it. Sometimes I wonder, Olive, how such +people as Miss Eaton, and—and others would act if there came up another +persecution for the sake of Christianity." + +"There is no telling," said Olive; "they might be as firm and resolute +in dying for their faith as any one at all. They might realize then +that faith is a real true thing, and not a fashion." + +"I think if Miss Eaton should be burned alive, aunt Dimsden and Laura +would go to the stake without flinching," said Abby, laughing. + +"Poor Laura!" sighed Olive. + +"Well, I know; I feel very sorry about her, too, and I wish things were +different, but I can not make them so, and what is the use of fretting? +I should rather be in your place than hers. But I don't want to be in +either so long as I can stay as I am." + +And so the conversation ended, not very satisfactorily in all points +to Olive, but more so, upon the whole, than such conversations between +herself and her sister usually did. About Laura she felt less anxiety +and no responsibility. They had been very much separated from early +childhood, Laura having been adopted by Mrs. Dimsden immediately after +her father's death—and their dispositions were entirely different. +Laura, with all her apparent amiability, was too selfish to be very +lovable. + +They had been educated upon very different plans, and their whole +system of ideas and theory of life were entirely dissimilar. Mrs. +Merton thought Mrs. Dimsden a very vulgar woman: Mrs. Dimsden thought +Mrs. Merton proud, set up, and disagreeable, at the same time that she +courted her society, and made the most in all her conversation of the +small degree of intimacy existed between them. Mrs. Dimsden talked of +dear Rebecca and my sister Rebecca, and quoted her sayings and doings +upon all occasions; while Mrs. Merton always spoke with great respect +of Mrs. Dimsden, and treated her with as much distance as she could +reconcile it to her conscience to assume towards the widow of her +husband's half-brother. Mrs. Merton, in fact, though a very proud, and +somewhat worldly woman, was neither mean nor vulgar, while Mrs. Dimsden +was both. + +Mrs. Merton, though she liked to see her young friends married and +settled in life, and thought any romantic ideas of love and spiritual +affinity very much out of place, would yet have scorned the idea of +going out of her way to attract or entice gentlemen. While Mrs. Dimsden +avowedly considered getting married the principal object in the life +of woman—the very thing for which she was made, and failing which, she +must necessarily miss the great object of existence. In this belief +she devoted all her energies to marrying off whatever young lady might +be under her charge for the time being. People laughed at her, but she +carried her point; and having provided for her younger sisters and +cousins, she was intent upon making a match for Laura—a match which +should exceed all others in brilliancy and cause her sister-in-law to +hide her diminished head. + +Laura, on her part, fell in very well with all her aunt's schemes on +her behalf. She was quite as beautiful as Abby, and almost as devoid +of serious thought. But there was this difference, that while Abby had +a kind and warm heart, and for the sake of any one she loved would +sacrifice almost any thing, Laura, under a veil of amiable manners, +was very selfish, and seldom bestowed a thought upon any one's peace +or comfort except her own. She did not care for books except just so +far as they could minister gracefully to her love of display, and she +valued music and drawing upon the same grounds. In fact, she lived only +upon the outside, and if she had a heart, she had never found it out, +and was not very likely to do so under the tuition of aunt Dimsden. She +liked Olive as well as she could like any body; she envied Abby her +musical talent, and thought her much more reasonable than Olive. This +last plan especially, she looked upon as preposterous to a degree. + +"But Olive," she remarked sweetly, "had always been a strange, +unaccountable creature, and there was no use in distressing one's self +about her freaks." + +Aunt Dimsden said she had given that up long ago, but at the same time +she gave Olive some friendly advice as to marrying a minister or a +professional man—a thing, she observed, which teachers are very apt to +do. + + +Olive's last term in school was a very pleasant one. Her friend, Helen +Monteith, was still there, and some others of her particular set; and +there were several of the new girls whom she liked very much. She +was very busy, for besides her regular business, she spent a good +deal of time in learning what Mrs. Granger called the theory and +practice of teaching, by hearing classes, assisting the younger girls +in their lessons, and helping Miss Lincoln to correct compositions +and exercises. She was surprised to find what an amount of labor was +required in that department alone, and how little, after all this +labor, certain of the girls contrived to learn. + +"It reminds me," she said, upon one occasion, "of an old proverb I have +heard many repeat,—That one man may lead a horse to water, but twenty +men can not make him drink." + +"And yet the poor teacher is blamed for not making him drink," replied +Miss Lincoln. + +"Yes. Many people can never be brought to acknowledge that their own +children and their own management at home is in fault. What is one to +do in that case?" + +"Have patience," said the teacher, sighing: "I know of nothing else. +But I think one great reason why scholars, especially girls, learn so +little, is from the want of any adequate motive." + +"One would think the mere pleasure of knowing ought to be enough," said +Olive. + +"Not with children. They have not knowledge enough to appreciate the +value of more." + +"But most of the girls here are not children, Miss Lincoln. There are +very few under fourteen years old." + +"True," replied Miss Lincoln, "but think how ignorant many of them are +when they come, and when they go away, for that matter." + +"What motive would you propose, then?" + +"Why, they are several. One is, as you say, the desire of knowledge, +but every one can not appreciate that. The next best is the desire of +usefulness, and the best of all is the religious motive, which includes +the others; 'Whether ye eat or drink, or whatever ye do, do all to the +glory of God.'" + +"But I think, Miss Lincoln, it is much easier to acquire knowledge with +the idea of turning it to some account, besides the mere enjoyment of +it one's self," said Olive; "I am sure I have studied much better this +term than ever I did before. I never go over a single lesson without +thinking, 'Now, how should I explain this, if I were called upon to +teach it?' And I find my ideas much clearer for the process." + +"Yes, you learn to analyze, and to see clearly what you know, and what +you do not know." + +"I have heard teachers say that it was very difficult to study while +engaged in school," remarked Olive. + +"It is so," admitted Miss Lincoln; with a sigh. "Their powers of mind +and body are generally so over-taxed in their school duties that they +are glad to rest themselves as thoroughly as possible when they are out +of the school-room. Some are stronger than others, and some schools are +better supplied with assistants, but as a rule, teachers, especially in +the smaller schools, are very much over-taxed." + +Olive sighed. "Not a very pleasant prospect for me," she said. + +"It is part of the price one must be content to pay for independence +and usefulness," replied Miss Lincoln. "But some teachers are much +more favorably situated than others in that respect. In this house, +for instance, we should be very ungrateful if we complained. The only +over-worked person in the establishment is Mrs. Granger." + +"But, Miss Lincoln, think how many men have studied law and medicine, +and even divinity, while teaching." + +"Oh! Yes, I know it. There are many honorable exceptions, even +among women. I studied chemistry myself, while I was teaching in a +district-school." + + +Olive had anticipated one thing, in which she was pleasantly +disappointed. She had supposed a good many of the girls would look +down upon her, when they learned that she was to be dependent upon +her own resources. But in this she found herself mistaken. Girls in a +large school are apt to be very thorough democrats, and if there is an +aristocracy, it is almost always one of talent and personal influence. +Of this aristocracy, Olive had always been a prominent member, and +she did not find her position at all changed. Her equals treated her +with the same consideration to which she had always been accustomed, +and with the younger girls, her influence was increased rather than +diminished, from the fact that she sometimes heard their lessons, or +assisted them in their exercises. + +Still there were some few who took it upon them to pity her extremely, +and among the number were Miss Lucretia Monroe, and her friend, Miss +Jane Douglass, who had long enjoyed the proud preëminence of being +the greatest dunces in the school. Either of these young ladies could +miss question after question at a public examination with the greatest +coolness; they cared nothing for prizes, to which, indeed, they never +aspired. And they never considered themselves disgraced by being found +out in any scrape whatever. Of course, they were not held in any high +estimation by the aristocracy aforesaid. But, secure in the depths +of their ignorance, they did not feel themselves in the slightest +degree disturbed, by the not always concealed contempt of Misses Grey, +Monteith, McHenry, and company. + +"Poor Olive!" said Lucretia one day to Maria Grey, with a sweet air of +amiability. "How much I pity her!" + +"Do you?" said Maria, carelessly. "I dare say she would be very much +obliged to you if she knew it." + +"Yes, because she has got to teach for a living," continued Miss +Monroe, elegantly. "I don't know what I should do if I were so reduced." + +"I don't know what you would, I am sure," returned Maria. "You would +be in a bad case certainly; I can not think of any thing you could +possibly teach." + +"You need not snap one up so, Maria. I do not expect to be a +school-ma'am myself, and my papa never intended I should be educated +for one. But any way, I am sorry for Olive, and I shall make a point of +noticing her just as much as ever." + +"'You' notice Olive McHenry!" exclaimed Maria Grey. "Upon my word, +Miss Monroe, you are sublime in the extreme of your impertinence. Why, +child, it is an honor to you, that she sometimes condescends to help +you out of a scrape, when every one else is tired of you. The idea of +your presuming to pity Olive McHenry, because she prefers independence +gained by her own exertions, to idleness and uselessness! You would do +much better if you would exert yourself to imitate her a little." + +Nevertheless, Miss Monroe persisted in her charitable intentions, and +proceeded to bestow a good deal of her society upon Olive, who could +not help wondering what in the world had come over her. + +She asked Maria one day. "She comes to my room, till I am tempted +sometimes to tell her that I would rather have it to myself, and she +seems to miss no opportunity of talking with me." + +"Don't you understand it?" replied Maria, laughing. "She is pitying you +for your hard fate. She told me that she was sorry for you, and meant +to notice you as much as she could." + +"I wish she would show her pity in some other way than by bestowing her +society upon me," said Olive. "It becomes rather fatiguing, besides +taking up a good deal of valuable time, which I don't very well know +how to spare." + +"Why don't you tell her so?" + +"Oh! I don't want to make an enemy of the girl. Dunce as she is, it is +better to have her good-will than her ill-will, and perhaps I may do +her some good." + +"The idea of doing good to Lucretia Monroe! You would be a good person +to head a crusade, Olive; nothing short of a physical impossibility +would stop you. But there is no harm in trying." + +Indeed, Olive made a good many efforts to induce Lucretia to leave +off abstracting cakes and cheese from the table, and pickles from the +storeroom, and to give a little more time to her books. In which she +succeeded so far that Miss Monroe actually presented herself at the +class with a perfect lesson thrice in one week, to the amazement of all +who heard her, and passed three days without breaking a single rule. + +We regret to be obliged to add, that the improvement was not permanent: +Miss Monroe relapsed into her old habits in the course of a week or +two, and at the end of the year, left school as great a dunce as she +entered it. Her father, a sensible, plain man, who had never received +any thing but a district-school education, felt very much disappointed +at the small improvement made by his daughter, and was much disposed to +lay the blame upon her own idleness and want of principle. + +But his wife informed him that it was solely the fault of the teachers, +who had not made study interesting to Lucretia. Miss Monroe had been +allowed to study what she liked, and to leave off as soon as she came +to a hard place. In this way, she had acquired a little music, a little +drawing, and less French; and she had learned to spell correctly, and +to express herself in tolerable English, because no scholar who had +been at Mrs. Granger's two years could very well help it. But history, +natural science, and general literature, had passed through her mind +like water through a sieve, leaving her no wiser. + +With her daughter's want of proficiency in drawing, Mrs. Monroe was +really annoyed, especially as their neighbor, and Lucretia's old friend +and playmate, Miss Thorn, who had taken lessons of a professor in the +place, had been able to decorate her mother's back-parlor with a great +number of showy drawings in colored chalks, after only a quarter's +instruction. To be sure, Miss Thorn never could do any thing after she +left off taking lessons. And when she attempted, at home, and without +assistance, to copy a portrait of her father, no one could have told +whether the object produced was intended for male or female. But the +pictures done under the eye of Professor B. were much more brilliant +than the portfolio of pen and ink studies and crayon drawings, which +was all that Lucretia had to show; and, while being entirely her own +workmanship, certainly displayed less skill than Miss Thorn's, which +had all been "touched up" by the accommodating professor. + + +For many weeks, Abby's letters came regularly, and were very +interesting, giving full and most graphic accounts of the various +parties, concerts, etc., which she attended under the chaperonage of +aunt Rebecca. And many a laugh did Olive and her friends have over her +descriptions and pen and ink sketches of the people she met in company, +and at her aunt's house. + +Charlotte wrote sometimes, but not very often. She did not seem to +enjoy going into the world as much as her cousin, and said she often +wished herself back at Mrs. Granger's. She spoke frequently of the +attentions Abby received, and the admiration excited by her musical +talents. + +After a time, Abby's letters grew shorter, and less frequent. She +did not seem to be quite as contented, and spoke rather pettishly of +the constant watchfulness of her aunt, who, she said, treated her as +though she were a baby. At one time, she seemed to be the happiest +person possible, and perhaps her next letter would be a commentary +upon the Arabic song quoted by Dumas—"The earth is vanity, and all in +it is misery." Such extremes had never been common with Abby, whose +cheerfulness was usually a steady stream, subject neither to drought +nor freshet. + +Olive became quite uneasy, and began to long for the time to come when +she should be at home again. One thing, however, comforted her. Mrs. +Merton was not a very great letter writer, but she wrote to Olive three +or four times in the course of the term, and in neither of her letters +did she express any disapprobation of Abby, nor did she seem aware of +any change in her spirits or temper. This was quite a consolation, for +aunt Rebecca was tolerably clear-sighted, and Olive thought if any +thing had been wrong in Abby's conduct, she would have been pretty apt +to speak of it. + +Still, she was very glad when the time came for her to go home. An +excellent situation had been procured for her by the kindness of +Mrs. Granger, whose good offices to her pupils extended far beyond +their school-days. She was to take charge of the female department +of a school in Pennsylvania, which had long maintained an excellent +reputation. The salary was to be five hundred dollars, and as much more +as she chose to make by music and drawing lessons. She was to have an +assistant, if she wished it, and the entire control of matters in her +own department rested with her. + +At first, Olive shrunk from assuming so much responsibility, and +almost wanted to decline, but Mrs. Granger was very anxious that she +should secure the place, and her uncle and aunt, to whom the plan was +communicated, approved it highly: so she was fain to accept, though +with a good many misgivings. Once decided, however, the prospect seemed +to brighten; she began to look upon Basswoods as her future home, and +built some castles in the air (even the most practical people erect +such edifices sometimes) upon the little round dot which represented +that place upon the map of Pennsylvania. + +Olive felt very sadly at leaving school for the last time. She had been +there so long, that it seemed more like home to her than her uncle's +house. She had never experienced any thing but kindness from Mrs. +Granger, or any of her subordinates. With her pleasant little room in +the third story were associated all the great experiences of her young +life, since her mother's death. Here she had taken her first peep into +the boundless wealth of foreign literature, written her first verses, +and sketched her first cottage. Here, too, she had experienced her +first deep religious feelings, and here she had found that pearl of +great price, which is not far from every one of us, though we pass it +by again and again, without seeing it. + +Moreover, Olive had many warm, and some deeply-attached friends, +among the school-girls. It is very much the fashion to sneer at +school-girl attachments, and the author has heard a popular lecturer +declare that there never had existed, and never could exist, any such +thing as female friendship. Possibly, the gentleman was not very well +read in Scripture history, for he might have remembered the story of +Ruth and Naomi. We have known intimacies formed at school which have +continued through many and severe changes, and one case, where a close +correspondence was continued through thirty years, the parties meeting +only twice or thrice during the time. + +There is often in the friendship of two cultivated and religious young +women a simplicity and truthfulness—a disinterested admiration of each +other's good qualities, and an unfeigned rejoicing in each other's good +fortune, which it is pleasant to look upon. As for the assertion that +women can not endure to hear each other praised, we leave such shallow +sneers to boys with their first tail-coats, and brainless young men, +who have nothing manly about them but a budding moustache. + + + +CHAPTER FOURTH. + +OLIVE arrived at home about seven in the evening, much wearied with +her journey, and very glad to find herself once more with her friend. +Abby seemed just as usual; she danced and clapped her hands, and danced +around her, as much like a child as ever. Still Olive could not help +fancying, as she looked at her, that there was a change—she could not +exactly tell how. + +There was a shade of womanliness, and even care, upon her bright face, +which had never belonged there, and which Olive could not help feeling +sorry to see. She said to herself that Abby was getting on in life—it +was time for her to grow grave and womanly, perhaps. But she felt that +she would rather have her remain what she always had been—a happy and +careless child. + +But Abby talked so fast, and Charlotte had so many questions to ask, +that she soon forgot her anxiety in giving and receiving information +about school-mates and teachers, friends and neighbors, in answering +aunt Rebecca's searching interrogatories about the place where she was +going, and in the enjoyment of that delightful feeling of home and +comfort which one always feels on returning after even a short absence. + +Olive thought that Charlotte was rather pale and thin, and that she +seemed grave and somewhat subdued. But Charlotte laughed at the idea of +her being unwell, saying that she was only tired of going out, and she +was glad the visiting season had almost come to a close. + +"That is very ungrateful of you, Charlotte," said Abby. "Is it not, +aunt Rebecca?" + +"Why is it ungrateful?" asked Charlotte, rather sharply. + +"Because you have received so much attention, and so many pretty +compliments. I'll tell you, Olive, what Major Trimble said—" + +"Major Trimble is an old goose, and you are not much better for +troubling yourself to repeat his nonsense," interrupted Charlotte. + +"Charlotte, Charlotte, for shame!" remonstrated Mrs. Merton. "How can +you speak so of Major Trimble? He is a most excellent and respectable +man." + +"Mother, you laugh at him, yourself! Did you not have to go out of the +room when he talked about the comedies of Dante, the great Roman poet, +to Professor L.?" + +"And engrossed all the conversation, so that Mr. L. could not say a +word, though every one in the room was anxious to hear him," pursued +Abby. "You know, aunt Rebecca, every one laughs at poor Major Trimble." + +"Mr. Trimble is a very respectable man," repeated aunt Rebecca, "and it +is wrong and unladylike to call any one an old goose." + +"Well, I will not call him any thing, if Abby will leave off quoting +him." + +"I will not quote him if I can help it, Charlotte," said Abby, +laughing; "but it is a great temptation. You do look so magnificent +when you hear him mentioned." + +"Come, girls," interposed Mrs. Merton, "you are keeping Olive up quite +too late, considering that she has been riding all day. To rest, to +rest, my children. You have eight weeks at least, of uninterrupted +conversation before you, and can well afford to spare a few hours. And +remember, Olive and Abby, no talking after you get to bed," she added, +in her kindly authoritative tone. + +Olive was very glad to obey the command, for she was very tired and had +a bad headache. + +She slept late the next morning, and breakfast was entirely over when +she appeared, Mrs. Merton kindly excusing her by saying that it must be +quite luxury for her to lie in bed for once. Mrs. Merton had no spite +in her disposition. She never would say that approved of Olive's plans, +and she heartily wished they had never entered her head. But now the +matter was settled and could not be helped, she was above making her +niece in any way uncomfortable on account of it. + + +The day was passed in unpacking and arranging, and in receiving +company; for aunt Dimsden and Laura came over in the morning, and Mrs. +Merton invited them to spend the day. Laura was even more affable +and graceful than usual, but she seemed more than ever taken up with +dress and company, and the admiration she had received. The same +Major Trimble, whom Charlotte and Abby ridiculed so unmercifully, was +apparently quite an oracle with her; and she indignantly repelled +the idea that he was tiresome, declaring that she hated people like +Professor L., who were always talking about such "grand things." + +"What grand things?" asked Olive. + +"Why Shakspeare and Dante, and—" + +"Yes, Dante, the great Roman poet," interrupted Abby, but the joke was +lost upon Laura, who continued, quite jealous in the defense: + +"I am sure he knows as much as William Forester, and you are never +weary of having him hanging about you, Abby." + +"William Forester," exclaimed Abby, coloring: "William Forester's +little finger knows more than Major Trimble thinks he does." + +"That is saying a great deal, Abby," said Charlotte, gravely. + +"What nonsense, Abby! Mr. Forester is well enough, but he is nothing +remarkable, and he is as poor as poverty, besides being a coxcomb." + +"I admire the elegance of your expressions, Miss Dimsden," said +Charlotte, sarcastically. "I think both gentlemen would be flattered by +what you say about them, if they knew it." + +"You need not be so grand, Charlotte, you talk about people yourself." + +"Not about young gentlemen," returned Charlotte. + +"Well, now, isn't young Forester a coxcomb?" persisted Laura. + +"No," said Abby, emphatically, "he is not a coxcomb, Laura, but a true +gentleman, in every sense of the term. You have no more right to call +him a coxcomb than he has to call you a coquette." + +"Not quite so much, possibly," said Laura, significantly; "men are very +apt to call women coquettes, who refuse them, you know!" + +"Do you mean to say, Laura McHenry, that you refused William Forester?" +asked Abby, with crimson cheeks and flashing eyes. + +"In the first place, my name is not Laura McHenry, but Laura Dimsden, +my dear; and secondly, it does not concern you whether I refused him or +not. You know Mrs. Merton says there is nothing more unladylike than +for a woman to tell of a refusal." + +"And she is right," interrupted Olive, "whether she tells it out and +out, or only implies it." + +"And besides, Abby," continued Laura, disregarding the interruption, +"if you are so warm in his defense, people will really begin to believe +what they say about you." + +"What do they say?" asked Abby, but Charlotte interposed: + +"Do pray leave the gentlemen to themselves. I am sure we have heard +enough of them, and I want you to hear Olive and Abby play that duet +from Mendelssohn." + +Laura muttered something about stupid, old-fashioned music, but she +was, in her heart, rather afraid of pushing matters to extremities with +her cousin; for though she herself excelled in light skirmishing, yet +in a regular engagement, Charlotte was sure to conquer. + +Abby's hand trembled, and, she made more than one mistake, a thing very +unusual with her. + +At every one Laura smiled significantly, and Charlotte looked as though +she would like to box Miss Dimsden's ears. They kept up a regular +snip-snap all day, and Olive was not sorry when the arrival of company +from out of town, called Mrs. Dimsden and her adopted daughter home +before tea. She could not help fearing that something was wrong with +Abby, and she longed to find out what it was, but there seemed to be no +opportunity. The parlor was full of company all the evening. They were +up quite late, and Abby did not seem inclined for conversation after +they retired to their own room. + + +The next evening, as the girls were busily engaged over some new books +in the garden-arbor, Olive suddenly felt Abby start. She looked up in +surprise, and saw a tall, handsome young gentleman approaching them. + +Abby at first seemed inclined to go to meet him, but checked herself +and waiting till he came up, introduced him to her sister as Mr. +Forester. + +He bowed politely, offered his hand to Charlotte, and seating himself +without farther ceremony, he took up one of the books, and entered into +conversation about it with graceful ease. He was unquestionably a very +handsome man, though there was a certain want of strength and firmness +about his mouth, which showed itself especially when he spoke, through +his well-trimmed and handsome beard. + +Charlotte did not seem to like him very particularly, and they +disagreed rather sharply several times, Mr. Forester sustaining his +opinion politely and well, despite the keenness of his opponent's wit. + +There was nothing to find fault with, in what he said, and yet Olive +noticed a lightness—a want of earnestness—which did not please her. + +Abby seemed at first constrained and uncomfortable, but the feeling +wore off apparently, and she was soon talking and laughing more merrily +than Olive had yet heard her. + +When they went into the house, singing and playing took the place of +conversation, and Mr. Forester joined a fine and cultivated voice to +those of the girls. It came out incidentally, that he drew and painted, +and he was evidently quite at home in foreign literature. Other +gentlemen coming in, he devoted himself exclusively to Abby. + +Olive thought her uncle did not seem to look upon him with any +particular favor. When he had taken his departure, and the girls were +alone together, Abby, after sundry unfinished sentences, asked Olive +what she thought of Mr. Forester. + +"Why, I hardly know," said Olive. "I should have to see more of him +before I could decide." + +"But you must admit that he is very agreeable!" + +"Oh! Yes, very pleasant, and well-bred, and all that, but—" + +"But what?" asked Abby impatiently. + +"I hardly know what. As I said, I do not know enough of him to form any +judgment about him." + +"I don't believe he ever offered himself to Laura, at any rate," said +Abby after a pause, during which she had curled and uncurled her hair +several times. + +"That is nothing if he did. It is no disgrace to a man to be refused." + +"No, but—" + +"But what?" asked Olive, in her turn. + +"Nothing as regards him, but if you were engaged to a man, you would +not like to know that he had offered himself to any one else first." + +"I do not think it would be pleasant, perhaps," said Olive, "but I do +not see why you should have called Laura so sharply to account for what +she said. To be sure it was not a very wise or lady-like speech, but +from the way you took it up, any one might think you were personally +interested in the matter. I would be more careful if I were you, +especially before Aunt Dimsden." + +"There it is!" exclaimed Abby, petulantly. "Lectures, nothing but +lectures, from morning till night. I do wonder whether I am such a fool +as every one seems to believe me. If I am, I think it is a pity I could +not die at once and be out of the way." + +"Abby!" exclaimed Olive, perfectly astonished. In all her experience, +she had never before such an outbreak from her sister. + +"I thought when you came home, you would have a little patience with +me, and treat me kindly," continued Abby, beginning to cry. "It is bad +enough to be watched by Aunt Rebecca, and checked and interfered with +by Charlotte, without your joining in. I—" But Abby's voice became +quite lost in her hysterical sobs. + +Olive tried her best to quiet her, and to persuade her to tell what was +the matter, but in vain. + +For though her ill-humor seemed to dissolve with her tears, and she +embraced and kissed her sister warmly, she still wept, and at last +cried herself to sleep. + + +Next morning, the cloud seemed to have passed away, and Abby was as gay +and cheerful as ever, lavishing all sorts of caresses on her sister, as +though trying to make her forget the scene of the night before. + +But Olive could not forget. It was so very different from Abby's usual +habits—so utterly foreign to any thing she had ever known of her—that +she was completely puzzled. + +The next day was Sunday, and according to the inflexible rule of Mr. +Merton's household, they all went to church, both morning and evening. +Mr. Forester sat directly behind them at the latter service, and walked +home with them, or rather with Abby, for they lagged so far behind that +Aunt Rebecca twice stopped and waited for them to come up. + +Monday evening, they were at a small party, together, and on Tuesday +he called again. Olive was beginning to like him better. She thought +him very modest and unaffected, and quite took herself to task for her +first prejudice against him. She improved an opportunity one day, when +they were alone together, to ask Charlotte about him. + +"Who is he, and where did he come from? What are his antecedents, and +what does he do with himself?" + +"He is Mr. William Forester, and he comes from H. His antecedents +are Mr. and Mrs. Jackson Forester who were old acquaintances of my +father's, and very nice people, I believe," was Charlotte's cunning +reply. + +"Very satisfactory thus far," said Olive, smiling, "but you have not +answered the most important of all. What does he do with his time?" + +"He amuses himself, and entertains other people." + +"And is that all? I should think at his age, he ought to be doing +something more profitable." + +"A good many people think so," said Charlotte, "and my father among +the number. I believe, to do the young man justice, he does pretend to +study law, but I do not know when he accomplishes it. He is always busy +with some picture or translation, or getting up an amateur concert, +or a military display, not to mention the hours he spends in dangling +after different young ladies—Abby, for instance." + +"Has he been long attentive to Abby?" asked Olive, glad that her cousin +had introduced the subject. + +"Why, yes, for three months perhaps. Before that, he was quite devoted +to Laura. You heard what she said about refusing him." + +"Yes. I did not know what to think about it." + +"It is like enough to be true. She would certainly refuse him if he +did offer himself, for she is bent upon marrying a rich man. William +has about five or six thousand of his own, so he is not what one would +call poor, but that is not enough to meet her views. I wish her would +not come here quite so much, for I do not think either father or mother +like him very well, and mother thinks it would be a disadvantage to +Abby to have any idle story set afloat." + +"But you do not think," said Olive alarmed, "that there is any +thing—any engagement between them?" + +"Oh! No!" replied Charlotte. "Abby is giddy enough sometimes, but I +can not think she would enter into any engagement without father's +knowledge and consent. I hope not, I am sure, for I fear he would never +forgive her. But if I may speak quite plainly, Olive?" + +"Of course. That is just what I want." + +"I am afraid Abby likes him." + +"I have thought so myself sometimes," said Olive, after a moment's +painful thought, "but I can hardly believe it. She has always been so +perfectly open with me, and so ready to tell me every feeling that I +can not think she would conceal this," she concluded, thereby betraying +the very small amount of her knowledge of human nature. + +"Perhaps I am mistaken: I hope I am," said Charlotte, kindly. "I am not +very good at observing and watching people." + +"Do you think your mother notices Mr. Forester's attentions to Abby?" +asked Olive, after another pause. + +"Sometimes I have thought she did," said Charlotte. "She never seems +very well pleased at his coming here. I know my father thinks him idle +and trifling, a character with which, you know, he has very little +patience. I hope Abby does not care for him, for I do not believe he +has any stability of character, and that is something which she, of all +people, needs in a husband." + +"She is so young, too. I do hope she has no such idea." + +"If you have any influence with her, Olive, pray persuade her to +be open with my father. You know nothing annoys him so much as any +concealment. But do not worry yourself; we may be entirely mistaken, +you know. It seems rather odd, does it not," she added, smiling, "that +we should be taking counsel together about her affairs? Do you remember +how we used to quarrel in school?" + +"No, I have been forgetting it as fast as possible," replied Olive. "I +think the fault was, perhaps, as much mine as yours." + +"You are very charitable to think so, but I can not agree with you. I +was too unboundedly provoking. I have been angry with myself, many a +time since, to think how I used to insult you." + +"Do not let us talk of it," said Olive; "it is one of the things that +is past and gone. After all, Charlotte, school-days are pleasant days. +I don't believe we shall ever be much happier than we were at Mrs. +Granger's." + +"I do not believe I shall ever be so happy again," replied Charlotte, +with a sigh. "I have wished myself back there twenty times a week, this +winter. When I was in school, I had an object. Every morning I thought, +now here is just so much to be accomplished before night. Almost all my +duties were such as I had pleasure in, and at night I would look back +and think that I had really brought something to pass." + +"Yes, that is very pleasant," said Olive. "But can not you do so now?" + +"No," replied Charlotte, abruptly. + +"Excuse me, but I do not see why." + +"You would see why, if you would consider. Just think how it has been +since you came home. Nothing but going out, or having company at home, +day after day, and night after night, and what does it amount to?" + +"I think it is pleasant enough for a little while," said Olive. "I have +really enjoyed myself very much, since I came home this time." + +"Yes, because you have been hard at work all winter, and need +recreation. But you would not enjoy it to go on so, day after day, and +week after week, without seeming to bring a single thing to pass. I +should really enjoy going back to school, and timing my employments by +the bell and the hour-glass again." + +"But it seems to me—I do not know by experience, to be sure—that you +might contrive to do something more than that, Charlotte. You might +study a good deal." + +"When?" + +"You know no one calls here before twelve o'clock. You might be +tolerably certain of having the time to yourself from half-past eight +to eleven." + +"But supposing I should, what could I accomplish in that time?" asked +Charlotte, half-incredulously, but with an appearance of considerable +interest. + +"A great deal, I think," replied Olive. "You never gave as much time +as that to any one lesson in school. Suppose you undertake some new +language, Greek, for instance, which you were always desirous of +learning. I think you could easily get a teacher, if you wanted one. If +you would give two hours a day to that, and the other hour, when you +had it to spare, to natural history or chemistry, I think you would +find at the end of the year that you had accomplished a good deal." + +"It looks very pretty," said Charlotte, "but I am afraid it would not +work very well. I should be liable to so many interruptions. There is +always shopping and sewing to be done and a hundred things to break up +one's plans." + +"Well, then, when it is necessary, you must be content to give way for +a little, and begin again. Half a loaf is better than no bread, as the +proverb says." + +"Lord Chesterfield says it is vulgar to use proverbs," observed +Charlotte. + +"It is very convenient," returned Olive, laughing. + +"And besides, I don't believe I should ever have perseverance enough +to carry out such a plan, without some one to make me," continued +Charlotte. + +"'Lead thine own captivity captive, and be Caesar unto thyself.' There +is a grand quotation for you to set off against the vulgarity of the +proverb. You would gain a great deal more by disciplining yourself, +than if some body did it for you. And besides, Charlotte, system ought +to be a means, and not an end. There is no particular use in being +systematical for the mere sake of system." + +"I have a great mind to try it," said Charlotte, doubtfully. "This +will be a good time to begin, because there will be no more parties. I +wonder what mother would say. I do not believe she will like the idea +of my studying Greek." + +"Then take something else—Spanish or German. You have never learnt +German, and there is nothing more interesting to study. But I do not +believe she will have any objections to your learning Greek, if you +wish to." + +"I wish you were going to be here to study with me," said Charlotte. + +"I wish I were, for more reasons than one," returned Olive, sighing, +"but I have made an engagement, and I must keep it. Not that I am sick +of the idea of teaching," she added, seeing Charlotte smile. "On the +contrary, I like the prospect better than ever before, but I feel as if +I were wanted here." + +"You must not be too anxious about Abby," said Charlotte. "I do not +believe any harm will come of it. She is a dear little creature, and +always ready to do any thing one wants her to. I think she is willing +to obey, from the very fact that it is less trouble than to have +her own way. You know mother is very fond of her, and she will take +excellent care of her." + +"I know that, Charlotte, but I don't think you can tell how I feel +towards Abby. She seems more like a child than a sister. I should never +consent to leave her with any one else but aunt Rebecca." + +Charlotte looked at Olive in her intent way, as though she meant to +read her through and through. "I believe you are sincere," she said at +last, "but I must say I wonder at your feeling so. I do not think my +mother has ever treated you in a manner to attach you to her." + +"Your mother has done a great deal for me, more than I have always +appreciated at the time," said Olive, remembering how excessively +jealous Charlotte used to be during their school-days, lest her +mother's kindness should be undervalued. "She has never intended any +thing but kindness, I am sure, and if she has sometimes said things +that made me unhappy at the time, I should be very ungrateful to lay +them up. I was sorry to disoblige her by the course I took, and I +should not have decided as I did, had I not been perfectly certain that +it was for the best." + +"It is for the best," replied Charlotte, "and I have no doubt that +mother will feel it so after a while, if she does not now. And do not +distress yourself about Abby. As I said before, she is growing older +every day. We will all take good care of her, and Mr. Forester will be +out of the way, I presume, before long. I am sure no harm will come to +her." + +Olive felt a great deal of comfort from Charlotte's kindness and +consideration, and only hoped it would be continued to her sister, +while she was absent. + +Abby herself seemed less capricious, and more inclined to be +reasonable, than for some time past. She sought her sister's society +constantly, and was even more affectionate and good humored than usual. +Mr. Forester continued to be a frequent visitor, and Mrs. Merton began +to raise her eyebrows and show signs of discontent when he appeared. + +Once, when he came home with Abby about dusk, and it appeared +accidentally that they had taken a long walk together, aunt Rebecca +gave her youngest niece quite a serious lecture about encouraging such +an idle young man, and giving occasion to gossip. As Abby listened +in submissive silence, without any of her usual petty petulance and +impatience, and before the discourse was half ended, burst into a flood +of tears, Mrs. Merton thought she had said all that was necessary. +So she kissed the little weeping beauty, assuring her that she was +not angry with her, but merely wished her to be careful what she did, +and that she should never suspect her of any thing really improper or +underhanded. + +Poor Abby cried more than ever, and as soon as she was alone, she threw +herself upon the bed and cried herself to sleep. + + + +CHAPTER FIFTH. + +EVERY BODY knows how fast vacation-time speeds away. Olive could hardly +tell what had become of hers, but the fact was plain that it was gone, +and that only one week intervened before she was to enter upon a new +and untried mode of life, in a new place and among entire strangers. + +The only people in Basswoods that she had ever seen were Mr. and Mrs. +Gregory, the pastor and his wife, who had called upon her at Mrs. +Granger's after she had accepted the invitation of the trustees. Mr. +Gregory was a very pleasant elderly man, apparently possessing a good +deal of cultivation, and his wife seemed a very nice, lively little +person. Olive thought she should like them very much. + +But with all this, and with all the courage she could muster, her heart +sunk not a little sometimes, as she thought of the prospects before +her. The conviction that she was in the right course did not, however, +vary a moment, nor did her faith in Him who giveth strength according +to the day. For Olive's faith was neither a mental abstraction nor a +vague feeling; if there was any one fact of which she felt absolutely +certain, it was that God sitteth upon the throne of his mercy, always +hearing, and invariably answering the prayer of humility and love, +unless in cases where refusing is kinder than giving. + +She felt no more doubt that he would give her the strength necessary +for her duty, than she felt that he had given her duties to perform. +She had always prayed much, but never so much as now, and in an +especial manner did she commend her sister Abby to Him who is the +father of the fatherless. By earnest devotion—by her consciousness that +she was acting rightly, and by resolutely looking at the bright side +of the picture, she was able to overcome all forebodings and to pack +her trunks when the time came, with a cheerful though somewhat anxious +heart. + +She expected to leave early in the morning with a gentleman from +Basswoods, who was to pass through on the cars. Her uncle had intended +to accompany her himself, and see her comfortably settled in her new +home, but an important law-suit called him in another direction a day +or two before the time came. He bade Olive good-by with a great deal +of affection, telling her that she must write very often, be sure to +come home at once if she got sick, or if she did not find herself as +comfortable as she expected, and at parting, put into her hands a +little package, with requisitions not to open it till she reached her +journey's end. + +Abby was very desirous to know what was inside this mysterious +parcel, and showed so much anxiety about it, that Olive put it away +in her trunk, in order, as she said, to put temptation out of her +way. Aunt Merton made her a present of a very handsome and commodious +writing-desk, well supplied with all sorts of pretty stationery, and +moreover filled a new work-box with a great store of pins, needles, +tape, thread, every thing of the kind, in short, which she could be +expected to want for a twelvemonth and more. Her wardrobe had again +been put in complete order, by Mrs. Merton's directions, and in fact, +no school-teacher ever left home, for the first time, under more +favorable auspices. + +To Olive's vexation, Mr. Forester came in, and spent the very last +evening she was to have at home. He did not seem to have the least idea +of being in the way, and made great efforts to be entertaining. Abby +was alone in the parlor when he came in, and when Olive entered, they +were standing by the window, very closely engaged in conversation: she +even thought he had Abby's hand in his, but if so, it was very quickly +withdrawn, and Mr. Forester, turning round, began talking with his +usual ease and politeness. + +Olive felt vexed both at him and Abby, and all her efforts could not +make her as cordial as she wished. Abby was constrained and silent, but +that perhaps was no more than was natural. Mr. Forester staid quite +late, much to Olive's annoyance, and Mrs. Merton exclaimed against his +want of tact. Contrary to her habit, Abby did not say one word in his +defense, though she colored and looked very much disturbed: in fact, +she had seemed upon the brink of a fit of crying the whole evening +through. + +As usual upon such occasions, every one declared that Olive ought to go +to bed early that she might be quite fresh for her journey next day. +And as usual, every one found so many last words to say, that it was +full an hour later that common before the family retired. + +When the sisters were alone together, Abby seemed still less inclined +for conversation, and yet there appeared to be something upon her mind +which she wished to express. She answered yes and no at random to +Olive's remarks, curled and uncurled her hair half a dozen times, and +was so absent that Olive exclaimed, half-amused and half-vexed: + +"Why, Abby, I don't believe you know what you are doing." + +"I don't," said Abby shortly and in a tone which made Olive look at her +in surprise. She paused a moment, nervously folding a piece of paper in +her fingers, and then proceeded abruptly: + +"You may as well know the truth, Olive, first as last. I promised +William I would not tell any one else, but I must tell you." + +"Tell me what?" eked Olive in amazement and terror; for Abby's color +varied every instant, from deep crimson to pale as ashes, and she shook +in every limb. + +"What is the matter with you?" + +Abby made another effort, and succeeded in saying, though in a voice +which did not sound the least like her own: "I am engaged to be +married, Olive!" + +Then as though the great difficulty were passed, she went on more +calmly. "I meant to tell you before, but William was anxious it should +be kept secret for the present. He would have preferred to have it +remain so, till you came back at any rate, but I felt as though I could +not have you go away—" She relapsed into silence again, busying herself +aimlessly with her curls. + +Olive had seated herself upon the side of the bed: she felt as though +she could not stand. But she saw how agitated Abby was, and with a +strong effort, she preserved her own calmness. + +"Engaged to whom?" she asked quietly. + +"To William Forester, of course," returned Abby pettishly; "who else +should it be?" + +"How long have you been engaged to him?" pursued Olive. + +"Ever since the day aunt Rebecca made such a fuss about our walking +together—the day we went to the cemetery," answered Abby, with a degree +of impatience. In fact, the great effort Olive was making to preserve +her composure, rendered her tone more severe than she was aware of. + +"Why did you not tell me before?" she asked again. + +"You had better ask why I tell you now," exclaimed Abby, angrily, +throwing down her brush, and turning round. "William told me you would +not have any sympathy with me, and advised me not to say a word to +you, and I see he was right. I don't know why you should sit there and +question me in that cold severe tone, as though you had authority over +me for life and death. I am not accountable to you." + +"Hush, Abby," said Olive, in a tone which now certainly trembled +sufficiently; "do not let us make matters worse by quarrelling. I don't +mean to be severe, but I am perfectly overwhelmed. Why, that is six +weeks ago!" + +"Yes, and I wondered at your not suspecting us, though I was very glad +you did not." + +"I have not been used to watching you in order find out your secrets, +Abby," said Olive, more and more agitated. "You have always been as +open as day before. Why should Mr. Forester be so anxious to have you +conceal such a thing your best friends?" + +"He does not want any one to know it at present," replied Abby +evasively. + +"But why? I should think the honorable way would have been for him to +go at once to my uncle, mention the matter to him, and ask his consent, +as he is your guardian, and has always been as kind as the kindest +father to you." + +"You don't know any thing about such things, Olive. You never were in +love, and I don't believe you ever will be." + +"Perhaps not," returned Olive, "but I know what is right, and +straightforward, and gentlemanly, and the course which Mr. Forester has +taken does not seem to me to be either." + +"William says my uncle is prejudiced against him, and you know he is, +yourself." + +"I don't know any such thing. My uncle is not apt to be prejudiced +against people, and if he were, it makes no difference in your duty. +Why should he have a prejudice against Mr. Forester?" + +"He says William is idle," returned Abby, "because he does not choose +to pin himself down to the office, and let all his fine talents wither +away, while he is poring over stupid law-books. When he brought up +those beautiful outline drawings the other night, uncle just asked +him how much time they had taken from Blackstone. As though a man of +his genius were going to be fettered in that way. Besides, he has no +need to apply himself as the rest of the young men do, when he is so +much quicker than they are. But there is no use in talking to you," +she added, turning away. "You do not understand William nor me. We +understand each other, that is our comfort, and it is about the only +one I have." + +"No doubt," said Olive bitterly, "this stranger, whom you have not +known six months at the outside, understands you much better than +your sister, who has been with you, and cared for you, ever since you +were born. It does seem to me that my affection is likely to be as +disinterested as his." + +"You have never been in love," Abby repeated, "and you can not +understand the matter." + +"Very well, we will take that for granted. I have never been in love, +and therefore can not enter into your feeling, but I am none the less +able to see what is right, and I can never believe it is an honorable +proceeding, to gain the affections of a young girl, hardly seventeen +years old, and entangle her in an engagement, which is to be kept +secret from her friends for an indefinite length of time." + +"Please to remember, Olive, that you are speaking of my affianced +husband," said Abby, with flashing eyes, "and that I will not listen to +one word to his disadvantage." + +"Very well," said Olive, after a moment's reflection, "I will say no +more about him. It may be that he has only erred in judgment. But how +long is this secrecy to continue, Abby?" + +"I don't know—I have never thought." + +"Then pray, my dearest child, do think before this affair goes any +farther. You know how clear-sighted uncle and aunt Merton are." + +"I can not compliment aunt Rebecca upon being very clear-sighted," +said Abby, laughing. "If she had been, she might have seen before this +time that there was something in the wind. How gravely she lectured me +that night," she continued, with an amusing imitation of Mrs. Merton's +impressive manner. "I must be careful, or people would make remarks +about me. It would be very unpleasant, and a great disadvantage to me +to have any report of an engagement get abroad. I should think she +would have seen then, that something unusual was the matter." + +"I presume the possibility of your wishing to deceive her, never +entered her mind," said Olive gravely, vexed almost beyond endurance +by Abby's unreasonable levity. "But you must know, Abby, that things +can not go on so. There are aunt Dimsden and Laura always upon the +watch too. Suppose her suspicions are aroused, and she speaks to uncle +Merton, or tells the story to every one, till it gets to his ears from +some other quarter. What will you do when he calls you to account about +it? You know he can not endure any thing like slyness, even in the +smallest matters." + +"I don't know," said Abby lightly, but sighing at the same time. "I +must trust William to get me out of the scrape, some way or other. +Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." + +"Quite sufficient, I should think. Just consider how you will be +situated, with your mind burdened with a secret which you are +constantly afraid of having found out, obliged to resort to all sorts +of subterfuges: you may even be driven to downright untruth before you +know it." + +Abby sighed deeply. She was conscious of having transgressed in this +respect more than once already. Olive hoped she had gained a little +advantage. + +"I am sure, Abby, you can not be happy living in this way," she said. + +"I don't expect to be happy, except when I am with William," replied +Abby. "Then I forget that there is any thing like discomfort or misery, +in the world; he is so kind and good. He makes me feel like another +being—so elevated. I feel above all earthly cares and trammels." + +"And duties too," thought Olive, but she did not say so. As she became +cooler, she saw that she had made a great mistake in speaking so +severely of Mr. Forester. It was necessary, above all things, for her +to gain Abby's confidence, and this was not the way to do it. Abby +continued: + +"When I am away from him, I expect to be more or less unhappy, of +course; 'the course of true love never did run smooth,' you know. But +for all that, I would not give him up; No, not if every friend I have +in the world should set himself against him." + +Olive sighed at the infatuation as it seemed to her, of her sister. "I +do wish you would tell uncle all about it," she said earnestly. + +"I dare not," replied Abby, turning pale at the very idea. "He would be +so angry!" + +"What will he be if he finds it out for himself, and discovers that you +have been deceiving him all the time?" + +"How you do harp upon deception," said Abby. "It is not deceiving him +to tell him nothing about it." + +"O Abby! You would not have made that distinction a year ago." + +"I was a child, and afraid to say my soul was my own, a year ago—but, +at any rate, I shall not tell him." + +"Then let me—he will not be at home, but I can write to him." + +"Indeed you must not!" returned Abby, in great alarm. "William would +be very angry. It was as much as I could do, to gain his consent for +telling you. Promise me that you will not say a word about it!" + +"I can not make such a promise," said Olive; "It does not seem right. +Mr. Forester ought to tell uncle Merton himself." + +"Do you suppose, Olive," asked Abby, "that it would be very pleasant +for a man of William's delicate feelings and exquisite refinement, +to expose himself to the questionings and reproofs of such a cold, +practical, middle-aged man as my uncle, who judges of every thing in +the world by two touchstones—common-sense and duty?" + +"And very good touchstones I consider them," returned Olive. "But +pleasant or not pleasant, it is the part of an honest man to do it. I +can not give my consent to any such secret arrangement, Abby; it is +altogether wrong. I am sure your own conscience can not approve of it." + +"Conscience, conscience, Olive! How you do go over that word. I can +tell you, sister mine, that there are instincts and feelings in the +human soul, which will not be chained down by old-fashioned trammels +of conscience and duty, and such catch-words. Once for all, I tell you +that you can not understand my feelings, because you have never been in +love yourself, and so there is no use talking to you. I am sorry you +feel hurt at my silence, and I should have told you before, if William +had been willing, but he was not. He wishes the affair to be kept still +till he shall have finished his studies, or else till he gets engaged +in some other business; for he begins to think the law will never suit +him, it is so confining. Then, you know, he is not dependent on his +profession entirely: his father left him ten thousand dollars." + +"But that was some time ago, and in the way he has lived, he must have +spent a good deal." + +"Of course, he does not intend to depend entirely upon that. He means +to do something, and he does not wish to have this matter talked of +till he is settled. Then, of course, he expects to ask my uncle in +form. Oh! You will see it will all come out right, if you will only +let us have our own way about it: we shall be nicely fixed by and +by, in a house of our own, with pictures and books, and every thing +delightful inside and out; and you shall come and live with us, instead +of drudging at school-teaching. And there," said Abby, catching at +any shade of self-justification, "when you took up this notable +school-keeping scheme, you acted as much for yourself as I am doing." + +"But in a very different way, Abby," replied Olive. "Before I took one +single step in the matter, or even made up my own mind, I wrote to +uncle about it, and I have not done a single thing, from first to last, +without his knowledge and consent. If he had opposed it, I should have +given it up, or at least have waited till I was twenty-one. Besides, +teaching is not like getting married. If I find that I can not be +useful or happy in it, I can stop." + +"What are you talking about, girls?" asked aunt Rebecca's voice of +authority, at the door. "You ought to have been asleep an hour ago. +Olive, do not let me hear another word to-night." + +There was nothing for it to obey, and where was the use of talking? +Nothing that Olive could say, seemed to make any impression. She had +always pleased herself with the idea that Abby's disposition was so +easy and yielding that there would be no difficulty in guiding her +aright, and that she was naturally so open, that no secrets could exist +between them. Now she found out her mistake. The yielding disposition +was only yielding in matters which Abby did not care any thing about, +or which she thought not worth the trouble of a contradiction. Her +frankness was only a habit and not a principle, and yielded to the +first temptation. She was completely bewildered and dazzled by the +sentimental sophistry of her accomplished admirer, with whom she was +really as much in love as a girl of seventeen is capable of being. + +Of course, she could see nothing save perfection, in Mr. Forester. He +was really an interesting and agreeable man, and, as is the case with +almost every girl who falls in love, she invested him with all those +attributes of manly excellence which existed only in her own mind. +Olive's arguments made but little impression upon her. She took refuge +in the idea, which indeed had some truth in it, that Olive had never +been in love, and therefore could not understand her feelings. When +she was absolutely driven into a corner, and forced to reflect, she +could not but acknowledge to herself that she occupied an unpleasant +and somewhat undignified position, and that the course she was pursuing +was not likely to end in any thing desirable. But she comforted herself +with the idea, "that it would all come right in the end—that she should +get through with it some way." + +Olive, on her part, was thoroughly perplexed, and almost for the +first time in her life, could not see her duty plain before her. If +her uncle had been at home, she almost thought she should have gone +straight to him, and told him the whole story. And yet—she had properly +no authority over Abby, and what right had she to betray her secret? +If she had had more time, she would have talked to Mr. Forester, and +endeavored to prevail upon him to take an open and manly course. But +she had no time—there was the great trouble. Her uncle was not at home. +Even should she think it best to speak to Mrs. Merton, there would be +no opportunity, and moreover, she was very doubtful of the expediency +of such a step. + +What could she—what ought she to do? She thought it over and over, and +prayed for light, but she could see none, except that she felt more +and more as though Mr. Merton ought to be informed, but then—could +she betray her sister? She knew her uncle well, and she felt sick as +she thought how angry he would be with Abby. She could not sleep, and +was so restless, that she awoke her companion, who asked what was the +matter. + +"I am thinking about this miserable business, Abby. Do promise me that +you will tell uncle all about it when he comes home, or persuade Mr. +Forester to tell him. I am sure it is the only right way." + +"Dear me, are you worrying over that yet?" said Abby sleepily. "I wish +I had not told you, since you are so distressed about it." + +"But will you tell uncle?" + +"Yes, if I can, or I will get William to. Now do go to sleep, like a +dear child." + +Olive turned and tossed, and finally fell into troubled slumber, which +seemed to have lasted about five minutes, when she was awakened by Mrs. +Merton's hand and voice. + +"I have allowed you to sleep just as long as I dare, my dear. You will +have no more than time to dress, and get your breakfast comfortably. I +will finish your packing myself." + +Olive sprang up, and was soon dressed. She meant to have risen early, +but her restless night had defeated her plans, and before she had +finished her prayers, Mrs. Merton's voice was again heard at the door. +The breakfast was very inviting, but she could take nothing except a +cup of coffee. + +Aunt Rebecca busied herself in putting a provision of sandwiches and +cakes into her travelling-bag, and in looking to see that nothing had +been left. Charlotte sat by, grave and silent, except when she sharply +reproved Abby for crying, and making Olive cry too. + +Contrary to Olive's expectations, they had some time to spare at +the dépôt, and the first person they saw was Mr. Forester, who was +evidently waiting for them. She would have given a great deal to have +been able to say a few words to him in private, but there seemed to be +no opportunity. + +At last he contrived to get between her and her aunt, and said in the +same moment, in a low tone: "I suppose Abby has told you?" + +"Yes," returned Olive. + +"I hope her course has your approval," he said carelessly. + +"I can not say—I think you should have spoken to my uncle," replied +Olive. And then, seeing that Mrs. Merton's attention was still +occupied, she added, earnestly: "Do be open with him, and allow Abby to +be so: it is the only right—the only honorable way." + +Mr. Forester colored deeply, and his eyes flashed fire; he seemed about +to make an angry reply, but controlled himself, and merely said in a +tone of hauteur: "Pardon me, if I esteem myself the best judge of that +matter, Miss McHenry. But as your sister's confiding disposition has +foolishly placed her secret in your hands, you will no doubt use it as +suits your purpose; and Abby will find out her folly too late." + +"Late!" said Mrs. Merton catching the last word. "Are we late?" + +"No, ma'am, the cars are late—ten minutes behind time at least. Ah! +Here they come at last." + +"Miss McHenry here?" said an elderly gentleman entering the ladies' +room. "Ah! Good morning, ma'am. Mrs. Merton I presume I have the +pleasure of addressing—and which of these young ladies am I to take in +charge?" + +Mrs. Merton presented Miss McHenry. Jones bowed and shook hands. + +"We have no time to lose, Miss McHenry. Have you your checks and +tickets? All right—come then, bid good-by all—good morning, Madam—" And +almost before Olive knew where she was, she was out of the dépôt, and +whirling along at lightning speed through the country. + +Mr. Jones was a kindly, fatherly sort of man, one of those old +gentlemen who always call all young girls "my dear," and take pleasure +in petting them. He was very kind to Olive, provided her with a new +magazine from a small library of such things which he seemed to have +with him, left her to herself for a while, as he saw that her heart +and eyes were full to overflowing; and when he perceived that she was +becoming more composed, pointed out all the objects of particular +interest on the road, talked to her about the place she came from, +and the one she was going to, and made himself so agreeable that she +several times found herself forgetting her great trouble for as much as +ten minutes together. + +She found considerable amusement in watching the people in the cars, +who presented the usual variety. There was a returned Californian going +home with his wife, who had evidently been down to the seaboard to meet +him. He was a great rough six-footer of a man, bearded like the pard, +and full of strength and spirits; and it was quite touching to see the +way in which he caressed and petted his delicate little wife, something +as though he was afraid of breaking her by too rough handling. There +were of course two or three bashful and blushing brides, and still +more bashful and awkward grooms, looking as though they thought all +the world must know that they were just married. Then there were a +thoughtful father and mother, with a tribe of handsome boys and girls +going to settle at the West, all merry, good-natured, and full of +spirits. + +And finally, a couple of would-be fine ladies from some Western city, +full of second-hand airs, and last year's finery, who amused themselves +the whole way, in talking over their own and their neighbors' family +quarrels—how Rebecca Coleman made a party, and did not ask the speaker, +though she invited George's wife; and what she said to George about it, +and what George said to her; how the refreshments were poor and scanty, +and Rebecca only attended to those that she liked; how the minister's +wife wore feathers in her bonnet, and made a great many visits, and how +the minister himself encouraged pauperism by relieving the poor; how +easy it was to deceive him, and how he had spoken of a clergyman of +another denomination as an intelligent and gentlemanly man—it was even +reported that he said 'fellow.' Olive thought the minister was to be +pitied, who numbered such a party of ill-natured detractors among his +flock. + +As it drew towards night, Olive began to think less of those she had +left behind, and to feel a little anxious respecting the people she +was soon to meet, and among whom her hope was to be, for the next +five months at least. A boarding-place had been provided for her by +the care of Mr. Gregory, and she tried to find out something about +it from Mr. Jones, but without much success. He could or would tell +her nothing more than they were very nice people, and lived in one +of the pleasantest places in Basswood. Upon farther questioning, she +discovered that the family consisted of an elderly man and his wife, +and one daughter, who was too old to go to school. In fact, it soon +became obvious to her, that while Mr. Jones was delighted to give her +descriptions of the situation, scenery, and manufactures of Basswoods, +he was resolutely determined to say nothing about the people, and Olive +could not help admiring his prudence and discretion, at the same time +that she felt a little vexed at it. + +At the last station, Mr. Jones informed her that they had only thirty +miles father to go, and her eyes were soon abundantly occupied in +studying the picturesque and beautiful valley through which they were +passing. By and by, the train came to a full stop—then backed—then went +on, and finally stopped again. + +Olive looked out; there seemed nothing to stop for. They were in a +deep, narrow valley, shut in by high mountains, and nothing like a +settlement was visible. + +Mr. Jones got up and went to the door, but he could see nothing to +account for the delay, so he sat down again. + +By and by the conductor came along, and, on being interrogated, +informed them that they were behind time, and must wait for another +train. + +"How long?" inquired several gentlemen, anxiously. + +"Perhaps five minutes—perhaps an hour. As soon as the up-train has +passed, we shall be able to go on, but we must wait an hour for them; +after that, we shall have a right to the road." + +Various opinions now made themselves heard. Mr. Jones said that they +should not get to their destination till late, but considered that +even that was better than running any risk. The Californian thought +the whole thing rather "slow," but was not disposed to grumble at any +thing, and having made acquaintance with the boys opposite, began +telling them bear-hunting and gold-digging stories, with infinite +good-nature, and a vast amount of odd expressions and California slang. +The Western ladies looked at him and the whole party, as though they +had been their natural, born enemies, especially when the boys laughed, +which, it must be confessed, they did somewhat uproariously. + +Their husbands thought the conductor ought to go on at any rate, even +at the imminent risk of being run over, which would be incomparably +less of an evil than waiting an hour. + +"Would you not like to go to the end, and look out, my dear?" said Mr. +Jones to Olive. "It will be less fatiguing than sitting still, though +there is not much to see." + +Olive could not agree that there was very little to see, when she +stepped out upon the platform. They were in a very narrow valley, +between two high, rocky ridges, which almost deserved the name of +mountains. There seemed hardly more than room for the road and the +stream, which murmured and foamed along, as though hurrying to escape +from such confined quarters. The sun was just dropping behind the +western hills, which were very steep, and clothed with dark evergreens, +made still more sombre by the deep shadows. While the eastern +mountains, glowing with all the magnificent coloring of beech, maple, +and graceful birch, with here and there a sumach burning like a living +fire, was lighted by the whole blaze of sunset. + +Mr. Jones smiled at Olive's exclamations of delight. + +"You are an enthusiast about such things," he said. "I used to be +myself when I was young, but I have had it a good deal driven out of +me, I am sorry to say. But I am glad you are fond of mountains, for you +will see enough of them. I love them like old friends, for I was born +among them." + +Olive found the hour pass very pleasantly in watching the changes of +light and shade on the hill-tops and in the valley, and in listening to +her companion's reminiscences of the early settlement of the country. +She felt almost sorry when the train went on again, and she began to +feel that every moment brought her nearer to her journey's end. + +At last came the long whistle which announced that the station was +in sight. The people who were going to stop began to gather up their +shawls and bags, and to look out their checks. And those who were going +on felicitated themselves with the idea of a hot supper. + +She soon found herself in a carriage with her kind companion, who +insisted on going with her to the house, and introducing her to her +host and hostess. Olive was very thankful: she was vexed to find +herself trembling and agitated, when she meant to be very calm and +composed. The carriage stopped at the gate of a very pretty two-story +brick house, a good deal shaded, which was all she could see by +moonlight. + +A light streamed out from the hall-door, and two or three figures +appeared at it, showing that she was expected. + +"Good-evening, Mrs. Felton," said Mr. Jones; "I have brought your new +inmate, you see, and I hope you have some supper for her. I am sure she +must be starving." + +Mrs. Felton came forward, and shook hands kindly with Olive, +introducing her to her husband at the same time—a ceremony from which +that gentleman received but little benefit, as he was out at the +gate, superintending the removal of the baggage. Mrs. Felton was a +middle-aged, meek-looking woman, with mild hazel eyes, and a certain +nervous, undecided expression. + +"Supper—yes, certainly. So you have had no supper, but we waited so +long, I am afraid every thing is quite spoiled. I guess I had better +get something fresh. Ruth!" + +"Pray do not take any trouble for me," said Olive, who did not feel +very much like eating, being conscious of a certain hysterical feeling +in her throat; "I am not hungry." + +"But you must be hungry, because you have been travelling all day," +insisted Mrs. Felton, argumentatively; "people are always hungry when +they have been travelling." + +And, having asked Mr. Jones to stay to supper, and telling her husband, +who was still invisible, to take the trunks up-stairs, Mrs. Felton +led the way into the dining-room—a very cheerful apartment, furnished +with easy-looking, odd-shaped, rush-bottomed, and closely-wound chairs +and sofas; a tall, old-fashioned mahogany clock, with a marvellously +painted and gilded face, ticked in the corner; some curious old prints +and paintings upon glass ornamented the walls; and a beautiful large +white cat sat composedly on a chair at the corner of the supper-table, +as though she had taken her usual place, and was waiting for the rest +of the company. + +"I kept the table standing because I thought you might not have had +your supper, you see," pursued Mrs. Felton, in a mild, purring kind +of voice. "There! Sit down in the rocking-chair, and let me take your +bonnet. Your room is all ready for you, but perhaps you will not like +it. I thought the front-chamber was the pleasantest, because you can +see every one that passes, but Ruth liked the back one the best—Ruth!" + +"Yes, mother," replied the individual so often called, in a cheerful +voice, entering at the same time, with a waiter full of smoking dishes, +"I only waited to fry two or three eggs, and get out the hot biscuits—I +laid some by on purpose. How do you do, Miss McHenry?" she continued, +without waiting for an introduction. "Tired enough, of course! Don't +move," she continued, setting down her dishes; "I will push the table +up to you." And she suited the action to the word, before Olive had +time to remonstrate, and handed her a cup of fragrant tea, begging her +to help herself to an egg and a piece of ham. + +Olive had really believed that she was not hungry, but every thing was +so very nice and inviting, that she felt her appetite return, and ate a +hearty supper, to the evident delight of her hostess. + +As soon as she had finished, Ruth asked her if she would not like +to go to her room. "It is all ready, and I am sure you will be glad +to be quiet," she said, as she lighted a candle in a queer little +old-fashioned silver candlestick; "I will show you the way." + +Every thing looked inviting in the room whither Olive was conducted. It +was large and high, but full curtains and a warm-colored carpet gave it +an air of comfort. An old-fashioned toilet and glass stood between the +windows: an equally antiquated book-case filled up one recess of the +chimney, and a commodious table and chair the other. + +Ruth set down the candle, and sweeping a comprehensive glance around +the room to see that all was right, bade Olive good-night, begging not +to hurry herself in the morning, as the school did not begin till the +next day, and she would have plenty of time for unpacking. + +Olive certainly did not feel inclined to any extra exertion. She +took out what she wanted for the night, and unpacked her Bible and +prayer-book, and, despite all the varied excitements of the day, she +was asleep before her head touched the pillow. + + + +CHAPTER SIXTH. + +OLIVE slept late the next morning, and when she awoke from a dream of +home, she could hardly understand for a moment, where she was. It was +some little time before she could arouse herself sufficiently to rise +and put back the window-curtain. It was one of the softest mornings of +early autumn. The window looked toward the east, across the not very +wide valley in which the village lay, to a high, bold, rocky eminence, +which bounded it on that side, while here and there she caught glimpses +of the same sparkling and rapid stream, which they had seen so often +the day before, now augmented to a considerable river. She could not +see much of the village, though two or three large old-fashioned +farmhouses were in sight around the edges of the valley. + +She had finished dressing, and was standing at the open window enjoying +the fresh air and the prospect, so different from any thing to which +she had been accustomed, when a light tap was heard at the door and +Ruth entered. + +"I heard you stirring," she said, half-apologetically, "and came up to +see if you wanted any help. We thought we would not wake you. I hope +you feel rested?" + +Ruth Felton had one of those faces which it is impossible to see +without loving. She was far from handsome, being small and thin, with +rather a sallow complexion, and no special pretensions to elegance or +grace, but whenever she came into a room she seemed to bring sunshine +with her. There was something in her expression so cheerful and bright, +so thoroughly good and withal so earnest and full of helpfulness, +that every one with whom she came in contact felt influence, and +owned its power. She possessed moreover that not exceedingly common +gift, a remarkably sweet voice; truly, an excellent thing in woman. +Ruth was not young, and there were various signs and tokens about her +which seemed to show that she was verging towards an old maid. Many +people wondered why she had never married, but when questioned upon +the subject, she always laughed her bright, cheery laugh, and said she +never had had time. + +"School begins to-morrow," said Ruth, as they went down-stairs +together, "and I suppose you may expect a call from Mr. Prendergrass +to-day." + +"Who is Mr. Prendergrass?" asked Olive. + +"Why, the principal of the Academy; is it possible you have had so +little curiosity as not to ask the name of your associate?" + +"I believe I have heard it before," replied Olive, coloring a little, +"but I have had so many things to think of." + +"Yes, I dare say," said Ruth. "But you will soon learn all about the +things and the people with whom you have to do. I suppose you are ready +for your breakfast?" she added, as they entered the dining-room. + +"Have you had breakfast?" asked Olive, seeing only a small round table +set by the window. + +"Oh! Yes, two hours ago. We breakfast at half-past six in summer, and +at seven in winter. I am afraid our hours will be too early for you." + +"Oh! No; I was accustomed to early hours at school, but aunt Merton has +spoiled me a little, since I have been at home. What a beautiful puss!" +she continued, as the white cat she had seen the night before roused +herself from a comfortable nap, and came gravely forward to pay her +respects. + +"I hope you like cats," said Ruth; "Jenny is a great pet, and to say +the truth, a little spoiled. She is the descendant of a cat that my +brother brought home from Bombay, and my mother values her on that +account. But if you find her troublesome, you must drive her away." + +Olive had no great fear of finding the pretty creature troublesome, for +she loved pets of every description, and had more than once incurred +aunt Rebecca's displeasure, by patronizing stray kittens and forlorn +puppies. + +Jenny was very ready to be taken up, and they were having a fine game +at play, when Ruth entered with the breakfast, followed by Mrs. Felton +with a work-basket. + +"Ruth," said the latter, in a tone of mild remonstrance, which somehow +made Olive feel nervous, "you shouldn't let that cat trouble Miss +McHenry." + +"She does not trouble me," said Olive; "I am very fond of cats." + +"You are very kind to say so," returned Mrs. Felton, with an expression +of gentle incredulity, "but a great many people don't like them, and I +never want any thing belonging to me to be troublesome or intrusive. I +never want to be myself. For that reason I did not go up to your room +this morning. I felt that you would come down when you got ready, but +Ruth thought differently." + +Mrs. Felton never thought, she only felt; and she had no opinions, but +only feelings. + +Olive glanced at Ruth, expecting to see some signs of annoyance, but +none were visible. She busied herself in setting the table in order. +And inviting Olive to seat herself at it, she placed herself at the +coffee-urn—a curious, little old-fashioned institution of plated ware +with a gilded ivory pine-apple upon the top—and said grace in a very +grave, unaffected manner. After which, she proceeded to pour out the +coffee, Mrs. Felton murmuring away all the time, partly, as it seemed, +to herself and partly to her companions. + +"I suppose you rested well, Miss McHenry? At least, I hope you did." + +"Oh! Yes," replied Olive, smiling; "only I slept rather too long. I am +quite rested this morning." + +"You are a good sleeper, I suppose. I am not," said the lady, as she +threaded her needle. "I never get any sleep till towards morning, and +yet it is very singular how Mr. Felton will always insist that I sleep +all night. I am sure I don't know how he can tell, for he never wakes +up from the time he goes to bed till he gets up again. I suppose you +have never been away from home before?" + +"Oh! Yes; I have been at school a great deal," replied Olive, "though +to be sure, I have always had my sister and cousin with me." And she +sighed for the tenth time as she thought of poor Abby. + +"No doubt you will miss them very much," continued Mrs. Felton. "It +is a sad thing to have none of one's relations near one. I have never +seen any of mine since I was married. Indeed, I haven't any nearer than +second cousins, for my mother was an only child and my father had but +one brother, who died at sea. I fear you will be very lonely here after +what you have been accustomed to." + +"Come, mother," said Ruth, cheerfully, "you must not go to making Miss +McHenry home-sick. I think she will find our village a very pleasant +one, and we have plenty of agreeable people, you know. We must not +discourage her at the outset." + +"I don't mean to discourage her, of course," returned the lady in an +injured tone. "I suppose she may like sympathy, though you don't." + +Olive thought she did not either, if this was a specimen. To turn the +conversation, she asked hastily: "Is the Academy far from here?" + +"Only a little way," replied Ruth; "you can see it from the front-door. +It is a very pleasant building, and well fitted up, though one of the +oldest in the place. It was built before the war." + +"How large is the school?" asked Olive. + +"There are usually about fifty in the girls' department, and twice as +many in the other. You will find them pleasant enough for the most +part, though there are a few black sheep, of course." + +"I am sure poor Miss Brown had trouble enough," remarked Mrs. Felton. + +"It was her own fault, mother," said Ruth. "She would go round, talking +about the girls out of school, and telling the whole village of every +little unpleasant circumstance. It is almost as unfortunate for a +teacher to gossip, as for a minister." + +"Is Mr. Gregory in town now?" inquired Olive. + +"He is," replied Ruth. "Do you know him?" + +"He called upon me at Mrs. Granger's, with his wife," said Olive. "I +was very much pleased with him." + +"Almost every body likes Mr. Gregory," remarked Ruth, as she put the +dishes together upon the tray. + +"Why, yes, I suppose they do," said Mrs. Felton; "and I dare say he is +a good man. But I must say, he has very little feeling, and does not +understand my case at all. Would you believe it, Miss McHenry, when I +told him how much I suffered from low spirits and dolts and all sorts +of distressing feelings about myself, instead of sympathizing with me, +he told me he thought I did not take exercise enough, and advised me +to teach a class in Sunday-school. He said he did not think it was a +good thing for people to be always studying over their own feelings. +And when I went to see Mrs. Tower—she is his daughter—at the time her +child died, and was asking her all about little Henrietta's sickness +and death, and telling her of the loss of my own children, and saying +every thing I could think of, to show my sympathy—he as good as told me +to hold my tongue, and let her alone." + +Olive did not wonder at it, but she said nothing in reply, and only +observed that Mrs. Gregory seemed a very pleasant person. Mrs. +Felton allowed that she was, but thought her very gay and frivolous +for a person of her age. She was clearly of the opinion that there +was "nothing so dainty sweet, as lovely melancholy," and no one was +approved by her who had the heartlessness to be gay in this world's +woes. + +Olive began to feel that such a perpetual presence might become very +wearisome after a while, and she wondered how Ruth could preserve her +cheerfulness under it. But Ruth seemed to mind her mother's murmurs no +more than she did the purring of the cat. She again came up to Olive's +room to show her the shelves and drawers, of which there were a great +abundance, and then left her to herself till dinner-time. + +Olive was not very long in unpacking and arranging her matters, though +she lingered a little over her books and drawing materials which were +nicely accommodated in the book-case. A small portrait of her mother, +copied by herself, from the large picture at Mr. Merton's, and one or +two favorite landscapes, found very good lights upon the walls. The +table held her work-box and the new desk very nicely. + +As she opened the latter for the first time, her eye fell upon Mr. +Merton's mysterious packet, which she had quite forgotten. She opened +it, and found a very nice case, containing a handsome gold watch and +chain, exactly such a one as he had presented to Charlotte on her +birth-day, and two bright new twenty-dollar gold pieces, with a kind +note, which, as it was very characteristic of the gentleman, we subjoin. + +"You will want a watch, my dear, by which to regulate your hours, and +I hope you will find this a good one. The gold pieces are to supply +you with any little conveniences, of which you may feel the need. With +regard to your course in your new home, I have but a few words of +advice to give you. Mind your own business—never gossip nor let others +gossip to you: do not be too set in your own way: have patience, but +not mock patience: and look to God in all trials and difficulties." + +Such was Mr. Merton's note, over which Olive shed a few tears. "Oh! If +Abby would only be open with him," she thought, "how much misery it +would save us all." + +She did not dare permit her thoughts to dwell too long upon the +subject, for she felt that she needed all her strength for what +was before her. So she bathed her eyes, dressed herself neatly and +becomingly, and had finished a letter to aunt Rebecca, and begun one to +Abby, before the dinner-bell rung. + +At dinner, she saw the hitherto invisible Mr. Felton—a mild, +good-natured man, with a quiet, subdued manner. Olive thought his +wife's sympathy must have affected him. He was cordial, and entered +into conversation very readily, displaying considerable intelligence. +They had hardly risen from the table, when Mr. and Mrs. Gregory were +announced, and Olive entered the parlor to greet them, with a feeling +that they were old friends. + +Mr. Gregory was all kindness and cordiality. As Olive looked at him, +she did not wonder at his not sympathizing very deeply in Mrs. Felton's +troubles. He looked like a man who had passed through the furnace of +affliction and come out unspoiled, but perhaps a little hardened by +the fire. Suffering was written in every line of his face, but it was +suffering past and gone. + +Half an hour's conversation with him made Olive feel as though she had +found a valuable friend. There was that about him which irresistibly +attracted confidence, and she was almost startled, after he had gone, +to find how freely she had expressed herself. Mrs. Gregory was a +kindly, motherly woman, evidently proud of her husband, and enjoying +full faith in his infallibility. + +After they had gone, Mr. Jones came and brought his two daughters, +pretty, shy girls of fourteen and sixteen, both evidently terribly +afraid of the new school-mistress, who, on her part, was almost equally +afraid of them, though she managed to conceal her trepidation. By some +well-directed questions, she presently had them at their ease and +talking quite fluently. + +White Jenny opportunely walked into the room, suggesting a ready +subject for conversation, and Phebe had grown quite eloquent in +describing a Maltese cat that she had, and a terrier belonging to her +brother, which slept, ate, and hunted rats together, when the door +opened, and Ruth appeared, ushering in a tall gentleman, whom she +introduced to Olive as Mr. Prendergrass. + +The girls were hushed in a moment, and seemed as if looking around +for some place of escape, while Olive rose in some confusion, and put +down white Jenny, to greet her associate in the care of the youth of +Basswoods. + +Mr. Prendergrass was a tall man, very spare and upright. His iron-gray +hair was arranged with mathematical precision, his whiskers ditto. He +wore the neatest of black suits, and the neatest of black gloves, and +his linen was got up to an extent that was quite alarming. There was +a tradition current among the boys that he wore a tin shirt-bosom and +collar, and had once nearly cut off one of his ears with the latter. + +Mr. Prendergrass bowed a solemn bow, and then another, in reply to +Olive's courtesy. Then he sat down, casting rather a nervous glance at +white Jenny, who was amusing herself with the tassels of Miss Jones' +parasol. "I am happy to see you, Miss McHenry," he said, in a tone as +formal as the rest of his appearance. "I hope you have recovered from +the fatigue of your journey?" + +"Quite, thank you," said Olive, wishing she could think of something to +add to it. + +"Did you find your journey agreeable?" inquired Mr. Prendergrass again, +precisely as though he was hearing a lesson. + +"Very much so," replied Olive. "The route is very picturesque." + +"Are not the mountains beautiful, Miss McHenry?" said Anna Jones, +timidly, and coloring as she spoke. + +"Extremely so to me, especially as they were the first I had ever seen. +I longed to make sketches all the way." + +"They are splendid in winter," said Anna, quite enthusiastically. "The +pines look so grand, covered with snow, and the long icicles hanging +from the rocks." She seemed quite frightened at having said so much, +and relapsed into silence and stiffness again. + +Mr. Prendergrass looked as though he thought mountains were frivolous +things. Mr. Jones preserved a provoking taciturnity, and Olive was +wondering what she ought to do or say next, when the youngest Miss +Jones made a furtive poke with her parasol in the direction of the +principal, accompanied by the least possible mischievous glance of her +eye towards her sister. + +Jenny sprang upon the parasol, and Mr. Prendergrass started. + +"Do, do be pleased to dismiss that quadruped," he said, almost +imploringly, to Miss Phebe. "Be quiet, cat, I entreat," he continued, +as Jenny made another jump after the withdrawn parasol. + +Olive caught up the offending animal, and carried her off, and Mr. +Prendergrass appeared much relieved. "I have a great dislike to the +feline race," he observed, reseating himself. "I believe it to be +constitutional. My father was nearly killed by one—a panther, I mean," +he added, looking resentfully at the young ladies, who betrayed some +tendency to giggling. + +Olive was much interested, and related several anecdotes of persons who +were made ill, or otherwise unpleasantly affected by the presence of +cats. Mr. Prendergrass unbent a little, and Olive was surprised to find +that he could talk very well when he was not thinking of himself. + +At last Mr. Jones proposed that they should step over to the academy. +"I should like to have Miss McHenry's opinion of the arrangements in +the girls' room," said he. "She may have some improvements to suggest." + +"The rooms are exactly as they were arranged by the Reverend Mr. +Snowden, sir!" said Mr. Prendergrass, solemnly. + +"Very true, sir, but Miss McHenry may have ways of her own, you know." + +Mr. Prendergrass looked as though the idea of Miss McHenry's having +ways of her own was not agreeable to him, but he only bowed solemnly. + +And the whole party proceeded to the academy. + +It was a pretty, neat building, and Olive was surprised to see it +looking so new and fresh, till she was informed that it had lately been +put in complete repair. The date of 1775 still remained in iron letters +upon each of the gables, and Mr. Jones pointed out, upon one of the +windows, two or three bullet-marks which had been made in a skirmish +with the Indians. + +The upper school-room, appropriated to her use, was a very pleasant +apartment, neatly fitted up with movable desks and chairs, set in rows +across the room. + +On being questioned, Olive admitted that she should prefer a different +disposition. She thought it better that they should be arranged around +the apartment, so that the girls might sit with their faces to the wall. + +"Why, may I inquire, Miss McHenry, do you wish the 'young ladies' to +assume such a position?" said Mr. Prendergrass, somewhat severely, and +with an emphasis on the words "young ladies." + +"I think that it is easier to overlook them, and there is less +temptation to whispering," replied Olive, feeling quite alarmed at her +own temerity. "But perhaps it is only because I am accustomed to such +an arrangement that I prefer it." + +"Very probably, ma'am. Many persons can only like what they are +accustomed to." + +"At the same time," interrupted Mr. Jones, "there is no reason whatever +why Miss McHenry should not have the seats arranged in her own way. I +will come over with the boys and make the alteration." + +"My predecessor, the Rev. Mr. Snowden—" began Mr. Prendergrass. + +"Was a very excellent man, sir, though rather too fond of the rod. +But he has been dead at least fifteen years, and the school has gone +on better without him than ever it did with him. Do you see any other +alterations to suggest, Miss McHenry?" + +Mr. Prendergrass looked on with lowering brows, while Olive went over +the room, and seemed prepared to resign on the instant, if she should +presume to recommend any other innovations. But she saw nothing else to +change. She particularly admired the mat and commodious table and desk +which had been provided for the teachers. It fortunately happened that +this table and all its arrangements had been executed under the eye +of Mr. Prendergrass himself, and from plans of his own. His eyebrows +relaxed, and his manner grew more gracious, and by the time they had +made the rounds of the boys' room, and he had discovered that Olive was +a good Latin scholar, he was as amiable as possible. + +At parting, Olive adverted to her own inexperience, and requested +permission to apply to him in any emergency. Mr. Prendergrass was +evidently highly flattered, and they parted on the best possible terms. + +"He is a good creature, and really talented," said Mr. Jones, as they +walked towards home, the girls having dropped behind, to communicate +with some of their companions. "But you must hold your own with him. +He is rather apt to be overbearing, and thinks every change from the +customs of the Rev. Mr. Snowden must be wrong, of course." + +"I am not sure, but that is better than thinking that every change +must be an improvement," remarked Olive. "I am afraid he was very much +offended about the desks." + +"You need not distress yourself about that," replied her companion. +"By next week, he will imagine the improvement to be his own. With +all his faults, he is an excellent and conscientious man, and manages +the school well. His great trouble is his overweening vanity, and his +desire to have his own way. Every one laughs at him, but he seldom +finds it out. If he does, he never forgives the laughter. I do not +imagine you will have any trouble with him." + +It was nearly tea-time when Olive returned home. She occupied her +evening in finishing her letter to Abby, wherein she exerted all her +eloquence to prevail upon her sister to take a right course. She sent +a civil message to Mr. Forester, feeling that she owed him a little +reparation for her plain speaking, and went to bed with an anxious yet +a hopeful heart. + + +The next morning she was up before the sun. Never had she prayed with +more fervor—never had the promises of Scripture been more full of +comfort and encouragement to her. Her fears and tremors of the day +before had almost vanished. + +And when, after the school had been opened by prayers and singing in +the large hall, she took her place upon her own estrade in the young +ladies' room, it was with a degree of calmness and composure, that +surprised herself. As she glanced over the assembled ranks of girls, +all sitting demurely, with their hands before them, she thought her +materials not unpromising. About half of the fifty were daughters +of substantial people in the village, well-dressed pretty girls, +all lady-like and proper; the rest were daughters of farmers in the +neighboring country, who went home to help in the dairy and kitchen +in summer, and attended school in the winter, often working for their +board in some village family. As was to be expected, these were not all +very polished, or dressed in the best taste, but many of them looked +good and sensible. + +The morning was spent in enrolling, examining, and classifying, looking +over books, and ascertaining former progress. Olive wondered whether +she should ever succeed in connecting their names with their faces, +so as not to make perpetual mistakes—when she should distinguish Miss +Julia Goodrich from Miss Sarah Goodrich, and both from the other Miss +Goodrich, who was not related to them. + +The girls appeared to have been tolerably well taught, so far as +concerned book-learning, hitherto, but they were deficient in general +knowledge, and those school-manners which she had been accustomed, +under Mrs. Granger's vigilant eye, to consider as essential. They +lounged on their desks, and in recitation they kicked their feet, bit +their fingers, and played with their books. Olive saw a good many +little things which needed reformation, but she was aware that all +reform should be commenced with caution and gradually carried on. + +In the afternoon, she organized a drawing-class, and this she found +rather a difficult matter. A number of the girls had drawn a little: +that is to say, they had copied a number of fancy castles and cottages, +with their walls strikingly at variance with the recognized principles +of gravitation, and shaded by trees, composed of a hard outline, filled +up with little "M"s and "N"s; others had gone so far as to use colored +chalks, and even to paint in oils. It had been a favorite maxim with +the former drawing-master that in order to paint, it was not at all +necessary to know how to draw, * and it may be imagined what sort of +productions came out of the hands of his pupils. + + * A literal fact. + +Of course, all these young ladies had no mean opinion of their own +abilities, and Olive foresaw that it would be a much more difficult +matter to teach them than though they had never touched a pencil. She +had herself been drilled through Chapman's inimitable method, with pen +and ink, by an indefatigable and really scientific teacher. And she +resolved, if possible, to pursue the same course with her own pupils, +though she foresaw that some of them were likely enough to be restive +under it. Accordingly, she sent Anna Jones to Mr. Prendergrass, for +two or three quires of foolscap, and a box of steel-pens. The girls +looked at each other with surprise, and the surprise increased, as she +proceeded to lay before each half a dozen' sheets of ruled paper, and +to distribute the pens. + +Olive saw it, and smiled. "You will think my first lesson a simple one, +young ladies," she said. "And yet I venture to say that not more than +half of you will succeed at the first trial. It is only to draw a line +from one side of the paper to the other, following the ruled line—so." +She continued taking up a white chalk crayon, and drawing lines back +and forth, from one side of the blackboard to the other. + +The girls were mostly quite confident of success when they began, and +there was a general laugh when upon examination not one of the attempts +was found perfect. Olive was glad to see them take it so good-naturedly. + +"You see," said she, "that it is not quite so easy as you thought. I do +not know that I ever saw any one succeed at the first trial. It will +require a great deal of patience, and some faith, for you to follow out +this method, but I venture to promise, that you will never regret it." + +"Can not we draw pictures at all?" asked Anna Jones. + +"Certainly, my dear. I shall allow you to draw pictures every now and +then, that you may judge of your own progress." + +The girls seemed very very well-satisfied, and addressed themselves +seriously to the work before them, with one exception. This was Miss +Julia Goodrich. + +Olive had discovered in the course of the day that this young lady was +not wanting in self-conceit: she seemed to think that she knew enough +already, and that it was something of a condescension for her to attend +school at all. Olive foresaw that it would probably become necessary +to set her down, but she did not expect the occasion would come quite +so soon. Miss Julia was evidently offended at being put to such an +exercise, and after three or four unsuccessful trials, she threw down +her pen, and sat leaning on her elbow. + +"Do not be discouraged, Miss Julia," said Olive kindly; "you will soon +acquire a better method of holding your pen, and it will be easier for +you." + +"I am not discouraged," replied Miss Julia shortly. + +"Then do not waste your time, as we have none too much to devote to +drawing." + +"I am not going to work at these things," said the young lady, pushing +away the paper contemptuously. "I can draw well enough already, and +only came into the class for practice. I want something pretty to do." + +Miss Julia's manner was sufficiently insolent, and her tone, if +possible, still more so. She had been the terror of two or three +teachers, and, in fact, had ruled matters very much her own way. +Olive's perfect good-breeding had awed her a little, but she was +determined not to give up the victory without a struggle. + +"What can you draw?" asked Olive, turning over her portfolio. + +"Any thing," returned Julia, triumphantly, taking this mildness as a +sign of yielding. She never was more mistaken in her life. + +Olive left her portfolio open, and taking up a large white china +inkstand, and sticking two or three pens into it, she set it on a book +before her pupil, saying composedly, "Very well, draw that." And she +turned again to her portfolio. + +There was a subdued titter among the girls, which she was not very +sorry to hear. + +Julia looked annoyed and mortified. "Oh! I didn't mean 'that,'" she +said. "Nobody could do such things as that." + +"You are mistaken," said Olive, gently; "any body who has made much +progress in drawing can do such things. But perhaps you would prefer +a picture." And she placed before her an exquisite drawing of Powers' +Proserpine which she had done from a cast while at school, and a +delicately-finished landscape in pen and ink. + +Worse and worse. The titter grew into a giggle, which Olive checked +with a glance, and Julia's face grew redder and redder. + +"I can't do them things," she said, sullenly. + +"Those things," corrected Olive, still quite unruffled. "But I thought +you said you could draw any thing." + +"There isn't a girl in this school that could draw either of those +pictures!" said Miss Goodrich, positively, but looking just ready to +cry, from anger and mortification. "I know there ain't!" + +"There are a great many in other schools, I assure you, and I presume +most of those here would like to learn. But what can you do, then?" + +Miss Goodrich produced from the depths of her portfolio a remarkable +production, purporting to be a landscape, but so utterly out of any +thing like perspective, as to be absolutely painful to the educated +eye. Trees a mile distant were represented of the same color, and with +the same minuteness, as those near at hand; while a lake, upon which +was a boat about half a mile long, descended towards the foreground +at an angle of forty-five degrees. This specimen of art she handed to +Olive, but by no means so triumphantly as she had at first anticipated: +she began to have a dawning perception that she had made herself very +ridiculous. + +Olive looked at it, making commendable efforts to keep the corners +of her mouth in order. Then, taking a picture of about the same size +and style from her own portfolio, she gently placed them side by side +before her pupil. + +Julia looked from one to the other: her face grew redder and redder, +and her eyes filled with tears. She took up Olive's sketch and examined +it. Then looked again at her own, and, at last quite overcome, she +burst into tears and sobbed aloud. + +Olive now really pitied the girl. + +"You had better go out into the air a little, Julia," she said, kindly; +"Laura, my dear, go with your sister." + +The two left the room, and Olive, turning to the class, said, gravely: +"I trust to your honor, girls, never to mention this little affair +again, either to Julia or any one else. You will see the reason for +what I say, if you think how you would like to be treated yourselves +under such circumstances." + +The girls looked at each other with some surprise, but with evident +approbation, and Olive saw that, so far as they were concerned, she had +gained a complete victory. But she felt rather anxious about the effect +upon Julia. She was, however, soon set at rest. + +"What did Miss McHenry say after I went out?" Julia asked of Anna +Jones, in the short recess that Olive allowed them. + +"She said we were not to say any thing about the matter, to you or any +one else, because we would not like it ourselves," replied her friend. + +Julia hesitated a moment, and then said: + +"Anna, do you think I made a fool of myself?" + +"I think you did," said the straightforward Anna; "and if I were you, +I would tell Miss McHenry so, and ask her to overlook it. That will be +the best way to make every one forget it." + +Julia meditated a moment, and then marched straight up to the +drawing-table, where Olive was standing, surrounded by all the older +girls. + +"Miss McHenry," she said, resolutely, but with a slight tremor in her +voice. "Anna Jones says I made a fool of myself this afternoon—at +least, I asked her if I didn't, and she said yes, and I am come to ask +your pardon. I see that you are right, and that I don't know any thing +about drawing. If you will let me come into the class again, I will do +just what you want me to." + +"I am very glad to hear you say so, my dear," said Olive, kissing her; +"it is always an excellent sign, when a girl is ready to acknowledge +that she has been in the wrong. I shall be very glad to teach you all I +know, and I have no doubt that you will soon learn to draw very well." + +Thus ended Olive's first contest in school, wherein, by the exercise +of a great deal of forbearance, and a little ready wit, she put her +opponent entirely in the wrong, and drew the sympathies of the whole +school to herself. Julia was possessed of a great many good qualities, +but she had been badly managed, both at home and in school. She was +really very quick, and easily kept at the head of almost all her +classes, and she had been put forward to think herself a good deal +more talented than she was, by the injudicious praises of parents and +teachers. Her strong will had never happened to have a stronger one +opposed to it, and thus she had carried all before her. Olive foresaw a +good many mortifications in store for her, but she hoped they would all +end as well as the first had done. + +School was dismissed at half-past four, and Olive walked a little way +down the street, hoping that the fresh air would cool her hot forehead, +and quiet its throbbing. But she soon became conscious that she was +being stared at from almost every house that she passed, and turned +back again. Ruth met her at the door. + +"How tired you are," she said, kindly, "but you will soon get used to +it. How did you get on?" + +"Very well, I believe," said Olive, wearily, "but really I hardly know." + +"You had better go up-stairs, and lie down till tea-time," said Ruth +compassionately. "You will find it easier to-morrow, and still more so +the next day, till by and by, you will hardly mind it at all." + +Olive was very glad of the encouragement, and still more of the rest. +She threw herself upon the lounge, and closed her eyes without thinking +of slumber, but by degrees her thoughts mingled themselves confusedly +together, and she slept soundly, till she was aroused by the tea-bell, +and rose feeling quite herself again. + +Mrs. Felton had prepared herself to sympathize with Olive's trials, and +seemed quite provoked to think she had not had any. Mr. Felton inquired +whether she had found the school pleasant, and on being answered in the +affirmative, mildly remarked that some people found things agreeable, +and others made them so, after which he finished his supper without +another word, and then betook himself to his newspaper. + +"There has been a piano sent here for you to-day," said Ruth as they +adjourned to the parlor. + +"A piano! From whom?" asked Olive, very much surprised. + +"Mr. Gregory sent it," replied Ruth. "It is one that Augusta Tower had +before she was married. Mr. Tower bought a much finer one for her, and +when she went home to live, she took it with her. So as one was enough +in the house, and you had none, they thought you might as well use +this." + +It was a plain but handsome instrument of good tone, and perfectly in +tune. Olive was delighted. She was fond of music, and played very well, +though she had not Abby's splendid talents, and she had sighed more +than once over the prospect of being without a piano of her own. + +"A good many people thought Mrs. Tower ought to have sold her handsome +piano, after her husband died," said Mrs. Felton, in her sighing voice, +"but she hardly sold any of her things. It looks rather singular to see +the minister's parlor the handsomest furnished of any in town." + +"I don't know why she should sell her things, mother," said Ruth. "They +can not be in debt, and she had enough to support herself, though not +as much as people generally thought she would have." + +"Ruth never will allow that Mrs. Tower can do any thing wrong," said +Mrs. Felton, appealing to Olive. "Even when, the third Sunday after her +child died, she played the organ just as usual, Ruth defended that." + +"We should not have had any music at all, if she had not, mother, and +you know the Bishop was here. Augusta did not think she ought to give +up all her duties because she was in affliction. I know she was blamed +for going into Sunday-school so soon too, but I must say, I think she +did right." + +"But she is always doing such queer things," persisted Mrs. Felton. "Do +you know, Miss McHenry, she was married on Tuesday morning, and she +went to church the Sunday before, though the invitations were all out." + +"I do not see any thing wrong in that," remarked Olive. "It seems to me +that would be the very time I should want to go." + +"Especially as it was the Communion," added Ruth. + +"Well, my dear, very likely you are right and I am wrong. I always am, +you know," said Mrs. Felton, in deeply resigned tones. "I only know, +it would have been thought very strange when I was young, but people +have improved since then, no doubt. I don't think I am quite a fool, +however." And with these words, Mrs. Felton returned to the dining-room. + +Ruth suppressed a sigh and asked Olive to play something. + +"Mother thinks Augusta is very odd," she said, after a while, "but I +hope you will like her. She goes out very little, but I think she will +come and see you." + +"Did I understand you that she was a widow?" asked Olive. + +"Yes, her husband died five years ago—just two years after they were +married. He was a cultivated, agreeable man, and was supposed to be +very rich. But after his death, it was found that there was only +about a thousand a year, for Augusta and her child. They lived rather +expensively, I suppose, but they had no debts, and so Augusta kept most +of their furniture and all her books and pictures. She furnished the +Parsonage, which needed it very much, and she has lived at home ever +since. Her child, a most lovely little creature, died last summer very +suddenly. I was always fond of Augusta, when we were school-girls. But +since her widowhood, I have loved her more dearly than ever." + +"Is she an only child?" asked Olive. + +Something passed across Ruth's face, like a sudden gust of wind across +a still piece of water, but almost before it could be noticed, it was +gone. + +"She had one brother, but he is dead," she said quietly. + +At this moment, the door-bell rang, and a Mrs. Dennison entered. She +was a pretty, matronly woman, one of those "mothers in Israel," a +certain proportion of whom are to be found in almost every church, +efficient helps to the minister, faithful in their own families, and +ready to lend a helping hand to every good work, but so quiet and +undemonstrative that they are hardly appreciated till they are dead +and gone. And then every one says on every occasion when assistance is +needed: "How we do miss Mrs. Dennison!" She had come to call upon Miss +McHenry, and invite her to the sewing society next day, at her house. + +Ruth advised Olive to go. + +"You will find yourself a little stared at, perhaps, but the meetings +are very pleasant, and it is a good way to become acquainted with the +people." + +"I never attended a society in my life," said Olive. "There was none +connected with our church, and I believe aunt Rebecca had a prejudice +against them. She thought they promoted scandal." + +"If scandal-loving people meet together, they will be likely enough to +talk scandal," replied Ruth, "whether it be at a society or a party. +But it has never been my fate to hear very much of it at society. I +suppose they may be different in different places. Mrs. Dennison and +Mrs. Gregory have been at the head of ours for a good many years, +till the latter resigned in favor of Augusta, and they are neither of +them people likely to encourage gossip. But I leave you to judge for +yourself." + +Other callers came in, and Olive was introduced to several ladies and +gentlemen, all well-bred, pleasant people. And when at rather an early +hour, she laid her head on her pillow, it was with a very pleasant +feeling of encouragement and thankfulness that the lines had fallen +to her in such pleasant places. If she could have forgotten her great +anxiety about Abby, she would have been quite happy. + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTH. + +IT was an old custom for school to be out on Friday afternoons at +half-past three. Olive dressed for the society before she went to +school, and Ruth was to call for her on her way. The two days since +Wednesday had passed without any thing particular to mark them, except +that one or two new scholars had entered. + +The girls, for the most part, were quiet, orderly, and studious, and +very ready to attend to her hints with regard to sitting, speaking, +and standing. Julia, especially, was quiet and meek to a degree that +astonished all her companions, and seemed particularly to delight her +sister, a meek, gentle, little thing, over whom she was rather given to +tyrannizing. She took so much pains with her ruled lines that she was +advanced to the next step in Chapman without delay, and Olive promised +her that after three or four more lessons, she should have something +really pretty to do. + +As Olive entered the dressing-room, she found one of the girls, +named Melissa Tucker, waiting to speak to her. She was a pale-faced, +pale-haired girl, with eyes of no particular color, and a disagreeable +drawl to her speech. + +"What is it, Melissa?" asked Olive. + +"I think it my duty, Miss McHenry," said Melissa, solemnly, "to tell +you that I saw Jane Ramsdell and Phebe Jones whispering twice this +morning, and once yesterday." + +"Indeed," said Olive, proceeding to take off her bonnet, without +manifesting any vital interest in the intelligence. + +"Miss Brown used to call them up and reprove them before the whole +school, when they did so," persisted Miss Tucker, after waiting in vain +for the commendation which she expected. Olive took no notice. + +"They whisper a great deal. I often see them, and I shall think it +my duty to tell you, Miss McHenry, every time the girls do any thing +wrong. Miss Brown used to say she was very much obliged to me for doing +so." + +"I am not of Miss Brown's opinion," said Olive. "I do not want any one +coming to me with stories of what the girls do. Any mischief which I +can not see, I am willing to pass over. You would not have been very +well pleased, I venture to say, Melissa, if Phebe had told me, this +morning, when you were reading that story in school-time, though you +knew very well that it was contrary to rules." + +Melissa looked confounded. + +"I saw you at the time," Olive continued, "but I did not see fit +to notice it then. I beg, however, that you will remember the +circumstance, when you give in your report to-night; and please to +remember, also, that I will have no tale-bearers about me. You may have +thought it your duty, as you say, to come and tell me, but as you see I +do not wish you to do so again, it will be your duty in future to avoid +it." + +Melissa followed her teacher into the school-room with as much anger in +her heart as could well dwell there, and she mentally resolved to be +revenged before many hours. The consternation was great, when before +the calling of the merit-roll, Olive rose and said: + +"I have been told that one or two of the girls whispered this morning. +I was sorry to hear it, and I hope, if it is true, that they will +answer accordingly, and be careful not to offend again. I suppose you +would all like to know who informed me." She paused, and a murmur of +mingled expectation and indignation ran round the room. "I shall not +tell you," she resumed, "nor in any way point out the offender. I +presume she did what she thought was right. But once for all, I wish +to say that I do not want any one coming to me with stories. I am +tolerably clear-sighted myself, and moreover I trust to your honor not +to try to deceive me. I hope I am safe in so doing," she said, looking +round the room. + +Every hand was raised in token of assent. "If you know of any large +girl, tyrannizing over and tormenting a little one, and can not stop +her yourselves, or if you find out that any one in the school is +plotting to set the house or the river on fire, you may come and tell +me, but I do not wish to hear of any thing else. Now we will let the +matter drop." + +She began to call the roll, and when she came to the name of Phebe +Jones, Phebe answered with spirit: + +"Yes, Miss McHenry, and I should have answered so, if you had not been +told. I wanted very much to know where the lesson was, and you were +busy with the new scholars, so I asked Jane Ramsdell. She did not hear +the first time, and I asked her again." + +"If that was all, Phebe, and I presume it was if you say so, I will +excuse it this time," replied Olive. "But remember hereafter, I would +rather you should wait a little than break a rule." + +Ruth now entered—basket in hand, and the girls all rose—another ancient +usage at the entrance of a stranger, which pleased Olive very much. +"Don't you think that a very pretty custom?" she said to Ruth, as, +school being dismissed, they walked towards Mrs. Dennison's. + +"Very," replied Ruth, "and it has the sanction of antiquity with us. +One of the teachers not long ago, tried to abolish it on the ground +that it looked old-fashioned, but the boys and girls stood out so +stoutly for it that she was forced to give it up. I do not think myself +that there is any great danger, at the present time, of young people's +being too deferential to their elders." + +When they arrived at Mrs. Dennison's, they found the room quite full, +and all eyes were turned towards the new-comers. Olive felt her color +rise a little, but she bore the battery of glances very well, and after +speaking to Mrs. Dennison, who came forward to meet her, she followed +her companion towards the centre-table, where sat the principal +officers of the society, cutting out and arranging work, and marking +patterns. + +They seemed to have their hands very full indeed. One of them was Mrs. +Dennison herself, and the other a lady in the deepest mourning, whom +Olive knew at once must be Ruth's friend, Mrs. Augusta Tower. Olive +thought she had seldom seen a more lovely woman. + +Mrs. Tower was small and somewhat slight, with an exquisitely fair +complexion, and a bloom as delicate as an infant's. Her eyes were +large and well shaped, but their color was not so easily decided. +Olive thought them like deep rills. All the features were clearly cut, +and the eyebrows, especially, though not heavy, were remarkably well +defined, not arched, but level, and turning a little down at the outer +corner. Her soft brown hair was plainly dressed, under a widow's tucked +crape cap of the simplest form. A chain and cross of beautiful brown +hair were her only ornaments. + +"Some work?" she said, in answer to Ruth's inquiries. "Oh! Yes, as soon +as I finish this pattern: but we are really overburdened to-day, so +much has been ordered." + +"Can not I do that?" asked Olive. "I have a good deal of experience in +drawing patterns." + +Mrs. Tower gladly accepted the offer, and made a vacant space at the +overloaded table, where Olive found herself employed most of the +time till dark, in tracing scollops, wheels, eyelets, etc. Ruth sat +near her, engaged on a child's cambric apron. There was a buzz of +conversation in the room, now and then enlivened by a hearty laugh from +some of the younger ladies. + +It was really a very pretty sight. The parlors were large and neatly +furnished, though in rather old-fashioned style, and opened together +by folding doors. The back-room where there was a fire, seemed to have +been taken possession of by the elderly ladies, half a dozen of whom +were congregated around the windows, knitting and netting, and talking +in subdued tones. Their conversation was not, perhaps, very deep or +learned, but it was wholly kindly and good, and many times there +dropped from the lips of these mothers in Israel, sentiments of wisdom +and experience which many a learned man might lay to heart, and be the +better for—yes, even that deeply-learned gentleman who lately declared +in a lecture that no woman had ever added any thing to the sum of human +intelligence. + +Several of these ladies were mothers and grandmothers of some of +Olive's pupils, and came forward to speak to her, and she felt +herself strengthened and encouraged by their kindly greetings. In +the front-room were the younger part of the company, young married +ladies with their sisters and cousins, numbering, like all assemblies +of American women, a large proportion of pretty faces, clear, +straightforward, intelligent eyes, and thoughtful brows. + +The murmur of talk, which had stopped for a little at Olive's entrance, +soon began again, and Olive could not help fancying that she herself +was sometimes the subject of conversation. She felt that if so, it was +no more than natural, and strove not to feel any embarrassment. Two +ladies near her, were talking about the Sunday-school. She listened +with interest, and at last ventured to ask a question. + +"Are you interested in Sunday-schools?" asked the elder of the ladies, +after replying to the interrogatory. + +"Very much theoretically, but practically, I know little about them. I +have never taught at all." + +"We shall be very glad of your assistance in our school," continued +Mrs. Sands; "for teachers are not too numerous among us. But perhaps +you are sufficiently burdened already." + +"I have hardly tried it long enough to know," was Olive's rather +embarrassed reply. "I shall be able to tell better after a few weeks." + +"I hope you feel the importance of the trust committed to you, Miss +McHenry," said the other lady, whom she now thought must be Melissa +Tucker's mother. "It is a solemn responsibility." + +"It is, indeed," said Olive, hardly knowing what to say. + +"You must be sometimes quite weighed down with the awful account you +will have to give of your labors." + +"I try not to be weighed down," said Olive. "Do you not think it is +possible to take too much responsibility upon one's self? After all, in +this, as in many other things, we can only do our best, with all the +light we can get, and leave the event to God." Olive spoke with some +effort, and a slight blush. + +But looking up, she met Mrs. Tower's deep eyes raised to hers, with a +sudden flash as it were, of approbation, and Mrs. Dennison too smiled +an assent. Mrs. Tucker, however, looked doubtful, and a little annoyed. + +"That doctrine gives great encouragement to carelessness," she said. + +"I do not see how," Mrs. Tower replied. "Because, if we take ever so +much responsibility, we can really do nothing without the will of God, +you know." + +"I think there is great comfort in the idea, too, that all the +responsibility does not rest with us," remarked Mrs. Dennison, in her +subdued voice. "I know, after my little Sammy died, I used to go over +and over all his sickness, and say to myself, if this had been done, or +if that had been tried, perhaps he might have lived, though I really +knew, all the time, that every thing had been done that could be. But +by and by it came to me, as it were, that after all, as you say, Miss +McHenry, the event was in the hands of One that could not do wrong, or +make a mistake, and then I felt quite reconciled." + +Mrs. Tower bent over her work, and Olive heard a suppressed sigh. + +"Then you think, I suppose," said Mrs. Tucker, sharply, "that you may +be just as giddy and careless as you please, and let every thing go, +because God can bring it out right in the end." + +"That is hardly a fair construction, Mrs. Tucker," said Ruth, who had +hitherto sat silent. "Miss McHenry said we were to do our best, and +leave the event to God. That is, surely, a very different thing from +being careless and giddy." + +Mrs. Tucker said something about hair-splitting which Olive did not +exactly catch, and she was not sorry when the entrance of half a dozen +of the school-girls occasioned something of a move and interrupted the +conversation. + +Julia Goodrich, the leader in every thing, came up and asked for +work—something easy, of course, for never was young girl at sewing +society known to ask for any thing else. The rest soon gathered round, +and at last came Melissa Tucker, with a countenance of melancholy, +and rather an elaborate appearance of having been crying. Mrs. Tucker +charged her with it at once, and with a faint smile, Melissa owned the +soft impeachment. + +"You are so quick-sighted, dear aunt," she said, in her drawling tones. + +Olive was surprised, for the remarkable similarity in looks and tones +had led her to think that they were mother and daughter. + +"What has been the matter with you? I insist upon knowing," said Mrs. +Tucker, with emphasis, and looking daggers at all the other girls. + +"Nothing of much consequence," replied Melissa, mournfully, threading +her needle. + +"Have your feelings been hurt, Melissa?" with still more emphasis. + +"I confess they have been deeply wounded, dear aunt, but I must submit. +I know submission is our duty under trials. We must take it meekly when +we are misunderstood and cruelly treated." And again she sighed deeply, +with a significant glance at Olive. + +But Olive was earnestly engaged in comparing the pattern she was +drawing with one which a lady was working, and this speech was lost +upon her. + +Mrs. Tucker, however, followed the glance, and saw where it rested. She +liked a scene, especially when she was able to take a prominent part, +and she determined to get one up. + +"Melissa," she said, solemnly, and in tones which drew upon her the +attention of all in her neighborhood, "I will know what you have been +crying about, and who has injured your feelings. I know very well how +forgiving you are, and I won't have you trampled upon by any one. +No one, whether teacher or any one else, need think she is going to +tyrannize over you, because you are timid and retiring. Tell me at +once." + +Olive could not help hearing and understanding this, and she was +beginning to feel painfully embarrassed as to what she ought to do, +when she was unexpectedly relieved. + +"Yes, Melissa, out with it," said a rich, manly, and somewhat jovial +voice behind her. "Let us hear who it is that has sent you to the +society, like a Niobe on private exhibition, with your eyes and nose as +red as a beet. Let us hear the doleful tale." + +Olive looked round with a feeling of inexpressible relief, to recognize +her friend, Mr. Jones, who had come in with Mr. Gregory, in time to +hear Mrs. Tucker's speech. + +The young lady darted a wrathful glance at the unsentimental +interlocutor and said, in soft tones, which, however, trembled with +rage: + +"You always will have your joke, dear uncle, but I don't mind it." + +"I don't know why you should; you are used to it by this time, one +would think. But you look at Miss McHenry as though you wanted to bite +her. What has she done to you—shut you up in a closet or put a fool's +cap on you, eh?" + +"Not quite so bad as that," said Olive, laughing. "I never resort to +extreme measures, except in extreme cases, and should hardly venture to +proceed so far without a warrant from the trustees." + +"Oh! Don't think to shift the responsibility upon us," replied Mr. +Jones. "The only use of trustees in a school is to pay salaries and +keep the building in repair." + +"If you want any one locked up, you must put a lock upon the closet," +said Julia Goodrich. "The lock has been broken ever since I can +remember." + +Mr. Jones promised to have the matter attended to at once, and +professed his intention to provide a fool's cap at his own expense. + +Mrs. Tucker and Melissa seemed to give up all idea of a scene as soon +as he appeared, but they were silent and sulky. + +And Olive was glad when a call to tea gave her an opportunity of +changing her position. The tea-table, as usual upon such occasions, was +bountifully spread, and to Olive's city eyes looked overloaded with its +pyramids of hot biscuits and cold bread, and its baskets and plates of +cake, cookies, crullers, etc. But she was very hungry, and she was glad +to see every one make a business of eating. Three or four of the young +ladies waited on the company, and every thing was accomplished with +ease, and with no more confusion than served to provoke the smiles and +laughter of the girls themselves, and the good humored raillery of Mr. +Jones and Mr. Gregory. + +As they left the supper-room, Mrs. Dennison managed to say to Olive: + +"You must not mind Mrs. Tucker: we all know she is queer, but I think +she is rather a well-meaning woman. As for Melissa, she is an affected +little humbug, and always was, from the time she could talk. I dare say +you served her right." + +"I did nothing to her except to let her alone," said Olive. + +"I presume not, and you need not fear that any one will blame you. +She is pretty well-known by every one but her aunt, who thinks her a +suffering angel." + +Olive's mind was quite relieved, but she could not quite get over the +unpleasant impression she had received. + +Mr. Jones came up to her, as she was standing a little apart, and said +the same thing as Mrs. Dennison, adding: "I suppose Melissa came to you +with some of her stories, and you told her to hold her tongue. I am +glad, if you did, for she bids fair to become the pest of the village, +if she is not broken of this love of tale-bearing. The last teacher, +Miss Brown, encouraged her in it, and more than half her trouble grew +out of that very thing. Don't let it disturb you any more." + +Olive did not mean to let it disturb her, but she could not help +thinking of it a good many times afterwards. + +A number of gentlemen, married and single, dropped in, in the course +of the evening, and she was introduced to more people than she had +any hope of remembering. For the most part, they were well-mannered, +sensible men, and Olive liked them very well, except two or three of +the younger ones, who, in trying to make fine gentlemen of themselves, +had quite spoiled the original material, without succeeding in +manufacturing any thing like a presentable article. They all appeared +to be rather shy of her, and from some whispers which she overheard, +she fancied that she was considered a very learned lady. + +A Mr. Landon, to whom she was introduced by Mrs. Tower, and with whom +she had some conversation, struck her as being a very intelligent +person. He seemed quite young, not more than three or four and +twenty, Olive judged. But he had very manly, serious manners, and +showed no lack of cultivation. He was tall and stout, but not +particularly handsome, though he had fine eyes, and an exceedingly +firm, well-cut mouth, and his face, usually grave and somewhat stern +in its expression, flashed now and then with a smile which was quite +remarkable for its suddenness and brilliancy. He was evidently a great +favorite with Mr. and Mrs. Gregory, with whom he had a long talk in the +course of the evening. + +"How do you like our society?" asked Mrs. Tower of Olive, as they were +walking homeward under the convoy of Mr. Landon. + +"That is hardly a fair question, Mrs. Tower," said Mr. Landon, +anticipating Olive's reply, "since even if Miss McHenry does not like +it, she can hardly in politeness say so to the president of the said +society." + +"Please to let Miss McHenry answer for herself: How do you like our +society?" + +"Very much, I can sincerely say," replied Olive, warmly. "If this is a +specimen, I think they must be a public benefit." + +"My father will tell you that he finds a great advantage in seeing +his flock together once a fortnight in a sociable way," said Augusta. +"And they offer another in another in affording a common ground upon +which all the members of the church can meet each other; for even in +a village like this, distinctions are apt to grow up. There are two +or three families here, who will never come, and who have even tried +to break up the meetings, but they do not exactly like to set their +influence openly against my father's wishes. I am sorry they do so, for +they are really pleasant people." + +"I think one family will come around yet," remarked Mr. Landon. "The +Vander Heydens have shown signs of relenting lately." + +"And if they do, the Rusts will be sure to follow," said Ruth. "Anne +Rust would be certain to do whatever Mrs. Vander Heyden did." + +Mrs. Tower promised to come and see Olive very soon, and Mr. Landon +expressed an intention of availing himself of her protection to pay his +respects, and so they separated. + +"You were not at the society last night," said Olive to Mr. +Prendergrass, as they met in the hall next morning before school. + +Mr. Prendergrass looked amazed at the very idea. + +"No ma'am! I can not afford to spend my time so. Life is too precious +to be wasted in visiting such assemblies. Is it possible, Miss McHenry, +that you, with your cultivation and learning, can find enjoyment in +such scenes?" + +"Do you think the effect of cultivation ought to be to make us avoid +intercourse with our fellow creatures, Mr. Prendergrass?" + +"Really, ma'am, I can not say," replied the gentleman; "I do not know +that I ever thought of it in that light. I have always considered it a +waste of time to spend it in frivolous conversation and gayety." + +"But gayety need not always be frivolous," said Olive, "and a little of +it is very refreshing after a day of hard labor; at least, I find it +so. Don't you think your health might be better if you allowed yourself +a little more relaxation?" + +"I do not know. Perhaps it might. I am obliged to you for the +suggestion, Miss McHenry. I shall take it into consideration," he said, +with his formal bow. + +Olive felt as though she had gained quite a victory. + +It is not our intention to give a detailed account of Olive's progress +in school-teaching. Suffice it to say that she found her tasks growing +easier, and herself gaining upon the confidence of her scholars, day by +day. She had once or twice, a little trouble with Julia Goodrich, whose +habits of domineering over her sister and of thinking herself wiser +than any one else in the world were not to be overcome all at once. + +But Julia was affectionate, truthful, and capable of thorough respect. +And after a little time, she found a pleasure in looking up to one +so decidedly her superior, as she was forced to confess Olive to be. +Little Sarah felt that the change in her sister was a very pleasant +one, and Julia began to be a great favorite with her companions. + +Not so Melissa Tucker. That astute young lady, in calculating on +the fine scene which she proposed to get up at the society, had +quite forgotten that in so doing she was pointing herself out to her +companions as the very person who had been the tale-bearer. She had +been suspected before, and upon her entrance into the school-room the +next morning, she was greeted by a peal of laughter, and many allusions +more or less covert to her having carried her wares to an unprofitable +market, etc., which did not fail to enrage her to the highest degree. +At first she thought to gain sympathy by weeping, but being kindly but +peremptorily desired to stop crying and learn her lessons, she gave +that up, and took refuge in the most inveterate sullenness, which Olive +did not notice at all. + + +It was almost two weeks before she received a letter from Abby, though +Mrs. Merton and Charlotte had both written only a few days after her +departure. Abby's letter was rather short and constrained, and she made +no allusion to what Olive had urged upon her; only she mentioned that +her uncle had returned, and said that Mr. Forester was going to M., and +would be away for some time. + +Mrs. Merton evidently had no suspicion of what was going on. She spoke +of Abby with much affection, and though she mentioned that the child +was somewhat low-spirited, she evidently ascribed it all to Olive's +departure. + + "I had no idea," she wrote, "that Abby could feel any one thing so long +and so deeply." + +Olive felt sick at heart when she thought of the time when her uncle +and aunt should discover how shamefully they had been deceived. In a +second letter written soon after the first, Charlotte said that Mr. +Forester had really gone to establish himself in M., and expressed her +pleasure thereat. + + "He is forever coming here, and it annoys my father very much, for he +has not a good opinion of the young man, as you know very well. Abby, +poor child, really pines after you. I do not think she has slidden down +the banisters more than twice since you went away, and she hardly ever +sings about the house as she used to. I am trying to study Greek, and +by dint of stubborn perseverance, really make out very well. But after +all, it does not seem to satisfy me. I want some object more than the +mere acquisition of knowledge." + +In another letter, some time after, she wrote: + + "Abby has taken to corresponding violently with those Miss Jennings +from M. You will remember them. I never used to think she cared for +them, but she seems to find great comfort in their letters." + +"The Miss Jennings of M.! Why, they left M. long ago," said Olive to +herself. + +But upon a moment's reflection, the truth flashed upon her. It was +a plan contrived between Abby and William Forester to conceal their +correspondence. Deception upon deception! And she almost felt as though +she were participating in it by being in the secret. Again with all the +powers of her eloquence, she urged Abby to tell all, representing to +her the inevitable consequence of the course she was pursuing. + +Abby's answer was short and decisive. + + "It is too late now. I wish with all my heart that the matter had never +been carried so far—that is, the concealment, for of my engagement +I shall never repent. But now it is too late. William will not tell +uncle, and I dare not. I must abide the issue; and after all, I hope it +will turn out well. Do not fret about me, dear Olive; I am sure shall +be quite happy in the end. Enjoy yourself in your new path, and leave +me to mine." + +What should she do? The more she thought, the more unable she was to +come to a decision. + +Mrs. Felton, who was a keen observer of faces, remarked to Ruth that +Miss McHenry's letters did not seem to do her much good; for she always +looked sad after every one that she received. Ruth had observed the +same thing, and wondered at it, but she was possessed of too much +delicacy to say a word. + +Between Olive, Ruth, and Augusta Tower there had grown up a very +earnest and thorough friendship, and Olive often wished for Helen +Monteith, between whom and the upright and downright Ruth, she often +noticed a resemblance. + +Ruth was not at all accomplished, except that she had learned French +by herself, at odd times, as she said. But she had read and re-read +all the best English books in Mr. Gregory's library, and was almost +as familiar as himself with the writing of those great fathers of the +Church, whose voices find echoes in the hearts of all Christians, and +will find them to the end of time. She had studied a great deal of +history, too, and could give date and place to all the great events of +the world, a thing which Augusta meekly confessed her inability to do. + +"I remember 1492," she was wont to say, "and 1649, and 1776, and I +remember 1689, but I never can tell what happened then." To which Ruth +was sure to reply, "The English Revolution, you goose." + +Ruth had read a great deal of poetry too, but it was chiefly among +what are called the English classics. And many a lively discussion +did she have with Olive and Augusta concerning the merits of ancient +and modern English verse, wherein the "Morte d'Arthur" was arrayed +against "Alexander's Feast," and "In Memoriam" against "Lycidas," +and even—frightful to relate—The "Drama of Exile" against "Paradise +Lost." They always came together, however, on Spenser—dear, religious, +chivalrous, pure-minded Spenser—and the beloved and quaint George +Herbert, dear to every earnest heart that ever found him out. + +Mrs. Gregory sat by with her knitting or sewing, kindly smiling upon +the earnest disputants, and now and then putting in a plea in favor of +Cowper's "Task," Young's "Night Thoughts," and Thomson's "Seasons." + +Augusta Tower was as different as possible from Ruth. In the first +place, her personal beauty was very remarkable, but of this she +appeared to have very little consciousness. She was very accomplished, +drawing beautifully, playing and singing as well as Abby herself, +and having a very general acquaintance with all sorts of books. She +loved music, and practised a great deal, at which Mrs. Felton wondered +greatly, thinking that a widow ought not to care for such things. + +"You are very happy in loving music so well, I am sure, Mrs. Tower," +she said, one evening, after Augusta and Olive had been playing a +brilliant duet together. "If I should lose my husband, I am certain I +should never care for any of the amusements of the world again. Indeed, +I don't now. I have renounced all such things." + +It was difficult to see how Mrs. Felton could have renounced music, +inasmuch as she had never known one note from another. Augusta made no +reply to her, but she afterwards said to Olive: "Do you, too, think it +very strange that I should keep up my music?" + +"No," replied Olive; "I am extremely glad you do." + +"I never played very well till after I was married," she continued, +"but Mr. Tower was extremely fond of music, and to please him, I set +to work in earnest to make myself a good performer. It is from the +same feeling that I keep it up now. It 'was' hard, at first, but I +persevered, and I find my reward. Then, too, it gratifies my father, +and I often win him to an hour or two of the rest he so much needs, by +playing and singing to him." + +But after all, the great and surpassing charm of Augusta's character +was her piety. It enveloped her like a golden halo, and every one who +approached her felt its influence. Not that she ever put forth any +claims to superior sanctity, for she felt none. But it was impossible +to talk to her for fifteen minutes without knowing that love to God +was the crowning motive of her life, and influenced all she said and +did. Those who were favored with an intimacy with her felt themselves +elevated and ennobled by the influence of it, and better prepared to +meet the storms and waves of this troublesome-world. + +At a sick-bed, in the house of mourning, peace and consolation followed +her steps like attendant angels, and those who suffered and wept felt +the influence of her presence. In the Sunday-school, she was almost +worshipped by the class of girls that she taught, and the worst child +in the room was ashamed to be naughty under the gentle sorrow of her +eye. Augusta had never been gay, in the ordinary society acceptation of +the word. She felt that she could not be so, and keep wholly unsullied +the white robe of her discipleship; and even when exposed to great +temptations during her short married life, she had steadfastly adhered +to her resolution of avoiding dissipation, large parties, and late +hours. Happily for her, Mr. Tower was, in most things, like-minded with +herself. He was one of the excellent of the earth; and when he was +taken from her, after three short years, she was able to be thankful, +amid all her desolation, that she had loved such a man. + +Ruth's piety, though perhaps as fervent, was of a different cast. +She had much more to contend with in herself, being naturally hasty +in temper and speech, and prone to dwell upon and magnify injuries +and griefs. Augusta's faith had been implanted and nourished in her +earliest years by the most religious and consistent of parents, and had +grown with her growth and strengthened with her strength, while Ruth's +had only arrived through the medium of bitter and aching sorrow. + +Very, very hard was it for her to bring every thought into captivity +to the obedience of Christ—to rule rebellious feelings and bitter +murmurings, and to guard the hasty tongue—long and long before she +tasted, save at very rare intervals, the exceeding great joy of loving +God in all and before all, and trusting all things great and small, to +him. Thus her religion had a certain vein of sternness in it, which did +not at all belong to Augusta's; and this continued even after she had +found happiness—real happiness, as well as peace in believing. Though +kind and sympathizing in real sorrow, she had, in general, but little +patience with weak complaints and fretful murmurs, and oftentimes +it was hard for her to bear her mother's continual low spirits and +repinings, like a continual dropping in a very rainy day. Duty, with +Ruth, was all in all. I can because I ought, was her motto, and well +she carried it out. + +She was not so universally admired as Augusta, but she had a great many +warm friends, especially since she had learned to rule her tongue. +She was invaluable as a member of the church, the society, and the +Sunday-school, and it was her own fault if she was not married. Certain +it is that more than one farm, besides a flourishing law business, +had been laid at her feet, but she rejected them all—some kindly, +some sharply, according to the degree of assurance manifested by the +profferers, and continued to live on quietly with her mother. + +With two such friends, Olive might have been very happy, if she had +had no outside disturbing cause. She liked the place and the people, +who, on their part, were all very kind to her, calling upon her, and +inviting her to more tea-drinkings and parties than she knew what +to do with. Late hours, happily, were not the fashion in Basswoods, +and though some of these reunions were rather stiff, others were +pleasant enough to make up. For Mrs. Dennison and Mrs. Jones she formed +a warm attachment. They were not very cultivated women, but they +were truthful, warm-hearted, and Christian, and besides, they liked +her. Mrs. Tucker was not to be brought round. She continued sullen +and distant, but luckily, she and her amiable niece had but little +influence. Mr. Prendergrass, distant and grim at first, had evidently +been won over. He lent her his books, of which he had a choice +collection, he came to see her oftener than she cared to have him, and +always seemed perfectly happy while listening to her playing. Nay, he +astonished the small world of Basswoods by making his appearance at +sewing society, and though he did nothing the whole time but stand +bolt upright in a corner, he professed to have passed a very pleasant +evening. + +Mrs. Felton's mind was very much exercised to know whether the Vander +Heydens would come to call on Miss McHenry, and opined that it would +be downright shameful if they did not. Miss McHenry cared very little +indeed about the matter. She had been upon terms of intimacy with a +great deal grander people than the Vander Heydens, and she did not +think they looked particularly agreeable as she had seen them in +church. They came, however, and Mrs. Felton's heart was set at rest. + +Olive thought Miss Vander Heyden a pretty, rather affected girl, and +her mother a nice sort of person. But she could not imagine upon what +they founded their claims to extra gentility, till she found that they +prided themselves upon the fact of their family's having lived in the +same place since the old French war. They invited her to tea to meet +Mr. and Mrs. Gregory, and she called once afterwards, and then the +intercourse ended. She sometimes heard of them from Mr. Landon, whom +she saw frequently, and who was distantly connected. + +Mr. Landon had become rather a frequent visitor at Mrs. Felton's, and +Olive was getting to like him very much. He was a grave, serious, +hard-working man—so different from William Forester! Mr. Landon had not +very long ago finished the study of law, and was succeeding to what +promised to be a very lucrative practice in Basswoods, which was the +county-town of E. He had begun to be noted as a speaker already, and +older lawyers treated his opinions with respect, and pronounced him a +rising young man. He loved his profession, he himself said, better than +any thing else in the world, except his sister, a nice little girl of +nine, who had been a great favorite with Olive from the first. They +were orphans, and each possessed of a comfortable fortune. + +"I wonder you work so hard, Walter, when you and Louisa have plenty +enough to live upon," said Annette Vander Heyden to him, one day. "Why +don't you spend more time in company, and in indulging your taste for +music and drawing?" + +"Because I want to be some body, Annette," returned Mr. Landon. "What +is a man worth that spends his time in amusing himself?" + +"You are too ambitious," said Annette, gravely. "What would become of +you if you were to lose your eyesight, or your voice, so that you could +not practise?" + +"I should find something else to do, I suppose," was the reply. "I do +not believe I shall ever be placed anywhere where there will not be +work for me. Ambitious as you think me, and as I know I am, law is not +the first thing with me, though I confess it is next to the first." + +Between Walter Landon and Olive there grew up, by degrees, a very warm +and intimate friendship—friendship they called it, and neither of +them dreamed of any thing else. Ruth and Augusta used to speculate, +sometimes, upon this intimacy, and wondered whether it would grow into +any thing serious, but there seemed to be no very great likelihood of +it. Other people, of course, had their say about it, but Olive was not +much in the way of hearing reports, and perhaps would not have cared if +she had. Almost every one agreed that it would be a very good match, +and an excellent thing, inasmuch as it would keep Miss McHenry among +them. + +Olive was sorry that there was no vacation between Christmas and +New-Year's—she wanted very much to go home and see how they were +getting on. Her aunt was very indignant, and wanted her to come at +any rate, but Olive knew that would not do at all, and prepared, with +rather a heavy heart, to spend her Christmas as happily as she could at +Basswoods. + +It passed very pleasantly, despite her homesickness. There was no +school on Christmas-day, of course. Olive had ventured, supported by +Mr. Jones, to introduce the daring innovation of decking her own room +with evergreens, and it looked so pretty, that the young gentlemen, +smitten with admiration, did the same, not only by their own peculiar +territory, but also by the great hall, which they ornamented in +beautiful style. + +Mr. Gregory preached one of his best sermons on Christmas-day, and the +church was filled. All the Felton household went to the parsonage to +dine, where they met Walter and Louisa Landon, and two or three of the +school-girls, who lived too far away to go home. + +When they returned, at night, Olive found a large parcel and two +or three letters awaiting her, which latter, much to Mr. Felton's +amusement, were opened first. Aunt Rebecca's and Charlotte's were, as +usual, kind, and filled with good wishes. + +Abby's was short, and very sad. She did not know what to do, she said, +but she almost felt as though she could not live so any longer. Her +uncle seemed as though he began to suspect something wrong, and she +thought he watched her. Mrs. Dimsden kept dropping all sorts of hints +and insinuations, and Laura was always prying about. She did not know +what to do, but she felt that she must do something very soon. + +Olive felt distressed and sick at heart. She feared very much that Abby +might take some hasty step, which would make matters ten times worse. +One sentence, especially, alarmed her: + + "If I were independent in money matters, like you, it would not be so +bad, but now I must give an account of every penny I spend, and uncle +complains that I am extravagant, and spend money foolishly. It is not +for myself; entirely, if I do, but that I can not tell him, even if it +would do any good. I used to think that the troubles and difficulties +of people in love were all nonsense, but I know better now." + +Olive wondered whether she could be lending Mr. Forester money. Abby +had never intimated to her that she held any correspondence with him, +but she had inferred as much from what Charlotte had said about her +writing to the Misses Jennings, at M. All her discomfort was renewed, +and increased ten-fold. + +"I do hope," she said inwardly, with some degree of impatience, "that I +shall never be in love, if it always makes people act so like fools." +Poor Olive! + +The parcel, on being opened, was found to contain a variety of pretty +remembrancers and a jar of West-India preserved oranges, of which Mrs. +Merton, in a very polite note, begged Mrs. Felton's acceptance. + +Mrs. Felton was very much pleased. She said she had never seen any +since she married, and promised herself the pleasure of sending Mrs. +Merton some preserved apricots, which she had great skill in preparing, +when Olive returned home in the summer. + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTH. + +THE winter wore away happily, on the whole. Olive thought that, aside +from her secret trouble about Abby, she had never spent a pleasanter +one. The girls all liked her, and she had very little trouble with +them. The drawing-class got on finely, having advanced from rudimental +lines and squares to heads and figures; and some of them had begun +drawing from objects with a decision of hand and correctness of eye +which fully justified Chapman's method. + +She sometimes got very tired, and was usually unable to study much, +but she had abundance of the sort of society that she liked best, and +as many new books as she cared to read, and she looked forward with +pleasure to the prospect of returning to her labors after the spring +vacation. How rich she felt, when her first quarter's salary was paid +into her hands! She had no idea that she could enjoy the possession of +money so much. + +As spring came on, there began to be a good deal of sickness in +Basswoods, especially among poor people, of whom there were a good many +in the lower part of the town. Measles and hooping cough prevailed, and +took on malignant forms; and severe quinseys and influenza prostrated +whole families at once. Those whose households were unvisited set +themselves seriously to help their afflicted neighbors, and for a time +little else was done. + +Ruth and Augusta were among the busiest, and were away day and night. +But Ruth would not allow Olive to assist them in watching. + +"You are obliged to be employed all day, whether you feel able or not," +she said; "and you must have your nights to rest. Besides, you will be +going home in two or three weeks, and if you do not look well, they +will not let you come back." And Olive was fain to acquiesce, since she +could not help herself. + +The school was much diminished in numbers, as many of the girls from +out of town had returned home to avoid the sickness, and she was able +to give a great deal of time to those that remained, much to her and +their satisfaction. + +Her uncle had promised to come for her, and she had at last resolved, +by the advice of Mr. Gregory, to tell him all, when he came. He would +then have time to get over the first heat of his anger before he saw +Abby, and in that case she was sure of his acting reasonably. She found +her heart very much lightened after she had formed this resolution, +though she felt that it would require all her strength to carry it out, +and would have given almost any thing to be safe the other side of it. + + +There remained now only one more week before her return home, and that +was the week before Easter. There was service in the church every +evening at four o'clock, and by exact punctuality she found herself +able to attend. Mr. Gregory's plain, earnest lectures did her a great +deal of good, and she felt stronger and better for every one of them. + +One evening, after church, she was walking, slowly homeward, by +herself, enjoying the beautiful twilight, and thinking over what she +had just heard. She had not seen Mr. Landon for several days. He was +very much engaged in his office, and, moreover, he did more than his +share in taking care of the sick. It was very pleasant to have such a +friend. It occurred to her, several times, that she should miss him a +great deal if he should go away, as he now and then talked of doing, +but she did not dwell upon that idea. If she were afraid to do so, she +did not acknowledge the fear to herself. + +She was presently joined by Dr. Gordon, the oldest physician in the +place, who had been her fast friend from the beginning. He looked very +weary, and Olive remarked it. + +"Yes," said he, "I am indeed very tired and very sad. I do not see +where all this is to end. At first, the sickness seemed confined to the +poor people, but now it is share and share alike with all classes. Poor +Annette Vander Heyden is much worse." + +"I did not know she was sick," replied Olive. "Is she very unwell?" + +"She is very ill, indeed," said the doctor. "I fear she will never be +any better. It will be a sad blow to the family, as well as to Walter +Landon." + +Olive felt as though some one had struck her, but she asked, quietly: +"Why to him?" + +"They have been engaged a long time, I suppose," was the answer. "I +know it used to be talked of, even when Walter was at college." + +"They will make a fine-looking pair, will they not?" said Olive, in a +tone of quiet interest. "I think Annette is a very agreeable girl." + +"Yes, barring her absurd pride of family, I do not know a nicer young +lady; and Walter was always a favorite of mine. Good-by, Miss McHenry, +and pray take care of yourself, or we shall have you down, too." + +"I shall take care," said Olive, lightly. "You know I am going home +next Wednesday. Will you please send word to school, by Catharine, how +Annette is? I shall feel very anxious to know." + +The doctor promised. + +Olive bade him good-night and went into the house, and up-stairs to her +own room. A heavy, hard pain was pressing at her heart, and she felt as +though she should suffocate. But she had only one distinct thought—that +she would not think of any thing just then. + +Very quietly she took off her bonnet and brushed her curls, and then, +going down into the sitting-room as usual, she set about correcting a +large pile of compositions, going over and over every one, with even +more than ordinary care and deliberation. Phebe Jones came to take a +music lesson. She seemed to think Olive was rather more particular than +usual about touch and time, and she told Anna, when she returned, that +she had never seen Miss McHenry when she came so near to being cross. + +"You look pale, Olive," said Ruth. "I am afraid you are over-working +yourself." + +Olive admitted that she was tired, and should be glad of some tea. Mrs. +Felton bustled about to expedite matters, and to provide something +better than usual, and Olive exerted herself to eat, that she might +not be disappointed, but it was very hard work. She sat up as late as +usual, apparently reading attentively, but in reality seeing nothing +but blank confusion upon the page before her, while repeating to +herself that she would not think of it till bed-time. + +Bed-time came at last, and she sat down alone with her trouble, and +looked at it, almost as though it had been a bodily presence of evil +which it was necessary to face and conquer. What was it, after all? +Walter Landon was going to be married and what of that? Had she not +said to herself, twenty times, that this was nothing but friendship? +Vain subterfuge—miserable lie! She knew better—she had known it all the +time. Abby might well say that Olive could not understand her feelings, +but she knew them now. She had blamed and pitied—Abby herself had never +sunk so low as she. + +She set herself to examine all their intercourse from the first, but +there was no comfort in that. She could not blame Walter, for he +had never showed a mark of any thing but mere friendship. No; the +truth was plain—she had given away her heart to a man who had never +asked for it, and who did not care for it. She had weakly, miserably +permitted herself to go on, and be drawn in, to the shipwreck of +peace, self-respect—every thing. She had not seen him for several +days: perhaps he had discovered her secret, and was keeping away in +compassion to her. + +Her eyes overflowed with hot tears at last, but they gave her no +relief. She could see nothing, think of nothing, to extenuate her +miserable folly. She had gone on, quietly placing upon a stranger all +her hopes and wishes, and setting him in the place of God, till at last +she discovered that she was dependent upon him for all her happiness +that she was inexpressibly wretched at the thought of his caring for +any one else. There was no excuse, no comfort, no hope. She had loved +an idol more than God, and God had forsaken her, while she had found +too late that her idol was not hers, but another's. What should she do? + +She slept, at last, from very weariness of body, but when she awaked, +the load was still upon her heart, dull, heavy, oppressive, crushing +her very life out. She prayed, but without comfort, and set about her +daily task, with a feeling of relief at having something tangible to +do, wherewith she was forced to occupy her thoughts and hands. Nobody +could have seen any difference in her, except that she was rather more +particular than usual about the lessons, and had, perhaps, more than +ordinary patience with the dullness and stupidity of some of the girls, +and the perverseness of others. She was careful to ask Catharine Gordon +about Annette. + +"Papa thinks she is much worse," said little Kitty, with a quivering +lip. "He said so this morning. Oh! Won't it be too bad if she should +die!" And the child burst into tears, for the families had long been on +terms of intimacy, and she was very much attached to Annette. + +Olive tried to comfort her, while her own tears fell fast. They +relieved her a little, but she dared not indulge in them, and was soon +as calm as ever. + +"Olive; do you feel able to watch to-night?" asked Ruth, at the +tea-table, after she had studied Olive's face a little. + +"Yes, indeed," replied Olive, glad of any duty that promised +self-forgetfulness for a time. "Where?" + +"With that Mrs. Beman and her child," said Ruth. "You know they both +have the measles. The child is rather better, but it is doubtful +whether the woman can live through the night." + +"I don't believe Olive is able," said Mrs. Felton. "She looks tired +now. Why don't you ask Mrs. Gregory, or Mrs. Dennison?" + +"Mrs. Gregory is sick herself, and Mrs. Dennison and Mrs. Jones are +engaged," said Ruth, briefly. + +Olive knew that they were going to Mrs. Vander Heyden's, where some of +the younger children had been added to the sick-list. "I am quite well, +and shall be glad to go," she repeated. "I suppose you will set out +early." + +Ruth assented, and before nine they were at Mrs. Beman's. They were +poor but respectable people, of the sort who, without any visible +drawback, never seem to prosper, but always remain about where they set +out. The house was clean and comfortable, and they seemed to have every +thing necessary for the sick. + +The husband and eldest daughter, a girl of twelve or fourteen, though +worn out with fatigue, were unwilling to retire as they thought there +was a change in the sick woman. + +And on going near the bed, Ruth's experienced eye saw at once that +the messenger was there. She whispered to Olive to take the baby, and +relieve the little girl who was quietly weeping by the fireside. + +The poor woman was quite sensible, and able to speak a little. She had +been but a plain, hard-working person all her life, but the majestic +presence of death was with her, and all around her felt its power. In +few but earnest words, she commended the little one to its sister's +care. + +"God deal with you, Sally, as you deal with that motherless child. I +have tried to be a mother to you, and to treat you, in all things, like +my own, and I have loved you as well, for aught I know. Be a good girl, +Sally, and take good care—" + +"I will, mother," sobbed the child. "I'll be good to Liddy." + +The dying woman seemed satisfied, and lay quietly for a little while. +"I've known trouble and sorrow of all sorts," she said, opening her +eyes again, "more than most of my age, but I've had help through it +all. It's most over now. Give me my baby. You look sad, young woman," +she remarked, as Olive laid it in her arms. "If you've got trouble, +don't rest in yourself, nor in any man. Trust in the Lord. God bless +you all!" + +These were her last words, and in a few minutes, she was gone. + +Some of the neighboring women came in and laid out the body. Mr. Beman +and Sally retired to rest, and Olive and Ruth were left with the child +and its dead mother. Neither of them felt inclined to talk. The little +one seemed disposed to slumber, and Olive held it in her arms and +looked at its wasted features, but her thoughts were far away. The +bitter feeling of injury was gone, but she felt very, very desolate. +All the sorrows of her life returned upon her; her own orphaned +state—Abby's misconduct and danger—Laura's estrangement—her uncle's +probable anger—all were present to her at once. She felt as though she +could never remember a time when she had been happy. Past, present, +and future seemed shrouded in blackness, and she could see no hope +of any light. She prayed for submission to the will of God, and that +Annette's life might be spared, and by and by she found that she could +be thankful that she had only herself to blame, and not Walter. + +In the long, long hours before daybreak she had made her final resolve. +She had a profession—that certainly was a comfort. The experiment of +teaching had been tried with success. If she could never be happy +again, at least she could be useful, and with all the earnestness of +her nature, she consecrated herself to the work, and resolved with +God's help to follow it out. + +Still, with all this, her heart would not be quiet, but throbbed and +struggled under that crushing pain: still her weary spirit repeated +over and over again: "How wretched, how very wretched I am!" + +The child passed an easy night and was clearly much better in the +morning. Neighbors came in and promised to attend to every thing +necessary. + +As Ruth and Olive were walking homeward at sunrise, the bell began +to toll. They looked at each other, but did not speak. The age was +struck—twenty—and then two strokes followed to show that a woman was +dead. + +"Annette!" said Olive. + +"It must be, I suppose," Ruth replied, sighing, "Poor child!" + +Olive could not repress her tears as she thought of the blooming girl +she had so lately seen in health and spirits, and they flowed still +faster as she thought of Walter's grief—grief which she could not +comfort and hardly sympathize with. + +Ruth pressed her hand, but said nothing. She had partly guessed the +state of the case the day before, but doing as she would be done by, +she had not said a word. She advised her friend to lie down, and try to +sleep, and Olive was glad to obey. + +All that day she suffered greatly, but the next—the resurrection +morning—she found relief at last. In the presence of the white carved +symbols of infinite love and infinite sorrow, she seemed to hear a +whisper of peace; her load grew less oppressive with every prayer, and +when after the distribution of the elements, she rose from her knees, +she found she had left it behind her. The Comforter was come to her, +and she found strength to say and to feel, from her heart's depths, +"Not my will, but Thine be done." + +Before, she had felt that she should soon die, and rejoiced in the +thought, but now the language of her soul was: "I shall not die but +live and declare the loving-kindness of the Lord." + +"Olive," said a well-known voice behind her, as they were going out of +church. + +She turned and saw Walter. He looked pale and worn out with grief and +watching. + +"Will you go and see Louisa?" he asked, as he offered his hand. "She +is at Mrs. Jones's, and needs some one with her; not that she is ill, +but she is worn out and nervous. Can you go and stay with her this +afternoon?" + +"I will," replied Olive, grateful for the proof of confidence. + +"When do you go?" he asked. + +"On Wednesday; possibly on Tuesday, if my uncle comes." + +"I may not see you again before you go," said Walter. "They feel as +though they could not spare me there, and Agnes is very sick. God bless +you, Olive, till we meet again." + +"God bless and comfort you, Walter," returned Olive calmly. + +She went at once to Mrs. Jones's, and found Louisa suffering from +severe nervous headache, the result of fatigue and excitement; for +she was a delicate child, and somewhat spoiled withal. Olive found it +necessary to exert a little authority over her to make her stop crying, +and the effort necessary to take care of her patient was useful to +herself. + +Louisa was better in the evening, but she begged hard to have Olive +stay with her all night, and Olive consented. + + +She was walking slowly homeward the next morning, glad that there was +no school, when she saw a carriage drive up to Mrs. Felton's, and a +gentleman get out, who she was sure was her uncle. Her heart almost +failed her as she hurried forward. She had not expected him till +evening at soonest, and not very much till Tuesday. He must have left +home Sunday night, an action so contrary to all his habits as to fill +her with fear of she knew not what calamity. + +"Your uncle is come," said Ruth, meeting her at the door, and observing +her evident agitation with surprise. + +Olive waited not to hear more lest her resolution should fail her +entirely, but hastily opened the parlor-door. Mr. Merton was standing +opposite it, and her heart sunk as she met his glance. + +"I bring you pleasant news, Miss McHenry," were his first words, "but +no doubt you are prepared for them, since you have been in the secret +from the first." + +"What is the matter, uncle?" Olive rather gasped than spoke. + +"Read that letter," handing her one with the seal unbroken. "It will +probably tell you more than I can." + +Olive tried, but the words swam before her eyes, and her head whirled. +She looked at her uncle imploringly. "I can not see," she said; "do +tell me!" + +"Your sister Abby is married," replied Mr. Merton abruptly, "and I +suspect—" "You knew as much before," he was going to add, but he saw +Olive's lips grow white, and before he could reach her, she fell to the +ground. + +It was the drop too much in the full cup, and for the first time in her +life, she fainted away. + +Happily Ruth was at hand, and Mrs. Felton was out. + +Olive soon revived, and Ruth left her to attend to some household call. + +"When, uncle?" asked Olive, after a short silence. + +"Olive," said her uncle, "I used to think I could trust you implicitly, +and even now, I on hardly believe that you would deceive me. Before +I reply to any questions, tell me all you know about this miserable +business." + +Olive roused herself and went through with the story, from beginning to +end. + +Mr. Merton listened fixedly. "Why did you not write and tell me?" he +asked, when she had finished. + +"I hoped to prevail upon Abby to do so herself, and I thought that +would be much better. Besides, what right had I to betray her secret? I +had no authority over her, and she told me in confidence." + +"But you made yourself privy to her subterfuge in corresponding with +that man!" + +"I did not know for certain that she did correspond with him," said +Olive, "though I guessed it from something Charlotte said. I had made +up my mind to tell you all when you came, and risk the consequences." + +"Then she has told you nothing about this precious marriage?" + +"Not a word, sir! I have all her letters, and can show them to you," +she added, proudly, for she was beginning to feel indignant. "Perhaps +you will believe them, unless you choose to accuse me of forgery as +well as lying." + +"Sit still," said her uncle. "I have no desire to see her letters, +or to hear from her again. My only object is to clear you from the +imputation of being engaged in the conspiracy, which, it seems, she +has been carrying on for a year or more. I believe we have done you +injustice, and I beg your pardon. I know that you must feel it more +than any of us, my poor child!" he continued, kissing her forehead. + +"How did it happen?" asked Olive, after an interval of silence. "How +did it all come out?" + +"It came out by degrees. I could not help seeing that something more +was the matter with her, than merely your going away, and I began to +watch her. It seems, too, that your aunt Dimsden had her suspicions, +even before Forester went to M., but instead of coming and telling me, +as she should have done, she talked to other people—" + +"Just like her," said Olive, bitterly. + +"I do not defend Mrs. Dimsden," Mr. Merton continued. "She did very +wrong, and so I have told her. Well, as I have said, my suspicions were +aroused, and I watched her, but I could find nothing to justify them. I +wish now I had questioned her about it." + +"Oh! Why didn't you?" exclaimed Olive, in renewed grief. "If you had +done so kindly, she would have told you all; I am sure she would. She +was naturally so open. O my child, my darling child!" + +"I was wrong, Olive, but I acted for the best. After a time, Forester +returned, and came at once to our house, where he met with a cool +reception from all but Abby. I had made up my mind to demand a full +explanation from him, but I was frustrated. He had hardly sat down +before Mrs. Dimsden and Laura came in. Charlotte, who I think had +no suspicions, asked after the Misses Jennings, with whom Abby had, +apparently, been maintaining a correspondence for three or four months. +Forester looked confused and annoyed, and Abby colored deeply. + +"But before either of them had time to reply, Laura exclaimed, 'Why, +Charlotte, the Misses Jennings went to Kentucky long ago—just after +they left school.' + +"The truth flashed upon me at once, and I was going to speak, when +Forester said, with perfect ease: 'Are you sure, Miss Laura? Do you +make a study of the M. directory?' + +"Abby said not a word, but I saw that she was ready to drop. I did not +want to get up a scene before them, and turned the conversation. They +did not stay long, and as soon as they were gone, I turned to Abby and +demanded an explanation—Mr. Forester standing by. She began to cry, of +course, and I could get nothing out of her. + +"Forester then took the matter upon himself, and informed me that he +had been engaged to Abby almost a year, and intended to marry her, with +my consent, if I would give it—otherwise without it. He complimented +me, by saying that but for my prejudice against him, and harshness +when I was opposed, they should have confided in me, and declared that +you had known and approved the whole matter from the beginning. This +enraged me more than any thing else, and I ordered Abby to leave the +room and go to her own apartment. + +"Mr. Forester had the coolness to follow her to the door, and exchange +some words with her in German, which, of course, I did not understand. +He then returned and requested to know what my intentions were with +regard to Abby. I can not tell you all about it, but the end was, that +I ordered him to leave the house. + +"I went up to Abby's room, but I found she had locked herself in, and +I could get nothing from her. It was the same in the morning—she would +take no breakfast, nor open her door, and I went to the office, hoping +that she would be more reasonable by night. When I came home, I found +Mrs. Merton and Charlotte in great alarm. The door had not been opened, +nor any movement heard. I had then no hesitation in forcing the door, +but she was gone—" He paused, perhaps to give himself time to control +his voice, which certainly trembled very much. + +Olive was weeping bitterly. + +"She had taken very little except what she had on. She even left behind +a watch and chain I gave her at Christmas, and all her trinkets, all +her letters, except the last one from you." + +"And did she leave nothing for me?" + +"Yes, a note—the one you have in your hands." + +Olive began to read aloud, but Mr. Merton interrupted her: "Read to +yourself, Olive; I do not wish to hear one word from her." + +She read accordingly: + + "I am going to be married at last, Olive. I did not mean to take such a +step till you came home, but they have driven me to it. Uncle is just +as harsh and unjust as I knew he would be, but I thank him for all his +kindness to me, and aunt, too. I shall take nothing more with me than I +can help. I will write just as soon as I am settled anywhere." + +"Did you hear nothing of her afterwards?" Olive asked, as soon as she +could speak. + +"Nothing, except a notice of their marriage in the paper that evening. +I told you I wished to hear nothing more. She has taken her own course, +and she must abide by it. This subject will necessarily be renewed when +we reach home, but till then, I wish to have it dropped entirely. You +look very much worn and fatigued," he said kindly. "I am afraid you are +working too hard." + +"Oh! No," replica Olive, "I like it very much, and do not usually get +over-tired, but there has been a good deal of sickness in town, and I +have been nursing as well as teaching. One of our loveliest girls died +yesterday." + +"Then you find the place pleasant?" + +"Very much so. I should have been quite happy the last few months if my +mind had been at ease about Abby. The school is a very nice one, and +there are a good many agreeable people here. I enjoy the idea of coming +back very much." + +"Do you know a young Mr. Landon?" asked Mr. Merton. + +"Yes, very well," replied Olive, thankful that she could answer +steadily, and without coloring. "He is a great favorite here, and +thought very talented." + +"He is a rising young man," replied her uncle. "I heard him make an +argument, not long ago, which would have done credit to many an older +lawyer. I should like to meet him." + +"You will not be likely to do so, now," said Olive. "The young lady who +died yesterday, Miss Vander Heyden, was his cousin, and they were said +to be engaged." + +"I thought of returning to-night," said Mr. Merton, rising, "but I see +you are unfit for it. We will go to-morrow morning, if you please, and +till then you must take the time to rest. I shall stay at the hotel, +and must go down now, and secure a room." + +When he was gone, Olive sat a little while, perfectly still. It did +not seem possible for her to make an exertion. She was stunned and +overwhelmed to such a degree, by the events of the last few days, +that she seemed to have lost power of sense or feeling. She was still +sitting in precisely the same attitude, when a shadow fell before her, +a soft arm was passed round her neck, and Augusta sat down beside her. + +Olive laid her head on her shoulder. "Have you heard?" she asked. + +"I have heard nothing, love, except that you were in trouble, and had +received sad news from home? Is it your sister?" + +Olive assented, silently. + +"I did not know she was ill," said Augusta, after a little pause. + +"It is not that," said Olive. "It almost seems as though the news +of her death would not be half as hard to bear. She is married, +Augusta—married against my uncle's wishes, and without his knowledge, +to a man utterly unworthy of her. She has carried on a course of +deception for months, and I see plainly that my uncle is too angry ever +to forgive her. And I might have prevented it all by a little decision +and courage." + +"How?" + +Olive went over the outline of the story, adding at the end: + +"I might have prevented the whole thing if I had staid at home, as +they wanted me to—if I had not been so proud, and so set upon being +independent. It is all my fault." + +"I do not think so," replied Augusta, gently. "You acted for the best, +so far as I can see, and that is all we can ever do. I do not really +see that you could have acted otherwise." + +"I might have told uncle at first." + +"You forget that he was away, and you had no opportunity. Besides, you +were doubtful whether you had the right to do so. No, Olive, you are +wrong, now—naturally so, but still wrong. Don't you remember what Mrs. +Dennison said about her little boy's sickness and death? Even supposing +that you made a mistake, which I do not allow—" + +"You do not know, Augusta," said Olive. "You have not tried it. I do +not mean that you have not suffered, but not in this way—not by the +unworthiness of those you loved. I could bear any thing else." + +"Come and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow," repeated +Augusta, involuntarily. "Olive, if your sister has sinned, she is yet +young, and has time for repentance before her. Others have sinned much +more deeply, against more warnings and opportunities for repentance, +and at last been cut off in the midst of their sins. I had a dear +brother—" She paused. "We had little comfort in his life or death." + +"I am impatient, I know," said Olive, sighing, "but I have had so much, +the last few days. I thought I had made up my mind to patience and +self-forgetfulness, but this has overcome me entirely. I feel as though +I could not have it so." + +"God has comfort for all sorrows, Olive." + +"I used to think so, before I had any. Nay, I thought so no longer ago +than yesterday, but to-day all seems dark as night again." + +"Have patience, my child, and accept the bitter cup. He will send the +sweet in his own time, and if we have no pleasures in this world, we +shall always have duties; that is one comfort. And, after all, it is +but for a day." + +"A long, long, dreary day, Augusta." + +"Sorrow 'may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.' When +we look at the past through dying eyes, it will seem very short, +believe me; and we go to no uncertain future, my love. We know in whom +we have believed, and He will make all plain. Once more, dearest, +have patience! Drink of the cup which He drank, and be baptized with +the baptism that He was baptized withal. It is indeed not joyous, but +grievous, but it worketh the peaceable fruits of righteousness to +them that are exercised thereby. For look how high the heavens are in +comparison of the earth—so great is the Lord's mercy to them that fear +him. Look how far, also, the east is from the west—so far hath He set +our sins from us. 'Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD +pitieth them that fear him.'" + +"Augusta, I know I am impatient and wrong. I will try not to be so." + +"I did not mean to reprove you, dearest." + +"No, you comfort me. You have done me good, but I feel so weary and +desolate. I have counted so on seeing Abby, when I went home. She has +always been so near my heart. Oh! I ought never to have left her. I +knew what a child she was, and it was my duty to have staid with her, +but I did not see it then. And now she is gone—lost to me forever!" And +again she gave way to a violent burst of grief which both perplexed +and alarmed Augusta, and she glanced at Ruth, who had just entered, as +though to ask what should be done. + +"Olive," said Ruth, with a little more of austerity than usual in her +tone, and taking both her hands, "this will never do. You have duties +before you which will require all your strength, and this is not the +way to fit yourself for them. You must come up-stairs and lie down, and +let me do your packing. You are worn out, for want of sleep, and will +be sick to-morrow. Come with me, like a good girl." + +Olive obeyed like a child. She was, indeed, utterly worn out and +exhausted. Augusta sat down beside her, and read in her soft voice, +selections from Scripture. In a few minutes, Olive's sobs grew less +frequent, her eyes closed, and her friend had the satisfaction of +seeing her in a deep sleep, from which she arose composed and refreshed. + + + +CHAPTER NINTH. + +OLIVE'S heart sank as she approached home the next evening, and thought +of the reception she was likely to meet with, and how sad it would be +without Abby. + +Mr. Merton had been very kind all day, but he had said little, and +not one word about the matter that was clearly occupying both their +thoughts. She dared not speak herself, for he had positively forbidden +her to renew the subject till they reached home. She knew how Mrs. +Merton would feel, very well. Not only her affections (and Abby had +always been very dear to her) were wounded, but also her pride, and +that in the tenderest point. Aunt Rebecca had very particular notions +upon the subject of the education of young ladies. Her ideas of +propriety were very strict, and she was often shocked by the freedoms +indulged in by some of the young ladies in town. She prided herself +upon the care with which her daughters and nieces had been educated, +and more than one young girl, who had been secretly indignant at seeing +Olive and Abby held up to them as models, would triumph greatly over +this result of the boasted system. + +As they rode up from the depot, Olive leaned back in the carriage, and +shut her eyes, while her soul poured itself out in an earnest prayer +for strength and patience. + +"Be calm, Olive. You shall be cleared from suspicion," said her uncle, +as he assisted her to alight. + +Mrs. Merton stood at the door, and received her husband warmly, as +did Charlotte, but neither of them took the least notice of Olive, +till they entered the drawing-room, when Mrs. Merton said, in her most +freezing tones: + +"Your room is prepared, Miss McHenry. Perhaps you will have the +goodness to retire to it at once." + +Olive did not move from the attitude in which she had drawn herself up, +but she turned her eyes to her uncle. He did not speak. + +"Before I sit down in this house, Mrs. Merton," she returned, in tones +as calm, though not so cold as her own, "I must demand to be freed +from the unjust suspicion to which I have been subjected. My uncle, I +believe, is convinced of my innocence. If he chooses to justify me, I +shall be glad. If not, I shall be obliged to seek some other shelter +for the night." + +Charlotte's eyes flashed fire. Mrs. Merton turned to her husband. + +"I fully believe Olive to be innocent," said Mr. Merton, with +emphasis. "She has convinced me that though she knew of Mr. Forester's +engagement, it was only the night before she left home that she was +informed, and nothing but indecision respecting the best course of +action prevented her from informing me immediately. I think she mistook +her duty, but I fully believe that she acted from the best motives." + +"I am very glad to hear you say so," replied Mrs. Merton, unbending at +once. "Olive, I am sorry you met with such a cold reception, but you +must remember that we have had great provocation. Let me untie your +bonnet," she added, kissing her kindly; "it is a sad coming home foe +you, my poor child, when we had hoped to be so happy together." + +Olive struggled to repress her tears, and succeeded in doing so till +she found herself alone in her own room—Abby's room. It was just as +she had left it. The last book she had been reading was turned down +upon the open writing-desk, and Abby's personal property was strewed +about the room in the picturesque confusion usual with her, when she +had no one to pick up after her. The key was in her trinket-box, and +on opening it, Olive perceived that she had left all her ornaments. +Nothing was missing from the room but the old Bible and prayer-book, +her mother's gifts. Olive wondered how she could have the heart to take +them. + +The bitterness of her grief returned with ten-fold violence, and when +Mrs. Merton herself came up to look after her, she was so alarmed at +the state in which she found her usually composed and undemonstrative +niece that she sent her to bed at once, administered ether and other +restoratives, and sat by her till she fell asleep. + + +At breakfast next morning, Olive was treated just as usual by her uncle +and aunt, but Charlotte did not relax in her stiffness at all. She +treated Olive with ceremonious politeness, but exchanged no more words +with her than were exacted by the courtesies of the table. Olive felt +the coldness very much, for she had unconsciously relied a good deal +upon Charlotte's sympathy and friendship. + +The meal passed almost in silence, no one seeming inclined to talk. As +they were about rising from table, a servant brought in the letters and +papers: there were two letters for Olive, and her heart beat fast as +she recognized on one of them Abby's well-known handwriting. + +Mr. Merton saw it, too. "Where is she?" he asked, when he saw that +Olive had finished reading it. + +"She is at M.," replied Olive, handing him the letter, but he repelled +her hand. + +"That is all. You will please to pack up all her personal property, +and I will see that it is forwarded, and then I require that all +intercourse with her on the part of this family shall cease." + +"Do you mean that prohibition to apply to me, uncle?" asked Olive. + +"Certainly." + +"I can not consent to it, sir," she replied, respectfully but firmly. +"I can not promise to cease all intercourse with my poor Abby. That she +has done wrong I do not deny, but I love her none the less, and I can +never forget that she is my sister. She will need friends now more than +ever, and I certainly shall not desert her." + +"Olive McHenry, you greatly forget yourself," said Mr. Merton sternly. +"Do you know to whom you are speaking?" + +"Hardly," replied Olive, almost involuntarily. "You are so unlike +yourself that I might well be excused for forgetting it. But what if +Abby has sinned?" she went on, rather surprised at her own courage. +"What are we, that we should be unforgiving? Have we no need of mercy +ourselves? No, I can never consent to give up my sister, till she gives +me up. And then, she is such a child—so young in years, and so much +younger in mind. It seems but yesterday that she was playing with her +dolls, sitting on the floor by your side, uncle! Do you remember the +first night you came to our house—the night after mother died, and how +you found Abby lying on the bed by her, and could not coax her away, +till you came and took her, and she cried herself to sleep in your +arms? It seems such a very little while ago!" + +"We will let the subject drop for a little, I think," said Mrs. Merton, +rising. "You will have a good deal to do this morning. Have a little +patience, my dear," she continued, when Mr. Merton had left the room. +"Your uncle is deeply wounded, and feels as I do, that we ought to show +our disapprobation of Abby's course, but I don't think he will apply +that to you." + +"Especially as Miss McHenry was in the secret from the beginning," said +Charlotte, "and quite as much to blame as the poor child herself." + +Mrs. Merton was leaving the room, and did not hear Charlotte's remark. +"You are determined to suspect me, Charlotte," said Olive. + +"I know you, Olive McHenry, as I knew you in school. You blinded me for +a little time with your well-acted candor and friendliness, but my eyes +are opened. I am sorry they are, for I thought I was going to have an +intimate friend, for once in my life." + +"You think—" Olive began. + +"I know," said Charlotte, interrupting her, "that Abby, simple child +that she is, would never have been able to carry on such a system of +deception, unless some one had supported her in it. You thought, no +doubt, that it would be a very nice thing for you to be my father's +favorite niece, and to have one less to share the property and you +imagined that an elopement would be a good way to get rid of Abby, and +illustrate your own virtues. You may find yourself mistaken, as deep as +you think yourself." + +"I shall not reply to your insinuations, Charlotte," returned Olive. +"They are too foolish and unreasonable to merit an answer. You yourself +promised to watch over Abby while I was gone: how you have fulfilled +that trust you yourself best know. But there is no use in talking. I +thought you had outgrown your childish jealousy, but it seems not." + +With these words, she left the room and went up-stairs, where she +occupied herself in looking over Abby's clothes, to see if they needed +any putting in order. Among them she found all the letters which she +had written during the winter, and she was wondering at Abby's leaving +them behind, when Charlotte entered, with her hands full of books. + +"These are Abby's," she said, shortly. + +"Thank you," Olive quietly replied; "please to lay them on the table." + +Charlotte lingered a little, looking over the books. After a moment, +she said, in the same abrupt way, "Can I help you?" + +"No, thank you," replied Olive, surprised at the offer. + +But Charlotte did not go; she seemed looking for something. + +"Charlotte," said Olive, after a short struggle with her pride, "would +you rather believe me innocent or guilty?" + +"Innocent, if I could," was the reply. + +"Here are all the letters I have written to Abby since I left home. If +you wish, you can look them over, and satisfy yourself. I do not ask +you to, but you can if you choose." + +She laid the package down by her cousin, and busied herself with the +drawers. But, glancing in the mirror a few minutes afterwards, she saw +that Charlotte was deeply engaged in their perusal. Neither of them +spoke for almost an hour. Then Charlotte said, laying down the last +letter: + +"Olive, you are innocent. I have done you great injustice, and I ask +your pardon." + +"It is granted," said Olive, taking the offered hand, and kissing her. + +"What do you mean to do about corresponding with her?" asked Charlotte. + +"What would you do yourself in such a case?" + +"I am afraid I should be too angry with her to care much about it," +replied Charlotte. "If my sister had acted as Abby has, I should never +forgive her." + +"Then you would make up your mind not to be forgiven yourself, I +suppose?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"'If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Heavenly +Father forgive your trespasses,'" Olive repeated. "Which of us can +afford to cherish anger upon such conditions?" + +"I never understand that sort of talk," said Charlotte; "it all sounds +cant alike to me." + +"Just because you don't understand it. If should call your pleasure in +geology cant, you would consider that rather a narrow-minded view, I +think." + +"We won't dispute it now," returned Charlotte. "Don't some of these +clothes need repairing? Abby's things generally do. Let me put the +stockings in order." + +Olive consented, and they busied themselves together all the morning. +They were just about concluding their labors, when a light step came +up-stairs, and Laura entered. She seemed quite subdued, and wept +bitterly as she embraced her sister. Charlotte left the room. + +"I have not been here before since she went," said Laura, after a +little; "isn't it shameful?" + +Olive assented silently. + +"It seems almost worse than if she were dead," she continued. "To think +she will be so near, and yet we can never see her, or even write to +her." + +"Don't you mean to write to her, Laura?" asked Olive. + +"I can't. Aunt Dimsden declares I shall have nothing to do with her +from this time. She says, if Abby were at the door, and it stormed ever +so hard, she would not let her in." + +"She ought to be ashamed of herself then," said Olive, indignantly. +"Her own marriage was not so very proper, from all I have heard, that +she need be the first to throw stones at poor Abby." + +"That is the very reason, child! Don't you know that people who have +done any thing questionable in that line themselves, are just the ones +who think it necessary to be ferociously proper ever afterwards?" + +"She may be as proper as she pleases, but I am not going to desert the +poor child for any of them," said Olive. "I have told uncle that I mean +to write to her, and moreover I shall stop a day in M. when I go back, +on purpose to see her." + +"But they say—at least aunt Dimsden says that Abby has done so very +wrong that she ought to be made an example of." + +"I don't deny that she has done wrong: nobody feels it more than I do, +and I do not think she ought to be treated as though she had not. But I +do say, that it is quite too much, to require us, her sisters, to give +her up, and so leave her to go more and more wrong." + +"You are independent, Olive, and can do as you please," said Laura, +sighing. "I wish I was." + +"You can be, in the same way that I am." + +"Oh! No. I never could make up my mind to teach school, or to work for +a living. I could not consent to any thing which would lower my social +position." + +"Why, Laura, I never was of so much consequence in my life, as I have +been since I went to Basswoods." + +"Yes, in such a little country place as that, but not among stylish +people." + +"But you used to be very contented, Laura: you thought no one was as +happy as yourself." + +"Aunt Dimsden is not so kind as she was," said Laura. "She is very +cross sometimes, and when she is vexed, or mortified, she bestows all +her ill-temper upon me. She has been very angry with me, for presuming +to refuse an offer without consulting her—some body that lives not a +hundred miles from Berkley Square, you know." + +"But, Laura—!" + +"Oh! Yes, I know all you would say—that he is dissipated, and a fool +besides, but you know they are rich and very fashionable, and his +sisters paid me a great deal of attention. I think all the family +were anxious for the match, but he was quite too bad. I suppose I am +bound to make a rich marriage at last—indeed, it is the only way I +see to escape from dependence, but this one was rather too much, and +I dismissed him somewhat suddenly. They were all very angry, and aunt +thinks I am almost as bad as Abby. She told me she expected I would go +the same way, and it will not be for want of sufficient provocation if +I don't." + +"But you would not marry for money alone, would you?" + +"Not perhaps for money alone; I would not marry a really bad, vulgar +man, if he was ever so rich. But if he had position, and style, and so +on, as well as money. I don't believe in all that silly, sentimental +nonsense of love, and all that, it only makes fools of people, just as +it has of Abby." + +"But it is not absolutely necessary to marry at all," said Olive. + +"I do not agree with you there, sister mine. I think it is necessary, +if a woman wants to be any body that she should marry, unless she +retires into a nunnery or something. I hope you don't mean to be an old +maid, Olive." + +"I think it most likely I shall," said Olive, sighing in spite of +herself, "but I hope to be some body nevertheless. Will you let me come +and stay with you, when I grow too old to work any longer?" + +"Of course," said Laura, "if I have any home myself. But now tell me +what you intend to do about Abby? Do you really mean to write to her?" + +"I really do. I would obey uncle in almost any thing else, but in this +I must follow my own conscience and my own feelings." + +"You can afford it," said Laura, "because you are independent, but I +dare not. Aunt has been very angry on account of the refusal, and she +says, if I do not mind what she says about this, she will leave me to +take care of myself. But if you write, give my love to Abby, and tell +her I would write too if I could—and send her these ear-rings; Maria +Lewis gave them to me, but I do not care any thing about them, and aunt +has never seen them. I have no money to buy her any thing new, and I +wanted to send her something. + +"Did I tell you that aunt Dimsden is coming over to spend the +afternoon? I believe in my heart, she is glad of Abby's marriage, and +the triumph over aunt Rebecca, till I am ready to stone her. You know I +never was very fond of aunt Rebecca myself, but I am sorry for her, and +I think aunt Dimsden ought to be ashamed of herself. I can tell you, +Olive, you think I am so well off—" + +"I never thought so, Laura," interrupted Olive. "I would rather go out +as a seamstress than live as you do." + +"Well, every one else thinks so, at any rate, but I am sometimes +tempted to say I will marry the first presentable man that comes along, +to escape from it." + +"Do give up that idea of marrying for money, Laura! I can not bear to +think of it. You will repent as surely as you do." + +"Well, I don't know," said Laura, lightly. "If you marry for money, you +are pretty sure of getting it, at any rate, and if you marry for love, +you may be deceived, you know. Now, if you have finished your packing, +do dress, and come down-stairs. I dare not face them all alone." + +"I am sure, Laura, uncle would not be angry at you for refusing Sam +Lewis. You know there is nothing he detests like an idle, frivolous +young man." + +"I don't believe he knows any thing about that," returned Laura, "but I +am always afraid of him." + +After luncheon, Laura sat down to a handkerchief she was embroidering, +and Olive to write. + +She had almost forgotten Augusta's letter, till she saw it in her +desk. It was just like Augusta herself, and Olive felt refreshed and +comforted by it. Among other news of the place, she said: + + "Jenny Vander Heyden is better, and the sickness is abating. Mr. Landon +is going away, and he told me he meant to go and see you before his +return." + +Olive's heart beat somewhat faster at the thought, and she almost +wished Augusta had not told her. After twice reading the letter, she +put it carefully away, and began writing to Abby. She sighed, as she +thought of the unsatisfactory intelligence she had to convey, but there +was no help for it, at least at present. As Mr. Merton said, she had +taken her own course, and she would have to abide by it. + +She was just finishing, when Mrs. Dimsden came in. Olive greeted her as +warmly as she could, and then asked to be excused, as she was anxious +to close her letter in time for the post. As she placed it in the vase +appropriated for the purpose, Mrs. Dimsden unceremoniously took it out +of her hand, and read the direction: "Mrs. William Forester, Eagle +Hotel, M." + +"So you have been writing to Abby, have you?" + +"Yes, ma'am," replied Olive, coolly. + +"I have forbidden Laura to do any thing of the kind," said Mrs. +Dimsden, drawing herself up: "I will not allow any young person in my +family to have any intercourse with a girl who has no more sense of +propriety than Abby. I have never thought it necessary to make as much +fuss as some people," with a glance at aunt Rebecca, "but I do think my +girls generally turn out well." + +Mrs. Merton had a way of looking at a forward or impertinent person, as +though he or she were a superfluous chair, or an intruding cat, which +she sometimes brought to bear upon her sister-in-law with great effect. + +She was silenced for a moment, and replaced the letter. + +At this moment, Charlotte entered, and looked into the vase as she +passed. + +"Charlotte," said her mother, "have I not often told you that it was +very rude to look at the direction of another person's letter?" + +Now Charlotte knew very well that this reproof was not in the least +intended for her; she took it very coolly, and sat down by Laura to +admire her work. + +Mrs. Dimsden colored furiously. "Perhaps, if you had kept a more +careful watch over your young ladies' letters, sister Merton, some +things might not have happened that have happened. I know my mother +always looked out for me." + +"Was that the reason you never did any thing improper when you were +young, aunt Dimsden?" asked Charlotte carelessly. + +It was a home-thrust, for Miss Ashly had been considered rather an +eccentric young lady, and there were some circumstances in her career, +and in the way she became Mrs. Dimsden, which were more curious than +edifying. That lady did not like to provoke a contest with Charlotte, +who was not in the least afraid of her, and by superior coolness +usually came off conqueror. She turned her head, and murmured something +about impertinence, but did not venture upon a retort. + +Mrs. Merton conversed as politely as possible with every one in the +parlor, and was especially gracious to Olive. + +Charlotte, very contrary to her usual custom, devoted herself to Laura, +with whom she very seldom condescended to talk when she could help it. +Laura was very low-spirited, and hardly said a word, though she seemed +grateful to Charlotte for her kindness, and clung to Olive in a way +very uncommon with her. Mrs. Dimsden contradicted her at every word she +said, and seemed out of all patience with her. + +When Mr. Merton came in to tea, he looked into the vase as usual, and +took out the two or three letters it contained. + +"Your letter is over weight, Olive," he said, balancing it on his +finger: "you must add another stamp." + +He smiled kindly as he handed it to her, and she received it with a +glad heart, rightly judging that it was a tacit concession of the point. + +"Thank you, uncle," she said in a voice too low to be heard by Mrs. +Dimsden, who was anxiously watching the scene, in the pleasing +anticipation of an explosion. + +He smiled again, and walked away, putting the letter in his pocket. + +But Charlotte had not finished yet. She was, as we know, not at all +an amiable young lady, and she was extremely jealous of any affront +offered to her mother. She felt that her debt to Mrs. Dimsden was not +quite discharged. + +"Papa," said she, "do you know Sam Lewis?" + +"Yes, I know him. Why?" + +"What is he like?" + +"Like a fool!" replied Mr. Merton, who was not particularly well +disposed toward idle young men just then. + +"A great many young men are that," said, Charlotte sententiously. "Is +that all there is remarkable about him?" + +"No," said Mr. Merton: "he is remarkably idle, remarkably dissipated, +and a remarkable torment to every one who ever tried to do any thing +with him." + +"That seems a pity," remarked Olive. "They used to be quite nice +people, especially Mrs. Lewis. I liked her very much." + +"They were nice people. It is the ambition to be fine and fashionable +that has spoiled them—that is, the younger part of them, for Mrs. Lewis +is just as gentle and pleasant as ever. I often feel sorry for her, +when I see how unceremoniously she is treated by her children. I tried, +for his father's sake, to do something with Sam, but it was useless. He +has not even sense enough to be governed. I heard the other day that he +was going to be married, but I hope it is not true. I should be sorry +to think that any girl could throw herself away upon such an apology +for a man." + +Charlotte's triumph was now complete, but she had too much sense to +parade it openly. And for the rest of the evening, she was as polite to +her victim as Mrs. Merton herself. + +"How could you have the heart to annoy aunt Dimsden so?" said Olive, +half-reprovingly, half-laughing, as they went up-stairs together, after +the guests had departed. "You are downright revengeful." + +"If Mrs. Dimsden annoys my mother when I am by, she may make up her +mind to be paid in her own coin," replied Charlotte. "Besides, I felt +sorry for Laura, who I saw was very uncomfortable. I really pity the +poor girl." + +"I feel very anxious about Laura," said Olive, sighing; "she is, as you +say, very uncomfortable, and she does not seem to have any thing to +sustain herself upon. I am afraid she is acting upon a wrong principle." + +"How do you mean?" + +"She thinks she must certainly marry some body, in order to be +independent and have a position in the world, and that is all she lives +for. She has, or seems to have, no idea of any higher motive in life, +nor has aunt Dimsden for her that I can see. Think of her wanting Laura +to marry Sam Lewis!" + +"Did not my father give him a charming character?" + +"I hope she will be satisfied, and not torment Laura any more about +him," said Olive. "But what is the child to do? Either aunt Dimsden is +angry with her about something, or else she is getting tired of taking +care of her—perhaps both. Laura feels as uneasy as possible under +her state of dependence, and yet she has a fixed idea that it would +be a terrible degradation for her to do any thing towards supporting +herself; and she feels as though a certain amount of luxury and a +certain position were absolutely necessary to existence. Only look at +all this and think what a temptation it places in her way, to marry +the first tolerably respectable man with a large fortune who presents +himself, and you will understand why I am so full of trouble about her." + +"But does Laura think you have degraded yourself?" asked Charlotte. + +"Aunt Dimsden does, I know," replied Olive. "As for Laura, I think she +considers me an exception to all general rules, a sort of oddity. She +went so far to-day, as to say she envied me." + +"I am sure I do," said Charlotte, sighing; "not that I am not perfectly +well off at home, and as happy as those around me can make so perverse +a person as I am, but I never can feel as though I was working to any +purpose." + +"I am sure your Greek and drawing come on nicely," said Olive. "I +never saw any one improve so much as you have. If you were a pupil of +mine, I should be proud of you. That copy of your father's portrait is +beautiful. I wish you would give it to me, to take back to Basswoods." + +"I meant it for you, as well as one I begun of my mother, and I am very +glad you like them. But Olive, I am not contented with the acquisition +of knowledge merely for the sake of knowledge. I want to do something +with it. In short," said she, smiling rather bitterly, "I am, without +any particular reason for it, about as discontented as any body can be. +I wish some one would tell me what I want." + +"I think I can tell you," said Olive, "but I rather doubt whether you +will believe me." + +"May I come and sleep with you?" asked Charlotte. + +"I shall be glad to have you," replied Olive, "if you will let me do +just as I would if I were alone." + +"Of course," said Charlotte, "we will each take our own way." + +Charlotte occupied herself with a book, while Olive went through with +her usual reading and prayers. She had herself given up even the +semblance of prayer, ever since she left the nursery. + +"Now Olive," said she, as they were curling their hair afterwards, +"tell me what I want." + +"I think you want the two sacraments, as Mr. Gregory says—the baptism +of duty and the communion of love. Are you as much in the dark as ever?" + +"No; I think I partly understand you, but please explain." + +"First, then, you want to do every single thing because it is right do +it. This rule applies to all actions, great as well as small. Moreover, +you need to have such a love to God, and such a desire to promote his +glory that you will do every thing that is right because it is pleasing +to him, and avoid every thing that is wrong for the same reason. Are +not these two motives which cover all things?" + +"Perhaps so, if one could understand them. I confess I can not. I do +not know what you mean by love to God. Can you tell me, for I suppose +you think you love him?" + +"I know I do." + +"What sort of a feeling is it?" + +"It is the same feeling that we have toward our best earthly friends, +though as much higher and purer in its character, and greater in its +degree, as the object is greater and purer. There is no selfishness +mixed with it, and no distrust, since the object is absolutely perfect +in goodness and truth. If there is happiness in loving a fallible +mortal, who may change or die at any time, must there not be much more +in loving and being loved by one in whom is no variableness, neither +shadow of turning, and who has the will and the power to order all +things as is best for us?" + +"I can not understand such a love for God. He is too far off." + +"He is not far off. His name is Emmanuel—God with us!" + +"I have no feeling towards the Supreme Being," said Charlotte, after +a little pause, "except one of terror when I think how helpless we +are—bond slaves in his hands." + +"If you loved and trusted him, you would find pleasure instead of +terror in the idea that your destinies were in the hands of one who +could do no injustice and no wrong. Then every thing you did would be +sanctified by the thought that you were doing it for him, since he is +served by every one of our duties, whatever it is. I know you always +take pleasure in working for people. I never saw you so happy, as when +you were straightening and going over those long accounts for your +father, when I was at home before. If in addition, you had had in your +mind the thought of pleasing your Father in heaven, you would have been +still happier." + +"But, Olive, do you not think there is danger of losing one's reverence +for the Supreme by thus mixing him up with all the common and daily +concerns of life?" + +"If there is," replied Olive, "we are not answerable for it, since he +himself says that not a sparrow falls to the ground without him, and +that whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we must do all to the +glory of God." + +"And does this feeling really comfort you, Olive, when you are in +trouble? I have heard people talk about religious consolations, but I +always took it all for cant." + +"Take care," said Olive, "that in dreading and avoiding cant, you +do not fall into it yourself, and that of the worst kind—that of +condemning as cant all that you do not understand. Yes, I have found, +more than ever before, the great comfort of having such a trust and +confidence in God, as I have described. But for that, I do not believe +I could have lived through this last week. It is all that gives me any +hope about Abby. She has been so well taught, and the child of so many +prayers, that I can not but think she will come right at last." + +"I wish I felt so," said Charlotte sighing, "but I can not, and I do +not know how to attain to it." + +"Prayer and repentance are the only ways I know," replied Olive. "The +bitter comes before the sweet; and the godly sorrow that worketh +repentance must precede the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. +We must repent in sackcloth and ashes, before we can rejoice with joy +unspeakable and full of glory. Do try, Charlotte—I know you will be so +much happier, not only here but hereafter." + +"I will make no promises," said Charlotte, "but I will think of what +you have said, and I am very much obliged to you for speaking so +freely, and not being shocked at me. You do not know how miserable I +was at the thought that I had been deceived in you after all. If you +did, you would not wonder that I was so savage when you first came +home." + + + +CHAPTER TENTH. + +ALREADY half the time allotted to Olive's vacation had passed, and +she was beginning to think with mingled pain and pleasure of a speedy +return to Basswoods, and her duties there. She knew that she was sure +of a very warm welcome, not only from Ruth and Augusta, but also from +her pupils, who were almost all very much attached to her. She liked +the place and the people; perhaps too, she enjoyed the idea of being a +person of a good deal of consequence; she liked the quiet and regular +employment, and there was a great pleasure in witnessing the gradual +improvement of the girls under her charge, not only in book-learning, +but also in manners and in those minor morals which affect so much the +comfort of our daily lives. + +Sadly as the matter had resulted, she felt as though a mountain's +weight was removed from her mind in getting rid of her secret, and she +could not help whispering to herself that the marriage might after all +turn out better than they feared—that William might settle down, now +that he had the responsibility of a wife upon his hands, and become an +industrious man, after all. She intuitively felt that this consolation +would not bear much examination, but it comforted her for the time. + +She had rather reluctantly given up her plan of stopping in M. to make +Abby a visit, at Mr. Merton's urgent advice. + +"You had better defer your visit, at least till your return, Olive," he +said, when she mentioned her desire to him. "Abby will be in no state +to bear reason just now. She has not had time to find out her mistake +yet. Moreover, I do not believe you will be very welcome—at least to +Mr. Forester. He will not be likely to forgive your plain speaking to +him and to Abby, and especially your bringing him out in a downright +falsehood. Abby is altogether under his influence, and sees through his +eyes. I shall not forbid your going, but if you will be advised by one +who has seen much more of the world than you have, you will defer your +visit for the present." + +So Olive wrote to her sister to say she was not coming, and had the +mortification to perceive by the tone of Abby's next letter that it was +a great relief to her. For the first time, Mr. Merton asked to see the +letter. + +"You see I was right," said he, briefly, as he handed it back to her, +"but do not be grieved, my dear. The time will come when Abby will be +glad enough to have you with her." + + +Of Laura, Olive saw very little. Aunt Dimsden had never encouraged +their intimacy to any great degree, and she now told Olive plainly +that she filled Laura's head with notions very unfit for a girl in +her circumstances. "Your romantic ideas of disinterestedness and +independence sound very well, but let me tell you, you will find out +their fallacy when it is too late." + +"When will that be, aunt?" asked Olive. + +"When you see Miss Dimsden at the head of society, mistress of a fine +establishment, and surrounded with every luxury, while Miss McHenry is +still a drudging school-mistress, and a faded old maid, or at best, the +wife of some country parson, obliged to struggle the year round to make +both ends meet, and darning her children's ragged stockings, while her +sister is spending her hundreds a day." + +"I don't think I shall ever marry a minister," said Olive, "though I +know some ministers' wives who are very happy people." + +"Well, a school-master, then—perhaps the other teacher in the academy." + +Olive gave way to incessant laughter at the idea of exchanging her +maiden name for the style and title of Mrs. Simon Prendergrass. "I +might do worse," she said, endeavoring to compose her risibles. "Mr. +Prendergrass is a very nice man, and has quite a good little property, +only he invests it all in books that nobody can read but himself." + +"You had better set your cap for him," was the elegant reply. "I don't +believe you will ever do any better. But be that as it may, I will not +have you filling Laura's head with romantic notions. I have brought her +up, and I have the best right to her, and I will agree to give up," +("what" she did not state,) "if she does not turn out better than any +of you. As for Charlotte, she is an impertinent little hussy. I only +wish I had her. I'd bring down her spirits, I'll engage." + +True to her word, Mrs. Dimsden contrived to keep the sisters apart, and +Olive hardly saw any thing of Laura, except in presence of others. Even +when they were together, she could not help feeling very painfully how +very little they had in common. Charlotte was much more of a companion +for her, for though, as we have seen, almost entirely irreligious, +she was not frivolous, and she utterly despised that dependence for +happiness upon fashion and position in which poor Laura had been +educated. + +Mrs. Merton was, perhaps, almost as worldly as Mrs. Dimsden, but +it showed itself in a different way. Having been for many years at +the head of society, in the place where she resided, and needing no +struggle to maintain her position, she was quite too firm to care much +about being fashionable. She gave parties when and how she pleased, +and was always sure of as many people as she chose to invite. She was +not at all afraid to dress as she liked, or to say that she could not +afford this or that, nor was she ashamed of having her carriage seen +standing in an unfashionable street, at the doors of unfashionable +people. Regarded in a religious point of view, her worldliness was, +perhaps, no better than that of her sister-in-law, but it must be +admitted that it was less destructive to every thing like integrity and +solidity of character. + + +There was one subject of contemplation which was constantly presenting +itself to Olive's mind, and from which she as constantly turned her +thoughts, as far as she could, and that subject was Walter Landon. +Would he come and see her? she wondered. Augusta had said nothing more +about him, though she spoke of the Vander Heydens several times, and +Ruth had never mentioned his name. + +"And why," she proceeded to ask herself with severity, "should she wish +him to come? What was he to her, more than any other acquaintance in +the world? Would not—ought not all his thoughts and affections to be +buried in Annette's grave?" + +Olive felt a loss of self-respect every time she suffered her mind to +dwell upon these topics, and invariably told herself that Mr. Landon +was nothing to her, and that it was very wrong and foolish to think +of him at all. But, though all this was undoubtedly true, it did not +prevent her from reading Augusta's first letter several times over, nor +hinder her heart from beating faster every time the door-bell rang, and +sinking sadly when the person who was nothing to her did not make his +appearance. + +One night, during the last week of her vacation, there was a ring at +the door, and a strange voice was heard, inquiring whether Mrs. Merton +lived there, and secondly whether she was at home. + +"I wonder who that is?" said Charlotte. + +Olive did not answer, though she had recognized the first tone of his +voice. Her heart was beating inconceivably fast just then. + +A tall, gentlemanly personage entered the room, with a bow which even +Laura might have approved. + +"Mr. Landon," announced Edward, the Black Prince, approvingly; for +Edward was an excellent judge of a gentleman. + +Mr. Landon was greeted with perfect composure, and a proper degree of +warmth by Miss McHenry, and then presented to her uncle and aunt. Mr. +Merton remembered having seen the young lawyer in court, and was quite +prepared to like him, and Mrs. Merton was evidently pleased by his +manners and address. + +Olive was provoked at herself for feeling anxious about the impression +he was likely to make, and asked herself again, severely, what he was +to her. + +He was very glad to see her that was certain, and replied with +warmth to her inquiries about Basswoods and its people. The sickness +had almost disappeared, the society had resumed its meetings, Mr. +Prendergrass was well, but melancholy and lonely—with a mischievous +glance at Olive, who blushed, of course, to the roots of her hair, +thereby provoking Charlotte to make various inquiries about that +gentleman. + +Olive could not help thinking Mr. Landon was in remarkably good spirits +for a young gentleman who had so lately passed through such a severe +affliction. + +She had refrained from making any inquiries about the family on the +hill for fear of wounding his feelings, but it seemed really quite +unnecessary. + +"You have not inquired for the Vander Heydens," said Mr. Landon, +himself, turning from Charlotte to Olive. + +"Augusta wrote that Jenny was out of danger," replied Olive, more +and more surprised, and somewhat hurt; for the idea of doubting Dr. +Gordon's intelligence never entered her mind. + +"Yes, they are all well, now, but very sad. The joy and life of the +household is gone." + +"Annette seemed an interesting girl," remarked Olive, hardly knowing +what to say. + +"You did not know her, Olive—Miss McHenry," he said, correcting +himself. "Annette never did herself justice with strangers, and the +absurd family pride with which her mother's head is filled, though she +had less of it than the rest, often made her appear at a disadvantage. +She had many excellent qualities, more than she herself was aware of. I +think she would have made a splendid woman." + +Olive wondered more and more. Was it possible that Walter could speak +so of a woman to whom he had been engaged, dead only two weeks? + +"You were more intimate with them than most people in the village," she +said, without exactly knowing why. + +"We were cousins, you know, and Louise has always been with them a +great deal since my mother died. I believe the good people of Basswoods +were so kind as to give us to each other, at one time, but they were +quite mistaken. We were more like brother and sister than cousins." + +"I was told that you were engaged," said Olive, feeling that she must +say something. "Dr. Gordon thought so." + +"Dr. Gordon was mistaken," replied the gentleman, with more warmth than +seemed exactly necessary. "I was very much attached to Annette, but I +should think that any one who knew us well might have seen that we were +not at all suited to each other." + +Why did her mother look so amused? Charlotte wondered. + +She certainly did look amused, and perhaps Mr. Landon saw it; for +he colored, and rather hastily turned the conversation by asking +Mr. Merton some questions about the courts in M. Henceforth the +conversation ran upon law and lawyers. Mr. Merton was enthusiastic in +his profession, and of course was delighted to find Mr. Landon the same. + +Mrs. Merton and Olive sat by, apparently much interested, though it +is doubtful whether either of them could have repeated a word of the +conversation five minutes after it ceased. + +By and by, music was proposed. Olive played, whether well or ill she +could not have told, and then she and Charlotte sang a duet together. + +"Do you sing, Mr. Landon?" asked Charlotte. + +"Sometimes, in church and Sunday-school," said Mr. Landon, smiling; +"and I know a few old ballads." And being farther pressed, he sang +without accompaniment, one of Burns's inimitable songs. + +"That is charming. That is the sort of music that I like," said Mrs. +Merton, quite enthusiastically, for her. "I confess I do not find half +the pleasure in modern music that I do in those old songs. Pray sing +something else if you are not tired." + +Mr. Landon was not tired, and he sang "Molly Bawn," much to the +amusement of Mr. Merton, who had never heard it before. + +"I wonder you do not cultivate your musical talents," observed +Charlotte; "there are so few gentlemen that sing." + +"I did at one time, Miss Merton, but to tell you the truth, I found it +too engrossing. It was present to my mind a great many times when I +knew very well that I ought to be occupied with something else. It took +time from more important studies, and so I dropped it." + +"And very rightly, too," said Mr. Merton, approvingly. "Accomplishments +are often very dangerous things to one who has his own way to make +in the world. They may do for a man who has no business but to amuse +himself." + +"A man who has nothing to do but to amuse himself is a very poor +creature, in my estimation," said Mr. Landon. + +"And a nuisance to society, besides," observed Charlotte. "There is our +old acquaintance, Major Trumbull, for instance, Olive. What a bore he +is, with his everlasting prattle about art and architecture, and the +æsthetic, and so on. And after all, he does not know a good picture +from a bad one, unless he hears some one else give opinion beforehand." + +Mr. Landon discovered that it was growing very late, and took his +leave, after accepting an invitation from Mrs. Merton to dine with them +the next day, which was Sunday. + +"A very well-informed, unassuming, well-mannered young man," was Mr. +Merton's verdict, after the visitor had departed, "and pretty sure to +rise in his profession. We shall see him a distinguished lawyer, one of +these days." + +"What connections has he in Basswoods?" asked Mrs. Merton, of Olive. + +"None nearer than the Vander Heydens, and one sister," was the reply. + +"What is she like?" + +"A very nice little girl—one of my best scholars. Her health is not +strong, and I have to watch and see that she does not work too hard; +for she is as fond of study as her brother." + +"How came Mr. Landon to know your Christian name?" was the next +question. + +"From hearing it at the rectory, I presume," said Olive. "Mr. Gregory's +family all call me Olive, and he is there a great deal." + +Mrs. Merton seemed satisfied, but she had one question more. "What do +you suppose brought him to M., Olive?" she asked, with something of a +smile. + +"I don't know; perhaps he had business," replied Olive, vexed at +feeling the color rise in her cheeks. + +Perhaps he had—we all know that lawyers travel a great deal. But why +should Olive blush at that? And why, after going up-stairs, should +Olive sit for an hour, looking out of the window, when, even if it +had not been very dark, there was nothing to be seen but Mr. Watson's +highly respectable mansion over the way? Why, to be sure? + + +When they went to church, the next morning, Mr. Landon was standing in +the porch. Of course Mr. Merton invited him to sit with them, and of +course he accepted. He was very attentive and devout, thereby winning +still more of Mr. Merton's approbation. Olive thought she had never +felt the beauty of the service so deeply. Mrs. Merton guessed, in her +own mind, that her niece's thoughts might be wandering a little: but +for once she was mistaken. Olive had left all earthly thoughts at the +church-door, and her mind was filled with one absorbing desire—that +she might be reconciled to the will of God, whatever that will might +be. She had never felt so much at peace with herself since she first +discovered that she loved Walter Landon. + +Charlotte, who for the most part went to church only to please her +mother and had nothing to do but to use her eyes, thought she had never +seen Olive look so nearly beautiful. + +Some one else in the church was using her eyes and that was Mrs. +Dimsden who had discovered the genteel stranger with the Mertons the +moment he entered. For the first time in her life, she thought well +of the free-church system, as it enabled her to take a seat directly +behind them, instead of the one she usually occupied. She did not take +much by her motion, however, for Mr. Landon sat with his back to her, +and never looked round once during the whole service. + +"I wonder who that is!" she said to Laura, as they were coming out of +church. "I never saw him before." + +"Some country friend of Olive's, probably," answered Laura, carelessly, +"or some office acquaintance of my uncle's. He looks like a young +lawyer." + +Mrs. Dimsden was not satisfied. She thought the stranger had something +distinguished in his appearance, and she was immediately anxious to +find out all about him. + +"You had better go over and see Olive this afternoon," she said, after +luncheon; "you know she is going in two or three days." + +"It will look just as though I want to see this person, whoever he is," +objected Laura. + +"Never mind that; I will be answerable for appearances, if you do as +I bid you. You can stay to dinner, and come to church with them this +evening." + +Laura was vexed, but there was nothing for it but to obey. + +"I did not come of my own accord, Olive," she said, as she went +up-stairs with her sister to take off her bonnet. "Aunt Dimsden sent +me, so you need not think I want to steal your beau from you." + +"I do wish you would not use that word," replied Olive, rather +impatiently. "Why should you not come over here if you choose? There is +nothing in it to need an apology." + +"I thought you would all think I came over to see who your visitor +was," said Laura; "and, to tell the simple truth, I suppose that was +what aunt sent me for. Don't tell me any thing about him, and then I +shall have the pleasure of disappointing her." + +"Laura, Laura, how perverse you are! If she had not told you to find +out, you would never have rested till you knew all there is to know." + +"Maybe so. Is he coming to dinner?" + +"I believe aunt invited him." + +"Then I suppose she will depart from her rule of giving the servants +their Sunday. She would not ask a stranger to a cold dinner." + +"I do not believe she has made any difference," said Olive. "I know all +the servants went to church this morning." + +So it proved. Mrs. Merton made no apology for the cold fowl and ham, +except to say that it was one of her rules never to have unnecessary +cooking done on Sunday. + +"So much for being above the fashion," thought Laura. "I wonder whether +the Eatons would dare to do such a thing." + +The conversation was cheerful enough, though somewhat serious in its +character. Mr. Landon was interested in hearing an account of the +different charities of the city, in almost all of which Mr. and Mrs. +Merton were more or less engaged. Free churches, homes for old people, +parish schools and Sunday-schools, were discussed in all their bearings +and relations. Laura thought it all very stupid, and Mr. Landon +something between a Puseyite and a Methodist. He spoke of a certain Mr. +Dennison, who was his particular friend. And after a little, it came +out that he was a hatter, but no one seemed at all shocked. Aunt Merton +was a good deal of a riddle to Laura: she was so very fashionable, and +yet seemed to care so little about it. + + +They went to church in the evening, and walked round by Mrs. Dimsden's +to leave Laura, who complained of headache. That young lady had to +undergo a severe cross-examination from her excellent aunt, but as she +had sedulously avoided finding out any thing, she had very little to +tell, except that she believed Mr. Landon was a young lawyer from the +country, who did not seem to have any distinguished connections. + +"Your aunt is always inviting such persons. I do wonder she should. +Even the clerks in the office are very often there, I am told." + +"Yes, indeed," said Laura; "aunt makes a point of asking some of them +to tea almost every week, and I never saw her or Charlotte take more +pains to entertain any one. I remember how aunt set down Morgan Spencer +once, for putting on airs to one of them. The sweet youth was nearly +frightened out of what little wit he has." + +"Well!" sighed Mrs. Dimsden. "I don't pretend to understand Rebecca +Merton. She is beyond me. I knew her pride would have a fall, though, +when she used to make such a display of Abby and Charlotte last winter, +and if it does not have another, I shall miss my guess. If you will be +a good girl, Laura, I will have you at the head of an establishment of +your own long before Charlotte, with all her beauty and talent. Now go +to bed, child, and put on your best looks to-morrow, for I think we +shall have some company that you will like to see. And pray don't be +perverse and romantic, my dear, for you know the only object I have is +to see you settled in life." + +Laura was delighted to see her aunt again in good humor. She promised +that she would eschew romance and perverseness, and went to bed, +feeling quite happy. + + +"Olive," said Mrs. Merton, "will you stay at home, and keep house this +morning? Charlotte and I have shopping to do, and shall probably not be +at home till luncheon-time?" + +Olive assented, of course. There was something a little peculiar in her +aunt's manner, she thought, and she found herself speculating over it +more than once in the course of the long letter that she was writing +to Augusta and Ruth, which was to be sent by Mr. Landon. She had just +finished it, when the Black Prince ushered Mr. Landon himself into the +drawing-room with the information that Madam and Miss Charlotte were +out, but Miss Olive was at home. + +Mr. Landon seemed to think that Miss Olive would answer every purpose, +and the Prince retreated to his own dominions, apparently greatly +amused with something in his own mind. + +Mr. Landon did not converse with his usual freedom and elegance. On the +contrary, he seemed a good deal embarrassed. Indeed, after a while, he +was quite at a loss, and did not speak a word for all of five minutes, +during which time he cut, ripped, twisted, and otherwise destroyed +almost half a yard of elaborate tape trimming, besides dulling the +little scissors in a very distressing manner. Strange to say, Olive had +not the presence of mind to stop the mischief or, perhaps she was too +much engaged on that camellia flower, whereof the pattern seemed to +have become very difficult all at once. + +"Olive!" said Walter at last. + +Well, perhaps it is not necessary to tell the rest. I suppose these +things are managed very much alike, all the world over. Of course, Mr. +Landon did not fall on his knees, or conduct himself in any such absurd +manner, because he was ordinarily a very sensible, practical young +man, and not quite a fool, even in love. We may conclude, from what we +know of the gentleman, that he told his love in a very manly, earnest +fashion, and that Olive answered in the same way. If he kissed her +hand, and—and so on, why, that is nobody's business. + +Whether the Black Prince had his own thoughts about what was going on, +I can not say; though, if he did not, why should he have made such a +clatter in setting down the luncheon-tray outside the door, when there +was no need to set it down at all, the said door being ajar? And why +should he have indulged in a private and respectful giggle, when he +went back for the pickled oysters? + +Mrs. Merton and Charlotte came in almost as soon as luncheon was ready, +and Mrs. Merton was graciousness itself, both to Mr. Landon and to her +niece. Mr. Landon had quite recovered his fluency, and never appeared +to better advantage, while Olive was silent and abstracted, though she +did not seem particularly miserable. + +By and by the gentleman took his leave, and Olive escaped to her own +room. We will not follow her, for she needs solitude, wherein to +collect her thoughts—to think what she has done and said—to wonder +whether any one was ever so happy or so thankful before. + +It would be paying a poor compliment to Mrs. Merton's care and +discernment to imagine that she did not understand the whole matter. +She was a woman of great penetration, and very much accustomed to judge +of character. And, moreover, she was very skillful in drawing people +out, and making them display their true colors. She saw nothing to +object to, but very much to approve in the young lawyer, though she +believed he might be a little Quixotic in his ideas of duty. She was +very much pleased that he had, in a manner, referred the matter to her, +even before speaking to Olive. His character as a lawyer was high—very +high for so young a man, and he had a respectable property, and no +vulgar relations. She would, indeed, have preferred to have Olive +settled nearer home, and she could not help pitying her for being, in +all probability, condemned to spend her life in a country village—a +fate which seemed to her very deplorable, though Olive professed to +like it. + +Still, Olive was not a belle; she did not care very much for society +and style, and all that, and she was not the kind of girl likely to +make a brilliant match. On the whole, as she said to Charlotte, Olive +had done quite as well as she expected—so different from that poor, +foolish child, Abby, whom they all thought would have turned out so +much better. + +Olive was quite happy, when she received the congratulatory kiss of +her aunt and uncle, on coming down to dinner. Mr. Merton had seen and +talked with Walter, and expressed himself quite satisfied with the +young man's views. It was all talked over in the family council that +evening. Olive had quite made up her mind to return to Basswoods, and +fulfill her engagement there, and Mr. Merton supported her in this +resolve, against the opposition of his wife and Charlotte. The term +would be out in the middle of July, and she could then come home to +stay till she left it for good. The only other stipulation which Olive +made was that the engagement should be kept a secret. + +"But what will you do about Laura?" suggested Charlotte. "You must tell +her." + +"Yes, I suppose so, and perhaps it will be best to tell aunt, too, but +I dislike having such an affair the theme of conversation. And then, if +any thing happens—" + +"I will manage that," said Mrs. Merton; "leave it to me, my dear." And +to her, Olive was quite content to leave it. + +Finally, the matter was thus settled. Olive was to return to Basswoods +and finish her term there, giving Mr. Jones timely notice of her +intention to resign, and Mrs. Merton was to use her own discretion +about keeping the matter a secret. Olive tried timidly to bring in a +word in favor of Abby, but was stopped at once by her uncle. + +"Not a word about that, Olive! I have conceded much—more, perhaps, than +I ought—in allowing you to visit her and correspond with her, and that +is all you must ask. She shall never enter this house again, till she +has, at least, expressed some sorrow for her misconduct, and a desire +to be forgiven." + +Olive sighed, but she could only submit, in the hope that her uncle +would relent, or her sister come to her senses some day. + + + +CHAPTER ELEVENTH. + +SCHOOL was to begin on Wednesday as usual, and Olive arrived in +Basswoods on Monday evening at dusk. She found several people waiting +to welcome her—Mr. Gregory and Augusta, Mr. Landon and Mr. Jones, +and last not least, Mr. Prendergrass. As Olive shook hands with the +last named gentleman, and received his half-formal, half-embarrassed +greeting, her mind adverted for the first time to what Mrs. Dimsden had +so elegantly said, about her setting her cap for the school-master, and +she wondered whether there could be any possible danger of his making a +mistake—of his fancying that she was giving him encouragement, but she +dismissed it as too absurd to deserve consideration. + +Ruth was not at the station, but was waiting for her at the door of +the old house which Olive was quite surprised to see looking as usual, +forgetting that houses do not generally change very much in the course +of four weeks. It seemed like home to be again in her comfortable, +cheerful room, which was just as she left it, except that a beautiful +bouquet stood in a little vase of biscuit-ware on the table. + +"Louisa Landon brought that over," said Ruth, seeing that Olive's eyes +were fixed upon it, the moment she entered the room. + +"Did she?" asked Olive, taking it up, to examine it. + +"Why of course, you know she did," retorted Ruth shortly, but not +unkindly. "What is the use of pretending you don't? Don't you think I +have guessed all about it by this time?" + +"I am glad you have, I am sure," said Olive, laughing and blushing; +"for it will save me the awkwardness of telling you, which I have been +dreading all the way. Well, what do you think about it?" + +"Me! I don't know any thing about such things. I think Walter is a very +nice young man, and you are a very nice young woman, and I dare say you +will be as happy as most people. I hope so, I am sure." + +Olive glanced at Ruth in surprise, and saw that she seemed a good deal +agitated, though she was stooping over Olive's trunk, as if to hide her +face from observation. The expression passed away as she looked, and +she was as calm as ever. Olive remembered the same look once before, +when Ruth had spoken of Augusta's brother, and she had wondered at the +time, but now something in her own feelings gave her a clue to her +friend's. + +"Don't think I am cross, Olive," said Ruth presently. "Sometimes I +remember things I would rather forget, and it upsets me for a moment. +Cool as you think me, I was not always so. Augusta can tell you—she is +the only one who knows. I never speak or think of it, if I can help it. +I wish you every happiness, my dear, and I think your prospects are as +fair as any one's. I have known Walter from a child. Don't talk to me +now—I shall get quiet presently." + +And when Olive met her a few minutes afterwards, she was as composed +and cheerful as usual, nor did she ever again advert to the subject. + +From Augusta she afterwards learned part of the story. Frederick +Gregory was a young man of promising talents, and, as every one +thought, of good principles, but he went to college, so often only +another name for going to destruction. He was treated with a great deal +of attention, and often invited out, and at last fell into the hands of +one of those gangs of fashionable rascals, some of whom are to be found +in almost every city, who think it an excellent joke to draw in a young +man, first to drink, then to gamble, and so on, to utter ruin, and when +it is accomplished, hold up their hands in astonishment that any one +could be so weak. + +Into such a set did Frederick Gregory fall. Mr. T's game-suppers and +little dinner-parties (for men only) were very pleasant, and his vanity +was flattered in being distinguished by such a fashionable man, albeit +he did not think Mr. T. as elegant as his father, or old Judge Landon +of Basswoods. One thing led to an other—"champaigne" to brandy-punch, +punch to clear brandy: which led to betting on the players, and that to +playing on his own account. Why pursue the story? + +Frederick Gregory was expelled from the college for gross misconduct in +his third year. He went home for a short time, but life in his father's +house and under his mother's eye was unendurable to him. Fresh disgrace +and exposure followed, and at last he went to sea, and was never heard +of again. + +Frederick and Ruth had been lovers almost from childhood, and though +their parents refused to recognize any engagement till Frederick should +have finished his college career, they considered themselves none the +less bound to each other. It was very long before Ruth could believe +that Frederick was as degraded as people said, but she was at last +convinced in a way not to be mistaken. The young man visited her one +evening when he was too far gone in intoxication to know what he was +about, and absolutely insulted her. Once convinced, her course was +taken. + +The next morning she sent him a letter, breaking off the engagement, +and refusing to see him again, till he could give proof of his +reformation. He made no attempt to overcome her resolution, for he +had for some time felt his engagement to be only a restraint and an +annoyance. Before leaving Basswoods, he sent her a seal-ring which she +had given him before he went to college, with a note, thanking her for +having taken the first step towards a separation, and bidding her an +eternal farewell. + +What Ruth felt on this occasion, nobody knew, unless it were Augusta. +She kept about her duties as usual, for two or three months. Then she +had a long and tedious fit of sickness, from which she rose up, cured +in body and mind. After a long storm, she had found a calm; she had +conquered in deadly strife, and was henceforth at peace with herself +and the world. She was sometimes haunted, as all of us are upon dark +days, with the ghosts of the enemies she had slain, but they were only +ghosts, and fled at daylight. + +She lived for duty, and with the duties came many pleasures, but +her home was not here, "and all her heart was fixed above." Love +and marriage were things utterly out of the question with her, and +though she might have been comfortably established more than once, +she dismissed all her suitors with an indifference nowise flattering +to them, and very provoking to her mother, who could not see why Ruth +should be so foolish as to refuse such an excellent man as Mr. Brown, +the largest merchant in the place. She might have annoyed her daughter +not a little, had not Mr. Felton, for the first and last time in his +life, asserted his individuality, and forbidden her to say another word +on the subject, declaring that in this and all other matters, Ruth +should do just as she chose, a proceeding which besides silencing his +wife, amazed her to such a degree that she actually forgot to be lone +and low for as much as three days afterwards. + + +Olive was warmly welcomed by all her pupils, most of whom declared that +they were tired of vacation, and quite ready to begin school again. +The drawing-class had each a picture or two to show her, the results +of her holiday labors, and they were all delighted to find that they +could draw at home as well as in school. Miss Tucker was gone, her aunt +having concluded to send her to a seminary at a distance, where her +talents would be appreciated, and her feelings respected; such at least +was the reason she gave Olive, with an emphasis intended to be very +cutting, and Olive accepted it politely, glad to be rid of her on any +terms. + +The school was smaller than it had been in the winter, as many of the +country pupils had returned to their homes to assist in the summer +labors of the dairy and the farm. Olive found some of her best pupils +missing, but she felt herself in some degree compensated by being able +to bestow more time and attention upon the rest. As she thought how +much she might do for them in a few years, she could not help feeling a +pang of regret at being obliged to leave them so soon. She had not yet +said any thing to Mr. Jones about her intention, nor did she mean to do +so, till about a month before the summer vacation, as that would afford +abundance of time to procure another teacher. + +After she had been in Basswoods about two weeks, Olive received a +letter from Helen Monteith, and one from Abby at the same time. Helen +had been visiting Mrs. Granger, and had been to see Abby. She wrote to +Olive that they were comfortably established in the principal hotel +of the place, and that Abby liked it very much, but Mr. Forester was +discontented and talked of going to housekeeping as soon as he could +find a house. + +"I think Abby dreads it," she said, "but she talks cheerfully about it, +and is quite sure she can learn. She seems rather subdued, and I think +feels very much the separation from her family. She thinks her uncle +and aunt are very hard-hearted to treat her with so much severity, and +really, I do not think she has the least idea of having done wrong. A +good many people have visited her, and some of Mr. Forester's relations +have sent her very handsome presents. I think they cherish the hope +that William may settle down and be steady now that he has a wife on +his hands; and perhaps he will. He certainly seems very fond of her." + +Abby wrote in good spirits. She adverted to the housekeeping scheme, +and said they had been house-hunting several times, but rents were +high, and they had not found any thing desirable. + +It was evident that Abby was coming to the conclusion that it cost +money to live, a fact of which she had never been in any degree +sensible before. She spoke of the kindness of Mr. Forester's relations, +and contrasted it with the sternness of her uncle and aunt Merton, by +whom she evidently felt herself very much abused. She exulted greatly +over Olive's engagement, and said she supposed her sister would now be +willing to admit that she had not been so very much to blame. She was +mistaken, however. + +The more deeply Olive loved, the more she wondered at Abby's course. +The effect of her own attachment was to make her more and more anxious +to do her duty in every respect, to correct her faults, and to render +herself worthy of her lover, and her destiny as a wife and mother. +Her conscience had never been so quick to feel the first approach +of wrong, her thankfulness had never been so deep, or her desire of +self-consecration so entire as since she had been engaged. + +She did not consider how different all this might have been, if Walter +had not had the deepest sympathy in all her religious feelings; if he +had not been her superior in religious experience; if he had regarded +the whole matter with indifference, or at best with a careless respect +as an institution very well suited to women and clergymen, and such +narrow-minded people; if he had gently laughed at her scruples, and +intimated that conscience was all very well, but there were instincts +and feelings of our nature much higher, and better guides, etc., etc., +the cant of a certain fashionable school very much in favor with such +gentlemen as Mr. Forester. + +Contrary to the well-known prediction, the course of Olive's true love +seemed likely to run very smooth indeed. Walter's business was very +prosperous, he had no debts, and he had sufficiently demonstrated the +fact of his being able to make a living. Olive's little property was in +an excellent shape, and she thought the proceeds of her year's labor +would go far toward fitting her out comfortably and respectably. + +There seemed no reason why the young people should wait longer than +the first of October. Aunt Merton and her prime minister, Mammy, had +already begun to calculate how much sheeting, toweling, etc., etc., +would be wanted, when an event happened which changed the face of +affairs very considerably. + +Olive had been in school about eight weeks, when one Sunday, on taking +her seat in church, she found the desk occupied by a stranger, and she +was not long in recognizing the peculiar features and bearing of the +Rev. Dr. V., a gentleman well-known for his talents, both as a speaker +and a writer. She had heard him once before, and prepared herself for a +treat. She was not disappointed. + +The Doctor's subject was the lack of young men for the ministry, and +most splendidly was it handled. There was enough of originality to +keep the attention awake, without any of that straining after effect +so painful and disgusting in some popular preachers. Every one in the +congregation was made to feel that the subject was an important one, +and one in which he or she had a share of responsibility. Chancing for +a moment to look away from the preacher, Olive met Walter's eye, filled +with an expression that thrilled to her very heart. She knew what he +was thinking of as well as though he had spoken. + +"How do you like Dr. V.'s sermon?" he asked as they met after +Sunday-school in the porch. + +"Very much," replied Olive, hardly knowing what she said; "it was a +powerful appeal, certainly." + +They walked a little way in silence, and then Olive said earnestly: +"Walter, tell me what you are thinking of." + +"I am thinking, Olive, whether this is not an appeal to me. Young men +are wanted, and I am young and strong. Who is there that can go better +than I?" + +"It would be a great sacrifice," said Olive presently. + +"Yes, a sacrifice to both of us—to me of wealth, fame, and almost all +the earthly objects I had set my heart upon; not to mention the fact, +that our marriage must be put off at least a year, and possibly longer. +Yes, it will be a sacrifice." + +"Perhaps we ought not to take that so much into the account, as the +simple matter of what our duty is," said Olive gently. "Nothing, no +sacrifice can be so painful to me, Walter, as the idea of being a clog +upon you. I could bear any thing better than that." + +"I am sure you never will be so, Olive," replied Waiter, earnestly. +"You have done me far too much good already for me to imagine such a +thing possible. But we will not be hasty. I will revolve the matter in +my own mind, and do you do the same. Perhaps I ought not to mention it +yet, but I can not bear to have a thought that you do not share." + +The girls thought they had never seen Miss McHenry so absent as she was +in school, next day. She became aware of it herself after a little, and +exerted herself to be attentive to her duties, but it was hard work, +and she was glad when school was out. + +A long solitary walk helped to compose her thoughts, but she still felt +almost as though she were dreaming. + +"Olive looks tired to-night," Mrs. Felton remarked in her general way, +addressing no one in particular. + +"I have taken a long walk," said Olive, trying to rouse herself from +her abstraction. "I have been up past the old red house on the banks of +the river." + +"Do tell!" exclaimed Mrs. Felton. "That lonesome road, and so far too! +But you didn't go alone?" + +"Yes, why not." + +"Well, I declare! I wouldn't have done it for any money when I was your +age, and I don't know that I would now. Why, the old Vander Heyden +vault is on that road!" + +"Well!" + +"And the graves of the family that was murdered by the Indians, in the +old red house!" + +"I never heard that," said Olive, with some interest; "what was it?" + +Mrs. Felton loved nothing better than to tell a story, and moreover, +she had some talent for narration. + +"A family of the name of Munn formerly lived in that house," she began. +"They were not much respected, and the man used to come up to the +village and get drunk, leaving his family alone for two or three days +at a time. Basswoods was a little place then, and this house was more +lonely then, than it is now. His wife was rather a violent-tempered +woman, but she worked hard, and was in a manner fond of her children. +One afternoon in sleighing-time, Munn started for the village, and as +usual his wife scolded him for it. + +"A neighbor (that is, he lived three or four miles off) was passing, +and heard them using very high words, and he said to Munn, half in +joke, 'You had better not leave your family alone to-night, Jacob; +there is talk of Indians up the river.' + +"And so there was, though nobody thought much of it. + +"'Indians!' said the brute, with an oath. 'I only wish they would come +and carry off this one!' pointing to his wife. + +"The man said no more, but went on his way, and Munn came up to the +village. He did not go home till towards dark the next day, and the +first thing he saw was his own baby lying with its brains dashed out in +the snow by the gate. The woman and the other two were lying scalped +and dead inside the door, and the house was robbed. It was the only one +in the valley which was attacked, which made it the more singular. + +"Most likely," said Mr. Felton, "the mischief was done by a small party +of Indians who knew Munn's habits. They had their spies all through +the country at that time. I can remember seeing him round the village +when I was a boy—a miserable, crazy creature, always talking to himself +about the Indians." + +"But why should I not walk there?" persisted Olive. "The Indians are +all dead long ago." + +Mrs. Felton had no very satisfactory reason to give, only that the +place had a bad name, and no one would live there. Strange things had +happened in the house. + +"But what things?" + +Well, she could not exactly say, only that queer things had been seen +there at might, and people did not like to pass it. Some thought it was +not altogether the Indians. + +"And if I were you, Olive, I would not walk that way towards night. It +is as well to be on the safe side, you know." + +This reminiscence produced others, and Olive was surprised to find how +many such traditions attached to the place. In one house there had +been a murder committed. From another, a young girl had mysteriously +disappeared one evening, and never was heard of again. In another, the +watchers by a dead body had been alarmed by footsteps in the room, and +sobs and sighs sounded near them, though nothing was to be seen. Olive +had never heard so many ghost stories in her life. They had, at least, +the good effect of arousing her attention, and turning her thoughts +for a time away from the subject was engrossing them, perhaps more +effectually than any thing more sensible would have done. + +The next day found her much more composed. She had made up her mind +entirely to the sacrifice, feeling her own share to be nothing to +Walter's; and, girl-like, she even began already to find some pleasure +in the prospect of the quiet parsonage and useful life, which lay +beyond that long separation which she would not look at. She was +detained an hour after school by an extra class, and then went round to +the parsonage to tea. + +"Where is your father?" she asked, after a while. "He did not come +round to hear my class in Latin, as he promised." + +"He has been closeted with Walter almost all the afternoon," replied +Augusta; "I can not think what they are so earnestly engaged about. +Walter looked as though he had the weight of nations upon his shoulders +when he came in. And you, too, look anxious, Olive! I hope there is +nothing wrong." + +"Oh! No!" replied Olive, earnestly. "Nothing wrong. Something very +right, I hope, but something which will make a great difference in our +plans, if we decide upon it." + +Augusta looked at her inquiringly, and they were silent for a while. + +"After all, Olive, putting aside gratified ambition, which is +perhaps but a questionable good, there are few happier lives than a +clergyman's," said Augusta. She spoke rather to what she supposed were +her friend's thoughts, and so Olive answered her. + +"People have a great deal to say of a clergyman's trials, you know." + +"I know, and doubtless some have more trouble than others. One can only +speak from one's own experience and observation, of course. I have +lived in a parsonage all my life long, you know, and I do not know that +my father has been especially favored, except that he has remained a +long time in the same place. We have had some hard times, and some sad +times. There have been troubles, and now and then hard feeling and +discontent in the parish. Once my father had no salary for three years, +and we were poor enough. But the people have always come round after a +while, and we have been as comfortable as ever. I am sure my father has +enjoyed pleasures which more than counterbalanced his trials, and just +think how it will be in the next world, when he shall come to know the +full fruition of his labors!" + +"But it must be hard, Augusta, for a man like your father to labor +Sunday after Sunday, month after month, without seeing any fruit of his +toils." + +"Yes," replied Augusta, "and a minister undoubtedly needs faith, more +than almost any one else in the word. But then, what state of life is +there, which has not its trials? I remember well how my husband used to +come home at night, especially in court-time, so worn out and disgusted +with the meanness and villainy with which he was obliged to come in +contact, the double-distilled lies and inveterate malice with which +he was obliged to come in contact, even among his own clients. I have +asked him sometimes, why he did not abandon his profession, and take +up some other line of business, and his answer always was that there +was no profession in the world which had not its drawbacks and its +annoyances; and that, in laying down one burden, of which he knew the +weight, he might take up another still heavier." + +"Walter loves his profession," said Olive, sighing. "I do not think any +thing but a certain sense of duty would make him dream of resigning it." + +"I hope he will not be hasty." + +"He is not apt to be hasty, I think," observed Olive. "Do you know, +Augusta, that when I went away from here, I thought he was engaged to +Annette Vander Heyden." + +"I thought you did," said Augusta, smiling; "I knew very well he was +not." + +"Why did you not—?" Olive stopped, suddenly coloring as deeply as the +crimson cushion she was working. + +"Why did I not tell you? Because I thought it better both for your +dignity and his, to let him tell his own story. I felt pretty sure that +he would do so, and if he did not, the least said was soonest mended." + +"I assure you, Augusta, I never was more astonished than I was when +I discovered that I cared any thing about him." Olive made this +declaration with great seriousness, and looked rather indignantly at +Augusta for receiving it with a hearty laugh. + +"Well, my dear child, what of that? You do not suppose that people in +general go and fall in love of malice prepense, do you? To be sure, +I have known cases where men, and women, too, set themselves about +getting married as they would take steps to buy a cow or a horse, but +I never heard of any one's making a deliberate calculation to fall in +love." + +"I do not know that I ever thought of it in that way," said Olive, +joining in the laugh, "but I do assure you I was surprised." + +"And you thought nobody was ever so unhappy before, I dare say." + +Olive nodded. + +"Whereas, your experience was that of at least eighty out of every +hundred sensible and reasonable people, who marry at all, and perhaps +as large a proportion who never do. But here are my father and Walter, +coming back from the orchard. Walter looks as though his heart was +lighter, does he not?" + +He did, indeed, and, as Olive observed him, she thought he must have +made up his mind to something certain. He looked pleased at meeting +her, and his cheerful greeting and warm hand-pressure made her heart +feel ten pounds lighter. The subject was not adverted to during the +evening, but when they were walking homeward, Walter told her that he +had been discussing the matter the whole afternoon with Mr. Gregory, +and that he felt his mind quite made up to the step. + +"Mr. Gregory advises me to let the matter rest for a month," said he. +"And, of course, I shall do so, if only in deference to his opinion, +trying meanwhile to gain all the light I can upon the matter. The +only thing that really troubles me, Olive, is your sacrifice. I had +enjoyed so much the prospect of our having a home of our own this fall, +and having Louisa with us. I had built so many castles on it that—" +Walter's voice faltered: he could not complete the sentence. + +"We will not think about that," said Olive, cheerfully, though she felt +a moisture rise to her own eyes as she spoke. "Our engagement has been +a very short one, and we shall be none the less happy in the end, for +knowing each other better. I believe you have full faith in me, Walter; +you have no doubt of my constancy—there, that will do! And I have not a +shadow of distrust for you. We can afford to wait." + +"And what will you do meantime?" asked Walter. + +"Go on teaching here as long as they want me," replied Olive. "I am +thankful that I am not dependent on any body for a house or a living. +It is pleasant at Mrs. Felton's, and I like the school very much—more +than I ever expected to do, when I begun. I do not think three or four +years of such discipline will do me any harm." + +"You are determined to see only the bright side, my love." + +"I am, in this case, because the dark side is most prominent, and +speaks for itself," replied Olive. + +"What will your uncle and aunt say?" asked Walter. + +"Frankly, I do not think they will be pleased. Uncle—I wish to speak +with all respect—is proud of his profession, and considers every +slight offered to it as an insult to himself. I believe, to speak +the truth, that they will be likely to consider you a very visionary +and enthusiastic person, in making such a sacrifice. My aunt has, of +course, renounced the world and its vanities, but she thinks it no +harm to give up the most of her time and energies to what she and +others call the requirements of society. I hesitate to say this, lest +I should seem lacking in respect and affection, but I know that the +inconsistency used to strike me when I was quite a child." + +"But what does she make of such texts as—'Be not conformed to this +world,' 'The friendship of the world is enmity towards God,' and others +of like character?" asked Walter. + +"I suppose she thinks they applied only to the time when they were +written, and have nothing to do with people nowadays." + +"Yes, that is a convenient way of dispensing with inconvenient +precepts." + +"You must not understand me to say that she always does it, Walter, by +any means. In many things, I think my aunt is guided by truly religious +motives. For instance, she never invites company on Sunday, unless +it is some person to whom it will be a real kindness. She is careful +to see that the servants go to church regularly, and that they are +provided with proper books, both of instruction and amusement; and she +is very kind to the poor, and to all sorts of forlorn and friendless +people. I think this is her one great inconsistency." + +"It is so with many excellent people, I know," said Walter; "and, after +all, Olive, we all have our own pet failings. Perhaps this is no worse +than many things in us, which we never think of as faults. But do not +say any thing to them of the matter till it is settled, one way or +other. As Mr. Gregory says, a distance of time makes a great difference +in our feelings, and it is possible that I may see grounds for changing +my mind. We will wait a month, and then decide." + +They waited a month accordingly. Walter now and then adverted to the +subject, but he said very little. At the end of that time, he informed +Olive that his mind was settled, if hers was. He intended to devote +himself to the ministry, and to commence his preparatory studies at +once. Olive had no objections to offer, and in a few days, all was +settled. + +Walter would not have as much to do as many young men in the same +circumstances, inasmuch as he was an excellent classical scholar +already, and had read a good deal of Church-history, and of other +matters which would come into the course. + +Of course there were a great many different opinions expressed in +Basswoods when the matter came to be generally known. Some people +thought it a very foolish, romantic move, for a young man already in +good practice as a lawyer, to exchange a lucrative profession, which +offered so many chances of rising in the world, for one which held out +no promise, either of wealth or of gratified ambition. Others thought +it was very hard upon poor Miss McHenry, as of course her marriage +must now be put off indefinitely, if not broken off entirely. But when +Miss McHenry appeared just as good spirits as ever, and upon the same +terms with her lover, they had nothing more to say, except that it was +a queer world, a proposition which, if you regard it in some lights, +hardly admits of a denial. + +There were many who gave an unqualified approval, and wished that more +young men would follow such a good example, and among them were Olive's +fast friends, Mr. Jones and Dr. Gordon, the two acting members of the +board of trustees, who were, moreover, much pleased at the idea of +keeping their favorite teacher two or three years longer. + +When Olive announced the change of plans to her aunt, Walter wrote a +long letter to Mr. Merton, in which he gave a full account of all the +motives and reasons which had influenced him. + +Mr. Merton replied very soon. As a general thing, he said, he could not +approve of a young man's changing his profession when he had once set +out in life, and he really thought that, with Mr. Landon's talents, he +might do as much good as a Christian layman, as in the character of a +clergyman. Still, it could not be denied that there was a great want of +young men for the ministry. He desired his young friend to do nothing +hastily, but consider well what he was going to relinquish, and also +what he was going to take upon himself before making any decided move, +and enjoined it upon him not to enter the work of the ministry, unless +it was his intention to devote to it all his energies of mind and body. +On the whole, the letter was quite as satisfactory in its character as +Olive expected. + +Aunt Rebecca's was not quite so much so. She evidently regarded the +whole scheme as visionary and fanatical, and fully believed that +Olive's apparently cheerful concurrence in it was only a freed and +sorrowful acquiescence to the whims of her enthusiastic lover. She +seemed indeed to place Walter's conduct upon a par with William +Forester's relinquishment of the study of law, because he could not +bring his mind down to such narrow limits. She concluded by expressing, +in most affectionate terms, her sympathy in Olive's sad disappointment, +and reminding her that she had always a home at her uncle's, +independent of any one's caprice. + +The kind tone of the letter brought tears to Olive's eyes, even while +she half-laughed and was half-vexed at the determination to think +her a martyr, in spite of herself. Since she had had the charge of +young people upon her own hands, she had learned to appreciate, more +than she had ever done before, how much she owed to aunt Rebecca's +kindness, and how many times she had tried it, sometimes unwittingly, +sometimes through willfulness and selfishness. She wrote again, to +assure her aunt that she was not suffering and to beg her not to be +uneasy, as she was perfectly well, and about as happy as she could be, +inclosing, at the same time, a little sketch of her own face, in order +to demonstrate, clearly, that she was not pining away. + +The next letter was still more kindly expressed towards herself. Mrs. +Merton had read Walter's letter to her husband, and admitted that +his arguments were strong, but still she thought he might have been +contented with doing all the good he could in his own profession. She +sent him a very affectionate message, however, and Olive had no fear +but that, in course of time, he would be fully taken into favor again. + +Charlotte's letter was concise and to the point, like almost every +thing she said. "You know very well that I do not pretend to be +governed by your motives, or even to understand them, always. But I +must say I think you have done right. You have acted consistently +with your own views and professions. If I believed as Walter does, I +should act just as he has done. I am sorry, on some accounts, that your +marriage is put off, but I think perhaps it will be as well in the end." + +Olive thought so, too, and she settled herself to her work with fresh +patience and hopefulness, now that there was a chance of her seeing +something of the fruit of her labors. People gradually ceased talking +about it, and busied themselves with other matters, and by degrees +Olive became as much accustomed to the thought of spending her life in +a parsonage as though she had never had any other prospect before her. + +"Aunt Dimsden was right," she said to herself, sometimes; "I shall be a +minister's wife, after all." + + + +CHAPTER TWELFTH. + +THE summer term passed rapidly, unmarked by any particularly startling +incident. The Basswoods people had become accustomed to the idea of +Olive's engagement and Walter's change of profession, and troubled +themselves very little more about the matter. The school prospered, +and was larger than usual in summer, and Olive had her hands full of +employment,—so full, indeed, that the trustees began seriously to talk +of giving her an assistant the next term. + +Olive hoped it would not be necessary. She liked to have the management +in her own hands, and feared that some one might be appointed who would +not work with her, and might, perhaps, thwart her plans. + +She was the more solicitous on this point, as she knew very well that +she had an enemy in the amiable Mrs. Tucker, who had never forgiven +the summary setting down of the sensitive and conscientious Melissa, +and who had never since hesitated to use all her influence against +Olive, both secretly and openly. She talked of mercenary motives, and +drew touching contrasts between people who taught only for money and +those who taught for the love of it, though who these last were, she +did not think it necessary to state. She intimated that Olive was fond +of society, and went out a great deal, that her connections in M. +were very fashionable people, that Miss McHenry paid a great deal of +attention to the manners of her pupils, and even advised them about +their dress, etc., etc. + +Olive heard very little of these speeches, and troubled herself not at +all about them. She had early discovered Mrs. Tucker to be a meddling, +vulgar woman, very fond of having her own way, and considering herself +a model of solid education, though upon what she founded her claim it +would be difficult to say, except it were upon the fact of her having +no accomplishments. + +The school was full, the girls loved her, and the trustees were quite +satisfied. Walter was every thing she had believed him to be, and now +she had kind friends, and her own relatives, if they did not entirely +approve of Walter's course, were at least satisfied with her. She was +happier than she had ever been before in all her life, and she would +have been quite happy, but for her constant feeling of anxiety about +Abby—an anxiety to which she could attach no definite shape, but which +haunted her continually, and made her heart beat fast at sight of a +letter with the B. post-mark. + +After a longer interval than usual, she got a letter, saying that they +were at housekeeping, and that Abby liked it very well, "so far." The +next letter was not quite so cheerful. They had not a good girl, and +Abby had so much to do that she got tired to death. She supposed it was +all her own fault, in not knowing how, but thought if they could only +get competent servants, they would do better. She was very anxious to +have Olive stop and pay them a visit on her return to M., if not to +spend the whole vacation with them, and Olive fully intended to do so. + +Olive, herself, was learning a good deal about work, from Ruth, who +excelled in all that constituted a good housekeeper. Every Saturday she +took a lesson in baking, and she felt more proud of her first fair, +light loaf of bread, than she had ever been of a fine drawing. + +Aunt Merton, to whom she wrote an account of her exploits, commended +her highly for taking pains to acquire a practical knowledge of +such things—"a knowledge, my dear, which can never come amiss in +any station. At the same time, I can not but hope, notwithstanding +Mr. Landon's eccentric course, that you will never be placed in +circumstances which will render it necessary for you to bake your own +bread." + +It was plain that aunt Rebecca had not quite forgiven Walter yet, for +what she considered his romantic folly. Yet Mrs. Merton regretted, +extremely, the great want of young men for the ministry, and was in +favor of having it made an especial object of prayer in the churches. +She admired, too, the heroism of missionaries, and gave liberally to +the cause. + +Olive was not at all disturbed by her aunt's letter. She appreciated +the kindness, and only smiled at the inconsistency. She had learned +away from home, what, when at home, she had never fully realized—that, +taking them all in all, there were few better people in the world than +her uncle and aunt Merton. And many times did she feel herself shamed +and humiliated, as she looked back on her own conduct, and thought how +illy she had often requited their kindness. + + +The time sped on, and the summer term was near its close. Olive had +made all her preparations for the long vacation, and Walter had wound +up his business, except what had gone into the hands of his successor, +and was giving his whole attention to some preparatory studies, under +the direction of Mr. Gregory. + +At the earnest petition of a number of the girls who had hitherto +considered themselves quite too old to go to Sunday-school, Olive had +taken a Bible-class, in which she found, both pleasure and profit. +Julia Goodrich stood at the head of this class, as she did at the head +of the day-school, side by side with her fast friend, Anna Jones. She +never missed a lesson, was apparently very much interested in the +information she acquired, and was regular in her attendance; yet Olive +could not flatter herself that she was making any decided impression +upon her. When the subject of personal piety was pressed upon her +attention, she treated it with respect, but frankly owned that she had +no interest in it, on her own account. She seemed to have an idea that +she should some time or other, be converted, without any special agency +of her own, and that all would be right, as a matter of course. + +Olive was very much in doubt what to do with these girls during her +absence. She had asked, as a personal favor to herself, that they would +continue to meet, and they had promised to do so, but she could think +of no one to whom to commit the charge of the class. Augusta and Ruth +had their hands full, the one with the infant-school, the other with a +class of large boys from the country which she had taught for several +years. + +She was talking the matter over with Augusta one day, when Mrs. Vander +Heyden came in. She was a pleasant woman, and rather remarkably +well-informed, and Olive had more than once thought of her. But as Mrs. +Vander Heyden had never had any thing to do with the school, she did +not venture to propose it. + +In the course of conversation, however, it came out, incidentally, that +Olive was looking for some one to supply her place during her absence. + +"If you will trust them to me, Miss McHenry," said Mrs. Vander Heyden, +"I will do as well as I can by them. I have very little experience in +teaching, but perhaps I can keep them together." + +"I could ask nothing better," replied Olive, equally surprised and +pleased; "and I shall be very much obliged to you. I did not think of +asking you, as you have never been in Sunday-school." + +Mrs. Vander Heyden sighed. "Perhaps I have been wrong in keeping +so much aloof from such things," said she, "but we have had such a +pleasant circle at home, and I found it so easy to occupy myself fully +there that I shrank from any thing which should take me out. We are +sadly broken up," she added, with a sigh. + +"Is Agnes going south?" asked Augusta. + +"Yes, we shall take her to her aunt, in Georgia. I hope the change and +the journey will do her good, for she is still sadly delicate. Jenny +will be very lonely without her, I fear." + +"Poor Mrs. Vander Heyden! How very sad she seems," said Olive, after +the lady had gone. "I was very much surprised at her offer, were not +you?" + +"Not so much as I should have been a year ago," replied Augusta. "The +family have lived, hitherto, almost entirely within themselves, and I +believe, felt themselves quite beyond the need of neighborly sympathy. +But the death of poor Annette, and the long-continued illness of Agnes +and Jenny, have taught them a good lesson. I do not know what would +have become of them, if they had been done by as they have been in +the habit of doing to others. It shows what a really noble nature the +woman has, that she has learned the lesson, and is ready to repair and +acknowledge her error." + + +In the year which she had spent in school, Olive had learned to have +not only a great respect, but also a really friendly regard for her +partner in the institution. It is said that we are apt to like those +whom we have benefited, and if so, it is no wonder that Olive liked Mr. +Prendergrass. She had certainly, done him a great deal of good. She +had coaxed him out of his seclusion, and persuaded him into society; +she had made him laugh heartily, more than once. She knew, too, how to +draw out his vast and miscellaneous stores of thought and information, +so as to make him an entertaining companion. But it was not merely his +learning that commanded admiration. He was so thoroughly good, his +feelings were so elevated and dignified, his piety so earnest, every +thing about him so sincere and true, that Olive had a hearty reverence +for him, and looked up to him with an almost daughterly regard, at the +same time that she could not help being sometimes amused and sometimes +annoyed by his eccentricities, and she now and then laughed at him a +little, when she was with Ruth or Augusta. In what light he regarded +her, we shall soon see. + +One Wednesday evening Olive did not go to church, as usual. She was not +very well, and had had a fatiguing day in school. She would not allow +any one to stay at home with her, and they all went, leaving her to +enjoy that not unpleasant degree of indisposition which may be defined +as too unwell to work and not too unwell to enjoy a new book. In this +peaceful state, she had established herself upon the sofa, and given +herself up to the fascinations of the "Princess." + +It was not a very pleasant interruption to hear Mr. Prendergrass's +voice, inquiring if Miss. McHenry was at home. But she put down her +book, turned her feet off the sofa, and prepared to be gracious, +wondering all the time what had kept him from church, when the +clergyman himself was hardly more punctual than he. + +The fact was, that Mr. Prendergrass had, for a long time, been trying +to work his courage up to the point necessary for making a declaration +of love to Miss McHenry. He lived, in general, so entirely out of the +world, and was habitually so abstracted, that the report of Olive's +engagement to Walter had never reached him, or had fallen upon +unheeding ears. For the first time in his life, he had fallen into the +society of a pretty, cultivated girl. The teachers before Olive had +made no more impression upon him than the desks, or other furniture +of the school-room. In fact, he had looked upon women in general as +necessary evils, to be endured and made the best of. + +Olive was entirely different. She had begun by a tacit but decided +declaration of independence. She was clearly not afraid of him, though +she treated him with respect. She often disagreed with him, and +sometimes laughed at him. The consequence of all which was, that Mr. +Prendergrass, before he knew what he was about, fell violently in love +with Miss McHenry. It was a long time before he would acknowledge the +fact to himself, and still longer before he could make up his mind to +inform the object of his affections. But when he saw the Felton family +going to church without her, and ascertained that she was at home, +alone, he thought it would never do to allow so good an opportunity to +pass by unimproved. + +Olive never knew, exactly, how he contrived to make her understand +the matter. She was so utterly astonished, so shocked and grieved at +having unwittingly led the good man into an error that for a moment she +could not say a word. Mr. Prendergrass evidently took her silence for +encouragement. + +"May I hope, Miss Olive," he said, in a trembling voice, and changing +his first seat for one upon the sofa, at her side, "that you will +listen to my humble suit with favor? I am aware of my unworthiness, and +your exalted merit, but if the devotion of so humble an individual as +myself can make you happy—" + +"Stop, pray stop, Mr. Prendergrass!" exclaimed Olive, finding her voice +at last. "I am so very sorry. I am afraid I have been very much to +blame." And girl-like, she burst into tears. + +Poor Mr. Prendergrass was inexpressibly shocked and alarmed. + +"Don't weep, pray don't, my dear Miss McHenry! What have I said to +cause you a moment's grief?" + +"It is not what you have said," replied Olive, recovering her calmness, +"but I fear I have been very much to blame. I looked up to you so much, +Mr. Prendergrass—I felt you were so much above me, and so much older +that I never thought of your caring any thing more for me than as a +friend." + +Mr. Prendergrass felt his heart sink fathoms deep, but he did not mean +to give it up quite yet. "Respect is an essential agreement in the +marriage-covenant. Do you not think so, Miss McHenry?" he asked timidly. + +"Yes, sir, certainly, but something more than respect is necessary." + +"You refer to love, Miss McHenry! Is that entirely out of the question, +madam? So far as I myself am concerned, I repeat that life itself is +not dearer to me than my Olive." + +The dignity and earnestness with which the good man spoke, brought the +tears again to Olive's eyes, but she forced them back, and determined +to put an end to the scene at once. + +"You will see that it is quite impossible, Mr. Prendergrass, when I +tell you that I have been engaged to Mr. Landon ever since my return. +I regret, very much, that any thing in my conduct should have led to +such a mistake on your part, and I fear I have been to blame in not +foreseeing it. But, as I said, I have been in the habit of looking up +to you so much that it never struck me as possible." + +Her tone, even more than the words, convinced Mr. Prendergrass that his +visit was hopeless. He rose and walked up and down the room a few times. + +"Miss McHenry," he said at last, stopping before her, "why did you ever +come here? I was happy before that. I lived in my duties and my books, +contented in solitude. I felt the need of nothing. You drew me out of +myself, and away from my studies. You, first of any woman in the world, +commanded my respect. You made me perfectly happy for a time, happier +than I ever knew any one could be, only to plunge me in utter misery. +Why did you not leave me alone?" + +He walked once more the length of the room. + +"Now what am I to do? I can not go back to my old way of life, and +be happy in it, after the year of enjoyment I have passed. I can not +forget you, even if it were possible to myself, since I must meet you +every day. I have given you every thing, and left myself poor indeed, +only to contribute to your amusement, and be cast aside for a younger +man, who, whatever may be his merits, never can love you better than +the poor awkward school-master with whom you have diverted yourself, +without a thought of the mischief you were doing." + +"Mr. Prendergrass, I can not permit this," said Olive, with dignity. +"I make great allowances for your disappointment, but you do great +injustice, both to me and to yourself, when you accuse me of trifling +with you. I found you, as you say, shut up with your books, and I +thought it a great pity. I tempted you from your seclusion, not to +amuse myself with you—such a thought never entered my mind—but because +I thought it would be much better for you, while your society would be +pleasant to others. You have never given me the least reason to think +that I was more to you than any other young lady in the village. I have +no more to say, except that when you are more yourself, I am sure you +will do me justice." + +Mr. Prendergrass stood a moment. "Forgive me, Miss McHenry. I have +spoken improperly, and you are right, as you always are. Good-night." + +"We part friends, at least, I hope," said Olive, offering him her hand. + +He took it in a grasp which almost crushed it, pressed it to his lips, +and pulling his hat over his eyes, he left the house, passing Mrs. +Felton at the gate, without even a sign of salutation. + +"What on earth ails the man?" said Mrs. Felton to her daughter. "I +should not wonder if he had got the neuralgia again. Why, where's +Olive?" she continued, as she entered the sitting-room, and found it +vacant. "I don't believe but that she is real sick. Hadn't you better +go up and see?" + +Ruth went up, but did not go in. She had an inkling of the state of the +case, and she thought Olive would prefer to be alone, so she contented +herself with asking, at the door, if Olive wanted any thing, and then +went to her own room. + +Olive would have given a good deal if she could have avoided meeting +her rejected lover the next morning, but there was no help for it. And +she determined to put the best face she could upon the encounter. + +Mr. Prendergrass rose and bade her good morning, as usual, when she +entered the large room, following her train of girls. + +Glancing at him, after she was seated, she was shocked to see how he +was altered. He looked ten years older, at least. His eyes were hollow, +and there was an expression of forlorn wretchedness about him, which +went to Olive's heart. His voice, however, was full and firm as ever in +going through the morning prayers. + +When school was out, at noon, Mr. Prendergrass entered the library, +where Olive was, searching for something in one of the book-cases. + +"Allow me a moment, Miss McHenry," he said, in his formal way, and +closing the door. "I made myself very ridiculous last night," he +continued, "and I fear gave you great pain." + +"On the contrary, you never commanded my respect more," said Olive +warmly, "and the only pain I felt was for your disappointment, and the +fear that I had lost your friendship." + +"You are very kind to say so." He paused a moment. "From henceforth let +the whole matter be forgotten, so far as possible. I entirely acquit +you of any wrong in the matter, and blame only my own folly and vanity." + +Olive would have interrupted him, but he waved his hand, and proceeded. +"We will say no more about it, if you please. I believe Mr. Landon to +be a worthy and excellent young man, and I greatly respect him for the +course which I understand he has lately taken. I hope you may both +be happy, and so long as I know 'you' are so, I can never be quite +wretched. God bless you!" + +He bowed, and was gone, leaving Olive to wonder whether, if she had +never seen Walter, she might not, in the course of time, have fallen in +love with this honorable, noble, kind-hearted, formal, eccentric piece +of humanity. + +School was out at last, and us the scholars assembled once more to +receive their prizes and to bid good-by, Olive felt sadly at leaving +them, even for the vacation. She had expected when she returned for +the summer term, to give up her charge entirely at this time, and to +return to Basswoods as Mrs. Landon. A great change had passed over her +prospects. She was none the less happy, but it was a calm and subdued +happiness. Those who saw only the outside pitied her disappointment, +but she told Augusta that if she could, by turning her hand, reverse +the whole matter, she would not do it. + +"I respect and love him more than ever, when I see him making such +sacrifices to what we both feel to be paramount duty," said she, "and +I never think of it but with a thankful heart that we are both of one +mind." + +"Mr. Prendergrass is going to travel this vacation; only think of +that!" said Ruth. "He has not been out of Basswoods before, except to +York to buy books, for ten years. He says he is going to the White +Mountains, and up the St. Lawrence, and so home by the way of Niagara. +I only hope the poor man will not get lost." + +"Perhaps he will only get married," said Augusta. "You look quite +indignant, Olive, but let me tell you, my dear, there is truth in the +saying that 'many a heart is caught in the rebound.'" + +"I was not aware that I looked indignant," replied Olive, coloring. "It +is nothing to me, of course, but it does not seem very probable." + +The girls smiled and turned the conversation, leaving Olive wondering +why she should have felt a little vexed at the idea of Mr. Prendergrass +being married. + +She had expected to go alone to B., but when the day came, she found +Walter prepared to accompany her. + +"I can afford myself so much of a holiday," he said, in answer to her +remonstrances, "and I do not choose to have you travel alone, if it can +be helped. Besides, I want to see your sister and Forester. You know he +was a classmate of mine. We used to be thought very much alike." + +Olive wondered where the resemblance could have been, as she contrasted +the high-flown æsthetics and refined selfishness of her accomplished +brother-in-law, with the hearty, manly energy, and determined +self-sacrifice of her lover: the one pampering his mind and indulging +his taste for idleness with all sorts of pretty and petty amusements +which he dignified by the name of intellectual pursuits; the other +devoting all his energies to the profession he had chosen, and only +relinquishing it at the call of a still higher duty. She did not +express her thoughts to her companion, but perhaps he guessed them, for +he said presently: + +"You must not judge Forester too harshly. He has been a spoiled child +all his life; petted, waited on, and admired by father and mother, +brothers and sisters. He had talent, and they thought it genius, +and accordingly humored him in all his pursuits, and gratified +all his desires. After living upon his father till he was nearly +five-and-twenty, it was naturally not easy for him to settle down to +business at once. He was admired and courted in society, and that +finished the spoiling." + +"All that need not have made him dishonorable and false," said Olive, +"as he certainly was, so far as Abby was concerned." + +"Perhaps it need not, but I think you will find that idleness and +self-indulgence are very apt to have that effect after a time. We will +not despair of him, however, my dear Olive. The fact of his having +a wife dependent upon him may force upon his mind the necessity of +exerting himself." + +Olive tried to hope so, but it must be confessed she did not feel very +sanguine. They arrived in B. in the afternoon, and after some little +trouble, succeeded in finding the house—a small brick cottage in a +retired street, and Walter left her at the door, promising to return in +the evening. + +Her sister met her with open arms, and then followed the usual amount +of tears, laughter, clapping of hands, and other demonstrations, common +to all Abby's great occasions. + +"You are just as much of a child as ever, Abby," said Olive, when she +was finally settled in the parlor. + +"Why, no, I think not quite," replied Abby, sobering down a little. "I +have learned some things since I saw you. Only think, Olive, I have +been a wife almost six months, and you are not married yet, nor likely +to be very soon." + +"I am very well contented as I am," said Olive. + +"Yes, I dare say; you always are, you know. But how do you like our +house? You see it is not in a fashionable neighborhood, and the house +is not large nor splendid, but it is comfortable." + +"It looks so," said Olive, looking round. "I see you have a piano." + +"Yes, Mrs. Forester sent me that. Wasn't she kind? So different from—" + +"Hush! Abby," interposed Olive, "I will not hear one word against uncle +or aunt Merton. They have been kinder to you than you deserve, and you +know what I thought from the beginning. You have never, so far as I +know, intimated a wish to be forgiven." + +"William says it is not my place to do so," said Abby. "He says they +ought to make the first advances, and that uncle has insulted him. +Not," she added hastily, "that I should do so, even if he would let me. +But we had better not talk about that! Let me take you up to your room: +you must be tired, and when William comes in, we will get your trunks +up. I used to wonder how people kept house without a man, but I am +finding out." + +Olive begged her sister not to trouble herself, and accompanied +her up-stairs to the bedroom destined for her. It was small, but +well-furnished, and tolerably neat, though showing signs of needing the +dusting-brush. + +"The dust settles on every thing so," said Abby. "I can't think why it +is. We did not use to see any dust at aunt Merton's. I hope you will +not laugh at my housekeeping, Olive! I do my best, but I know very well +things do not go on as they used to at home." + +"Aunt Merton has excellent servants, and plenty of them," said Olive, +encouragingly, "and she has kept house a good many years, while you are +only a beginner. You will soon learn." + +"I hope so," said Abby, "for I do hate to have things go wrong. Emma +Forester was here the first fortnight, and you don't know how nice +it was. She is not a bit like William—not at all a genius, though +she is cultivated. William says she cares for nothing but sewing and +Sunday-schools, but she is a real housekeeper, and I am sure Katy did +better for her than she does for me." + +"Why did she not stay?" asked Olive. + +"Oh! Her mother and Emmeline wanted her, and she had to go home. But +there comes William, and I must go down and have the trunks brought up." + +Olive heard, accordingly, an argument down in the hall, which ended in +the trunks being dragged up-stairs by a stout, good-natured English +girl. + +"I am afraid they are rather too heavy for you," said Olive kindly. + +"Oh! No, indeed. I'm very stout, you see, and Mrs. Forester is far too +delicate to put her hand to such a thing." + +Olive wondered whether that were the only alternative but she dressed +herself and went down-stairs. + +Mr. Forester, in dressing-gown and slippers, was stretched upon the +sofa in the parlor, reading a newspaper. He rose, however, when she +entered, and greeted her with his accustomed easy cordiality. + +"So you have come to see how far we have gone in the way of destruction +you so kindly prophesied to us!" said he, after a few common-place +inquiries. + +"I don't remember expressing any such prophecy," replied Olive. + +"Ah! Well, you thought so, and your pattern uncle thinks so still." + +"Perhaps we had better let that branch of the subject rest," said +Olive. "We shall not be likely to agree any better than we did before, +and I can not consent to hear my uncle spoken of, except with respect." + +"Very well," said Mr. Forester good-naturedly, "there are enough of +other subjects to talk about. What has become of Landon, and why did he +not come up with you?" + +"He is in town," replied Olive, "and will be here this evening. I +learned this morning, for the first time, that you were class-mates." + +"Yes, surely. We never were very intimate, though. Landon was one of +those plodding fellows, who give their whole energies to the daily +routine of study, and are great favorites with faculty and tutors in +consequence. He is just the man to make a lawyer or a minister." + +"Walter is very industrious," replied Olive. "I think sometimes he +hardly allows himself as much recreation as he needs, but his health +is good, and he always gives himself up entirely to every thing he +undertakes." + +"Yet he has given up the study of law as well as William," remarked +Abby, who had just come in. + +"No one can say that he has consulted his ease in so doing," replied +Olive, smiling, "since the one he has chosen is much more laborious, +besides being worse paid." + +"I can not conceive why he should have made the exchange," said +William; "he always seemed to enjoy the idea of studying law." + +"He thought it was his duty to do so." + +"His duty! Yes, that sounds just like him," laughed Mr. Forester. "'My +duty' always settled every thing for him. But, Abby, is not tea ready? +I am sure it is past the time." + +"It is just ready," was the reply; "I came in to tell you so." + +"I don't remember hearing any thing about it. Abby is not much of a +housekeeper, Miss McHenry. I wonder your good aunt did not give her +lessons." + +"Girls of seventeen are not apt to be good housekeepers," was the reply +that rose to Olive's lips, but she checked herself, and said simply: +"Abby has been a great deal in school, and she has had very little +experience. She will do very well, I dare say." + +"Oh! Yes, of course. Don't color so, little wife: you know you said as +much yourself this morning." + +The tea was very nice and abundant, though plain. The biscuits +especially were very nice, and Olive noticed them. + +"I made them myself," said Abby, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. +"Emma taught me while she was here." + +"You were an apt scholar, certainly," replied her husband, helping +himself to another. "But, my love, I should rather you would try your +skill in teaching Katy, than in doing such things yourself. A good +housekeeper directs, instead of doing—is head, and not hands." + +Abby looked mortified, and Olive felt indignant. + +"I am inclined to think, if you were to try it, you would sometimes +find it necessary to be head and hands too," said she: "at least, I +never saw a housekeeper who did not." + +Mr. Forester smiled and turned the conversation, but poor Abby's +spirits had received a check. She evidently felt a good deal like a +child who has taken a good deal of pains in preparing a present, and +then hears it criticised by the person for whom it is intended. Mr. +Forester seemed quite unconscious of having said any thing unkind, and +continued to make himself very gracious to Olive, and to Mr. Landon +when he appeared. + +"How do you like your new business?" asked Walter. + +"What do you mean, the nursery business? Oh! I gave that up, long ago. +My partner, who was a stupid fellow, thought I ought to take half the +labor of superintendence; and it did not suit me to be out in all +weathers. Besides, I did not like his ideas. I wanted to make the +grounds picturesque and pretty, but he had a notion that it was much +more convenient to plant the trees in straight rows all of a sort, with +a stake at the head of each. There was no beauty or grace in that! +Then, it really seems a very heartless thing to sell for money, a tree +or shrub which one has raised and nourished. So I gave it up, and lost +some money by it. I am keeping books now, till something better comes +along." + +"Play something, Abby," said Olive. "Have you learned any thing new?" + +"Not very lately; my hands have been too full." + +She played and sung better than ever, Olive thought, but Mr. Forester +thought she did not give exactly the correct expression. + +"I really wish my ear was not so fastidious, Miss McHenry. It deprives +me of any pleasure in ordinary music, and has prevented me from +practising enough to make a good player myself." + +Once more Abby looked uncomfortable, and Olive felt indignant. She +persuaded her sister to sing again and sang with her, Mr. Forester +talking all the time to Mr. Landon of the comparative merits of Jenny +Lind and Sontag. So the evening passed. + +Mr. Landon took his leave early, promising to call the next morning +before he left town. + +And Olive retired, feeling more than ever anxious about Abby's future. +She could see, now that she looked at her, that Abby was thinner than +usual—that she had lost much of her animation, and looked careworn. She +thought she saw in Mr. Forester the beginning of what she feared he +would become, when the first novelty of getting a wife and having his +own way about it was worn off—a selfish, exacting, careless husband, +seeking his own ease, and troubling himself very little about the +comfort of his wife. There were no signs of God being acknowledged +in the family—no grace at table, no evening prayers, not even a +family Bible in the parlor. She went to sleep at last, so full of sad +forebodings for Abby that she almost forgot to be thankful for herself. + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. + +EVERY day that Olive spent in her sister's house, convinced her +more and more that Abby, in her hasty and ill-advised marriage, had +made shipwreck of her life's happiness, and roused her indignation +more and more against her brother-in-law. She acquitted him of +deliberate tyranny and unkindness, but she could not help seeing how +systematically selfish he was—how he would let Abby go to market in +the rain, rather than take the trouble to order the dinner himself on +his way to his place of business. How he regularly took the best place +in the room, the best light by the window, the new book or newspaper +as soon as it came in. He would sit by the grate and let the fire +go entirely out, while Abby and Olive were shopping, or busy in the +kitchen, and he would never stir to make it up again unless he was +particularly requested to do so. + +On Sunday evening he would not go with them to a church at some little +distance where a clergyman was officiating that Abby particularly +desired to hear, playfully excusing himself upon the ground of always +being sleepy at evening service, and disliking the style of music. But +the next day but one, he dragged them out to a picture-exhibition quite +at the other end of the town, though the day was damp and unpleasant, +and Abby had a bad cold. In short, he always considered himself first +of any one. + +Olive could not guess whether Abby was at all aware of her husband's +failings. Of course she could not say a word about them, even if it +would have done any good. Several other things were very apparent. One +was, that Abby was not strong. She got very tired with her household +cares, few as they were in comparison with those of many people, and +the unaccustomed responsibility weighed on her mind. She really too +great pains to learn, and Olive assisted her as much as she could, +but many times did she see the tears start to the poor child's eyes +after she had taken great pains in the concoction of some dish for +dinner or tea, to hear some careless criticism from her husband, or his +often-repeated remark: + +"I do not want you to do such things, Abby. Leave them to Katy. +How often must I tell you, my dear, that it is the part of a good +housekeeper to direct and not to work herself? You are getting really +quite coarse from working in the kitchen." + +Then Abby's color would rise, and she would be unable to eat a +mouthful, while Mr. Forester would complacently enjoy the fruit of his +wife's labors. + +"I do wish Abby were not so sensitive and touchy," he said to Olive one +day. + +"We always thought she had a remarkably serene temper at home," replied +Olive. "You should remember how young she is—only seventeen now, and +the cares of life weigh heavily upon her." + +"I do not think she has so very much to do," said Mr. Forester, in a +tone of injured innocence. "I take all I can upon myself; and I have +often seen women with much larger families who got on much better than +Abby does." + +"I do not think Abby is very well," remarked Olive. "She looks very +pale oftentimes, and has not a particle of appetite in the morning." + +Mr. Forester seemed rather alarmed, and for some days was so attentive +and considerate that Abby was quite happy, and Olive almost began to +like him. + +But it did not last long; he soon became as careless as ever, and the +cloud settled again upon his little wife's spirits. It was touching +to see how she endeavored to deceive herself and Olive, how much she +made of every kindness, how proud she was of his accomplishments, and +how anxious to conceal his deficiencies. In all that related to her +affections for her husband, she was a woman: in every thing else, she +was a child. + +She confessed to Olive after a while that she was often very home-sick, +and longed to see her uncle and aunt, and that she would have written +to beg pardon long before "if William had thought it best; not of +course that I would say I was sorry for having married him, you know, +but sorry that they were displeased at it. I can not bear to think of +their being angry," she said, her eyes overflowing. "I never could +endure to have even one of the girls in school put out with me." + +"I do not think uncle would require you to say any thing more than that +you were sorry for having displeased him, but he thinks you ought to +make some acknowledgment of error, and indeed so do I." + +"Do they ever talk of me?" + +"Aunt does very often. She never writes without asking me whether I +have heard from you, and how you are. I can tell you, Abby, there are +not many orphan girls who have kinder friends than we have been blessed +with." + +"Yet you were very anxious to make yourself independent of them." + +"In a pecuniary point of view—yes! I felt as if it were wrong to be +dependent upon uncle for a living as long as I could support myself. +But I have never made myself in any way independent of their authority, +and have no wish to do so." + +"Well," replied Abby, "what is done can not be helped. Perhaps matters +will take a turn before I see you again, if I ever do. Sometimes I +think I never shall." + +"That is a foolish thought, my baby," said Olive, taking her sister's +head upon her lap as she used to do in school, to soothe Abby's +troubles; "why should you think so?" + +"I don't know; I am not very well, and—you know mother died that way." + +"But just think, Pussy, how many children are born every year, and +people get well directly; and as for mother, I don't think she would +have died but for the other troubles, father's death and the poverty +and all. You must not encourage these gloomy fancies indeed, my love. +It is worse than foolish, it is downright wrong. It is a want of faith +in God." + +Abby sighed again deeply. "Dear Olive, I am very much to blame, I +know, about that and many things. I can not go to church as I used to. +William does not always want to attend, and I hate to go alone; and +even if I do, it does not seem to do me much good. I wish I were a +little girl again, as I was when I first went to uncle's to live, or +else I wish I had not been so happy all my life." + +"But you must rouse yourself, Abby, my child," said Olive, cheerfully; +"you have never known care before, and you are very young indeed to +have the responsibility of a family upon your shoulders. But if you +keep up good courage and do your best, the hardest parts will soon be +past, and you will go on easier. Every one has some trouble at first." + +"If I could only ever do right." + +"I think you do wonders, both in cooking and housekeeping." + +"William thinks I might get along with directing Katy, and doing +nothing myself," said Abby, "but I have tried and I can not. She is +good-natured, and willing to do any thing she can, but she is not much +of a cook, and she is careless unless I stand over her. I think she has +learned good deal, though." + +"Oh! Yes, she has improved since I came. If you keep her a few months +longer, she will turn out an excellent servant, I am sure." + +"But Olive, when I am sick will you come and be with me if you can? I +think I shall die if I am left alone." + +"I promise you, baby. Keep up good courage, have faith in God, and I am +sure all will go well." + +The vacation lasted six weeks, and Olive spent four with her sister. +She would willingly have devoted to her the whole six, but Mrs. Merton +would not hear of it. And she reluctantly took her leave. + +"Olive has promised to come to me next winter if I want her," said Abby +to her husband after she had done crying. + +"Has she?" replied Mr. Forester absently, and working busily at a +sketch of "the East Wind," that had occupied him and the only table in +the room for several evenings. "But don't you think after all, my love, +that it is pleasanter to be by ourselves? Olive is very nice, but she +is a little severe, a little trying, with her extremely practical ways. +But never mind," he added, seeing Abby's eyes ready to overflow again. +"You shall have her if you want her, my dear, if she were ten times as +practical. Only, I hope you do not mean to cry so every time she goes +away, or I shall wish her somewhere else. I can't bear to see women +cry, and you of all others. Come now, don't shed any more tears, but +look at my head of the east wind, and tell me how you like it." + +Abby dried her eyes, looked at the picture, and was duly interested. +She tried to keep from crying afterwards, and sustained her spirits +wonderfully, considering how much she was alone. + +Mrs. Granger interested herself much in the poor child, as she called +her, and went to see her as often as she could, giving her many useful +hints about household management, etc., but she was of course much +engaged. + +Abby had many lonely hours, when it was very hard not to dwell upon the +dark side of the picture, when she could not help seeing that her idol +was not a god—that even marriage with a man she loves is not enough to +make a woman happy. + +But in these very lonely hours she found comfort after a while. The +lessons she had learned ever so long ago at her mother's knee began +to come back to her; many a passage learned in Sunday-school invested +itself with a new meaning. The little Bible she had brought away with +her came to lie in her work-basket, and chapters which used to be only +tasks now became full of divinest comfort. The poor child crept timidly +near, and laid her weary head on her Saviour's arm. Thus she grew +happier by degrees, and wrote so much more cheerfully that Olive was +quite encouraged about her. + + +Olive's vacation at home was very pleasant. No one could be kinder +than Mrs. Merton, though the sight of her niece seemed to renew her +indignation at Mr. Landon's eccentricity, and Olive had to summon all +her philosophy to meet the expression of it. + +Charlotte, for a wonder, supported Olive, against her mother, and +declared that Mr. Landon was right and consistent, and that she +respected him for the course he had taken, though she was sorry for +Olive's disappointment about getting settled in a home of her own. + +Mrs. Merton was vexed, then laughed, called them a pair of romantic +girls, and declared they would know better when they were older. + +"Of course you think every thing Walter does is just right, now. But +wait till you have been married ten years." + +"Or till I have been married as long as aunt Rebecca," Olive ventured +to say laughingly. "Now tell me honestly, aunt, don't you think uncle +Merton is about as perfect as human nature allows any one to be?" + +"Oh!—Well, yes, perhaps so. But your uncle would never do any thing so +romantic." + +"That depends upon what you call romantic. Some people would have +thought it a very romantic proceeding to adopt two orphan girls, and +give them an expensive education." + +"Yes, I know many people did say so, but I assure you, my dear, we +have never regretted it—not even when poor Abby disappointed us so +sadly. And now, Olive, tell me all about the poor child. I have had no +opportunity to ask you. Does she seem comfortable? Is her husband kind +to her?" + +"I do not think he means to be unkind, aunt. I believe he loves her as +well as he can love any one but himself. But he is selfish in little +things, and not very considerate, and I think Abby feels it." + +"Of course she must," said Mrs. Merton emphatically. "A constant +display of small selfishness will do more to render a household +uncomfortable than even very serious faults of temper. And how are they +situated in a pecuniary point of view? Do they seem to have enough?" + +Olive thought they seemed comfortable for the present, but she had +doubts for the future. "Mr. Forester has given up his nursery business, +and says he has lost money by it." + +"Why did he do that?" asked Charlotte. + +"So far as I could find, his only reason was that he discovered it to +be work instead of play. He said his partner cared for nothing but +making money, and persisted in planting all the trees in straight +lines. He is keeping books, now. But I don't believe he will persevere +in it long. Abby tries very hard. It is really affecting to see the +pains she takes to learn to cook and to sew. I am certain she never +worked so hard at any school-lesson as she did to learn to make +soda-biscuits." + +"Poor, dear child!" said Mrs. Merton. "Only to think of her little +hands doing such things. And does her husband appreciate her efforts?" + +"I don't believe he does. He does not think there is any need of her +working, herself, and I have heard him tell her, two or three times, +that if she only knew how to direct, there would be no need of her +putting her hand to any thing." + +"How absurd!" said Charlotte. "I wonder how my father would get on in +his office, on that principle, or a merchant in his store?" + +"It troubles Abby very much, and discourages her, too," said Olive. + +"And how do you think Abby felt about us?" asked Mrs. Merton. "Do you +think she ever feels as if she would like to see us again? I don't want +you to betray confidence, my dear," she added, seeing Olive hesitate, +"but I feel anxious to know." + +"I do not know that I shall betray any confidence in telling my own +thoughts, aunt," said Olive. "I think Abby would very gladly ask to be +forgiven, if Mr. Forester would let her. She would not say that she was +sorry she married him, of course." + +"Certainly not," interrupted Mrs. Merton. "We should never ask that." + +"But I do think it makes her very unhappy to be so entirely separated +from the family. She made me promise to be with her at the time of her +confinement, if I could, but I shall not be surprised if Mr. Forester +contrives to prevent it, for I know very well he does not like me. Abby +is very low-spirited about it, and thinks she shall never get well. I +am afraid she is sad enough, when she is alone, as of course she must +be, a great deal of the time." + +"Poor child!" sighed Mrs. Merton again. "How I do wish I could send +and have her here, at home! If she would only take one step toward a +reconciliation, I am sure your uncle would forgive her at once." + +"I am sure he would, if he were to see her." + +"Well, my love, we will have patience; all will be brought round yet. I +am sure I wish poor Abby well, with all my heart!" A fact which Olive +did not in the least doubt. + + +Laura seemed to be going on in much the same way as ever, but Olive +did not see her. Mrs. Dimsden had taken her down to the sea-shore, and +from there to Saratoga, where her dazzling beauty and sweet manners +attracted much attention. Laura seemed to be in Paradise, to judge +from her letters, which were very long, and so filled from end to end +with descriptions of dances, parties, and every thing of that sort, +that Olive hardly had patience to read them through. Now that Abby was +in some degree separated from her, she felt more and more painfully +the distance between herself and Laura. They did not seem to have one +thought in common. + +Charlotte was much more of a companion to her, though they differed so +widely upon many points. She was at least serious and thoughtful. She +was not impatient of half an hour's grave conversation, and she had a +thorough respect for goodness in others. + +Laura valued people by their dress, their station, their fine houses, +and above all, by their degree of fashion. It was respectable to go to +church, and besides, it was a good place to see and be seen, so she +went regularly, and knelt gracefully at all proper places, but she did +not like the preaching, especially Doctor Eastman's preaching, and she +wished they would leave that out. She thought his personal appeals to +the hearts and consciences of his flock very Methodistical, such being +the title given by a great many people to any thing like earnestness. + +She could understand, or thought she could, the motives of Miss +Eustace, an heiress, and a very beautiful and dignified person, in +presenting a superb altar-cloth and set of cushions to the church, but +she could not comprehend why the same Miss Eustace should sit back with +her Sunday scholars, every Sunday, and find all their places for them, +or why she should spend a great deal of her time in working for them, +when no one would know it, unless by accident. Laura lived entirely in +and for this world, and thought or cared no more for any other than if +she had had no soul. + + +Olive returned to Basswoods, feeling as if the winter would be rather +a long one. Walter was not there. He had gone, after a short visit in +M., to pursue his studies at a distance. He was to return at Christmas +for a week, and to this week she looked forward as a weary passenger on +shipboard looks for the land. + +The school filled up at once, and so many large girls came in, that +Olive, after a good deal of consideration and consultation, came to the +conclusion that it would by necessary to have another teacher for the +little ones. Mrs. Tucker and a few of her special adherents, who had +formed a sort of party against Olive, manœuvred greatly to get this +appointment into their own hands. Mrs. Tucker wished to give it to a +young friend of her own, and, by what she considered a master-stroke of +policy, she invited that young lady to come and make her a visit during +the vacation. Miss Lambert was really a nice sort of girl, and would +have answered Olive's purpose very well, but Mrs. Tucker had reckoned +without her host, and like some other great generals, had out-manœuvred +not her adversary, but herself. Mr. Jones heard his sister-in-law's +innuendoes and suggestions very patiently, for some time. + +"Sister Tucker," he broke out at last, "do you really think the +trustees are going to do such a mean and uncivil thing as to put an +assistant into the school without consulting Miss McHenry's wishes +about it?" + +"I don't see the incivility," replied Mrs. Tucker, a good deal alarmed, +but standing her ground. "If Miss McHenry did not like it, she could +leave." + +"Yes, and that is what you want. Because she checked Melissa in her +tattling when she first came, as you ought to have done yourself +long ago, you have always been against her. Now, listen to me. These +insinuations against Miss McHenry must be put a stop to, at once and +forever. They do you no credit, let me tell you, either as a woman or a +Christian, and you do Miss Lambert great harm. She seems a pretty good +girl, and if Miss McHenry approves of her, there may be no objection to +having her. But not one step shall be taken without her concurrence." + +Mrs. Tucker could only murmur something about "not meaning any harm." + +"Then be careful you don't do any harm. I have seen so much malice, and +so much mischief under that cloak of not meaning any harm, that I don't +think much of it." + +In effect, Miss McHenry, understanding the state of the case, willing +to conciliate, and having seen Miss Lambert and conversed with her away +from her champion, Mrs. Tucker, was very well pleased with her, and +signified to the trustees that she had no objection to their giving her +the vacant place. + +Mrs. Tucker exulted greatly, but her triumph was of short duration. +For Miss Lambert, being really an honest, good-hearted, affectionate +girl, and positively declining to tell tales out of school, and +submitting herself entirely to the guidance of her principal, Mrs. +Tucker considered her as having gone over to the enemy, and quarrelled +with her, accordingly. It became necessary for her to seek a new +boarding-place, and as she had abundance of room, Olive persuaded Mrs. +Felton to take her. + +Maria was young, and her opportunities had not been great. She +delighted to read and study under Olive's direction, and she, on her +part, grew very much attached to her, and so ended an affair which +might have been a very serious one for our heroine, had her friends +been one whit less straightforward or sensible. + +But Miss Lambert did not remain through the year, for a very good +reason—an excellent reason, indeed, since it was no other than Mr. +Prendergrass. That gentleman had fallen into the habit of visiting at +least once a week at Mrs. Felton's, and to him habit was second nature. +So he kept on visiting there, as usual, after Olive returned. And now +that there was no farther danger of mistakes, Olive was very glad to +see him. + +But after Miss Lambert came, she began to perceive, with much +amusement, that she was not the principal attraction. He talked to +her, indeed, but he looked at Maria. She was very glad to observe, +after a little, that Maria herself had no objection to have Mr. +Prendergrass look at her, that she was glad to see him when he came, +and low-spirited if he went away early, or failed to present himself at +the usual time. + +At last, one day, not long after the holidays, Maria came to Olive's +room, and with blushes, and smiles, and tears, and much pretty +confusion, acquainted her with the fact that Mr. Prendergrass had +offered himself to her, and wished to be advised. + +"About what does Maria wish to be advised?" Olive asked. + +Maria wanted to be advised whether she should marry Mr. Prendergrass or +not. + +"That depends entirely upon circumstances, my dear. If you do not love +him, you ought not to marry him." + +"But I am afraid I do love him," sobbed Maria. + +"Then you had better marry him, by all means, my love, if there is no +other objection. He is a most excellent man, and no doubt will make you +very happy." + +"You know I have neither father nor mother," said Maria. "I have hardly +a friend in the world but you." + +"Don't think of marrying simply for a home, Maria. I would rather you +did almost any thing else." + +"I don't indeed, Miss McHenry. I would rather go to the poor-house. But +I do like him so very much, and he is so good—that—that—" + +"That you can not help crying about it," said Olive smiling, and +kissing her. "My love, I think you could hardly have done better, and I +wish you joy with all my heart. Now then, dry your eyes and answer Mr. +Prendergrass's note and don't keep the poor man in suspense any longer." + +"Poor man," she thought as Maria left the room. "I need not have +distressed myself so much about breaking his heart and all that. I do +not believe men's hearts are so easily fractured after all." + +Olive felt some awkwardness upon meeting and congratulating her former +lover upon his approaching marriage, but there was no necessity for any +embarrassment upon her part, for he evidently felt none. The fact that +he had once cared himself to Olive seemed to have passed entirely from +his mind, and he could think of nothing and look at nothing but his +dear Maria. + +There was no reason why the marriage should be delayed, as Mr. +Prendergrass beside his salary had a comfortable little property, the +result of his savings for many years. + +Augusta and Ruth helped Olive to put Maria's wardrobe into a state +befitting so grand an occasion. She had many presents, indeed quite a +setting out of plate and china from those who took an interest in the +motherless girl. The wedding took place at Mrs. Felton's and was quite +a splendid affair. Contrary to the forebodings of those who knew his +habits, Mr. Prendergrass was not late and did not forget the ring. +Maria looked very lovely, the bridegroom very manly and sensible, and +every one was pleased except Mrs. Tucker. + +That lady was not pleased. She thought Mr. Prendergrass ought to be +ashamed of himself to marry such a little chit of a girl as Maria +Lambert—a man of "his" age! It was all an affair of Miss McHenry's +getting up, and just like her. Maria had been a good girl before she +fell under that woman's influence—but she had shown the disposition of +a serpent in going to Mrs. Felton's, as if that lady was in the habit +of taking reptiles to board, and she would have no more to do with her: +so she would not go to the wedding, though Maria invited her, and would +not call upon her, though they lived very near—a circumstance which +probably did not detract in the least from the happiness of Maria's +married life. + +It was wonderful and exceedingly pleasant to see how Mr. Prendergrass +improved under the influence of his young wife. He learned to dress, +talk, and comport himself much like ordinary mortals, discovered that +there were other objects in life besides books, and entertained company +at home with great propriety. Maria was as happy as the day was long, +thought her husband the most wonderful of men, and herself the happiest +woman in the world, especially after Olive consented to take her +younger sister in her place. She insisted upon Olive's coming to make +them a visit. + +And Olive accepted the invitation and enjoyed it greatly, thinking at +least once every day how much Mr. Prendergrass was superior to Mr. +Forester though he could not have told a Claude from a Turner—and his +musical knowledge, like the western gentleman's, only amounted to two +tunes, one of which was Old Hundred and the other wasn't; and how much +happier Maria was than poor Abby. + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. + +OLIVE was not with Abby at her confinement, after all—not from any +fault of her own, but because Mr. Forester had very clearly intimated +that he did not want her, and preferred even his own sister Emma, whom +he did not seem to like very well either. But though Olive was not with +her, Aunt Merton was—to explain which, we must go back a little. + +As the time of trial drew near, Emma Forester, who was staying with +Abby, saw that there was something which weighed upon her mind and +disturbed her very much. + +Emma was a kind-hearted and practical woman—she had need to be so, +having exercised in her own person all the common-sense which had been +brought to bear upon the family affairs since she was twelve years' +old. She was not a favorite with her brothers or sisters, and truth +to say, Emma's manners were not amiable: she was apt to be short and +rather sharp in her replies, and to criticise, especially her brother +William, pretty severely. She had been very much displeased with him +for his marriage, an affair which his mother considered as at worst +only an amiable eccentricity—but her anger did not extend to her little +sister-in-law, for whom she felt very sorry, well-knowing what was +before her. + +William had positively declined having Olive to stay with Abby during +her confinement, not so much in words, as in looks and tones, giving +it to be understood that he preferred having his house to himself. +He would not have had Emma either, if he could have helped himself, +but she left him no choice, coming of her own accord about six +weeks beforehand, and establishing herself for a long stay, without +consulting him. + +Abby was delighted to have Emma, since she could not have Olive. They +suited very well: Emma from temper and habit liking to direct, and +Abby pleased to be directed. Emma took at once the whole charge of +housekeeping off her sister's hands, leaving her to take the rest she +so much needed: and this in itself was a great relief. + +But her good offices did not end here. She saw that Abby was very +unhappy—that she had some secret trouble, apart from the vague fear +of death which had haunted her by turns for a long time. And she set +herself kindly and delicately to discover and if possible to remedy it. +At last, after much coaxing, it all came out in a gush of tears. + +"O Emma! I want to see aunt Rebecca so much. I want to tell her how +very sorry I am for displeasing her, and ask her to forgive me." + +"Well, love, what hinders you from writing to her? I dare say she would +come and see you at once, if she knew you desired to see her." + +"I am sure she would," sobbed Abby. "Olive says she always asks about +me. I would give any thing to see her once more." + +"Why not write immediately?" asked Emma. + +"William does not wish to have me, Emma. He does not like aunt, and he +thinks uncle has insulted him. I did speak about it once, but—" A new +gush of tears followed, as she recalled the scene. + +"Don't cry, my dear—now you really must not!" said Emma, with +authority. "I think it can be managed, and if it can not, you must not +make yourself ill about it. Lie down, child, and don't try to sew: I +will attend to all that." + +Abby still looked anxious. "I don't know whether it is best for you to +say any thing, Emma. I am afraid—" + +"Tut! Tut! My dear. He is not my husband, you know. I have not said +that I shall speak to him either, but I want you to be gratified, if +possible." + +"You do not think it is a notion—do you, Emma?" + +"No, child; I think it is a feeling that does you credit. And even if +it were, I don't see why your notions should not be gratified, as well +as those of other people." + +"Well, I don't know," sighed Abby. "I am afraid I am very troublesome +and fanciful sometimes. Nothing ever used to disturb me when I was a +girl. Olive used to cry five times to my once. But lately, some how, +every thing seems so heavy and hard to me—even things that would not +have made any impression on me a year ago. I am afraid it is my fault, +and that I am growing very unamiable." + +"You are sick, child; that is all." + +"I am glad you think so. You are so good to me, Emma. I don't know how +I shall ever repay you." + +"Pshaw!" returned Emma shortly. "One must be hard-hearted indeed, to be +any thing but good to such a poor little forlorn bird as you are. I am +glad if I can do any thing for you, I am sure." + +William was out in the evening. There was a grand concert in town, and +the tickets were only a dollar. He had lost his place as accountant +that morning, and wanted something to divert his mind from what even he +thought rather an unpleasant circumstance. So he went to the concert, +and afterwards took an oyster-supper downtown with a friend, feeling +not at all uneasy at being out late, since he knew Emma would not let +his wife sit up for him. He was a little vexed to find Emma herself +awaiting his return. + +"Why did you sit up?" he asked. "You know I can let myself in." + +"I did not sit up altogether for you," replied Emma. "I had a piece of +work to finish to-night. But I do want to speak to you about Abby." + +"Is she ill?" asked Mr. Forester, rather anxiously. + +"She is as well as she has been for some days past, but she is very +unhappy, poor child." + +"What does she want now?" said he, with the air of a man accustomed to +yield to a vast number of unreasonable desires upon the part of his +wife. "I am ready to do any thing in reason." + +"She wants to see her aunt," replied Emma, as usual coming to the point +at once. + +Mr. Forester's face was darkened by a very unpleasant frown. "I thought +I had settled that matter once for all," he said, tapping his finger +upon the table. "I told Abby that when her uncle would apologize for +his treatment of me, I would let her see him, and not before. I must +say, she forgets her duty as a wife, in complaining of me to you, and I +do not think the better of you for encouraging her in it." + +"She has not complained of you!" returned Emma, indignantly. "She +thinks you are a demi-god, or somewhere near it, poor child." + +"How did this come out, then?" + +"I guessed it, and she admitted that it was so." + +"And told you I would not let her write?" + +"She said you thought it was not best." + +"I do think so. I think, too, that Abby forgets herself strangely, +in cherishing a desire which she knows to be directly contrary to +my judgment. Since you are in her confidence, you may tell her that +neither Mr. nor Mrs. Merton shall ever enter my doors, till they make +me a humble apology. In her present condition, there is nothing to be +done but to get along with her whims as easily as possible, but when +she is better—it don't signify talking of it now! I thought you knew +that I had too much pride and self-respect to be over-crowed by my +wife's relations." + +He took up his candle to go up-stairs. + +"Very good," said Emma, coolly. "Keep your pride and self-respect, and +lose your wife. Do you know what Dr. M. thinks of her?" + +William hesitated, turned, and came back to the table. "Doctors are so +fanciful," he said peevishly. + +Emma did not reply. + +"Do you really think, Emma, that there is danger?" + +"There is always danger," was the brief response. + +"I should be sorry to cross her unnecessarily," he continued, after +another pause. "She tries her best to please me, I must say, but,—don't +you think, Emma, she is very childish?" + +"Very, or she would never have married you," was the rather unpromising +reply. "But you are the last person who ought to complain of that. You +knew what she was when you took her." + +"I knew she was young and girlish, and thought I could form her mind—" + +"You had better have formed your own first," interrupted his sister. + +"I thought I could make her what I wanted. You know what sort of woman +I always admired—a gentle, yielding character that would twine round +her husband like the honeysuckle round an elm." + +"Like a pea round a pumpkin-vine would be the better comparison in your +case," said Emma. "You never could stand alone yourself, much less +sustain any thing else. But there is no use in talking of that now: the +mischief is done, and you have only to make the best of it. Now, the +case stands thus. Abby, like, all young girls in such circumstances, +thinks she is certainly going to die, and I do not know but she is +right, for Dr. M. is very anxious—at any rate, she thinks so. She is +longing, from the bottom of her affectionate little heart to see the +people who have brought her up, and been father and mother to her—and +to be friends with them. It is a reasonable wish, too. But you, for the +sake of sustaining your absurd pride, deny her this comfort—perhaps the +last that it may be yours to grant. You admit that she has never gone +contrary to your wishes since you married her, and, on the contrary, +has striven in every way to please you, and yet you will not make this +small sacrifice to soothe her hour of trial—perhaps of death!" + +"Settle it in your own fashion!" said Mr. Forester abruptly, and +turning away. "I am willing she should have the whole clan here, Olive +and all, if it will do her any good. Only let me know when they are +coming that I may be out of the way, and avoid the scene. I must look +out for something to do, I suppose, and I have not much hope of finding +it here. I can make that an excuse for running away for a few days." + +"Something to do! What do you mean?" asked his sister, with a feeling +of anxiety which prevented her from noticing, as she otherwise would +have done, the heartlessness of this speech. + +"Oh! I have given up my engagement with Hancock, and shall be out +of work after to-morrow," he replied, with a vain attempt to appear +unconcerned. + +"William, are you mad? Why did you throw up your situation without +knowing that you had something to turn to, at this time of all others? +What was the matter?" + +"The matter was that we could not agree, and so we thought it best to +part," returned Mr. Forester doggedly. "He wanted to pin me down to +the desk from Monday morning till Saturday night, ten hours a day. I +thought I had a right to some relaxation now and then. So I went off on +a fishing-party two or three times, you know, and was not there when he +expected me. Then I COULD not give my whole attention to figures; it is +quite too tiresome and stupid, and narrows down one's mind to a mere +point. The consequence was, that I made some trifling mistakes, and so +you see—" + +"I see," said Emma, finishing the sentence for him, "that as usual, +you have no one to blame but yourself! William, when will you ever be +a man? You talk of Abby's being a child, and so she is, but a good and +obedient child; while you are a perverse, self-willed boy—a torment to +yourself and every one that has any thing to do with you." + +She walked nervously up and down the room a few times. William took +up a pen and began to draw figures all over a sheet of music-paper. +He was used to his sister's fault-finding, and waited patiently till +she should exhaust her vexation, and propose some remedy for his +embarrassments. + +"There is no use in all that," he said at last; "and besides, you will +disturb Abby." + +"Very true," replied Emma, pausing in her walk, and throwing herself +into a corner of the sofa. "I am glad you have the grace to think of +her. How much have you beforehand?" + +"Well, perhaps two hundred dollars—perhaps a little more. I do not know +exactly how much of my salary I have drawn." + +"Don't you keep an account?" + +"No, indeed! I tried it once, but the cigars, and so on, mounted up so—" + +His sister made a gesture of impatience, and he returned to his trees. + +"Is that all you have to depend upon?" + +"Pretty much all. There may be a little coming in from publishers." + +"And out of this, your rent is to be paid—and the physician, and poor +Katy, and the nurse, and housekeeping to be carried on! How do you +think it is all to be done?" + +"I don't know, I am sure," replied William, with an air of virtuous +resignation. "I hope it will all come right some way. I must find +something else to do, after I have enjoyed a little vacation, and poor +Abby is right again. And now, don't you think we had better break up +this council and retire? If she wakes, she may be alarmed. I won't say +any thing to her, but you may tell her that she may write as penitent a +letter as she pleases, disowning her husband and all his relations, if +she will—" + +"You know she does not want to do that. She only wants—" + +"She only wants what is right, and you, too, I dare say, sis, though +you are rather sharp in your way of putting it. Come, now, don't look +so miserable," he added, in a coaxing way, putting his arm round her. +"I will be as steady as old Hancock himself, if you will only kiss and +be friends." + +Emma yielded, as she almost always did in the end, to her fascinating +brother's soothing and coaxing, so far as to kiss him good-night. But +she lay awake till almost morning, thinking what was to become of her +brother and sister when worse came to the worst—when they had spent all +they had, and exhausted every one's patience. + +Abby roused up as William entered, and begged to know if there was any +thing wrong, but being gayly assured that every thing was very right, +went quietly to sleep again. + +As for William, nothing disturbed his slumbers: if he had been going +to be hanged the next morning, he would have slept equally well, +comforting himself with the reflection that something favorable would +certainly happen before the time came. + +Abby was very happy next morning when Emma informed her that there +was no farther objection to her writing to her aunt, but her joy was +a little damped when she was told (for Emma thought best to tell her) +that William would probably have to be away upon business at the +time. Still, it was with a joyful heart that she sat down to indite +her letter, which she wrote and rewrote with a nervous anxiety, till +Emma, seeing the state of the case, took the best copy from her hand, +pronounced it good enough, folded and sealed it, and then placed it +before Abby, to direct. William carried it to the post, without any +remark, and made his wife very happy all day by a great many kind +words, and some little attentions, which cost him nothing, but which +were invaluable to her. + +The family at Mr. Merton's were seated at the breakfast-table, when the +letter was brought in. + +Mrs. Merton took it, and broke the seal. And when Charlotte looked up +from one of her own a moment after, she was both astonished and alarmed +to see such an unusual sight as tears rolling down her mother's cheeks. +She rose hastily, as did Mr. Merton, and the Black Prince, with his +accustomed delicacy, withdrew, under the pretext of seeking hot cakes, +but remained close by the outside of the door—perhaps to be within call. + +"It is from Abby," said Mrs. Merton, as soon as she could find a +voice. "The poor dear child has come to her senses at last. Read it, +Charlotte, my dear." + +And Charlotte read, being obliged to pause more than once in the course +of it. When she had done, she looked anxiously from one to the other. + +"You will go—you will go at once, father, will you not?" + +"Certainly, my dear child, if your mother says so. I dislike the idea +of meeting Forester, but poor Abby must not be disappointed. Yes, we +will go at once." + +"You will not see him," said Charlotte. "Did you not notice, she says +he will be obliged to go away upon business?" + +"Then we will set out without delay—as early as to-morrow," said Mrs. +Merton. + +"Why not to-day?" asked her husband. "There is time enough." + +"Perhaps it will be better to leave space for a letter to precede us," +suggested Mrs. Merton. "We must not startle her, you know." + +Mr. Merton acquiesced, and Charlotte sat down, at once, to write the +letter. + +How delighted Abby was when she received it! She laughed and cried +by turns, kissed her husband and thanked him so many times that he +really began to think he had made a meritorious sacrifice, and felt +very self-complacent in consequence. He half-resolved to stay and face +it out, but found his courage failing the next morning, and went off, +bidding his wife a most affectionate farewell, thinking, as he went, +how badly he should feel if he were to lose her, and beginning at once +to set his possible feelings first to rhyme and then to music, till he +composed an affecting song, called the "Widower's Lament." + +Abby would sit at the window and watch for carriages till she was +wearied out, and obliged to lie down upon the sofa, in spite of +herself. Then she fell asleep, and when she awoke, she found her aunt +and uncle sitting beside her. + +It is impossible to say what extravagances she might have committed, +if aunt Rebecca had not put on her most impressive face of authority, +and absolutely forbidden her to speak one word. Abby submitted, and lay +still, hardly daring to think that she was awake, and not dreaming. +She still lay upon the sofa, feeling very weak, but very happy, while +the others went out to tea, listening, with subdued pleasure, to their +voices, and enjoying the thought that uncle and aunt Merton were taking +tea in her house. + +How exactly it seemed like old times, when aunt Rebecca brought her her +tea in the little silver mug which she had always used at home, and +which had been sent to her, with the rest of her possessions, at the +time of her marriage. She could almost believe that she had never been +away at all. + +Aunt Merton was one who never did any thing by halves. When she made +up her mind to take Abby into favor, she did it heartily, and showed +that she did, by making no allusions to the past, except such as were +necessary in talking over affairs in M. The neighbors, the servants, +the garden, above all, Laura's approaching marriage, were all talked +over again and again, till Mr. Merton suggested that Abby must be +tired, and that they had better go. + +Abby, however, was very anxious to have them stay. There was plenty of +room, and if aunt thought she could be comfortable—. + +Aunt had no doubt at all about that, and so they staid. It was well +they did, for Abby was taken ill in the night, and after some hours of +considerable danger, was "as well as could be expected," with a fine +little daughter. + +Emma telegraphed to her brother with but a faint hope of his getting +the message, for she knew he would probably be off fishing or +scenery-hunting, and so it proved. He did not return till nearly a week +had elapsed, and knew nothing of the matter till Emma met him at the +door. He was sufficiently alarmed, on hearing the state of the case, to +ward off the lecture which had been brewing for him, and she had hard +work to keep him from rushing up to his wife's room at once. + +Aunt Merton came down to see him, while he was waiting for Emma to +prepare Abby, and though nothing but politeness, and even cordiality, +were expressed in her tone, she succeeded, in ten minutes, in making +him feel more like some condemned piece of furniture about to be sent +to auction than like the master of his own house. + +Abby was not so well as she had been, and William was cautioned +against exciting her. He was very much affected at the sight of the +wee colorless face, looking smaller than ever from the absence of the +accustomed curls, and showed so much feeling that Mrs. Merton began to +think she had done him injustice. + +Abby brightened up very much after he came home, and she really was +very happy—happy in her baby, which she found some difficulty in +imagining to be really hers—in her husband whom she felt was showing +to excellent advantage—in having so many friends about her, and every +one so much kinder than she deserved. She felt sad when she thought of +their all going away and leaving her alone. But then there would be +baby, and she thought she could not be very lonely. + +Emma wished very much that she could stay, but she well knew that it +would be impossible. + +Mrs. Forester and Emmeline fancied they were unable to live without +her. Emmeline liked to think that she had delicate health, and that it +hurt her to work. She could go to two or three parties in a week, and +dance till two o'clock in the morning, though it always made her feel +dreadfully to dust the parlor, and fatigued her almost to extinction to +make her own bed. She always got a terrible headache over plain sewing, +though she could embroider for hours, yes, even upon silver canvas, and +her crochet collars and mats almost equalled real lace in fineness. In +short, Emmeline could play to any extent, but work always made her sick +directly. + +Mrs. Forester never thought that Emmeline ought to be crossed in any +thing. She was not strong herself, and she was very fanciful besides +being proud, and her pride was constantly brought into active exercise +by the reduced circumstances of the family, and the consequent struggle +to keep up appearances. When Emma was at home, she earned something +by translating and editing for a publisher of children's books, and +moreover she took the whole oversight of the household, besides doing a +great part of the work. It is easy to see that she could not be spared. + +Abby did not recover so rapidly as they had at first hoped. She did +not seem to have any particular disorder, but she gained strength very +slowly, and now and then slight symptoms of a tendency to disease +of the lungs alarmed her aunt and the physician. She was very much +distressed when she found that William had lost his place, for she was +beginning to realize how much it cost them to keep house, and she knew +her husband would never exercise any sort of economy. It cost her a +feverish night, and she was worse for three or four days. + +Mr. Merton saw that something had gone wrong and that Mr. Forester was +out of employment. And after a day or two, he ventured to make some +inquiries of that gentleman relative to his affairs. + +Mr. Forester was decidedly stiff and cold at first, but he could not +withstand Mr. Merton's kindness, and moreover he was at his wits' +end for the means of supporting himself and his wife. His mother had +heretofore been his resource when he had exhausted his own finances, +but she had impoverished herself in her efforts to help him. And Emma, +in answer to a hint of the sort, had informed him that any farther +assistance from that quarter was entirely out of the question. He +confessed to Mr. Merton, at last, that he had hardly the means of +defraying the expenses of his wife's confinement, to say nothing of +the cost of housekeeping. He had drawn on Mr. Hancock for his salary +as fast as it became due, and instead of having, as he supposed, a +considerable balance in that gentleman's hands, he was actually some +few dollars in debt to him. + +There was no use in any reproaches, and Mr. Merton made none, but +promised to see what he could do towards finding him employment. +Mr. Forester was very much obliged, and thought to himself that it +might not, after all, be a bad thing to have made up friends with his +wife's rich uncle. After two or three days, Mr. Merton held another +conversation with him, in the course of which he told him that he had +procured for him a situation as accountant and draughtsman in a large +foundry and machine-shop. The salary was liberal, but close attention +to business would be absolutely necessary, in order to retain the +place. He took the opportunity to press upon Mr. Forester's attention +the great advantage of keeping regular accounts, and being economical +of time as well as money. He thought the young gentleman might find +time to finish his law studies, and be prepared to enter into business +as a lawyer in the course of a year, promising him all the assistance +in his power, and Mr. Forester thanked him, and listened respectfully, +with some faint idea of following the advice. He went to work the next +day, with great vigor. + +At the end of a week's trial, his employer professed himself perfectly +satisfied, and engaged him for a year, at a salary which, care and +economy, would be sufficient to support them in comfort. With this +care removed from her mind, Abby began to improve rapidly, and in the +course of a few days was so much better that her aunt thought she might +venture to leave her to herself. + +"Suppose," said she to her husband, "that we go round the other way, +stop at Basswoods, and take Olive home with us. It will be so much +pleasanter than for her to come alone." + +Mr. Merton thought it an excellent idea, and, accordingly, as Olive was +sitting at the piano one evening after tea, she was surprised by the +sudden entrance of her uncle and aunt. + +At first she was frightened, thinking that Abby must be worse. But +a moment's thought reassured her, and she gave herself up to the +unexpected enjoyment. They had proposed to stay at the hotel, but Mrs. +Felton had abundance of room, as Isabella Lambert was at her sister's: +she was very urgent with them to remain, and Mrs. Merton finally +consented, after stipulating that she should make no difference in the +family arrangements. There was, indeed, no need of her doing so, for +Mrs. Felton's housekeeping was always carried on upon a very liberal +scale—so liberal, indeed, that Olive thought she could not make much by +her boarders. + +"Why, really, my love, you are delightfully situated here—are you not?" +said Mrs. Merton, as she surveyed Olive's comfortable room. "I had no +idea that you were in such luxurious quarters. I should think Mrs. +Felton might be a trifle wearisome sometimes, however." + +"One soon gets used to it," replied Olive, smiling. "I know exactly how +much importance to attach to her complaints, and in general mind them +no more than the rain on the windows. She is really very kind to me, +and I have no excuse for being dissatisfied or home-sick, except the +desire to see you all." + +"And Miss Felton—what a delightful person she is!" pursued Mrs. Merton. +"She is not pretty, but there is such a charming cheerfulness about her +face and voice that she really seems to bring the sunshine into the +room with her. If she only had a little more style, she would really +make a sensation in society. You must bring her home with you some +time, Olive, to make a visit. I should be quite delighted to have her, +and I think a little of the world would be a great advantage to her." + +"I am glad you like her," said Olive, feeling as though she did not +care to have Ruth improved in that way. "She is one of my most intimate +friends. I want you to see Mrs. Tower; she is very different from Ruth, +but equally excellent." + +"All in good time, my dear. I mean to see all your friends before I go, +and your school, too. How soon is it out?" + +"There is only one week more." + +"And then you have an examination, I suppose?" + +"No, aunt, I am thankful to say, we do not. We have a review-day +every fortnight, and the last two weeks of the term are spent in the +same way, but we have no public display, except in declamation and +compositions. The school is open to visitors at all times, and we +have a good many, especially on repetition-days. If you will come in +to-morrow, we shall be very glad to see you. I assure you I am proud of +my girls. But I want to hear all about Abby and the baby." + +Mrs. Merton was very ready to tell; and Abby's affairs, and Laura's +approaching marriage, occupied the evening. Olive was very much touched +at hearing of her uncle's kindness, and especially on learning what +neither Abby nor William yet knew, that he had defrayed the entire +expenses of her sister's confinement, besides leaving in Abby's hands a +sum sufficient to last till William should receive his first quarter's +salary. She could not help feeling some sympathy for what she supposed +must be William's mortification at being oblige to receive assistance +from one whom he had so deeply wronged, but she might have spared +herself the trouble. + +That talented young gentleman had early imbibed the idea that he was +created to amuse himself, and the rest of mankind to wait upon him. +From the exaltation of his fancied genius and refinement, he looked +calmly down upon those lower mortals, whose grovelling minds permitted +them to learn and labor truly to get their own living, in the state +of life to which God had called them. He had felt a little annoyed at +first, on discovering that Mr. Merton had left money with Abby, but the +feeling did not prevent him from spending seven or eight dollars of +it upon some new engravings which had struck his fancy, and which, he +assured Abby, were so cheap that it would have been really foolish not +to buy them. + +"Economy!" he said, when she remonstrated with him. "Oh! Yes, of +course, we must practise economy, but your uncle can not expect me +to deny myself all gratifications. I can not live without books and +pictures." + +"In what, then, do you propose to economize?" persisted Abby. + +"Oh! Why—in dress and housekeeping—any thing, in short, but +intellectual pleasures." + +Abby shook her head. "The housekeeping costs as little as it can, +William." + +"But could you not manage with a less expensive girl, my dear? I have +heard of servants getting only six shillings a week, and we give Katy +twelve!" + +"I do not like to part with Katy," replied Abby, her heart sinking +at the prospect of a new and cheap girl. "She has just learned to be +useful, and attends to baby so nicely." + +"Oh! Well, I only mentioned it. I thought, when it came to your own +case, you would not be so very desirous of saving. It is easy to be +economical of other people's enjoyments." + +Abby's pale face flushed, and the tears filled her eyes. + +"There, now, don't cry! I am sorry I said any thing, but you are so +cool in proposing your economy to me. But come, cheer up, my little +darling. I am coming to take you to ride presently." + +Abby cheered up, and was thankful for the prospect of a little fresh +air, for she was not able to walk out yet. But when the carriage came, +there was a new cause of annoyance. + +"Why do you wear that coarse blanket of a thing, my dear?" said +William, glancing disdainfully at the large woollen shawl Abby had put +on. "It makes you look like a servant." + +"I have no other," replied Abby, coloring. "My cloak is not warm +enough, and I can not wrap the baby in it." + +"Oh! Pray don't take the baby. She will be sure to cry, as they always +do when they ought not to, and besides, it will tire you to death. I +am sure your cloak is warm enough, my love," he continued, dexterously +removing the obnoxious shawl, and throwing it over the arm of the sofa. +"You do not know how mild and pleasant it is. Come, you are too bad to +make such a figure of yourself, when you know how much I like to have +you admired, and you are ten times prettier than ever." + +So Abby wore the cloak, returned home chilled through, and was very ill +next day, in consequence. Mr. Forester was very sorry, paid her every +attention, and to prevent the possibility of such an accident happening +again, went out and bought a new shawl, for which he paid thirty +dollars. + + +To return to Basswoods! Mrs. Merton was delighted with the place and +the people, and quite astonished to find so much refinement in a +country village. Mrs. Gregory made a little party for her: so did Mrs. +Gordon, and at both did Mrs. Merton win golden opinions from all sorts +of people, by her elegant appearance and charming manners. It was a +peculiarity of hers that every one with whom she conversed ten minutes, +felt as though he or she had received a personal favor. Some of Mrs. +Tucker's adherents, who had hitherto been rather unfriendly to Olive, +suddenly turned completely round, and were warm in their praises of her +and her relations. + +In short, Mrs. Merton's visit did a great deal of good, and Olive +enjoyed it extremely. She told her aunt she thought it would not do +to offer to pay Mrs. Felton for their board, and Mrs. Merton, after +considerable hesitation, consented to give up the idea, thinking that +she could make it up in some other way. Accordingly, she afterwards +sent Mrs. Felton a beautiful dress and shawl, with an elegant letter, +which Mrs. Felton showed to all the village, thanking her for all her +kindness to her niece, and requesting her to accept the accompanying +articles from herself and her husband, as a testimonial of her +gratitude. + +A proud and happy woman was Mrs. Felton. Ruth was pleased with the +delicacy of the attention to her mother, and Mr. Felton, whose +conversation was usually summed up in a semidiurnal report of the state +of the weather, gave vent to the profound and original idea, that in +point of fact, some people were very different from other people. + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. + +MRS. DIMSDEN'S summer campaign at Newport and Saratoga had been +successful, almost beyond her highest hopes. Laura was going to be +married to a man of wealth and position fully equal to her uncle +Merton's—a man who had been an object with speculating young ladies and +their mammas for several years. Attracted by Miss Dimsden's magnificent +beauty, he had followed the ladies from Cape May to Newport, from +Newport to the White Mountains, and from thence to Saratoga, where he +finally surrendered at discretion. + +It was a singular circumstance that no sooner was it known that Mr. +Witherington was engaged to the young and beautiful Miss Dimsden, than +all these same speculating young ladies and their speculating mammas +were at once filled with pity and sympathy for the poor girl, thus +remorselessly sacrificed by her heartless aunt, and with contempt for +the weak-minded suitor, caught by a girl without principle and without +fortune. + +Olive had made anxious inquiries of Mrs. Merton concerning her future +brother-in-law. + +"It is an excellent match, my dear, in all the generally received +senses of that much abused word. Mr. Witherington is a man of good +manners, excellent principles, and a large fortune. He has a fine house +in town, and a fine house in the country, and all that; and moreover, +he is desperately in love with Laura." + +"Then I do not see, aunt, but that Laura's chances for happiness are +excellent." + +"If you will excuse my saying so, Olive, I think her chances are better +than his." Olive looked at her inquiringly. "You know I am not romantic +in the least," continued Mrs. Merton, "but then I have rather peculiar +notions. I do not think a woman has any right to marry a man unless she +honestly prefers him to all the rest of the world." + +"And you think, aunt, that Laura does not—" + +"I think she is almost indifferent, my dear. Begging your pardon for +speaking so freely of your sister, I do not think she has depth of +character enough to appreciate a man like Mr. Witherington. He is an +earnest, grave person—what I call a weighty man, and I fear he will be +disappointed in his wife. Of course, he can see no fault in her now." + +"But it seems rather strange," said Olive, after a little silence, +"that Laura should not like such a man." + +"She does like him, my child, but she does not love him, and no one +should know better than you that there is all the difference in the +world between loving and liking." + +"I suppose aunt Dimsden is delighted." + +"Oh! Of course; you know what her ideas of marriage are. But don't +attach too much importance to what I say, my love," added Mrs. Merton +kindly. "Perhaps when you see them together, you may think I am +entirely mistaken." + +"And how is Laura?" asked Olive. + +"She is splendid—really magnificent! I never knew that she was half so +beautiful, and she has a subdued, gentle manner, which is very becoming +to her. And now, while I think of it, Mrs. Dimsden is bent upon having +a grand display—a reception, and all that, and of course you and +Charlotte must be dressed to correspond. Now what I want to stipulate +is that you shall permit us to provide your dress and ornaments. I know +you like to be independent, my dear, but you must really allow us this +pleasure. You will have ways enough to dispose of your earnings by and +by." + +Olive accepted the kindness, and felt very grateful for it. She knew +her aunt wanted her to be dressed like Charlotte upon all occasions, an +expenditure which, now that she was dependent upon her own resources, +and had such a strong motive for saving, she felt that she could not +well afford, and she appreciated the delicacy which thus granted a +favor on pretense of asking one. + +They arrived at home early in the evening, and Olive was hardly dressed +before the Black Prince announced Mr. Witherington and Miss Dimsden. + +Laura was certainly more dazzling than ever, and Olive could not wonder +at her lover for looking at her constantly, even while talking to other +people. She was very much pleased with Mr. Witherington. He did not +talk much, and was evidently full of serious thought, but what said was +frank, manly, and to the purpose. She thought he winced a good deal +under Mrs. Dimsden's genteel vulgarisms, and she admired the adroit way +in which Laura often contrived to turn the conversation, or to divert +her lover's attention to herself. + +The evening passed before she could satisfy herself as to whether her +aunt was right in her ideas about the depth of Laura's attachment. + + +The next day she spent the whole morning in her sister's apartment, +admiring and commenting upon the bridal finery which Laura displayed +for her inspection. Every thing was of the best and handsomest, and +Olive gave her aunt credit for greater liberality than she had thought +belonged to her. Laura told her how many presents she had had. + +"These two boxes of hankerchiefs Charlotte gave me. See what beauties +they are, all marked with my name so ingeniously. Aunt Merton gave me +this set of cameos. Don't they look just like her, so quietly elegant? +Besides, she and uncle together gave me the tea and coffee-set that you +will see by and by. They are much handsomer than Jane Lewis's were. +Mrs. Schuyler gave me the fruit and cake-knives, and Louisa a beautiful +little pitcher. The Jenners sent me the egg-cups lined with gold, and +Mrs. John Jenner a beautiful basket, etc., etc. Now confess, Olive, is +it not worth while to be married, to have such beautiful things given +to one?" + +"I am afraid I never took that into the calculation," said Olive, +good-naturedly. + +"No, I dare say not, but you and I are very different, you know. Now +only think, if you had only been guided by aunt Dimsden, you might have +married a rich man, too, instead of a poor minister. Not," she added +hastily, "that Mr. Witherington's money is the only good thing about +him." + +"I should think his money was the least recommendation," said Olive. +"He appears to me to be a very earnest, excellent man. I only hope you +love him as he deserves." + +Laura laughed and then sighed. "Why, to tell you the simple truth, +Olive, I don't think it is in me to 'fall in love,' as people call +it, with any body. I esteem Mr. Witherington highly, and I have a +very great respect for him. I think that is a great deal more sure +foundation than such a violent passion, don't you?" + +Olive shook her head. "'Love,' honor, and obey, Laura!" + +"Oh! Well, of course, yes. But there is another thing, Olive—do you +think that obey is to be rendered literally, or is it just put in to +fill out the line?" + +"I think of it in this way, Laura. A man ought to be head of his own +house, and when there is a decided difference of opinion, the wife +ought to give up. I must say I do not believe in a woman's humoring a +man in all his whims and caprices, as Abby does with William. It is not +good for her, and certainly it is very bad for him." + +"But, now for instance, to take something that you know all about, +there was Janet Forster. She married Mr. Heyling, you know, when she +was so very poor, and he not only took care of her, but of all her +relatives. Then she was seized with a poetical mania, and wanted to +publish her poems. He was a very proud man, and it disturbed him +dreadfully to think his wife should write for money. He could not bear +to have her publish the volume, but she persisted. It came out in spite +of him, and she got the pay for it, whatever it was. What do you think +of that?" + +"I never knew exactly the truth of the matter before," said Olive, +"though I knew that poor Mr. Heyling was very unhappy. I must say, +I think she did very wrong. Supposing that it was a foolish pride, +which I will not deny, she was under the greatest obligations to him, +not only for herself, but for her family. The poems were not so very +splendid that the world would have suffered any great loss from their +suppression." + +"I don't think he objected so much to her publishing as to her writing +for money." + +"Then she ought not to have written for money. What did a few hundred +dollars, more or less, matter, compared to her husband's annoyance?" + +"I always thought she was wrong," remarked Laura. "If I were going +to differ from my husband, at least I would do it in a delicate way, +and not make it a subject of town gossip. But I don't believe Mr. +Witherington will try to govern me much." + +"I rather hope he will," said Olive, smiling. "He does not seem at +all like a man who would be tyrannical or capricious, and a little +reasonable government will do you no harm." + +Laura laughed heartily at the idea. "Really, Olive, you are very good. +Don't look grave, my dear, I mean to be quite a pattern wife, I assure +you, and shall preside over my husband's establishment with all the +dignity and grace imaginable. I mean to make him very happy, and never +contradict him unless we differ in opinion. But come down-stairs—I want +to show you my presents." + +The presents were magnificent. Laura had their cost all by heart, and +went over it all with a readiness which would have done credit to a +jeweller's' clerk. + +"What a quantity of silver you have!" remarked Olive. "If you should +ever become reduced in circumstances, you might set up a shop, and +stock it with your bridal presents. Let me see—here are one, two, +three, six butter-knives, all marked with your name, and how many +fruit-knives?" + +"Two complete sets, besides three odd ones. That is the trouble—one +gets so many things just alike. I have four or five cream-spoons, and +three sugar-sifters, and so with other things." + +"I shall be quite afraid to put my simple presents by the side of all +these grand things, Laura. I have not felt as if I could spend much +money, and my plain white Parian ware will look out of place beside all +these grand things, I am afraid." + +"No, indeed," replied Laura, with more earnestness than she usually +manifested. "If you had given me nothing more than a sheet of paper, +Olive, I should think more of it than of all these fine things that +people give me to display their own liberality, and get themselves +talked about." + +"You don't seem to have a very high opinion of your friends," remarked +Olive. + +"Of course that does not apply to all of them," returned Laura. "Some +of these were given by dear friends, and these I really value. The +things uncle and aunt Merton have given me, for instance, and Mrs. +Schuyler's presents, because she was a friend of mother's, you know, +and the Jenners, because I always loved them. But there is Maria +Lewis, she never liked me, though she wanted me to marry Sam. And +after I refused him, she hated me, I know—yet she sends me this superb +"odeur"-box, just that she might see it on the table, with her name +attached to it." + +"I should hardly want to accept presents upon such terms, I think," +said Olive. + +"Oh! The things are just as pretty and convenient, you know, as if they +liked me ever so much. But tell me, Olive, and pray don't think I ask +because I am dissatisfied, or any such thing—why can not you afford to +spend as much money as you want? I am sure you have some good reason." + +"My reason is Abby, Laura. I feel as if the time would come when she +will need all that I can do for her. William is not getting on at all +in business, and is not likely to. He is very extravagant besides." + +"I am very sorry to hear it. I hoped they were doing pretty well. +Perhaps I shall be able to help them." + +"If you can do it by denying yourself, and curtailing your own +expenses, my dear Laura, I shall be very glad. But pray do not ask Mr. +Witherington to do any thing for them." + +"What a queer girl you are! Why not?" + +Olive thought if the "why not" did not present itself, there was no use +in arguing the point any farther. + +"I hope, at any rate, Laura, if your husband approves, you will go and +see Abby, or at least write to her." + +"I have done that already," said Laura. "I told aunt I would not +be married at all unless she would let me ask Abby to the wedding. +She made a great fuss at first, and threatened to appeal to Mr. +Witherington, so I saved her the trouble by appealing to him myself. +Then she was frightened, for he is so very precise and particular in +his ideas, and she thought the match might be off." + +"What did he say?" asked Olive, very much interested. + +"He praised me very much in the first place, for telling him every +thing. Then he asked very particularly about the affair, and aunt told +him, only she made it a great deal worse than it was. You would have +thought Abby had behaved more shamefully than any one ever did in the +world. I could not help putting in a word now and then, and finally he +said I might have my own way in the matter. Aunt was very angry, but +she dared not show it to him, you know. So I wrote to her day before +yesterday. I do wonder if she will come?" + +"I am rather afraid not, Laura. Abby has more on her hands than you +have any idea of. She wrote to me that she had changed girls lately, +and she has not learned to keep house so but that it takes all her +time. Moreover, I do not think William will spare her, and I am very +certain he will not come himself." + +Laura sighed. + +"I am very sorry for her, I am sure. It seems a great pity—so pretty +and well-educated as she is. She ought to be enjoying herself in +society, instead of being burdened with a house and a baby at her age. +Only think, she is only eighteen now! I do think girls lose a great +deal by marrying so young, Olive, even if they marry well." + +"I think so, too, Laura. But I must go home, or aunt will miss me at +luncheon-time. I shall see you again to-morrow, and arrange about every +thing." + +Olive felt rather sadly as she walked homeward. She did not think +Laura was doing right, and she feared that Mr. Witherington would be +disappointed in her. He seemed an earnest, thoughtful man, who would +need something more in a wife beside beauty and fine manners. And, +fond as she was of her, she could not conceal from herself that Laura +had no depth, either of character or principle. She clearly married +Mr. Witherington, not because she loved him, but because he was an +excellent match, and could give her at once that wealth and position +which she had been educated to regard as the chief end of existence. + +For a time, her husband's eyes might be blinded by her beauty and his +own passion, but Olive felt as though he must find out the deficiencies +in his wife after a while, and be made very unhappy by the discovery. +There was nothing for it, however, but to hope that a man of so much +depth of character might influence Laura, and lead her to higher +things. At present, all the energies of herself and her aunt seemed +concentrated on the desire that the wedding should eclipse every thing +of the kind ever seen in M. before. Aunt Merton, though she disapproved +of gay weddings, as a matter of taste, lent her efficient aid to +gratify them, and devoted more time and attention to the affair than +she had ever done to any party of her own. + +Abby could not come. She wrote that Katy had left her, and the girl she +had was not very efficient, baby was troublesome, she was not strong +herself, and, on the whole, she thought it would be better not to +make the attempt. She sent her love and good wishes, and a beautiful +handkerchief; embroidered by her own hands, as a present for Laura. +Olive was glad that Laura persisted in carrying this handkerchief on +her wedding-day, instead of the more splendid Honiton-bordered one +which Mrs. Dimsden had provided. + +They talked over the letter together, and agreed that it was very sad, +despite the evident effort to make it cheerful. Abby was clearly very +home-sick, and very much depressed, though she said not a word of any +new trouble, except her change of girls, and that baby was troublesome. +She had made acquaintance with the rector of the nearest church and his +wife, who were very kind to her, but she could not get to church very +often. Mrs. Granger came to see her sometimes, and was very good to +her. Such was the substance of her letter. + + +The eventful day arrived. Olive's dress was perfect, and aunt Rebecca, +as she clasped the last bracelet—part of a beautiful set of ornaments +presented by her brother-in-law, pronounced that she had never looked +so well in her life. And, as Olive looked in the glass, she thought +so, too, and wished that Walter were there to see her. Mrs. Merton did +honor to the occasion by a superb new dress, and her most magnificent +display of diamonds—rather a remarkable thing for her, as she did not +usually trouble herself to dress much. Charlotte was attired exactly +like Olive, and looked very queenly and amiable. + +"Olive," said she, as they were waiting for the carriage to convey them +to Mrs. Dimsden's, "how should you like all this fuss, if you were +going to be married yourself?" + +"I am afraid I should think it a very great bore," answered her cousin. + +"To be obliged to fix one's attention on ribbons, and lace, and +petticoats, at such a time, when all one's thoughts should be +concentrated upon better things," continued Charlotte, "to be obliged +to listen to flat compliments and foolish speeches at such a time, I +think it would be dreadfully tiresome." + +"People feel very differently about such things," observed Olive. +"A wedding always seems to me among the most solemn of religious +ceremonies, and a gay party seems about as appropriate on such an +occasion, as it would at a christening or a confirmation. It is taking +so much upon one's self. It makes such an entire change in all one's +circumstances and duties—such a responsibility." + +"I almost wonder you have the courage to attempt it, Olive. You have +such high ideas upon the subject. Do you think you will ever be able to +live up to your own notions of the duties of a wife?" + +"Probably not, as I never yet lived up to my own standard of duty in +any thing. But I shall do my best, and I hope I shall not be left to +myself. Then Walter and I agree perfectly in all important matters, +which will be a great help." + +"I have no doubt you will get on nicely," said Charlotte. "You are the +only pair of lovers I ever saw who seemed to me to be in the faintest +degree rational, or in fact endurable. I used to think people in that +condition must act like fools, as a matter of course." + +"Carriage waiting, young ladies," announced the Black Prince, himself +"en grande tenue," as expecting to bear a conspicuous part. + +Wrappers and hoods were donned, under the direction of Mammy, who gave +a last touch to the drapery, and a last charge to her young ladies not +to get cold as they came out of church. + +They found Laura ready dressed, and looking very splendidly in her +white "moire antique" and beautiful veil. Pearls, gloves, bouquet, +wreath, were all in the finest taste. Mrs. Dimsden, in a splendid satin +dress and a wonderful cap, was walking round and round her, adding a +touch here, and a pin there, now adjusting a fold of her veil, and then +giving a pull to the skirt. + +Mr. Witherington was grave, and apparently a little embarrassed. +Olive thought he felt himself rather oppressed by the weight of his +aunt-in-law. He certainly did not look as if he enjoyed the bustle very +much, though he brightened up wonderfully when his beautiful bride +appeared, and looked very happy. + +Laura's feelings did not at all interfere with her self-possession. +She very evidently thought more of her dress than of any thing else. +She showed no sign of timidity when they found the church crowded with +people, and the street outside filled with gazers, and was not half as +much embarrassed as Mr. Witherington. His voice trembled very much in +making the responses, but she was as cool as though going through an +ordinary school recitation. + +Every one said so beautiful a bride had never been seen in the church +before. Mr. Merton gave her away, Olive held the glove, and every thing +passed off well. + +There were three quarters of an hour to spare before the company began +to arrive, and Mr. Witherington seemed as if he would gladly have had +his wife to himself for a few minutes, but he was made to understand +that it was quite out of the question. Laura must have some changes +made in her dress, and she must give her opinion with regard to the +table and the refreshment-room. Mr. Witherington felt himself decidedly +in the way, but comforted himself with the idea that it would soon be +over, and then he could enjoy his dear Laura's society in peace. He had +yet to learn that his dear Laura was in her element amidst such scenes, +and found a quiet day at home the most stupid thing possible. + +The presents were all ticketed, as Charlotte had said, and arranged +on the table so as to show to the best advantage, Abby's handkerchief +occupying a conspicuous place among the more splendid gifts. The +circle was duly formed, and every thing arranged for the grand parade, +before the first carriage, rattling to the door, announced the first +installment of the dear two hundred friends to whom Mrs. Dimsden had +sent cards. + +Olive found the whole thing desperately stupid. It was very tiresome to +stand two hours in a graceful attitude, and reply to the inane speeches +addressed to her by the young gentlemen who came to pay their respects +to Mr. Witherington. She felt vexed at Laura for her evident enjoyment +of the affair—vexed at Mrs. Dimsden for her parade of the presents +and dresses, and so forth, sorry for Mr. Witherington, who looked +uncomfortable and out of place, and provoked at herself for feeling +like crying all the time. + +Mrs. Merton shone superior, doing the gracious to all the rather out +of the way people, being in every place where she was most wanted, and +making every one say, "What a splendid woman Mrs. Charles Merton is!" +And many people added—"So different from Mrs. Dimsden!" + +The supper was very splendid, the Black Prince in his glory—a glory of +manners and dress, of gloves and white favors. He had a brother, second +only to himself in splendor, who was always under Edward's orders upon +such occasions. + +Mrs. Dimsden was rather nervous at first, but Mrs. Merton whispered, +"Don't be disturbed, my dear Alicia! Leave every thing to Edward and +Mammy—I always do." + +"My dear Alicia!" Mrs. Dimsden felt two inches taller, and was quite +happy for the remainder of the evening. Every thing was of the best. +The brilliant pyramids stood up straight. The ice-cream doves, and +nymphs, and temples, kept their shape, and the oysters and salads were +perfect. + +Major Trimble expressed to divers and sundry people the original +opinion that Mrs. Dimsden was quite a "Palladium" of a housekeeper, and +that Mrs. Witherington was quite dazzling, but added confidentially his +opinion that it was a pity she should be sacrificed to such a dull old +sort of a man as Mr. Witherington seemed to be. + +Well—it was all over at last. The guests departed, the bridesmaids +returned home, and sat down by the fire to rest and talk the matter +over. + +"Was not Laura magnificent?" was the first exclamation, but "How +uncomfortable poor Mr. Witherington looked!" the next. + +"He seemed to feel himself so much out of place," said Olive, "but I do +not think any the worse of him for it." + +"Nor I," replied Mrs. Merton. "I think he looked thoughtful and +earnest, as a man should on his wedding-day. I hope, Olive," she +continued, as she unclasped her bracelets and pulled off her gloves, +"that you have no desire to have a grand wedding. A wedding-party two +or three weeks afterward is not so bad, but really, people ought to +want to be by themselves at such times." + +Olive raised her hands in horror. + +"I think I see myself," she said, "paraded out for three mortal hours, +to be looked at and criticised by every one that chose to look at me, +and go home and talk about me afterward. But, after all, every thing +passed off nicely—did it not? And how well aunt Dimsden looked—only +aunt Rebecca eclipsed her." + +"Did I?" said Mrs. Merton. "I am very sorry for that. I dressed more +than usual, thinking Alicia would like it." + +"And so she did," said Charlotte, "especially when you called her dear +Alicia. I was afraid she would spoil it all by being fussy. How well +the Black Prince appeared! I think, mother, it would be a grand thing +for Edward and George to let themselves out, to do manners at the +expensive people's parties. Just think what an advantage it would be to +them!" + +"Hush!" said Olive. "And don't be scandalizing your neighbors. Well, +it has all gone off nicely, and aunt Dimsden has gained her point +with Laura, as with all the rest, and given her a rich husband and a +splendid wedding." + +"I wonder who she will take in hand next," said Mrs. Merton. "After +all, my dears, it is much better to pass over Mrs. Dimsden's weak +points, and dwell upon her good ones. She has been very kind to Laura, +and has acted for the best, according to her ideas. And now I must +insist upon your going to bed at once. We shall have plenty of calls +to-morrow, and I want you to look your best. You need not laugh, +Olive. It is no reason that because you are engaged, you should not +do yourself credit. Your lover will not think the less of you because +other people admire you." + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. + +POOR Abby! The girls had guessed rightly in thinking that she was very +home-sick, and very much depressed. She did not grow strong, as she had +hoped to do, and was able to go out but little. Her baby was a great +care—enough to have used up all her strength, if she had had nothing +else to do. And to crown her grievances, she lost Katy just as her +services began to be very valuable. + +Katy was very sorry, indeed, to leave, but she could not go on from +month to month without having any wages. She did not like to speak to +Mrs. Forester, who was so delicate and so good to her, and so one day, +when the lady was out, she broached the matter to the gentleman, of +whom, notwithstanding his grand air, she was not half so much afraid +as of his wife. He treated the matter negligently enough at first, +assuring her, in a careless way, that she should be paid by and by. +Katy grew bolder and insisted that she could not live without clothes. +Whereupon, Mr. Forester waxed angry, and ordered her to leave the house +at once. + +When Mrs. Forester came home from a shopping excursion, wearied almost +to death, she was struck with consternation to find Katy packing up her +goods and crying bitterly, and to hear that Mr. Forester had told her +to go straight off, and never come near the house again. Abby could +have cried herself upon the spot, but painful experience had taught +her to restrain her tears. She felt what an ungrateful return it was +for all Katy's faithful and unrewarded services, and looked forward +with dread to the amount of work that would be thrown upon her hands, +already so burdened. She would have tried to soothe Katy—to prevail +upon her to stay, at least till some one could be found to supply her +place, but William, who overheard her, put a stop to her endeavors, in +a way which he considered very magnificent. + +"I have desired Katy to go at once! She has been very insolent to me, +and I will have no one under my roof who does not treat me with proper +respect." + +"I want my wages!" said Katy, changing her tone at once from the +tearful to the defiant, as the gentleman appeared upon the scene. "You +owe me thirty-five dollars, and I want it before I leave the house." + +"I should like to see you get it," replied Mr. Forester, turning away. +"If you had asked me properly, I would have given it to you at once. +But now you shall wait my pleasure." + +"You call yourself a gentleman—do you?" began Katy, her blood +thoroughly up. + +But he had disappeared, and Abby said, almost imploringly: + +"Hush! Hush, Katy! I am sure you would not say any thing to grieve +me. You shall be paid, I promise you." And she took out her purse, +containing the remainder of her uncle's gift, which she had been saving +against any emergency. She had only twenty dollars. + +"There is all I have at present, but you shall have the rest, I promise +you." + +Katy melted into tears once more. "Indeed, Mrs. Forester, I would not +have said any thing, but I am clean out of clothes, and I must pay my +little brother's board, you know. Any way, I shall always think well of +you and the dear baby." + +Mr. Forester thought, for a while, he had done a grand thing, and shown +a great deal of firmness and decision. But he began to be not quite +so sure of it, when he saw how hard it was for Abby to prepare tea +and wash up the dishes, and how tired she seemed after it. He fully +intended to get up the next morning and make up the fires, but baby was +restless, and kept them both awake, and when he first roused himself, +he really was too sleepy to get up. A cry from the little one at last +roused him to the consciousness that Abby was down-stairs. And when he +descended, he found breakfast nearly ready. + +In reply to his remonstrances, his wife only pointed to the clock, +which was fast approaching to eight, the hour when it was absolutely +necessary for him to be at the office. + +Mr. Forester was very sorry, and a little vexed. He swallowed his +breakfast, not without a remark that the cakes were not as light as +usual, and was hunting for his hat and gloves, when Abby said: "Can't +you bring in some wood before you go? It is so hard to carry it up the +steps." + +"I really don't see how I can, my love. Mr. Hitchcock is so very +particular about my being there just to the minute. I will send you up +a boy as I go along." + +The boy did not come, however, and Abby had every thing to do herself. +Hard work it was to get the breakfast things out of the way, wash and +dress little Emma, and prepare the dinner before one o'clock, and, +after all, William did not come home till a late tea-time. + +"I had an invitation to dine at the Irving, and I thought it would save +you some trouble," was his excuse. + +"It might have done if I had known it beforehand," said Abby. "As it +was, it did not make much difference." + +"Come, come, my love, don't be cross. You know I have to work hard all +day, and when I come home, I like to shake off my annoyances, and have +a cheerful, smiling face to meet me. There is a letter for you." + +Abby took it eagerly, and the color flushed to her pale face more +brightly than usual, as she looked it over. + +"It is from Laura," she said. "She wants me to come out to the wedding. +Oh! How I do wish I could go. I would give any thing to see M. again." + +Mr. Forester looked rather blank. "I suppose they do not include me in +the invitation." + +"Of course they do. Laura would know better than to leave you out, if +she wanted me. But don't you think I might manage it some how? I do +want to go so much." + +"I do not see how," replied William, rather peevishly. "What would +become of the house in the mean time?" + +"We might shut it up that long." + +"And then, what is to become of me, for I assure you it is utterly out +of the question for me to dream of going, even if I wanted to. I put up +with Mrs. Merton here for your sake, but it is quite too much to think +of my going there." + +"Could you not manage for a few days?" faltered Abby, her heart +sinking, yet unwilling to give up at once the pleasure of being present +at her sister's wedding. "I need not go till Wednesday, and I could get +the new girl into tolerable training by that time." + +"Oh! Yes—if you are set upon going, I suppose I can manage to exist, +though—but, of course, that is no matter. But there is another thing +that does matter, and that is—how are you going to get the money +necessary to such an expedition?" + +"I don't know about that; it will not cost a great deal." + +"Have you any of your reserved fund left?" + +"Only two or three dollars. I had to take it to pay Katy with." + +"So you paid Katy, did you?" said Mr. Forester, laying down his paper, +and looking at his wife. "I thought you heard me tell her that I would +pay her at my leisure." + +"They are so poor," faltered Abby, "and Katy has been so faithful." + +"Upon my word, Mrs. Forester, this is rather too much! I have borne +with your humors and whims a long time, on account of your health, and +endeavored to bring you to reason by gentleness, and when I came home +to-night, wearied out with business, and expecting to find, as I had a +right, a pleasant home and a cheerful wife to receive and welcome me, I +was not disposed to find any fault, though things were the very reverse +of this. But for you to set me at defiance in this way is rather too +much. I said I would pay that insolent servant at my leisure, and you +fly in the face of my authority, and pay her yourself, contrary to my +express orders, and then expect me to supply you with money for an +expensive journey. As to your going, I say nothing about that. You can +go if can supply the means, and I will exist as I can till you come +back. But I beg you to understand, once for all, that I will be master +in my own house." + +Abby sat like a statue through the whole of this reasonable harangue. +She did not even lift her eyes when her husband rose to leave her, +but as he opened the door, she gasped out—"Don't—don't go," and knew +no more till she found herself lying upon the sofa, with a neighbor +attending upon her, while her husband was walking distractedly up and +down the room, getting in the way of every thing that was done for her +relief. She tried to speak, but Mrs. Gray checked her. + +"Now, don't you speak one word, Mrs. Forester, but just lie still, and +I'll attend to every thing. Don't you think you had better see the +doctor?" + +"Oh! No!" whispered Abby, thinking with terror of the already long +bill. "It's nothing but a little fatigue. Katy went away yesterday, and +I have rather over-worked myself to-day. I shall be better presently." + +Mr. Forester felt a pang go to his selfish heart, as he heard his +suffering wife thus trying to divert the blame from himself. + +"Come, Abby, cheer up, my dear," he said, approaching her. "You will +know better than to work so hard next time, and your new girl has come." + +Then as Mrs. Gray left the room, he added: "I am sorry you took +my words so much to heart, but you must learn to control yourself +a little. You are very much of a child, and need a great deal +of guidance. But how are you ever to improve, if you go into a +fainting-fit every time that any one intimates you are in the wrong?" + +Abby put up her hands imploringly, but having once begun to be +dignified, Mr. Forester felt like carrying it through. He kissed her +rather coolly, and then added, by way of finishing the business: + +"There, there, I forgive you, and will try to forget it, but you must +remember that the continuance of my love depends upon your conduct, and +not upon my own will. I hope we shall have no more such scenes as this +of to-night, for it is very unpleasant for me to be obliged to reprove +you, and I can not in conscience allow such things to pass unnoticed." + +With this magnificent declaration, Mr. Forester dropped the subject, +and sat down to read to his wife, by way of showing his magnanimity, +a book which she did not care a straw for, and did not understand. He +really felt very much injured, and thought he had conferred a great +favor upon his erring wife by not giving way to her ill-temper. + +And poor Abby tried to think she had been very wrong and selfish in +wishing to leave her husband alone, to go to her sister's wedding, and +that he had shown a great deal of forbearance toward her faults. For +paying Katy she could not be sorry. But in spite of herself a verse +from the last chapter she had read would keep running through her head: +"Ye shall be ashamed for the oats that ye have desired, and confounded +for the gardens that ye have chosen." + +Kind Mrs. Gray came over the next morning, early enough to prevent her +from getting up till after breakfast. It was she who directed the new +girl, put the parlor in order, and dressed the baby. She was a plain +woman, but very kindly and very sensible, and during the whole week, +while Abby remained unwell, she was the greatest possible assistance +and comfort to her. + +Mr. Forester grumbled a little at finding that "meddling woman always +there," but he was very civil to her, nevertheless. As the time went +on, he began to have a lurking, unacknowledged suspicion, that he had +not been so very magnificent after all—that it was he who had been +borne with, and not Abby. As he looked at her slight figure and almost +transparent hands, and noticed how her color flushed and faded, and how +fast her breath went and came under any little excitement, an undefined +feeling of fear came over him, that made him very kind, and somewhat +checked his propensities to self-indulgence. + +We say somewhat, for when a man has grown up from infancy with the idea +that because he is talented, and does not like to work, all the rest of +the world is bound to wait upon, work for, and give up to him, nothing +but an absolutely crushing blow will drive it out of him. Sometimes +stroke upon stroke, mortification upon mortification, defeat upon +defeat, makes him know himself to be but man, and brings him to the +feet of God in repentance and self-abasement, and then there is hope. +But quite as often such persons go down to their graves with the idea +that they are martyrs to their own superiority, and that all the world +is leagued against them. + +The new girl turned out better than Abby had feared. True she did not +and could not fill Katy's place. That was not to be expected, at the +wages she received. But she was neat, good-natured, very strong, and +able to do all the drudgery of the little household. She was fond of +the baby, and took her off Abby's hands for several hours in the day, +leaving her at liberty to sew, and sometimes to practise a little. Abby +had for some time had an idea of taking pupils in music, almost the +only thing she felt herself really competent to teach, and after some +little hesitation she proposed the plan to her husband. + +Mr. Forester laughed at first, then doubted whether it would be best, +and then consented, on condition that they should come to the house +while he was away, as he never could endure the noise of beginners +practising. "I don't see how you can endure the thought of it. But I +dare say you are lonely when I am gone. You have no taste for art, and +not much for general literature, and it is natural you should like some +amusement." + +Thus graciously did Mr. Forester grant to his wife permission to +spend some portion of her small remaining strength in laboring for +his support. But his manner was kind and affectionate, and Abby was +satisfied. The next point was to obtain pupils, and here she was +successful beyond her hopes. Good Mrs. Gray interested herself in the +matter, and soon procured for her six little girls, all beginners. Thus +twelve times a week did Abby, with her exquisite ear and high musical +culture, labor through the never-ending, still beginning scales and +exercises. But she fixed her mind resolutely upon the twelve dollars a +piece which was to be the reward of her labors and perseverance. + +By and by two young ladies wishing to learn singing were added to +the number. They were nice girls, and frequently brought presents of +flowers and fruit to their gentle little mistress. But sometimes, when +Abby found herself gasping for breath, and almost unable to articulate, +after their lessons, she felt a vague misgiving that she was purchasing +the additional thirty dollars of income pretty dearly. The little +girls, however, progressed nobly, their parents were satisfied, as well +they might be at getting for twelve dollars what ought to have cost +them sixteen. + +Baby was very good, and beginning to be playful and amusing. And upon +the whole, Abby was rather happy than otherwise. She said nothing in +her letters home of her being engaged in teaching, but merely offered +as an excuse for not writing oftener that her time was very much +occupied. + +Laura had intended to make her a visit on her return from her +bridal-tour, but Mr. Witherington's business called him unexpectedly, +and she was obliged to give it up, writing a very kind and earnest +invitation for Abby to come and visit them. Abby was glad of the +letter, though she knew very well she should never be able to go. But +she was pleased to think that in the midst of all the bridal gayety of +her new home, Laura had remembered and cared for her, and she prayed +earnestly that her sister might be happy. + +For in the midst of all her troubles, Abby had found this great +comfort—she had learned to pray. She had been in a manner religiously +brought up, and had always said her prayers, night and morning, ever +since she could remember. But it was only in the dreary time before +little Emma was born that she had learned to know the full meaning of +the words "communion with God." Then she had really drawn near the +throne—she had sat down in the shadow of that great rock, and the weary +land became not quite so weary. Water out of the pure river of life had +satisfied her thirst, and in her saddest hours, she found comfort in +the thought that we have not a High-Priest who can not be touched with +the feelings of our infirmities, but who, in that He suffered being +tempted, is able to succor them that are tempted. + +When she could have Bridget to take care of Emma, Sunday morning or +evening was a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. The +word of God was as rain upon the mown grass to her, and she brought +home a supply of strength for a long time, from every communion season. +Mr. Forester could not understand it. He thought the singing far from +good, the preaching dry, and the church very bare and barn-like, but +he saw that Abby enjoyed it, and he felt that there was something +essentially beautiful in the idea of a young mother's being religious, +and even went so far as to go himself sometimes. Moreover, he made a +sketch of Abby herself kneeling before a statue of the Virgin, and +teaching her child to clasp its little hands in the attitude of prayer, +which was very much admired in the shop where it was sent to be framed. + +For a time he had gone on very well in the employment which Mr. +Merton had procured for him. The work was not hard, and part of it +was of a kind in which he might be supposed to take some pleasure, +namely, the drawing of designs for ornamental iron work. But after a +time, it became very irksome to him. His employers desired that his +designs should be such as they could make a profit on, and insisted +on his altering some of his favorite pictures, for the frivolous and +insufficient reason that it was quite impossible to carry them out in +practice. + +Moreover, they made it a point that he should be upon the spot in +business hours, and that his designs should be ready when they +were wanted, not being disposed to make much allowance for the +eccentricities of genius. More than once they had been on the very +verge of a rupture, but Mr. Hitchcock, the managing partner, had seen +Abby, and was much interested in her. And for her sake, he exercised +more patience toward Mr. Forester than he had ever been known to +exhibit before. + +But one day matters came suddenly to a crisis. An important design +which Mr. Forester had undertaken to finish for a particular day, was +not forthcoming, and the workmen were at a stand for want of it. Mr. +Forester had not come in, and Mr. Hitchcock began a search for the +missing pattern among the heaps of paper which covered his desk. In the +course of which, he came across quantities of fancy sketches, mostly +unfinished, among which was the first rude draught of Abby's portrait, +quantities of verses and translations, also mostly unfinished, bits +of crayon and pencil innumerable, but no pattern. He had not quite +finished his search, when Mr. Forester made his appearance, and upon +being questioned, frankly confessed that the design was not finished, +or even begun. He had not felt in the humor for the last two or three +days, and was trying to refresh his mind a little. + +Mr. Hitchcock was very angry. Not only was a large pecuniary +consideration at stake, but what he valued still more, the honor of +the firm, which had always held the highest reputation for punctuality +in the fulfillment of contracts. In a few words, chosen more for +their strength than their elegance, he set before Mr. Forester the +consequences of his remissness, not only to the firm, but to himself, +delivered a short lecture upon idleness, and finished by saying that +in his opinion Mr. Forester would be doing much more for his wife and +child in working for them than in making pictures of them in such +heathenish attitudes as that—holding up the unfinished picture as he +spoke, and glancing from it to the artist with stern contempt. + +Mr. Forester waited to hear no more. + +He put on his hat, collected his papers and drawing materials, made a +low bow, and walked out of the shop without a word. + +Abby was engaged with one of her little pupils when her husband +entered, and throwing all he carried upon the table, gave audible vent +to his feelings in such an exclamation as she had never heard from him +before. + +Luckily the lesson was nearly over. Abby hurried it through, and having +dismissed the child, looked to her husband for an explanation, which +was not long delayed. + +"It serves me right!" William exclaimed indignantly, as he strode +up and down the room. "What business had I to prostitute my talents +to such base uses—to make my genius a slave to a man who does not +even speak his mother tongue correctly? What right had I to make art +subservient to a vile machinist, a man without one elevated idea, a—" + +"But do tell me what it is," Abby ventured to interrupt. "Have you lost +your situation?" + +"I have given up my situation, if that is what you mean." And then +followed an excited and somewhat incoherent account of the transaction, +giving Abby to understand that he had been insulted beyond endurance +by his tyrannical employer, because he would not do something very +degrading, though what that something was did not clearly appear. + +Abby comforted, and sympathized, and agreed as far as possible, not +knowing any thing about the matter, till her husband felt more like a +martyr than ever. At the same time, her heart sank when she thought how +soon their rent was due, and wondered how it was to be obtained. The +next quarter's salary would have paid it, and now it must be paid, if +at all, out of the proceeds of her music lessons, upon which she had +depended for family expenses. + +"I think," she said, pondering, "that I had better take two or three +new pupils in singing. I get more for that than for the piano, and Miss +Emsley told me she knew two at least who would like to begin. That will +be thirty dollars more." + +"That is so like you, Abby—always thinking about the money, and where +it is to come from. You would not have had me remain with a man who had +insulted me, would you?" + +"Of course not, if he really meant to insult you. But you know he is a +hasty man, and sometimes says more than he means. Perhaps he will come +round." + +As if to justify Abby's prediction, the evening brought a note from Mr. +Hitchcock, containing all that was due of Mr. Forester's salary, and +intimating that if Mr. Forester was willing to endeavor to do better, +he, Mr. Hitchcock, was willing to give him another trial. + +Mr. Forester pocketed the money, twisted up the note, and tossed it to +the baby to play with. + +"There is no answer," he said to the messenger, who still lingered. + +"Please to sign the receipt that Mr. Hitchcock sent at the bottom of +the note, sir." + +Abby rescued the paper from the clutches of baby, and smoothing it out, +handed it to her husband, saying in a low voice, "Had you not better +take time to consider?" + +An impatient "No, child, of course not," was all the answer vouchsafed +to her. The receipt was signed and the messenger departed. + + +For several days, Mr. Forester had nothing better to do than to lie +on the sofa, read German novels, play with and tease the baby, and +criticise the playing of the little girls, much to their indignation +and his wife's annoyance. + +"I have something to say to you, if you have leisure to hear it," she +said one day, after dinner. "You know our lease will not be out till +next winter." + +"Well, what of that?" + +"Mrs. Gray knows of a family—two middle-aged people and their daughter, +who would be glad to take the lower part of the house, with most of the +furniture. Don't you think it would be cheaper than to live as we are? +Then I could have my pupils here still, and get on with a little girl +from the asylum to take care of Emma." + +"Do you suppose we could live in any degree comfortably so?" + +"Oh! Yes! Mrs. Gray says they are very decent, respectable people, +though plain. Then you see the house would support us, instead of being +an expense. We could take the front-room up-stairs, with the little +room adjoining, for ourselves, and the girl could sleep in the attic +very well." + +"And I should not have any more marketing to do. I declare, my +love, I really admire your practical turn of mind. It seems a grand +arrangement. But when can it be carried into effect?" + +"Next week, if you approve." + +"Oh! By all means!" replied Mr. Forester. "I have got to go down to +Boston, but I suppose you can do about as well without me as with me. I +am not much assistance upon such occasions." + +"I know that very well," said Abby, not without a slight tinge of +bitterness in her tone. "But what takes you to Boston?" + +"I must try to find something to do, which there seems little +likelihood of my discovering here." + +"But if there is a prospect of our going away, it would not be worth +while to make the change, would it?" + +"There is no very great prospect. It is merely a bare chance, but the +journey will do me good, at any rate. And among my father's friends +there, something may turn up. I have money enough to go, and if you are +not housekeeping, you will not need any great amount." + +So Mr. Forester set out for Boston the next day, leaving his wife to +make all the arrangements for moving. It was the latter end of April, +and the weather was very trying. She took a little cold which settled +upon her lungs, and prevented her from singing for a while. And even +when the hoarseness passed off, her lungs remained sore. + +Notwithstanding this, she took four new pupils in singing, who offered +themselves, (for her music began to be talked of as something out +of the common) and tried to think it a matter of no importance when +she found that every lesson left her with a pain in her chest, and a +feeling of exhaustion, which prevented her from uttering an unnecessary +word for hours afterward. + +William did not return as soon as she expected, but he wrote the +most entertaining and affectionate letters imaginable. At last, an +old acquaintance of his father's found him occupation in working out +sketches, and drawing designs on stone, intended to illustrate an +extensive scientific work about to be published. He wrote to Abby +that the job would occupy about three months—perhaps not as long, and +that it would be necessary for him to remain where he was. But as the +time was so short, and the business probably not a permanent one, he +thought, if she found herself comfortable, she had better remain where +she was. + +And Abby thought so too, and toiled patiently, morning after morning, +through the dull round of lessons, feeling quite happy if she received +a letter at night from her talented husband, who seemed to be enjoying +himself very much. Sometimes, looking back on her past life, she +wondered if it had not been all a dream, that she had been her uncle's +pet and her aunt's pride, envied by all around her, and knowing no +more of care than her own Canary. It seemed so very long ago that +she and Olive had been school-girls together, their greatest anxiety +centred on gaining a prize, their greatest anxiety keeping Charlotte +in a good humor, or begging some of the little ones off from a merited +punishment. But she never allowed herself to repine or be fretful, and +a love-letter from her husband, or a smile or caress from her beautiful +baby repaid her for all. Verily that love which passes the love of +woman must be wonderful indeed. + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. + +BASSWOODS gave Olive a rather more cordial reception than usual when +she returned. In fact, Mrs. Merton's visit had done her a great deal of +good. People are very apt to set a greater value on what they perceive +to be prized by others, and the good people of Basswoods suddenly +thought much more of Miss McHenry, on discovering that she had an uncle +and aunt who were such very superior people, and who were evidently so +much attached to her. + +The school filled up at once, and even with Isabella Lambert's +assistance, Olive found her hands very full. Isabella's talents were of +a higher order than her sister's, and she had studied more, and Olive +found her a valuable coadjutor, as well as a pleasant companion. + +Melissa Tucker, having finished her education, had returned to her +aunt's house, improved in nothing, but on the contrary more malicious, +more conceited, and more fond of tattling than ever. Her aunt, however, +thought her nothing short of perfection, and paraded her sayings +and doings upon all occasions. No sooner did Melissa find herself +comfortably settled at home than she began to look about for something +whereon to exercise her talents, and she soon came to the conclusion +that she could not be better employed than in making mischief between +Miss McHenry and her friends. + +She knew better than to address herself to Olive, whom she felt +understood her perfectly, so she began her attack by calling upon Mrs. +Prendergrass and Isabella, professing great regret that there had been +any misunderstanding, and a desire to be friends, an advance that +was cordially met by the two girls, who had always disliked the idea +of a quarrel. Once established there, she began by wary insinuations +of "patronage," "intermeddling," etc., to try to poison their minds +against Olive. If she had been open in her abuse, they would have met +her at once. But her covert attacks were not so easily warded off; and +they began to have their effect, especially upon Isabella. She was, at +first, not quite so successful with Maria, who cared nothing at all +about being patronized, and knew that Olive did not meddle. So she +changed her points of attack. + +"Cousin Maria," she said one day, in her softest accents, "don't you +think Mr. Prendergrass thinks a great deal of Miss McHenry?" + +"So we all do," was the brief reply. + +"Of course. It is natural you should, perhaps; especially after what +happened before you were married, you know." + +"I don't know what you mean, Melissa. What happened before we were +married?" asked Maria, her curiosity a little excited. + +"Why, don't you know? Oh! I am sorry I said any thing, but I supposed +you knew all about it. It was so commonly talked of in the village. But +if I had had any idea that you did not know it, I would not have spoken +for the world." + +"I can not conceive what you refer to," said Maria, seriously annoyed. + +"Why, only that Mr. Prendergrass was so much attached to Miss McHenry. +It was in every one's mouth, but nobody blamed him, for of course they +all knew that she drew him on. It was about the same time that she was +spreading her nets for Mr. Landon, and I really don't suppose she meant +any thing worse than to amuse herself, and perhaps have another string +to her bow, in case one failed. But it was well-known that he offered +himself to her, and that she refused him more than once. I am sorry +I told you, but it was so generally talked of, that I supposed, of +course, you would have known it." + +And, having fulfilled her mission, Miss Tucker departed, congratulating +herself on the idea that she had at last succeeded in sowing dissension +between Miss McHenry and her most devoted adherents. She had never +forgiven or forgotten her first rebuff in attempting to carry tales +to Miss McHenry in school, and moreover, she felt a mean jealousy of +Olive's popularity, being one of those amiable persons who think every +consideration bestowed upon another just so much taken from themselves. + +As it turned out, she was completely baffled, and that not by any +ingenuity upon Olive's part, but by simple plain dealing. She soon +perceived, that something was the matter—that Isabella's manner toward +her grew haughty and distant, and that any little favor was received +most ungraciously, if at all; while at Maria's house, which she had +always looked upon as a second home, she met a reception so cold as +almost to amount to an insult. She took no notice of it at first, +thinking it but a passing cloud, but the change soon became too much +marked not to force itself upon her attention, and she determined to +investigate the matter. + +Accordingly, one evening, after tea, she called at Maria's, accompanied +by Augusta, and received any thing but a welcome, while a most cordial +greeting was bestowed upon her companion. Mr. Prendergrass indeed was +the same as ever, and his cordial manners gave Olive more courage to +proceed. + +"Maria," she said, after a few moments of indifferent conversation, "I +have not come without an errand, as you may imagine after the reception +you gave me the last time I was here, but I am determined, if possible, +to be at the bottom of this business. It is evident that both you and +Isabella think you have some good reason to be offended with me, and I +think, in all Christian kindness, you are bound to tell me what it is." + +Olive spoke kindly but decidedly. + +Isabella flushed up to her temples, and Maria seemed just ready to cry, +while Mr. Prendergrass laid down his book, and stared first at one, and +then at another, in undisguised amazement. + +Maria at last murmured something about "not being aware—" + +"That is simply impossible, Maria. Both you and Isabella must be aware +that you have treated me very differently for three weeks past, from +what you have done before. I think I have a right to demand the cause +of offense that I may make amends if I have been wrong, and take +measures to justify myself if I have been slandered. I have aimed to +treat you as a sister," she continued, her voice faltering a little, +"from the first time that you came to me, and I have done the same by +Isabella, but it is possible, that by some inadvertence, I may have +wounded you. If so, I am very sorry." + +Mr. Prendergrass here interrupted her. "Miss McHenry, I can not +conceive it possible, ma'am, that any of my household can have treated +you with disrespect, so much attached to you as we all are. If so, I +shall insist upon an immediate apology." + +"It is not an apology that I want, Mr. Prendergrass," replied Olive. +"I presume Maria thinks I have injured her in some way, and I am only +anxious to get at the truth. I suspect some one has been telling +stories about me, and—" + +The look that passed between the sisters convinced her at once that she +was right, and she went on with fresh courage. + +"If this is so, I hope you will tell me at once both the name of the +storyteller and the substance of the story." + +"I am sure I never thought of such a thing," said Maria, beginning to +sob, "till I was told that—that—" + +"Well—that what?" said Olive encouragingly. + +"That you—that Mr. Prendergrass had—had—" + +A sudden light burst upon Olive's mind, and she exclaimed: "You little +goose! You don't mean to say any one has been trying to make you +jealous!" + +Maria sobbed more than ever. + +"I dare say that some obliging person has been telling you that your +excellent husband was a little taken with me at one time, which was +very true, and a great compliment I felt it, though, as he will tell +you, it was one I would rather have dispensed with. But that was long +before he saw you. When you came, he almost forgot that such a person +as I ever existed." + +"But they say that you encouraged him, and—and—" + +"Did I ever encourage you, Mr. Prendergrass?" asked Olive, turning to +him. + +"No, Miss McHenry," he replied. "You never gave me one particle of +encouragement. I regret very much that my dear wife has been so weak +as to cherish suspicions injurious, not only to herself and you, but +to her husband, who has never had a thought separate from her since he +first knew her." + +"You see, my dear Maria, how unfounded your ideas have been—do you not? +I was engaged to Mr. Landon three months before Mr. Prendergrass ever +said any thing to me, and I have been engaged to him ever since. Now, +tell me, did I ever say an unkind word to either of you since I first +knew you?" + +"No," said both the sisters at once. + +"Did I ever speak harshly or slightingly of you to any one?" + +"You said I was a good sort of a girl, if I were educated," said +Isabella, half-indignantly, half-laughing. + +"I do not see any thing very slanderous in that, even if it were true," +observed Olive. "But I do not remember saying so. When was it?" + +"At Mrs. Jones's—at the society." + +"Augusta, do you remember my saying that Isabella was a good sort of a +girl, if she were educated?" asked Olive, with due gravity. + +"Nothing of the kind," replied Augusta. "I remember Miss Tucker asking +you if you did not think Miss Lambert would be a pretty girl, if she +were not so uncultivated. I can not say I have any recollection of your +making any reply whatever." + +"Why, Melissa told me herself that you said so!" exclaimed Isabella, +unguardedly. + +"Oh! Ho! I thought we should get at the bottom of the business before +long. So Miss Tucker has been having a hand in it. But, Maria, I +thought you knew the whole family too well to attach any importance to +their sayings and doings." + +"Melissa said you called me a serpent," sobbed Maria, now as much +ashamed as she had before been angry. + +"I assure you, my child, if I had ever thought so, I should acquit you +now. You have shown conclusively that you have little of the wisdom +attributed to that animal, or you could not allow yourself to be made +uncomfortable by the speeches of a professed mischief-maker. But let +by-gones be by-gones. Is there any more?" + +Maria and Isabella could not think of any thing else that amounted +to aught but vague insinuations, except that Melissa had declared +that Miss McHenry had told Mr. Gregory, in her hearing, that Mr. +Prendergrass was a great fool to marry a poor girl, who had her reasons +for being glad to jump at the chance of having him. + +"That is neither more nor less than an unmitigated lie!" said Olive, +provoked into using a strong word. "I don't see, Maria, how you could +believe such a story for a moment. I am not much in the habit of using +such elegant expressions—am I? But we won't say any thing more about +it," she added. "I see you are convinced that you are wrong, so we will +let the whole matter drop, and consider it as a joke." + +"Don't go!" begged Maria. "Stay and spend the evening with us, if it is +only to show that you are not angry with us. I am sorry I was so very +silly, and so is Isabella, I am sure. Pray do stay—won't you?" + +Olive laughed, and suffered her bonnet and shawl to be captured, and +herself to be set down in the most comfortable chair in the room. It +seemed as if the girls could not do enough to show their penitence +and good-will, while she, on her part, set herself to obliterate any +uncomfortable impression that might have been left upon their minds. +They were in the midst of a great frolic over a game of "twenty +questions," Mr. Prendergrass replying with a caution which would have +been becoming to a diplomatist, to the severe examination of the +ladies, when the door opened, and in walked Miss Melissa herself. + +She looked both startled and puzzled at the scene which greeted her +eyes, but in a moment recovered herself, and came forward with her +usual caressing manner. Miss McHenry and Mrs. Tower greeted her with +great politeness—the latter especially was remarkably gracious. Maria +and her sister looked provoked and uneasy, and Mr. Prendergrass was +as immovable as Mont Blanc. It was impossible for Miss Tucker not to +perceive that something was wrong, but she made great efforts to appear +as usual. + +"How pleasant it looks here!" she observed, in her smoothest way. "It +is really delightful to find you all so sociably engaged." + +"You know how to appreciate such things, Miss Tucker," said Augusta, in +her most silvery tones. "I am really delighted that you came in." + +"But I must really call you to account for little mistake you made," +added Olive, taking up the ball. "How did you come to tell Miss Lambert +that I said she would be a good sort if she were only educated, when +you know very well you yourself asked me if I did think so?" + +If a glance could have killed Isabella, she would have fallen dead upon +the spot, but Miss Tucker did not answer. She did not exactly know what +to say. Olive went on: + +"Moreover, you told Mrs. Prendergrass that I made remarks about +herself and her husband which you know very well I never did make. I +do not know how you can reconcile it with your conscience to tell such +falsehoods, nor does it particularly matter to me. I am sorry, however, +that you should do it, under the mask of a high religious profession, +both for your own sake, and for that of the cause. I must tell you that +if you are leaning for salvation upon any principle which allows you +to do such things, you are leaning upon a broken reed which will fail +you in the day of trial. Let me entreat you to examine your own state +at once and honestly, and repent of the slanders of which you have been +guilty before it is too late, and you are brought into judgment for +them. I am not much afraid of your injuring me, but I must tell you +that unless you stop these covert attacks I shall take some measures to +defend myself, and these measures may not be very agreeable to you. I +hope this is all that is necessary for me to say." + +Miss Tucker had stood like a statue during this address, and for a +moment after it was concluded, then recovering herself she said, +blandly, but with a deep sigh: + +"Dear Miss McHenry, I am sorry to see you so angry and for such a +trifle. I am much obliged to you for your advice, and for your threats +I am not at all troubled at them. If Maria has been weak enough to +betray a friend who meant to do her a service, I pity her from the +bottom of my heart, and regret that her confiding disposition should be +so abused." And she glanced in an unmistakable way from Olive to the +gentleman. + +"Did you mean to do her confiding disposition a service when you told +her that Miss McHenry made insinuations against her character to my +father?" inquired Mrs. Tower. "Permit me to tell you that I shall +inform him of the way you have used his name in this matter in order +that he may take such steps as he thinks best." + +Miss Tucker heard this with another sigh, as though in pity for such +deep depravity, but she did not seem inclined to say any more, and +walked in a dignified manner out of the room. The next thing heard of +her was that she had gone to spend some time with a school-mate who +lived at the West, somewhere about Green Bay. + +Olive was very glad, for she disliked very much the idea of a +collision, and feared further mischief. The Lamberts, heartily ashamed +of being influenced by such a person, were more her friends than ever, +and Olive took pains to show them by every means in her power that she +did not cherish any resentment. Isabella improved in usefulness every +day, and Olive grew more and more attached to her the more she knew her. + + +Olive's Sunday-school class at last began to reward her for the pains +she had taken. When Mr. Gregory announced an approaching confirmation, +four of the oldest girls gave in their names at once. Julia stood aloof +for the time. She seemed very anxious to make a profession of her +faith, but was afraid she should not always persevere, and that she +would be the means of bringing discredit upon her profession. + +"But Julia," said Olive, "you are not required to persevere always all +at once. Every duty has its day, and for every day strength will be +provided according to the need. It is not as if you were dependent on +yourself, you know, and is it not something like a distrust of God's +mercy to doubt his giving you that power which he has promised?" + +Julia pondered. + +"It is such a little time since I began to think about such things. +Miss McHenry, I used to think I was so much superior to the rest of the +girls because I did not care for going to church, and religious books +and such things." + +"But you do not feel so now, Julia." + +"No indeed! I can not tell you how ashamed and humbled I am when I +look back at that time. It is more that than any thing else which +discourages me now, for fear that I should go back and be as proud and +careless as ever." + +"I do not think there is much danger of that, Julia. You could never +forget that feeling of unworthiness, and of the mercy which brought you +to the knowledge of it." + +"Perhaps not; and yet people do become careless, you know." + +"Yes; and they are much more likely to become so if they have nothing +outward to prevent them. You will have the communion, coming at +least every month, to make you examine your self, to remind you of +your Saviour's dying love and mercy, to renew your self-consecration +to himself and his Church. Will not this be a great help to you in +maintaining a Christian character?" + +Julia thought so, but she still seemed to feel that she was unworthy. + +"So are we all, my dear. There never was a communicant yet who was +worthy of the mercy of God. But if, with all your unworthiness, you +have not hesitated to accept the salvation of which the communion is +only the outward and visible sign, why should you be stopped by the +sign itself?" + +Julia thought and considered, and finally made up her mind to take +the step. She had left school, but still continued to be a frequent +visitor, and Olive was very fond of her, though she had given her +more trouble than any other girl in school. But there was something +about her so truthful and hearty, and so far removed from the aimless +frivolity that wearied her life out in so many of her other pupils, +that she was ready to forgive a good deal of willfulness. + +If Julia was sometimes conceited, and now and then rebellious, she +learned her lessons and took an interest in them, and in things which +illustrated them. She really thought and talked, instead of dreaming +and chattering. Then she was eminently truthful, and resorted to none +of the mean artifices which some of the other girls used to conceal +their faults. She would have scorned to bring in a false excuse for +being late in the morning, or to lay a plot for getting called out of +school half an hour before it was over, or pretend a headache or weak +eyes as an excuse for neglecting a lesson. + +With many of Olive's pupils, seriousness upon any subject whatever, +seemed all but out of the question. Senseless chattering and equally +senseless giggling seemed their only idea of social intercourse, and +any attempt to develop or employ their higher faculties only made them +sullen. Educating these young persons was almost out of the question. +The only thing that could be done was to drag them perseveringly +through a course of lessons in hopes that some knowledge would stick +to them which might afterwards bear fruit. This was hard work enough, +and thankless enough, but now and then one would come out from her +companions, and after a while attain to a respectable degree of +learning, and these few examples encouraged Olive to persevere. + + +Olive's warm friendship with Ruth and Augusta continued and increased, +and it did them all good. In Mrs. Tower indeed the improvement was not +so apparent, but in Ruth every one saw it. She was as cheerful and +useful as ever, but she was much gentler, and did not say nearly so +many sharp things. Moreover, she was more careful in her manners and +dress. Her superb hair was put up with some attention to the becoming, +as well as to the shortest possible time in which it could be put up, +and her general appearance was much improved. + +The Milton and Tennyson war still waged sometimes, but with diminished +force. Olive had learned to see new beauties in the English classics, +and Ruth allowed that not many poems were superior to the "Palace of +Art," and that Dryden never wrote any thing equal to "Œnone." Ruth +even treated the ingenious Mr. Ruskin with something short of absolute +contempt, a degree of toleration at which Augusta never expected her to +arrive. And Augusta, who had a secret leaning to candlesticks, allowed +that in the present state of the world, it would be better worth while +to build four churches worth four thousand dollars a piece and leave +the rest of the money for parish purposes than to erect one edifice +costing fifty thousand. + +They had been studying German together during the last winter, Olive +acting as teacher, and they found a new source of pleasure as they +learned to read it with some degree of facility. Together they admired +and pitied Egmont, and heartily detested Wilhelm Meister, and set +critics at defiance by alternately ridiculing and railing at Faust. +They studied the beloved Schiller, laughed over "Puss in Boots," and +regretted that Goethe's years of life had not been granted to the good +and pure Fouqué and Novalis. + +Mr. Gregory shook his head sometimes over these German raptures, and +wished that they would spend the time upon Greek. And Mrs. Felton +was made very uneasy on their account, having imbibed the idea +that all the Germans since Luther's time were either infidels or +transubstantialists—meaning probably trancendentalists—but as Ruth lost +none of her fondness for the Bible and religious reading, and seemed +to enjoy her lessons very much, her fears gradually subsided, and she +regarded the obnoxious volumes with more complacency, even when opened +in her presence. + +But before long an event happened which for some time put an end to +their studies. One evening the three friends were sitting over their +books in the pleasant little study at the parsonage which looked out +upon the road. It was a warm spring evening, and the long windows were +thrown open to their full extent to admit the spring air and the last +lingering rays of the sun. + +"Decidedly it is too dark for study," said Augusta, closing her book. + +"I have been looking for you to find that out," replied Ruth; "I have +been unable to tell one letter from another for the last half-hour." + +"There is nothing very strange in that," answered Augusta, laughing. +"You never will be able to tell your 'B's and your 'V's apart, even in +broad daylight. If we were to study two years, I should expect to find +you looking for 'beugen' among the 'v's." + +"There is some one coming to see your father," remarked Olive, glancing +out of the window; "do you know who it is?" + +"It is no one I ever saw before, I am sure," said Augusta. "How +miserably ill he looks! Bless me, Ruth, what is the matter? You look as +if you had seen a ghost." + +Ruth was indeed extremely pale. She stood looking at the stranger, who +came straight across the grass to the study-windows, as though familiar +with the ways of the place. He was a respectably-dressed man, tall and +large, but looking very pale and ill. The girls glanced from him to +Ruth in surprise, seeing nothing in his appearance to cause alarm. But +before they could speak, he reached the window. + +Ruth sprang forward to meet him, and seemed as though she would have +fallen, but he caught her in his arms. + +"God bless you, Ruth!" he exclaimed. "You knew me, if no one else did." + +Augusta caught his hand and looked in his face. + +"Frederick! Can it be possible?" + +"I did not think I was so altered that no one could recognize me," he +said mournfully. "Yes, Augusta, I have come back to see if there is a +corner of the old house left for me—to die in," he added in a lower +tone, as he sank upon the sofa. "Where are my father and mother?" + +"Shall I go and find them?" asked Olive in a low tone. And without +waiting for an answer, she hurried away. + +She met Mr. and Mrs. Gregory sauntering slowly homeward through the +deepening twilight, the one burdened with a basket of early radishes +and lettuce from a neighbor's hotbeds, the other with a bunch of +flowers. + +"Where are you hurrying at such a rate?" asked the lady in wonder. + +"I was going to look for you," replied Olive breathlessly, though +trying to conceal her agitation. "There is a gentleman at the house +that wants very much to see you." + +"Why, child, how flurried you are!" exclaimed Mr. Gregory. "Is it +Walter?" + +"It is no one I ever saw before," said Olive, as they walked along more +quickly, "but Augusta and Ruth know him, and sent me to look for you." + +"Augusta and Ruth! Husband, can it be—!" And Mrs. Gregory quickened her +steps almost to a run, to keep pace with her husband's long strides. + +Olive followed at a distance, thinking she might be needed, and sat +down in the parlor. She heard a faint scream, an exclamation from Mrs. +Gregory, and then the door closed between them. She sat patiently for +half an hour, struggling against a forlorn kind of feeling of being a +stranger, and out of place. Why is it that this feeling so often comes +to us in the presence of joy in which we have no share, and so seldom +when the scene at which we are present is one of sorrow? She was just +wondering what Mrs. Felton would imagine had become of them, when she +heard Augusta's voice calling to her. + +"What—are you sitting here in the dark? Come in, do. I am afraid we +have not been very hospitable, but we have been so surprised with +Frederick, that—" + +"That you have forgotten me," said Olive smiling; "and no wonder. How +is Ruth?" + +"She hardly knows, herself, I believe. Was it not wonderful that she +should have known him the first moment? It is six years since we have +any of us seen him. Poor fellow! He is sadly worn and tired now, but I +hope he will be better to-morrow." + +"Where has he been all this time?" asked Olive. + +"Oh! In many places here and there. Mostly in the Indian Ocean. He has +come home quite a rich man he says." + +Olive could not so much wonder at Ruth's recognition of her long-absent +lover, when she looked at him as he sat between his father and mother +on the sofa. He was so exactly like Augusta, despite his beard and +moustache, and all other differences, she thought she should have known +him anywhere. He looked pale and worn, for all his bronze complexion, +and there was a languor in his manners which seemed to indicate either +illness or great fatigue. One hand was clasped in his mother's, the +other rested on his father's arm. But his eyes seemed all for Ruth, +who sat leaning back in the rocking-chair, looking pale, but with an +expression of intense yet subdued happiness that fully transfigured her +face, and made Olive wonder how she could ever have thought her plain. + +Augusta was the only one of the party who looked sad. Her brother had +left them in the beginning of her engagement, and since then she had +been a beloved wife, a widow, and a childless mother. + +"Ruth, what will your mother think has become of us?" asked Olive, +after a while. "We ought to have been at home by eight, and it is now +eleven." + +"We must go," said Ruth, rousing herself. "I had no idea that it +was so late. I wonder what mother will say?" she continued, as they +were walking homeward by themselves, having declined Mr. Gregory's +escort. "Would you mind telling her about it, Olive, and letting me go +up-stairs? I want so much to be alone." + +Olive consented, of course, and as they found the door open, Ruth went +straight to her own apartment, and Olive went into the sitting-room, +where she found Mrs. Felton asleep on the sofa. + +"Bless me. Olive!" she said peevishly, as she roused herself and rubbed +her eyes. "Where have you been all this time? Here I have been sitting +up for you till my eyes are fairly out of my head. Where is Ruth?" + +"She is gone up-stairs," replied Olive. "I am sorry we kept you up, +but we could not help it very well. They have had rather an exciting +evening at the parsonage. Frederick has come home." + +"Why, do tell!" exclaimed Mrs. Felton, wide awake at once. "Well, if +I ever! You don't say he has come home! Why, every one thought he was +dead long ago. And so he has come back! When did he get here? Tell me +all about it, won't you?" + +Olive complied, making her tale as circumstantial as possible. When she +mentioned the circumstance of Ruth's being the first to recognize the +stranger, Mrs. Felton exclaimed: "There now! That is just like her! +I never did see such a girl. I dare say she would have him now if he +asked her, though she has refused so many good offers." + +"He does not seem to me as though he were likely to have any body," +said Olive. "I think he looks very ill indeed, but that might have been +only fatigue and agitation." + +"I wonder if he has come home to be a burden on the old folks in the +evening of their days?" Mrs. Felton went on to say. "I think it will be +really too bad if he has." + +"He told Augusta that he had come home quite a rich man," answered +Olive, "but even if he had not, I know they would not feel it a burden." + +"Quite a rich man, eh? Well now, I'd never expect that of Fred Gregory. +But any way, I am glad he has come home if he has reformed. It will be +a comfort to their minds to see him once more. What did the old lady +say to him when she came in?" + +"I don't know. I was not in the room. I thought they would rather be by +themselves." + +Mrs. Felton seemed to think this a very remarkable piece of self-denial +on Olive's part, and promised herself the pleasure of going over to +sympathize with Mrs. Gregory, the first thing in the morning. The hint +that Olive had given respecting Frederick having acquired property, was +sufficient to set her imagination at work, and she lay awake half the +night, arranging a romance wherein Mr. Gregory the younger played the +part of an immensely wealthy nabob, come home expressly to marry her +daughter, and to die shortly afterward, leaving Ruth a rich widow. + +"We can go on living together just the same," her reverie went on, +"only in more style, of course. Black always was becoming to Ruth. I +wonder whether she will wear caps?" And in deciding whether these caps +should be of muslin or crape, Mrs. Felton finally lost the thread of +her reflections in sleep. + +It did not appear, however, that any part of her romance was likely +to be realized, except that which related to her hero's death. In the +morning, he was so ill that he was unable to leave his room, and for +two or three weeks he lay between life and death, in a fever. No one +seemed to think it strange that Ruth was constantly at the parsonage, +and indeed made it her home, till Frederick began to improve a little. + +There was a great deal of talk about his unexpected return, and +considerable speculation as to the amount of his property, and people +wondered whether he would marry Ruth in case he got well enough, and +whether she would have him. Mrs. Tucker thought that she would refuse +him with disdain if she had an atom of proper pride about her, as, of +course she had not, or she would not be at the parsonage so much. She +did not think it at all proper, for her part. + +Meantime, the objects of all this conversation paid very little +attention to any thing beyond themselves. The prodigal was happy in +being at home again, at peace with himself, the world, and his God, +and looking forward with humble confidence to that city which hath +foundations, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are +at rest. The peace that passeth all understanding brooded over Ruth's +heart and mind. She felt that it was well with her lover, and whether +she enjoyed his society in this world, or looked forward to it in the +next, was comparatively a matter of small concern. It was enough that +he was faithful, repentant, forgiven, safe; that she could minister to +his wants, both of body and mind; that he loved to have her by him; +that he always knew her, even when his father and mother seemed like +strangers to him; that he was at last worthy of her love. + +After a time, he recovered sufficiently to ride out, and even to walk +to church. But he continued feeble and suffering, and all felt that his +life hung upon a thread. He had earnestly requested Doctor Gordon's +true opinion, and that opinion was freely given. The physician told him +that he could never recover, even though he might live some time. His +disease was one of the heart, which might terminate his life at any +moment. + +Frederick received the announcement calmly and cheerfully, and set +about finding some employment which should occupy without fatiguing +him. This was found in the cataloguing and arranging a large quantity +of East-Indian and Chinese curiosities, which he had picked up in his +travels, and which he proposed to present to the academy. Thus he spent +his time quietly and peacefully, happy in the society of those he loved +best in the world, and awaiting the summons to his heavenly rest. + +This was the state of things when Olive went down to New-York to visit +Laura, who would not hear of her stopping anywhere else first. + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. + +OLIVE found Laura established in a fine house, in a fashionable street, +with abundance of fine furniture, fine visitors, fine servants, every +thing, in short, which had formerly constituted her idea of perfect +happiness. Mrs. Witherington welcomed her sister with much more +cordiality than usual, and seemed to think she could not do too much +to make her comfortable. Olive had never slept in a room so splendidly +furnished as that which Laura assigned to her. The pretty trifles that +covered her dressing-table cost more than all Olive's wardrobe put +together, and the price of the mantel-ornaments would have supported +a Western missionary and his wife for a year. The whole decoration of +the house was upon the same lavish scale, and seemed so extravagant to +Olive that she was glad to learn that it had been furnished before her +sister came into it. + +Laura appeared to enjoy it all wonderfully, and Mr. Witherington +appeared to think nothing too good or too expensive for her. The first +evening was spent quietly at home, Laura issuing an order to be denied +to visitors, and giving up a party to which she was engaged, for +Olive's sake. + +"It is quite a sacrifice, I assure you," she said, laughing; "for I was +expecting to make a very splendid appearance." + +"I am sure, my dear, I enjoy the prospect of spending an evening +quietly and rationally at home, and going to bed at a reasonable hour," +observed Mr. Witherington, "especially as we are to be in town but +a few days longer. I think there is no greater bore upon earth than +continual parties." + +"But we have not been to a party in nearly five days," said Laura, +pouting a little; "and the last one was a wedding, too, you know. +Besides, you know this will be the last one." + +Mr. Witherington sighed, but did not make any reply, and Olive thought +he looked annoyed and uncomfortable. She could not wonder, when she +found how Laura spent her time, and how little of it was given to her +home and her husband. + +True there were no more parties, but something else came along to fill +up every evening. One night a concert, then the opera, where a star of +the first magnitude was then rising, then a few friends at home, fifty +being Laura's most contracted definition of the word few. They were to +go to the country the next week, and then Olive hoped there might be +some respite. + +"Confess, now, Olive," Laura said, one morning when they were driving +together, "that with all your philosophy you would like to exchange +with me. Is not this better than school-teaching from day to day, with +no recreation, only now and then a sewing society?" + +"I have never had much experience of your way of life, Laura," Olive +replied, "but from what I have observed since I have been here, I would +rather spend my life in teaching district-school from one year to +another, than spend my life as you do. I am sure it would not be any +more fatiguing, and I should at least have the comfort of thinking that +I was bringing something to pass." + +Laura looked incredulous. + +"I am very sure I never was so tired after the hardest day I ever spent +in school, as I was the morning after Mrs. Blank's party, and you +seemed equally so; and what have you to show for it, after all? Suppose +you pass the whole of next winter in this way—what will it amount to? +You have no time to read or study, and very little, as far as I can +see, to attend to your household. And then, at the end of life, how +will it look as it is passed in review?" + +"There is no use in bringing that in," said Laura, abruptly. "If we +were always thinking how things would look when we come to die, we +should never do any thing." + +"I don't know about that," said Olive. "I think we should do some +things a good deal better." + +"But not any thing we want to do," persisted Laura. "If we were always +thinking upon death, we should have no pleasure in things that are very +agreeable now, because we should all the time feel that we must go and +leave them." + +"Perhaps we should only set a more just value upon them. You know the +lines Mr. Witherington was reading last evening from his favorite, +Southey: + + "'O Monarch! only in the hour of death, + We learn to value things like these.' + +"But at any rate, it does not seem wise to fix one's mind entirely +upon things which we may be called upon to leave at any time, and must +inevitably give up before a good while." + +"I declare, Olive, you are a capital preacher!" said Laura, forcing a +laugh. "I hope Walter will accept of your help in writing his sermons. +And by the by, when is that young gentleman to be expected? I thought +he was going to meet you here." + +"I expect him to-day or to-morrow—possibly this evening." + +"Is he as much given to preaching as yourself, my dear? Because if +he is, I shall be quite afraid of him. You have made me quite blue, +already." + +"I don't mean to make you blue, my love," replied Olive affectionately, +"but I do wish I could persuade you to think a little. You have so much +to be thankful for—youth, health, fortune, an excellent husband—I can +not bear to have you ungrateful for it all." + +"Well, Olive, he 'is' a good husband," said Laura feelingly. "You don't +know how good he is. I am sure I did not till I came to see him every +day. I did not believe any man could be so thoroughly excellent as he +proves himself. Since we have been married, I have never known or seen +him do or say a thing that I would wish otherwise. I only wish I were +more worthy of him, but some how one's conscience and one's wishes are +so terribly at variance." + +"But since it is conscience that must decide the matter at last, would +it not be well to bring one's wishes a little more into harmony with +its teachings?" asked Olive. "At least would it not be worth while to +try?" + +Laura did not reply, and Olive thought she had said enough. + +The remainder of the drive was rather a silent one. When they arrived +at home, they found Walter awaiting them. He brought the pleasant news +that his studies would be finished by the next spring, and then— + +"Then comes ordination," said Olive. + +"Yes, and something else after it," said Walter. "I hope it will not be +long before I am settled somewhere, and I assure you I have no idea of +boarding or keeping bachelor's hall." + +"And have you no desire of remaining for a short time that interesting +creature, an unmarried clergyman?" asked Olive mischievously. "Just +think how much you will lose if you settle down so soon as a family +man." + +"I really can not say I wish to fill that trying position, Olive. I +think it is one in which it is exceedingly difficult to appear to +advantage. But when have you heard from M., and from Mrs. Forester?" + +"It is three weeks since I have had a letter from Abby," returned +Olive, "and I am growing very anxious about her. Mr. Forester has +been in Boston for some time—in fact, nearly all summer, and they are +boarding. But her constant excuse is that she has so much to do. I can +not understand it." + +Walter looked surprised. + +"Did you not know Abby was giving music lessons? I heard so early in +the summer. I understand she has a good many pupils." + +"She has never said a word about it to me," replied Olive. "How did you +hear of it?" + +"Some of us were talking of music one day, and one, a young man from +B., spoke of his sister's music-teacher as singing wonderfully well, +and called her Mrs. Forester. This aroused my curiosity, and from his +description of her husband, I satisfied myself that it could be no one +else than Abby." + +"What did he say about her husband?" asked Olive. + +"Why, really, my love, his description was so far from complimentary +that I should not care to repeat it." + +"You need not be afraid," said Olive, coloring. "I could hardly think +worse of him than I do. And so that is the secret of her want of time. +Poor child! She is wearing her life out giving music lessons, while he +is enjoying himself at Boston, in an artistic fashion. Why could he +not stay at home and take care of her? My uncle found him an excellent +place, where he had a good salary." + +"So Hitchcock said. I believe it was his father or some relation that +employed him. But he said Mr. Forester was always behindhand, and could +not be depended upon for any thing, and they had an explosion one day, +and Mr. Forester went off. Do you know where he is now?" + +"The last I heard, he was preparing illustrations for some book or +other, but very likely he has become tired of it by this time. There +is, as your friend says, no dependence upon him. With all his fancied +intellectual superiority, he is as meanly selfish as any man I ever +knew." + +"I saw a sister of his once, who seemed a very nice girl," remarked +Walter. "I fancy she is older than Forester." + +"Yes, his sister Emma. Abby thinks all the world of her, and she has +always been the main stay of the family. But I think they all look down +upon her, and consider her a person of no talent whatever. I am sure +William does—though she has more in her little finger than goes to his +whole composition. But to think of that poor little thing giving music +lessons!" Olive almost cried at the very idea. + +"But why is it so much worse for her than for you?" + +"Because she is so utterly unfitted for it, Walter. And then it is such +a disappointment—such a contrast to what she expected when she was +married. She thought she was going to be perfectly happy, only because +she married the man she loved—and such an accomplished person. Much +good his accomplishments do him or any one else, except to make him +think himself superior to all the rest of mankind, and that every one +else is bound to work for and wait upon him." + +"Does he profess to be in any degree a religious man?" + +"Oh! No, indeed. He is quite too grand for that. He says, so far as I +can get at his ideas, that he worships God in beauty—that every thing +beautiful must have good in it—and that art is religion." + +"A very convenient faith for those who like to escape from all +restraints upon their conduct." + +"Oh! Yes. You should hear him discourse upon the trammels of +convention, and the narrow-minded views of those miserable dogmatists +who would shackle the grasping genius of such minds as—George Sand, +for instance, that 'large-souled woman and large-hearted man,' as he +is fond of calling her. I asked him one day point-blank if he did not +think her a very bad woman." + +"What did he say?" + +"He politely replied that my views of morality were too narrow to +enable me to judge of a character like hers. For my part, I can not say +that I have any desire for wider views of morality than those taken by +the Author of the Ten Commandments." + +"And Abby—does she sympathize in all these large views?" + +"I think there was a time when she did, in some degree," replied Olive, +"but I am sure she is very much changed in that respect. In one of her +letters, she told me how she loved to think of the lessons she learned +at her mother's knee, though she was a very little child then, and how +much she enjoyed the idea of teaching them over again to little Emma. + + "'I put her dear little hands together and say a prayer for her every +night and morning,' she wrote, 'and it seems as if she knew what I +meant already, she is so still.' + +"And I am sure, though she does not say so, that she prays a great deal +herself. The whole tone of her letters shows that she is very much +changed in that respect." + +"Let that give you comfort, my dearest Olive," said Walter tenderly. +"If, in the midst of her troubles, she has learned to love God, we have +the very highest assurance that all things work together for good. No +real harm can happen to her while she is faithful to Him, though in his +wisdom he may call upon her to glorify him, even in the fires." + +Olive was silent for a few moments, and then said: "I wrote to her this +morning, and I really think, if I do not have an answer in two or three +days, I must go on there directly, instead of going to the country with +Laura. I do not like the idea of losing a moment of our time together +either, but I feel so anxious about her." + +"Wait a little," said Walter; "we may hear again soon, and then you can +decide better what course to take." + +Walter's prediction was verified, for Mr. Witherington brought in a +letter at dinner-time, addressed to Olive. It was from Charlotte, and +contained the startling intelligence that Abby was at home, and very +ill. + + "You will be surprised to hear that Abby is with us," she wrote, "and, +indeed, it hardly seems real to any of us yet. It appears that Mrs. +Granger had been away, so that she had not seen Abby for some time. +As soon as she came home she went to visit her, and found her so very +unwell, and so very uncomfortable, that she wrote to father about it, +without telling Abby what she was going to do. As soon as we received +the letter, father and mother set out directly, and they found her so +very unwell, and so very uncomfortable, that they thought the only +thing to be done was to bring her home at once, and she was very glad +to come. She is a little more comfortable to-day, but Dr. M. does not +give us much encouragement, and she is so very anxious to see you, that +mother thinks you had better come home directly. She wants Walter to +come with you and finish his visit here. Telegraph, that we may know +when to expect you. + + "P. S.—Mammy has taken possession of little Emma, and will hardly allow +any one else to look at her. She is a sweet little creature, and seems +healthy." + +Olive handed the letter to Laura. "I must go to-morrow," she said, "or +to-night, if it is not too late." + +"You will gain nothing by leaving to-night," said Mr. Witherington, as +soon as he understood the matter. "It will be better to take the early +morning-train. I shall be very sorry to have you leave us, but I can +not ask you to stay." + +Laura's eyes were full of tears, as she followed Olive to her own room. + +"Poor Abby! Poor child! But I am thankful she is at home again. I think +she will get better—don't you?—now that she has a comfortable place to +live in." + +"I don't know," said Olive. "Charlotte would not have written so if she +had not been very much alarmed. She does not make a fuss for nothing, +and I think Abby must have felt herself very ill before she consented +to go. Poor child! I suppose she thought she might at least die at +home." + +"Don't talk about that," said Laura. "I am sure she will get well. Just +think how strong she always was!" + +"She has never been well since Emma was born," said Olive, shaking her +head, "and if her lungs were affected, as aunt feared last spring, +there would be nothing worse for her than singing lessons. I declare, +Laura, I never thought it would be hard for me not to hate any one, but +it is hard for me to have any other feeling toward that man—" + +"And the worst of it was, in my mind," said Laura, "that I never +believed he really cared much for her, except for having his own way. +You know I insinuated to you that he offered himself to me." + +Olive nodded. + +"He did so again, and from what I heard afterward, I was pretty sure he +was engaged to Abby even then. I taxed him with his attentions to her +at the time, but he laughed, and said all he cared for was her music. +If she had refused him, he would have been dangling after some one else +in two weeks' time. Then after, there was so much opposition made by +the family, I suppose he persuaded himself that he really loved her, +and was determined to have her at any rate." + +"He is—but there is no use in talking about that. I should like to +forget him entirely, if I could. Do you think you shall go to the +country to-morrow?" + +"Probably not till Thursday now. I shall be able to go to M. as easily +from Briars as from here, if it is necessary. If she gets better, so +that change of air is considered desirable for her, we will come and +take her down there. You must be sure and let me know of her state as +often as you can. Does it not seem strange that this news should come +just as we were talking about death this morning?" + +"'In the midst of life we are in death,'" repeated Olive, almost +involuntarily. "But if it must be one or the other, I should rather it +were Abby than you." + +"You think she is better prepared. But, indeed, Olive, I am going to +try and be more serious after this. You and my husband make me ashamed +of being such a butterfly. But you know I was brought up to it." + +"I know it," said Olive, "but don't make that an excuse for your +present course of life, if you feel that you are wrong, Laura. You can +act for yourself, and you are bound to do it." + +"But what shall I do, Olive? Suppose I become convinced of the +uselessness and emptiness of all these things—how shall I break off +from them? I can not go into a convent." + +"And it would be of no use if you did, so long as you carried an +unchanged heart with you. The same desires and objects of life would be +just as sinful if they were not gratified, as though they were. It is +not the circumstances, but your heart, that wants changing first, and +when that is right, never fear but the way will be plain before you." + + +The next morning, Walter and Olive began their journey, and arrived at +home in the middle of the afternoon. Charlotte met them at the door. + +"She is much more comfortable to-day," was her reply to Olive's +hurried query, "but you must expect to see her much changed. She had a +terrible turn of suffering last night, from which she was relieved by a +severe hemorrhage at the lungs this morning. She says it is the third +she has had since June. You can not go up now," she added, checking +Olive's eagerness. "She has just fallen asleep for the first time in +twenty-four hours." + +Olive inquired for the baby. + +"Mammy has taken her out to walk. She is the only one who can coax +her away from her mother, but Emma seemed to take to her honest black +face at once. She will sit upon the bed as still as a mouse, hours at +a time, if we will let her. I never saw such a child! Mr. Collins came +yesterday to pray with Abby, and when he began, the little thing put +her tiny hands together, and held them up as though she understood it +all. It was quite too much for mother—I never saw her so affected. She +was obliged to leave the room." + +"How does Abby seem to feel herself?" + +"She is quite composed most of the time, and complains very little. The +only thing that comes to trouble her, is her anxiety about her husband. +She is afraid he will not get here—" + +"Has any one written?" asked Olive, as Charlotte paused without +completing the sentence. + +"Father wrote the day they came home, but we have received no answer. +I think, though she does not say so, that she is afraid he will be +displeased at her coming. I do not see why he should. She could not +stay there alone, and in such an uncomfortable place, too." + +"How was she when uncle found her? I have heard nothing yet, except +what you said in your letter." + +"That is pretty much all. Father got a letter from Mrs. Granger, saying +that she thought Abby was very ill—more than she herself was aware. +Mrs. Granger did not say that she had bled at the lungs; perhaps she +did not know it. But her description of the symptoms she had observed +alarmed father and mother so much that they determined to set out for +there directly. + +"When they got there, the woman who lived in the lower part of the +house told her that she thought Mrs. Forester was dying of consumption, +and had been all summer. They found her up-stairs, in a room as hot as +a furnace, with the western sun full on the windows. She was lying on +the sofa, partly dressed, and a little girl was trying to put the room +in order. It seemed that was the only place she had to stay, and she +lay there from one day to another, unable to go down-stairs most of the +time. + +"Of course she was very much surprised to see them. She tried to make +out that she was only tired and sick. But, partly by questioning her, +and partly by inquiring of the woman of the house, (who seemed disposed +to be as kind as she knew how, mother said) they found that she had +been giving lessons in singing and on the piano all summer, and had +only stopped the latter when she grew too hoarse to speak. + +"Mrs. Hines said that Mr. Forester had been there twice, and staid four +days each time. She thought he took some money from Mrs. Forester when +he went away. She said she had tried to alarm him about Mrs. Forester's +state of health, but he seemed to think she was not very sick. + +"'Nonsense, Mrs. Hines!' he had said. 'How can you think of her being +sick with such a splendid color as she has? It is nothing but a cold.' + +"'I was mad enough at him to knock him down,' the good woman said, 'but +I don't think he meant to neglect her. It was only his foolishness—'" + +"It has been his foolishness which has done all the mischief, from +beginning to end," said Olive bitterly. "But go on, Charlotte." + +"There is little more to tell," replied her cousin. "She was unwilling +to come at first, though mother said she evidently wished it very much. +But she yielded at last, upon father's assurance that he would write to +Mr. Forester directly. She bore the journey better than was expected, +and seemed so happy when she was carried in and laid upon her old bed. +She appeared just as much like a child as ever at first. And Edward +would let no one carry her in but himself, and the good old fellow +laughed and cried till I did not know but he would go into hysterics +outright. Mammy seized upon Emma, who went to her directly, and she has +kept her ever since, except when she has been cooking something nice to +tempt 'Miss Abby' into eating. + +"Almost every one we know has come to inquire for her—even aunt Dimsden +seems to have forgiven her completely. She has been here two or three +times a day, and sat up with her last night. Indeed, no one in the +house went to bed till almost morning." + +Mrs. Merton now entered the room to greet Olive and Walter. She was +stately and elegant as ever, but looked worn and anxious. + +"Abby is still asleep, my dear. Come and get some refreshment, for I +am sure you must both need it. Mr. Landon, how well you are looking. I +think your change of employment must agree with you." She continued: +"I assure you sir, I was very angry with you for a time, till this +romantic girl begged a peace for you. How could you give up all your +splendid prospects so suddenly?" + +"Simply because I thought it was right, dear Mrs. Merton," said Walter, +"and I have never found reason to alter my opinion, though I can not +deny that at the time I felt it a great sacrifice." + +"I should think so indeed. With your talents, you might have become so +distinguished and been so useful." + +"I hope what talents I have may be a hundredfold more useful in the +calling I have chosen," replied Walter; "and as for distinction, +pardon me, but I do not think a Christian has any right to make that +an object. The servants in the parable were commanded to employ that +committed to their charge, whether it were ten talents or one, not +to their own advantage but to that of their master; and if they were +rewarded afterward, it was only by the grace of their lord. I do not +believe that at the last hour I shall at all regret the loss of worldly +distinction." + +"But according to that view you remove one of the greatest spurs to +human action," remarked Charlotte. + +"True, but only to substitute a stronger and better one in its place. +The man who is moved to employ his time and talents because they are +gifts from the Being best loved in the universe, to be employed to His +honor and consecrated to Him, will, I think, be far less likely to go +wrong than he who uses his gifts only to his own advantage, and that he +may obtain the praise of men." + +"But are all men capable of being influenced by such motives?" inquired +Charlotte incredulously. "Are they not above the reach of common minds?" + +"Since they are offered by the Lord of all alike to all minds, we are +bound to believe that they are suited to all. I believe more people +are actuated by them than the world chooses to believe. How many men +and women one sees discharging monotonous and painful duties from year +to year and from day to day with nothing visible to sustain them, yet +cheerful and even happy under their burdens, because they have a faith +that looks above and beyond them to a region of rest and happiness." + +Charlotte sighed. + +"I wish I had it then, I am sure," she said in a weary tone not unmixed +with bitterness. "But the more I struggle for it, the more unattainable +it seems." + +Mammy now appeared to say that Miss Abby was awake, and Olive and her +aunt withdrew. + +"Miss Merton," said Walter, after a moment's silence, "will you permit +me to ask you a question upon your last remark? Of course I can not +claim an answer, but it may lead to something satisfactory to you +perhaps. You say that you have sought such a faith—but how?" + +"By study," replied Charlotte, "I have examined all the evidences +for the authenticity and authority of the Scriptures, and perfectly +satisfied myself on that point. Then I began to review the articles of +our Church, comparing them with the Bible, and, as far as I have gone, +I am convinced that they are perfectly scriptural." + +"But still I understand that you have not yet attained to what you +really want. You have collected the materials, but they are only dead +matter after all. You have acquired knowledge, and now you want faith +to make that knowledge available." + +"Yes, I suppose so. But how is that to be attained?" + +"By prayer. My dear Miss Charlotte, in this matter I can give you +no other advice than I would give to the youngest child in my +Sunday-school class. Seek God in prayer; beg of him to enable you to +see yourself exactly as you are. Let me ask you what you will think a +common-place question: Have you felt yourself to be a great sinner?" + +"I can not say that I ever have," replied Charlotte frankly. "Of +course, I know that I have done wrong sometimes, but it seems to me +that I am about as good as people in general." + +"That is at least an honest answer. Let me ask you again to entreat of +God to see yourself just as you are. Pray for correction of your own +unworthiness, and then compare yourself with the requirements of His +law and Gospel. That is the first step, and when you have attained to +that, believe me, you will no longer care whether you are as good as +other people or not. I do not hesitate to tell you that you must come +to feel yourself a lost sinner, utterly without any plea in the sight +of God, and deserving of nothing but his anger, before you can arrive +at peace." + +"That is just what I have heard preached all my life, Mr. Landon, and +it has done me no good yet." + +"You have heard it preached all your life because there is nothing else +to preach," replied Walter. "We have no right to make a new Gospel +for the use of the first families exclusively. The reason that you +have derived no good from it has been that you have not yielded to it. +Beware that pride in your own talents and refinement does not prevent +you from yielding to this Gospel which you have heard all your life, +till it be too late. Only open your mind to conviction, be willing to +see the truth as it is, and after a while you will find rest to your +soul." + +"You have spoken plainly, Mr. Landon, and I thank you for it," said +Charlotte, after a moment's silence. "I tell you plainly that I do not +believe I shall ever come to see myself such an utterly lost creature +as you think me, though I suppose you have the same opinion of all the +rest of mankind and I will endeavor to follow your advice, and perhaps +I shall profit by it." + + +Olive found Abby supported by piles of pillows, and breathing with +difficulty. She was fearfully changed. The rosy flushed skin had become +white as paper, and a scarlet spot burned in each cheek, while her eyes +looked twice as large as ever, and perfectly transparent. + +Much as she felt the necessity of calmness, Olive could hardly command +her voice as she spoke to her. + +Abby had been forbidden to speak, but she whispered: + +"I am so glad you have come. Have you heard from William yet?" + +"Not yet, but I presume he will be here to-night. He might have started +for home you know, and in that case the letter would have met him on +the road." + +This supposition, which no one had thought of, seemed to comfort Abby, +and she lay back with a more contented expression. Olive gave Laura's +messages, which seemed to give her pleasure, and she whispered: + +"Thank her." + +They sat for some time in silence, and then seeing that her aunt had +left the room, Abby said with effort: + +"I must say one thing, Olive, in case I get worse. If any thing happens +to me, you must take Emma, if Walter is willing. Bring her up like your +own, in the fear of God. Will you?" + +"I will, love, God helping me. But indeed you must not talk now, you +will be better to-morrow." + +"I hope so. I should like very much to get well if God pleases. Do you +think it is wrong?" + +"No indeed, dear child. But try and be willing to have it either way." +Olive could say no more. + +"I am, I hope, Olive," said Abby. "I have learned where and who He is, +Olive. We are not strangers." + +"You must not say another word," said Olive. "Let me read you +something." + +"Not now. Just sit still, and let me look at you." + +She took Olive's hand in her own, and leaned back with her eyes fixed +upon her. Gradually her eyes closed, her grasp relaxed, and she fell +into a tolerably quiet sleep, which lasted till dark. + +Her physician came in the evening, and pronounced that there was a +slight improvement. + +Olive followed him down-stairs to learn his opinion of her sister's +case. + +"Please tell me the exact truth, Doctor," she said, as he made her some +evasive reply. "It can not be worse than my fears." + +"My dear Olive, you know all about it now as well as I can tell you," +said the good old man. "She may get well, but humanly speaking there +is hardly a possibility of it. I shall not be surprised to see her +comparatively comfortable again, and she may even be able to be up +again, but that is all. She must be kept quiet, and indeed she keeps +herself so. I never saw any one in a better state of mind, and that +of itself does a great deal. If she sleeps to-night, as she seems +inclined, I shall expect to see her a great deal better in the morning." + + + +CHAPTER NINETEENTH. + +AS the doctor had prophesied, Abby was much more comfortable the next +morning—better, indeed, than, she had been since her arrival, and it +was thought that a little talking would do her no harm. She seemed +to find the greatest pleasure in recurring to her childhood, and her +school-days, and in talking about them. + +Emma sat quietly upon the bed, looking at her mother, and amusing +herself with some old play-things of Charlotte's that Mammy had +discovered in a remote corner of the nursery. She was a very precocious +and beautiful child, having her mother's blue eyes and fair hair +already beginning to curl in rings round her face. + +Olive and Charlotte sat at work by the bed, and Mrs. Merton went and +came from the parlor to the sick-room as she could find time. A great +many people called to inquire for the invalid, and, according to the +pleasant custom of the place, gifts of flowers, fresh fruit, and other +delicacies, were sent in. + +Abby seemed as though she would have been quite happy, but for her +anxiety about her husband, who came about noon, feeling very much +abused, and preparing to be very lofty and indignant at having his wife +carried off without his knowledge. He had not received the letter, +having left Boston before it arrived, and he was naturally much amazed +on reaching home, and going straight to his room, to find Abby and the +baby gone, the bedstead empty, and the furniture covered up. + +The terrible fear that first came over him being removed by the reply +to his first question, he was all the better prepared to be irritated, +when Mrs. Hines, nowise inclined to soften matters, informed him "that +Mrs. Forester's friends had come and took her home, and time enough +they did, too, in her opinion." + +An attempt to silence and overawe that lady by dignified and lofty +demeanor turned out a signal failure, and ended in what might with +propriety be called a scolding-match, on which occasion the gentleman +came off second-best, so that it was in no very good humor that he took +the cars to M. By the time he arrived there, he had worked himself up +into a great passion, and was determined to do wonderful things. Abby +should return with him at once, or not at all, and he would put a final +end to her peevishness and childish freaks of temper. He would teach +Mr. Merton to interfere in his affairs. + +A thundering ring brought that gentleman himself to the door. Mr. +Merton possessed in a remarkable degree the commanding presence, and +calm, all-penetrating eye, which is apt to belong to distinguished +lawyers. And as his gaze rested upon his nephew-in-law, that gentleman +felt a sudden and sensible diminution of his courage and wrath; so he +thought it best to begin, before any more of it forsook him. + +"So, Mr. Merton!" he commenced, in a much louder tone than was +necessary. "You think it an honorable proceeding, do you, to enter a +gentleman's house and interfere with his affairs, as you have done with +mine! Let me tell you—" + +"Tell me in a lower tone, if you please," interrupted Mr. Merton +blandly. "There is no occasion for the next street to be informed, +and moreover, your voice will alarm your wife, who lies in a very +precarious state. Be pleased to walk in, and then we can discuss the +matter properly." + +Mr. Forester was put down, in spite of himself. He followed Mr. Merton +in to the library, and took a seat. "Well, sir!" he continued. "I +should like to know by what right my wife has been taken away without +my knowledge?" + +"Simply because there was no one to stay with her, and she was far too +ill to be left alone. There was no other course to take." + +"By whose judgment was she pronounced so ill?" asked Mr. Forester, +trying to continue his lofty tone, but feeling more and more all the +time that it was a failure. + +"Upon my own, and my wife's, corroborated by that of your family +physician," was the composed reply. + +"She must have become suddenly worse, then," said Mr. Forester +peevishly. "She seemed well enough when I was last at home. I never saw +any one have a more splendid color." + +"Being unused to sickness, probably the symptoms did not attract your +attention," returned Mr. Merton politely. "She is very ill now, and I +am sorry to be obliged to tell you, that Dr. Willson pronounces her +recovery very doubtful. Indeed, he told Olive that only the utmost +quiet and ease, would prolong her life from day to day. I should not +tell you this painful intelligence so abruptly, my dear sir," he +continued, "but that I wish to impress upon you the absolute necessity +of caution. I will go and tell my wife that you are here; and she will +prepare Abby for seeing you." + +Mr. Merton was gone some little time—long enough for Mr. Forester to +make up his mind that they were all in a conspiracy to frighten him out +of finding any fault with Abby. "But I will not be bullied," he said +internally, as he followed Mr. Merton up-stairs; "she shall go back +to-morrow, if she is able to be moved." + +All thought of finding fault, of taking Abby back, for once even of +himself, were put to flight by his first look at her. She had raised +herself from her pillows, and was looking eagerly toward the door: +every trace of color had vanished from one cheek, while on the other +the hectic spot burned more brightly than ever. Her large eyes looked +black, from the dilatation of their pupils and the hands she stretched +out to him were transparent as porcelain. + +He was shocked beyond measure. It had never been any part of his +education to put any constraint upon his emotions, and as she threw +herself towards him, he clasped her in his arms, and burst into tears. +Abby's eyes were always ready to overflow, but nothing could be more +dangerous now than a fit of crying. + +"This will never do!" Mrs. Merton's calm voice was heard saying. "Mr. +Forester, you are endangering Abby's life by giving way so. If you can +not compose yourself, you must retire at once. Abby, my love, remember—" + +Mr. Forester disengaged himself from his wife's embrace, and walked to +the window to recover his composure. Even then, he found time to think +how hard-hearted Mrs. Merton was, and how little she could appreciate +delicate feelings like his. In a few moments, he returned and sat down +by the bed-side, and Mrs. Merton left them together, with a renewed +charge to William, not to agitate Abby. + +"So you came home and found your bird flown," said Abby softly, after a +little pause. "What did you think, when you found I was not there?" + +"I was very much alarmed, of course," replied Mr. Forester. "I could +not be otherwise, not having heard of your being worse. Why did you not +write?" + +"I was not able for several days, and kept thinking I should be better. +Mrs. Granger wrote to uncle without my knowledge, and when he came, I +was so ill, and so very uncomfortable that I seemed to have no other +choice. Uncle wrote to you directly after we arrived here." + +"Are you sure? I have had no letter. But if you were so unwell the last +time I was at home, why did you not say something about it? I never saw +you looking better than you did then." + +"I did tell you that my cough was very troublesome," said Abby timidly. + +"I don't remember it," replied Mr. Forester, carelessly. And indeed he +had paid very little attention to it, having been absorbed for the time +in running over a new piece of music. "But I hope you will soon be well +enough to return home, for I can not say I like the idea of your being +here." + +Abby's heart sunk. "It is so pleasant and home-like here," she pleaded, +"and they are all so kind, and so fond of Emma. And if you are away in +Boston, I might as well be here as there." + +"Only that it is not very agreeable to me to come here, and be treated +like a criminal by all the family," rejoined Mr. Forester peevishly, +"and I do not choose to have my child brought up to despise her father." + +"They have never said an unkind word about you," said Abby, with an +eagerness which set her coughing. "I am sure uncle's letter was as kind +as could be." + +"I see that they have won you over to their side altogether," replied +Mr. Forester, in what he meant for a playful tone, but which was really +one of annoyance. "We shall soon have you making them a humble apology +for having married me at all." + +"I think uncle has forgiven me entirely," said Abby faintly, for she +was getting very tired. + +"So you acknowledge that you are wrong! What a pity you had not thought +of it before. You might have saved yourself all the trouble you have +had in housekeeping, and have been still an admired young lady. But +come, don't bring the water-works into play," he added, seeing her eyes +full of tears, "or you will be worse, and I shall be turned out of +doors for an unnatural monster. I want you to get well, so I can have +you all to myself again." + +But in the earnestness of justifying herself from the charge of wishing +she had never been married, Abby over-exerted herself, and coughed +terribly. + +The ominous sound summoned Mrs. Merton, and she at once dismissed Mr. +Forester, not without a grave rebuke for allowing his wife to talk so +much. + +The gentleman went down-stairs in any thing but an amiable humor. He +had intended to be very magnanimous and very gentle with his wife, but +upon reviewing what he had said, he could not but be conscious that he +had allowed his annoyance to appear plainly—that he had disturbed her, +instead of doing her any good, and that Mrs. Merton thought, though she +did not say so, that he was not to be trusted. + +It was, therefore, with no amiable feelings that he met Miss Merton and +Miss McHenry in the parlor. They took pains to be very polite, feeling +really sorry for him in view of the distress which they supposed he +must feel. Olive asked him how he found Abby. + +"She is very unwell, no doubt," said he, throwing himself into a corner +of the sofa. "I do not believe her hasty journey has done her any good. +She is much worse than when I left her." + +Miss Charlotte stiffened up directly. "The journey was not a hasty one, +Mr. Forester," said she coldly, "and Abby was so unwell when my father +found her that it was impossible to think of leaving her where she was, +with no one to take care of her." + +"I understood Mrs. Forester that the people of the house were very +attentive," he replied loftily. + +"It would be rather hard both for them and her to have her left upon +their hands," said Olive gently. "Such people have usually enough to +do to attend to their own affairs, and however well disposed they +may be, they can not bestow that constant attention which is needed +by an invalid in Abby's situation. But how do you like your present +employment?" she asked, hoping by turning the conversation to prevent +an explosion from Charlotte. "I should think it must be very agreeable." + +"Oh! I have given that up," replied the gentleman. "The man was too +insufferably accurate. He insisted upon my doing every thing according +to rule and measure, and had the audacity to prefer his own stiff +sketches to the drawings I made from them, because he said they were +more correct! As if mere mechanical correctness were the main thing in +a picture!" + +"But in a scientific work," said Olive, "it seems to me that accuracy +would be worth much more than picturesque effect." + +"May-be so," returned her brother-in-law, "but I can not work in that +way. I must have room allowed for the play of my imagination. These +very practical people never have any sympathy for aught beyond their +own ideas." + +"Perhaps the very practical people might make the same complaint of +the very imaginative ones," replied Olive, smiling; "at any rate, as +a certain number of practical people seem to be necessary for the +well-being of society, it is perhaps best to have patience with them." + +"Yes, of course, if they will only have patience with us, and be +willing to know their place, and keep to it. And as you say, a certain +number of them seem to be rather convenient. Now there is my sister, +Emma—she has not one spark of genius, and is as narrow-minded as +possible, but yet she is a very useful person in the family. I hardly +know what my mother and Emmeline would do without her. But to return to +your sister. When do you think she will be able to be moved?" + +"Moved!" exclaimed Charlotte and Olive together. "You surely can not +think of taking her away." + +"Why, I don't know," he replied doubtfully. "Perhaps a change might do +her good. I was thinking of going to some of the villages near Boston +to live, and of course I could not go without her." + +"I am afraid she will never live to be moved again," said Olive, her +eyes filling with tears. "Dr. Willson says her case is almost hopeless." + +"But don't you think physicians are apt to make matters worse than they +are, Olive?" asked William anxiously. "They naturally like to enhance +their own importance. I have seen people much worse than she is, who +recovered." + +"We must hope for the best as long as we can," said Olive sadly, "but +I fear there is but one event possible. Her only chance is to be kept +perfectly quiet and easy in mind. Pray do not say a word to her about +going away. I am sure it would worry her very much, and perhaps bring +on another bad attack." + +The mischief was done, however. Abby coughed very badly all the +afternoon, and the evening brought another time of great distress, +followed by another attack of bleeding, not so severe as the last, but +enough to cause serious alarm in her present weak state. Dr. Willson +absolutely forbade her talking to any body, and only one person was +allowed to be in her room at a time. + + +The next day, Mr. Merton courteously invited Mr. Forester to make +the house his home as long as Abby continued ill. Mr. Forester was +much obliged, but hinted at painful obligations, whereupon Mr. Merton +intimated that Mr. Forester's services would be valuable in the office +just now, and Mr. Forester accepted the invitation upon condition that +his services should be considered an equivalent for his board. For +about a week he was very assiduous in his attendance upon office-work, +and Mr. Merton really began to have hopes of him, but they were not +very long-lived. + +As usual, when the novelty of the thing wore off, his industry +began to relax. His old companions courted his society. It was very +wearisome to work in the office all day, and then return at night to +Abby's sick-room, and the grave circle in Mr. Merton's drawing-room. +He persuaded himself that his own health was failing, as it always +did when he worked in the house, and that he needed exercise, and his +office-hours became few and far between. + +If he had been a clerk, Mr. Merton would have discharged him at the end +of a month, but Abby's comfort was now the principal object, and he +was allowed to take his own course. The example was by no means a good +one, and, as may be imagined, began to make trouble among the other +young men, and Mr. Merton was very glad when he abandoned the office +altogether, and became wholly absorbed in the idea of publishing a set +of translations from the older German and Italian poets, an occupation +which he varied by long pedestrian rambles, which sometimes kept him +away for a day or two at a time, and from which he returned with +abundance of beautiful but unfinished sketches. + +Olive once or twice finished up some of these sketches into pictures, +which Mr. Forester admired very much, and showed to every body as his +own. He was quite astonished to find that his sister-in-law could +draw as well as himself and that Charlotte was more than his equal +in languages, both ancient and modern, and now and then a glimmering +perception came across his mind that he was not altogether so far above +all the rest of the world as he had always imagined. + +Abby lay from day to day with little visible alteration, except that +she was gradually growing weaker, and less able to withstand her +terrible attacks of difficulty of breathing, which were always followed +by bleeding. She was quiet and smiling, apparently perfectly resigned +to whatever might happen, happy in being once more at home, in feeling +herself forgiven, in having her husband and child with her. She had +told William her desires in respect to Emma, and he had given his +consent to the arrangement, without thinking much about it. + +In fact, Mr. Forester made entirely a false estimate of his own +character. He fancied himself earnest, passionate, and susceptible +of strong emotions, when in reality he was both shallow-minded and +shallow-hearted, utterly incapable of receiving deep or lasting +impressions. As Laura said, if Abby had refused him, he would have +forgotten all about her in six weeks. But like most persons of weak +will and understanding, he was very obstinate, and when he found +himself opposed, he resolved to win her at all hazards. But he was kind +to her now, and took some little pains to render himself agreeable to +the family, and that was enough to render her happy. + +It had already been settled in the family councils that Olive was not +to return to Basswoods at the end of the vacation. Abby could not bear +the idea of her sister's leaving her even for a day, and Mrs. Merton +thought that as there was no probability of her returning for any +length of time, she had better write to Mr. Jones, in order to give him +time to provide a substitute. She did so at once, advising him to apply +to Mrs. Granger again, and she also wrote to Ruth, informing her of the +change in her plans. She felt very sorry to take leave of the school +so abruptly, but her anxiety and grief for Abby swallowed up all minor +considerations. + +Walter entirely approved of her plan of spending the winter at home, +thinking, though she did not say so, that she ought to have a season +of rest before undertaking the somewhat arduous duties of a pastor's +wife. His visit was a comfort to the whole family. Abby liked to have +him read to her and pray with her, even better than Dr. Eastman; Mr. +Merton enjoyed the quiet evening conversations, and formed all the +time a higher and higher estimate of his young friend's abilities and +principles; Charlotte liked him because he was so perfectly honest and +plain spoken—so utterly without humbug, was her expression; and even +Mrs. Merton quite forgave his romance, as when driven into a corner she +still persisted in calling it. + +Mr. Forester, utterly unconscious of what an admirable foil he was to +Walter's good qualities, tolerated, and sometimes patronized him, to +Olive's indignation and Walter's great amusement. And though he could +not but look with contempt upon a man who had given up the study of +music because it interfered with such a trifling pursuit as practising +law, he yet allowed that Walter would make a very good sort of husband +for Olive, who was as prosy as himself. + +In a week or two letters came from Mr. Jones and Isabella Lambert, +containing both pleasant and sad news. The pleasant part of the +intelligence was, that upon Mrs. Granger's earnest recommendation, the +committee had engaged Helen Monteith to fill Olive's place, Isabella +being still retained as second teacher. Nothing could have pleased +Olive more. She knew that Helen would carry out her plans, and keep up +the influence which she had acquired, and she felt, too, that she would +fill up the gap in the little social circle at the parsonage. + +A postscript in Isabella's letter, written the next day, announced the +death of Frederick Gregory. As the doctor had predicted, it was very +sudden at last. He had been working at his collections by times during +the day, and seemed as well as usual. But while they were all sitting +together in the twilight, he had complained of fatigue, and laid his +head upon Ruth's shoulder. After a few moments' silence, she touched +his hand, and was alarmed at its coldness. Lights were brought, but all +was over. He had breathed his last, resting upon the breast which had +been faithful to him for so many years. + +Olive wrote to the girls, and received an answer from Ruth almost +immediately. It was short, and a good deal of it related to business, +but there were a few sentences which related to himself, and which set +Olive's heart at rest about her. Ruth evidently felt resigned to her +loss, and was deeply thankful that so much more had been vouchsafed to +her than she had any reason to expect. She told Olive that Helen was to +have her old room, but there would be another for her whenever she came +to Basswoods; her letter concluding with quantities of affectionate +messages from the school-girls, who, Ruth said, were quite in despair, +and perfectly sure that they never could, never should, and never would +like any other teacher as well as Miss McHenry. + +Olive wrote them a kind of general letter, recommending Miss Monteith +to their especial consideration, and begging them to show their +affection by being as dutiful and respectful to her successor as they +had been to herself. + +A few days later, the express brought her a package containing a +beautiful writing-desk and color-box, which had been purchased for +her by their joint contributions. Mr. Forester criticised the form +and arrangement of both, and wondered what a parcel of common-place +school-girls could find in their mistress to be grateful for. But Olive +shed some tears over the pretty gifts, and felt that the love of her +pupils was worth a great deal to her. + +Laura and her husband came up to see Abby, and spent two weeks at aunt +Dimsden's, who was in the seventh heaven of enjoyment and gratified +vanity, and displayed her adopted daughter and her daughter's husband, +or, as William said, "trotted out her elephants," till the elephants +themselves did not know whether to be most amused or annoyed. + +Olive's opinion of Mr. Witherington rose with every opportunity she +had of observing him, and she could not but hope that he would, after +a time, acquire such an influence over Laura, as would make her worthy +of him. She thought that Laura was really improved—that she was less +frivolous, less fond of display, and showed less anxiety to be admired. +Aunt Dimsden was rather vexed with her niece for making Abby's state +an excuse for not attending some of the gay parties that were made for +her, and wanted Mr. Witherington to interpose his authority to prevent +his wife from being moped to death in a sick-room. But Mr. Witherington +was not inclined to do so, and she had to content herself with talking +to every one about her dear Laura's sensibility and affection for her +sister. + +Abby liked having Laura to sit with her and talk to her a little while +at a time, for she soon grew weary now of any conversation. Laura told +her many stories and anecdotes of her New-York life, and her fine +acquaintances, and sometimes made her laugh more than Mrs. Merton +thought was quite safe. But she always slept well after it, and seemed +to enjoy it so much that no one had the heart to interfere with her +pleasure. The last day of Laura's stay, she was alone with Abby quite +a long time, and when she left her, she was weeping bitterly. It was +some time before Olive knew the subject of their conversation. But Mr. +Witherington told her afterwards, he thought it had a great effect upon +Laura—that she was much more domestic, and cared more for her husband's +society, and less for the excitements which had formerly been her chief +delight. + +It seemed as though Abby declined from the day Laura left them. She +lost her voice entirely, and was unable to sit up a moment. But she +had no more of the terrible turns of suffering which had been so +distressing to witness, and which nothing seemed to relieve. She +lay most of the time in a painless, half-dreaming state, not always +recognizing those about her, but always docile and uncomplaining. +Little Emma was almost always with her, sitting upon the bed, as near +her mother as she could creep, and keeping her eyes fixed upon her, or +playing with her long, thin fingers. Abby liked to have Emma near her, +and the little one's presence often roused her when nothing else would +have the desired effect. + +Every night, as long as she was able to speak, she put Emma's hands +together, and repeated her evening prayer, and it was a sad grief to +the baby, the first time her mother was too ill to notice her clasped +hands, and the inarticulate murmur with which she had learned to +accompany the whispered words. + +William seemed about this time to awaken all at once to the idea that +his wife was dying. He seldom left her, except to procure something +which he fancied would give her pleasure, watched her day and night, +and gave up all his favorite employments to read to her when she was +able to hear him, or to sit by with his hand clasped in hers, when she +was restless and unable to sleep. It was evident that Abby herself +never blamed him, even in her inmost thoughts, and that she loved him +with an earnestness and depth over which his own faults and follies +had no power. To her, he was still the William who had attracted her +first love, whom she had invested with qualities which certainly never +belonged to him, and whom she still believed in, despite all her +disappointments and the sad experience of her married life. + +A few days before the last, she seemed to revive very much. She +regained her voice in some measure, knew every one about her, and +seemed much stronger than she had been for weeks. William was full of +joy, and seemed to look upon her as nearly well, and even Mrs. Merton +could not help having some hopes. Abby had expressed a wish to receive +the holy communion, and Mrs. Merton consulted the doctor. + +"Nothing can hurt her, my dear madam," he said, in answer to her +anxious inquiries. "This apparent gain is but the last flash of the +lamp. Let her have her own way in every thing, but do not leave her +alone a moment." + +Dr. Eastman was accordingly summoned, and with all her friends around +her, Abby received, for the last time, the pledges of the dying love of +the Saviour, who was even then standing at the door. She did not seem +much fatigued, and spoke without difficulty several times after the +clergyman had gone, but Mammy's experienced eye saw that a change had +come over her. + +"She is marked for death, Mrs. Merton," said she to her mistress, whom +she had gone to call, leaving Charlotte and Olive with Abby. "She won't +be here many hours longer. Lord receive her, poor dear lamb!" + +"Do you think she is dying, Mammy?" asked Mrs. Merton anxiously, but +preserving her composure, as she usually did, so long as there was any +thing to be done. "Send Edward for Mr. Merton at once—he was called to +the office a few minutes ago; and let him call for Dr. Willson." + +When she entered the sick-room, she found Abby half-leaning upon her +husband, but holding Charlotte's hand, and talking to her at intervals. +Charlotte sat like a statue, but the tears fell fast from her eyes. + +The only words Mrs. Merton caught were, "Take Him for your own, Lotta. +Nothing else is worth living for." + +Then, after a few moments' silence: "He is so good—he helped me—he +helps me now." + +"Don't talk, Abby," said William hoarsely; "you will exhaust yourself." + +"It won't make much difference," she said, with a heavenly smile +illuminating her already sharpened features. "Dear William, don't +grieve too much, and study the Bible. Don't be deceived by fancies. +There is nothing but Christ!" She was silent again, and lay apparently +asleep for half an hour, till Mammy brought in the baby. + +Emma stretched out her hands to her mother. + +"Set her down here," said Abby, now seeming to speak with a little +difficulty. + +As Mammy obeyed, she took her hand and kissed her. "Thank you, dear +Mammy. Take care of her while she is little, won't you?" + +"So help me God, I will, Miss Abby," said Mammy, quite overcome. Her +sobs were the signal for a burst of tears from every one in the room. +Abby's eyes filled, too, but the drops did not fall. She looked around +the room, and called every one to her by name, even the servants, who +had collected at the door. There was again an interval of silence, and +she said faintly, "Uncle!" + +"What, love?" asked Mr. Merton, trying to speak calmly. + +"I was a very ungrateful girl, but indeed I loved you all the time. +Please forgive me and poor William, for my sake." + +Mr. Merton kissed her, but could not reply. + +Abby now changed rapidly, and when Dr. Willson put some wine to her +lips, she could not swallow. Taking, with a last effort, Emma's little +hands between her own, she murmured some indistinct words, of which +they could only distinguish the last—"for Jesus Christ's sake." + +And when she had so spoken, she fell asleep. + + + +CHAPTER TWENTIETH. + +FROM the first of Abby's illness, Olive had felt that she could not +get well, but now that she was really gone, it seemed but a dream. She +could not think, in passing Abby's room, that her sister was no longer +there. The exquisite statue of alabaster that lay folded on soft satin +and surrounded with beautiful flowers was not Abby, and she could not +connect it with her sister. + +It seemed as though the house were almost empty. Emma would hardly +go to any one but Mammy, and she cried constantly for her mother, +especially at night. She would not allow her father to take her at all. +All necessary business was attended to by Mrs. Dimsden with a quietness +and kindness which did her great credit, causing Mrs. Merton to think +that she had really done Alicia injustice, and making her resolve that +she would hereafter be more patient with her short-comings. + +William shut himself up in his room, and would see no one. Perhaps +as he went back over the circumstances of his married life, he felt +some self-reproach and some misgiving that he had not always been the +kindest and most considerate of husbands—that it would have been better +if he had been willing to cramp his fancy and genius a little and work +steadily at a respectable calling, instead of quarrelling with his +employers and allowing his wife to waste almost her last breath in +music lessons. Perhaps he thought that the things he had been spending, +time and money upon (thinking himself all the time much superior to his +poor Abby) would not weigh a grain when laid in the balance against +her self-sacrificing industry. It is at least charitable to hope so. +He left M. a few days after his wife was buried, to pay a visit to his +mother, having first borrowed fifty dollars of Mr. Merton, who was very +kind to him at parting, and very glad to get rid of him so cheaply. + +He left Emma in Olive's charge, with proper expressions of gratitude +and confidence, which she could very well have dispensed with, and +begged her to keep Abby clothes and ornaments for the child and not +let her forget her father. "I think she is very bright," was his last +remark. "I hope she may turn out talented." + +"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Olive when he was out of hearing. "I would +rather she would turn out almost any thing else." + +"Talents do nobody any harm, my dear Olive, when they are rightly +improved, and the character properly cultivated," said Mrs. Merton, who +overheard her. "But when a man thinks that because he can do a little +of a good many things very easily and likes to amuse himself with books +and pictures, that he is a genius and that therefore he is excused from +hard work and from doing any thing that he does not like; when he once +accepts the supposition that he has a right to please himself and that +every one else is bound to work for him—why, I would give more for any +little Dutch child that is taught to work at four years old, by picking +up chips while its father saws wood." + +Walter came up to the funeral, as did Mr. Witherington and Laura, so +that the family were once more all together. Laura seemed very much +subdued, and every way improved. She would gladly have taken the little +Emma herself, but Olive would not hear of such a thing, and indeed aunt +Merton seemed to want her more than any body. She should keep her till +Olive was married, she declared, and then they would see what was to be +done. + +She hoped matters might be so managed that Olive might be settled near +them. Mrs. Merton had her own reasons for hoping so, though she thought +best to keep them to herself. Their parish church had long been full +and crowded to overflowing, and some of the families who lived most +distant from church, Mrs. Merton's among the number, began to think of +colonizing and establishing a new parish nearer at hand. It was not +likely that the movement would be carried into effect before spring. +Mr. Merton had great influence among his friends and neighbors, every +one liked Olive, and there seemed no reason why Olive's husband should +not take charge of the new chapel, as soon as it was built and he was +ordained. + +It was only since her niece had been away from her, that Mrs. Merton +had learned to appreciate her—for in reality she had never really +done Olive justice while she was at home. Her very quick feelings +and somewhat irritable temper, as well as a certain diffidence +which sometimes looked like sullenness, made her appear at a great +disadvantage by the side of poor Abby, who was always gentle, cheerful, +and tractable, and laid her open to constant defeats in her frequent +skirmishes with Charlotte, who usually contrived to throw the blame of +the quarrel upon her. Mrs. Merton thought her own daughter hasty, but +open and generous, and she had never been able to believe that Olive +really was so. + +But the spirited yet judicious and respectful way with which Olive had +asserted her right to support herself, and the entirely noble manner in +which she had come out of the affair of poor Abby's miserable marriage, +had acquired for her upon the part of her aunt, a respect which every +thing she did contributed to strengthen, and Mrs. Merton no sooner +began to respect any one than she began to like them. She felt too, +that she had done Olive injustice, and she was anxious to make it up +to her by every means in her power. It would have pleased her better +undoubtedly, if her niece had made a more splendid match, but she saw +that she and Walter were very well suited to each other, that he was a +talented, industrious, and steady young man, and she felt that under +such circumstances she had no right to interfere. The course he had +taken about studying for the ministry had displeased her very much at +first, but she gradually learned to regard it with more favor as she +saw how entirely he was fitted for the profession he had chosen. As +she said to Mr. Merton, it was plain that Mr. Landon would do his best +in whatever he undertook, and would never be any thing but a credit to +those connected with him. + +Walter's stay was a short one, but before he left M. it was settled +that Olive was to be married in the spring as soon after her lover's +ordination as he should be settled anywhere. Meantime, she was to +remain at Mrs. Merton's, except that she intended to make a visit to +Basswoods some time during the fall. Mrs. Merton again began to turn +her attention to sheeting and linen, and made numerous long shopping +excursions, which resulted in such a quantity of brown paper parcels +that the Miss Willets who lived opposite, thought Mrs. Merton must be +thinking of setting up a shop. + +Over the contents of these bundles did Mrs. Merton and Charlotte hold +long and solemn consultations, to which Olive was sometimes admitted +and sometimes not. She was not to be allowed to make herself thin and +ill with sewing, Mrs. Merton pronounced, so she was only allowed to do +the very lightest parts of the work, the rest having been committed to +a seamstress renowned for skill and the mysteries of the needle. Olive +would have remonstrated at the quantity and quality of the articles +lavishly provided, but Mrs. Merton had a plea which stopped all +remonstrances. + +"You know, my dear, that we always intended to provide for you both as +if you were our own, and since poor dear Abby did not have her share, +you must take a double portion." + +Abby died the last of September, and it was not until the end of +November that Olive felt any spirits for her intended visit to +Basswoods. She carried an invitation from her aunt to little Louisa to +come home with her and spend the holidays, with which she was very well +pleased, thinking that the child would be both gratified and benefited +by the change. She found Helen completely established in her old +quarters, and to all appearance likely to become as much of a favorite +in the place as she herself had been. Every one was pleased with her, +Ruth said, except Mrs. Tucker, who had wished to obtain the place for +Melissa. + +It was rather trying to Olive to be obliged to listen to Mrs. Felton's +expressions of sympathy, for that lady always seemed to suffer under +a fear that her friends would not appreciate the extent of their +misfortunes. If she visited a mother who had lost her child, she would +insist upon inquiring into all the circumstances of the little one's +sickness and death, and related all the cases in any degree similar +which had come within her knowledge. Nothing offended her more than +to have any one intimate to her that this sort of conversation was +ill-timed; she set that person down at once as unfeeling and wicked, +and she had never quite forgiven Mr. Gregory for somewhat abruptly +dismissing her from Augusta's room at the time that her little girl +died. + +Ruth seemed entirely unaltered, except that her cheerfulness had a +certain subdued character, and that she talked less. She seemed to take +as much interest as ever in all her old pursuits, and she and Augusta +were still reading German together. Frederick's collection had been +arranged by them in the library of the academy, and formed quite a +valuable cabinet of natural history. The little property he had brought +home with him was left to his parents for their life-time; at their +death to be equally divided between Ruth and Augusta. + +This arrangement disappointed Mrs. Felton, who had made up her mind +that Ruth was to turn out an heiress, and who had built several castles +in the air upon this foundation, but all the other parties interested +were more than satisfied. Mrs. Felton could not understand what a +clergyman could want with so much money. Their house was furnished +well enough—some people thought too well for a minister—and what any +one could want of so many books was more than she could see. Why, the +parish library contained more volumes than were to be found in the +whole country when she was a girl, and she did not perceive that any +one was the better for it. Nobody ever thought any thing of what she +said, however. The parish library went on increasing no one exactly +knew how, while the comeliness of the sanctuary was increased by +various repairs and improvements till it became one of the prettiest in +the country. + +If Olive met with some annoyances in the course of her visit, the +pleasures greatly counterbalanced them. Every one was glad to see her. +The first time she entered the school-room, she was nearly devoured by +the kisses of the girls, while Helen looked on smilingly, above the +jealousy which some people would have felt upon such an occasion. Mr. +Prendergrass actually left the regions below, and came up-stairs to +speak to her, though such a thing as the principal entering the young +ladies' department had never been known in the Rev. Mr. Snowden's time. + +Olive saw at once that Helen was likely to succeed—all the girls liked +her and she evidently liked them, without being finical or fussy +about little things, she was sufficiently strict, and she required +the most perfect recitations at the same time that she took pains to +make those recitations lively and interesting. Several of the larger +girls, including Anna Jones and Julia Goodrich, had left school, though +they still came two or three times a week to draw and read French, and +Helen told Olive that their influence and example had been of great +use to her. They were a good deal looked up to by the younger set, who +seeing them take pride in being good scholars and punctual in their +attendance, were naturally more inclined to be so, too. + +Upon the whole, the tone of the school had improved very much during +the three years it had been under Olive's care. The standard of +scholarship was higher, there was much less gossiping and consequently +much less quarrelling among the girls, and a better state of morals +prevailed altogether. + +Olive could not but be thankful that it had not fallen into the hands +of another Miss Brown, who would undo in one quarter all that she had +accomplished. It was hard for her to leave Basswoods, where she had +spent so many happy hours, and where she had first known Walter. Every +house and street-corner in the curious old place was dear to her—yes, +even the haunted old red house, to which she and the girls persisted +in walking one Saturday afternoon, despite Mrs. Felton's grave +remonstrances. Olive took a sketch of it, which that lady declared she +would not have hanging up in her room for any thing; it was all very +well for people not to be superstitious, but she did think there was +such a thing as presumption. She appealed to Mr. Gregory to know if +this last remark was not true, and his grave assent made her almost +forget his want of appreciation for her sympathy. + +Olive's stay was prolonged from day to day, and from week to week, till +at last she hardly left herself time to return before the holidays. + +Louisa enjoyed her visit at Mrs. Merton's very much, and won all hearts +by her merriment and docility. She received more pretty presents than +she ever had before. Mr. Merton took great pleasure in showing her all +the lions of the city. Mrs. Dimsden made a children's party for her, +and Olive feared the little girl's head would be turned entirely. She +did not think it best for her to stay longer than a fortnight, as it +was not desirable that she should lose her standing in school. And she +returned with Walter, feeling that she had subjects enough of thought +and conversation to last her all winter. + +Helen wrote that Louisa had settled down to her studies as well as was +to be expected, and that she seemed to think Mrs. Merton's home the +very "ne plus ultra" of magnificence, and Mrs. Merton herself a sort of +superior being. + +But the winter was not destined to pass without further sorrow. The +little Emma, who had always seemed a healthy child, was taken suddenly +ill, not long after Louisa's visit, and despite all that could be done, +died on the fourth day. She was insensible most of the time, and seemed +to suffer but little. She had never seemed to Mrs. Merton like a child +that was likely to grow up, but more like one of those little angels +who are sent to earth, to show what the Saviour meant when He said: +"Of such is the kingdom of heaven." Her extraordinary precocity, her +perfect docility, and almost unearthly beauty, had always been in her +aunt's eyes so many signs that her pilgrimage on earth would be a short +one. + +Mammy thought so too. + +"Her mother keeps calling her," she said to Olive one day. "She won't +be here long, Miss. Most every time I watch her asleep, I see her smile +and hold up her hands, and I know her mother calls her." + +Though Olive had something of the same feeling, the baby's death was +a bitter disappointment to her. Yet when she was calm enough to think +the matter all over, she was constrained to say it was well. William +would undoubtedly marry again, and even if he did not, she well knew +there was no dependence to be placed upon him—that he would be very +likely to take a fancy to remove Emma from her charge after a while. +Nevertheless, she missed the little creature sadly. And for a long +time, the sight of a child of Emma's age would bring the tears into her +eyes. + +A message was sent to Mr. Forester at the first appearance of danger, +but he only arrived in time for the funeral. He remained two or three +days at Mr. Merton's, occupied in selecting his own books from among +Abby's, and in burning her letters and papers. As we shall have nothing +further to do with that gentleman, we may as well say here that within +a year from Emma's death, he married a wealthy young lady, an heiress, +who had been first attracted to him by "The Widower's Lament," which +was published with an appropriate vignette, and greatly admired as +displaying such a depth of feeling. + +The present Mrs. Forester is not in the least like Abby, possessing +upon the contrary good deal of decision of character and some sharpness +of tongue on occasions. Nevertheless, she is in the main an estimable +person, and as she took the precaution before she was married of having +all her property secured upon herself, it is to be hoped that Mr. +Forester may loiter away the rest of his life without doing a great +deal more mischief. + +His sister Emma has married late in life a very excellent man in good +circumstances greatly to the astonishment of her mother and Emmeline, +who have a great deal to say about Emma's selfishness and ingratitude +in leaving them, after all they had done for her. William sympathizes +with them and says that Emma was always narrow-minded. + + +Mr. Landon's ordination came on early in March, and Mrs. Merton +took Olive down to New-York to be present at it. The new parish was +organized by this time, and when Walter came up on a visit to Mrs. +Merton's, he was invited to fill the vacant pulpit for several Sundays. + +Olive thought the severest ordeal through which she had ever been +called upon to pass was hearing Walter's first sermon. But with all +her fears and misgivings, she could not but feel that it had been all +she could wish. Every one else seemed to think so too, for at the end +of the six weeks for which he had been invited to take charge of the +parish, a formal call was tendered to him to become the pastor of the +new church. + +For his own part, he would have preferred to make his first essay in +a country congregation. But he knew how anxious Olive's friends were +to have her settled near them, and how kindly Mr. Merton had exerted +himself to procure this place for him; so, as there was really no +good reason for refusing, he accepted the call, and was formally +installed in the sacred office. The salary was sufficiently liberal, +he had something of his own, and there seemed to be no reason why the +engagement between him and Olive should be prolonged. + +It was not prolonged beyond the first of June. Olive had sent for +Augusta and Ruth to come up and bring Louisa with them, and they +accepted the invitation. Louisa and Charlotte were to be bridesmaids, +and the former mounted her first long dress upon the occasion. + +The wedding was a very quiet one, the deep mourning of the family +forming a ready excuse for having no company, though Mrs. Dimsden +thought the fact of Olive's being the minister's wife ought to have +outweighed it. Abundance of cake and cards were sent out by Mrs. Merton +next day, and no one was dissatisfied except Mammy, who thought the +affair was not half grand enough, though she admitted that it was very +genteel. + +The new-married pair went down to make a short visit at Mrs. +Witherington's. She was staying at the Briars, and welcomed them +with her usual cordiality and grace. Olive liked the country-house +better than the town-house. It was more quiet, the furniture was all +old-fashioned, and looked as if it might have been there since the +old French war, and indeed much of it had retained its place since +the Revolution. The gardens and conservatories were splendid, and Mr. +Witherington seemed perfectly happy in walking through them, giving +directions to the gardener or holding consultations with him over some +delicate grape-vine or sickly-looking pear-tree. + +Laura frankly confessed that she had at first detested Briars, and only +came there in compliance with the wishes of her husband, who was very +fond of the place. + +"But do you know I am really beginning to like it? The mornings were +terribly long at first, till I took to practising violently. Mr. +Witherington likes Beethoven and Mendelssohn, and I am learning all the +old-fashioned things I can pick up to please him. I think it is little +enough, as long as he is so indulgent to me. We ride out on horseback +almost every day, and you know I was always fond of that. There are +some very pleasant people within visiting distance, and upon the whole +I like it almost as well as New-York." + +"I suppose you will return to the city in winter," said Olive. + +"Oh! Yes, but I assure you I shall not be so dissipated as I was last +year. I am beginning to think that there are other things in the world +besides company and dress. I shall never forget what dear Abby said to +me that last day. But tell me all about your plans, my dear. Are you +going directly to housekeeping?" + +"Oh! Yes, I think it is best to begin as one means to keep on. I +never believed in young married people boarding, and it is especially +inconvenient for a minister. We shall have a very pleasant house—the +one Mr. Fairfax built for Jenny, you know. The church, when it is +built, will be just next door. I left Mammy planning about carpets and +curtains as happy as possible." + +"She and Edward will have hard work deciding to which house they +belong—won't they?" + +"I don't know," replied Olive laughing; "I think the Black Prince +thinks that I am hardly able to take care of myself. Aunt has kindly +promised to spare me Anne, so I shall have no trouble with servants to +begin with." + +After a short stay in Basswoods, where Olive received so many bridal +presents as to materially increase her baggage, Mr. and Mrs. Landon +returned to M. to find her house all prepared for them, with tea ready, +Louisa looking out for them, and Anne in attendance. + +The beautiful china which decorated the table, was at once recognized +by Olive as part of a set upon the merits of which Laura had asked her +opinion one day when they were in New-York. The house was elegantly +but not splendidly furnished, though Louisa thought nothing had ever +been seen more beautiful than the dark-green and crimson carpets and +rosewood chairs. She could hardly allow her sister-in-law time to take +off her bonnet, so anxious was she to display the contents of closets, +book-cases, drawing-room, and study, and especially her own little +room with its blue and white bed, table, and chairs all to match, and +its little book-case and desk, which Mrs. Merton said was to be all +her own. It was not till she had done the honors of the whole house +that she remembered that her brother and sister might possibly like +something to eat after their ride. + +They had hardly finished their tea before a ring was heard, and in +came Mrs. Merton and Charlotte, closely followed by aunt Dimsden, +all anxious to see Olive, and know how she liked her new house. Mrs. +Merton was in her most gracious mood, and Louisa listened with blushing +delight to her commendation of her own conduct during her brother's +absence. The house had again to be passed in review; and the presents +of friends to be discussed and praised. The silk quilt which Olive +had brought from Basswoods, and upon which Anna and Phebe Jones had +been employed for a year previous, was displayed and admired, as well +as Mrs. Felton's knit counterpane, Ruth's beautiful embroidery, and +Augusta's Chinese screens and tea-trays. Charlotte thought Olive would +have to have a fancy-fair to get rid of the quantities of book-marks, +pen-wipers, glove-boxes, and other small articles presented by the +younger part of the congregation. + +"Well, Olive," were Mrs. Dimsden's parting words, "you see I was +right, after all. I knew you would marry a minister, and really," she +concluded, glancing at Walter as she spoke, "taking all things into +consideration, I doubt if you could have done better even if I had +found you a husband myself." + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76970 *** |